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738 No. 738 hide watch expand quickreply
A little swish was all the noise that Ran's entry into the Yakumo household made, clutching a large paper folder under her arm. It was banged up, scratched and had many patches of paint, ink, general dirt and what appeared to be oil or fat on it. As Ran opened the folder and took out the sheets inside it one could see that the paper was pristine and fresh, staggeringly so in contrast.

"Thank you, Ran." said her master in her usual lofty tone. "Please hand me his notes." Ran did so. "You may sit." Ran did so.

Yukari Yakumo began reading. And slowly, a smile spread over her face.
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>> No. 780
Still here for Q&A.
>> No. 784
Sounds like SCP bullshit or something. No good.
>> No. 795
SCP was about the last thing I was thinking of when I wrote this, I tried to make it sound like a philosopher's analysis mixed with some scientist's observations. I hate the SCP archive, it's a clusterfuck of writefaggotry.

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759 No. 759 hide watch expand quickreply
“Aww… there, there, Aya, I’ll get you another! Just hold on!”

She dashed back into the dilapidated cottage, a lone structure amongst a clearing full of piles of ash and ruins. Its roof is two different colors, hastily repaired with irregular pieces of wood. The windows have long since been boarded over. The entire dwelling has a slight lean, having gone far too long without skilled hands to tend to it.

Inside, she rummages through carefully organized boxes and chests and storage containers of all types, all showing their age. The air inside holds heavy, long since deprived of anything new. Three beds adjourn the home. Two lay perfectly made, covered in a layer of dust. By the window, where the sun used to shine in on early mornings, sits a typewriter. Its mechanisms rusted with age, it still holds a sheet, as if it had been prepared for writing and simply abandoned, so long ago.

She finds what she is looking for: Packaged bread, long since past its usefulness as a foodstuff for people.

She tears into the package, halfway out the door as she does. She greets her dear friends, quickly dispensing it.

“There, there. Isn’t that what you wanted? Eat up.”

So she softly coos, gently placing the rest of the food down. Lavishing her friends with compliments.

“My, Aya. You’re eating so much today. You’ll run me out of house if you keep this up!”
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>> No. 765
I got the idea for this short in a most peculiar and cliché way. I was headed across campus to the dining hall to get my dinner and heard a squawk. I looked up to see a single crow, seated upon the branches of a dead tree. Well, that became one thing that I won’t spoil for those reading this on the board view, and the image for part 4, which I stumbled upon, solidified the concept.

Props to >>/gensokyo/10414 who subconsciously set me towards doing this short. I had actually started writing that night on a different short, but my choice of music was pumping me up, and that was quite not the purpose of that particular short. Browsing THP, saw that, remembered this outline from a few months ago. Finally did it.

As a courtesy, I link my outline. I have removed three lines that I deemed extreme, unnecessary, and detracting.

Please enjoy.
>> No. 766
Ah. So that's why you were asking.

Neat story, Treia. Good job on that healing there at the end, if my heart wasn't a cracked lump of carbon it might have stirred.
>> No. 767
I really, really hate post-apocalypse stories. Especially if it's after the end of a world I especially like.
That said...this was all right. Expected more, but eh. Ending was nice, I guess.

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458 No. 458 hide watch expand quickreply
Disclaimer/warning/author’s notes: this story is a tie-in Tainted Bonds, on /th/. It presents a new Gensokyo after it receives an influx of a few hundred high level adventurers from a plane that more or less runs on D&D 3.5 mechanics. If you’re looking for a “vanilla” Gensokyo, then this may not be the story for you.

This story is meant to explore a side character that Sai will soon be meeting, and also to get some ideas and history about my new, changed Gensokyo out into prose, instead of mere notes. Also, to satisfy my burning desire to write when I still want to keep votes open on Tainted Bonds.

This story is in /shorts/ because I don’t intend for there to be any votes; Gand’s story is already “established”. Don’t worry about losing the opportunity to vote in Sai’s story; that’ll still be up to the will of Anon.

There is also (intentionally) far less “neckbearding” planned in this story, for those of you who hated that about Tainted Bonds.

Feel free to comment, discuss, ask me questions, or make suggestions in this thread, so long as you keep the shitstorms out.

Oh, and most importantly: have fun.


