Yay, Takara and Galen "fluff". Well, as fluffy as they get.
Also, the plot thickens.
Yay, Takara and Galen "fluff". Well, as fluffy as they get.
Also, the plot thickens.
So it does. And I'm eager to see how this will go. Kieran's stuff is always enjoyable, after all.
Always nice to see Galen in his kind-of-fluffy knight mode. And now, the Sword of Griffindor is probably the most powerful magical artifact on the planet. And Dumbledore has it. Not sure if good thing.
Originally Posted by asterism42
But is Sirius confirming Galen's current suspicions, his ones when he first sent Sirus out, when he last contacted Sirius, or what Sirius thinks are Galen's suspicions?
I mean, I'm assuming: Voldemort, Nagini, Lucius, Sirius, Jr., and Sr. under an Imperious are in England at the Riddle property, and they've killed Bertha, but what else? Is Snape in contact with them? Is Jr. constantly away on deep-cover? Was Bertha just murdered, or turned into some kind of Menial Laborer Inferi? Has Voldemort assumed Baby Form, tried possession again, or gone ahead and created an adult-sized temporary body, since I think you confirmed he'll need the end of the Triwizard to make a permanent new body.
And of course, even if I spent the next half-hour typing out guesses and theories (I can't, by the way; little brother's B-day celebrations to get to), I probably would miss at least half-a-dozen big things.
Well, neither of them is exactly made for sweetness and light . . .
*shakes head* It occurred to me that for all that I'd mentioned about their being inseparable as children, and still the best of friends, I never really show a great deal of the pair of them, alone together. Takara and Shirou, yes, Galen and Hermione, yes - but not them. Strange, when they're supposed to be so close . . . So I thought the current situation called for a demonstration. They really are close, and comfortable. Galen will go to her when she's hurt, and she will tell him things she would never trust to another living soul - and vice versa.
Takara may debate with herself whether she's in love with him, but she does love him - and Galen will always love her. When I created them, I never envisioned them as lovers - my readers were, and are, the ones who believe in the possibility of that - but the two of them connected to each other, reflected in each other - that, I believed.
Actually, McGonagall/the school has it, so it might not be so bad . . .And now, the Sword of Griffindor is probably the most powerful magical artifact on the planet. And Dumbledore has it. Not sure if good thing.
You'll see - and give him my best.
I'd marry you for just these!
This line just sounds like saber making that miso soup confession of marriage.
xD and the plot thickens indeed.
Last edited by hatori; April 17th, 2011 at 12:03 AM.
I shall serve thy cause, upon my honour, till thy death.-Avenger/Jester. Trinity Series.Destined Legacies, shamelessly rewriting it since 2010
When I go random.
You know, the more I think about that last chapter, the way theMaster SwordSword of Godric Gryffindor is picking up powers/affinities/whatev is going to end up being very, very important, because I'm pretty sure that's not going to be the last one it picks up. I'm not quite sure how, though... maybe turning it into a sword-shaped wand at some point?
Sure, the basilisk thing happened in canon, but that was it, and from there, it gained the ability to destroy Horcruxes.
I'll give it two more years before officially calling it a NP.
Very interesting. So now the one who is far ahead in the tournament is the only one who isn't fully a wizard, but a veela, and the only one who has the complete education that a champion should have, huh?
Anyway, nice chapter. A bit of a breather, but the plot needed it. Now I want to know what were Galen's suspicions.
Spoiler:
Hmm - not exactly what I had planned, but maybe I can do something there.
.........Kieran, I'm sorry, but now I must kill you.
Why, you ask? Simple.
YOU KILLED RUBY-CHAN!!!!!
Fortissimo EXA//Akkord:Bsusvier Video Walkthrough: COMPLETE (thread here)
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Kisekitsukai (Seventh Chord) Playlist
Mahoutsukai (Magi) Playlist)
Final Arc Playlist
FGO Support Card (As of April 2023)Spoiler:
Hmm.Hmm - not exactly what I had planned, but maybe I can do something there.
Thus far the sword has brought glory slaying a basilisk and a dragon.
The sword will be used to destroy one of the Deathly Hallows. The ring almost certainly -- maybe others. Possibly the ghost will then be used to kill Voldemort's ghost. Or maybe it'll cut the Veil. This will give it a legend of being able to conquer death, or at least of being able to affect ghostly things...
