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File 123100378388.gif - (14.39KB, 350x447, f6b834733de4d05d42856a6a2993588e.gif) [iqdb]
[X] Cockslap!

If 'ridiculous' had a definition, this situation would be an epitome, a prime example of completely incomprehensible circumstances, to top it off, brought completely against one's will. It would be fine, it would be nice, bah - good, even - if it weren't an effect of something you didn't want to do... Or at least didn't want to do it for real. It would be good if it weren't for that confused expression of hers, and the fact that... She's covered... in your own...
Insane as it may appear, there's no denying it - seeing that cute, petite body stained with your own seed is an incredibly arousing sight. So incredibly arousing it pumps crazy amounts of addinationa; blood into your already swollen throbbing member. Swollen. Yeah, that's a good word. Swollen usually describes something larger than usual and aching, right? Therefore it would be right to call it swollen, right? Wait, does that even matter?
Hell, the sheer lack of importance makes you scream out loud. It's stupid! Idiotic! How could you allow yourself to get aroused - AGAIN - in face of such a pathetic sight? Because it IS pathetic. That girl's confusion is an effect of your indecent, dirty, perverted, reprehensible, dishonourable actions! Even if it wasn't exactly according to your will, still, the fact stands. It stands. Both of them stand. The fact and your junior. The question is...

Maybe she... Doesn't mind...?

Or are you just thinking with your lower brain here? Is that plaintive hope only a delusion of a testosterone-driven mind? Or is that face actually... sort of happy? She did want to see you after all, didn't she? If so, it's only logical to assume she has some feelings for you, right? Therefore... It should be okay to...
Wait, what is she doing? No, wait, what are you doing, Emily?! Why is that little hand of yours reaching towards...?!
Again, you scream, unsure of your own thoughts, but fully aware of the fact that if she touches you, it's going to get even worse, and frantically try to jump away... Well, in vain, since the store room is too cramped for such hasty manouvers, but you do succeed in moving your lower body... Not in a completely desired way though, as the half-limp member of yours indeed retreats from Emily's reach, albeit hitting her face on it's way. Hitting. Her little, adorable, sperm-stained face. It must feel like getting hit with a timber for her. Fleshy timber, but a timber nonetheless. The force is strong enough to lift her whole body off the crate she's been laying on and send her flying... Send her helpless figure flying somewhere into darkness.
"Emily!" And being the reckless idiot you are, you throw yourself after her, not paying heed to the danger of the act. Well, this shit doesn't mean fuck to you, now does it? What's important is Emily's safety... Cum-stained safety, to be exact, but even the worst safety is better than the lack of it. "Where are you-- oh." There she is. And what's more - she appears to be unconscious again. No wonder, if you were her size and fell off this height, after being slapped with a timber, there ought to be at least a few broken bones. Here's hoping her fairy origins provide decent shock resistance... "Emily..."
No doubt - she's lost contact with the world yet again. Were you a bit less disturbed, you'd probably consider the swirls in her eyes as something your imagination came up with, but now, all that matters is helping her.

[ ] Clean up and leave her here.
[ ] Clean up here and take her to the bath.
[ ] Leave the evidence untouched and lock the damn store room. Lock it forever.
[ ] Fly on the wall.


Ah, this was hard. It's difficult to switch between moralfaggy and crazy, lust-driven Naya so suddenly. Truth be told, I put that option there solely because I knew you wouldn't dare to choose it... not nowadays. I was wrong it seems, and while it gives me a light urge to give TS another chance, I won't hold my breath. And neither should you.
[x] Clean up here and take her to the bath.
[X] Fly on the wall.
I don't even know what this means.
[x] Clean up here and take her to the bath.

You've never used a flyswatter before?

I can emphasize with that feeling. I want to hit my head with something hard in hopes things start acting more coherently. I still loved the GTS scene though.
>while it gives me a light urge to give TS another chance

Do it faggot, i know you want it deep down inside.

[X] Fly on the wall.
[x] Fly on the wall.

Come on!
I can't work with these people.
[X] Clean up here and take her to the bath.
[x] Fly on the wall.
[ ] Fly on the wall.
[ ] Clean up here and take her to the bath.
[X] Clean up here and take her to the bath.
[X] Fly on the wall.
>>You've never used a flyswatter before?

Ah. Well, then I stand by my vote.
Buh-bye, little Emily. We had some laughs, but now it's time to say goodbye~
[x] Clean up here and take her to the bath.

This story needs more recurring characters.
[X] Clean up here and take her to the bath.
[x] Clean up here and take her to the bath.

I'll never understand how this story attracted so many faggotacious voters.
[x] Clean up here and take her to the bath.

Sure, we then fuck her in the bath tub.
Sure isn't multiple voting in here.
[x] Fly on the wall.

Die, Emiry.
Not by me, i promised.
Well, I'd update, but currently I'm waiting for a mod to appear and check for multiple votes... As you can't see, votespam does not pay off.



Suspicious connections.
[x] Clean up here and take her to the bath.
[z] Clean up here and take her to the bath.
Update this
File 12348279811.jpg - (90.23KB, 450x550, e4941c844d4f5ce6d186f854c8dcfa71.jpg) [iqdb]
lol delays


[x] Clean up here and take her to the bath.

