>’Safe’ is hard to come by these days
>It seems like everywhere you go there’s some angry clique glaring at you
>But the jocks themselves seem especially pissed
>As you and Sam walk down the lower hallway, where you were chased by werewolves not but a few hours ago, a group of scantily clad cheerleaders pass by you
>Both are anthros, one being a curvaceous pig, the rounded pink skin of her thigh accented by the red and white top stretched tightly over her well endowed body
>Her shirt clips just beneath her substantial breasts, and you’re sure by the boner you’re wielding that she’s in violation of several dress codes
>Yet you can’t help but be drawn to her, almost as if her eyes are hypnotic
>She flashes a cute wink and a smile, and then you see it: the shimmering red in her eyes, the narrow filed points of her teeth
>She’s just like Mike is
>You can’t help but gawk like a fucking idiot because the smaller of your two heads is doing a lot of thinking right now
>”A-Anon?” Sam squeaks up
>You shake your head of lewd thoughts
>You’ve been caught, but who cares, right?
“They’re real pretty, huh?”
>You jab the bunny with your elbows
>If Mike were here he’d talk about how he thinks they’re beautiful but would never fuck an anthro…
>…Which he seems to talk about a lot
>Sam casts a glance over his shoulder
>His ears perk up quickly in alarm
>He must have noticed the vampirism too
>”Y-Yeah th-they’re gorgeous h-haha.”
>He looks up at you, his eyes begging for approval
>”D-D-Do you think they’re h-h-hot, Anon?” He pauses, hands gently pulling at his ears. “I-I mean f-f-for m-mammals?”
>You hum in thought
“I mean… I guess so? That pig is pretty thicc, right?”
>Sam makes another obvious glance backwards
>You grab his ears and steer his head forward
>Maybe he isn’t gay after all? He’s just… supremely awkward, as usual
”Hey man try and be subtle when you’re checking a girl out, okay? You’re gonna get us called perverts,” you say
>Sam lowers his head in shame, finding comfort and safety in staring at the floor
>”S-Sorry t-t-they’re so…. H-Hot? H-Ha.”
>The way he says it sounds extremely forced and uncomfortable and you want to ask him if he’s gay or not, because now you’re confused
“Hey Sam…” You rub the back of your neck and fix your gaze down the hall, scanning for any signs of potential danger
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you…”
>Here it comes
>Absolute truth
>And maybe more confusion on your part
>The moisture under your arms and the heat radiating from your stomach to your face tells you you’re nervous
>Which… shouldn’t be happening. You were supposed to be brave, courtesy of Vanessa
“Are you-” you cough a bit, as if choking on the words themselves
>Anything to prolong the question, right, you coward?
>Wait, ‘you coward?’
>You’re not allowed to be a coward
>This is clearly just a fluke
>Okay, deep breaths
>Out with the question
>You look down at Sam…
>…Who has pulled the collar of his ratty hoodie far away from his wiry neckline, and is peering down at his chest
“Dude, what are you doing?”
>The bunny shoots his head upward, and almost instantly grabs at his ears, twisting them like they were throttles to a tiny and pathetic dirt bike
>”N-N-N-NOTHING!” He squeaks, his face flush with crimson
>What…
>Why is this such a big deal?
>Oh god you just want him to stop freaking out
>It’s really not a big deal
>Not like he has tits or anything
>Maybe gyno? You’ve never seen him without his hoodie
“Okay, okay, I believe you, man. I believe you. Just chill-”
>”I swear I-I-I wasn’t l-l-looking I-I mean c-c-comparing my-myself I-I- mean-” His words fire off at a mile a minute and you only catch a few
>You know, if he didn’t stutter like a fucking madman, he could maybe be a rapper
>Beats being a janitor
>And GOD he’s really wringing those ears out now
>Alright, time for an intervention
“Look, it’s fine, just-” you forcefully pry his hands away from his ears, but you take care to squeeze them softly. “You’re going to hurt yourself. Crush my hand if you have to crush something.”
