Aiko is a Dis-asster 01:

Aiko is a Dis-asster 01: 

Disclaimer: 

Hidden: Kitsu puts it well below, but  yeah. This story is not going to be super cheerful at times. Probably still comedic, but we are going to be dealing with unpleasant things like Fate’s dead apostles here. They immediately suck the joy and happiness out of anything they’re involved in. 

So far I’m just posting copies of this to my own patreon, but may come back and update this with additional links and the like as I build up my online profiles. 

Kitsu: 

There may be some mild themes of potential consumption of living and undead beings, as this is a DxD and Tsukihime and Fate crossover, but I think we can handle it as the comedic or serious moments they are when it comes down to it. Other than that, maybe yuri, mild sex scenes, and plenty of combat and horribly dark things happening to the world due to Aiko’s fuckup. 

For lack of better words, if you can find it in any other Fate or DxD fic, expect it here, if with likely a more lighthearted tone to it in the end. There will be trauma, there will be problems yes, but let’s be real here, it’s a Kitsuverse story. There will be plenty of cracky moments from time to time. 

As this story is in a broken world, expect glitches in the matrix. Your canon or fanon bs means absolutely nothing, because anything and everything is broken and needs to be fixed and balanced by these two before it can be more stable. 

Which means a lot of beings will die, in suitably horrific ways. So don’t be surprised when someone pops up and is promptly murderified due to a Dead Apostle or some shit. 

Worst part is, most people are unaware of this happening, so Tammy and Arty are going to have to fix this shit all on their own. 

And so I pray, give me more money so I can eat better while writing this plz. 

https://aikoakiyoshi.carrd.co/ 

My patreon is on there, so is my discord. Come say hi. 

Falling from the sky at Mach eleven was something most fleshy beings did not want to experience. Let alone a fluffy bundle of fox fur that was about as durable as the average fine China set in comparison to even your average heroic spirit. 

“Daaaammmn you Aiiikoooooooooo!” the nine-tailed kitsune claimed, her light-tan colored tails splaying out behind her as she cast a flight spell to slow herself down. 

By the time she had slowed herself enough to no longer be at risk of outright turning to paste, she was inches from the ground. Thus, with a painful squawk, she impacted the soft earth, the heat from her re-entry almost instantly setting the forest ablaze. 

“Hack, cough!” she choked out as she lay on the ground, hearing another, much louder thud nearby. 

A moment passed, and then two. Tamamo sighed, picking herself up and casting a basic healing spell to clear up any lingering wounds and burns she might have gotten from re-entry. 

“Hello?” Tamamo asked, trying to sniff out where the other person had fallen within the merrily burning trees and failing miserably. “Did someone else here get slam dunked by a goddess?” 

There was a beat. Then, after a short pause, a voice spoke, “Did. Did I explode?”  Shortly afterward, there was a faint rustling and pained groan from the nearby crater. 

Tamamo sighed, brushing her short pink hair with a hand to shake out the dirt. “Can you move?” she asked, making her way over to the somewhat molten crater with a frown. “Because I don’t think I really want to come pull you out of a burning crater if you can move on your own.” 

“I think so?” the figure said, rising to a seated position. The ground was still smoldering if not full on molten around the figure, with smoke obscuring some of them, but even there Tamamo had to suppress a wince.  

She had controlled her fall, mostly. The person in the crater hadn’t. Cuts and scrapes, alongside burns, were over a good portion of her body, and her armor looked dinged up. Fortunately, it was already repairing and healing itself.  

Slowly, the blonde-haired woman stood up on shaky feet, stumbling once before righting herself in the solidifying but still hot ground she had imbedded in. “Where...am I? What happened? Wait, what is wrong with my voice—” she trailed off, staring at her hands in confusion.  

“You good?” Tamamo called down, brushing some soot from her light blue kimono. “I am having a bit of trouble seeing or smelling anything much with all the burning dust in the air, so we should probably leave as soon as you’re able.” 

