#Orignal Fiction

[growingstoriesandgardens]

Under The Arbor

A short story, First Part coming January 2024.

All fox cubs leaves their mothers den eventually. They set out out, and become their own hunter, den builder and protecter. Providing for themselves and if blessed, eventually kits of their own before sending them out on the same journey. The forest can be scary to new residents but full of potenal for young yearling foxes making a place of their own. Fall Leaf is so sure of being ready. But how much her certeintly will be tested is yet to be discovered as winters frost creeps in around her.

[andyfire122]

Fictober24 day 23 "We can fix this, I know we can."

Sarah just took Aki by the hand and guided her to their couch. Today had been a very eventful one. There hadn't been an incident that required her to have a meeting in heaven in almost 150 years. Then, all of a sudden, she was called to talk with arch angles of all things.

They never asked her to do anything unless it was bad. The perks of being an unregistered half-breed. When they have a task they need to do, and they can't do it being bound by ancient celestial powers. They turn to all half-breeds.

It's why a lot of those are born just to do something specific.

"Hey, it's alright. You can calm your fussing." She was just sitting with Aki at this point.

Even though they allowed our relationship, it was something a lot of them judged her for. That's not for them to decide. She can protect me even after choosing to love me.

Aki just looked at Sarah with fear and uncertainty. "You were just asked to take on something that could be devastating for the world. That isn't something to send one person."

"An entire person was written out of the world's history. Well, according to them it's more like the side effect would have had this written off as a death. Though I'm no detective." Sarah was trying to play off how vague the assignment was.

It wouldn't have been caught so soon by the heavenly host if whoever was taken out of their path didn't affect entire groups of people.

Aki just takes Sarah’s hands and holds one to her face. “I just don’t want them to take you as well. Your impact is still so important. Even if it’s just because I know you.”

She did say that with zero hesitation.

"I would agree with you, but they made a point. It did start with my mother. The heavenly host put all responsibility for what she did on me." Her mother lost her sanity after her birth. After so many years, she's had less resentment of that judgment.

I have thoughts on this. They are lovely thoughts. However, right now there are more important things than thinking too hard on the dead.

“We’ll fix this, I know we can. Then we can go eat as many pastries as you want.”

Before Aki could pout at that comment, Sarah turned her back to the angel and let her wings emerge. This entire gesture always left the redhead speechless. The downside was that Sarah never got to see her expression from it.

Her wings were precious to her. As a child, Sarah lost her original pair of wings. She got them back in a very painful ritual. That just made her value her wings even more. The joy of flying was one of the biggest moments in her 200 or so years of living.

To ask someone to preen her wings was putting trust that they would be taken care of. Before Aki returned to her, she would occasionally ask the demon Eric to help her preen. Though now there is only one person she would ask.

We both need to calm down with something like this. Besides..she always loved my feathers.

"Alright, but I promise you, Sarah. I won't leave again once this is done. I know you didn't have any anger about what happened the last time, but It's just me wanting you to be with me. Happy and smiling always suited you."

Sarah just smiles as she closes her eyes relaxing as her wings get preened. "Do you think I would be willing to let you go after I just got you again? My rainbow to add sun to my life."

[bedrockfactory]

Tried to design a different outfit for her

[notice-how]

What am I most scared of?

Her smile 

The way her cheeks shine every time she smiles 

Those cheeks make me happy 

They make me anxious 

Why anxious? Idk that maybe one day will come when she doesn't like me anymore? Idk that I might do something to catalyze the very thing I'm most afraid of? .

I asked her “what are u most afraid of?”

She replies - “darkness” 

She’s afraid of darkness 

I find her interesting 

I'm obsessed 

I tell her that from time to time 

But the catch is ppl can be blind sometimes 

This is a very generalized statement but i think if I keep showing how much I'm obsessed 

A day might come when she might not need me anymore 

She might not feel the same obsession 

She might have a reason to not feel the same 

My feelings? They’re intense 

Why do I write this? 

