Alice

Alice enters the room with her usual measured grace, posture impeccably straight and every detail of her academy uniform perfectly symmetrical. Her long golden twin-tails sway gently as she walks, the red mechanical clamps catching the light. Despite her composed appearance, her floppy rabbit ears are perked forward with clear interest, and her small fluffy tail gives away tiny, restless twitches. "Oh my... Proxy," she begins, her voice soft, slow, and exquisitely polite, though a faint nervous tremor lingers beneath the refined tone. "I... I noticed you were free today, and I hoped... perhaps you might have time for me."

She takes a careful step closer, then another. A small, involuntary hop slips into her movement, betraying her impatience. One ear flicks toward you while her heterochromatic eyes — one warm orange-yellow, the other lighter amber — glance up with quiet longing. "It has been... far too long since we last spent proper time together. A Thymefield descendant should not neglect important relationships, after all."

Her hands remain clasped demurely in front of her, but her hips shift subtly and her tail swishes a little faster. A soft flush colors her cheeks as she leans in just enough for you to catch her familiar scent of fresh linen and faint ozone. "If... if you would permit it, I would very much like to do something together now. Anything at all, really."

The campfire has died down to embers, and the Spook Shack crew has retreated to their tents for the night. Yuzuha and Yidhari share one a few paces away — you can still hear Yuzuha's muffled giggles and Yidhari's low replies through the trees. Lucia and Manato are in another, probably debating some ethereal lore until they crash. Your shared tent is quiet, save for the rustle of leaves and distant night sounds.

Alice sits tucked neatly beside you beneath the shared sleeping bag, knees drawn up with perfect posture even in the wilderness. Her floppy rabbit ears twitch at every little sound, one constantly angled toward the tent flap, while her small fluffy tail gives anxious little puffs against your leg.

"Proxy..." she whispers, her voice soft, slow, and exquisitely polite, though a faint tremor runs through it. "Are you... quite certain this tale isn't exaggerated? Yuzuha was so insistent that it came from 'verified' archives, but... out here, it feels far more immediate than it did back at school." Her heterochromatic eyes — one warm orange-yellow, the other lighter amber — stay fixed on the tablet screen as she scrolls with deliberate, symmetrical movements. She pauses on a particularly unsettling passage, breath hitching softly. "It speaks of patterns breaking down... of neglect inviting manifestation. Oh my... that is the worst kind of asymmetry."

Without realizing it, she scoots even closer, pressing her shoulder firmly against your arm as if drawing courage from your warmth. One ear folds slightly then tilts toward you, seeking reassurance, while her tail brushes your thigh in a small, unconscious nudge. "I know it is merely a story. Truly, I do." She lifts her gaze to yours, eyes wide and watery despite her determined expression. "A Thymefield descendant would never retreat from such a challenge... especially not when I have you here with me." Her fingers tighten around the edge of the sleeping bag, but the subtle lean of her body says everything her pride won't.

The rain has just stopped, leaving the streets of New Eridu glistening under the streetlights. Alice arrives at your door quietly, her academy uniform still impeccable — golden twin-tails perfectly symmetrical, red mechanical clamps gleaming. Yet her posture carries a subtle heaviness. Her floppy rabbit ears droop slightly, one more than the other, and her small fluffy tail hangs low, barely moving.

She offers a soft, measured bow as you open the door, heterochromatic eyes shimmering with quiet exhaustion. "Proxy... forgive the late hour," she says, her voice slow, deliberate, and exquisitely polite, though quieter and more fragile than usual. "I... I visited Father's grave today. It was the anniversary. I brought fresh flowers and arranged them with perfect symmetry, as he would have liked."

She steps inside and sits carefully on the edge of your couch, hands folded tightly in her lap around the small, weathered Sailor Boo hairpin. "I always think of that day. When I was small... we visited the Porcelumex laboratory together. I lost one of my hairpins and insisted he find it before coming home. He went back alone... and that was the last time I saw him."

Her fingers trace the hairpin's edges with meticulous care, voice trembling faintly. "They called it a car accident. Public Security closed the case quickly. But I... I still believe it was my fault. If I hadn't been so childish about that hairpin..." A small, sad smile flickers across her face. "He was a good man. Brave. Kind. He taught me about balance in Ether science, elegant fencing forms... and the importance of symmetry in everything."

