Categories > Games > Tales of Symphonia
Mismatched
1 reviewAfter a hard day's work, there's nothing Yuan wants more than to come home to his lovely wife. Fate is not so kind...
2Funny
Slightly AU-ish, this was written for a friend on a challenge. A rather cracky challenge at that.
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After a hard day at work, there was nothing that Yuan wanted more than to come home to his wife. Time had passed since the defeat of Mithos, and things were settling down for the Renegades. Now, all they did was keep things in order and support the newly-formed government of Symphonia, as the world was called.
Too bad Botta had called in sick that day. Odd. He never called in sick. Yuan really could have used his help in getting the PA system working again. The paperwork had been lost to it, and Yuan could not, for the life of him, remember anything about how it had worked. A good man, that Botta.
So, as he opened the front door to his modest little white, two story house with a picket fence and perfectly manicured lawn, it struck him as odd that there were no aromas of cooking food. Martel usually had dinner in the works when he arrived home. She was always in that absolutely sexy red apron, with a nice, short skirt and not much else, and after dinner he would whisk her off to their bedroom to enjoy the pleasures of marriage.
However, on this particular day... there was no sign of her. In fact, the usually neat and tidy house was in a general state of disarray. Yuan stooped down to pick up... a shirt? A shirt that had been laying in the middle of the floor, no less.
How odd. Perhaps Martel had decided to make good on her claim that she would eventually get a dog, and it had mussed the house into this state. But, she would have told him, wouldn't she? Maybe even asked him to pick it out with her. His mind went off on its own, completely-unrelated-to-the-shirt, tangent concerning dogs at this point.
Wait.
He didn't own a shirt like that.
He looked about, almost looking for the owner when he heard a squeak.
Actually, he realized that there had been a lot of squeaks, but he hadn't really been paying attention to them.
"What in heaven's name?" was all he could come up with.
Following the sound of the squeaking, which was getting louder and quicker, he reached the door to his and Martel's room. For a split second, he hesitated. He didn't know if he wanted to know what was behind that door. His Martel would most certainly never... would she?
In one, fluid and quick motion, he flung open the door to find...
His wife and his second in command in the throes of passion?!
At that point, his mind, he would later say, died. Because, the first words out of his mouth, after the general looks of shock and horror all around, were "Mind if I join in?"
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After a hard day at work, there was nothing that Yuan wanted more than to come home to his wife. Time had passed since the defeat of Mithos, and things were settling down for the Renegades. Now, all they did was keep things in order and support the newly-formed government of Symphonia, as the world was called.
Too bad Botta had called in sick that day. Odd. He never called in sick. Yuan really could have used his help in getting the PA system working again. The paperwork had been lost to it, and Yuan could not, for the life of him, remember anything about how it had worked. A good man, that Botta.
So, as he opened the front door to his modest little white, two story house with a picket fence and perfectly manicured lawn, it struck him as odd that there were no aromas of cooking food. Martel usually had dinner in the works when he arrived home. She was always in that absolutely sexy red apron, with a nice, short skirt and not much else, and after dinner he would whisk her off to their bedroom to enjoy the pleasures of marriage.
However, on this particular day... there was no sign of her. In fact, the usually neat and tidy house was in a general state of disarray. Yuan stooped down to pick up... a shirt? A shirt that had been laying in the middle of the floor, no less.
How odd. Perhaps Martel had decided to make good on her claim that she would eventually get a dog, and it had mussed the house into this state. But, she would have told him, wouldn't she? Maybe even asked him to pick it out with her. His mind went off on its own, completely-unrelated-to-the-shirt, tangent concerning dogs at this point.
Wait.
He didn't own a shirt like that.
He looked about, almost looking for the owner when he heard a squeak.
Actually, he realized that there had been a lot of squeaks, but he hadn't really been paying attention to them.
"What in heaven's name?" was all he could come up with.
Following the sound of the squeaking, which was getting louder and quicker, he reached the door to his and Martel's room. For a split second, he hesitated. He didn't know if he wanted to know what was behind that door. His Martel would most certainly never... would she?
In one, fluid and quick motion, he flung open the door to find...
His wife and his second in command in the throes of passion?!
At that point, his mind, he would later say, died. Because, the first words out of his mouth, after the general looks of shock and horror all around, were "Mind if I join in?"
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