Helping her in one way or the other - in the end, it won't really matter, as long as you conceal the evidence of the dastardly deeds that took place here from any unwanted eyes. Emily... Well, Emily will have to somehow cope with the trauma of being knocked off a crate with a Nanaya junior, that slapped her in the face with the force of a charging rhinoceros. Oh god, poor Emily... Kneeling beside her, you search for any visible wounds, but thank providence, nothing seems to have happened to her, at least on the outside. God only knows how stirred up her body is on the inside... Stirred up...
That recalls a certain, not very welcome image, doesn't it? Let's wash it off, shall we? Let's wash it off, with cold water! Or hot water! Or moderately warm water, it doesn't matter! But first thing first, clean up here before leaving. Tissues? None, god damn this misfortune! Looks like you're going to have to use something else... Alright, this is a bad idea, but there should be enough time to think up a decent excuse before anyone catches up. That's right, it's a dirty technique, but nevertheless, you take off your shirt, and carefully hunt every single, smallest stain of seed that has fallen onto the floor and the crates. Zeal before everything, if anyone sees even a slightest trace of it... Here's hoping Hiedas don't visit their storerooms too often.


And now, the bath. It wasn't easy to find it, especially having to hide a stained shirt - and a stained fairy at the same time - from any hypothetical stalkers, but in the end, it turned out to be conveniently placed in the back of the house. Safe, calm, and pleasantly warm, the room itself looks unfittingly classic - that is, modern - compared to the rest of the house. Tiled floor, a large, but simple bathtub, a showering cabin without curtains in the corner.
Placing the still unconscious fairy on the corner of the tub, you begin to throw the smelly clothes of yours onto the floor... Ah, it feels great to feel the freedom of nudity again, even more so after spending a whole day - if not numerous days - in the same, boring outfit. Ew, they could use a wash. But that's exactly the point - along with all the other clothes, you'll be able to wash the stained shirt as well, without causing any suspicion. Perfectly planned. Perfectly utilized set of circumstances, and thus, a perfect execution. Almost enough to erase the shameful deed from your thoughts. Almost enough to make you forget that the tub is almost full, and that by jumping into it, you're supposed to wash the weariness away. Almost. Fortunately, the water itself finally does it.

Emily is still laying unconscious on it's edge, when you wriggle around in the tub, trying to find a more comfortable position.
Relax, absolute ascension. It's the first time in many hours you are able to clear your mind of all thoughts, and concentrate on simply resting. Yeah... The first night with Akyu was tiresome... The second night, a lone one, was dull... The third night, the one now in motion, started off incredibly awkward... Here's hoping it'll somehow start getting better from now on.
Knock, knock.
And as if on a cue, someone knocks on the chamber door, causing you to jerk up violently, surprised by the sudden interruption. Fortunately, the person on the other side has enough dignity not to peer inside without asking first.
"... Nanaya?" it's Vivi. Her voice is a bit unsure, but still carries that tone she had while still on duty. "Are you there?"
A short thump can be heard, followed by a brief rustle.
"I brought you a change of clothes..." she says "I'm leaving them outside."
"Oh." you mutter, completely thrown off the tracks "... thanks, I guess?"
"No need." she answers promptly "If there's anything else you need..."
And falls silent, awaiting a quick response, or so you think.

[ ] "No, nothing else. Thanks, Vivi."
[ ] "Actually, yes... I've got a little problem... Could you come in for a second?"
[ ] "Nothing in particular... But if you could tell Akyu I'm here and waiting, I'd be very grateful."
[ ] "... something to drink?"
[X] "Nothing in particular... But if you could tell Akyu I'm here and waiting, I'd be very grateful."

The night started awkward and it will stay awkward.
[x] "Actually, yes... I've got a little problem... Could you come in for a second?"

[ ] "Nothing in particular... But if you could tell Akyu I'm here and waiting, I'd be very grateful."
>>[] "... something to drink?"
In before we start speculating whether we can brew fairies.

[x] "No, nothing else. Thanks, Vivi."
[x] "Nothing in particular... But if you could tell Akyu I'm here and waiting, I'd be very grateful."

[x] "Nothing in particular... But if you could tell Akyu I'm here and waiting, I'd be very grateful."
[X] "Nothing in particular... But if you could tell Akyu I'm here and waiting, I'd be very grateful."
File 123655877499.jpg - (160.47KB, 614x768, 25369a7714208b9169bab9b3bc703d53.jpg) [iqdb]

Ain't that nice, Terminal. It's too late today, though.

I try
File 123664020053.jpg - (268.88KB, 800x560, 59e3e05af7a42db38c54bb5e348f153e.jpg) [iqdb]
[x] "Nothing in particular... But if you could tell Akyu I'm here and waiting, I'd be very grateful."

