#funny but really strange and mysterious uncle you know nothing about? definitely | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

studentville-struggles · 4 years

Text

A Double Life

Chapter 4!

A self-indulgent Daniel Ricciardo fic.

Summary: Returning to old passions results in the start of chaos and living a double life. We say we hate chaos, but the thrill is unlike anything else.

Words: 1,709

Masterlist // Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

You may have been young but that did not mean a FIA gala wouldn’t result in a two day hangover. God bless past Rachel for booking the day after off. You couldn't actually communicate appropriately just how crap you were feeling and your film crew were loving it. They may not have been able to go into the gala with you but they did get to do a good before and after comparison. Unfortunately for you, you had to return to the lab on the second day of your hangover and your office mates were oh so giddy at calling out how deathly you looked.

Despite the severity of your hangover, you could remember a surprising amount of the night. Although, you did wake up with a mysterious number texting you and didn’t remember giving it away so that might have been a lie.

You remembered dancing with teammates new an old. You remembered collecting your award. You remember telling Lewis, Daniel looked fit as fuck. Oh shit. Damn that free wine. You remembered Lewis dragging you over to chat to Daniel and Max, disappearing as soon as you were chatting.

You remembered rolling your eyes at something Daniel said, you remembered him taking your hand to twirl you around in your dress, complimenting the style. You remembered laughing. You remembered thinking he wasn’t a dick. You remembered him walking you to your taxi. You weren’t sure, however, how accurate your memory was of the feeling of his lips on your cheek as he said goodnight.

What the hell happened and where the fuck was Lewis.

Other than the whole Daniel fiasco, the night had been possibly the best of your life. Your friends in F2 were buzzing with team mix ups and a couple of you progressing up. The people you knew in F1 were lovely and very complimentary of your season. So many people were congratulating you on your new contract that you could barely stop smiling from thinking of the season to come.

Dancing for hours on end, everyone seemed to be happy. The feeling of being overwhelmingly happy, nothing but joy and laughter, was one would could never forget.

However, despite the remaining headache to remind you of the night, you were back in reality, roasting in your lab. Happy with the explanation that you'd ‘had a big night’, your lab-mates were happy to joke and poke fun at your mis-fortune. With your office being on the 9th floor, and your lab on the 11th, it was always on the warmer side of things. You could definitely testify that a loud, warm environment was not where you wanted to be when you were hungover.

A couple of weeks after the gala you were fully into your newest off-season training programme, but with all the other drivers not having the limitations of a second job, they were feeling far more social than usual. There were more texts, more twitch streams, more fun. You were, however, in your final year of your PhD, drowning in lab work and data that needed analysing. You didn’t know if you could handle any more stress and yet life was continuously saying ‘lol sure’.

Seeing the lighter side of your friends in the driving world was nice. You couldn’t wait to have that freedom after your PhD. You loved it, you truly did. You loved science; you loved the methodical nature of it, you loved the sample preparation – no matter how much you complained about do it. It was wonderful, but you knew your heart was truly in driving and you couldn’t keep up doing both. It was slowly taking its toll, you knew that. Burn out was inevitable really.

One more year. You just had to do one more year, and a little more because let's face it you were going to run over time on this... you worked three days a week instead of five or seven.

Lewis was becoming an evermore important person to lean on and learn from. The odd weekend you spend with him when he was on his uncle duties brought you so much joy and reminded you of the need to spend time with family and friends and keep a social life.

Sitting down with Lewis, one of the rarer times you allowed your mentor times to be filmed, you sunk down into the sofa and got comfy. You may have been in a reality show but the illusion that every waking moment is filmed, is in some cases, well an illusion. You hadn’t planned anything for this meeting so you had assumed this would be a more personal one. Though you couldn’t quite have imagined just how personal.

“Heard you had a rough couple of days after the gala” You scowled at him

“You would know, you facetimed me every other hour to laugh at me.”

Lewis had found your exceptional hangover hilarious. You did not appreciate that. Although now you were no longer hungover you could definitely see the funny side of things.

The two of you sat and discussed your various plans for the off season; what family time you had planned and when you were hoping to go travelling and where. With the first race of the year being in Australia, you couldn’t wait to get out there and explore, as well as acclimatising as much as possible to give yourself the best possible start.

Somewhere deep in the back of your mind was a niggling thought, a small suggestion of ‘what if you bumped into Daniel when you were out there?’. You pushed that right back down as soon as it reared its head. There was no way you’d bump into anyway – Australlia is bloody massive! Also why Daniel? Ricciardo and yourself had only spoken a handful of times since the gala, although to conceded he was only a little bit of an arse now.

Almost as if he could read your mind, Lewis dived right into the ‘any boys’ line of questioning.

“I don’t exactly have time for a relationship right now; between the training, race prep and all my lab work I have to catch up on” You explained, a small amount of panic starting to rise as you began remembering all the work you have planned, papers your supervisor wants written.

As Lewis began shaking his head at you, a notification popped up on your phone.

“Heard you’re heading to Oz early.” Dan’s message caught you off guard. You’d only very loosely planned things with your family about travelling out. Although almost as soon as you’d finished reading a strange warm feeling was making itself known, a little lopsided smile gracing your cheeks.

“What’s got you grinning like a school girl?” Lewis asked, leaning over to try and get a glimpse of your screen.

“Nothing!” You locked your phone and tucked it under your legs, a guilty grin now facing Lewis.

Perhaps you wouldn’t have to bump into him after all.

You didn’t know what was going through your head but you didn’t like it. You couldn’t be getting warm non usual feelings for anyone that was a competitor. Friendships were good, we liked those, until you sort through weird drunk gala memories, you were not okay with the weirdness stirring within.

After heading home a couple of hours later, you lay in the darkness of your room, tucked under the safety of your sheets, finding yourself texting back the one person who might cause you trouble this next year.

Arguably the most intense and important year of your life, and what were you doing? Adding to the chaos.

You did say you lived for the drama. All you would have to do is wait for the end of the off-season and see what Australia would bring for you.

Australia brought a lot. Mostly heat, but a lot of other stuff too.

Australia was a stunning country, and having a local tour guide definitely helped. You knew how important family time was for Daniel when it was off-season, it was the worst kept season in F1. He very graciously offered to be your tour guide for the couple of days that you were spending exploring Perth.

He took you around the local spots; the best shopping, the best food, the best bars and the best beaches. You couldn’t deny that there was a definite friendship blossoming between the two of you. Things just seemed to click, it was easy now.

Getting back into the paddock was a feeling you could never describe. It was relief, excitement, joy, nerves, it was a mix of everything. It was like a switch was flipped in your mind. You could feel the buzz of being back in the car again rushing through your veins.

Although first; media.

Being your rookie season, there was a lot of attention on you and what you could produce. A lot of people were excited by your arrival back on the racing scene. Some were pissed beyond belief. Some hated the fact you were a woman in F1; how dare you take a man's seat in this sport. It was safe to say a lot of people were expecting, if not hoping, you would fail and fail fast.

Thankfully a good majority of the fans you met were lovely and put a huge grin on your face. Cheeks almost hurting from all the smiling you were doing.

your favourite interview was with Sky Sports F1, a bit more informal as you were wandering around the paddock towards the end of thursday. It was just fun. They chatted about your comeback, how you seemed to be dominating everything you tried; they chatted about your budding friendship with Max and Lando on twitch; the importance of having a mentor like Lewis. It was everything you wanted in an interview. The last question you found the best.

“How are you finding the new media world and increased interviews. Does it feel weird having all the cameras around now?” You couldn’t help but smile. You turned ever so slightly and pointed off to the side where you could see some of your production team for the tv show.

“My life is already filmed 24/7; I am very used to it.”

#studentville struggles #rachel tries to write #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fic #f1 fics #f1 fic #danny ric #in love with danny ric

123 notes · View notes

prolestariwrites · 4 years

Photo

The Wish [3]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC Rating: General Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

Now posted: Chapter 3, in which Dante comes face to face with his past, and a weirder version of his present, over some chicken parmesan.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Chapter 3: Family Dinner

The entire ride to the restaurant, Dante spends his time half-listening to Lir talk about her day and half looking at everything. They are in Red Grave City, but it’s different: cleaner somehow, less polluted, less scummy. They pass a few familiar landmarks on their way through downtown from where their house is in the more residential part of the city, and at one point go by a turnoff that will take them to the shop. Dante perks up a bit but she makes a left instead of a right, and he presses his lips together, wondering if he should ask her to turn around. But he decides against it in the end; the city looks strange enough as it is, and if they roll up to the Devil May Cry and it’s a hair salon or something he just might lose it.

Dante is nervous as hell when Lir pulls their car into the parking lot of the Italian restaurant. She breathes a sigh of relief as she turns off the engine and unbuckles her seat belt. “Five twenty-five,” she says with a grin. “Now we don’t have to listen to Vergil complain about us being late.”

He only nods as they climb out of the car, and he quickly scoots around so he can shut her door for her. Lir gives him a thanks before taking his hand, heat crawling up his neck as they head into the restaurant.

“Sparda family,” she tells the hostess as Dante looks around. It’s a smaller kind of place but lots of atmosphere, the lighting a bit low and Frank Sinatra playing quietly on the speakers. Dante stares at the huge fish tank next to the entrance as the hostess makes a note in the guest book. “You have a table in the back. This way,” she says.

Lir’s hand is steady on his as they follow to the back of the restaurant. But it’s enough to make him go numb when sure enough, Vergil is sitting at the table, talking to Lady. Lir calls a greeting and he stands up to give her a kiss on the cheek before turning to Dante. “What’s wrong with you?” he asks, looking him up and down.

Dante realizes he probably is gaping, so to cover his shock he shakes his head. Vergil snorts and moves to sit back down, but Dante reaches out and grabs his arm. He pulls his brother into a hug, squeezing him hard, and after a moment he can practically feel the stares from everyone else around him.

Easing back, he smiles sheepishly at the very confused-looking Vergil. “Good to see you, Verge,” Dante grins, clapping him on the arm.

“Okay…”

“Lady! Looking good!”

The others look at him funny, and Lady folds her arms. “Why are you calling me that?”

Dante scratches his chin. “Ain’t that your name? Lady?”

“That’s not some lady, that’s my wife,” Vergil scoffs. He turns to Lir and asks, “Did he suffer some kind of brain damage?”

“No, he’s just joking. Badly.” Lir tugs on his sleeve and says, “Come sit. Do you want to sit next to Mary or to Vergil?”

“Mary. Right.” Dante clears his throat as she steers him to a seat, taking the one between him and Lady. Or Mary. Whoever she is.

The two women start chatting and Dante stares at Lady, noting how different she looks without the blunt haircut and the scar on her nose. She still has the heterochromia, but her dark hair is down to her shoulders, and Dante notes that she’s actually wearing normal pants and a blouse and not some too-small schoolgirl uniform or looking like a step above a stripper.

Lady shoots him a look with a wry smile. “Why are you staring? Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” Dante answers quickly. “Sorry. Guess I haven’t uh… seen you in a while?”

“Yeah, things have been busy.” She picks up a glass of red wine and takes a sip. “How is business going?”

Dante wonders himself, but replies, “Good. Going good.”

“Good to hear.” She turns and calls to the other end of the table, “Boys? Did you say hello to your uncle?”

He glances down, his eyes going wide. How did he not notice the two sitting at the other end? Vergil is talking to one, a boy of about ten or eleven with longish silver hair, just like he and Vergil have. It’s the spitting image of Nero, and Dante figures he has one mystery solved at least.

Another boy sits next to him, dark hair hanging in his eyes which are glued to a cell phone. Vergil says something to him and the boy looks up and makes a face. He too looks exactly like Vergil, except for the dark features, and Dante frowns. “Are those…?”

“Yeah, Nero and Vitale are getting big, hm?” Lady smiles rather affectionately down at them. “They hit eleven last month and bam, both shot up about three inches. I can barely keep them in clothes.”

“Nero,” Dante sighs with a grin. The kid turns from talking to Vergil to offer him a wave, and the other glances upwards again. “And… Vitale?”

“I go by V now,” he answers curtly before rolling his eyes and looking down at the screen.

“Don’t be rude,” Lady scolds.

Lir laughs. “Teenagers, what can you do? I can’t believe how big the twins have gotten. They are young men now.”

Dante sits back in his chair, tuning out the rest of the conversation as he stares at the two boys. So Nero is only eleven, not nineteen, and Dante makes a quick calculation. Vergil could have still met Lady—Mary—at the Temen-ni-gru, but he definitely wouldn’t have gone to Fortuna first. Does that mean he wouldn’t have had Yamato? Without the sword he had no hope of opening the portal, and Dante frowns in thought. Most likely Vergil never went to hell, which sort of makes sense if they hadn’t been orphaned. So does that mean nothing else happened either? Did the Order still exist? Did it worship his old man? Is Mallet Island still there? If Dante never had a reason to go there, does that mean Mundus is still out there somewhere?

His questions are interrupted by Lir’s hand on his arm. “You okay?” she asks.

He looks up to see the three adults staring at him. “Yeah. I was uh… trying to remember something.” Dante leans forward and nods to Vergil and Lady. “Remind me, how did you two meet?”

Lady blushes a bit but Vergil clears his throat. “I worked for Mary’s father when I was in college, before he died. Don’t you remember?”

“No,” Dante chuckles. “Not one bit.”

“Typical,” Vergil mutters, but before he can protest his parents arrive.

Just like when he looked at the photographs in their house, Eva and Sparda seem like something out of a dream. Dante stays seated as he watches the family give hugs in turn, his heart beating ridiculously fast in his chest.

Sparda has longish hair pulled back into a ponytail, and coupled with the tan linen pants and a button-down shirt with a bold flower pattern, he looks like a retiree on vacation in the Bahamas. Dante grins to himself, trying to remember if his father always had that sense of fashion, especially contrasted to his mother. Eva looks graceful and elegant, the handful of fine lines and silver streaks in her hair giving her the appearance of a matriarch. But she is unmistakable, especially since he’s been looking at her picture on his desk for two decades. When her eyes turn to him, he feels frozen by how alive she is until she reaches out a hand. “Dante, are you okay?” Eva laughs.

The laugh he recognizes instantly from deep within his memory. He’s on his feet in a moment, wrapping her into a tight hug. Her perfume is even familiar, and Dante takes a deep breath as he tries to memorize everything for when he wakes up. It’s been a really long time since he’s had a dream about her, and usually she has a sad smile, fear in her eyes, as she tells him to hide in the closet.

Eva places a kiss on his cheek that makes his eyes a bit misty. Then Sparda pats him on the arm, and unwilling to let Eva go just yet, Dante wraps it around his father in a group hug. He knows he must look ridiculous, but this is too much to take in at once, and he doesn’t let go until he is sure he can breathe.

Lir pats his thigh when he sits back down. She gives him a smile that he can’t quite interpret as the waitress arrives to take their drink orders.

The dinner is fun, more fun than Dante could remember having in a while. And that’s saying something since he and Nero went camping a few weekends ago, and the Love Planet had gotten a karaoke machine. Even the twins perk up when their grandparents arrive, especially when Sparda pulls out a wad of twenty-dollar bills. “Don’t spoil them,” Vergil groans.

“Nonsense,” Sparda says, pulling out several for each boy. “No such thing as spoiling your grandsons.”

Dante frowns as the others laugh. He doesn’t remember Sparda being like… well, this. Warm, sure, but this generous? He didn’t exactly dote on him and Vergil, leaving a lot of the child-rearing to Eva. A few memories surface, mostly listening to Sparda telling stories that were as exciting as they were scary and sneaking into his study to look at his weapons. Maybe being a grandparent is different than a parent? Or maybe Sparda is as different in this dream as everyone and everything else is.

“You’re usually much more talkative, Dante,” Eva comments.

He clears his throat but Lir leans over him a bit and says, “He wasn’t feeling well this morning. Forgot all about what day it was.”

“Are you coming down with something?” asks Eva, her face drawn in concern.

“Nah, nothing like that,” Dante answers. “I think I was having a weird dream.”

“What was it about?” Vergil asks.

Dante takes a sip of water to cover his discomfort with the question. “Everyone was dead, basically,” he says bluntly.

“Dante!” Lir exclaims as the others laugh.

“What?” he chuckles. “He asked.”

“What did we die of?” Sparda asks.

“Uh…” Dante rubs the back of his neck. “There was an attack. But not everyone was dead. La—uh, Mary, was alive. And Nero.” He turns to Lir. “You didn’t even exist.”

Lir laughs. “No wonder you were so out of it.”

The conversation turns to weird dreams people have had in the past, but Dante notices that his father gives him a strange look. Dante’s brows lift a bit in question, but Sparda doesn’t say anything, leaving him to wonder.

The food is the best he’s had in ages, and Dante eats until he is ready to burst. Vergil pokes fun at him which he gives right back, enjoying the scowl on his brother’s face when he tells a slightly raunchy joke and makes Nero laugh. Sparda laughs too, and Dante ignores Lady’s scolding, used to tuning her out. But when Lir rubs his thigh, it draws his attention, and Dante realizes at some point he had slung his arm around her. “Behave yourself,” she whispers with a smile.

There is something in her gaze that is almost like a promise, a shared connection he doesn’t quite understand. It’s enough to make his neck heat, and he shifts in his seat as he mumbles an apology. “Don’t go repeating that, Nero,” he says.

“Can me and V come hang out at the shop next week?” Nero asks.

Both boys look at him expectantly, and he shrugs as his eyes glance towards Vergil. “As long as your old man says it’s okay,” he replies.

“It’s fine,” Lady says. “Just don’t let them touch the equipment.”

Dante pictures Agni and Rudra hanging on the wall, Cerberus above the door, Beowulf in the closet. “Yeah, okay,” he nods. “I’ll put the guns away too.”

Lir snorts but Vergil narrows his eyes. “It’s not a joke, Dante. I don’t want them touching anything that can get their hand blown off.”

“Well, Nevan is the only thing that can really blow off a hand, but I got a case for her,” he replies.

Vergil waves him off and the conversation resumes, and again Dante notices his father staring at him. Sparda looks shocked, like he’s seen a ghost, and when Dante raises his brows in question his father only shakes his head and quickly goes back to his chocolate cake.

At the end of the meal, Dante doesn’t want to leave, but the others start saying their goodbyes. He hugs his mother tightly and kisses her cheek, earning himself one of her laughs. “Always so sweet,” she murmurs.

His father shakes his hand, but wears a frown. Sparda pulls him in a bit close and murmurs so only Dante can hear, “What you said earlier? You were joking, right?”

“Huh?”

Sparda clears his throat and scratches his nose, glancing around like a conspirator. “You said you had Nevan in a case. Did you read that somewhere?”

“What are you talking about?” Dante laughs.

“Oh! Right, right, nevermind. I must have thought you meant something else.” Dante wrinkles his brow in confusion, but then realizes his father probably doesn’t know Nevan was turned into a guitar. He starts to explain but Sparda cuts him off. “Can we meet for lunch next week?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Dante says excitedly.

“Good.” Sparda pats his arm, giving him another strange look before moving away.

Lady promises to text him and they leave Vergil to grumble over the bill and head to the car. Lir offers to drive again, which he takes gratefully. They are back on the road a minute later, and Dante leans the seat back with a deep sigh. “That was so good,” he says with a smile.

“Yeah, it was fun.” His eyes are drooping so he misses Lir’s sideways glance when she asks, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“Do you really keep a gun in the shop?”

Dante sits up and frowns at her, and Lir quickly goes on, “I understand why you would, really I do. I was just surprised. I thought it was a joke, but it didn’t sound like one.” He shakes his head, thoroughly confused, and Lir asks, “Well? Did you buy a gun?”

He clears his throat and adjusts his seatbelt. “I have a few, yeah?”

“A few.” Lir considers this for a moment before sighing. “I can’t say that I’m comfortable with it, but again, I can see why. You are safe with them? They are locked up and everything?”