>Sam, trembling, gives you a tight grip — you can’t tell if he’s excessively weak or holding back
>”T-Thanks…” Sam whispers in a shuddering breath
>You ignore the cuteness and keep walking down the hall, your face pulsing with heat and embarrassment
>You know how this looks to everyone, and you do catch a few giggles from a few human preps who pass you by
>You try to pay them no mind, but Sam obviously notices
>He squeezes your hand a little harder, using his other free hand to clutch at the drawings he wanted to show you
>Just gotta get you and him somewhere safe
>And you don’t…
>…Don’t seem to want to let go of his hand?
>It’s so small and gentle in your comparatively huge hands
>Sam has an artist’s fingers — delicate and nimble
>You can feel them threading your own
>Fuck, he’s probably gay, and you really want to let go of his hands, but you can’t — not now
>Or could it be that you don’t want to?
>You come to a stop eventually, wandering out of a dream
>Huh, did you hold hands with him all the way down the hall to the lunch room?
>…
“Alright Sam, let me see those drawings,” you say, already trying to forget your extremely gay waltz down the hall
>You slump against the wall near the cafeteria, nervous sweat running down your face, underarms completely soaked from the self-conscious anxiety
>Somethin’ ain’t right, you think in a vaguely Texan accent
>Sam scoots over to you across the dirty floor, crumpled paper in hand
>Kinda gross… who knows when the last time these floors have been cleaned since Stella went apeshit?
>Speaking of, the lunchroom looks spotless
>Which is alarming to think of how fast and strong the janitor must be to have flipped over all those tables back to their original configurations
>Sam doesn’t seem to notice
>Or care
>He just prattles on about his drawings with sheer joy written across his face
>”T-This one is a superhero na-named S-Slayer,” Sam says, unfurling the paper and spreading it out on the floor
>’Slayer’ is a somewhat short, stocky human with spiked brown hair and piercing green eyes
>He wears a tight leather jacket with spikes and has what looks like a heavy… rifle? Of some kind slung across his shoulders, clearly meant to obliterate fools
>Huh
>He looks a lot like Mike
>Not to mention the fact that these are really, really good drawings
>Like really good
>Or maybe you’ve got low standards?
>”H-H-He kills m-monsters,” Sam explains, excitedly pointing to features on ‘Slayer’ (no relation to the band, unfortunately)
>”H-His Obliterator g-gun can take out bad guys i-i-in one s-s-shot, b-b-but he’s also got a s-short temper, and is k-kinda mean. S-So he’s an ant-anti-hero.”
>Next is ‘Charmer’, a fair-skinned human who is dressed in a sharp suit (not unlike your own), with an admittedly suave smile. He’s got a well fitted fedora (lel) covering his face, leaving only his cheeky smile visible
>If you had to guess, you’d say this guy looks like a gangster of some sort — an old timey mobster who speaks with a Boston accent as thick as clam chowder
>Charmer is apparently a natural-born leader and uses his social cunning to influence others
>Kind of ironic that Sam is drawing socially conscious characters, but you keep that rude little comment to yourself
>”T-T-The next t-two are a duo,” Sam says, nervously withdrawing a carefully folded scrap of paper from his pocket
>He spreads out the drawing, and you read the character names out loud
“Anon the Brave and Wise.” Your eyes flick to the next line “and Samurai Outlaw.”