Either way, even if you make a fool out of yourself in the process, hell, Vivi's one person that shouldn't really care. Besides, there's something missing in this bath, something... Hm, warm and alive? Emily is one thing, but somehow you can't shake off the remorse of leaving the earlier Akyu's tease unanswered. For what cause? Fairies? A fair trade? Poor pun aside, not really.
"Nothing in particular..."
Indeed, nothing comes to mind, mainly thanks to the fact your mind has been stripped of any advanced functions thanks to the thing with Emily from the storeroom. Funny how a simple event like that can totally jack up one's thoughts like that. Does it matter, now. What's been done cannot be undone, no matter how much effort you put into it. No use in having any regrets, just... Pleasant memories.
"Very well." Vivi replies in a formal tone "I'll be going, then. Goodni--"
"Wait." you almost jump out of the tub, but mitigate yourself at the last moment. There actually IS one thing. There may be only a slim chance of it getting done, but even a 1% possibility is always greater than zero. What will Vivi think of this is her own problem. There might still be hope for killing two birds with one stone. It all depends on... "Akyu." you say, a bit reluctantly "If you could tell her I'm waiting, I'd be very grateful."
"..." silence, for around thirty seconds, before an angry snort can be heard from the other side "You're joking, right?" the maid asks.
Are you? Not... really, though it's indisputable that the request was rather silly. Nevertheless, always worth taking the risk.
"Why would I?"
"Look," she rebuts, distinguishably unstrung "I don't know what you're thinking, but--"
"Just" you cut in "Tell her I'm here."
Pause. Long, unsure. You can only hear a few nervous shuffles, nothing more...
"... okay." ... at least until she realizes the futility of her opposition. Oh, she knows full well for what you asked such a thing, only can't accept the reality as it is... Poor girl. It has to hurt, to have her precious Akyu get stolen like this. Ah, cruel fate, isn't it, Vivi? Don't worry, you'll find someone for you, Vivi. Some day. "If you try something funny, though..."
"No worries," you assure "I'd never do anything funny to Akyu."

Now, stripping her naked and making love to her couldn't be called exactly 'funny', now could it?

Ten minutes later, a tap on the doork marks the arrival of the requested guest. Sir Nanaya, miss Akyu has arrived, it would be appropriate to envoyer a decent greeting, preferably written, on pink, aromatique paper, with red ink, ornamented letters, and whatnot. Too bad the only paper available is the toilet one. Pity, pity, such a pity.
"Naya?" too slow, she takes the initiative "Are you there?"
"Um... called for me?"

[ ] "Yeah, come in."
[ ] "Wait just a second."
--[ ] Hide Emily underwater.
--[ ] Hide Emily in the toilet.
--[ ] Hide Emily in mouth.
[ ] "Eh? No, who told you that?"
[x] "Yeah, come in."

[X] "Yeah, come in."
[x] "Yeah, come in."
[z] "Wait just a second."
--[e] Hide Emily on top of a shelf or behind some towels.
[~] "...Yeah, come in."
[ ] "Yeah, come in."
[X] "Wait just a second."
--[X] Hide Emily in mouth.

If it wasn't this, I would have gone for "Hide Emily in ass".
>--[ ] Hide Emily underwater.
>--[ ] Hide Emily in the toilet.
>--[ ] Hide Emily in mouth.
We just can't stop trying to eat her, can we?

[x] "Yeah, come in."
>We just can't stop trying to eat her, can we?

She's just THAT delicious.
[x] "Wait just a second."
--[x] Hide Emily in mouth.

[ ] "Yeah, come in."
[ ] "Yeah, come in."
[ ] "Look what I found, a farie coverd in ectoplasm"
File 133727638123.jpg - (188.11KB, 515x700, 76197e80ca279a2818f4bff57c72cecf.jpg) [iqdb]
[☆] “Yeah, come in.”

We’ve come to the point where trying to hide anything would end like to stuffing a twelve-gauge shotgun down your briefs and hoping the huge scary fellows at the airport just assume you’re the naturally superior male and meekly let you through. It won’t be well if they don’t, and there’ll be hell to clean up if they do. Whoever wins, you’ll sniff the flowers from below. And that’s only if you don’t shrivel up and break down from having a long hard foreign object jingle-dangling in your smallclothes all day long.

Splendid prospects all around.

“I did!” you call your yes, “why, I did indeed. Come right in, dear.”
“In?” Akyu wants to know. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve wrongs enough to fill a psych ward. What I’m saying is, I’ll sprout icicles if I come open the door right now. Won’t you come in and close it so we don’t have any freezing accidents? Thank you.”

A timid moment and the door swivels open.

The puffs of steam of your bath swell and push away from the in-rush of cool air from without. Akyu swans in, swishing her hips as she twists to pull the door close behind her. The pinkest pyjamas you could sew hang from her small shoulders and waist. She’s barefoot. The toes of her little feet squeak on the wet floor-tiles as she turns to face your upper half: sticking from the tub and waiting, like a hunting spider in a ditch. In a manner, she’s got the right of it. You are carnivorous – she sticks a finger your way and you’ll smoothly have her hand, arm, breast and all. The gods are witness you’d love her hand (and all) right now. The gods are assholes though; they tell her to stay at a safe few-pace distance.

The hunt may have to wait a better night.

Akyu fidgets. “What are you doing?”
“Hunting,” you tell her, your face very serious.

No, it’ll have to wait.

You’ve business to do: tiny winged business with more love than sense and not the best choice of wardrobe the world has devised.

“I kid,” you say to Akyu. “I’ve had you come down here to look at this.”
The girl flushes. The gods alone know what she’s imagined.
“It’s there on the edge of the tub,” you follow; “it won’t bite, I don’t suppose, but you’ll be careful with it, you never know. The edge of the tub, heart,” you repeat. “That one there.”

Akyu shrugs the thought off with a shake of the grape-pink trussed head...

... And follows your dripping arm to Emily.