Dante thinks about Ebony and Ivory in the drawer of his desk. “Sure,” he says.

Claudius is there to greet them when they get home, and Dante watches with some amusement as Lir scoops him up and coos at him sweetly as she carries him to the kitchen. Suddenly tired, he heads upstairs to change out of his clothes, deciding to stay in the boxer briefs for bed. She’s seen him already like that anyway, right?

Lir joins him a few minutes later, when Dante is already settled in bed and flicking through the television stations. He tries not to look as she changes into a short nightgown, sitting up on the pillows when she slides into bed.

“You wanna watch something?” he asks, but Lir takes the remote control and turns the television off. She straddles his lap and drapes her arms over his shoulders, and Dante gulps as he looks up at her smile.

“It was such a nice night. You were so sweet with your parents,” she sighs. She leans in and kisses his cheek, making Dante jump. “And no arguing either. I’m very proud of you.”

“So you uh… you’re not mad about the guns?” he asks.

Lir shakes her head. “No. In fact…” Her voice trails off as she drags her palms down his chest, making his breath catch. “I think it’s kind of hot.”

“Really?” he asks, brows shooting up in surprise. She nods, and then rocks her hips, and Dante bites back a groan. Even through the fabric of his shorts he can feel how hot she is, and he has a very firm suspicion that if he lifted her gown, he’d find she was wearing nothing underneath.

Lir continues grinding against him, tilting close enough to brush her lips on his. Dante sucks in a breath as his body sparks to life instantly, grabbing her hips to slow her for a moment before he gets completely hard and can’t think.

But her fingers teasing his hair and her lips dancing along his jaw makes it hard enough already. “Everything okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, I just…”

He doesn’t know how to continue, but just then Lir pulls her nightgown off over her head and tosses it away. Dante’s eyes bulge when he sees he was right about nothing underneath, and his eyes dart downwards as she slides one hand down his stomach, a mischievous grin on her face. She tugs at the waistband of his shorts and he gives a huff. This is his dream, right? So he shouldn’t feel guilty. Not at all. Especially when she reaches inside and licks her lips, the guilt melting away as he sinks against the mattress with a groan.

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dmc vergil #dmc nero #dmc v #dmc lady #dmc sparda #dmc eva #dmc oc #lir #fan fiction #myfic #the wish

16 notes · View notes

itsuki-minamy · 4 years

Text

“K AGAIN”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

"He's K!"

"K is here!"

"The genius of fried rice has appeared, "K"!”

When the man appeared at the "Tatsuya Honpo" store, more than 100 floor employees were yelling at once.

"K! Thanks for visiting us!"

"Please come here!"

The manager and the two assistants rushed on a small run, inviting the man, K, and his partner to the VIP room. The room, which is used for small group meetings, is a complete space with no spaces in terms of interior decoration, furniture, air conditioning and sound effects.

The manager told K, he was sitting in a relaxed environment.

"The owner will come soon. We will examine the ingredients from now on, so if you have a rough idea of what you would like to eat today…”

K's answer to the question was just silence and an optimistic smile.

"That was rude... It was a stupid question."

The manager bowed deeply and left with his subordinates.

The partner who had been looking around the room until then, hit K with his elbow.

"Hey, alright Kamamoto... I don't have much money."

++++++++++

What is this? Yata thought. he just wanted to eat fried rice.

He went out with Kamamoto and on the way home made him hungry, so he said "Let's go eat something."

"Ok, Yata-san, are we going to eat fried rice then?"

Somehow they suddenly came right here.

"Why fried rice? That kind of thing is usually, "Oh, that's how you feel when you're hungry, you feel Chinese," or something like that.”

"It's Ikisu or fried rice."

"Not really. Well, if they tell you fried rice, fried rice, you start to feel like this.”

"Hehe, I had to come. Actually, I know a good store around here.”

"Oh, what? Suddenly the difficulty increased. Not alone…"

When he arrived after Kamamoto while chatting with his usual story, it was a bit annoying.

Separately, they said, "Five hundred yen for three shobo sharks at a chain of fried rice stores," or "A store where a stubborn grandfather and grandmother are together, and the Meshi is delicious but the chair vibrates and you are not calm." So it was nice. That is to say…

What is this store. It looks like a skyscraper about 10 stories high that belongs to an entire Chinese restaurant. There is a large sign on the side of the building that is about the size of a large monitor in front of the station, and it looks strange. The ground floor is another great room, like a party place or a hotel restaurant.

This room he passes through was another. It is much quieter than the hallway...

The tabletop is so thick that it cannot be grasped by hand. It is a century old tree that has been cut and polished.

The slippery jar placed close to the wall makes a big difference. It is almost like a child.

There is an ultra-realistic carving of a dragon on the ceiling, and the ball in his hand is really real crystal. If a series of melons falls and hits his head, he may die.

In general, their sense of distance is dangerous. Even if he eats it like that, it doesn't taste good. Most of the time, the menus in these stores come out in Chinese, so he will have to eat something that he really cannot taste or taste. And the price is "market price".

No, this is not right.

"Kamamoto, let's go out."

When Yata tried to leave his seat ...

"Hahaha!"

A chef-like man came in opening the double doors, pointed to Kamamoto.

"You finally showed up... I've been waiting for you, K!"

When he finally appeared, he walked over to Yata next to Kamamoto and held out his right hand.

"Are you K's friend? Welcome from my teacher. I am Otori, the owner of this Tatsuya Honpo.”

The powerful hand of a craftsman firmly grasps Yata's hand. Not only the grip, but also the pressure as a human being.

"Hey, Kamamoto, how long have you known him?"

"Well, we've been talking for some time..."

Kamamoto scratched his head.

"Long ago, the kitchen game where I was a judge, triggered your store to lose."

Note: Chapter 3 of the manga "Stray Dog Story".

"What are you saying you did?"

"Huh... K, don't worry. My defeat is my own defeat due to my pride. I prefer to thank you for being judged on your sense of taste and being aware of my immaturity. But…"

Otori, who felt bad, looked back at him and pointed at Kamamoto again.

“I'm not what I was at the time! Let's try it now! My ultimate dish, the "Galaxy Cradle", has evolved even further!”

Then suddenly, Kamamoto sighed deeply.

"Still... you seem to be sticking to your own wins and losses."

"What?"

"I just want to eat delicious fried rice... the best fried rice. The "supreme dish" in this store is not your big "Galaxy Cradle".”

"Ah...!"

Kamamoto smiled invincibly when he turned his head.

"I must get it out... the "fried rice that "uncle" doesn't spread".”

++++++++++

"Wow, what is this? The moment you eat it, you feel like you are in a universe!”

Yata yelled, as grains of fried rice flew from his mouth.

The place is inside the roof garden of the Tatsuya Building, and a small Chinese restaurant, which was relocated there.

“I saw it, it's just normal fried rice, I wonder why, I wonder if my arms are different. Hey, Kamamoto..."

"Hehehe... Otori, the owner of the Tatsuya Honpo, which was once called the" Chinese Supernova", but the rumor that there is another genius of fried rice, hangs in your head and is driving you crazy."

Again, Kamamoto asked for fried rice, and Otori clenched his fist.

"It's a shame, but I have to admit it. I am still an apprentice. It's that guy who really needs to be honored.”

"They will come upon you. Even if you praise me, nothing will come out.”

That's when the man with a stubble and an apron seems to laugh. He has a towel around his head. Although he appears to be in his forties, he has juvenile infantilism somewhere, or vice versa, he seems to be using a very old air.

"No, it's serious. Really…"

Yata leaned towards the man named "Ojiki".

"Ojiki, are you always here? I will come to eat again. I like this type of store. Haha, the chair is ringing.”

"Oh, I'm sorry…"

An old man, who was happy looking at the meals of two guests next to the "Ojiki", said to him.

“This store is just a monument. I'm not in business anymore.”

"Eh... it's true. So, this fried rice...?”

"That's why I don't like it, Yata-san." Kamamoto said.

"Just come to dinner." The old man laughed.

Otori bowed deeply.

"Sorry, teacher. I couldn't refuse because I came to see "Ojiki"…”

"Well, is this your lunch? Damn, I ate it!”

“Well, if you eat that much, this Ossan will be happy. Do you want me to do it again?”

"Oh, "Ojiki", wait!"

Yata stopped the "Ojiki" trying to stand up.

"I will because I have eaten it. Well, I'm not a professional like you, but I still help in the kitchen of a store I know.”

"Okay. Then, you will come with me.”

The "Ojiki" sat down,

"Huh?"

"Ah..."

Otori and Kamamoto said quietly.

And…

Otori was watching Yata's kitchen knife, standing in the kitchen behind the counter. In an immovable posture with his arms crossed, but his eyes capture all of Yata's actions, and his thoughts never stop for a moment.

(Hmm, if you think about how skillful he is... "I'm used to newbies.")

(Is the oil, a salad oil? Does it seem like the pan is sweet...?)

(Hmmm, do he put the rice first?)

(Why do you open the refrigerator after starting to make a difference?)

(What?! Is that... pineapple?)

"Heaven is complete!"

The dish was a big departure from Otori's definition of "fried rice."

"Is this fried rice...? It's a little sweet and salty... too innovative...”

"Is it okay to give something so unfamiliar to a respected teacher or “Ojiki”?" Otori was interrupted.

"Ah, this is simple. When I was playing at home on my day off, that's what my mother gives me.”

"Hehe, my mom's taste."

"I feel like I'm not ready, it's not good."

The "Ojiki" and "Teacher" started eating the mysterious fried rice, which cannot be said to be fried rice, in a simple and unexpectedly funny way.

"Hmm, really..."

The sight evoked a certain emotion in Otori's chest.

“Cooking is not only done with ingredients and heat. Memories, feelings ... the hearts of the people who eat it. I could have lost something important again…”

"It is the path I have been through."

Otori looked up at Kamamoto's voice.

"K... You know, today somehow, you taught me that..."

"Hehe... come on, I wonder..."

And…

To thank the Tatsuya Honpo people for the food, the two guests returned. Looking back as they step outside, Otori turned gloomy.

(K, the great genius of fried rice... is a sympathetic man.)

++++++++++

“No, it was delicious, fried rice. Also, I was allowed to eat it for free, thank you very much.”

Yata said, hitting his bulging flank.

However, Kamamoto, I gave a tip to a professional chef, and he understood. I thought it was a small dining room to eat one by one, I was a little surprised.”

Then Kamamoto replied with a serious look.

"Well, it's relatively textured, that kind of thing."

"Hey, what is that?"

"That owner, Otori, is agitated when I say something like that, and I am surprised that he let me eat for free."

"Oh, I’m sorry."

Yata was afraid.

"Don't cheat on a serious person. I can't forgive that!"

"But was it good? Fried rice."

"Well, it was fine, but does that "Ojiki" come only occasionally?”

“Yes, this is the first time I have met him. He is a "ghost cook".”

"I see. Please thank him again… I hope to see him again.”

When Yata looked up at the sky while taking a nap of the taste of fried rice,

"Oh, I'm sorry."

A man walking behind ran into Yata, who had slowed his pace. A long-haired man wearing a Catholic priest's foot collar.

"Ah, priest."

"No, it was nothing."

The "priest" waved his hand slightly, then left quickly. The leek sticking out of the shopping bag in the other hand looked like a mess.

"That…"

Yata looked at Kamamoto again.

"Hey, Kamamoto. The person just before… isn't it similar to "Ojiki"?”

"Hahaha, no way. He's just a little bit similar in profile.”

Kamamoto laughed.

“The fried rice feel of this fried rice genius can never be overlooked by a good fried rice cook.”

"No, I was wondering, who was that "fried rice genius"?"

"Fufufu, it would take longer to talk about that..."

As the conversation between the two drifted toward the "Great Genius," that guy's back dispersed into the crowd.

#K #k project #k stories #k fan clan #yata misaki #kamamoto rikyo #iwafune tenkei #homra #jungle

40 notes · View notes

thelittlehansy · 3 years

Text

Prince Thimothee of the southern isles.

Some random part of that tv show idea i ve got in my description in fanfic style not script that i m procrastinatating to wrote since 5 years 😂this is like episode 2 or 3 lottie meet one of the prince of the southern isles and suddenly...well its love at first sight. writing is also a way to improve my english so well thanks to anyone who may read this and sorry for the painful grammar XD

A place amoung others in the hotel was a restaurant that was not indifferent to lottie.

Not only Tiana had take an opportunity to work here as a way to cope with the strange curse that had send them here but there was also a part of the restaurant that was mean for musician group that lottie was liking a lot.

This evening was particulary enjoyable for lottie. The music was sounding great she was chatting happy with Tiana and Aurora when suddenly something had crossed her heart at the minute she saw the new singer who was making the show.

Curly auburn hair , mysterious chocolate eyes , this man was strange. He was mysterious but at the same time lottie could tell from his face that he seems to be kind. She must have been too much concentrated on that guy for she hear tiana and Aurora laughed amused.

« Lottie... » she heard Tiana chuckled.

« i think she is having a crush on prince thimothee » Aurora added in a whisper.

« Prince ? He is a prince ? » lottie asked at the same time shocked and euphoric this man who was singing in front on her ,this stunning god was a prince ? She looked a little better at the man. His pants was not the same as his shirt. When the shirt was definitely an outfit he buy like everyone else here to fit with this world clothes brand. the pants was more fitting the brand of the southern part of the first continent of their world. Finally she catch it the Symbol of the southern isles royalty on the top of the pants. She laughed.

« oh my god this is one of the princes of the southern isles !!!! » she claimed. As aurora and Tiana laughed with her.

Her best friend added « sorry lottie he is 11th in line ». Lottie burst out laughing , her dream and fantasm of marring a prince and be a princess was something that she made public knowledge amoung her friends and if she had to be honest she liked playing the role of the superficial girl that had always dream to marry a prince. it was funny and her friend were knowing perfectly who she was. Yes she was blond ,she was rich , and she was having strange dreams but Tiana her best friend and her others friend were knowing perfectly that she was a very faithful friend who was kind and gentle. she was interrupted again in her daydream by Tiana

« Lottie you are literally watching him since 2 minutes » she laughed

« well when I see a goergous piece of art how can I not look at what I see » they both burst out laughing with aurora who finally added a little more information.

« I m sorry lottie but all the princes of the southern isles are married with children except for prince Runo prince Rudi wich is engagment was call off and Prince Hans » the news hit lottie pretty hard for she makes a face that makes her friend laugh even more. Upset she added :

« so I only have a choice between the ones surround by negative gossip and....Prince hans » she makes a grimace. Hans even though was 13th in line had makes himself very popular for his crimes in arendelle. he was a selfish entitled murderous asshole.

it was not a surprise him and his twins brothers are not married. In fact the contrary would have be extremely shocking and surprising. She wished for one second no any women will have the misfortune te to be married to such men. Prince hans at least , they still didn’t knew if Rudi and runo were as horrible as the gossip about them.

Generally rumors twist reality , at least with Hans the existence of fact where proving how an horrible human being he was. He had left his fiance to died , laugh at her misery trying to murder for power. This quote he said to her also “ oh anna if only there was someone out there who loved you” has spread very fast in the continent. all of these was only showing the cruelty of the character of his royal highness Prince Hans Westergaard of the Southern isles.

She was going to serve herself an other glass of this very tasteful juice when a hand touch accidently her

« I m sorry » the person said. She raise her head and suddenly noticed prince thimothee !

Prince timothee was the one who touched her hand ? not wanted to sound like a fan girl she nervously brushed her hair , when a magnicent smile with dimple crossed his royal highness goergous face. Her heart melt a little more « it’s alright » she said with a huge smile.

Confident , she finally decided to talk to him « you have an amazing voice your highness you makes a great show I m sure a lot of person here enjoy it a lot » she smile her confidence disappearing suddenly he was royalty maybe he was finding her a bit too familiar.

« really ? » thimothee said « thanks you thanks you so much generally I m all the time compared to my triplet brother » he laughed not convinced of her compliment. “ your triplet brothers” lottie replied surprise. “ yes we are triplet that dont look like each others like our twin brothers” she notices the two men on stage who must be his brothers. There were Indeed not looking exactly like each other’s but we still could tell there were brothers.

She smiled happy to chat with him “ its true Rudi and Runo have nothing at all in common physically !”

« I m sure you have our own skills and talent that cannot be compare to your brothers » she reasured him.

« Thanks thanks you so much what your name ? »

« Charlotte labouff ! I m from the second continent new Orleans ! She said happy to present herself to the prince and way too much excited.

« it’s a pleasure prince thimothee of the southern isles » he Bowned and paused a kiss on her hand. « to another time miss labouff » on these words the prince left her.

She heard aurora and Tiana not convinced by the prince charm « what he didn’t said to you is that he has a wife”

“he has a wife !” lottie repeat finally sad.

“I m sure he is the kind to flirt around even when married » Tiana said

« oh that will be so sad I hear he got 3 kids ? » Aurora said

« yes naveen told me two babies and one who is 4 years old » speicfied tiana.

Lottie looked a little better at the direction the prince took there was indeed a little kid next to thimothee

« the question I asked myself is why they take some of their kids at this ball now look at the disaster only 2 princess of the southern isles went to the ball and now several of these poor kid are away from their mothers » aurora said.

Finally she saw a man tooking the small child with him approaching from lottie Aurora and tiana table. She smiled to who must be prince thimothee kid. The boy replied with a little malicous smile. she looked at him again the poor little boy was so lost and tired from all these mess. he must be terribly miss his mommy she thought.

« if you want to babysit him I will not said no ! When you are having more than 10 nephews and nieces and most of their mother are missing this is a hard time » she heard the man visibly piss off told her. The men was the uncle of the boy ? a prince of the southern isles ?

He replied to her internal monologue « prince klaus of the southern isles...” bitter , cynical and unfriendly withtout any smile prince klaus said : “ Not hans brother , neither number 6 please »

She offered the prince an other smile and bow the best she can. Lottie was sure he was the kind of royalty to claim everything as a disrespect again his own person. This one was also very handsome not as much as prince thimothee but still pretty good looking. What struck her the most was how much cold and arrogant he sounded.

. « He must missing so much his mother » lottie said sad for the little boy and his cousins who went at the ball. « His father too must miss her terribly... » she added thinking about his wife putting to the side her little crush on prince thimothee she did not realize the horror its must be for the princes to be away from their love one.

Lottie was missing a lot her father and there were there only since nearly one week. the prince of the southern isles them were having a enormous family and more people to missed terribly.

The prince chuckled « no I can tell you my brother prince thimothee does not miss his wife neither my sisters in law”

“ love does not exist in the southern isles » he added while drinking bitter his glass.

« really ? » aurora lottie and Tiana asked shocked by the prince declaration. The 6th prince of the southern isles « my sisters in law...they must be throwing a big party in our castle right now ! this is only politic for my father !

In one instant after the prince left , lottie went back to her intial very exited mood that Tiana , with rationality interrupted :

« lottie. please i got the feeling prince thimothee is not as charming as he may seems to be ». « maybe he is » she said a huge smile on her face. When aurora finally left Tiana paused a very friendly hand on her shoulder « I m here for you and I will always be here to help you achieve your dream just like you were there for me ! just take me aware so I know if have to protect my best friend » she laughed and hug lottie very tight.

small tears fell on lottie face that crossed the smile she was having as hugging her best friend. « tia you think we are gonna go home ? I miss daddy and Eudora and this is still only one week we are here »

« I m sure , aurora told the fairies are working days and days they are gonna find a curse to make us go back home » finally Tiana leave busy to take care of the closure of the restaurant.

Alone on her chair she realized , her belly , it was as it it was full of buterfly prince thimothee has make a big impression on her. lottie was feeling it , her intuition was screaming at her that he was ineed a true good man. and now what does she hear ? his wife must be very happy to be away from him right now ? that they only married for political reasons ? Suddently it was like her hopes and dream could be real. Maybe she could have a love story with prince thimothee ? He seems to have like her when they very briefly meet ! or maybe she could even achieve her big dream she had hope since little be a princess ? she laughed she was defintly too much crazy this will never happened.