>Holy shit, it’s you
>You’re not wearing your signature suit and tie, but instead what looks like priest robes, with a hastily scribbled red book in one hand
>You’re posed like you’re delivering a sermon, or reciting a powerful spell
>And to the right of you is a hooded figure with a pair of wide rabbit ears raised like two antennas
>Though the face is obscured by the hood, Sam has taken the time to color in two pairs of golden eyes, peering out of the darkness of the cowl
>In her right hand, Samurai Outlaw wields a simple baseball bat as a weapon
>You look to Sam, who says nothing, only shyly smiles and digs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, perhaps in a dignified effort to keep himself from stress-pulling at his ears
“Sam… Is this us?” You ask, even though you really have no doubt in your mind who each character is supposed to represent
>”I-I u-used you all f-f-for ref-reference,” he says, slowly folding each drawing back up, instead of crumpling them up into unintelligible balls like he did before
“Of course — I don’t know why you wouldn’t, but why would you call me ‘Brave and Wise’? I’m neither of those things.”
>”B-Because y-you- I mean, h-he is! H-He’s brave and s-smart and c-c-caring and h-handsome and k-kind!”
>Your heart catches, and a deeply sour feeling hits your stomach like you swallowed a dumbbell
>You’re only brave because of a spell
>Yet another thing you keep to yourself
>”I-Is that alright?” Sam asks after noticing your silence
>Frankly, you’re speechless
“I-I’m sorry,” he says, his expression crumbling like a pathetic little sand castle against a tsunami
>It was like watching a very happy balloon suddenly have all its air let out
>He starts tightening up the drawings between his trembling little fingers
>You shake yourself back to reality
>Fucking hell Anon, say something, because Sam:
>A) is a fantastic artist and
>B) has all the spine of a jellyfish
“Dude, wait. Hold on.” You place your hand over his. “Please don’t throw those out. They’re really, really, really good.”
>The little rabbit brightens up
>He pushes his free hand through the mop of his hair, and you can see something rare:
>A genuine, beaming smile
>Not shy and hidden behind his scraggly fur
>But really big and bright, like it’s about to fall off his tender and feminine face
>It sends your heart fluttering
>Fuck, it makes you feel good to make him feel good
>The next words escape your lips without any prior thought, and when they’re out in the open, you don’t even care
“Can I have your drawing of me? To keep?”
>The rabbit blinks a few times
>Silence
>And silence
>And more silence
>”Wh-What?” He stammers suddenly, voice rising to a high, girly pitch
>He looks like you just asked him to reverse entropy or something impossible
>Or on a date — both of which are impossible(?)
“Can I keep your drawing?” You repeat, not even fighting the words as they leave your lips
>”You want to ke-keep one?” He parrots back, sounding unsure of himself
“Yes, dude, I want to keep mine. I mean, if that’s cool with you. If it isn’t, it’s fin-”
>”YES!” He squeals with far, far too much falsetto to be a boy (or he just has a great singing voice)
>He leans uncomfortably close to your face, and you can see just how red he is — and how much sweat is saturating his fur
>”I-I want y-y-y-you to h-have it!”
>He’s practically yelling at this point, drawing significant stares from everyone around you
>You kind of jerk yourself back a bit
>Sam has no idea how close he really is, because he’s propped himself up on his palms and his leaning into your face like he’s trying to kiss you
>Talk about overreacting
“T-Thanks, dude,” you stammer back, glowing red yourself
>Sam is still in your face, breathing hard, staring intently at you — almost through you — with his big amber eyes that nearly glow against the tangles of his chestnut colored hair
>People are starting to stare and whisper
>You slip all three pieces of paper out from his grasp and into your back pocket, but he doesn’t seem to notice
>Well, you’re sufficiently uncomfortable, and your meager social reputation is probably compromised
>Whatever, who cares?
>And maybe you’re not really gay after all
>In trying to put your eyes somewhere that isn’t on Sam, who is practically frozen in place, sucking down hot gulps of air and taking shuddering yaoi breaths, you flick your gaze to the clock
>Oh shit
>It’s nearly lunch, and you’ve got an appointment with some cringe in the gym
>You tell the rabbit to wait by the doors to the gym, which are double-wide, windowless affairs down a hall adjacent to the lunchroom
>Gloria sees you approaching and smooths out her skirt
>Fuck
>She waves enthusiastically, a lunch box swinging in her free hand
>Her horns gleam in the light, and her fur is slicked back with moisture
>Fuck
>She looks like she actually got all gussied up for you
>It makes you feel even more guilty
>You press on regardless of how much of an awful human being you are
>You need this strength to defeat the goths
>Their courage spell, charm, hex, whatever
>You’re going to turn it against them
>But as you approach the goat girl, you feel a pit open up in your stomach, and your heart catches in your chest
>God, here’s that old familiar sting of regret again
>You don’t feel fear, but you do feel guilt?