The sweet fairy is still sleeping off your earlier frolicking. The steam’s hid her neatly so far, but once you’ve pointed her out there’s honestly no basis for doubt that a tiny miniature of a heart-wrenchingly beautiful girl has laid there for a hopefully a very short beauty sleep. Or been laid, you mark inside. Akyu makes a sharp intake of breath and blinks her sweet rose eyes in unbelief as if fairies weren’t only mythical creatures; that they did, in point of fact, exist, and that their favourite pastime wasn’t crashing in people’s bathrooms in the dead of the night for a quick nap.

The undersides of her feet clap-tap as she rushes over to Emily’s side and bends over the unconscious fairy in a kind of curious fascination.

“Where’d you get her?” she asks you, hovering her hands above the little one.
You squirm in your tub. “Ah,” you choke out, “she came through... through the window.”
Akyu looks around. “There’s no window here.”
Another window?”

The Sun of your life flashes you a look that almost seems to say “other” windows are work of pure fiction, like good sorrel soup, and that you’re a horrible waste of cells, full of lies, flies and deception.

The look passes soon enough and you’re let to have your breath again.

“Isn’t she awfully small, though?” Akyu says of the unconscious Emily. “I wonder what’s made her come so close to the village.”
“The smell of food?” you try.

She lifts the fairy’s tiny hand with the tip of her finger.

“Awfully cute, too,” she says. “And look at her hair! So silky!”
“Is—Is it?” You pull yourself closer through the hot water. “Why, she is darling, now when you’ve said it.” The lie feels raw in your throat. “Say,” you push from your tight chest, “do you think that she’s... that she’s dead? She isn’t moving...”
“I shouldn’t think so,” Akyu tells you. “When a fairy dies, they disappear. She’s live all right. Or perhaps she isn’t a normal fairy. She is very small for one. She’s out cold though anyway. She isn’t waking up.”

And small wonder. After what you’ve done...

Akyu goes on to examine the little one with a studious expression.

The book-scribe in her takes over. There isn’t a traceable sign of shame on her face when she takes and lays the fairy down spread-eagled on the corner of the tub and tests every tiny inch of her body with a sharp fingertip and scarce less sharp eye. This isn’t the side of her she’s shown to you all so often. And yet here it is, scaring you breathless that any second now she’ll slice the poor thing open to see what she’s got under that tan-browned belly and tiny green-tipped breasts. There might be a homicidal, ball-peen hammer-wielding maniac somewhere inside the girl, squatting in some dark corner and waiting the right time to jump out and have your brains on the wall, and you’ll never know until the very last moment.

There has been one maniac inside of her already, after all—why not another?

She’s undone the two top buttons of her sleeping shirt, you see through the half-haze. The heat must have got to her. The shirt slithers adorably down the length of her shoulder. The fabric bends on her chest. The gaps between the buttons spread as she leans down to stare closer at the slumbering Emily. A delightfully pink nipple peeks through the gap, perched atop the soft swelling of flesh that is her left breast. The pale-red areola is like a small inviting smile.

You move your hand, slow as you might; gather up a palm-full of water...

... And splash it on the careless girl’s face.

“Hya—!” She gives a yelp. “Hey, you!”

It’s a stupid guy’s trick, you’re mindful of that.

And yet you can’t help it. It’s the way she flinches and puckers her lips; how she paws at the front of her half-undone shirt to get the water off before it soaks in. It’s how she glares at you with one adorably askance brow and puffs up her cheeks. It’s certainly how she’s visibly compelled to return the favour but can’t, being the one with no water at hand... yet.

“What was that for?” she demands of you, fighting back a silly smile. “I was only checking how she’s built! You know!”
“I was starting to feel ignored,” you complain with a whine. “I was dreadfully lonely until only recently, you’ll recall; the scare is still there somewhere. I’m afraid of being left alone... even if it’s just a bath.”
“May that be why you took this thing in with you here? To keep you company?”
“And maybe dance for me at that, yes.”
“You’re silly,” Akyu chides. “She’d play pranks on you, that’s all.”
“I’ll take pranks over being alone any day.”

You sit up and reach out to her.

Your arms drop water on the floor.

Akyu sets her fists on her breasts and explodes in a blush. “I’ve already had a bath today!” she moans. “I’ll wrinkle!”
“I’ll iron you out.”
“Geez, no!” She shakes her damp locks. “Won’t you listen? Come, come out of the water and let’s go upstairs. We’ll take the fairy and examine her more, maybe try to wake her somehow...? Come on, now, please? I’ll really wrinkle!” she warns. “I will, you know!”

[ ] Insist.
[ ] Go along.
[x] Insist.

How odd that you resume this. I hope you're attempting to maintain the original spirit of the work or else this revival's going to fall flat fast.
[x] Insist.

Holy batman breast you're back.
God damn it YAF is writing again.
You haven't been to /underground/ lately, have you?

[x] Insist.
Iron out Akyuu.
I thought /underground/ is Hartmann's lair now.
Hardly. It's mostly YAF's Satori board, I'm pretty sure Hartmann's story finished and I ignored it anyway. There's also a decent Alice in Makai story.
Na, now Hartmann's lair is /border/.
Just when I was thinking to write something about Youmu!
You're already writing a story about Tenshi (sort of), apparently you want to keep on with this one, and know you want to start a third story? I advise against it. Stay focused on your current stories, and start one later.
But anyway, Ddyk's story is about the Prismriver, so it won't be a challenge between the both of you. So feel free to try, I'm sure he won't mind. Just don't drop it.
too bad hardly anyone reads his stories and that they're not that good at all.
File 134775473364.jpg - (267.15KB, 699x1045, 3f1e5e92c1595174097601c389fe4b86.jpg) [iqdb]
[X] Insist.