Laughter isn’t always a sound of joy. Sometimes it’s the sound of displacement, that halting chuckle you let out when you’re not sure if you’re the butt of the joke. Sometimes it’s the sound of fear, puffing yourself up and out to deny that you’re scared. Sometimes it’s the sound of mockery, a noble’s laugh of derision at some disgusting sight, like you once heard from the Scarlet Devil as she took a rare tour of the village.
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>> No. 710
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Spoiler'd just in case people don't want to be spoiled just yet. Behold my notes, converted from bullets into a pseudo-narrative with some bare descriptive details.

Where we last left Gand, he was standing in the forest, clutching a mangled-but-triaged arm, staring stupidly after a pair of strangely beautiful (and familiar) girls.

The first thing he does is be a good boy and follow their last plea to run back to Alice's house and lock himself in. But the house is devoid of any of the homely furnishings he remembers. There's nothing left but the ring of wards; it's been abandoned, and recently.

Hearing the sounds of battle far away, he can't help but feel nervous. The sounds end after several long, agonized screams - of not some monster, but those of the two girls.

Realizing at this point that he can't just remain idle after that, he clenches his teeth, fighting through blood loss and shock to leave the house once more. He has to grab one of Alice's wards to use as a walking stick to keep himself steady in the dark.

But he doesn't run away from the screams. In his state, he'd be food for any youkai that finds him while he tries to make it back to town. No, he moves towards them; it's his greatest chance of survival.

His vision blurs while his hearing degrades to nothing more than a high pitched whine; his limbs numb and he can barely keep his footing. Yet eventually he comes across an apparent warzone: trees splintered in all sorts of ways, craters in the ground, and so on. A giant skeleton, perhaps some fifty or sixty feet tall, is busying itself with chewing upon an armored leg, paying attention to that bit of meat to the exclusion of all else - the flesh and blood disappears into a dark vortex in the middle of its ribcage.

Its former owner rocks gently back and forth some hundred feet away in a small hollow in the ground desperately applying direct pressure at the stump while her companion desperately tries to tourniquet the injury with a ragged piece of cl
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>> No. 711
You might wanna get rid of all those spoilers, because you've already got 'SPOILED MODE' in the title, and everyone who views this thread I would hope have read the Tainted Bonds thread.
>> No. 720
Actually, I hadn't read the post in the Tainted Bonds thread before seeing this, because I happened to flip through /shorts/ before looking in /general/.
Although I don't really mind spoilers in general so it's kind of a moot point in my case.
Still, the spoilers are a good thing just in case.

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607 No. 607 hide watch expand quickreply
So, bored, sitting around, nothing to do. Wanted to write something, anything really, so I wrote this.

I apologize for the really bad pun.


The fields stirred.

From the tall greenery and flowering plants, a figure rose out. Keeping low to remain hidden, it rushed urgently towards the banks. The figure knew that despite the tranquil air surrounding it, it was in grave danger the longer it remained here. And it had waited nearly 1000 years for this. Reaching the edge of the murky waters, the figure stood, thought, and leapt with all its might.

Not into the waters.

It leapt over the waters.
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>> No. 613
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Traveling across the river, neither of the two spoke. It was awkward for the ferryman; she was used to at least some sort of idle chat here and there. As for the Yama, she sat looking out into the mist. There seemed to be something on her mind, but Komachi didn’t ask. After seeing how tense Eiki was, she figured it was best for the Yama to tell her when she was ready. Several minutes passed by before Eiki finally spoke.

“We’ve got an escaped spirit.”

Komachi blinked for a few seconds, dumbfounded. Nothing that tried to cross the river EVER made it to the other side. Not without a shinigami ferrying them across anyway.

“How… exactly did they cross the Sanzu?”

Eiki remained quiet, probably wondering the same thing as Komachi. There wasn’t any apparent way to cross the Sanzu River alone. It seemed unbelievable to the both of them. Another question quickly formed in Komachi’s head after that.

“Uh, who… who is it that escaped?”

Again, Eiki was silent, though after a few moments she replied back.
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>> No. 698

Oh hai Youki. Glad to see you bust out.
>> No. 701
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The path of destruction led deep into the woods. Without end, the shinigami and Yama met splintered trees and torn earth. And despite their haste, the pair felt as though they had gone in circles.

