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File 148142010827.jpg - (151.69KB, 850x680, My favorite season is Autumn.jpg) [iqdb]

Here there be skilled writers!
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Quality shitpost.
File 148315165949.png - (758.91KB, 1050x800, I need a hat.png) [iqdb]
It's always cold on Nameless Hill.

The icy wind howls over the bare hilltop with nothing to stop it. I tug my scarf tighter and blow warm air into my mittens in an effort to stop shivering. But standing with my back to the village, I can imagine that I'm all alone, the last living creature in a world covered in beautiful, toxic dust...

...on second thoughts, it's just really, really cold. I hunch my shoulders, grit my teeth to stop them chattering, and stomp off toward the mountain.

The trees at the base of the mountain are all bare, twisted skeletons of dead wood clawing at the sky. The Kagiyama shrine is forlorn and empty, its once-noisy residents long since departed. And once I've passed all that, and the path starts to climb up the steep slopes of the mountain itself, the wind returns with a fury. I stick to the leeward side of every tree and boulder I can find. It's not much, but it's still better than flying.

"Halt! You are trespassing on tengu grounds! State your business or begone!"

I wonder if wolf tengu have fur under their clothes? The cold doesn't seem to be bothering them. Then again, their clothes are bulky enough they probably don't need it.

That's what I need. Better clothes.

The grumpy guards repeat their warning. I scowl, or try to, and wordlessly brandish the slip of paper I got from Seija. The guards eye the paper warily, then me. Then they glance at each other, nod once, and leave me be.
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File 148317265990.png - (88.69KB, 236x230, it started with a question what mermaids do in win.png) [iqdb]
The languor of the lakebed is tranquilizing this time of year. The chill in the water would cool a surface-dweller to the bone. For those that reside in the lake, it is a none-so-subtle reminder to retreat to the depths and seek the safety of the nooks and crannies that are etched into the waterlogged surface. And, for those that are too bold, or too belligerent, to heed the numbing kiss of a deep-winter frost, then the sheet of ice etched upon the surface calms the sometimes-torpid waters and separates the water from the air.

The land-dwellers who so often frequent the shores of the lake in warmer times have long since vacated, save for the odd, confused few that revel on the frozen ice. And, those that swim without a dream of touching the skies are denied even that dark and dreary vision that typically clings to the horizon when snow visits. Ice covers the lake and, save for the peculiar few, the result is a peace oft missed in the summer months.

And so is found, deep beneath the ice sheet and the water surface, a young youkai, her fins idly flapping as she rests on the rocks of the lakebed. Scattered about her dark abode are small containers, filled to the brim with stones polished to a shine. The light that trickles down to this section of the lakebed is weak this time of year, and the normally sparkling piles of stone have lost most of their luster.

The youkai, a mermaid, shows just as much life as her tail lazily whips back and forth as she rests on the muddy bottom. The underwater weeds drift back and forth, a few sweetish slipping in and out of the folds that drift about. She eyes them for a little while, wondering if it is even worth the while to expend the effort to catch the little fish. The chase would produce quite the distraction caused by the endless winter days and nights. They quickly vanish beyond the confines that define her home, and she goes back and closes her eyes and instead listens to the soft, wiggling chorus of the distant schools.

Carp slowly float near the surface while loaches lurk in thrushes and trout putter alongside. On the bottom, further down than the mermaid's dimly-lit home, are the catfish and snails that
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All things not lewd go here! Rules at >>/gensokyo/14305
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File 147407032549.jpg - (231.67KB, 700x700, 36495286911a1ee71042741d7d59a07619ffbb78.jpg) [iqdb]
“I hate winter.”

A chill spreads through my heavy clothes. The crunching of snow underneath me echoes in the forest as evening gives way to night. Snow seems floats down from the moonless sky without end onto the bare branches of the forest trees. I didn't expect the meeting to go on so long, and in the end it just turned into a party. I'm not against a good party, but if I had known I would have taken a scarf. I wave goodbye to the mermaid as I leave the lake. How can she stand living in the lake at this time of year? It's hard to believe she doesn't turn into an ice cube. I shake myself out of my thoughts with a shiver. The snow is light, and the cold is bearable enough to make it home without stopping at the village. I haven't visited the village since the incident last Autumn. I didn't cause as much of a ruckus as certain youkai. The incident's events have blown over, but I'm not in the mood to visit such a place tonight. I'm still considered a youkai by some, at least half of one. Yet, in the darkness of the new moon I'm just another human.