The woman looked up at her with an unreadable expression. “Frankly, no, but I am processing and would like to get out of this crater. My legs are still burning and healing and it is distinctly unpleasant.”  She then jumped upward to land and stumbled next to Tamamo. 

“Alright,” Tamamo nodded, “let’s get out of here before something powerful shows up.” 

The woman nodded distractedly, then paused. “Um. Where to? All I see is forest. And forest fires.” 

“I’m going to lead you upwind,” the kitsune told her with a smirk. “These whiskers aren’t just for show, so I’ll be able to get you out of here soo—” 

The roaring of a twin-engine plane cut her off, a massive deluge of water crashing down on top of them and soaking them entirely. It also had the side benefit of clearing up a lot of the forest fires around them. 

“Ugh,” Tamamo grunted, looking more similar to a drowned cat than a fox as she turned to the blonde in her armor with pitiful eyes. 

“This sucks,” she told the armored woman. “My first day as The Tamamo in this world, and I’m soaking wet and the world is burny…” 

There was silence from the armored woman for a moment, only disrupted by the hiss of rapidly cooling metal and steam from her armor. “Agreed.” 

“I would very much like to freak out right now as I have many, many, questions, but I think I want to leave this place first and foremost before something else happens. I am—” her words seemed to catch themselves in her throat. “I guess I’m not that anymore, am I? For now, call me Artoria.” 

Tamamo held out her hand and beckoned the woman forwards with a sigh. “Sorry to get you dragged into shenanigans with my goddess. I generally don’t expect Aiko to actually show up and yoink me or my collaborators in real life usually.” She paused for a minute, and thought about her words carefully, “Though I write about it happening a lot.” 

Artoria reached out, hesitating a moment before she firmly gripped the offered hand. 

With that, Tamamo smiled, and began to run with her like a dog that had found a bone. Her speeds — which she carefully kept to sub-sonic so as to not create shockwaves with every step — were enough that had she not been a super fox, she probably would have been smashing through every tree in a straight line to her destination. As it was, she managed to keep from hitting anything on the way out of the forest. 

Once they were far enough away, Tamamo looked back with a smirk. “If there are planes here, it is probably not too far from modern times at least!” she grinned, barely dodging another splash of water as they rushed away from the fire. 

“Most likely, but I also was relatively certain all of this was pure fiction about an hour go. At this point, the flying spaghetti monster could tell us we must destroy the bread of destiny to save Cheesetopia and I would not be terribly surprised. Well, that’s a lie, but point stands.” 

A moment later she added, as an afterthought, “I would also very much like to find a nice closet to scream in right now, but I would settle for a pillow.” 

“I would gladly offer mine once we have a safe space to settle down,” Tamamo told her with a knowing grin, her tongue poking out cutely. “Unfortunately, it looks like that might be a whi— huh…” 

They came to an abrupt stop outside what looked to be a small town rest stop, a sign holding a particular set of golden arches. Tamamo slowed to a stop outside it, and sighed. 

“So there are even McDonalds in another world,” Tamamo groaned. 

Artoria exhaled loudly through her nose. “I expected little about this new life, and even here I am disappointed.”  

With that, a monstrous rumble came from her belly. She sighed.  “Nothing for it, I suppose.” With that, Artoria steadfastly marched toward the entrance. 
 

“Bruh,” the pink-haired kitsune exhaled, turning Artoria around with a look. “…Maybe not in armor.” 

Artoria froze. A faint dusting of pink colored her cheeks. “Um. Right. How do I...” 

Light flashed up and down Artoria’s form, revealing mixed progress.  She was, at least, wearing a dress. But she was also wearing greaves, one gauntlet, and had somehow put her helmet back on. 

“Haaaaaah,” Tamamo sighed, “I think we need to see a doctor for that concussion. There is zero way you aren’t completely concussed.” 

Light flared once more. Artoria now was, at the bare minimum, in a simple blue dress. It perhaps wasn’t a great dress for the environment, the weather, or, say, McDonalds, but it was a modest improvement over whatever that was a few moments before.  