I heard that it's a good way to dissolve anxiety 

Remember how she said that she’s most afraid of darkness? 

Well let me say this “I am too, I am scared of the dark” but my dark is a bit different, dark as per norms is the nothing, no control, no stimulus ,just….nothing.

Heck even Schrödinger said that if there’s no observer present to observe an entity, that entity doesn't even EXIST? as absurd as this sounds but this is true 

At least on a quantum level.

Let's jump back to what type of dark I am scared of, darkness for me is every second spent without :

talking to her 

Looking at her 

Listen all her yapping 

Getting lost in those eyes of her 

Observing every little detail about her 

Everytime i get to play with her hair 

This is light for me 

This is vision to my eyes 

Waves to my ears 

Pressure to my skin 

Ions to my olfactory receptors 

Taste to my tongue

So if darkness is absence of external stimulus to our senses then yes every second i spend without her is darkness for me.

This is what I'm most scared of .

This is fear and this is my anxiety.

[cb-writes-stuff]

Project Opal Masterpost

It finally exists! This will be updated frequently, whenever I post a new thing that should go on here. If something is red, then that means it’s coming soon.

What is Project Opal about?

Snippets

1: Opening scene

Loredumps and Worldbuilding

On Kem lon-Dalan; architecture in the Living District (it’s below the cut)

What do people eat in Kem lon-Dalan?

What landmarks are in Kem lon-Dalan?

How do I come up with words for Vandeth?

Keitalen, Geitalen; How Time is Measured in the Vandeth Desert

How are the Kemen governed? And what are the laws like?

What are the Gilded Palm and Enveil’s Company?

Map of Kem lon-Dalan

Religion in Project Opal, Part 1

Religion in Project Opal, Part 2

Religion in Project Opal, Part 3

Vandeth words for family members

Facts about Veuketzlind

Other Fun Things

Character sketches

Nauth character bio

Ven character bio

Lynn character bio

Mela character bio

Elvi character bio

Elial character bio

William character bio

Gloria character bio

Sils character bio

(Not related to Project Opal) Khione and Lila loredump

What are my inspirations for Project Opal?

What do the characters think of their bosses?

Progress Updates

Too many to list here. They have tiny bits of stuff I wrote, though, so maybe you wanted to go through them. You can find (hopefully) most of them here.

[elfboyeros]

Grimhaven

"Welcome to Grimhaven"

In West Alexandria's capital city, there is the Grimhaven Agency! An outsourcing arm of the government that trains, hires, and sends out Grotesquerie Hunters to protect Willowcrest citizens from the monsters that hunt and harm them

Ah, the first chapter of Grimhaven, this story is supposed more "relaxed". I just trying to have fun with it (I say as if I don't have fun with my other stuff) Things may not contact or make much sense but that's because it's not suppose to lol. Please enjoy. Read about all my nerds and junk

Grotesqueries

Rabid animals in want of human blood, demons of flesh and bone, for as long as one can remember monsters have infected the world along with the human race. In a modern age, one need not worry about leaving the homestand and dying instantly. However cannibalistic monsters far too similar to humans still hide in the shadows waiting for the time to feed.

Little blue, squinted eyes stare up at a tubular building resembling a large, tall office building covered in tinted windows in the middle of a bustling city. A black-haired, ivory-skinned man stands on the sidewalk, in a long sand-colored trench coat, black turtleneck, black slacks, and black shoes. His face displays a clear look of disdain while looking upon the building in front of him.

“Mr. Otto! Hemlock Otto!”

His name comes from a rather posh feminine voice in front of him. Taking his eyes off the building, he sees the vision of an elderly white woman dressed in a long, light lime-colored skirt and a rather vintage-looking blouse. Cane in hand, she sweeps the ground in front of her as she walks, fading green hair up, with bangs swooping to one side of her face.

“You have to speak, boy, or I don’t know where you are!” she says in a stern tone.

“I’m here ma’am,” Hemlock replies, moving closer to her so doesn’t walk too far into the sidewalk, her cane smacking the side of his shoes before stating calmly, “I’m in front of you.”