It's not lonely walking down the snow covered path by myself. I've gotten used to walking in silence. This would almost be tranquil, if it weren't for the cold. In moments like these it's easy to get lost in my thoughts, take my mind off the weather. At least there are less people getting lost in the forest. Most people have enough common sense to stay away from somewhere known to lead people astray this time of year. Which means I can hole up at home without worrying about someone freezing to death lost amidst the bamboo. As the forest trees become sparse my train of thought is knocked away with a yelp by a mouthful of snow. I groan in pain, my foot snagged on a tree root covered in snow.

I suck in air through my teeth, but it just makes my mouth feel colder. I don't want to get up right now, but freezing isn't something I planned on doing tonight. I lift my head up to see a lowered hand. People don't travel this path often, it's surprising to see someone out here so late at night.

A woman in a white winter coat outstretches
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“Are you Letty Whiterock?” asked the man with the shovel.

“I am,” said Letty Whiterock.

And then he beat her with a shovel.
Wrong thread, pal. This is an old contest.

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This is how it will begin. We are a creature of sin.
This girl before us has no twin. This battle before us is one we certainly will win.

This monster leaves us in the dust. Were we metal, we would rust.
As she walks, she doesn't once glance back. She even stole our mid day snack.

Tears drip. Control does slip.

So this is her? She seems to speak only in grr.
Ahh well, playing may be fine. That will leave enough time to dine.

Such a potent power. Like under a falling tower.
Strongest generation yet. You will enjoy her later, match set.

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Warning one: This short scene is high in sexual content and low in everything else. In fact, I wasn't sure if I should post it here or /at/. It has no actual sex though, so I'm putting it here.

Warning two: It went unproofed and with zero quality control or external input because it's embarrassing to ask people to proofread what is essentially porn.

If those factors don't dissuade you, read on.


She has her frown turned to me, as usual. She insists on giving me this expression no matter how much I pamper her, but that's alright: Her pouting lips are lovable too.

She's laying on the bed, her defiant eyes directly contradicting her vulnerable position. She's on her back, fiddling with her own hands like a nervous teenager might. Her messy blonde hair is as uncared for as ever. I can clearly see the rough tips where she snipped at it carelessly with dull scissors. She deemed it bothersome when long, and it fails to cover her long, pointy ears either way.
Her scarf is nowhere to be seen. Her dress is half undone, revealing an undershirt made of the black, skintight shiny material she usually wears. By itself, it does little to protect her modesty, revealing the curve of her breasts clearly, but she's still mostly covered by the thicker fabric of the dress. The puffy detached sleeves she insists on wearing have their strings undone, as if inviting me to pull them off. She seems to think the wrists are particularly sensual parts of the body, for reasons that elude me.
The skirt of the dress is also in a strange sort of very deliberate-seeming disarray, the web of red string along the hem giving me a tantalizing view of just the right measure of her thighs. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she'd done it on purpose.

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File 147449285573.jpg - (556.62KB, 759x600, 95d467f1f24c7a914dfd94d04578461a.jpg) [iqdb]
It was the witching hour.

There wasn’t a lot of light. Oil had to be conserved and anyway she was used to this much. The scratch of feather on paper drowned out the faint night sounds from outside, and if it hadn’t, it wouldn’t have mattered.

Her cheek nearly brushed the desk, the candle night-blinded her, the wooden chair, set up in a poor position, bruised her behind. She didn’t notice. She could no longer even register the oppressive sulfuric odours of alchemy that suffused her home and workshop. She was past caring about the sea of often dangerous junk that covered every available surface – except for her working desk, of course, which was exactly as clean and clutter-free as if it’d just been magicked into existence that very moment. Her eyes were baggy, but burning with a brighter light than you’d be likely to find at any other moment for this particular witch. She wrote and drew feverishly, covering each pristine page of a thick blank book with diagrams, tables and sketches at a hand-cramping pace. Her long hair was limp and oily. She hadn’t changed from her practical, thick, worn set of gathering overalls, covered with layers and layers of dirt.
Underneath, she was literally running on fumes, having augmented her concentration and stamina several steps beyond exhaustion through alchemical means. If it had been possible for her focus to wander, she might think of Reimu’s mothering, advising her against precisely this sort of overwork. That moment, however, her pupils were dilated, her heart pumping hard enough to put her through a marathon, her mind operating beyond consciousness. The black lines raced across the pages: size, colour, consistency, texture, position, reactivity to light, air, all painstakingly written down over many tries. But this was it. It was the culmination of nine days of nonstop research, gathering, reading, searching with inhuman single-mindedness, with no food and no real breaks. The last leg.

Her sample this time was a thumbnail-sized frog, coloured striking iridescent blue. It sat splayed on its back, neatly vivisected with its pinkish-purple insides in plain sight. Its organs, the biggest no larger than a gr
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Mima you dick. Your cute student is crying like two feet away from you. Wake up and get a clue.
2000 years later, but I have to say that I really enjoy your writing isolex. Hope to see more from you.