She was also not in any way a gold digger no ? she genuinly wanted to know better that 11th prince of the southern isles. He seems so nice and kind lottie thought.

finally her hapiness disapeared the prince were not making a lot of appeareance since there were there. they were mainly in their part reserved for the southern isles big family in the hotel. she also didnt wanted to pass for some crazy annoying fans of the princes of the southern isles.

no she needed someone to present her to the prince.

Someone that was also way more approchable , than was each days at the bar of the restaurent unlike his brothers.

Someone who in those bunch of handsome fella was willing do to the worst stuff if it means gain what he wants. she needed to promise him something that was interesting him and what everyone was missing there was money. Prince Henry who had been assigned the role of the leader of the hotel by the curse had already give her some part of money. After all she was having food and a bed here ? she could give him the money and instead he could makes her meet prince thimothee and assure the communication between them.

she smirked when she saw her prey from the distance , His Royal Highness Prince Hans Westergaard of the Southern isles.

#fanfic #Disneysia #random moment of the fic #Prince thimothee of the southern isles #the princes of the southern isles #trying to wrote in English

3 notes · View notes

marypsue · 5 years

Note

Hi! I saw in a previous ask that you really like monster transformation fics. Do you have any recommendations?

If you’re here, I figure you at least know of Gravity Falls, which is good because a lot of these are gonna land squarely there. (I’d recommend looking up the Monsterfalls AU if you haven’t already. Also, a lot of the Transcendence AU deals with Dipper becoming a demon and fallout from that. And the One Of Us AU! GF AUs have consistently been a gift that keeps on giving.)

Also, I’m gonna expand the definition of ‘monster’ to include 'any creature that isn’t human but possesses sapience’ because why not. That’s where I get most of my good, good angst.

- Cooperation Is Mandatory (Gravity Falls): Fair warning before you click, this fic is abandoned and orphaned at six chapters. But they’re six of the best chapters of werewolf angst and worldbuilding that I’ve found in this fandom. This was the fic that inspired Raising Stakes.

- Rest & Revivification (Gravity Falls): Aftermath of Soos getting turned into a zombie in Scary-Oke. Sweet, funny, light, and just a little bit horrifying, just like the episode!

- Snow and Pine (Gravity Falls): More quality werewolf Stangst. This one’s a series of one-shots, rather than a chaptered fic. Technically complete, though I feel like there’s still more to the story.

- Guardian (Gravity Falls): The glowy symbol Bill put on the side of the portal mechanism turns Stan into a gargoyle. Things go about as well as you’d expect. I haven’t kept up with this one, because it got much more into romantic-drama territory in later chapters, but it does start very strong and if your attention span is better than mine you’ll probably get more mileage out of it.

- The Ghost That Lives In Great Uncle Ford’s Basement (Gravity Falls): Dipper and Mabel arrive at their great-uncle’s house for the summer, only for Mabel to uncover a thirty-year-old murder mystery. Stan’s a ghost and everything is terrible! Good but sad.

- State Of Dreaming (Gravity Falls): SandyQuinn (@agentquinn on tumblr) consistently delivers the gut punches and the good good catharsis. Stanford Pines sacrifices his humanity to defeat Bill Cipher. It’s what happens afterwards that matters.

- The Logical Conclusion (Gravity Falls): Short and sweet, funny and full of fridge horror, just how I like 'em. Gargoyle Stan discovers he has a taste for red meat.

- A Thousand Natural Shocks (Gravity Falls): An eldritch horror convinces itself that it’s Stan Pines. Then it’s forced to remember the truth. dubs is an incredible author, and has a few AU/oneshots in this same 'verse.

- (To Die Will Be) An Awfully Big Adventure (Bandom): So normally I’m not about RPF. This, though, is 1) old enough now that the circumstances it depicts really don’t reflect any of the players’ real-life circumstances and so it’s real easy to read them as original characters, 2) carefully and creatively worldbuilt to rival any decent urban fantasy profic out there right now, and 3) an absolute blast to read. A wayward MCR fan decides to give Gerard Way the greatest gift they can think of - immortal life. Unfortunately, they don’t…ask first. Contains conspiracies, vampires, werewolves, fairies, all the delightfully goffic ridiculousness of Fueled by Ramen in the late 00s, some extremely quality angst, great clothes, and a twist I genuinely did not see coming.

- Something Wicked This Way Comes (ROTG): Werewolves! And werewolf hunters! Contains both the angsty established hunter who got turned into the thing he hunts and the naive innocent who knows nothing about monsters and has no idea what he’s become! No knowledge of ROTG required to enjoy this bad boy.

- Blessings And Curses (The Hobbit movies): I don’t even go here, and this one’s another one that I strongly suspect will never be finished. But it does that 'fish out of water’ aspect of adjusting to a new body - and the culture shock that comes with it - so well. A dwarf gets whammied into an elf, with all the accompanying cultural baggage.

- Theodicy (Supernatural): Dean gets made over into an angel. Again, I don’t even go here - I guess I understand the theoretical appeal of Destiel, but the actual characters as they appear on the screen together have done nothing for me. But. This one’s so visceral, so gutting, so horrifying on so many levels, that the veneer of normality and positivity that lies over it just twists the knife. Fucked up and horrible and, in a strange way, hopeful. I love it.

- In Love, And Blood, And Death (The Lost Boys): That Good Shit. A classic vampire story retold with all ladies and a bad ending. This one’s extremely lush, the descriptions lyrical and rich and brutal. I could sink into this fic and just roll around in it for a while.

(I have also, uh, written a whoooole bunch. Off the top of my head, Raising Stakes and Shorts and Determination are probably gonna be the two you’ll get the most mileage out of.)

#chatter #monsters!

32 notes · View notes

tearlessrain · 5 years

Text

I’m about to watch Arthur and Merlin, which is free on youtube and came up in my suggestions randomly. I have no idea what it is but I am hungry for the arthurian Content so Imma watch it and see how it goes

update: it was way better than I expected and accidentally SUPER gay. that merlin tv show everyone loved was amateur hour compared to how gay this was.

“there is magic in the air, and in the water, but it has been forgotten by many in these lands” wow why does that sound familiar I wonder

the funny thing is I watched fellowship of the ring literally yesterday so this will be hilarious

but there is hope [extremely unsubtle cut to a baby who is definitely important]

now I think... and I could be wrong... but guys I suspect this baby might be the chosen one.

oh god there was no father he was conceived by midichlorians

THE SKYWALKERS HAVE INFILTRATED THE CELTS

okay place your bets is it arthur or merlin

it’s Merlin. or Merddyn rather, in a surprise twist this movie was written by Fucking Nerds

so far mild cheese aside this is surprisingly watchable

“your crops fail and so you ask the king for help, but do not help yourselves! where are your alters?? starvation is punishment for your lack of faith!” THE RNC HAS INFILTRATED THE CELTS

okay so near as I can figure out the mark is from the old gods but there’s a druid who I guess speaks for the king or something who wants them to worship different old gods and now he’s demanding the villagers make a human sacrifice and it’s gonna be Smol Merddyn.

aw no they killed Celtic Shmi. Merddyn got away though and is now wandering the Forbidden Forest

I’m mad this is actually a solid movie so far. absolutely nothing unexpected has happened but I didn’t click on a movie called “Arthur and Merlin” to be surprised

oh wait that kid who freed him was Arthur

fifteen years later arthur is... a military leader who looks strangely like one of those romans played by obviously white actors in older movies

I honestly can’t pinpoint when this movie was made on aesthetics alone

ooo some Roving Misogynists™ are here to cause trouble and assault random women for being christian. by order of the druid no doubt.

“you mock us!” “I do.” okay I’m starting to like this arthur.

oh my god is that. he just fucking. tripped over excalibur while wading in like a two foot deep pond to get this woman’s cross back for her. best interpretation ever.

wait Olwen??? as in Ysbaddaden’s daughter Olwen?? once again I assumed they’d go with Guinevere or make someone up but I forgot, this movie was made by Fucking Nerds.

okay I know insisting everything is gay is a constant thing on this site but I want to point out that Arthur has showed nothing but very platonic friendship to Olwen but this is the face he makes when he sees Merddyn in a vision

and I mean to be fair to him this is what Merddyn looks like now

goddamn

oh no they’ve immediately made it very clear that he’s Romantically Involved With Olwen In Secret Look They’re Kissing Nobody Is Gay

so now I really want to know who wrote this movie because what I’m seeing here is people who intentionally chose to use the name merddyn, and know that olwen exists, but then decided to pair her romantically with... king arthur. and culhwch just doesn’t exist I guess. not that this is the most off the wall welsh mythology ship I’ve encountered but still it’s a weird one for this kind of media even if it’s an indie film

who are you people. how did this movie get made. I mean I like whatever it is but for real how and why did you do this.

I love how there’s just this trio of random dudes who don’t even have names who are arthur/olwen’s friends. and yet somehow they’re likable and I’m rooting for them. whoever they are.

so the only real problem with this movie that’s denting my enjoyment is that nobody has names and they all have the same haircut so I lose track of who’s doing what. see these are arthur’s friends:

and these are bad guys:

and Olwen is the only person in either screenshot who has a name

if any of them ever changes into a new outfit I’m screwed.

I’m gonna be real with y’all I love me a cursed forest

in an ironic twist, excalibur is now firmly stuck in a tree trunk and arthur cannot get it out

why is this movie GOOD what the heck. I mean the druid and king situation is blatantly ripped from wormtongue and theoden but I still like. care about the king. they’ve done it well.

“I’ve already told you, I am no longer a man.” “are you so sure???” see I know nothing will happen since this is a movie not a fanfic but that line is the quintessential hate-makeout segue

THIS IS VERY HETEROSEXUAL they’ve had most of the argument while approximately that distance from each other

oh god what the fuck arthur’s friends got sacrificed by the druid just to make a point to olwen. this is the opposite of a Sacrificial Girlfriend.

they do not need to be this close to each other to argue but they keep on doing it

they’ve been on screen together for less than five minutes y’all

arthur: maybe you’re right, you are no longer a man

merlin: [conjures an entire patch of flowers for him to make... some kind of point I guess?]

okay now they’re arguing again but there’s all this “I thought I knew you” talk (which, again, it’s been five minutes) and the actors have clearly decided that their dynamic is based entirely on constant, roiling sexual tension

why does every single thing they say scan like dialogue from a slow burn enemies to friends to lovers fanfic

“the girl in the village, did you love her once?” “I know little of love” “Surely a man who can control the growth of a flower must be able to make love blossom” JUST FUCK ALREADY

this is how they’re having this conversation by the way

there was only one shrub hollow

“to control nature is one thing, but only the most powerful sorcerer could control the mind of a man- OR WOMAN,” he said, heterosexually.

y’all I’m gonna be honest I thought I was just projecting at first but this is the gayest thing I’ve seen since the baseball song in high school musical 2. this is just absolute beleg and turin levels of probably unintended but utterly blatant homosexuality. I’m so glad I decided to watch this movie and youtube was right to recommend it to me.

this movie really speaks to me because on a spiritual level I too am a mystical but irritable and socially stunted forest hermit with sexy hair just waiting for a brash but pure-hearted warrior who looks like a roman statue to draw me out of my cave with homoerotic banter.

oh it’s not excalibur it’s... nuadu. which I guess in this movie is not the king of the tuatha de danann but a sword forged by them? see my first impulse would be to assume that the way they’re mangling everything, the writers knew nothing about Celtic folklore, except that they’ve chosen such weirdly specific things to mangle. they know their shit, they’ve just deliberately chosen to go absolutely buckwild with it.

THEY’RE DOING IT AGAIN THEY ARE INCAPABLE OF ARGUING WHILE STANDING MORE THAN TWO FEET APART

for real though character-wise this might be one of my favorite interpretations of merlin/merddyn I’ve ever seen. I feel like everyone involved was genuinely super passionate about the subject matter they were working with. like all jokes aside he’s really honestly well acted and well written.

STOP IT NOW YOU HORNY SIMPLETONS

uh oh they’ve been captured by... bandits?

oh it’s olwen’s uncle

“TO GOOD WOMEN... WHY DO YOU NOT DRINK, MERDDYN”

it is a mystery, olwen’s uncle.

a mystery.

this motivational monologue could have been so cheesy but like. I’m here for it. I would follow arthur into battle.

aw come on. olwen’s uncle betrayed them. I kinda saw it coming but dammit.

again, the druid should be absolutely stupid but he’s kind of a cool villain.

yay olwen’s uncle unbetrayed them. probably so would I if I’d seen what merddyn just did to the druid’s guys.

so the druid is trying to sacrifice ten thousand souls to raise a god from the underworld and merddyn is on the fucking warpath. and olwen’s uncle is ON BOARD HELL YEAH.

THE HOBBITS THE HOBBITS THE HOBBITS THE HOBBITS TO ISENGUARD TO ISENGUARD

arthur and merddyn have escalated to clutching each other’s clothes during their heated two-feet-apart discussions

olwen is a badass in her own right like she has her own whole thing going trying to save the king from basically his own literal dementia and the druid who’s taking advantage of it, which is somehow way more compelling than just magical mind control.

“I thought the cave taught you fairness” “well... you taught me fighting” JUST KISS.

okay let’s see how they pull off this dark god on the shoestring budget they definitely have, at this point I honestly believe in them.

by avoiding showing the god entirely apparently but they made it work even with that.

aw the king has named him his heir. which again we all knew would happen but it’s still so well done.

and we end on merddyn placing the crown on arthur’s head while lovingly quoting his own words back at him, while olwen looks on with the kind of approval that implies they’ve ended up with some kind of road to el dorado situation. solid.

so I was expecting this to be absolute garbage with bad actors and checked out writers just trying to make another mediocre coattail-riding medieval fantasy movie and what I got was some weirdly good actors and writers who are clearly obsessed with celtic folklore and desperately wanted to just run amok with it for an hour and 45 minutes. and they did. they poured every ounce of their hearts and souls and tiny, tiny budget into it. and it was beautiful. 10/10

#tearless liveblogs #I just watched an entire merlin/arthur/olwen crackship slow burn enemies to friends to lovers fic in the form of an indie film #and I loved it

3 notes · View notes

camwritesbooks · 5 years

Text

my twenty-eighteen reading recap ♥

inspired by @brynwrites reading recap, here is my reading recap of twenty-eighteen, sorry it’s a bit late! I read quite a few books in the past year, but here are my top five of the past twelve months. feel free to comment or make your own post of what you enjoyed reading in twenty-eighteen!

one. the diviners by libba bray (★★★★★)

this series is my new favourite and honestly I haven’t read many things for original, clever and well-written as these books in a long time. I’m currently reading lair of dreams, the sequel to the first (which bears the same name as the overall series). the diviners is about, among many other characters, evie o’neil, a magically-gifted young american girl in the 1920s who is sent to live with her uncle in new york. then the murders start happening. the characters of this series are all so beautiful and developed and libba bray has clearly put such a great effort into making her series diverse and researching different cultures. I think it’s best to go into this book not knowing too much? so... words to describe this book: thriller, paranormal, historical, a bit scary, mystery.

two. radio silence by alice oseman (★★★★★)

I haven’t heard too many people talk about this book? which I think is a shame, because it’s so good. describing it is difficult because it’s so unlike anything I’ve read before and do think it’s best to go into this book knowing as little as possible. but here’s what I’ll say: frances is a girl living in the uk with one goal in life - do brilliantly in school and get into a prestigious university. it always seemed achievable until her life begins to fall apart. radio silence is about being yourself, and it’s done in such a powerful way that I can’t help but love it. words to describe it: living your truth, diversity, contemporary, podcast, alternative style.

three. warcross by marie lu (★★★★★)

there’s a reason this book is so popular, it’s pretty freaking good. I’ll admit that I hesitated to pick it up because it was pretty far from my comfort zone in terms of genres. futuristic stuff about new technologies, etc. is not the sort of thing I usually read. emika chen is a bounty hunter and a hacker. desperate for money, she takes a risks and hacks in the biggest online international event of the year - the world championships of the virtual reality game that took the world by storm ten years ago and hasn’t stopped. however she accidentally hacks herself into the game. this gains the attention of Warcross’ creator, young billionaire hideo tanaka. he wants her to enter the official games to act as his personal spy. it’s not a long book, which is a breath of fresh air among all these five hundred to seven hundred (and even longer) page books and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I’m planning to read the sequel, wildcard, soon! words to describe it: sci-fi, futuristic, surprising, virtual reality, strong protagonist.

four. the nowhere girls by amy reed (★★★★★)

I have read contemporary young adult books about feminism before. they have been everywhere from painfully terrible to begrudgingly decent. but never that good. certainly never amazing as this book is. the nowhere girls tells the stories of many girls living in the town in which it’s set, but focuses on three - grace, the quiet but kind new girl; rosina, the queer, alternative girl who struggles to fit in with her conservative mexican family and school and erin, the star trek-obsessed girl with autism unable to find her place. together, they join together to find justice for lucy moynihan, a girl who was run out of town after accusing a group of popular boys of gang rape. this book is so powerful. I think honestly that all girls old enough should read it, it’s so important. amy reed has put such an effort in representing all kinds of girls, including queer girls, trans girls, girls of many races and social classes, etc. it’s honestly stunning and I can’t recommend it enough, honestly. words to describe it: feminism, empowerment, personal stories, justice.

(I have to mention though that there is a strong trigger warning for rape, sexual assault/harassment, etc. in this book, please look after yourself.)

five. strange the dreamer by laini taylor (★★★★ ½ )

the sequel to this novel, muse of nightmares, came out quite recently and I can’t wait to read it! why? because this book is like nothing i’ve read before, and it’s beautiful. strange the dreamer is a very difficult book to describe. it’s fantasy and it’s strange, different from most books like it. it’s very explorative of the genre and doesn’t hold back from pushing the boundaries. like radio silence, I think this is a book you need to go in a bit blind. but here’s the basic plot: lazlo strange has devoted his life to studying the mysterious city of Weep, which disappeared years ago along with its true name. one day, he is given a chance to travel there and learn its secrets. words to describe it: high fantasy, strange and alternative, mysterious, a touch of romance.

honourable mentions (★★★★) ↴

an ember in the ashes series by sabaa tahir. the first book starts off shaky but by the third installment the series knows where it’s going and the characters have become strong (helen, I’d die for you)

wolf by wolf duology by ryan graudin. this duology is “what if the nazis won?” done right, with heartbreaking moments and powerful characters.

aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe by benjamin alire sáenz. yes, I finally read this book. I’m aware how late I am. but this novel was truly beautiful and definitely deserving of the hype.

simon vs. the homo sapiens agenda by becky albertalli. you all know this one. the book is funny and tearjerking and a really lovely read.

they both die at the end by adam silvera. don’t let the title put you off, this book isn’t all sad. I won’t spoil anything though.

children of blood and bone by tomi adeyemi. although this book isn’t perfect, it is a beautiful example of own voices literature and I cried inwardly so much while reading it.

we are the ants by shaun david hutchinson. although I found it hard to connect with the protagonist’s outlook on the world, I feel I learned a new perspective from this novel and was completely hooked beginning to end.

a very large expanse of sea by tahereh mafi. another gorgeous own voices read, this book is about shirin, a muslim girl, growing up in the aftermath of 9/11.

so yeah! that was my favourite books of twenty-eighteen, I read some really lovely ones this past year. happy reading in twenty-nineteen, folks ♡

#i would recommend all these books #though some are quick genre specific so if you arent into that thing you might no enjoy it #but anyway #what did you guys enjoy reading this year?#twenty-eighteen reading recap #books #rape tw #queue #sorry if there are typos i did my best :(

26 notes · View notes

creative-frequency · 6 years

Text

Ardyn x Fem!Reader: Sweet Disaster Ch. 1

Word count: 4901 Warnings: Eventual explicit content, Ardyn being a douche Notes: Romance, slight angst, broship banter. Includes game rewrite scenes, spoilers ahoy. This is me procrastinating multi-chap fics..... by writing another one. Thanks for the ideas @lucianhuntress! Thanks for the insight on the mentioned injury @alicemoonwonderland! Tagging: some who might be interested @valkyrieofardyn @poisonous-panda @tyncri @insomniacapples

Sweet Disaster -series Masterlist | Playlist for this story

As the first step of tackling the issue that is Noctis forging the covenant with the Titan, your party of five heads down the hot streets of Lestallum. Your destination is the outlook across the main road. From there you can see the Disc of Cauthess and its crystal formations that grow up into the sky. Your intentions are to devise a plan of approach there, even though, as Ignis has just said, “it doesn’t replace being on site, but it’s a good start”.