The leading member was the shinigami. With the power of distance manipulation, her strides seemed to reach impossibly far as she began to separate from her partner. Eiki, despite her best efforts, could not hope to match the speed at which the ferryman moved. In an attempt to keep the pair together, the Yama called out urgently to the shinigami who was starting to disappear into the foliage.

“Komachi, slow down!”

The Yama’s words fell on deaf ears though. Komachi continued on without her at a furious pace. In a matter of seconds, the shinigami had vanished from Eiki’s view. Seeing the ‘slacker’ in such a hurry surprised the Yama. There was nothing the hell judge could think of that would possibly motivate Komachi to actually RUN.

Not as in casual jogging.

An all-out sprint.

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566 No. 566 hide watch expand quickreply
I woke up today with a strange sense of foreboding. It was as if a pit had formed in my empty stomach, a chain around my ankle, tied to the world.

I could not tell what was wrong. I sampled the fresh morning air, drank from the spring, and prepared the traditional breakfast. I thought, surely, the incident would present itself.

It was not until I ate away at my rice crackers that I noticed. In idle thought, I wondered aloud.


Yet she did not come.

She always comes.

I quite forget what I did do in my panic. By the time I had gotten a hold of myself, I had on my outfit, my ying-yang orbs tucked securely in the waist pockets. My breakfast was ruined, it appears I had flipped the table at some point in my haste. I quickly righted it, although that did not make my breakfast any cleaner. It went to the birds, who happily ate at it, oblivious to my anxiety.

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>> No. 579

"You should say Gensokyo instead, because Gensokyo is wonderful and it should bring a smile to your lips!"
(Totally didn't just make this up right now)
>> No. 596
clingy reimu is clingy~
>> No. 697
not bad fluff.

Keep writing then

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597 No. 597 hide watch expand quickreply
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>> No. 644

Life is raping me, vividly. Also, I have always experimented with wordplay, so thank you for your opinion on the dialogue, but I and my proofreader found it sufficiently intricate and fun. I do hope to finish this within a few days, and write something more in line with my usual descriptory paragraphs complete with violence and guns and maybe a Sanae or two, depending on how much I hate myself. Might be playing phone tag for the next few days, too, so there's that.

But enough about me. If you can elaborate on why you disliked the dialogue I'll see what I can do in this next part. To be clearer, or perhaps guide you, do you simply find their characterizations lousy (Good news! More touhous incoming!), or perhaps you do not fancy their chemistry. Option C, of your own choosing, is always valid.
>> No. 667
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“Do you think she’ll mind that we took all her food?”

The more sensible of the two openly questions

“Or these backpacks, you mean?”

Master replies, seeming to relish the idea of stealing even more things.

“Well… yes.”


“So what do you think a shrine maiden uses backpacks and preserved food for?”

“Camping, of course!”
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>> No. 668
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The duo arrived (mostly) unscathed in front of a towering wooden wall, extending in both directions as far as the eye could see, while still maintaining an impressive 30 feet into the air. A small door was built into the wall directly ahead of them.

“Aha! Civilization!”

Master seemed proud of himself as he lowered the poor assistant off his shoulders, who was spitting out bits of cicada from her mouth and removing them from her hair the entire time.

“You just ran in the opposite direction of the swarm…”

“No, I found them. Just like that mickey-mouse character found her thing. Divination!”

“I thought we debunked that one-”

“Nonsense. Look, we’re obviously in an alternate dimension. We may have disproved all existing paranormal theories in our dimension, earth-dimension-of-the-humans-of-sol trademark-pending, but this is new ground! Who knows! I might have gained telekinetic powers! Behold, as I rend the door from its wooden frame!”

He stormed up to the door, sizing it up like some sort of sumo wrestler. He snorted, stamping his foot and doing a spin before resting both hands on the door. Psyching himself up, he began to chant, yelling as he lifted his arms up, preparing for the attack and then suddenly bringing them down in one swift motion, a series of quick wrist movements following.
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226 No. 226 hide watch expand quickreply
This thread contains stories pertaining to characters from Curses Foiled (Again!) and their pasts. Everything that follows this post is to be considered a spoiler.

If you are reading straight from /shorts/ or the archives, please direct your attention to >>/youkai/14284 for the first thread of the relevant story.