Or the sword will cut a time-turner or the Kaleidostick once Voldemort has stolen it, having found it to be the source of his foes' powers! Actually, you should totally have it do that! The sword that slays monsters, cleaves evil, cleans windows, parts the veil of time, slices probability, and perfectly butters the bread!!
Don't forget it also makes julienne fries. Just be careful with the basilisk venom still on it, it makes making food a pain.
What is man? A miserable little pile of secrets. But enough talk... Have at you!
*whines* Did nooooot! She's still back in her own universe, all safe and happy - I just didn't use her! What I killed was the Kaleidostick's inherent need to screw with its users . . . Of course, with Rin's luck, she'll recreate the bloody thing.
Didn't mean to even imply that you should, but there's a reason there's "Master Sword" in there. There are way too damn many upgrades to that thing, and some of them you got in just flat-out weird ways.
DISCLAIMER: Lunar Legend Tsukihime, Fate/Stay Night, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon, along with anyone who's happened to license them, like Geneon or Funimation. Harry Potter and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of J.K. Rowling, along with her publishers and Warner Bros., as regards the movie material.
This is a not-for-profit, just-for-fun project.
Writer's Note: Certain dialogue sequences in this story are lifted from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, but I trust in the intelligence of my readers (and the availability of the books) to recognise them when they see them.
Chapter 22 - Dates, Desserts, and Disasters
November 28th - December 10th, 1993
The days following the First Task were something of a blur for Neville - the sheer relief of having survived his encounter with a dragon would have been heady enough, but added to the fallout of the others’ actions . . .
There had been a vicious battle over Takara’s method of dealing with the Hungarian Horntail. In one stroke (literally!), the population had taken a severe blow. Karkaroff and Madam Maxime were all for giving her a disqualification for excessive force, and Professor Dumbledore was “severely disappointed.” None of them, however, had reckoned with the anger of Professor McGonagall - or the Aozakis themselves. On learning the full details, Mrs. Aozaki had promised Luna’s paper absolute disclosure on Dumbledore and the Ministry’s decision, via Dumbledore and Crouch to jeopardise an endangered species and underage children for a publicity stunt - and Mr. Aozaki had threatened to duel both men on the spot - simultaneously.
Knowing the man’s reputation, Neville decided he’d have preferred to face the Horntail, himself.
The Ministry had been another problem. As a result of the exclusivity contract - a binding magical contract, as all the champions had been keen to remind them - the Daily Prophet could not legally interview, quote, or publish pictures of the champions. Any attempt to do so would result in immediate legal action on behalf of the Quibbler and their clients, the champions themselves. And while the Lovegoods might not have the resources to have the best solicitors available to them, the Einzberns could certainly afford to hire them - and the Longbottoms, while perhaps not as wealthy, had enough social cachet to do the same. The courts could be a long, expensive time sorting things out if the Prophet tried anything, rendering the Tournament’s purpose as a goodwill source for Minister Fudge almost useless. Only a small minority of the witches and wizards Britain read the Quibbler - though admittedly, there were more since the foundation of LAPIS, and the publication of the Wolfsbane Potion recipe last year.
And then there was Galen. The older wizard had been as grim as ever when he’d ushered them all (plus Rin and Ilyasviel) into the Room of Requirement the day after the Tournament, and told them what he’d learned.
“Voldemort’s active, he’s got Malfoy, Sirius, and Crouch Junior with him, and he’s planned something for the Tournament,” he had all but growled.
“You’re sure?” Shirou had asked.
“The source is about as direct as it can get - Kreacher.”
“Do you trust him?” Takara had asked sharply. “He’s a conniving, treacherous little -“ She’d broken off, shaking her head.
“He likes me,” Galen said simply, causing Takara to stare until he added, “The locket.” She’d nodded sharply.
Once upon a time, Neville might have just written off their conversation as “things I don’t really want to know,” or the kind of speech people who’d been together a long time could have - where they were so close they knew what the other was thinking without much need for actual words. In this case, however, he’d understood, as they’d all been briefed on the Horcruxes and how to get at them years ago, just in case.
“Did he know where they are?” Shirou had asked, and his thoughts hadn’t been hard to guess, either. An anonymous tipoff, or a trip over the Christmas holidays, and that threat could be dealt with quite handily.
Galen’s response had been a sigh. “Fidelius Charm - never let it be said that Voldie isn’t too proud to adopt a decent trick. And the Keeper’s Crouch Junior, so the Aurors couldn’t torture information out of the two Death Eaters they know to look for, because they think he’s as dead as his master . . . Which he is, but that’s not as dead as they want to believe.”
