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A̛̝͙̺s͏̝̲̣͔̹͎ ̯͎̪̳͎͚̣͞teḁ̹̘͔͟r̪̤̝ś͙ ҉̻̰f͉̯͔͕a͡l͔̘̯l̮̙̦͉͎̘͝.̧̯͍
̰̦͙̼Ṱ̟̲̹h̦̫̤̳͠e̳̜͍͚̗ ̖̻̪͙͔ef̫̩͓̹̟̹͇͡f̨o̩̭̝r͚̫̥̥̘͎t͍̫̣̥͉̖̺s ̭̞̤́p͏̭̯͈̱̗̟u̴̞̞̥̳̜ͅt̰ ͓̫̣͎͙t͡o̜̱̥͎̮͚ ͇̟̤t̪h̲̯̖ͅe͓͍̗̪ ̙̳̬̲͢s̲̟̠̦u̧̯̠̰s͔͈͝t̟̰͍ͅa͙͜i̝͕͚͝n̷͎̪̱̙͍͈̭a̦̩̺̠b̮̤̰͚i̷͙l̞̜̦ͅi̳͇͉t͡y͏̖̬̥̭̱ ͍̬̗̠o̷̦̯͇̲f̛̥ ̛̩̠͎̦b̳̖̤́ḁ̝͙͎͎l̟̤̭͚̱̹̳͞a̻̹̥͇̜͔͉ṋ͙͎͔͎̜̻̀ce̵̪̞͓̜d̩̬̞̖͜ ̰͔̟̟̼s̴a͖̞͕ṇ̸̝i̹̭͈͕̣̱t̀y͖̙͕͖͡
̮͈̲̭̺
G̵͎ú̙̱̬̲̗ͅi͈̺̪d̵̯e̶̝̣̥̼̯̲d͈̠̙̱̩͎̀ͅ b̨͓͍y̞͍͚͔̲ ͙͜a͇̘͇̲͔l͇̜̥̝͟l̡̦͎ ̖̮̻̥͓̖͚t̟h̡̦̩̭̼̩̼a̢t̗͙ ̻̲̭̟͉̀i̬̺͙͕̳s̵͍̹̗̠̘ ̱̀v͇a͇͙͍͎̕n̹̟̱̩i̸̗͉̪̘̲t̮̼͉̰̩̖͠y̻ ̡̳͙̰̩p͕͇̟̬̯r̻̪̗ò̩͔v͍̝͚͖̼̮ͅe̶͚̗̙̳̭ t̤h̵ͅe̸̬̳ ̟̖̲̮͎̙ͅe̬͉̩̠͘x͟i̪̖ͅs͇̮t̳̳̥͕̲͍ͅe͍͔̳̼̩͙n̴c̟̰͍̟e̗͍̺̥͎̘͈ ̯̖͖͝o͚͝f̟͈͘ ̷̱͇̣̙̻̦̠f̯u̞̰̮̰͈t͍͖̝i͚͉̤̪̼͙l̡̝̯̹̞̼̜̮i̯̥̖͉̩̣̜ty̟͟.̶͕͖̖̫͔͚
̻͚̘
̧̪̪A̶͎͎̥̱ ̮̺u͍̙͠t̛̠͉̼i͓l̯̯̟it̛̳̻͈̩͕͍̦y̳͇̜̻ ͕̹͚̫ͅu͏̤͕̩͍t̶̟͈͈i͏͔͙̻̜̫̙̭l̘̜̱i̲s̪͖͎e̦̬̘͔͔͈d ̼̗by̘̱̻͔ ̨a̷̱̞l̩̘̭̲l̮̮̖̻̜̀ ̖̲̳̫͉̥̼w̝̙̱͜h̩͍͓̮͙̗o̯ͅm̦̖͔̖̬͎ ̡̯̮̭̟̲h̵̼̭̠a͓͔̳͓͙ͅv̛̯͕̩̭͚e͞ͅ ͕̳̯ͅb̡̠e̙̪̞̟̙͠e͏̯̠̤̪̲̝n͓͡ ̳͇̻̖͡f̴̜̹̮̲͈͈u̙̻̰͙̰̱ͅt̗̰̦͚̖͉͚i̤̤l̥̤̫̥͍i͈͢s͎̹͇̬̕e̡̩̬̹̻̩d̷̯̫̠̥͖ͅ.̝̘̫̞͕͈
̯̩̪