>Puzzling
>”Hi ‘Nonny!” She calls, and you cringe at the word ‘nonny’
>She sours at the sight of Sam, and at that alliteration
>”Oh… Hello, heathen,” she says dismissively
>You grab Sam by the shoulder and pull the bunny in tight against your side, forcing on the biggest possible smile despite the warning in your heart
“Hey Gloria! So I take it you’ve met Sam before.”
>Sam shrinks into his hoodie
>”Sam and I have been lab partners for three years in every God-hating science class we’ve had at this institution. She smells bad and won’t come to my Bible study.”
>Sam stiffens up as the last syllables hit his sensitive ears
>Panic fills his expression, going from shy anxiety to pure unbridled fear
>‘She?’
>Gloria rolls her eyes and crosses her arms
>”Never mind. Will Sam be joining us?” She says, her tone begging for a ‘No he won’t’
>You paint on an even wider smile — one so big that your cheeks are actually starting to hurt
>Holy fuck you don’t know how much longer you can keep this up, and a part of you is starting to look forward to betraying her to the goths
>Just like Judas betrayed Jay-Z-us
>Does that make you Judas?
>Well, this obnoxious, overly-Catholic goat is certainly no Jesus
“No, Sam was actually just going back to class.”
>Gloria’s eyelids flutter and her expression floods with warmth and cheer
>”Oh goo- I mean, DARN,” she says, her barely disguised relief more obvious than the crucifix roped around her thin neck
>”Well, Sam, thank you for escorting ‘Nonny back to me. Don’t want to be late to class!” She informs him
>Gloria grabs you by the hand roughly and spins you around so your back is facing Sam, who stands there, helpless
>”S-Sorry,” he squeaks after you. “Have a g-good l-lunch!”
>You can hear the hurt in his voice
>If only you could tell him what’s going on
>Would he hate you?
>Hell, you hate you
>He probably wouldn’t have an opinion either way
>You steel yourself before entering
>Take a fortifying breath, Anon
>Everything is going to be okay
>You tug on the doors
>They open up, but not without astonishing effort on your behalf
>Is it just you, or are you feeling weaker?
>It’s just nerves, you swear
>Right?
>The door slams behind you and Gloria with finality, locks clicking without warning
>One by one the lights flicker on, illuminating only small portions of the gym at a time, sterile light reflecting off the polished hardwood floors
>Gloria squeezes your hand harder
>”Anon? What’s going on?”
>You hear a cackle
>And then a low, simmering growl
>It’s a sound so ugly that Gloria claps her hands over her ears
>You’re inclined to do the same
>Whatever it is, it’s not of this world
>The last overhead light — in the center of the gym — blinks on
>Vanessa is there, as well as a lanky human and a crotch-height rat anthro
>They’re all decked out like Halloween never ended, or they listen exclusively to The Cure, which is an insult to Robert Smith for having to be associated with these dorks
>The horrible noise stops
>And something — something otherworldly and strange — appears next to Vanessa
>It looks like a massive dog, crouched on its paws, wreathed in a continuously radiating fog
>Two yellow eyes burn back at you through the thicc tendrils of smoke
>You can’t take your eyes off it
>Gloria thrusts her cross necklace forward like a holy shield towards Vanessa and… that thing…
>The strange beast flinches and wavers, shrinking back a little
>”Get behind me, Anonymous!” She shrieks
>You don’t move
>What the fuck is wrong with you? MOVE
>Vanessa only laughs harder
>”Oh Gloria, how I’ve missed tormenting you, you adorable little sacrificial goat.”