“What do we do?” Neville had asked.
“Keep our eyes open,” was Galen’s answer. “We know that Crouch Senior’s under the Imperius now, and that Junior’s capable of brewing Polyjuice Potion” - Hermione had shivered a little at that, for some reason - “so we look for anyone suspicious, particularly around the tasks. If Voldemort’s playing it smart, he’ll use somebody who’s only here at those times to minimise the risks, like Bagman. And we need to assume he is playing it smart, because he has before - but I’ll keep an eye on the Map, just in case. In the meantime, we concentrate on your surviving the Tournament, because it’s the more immediate threat.”
He paused, then added, “Actually, it might not be a bad idea to look up Junior’s school records when we have the time, and find out what else he can do - Sirius and Malfoy too, for that matter, just in case. Always handy to know what your opponents are really capable of.”
So more stress had been added to his performance, in addition to the troubles with the Ministry. Oddly enough, this was the least of things, as he measured it. Dangers like this had been happening to him for four years now, and he was used to this kind of stress, in a strange sort of way.
It might have been odder if we weren’t in danger.
Still, even as used to it as he was, on top of the rest it might have been enough to push Neville to the brink of going stark, raving mad - but there had also been another element added, which was just as stressful, in its way, and it boiled down to a simple concept that could be expressed in one word: respect.
Neville’s performance against the dragon hadn’t been as flashy or enchanting (he thought guiltily of Ilyasviel there - he hadn’t been able to see her from inside the tent, but he could hear, and she could really sing!) as the others’, but a number of the students apparently found it impressive nonetheless. He supposed that from an outsiders’ perspective, it was, as he’d basically convinced the dragon to hand him the egg it was guarding. Anybody who was close enough to see the spells he’d actually cast might not be as impressed - rumour was saying that he’d used a long-forgotten dragon compulsion spell - but then again, perhaps they would.
Parvati Patil said her Ravenclaw sister called the strategy “quite clever,” he reminded himself. And I know Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott in Herbology this morning were impressed - they kept talking about the power and stamina needed to cast the same spell so many times . . . His brow furrowed in confusion. Though I keep thinking they meant more than just that, somehow.
In any case, he was getting any number of enthusiastic greetings these days, and it was a quite a rush. They were impressed with him - not as the friend of Takara, Shirou, or Galen - just him. Nobody had ever been impressed by him before, not in his entire life so far.
Well, Galen and Takara were. And Shirou was impressed because they were. But practically the whole school? I never imagined it was possible!
. . . And it feels really good, he admitted to himself.
The pleasant feelings carried him through Care of Magical Creatures, even as he helped Hermione round up one of the Blast-Ended Skrewts after they’d escaped an experiment to see if they hibernated for the winter. Professor Hagrid didn’t want them hurt, but as Neville didn’t want to get hurt either, he fired off a quick Stunner. He wasn’t in Shirou or Takara’s league for accuracy, but he could hold his own - and it was too big a target to really miss.
“Well, well, well,” said a familiar and distinctly unwelcome voice. “This does look like fun.”
“Who’re you?” Hagrid asked.
“Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter.” The reporter’s grin flashed her gold teeth.
“Thought McGonagall said you weren’ allowed inside the school any more?” the big man said in surprise.
“She’s not,” Neville said loudly, drawing both the reporter and the professor’s attention. “It was very clearly stated that any attempt made by Ms. Skeeter to interview the Triwizard champions - ”
“Oh my dear boy,” Skeeter interrupted smoothly. “I’m not here to interview you. I’m here to do a story on Hogwarts. After all, it is the school being represented in the Tournament, isn’t it? By you, but it’s all about Hogwarts’ reputation, after all.”
Damn - she found a loophole, Neville fumed. He traded knowing looks with Hermione. This can’t be good - I’ll have to set Galen on her.
He glanced over to see the wizard in question looking at Skeeter through narrowed eyes, in a familiar and frequently terrifying expression - the one that meant he was deciding exactly how important it was to let someone live . . . Oddly enough, this time Neville felt a warm glow at the sight. He turned back to grin at Hermione - and was astonished to see her face had gone unexpectedly pale.
She’s afraid . . . But why? He blinked. With all we’ve set up to protect ourselves, how bad can Skeeter possibly be?
