Fate/Clusterfuck (Fate/Stay Night)

[Taiga]

Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!

—

*Third Person Perspective*

Taiga Fujimura was a woman of multitudes, though few, very few, knew that. To most she was a clutz, she was a teacher, she was an ex-kendo ace and a skilled swordswoman besides. She was, in truth, all of these things. But she was also a woman unto herself, she had her own goals, she had her own ideals. They weren't Shirou's ideals, in truth, she hardly understood his ideals herself, even after living with the young man for over a decade. How could she? He was an alien, out of sorts. She had done her best for him, acting the nurturing older sister as needed, the clown when required. She had worried about Shirou, fretted about him, thought about him and above all cared about him when it seemed that nothing else in the world did, or for that matter even could. She knew something was wrong with him, how could she not? She wasn't blind, she knew she was far from wise, she knew she wasn't a Magus or… whatever it was called either. She isn't, wasn't, and won't be any of those things. She had accepted that, she had understood that. Taiga Fujimura knew her limitations, weaknesses, and what she could be expected to accomplish in life, and what other people expected of her. This was, in truth, nothing exceptional. In a realm of warring demigods it was far from impressive. But it was a strength, and it was one she could use.

Taiga places a single hand down against her grandfather's desk, it was a gift from her, four years ago. She doesn't pay attention to it, nor to the men staring at her in shock and alarm. She is instead fully focused on the man sitting at the desk, staring back up at her. "You're going to help him, Raiga."

Raiga says nothing for several moments, instead gently tapping the end of his pipe into an ashtray. With a click he sets it aside, the sweet scent of his tobacco wafting by for a moment before dissipating as if itself nervous of the tension. "He has made his decision, I am grateful he brought you back, but it is he who put you in danger to begin wit-"

His words halt as Taiga reaches across the desk to grab the mob boss by the collar. The old man barely lets out a grunt as he is yanked forward, his face brought within an inch of Taiga's. Fury, raw, unrepentant fury was on her face now, but her voice was barely above a whisper.

"I made a promise to his father, and now it's your turn to decide, Grandfather, if you are going to help me complete that promise. It's entirely optional on your part, if you don't help, then I'm going alone to help him. If I die doing it, then I die. But I'm not going to let him suffer alone."

"And if I don't let you?" Raiga asks calmly.

"Do you believe you can stop me?" Taiga asks.

The men had drawn their guns, for most it was instinct, for the rest it was simply doing what everyone else did. All were pointed at Taiga, fingers on the triggers.

"Stomping your feet and raising your voice worked when you were a child dear, not now. Not in this situation." Raiga says, still calmly, his gaze unwavering.

Taiga raises her free hand, and a sweet scent fills the room.

Raiga's expression doesn't change as every gun shifts to point at him instead, he doesn't flinch, he barely breathes. Then, after a short eternity. He smiles.

—

*Second Person Perspective*

*TW: Sexual Content*

—


View: https://youtu.be/6J0HYlcDNk0?si=shIbLWMbuPzVV-Hq

Medea's hair drags along in the water as she moves closer to you, and your breath hitches as she hesitates for only a moment, then presses herself against you once more, her hands grabbing at your sides before shifting south to run along your stomach. She pauses there for a moment, her eyes shifting down, glancing at your musculature. Her hand trails water across your abdomen, the golden liquid catching every ridge there. She watched it for a moment, still saying nothing, then, ever so gently. She places her lips against your shoulder, her touch is electrifying, in a different way than Ayako was… though you know you shouldn't compare. Ayako was… nervous yet overeager. Medea, as she kisses her way down your chest to your stomach, seems… far more in contro-

Your thoughts disappear as Medea grabs you by the ass, hoists you up onto the side of the pool. Then, without missing a step she plants her lips against the tip of your cock before, using hand to brush her hair to the side, slides her lips all the way down to the base. You see stars, your body jerks forward, your hands clamp onto the back of her head more instinctively than anything else, and your hips spasm. All the while, Medea lets out a little hum, her tongue tickling the bottom of your cock. Then she shifts her head back to the very tip. Her eyes shifted up, meeting yours, her cheeks dimpling in a smile even if her mouth couldn't, then she descended back down again slowly. Her motions smooth, her dancing dancing all over your organ. You watch, transfixed, as one hand of her moves to a breast, palming it and playing with it, all the while her head moved at increasing tempo, and not once did her eyes leave you.

"Me-Medea-" you groan. Unable to move, barely able to think.

Her pointed ears perk, and your hands snap down, grabbing onto the side of the pool as she pumps her head, again, and again, and again. Gaining in speed, your whole body tingled, jerked, and finally-

She drew her head back fully, her tongue playing over the tip. "Master?" Medea asks, then pushes her head all the way down, her nose squashing against your groin, the tip of your cock brushing the back of her throat. You peak, grunting and bending forward as you release into Medea's throat. Medea lets out another pleased hum, her throat massaging you as she swallows. She holds herself there for several moments, minutes, hours, hard to say. Before gently sliding her head back and free of you. You sit there, panting, foggy headed, watching as Medea tilts her head back, still swallowing. Before reaching beside you and producing a small jug. Still keeping her eyes on you, she places it against her lips and tilts it back, a dribble of purple liquid going past her lips to run down her chest and into the water. Setting it aside a moment later, she runs the back of her hand against her lips, then, placing her hands on either side of you, hoists herself up and into your lap.