As you reach the location, you’re greeted by a tall, suspicious stranger. “What a coincidence,” he says with a wave of his hand.

You scan over his... attire in bafflement. Despite the heat that forced you to abandon your jacket, he is wearing at least three layers of clothing; complete with a long coat and several scarves. His hair is a dark auburn shade of red, locks floating airily around his head. The waves look so soft that you catch yourself thinking about how they would feel between your fingers. The stranger’s posture is relaxed, but not without a sense of nobility, which leaves you wondering about the contradictory signals his hobo-esque appearance sends.

Furthermore, the guys seem to know him.

“I’m not so sure it is,” Gladio rumbles with a disapproving look.

The stranger’s eyes stop at you as the last member of your group and he begins to pace forward. His scarf waves with the motion from the steps.

How on Eos can he wear those clothes in this heat?

He doesn’t look old enough to be your dad, but maybe he could be your uncle or something. Weird, hot uncle.

“Aren’t nursery rhymes curious things?” the stranger asks. You notice that his eyes are a peculiar shade of amber, which you haven’t seen before. He also has a bit of stubble.

You and Prompto look at Ignis in utter confusion in seek of advice on how to act, but the advisor’s narrow-eyed attention is fixated elsewhere.

The strange man continues speaking, pointing his words to Noctis, who looks defiantly back at him.

“Like this one: ‘From the deep, the Archaean calls...’”

His voice is pleasant, oily and the words sound like he is reciting a poem in front of an audience. There is certain easiness to the way he speaks and it makes you tilt your head in to listen.

“’...Yet on deaf ears, the gods’ tongue falls, The King made to kneel, in pain,’”– for some reason, he glances at you–“’he crawls.’”

You could swear his eyes were glinting.

“So how do we keep him on his feet?” Prom spurs forward to ask.

The stranger walks away from you to the ledge of the lookout, turning his back to you. “You only need to heed the call. Visit the Archaean and hear his plea.”

He makes it sound really simple.

Then he turns with a tight-lipped, wide grin on his face.

“I can take you.”

The motion is so ridiculously theatrical combined with the rhyme from the cosmogony he just recited, that you barely hold back your snort. Maybe he notices your amusement, but he pays no mind to it.

The guys and you huddle together to mull over what you just heard. “We in?” Gladio asks, looking at Noctis.

“I don’t know,” the prince says. Prompto shoots a suspicious look at the stranger and you follow his gaze to see a lingering, confident smirk. He can hear your every word as your groups weighs the situation.

“We take a ride...” Prompto says conspiringly.

“...But watch our backs,” Gladio ends.

Prompto nods in agreement.

“Fair enough,” Ignis says.

“Let’s do it,” Noct concludes.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” you add.

The stranger shrugs in amusement at your rhetorical question, and his smile only widens. He looks positively creepy and the expression makes you wonder what he could possibly have in mind. With a grin like that, he can’t be without an ulterior motive. Pure kindness from a perfect stranger sounds too good to be true.

“I’m not one to stand on ceremony, but such an occasion calls for an introduction. Please, call me ‘Ardyn’,” he introduces himself, satisfied with your group’s decision and begins to stride towards the parking lot. “Come with me to the car park. That’s where I left my automobile.”

Automobile? Seriously? You blink several times and bite your lips to hold back your laugh. Fortunately, Ardyn is too busy to notice you pulling faces.

The guys trade looks after Ardyn’s parading steps and you grin at Prompto, who quips a brow in question.

“She’s a dear old thing.”

You’re not sure whether Ardyn is joking in that tone of his, or just downright weird.

“Pales next to your Regalia, but she’s never let me down,” he continues as your group skittles after him. None of the guys can think of anything to reply, though it doesn’t seem that Ardyn is even expecting any commentary.

“So we take two vehicles – a convoy of sorts. Shall we?” he suggests.

You take a look at Ignis to see his reaction, which is only a passing furrowing of his brows. Ardyn leads you through the lookout terrace. His car is conveniently parked in the same row as the Regalia and the fact doesn’t escape Ignis’s notice. He is definitely suspicious of the stranger.

“All set?” Ardyn asks and before Noctis can answer to him, you cut in.

“Give us a moment, please?” you flash an innocent smile at Ardyn.

“Of course.” He doesn’t sound surprised at all, but the emotion is obvious on the faces of your traveling companions. You gesture the guys to the side.

“I should go with him. Try to figure out what he really wants,” you suggest, keeping your voice down so the mysterious new acquaintance can’t hear your group conspiring.

Ignis’s brows furrow and he peers at you in thought while humming. “I suppose that wouldn't–“

“What? Absolutely not!” Gladio huffs and crosses his arms over his broad chest.

Noctis and Prompto trade worried looks, but stay quiet.

“There’s no telling what that creep might try to do,” Gladio continues. He shoots a glare at the rest of the guys. It speaks volumes about his big brother instincts kicking in.

You shrug. “Not like I can’t defend myself, Gladio,” you say and take a glance at the auburn-haired man standing next to his automobile, as he referred to it just a moment ago. The silly word makes you smile. The car is a convertible model, a purple-ish shade of red with a white stripe going lengthwise over the paint. The vehicle has a very classical feeling to it and you’re amused by how it suits perfectly its owner.

Eccentric and kitsch.

Happy with yourself from coming up with a description for Ardyn’s style, your eyes glide from the car to the man again. The guys met the peculiar stranger earlier in Galdin Quay, but to you the acquaintance is new. There is a piqued curiosity in your look as your eyes meet his amber ones again. His lips instantly form an inviting smirk and you turn away after flashing him a one of your own.

Your interest is definitely piqued.

“What do you think Noct?” Ignis inquires. He doesn’t want to put you into danger, but the potential chance of finding out who the awfully helpful and suspicious man is, is too tempting to ignore.

Noctis sighs and looks at you. He shifts on his feet, slight worry etching his brows. “You think you can handle it?” he asks quietly and Gladio lets out a groan of frustration. He can’t believe Noctis is even considering.

You nod sternly and find the giddy feeling of excitement and curiosity spur inside you. This is going to be interesting.

“Haha, I don’t feel too good about this,” Prompto says with a nervous chuckle.

You spare another look at the strange man. He seems to be perfectly calm as he waits for your conversation to end. In fact, he looks like he has all the time in the world to wait, but maybe that’s just because he knows your entourage is in hurry.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be okay,” you assure and pull a smile to support the words. It does nothing to calm Gladio, but it suffices for the others.

“Alright then,” Noctis concludes, “Y/N will go with him. We’ll be right behind you so you’ll be safe.”

Ignis inhales and lets out a sigh. “Do be careful.”

“Yeah,” Prompto agrees.

“I don’t mind feeding him his teeth if he touches you,” Gladio grumbles and the sentiment makes you chuckle.

“Thanks Gladio,” you quip and grin, “but I’m sure I can do that myself should the need arise.”

Gladio scoffs and rolls his eyes, though he looks amused.

You return to Ardyn and he looks to each member of your group expectantly. His eyes linger on you, but his confident expression never wavers.

“All set,” Noctis informs.

“You wouldn’t mind the company of a lady for the ride, would you?” you ask cheerfully, all smiles on the outside. Your heartbeat is picking up its pace as the rush of adrenaline from pulling an act enters your veins. You can feel Gladio’s disapproving look at the back of your neck, but you resolutely ignore it.

Ardyn takes a curious look at you. “You might find the cab fare to be more than you bargained for,” he muses and hums as if he said something funny.

“It’s a long drive and I’m sure we could find something interesting to talk about.” Ardyn quirks his brow at your flirtatious tone. “Besides, it’s really crammed in the backseat of the Regalia.”

While the guys hold back their incredulous reactions, you smile sweetly to Ardyn as he thinks about your suggestion.

“I suppose it would be wrong of me to deny the chance of a comfortable ride from a lady. Very well,” he agrees. There is definitely interest in his eyes as he once more takes a look over you. This time you’re sure it’s more as to check you out than just out of platonic curiosity.

“Sounds good,” you purr and continue ignoring your friend’s expressions.

“With that decided, let us be off,” Ardyn confirms and turns to speak to Noctis, “Follow me and drive safely.”

The guys turn to leave and Ardyn opens the passenger seat door to you into his automobile. You have to bite your cheeks to hide the snicker that tries to escape your mouth.

“Here you go, my dear,” he says in a tone more soft than he had talked with before. You can almost hear Gladio gritting his teeth.

“Thank you,” you say and make sure you make eye contact with Ardyn before stepping into the car and sitting down on the deep purple leather seat. You notice a pom-pom on the antenna over the hood and chuckle.

A gentle and musky whiff hits your nostrils with the wave of air when Ardyn sits down on the driver’s seat.

He smells nice. I need to know what cologne he uses.

You look at him blatantly as he ignites the engine and the steady purr of the motor starts. The guys are already at the Regalia, waiting for Ardyn to lead the way.

“Shall we then?” Ardyn asks, turning to face you.

“Yes, please!” you say with a nod and a smile. Your pulse is faster than what is comfortable and you silently begin to question your own decision to hop into the purple car.

You don’t make it out of Lestallum before Ardyn talks again.

“I introduced myself earlier, but I’d very much like to know your name.” You let his soft, oily voice shamelessly coddle your sense of hearing. Everything that comes out of his mouth sounds so sincere, but in almost a sarcastic way – insincere sincerity? The way he talks makes you think of a cat stretching out sweetly. You smile inwardly at the thought.

“I’m Y/N. Pleasure to meet you, Ardyn,” you say politely, but keep up a friendly, conversing tone.

He repeats your name quietly, as if thinking that you surely have met before.

“What is it?” you ask and turn to glance behind to see the Regalia following at a safe distance. Noctis is driving. Poor Ignis.

“Oh, nothing. You have a beautiful name,” Ardyn replies coolly.

“Flatterer. I bet you say that to all the ladies,” you retort, but smile at the compliment.

He laughs at your wittiness. “I assure you, it has been a while since I had the chance to enjoy such pleasant company.”

A wave of uneasiness flushes through you, but you are not one to stand back from a chance to play. Besides, there is something attractive about how he is the definition of a creepy, slimy guy who acts like a real charmer. You kind of want to poke him to see how he responds in that oily voice of his.

“Mm. Is that so? I suppose we should make the most of it then,” you hum complacently. Ardyn glances to see the smirk decorating your features. Your heartbeat still hasn’t calmed down and you hope you can keep your bodily reactions under control.

You take a moment to inspect his profile while he is focused on the road. His hair is fluttering in the wind, wavy, auburn locks no longer framing the strong features that are actually quite handsome. Ardyn looks like he harbors no worry in the world – his posture is laid-back and his grip on the wheel relaxed.

Despite being strange, he is quite charming. Maybe I should ask for his number.

“Tell me about yourself,” Ardyn asks suddenly, well aware of the fact that you’re still scanning over him.

You take a moment to think about what to tell him. It’s obvious that he knows who you’re traveling with, though he hasn’t said a word to hint into that direction. Anyone who knows something about anything could add one plus one and figure out it’s the supposedly dead runaway prince of Lucis, who has business with the Archaean.

“I… was a field nurse,” you reply nonchalantly. You force your thoughts away from the destruction of your home. There will be a time and place to dwell on that, but it’s not right now.

“Interesting,” Ardyn hums, “So you’re the designated healer of the group?”

“Regrettably, yes.”

He lets out a joyous laugh and glances at you with the smirk lingering on his lips, before returning his attention to the road ahead. You’re already out of the long tunnel that leads to Lestallum.

“The guys can be a handful sometimes,” you explain.

“Yes well, the job of a healer is traditionally an ungrateful one,” Ardyn says mysteriously, “I do hope you get your due recognition.”

Is that concern, I hear?

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I make sure the guys know who keeps them alive,” you assure with a chuckle.

“Good,” Ardyn remarks with a hum.

Chatting with Ardyn is actually easy and you find yourself relaxing against the leather seat while trees and occasional buildings pass by as blurred images. He keeps carefully inquiring about you, but not touching the reason of your traveling with the four guys. This suits you just fine and you stay away from the topic as well.

When you think you have warmed the waters enough, you begin to toss questions about Ardyn himself – just out of curiosity, of course.

The answers you get are infuriatingly vague. As if he knows you’re trying to figure him out. Each of your questions are countered with a one directed at you of similar topic, so you end up sharing a lot more about yourself than actually gain the information you joined the ride for.

After an hour or so, you give up the direct approach and decide to continue your flirtations to warm him up to further inquiries.

So you talk about the weather, politics, history of Eos and brush the sensitive topic of the war – before Ardyn apologizes saying he didn’t mean to upset you. You’re still amused by his way of speaking. There’s something old fashioned in the way the words glide from his lips. You smile to yourself, thinking that Prompto would say he talks like a grandpa.

The only thing Ardyn really cares to talk concerning himself, is his travels. You have no idea how someone of his age has seen so much of the world, but he has. When you ask about it, he just offers his work as the obvious answer, but declines your further inquiries. You make a mental note to pry the information of his occupation out of him later.

The dark of the upcoming night begins to creep onto the sky as the sun begins its set. There are still hours left in the day, but Ardyn insist you stop at the next Coernix Station to rest for the night. You’re sure the guys won’t like the plan.

“What say we call it a day here?” Ardyn suggests when the Regalia pulls to a stop next to his automobile. You get out of the car, stretching your limbs.

“’What say’ we continue on to Cauthess?” Gladio snaps back as he leaves the car, slamming the door shut after him so hard that he earns a warning look from Noctis. It’s his father’s car after all.

“The Archaean’s not going anywhere,” Ardyn reminds him in that theatrical tone of his. You notice the clear difference to when he was talking alone with you. The revelation is something you need to come back to later on.

“Neither are we, under your stewardship,” Ignis sasses.

Nice one, Iggy. You toss a beam at him, chuckling lightly. Ardyn sees it out of the corner of his eye and a look of disappointment flashes through him before the usual confident smirk is back on his lips.

“So we make camp… with Ardyn?” Prompto summarizes. He doesn’t sound too happy and to be honest, you didn’t expect the journey to turn into an overnight party either. With or without Ardyn.

“Hell no,” Noctis agrees and crosses his arms defiantly.

You’re not sure what there is to be done any more if your guide refuses to continue and Gladio seems to reach the same conclusion as you.

“Might as well get the tent up,” he says with a deep sigh.

Ardyn tilts his head. “Oh, I’m afraid I’ve never really been one for the outdoors. I shall foot the bill, so let us stay at the caravan over yonder.”

The guys trade looks. You shrug when Noctis looks at you inquisitively. Maybe he is waiting for you to warn him that Ardyn is planning on murdering all of you when the night falls.

“Suits me,” you say and reach the Regalia to grab your bag. Ardyn is pleased by your show of faith and the others start gathering their overnight supplies as well. Ignis begins to ponder out loud what he should prepare for supper, while Gladio marches past you to the caravan and you can hear him mutter under his breath.

While Prompto is helping Ignis with the food supplies and Ardyn has gone inside the station to pay for the overnight rent, Noctis motions you to him.

“What did you find out?” he asks in a low tone, eyes peeking to each side to make sure Ardyn isn’t within hearing range.

You heave a displeased sigh. “He’s cleverer than he seems. We gotta be careful,” you say, “He really won’t tell me anything important.”

Noctis cocks an eyebrow at you. “So what did you talk about for the whole ride? The weather?”

Your cheeks feel warm. “This and that after I realized I can’t get anything out of him.” Your eyes escape the prince’s examining stare.

After the amazing supper that Ignis cooked is eaten, your entourage sits outside of the caravan, talking and joking around as per usual. Ardyn paces for a while, claiming it’s better to move around a bit because of the long ride in the car. He is telling even less about himself to the guys than he told you, when Ignis shoots him with sharp questions. Somehow Ardyn manages to weasel his way out of each one or twist the replies into so ambiguous mess of words that no one can really make any sense of them.

Ignis follows your footsteps in quickly giving up the cross-examination and moving on to more pleasant topics.

Oh and Ardyn can be charming when he so chooses. You and the guys are laughing at your shared stories and jokes, and even Gladio, who seems to still hold a grudge against Ardyn for appropriating you for the car ride, is booming with laughter despite the man’s presence.

At some point of the evening, Prompto takes out his camera to snap a few more shots. He calls you to pose dramatically, like he usually does, and you have good laugh about the next addition to the on-going series of “camp-side supermodels”. Prompto shows the photos he has taken during the day and Ardyn seems quite pleased and surprised when his image pops on the display.

“Well, well, if it isn’t yours truly,” he says in that ridiculous, theatrical tone of his that is very far from the voice he used when speaking alone with you.

“Um, if you’d rather not be in photos…” Prompto starts. He seems a bit awkward about the fact that he hasn’t told Ardyn he is being photographed.

“Oh, I don’t mind at all! Snap away – for His Highness’s collection.” The smug grin on Ardyn’s face is almost amusing.

Noctis turns his head. “Err, what?”

You lean back in the chair, exchanging meaningful looks with Ignis. So far Ardyn has not clearly mentioned that he indeed does know who Noctis is. Maybe he just didn’t want to make noise out of it in public, because you refuse to believe he doesn’t have everything about your journey figured out already. You make another mental note to ask about the matter later.

It’s getting late and Ignis is the first one to turn in, soon followed by Prompto and Noctis, even though you know they’re gonna stay up longer than the others and play King’s Knight on their phones.

Gladio yawns and stretches his arms in the air.

“Would you care to join me for a small stroll around the premises?” Ardyn asks from you and offers his hand.

“At this hour?” you question with a curious glance at the outstretched palm.

“I believe a little exercise lets one sleep better,” Ardyn explains with an innocent chuckle.

All the while you talk, Gladio’s look skips between a worried one towards you and a downright murderous towards Ardyn, who seems to be blissfully oblivious of it.

You place your hand on Ardyn’s palm. Excitement bursts your heart into pounding like a drum. His hand feels cool and the leather of his fingerless gloves is soft, but worn. You catch another whiff of his alluring scent.

“Don’t go far,” Gladio says in a warning tone more to Ardyn than you.

“Don’t worry,” you shoot him an assuring smile and resist the urge to wink. It’s best to not rile up the Shield any more than he already is. Besides, if he didn’t trust your ability to take care of yourself, he wouldn’t have let you go with Ardyn in the first place.

“We will stay within your sight at all times,” Ardyn assures to Gladio as you stand up from the plastic garden chair. You’re sure Gladio rolls his eyes at Ardyn’s words, but he lets out an almost approving grunt.

You begin to pace forward at a leisure pace. Ardyn let go of your hand as soon as you were on your feet and the brief touch left your skin tingling.

“The stars are so bright here,” you say quietly to make a conversation.

“Oh?” Ardyn looks up too, as if he only just realized the stars are visible, and then his amber gaze lowers down to you.

You shake your head under the curious look. “Insomnia has… had… so much light pollution that you couldn’t really see them,” you explain.