And mima, please come back. We all miss you, expecially your student. Really.

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This is where the other Guardians and some important individuals get their part of their story.

Story will be posted soon.

Latest main thread the time of posting is at: >>underground/14411

Lewd stuff goes to: >>at/36385
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File 147393823160.png - (639.29KB, 900x737, __reisen_udongein_inaba_forbidden_scrollery_and_to.png) [iqdb]
Living in Eientei as a medic-in-training doesn't mean that you're limited to simply being a student there - since you are a Guardian, you have plenty of lessons and practical tests in between patrols with rabbits along the way. You need to be prepared at all times, since you may have to escort sick villagers to Eientei in the middle of the night.

Other times it's a simple escort mission involving Reisen and medicine delivery, like what you are doing for today.

"Alright, Erin. For today, you'll help Reisen sell medicine at the village. Today's going to be a busy day with this long list, so try your best and lend Reisen a hand, will you?"

"Got it."

"We'll do our best!" She exclaims, perhaps a little more chipper than usual.

You and Reisen hop off the verandah and put your shoes on.

"We'll be off now!" Reisen call out, waving to Kaguya and Eirin.

"Have a good trip!"
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>cross-board linking

You need a forward slash before the board name as well as after.

Latest main thread the time of posting is at: >>/underground/14411

Lewd stuff goes to: >>/at/36385
No wonder I feel I am missing something. Thanks for the tip.

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The house remained still against the soft wind. For centuries, this house has always protected itself and it's inhabitants from the changing forces that assault it. But what it couldn't withstand was the passage of time.

The yellow hair of a matured woman shimmers in the bright sun. Her figure was standing against the wind, nine tails fluttering in it's embrace. It could be said she is admiring the scenery that lay before her - or perhaps contemplating about her duties. This woman's name is Ran Yakumo. She is a shikigami of the highest caliber. She has many responsibilities she fulfills with perfect efficiency for a mistress who seemed like she was never there. She has a shikigami all of her own, a cat named Chen. Truly, she is the epitome of maturity, diligence, and responsibility.

She went back into the house and began walking to her room, taking a glance at her mistress's room. No one was there, only empty sheets and covers.

"I guess Mistress Yukari decided to head out with Yuyuko for the day," Ran sighs, her voice hanging heavy.

Ran handles all duties that have been passed down to her. She works nonstop to get them done, trying to finish each task to the best of her ability. Even if she doesn't sleep, she will continue to work until everything is complete.

She went back to her room and sat down at a single desk. Today was a dispute between Koishi and Hata no Kokoro that needed to be mediated. She put on her half-moon glasses and read the report. Those glasses didn't do well to hide the bags under her eyes, and the urge to sleep was evident. Even so, she made no effort to skim it instead reading the report fully. She let out a heavy sigh once again, and leaned back against the chair. A brief silence settled in before a high-pitched voice rang. Ran's ears twitched as they registered the sound's owner. She got up, headed to the door and opened it. Standing there was a small figure with a red dress and cat tails.

“Good afternoon, Lady Ran!” she cheerfully greeted.

“Good afternoon, Chen,” Ran replied, letting off a sweet smile.
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Annor walked down the stairs of the granite-gray polished shrine. The downward steps were a long and toiling path, crumbling underneath the man's feet. Years of negligence had ground the paved stone to little more than a rubbled slope.

Strange, the man mused, the steps are so weathered for such a quaint shrine.

He quickened his pace, praying he would make it to the forest before the rain fell. The woods would not give much cover, but they were certainly better than the alternative.

His wishes did nothing to stop the downpour. His shoulders, however, remained decidedly dry.

“Evening, mister.” A young girl who could have been no older than twenty-five twirled her purple parasol in the rain. Her teal hair was reminiscent of the noon sky on a clear day, her azure eyes even more so. “You shouldn't be out here so late in the day. A youkai might come and eat you up, no?”

“I should say the same to you. I've passed through this road far more than you'd know.” Curious was Annor, looking into the deep maroon eyes of the young girl. Or were they crimson?

“You're right. However...” The girl giggled, delighted by no fathomable cause. “You have only the clothes on your back. I have an umbrella.”

“Even if you had no such thing, I wouldn't mind.” The man stared off into the forest. Shadows loomed precariously behind the woods. “The youkai here are dangerous. I'd feel better in a company of two.”
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A nice and sweet short. Shorts like this have a cozy feel to them.
File 147255191170.jpg - (1.90MB, 2148x3041, boo.jpg) [iqdb]
That was beautiful. Thank you.
Bittersweet, yet so heartwarming...