She smiles letting out a light chuckle. “Very good!”

He can see the scarring over her eyes, now closer to her. If he had to guess, she was burned with acid years ago. “With all due respect ma’am, I—”

“Shush now! I don’t want to hear about this “I work alone, this system isn’t for me.” This is for your benefit, sir, do not get arrested!” she interrupted, “Now come!”

 “Mrs. Whitlock,” Hemlock exclaims as the older woman swiftly turns around and walks back into the building. He follows.

She leads him through the automatic doors, into a barren first level of an office building. If this is supposed to be the great agency of hunters in the city, it looks like pure shit, with its pale walls, willing plants, large, tinted windows, and uncomfortable-looking couches.

“Mrs. Whitlock it is quiet—”

“Pay this no mind! It is simply a cover, a safety between the real world and us.” She remarks, “And enough with the formalities! Call me Granny Gwyn!”

As Gwyndolyn and Hemlock walked through, two young individuals stood off to the side watching them. A woman with duel-colored hair, blonde on the left and pistachio green on the right, bisque skin, and pale olive eyes. Wearing an oversized neutral-colored sweater, a pleated skirt, stockings that matched her skin color, and tall-heeled boots. Next to her was a man, clearly related to her, given their shared skin tone and eye color only he’s hair is blonde. He wears an acid green beret matching the accents on his light brown oversized cotton vest that overlays a cream button-up shirt tucked into his brown slacks that barely reach his dark brown dress shoes.  

“This is our punishment,” the man sighed.

“It’s not a punishment, Caelyn,” the woman replied.

“The craziest vigilante in the Willowcrest inducted into the agency, and put under your care—”

“Most, if not all, of the GGHs are “under my care”, he’s not going to be any different.”

“Blythe—”

“I don’t know why you are so worried,” Blythe scoffs. Heading for the stairs. “You don’t even work here.”

“But I do live here, and you’re my sister!” Caelyn exclaims, following after her.

Hemlock presses the elevator call button before stating, “Mrs. Gwyndolyn, I have very little faith that this becoming a GGH will make much of a difference for me.”

“Yet, it will keep you from going to jail for Five years!” Gwyndolyn declares as the elevator dings before the doors open. “We are starting to floor seven, son.”

Hemlock observes the many buttons on the display. There are 5 floors below and 64 above. “I have no need to show you the basement floors, our forensics lab, our garage, and some other department that lives down there, places I doubt would be of any interest to you,” Gwyndolyn comments.

Hemlock shrugs, “I wouldn’t mind seeing the garage at some point. If I have to work here for the rest of my career.”

“You like cars?”

“Motorcycles,” Hemlock simply replies, “but I also like cars.”

“My husband loves motorcycles.” Gwyndolyn coos softly before the elevator opens.

The two steps out in the small area hosting the elevators, soft warm natural-colored walls reminded Hemlock of the old childhood memories of Hemlock going to the family doctor with his mother.

“I’ll have you meet the secretary. I know you; hunters feel a center way about offices and desks, but if you need an office one can be provided to you, and it will be on this floor,” Gwendolyn explains as she and Hemlock walk down the hallway.

Hemlock hums before stopping at a door in about the middle of the hallway. A dark door with a placard reading secretary. After smacking her cane on the bottom of the door the bottom of the door, the same blonde man with an acid green hat who had been watching them before, opens it.

“Hi granny,” Caelyn says with a smile.

“Is your sister in?” Gwyndolyn asks as she enters, Hemlock slowly entering behind her.

Cream-colored walls, walnut-colored furniture, black filing cabins, a large neatly cluttered desk in the center, a nice cream couch against the wall next to the desk with a green quilt hanging off the back of it, and pictures and degrees on the wall.

“I’m right here granny,” A Blythe remarks standing up from squatting down to get into the bottom drawer in a filing cabinet. Looking up from the thick file in hand, the duel-haired young woman smiles at the sight of Gwyndolyn and Hemlock, “Welcome to The Grimhaven Agency.”