“You said this is your first time outside the city?” Ardyn questions, quickly steering the topic from an unpleasant one. You’re grateful for his thoughtfulness.

You turn your head to look at him walking next to you, and realize that he is really tall.

Suddenly there’s no surface under your sole. You step into something that feels like an endless pit and land awkwardly on your right ankle. There is a weird sensation of something shifting and you can barely even start thinking about what just happened, when a flashing pain makes you wail aloud. You stoop forward and end up on your knees and palms on the asphalt.

“Oh my! Are you alright?” Ardyn is already crouching next to you, caring hands on your shoulders and ready to help you up. “Looks like there was a hole in the road…”

You can hear Gladio’s quickly approaching steps. You move your legs and wince again. Your knees and palms sting, but the pain is secondary to the one burning your ankle. You can literally feel the blood rushing and pulsing inside it.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” Gladio asks in a concerned tone. You know he is ready to pick you up if you just say the word, so you focus on clenching your jaw and cursing under your breath.

“I just tripped…”

After a good while and with Ardyn and Gladio’s help, you sit on your rear on the cool asphalt. This was not how you wanted your day to end.

Fulgurian’s hairy ass.

“I think it’s sprained,” you say finally after very carefully examining your ankle. It’s tender and hot to the touch and pulses of pain course through it constantly. Ardyn and Gladio follow your motions; waiting for any instructions on how to aid you.

“Can you walk?” Gladio asks. A little panic enters his voice and his hands hover over you, unsure of what to do to help.

“Yeah, it just hurts a little,” you assure. Or more like hell.

Ardyn shakes his head while tutting quietly. “My dear, let us help you back to the caravan.”

You ignore the glare Gladio throws at Ardyn and take hold of both of the men’s shoulders. They help you up to stand. You take a couple of calming, deep breaths and extremely carefully begin to put on weight on your right foot.

Okay, careful now…

The instantly following jolt of pain makes you yelp and you lift the leg again.

Nope.

“So you can’t walk,” Gladio gathers with a huff.

“I’m gonna need some ice for it,” you say while hopping forward with one leg. You have a tight grip on Ardyn’s sleeve on your right side and your arm on Gladio’s shoulder on your left side.

“I think there was an ice machine by the gas station,” Gladio says. You’re almost at the caravan and, oh boy, aren’t you glad that Ignis is already sleeping, so you don’t have to listen to his nagging.

The men help you sit down on one of the plastic chairs. You’re still not putting your feet down and the pain is getting worse by the minute. You must have stretched or torn the ligaments on the outside of your ankle.

Great. Just perfect.

Ardyn crouches in front of you, amber gaze finding your pained expression.

“You should take the shoe off before it swells, my dear,” he says calmly, “May I?”

You nod and brace yourself for the torment.

“I’ll go get the ice,” Gladio says and jogs off after throwing a cautious look at Ardyn, who is now holding your leg gently.

Ardyn opens your shoelaces as much as possible, and then slowly begins to work the shoe off your foot. You stare at his focused face. His brows are lightly furrowed and his lips pursed together, yet the look in his eyes is tender and somehow it makes your stomach flip. His motions are very careful and, to your surprise, you don’t feel any sharp stings of pain.

You release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, when Ardyn places the shoe on the ground.

“Thank you,” you mumble and when he looks up to you with sincere concern in his eyes, your cheeks feel warm.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help but feel a little responsible of your injury,” Ardyn says softly and straightens his back, but doesn’t stand up.

“What? Why?” you ask with raised brows.

Ardyn just looks at you with an inscrutable expression and lets out a wry chuckle.

“Here you go,” Gladio suddenly rumbles next to you and a bag of ice appears into your view.

It takes two seconds of you to rip your eyes off the smile that has appeared on Ardyn’s lips and you turn to accept the bag from Gladio. “Thanks…”

Despite holding the ice on it for a good while, your ankle soon becomes swollen and every little bit of movement hurts, making you grit your teeth in pain. A nice set of lilac bruises soon flower on your skin and you’re no longer wondering did you twist your ligaments or not.

Next Chapter

#ardyn x reader #ardyn izunia #ffxv fanfiction #ffxv #final fantasy xv #fanfiction #trash jesus #noctis lucis caelum #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scientia #prompto argentum #sweet disaster #my writings

144 notes · View notes

themurphyzone · 7 years

Text

Mystery at McDuck Manor Ch 2

Ch 2- Interrogation

To recap for the absentminded, I, the do-gooder Darkwing Duck, have been called out of my territory to investigate the theft of a painting at the McDuck Manor. I am currently holding a green post-it note and a pair of goggles as evidence. It will take wits, skill, and a little help from Starducks’ Triple Chocolate Mocha with three extra shots of espresso to close this case. I pace in front of all the occupants as I contemplate the best course of action....

“Would you get on with it already?” Donald snaps. “The boys are going to keel over any second now!”

Only the green one seems remotely close to falling asleep. The other two appear extra happy at staying up past their bedtime.

“Fine, fine. People just don’t appreciate a good expository monologue these days,” I grumble. “Now, where did you last see the painting?”

“It was in the garage,” Scrooge replies, pacing back and forth. At this rate he would wear out the carpet within the next hour.

“And you are absolutely certain that you didn’t move it elsewhere and forget?” I ask.

That mere slip of the tongue earns me a jab to the jaw with his cane. “I may be old, but my memory is sharper than a dozen African elephants,” he snaps.

If he disfigures my rather prominent and dashing bill, I’ll be sure to send him the medical costs.

“Noted,” I say, backing up. “Now, I shall have to question the children. With their valuable information, I can catch our suspect red handed!”

“I get to help in an investigation? So cool!” The little girl exclaims.

An elderly woman glares at me. “Questions only. They will not be helping you catch the thief if they’re still skulking around.”

I nod. As a general rule, I don’t care for tact. But if the woman in question looks like she could squish me into a ball with her thumb, then perhaps a bit of tact is in order.

Or a lot.

“I don’t like this. He’s accusing my boys,” Donald mutters. “Nobody accuses my boys.”

“Get it over with already. Just answer the best you can,” Scrooge sighs.

I clap my hands. “Great! Do I have any volunteers?”

No response. Huh. You’d think children would be happy to spend a little time with the daring and dangerously handsome Darkwing Duck.

I am currently in the kitchen area with the red triplet. He watches me as I sharpen my pencil in preparation for note taking, eagerly awaiting the moment I drop my guard so he can gather reinforcements and overpower my otherwise indomitable will....

“Is Huey Duck your full legal name?” I ask.

“Well, as far as I know it’s spelled Hubert on my birth certificate,” Huey replies, scratching his head. “I can pull up the document for you if you’d like. The Junior Woodchuck guidebook states that it’s important to at least have two forms of official documentation at all times.”

Oh, he’s a Junior Woodchuck. I assume he knows how to tie knots, set traps, and make friendship bracelets out of paperclips and bubblegum. He could very well be a crafty individual....

I shall proceed with caution.

“Where were you at the time of the theft?” I ask.

Huey thinks, scratching his chin as he comes up with his carefully crafted answer designed to cover up his involvement. “Webby was showing us the proper way to slide down the banister of the stairs. Please don’t tell Uncle Donald we were doing something that could’ve resulted in a broken arm if done incorrectly.”

“HUEY! YOU AND YOUR BROTHERS WERE DOING WHAT?” A raspy snarl sounds from behind me. Huey flinches and laughs nervously.

I tap my foot to get Donald’s attention. “Excuse me, good sir. I was in the middle of a very important matter. Away with you, and I’ll fill you in on the results when my interrogation is complete.”

“Interrogation, my tailfeathers!” For the sensitive eyes of any youngsters viewing this file, I shall not record the resulting tirade of quacks, swearing, and onomatopoeia that occur when two angry ducks duke it out on a stress-filled night.

(The following is an afterward for my archives at the tower. Let this be a lesson to myself: Make sure prying, short tempered uncles cannot eavesdrop on any future interrogations.)

I humbly apologize to Scrooge McDuck and I have purchased a new pressure cooker that I will send off tomorrow to get his lawyer to stop staking out on the walkway of the Audubon Bay Bridge. How does he even know where my lair is?

Enclosed in the package is an photograph of me posing heroically in front of a defeated Steelbeak. I even perfected my signature for the occasion! It’s a loopy cursive style, my preferred choice of penmanship, by the way.)

Huey Duck admits to being in the same vicinity as the aviator goggles. This is a most peculiar development.

I shall now proceed to the blue triplet.

After I drag myself to the nearest pharmacy for some painkillers....

There is now a screen set up by yours truly that separates the kitchen and parlor to prevent Donald from interrupting my investigation with his irate inanities.

The blue triplet grabs a handful of cookies for a midnight snack. A rebel I presume.

“So do you have a secret identity and stuff?” he asks through a beakful of crumbs. “Maybe I should adopt one myself. But until then, I’m just plain ol’ Dewey.”

I keep my distance so the crumbs don’t hit my newly ironed cape. “A secret identity?” I laugh. “Crimefighting is a 24/7 job, kid. I don’t need one as long as there are criminals to bust.”

“I’ve seen my Uncle Scrooge turn a dragon to stone,” Dewey says, leaning casually on the back of his chair. “I bet you can’t turn a dragon to stone.”

“Hah! I don’t need to!” I growl. Is he challenging my abilities as a vigilante? Well, he had another coming! “I defeated Eggmen with nothing but sunflower oil and a vase! I bested the likes of St. Canard’s thieves, litterbugs, and supervillains time and time again! Can your uncle do that, kid?”

Dewey yawns. “Sure he can.”

I decided to change the subject before my pride as a hero gets dragged through the mud, run over by a dump truck, and thrown into Davy Jones’ Locker.

“What were you doing the night of the theft?” I ask.

“Wait, is this an interrogation?” Dewey looks around, flipping the tablecloth as he looks underneath it for something.

How unusual.

Some might call it suspicious.

“Where are the lights? Did you bug the room?” Dewey asks. “This can’t be an interrogation if I’m not tied to a chair! Oh, maybe I could do the James Pond thing and escape with a laser ballpoint pen! Do you have one of those?”

“Answer the question,” I say, waiting for a response. “Your uncle will tar and feather me if I tie you up.”

Dewey blinks. “Fine. We were sliding down the banister.”

So the story checks out then. “Anything else?” I ask.

“It was pretty funny when Louie went down the banister just as this strangely shaped trenchcoat tumbled down the stairs. He thought it was Uncle Donald in disguise,” Dewey snickers.

A strangely shaped trenchcoat? Now we’re getting somewhere.

“And did you see who was in the trenchcoat?” I ask, clicking my pen as I jot down all the new information. “Or their height? Distinguishing characteristics?”

Dewey shakes his head. “Um, it was kinda long. It was a really big trenchcoat, but whoever was inside it was definitely about average size since we never saw their face.”

“And does this look familiar to you?” I hold out the aviator goggles.

He nods. “That fell out from underneath the trenchcoat when they fell down the stairs.”

“I see. Well, that concludes this round of questioning. Your contribution is much appreciated,” I say proudly.

Dewey huffs. “Uncle Scrooge can burrow through gold like a gopher. Bet you can’t do that.”

I take back what I said about appreciating his contribution.

There’s something shifty about the green one. It must lie in how his hands remain in his pockets as he slumps against the chair. Or how he yawns every few seconds without expressing any strong emotion. Or the half-lidded gaze he gives me when my cape flutters.

“And you are?” I ask.

“Louie. Hey,” he says, as if I was nothing more than his bestie.

“Louie. Do you know what this is?” I dump a crumpled green post it in front of him.

“It’s a post it,” he says.

I must resist the urge to slap my forehead. “I know it’s a post it.”

Louie shrugs. “So why were you asking me then? I mean, I guess you’re old and stuff, not as old as Uncle Scrooge but still a lot older than me.”

He did not just call me a senile senior citizen who slowly walks down the hallway of an assisted care center with a walker and spends the rest of his days playing bingo and gin.

I mean, my feathers aren’t turning gray or anything! I’m not that old!

“Look, kid. I’ll let bygones be bygones. Now, tell me what the post it note was doing near the painting.”

Louie scoffs, folding his arms. “I just put the post its on cool stuff I want to inherit when I’m older. I put them there a few weeks ago. Nothing to do with the theft.”

A red herring. Or a green herring in this case. Seems plausible enough.

“One more question before I let you go,” I say. “Did you happen to see who was in the trenchcoat?”

He shakes his head. “I was kinda more focused on getting back at Dewey for laughing at me when I fell off the banister.”

I sigh. “Fine. Thanks for your help.”

A gas gun falls out of his hoodie.

“Hehe. I thought it needed a little cleaning. There’s a bit of dust on the barrel,” Louie chuckles.

A hero’s intuition is never wrong. I was right to suspect he was up to no good!

“Oh my gosh an actual investigation!” the girl shrieks. She stands on the table in an action pose. I have to admit, she doesn’t look half bad. “And I get to help! I’ve never done this thing before! Can I be your sidekick? Temporary sidekick? I’ll organize any files you have! I’m the best when it comes to organizing!”

“Sorry,” I say. “Darkwing Duck is a loner who bravely champions the moonless nights, weathers through the thunderstorms, and stalks prey with hardly a sound. A tag-along would only slow me down.”

She nods, only looking slightly crestfallen. “Well, I’m Webby, for future reference. So, anything I can help you with then? I mean, there’s got to be something, right?”

“What happened after whoever was in the trenchcoat tumbled down the stairs?” I ask.

“They opened the front door and ran outside,” Webby replies.

Eureka! Then they stole the painting!

“Thanks, kid!” I exclaim. “Now, let us reconvene at the parlor to catch ourselves a thief! But first, you want a picture together? I’m trying to reach out to a younger audience here. It’ll help for marketing in the future.”

She grins.

How Webby hid a selfie stick on her person, I will never figure out.

“I’m done with my questions!” I say, waiting for the onslaught of questions and shouts from my enraptured audience.

Ahem.

“And?” Scrooge taps his foot impatiently.

Tough crowd. People don’t react like they used to.

“From these questions, I have concluded that the thief came in through the upstairs. They would’ve put the trenchcoat on after they entered the manor, though I don’t know why they took the roundabout way instead of just directly heading for the garage. From there, they tumbled down the stairs and made a beeline for the garage, where they stole the painting.”

Donald huffs. “Perfect. As if I didn’t have enough to deal with already. Kids, go back to bed. I don’t want you being all cranky in the morning.”

They groan and protest, begging for a chance to capture the thief.

“Please! I’ll donate a kidney if you’d let me!”

“No one steals from us! We can catch them!”

“I know how to set traps! I just need a lot of rope and duct tape!”

Scrooge taps his cane against the ground, and they instantly quiet down. “We’re dealing with someone who knows their way around the manor. They’ll be back soon enough. Now, I have a plan to catch them....”

As Scrooge announces his plan to reclaim the pilfered painting, I sit back to contemplate the events that transpired during the interrogation.

And I have come to a single conclusion.

I am never having kids. Not even if you bound and gagged me on an exploding motorcycle.

Not now or ever.

#ducktales 2017 #darkwing duck #huey dewey and louie #webby vanderquack

18 notes · View notes

moonchris6 · 7 years

Text

The American Family

This story is fictional. It contains sexual situations between members of the same sex, opposite sex, and within the same family. Love, moonchris. The American Family Chapter 1: Baseball Mitch threw his baseball glove hard into the back seat as he climbed into the car. “I hate baseball!” he said, trying to hold back tears. “Honey, you’re 9 years old. You can’t expect to play baseball and never make a mistake.” said Shawna, his mom, as she pulled out of the ball field parking lot. She had signed him up last month at his own insistence. He was so excited to be playing ball with all the other kids, but his struggles, and the way he reacted to them, were starting to worry her more and more. “Mom! I struck out twice, and when the ball was hit to me it went by me every time. I play in right field. I’m the WORST kid on the whole stupid team!” She caressed the back of his neck. “Baby, there was that one time that you hit the ball. You’re getting better, you really are!” “Yeah, right to the pitcher. I’m an easy out every time” “You know what? I’m going to send you to be with your uncle Ivan. He played minor league baseball for 3 years. He’ll get you hitting the ball and catching it too.” Shawna said this before really giving it too much thought. Her brother Ivan’s lifestyle was mysterious to her and it caused her great worry thinking of her son there. He always talked about nudism as a teenager. She never knew if he was serious about it. Then he met his wife, Alanna, and she thought he’d settle down some. Only then they were always going to these weekend retreats all over Minnesota, Illinois and other areas in the midwest. Even after having the twins, Becca and Melanie, they don’t seem to have settled down much. Twins whom, by the way, don’t really look much like Ivan. Not to mention that twins didn’t run in their family. Were they nudists? Were they… more than nudists? Like an open marriage?

“I can really go live with uncle Ivan and aunt Alanna?” Mitch said, his mood suddenly brightening. “For how long?” “Let me talk to you father. Maybe a couple weeks. That will let your sister off the hook from watching you.” Mitch was sick of his sister, Erin, watching him. She didn’t really “watch” him. At 13, she was always on the phone, watching tv, using her iPad, just about anything but watching him. He usually told her he was going to a friend’s house, she’d nod, and then he’d leave for the day. They arrived home, Shawna happy that her little boy had cheered up on the short drive from the ball park. “Run upstairs and get ready for dinner. Go shower, you’re all dusty.” she said. Mitch grabbed his glove and bat and headed upstairs. His baseball failures forgotten, he was thinking about the idea of living with uncle Ivan and aunt Alanna. He once spent the weekend there over the winter, and walked in on them having sex. Fucking it was called. They were doing it in the den, and Ivan heard him walk in and turned his head and their eyes met. Uncle Ivan just smiled and went back to fucking Aunt Alanna, who didn’t even know he’d walked in on them. Mitch remembered Ivan’s strong muscular ass cheeks and the balls and the bottom part of his dick shaft as it drilled into his aunt. His own dick had started to get hard, which had only happened a couple times before that, but ever since then, it’s been happening every day. Mitch was still thinking about his Uncle and Aunt fucking when he got to the bathroom door, which was just a couple inches ajar. That’s odd, he thought. It’s usually either opened or closed. He paused before entering, and heard his sister Erin on the phone. He cracked open the door and could see her bare legs as she sat on the toilet. “... I know, Sherri!” (Ah, she was talking to her friend with the bigger boobs, whose nipples were always sticking out of her shirt). “No, I’m telling you, he saw me do it! We were laying in the perfect spot on the beach. He was on his stomach down closer to the water, and you and I were on our back further up. I looked down and saw him looking at us. So I pulled aside my bikini bottoms to show him my pussy, and I’m telling you, his head jerked up. He had on the sunglasses, but he definitely saw my pussy. He probably even saw the juices. I was so wet!” Who was she talking about? Who saw her? He quietly pushed the door open a couple more inches and saw thighs and bare ass on the toilet. He could just see her pussy, right below her flat tummy, not a hair on it (some of his friends already had hairs on their dicks -- so why doesn’t Erin? She’s 4 years older). She had two fingers rubbing up and down on her pussy, and her hips were slowly moving back and forth on the toilet seat. “Just thinking about it now Sherri, I’m playing with my pussy. It’s really wet again. I so want to lose my cherry. I would love for Todd to do it…” Todd! Could it be Todd Baker? He’s a senior in high school, linebacker on the football team! He’s 18 years old! Mitch’s dick had swelled watching his sister touch her pussy and listening to her talk about Todd. “I can’t believe how tight his body is and those muscles! I wonder how big his dick is?” Silence. “You did? Your dad’s? Oh my god, I love your dad, he is so sexy for an older guy! What did it look like?” Mitch pushed the door open a bit more, but this time it squeaked. He froze, but Erin heard it, and looked over. “Mitch! What the fuck!!” Mitch bolted back into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. His dick had gone soft as he thought of the trouble he would be in. He couldn’t get the image of his sister out of his head. Her tan skin, thin thighs, and red pussy lips. He wondered what her boobs looked like. They were small, way smaller than her friend Sherri’s. He started thinking about what her nipples must look like--- Bang! Bang! Fists on his door. “Mitch, open the door! NOW!”