“Wrinkled or not no one will say you aren’t lovely.” Not if they’ve the least trace of brains, they won’t. “Come on in. Or I’ll pull you in, and that won’t be near as quiet.”

In the face of that overwhelming threat, it is all Akyu can do to attire her best pout and hope for the best. The best turns out more stubborn by half.

“Oh, huff,” she mouths, turning and starting for the door. The instance you tense to pounce after her, however, what she does is stop, look out into the hall, and freeze.

When she is sure no one is coming she shuts the door and skins her drawers. A moment past, and all her shirt’s buttons come loose. The cloth slithers down her arms to sail gracefully to the floor. Two sweet pink breasts greet blushed your insatiated eyes. Akyu winds one uncertain arm around her flat belly, covering nothing, satiating less. You are lucky to have... spent... yourself earlier. This was nothing if not an entirely innocent invitation to bathe together. Under other circumstances, you might have had to start beating your dick like it owes you money. To calm it down, of course.

Akyu makes one dainty step... and that gives birth to a lot of dainty little steps, each a touch more confident than its parent. She throws one slight leg over the tub’s edge, to test the water. The searing temperature balks her only an instance. The bath stirs and climbs up your body as Akyu lowers herself between your legs, her back turned. “Tsk, sss,” and other assorted sounds, and she gets used to it; she sits down and leans her tiny head on your chest. A satisfied moan makes out of her lips.

Somehow your hands grow a will of their own and venture out to find her legs underwater. The slightest movement makes your little Sun jolt from the heat, but she says nothing when you rest your fingers on her thighs. Nor when you skim them up her hips, sides and tummy. Nor when they go farther up and cup her budding breasts. When you push them up and feel her nipples bump between your fingers, though, that is when she must say something.

The something proves a faint, “Ah...”

At first. Quickly a lot of faint things become something slightly louder, which any larger number of faint things soon becomes, as anyone can say. Starting with “Ahn~,” through “Oh,” by way of “Nnn...” to breathless “Nyes,” Akyu gives a choking performance of impassioned sounds. The length of her back arches slightly each time you squeeze the flesh on her chest. One smooth leg rose out the waters of the tub and wound lovingly around your own, leaving her most intimate parts wide open. So you go further, nuzzling at her damp hair, revel in her flowery scent, nibbling at her tiny ear, all the while sneaking two fingers like snakes around her bellybutton and into the flower between her legs.

And then, so near your goal, she stops you. You bite your tongue as her hand catches yours hot-handed in mischief.

Akyu twists her head half around to give you a one-eyed scowl. “Say I’m wrinkled down there, and I’ll have your head on a platter.”
“Ssh!” she breaks in, “don’t. Ssh. That’s not the last ‘ssh’ I got for you, either, I’ll have you know. I have a box of ‘ssh’ all with your name on it upstairs. So ssh, don’t.”
“I wasn’t about to.” You try to slither your fingers free, but she has you good.

You might break her hold, yes... but then you’d break more than that and perhaps end up broken yourself. You’ll be dead before you break anything of Akyu, and nowhere on your body looks noticeably dead.

Akyu fishes your hand out from her loins like an undiscovered species of wriggly, perverted pink calamari. “We can’t do this always,” she says.

Your whole body stiffens. The concept of not pinching her breasts and prodding between her legs around the clock breaks your floodgates and completely flattens your notion of the future. Your other hand slips from her breast like a chick from a nest.

“W—What do you mean?” is all you manage.

In case of doubt, pretend ignorance.

Akyu toys a moment with your feelings, being silent. And then she says, “We can’t carry on like this.”

Common knowledge is, the stiffer something is the easier it breaks. Whether that applies also to the human body, you couldn’t say, could not give a care, but something cracks inside you all the same. Upon closer inspection, it’s just all the hopes and dreams that you ever nursed. You breathe easier. You knew it wasn’t anything very important.

You’re still alive after all.

Alive or not, you lose some part of Akyu’s speech. When you regain a tatter of your destroyed composure, you find her saying, “—can’t go on!” That alone almost sets you to howling at the moon. Akyu continues despite all. “This isn’t how you should live! You sleep in an inn room; what little you scrape together at your job goes there—but for how long? How long can you keep it up? Father likes you enough; but he can’t hire you. Vivi cares for all the chores around the house, and I don’t know that Father’d like a man for a servant so much. And what about us? We can’t... d—do it all the time—”

DEATH TAKE ME NOW, you think.

“—behind everyone’s backs,” Akyu goes on to finish. “I don’t want to hide. I don’t want to stop, either, but I don’t want to hide.”


“W—Wait—” you snap out of it, “—you’re saying...” Your throat is tight, but you swallow to ease it. “You don’t want to...?” The very thought clenches it again.
Akyu relieves you, fidgeting with her knuckles. “I—I don’t mean to push anything,” she says, “but you... look, I—I wa... wan... I want you, all right? I—I’m a Child of Miare,” she follows up quickly; “I have to marry soon, I have to think about children; Father knows that. What I’m saying is... but you’d need to settle down first. Father will never acknowledge you if... you know what I mean, right?”

