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/jp/ - Otaku Culture

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>> No.45837031 [View]
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>> No.45831204 [View]
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>>45831197

Still, my mind rushes for alternatives.

Writing that Seiga will never eat babies again would be noticed by people around her, mainly Yukari, and it could be traced back to me—I have to work with the supposition Yukari will always notice any remarkable change I make to Seiga, be it circumstances or her core personality and self. Working without it against a sage would be foolish—her suicide; leaving Gensokyo; turning against Yukari… After they met Mokou, all could come back to me. Writing Seiga's death might not even be enough, considering Yukari might just come after us and our babies herself. The possibilities were harrowing, the initial plan looping inside my mind again and again, nothing better surfacing.

Writing combined hundreds of years in 12 hours of a full moon—in the best-case scenario—could kill me out of exhaustion, but would also mean my family would live safely…

… But I don't want to die.

I want to be here with my future wife and my two kids—I want to see them laugh, grow, hold them when they need to cry and shower them with love whenever possible! I don't want to lose my family… It's so very egotistical after talking extensively about responsibility, but every human in history has dreaded parting ways with those they love and care for; why would I be any different?

There must be an alternative. An alternative so we all can have our happy endings, where our family remains us four—maybe even bigger somewhere down the line…

I can't think of a better way to secure their souls…

… I love them so much…

It hurts. It hurts so very much.

I smile at Mokou anyway, kissing her back and delighting in a soft and peaceful 'now', though there's more we need to discuss and do.

She sulks hard when I leave her hold and bend to pick up Mochi and Aki from the bed, nestling them in my chest. “Tonight I'll be busy monitoring the letters spreading and tomorrow we’ll be answering the villagers’ question, possibly dealing with Mr. Hieda and talking to the press, so we'll be attempting the Blue Moon plan after tomorrow—okay?” She simply nods, a mischievous smile rising on her face as she cleans up her remaining tears, her eyes gleaming with something primal. I softly lay Mochi and Aki on their cradle, both so tired that it takes no time for them to go back to sleep~looking at the clock, I notice it's almost time for the letters to be spread; my role in this being monitoring flares and, if things go awry, eating the story behind each one so the youkai dealing with that route can have enough time to re-route and be safe. They're color-coded, so it should be very easy. “I'm leaving now for the roof, Mokou. Stay here with th—”

Suddenly, strong hands reach me from behind, holding my breasts with might and pinching the nipples as if a hungry baby, A knee separates my legs as a warm mouth pecks seductively at my neck. W-What…?! “No,” Mokou whispers.

WHA—

“M-Mok—ah~—I need to be outsi—” A hand goes down and enters my dress, moving all the way back to my chest, flesh on flesh thrilling. I'm blushing like a squashed tomato…

Embarrassingly leaking like one, too.

“The flares are like fireworks, right? They'll make a whistling sound that should travel the whole village.” Her rough knee pressured a sensitive spot, one hand rising to caress my neck as her mouth now hovered behind my ear. My trembling hands are pressed against the wall, eyes bulging and cursing my throbbing heart, legs begging to cross yet enjoying the knee action. I nod, red like blood. “We'll both hear if one does go out; you'll be able to eat history back to this point and, since I won't forget too, I'll immediately stop and let you do your work…” Her hand leaves my neck and grabs my face, moving it to meet hers; our eyes on each other are like burning coals. I swallow. “… But until that happens, I'll make you never forget what you are: my woman.”

A moment of silence extended as I processed her words. ‘They do make sense’, said my mortified, horny consciousness. “… O-Okay.” I whispered.

And before I can even register it, I am lifted off the ground and hurled onto the bed, with a powerful, warm body kneeling over my own. I watch Mokou rip off her shirt and breast bandages, same for the ribbon keeping her rain put—a tsunami of beautiful white hair falling over me.

Beautiful.

I throw care to the wind and let my hands explore, blazing lips meeting mine, a love so passionate and powerful burning her on my very skin.

For the teacher’s and the immortal’s delight, no flare was set off.

Outside, the letters are plastered all over the sleeping Human Village. Tomorrow, it'll know the struggles of a teacher and guardian; the injustice thrown at her by the grieving father that has gone mad; the stones thrown by ignorant children that didn't know better; the harrowing yet sympathizing tale of a night to remember; and the brewing tide of change that is to come.

When the village awakes, it'll have to face the reality that its leader is a lunatic.

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