He unlocked it and she came in and closed it behind her. “What the fuck were you doing? What did you see?” “I didn’t see hardly anything! I was supposed to take a shower, Mom told me to.” “Hardly nothing huh?” Erin stared at him for a few seconds and no words were spoken. Then a different look came over her face. “Mitch, what do you know about girls? Have you seen a pussy? Do you even know what a pussy is?” “Gross! I don’t care what it is, just get out of my room.” She sat on his bed next to him and seemed to be considering something. “Mitch, I know dad hasn’t given you The Talk yet. So I’m going to, and now is a good time.” Mitch was a little scared about what was happening now, but his thoughts kept going back to seeing Erin on the toilet, seeing her play with her pussy. He’d never seen a pussy that close before. “Listen,” Erin continued. “We’re going to have a talk about stuff. You can NEVER tell mom or dad, or they’d kill us both! I will show you a few things, but you can’t touch me.” With that, she stood up and motioned for him to do the same. “Take off your shirt, little bro”. He paused, then realizing she was not mad or tricking him, he relaxed and took it off. “You have small nipples. Most guys do. Have you ever played with them?” He shook his head. “Let’s start with that. But just to be fair, I’m going to take off my shirt and bra. Remember, you cannot touch me, but I will probably touch you to teach you.” She slowly unbuttoned her shirt, staring at his eyes, which were staring at her chest. His dick was rock hard in his baseball pants again. Her shirt came off and the tiny training bra was all that covered her little boobs. She grabbed the bottom of it and pulled it over her head. And there they were. Mitch’s first look at real tits up close. They were small, cone shaped with nipples that covered most of the boob. They reminded him of mountains that you see in paintings with the snow that covers about half way down. Only these were much much smaller! She continued. “Now Mitch, nipples on a girl are usually very sensitive. Sometimes they are for a guy too. Let’s find out for you.” She stepped close to him and with her fingers gently rubbed over and around his nipples. Shots of electricity went from his nipples to his little dick, down to his feet and back up again. His knees got weak. She laughed. “I see they are sensitive for you too! That’s great!” She bent down and flicked her tongue on his nipples, causing a sensation in Mitch unlike any he ever thought possible. He felt butterflies in his stomach and a swirling in his dick, like he had to pee, only he knew he didn’t. Without thinking, he reached up and squeezed one of her nipples with his thumb and 2 fingers.

“Mitch! I said you cannot touch me!” He put his hands down, and she went back to swirling his nipples with her tongue. Looking down, she said, “I see from your dick that you are really enjoying this. Do you have any questions?” “Why does it feel so good? What is happening to my dick? It feels really funny and kinda hurts, but feels good at the same time!” “Everybody loves being touched,” she said. “Your body is enjoying the attention I’m giving it. Let’s continue with our education session.” Her formality made Mitch smile. He also smelled something strange in the air, but couldn’t place it. She knelt down before him and started to undo his baseball pants. Startled, he stepped back. “You’re going to see my thi-- I mean, my dick. I can’t let you see that!” “Okay,” she said and got up. “I’ll see you at dinner then.” “No wait, I guess it’s ok. Please don’t stop. I’m just a little scared.” he said. She walked over to him and put her hands on his shoulders. “Listen Mitch,” she said, all serious. “I know we fight a lot. All brothers and sisters do. But when push comes to shove, I really do love you. I’ll protect you when anybody picks on you, and I’ll take care of you if you need me to. You’re my baby brother. I’ve always thought you were adorable, since you were a little baby. I used to play with your little wee wee. That’s what we called it. Once when you were 3, and mom wasn’t looking, I licked it. Anyway, that’s another story. The point is, I’m not going to hurt you. Try to not be scared. Everybody goes through this when they first learn stuff.” “How do you know so much about all this?” he asked. “The internet! Dork. Me and Sherri have seen lots of stuff. Plus Unc---” she stopped herself. “Well, the internet is where I learned just about everything.” With that, she gave him a hug, and he felt her bare boobs against his upper chest. His dick was like steel now, and he felt dizzy. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and went back down to her knees. Picking up where she left off, she slowly inched his tight baseball pants down, first one side, then the other, back and forth. They came down to his ankles finally, and he stood there with his underwear tightly covering his hard dick. She looked up into his eyes as she hooked her fingers under the waistband and slowly pulled down. When they were lowered, his little dick sprung back up and slapped against his belly. She sat back on her heels and just stared at it. He picked up a sense of awe on her part. Had she ever seen one? What happened between her and….. Uncle Ivan? He didn’t dare break the spell of the moment by asking any questions. “This here is your dick,” she said without touching him. “Or your cock. I like the word dick. Cock is gross and reminds me of roosters. That’s stupid. I don’t know many other names for it, but I guess there are a bunch. Below your dick are your balls.” Here she paused for a long moment. It was like she was willing up the courage to continue. “I’m going to touch you now,” she said, and simultaneously slid one hand into her own skirt while grasping his tiny dick with thumb and forefinger. She started rubbing her pussy, just like she did in the bathroom. “You’re small now, but don’t worry, you’ll grow bigger when you’re older.” Mitch barely heard this, the effect of her fingers on his dick were overwhelming. His eyes rolled back into the back of his head and he started to moan loudly. “Quiet!�� she said. “You don’t want Mom walking in on us!” He somehow got his vocals under control but was still breathing unsteadily and hard. His voice emitted the occasional grunt, as though he were the quietest Santa Claus in the world “ho…. uh… ho…” “Erin.” he said shakily. “What…. about…. you?” Erin didn’t appear to hear him, her eyes so focused on his little 4 inch dick. “Erin?”

Finally her head snapped up. “Oh yes,” she said. “That’s right. Fair is fair.” She reluctantly let go of his cocklet and stood up. She unzipped her skirt in the back and quickly slid it down, more quickly than he wanted her to. She was there in her little girl panties. She looked at his eyes, smiled, and pulled them down just as quickly. Mitch’s jaw dropped open as he stared at her hairless slit. Her legs were together so it looked like an artist had simply drawn a little line on her body just above where her legs met her hips, and the line continued out of sight between her legs. Something inside him wanted to beg her to spread her legs so he could see more. But he just stared, dumbfounded at this new treasure before him. She broke his reverie. “Let’s get on the bed, Mitch. Here, I want us to sit cross legs, like indian style.” “We don’t call it that anymore.” She rolled her eyes as they got into position, knees an inch apart on either side of them, facing each other. “Now here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to try and give you an orgasm. I’ve, um, never done this before, not like this anyhow, but I don’t know if you’re old enough to have one.” “Orgasm?” “Yes, it’s when you cum. Your body tightens up and it’s the best feeling in the world. You’ll see.” “Do girls have them too?” he asked. “Oh yes, we definitely do! They’re the best thing ever!”

With that she grasped his dick with 2 fingers again, and started to stroke it up and down, pulling the skin up and almost over his cock head, which was difficult as it was very tight. The reaction was immediate. Mitch’s body stiffened and felt better than he ever had before. The electricity ran through him up and down his body. He wiggled his ass and pumped his hips, causing his entire body to shift slightly toward her, and their knees touched. She stopped briefly but then continued. “Oh god,” he panted, his eyes squeezing shut. “You’re allowed to swear with me,” she said. “It usually makes it even better.” “Oh. Okay. … Fu- Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” This was new, as he tried it on for size. “Ohhh, fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckity fuck!” She grinned. “I’m not sure you even know that word means,” but he was not listening anymore. Suddenly, both his hands reached forward and grabbed her legs just above the knee. She stopped stroking him, and he quickly lifted his hands, opened his eyes, and she stroked him some more. After a second, he put his hands back on her legs and this time she didn’t stop. He was entering another world, one in which his dick was in complete control, where his entire body revolved around his dick, and the feelings there, like the planets around the sun. It felt like a volcano must feel when the lava starts to make its way to the top. His fingers alternately squeezed and relaxed, eventually causing his hands to inch their way up Erin’s slim smooth thighs. He opened his eyes to look where they were and saw her rubbing her own pussy, almost violently. He thought, how can I be so wrapped in my feelings and ignore looking at her pussy!?? So he stared at it, again his fingers reflexively tightening like a kitten as it sucks the milk from the mother cat’s teat. Slowly inching closer and closer to those flaming red pussy lips. Meanwhile, his own body was starting to feel different somehow. Something was happening.

Erin said, “Mitch, watch your hands, remember you can’t tou-- Ohhhh fuuuuuck...” He didn’t know why she stopped speaking, but looking down he saw her grab his hand and pull it onto her wet leaking pussy, her own hand covering his and holding it tightly against her mound. This drove Mitch to the stratosphere, and seemed to have the same effect on her, as he watched her entire body tense up. Her grip on his dick tightened and he somehow knew he was passing a threshold never before experienced. A gutteral groan came from Erins body and his at the same time. She found two of his fingers and shoved them into her pussy while pressing down his hand onto her mound, almost to the point of causing him pain, if he weren’t so focused on his own feelings. This was the “orgasm” she mentioned, he knew it had to be. His entire body went stiff and started to shudder as his eyes squeezed tight. Together brother and sister shook as one as his hand caused jolts to her pussy, which caused her jerking hand to jolt on his cock and the cycle continued. After what seemed like a near death experience, they both exhaled loudly and collapsed forward, each forehead hitting it’s siblings shoulder. Panting heavily, they were silent. Each had a hand on the other’s genitals still, and each subtle movement they made caused the other to experience another jolt. Finally she looked at his eyes and said, “Just as I thought. No cum.”

“Cum?” he said? “Another time, baby bro. We’ll talk about that another time. Are you hungry? Cuz mom’s calling for us.” “Starving,” he said. “Fucking starving.”

Chapter 2 coming soon...

5 notes · View notes

pokemaniacal · 7 years

Text

Pokémon Moon, Episode 12: In Which I Infiltrate A Gang Stronghold

Once I’ve stopped shaking uncontrollably, and the Rotomdex has reassured me that the horrifying undead Pikachu I just fought is only another Pokémon (a Ghost/Fairy-type called Mimikyu), Acerola offers me some suggestions on what to do next. Although my success in her trial was in some respects debateable – I was, she reminds me, only supposed to get a photograph of Mimikyu, not give its lair a new back door – I did basically achieve its fundamental objectives, so she presents me with her crystal, the Ghostium-Z. As Ula’ula Island has only two Captains, that means I now have the right to challenge the island’s Kahuna. Acerola declines to explain who or where the Kahuna is right away, though, and invites me back to Aether House to talk it over there. Unfortunately when we get there, with Hau just a few steps behind, someone who is definitely not the Kahuna is waiting.

“Back so soon, hmm?” Plumeria, Team Skull’s self-described ‘big sister,’ is parked in front of Aether House with a couple of grunts. “I wasn’t expecting you just yet,” she says to Acerola. “I heard you were supervising a trial, and-” she stops mid-breath as she catches sight of me. I flinch and quickly sidestep behind Acerola. “You!?” I swear under my breath. “…hi there, uh… Plumeria, right? Good to, uh-” “What did I tell you about messing with my little brothers and sisters, jerk?” “I don’t… remember exactly? But I’m sure it wasn’t good. Um. D-do you think we could talk about th-” She laughs out loud. “Give it a rest, kid; I’m messing with you. You’re on the level.” “…oh. Um… really?” “Yeah – now make damn sure it stays that way.” I gulp nervously, drawing a smirk from her. Acerola looks back and forth between us like she’s following a tennis match. “…what on earth are you two talking about?” “Nothing that concerns you, Captain,” Plumeria tells her icily. Her gaze flicks back to me. “Now. It takes these dumb grunts way too long to deal with you kids… so I guess it’s my turn!” “Wait!” I protest. “I thought we were cool!?” “That was personal. This is business,” Plumeria clarifies. “I told you before… next time you get in our way, I’m not holding anything back!” With a flick of her wrist, she directs her grunts to engage Acerola and Hau, then summons her own Golbat. I respond with my Toucannon, and Beak Blast it right out of the sky. When Plumeria turns to her partner Pokémon – now evolved into Salazzle – I switch to my Raichu and fry its brain with Psychic. As at our last meeting, Plumeria (in stark contrast to Guzma) barely acknowledges the loss. “Hmmph. Guess you are pretty tough. Now I understand why my grunts waste so much time battling kids.” “Well, that’s part of the reason,” I say slyly, then suddenly remember my sense of self-preservation. “Uh. I mean. Yeah. That must be it.” Plumeria glares at me, and I swear I can feel a hole being drilled through my skull. “If you want us to return the Pokémon, then you’ll have to come to us. Alone.” “Wait, what? Pokémon? What do you-?” She just keeps talking over me. “The boss is just dying to meet you, hmmph! See you at our base in Po Town!” With that, she and her grunts are gone.

Inside Aether House, the gravity of the situation soon becomes apparent. Lillie and Nebby are both miraculously untouched, since Lillie of course chose to save her own treacherous skin the moment danger reared its head. However, the Yungoos belonging to the little girl I met here just a few hours earlier has been kidnapped. If Plumeria is to be believed, it will be found in Po Town, on Ula’ula Island’s northwest cape, and Team Skull is expecting me – and only me – to come and retrieve it. Acerola explains that Po Town is Team Skull’s “private playground,” a whole settlement that they’ve taken over and run (or rather, fail to run) to serve their own random whims and instant gratification. This is clearly an obvious trap and a terrible plan, and will more than likely lead to my murder in a dark alley. There is, of course, no way for me to get out of it. Damn it, the kid is standing right there; I can’t even argue about it without seeming like a total monster. Why can’t she just grow up bitter, angry and emotionally unstable, get a new Pokémon, and hunt them all down for revenge years later? It worked for Hugh!

As I leave, Acerola points me to “this guy on route 15 who’s wearing a kimono” for help crossing the nearby bay to reach Po Town. At first I am sceptical of her attribution of useful transport expertise to random strangers on the basis of overly formal dress sense, but it turns out she has a point: “this guy” is none other than Grimsley of the Unovan Elite Four. After a brief exchange of small talk, Grimsley presents me with a bet. “Tell me. Uncle Grimsley is going to flip a coin. Will it be heads or tails?” I think for a minute. Grimsley is obsessed with luck, but part of his philosophy is that luck can sometimes really be a matter of decisions made behind the scenes: how you play your hand is much more important than the cards you draw. And I’ve heard him talk about coins before… something he said on Black and White? “A flipped coin doesn't always land heads or tails. Sometimes it may never land at all...” “Neither,” I tell him with a sly grin. He looks at me curiously, then flicks his coin up into the air and catches it. “…astonishing,” he says, shaking his head. “I had indeed been planning to have Skarmory snatch it out of the air as it spun in the sky.” I laugh. I guess sometimes “making your own luck” means cheating so outrageously that your opponent is forced to respect your ingenuity. In any case, my prescience has earned Grimsley’s respect, and apparently the right to call one of his Pokémon with my Ride Pager: Sharpedo, who can carry a rider across the water like Lana’s Lapras, but can also shatter boulders like Hala’s Tauros, getting me safely across the rock-strewn bay on the west coast of the island.

On the north side of the bay is a small white prefab building that I recognise as one of the Aether Foundation’s field labs – run, strangely enough, by Left and Right. Are they just… doing odd jobs for the Aether Foundation while they’re on holiday? Or are they manipulating the foundation into serving their own dark and mysterious ends? It seems like the answer may be the latter, as the lab houses a large multi-coloured crystal that, according to the Kalosians, can induce Zygarde’s scattered cells to reform. I’ve collected quite a few cells since meeting them in Heahea City, enough to embody one of Zygarde’s dog-like lesser manifestations, as well as two cores. Each core apparently contains the knowledge of one move that can be included in Zygarde’s moveset – the cores I currently possess know Thousand Arrows and Dragon Dance. Left and Right are pleased by my progress towards resurrecting their god. Their cult’s recruitment numbers are on the rise, and even a lesser manifestation of Zygarde’s power will go a long way towards winning the hearts and minds of the Alolan heathens. Another dozen cells, and I will have reassembled enough of Zygarde to summon its giant cobra form, and any who still doubt Zygarde’s power will be brought to heel by the might of the World Shaker! “…and your enlightened theocratic rule will bring an end to strife and disunity in Alola, right?” I ask. “C’est ç’la, oui, oui,” Left says, turning to Right and starting a rapid back-and-forth in Kalosian about something that neither of them cares to explain. I guess they’re done talking to me.

North of the lab, the road leads through Ula’ula Meadow, another Oricorio habitat. The ones in this area feed on nectar from deep crimson flowers that gives them Fire-type abilities. There are no other new Pokémon here, but there is a trail off the east of the main road that leads to a truly spectacular ruin – a vast circular dais, surrounded by stone fortifications, on an island in the middle of the Lake of the Sunne. The complex seems completely abandoned, but almost certainly serves some kind of ritual function, and if I were a betting man I’d say that the dais was built for summoning a legendary Pokémon. Maybe this is where Lillie will perform whatever dastardly blood ritual is necessary to call Lunala and begin her destruction of the Alola region…

Once I clear the meadow, I’m on the outskirts of Po Town. As promised, there are plenty of Team Skull members here, but just like those in the desert settlement, they don’t seem to have aggression on their minds. One straight-up admits that he’s rubbish at battling and relies on his Team Skull brothers and sisters for protection; others challenge me, but are perfectly cordial. The only hint of anything more sinister is the police station on the side of the road – abandoned and overrun with Meowth. Po Town itself is completely encircled by a stark, forbidding concrete wall, its only gate guarded by a pair of grunts. I try for negotiation at first, but the conversation quickly takes a sour turn when they notice my Z-Ring and Island Challenge amulet. This is for one very simple reason: Team Skull is apparently made up entirely of people who failed the Island Challenge. Funny how no one mentioned that before. It might have been useful to know, Kukui. My attempts at talking my way inside only deteriorate from there, and end with the grunts retreating inside. Well. I suppose I could try and get my Toucannon to blast a hole in the wall… “You there. Boy,” says a voice from behind me. The speaker is a haggard-looking older man wearing bits and pieces of an Alolan police uniform. “Seems to me you’re trying to get into Po Town. You sure you’ve thought this through?” I shrug. “As far as I’m likely to. What’s it to you?” “Hmph. Kids.” He walks toward the gate. “You’d better be ready if you’re thinking of coming in here. Ready to live as Team Skull… or ready to take on Team Skull.” He turns back to me and looks me right in the eyes. “You really think you’re ready for that?” I narrow my eyes and stare back. “No, really, what’s it to you? You’re the only person I’ve seen out here who’s not with Team Skull. What’s your deal?” “My deal is keeping people safe, kid – whether they care or not. Now I’m gonna ask you one more time: you ready for this?” I roll my eyes. “Ready for Team Skull? Sure. They’re not as dangerous as people think. There’s good in them.” I pause for thought. “Some of them, anyway.” The man looks surprised. “I guess everyone has their own reasons. Maybe yours and mine aren’t so different. I’ll have them let you in.” He raps on the hard metal door, than turns to me and says, almost as an afterthought, “If you don’t make it, I’ll be sure your remains at least get back home.” “…wait what.”

Po Town is… well, it’s definitely something. The high, enclosed walls have created a local microclimate dominated by heavy rain. The town itself looks like it was once a very nice, upper-crust sort of area, with pretty little houses and neat gardens, the sort of place where sitcom families live their nauseatingly ideal lives. Team Skull’s influence, though, is palpable. Every available surface has been tagged with spray paint, most of the buildings have at least one broken window, and even the Pokémon Centre is barely operable. The Team Skull members running the place are happy to heal my Pokémon, but explain regretfully that they have to charge a small fee to keep the lights on. The Alolans really have just left them here to rot. I make a mental note to give Kukui a good chewing out when this is all over. Battling or evading grunts as I go, I navigate around the barricades on the main road and head for the back of the town, which is dominated by an opulent mansion that has seen better days. This, I can only surmise, is “the boss’s crib.” Guzma isn’t exactly subtle; he’s bound to be in the most extravagant accommodations available. The front door seems to be unguarded, so I creep up in the shadow of a hedgerow and quietly slip inside.