Hemlock quickly observes many things silently. Everyone in the room talks in a posh manner. Gwyndolyn is the poshest of the three. The young man in the room is not fond of him. The office feels very lived in. The young woman in front of him has a beautiful smile—a smile that pulls locked-away memories of lost love to the front of Hemlock’s mind and gives him the beginnings of a splitting headache.

“I’m Blythe Rosenheim,” Blythe informs sticking a handout for Hemlock to shake.

“Hemlock Otto,” he replies shaking her hand.

“I’ll report to me for most of your needs,” she adds, “assignments, testimonies, excreta.”

Hemlock nods, his mouth open ready to ask the young girl a question before Gwyndolyn taps her cane on the ground, “Alright there is more for you to see,” she comments, heading for the door.

“Have a nice day granny,” Blythe calls as Gwyndolyn and Hemlock leave her office.

“Who was the blonde boy?” Hemlock asks.

“Caelyn,” Gwyndolyn simply replies, “Was he giving you evil looks?”

“He didn’t seem fond of my presence.”  

“Pay him no mind. He is just a little boy angry at the world.”

Hemlock hums as they approach the elevator, he presses the call button and steps into the elevator with Gwyndolyn waiting for her instructions.

“Floor 4, son.”

The older woman leads Hemlock to the many floors, departments, and areas in The Grimhaven Agency building as if he were a dog. The fitness center, the infirmary, the armory, the cafeteria, and even the garage. He was her little pup, chasing after her dress strings as if they were toys, disputes not having an interest in the Grimhaven Agency, and its bureaucracy around the hunter society he had been in since his early 20s. However, he does listen and observe, because the great Hemlock Otto- Willowcrest's most prolific vigilante grotesquerie hunter- would rather die a hunter under the Grimhaven Agency than in a prison cell.

“Alright son,” Gwyndolyn sighs, “You now have freedom to do as you must until 6, unless you have changed your mind about living here.”

“No, Mrs. Gwyndolyn, I have not.”

Gwyndolyn ticks her tongue on the roof of her mouth, “At least call me Mrs. Gwyn, enough of the Gwyndolyn shit.”

“Apologizes, my mother raised me to be polite.”

Gwyndolyn hums, “I hope to hear more about your mother,” she comments before heading off, “Enjoy your first day, son.”

Hemlock watched the older woman toddle away, before getting into the elevator once again to go back up to the seventh floor to Blythe’s office. Knocking on her door, she remarks a soft “Come in.”

Sitting behind a multi-monitor computer, eyebrows raised at Hemlock coming through her door, “You’re not moving in?” she asks.

“I have my own apartment,” he replied.

Blythe hums, “Well, I have nothing for you today. " She explains, “Everything is either taken or occupied. If I had known you weren’t moving in today, I would have called you out.”

Hemlock sighs, “If you would like to stay to see if anything new comes in, you are more than welcome to,” Blythe adds.

He settles on the couch, a hand resting on his cheek. The comforting sounds of Blythe’s fingers hitting the key on the keyboard, the comfortable temperature, and the smell of eucalyptus and green tea lulled him to sleep.

“DREW! DREW!”

“COME ON STAY WITH ME!”

“Hemlock…”

“It’ll be okay, It’ll be okay! I gotcha babe, stay with me!”

“Hemlock…”

“DREW!”

Hemlock bolts up out of his nightmare, with the same blanket on the back of the couch now on his lap as he lays across the small couch, having no recollection of lying on the couch or grabbing the blanket.

He let out a heavy sigh, sitting on the couch properly he rests his elbows on his knees before putting his head in his hands.

“Who are they?” Blythe asks, softly.

“Huh?”

“Who is Drew?” she replies.

Hemlock looked up at her, and she looked at him with a pitiful gaze before he sighed heavily once again, “My girlfriend.”

This silence blankets them. It’s not comfortable, but it’s not awkward; it’s just silent. The room still has a nice temperature, and the smell of eucalyptus and green tea is still in the air. However, it’s fainter than before, and there is no soft tapping of keys on a typeset.

