57

057 - Illya's doki doki night

Illyasviel von Einzbern

Step one was faking drowsiness to retreat early from the dinner table and having Liz assist me getting ready for the night without making Sella suspicious.

Step two was washing my body with her help until my skin sparkled, brushing my hair until it looked perfect and applying the best exertion-resistant make-up money can buy, all the while doing my best to rein my nervousness and anticipation to sit still and avoid ruining our hard work.

Step three was panicking upon realizing I forgot to bring a change of clothes, swiftly followed by enduring a tense wait alone in the bathroom while Liz slipped away to try and subtly retrieve them for me, all the while expecting Sella to burst into the bathroom at any moment, indignantly demanding to know what's going on.

Step four was… Well, I guess you can say feeling my heart trying to jump out of my throat when I hear the door open was step four, accompanied by sagging in relief when it was Liz who walked back in, carrying my lucky nightie with a victorious smile.

Step five was saluting Liz's selfless sacrifice as she created an opening for me to slip out of the bathroom and into Onii-chan's room past Sella's hawk-like vigilance.

All that effort, just to ruin everything at the last minute with a dumb mistake like a Tohsaka. Hurting my toe trying to kick a sliding door open didn't exactly make the sort of impact I was angling for.

But I'm not going to let that stop me! I've dreamed too much and for too long of this to give up just because of a speed bump in the way.

Granted, I used to picture this whole setup with more chains and leather, maybe whips and candles too. My fantasies involved a very specific power dynamic that I now know it's never going to happen. The possibility of adding Rin into them had never crossed my mind until very recently either, but that's not the point.

The point is that I'm in Onii-chan's bedroom, sitting on his bed and wearing something that leaves very little of my body to the imagination and very little of my intentions up to interpretation. I refuse to leave this room again while still being a virgin.

"Anything we can help you with, Little Big Sis?"

"Why, yes~" I feel my lips stretch into a predatory grin as I turn my head towards Onii-chan. I'm getting laid tonight or so help me things are going to go down in flames. "I'm fairly sure you two can help me with something~"

Onii-chan, being the always in control handsome bastard that he is, answers my smile in kind. Rin, on the other hand…

"I need an adult." She takes a step away, blushing like the virgin schoolgirl she is.

"I am an adult." I reply with a widening smirk. She won't remain a virgin for long if I have anything to say about it.

Rin tries to take another step back, only to find out that Onii-chan is now standing right behind her. By stumbling into him. A startled squawk escapes her lips and she tries to jump away, but Onii-chan is faster, swiftly wrapping his arms around her from behind and pinning her into place.

"Now, Rin-chan." Onii-chan says teasingly. "I know Little Big Sis kind of ruined the moment…"

"Hey!" I mean, that's fair. But still!

"... But I think we can just pick it up where we left it." He continues, without even acknowledging my protest. "What do you say?"

"Bu– Illya is right there!"

"Well, I don't mind her joining and I doubt she does either." He answers cheekily. "She certainly came prepared."

"That's not even the point!" Oh, Rin, your protests would be much more convincing if you could unglue your eyes from my thighs. "What if I mind?"

"Oh, my bad." Onii-chan apologizes easily, releasing Rin and sending me a wink. "Of course, if you don't feel like it anymore…"

"Don't worry Rin." I get the hint, seamlessly chiming in with my agreement and a sweet smile. "I'm sure I can handle Onii-chan myself if you have a headache or something."

The next thing I know, I'm hit in the face with a bunched-up shirt, swiftly followed by some other piece of cloth falling on my lap. Going by the texture, I'm fairly sure it's Rin's skirt. I hold the impulse to remove the shirt from my face to enjoy the view, because right now it's doing a good job at covering my face. I need a moment to hide the shit-eating grin on my lips or Rin will realize she's played right into our hands.

This girl really is too predictable for her own good sometimes.

Explicit content removed due to site rules and regulations, you can still find it on the QQ and Ao3 versions of the story.

"If anyone had told me things would end up like this a week ago…" Rin mutters, cuddling deeper into Onii-chan's embrace with a satisfied sigh. "I would've thought it impossible."

"I told you things would end up like this a week ago." Onii-chan comments amusedly.

"And I thought it was impossible." Rin retorts cheekily. "Hell, it's already happened and I still think it's impossible."

"Not impossible. Inevitable."

I huff in amusement. Poorly-fitting movie references? Really? That's surprisingly dorkly of Onii-chan.