The inside of the mansion is as much a bomb site as the rest of the town. The walls and floor are covered in crudely painted designs, overturned furniture is scattered around the lobby, and a massive gilded chandelier is blocking one arm of the grand staircase. I don’t make it any further than around the first corner before someone grabs me by the arm and drags me into an alcove. “What are you doin’ here, homie!?” a voice whispers. I blink. It’s B, his face a mix of anger, surprise and… concern? “Don’t you even know what the boss’d do if he caught you!?” I blink again and yank my arm away. “I’m here to see Guzma,” I hiss at him. “He stole a Pokémon from a friend of mine and I am here to get it back.” B’s eyes widen. “You don’t gotta do that, yo! That ain’t your fight! The boss is gonna flip!” “Someone has to, and I don’t see anyone else around here who’s going to stand up to him!” I step out of the alcove and into the middle of the hallway. “Now are you going to help me, or get in my way?” B clenches his fists and yells in frustration, wrenching a Pokéball from his belt. “Argh! If I gotta put up a defence to make you see some sense, then let’s drop this pretence, yo!” B has expanded his roster since we last fought, adding a Gastly and a Salandit to his Golbat, but all three are Poison-types and none are a match for my newly-evolved Slowbro’s psychic powers. Our battle is over quickly, and he slumps into a battered old chair, looking despondent. “What’s the use?” he says. “I’m never gonna be strong like you. I’m an incomplete grunt; this is the only place for me in the whole world.” He hangs his head and lapses into silence. I sigh and sit down on the floor, my back against the wall. “There’s more to being strong than winning battles, B.” He says nothing, but cocks his head at me. “Guys like Guzma think being strong means beating other people down, making them do what you want, crushing their potential. It’s not. Being strong is about building other people up. That’s why we train Pokémon, right?” “Easy for you to say,” B mutters. “Your Pokémon are strong.” I chuckle. “Weren’t always. It takes training, patience… you have to see the potential in them, everything that they could be. Guzma… he’s a Bug-type specialist; he ought to know that better than anyone. If he treats his Pokémon like he treats all of you, I don’t know how he ever got his Golisopod to evolve.” “He’s been havin’ us hustle all the Buginium-Z crystals in Alola,” B muses thoughtfully, “so’s no one else can be a stronger Bug Pokémon trainer.” “See! That’s exactly what I mean! He thinks being strong is about keeping your rivals weak.” I shake my head. “Izzat really what you want Team Skull to be about? The way Plumeria talks, she makes you guys sound like a family.” He’s silent for a few beats. “We are. We take in trainers who’re… incomplete. Give ‘em somewhere what they can call home, when everyone else’s given up on ‘em. Just like me and Zubat.” “After you failed your island challenge?” B looks up at me sharply. “I heard that’s how a lot of Team Skull got started.” He frowns. “…that’s complicated.” “I bet it is. And I bet the Captains and Kahunas didn’t have time for ‘complicated,’ right?” He doesn’t answer. “You don’t have to tell me the whole story now. Just… look, just help me get to Guzma. You don’t need to help me fight him. But one day, you’re gonna. And you’re gonna win.” B stares at his feet for a moment. “Sometimes I want to smash the world, but I’m always afraid of it.” He breathes out slowly, then clenches his fists. “All right. Follow me.”

B leads me upstairs, past more trashed rooms and hallways, and out to a balcony where a Team Skull guard asks him for a series of passwords: Guzma’s favourite move (Beat Up), Pokémon (Golisopod) and drink (Tapu Cocoa). When asked if he’s sure about his answers, B yells “no!” and we’re let through – apparently Guzma likes his minions to have a contrarian streak. Climbing out over the roof, B shows me through a broken window and into the building’s east wing, the part blocked off by the chandelier on the stairs. Finally, we reach a closed door. B raises his hand to knock, and then stops. “It’s okay,” I tell him. “You got me this far. I’ll handle the rest.” “…you sure, homie?” “I’m sure. Just remember what we talked about, okay?” He furrows his brow, but nods. “Be careful, yo.” I grin. “I always am, aren’t I?” He rolls his eyes, but dashes off. I turn and knock on Guzma’s door.

Guzma’s room is just as messy as the rest, and a fancy landscape painting on the back wall has been thoroughly defaced with a Team Skull logo in purple spray paint. A huge chest full of yellow-green Z-crystals sits in the corner, where a grunt stands guarding the kidnapped Yungoos. Guzma himself is lounging on a big armchair set up on a low stage like a throne. He stands as I come in, and looks down at me curiously. “I don’t really get you, kid, but at least this is a change of pace,” he tells me thoughtfully – or at least, what passes for thoughtfully with Guzma. “It’s not every day someone comes straight to me for a beating!” I sigh. “Look, dude… I honestly wouldn’t even be up for this most days, but I do kinda have something to prove here, so listen up. I’m here for the Pokémon you stole. Beatings are 100% optional, but are absolutely on offer.” Guzma laughs. “What, Yungoos? How sweet of you to help out a sad little girl. Can’t you just watch out for your own Pokémon and stay out of other people’s business?!” I sigh again, more theatrically this time. “Seriously, I hear you, I do, but again: something to prove today. There’s someone on your team who needs to see that you’re not worth being scared of, so we can do that the easy way, or the way where you spend the next six weeks tracking down bits of your spinal cord all over Alola.” He stares. “You’re one messed up kid!” “Well, I mean, I prefer to think of myself as creative, and I guess I do have an overactive imagination, but-” “You wanna know what I do when some machine messes up?” he talks over me, raising his voice. “The first thing I do is give it a nice hard smack!” “I guess this is happening now,” I say with another sigh, then hastily sidestep the Golisopod that is suddenly barrelling towards me, and send out my Decidueye. Golisopod leads with its devastating First Impression strike, and takes little damage from Spirit Shackle. Looking for breathing room, I tell Decidueye to heal off the damage with Synthesis – and then the bloody thing uses Swords Dance. This… could seriously go south quickly. I pull out Decidueye’s unique Z-move, Sinister Arrow Raid, a devastating barrage of spiritual arrows that doesn’t quite knock out Golisopod, but does weaken it enough to trigger its Emergency Exit (which apparently bypasses the magical anchor created by Spirit Shackle), causing Guzma’s Ariados to pop out. Ariados opens with a nasty Sucker Punch that takes Decidueye completely off guard, then finishes him with Shadow Sneak when we try to heal again. Still, both of Guzma’s Pokémon are weakened now, leaving him open for a clean sweep from my Salazzle, who torches them both with Flame Burst. Guzma, to his credit, takes the loss gracefully and congratulates me on an honourable victory.

…nah, I’m just messing with you; he totally flips his lid and storms out of the room while shouting obscenities at literally everything and everyone in his path.

The Yungoos immediately flees the house. I assume it can find its own way home; after all, Yungoos are supposed to be smart… ish. Right? I take a moment to look around Guzma’s room and swipe a Buginium-Z from his chest, and am then compelled to try sitting in his chair. It’s… soft, relaxing, luxuriant… as I sit back and enjoy it, the door opens and a grunt rushes in. “’Scuze me, Bo-” He stops and stares at me. “What?” I ask irritably. “B-b-but you’re not the boss?!” he cries. “B!tch I might be,” I retort. “What’s the deal, homie?! You’re not the boss of me?!” the grunt protests. “Izzat not how this works?” I asked. “I whooped his ass; doesn’t that make me the boss now?” He just stares at me like his whole world is collapsing around him. I wave a hand dismissively. “Whatever, just… just go, I don’t care.” The grunt huffs indignantly and leaves. Well… can you blame me for trying?

Back outside, the man who let me into Po Town is waiting for me, along with the kidnapped Yungoos and Acerola (oh, sure, now she turns up to help). The run-down old man, Nanu, is apparently Acerola’s uncle, and the only police officer crazy enough to live anywhere near Po Town – because, he says, “the rent’s cheap,” though Acerola insists that he has a heart of gold and is doing it to help Pokémon. I… kinda love this character; he’s the bitter, cynical, misanthropic bastard I’ve always longed to be. We’re basically done here, so Acerola heads back to Aether House with Yungoos, Nanu goes back to moping in the rain, and I summon Kiawe’s Charizard for a ride back south. Guzma is beaten once again, and all is right with the world.

When I return to Aether House, Lillie is gone, Hau is panicking, and Gladion is there, in the process of completely losing his $#!t.

Oh good.

Ridiculous quote log:

“I might really go to paradise now that I’ve lost!” …I’m not going to kill you; jeez.

“OH EM GEE! Please don’t tell me that’s my Skull Tank you’re wearing?” “Ohhh, no wonder it stinks! It’s the same design though.” “It does not stink! That’s a lovely aroma! Anyway, we should write our names on them so we don’t mix them up.” “Uhmm, hello! Our names are all Grunt. What’s the point?” Well, I suppose this explains Team Skull’s lack of administrative nous…

The team:

Tane the Decidueye Male, Timid nature, Overgrow ability Level 38 Steel Wing, Razor Leaf, Synthesis, Spirit Shackle

Rhea the Toucannon Female, Lax nature, Keen Eye ability Level 38 Screech, Roost, Beak Blast, Brick Break

Ashley the Psychu Female, Timid nature, Surge Surfer ability Level 38 Discharge, Hidden Power (Ice), Nasty Plot, Psychic

Hypatia the Slowbro Female, Hardy nature, Own Tempo ability Level 37 Psychic, Yawn, Slack Off, Scald

Joanna the Salazzle Female, Timid nature, Corrosion ability Level 38 Flame Burst, Nasty Plot, Sludge Bomb, Toxic

Sigourney the Golisopod Female, Careful nature, Emergency Exit ability Level 37 Brick Break, Payback, First Impression, Leech Life

#pokemon #alola #pokemon moon playthrough #team skull #plumeria #po town #guzma #yungoos #acerola #nanu #oricorio #zygarde #sina and dexio #grimsley #sharpedo

20 notes · View notes

jillmckenzie1 · 5 years

Text

Magic Mic

Live theater is magic. That’s why I love it so much. There’s a long road between the initial impulse to express something theatrically and the concurrence of ability and opportunity to weave magic with an audience. Lots of us aspirants walk that road via open mics, which have a bit of a dodgy reputation. Open mics are notorious for being

Late at night

Weird

Of poor quality.

They’re the modern day pig-in-a-poke, a grab bag of unknown quantities. Performers come to workshop material, polish their chops, get some recognition from an audience. Coffee houses are known for endless three-chord-sad-song open mics and comedy clubs for terrible jokes from shaky comedians. I’d never heard of a magic open mic until I stumbled upon one that happens at the Mutiny Cafe on Broadway and Ellsworth. Incidentally, the Mutiny is just one block from the Hornet bar which has had three cars crash through its walls in 2018. There’s no connection here except that this is a crazy series of incidents that seems as unbelievable as a magic trick.

Sometimes live theater is literally magic, and I love that, too. I think magic a genuine art form, as Ricky Jay would agree. I know some magicians and have even written about them before. I love live performance of all kinds (comedy, dance, music, whatever) and magic seems like something where you must master a number of stage skills to be both believable and entertaining. Comedians have to talk convincingly and engagingly. Dancers have to move smoothly and effortlessly. Singers must nail the music and the audience connection. Magicians have to both talk to the audience and dance with their hands. They don’t, however, have to sing, although I suppose that might be useful, too. If anyone knows a singing magician, please alert me: I’d love to see their act.

Even expecting no singing, I was curious about what the magic open mic might entail. I borrowed a car because mine was destroyed in a crash (NOT my fault) a few weeks ago (NOT into the Hornet) and drove my boyfriend and myself to the Mutiny to check it out. I have a soft spot for the Mutiny because that’s where I met up to chat and get to know an extremely strange guy I later performed a lot of really weird acts with, which were not magical but were definitely *alternative.* At several points, he lit me on fire. But that’s another story. Nobody gets ignited at the Mutiny Monday night magic open mic, although I’d also love to see that.

The Mutiny has a generous coffee-and-pastries bar and I bought a drink and a piece of vintage pin-up art (because who doesn’t like looking at naked ladies?) and then settled in to see the show. It was…fun. The host, James Lopez, whom I had actually seen a couple of weeks before with the Rainbow Militia, was charming and engaging. There were about 20 of us in the audience, of whom I guess maybe five, including my boyfriend and I, were not participants or the significant others of participants. No matter. The performers were just about exactly what I expected. Lopez made a couple of remarks about some of them being “private performers,” which is not a term I am familiar with. I wonder if it means something like “in-the-bathroom-mirror performers.” I’m not saying that the acts weren’t worth a watch, because they were. But also, it’s a free open mic and David Copperfield wasn’t going to be there. Who did show up were some genuinely charming folks with an obvious love for their craft.

Brief aside: all the participants were men*. I like men, as a rule, but get tired of them taking up so much space in the spotlight. Are there any lady magicians out there? I can’t think of a famous one offhand. The sausage-fest is not the fault of the open mic organizers; it’s just my observation. I wonder what these men do when they’re not doing magic. Are they municipal lawyers? Middle managers at Target? Shift leads as Snarf’s? Where do these moonlighters go during the daylight? There was some polarization in the age ranges; the performers tended to be either Millennials or youngish Boomers/oldish Gen X-ers. Not a lot of mid-career guys up there. Anyway.

So was it magical? Yes. Live theater performers build a fragile, beautiful, original reality with their audience and that’s always magical. Was it fun? Yes. If the performers are having a good time, then the audience is having a good time. I genuinely enjoyed both the tricks and performers. My boyfriend is a hardcore atheist and skeptic in general and I’m pretty snarky myself, so we tried hard to figure out the mechanism behind the illusions. Sometimes we felt pretty confident that we could guess how it was being done. Sometimes we were totally baffled. Chris York, in a Christmas tie, was genial and polished. Some realness happened with a magician named DJ who told a narrative of his life as he turned the cards over. A hoop-earringed, turbaned guy named Christian Chackmool did a nifty trick with a suit jacket. William Rader, a dimpled cutie-pie with elegant hands like a giraffe, if giraffes had hands, did some manipulations with a ring-and-rope and cards. If Michael Buble did magic, he might do it like William Rader.

Here’s the part where I confess that my snarkiness turned publicly obnoxious. I am not proud of this, but social skills are not my strongest suit. The last magician of the night was Bob the Magician. I’ll say this: he has an energetic schtick. He’s the magician who doesn’t actually do any tricks, but has mastered the art of talking fast in a funny hat. None of his tricks were any more mysterious than your uncle pulling a quarter out of your ear when you were six. Even with high energy, unless you’re the Gamarjobats, this is a three-minute schtick. By the time he got to six minutes and was flirting with putting his hand in a rat trap. I tired of the tease.

“Sure, Bob, now actually do it,” I heard myself blurt out.

Yep, I heckled one of the performers. At an amateur open mic. Because I am not a nice person.

This clearly offended Bob and he got right up in my face and actually did close the trap on his hand. But our relationship was permanently diminished. I suspect that Bob the Magician does not like me. I also suspect that Bob the Magician should up his game because only a white dude gets to do nothing particularly skillful and be lauded for it, even at an open mic.

A white dude actually did the best trick of the night, which was nothing more and nothing less than skillful manipulation. William Rader did a long series of legerdemain involving invisibly flipping the cap of an ordinary, non-retractable pen from one end to the other. There’s no magic here except the brilliance of excellent handwork. When done this well, it’s endlessly fascinating. I’ll also call out that the host, James Lopez, did some really charming stuff with cards and coins and general likeability.

This bit of mystery happens every third Monday at the Mutiny, and if you want to make it a night of it, hit the magic show for some illusion, then the Pie Hole for a hot slice, and then the Ooh La La burlesque show at 3 Kings for some pretty ladies to balance out the maleness of magic. You can also find more magic at the Denver Magic Show, first Mondays at Avenue Theater. We could all use a little more magic in our lives.

*at least as far as I read their social presentation. Please pardon if I misassigned anyone.

from Blog https://ondenver.com/magic-mic/

0 notes

queen-of-songs · 6 years

Text

Chasing Fire or Rather Getting Rid of It

Sansa arrives in California, with that comes big changes and surprises along the way. Chapter Title inspired by Chasing Fire by Lauv

Sansa walked off the plane and went straight to the bathroom. She took out her brown contacts out and cleaned them before putting them back in. It always gave her a strange rush seeing her eyes. She secretly envied Jon’s eyes. Brown eyes were vastly underappreciated. They had layers of mystery to them that blue eyes didn’t, which is exactly why she picked her contacts.

Brown eyes with a hint of light blue specks in them. It gave her edge. Alayne was going to be edgier than “Sansa”. She wore dark colors and preferred black over anything.

All that was left was the hair. Sansa didn’t want to dye her hair brown or black. It felt almost too dramatic……

Melisandre suggested light blonde. That would be a good change. It would look nice and not be too dramatic. I just need to find someone who’ll take a walk-in.

“Hello Alayne, welcome to Storm End Salon! My name is Ros, I heard you wanted your hair dyed today. Why the change?” A short red haired woman came up to her with a friendly smile.

“I’ve always wanted to be blonde and I just got out of a bad relationship.” Sansa smiled.

“I totally get that. I dyed my hair pink after my ex Petyr dumped me for this crazy chic named Lysa.”

……..Gods…...she dated my creepy step-uncle?....More so a win for her….

“Oh, I am terribly sorry.”

“No worries. I’ve been talking to this guy online.”

“Really? Do you know his name?”

“Oh no. We’re going to wait until we meet in person. Right now he’s on mission, so it’s not safe for him to tell me his name.”

“I bet you’re excited to meet him.” “I am beyond happy. I’ve never felt this deeply for someone before. He understands me better than anyone else. He hasn’t judged me for my past.”

“Your past?”

“Before I became a hairdresser, I used to work in a stripper joint. That’s how I met my ex Petyr. He was the big boss. But the joint got robbed because he took horrible care of it. When he told me he was breaking up with me, he said he wanted a presentable woman to raise a family not a stripper with no future for herself.”

Sounds like creepyfinger…..

“I am so sorry he said that to you.” “It hurt but it was somewhat true. I didn’t have much a future because I didn’t graduate high school. But it gave me fuel, I wanted to prove him wrong. I got my GED and I went to beauty school. I got my license in hairdressing and worked up the chain. I co-own this salon with Selyse Baratheon.”

“That’s really amazing!”

and Encouraging.

“Thank you! Now let’s make you a blonde!”

“Woah…..it looks so different. I love it so much!” Sansa looked at her reflection. She couldn’t believe it. She was really becoming Alayne now.

“I’m glad you like it.” Ros smiled behind her and then took off Sansa’s cape.

“Thank you so much for this!” Sansa dug into her purse and handed Ros a one-hundred bill.

“......Oh Alayne this is too much….The dye job is only forty.” Ros’s eyes widened.

“No, I insist. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” Sansa smiled and Ros’s eyes filled with sadness. Somehow she knew the bad relationship was much worse than Alayne was willing to let on.

“Thank you Alayne. I wish you the best future in California. Come by whenever you need touch-ups!” Ros smiled and hugged Sansa.

Despite all the ugliness Sansa faced in this world, it always filled her soul with hope to find kind souls.

“I definitely will and I am going to recommend you to everyone I meet!”

Sansa walked down a ways and finally called a Lyft. The Lyft driver was sweet. He introduced himself as Grenn. He told her he had been in the Night’s Watch for five years and Sansa resisted every urge within her to ask if he knew Jon. Probably not...The Night’s Watch is a fairly large operative base.