“Go home, Hemlock,” Blythe instructs.

“I’m fin—”

“It’s 6 p.m., go home,” she remarks interrupting him, “I make sure there is something for you first thing tomorrow.”

Hemlock stands, “Have a nice night, Blythe,” he mutters before leaving her office to get back into the elevator for the umpteenth, exit the agency, hop on his motorcycle, and head home.

Entering his apartment, he shrugs off his coat and tosses it on the back of the couch after pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting it while heading to his kitchen.

His apartment is a modern style yet rather sparse of personal objects that would add to a comforting clutter. The only light in his space was from the overhead light above the stove in the kitchen, and the light coming through the large windows.  

Placing a pan on the stovetop, Hemlock pulls a couple of eggs from the fridge. With his nightmare about 15 minutes ago, he knew he couldn’t keep an “actual” dinner down, thus scrambled eggs would do.

While he cooked, sounds could be heard behind him. They were not the normal settling sounds of a building; they were almost inhuman sounds of something approaching him.

His cigarette rests in an ashtray near him, and he transfers his eggs onto a plate. The same inhuman sounds approached him slowly from behind him.

In one swift motion, he takes the hot frying pan he was using and smacks whatever is behind him, hitting something between a solid and a liquid. Hemlock turned around quickly facing a type of creature his is all too familiar with.

Animalistic in both appearance and nature, the creature is almost deer-like with muted colors. Unnaturally long in an uncanny way, very thin with a rib cage that is almost exposed, back hunched in an uncomfortable-looking way. Struggling to stand on the traction-less floor with its pencil-thin legs, it looks at Hemlock with deep soulless eyes that bulged out of their sockets before roaring a loud, screeching roar showing off its many teeth.

A grotesquerie, in his apartment!

“FUCK!” Hemlock shouts, racing out of the kitchen.

Barely making it out into the living area, he is rammed in the back sending him into the hardwood floors of his apartment. The creature gnaws at his legs, his thick pants preventing its sharp teeth from touching Hemlock's skin.

In the past seven years of being a private (and illegal) grotesquerie hunter, Hemlock has never struggled as much as he has now. Yes, normally, he has a weapon, yet the government confiscated any weapons he had in his positions when that finally “caught” him, even though he had legally obtained all the weapons he owned. Yet even with his fist, he can normally do enough to get at least free.

Kicking the grotesquerie in the face with his free foot, getting his leg free, however, the grotesquerie then chopped down on his forearm actually breaking the skin and digging into his skin.

It felt like time was going by so painfully slowly as he kicked at the beast atop him and lay on the floor with the stinging pain of the creature's teeth in his forearm. His front door is then slammed open, smacking into the wall after being taken off its hinges forcibly.

Then a gunshot.

Shot clean between the eyes, the grotesquerie flops into Hemlock's lap. When looking in the direction of the gunshot, “Blythe?!”

Panting in the doorway of his front door was that duel-haired secretary in her oversized sweater and pleaded skirt, with a compact handgun in hand. “You should have agreed to live at Grimhaven,” Blythe huffs.

His pain is too great to come up with a comeback. After Blythe helps him off the floor, they go back to Grimhaven, where he was being doctored by a sanatorium nurse, before reluctantly agreeing with Gwyndolyn that he should live in one of the penthouse apartments in the Grimhaven building. A lack of personal items makes the collection of his things smoother than presumed by those at Grimhaven, allowing Hemlock’s move to take just a day.

“Fuck,” he curses, attempting to pick up one of the large paintings he had in his old apartment.

He can hear a door open across the hallway, turning around swiftly to apologize for the noise he’s making, he lets out a sarcastic little chuckle when his eyes meet Blythe’s.

Leaning against her apartment’s doorframe, a foot resting against her other leg’s calf in a pair of cotton shorts, an oversized sweatshirt with the embroidered text of her alma mater across the chest, and hair clipped up and out of her face.

“Do you need help?” she asks.