Artoria said nothing. She pivoted and marched away practically bleeding embarrassed energy as she made her way to the doors. 

Looking after the woman with a hint of worry, Tamamo realized something important… They had no money. 

“Aikooooooooooo!” Tamamo called up to her goddess with a groan. “We need money!” 

Within seconds, a pair of cards wreathed in nuclear fire smacked her in the head and got stuck in her skull, knocking her out on impact. 

~~~~ 

Twenty minutes and one ice pack for Tamamo later, the being now known as Artoria had mixed feelings about her present situation. 

On one hand, being violently isekaied via a deranged goddess for reasons she was still very much process was a bit startling. An understatement, admittedly.  

Hurling into the earth with next to no prep or forewarning at speeds more akin to meteor impacts was also deeply unpleasant. Accessing memories of her new body showed she could have done more to stop arrest her fall, but in her defense, she had essentially fused multiple consciousness into one body while also hurling at somewhere the speed of sound to the earth.  

There was also a deep and unsettling feeling pressing on her about just where she was, the reality of her new existence, the implications therein, and more. 

However, if she focused purely on the present, she was most taken aback and utterly appalled by the abomination on the tray before her. Numerous other wrappers from twenty burgers lay around the tray in neat piles, but that did not take away from the thing occupying the center of the tray. 

It looked innocuous enough. It was a sandwich. Technically a burger, composed of beef, lettuce, cheese, and tomato wrapped in pita bread. Not the most unusual thing in the world. However, its name was the abomination. 

The McAfrica. 

Finally, after a very, very long silence on it actually being served and not some sick joke, Artoria spoke.  “I am deeply uncomfortable with this burger’s mere existence.” 

“I can’t believe you left me lying there for ten minutes with a pair of smoking credit cards in my skull while you tried to order a burger without money,” Tamamo groaned, nursing her tea while she munched on one of the fries they had ordered. 

After a moment, she groaned. “And why did you order a McAfrica burger? It’s a mockery to all that is fast food!” 

Artoria carefully ignored the first part of her statement as that way lie only further embarrassment. Instead, she focused on the real subject of her disquiet.  

“I genuinely did not think it was real. In no sane world would someone make this and think it is real. I’m not sure what year it is, but I’m pretty sure famines in Africa have been commonplace for over a century at this point. This...this is the most culturally insensitive food I have ever born witness to.” 

“It’s Norway,” the kitsune sighed, “I don’t think they really understood the meaning of what they did, let alone have any malice about it. They were definitely just drunk.” 

Artoria did not respond. She just kept staring at the burger. Her hunger had mostly abated by this point. In her old life prior to Aiko’s nonsense, the idea of eating twenty burgers in one sitting was nauseating. Here, well, it felt like barely quenching a raging fire in her belly. 

No wonder all Artorias were big eaters.  

Reluctantly, Artoria downed the distasteful burger. Unpleasant or not, she would not waste food. That was one imperative from her old life that resonated strongly with Artoria’s own experiences with hunger. 

The burger wasn’t even that good. 

Artoria dabbed at her lips with a napkin, not that much if any food had escaped her gaping hunger. She cleared her throat. “Well, I guess we need to talk shop, now. Could you make it so others can’t hear us?” she said, gesturing vaguely at their surroundings as some customers continued to stare at them. 

Tamamo giggled, drawing a set of symbols on a napkin with her ketchup packet and allowing a moment for Artoria to notice that the rest of the room became noticeably quieter. “I’ll do you one better. They all think we’re cosplayers now and will only hear things related to our ‘stream’ of shenanigans in Norway.” 

“That will work,” Artoria said, staring at the arcane napkin. It was weird, but— 

Unbidden, a memory of Merlin doing something similar came to mind, but it was wine and a very busty barmaid’s cleavage. 