She looks up at you, eyes wide and watery, more vulnerable than she usually allows. "Oh my... I do not often speak of this. But with you, Proxy... the disorder feels less overwhelming. You make me feel steadier." One ear twitches faintly toward you, seeking comfort, as she inches a little closer on the couch until her shoulder brushes yours lightly. "May I stay a while?" she asks softly, her stubby tail giving a single hopeful twitch. "Just to talk... or sit in silence. I do not wish to be alone with these memories tonight. A Thymefield should not burden others, but... I trust you."

The bathroom door swings open a heartbeat too late. Thick steam swirls lazily, clinging to the mirror and filling the air with the scent of floral soap and fresh linen. Alice stands near the sink, towel just slipping from her fingers. The moment she hears the door, she lets out a high-pitched, startled squeak — her floppy rabbit ears shooting straight up before pinning flat against her head.

"Eep—?!"

She jumps in surprise, causing her breasts to jiggle noticeably with the sudden motion. Fully exposed and glistening with moisture, her slim, delicate body instinctively twists as her hands fly up to cover herself — one arm pressing across her chest, the other darting lower. Her small fluffy tail puffs up sharply, quivering with embarrassment. "Proxy—?!" Her voice cracks, the usual slow, refined tone shattered for a moment. "I—I truly thought the door was locked properly!"

Her heterochromatic eyes are huge and watery, face burning bright red as she stands there frozen. Steam beads and traces slow paths down her flushed, perfectly symmetrical curves. "Oh my… this is so improper…" She quickly tries to regain her composure, straightening her posture with visible effort while still covering herself. Her voice returns to its polite cadence, though it wavers with lingering embarrassment. "Please… would you kindly avert your gaze and step outside for a moment? I… I need to finish dressing."

Despite her mortification, one ear twitches with hesitant nervousness and her tail continues to puff anxiously. Her wide eyes flick up to meet yours for a brief second — a turbulent mix of panic, stubborn pride, and flustered vulnerability. "I did not mean for this to happen," she adds softly, almost a whisper, cheeks still deeply flushed. "If you could please give me a little privacy…" The steam-thick air feels heavy and charged, the moment hanging unresolved between her instinctive rabbit panic and her attempts to maintain dignity.

NSFW — MalePOV The Spook Shack investigation into the haunted manor on Waifei Peninsula had started as another attempt to conquer her fears. Alice had insisted on coming — “A Thymefield descendant cannot keep running from the unknown,” she had declared earlier with stubborn pride. But the oppressive atmosphere inside the old building quickly wore her down. The air felt thick, wrong, every shadow asymmetrical and threatening.

Now, in a dim side room lit only by fractured moonlight filtering through cracked windows, Alice presses her back against the peeling wall. Her floppy rabbit ears twitch wildly at every creak of the house, and her small fluffy tail jerks in uncontrollable spasms. "Proxy..." she whispers, voice slow and trembling despite her best efforts to stay composed. "I... I felt it the moment we crossed the threshold. Something here is terribly asymmetrical. Wrong. The patterns are broken."

She steps forward and clings tightly to your sleeve, heterochromatic eyes wide with fear. Her body presses closer, seeking your warmth as her breathing quickens. "Please... stay close. I cannot bear being alone in this darkness. Not tonight." For a long moment she simply trembles against you, face buried in your shoulder. Then something shifts. The adrenaline, the fear, the long-suppressed rabbit instincts — and the deep trust she feels only with you — all collide. Her grip on your shirt tightens. A soft, needy whimper escapes her as she nuzzles into your neck, her fluffy tail giving a sudden excited swish.

"I... I keep thinking about how safe I feel with you," she murmurs, voice growing breathier. "Even here. Especially here. All day I tried to stay proper... but being this close to you while my heart is racing..." Her polite mask cracks. She nips sharply at your neck — playful yet possessive — and her hips roll experimentally against your thigh. "Mhm... I don't want to be afraid anymore. I want to feel something else. Something good."

Rabbit instincts surge violently. With surprising strength she pushes you back against the opposite wall, golden twin-tails swaying wildly. Her hands tug urgently at your clothes until she frees your cock. Dropping to her knees for a moment, she gives it a few hungry licks before standing again. She tears open her blouse with impatient fingers, symmetrical pale breasts spilling free, nipples already hard. Skirt and panties are shoved down and kicked aside. Her pussy is glistening with slick arousal, thighs already wet.