Worried now, but nonetheless confident that he and his friends could handle it, Neville turned his attention to another serious problem: the upcoming Yule Ball. It hadn’t been announced yet, but they knew about it, and he wanted to be prepared. He’d been to formal balls before, thanks to his Gran’s insistence on throwing and attending the things - and he knew how to dress, how to behave, and how to dance. Their martial arts practice over the years had helped him there. He’d managed to stop stepping on his partners’ toes, at least . . . But that said, even though he’d gone with girls before, he’d never actually had a real date - which he’d been told that the champions had to have.
So, where can I find a date?
The easiest place to start was his circle of friends - most of whom were girls, after all. He’d unofficially escorted Ginny and Luna to parties during the Christmas holidays once or twice, but while Ginny would undoubtedly enjoy the spotlight the Ball would put him under, he didn’t. Luna, on the other hand, would’ve been content to stay on the sidelines for most of the night and just enjoy watching the crowd, but formal events weren’t really her thing, so he doubted she wanted to go at all - she’d certainly seemed to indicate as much when Galen brought it up on the train.
Hermione would’ve been easy to go with as friends, and the smartest girl in Gryffindor was pretty enough to have nothing to be embarrassed about if she was singled out by being a champion’s date - but she had a date already, with Galen. And there was no force he could imagine that could get her to cancel that, much less for him. Takara might be an option - they were in the same boat as far as needing a date went. And if Takara wasn’t going to go with Galen or Shirou, she might have some trouble finding a date - her reputation wasn’t exactly comforting after killing the dragon. She wasn’t shy enough to fear the spotlight, but didn’t especially enjoy it, so he could probably fade into the background easily enough, and she wouldn’t mind.
But . . .
An image flashed in Neville’s mind’s eye: Takara and Galen, waltzing on New Year’s Eve - she with her usual breathtaking grace, he with an unconscious sense of her movements, her needs, and the determination to meet them. They moved so well together, and so easily, as though they were flying instead of dancing . . . The only other boy Neville could imagine rivalling that feat was Shirou, because he was that good, and they were that close. But it was more than that which made him doubt the idea of taking Takara - Neville wanted that, wanted to be with a girl he was so intimately connected to that they moved in perfect harmony without seeming to even need to think about it. And he wouldn’t have that with her. They were friends - good friends, he believed - but not like that.
Still, if neither of us can find a date, then maybe . . .
Neville shook his head. He had almost a full month to consider the idea, so there wasn’t an immediate rush, really. The Ball wouldn’t even be announced, according to Galen, for nearly two weeks. But it was something to keep in mind.
Ginny was proving to be her brothers’ sister, she thought, by sneaking into the kitchens for a quick after-curfew snack - there had been a custard at dinner she was simply dying to taste again. And while Ginny might not have an invisibility cloak or a magical map to help her evade detection, but she was petite in build, and good at moving both quickly and quietly, even without using her fox form. Moreover, she knew which portraits could see from which angles by now, having spent a lot of time in her first year here learning to avoid them.
That really isn’t fair, though, her mind pointed out. They don’t really need those things to sneak about. Galen’s pretty quiet, Shirou’s wicked fast for someone his size, and Takara’s a bloody ninja! Maybe not a giant turtle, but definitely a ninja.
Ginny smiled to herself. She hadn’t realised those creatures weren’t real the first time she’d watched the movies at Takara’s place - her world had things like dragons and house-elves in it, after all, so why couldn’t there be giant talking turtles? It made her wonder though, how many witches or wizards might do these “special effects” - was it called “Industrial Light and Magic” for a reason?
I do like the cinema, she admitted. It’s a lot more fun than listening to the wireless. I’m starting to understand what Dad likes about mundanes - I mean, with what we can do with Pensieves, photographs and portraits, we should have had motion pictures years ago. They don’t have any of those things, but they managed it anyway - and they keep trying to do things better. We’ve been using the Hogwarts Express since they invented locomotives, when the tube they have in London now goes so much faster. It wouldn’t take all day to reach the castle that way.
She smiled to herself. When they finally manage real lightsabers, I want one! Lightsabers are cool. As she tickled the pear gently to enter the kitchens, Ginny wondered if Luna and Hermione could help her figure out a way to build one with magic . . . The sound of someone crying - from the pitch, possibly a small child - broke her train of thought. She scanned the kitchens, and finally located the house-elf responsible - a very familiar house-elf. Occlumency training brought her name to the forefront of Ginny’s mind.
“Winky?” she said softly. “Are you all right?”
The tiny figure started from her hunched-up position on the stool by the fire, and peered at her with big brown eyes not unlike Ginny’s own, which quickly dampened with tears again.