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I wrote this short out of annoyance with a certain /jp/sie and his inexplicable and oft-voiced obsession. After its posting in the relevant place met no reply, I thought why not post it here as well.

Hope you enjoy it, Dead-HP.
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File 147009529491.png - (275.08KB, 600x600, __sekibanki_touhou_drawn_by_porupu__5a99f0ca05e24a.png) [iqdb]
Sorry, mate, but no dice. I was provoked into writing the first short, and goaded into the second one, and while I do provoke easily, that's as far as this line goes. There are other things waiting my time and pen. Keyboard. Whichever. And they've waited long.
My only regret is this flowered affection for dullahans under willows. Who's going to name Benben their favourite DDC now?
That's funny. Always fancied myself more of an "on the nose" sort of wordsmith.
That was good.

Cant really offer much else.
It's fine. I'm just glad people are appreciating the Banki. Cheers, bossu.

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Winter had come to Gensoukyou, that time of year when snow turned the verdant valley into Whiterock's Wonderland. Those who thrived in the cold rejoiced, and those who did not came up with ever more feeble excuses to remain indoors.

Huddled in a clearing at the foot of Youkai Mountain lay the home of two out-of-season goddesses, who were presently engaged in the time-honoured tradition of lounging under the kotatsu and eating baked sweet potatoes.

"This is the life," Aki Minoriko declared, mouth half full of sweet potato. "There's just something about winter that makes you feel so cozy."

"Speak for yourself. The only thing winter makes me feel is useless," Aki Shizuha replied, face glum and chin resting on the table.

"Don't be like that! We've done our bit for the year, so now's out chance to relax until next year!" Minoriko took another bite of her food and swallowed before continuing. "We're lucky we only have to work three months of the year, you know. Think of all the humans who have to keep working through this."

Shizuha opened her mouth to reply, but whatever she had to say was lost in the sound of the door being thrown open and a great, bearded figure clad in red trimmed with white planting two mighty boots in the room.

"Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas!"

Minoriko turned her head to avoid showering her sister with hot tea. "Puwaaah! Hina!? Why on Earth are you wearing a beard!?"
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I don't care that I'm too late for a Christmas story, that was really good!

The underrated characters really are the best. Shame no Mystia though, but I can appreciate the best umbrella youkai around.
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White Day special number one of two. Consider them failure stories because I wanted to write for Valentine's Day. So screw it. Doing it now and today.


The end of winter. There’s nothing too different: The grass is a colder green, the trees move with the wind, and Lady Remilia complains about the cold. Sakuya checks in on me from time to time like every other season, at the same time every day. Whew. I don’t particularly mind, but it does hurt when she prods me with one to twelve knives. Or countless more.

“So you won’t train with me today, Meiling?”

Three knives clink against each other.

My eyes stop drooping. Sakuya holds three knives between her fingers, arms crossed and poised to strike. It’s better to assume so. Looks like I was drifting asleep. Since I’ve lost any time to rub my eyes or stretch my limbs, I speak before Sakuya becomes angry.

“It is a nice day to train, isn’t it? It’d be nice if it doesn’t get any colder.”

Sakuya hums in approval. “As long as you understand. I have much to do to keep Milady from complaining any more than she is already.”
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The flat of my tongue licks the roof of my mouth. The meat didn't actually melt under my teeth back then, but I now had a craving for dragon that probably wouldn't be fulfilled. My method of cooking that kind of meat leaves it chewy. But it's still tender enough that it doesn't make your mouth sore. Mudo also had a way with seasonings that leaves the spice lingering in your mouth. It wasn't a hot spice, but a herbal spice that rises into your nose.

The dreams are becoming more vivid.

“So,” Lady Patchouli peers over her book at me across her table, “these are the books that might interest you the most.”

“Thank you, Lady Patchouli.” I take the book from Koakuma, who closes her eyes and smiles as she hands me several books. The pile isn't heavy, though there are easily over five hundred pages together.

“Seven hundred thirty three pages.” Lady Patchouli turns a page. “Of which, twenty eight are most relevant to your condition. If you'd like, I can have Koakuma show you.”

“Who is showing something here?”

I turn my head behind me as much as I can. “Milady Remilia! Excuse me for using the library in my spare time.” The words come as naturally as breathing.

“It's fine.” Lady Remilia sits to the left of Lady Patchouli. “The library is a place where everyone comes to learn. What they learn is their own business,” She eyes the books in my arms, “so as I'm a good mistress, I don't meddle in personal affairs.”
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Magnificent. A really well written, bittersweet story, thank you for writing this.
That's okay... I just wanted to wash my eyes from the inside anyway...

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