“What made you quit?” Sansa asked after looking at the cheapest hotel prices. None were in her price range.

“Eh. I wasn’t feeling it anymore. Too much inner drama between the ranks. I wanted to do something I enjoyed. I love driving and meeting new people, so this job is perfect for me. But I do miss my friends.” Grenn tapped on the wheel.

“What were their names and what were they like?”

“Sam, he was overweight. I was kinda perplexed on whatever possessed him to be in the Night’s Watch. He’s one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met. He’s one of those learner types too. Great medic, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s enrolled himself in medical school by now. He has his second child on the way with his wife Gilly. Pyp loves to sing. Can sing just about anything. I remember when his girlfriend Val heard him sing for the first time. She fell over herself in the bar and after the singing, went up to ask him on a date. I’m pretty sure he’ll propose soon.. Then there’s Satin….”

“Wait….you have a friend named Satin?”

“Yes.” Grenn chuckled. “His mother named him that because he was so soft as a baby. He had loads of people from all over flirting with him and giving him their number. I can’t remember how many numbers he has in his phone. Edd is a very funny and bitter man. He has a lot of wit and very sarcastic. He loves to laugh at all of us, especially Sam.”

Sansa smiled to herself. It sounded like a wonderful group of friends. She missed Jeyne, Mya, and Myranda. She wondered what they were doing with their lives now. She was swept up by memories of her teen years when Grenn’s voice spoke a name she knew well.

“Lastly, there’s Jon. He’s quite shy and kept to himself. But he’s a great leader. Youngest Captain to ever serve in the Night’s Watch in years. He’s very thoughtful and will do anything to help a friend. Fiercely protective. Loves to talk about back home.”

“Where’s he from?”

“Wintertown, Virginia.”

“Oh…….” “Oh? You know him?” Grenn looked over at her and she quickly shook her head. She couldn’t risk anyone she loved lives, especially with the possibility of Ramsay coming after her.

“Oh no. My friend Sansa knew him.”

“ Ooooooh. You know the famous Sansa?” Grenn smiled maniacally and Sansa rose an eyebrow.

“The famous Sansa?”

“Yes. Jon could never stop talking about her. He’s mad for her that’s certain.”

“Sansa told me she didn’t think he loved her.” “Jon’s shy and he has a hard time opening up to others. He told me he doesn’t think he’s good enough for her, which is complete madness.”

Sansa’s heart felt constricted. Jon didn’t think he was good enough for her? More she wasn’t good enough for him. How did this happen?

After a long silence, she spoke up again.

“Does he know what happened to her?”

“......No. What happened?”

“She was caught in a house explosion. They weren’t able to find a body.” Her voice broke and tears streamed down her face.

“Oh gods…...how recent was this?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“Have you told her family?” Grenn’s voice sounded grim and Sansa could barely stand to look at him.

“I...I never….I thought she was an orphan. I never knew she had an actual family.”

“She did….Jon said he loved her family. They were tight knit and loved each other strongly. They’re going to be…..and Jon’s going to be devastated to find this out.”

Grenn’s voice was full of pain for his best friend and Sansa felt horrible. But this was for their own good.

I can’t let them get hurt for my foolish mistakes.

“When…..when you tell them say you heard it from the news. Sansa had a vengeful ex-boyfriend and I am scared of him……..I cannot let him find me.” Sansa began crying and Grenn pulled over the car. He held her for a few moments until the tears stopped.

“I promise I won’t tell them that I heard it from you. Should I tell them about the ex?”

“No. I assumed Sansa never told them about him because he’s an abusive monster. I told her she should leave and she almost did but it was too late.”

The rest of the ride was met with silence until Grenn asked if Sansa if she wanted something to eat before he drove her to the Dragonstone Hotel. She nodded vigorously.

Sansa sipped at her Oreo milkshake as the car slowly pulled up to the Dragonstone Hotel. It was different than most hotels she’d ever seen. It looked like a castle you would see in Europe.

Am I in a fairytale? Sansa mused.

“Here we are Alayne. It’s been great getting to know ya.” Grenn had a soft smile on his face. Sansa dug in the purse and pulled out eighty dollars. Grenn’s eyes widened.

“No, no, no. I don’t deserve this Alayne…..” He was attempting to refuse but Sansa wouldn’t let him.

“You comforted me when I cried and put up with my large order. It’s the least I can do.”

“But Alayne….”

“But nothing Grenn.” She began to hand him over the money and Grenn tried to take his slowly away from it, when his elbow hit the horn.”

“Ah seven hells. I hate when I do that!” Grenn gruffed and Sansa resisted every urge to laugh. While he rolled his eyes, Sansa placed the money in the cupholder. She began to go out of the car, when a dark tanned girl with long black hair walked out of the Dragonstone to look at the car. Sansa wished she could look that flawless.

“.....Is that who I think it is?” Grenn whispered and sunk lower in his seat.

“....Who do you think it is?”

“Arianne Martell…..she’s…...oh gods…...ugh...she’s my...I don’t even know at this point. I cannot let her see me! I’m going to leave now. If you need me, you have my number. See you later, Alayne.” Grenn muttered and gestured for Sansa to leave the car. She quickly grabbed everything and got out of the car. Sansa waved at Grenn as he backed out of the driveway and onto the road again.

A knowing smile played on her face. Oh man, Grenn’s got it bad. It reminds me Bran when he stumbled all over himself when he saw Meera in her homecoming dress. He had such a big smile on his face……

The thought made her full of sorrow. She would be never be with them again. See Bran with his sweet demeanor after reading a book. Watch Arya smirk after scoring a goal against a snotty goalie. Hear Robb’s deep laugh after Theon huffing behind one of his conquests after calling her the wrong name-her twin sister’s. Smile at Rickon’s blue eyes widening at a pair of new hockey skates. Cry in Dad’s neck after his big arms hugged her after she told him she got a full ride music scholarship. Cuddle closer to Mom’s fingers running through her hair after Joffrey broke up with her. Jon’s brown eyes looking into her own, making her feel known and……..

No. I can’t think about that. That’s dead. Sansa Lyarra Stark is dead. Kill the girl and let Alayne be born.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and saw Arianne. Arianne had a small yet kind smile on her face and held out her hand to shake Sansa’s.

“Hello, my name is Arianne! I’m the Dragonstone Event Coordinator. You must be the new cabaret singer Alayne! The boss absolutely loved your audition tape. She’s excited to meet you.”

“Hello, nice to meet you Arianne. I am excited to work here!”

“Let’s go in and meet the boss. Then we can get you settled into your room.”

The inside of the hotel smelled like chocolate chip cookies. It almost felt like walking into Winterfell. Especially with the sound of giggling children coming closer towards her. Five boys ran out into the lobby chasing after one another. Laughing and calling each other names. It was precious. But then a short, blonde woman waddled into the lobby.

“Boys! I told you not to run in the lobby! If you do it again, you will not be allowed to go to Disneyland with your Dad!”

“But Mom…….” The tallest one with olive skin and long black hair whined.

“But nothing Rhaego Aerys Dothrak! You know better. You need to be a good example to your little brothers.”

“Yes Mom. I’m sorry.” Rhaego looked down at the ground. The petite yet very pregnant woman walked over to him and hugged him as tightly as she could. It was a sweet scene. Sansa tried to erase the memories of her own mother hugging her but failed to no avail. Thankfully, Arianne spoke up.

“Daenerys, our new cabaret singer Alayne just arrived a few minutes ago.”

“Oh hello, It is so nice to finally meet you in person! My name is Daenerys Targaryen-Naharis, owner of this fine hotel. I absolutely loved your audition tape.” Daenerys smiled.

Sansa smiled back and noticed a boy with light brown hair trying to wink at her. She tried her hardest to keep a straight face. But the Tullyness won out over the Starkness. Daenerys rose an eyebrow and then followed her gaze. She ruffled the boy’s hair and he groaned.

“Mama..…..I’m trying to impress the pretty girl.”

“I know.” Daenerys laughed and nodded to other boys to come closer.

“These are my all of my sons. Boys’ why don’t you introduce yourselves?”

“Hi. My name is Rhaego. I’m twelve….um I like Ironman and karate.” He re-introduced himself and then Dr. Lovestruck coughed.

“Hi! My name is Jorah. I’m ten. I named after Mama’s old friend.

I love music and every genre it has. Maybe we could sing together sometime. How old are you?”

“I’m twenty one.” A small smile appeared on Sansa’s face and Jorah sighed.

“In eleven years would you wait for me?”

How sweet…..but in eleven years I’ll be a mom to a pre-teen…..Oh I need to make an appoinment soon!

“Alayne? Is everything alright?” Arianne asked.

“Oh yes! I just remembered I have to make an appointment with a doctor soon. I just want to check up on things.” Sansa smiled and Daenerys tilted her head.

“If you want, I can recommend you to a great doctor. His name is Dr. Luwin, he’s absolutely fantastic! His number is in my office, I can give it you it right now.” “That would be lovely, thank you so much!” Sansa began to follow Daenerys when they heard a collective “Ahem.” They turned around to see the youngest three boys looking at them. The older two went off somewhere with along with Arianne.

“Oh that’s right. The triplets didn’t get to introduce themselves. They’re seven and complete rascals.” Daenerys laughed.

“I’m not! I’m good, mama. My name is Maegor. Um….I like comic books. I’m going to be a Superhero.” The shortest boy out the three smiled. He had wavy dark brown hair and blue eyes covered by glasses, ending with a face full of freckles.

“My name is Brynden. I like food….. No! I love food! Especially cupcakes!” The boy with cherubic cheeks and deep set dimples giggled. He looked just like his mother.

“I’m Barristan. I like the MMA fighters on the TV. I’m going to be the Dragonstone fighter. I know how to kick butt!” The tallest boy spoke full of confidence. He had light brown hair with blue with hints of lilac in them.

They’re all so sweet.

Daenerys looked at her boys with loads of love and Sansa hoped she would love her baby just as much.

What if he/she looks like Jon? That would hurt……..but at least it would remind me of good memories.

“Ready to go to my office?” Daenerys’ soft voice broke through Sansa’s thoughts and she nodded.

*Recommendations*

Book: The Summer of Chasing Mermaids by Sarah Ockler

Song: I Like Me Better-Lauv

TV Show: The Mindy Project

You all are the best and you are greatly appreciated:)!

--Queen of Songs

#jonsa #Jon x Sansa #sansa x jon #jonsa fic #jonsa fanfiction #jonsa fandom #actuallyjonsa

0 notes

incestuous-confessions-blog · 6 years

Text

The American Family (1)

Chapter 1: Baseball Mitch threw his baseball glove hard into the back seat as he climbed into the car. “I hate baseball!” he said, trying to hold back tears. “Honey, you’re 9 years old. You can’t expect to play baseball and never make a mistake.” said Shawna, his mom, as she pulled out of the ball field parking lot. She had signed him up last month at his own insistence. He was so excited to be playing ball with all the other kids, but his struggles, and the way he reacted to them, were starting to worry her more and more. “Mom! I struck out twice, and when the ball was hit to me it went by me every time. I play in right field. I’m the WORST kid on the whole stupid team!” She caressed the back of his neck. “Baby, there was that one time that you hit the ball. You’re getting better, you really are!” “Yeah, right to the pitcher. I’m an easy out every time” “You know what? I’m going to send you to be with your uncle Ivan. He played minor league baseball for 3 years. He’ll get you hitting the ball and catching it too.” Shawna said this before really giving it too much thought. Her brother Ivan’s lifestyle was mysterious to her and it caused her great worry thinking of her son there. He always talked about nudism as a teenager. She never knew if he was serious about it. Then he met his wife, Alanna, and she thought he’d settle down some. Only then they were always going to these weekend retreats all over Minnesota, Illinois and other areas in the midwest. Even after having the twins, Becca and Melanie, they don’t seem to have settled down much. Twins whom, by the way, don’t really look much like Ivan. Not to mention that twins didn’t run in their family. Were they nudists? Were they… more than nudists? Like an open marriage?

“I can really go live with uncle Ivan and aunt Alanna?” Mitch said, his mood suddenly brightening. “For how long?” “Let me talk to you father. Maybe a couple weeks. That will let your sister off the hook from watching you.” Mitch was sick of his sister, Erin, watching him. She didn’t really “watch” him. At 13, she was always on the phone, watching tv, using her iPad, just about anything but watching him. He usually told her he was going to a friend’s house, she’d nod, and then he’d leave for the day. They arrived home, Shawna happy that her little boy had cheered up on the short drive from the ball park. “Run upstairs and get ready for dinner. Go shower, you’re all dusty.” she said. Mitch grabbed his glove and bat and headed upstairs. His baseball failures forgotten, he was thinking about the idea of living with uncle Ivan and aunt Alanna. He once spent the weekend there over the winter, and walked in on them having sex. Fucking it was called. They were doing it in the den, and Ivan heard him walk in and turned his head and their eyes met. Uncle Ivan just smiled and went back to fucking Aunt Alanna, who didn’t even know he’d walked in on them. Mitch remembered Ivan’s strong muscular ass cheeks and the balls and the bottom part of his dick shaft as it drilled into his aunt. His own dick had started to get hard, which had only happened a couple times before that, but ever since then, it’s been happening every day. Mitch was still thinking about his Uncle and Aunt fucking when he got to the bathroom door, which was just a couple inches ajar. That’s odd, he thought. It’s usually either opened or closed. He paused before entering, and heard his sister Erin on the phone. He cracked open the door and could see her bare legs as she sat on the toilet. “… I know, Sherri!” (Ah, she was talking to her friend with the bigger boobs, whose nipples were always sticking out of her shirt). “No, I’m telling you, he saw me do it! We were laying in the perfect spot on the beach. He was on his stomach down closer to the water, and you and I were on our back further up. I looked down and saw him looking at us. So I pulled aside my bikini bottoms to show him my pussy, and I’m telling you, his head jerked up. He had on the sunglasses, but he definitely saw my pussy. He probably even saw the juices. I was so wet!” Who was she talking about? Who saw her? He quietly pushed the door open a couple more inches and saw thighs and bare ass on the toilet. He could just see her pussy, right below her flat tummy, not a hair on it (some of his friends already had hairs on their dicks – so why doesn’t Erin? She’s 4 years older). She had two fingers rubbing up and down on her pussy, and her hips were slowly moving back and forth on the toilet seat. “Just thinking about it now Sherri, I’m playing with my pussy. It’s really wet again. I so want to lose my cherry. I would love for Todd to do it…” Todd! Could it be Todd Baker? He’s a senior in high school, linebacker on the football team! He’s 18 years old! Mitch’s dick had swelled watching his sister touch her pussy and listening to her talk about Todd. “I can’t believe how tight his body is and those muscles! I wonder how big his dick is?” Silence. “You did? Your dad’s? Oh my god, I love your dad, he is so sexy for an older guy! What did it look like?” Mitch pushed the door open a bit more, but this time it squeaked. He froze, but Erin heard it, and looked over. “Mitch! What the fuck!!” Mitch bolted back into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. His dick had gone soft as he thought of the trouble he would be in. He couldn’t get the image of his sister out of his head. Her tan skin, thin thighs, and red pussy lips. He wondered what her boobs looked like. They were small, way smaller than her friend Sherri’s. He started thinking about what her nipples must look like— Bang! Bang! Fists on his door. “Mitch, open the door! NOW!”

“Mitch! I said you cannot touch me!” He put his hands down, and she went back to swirling his nipples with her tongue. Looking down, she said, “I see from your dick that you are really enjoying this. Do you have any questions?” “Why does it feel so good? What is happening to my dick? It feels really funny and kinda hurts, but feels good at the same time!” “Everybody loves being touched,” she said. “Your body is enjoying the attention I’m giving it. Let’s continue with our education session.” Her formality made Mitch smile. He also smelled something strange in the air, but couldn’t place it. She knelt down before him and started to undo his baseball pants. Startled, he stepped back. “You’re going to see my thi– I mean, my dick. I can’t let you see that!” “Okay,” she said and got up. “I’ll see you at dinner then.” “No wait, I guess it’s ok. Please don’t stop. I’m just a little scared.” he said. She walked over to him and put her hands on his shoulders. “Listen Mitch,” she said, all serious. “I know we fight a lot. All brothers and sisters do. But when push comes to shove, I really do love you. I’ll protect you when anybody picks on you, and I’ll take care of you if you need me to. You’re my baby brother. I’ve always thought you were adorable, since you were a little baby. I used to play with your little wee wee. That’s what we called it. Once when you were 3, and mom wasn’t looking, I licked it. Anyway, that’s another story. The point is, I’m not going to hurt you. Try to not be scared. Everybody goes through this when they first learn stuff.” “How do you know so much about all this?” he asked. “The internet! Dork. Me and Sherri have seen lots of stuff. Plus Unc—” she stopped herself. “Well, the internet is where I learned just about everything.” With that, she gave him a hug, and he felt her bare boobs against his upper chest. His dick was like steel now, and he felt dizzy. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and went back down to her knees. Picking up where she left off, she slowly inched his tight baseball pants down, first one side, then the other, back and forth. They came down to his ankles finally, and he stood there with his underwear tightly covering his hard dick. She looked up into his eyes as she hooked her fingers under the waistband and slowly pulled down. When they were lowered, his little dick sprung back up and slapped against his belly. She sat back on her heels and just stared at it. He picked up a sense of awe on her part. Had she ever seen one? What happened between her and….. Uncle Ivan? He didn’t dare break the spell of the moment by asking any questions. “This here is your dick,” she said without touching him. “Or your cock. I like the word dick. Cock is gross and reminds me of roosters. That’s stupid. I don’t know many other names for it, but I guess there are a bunch. Below your dick are your balls.” Here she paused for a long moment. It was like she was willing up the courage to continue. “I’m going to touch you now,” she said, and simultaneously slid one hand into her own skirt while grasping his tiny dick with thumb and forefinger. She started rubbing her pussy, just like she did in the bathroom. “You’re small now, but don’t worry, you’ll grow bigger when you’re older.” Mitch barely heard this, the effect of her fingers on his dick were overwhelming. His eyes rolled back into the back of his head and he started to moan loudly. “Quiet!” she said. “You don’t want Mom walking in on us!” He somehow got his vocals under control but was still breathing unsteadily and hard. His voice emitted the occasional grunt, as though he were the quietest Santa Claus in the world “ho…. uh… ho…” “Erin.” he said shakily. “What…. about…. you?” Erin didn’t appear to hear him, her eyes so focused on his little 4 inch dick. “Erin?”

Erin said, “Mitch, watch your hands, remember you can’t tou– Ohhhh fuuuuuck…” He didn’t know why she stopped speaking, but looking down he saw her grab his hand and pull it onto her wet leaking pussy, her own hand covering his and holding it tightly against her mound. This drove Mitch to the stratosphere, and seemed to have the same effect on her, as he watched her entire body tense up. Her grip on his dick tightened and he somehow knew he was passing a threshold never before experienced. A gutteral groan came from Erins body and his at the same time. She found two of his fingers and shoved them into her pussy while pressing down his hand onto her mound, almost to the point of causing him pain, if he weren’t so focused on his own feelings. This was the “orgasm” she mentioned, he knew it had to be. His entire body went stiff and started to shudder as his eyes squeezed tight. Together brother and sister shook as one as his hand caused jolts to her pussy, which caused her jerking hand to jolt on his cock and the cycle continued. After what seemed like a near death experience, they both exhaled loudly and collapsed forward, each forehead hitting it’s siblings shoulder. Panting heavily, they were silent. Each had a hand on the other’s genitals still, and each subtle movement they made caused the other to experience another jolt. Finally she looked at his eyes and said, “Just as I thought. No cum.”

“Cum?” he said? “Another time, baby bro. We’ll talk about that another time. Are you hungry? Cuz mom’s calling for us.” “Starving,” he said. “Fucking starving.”

#incest fiction

0 notes