“How did you come to be here?”
“Is only place that would take Winky after she - she was freed!” The last word was an anguished howl, and preceded even heavier sobs. “Winky is a bad elf, Winky was given clothes . . .!”
She leaped from the stool suddenly and began beating on the floor, resembling nothing so much as a child throwing a tantrum.
“Winky is a disgraced elf, Master was right to free Winky - !”
“No,” Ginny said sharply. “Winky is not a bad elf, Winky did as she was told, as best she could.” The redhead stopped, and readjusted her idioms. “Winky is a good elf.”
“Winky is disgraced, miss,” she repeated. “Winky has no family, Winky was freed - ” She began beating on the floor again.
Ginny wracked her brain. The poor thing was obviously unhappy, even here - a marked contrast to the other elves working busily at cleaning up the remains of dinner from the kitchen. Hermione would likely say she was better off being free - but was it really better for her to be so miserable?
“Winky has no family, but Winky keeps family’s secrets . . .”
Having been briefed at the beginning of the year, Ginny already knew what those were, so she wouldn’t upset Winky further by prying. But she didn’t want to leave the poor thing alone . . .
Bloody hell - this “saving people thing” is contagious.
She frowned. No Weasley had owned a house-elf in centuries - but if it was a family Winky wanted . . .
“Winky? If I can convince Headmistress McGonagall, would you like to work for my family?”
Wide brown eyes looked up suddenly. “Miss would . . . Miss would take a bad elf like Winky?”
“I would,” Ginny affirmed, smiling ruefully. “Don’t know how my mum would take it I did, though - she likes ruling her kitchen. But I’ve got three brothers, all out on their own. At least one of them could use looking after, and a couple are old enough to start thinking about marrying. It might not be as big a family as you’d like - but I’m the youngest of seven, and so was my dad, so with a little patience . . .”
“Winky can wait!” she bellowed with sudden excitement. She was standing now, and hopping from one foot to the other. Her eyes were sparkling, and Ginny could practically see her counting the babies in need of feeding, changing - and then there was all that washing . . .
“I still have to talk to the Headmistress,” Ginny warned. “She is your employer.”
Winky nodded so rapidly the redhead was afraid the elf’s would pop right off.
“Miss will be quick?” she asked eagerly.
“Quick as I can, Winky - hopefully tomorrow.”
“Thank you!” she carolled. “Young miss is the most wonderful, kindest, beautiful miss - ”
“All right, Winky,” Ginny said, unable to restrain a blush. “I’ll do what I can, as quick as I can, and come see you when it’s done, all right?”
Another nod at light speed.
“All right - good night, Winky,” Ginny said.
“Good night, Miss,” Winky said, looking better than she had when Ginny entered by several orders of magnitude.
It wasn’t until she was back in the dorm that Ginny realised that she’d forgotten all about the custard.
Hermione was sitting in the library, researching for the Tournament. While they’d already planned on using Gillyweed - and having the time, owl-ordered it from a magical plants distributor Neville knew of - the First Task had already proven the value of having backup plans handy. There was the Bubblehead Charm, of course - they’d already found it easily enough. But she wanted to be absolutely sure, because there was a very good chance that Shirou would be down there, waiting to be rescued by one of the champions - which meant even more of her friends would be in danger.
Rin sat beside her, going through the books. Fortunately, English and French used the same alphabet, so teaching her to read the language hadn’t been nearly as difficult as teaching her to speak it. And she was brilliant, even if, like Luna, she was a little strange at times.
“So,” Rin said idly, as she tapped her wand against the odd crystal piece experimentally. “Will you need any help getting a date for the Yule Ball?” The event had been announced that day at breakfast, and was currently the talk of the school.
Hermione paused for a moment. She had a date - she had virtually bullied Galen into taking her. But when that had happened, he hadn’t come within a hair’s-breadth of slaughtering a classmate and tearing the castle down around their ears. Given that every time he tensed, now, she was afraid something was going to die, the thought of being so close to him that she could feel every twitch of his muscles wasn’t as appealing as it had once been.
And she still wasn’t sure how to feel about what Takara had told her about Ron Weasley . . .
“Kuso!” Rin snapped suddenly, as red and green sparks erupted from where her wand met the crystal. “Stupid - idiotic - !”
“What are you trying to do?” Hermione asked curiously.
“Trying to fix this so that I don’t need my wand to activate it,” Rin said sharply. “Unfortunately, I seem to have repaired it enough to function, but not enough of the more delicate spellwork to make it operate as smoothly as it used to - it doesn’t seem to want to use its own innate magical guidelines over the laws of this reality.”