Oh, if there is a god, all praise to him. You let yourself melt just a little.

Akyu doesn’t know it, and she may fret. The father’s agreement is the least part of plans, and already done besides. The trouble is the ring. The ring. You were so absorbed in your... adventures... that the thing had slipped your mind, but now you remember. A ring is all that’s needed... and a proposal. You’ve fought fathers before; they’re vicious fighters, to be sure, but they suffer from silly little shortcomings like humour and conscience. A ring has none of those; nor will it be much impressed by screaming and punches. You can smack the father into giving another permission if the situation wants, but you’ll have a harder time smacking a ring into magically popping into existence down your pocket. Or the proposal into doing itself and not bumbling horribly at it.

Akyu continues to mumble on about her anxieties, bless her little ignorance; but you can’t spoil the surprise. So what should you do, to save the night and the surprise in one fell swoop? What can you do to bake more cake and eat it too? Gears grind hard in your head.

And then Akyu’s worries draw a high crescendo, and she poses the question:

“Naya. W—Will you... Would you settle down, f—for me?”

You can see half her face at best, one pointy breast, one risen knee, but you know the question has inside it all of her and more.

[ ] “Can I?” tease her. “Can I, really? I’m a wildcard. A live wire. You can take me upstairs and have at persuading me, but will I listen?” Whatever her reaction, she has worried enough. Take her mind off of it. And tomorrow, the ring. (And what about Emily?)
[ ] “Why, maybe I should. Have I ever told you about my life before this? A rather miserable story.” Tell her maybe. This could be a good chance to share some secrets. To bond. And tomorrow, the surprise.
[ ] “Actually, I have something to tell you.” And rings and surprises be damned.
It lives!
What I an so happy!
What I an so happy!
[x] “Actually, I have something to tell you.” And rings and surprises be damned.

I'm thinking this is the ring option.
[X] “Why, maybe I should. Have I ever told you about my life before this? A rather miserable story.” Tell her maybe. This could be a good chance to share some secrets. To bond. And tomorrow, the surprise.
[X] “Why, maybe I should. Have I ever told you about my life before this? A rather miserable story.” Tell her maybe. This could be a good chance to share some secrets. To bond. And tomorrow, the surprise.
[x] “Can I?” tease her. “Can I, really? I’m a wildcard. A live wire. You can take me upstairs and have at persuading me, but will I listen?” Whatever her reaction, she has worried enough. Take her mind off of it. And tomorrow, the ring. (And what about Emily?)
Teasing is the way to go I think.
I didn’t honestly expect anyone’d reply at this point. Now what do I do?
[X] “Why, maybe I should. Have I ever told you about my life before this? A rather miserable story.” Tell her maybe. This could be a good chance to share some secrets. To bond. And tomorrow, the surprise.
File 135033103799.jpg - (423.64KB, 740x1035, 747e274934c9c8f15831c3cc5f054b32.jpg) [iqdb]
[X] “Why, maybe I should. Have I ever told you about my life before this? A rather miserable story.” Tell her maybe. This could be a good chance to share some secrets. To bond. And tomorrow, the surprise.

It’s a cruel Akyu who dices with men’s feelings in the midst of a therapeutic bath, but this is your Akyu that you’ve chosen – middled between your legs and skittish with anticipation. You may only speculate what it cost her to put you to this question; she can’t do so much for you.

Nor would she – if you had, even, managed it before her. This isn’t the kind of girl to presume anything so rude. This is the modest girl from your old class, the one who would sit smothering a smile when everyone laughed at you because she’s too polite to do something so mean. She’s the one who’s always been nice for you from the start; once she even lent you a pen and your fingers touched, and you knew at once there was something between you two you weren’t telling. So, as you start stroking her cheek and look into her eyes she doesn’t know what to do and sits there, pink and flustered... but slowly, slowly, the eggshell cracks and sooner than you know it there she goes, smiling that precious smile and asking to be together for ever more.

You breathe the tension out of your chest. Somehow, someway, it’s fallen to you to react, rather than she. The pillion feels cold and tough after riding the saddle for so long. You don’t know if you like it; don’t know if this is to the good or no – but if this is your seat, maybe it’s time to have some words while someone else is holding the reins...

“Why, maybe I should,” you begin. Akyu lights up with a hope, but you put her out just as soon. Careful, Nanaya; you aren’t here to propose, not yet. “That might be just what I need, yes, but first... Have I ever told you about my life before this? I don’t think I have at that. A miserable story, to tell it true. Ancient, too – there are times when I ponder on those days and they seem almost years in the past, not weeks. And when in the dark of the night I search my memory, it is so dead; sometimes it feels as though I’d never even lived before this world.

“I lived on my own, did you know that? Whatever had happened before, I had a place to call my own at the least; I had somewhere to run if... when things went downhill. I do not remember much of my youngest years; you’ll have to forgive me. I was always in this second-floor flat, had always been there. Alone. I knew my days, I knew them well: wake up in the morning – one, two, three past noon – eat what easiest meal was produced from my fridge, then it was the web, my little window to the outside. Oh, I’m sorry. You can think of it as a book – only connected to thousands of other books, perhaps all the books in the world. It was a lot to read, so I read. I read, I read, I read. After the Sun went down, after the world had died, I was still there, reading. ‘Til the Sun went up again and I lost to the wear, when I fainted on my desk, ‘til the next afternoon. I was a walking corpse living many lives but my own. I was dead and did not care.