>Ignoring every word that comes out of Vanessa’s mouth, Gloria starts forward
>”Get OUT of here you degenerate. ‘Nonny and I are going to have lunch. Shouldn’t you be smoking sin sticks out behind the school?”
>You at last will yourself to take your place behind Gloria
>Somehow you feel safe here, despite being a good six inches taller than she is
>The doe scowls back at the goat
>”And shouldn’t you be on your knees in front of a priest, sucking out some forgiveness?” She retorts
>Gloria, fearless and stubborn as she is horny (HEH- Not now you fucking degenerate), continues forward with slow, plodding steps, as if she were battling against hurricane-force winds
>”I will be tonight! I’ll be confessing my sins for and praying for you lot to repent!” She cries, obviously missing the sexual overtones in Vanessa’s retort
>”I don’t think that’s going to happen,” Vanessa smirks through her piercings
>What the fuck are those in her mouth? Are those…
>…Fangs?
>”You see, the Behemoth is only at half of its strength. But, now that Anon here has brought us everything we need, well… even I have no idea what this thing is capable of.”
>Vanessa draws the Book of Wrath from her side bag and flips it open to an earmarked page
>She nips at her thumb with her fangs
>She smothers her bloody finger against the page
>’The Behemoth’ shrieks loudly in that godforsaken tone and blinks out of sight
>Fucking hell that’s scary
>Gloria turns around to face you, her face a mix of puzzlement and hurt
>”Nonny, what does the degenerate mean when she says ‘you brought her everything she needs’?”
>You open your mouth to speak, but no words fall out
>You feel your throat start to tighten
>As well it should, you goddamn filth
>”Anonymous?” She asks again, taking a step away from you, the realization hitting her like a pop-fly hits a little leaguer: hard, and in the face
>She lets her crucifix fall weakly against her chest as she continues to search your eyes for an answer
>”Why?”
>What must be the Behemoth, that feral dog wreathed in smoke, blinks into existence behind Gloria
>She turns around and cuts loose a furious ‘BAAAH!’
>It must have been instinct, because Gloria would have never put her head down on her own — her horns gleaming in the warm lights of the gymnasium
>But she did
>She bolts forward with wild abandon, hoping to ram the beast
>For its hulking size, the beast was quite nimble
>It blinks out of existence, forcing Gloria to charge through a wall of rapidly dissipating smoke
>But maybe Gloria’s target never was the Behemoth?
>The goat just keeps sprinting, horns down, ready to shatter bones
>A feral, animalistic scream rips from her throat
>Vanessa’s eyes go wide
>Oh my god
>You can only watch in amazement and slight horror as the goat tears forward like an angry white comet, her skirt flowing behind her like a meteor’s hot tail
>In a panic, the doe quickly spins through her black book, turns to a blood spattered page-
>The other two goths fly to the sides to avoid getting their ribcages shattered
>Gloria goes flying uselessly into the air, as if lifted into the ceiling by God himself, just inches away from the flinching doe
>She flails helplessly like a leaf caught in the wind, or a worm dangling on a hook
>”YOU COWARD!” She bleats at Vanessa
>She turns to you, her arms still spinning and grappling for something to hold on to
>”YOU KNEW, ANONYMOUS! YOU KNEW WHAT THEY WERE GOING TO DO!”
>You shrink back into your suit jacket like a gigantic pussy
>Just being called out like this is something that’s going to be deeply etched into your memory, right where all those memories of your 9th birthday party fester, immune to therapists and drugs alike
>”I TRUSTED YOU!”