“No, I’m fine,” Hemlock muttered, attempting to pick up the painting again, only to lose his grip and have the wooden backing of the canvas slam into the wrapped wound on his arm, “SHIT!”

“Let me help,” Blythe scoffs.

With Blythe on one side of the hefty canvas and Hemlock on the other, the two of them easily placed the painting safely in his apartment. “I’ll figure out where to put it later,” Hemlock muttered.

Blythe hums looking around his living space and seeing all the other paintings already hung up on the walls, “Do you paint?”

“No, these were all made for me,” Hemlock answers.

“Who did them?” Blythe asks, “They’re beautiful.”

“My girlfriend,” he remarks quietly.

Blythe hums once again, “Is she the reason you didn’t want to live here?”

Hemlock doesn’t answer, rather he passes by Blythe to head to the kitchen, “You know she can visit you. She can even live here with you if she wants, this is the safest place in all of Willowcrest, probably even all of West Alexandria—”

“She’s dead,” Hemlock states, making Blythe freeze, “And even if Drew was alive…”

“Hemlock, I’m so sorry,” Blythe gasps.

“Don’t apologize, it’s not like you knew,” Hemlock shrugs, “Unlike how you knew I was in danger yesterday.”

“Tracking software is put on all GGH devices whether they are provided by the agency or not,” Blythe explains, “I took advantage of your nap yesterday to put the software on your phone.”

“And the Grimhaven secretary just carries a gun?”

“I need a way to practice myself,” she comments.

“Well thank you for saving my life,” Hemlock replies.

Blythe flashes him a small smile, heading back to her apartment, “Have a nice night, Hemlock.”

“You too, Blythe.”

[bronytshirt]

teehee

[artbyamyoc]

Allium aka Alli the fairy 🧚🏾‍♀️💜

[kogetaikid]

Trying some new styles

[melancholy-novelette]

My Dear

she and i are artists. we may never feel the same page of paper or draw the same stroke, but we are two halves bound together.

i do not know her name. i only know the name she wishes to be called and i am fine with it so.

"i've decided to romanticise hands. i refuse to feel such disgust, allowing my world to rot."

she had shown me one of her enlightening drawings. her work never ceased to amaze me.

her words flowed like a river, forming into an edible desire i craved. the way she spoke lured me in. her thoughts, desires, morals i wanted to hear them all. they were a sustainable fuel.

"very beautifully said."

my voice said aloud as her eyes bore into mine. the way her eyes looked into mine was intangible; every fiber of my being was being strangled to its end.

her angelic voice was music to my ears. it was like a heavenly rainfall after a year long drought. something one yearns to hear.

"you're very beautifully born."

as she spoke i felt my body stiffen. i still couldn't understand what she saw within me. she was a dear. she was a splendid gut wrenching feeling. she was the reason i could smile, my reason i still have feeling at the tips of my fingers.

i never understood what she saw in me. she was too considerate, too loving, i soaked all of it in like a sponge. she was... is a darling friend. the kindling that starts the fire.

~ m.n.

[growingstoriesandgardens]

Under The Arbor

Part One: Few Scars, Many Kits and Endless Prey

Fall Leaf puts her nose to the dirt and climbs the stones where she can overlook the clearing beyond it. The golden field had been cleared by a human noise maker, leaving the space open and empty. Calling her above anything else. 

This is a lookout point she's climbed and even gone far outside of countless times before. Even venturing out regularly now when the humans living within sight across the field were far away. But the urge is different as the sun peeks through the trees this time. This time, no part of her felt the tug to return down the slope again, not as it had before. There is a part of her somewhere in her chest that tells her she won't be coming back this time, drawing her far away. Her pointed ears stand upright, and her tail waves excitedly behind her. 

Like every fox did, as her mother explained so early in her life, she felt the calling. The burning drive to leave the den she was raised in and become her own hunter, den builder, and protector. A fox cub's parents fill those roles until the kits are old enough to do these things for themselves. Independence from their parent's food, shelter, and protection marks the beginning of a fox cub becoming a grown adult. 