These stories will be posted and linked from the main story as they become relevant. There will, if I do this the way I currently intend to, be a veritable shitload of them. That said, enjoy.
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>> No. 658
Spacer town!
>> No. 659
Spacer city!
>> No. 660

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618 No. 618 hide watch expand quickreply
This is a thread for possibilities that can not be, for various reasons. As a whole, non-canon. Of course, you could learn things from these.
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>> No. 629
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That's understandable. It's quite good as it is.
>more Tewi always a good thing
Right! I know I'm voting for her for the third favor.
>> No. 630
You're a terrible person. Also for posterity to avoid confusion (I really should have put this in the story post, but too late for that)

>>620 is a result of a write-in from >>/th/160073.
>> No. 643
This write in was pretty great. Fits remilia 's character exactly how I imagined it.

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332 No. 332 hide watch expand quickreply
At the border between the human village and the forest of magic, there is a small stand.
It's nothing much, nothing impressive, nothing pompous. It's just a small stand, selling grilled lampreys, and sometimes, just alcohol.
But for Mystia Lorelei, it was not just any stand, it was her stand. At first, it was just a hobby to pass time. And day after day, it changed to become her main occupation, and a stable source of income.

But that night was a quiet night. No customers, yet the forest was noisy, like it was every night.
Quietly waiting, Mystia Lorelei was humming her favorite song, while staring at the embers, half-hypnotized by the dancing pattern the fire was drawing.
So she couldn't hear him arriving. She only noticed him when he spoke.
“Cara Mia? That's a good song.”
She jumped.
“W-where do you come from?”
“Hu? Well, from the town.”
“The town...”
Mystia quickly observed the man. He was dressed with really strange clothes, wearing some kind of dark coat over his white shirt. In fact, his outfit was reminding her Rumia's own clothes. She briefly considered the possibility she might be facing Rumia's father, but quickly dismissed the thought as being silly. But the strangest thing about him was that folder he was holding against his chest, like if it was something precious.
“Oh, so you're a customer? What do you want?”
The man smiles.
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>> No. 513
Oh? Funny. Thank you for that, I'll be taking that into consideration.
>> No. 604
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Between real men, there is sometimes a connection. Call it telepathy or whatever you want, it's here. Real bros are able to tell exactly what a friend is thinking.
And in this case, I can say very easily that all my friends are thinking “IT'S HOT!” Hell, even the teacher is probably thinking the same thing, but he's focusing on his job. I try to convince myself that teachers are important and dedicated to their work.
“It's fucking hot today. Which one of you motherfuckers turned the heater on?”
Or not, but in this case, it's Him. Not a big surprise. It's Mr Maul, the class teacher.

When the year started, he was a very nice guy and a good teacher. Now, he's a pretty cool dude. Except when we're in school. The other teachers are repeating we changed him, but we keep repeating that he brought that to himself.
Mr Maul's fall is a sad story. It started in September, when we joined school and had him as a class teacher. Several weeks after class started, Fanfan arrived one morning and showed us his wallet while happily shouting that he managed to get rid of that condom he bought after a bet several months before. And then Mr Maul arrived and punched him in the face, screaming that his daughter has been having “illicit relationship with some smartass from my retarded class”. And since that day, he's been kind of different. Bringing beer in the classroom, forgetting his tie, and constantly insulting and threatening Fanfan. And now, that thing in front of us is only a shadow of a past Maul. But, honestly, we prefer him like that. He doesn't have that “I'm-a-TEACHER” aura around him, so when we talk to him, it's like talking to a real man rather than just an item.
Other teachers aren't as interesting as him, more of them are cynical and don't give a damn about us, so I won't bother about them either.

But perhaps I should explain a bit more before continuing, should I?
My name is Eduart Franz, but I'm called Donkey. When I asked about that nickname, I was told “because you're a smartass, so it suits”. My hobby are psychology and religion. Nothing else t
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>> No. 647
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The picture is an accurate depiction of what would likely result.


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480 No. 480 hide watch expand quickreply
So, I’m on a two-week vacation from my main story, as I’ve been stuck trying to write the next update. To give myself some time to rest, and hopefully get some new perspective, I’ve decided to write a few related short stories. So, I hope you enjoy them!
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>> No. 562
It'd be better if it was a Patchy ass picture.
>> No. 563
Say that to your boss.
>> No. 565
By the way, I've updated the main story.

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