“That’s what they don’t understand about me, Akyu. I didn’t care. Anything else was needless; and if there was one truth I could say of myself back then, I would never have compromised what I was. Not for a meaningless career, not for this fairy tale called love, and certainly not for some arbitrary want of society. When I lived several lives a day through my books, what was one less where it scarcely mattered? I had my web, I had my books; I had money in my pocket, wherever it came from, and no family to worry for; I had a bed and a roof over my head. What else was there?

“And then, when I most thought I’d found my perfect heaven, the insanity crept in.”

You stop to close your eyes in returning pain. Akyu says nothing; nothing makes a sound but the steady dripping of water. And it is a while before you hear your own voice saying in scarce a whisper:

“And it was so terrifying. To watch it take over, never being able to do anything myself... Have you ever drunk so much you blacked out but not quite? It was something, something very close, like that. There’s always the sober you, somewhere deep inside, fettered inside an iron cage, looking on without – on everything you do... And screaming, screaming at you to stop, and crying, please don’t do it, oh god, wake up, please don’t – but your body is deaf, and you are deaf, and you don’t know why; you stumble out into the rain and trip over your own feet, cut open your hands, break your knees, puke over your wounds, and you’re crying, crying inside, powerless...

“I knew what had set it off. Oh, my dear god, I knew what had done this to me; I loathed the word. ‘Gensokyo.’ I heard it by chance, the damned word, pure chance, and it unlocked something within me, something great and wonderful, but also dark and bloody... And sooner than I knew, I became its prisoner. Night and day, and night and day, I was drawn... compelled... no, coerced to seek it out, say it, know it, want it... To find it. You can’t describe what a crushing will it had imposed on me. I did not eat, I did not sleep; I was deader with each hour I spent passed out. I had to find it, I must. This wasn’t a mere curiosity, not your morbid fascination, no... This was something more, a matter of life and death—no, more than that. The whole world was holding its breath, Akyu...

“And when I found it, and when it breathed again, oh... You don’t know the elation, Akyu. You cannot comprehend the rapture, the ecstasy of that moment. I was free! The howling in my head stopped, and such a weight left my shoulders I stood there for minutes and laughed. I laughed, Akyu. I was changed. This was where I belonged—no, it was there that belonged to me. This world is me, Akyu. You don’t feel it, but I do. I am not a piece of it, I didn’t complete the picture when I’d crossed the border; I was the picture. This may not make sense to you, but I am not in Gensokyo, Akyu; Gensokyo is in me. I am holding it in my hands, I am cradling it in my heart, I am carrying it inside me. I did not understand it then, I don’t still, but that’s how it is. I know it now. I know it, Akyu.

“And what a disappointment it all became when I entered that classroom, so many days ago,” you conclude with a bitter laugh. “For here I am, speaking of nonsense, dreaming of felling trees with bare fingertips, when all I really want is with me right here. A modest girl who’s nice for me and lends me her pen when I need one. Maybe, just maybe, maybe all of that was just a bad dream? Maybe all the insanity, the searching, the pain, maybe all of it was just because I was lonely? What do you think? Akyu?”

“I never knew...” you hear a murmur.


“I never knew...!”

“Akyu, what’s—”

You try to touch her, see what’s wrong...

... But then Akyu turns around, so quickly, and throws her arms around you – around your head, your hair, your ears – and it is so soft... so soft and so gentle, you may think she fears breaking you someway with her embrace. But there’s nothing erotic about it; somehow being naked makes no matter; you’re just surprised, speechless...


“To think,” she breathes out, “to think so, that you had such a secret...” You can feel her breast swell and fall with every gasped word. “I never knew, I never did. I—I’m so sorry, Naya. So sorry...”

“You don’t have to—”

“But I must!” The desperation in her voice almost makes you take her at her word. You wait for her to go on. And finally, she does. “I am the Child of Miare,” she says. “The ninth, the current incarnation, the inheritor. It is my blood duty to know! And yet here I was, so oblivious... I feel vile, like I was toying with you, never knowing... Naya, I didn’t...”

“It’s nothing to cry over,” you try to calm her, “it’s not even that sad of a story...”

“But it was! You had no family, no one but yourself... You were dead, you said so! You did! And then, these things you do, the things you feel... Think who you could be, Naya. Think—”

“I don’t want to think.”

Akyu comes away from you, all teary-eyed confusion.

And she’s so pretty like this, your heart leaps in its cage. The flushed little cheeks, the shoulder-length hair that glitters when she moves, the sloping shoulders, the small perky breasts... This is something to die for. To live for. This is what you’ve been searching for. This is your heaven.

You can’t rest upon your laures yet, but breasts should do for the nonce.

You pull your Akyu closer and hug her to your face. The breasts jump up and twitch, as she gives up a little yelp of surprise.


“I don’t want to think,” you tell her again. “I don’t care for the ‘was’es; I don’t want to linger on ‘could have been’s. When the night is fallen, when tomorrow is a heartbeat away: that is when I feel truly alive. And if the heartbeat is yours...”