͖͇̬̱̼̳͜B̫̣̯̻ý͖ ͎̤th̪̞̙̭̟ͅe̦̹ͅ ̦̮ͅw̼̻a͇͖͙̮͍ͅt̛͖̙̩͍͍͕c͙̭̞͉h̭͡f̙̖̘̹̫̥̘u͓̩̹̫̙l͓̱̮͞ ͖̼̭̘̩e̶y͍̬̞̰̮è̦̣̤̜s͍̥ͅ ̸o̲f͔ ̢s͏͇̠͎̹͙o̦̰͉̟̼̱͡c̡i̛̝̬̝͚̹͕é̝͚ț̷͎̼̙͉y̙͔̳̬̟̞̺͡ ̟̦͉̙̙̦͉a̩̯̩̩̱̯ń̞͙̩͉ͅd̙̰͇̠̠̝̭ ͔͇̯̞͇͙͝ṱ͉̦̺͠h͔̹͟o̠̭̼̟̠̺͓s̡̫̤̳e̘͎̘̜̺ͅ ̝̣̺͕̫͡w̪͚̗h̪̻̮̳͈͍͢o̶̟͙̮̖ ͕̜̫̭̟c̮͓̕a͈r͇̭̩̭͚͕e̼͍̖͜ ̱̗͉t̮͙͔h̛̪̻͙e͍̺̙ ̬̮͖̯͉͈l͜e͎̗͔a̳s̺͈̱̜̪t̵̻.̟̘̳̳̭̠
̠̞̺̝ͅ
̘͔̫̮͚̰͚T̜̞̗̞̟̞̩h̠͙͔̥̙̼̤͜e̻̦̥̜͟ ͍̹́g͚͕̙̯n̫̙̖͙̼͚a͉͚̜̺͉̭͔w̨̭̰̫į̲̘̫̹n̨̥̗̻̗g͎͙̘̻ ̞̳̲f̡̠̱̮͉o͎̟̟̝̣̰r̞̘̳ ̧̝̝͓͍so̠̦̣̞͇̱̤m̙e̟̯̲͇͔o̫̜̘ͅṋe ̩̖̝͕̙ͅè̗͍̼̱̘̭l̮̙s̫̬e'̫͇̣̜ͅsͅ ͎̠̼͢p̡͔r͠o̯͎͍̺vi̶̜̞̩̥̼s͢ͅį̟̳o̮̜̗͟n̙͍̯͞.
̖͚͚͙͙
͙̤̩̱T͇̮h͕̺̼͖̰͍͞ȩ̰͓ ̛̤͉͚c̭̜͞a̞̬̠̺̼̳̙͞ļ̬͍l̵͖̬̖i̥̠̻͚̭n͚͖ͅg̯̟͎̲͡ ͕̻͚̕f́o̙͈͕̟̦͕r͉͔̖ͅ ̺̟͙̺̹t̨͈̼͓͎h̷͚̪̝̝̬̟e̹̹̫̯̼̹̫i̘̺͇̞r̝̬͙̭̺͍̩͡ ̫̝̘͙̳͉͇c̣̞̦a̙͈̙̰̙̜̲rr̳̻i̢̮̣̼o̞̺̲̻̹̞n͙̻̪͚͍̻,̪̫͔͍̤ ̰͍͇̠̮t̛̜̮̯͍̞he̞̰ ̝̩̙͎̥̳̀o̭̜u̙̠̦ͅt̨̩̰̦̱̙ͅͅr̞̹i͔͇̙͝g̦̰̬̯̬̗̙h̙̜̜̝t̻͙̜͉͝ͅ ̮̪̰̘b̦͇̗͚̜̻͖͝e̝̰͍̬̤̜g̺̹̙̠͕͜g̫i̴͈̰̠̖n̶͙̮͇̘̝g̹ ̢̠͖̣f̻̺̪͙̯͇̤o̵̬̖̬̳͔̼̜r̥̘̜͕ ̨͈̖̼̗̟̣̺th̛̯e̲ ͉̫̟͔̦́s̙̬̩̺̝̦u̘̖̖s̰̰͚̥̠t̤͖̦̜̣̱̘͠e͇̺̫n̮͓̩͉͎͕̤a̘̳̬͜n̲̲̬̼c̥̜̥͚̙ȩ͈̗͎ ̮̫͙͟ͅo͏̼f͚̺̭͍͓͞ ̖̯̱͚͔̹a f̧̞̰͙o̳͔͓̯͔r͘b͓id̫͖̦̣͇̮́ḑ̥̲͕ͅèn̢͍̯̠̲̤͚ ̹̳̺͖́so͎̘̯u̟̺̠r̥͚̝͚c͙̺̞͘e ̖͎̩̱w̖̬͚̥̼̲̦i̠͓͎͚ṱ̨̰ḫ̴̜͖̯̞̙͙ ͎̤ͅo̰̰̮n̷̞͙͇͔͖̰͖l͚̘͉y͍̫̬͉̮ ͘h̯e͔͡r̼͚̺͓̣̼͞ ̤͈͙̳͚͔̜b̸̩͔r̳̺̙͞i̩̼t̝t͘l̶̙̬̲̜̲̬e͚͕͉͎̦̼̩ ̝̘͠a̴̘̝͈̥͙̮̟n͇̗̝̠͎͉d̠̝̥͖ͅ ̭t̡̩ẹ̵̺͓s͎t̯̘̙̩͉͚ȩ͚̫̗̮͈d̰͉͚̗̟͚̮ ͙͙r͔̣̭͔̥͞ͅem͠ͅo̭̖̭̺̲̮r̦͈͜s̯͙̯͜è ͖̣̩̕to̸̬͕̪ͅ ̸̳̻̜̻̣̜ḥ̶̦̞̞a̩̺̣̪̬̤̰̕l̩͇̟̘͈̟͡t ̮͔̖̘̪̹h̙̫͖̰̭e͈͖͉͙͇r̪͚͕.͔̺͖͎̺̪͝
̱̠ͅ
̯̺̮͉̮Yo̹̬̜u͓͜ ͔͎̠̯̬͓̞s͎̼̮͉͈̞t͕̮͉̬̗̻aŕ̜͔̪̘͚̰e ̜͙̥̠͙̰b̜̰͟l̮̤͉̜̜a͙̹̻̭̟n̮̺̪͝d̹̳͖͉l̶͖̝͎̫͙̘y͕̥̺̩͙̲,̬͎͎̖̰̟̼͡ ̸̦̼̬u̠̜̬ṉ̬̪̤̥a͔̮͈͉͚͔͠b͍̲l̯̪̕e͚̭̺͈̬̞̝ ͏̰͖ṭ̛̜͇͉̬̮o̢̮ ͓̫͞i̗̞̳̠̺m̴̳a̻̦̫͓g̰͍̕i̞̬n̸͕̻̭̙͚̥e͇̬̖͚ ̳̦̪̗̙̞̮w̖̺͉͙h̬̭a̷̺͔̱t̬̘̟̯ͅ ͚̗͘ț̻̻h̸o̬̙̱̲u̠̳͜g̱̱̲͓̦h͈̰̠̦t̹̼̟s̩̫ ̛̭̜̫̙and̀ ҉̻̘̬̜ͅf̯͚̠͕̜̹a̗̤͖n̤̮̻̼̩͚͉͟t̟̫̗͕̻̦̫a̬̥̤̭̲s̖̙̣̲͠i̻̻̤e̳̯̞̝ͅs ̻̲͚̺̼r̠̱̲̟̹̠̝̕ú͎͍̤͇n̬̳͢ ̧̻w͢i̯̜̖̩̲͎ĺ̼̫̙̤d̸͕͙̟ ͓̠͜ͅa̧̙̬̹ͅǹ͉̱d̞͇̹̮ ̖̼̹͍͚̥̳l͖̯͎̫͖̳̺o̡̹͇̙͚̤ͅo̫s̮̙̖͕̦̟e.̺̜̖͖̞
̤̺̞͍̩̀
͙͉̜̟̪͇B̝̮ú̘͔t̺̙͖̪̟͚,͏͈ ̺͎́y̥͙̰̞̱͓̞o͕̩̬̞u'̭̠̠̟͈̭r̴͔̻̦͈̯̯e͈̝̦̯͎̞ͅ i̡͉̙̩̜̼̠n̝̻ ̫l̞u̝͈c̷̹̺̪͓̫k̨͖͇̮̪͎̹.
̗͇͍͕̤̯̕ͅ
̖S̵͙̭h͕͚̀e͓̜̦̺̯͓ ̢̺̺͙̳̝̲m͍͈͘ì̺͖͍͕̫̜g̱͈͚̩̪͠h̝͎͕̠̺̠̩ṭ̗̜͉̱̻̲ ̤̠l̗̫e̯̙̖̤̱͔̕a͚̣̮͉v̦e̶͉ ̞̤y̞͖͓̖̯͙̕o̡̳̬͚͙̟͍͎ṷ̠͎̻̻ ̠̺̫͉̖̰̜u̺̩̺̮̘͎͓n͙̺̝̲̙̝s̡͇̮̟̮͈̦̯t̤r͏̯̹̣uc̬̬k҉.