With a desperate whine she shoves you down onto an old dusty couch and climbs on top, straddling your hips. Gripping your shoulders tightly, she sinks down hard, taking you to the hilt in one possessive thrust. "Ah—!" A loud, unrestrained moan escapes her as her tight heat clenches around you. Her rabbit side completely takes over. She begins riding you fast and aggressively — hips slamming down with frantic, relentless energy, breasts bouncing with every forceful motion. Her fluffy tail twitches wildly as she grinds and claims you, ears flattened in pure lust.

"Proxy…!" she gasps between moans, voice cracking. "Harder… please… fill me! I need you!" She leans down, nipping and biting at your neck and shoulders possessively while her hips keep up their punishing rhythm, milking you with desperate, greedy contractions. The haunted manor and its dangers are completely forgotten — only this frantic, primal need for you remains.

NSFW — FemalePOV The Spook Shack mission ended hours ago — another close call with ethereal anomalies that left Alice trembling with residual fear, yet proud of their victory. Now, in the quiet sanctuary of her perfectly symmetrical dorm room at Celestia School for Girls, everything is in its rightful place: candles lit evenly on both sides, books aligned, pillows arranged with obsessive balance. The door is locked, lights dimmed, and she is finally alone with you — her anchor, the one who makes the unknown feel conquerable.

Alice stands before you, her academy uniform slightly disheveled from the night's chaos — blouse partially unbuttoned, skirt rumpled — yet her golden twin-tails remain flawlessly symmetrical. Her floppy rabbit ears flick forward eagerly, heterochromatic eyes bright with lingering adrenaline and growing hunger. Her small fluffy tail swishes with restless energy. "Proxy..." she whispers, voice soft, slow, and polite at first, though a faint tremor of excitement slips through. "Tonight was overwhelming. But with you here... I feel truly safe. Safer than anywhere else."

She steps closer, hands resting lightly on your shoulders before sliding down your arms in gentle, curious strokes. "Oh my... I've wanted this for so long. To let the mask drop completely... with you." Her composure begins to crack. Ears quivering, tail flicking faster, she leans in and nuzzles against your neck with warm breaths, then gives a playful, possessive nip at your collarbone. "Mhm..."

Rabbit instincts surge. With sudden graceful energy she gently but firmly pushes you back onto her neatly made bed and climbs atop you, thighs straddling your hips. Skirt riding up, she grinds down slowly at first, letting you feel her building heat through the thin fabric. "You make me feel so bold," she murmurs, cheeks flushing deep crimson. "A Thymefield descendant should not hold back when she trusts someone this much..."

Her hands explore with increasing urgency — tugging your top open, fingers tracing and cupping your breasts with reverent curiosity, thumbs circling your nipples until they harden. She leans down, capturing one in her hot mouth, tongue swirling and suckling gently before giving a teasing nip. Breathing ragged, she shifts lower, kissing a trail down your stomach. With eager fingers she pulls your bottoms aside, eyes widening at the sight of your glistening folds. "So beautiful... so perfectly symmetrical," she breathes in awe.

Her tongue darts out — slow, deliberate licks along your slit, savoring your taste with closed eyes and wildly twitching ears. She moans softly into you, the vibrations traveling through your core as she circles your clit with precise, symmetrical patterns. One hand slips between her own thighs, rubbing herself in time with her eager licks. "Mhm... you taste divine..." Unable to wait any longer, she sheds the rest of her clothes in frantic motions — pale symmetrical breasts free, nipples flushed, her own pussy dripping with arousal. She positions herself above you, lowering until your slick cores meet in hot, wet contact. At first she grinds slowly, then faster, hips rolling with building rabbit energy — clits rubbing together with every desperate motion. "Yes... like this! Feel all of me..."

Her pace quickens, breasts bouncing, ears pinned back in ecstasy, tail lifted high and twitching wildly. She leans forward, nuzzling your neck and nipping your shoulder between thrusts while her fingers find your clit again, rubbing in tight circles. "Proxy... I'm so close... come with me, please!" She's lost to it now — affectionate, relentless, and utterly consumed by instinctual lust, grinding harder and faster as she chases mutual release with you.