She places her hands on your cheeks, tilts your head up ever so slightly, then plants her lips directly against your own. They taste sweet, and different now, like fresh grapes. Of course, any thought of comparison or… any thoughts entirely are lost as her tongue darts into your mouth, coaxing out your own into the air between the two of you, before she tilts her head, wraps her arms around the back of your head, and pushes forward, causing the both of you to fall to the ground. She continues to kiss you there, her hands dancing along your sides, your hands moving to her back, until, almost regretfully, she sits up, one hand planted still against your chest. Her own chest heaving with rapid breaths. Her blue hair sticks to her, caught on bits of her skin. Her breasts, modest bounce and jiggle with every little movement, her lithe stomach, taut and prepared, her groin… rubbing against your rapidly re-hardening crotch.

Then, a question that you realize may be stupid comes to the forefront. "Medea… isn't this… fast?"

Medea arches a brow, but doesn't stop her rubbing. "Only you would ask that Shirou," she closes her eyes, letting out a grunt as she finds a particular spot she likes, moving her hips in small circles against you. Her eyes open again slowly, partially lidded. "Tomorrow it may not be possible, I will take this while I still can."

"Oh be honest!" Circe's voice calls out.

You glance around Medea, to see the other witch lounging in the pool, hand between her legs, grin on her fac-

Medea's hand grabs you by the chin and turns your head to face her again. "Shirou, do you love me?"

"Yes." You answer without a moment's hesitation.

Medea pauses at that, her movements stopping. Then she smiles, it's a small smile. It's a faint blush to her cheeks, a genuine joy that seemed to radiate out from her. Then, reaching down, she takes your length and places it gently against her lower lips, then lowers herself.

You suppose before she simply wished to have sex with you in order to secure her position, but now… she was making love. And as you held her against you, as she danced atop you, as she cried your name to the ceiling and the both of you reached a release together, you felt it. You felt it as strong as you did for Ayako, and when Circe joined in a moment later, bodily throwing Medea into the pool so she could claim her stake.

Well.

You loved her as well.

—

The island was crumbling now, it was 'dead' before, a shell of its former self. Now as you stood by the cliffside overlooking the beach. You could only watch in mute fascination as bits of sand are pulled out to sea, never to return. More and more of the beach, of the rock, of the plantlife retreating into the blue abyss with every passing minute. A foot had disappeared since you had first walked out, within a day, there may be nothing left of the island at all. There is a tragedy to it, a sadness that you can't quite describe. History being lost, but then, did this island ever truly exist to begin with? You certainly couldn't say. How many Magus would kill just to be here for a moment? An island from the Age of Gods?

You suppose you didn't need an answer for that, and neither did Medea. You turn your head, watching as she approaches, her staff presses against the ground with every step, the grass fading away with its touch.

Medea stands beside you, watching the island die. Silence passes between the two of you, minutes perhaps. Then. "And history reclaims it, we shall not return here again. It will be lost and will not return."

"I would say the past should remain as such…" You say quietly. "But I'm a poor example of that."

"Indeed," Medea says, her voice drifting off into the waves. Then she turns her head minutely. "Shirou, what you spoke of earlier. Do you truly not care about my past?"

You shake your head. "If I did, would it change anything? It was a long time ago, and you can change it about as much as I can mine."

"I could have, once, and I wished to, once. But there are too many things I would have to sacrifice for it now. Things I wouldn't give up on." Medea lets out a sigh, turning her head towards the sky. "Two thousand years, in return for a week. Cronos would laugh."

You look up with her, staring up at the night sky. The island died, it remained. "I never would. Sacrificing these people, the people who have died, the innocents and the magus alike. To save others? Would that give my life purpose? It wouldn't. Sacrificing several, or even… even just one for many. It's not a trade I'm ever willing to make. So no, I don't care about your past, or mine. I'm more worried about tomorrow."

"... I suppose that is a fine enough answer." Medea says, a small smile on her face. Then, without another word she takes your hand. Circe appears by your other side, gently taking your other hand, and together, the three of you watch the island fade away.

—

It is in your own bed you awaken, the sound of morning birds audible through the window. You feel… rested, in more ways than one. Today… today you would hunt down that monster, today you would get answers from the Church, today you would end this war. But first… before any of that, you had people you had to check up on.

But one, far more important than any others at the moment. Sakura.

You went to her-

—

[] [And found her drained, barely alive, but… hopeful]
She couldn't help you, and you wouldn't have her servant leave her side. But she was recovering.

[] [Surprisingly energetic, ready to fight, and… manic]
Sakura was as you had never seen her before, she was going with you, she was insistent about that. But… she… she reminded you of yourself.