͍͖͕͇͓͉
̤̼̣̲̣Y̼͜o̢̹̝͕͇̮̰u̺͚̳͝r̥͚̩̺̮͕̭ ͎̹̤̺͚͈̞f̻̱̣̰̣̼̻́l̼̗̬̺̖e̠̯͚̣ͅs҉͇͙͍h̞̫͡ d̻̬̗͕o̱̰̬͇͖e̬s̴̳̺̮͎̙n͏̱̖'t̛͉͓ ̝̮̤͙͈t̷̲̭a̶̝s̥t͔̖̦̜͚͍̬e̸̲̮̲̙ ̧̳̬a̫̮̫l̜͔͉̦l͇͚̕ ͚̱̖̲̜͎͜ͅt̹͍͕̬͝h̘̜̳̹àt͓͎͍͇̪̞͔ ̩͙͚̰̫͟g͙̹͇̙̲͔̪o̡̝̼̗̥̤o̻̦d͍̻̳̹̩ ̙͚̗̯̳̗͈ḁ̙̭͍̮̬̦n̡͚͚̩͖͈y̹̤̰͇͕͎w̕a͍y̳͙̰̲̖̞͢.̧̜͚̙"Ahaha... Ehehe~"
....
Another day at the literature club. As your creeping thoughts and suspicions suggested, Sayori was no where to be seen and of course wouldn't, or couldn't answer any form of contact whatsoever.
You put your head on the desk and sighed. These dream sequences... they were like augurys for the future, but why were they presented in such grim fashions?
"(Y/n), are you okay?" Natsuki's genuine voice calls out from the seat beside you.
"Yeah I'm... fine. I'm just worried about Sayori. She's my childhood friend after all."
Natsuki displays an expression of deep guilt and shame but only for a fraction of a second.
"I'm... I'm sure she's fine.." She sighs.
The club was bland with only Monika and Natsuki, who had grown more reclusive and quiet as the club went on. As an even worse addition to the scenario, Natsuki's dad was bothering you both again, only a quarter of the time did he show up not heavily intoxicated on some cheap beer.
Natsuki momentarily stops reading, slumping delicately onto your shoulder. You try very hard not to move so you didn't wake her up. It felt strange, like the cause of the disappearances was close by.
Too close by.
"Alright, everyone. Time to present our poems." Monika sheepishly calls from the front of the room, Natsuki awakens from her slumber.
"W-Wha?? Oh... right." She picks a piece of paper from the desk in front of her, ridding it of wrinkles and loudly clearing her voice before reciting her poem.
Her... "voice" is just static. White noise, to be specific. You immediately pinch yourself in case you're in another fucked up dream sequence, you don't wake up but you don't feel anything.
The static continues for a while before Natsuki stops "speaking" and sits back down.
"Very good, Natsuki." Monika says as if nothing even happened.
"Now, yours." Monika points to you.
As you read out your poem, you take a glance over at Natsuki's ppem sheet.
"flesh flesh flesh flesh flesh sayori yuri (y/n) flesh flesh Monika flesh flesh flesh flesh flesh eat flesh tendon muscles flesh flesh"
You take a moment to wonder if this is just another piece of "modern art" before deciding it probably isn't. Probably at least.
-----
so yeah I made the Lil poem up there and I'm kiiiinnndaaa proud of it so I'll leave an ungarbled version here.
As tears fall.
The efforts put to the sustainability of balanced sanity
Guided by all that is vanity prove the existence of futility.
A utility utilised by all whom have been futilised.
By the watchful eyes of society and those who care the least.
The gnawing for someone else's provision.
The calling for their carrion, the outright begging for the sustenance of a forbidden source with only her brittle and tested remorse to halt her.
You stare blandly, unable to imagine what thoughts and fantasies run wild and loose.
But, you're in luck.
She might leave you unstruck.
Your flesh doesn't taste all that good anyway.
YOU ARE READING
In My Arms.. [Natsuki X Male Reader]!! [SMUT]
FanfictionPlease read the first one in order to not be eternally confused! (I didn't do the art, only the text!)