Artoria blinked. Then, she blinked again, for good measure. Merlin had done this multiple times. She remembered this. In detail because she also remembered the pure exasperation enveloping her as Merlin yet again dragged her to a seedy taverns to discuss something of vital importance to Caemelot’s safety, but often with a barmaid in his lap. It was as if decorum was foreign to the mage’s mind.  

The rush of memories faded. That was going to take some getting used to. Noticing Tamamo still waiting, she cleared her throat again. “As I was saying, we need to lay out what we are...doing, here. Inaction isn’t exactly an option here. So, correct me if I am totally wrong, but Aiko, more or less, screwed up on a catastrophic scale?” 

“So basically, from what I can understand, she got into a fight with Akane over which worlds the other fox was allowed to industrialize full Adeptus Mechanics style, and pretty much walked off in a huff to go sit down on her couch,” Tamamo groaned.  

Tamamo sighed seeming to deflate a little, a French fry hanging from her lips as she spoke, “The problem with that was that she drank a little too much of the Vodka Sayuri offered her from Sumire’s private stash. So, she missed the couch entirely and sat her fat ass on three worlds somewhat close to a convergence event, smashing them together into an unrecognizable paste. And then had to do the equivalent of magical mass resurrection and reality coding, on a fried PC that she barely glued back together with child-friendly paste.” 

Artoria facepalmed. “That is even stupider than I expected, and I expected incredibly little as it stood. At least it was more than I got.” She raised her voice slightly in a poor interpretation of the goddess. “’Eww, those things are yucky, go fix it. Bye.’ That is all I got before I was smashed into Lancer Artoria’s body and sent careening to the earth. I didn’t even get a ‘how to not crash horribly’ manual.” 

Tamamo finished her fry and took another one. “Sounds like she doesn’t have a bad opinion of you at least,” Tamamo nodded. “I bet if we fix whatever she’s tossed at us this time, we’ll get some pretty bullshit boons for it. That’s her usual MO at least.” 

“One can hope. I swear to God if I get body dysphoria out of this,” Artoria muttered. “But, let me guess, was she specific — at all — on what we actually need to do to fix this mess?” 

“Uh no, just that the world needs to be un-shittified,” Tamamo groaned. “It still has some cracks in reality, so we gotta patch those up ASAP, but other than that I have no idea what we’d need to do to accomplish that.” 

Artoria grunted. “So, the problems could be anything from marauding tentacle monsters from beyond the void terrorizing schoolgirls to the active decay of reality by forgotten gods to just stuff like the matrix breaking. This is going to be a headache, I just know it. Do we even know which worlds were involved in this convergence event Aiko sat her fat butt on?” 

“Not really, but I’m assuming the Nasuverse has something to do with it, based on who we are incarnated as,” Tamamo grinned, crossing her arms under her chest. “I mean it would be funny if this was a crossover with worlds entirely unconnected to it, and we were just tossed in as this for the shiggles, but that isn’t likely.” 

“True, would be rather strange if we were involved in a world convergence event with One Piece, Rising of the Shield Hero, and Berserk of all things.” Artoria shuddered. “I guess priorities right now are figuring out where we are, world wise, when we are, what is going on, and figuring out what is going wrong.” 

Artoria sipped her coke. It was odd and sickly sweet to her tastes now. But it was additional fuel, so it went down her gullet. “At least, it could be worse. We are reasonably well equipped to handle most problems that come our way,” she said.  

Unbidden, she held her hand out. Part curiosity, part idleness, part demonstration, she focused and summoned the weapon she was most famous for. It was locked away in her soul, but it heeded her call, if...sluggishly? 

Alarms rang in her head. That was not right.  

She may be an amalgamation of beings now — an author from one world and the remnants of a goddess once called Artoria who had walked away from The Battle of Camlann instead of finding her end there , but there was more than enough left to know this lance. She knew every detail of it, every tiny facet, the length, its heft, its dimensions, every slight aspect of its silvery, sacred snow-like metal, of the overwhelming power within restrained by thirteen seals.  