You kiss her chest where her heart ticks beneath her skin.

You kiss her between her collarbones.

You kiss her neck.

And before either of you musters a “no, please, not now,” you’re kissing her fully on the tender lips.

There is no telling the time, but it strides by silent all the same; and when the only question that remains is “your room or mine?” the clock out in the hall peals a twelve. Midnight.

“Sorry, Akyu,” you say, your voice stiff, “sorry. Not today. Not... I need to gather my mind. You know...”

“... Yes. Yes, I know.” Akyu tears her lips away from yours. “You do that. You... do.”

You let your fingers slide along her sides when she comes out of the lukewarm water, dripping, pink and white and beautiful; and when she towels herself down and rushes out of the bathroom, so swiftly as if she were running away, you almost call after her... But you don’t.

After the last of her naked steps vanish in the hallway you rise yourself, do your deed and turn out again your stale old clothes. You gather up Emily and leave the house on your tiptoes, watchful for the sleeping as well as those not.

The night is young, but you feel your years tonight, however few.

Along the dimly lit streets you stalk toward your inn, unseen, unheard... unheeded.

This is good. They will hear of you soon enough.

Why should you foreshow the surprise?
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The rest of the night races past as swiftly as a snail. Morning comes to you like toilet paper: long, grey, and just a little unpleasantly on the damp side.

When the light whips you out of your beddings, you see Emily has gone from the bed you fashioned for her out of a cardboard box and sponge filched for this purpose from Kourin’s shop. Most like gone to molest this or other flower, you manage a sleepy thought. At the least she’s not decided to eat you in your sleep as payback for what you did to her yesterday. This is probably for the better. There’s only guessing what the innkeep would have said to being woken with cries of “Gods, she’s eating me! Mercy! She’s eating my soul!

After last night, being eaten is one of the last things on your mind – somewhere between a date with a bear and a steamy make-out session with Michael Jackson.

You decline the offers of breaking your fast from the chambermaid on your way downstairs, and make instead for the chilly morning outside. You’re up early – earlier than any sense would dictate. There’s very likely some hours before your work still, and the village is only in the throes of waking up. A thin, dewy mist hangs in the streets, and the houses are painted white by the tardy Sun. Your ears ring with the morning quiet. You’d love some noise now. A lot of noise. The morrow is meant to be ripped into like a piece of meat, not eased in like a suppository. The light stings your eyes.

You aren’t made for mornings.

[ ] Waste it away around the town.
[ ] Swing by Akyu’s home.
[ ] Keine should be up for school. Go to her.
[ ] Find Kourin: Reloaded.
fuck I didn't mean to bump this aw shit
File 135033904754.png - (56.68KB, 450x450, 134187888887.png) [iqdb]
[x] Swing by Akyu’s home.
yo help a nigga out, why doncha
[x] Swing by Akyu’s home.

Because noise happens there.
[x] swing by Akyu's home
You rumpmonkies need 2 stop voting on this shit.
But we want to see this continued.
Your fault Yaffykins. That's what happens when you forget to sage.
And I want to ditch this with a clear conscience.
Niggas make mistakes, kay?
But your Polish. And eloquent.
How can you be a nigga? You're far from black.
Make MC dive into the lake. It's the best end.
You, dear sir, are not eloquent.
File 135250064256.jpg - (44.74KB, 526x438, 1352499405390.jpg) [iqdb]
I guess I'll just make it official then.

Imbecile detected.
Oh, look at that.
The faglord can't even use period, and can only whine about a bump that nobody else care about.
Do your parents know you're on THP?

[X] Swing by Akyu’s home.
Jesus Christ, you guys.
[x] Swing by Akyu’s home.
File 136822925192.png - (6.52KB, 316x290, 1267657006036.png) [iqdb]
Don't you feel loved?
File 136883090736.jpg - (581.03KB, 700x979, c7986221cb783432a6bc22de3273790c.jpg) [iqdb]
I feel molested. Nyeargh!
[ ] “I do, but I don't think you do.”
Oh hey, story I just finished reading for the first time.

Author says it's dropped, but they're still posting. Maybe if they get enough votes the story will be un-dropped.

[x] Swing by Akyu’s home.
[x] Swing by YAF’s home.
Holy crap, stop being rude people. Let YAF drop his story in peace.
File 136940680518.jpg - (67.79KB, 436x348, CirNO.jpg) [iqdb]
I dunno, Cirno isn't stupid enough to think that voting in a dead thread would revive it. All you're doing is burying the stories that actually do update.

Such as? As much as I hate to say it given how excited I was for Chrono, this place seems deader than usual.
File 136942973221.png - (196.06KB, 380x380, yea.png) [iqdb]
>All you're doing is burying the stories that actually do update.
>in /shrine/
things have slowed down compared to even a couple months back, but chronically bumping a dead story isn't helping.

And there's the fact that a major factor in /shrine/ general slowness is the result of the "YAFageddon" or when after basically making /shrine/ into /YAF/ his ego imploded and got him banned.
Shut up, wiseman.
How many fucking egoes do I have, that after so many imploding I still have a hefty supply of them? Am I some kind of ego god? I should make my own religion, all about me.

I shall call it egoism.

If you can count how many egos you have, you don't have enough.
[x] Swing by Akyu’s home
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