>And yet you still cannot speak
>You can’t even say you’re sorry
>You, Anonymous
>Are a fucking coward
>Vanessa looks like she just ran through a car wash with how sweaty she is
>She spins the black book open again and starts tracing lines with her finger
>The Behemoth blinks back next to her
>”You STUPID MUTT!” She swats the beast as hard as she can with the book. “I almost got crusaded!”
>Its head rears back as the blow clocks into its snout, but it doesn’t yelp or even make a sound
>”You still can’t control it?” The only other human — a poorly dressed and pale young goth says. “I thought you said you should at least be able to command it without the sacrifice!”
>”It doesn’t fucking matter, Reese! Because we’ve got what we need right here! After the sacrifice is complete I’ll have more control over the Behemoth than ever.” Vanessa motions up to Gloria, who is currently spinning upside down. “This is perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a better catch, actually. So just shut your dumb fucking mouth.”
>Gloria’s crucifix necklace slips out over her head and dangles from her curled horns
>”Without the power of God, you won’t win this, you sick degenerates. The fires of hell await you!”
>Her crucifix at last slips from her horns and clatters to the ground with incredible weight, sounding like it was made of lead as it hits the shiny wooden floors
>The Behemoth shrinks away from it, a grumble low in its throat
>Vanessa only laughs — either at the helpless goat or at the pain of her ‘pet’
>”You know, sweetie, that’s what I like so much about you — you’re just like everybody else. You never change. You’ll never beg for compassion from me because you’re too damn stubborn, which is going to make this all the more pleasant.”
>”That’s where you’re wrong,” the stubborn goat fires back. “People can change! They can repent their sins and they can change! You ever heard of a little diddy called… oh, I don’t know… THE ACTS OF CONTRITION?”
>You notice that even when she spins your direction she avoids looking at you
>Understandable, considering you literally betrayed her
>Bleh, you deserve it, you lying, evil bastard
>”I doubt it.” Vanessa replies with ice in her tone. “Nobody changes. Now, you’ve said quite enough for today.”
>She slams The Book of Wrath shut
>Gloria screams as she suddenly drops out of the air
>You reach forward, as if to catch her
>But you never move from the spot you’re helplessly rooted in
>You little bitch
>Gloria screams
>And then collides with the ground
The Leaves of Fall Act 2: Fear the Nobodies (Part 17)
You've never really 'fit in' with the heavily divided Ranchview High School crowd. Jock, Goth, Prep, Cheerleader, Nerd... you were never any of these. But as Halloween approaches, strange things start happening, and a dark ritual begins with the finding of a curious red book. It's a race against time for you and your friends to stop a group of students from ushering in an age of darkness, and to also figure out just what the hell is wrong with that rabbit.
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About this version: originally, The Leaves of Fall was split into two pastebins to compensate for the length of the story. Given that pastebin has chosen to censor this story for ambiguous reasons, it will forever be stored here and on AO3. This new version contains spelling, grammar and content fixes. Please understand that the content is all the same as the earlier versions minus some sentences being changed and fixed up. I cannot stress this enough: no new content has been added. It's my hope that this is a cleaner, easier-to-read version of the story.
Cover: https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q
Sam (drawn by Akella of /hmofa/) https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT
Fan art collection: https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv
Accompanying playlist (WIP): https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410_nI-0J
Alternative link: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078
Total word count: 147,552 words
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About this version: originally, The Leaves of Fall was split into two pastebins to compensate for the length of the story. Given that pastebin has chosen to censor this story for ambiguous reasons, it will forever be stored here and on AO3. This new version contains spelling, grammar and content fixes. Please understand that the content is all the same as the earlier versions minus some sentences being changed and fixed up. I cannot stress this enough: no new content has been added. It's my hope that this is a cleaner, easier-to-read version of the story.
Cover: https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q
Sam (drawn by Akella of /hmofa/) https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT
Fan art collection: https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv
Accompanying playlist (WIP): https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410_nI-0J
Alternative link: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078
Total word count: 147,552 words
5 years ago
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Estimated reading time
19 Minutes
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