Rhongomyniad, the spear of the end. Divine construct, manifestation of the tower that holds up the reverse side of the world and anchors reality as they know it. Her lance. 

What came to her hand was wrong. 

It looked like the lance. It felt like the lance. But, striking down the entire length of the lance’s blade, was a crack. A hideous, fractal crack gouged through the divine metal. 

Artoria couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t react. She could only stare at the ruin beheld before her. 

Pain erupted in her chest. She coughed blood all over the tray. 

“What the hell!” Tamamo called to her, seeming unsure and panicked over the blood loss. “Are you okay? Did the McAfrica burger fight back against your belly?” 

Artoria wiped her mouth, the shock pervading her receding as a cold, foreign, discipline came over her. It was still there, but panicking would not help. “No, it’s not the burger. Tamamo, do you see the lance?” she said, holding it up. She almost trailed a finger down the crack but refrained. The pain in her chest was worsening, like a spinning, red hot razor, but she had to endure, had to explain the issue. 

“Yes?” Tamamo asked, not entirely getting it. “We can get it repaired somewhere if that’s what you need…” 

Artoria shook her head. “I don’t think it’s that easy. This is Rhongomyniad, Tamamo.” Words came to her, knowledge not her own, even phrasing she didn’t know, but she let it flow.  

“This...shouldn’t be possible. This is a divine construct. This is the manifestation of the Tower of the End that holds up the reverse side of the world. To break the spear would require something that would also destroy the world. And no, not something like an anti-world noble phantasm, although technically that could qualify. This would require the literal splitting of the planet and the annihilation of all life in one fell swoop.  To be cracked...” She trailed off. “It shouldn’t be possible. The spear is more durable than most servants, divine spirits, even gods. It should have outlasted the world.” 

“Well shit,” Tamamo looked at it in worry. “Well, maybe some of the Norse Dwarves can fix it? We’re in Norway after all.” 

Artoria opened her mouth again. The pain was getting worse. She promptly coughed up more blood. 

“Holy shit we need to fix that!” Tamamo grimaced, a healing spell flying from her fingertips in the form of a talisman while she stuck a paper doll in the blood. 

The doll immediately began taking damage at an alarming rate as cracks and discoloration sped up and down its body.  

Finally, and in something of a panic, Artoria dismissed Rhongomyniad. The pain immediately lessened from agony to a dull ache in her chest, already receding as the lance withdrew into her soul. She coughed, thankfully without blood this time but the sound was decidedly sickly and wet. 

“I think I shouldn’t have that out unless absolutely necessary,” Artoria said with a grimace. “The Nasuverse being involved is confirmed. Not even sure I could summon the real thing in a disconnected world, but for it to be like that? Aiko must have really broken the worlds for that to be cracked.” Then, she smiled. “I think we have our first thing to fix, at least.” 

“No shit,” Tamamo groaned. 

“I guess the next step is to find some dwarves,” Artoria said. Then she looked down at the blood covered table. “And clean this up. I am not leaving this much of my own blood for some weirdo to find and use for God knows what.” 

~~~~ 

AN: 

Kitsu: So Foxxo is fluffing in a new story with an English teacher Artoria as Tamamo-no-Mae because Aiko was drunk and sat on a few worlds. That Cake is definitely not a lie huh. She be so thick that her ass became death, destroyer of worlds. 

HiddenMaster: That isn’t an inaccurate description of the ridiculous premise that is this story. First time collaborating on a story, but fun so far, and hope everyone reading is going to enjoy the ride. 

Kitsu: And now, for the website plug. Plz feed the foxxo, foxxo is hungry and needs to pay the bills. My website has all my payment sites, including Patreon and Subscribestar, along with Ko-fi and Throne. You can find it at https://aikoakiyoshi.carrd.co/ and it will help me a lot! 

HiddenMaster: I'd also appreciate the support support. Finally stepping into the world of actually posting my works rather than hoarding them like some dragon, so any support, comments, etc., is appreciated. 

Hidden's patreon and KoFi is here: 

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Thanks for Reading and Stay Fluffy!