Hermione frowned as she took that in. “I don’t understand.”
“Since this place insists on using wands, it seems to only want to work when I use a wand on it - and it never had that limitation before.”
“That’s what I don’t understand - why didn’t it?” Hermione inquired. “You’re from an alternate timeline to the one Shirou, Takara and Galen come from, which is an alternate to ours . . .”
“With completely different physical laws and frames of reference,” Rin said. “It’s an alternate, yes - it still takes place on an Earth with magic, and the Gregorian calendar, and a lot of familiar stuff. But where we’re from, Hogwarts and that is all from movies and books.”
Hermione felt the blood drain away from her face, and devoutly hoped she’d misinterpreted that as she said, “Yes, they said that Harry’s story was made into movies and books for mundanes and wizards to enjoy . . .”
“And it was all created by some Englishwoman working as a waitress or something,” Rin said offhandedly. “I never really paid much attention - I was too busy refining my magecraft and preparing for the Holy Grail War. Who has time to deal with fictional wizards when there’s real sorcery to work with?”
“. . . Created?” Hermione whispered. “. . . Fictional?”
Rin finally glanced up from her work, her look shifting to one of sudden concern at whatever the Japanese witch saw on her face. “Hermione? Are you OK?”
Hermione was definitely not OK. She was numb. She was reevaluating her time at Hogwarts on the basis that it had all been fictional - that her entire life was fictional. And that they had known, the entire time . . .
. . . And that on a day two years, when Galen had sworn an absolute oath to tell her the complete truth - he’d lied to her.
“. . . Excuse me,” she said thickly, somehow getting up despite suddenly-numb extremities and great difficulty breathing. “There’s something I need to do.”
She had no sense of where she was going, and barely one of moving. She couldn’t hear anything past the roaring in her ears, couldn’t feel through the emptiness inside herself, and her vision was clouded, even as it searched relentlessly through the corridors, and the crowds. Once, she wouldn’t even have needed to look. Even if she hadn’t been with him, she would simply have known where he was - but she had been forcibly estranging herself from Galen for the last six weeks, and thus she had to look for him in order to find him. But it really wasn’t hard - outside of the library, there were only a few places he would be. And when she finally found him, it was in the ideal place - the paddock below Hagrid’s hut, near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Hermione rehearsed things in her head, and then approached him at a fast clip.
Galen no doubt heard her boots crunching through the snow, because he glanced up. Recognising both her and her obvious agitation by the speed of her stride, he set down the snow shovel and hopped to the fence to meet up with her sooner.
“Hermione, what is - “
Hermione used every ounce of speed bonding with the lioness had given her, a gift honed until she was at least Galen’s equal in reflexes, and possibly second only to Takara herself.
“Expelliarmus,” Hermione snapped. “Incarcerous. Muffliato.” The lignum vitae wand was hurled over the fence, and Galen would’ve followed, save for the ropes that caught him in mid-fall, dropping him in a cocooned heap - and with the final spell, no one would hear a sound over the winter winds.
Anger flashed over his face when she rolled him over to face her, to be replaced by bewilderment.
“Have you had fun playing with my life?” she demanded in a far too quiet tone for the rage that was seething through her. “Have you ever felt guilty about it? Or did you reassure yourself it was perfectly all right to play with me like a toy because, after all, I’m NOT REAL?!”
Last edited by Kieran; May 7th, 2011 at 11:47 PM. Reason: Formatting error
Damn it Rin, you always manage to fuck up at the worse possible moment.
Someone needs to have a talk with her.
Wasn't actually planning this - but variations on this scene have been floating in my head since I started this series, and never gone away no matter what I do - so I suppose it was inevitable. Eventually, you've got to take a hint. Now, of course, the question is "What the hell do I do about it?"
Well, honestly Hermione bondaging the crap out of him is going to make her less scared of him.
(Oh, there was a formatting error I fixed.)
You know... It's been so long since the story started that I'd forgotten that Galen hadn't told them the full truth regarding where they got their information from...
Oh boy... Let's hope this doesn't lead him to another suicidal tendency period. Then again, Shirou did warn him about manipulating girls. He has personal experience after all.
Heh, and even now Shirou is STILL suffering the consequences of manipulating girls. Rin hates him after all. But holyshit, I have no idea what's going to happen with Galen. He might really die this time, and surprisingly it might not be by suicide!
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