"So… have the two of you noticed how similar you look beside each other like that?" I muse idly, eyes still going running over their naked bodies. "Same eye color, same hair tone… even the facial structure is similar."

"...Think your dad hid a secret twin from you, Rin?" Onii-chan asks after a contemplative hum.

"... Why does the idea arouse you?" Rin asks indignantly when she notices Onii-chan's member growing stiff again. "Why does the idea arouse me?"

"It would be kind of nice." I comment wistfully. "If we all turned out to be related somehow."

And that's how we start round two. We don't really stop until way past the point where I can keep count. The last thing I remember is cuddling between my maybe fraternal twin lovers as they chat about some inane thing or another.

"Which reminds me…" Onii-chan hums again. "I'll have to tell you later about some tricks only you and Archer could possibly pull off against the golden bastard." Oh, he's speaking with Rin, I don't need to pay attention then… "They might end up not being required, or even be feasible. But if you two ever see the opening…"

I don't catch everything, too tired and sore and satisfied to remain awake as Onii-chan's deep and soft voice slowly cradles me to sleep. But I still hear enough to catch a glimpse of the true character hiding behind his warm smiles and roguish good looks.

Even after committing to throwing my lot with his group, I had my doubts we'd be able to survive the backlash once the Einzbern main family caught wind of what we're doing here, fearing that he wouldn't be capable of the levels of ruthlessness required to fight off an old and well-established magus family.

I shouldn't have worried.

Atalanta Alter

Life is a delightfully simple business for a Berserker, even for one as lightly affected by the downsides of the class as Atalanta. Childrens must be protected, food must be eaten, pets and cuddles must be secured, preferably by children and while eating. For everything else, apply violence as required.

A feline tail sways idly as she watches over her Master sleep with a wide smile on her face, cuddling between two lovers after having finally gotten her way. This is a momentous occasion, even if a bittersweet one. The moment Master stops being a child and becomes a woman. A part of nature, a proof of growth, if also a sign of precious things left behind.

It's something, as the alpha male said, inevitable.

Mating is a natural process, Atalanta doesn't have anything against the act itself. It's the implications involved that earned her the moniker of Chaste Huntress. The expectations and pressures, social conventions seeking to restrict her freedom and deny her very nature. Concepts she can barely even grasp now, as a Berserker.

Leashes. Chains around her neck and wrists that she won't abide by. Well, that and the Oracle claiming marriage would've been her ruin. Had that race had taken place now, Hippomenes would've crossed the finish line face first… with an arrow sticking from the back of his head. Violence has a way to solve most of life's problems, after all.

But there's no point in what ifs. What matters is the here and now, and what she thinks of the current situation.

And, much to her surprise, Atalanta finds herself… approving.

Archer's Master is a fierce woman with a soft side for those she cares for and the sexual tension between Master and the twintailed girl has been blatant since the very start. Watching the two of them dance around each other these last days has been as amusing as frustrating.

Caster's Master is… Dangerous. Dangerous beyond belief, to the point that Atalanta would rather avoid direct confrontation if at all possible. It's sometimes hard to reconcile the sight of the easygoing and handsome boy with such a sharp sense of danger, but Atalanta's instincts have never steered her wrong.

But that's hardly a reason to turn down a potential mate. If anything, it only makes him more attractive. Reliable.

Yes, Atalanta doesn't disapprove of her Master's current choice in lovers. Maybe now she'll be spared Master's incessant attempts at seduction… Or maybe not. Feline ears twitch as the Berserker's imagination conjures uncalled for and unwelcome mental images.

A messy futon where naked skin intermingles erotically, with Atalanta herself in the middle of a pile of bodies. Master's lips on her own as delicate fingers comb silvery hair, soft thighs supporting her head like a pillow, unseen tongues teasing her breasts and strong hands sinking into her flesh as something hot and girthy teases her most sacred spot.

Too many fingers, too many tongues. It's not just Master and her two current lovers in the scene. There's also a hint of pointy ears peeking past familiar blue, a teasing grin under golden eyes, a flash of gold, a dash of purple—

Atalanta huffs harshly, shaking her head to dissipate the fascinating unwelcome fantasy. What she just pictured is impossible. And yet… so easy to believe. Her Master's sibling might not be so by blood, they might not have met each other even once before the war started, but…

There's no arguing they're family, Atalanta reflects, letting the cool night air freshen her overheated face. Golden Apples by any other name, every single one of them.