As a cub, it had terrified her.

"One day you won't need me, little leaf. You will do all I do for you on your own." The warm voice of mother whispered as she snuggled into her belly. Ignoring her brother's paws digging into her side to get closer to hide deeper into the vixen's fur.

"But what if I can't!" Fall Leaf had squeaked, curling closer to her mother.

"You will. I am sure." She laughs, licking her cheek, 

With a tail wrapped tightly around them, her mother silently sends them into a deep sleep. With a full belly, warmth, and safety, Fall Leaf hadn't let her mind dwell on it long.

Now, all Fall Leaf wants to do is leap onto the other side of the ridge and go. 

Confidence wells in her, remembering her mother's words. A season after that moment, deep in a den with her mother, Fall Leaf has provided her own food for what feels like forever. She's fought off crows and helped her mother build a new spring den. As the cold of autumn sets in, her whole body, from nose to tail tip, screams that she is ready. 

There would be good hunting, Fall Leaf knew, beyond this field and several over. There, she has seen thick woods- not unlike the ones that sheltered them now. The crows, the kind ones who patiently waited for what her family left behind instead of rushing them for the leftovers, promised her so. It would be plenty to help her through the winter, she knows, which will set in once all the vibrant colors currently on the trees fall to the ground, and the last of the color dies and sleeps till spring, as her mother explained. 

There was little to no fox scent there the last time she visited (because, of course she visited), nor that of wolves of any kind. While that didn't promise a lack of confrontation, it seemed a safe start. That place would be her goal. 

Staying with her mother was always an option, and the vixen knows that well. But she didn't intend on helping her mother raise a litter of siblings, as safe an option as it would be. No, not when the chance was so wide open before her under the gleaming gold of the sun pushing through the trees as it rises. 

The ground is slowly being warmed by the rays, but soon, the earth will begin to freeze overnight. Lightly, a coating of frost at first, then deeply, making everything ice before snow. The thought of trying to get her paws into frozen earth makes her have to shake off an extended look over the area around her mother's den. 

Now. The time was now, or else she might never leave. 

Looking back a last time into the shaded drop into the ravine where she grew up, Fall Leaf's dark-furred chest deflated, still. Sunrise is crouching at the bottom of the stones. The sunny orange ears of her littermate are pinned to his head, and he doesn't look up at her with his long muzzle close to his white paws. Undoubtedly, he knows where her mind is already, and if his tail tucking itself around his body is any indication, he is less than happy about what she is planning to do. It's nearly enough to break her resolve to move on today.  

"Stay!" He cries out to her, lifting his face from the ground and taking a few steps to place a single foot on the first stone. For a moment, she thinks it is a shame for his bright orange coat to be sullied by the dirt. 

Her ears pin, and her tail drops close to the ground at the sound. 

"Come with me!" She screams excitedly at him. Playfully, she jumps down and intentionally nudges him before leaping back up. A failed attempt at convincing him with a bit of play. They aren't kits any longer, but Sunrise always loved wrestling. 

Sunrise shrinks back into the den at it this time, and Fall Leaf stops and sighs sadly. Her brother isn't ready, not yet. It simply wasn't his time now. Despite knowing that that was a good thing, that it would make her smaller sibling more ready for what the both of them would be facing, a twinge came over her heart temporarily, and she slowly made her way down the stones again. Closing the distance and nuzzling his lighter fur. Would he be happier here, helping their parents with next season's litter? Would he leave this winter before that?

The first bit of grief comes over her, knowing she might never really find out.  

"I love you, brother," She whimpers despite the sound coming out heavy, "I wish you the best life if we never cross paths again."

"I wish you the best life, too, Fall Leaf. With few scars, many kits, and endless prey," Sunrise whimpers back as he returns her affectionate nuzzle before they pull apart. 

Turning though, she comes face to face with her mother's unmistakable white mask, looking down at her with gentle hazel eyes. Otherwise, she looks much like her sibling, a lighter color than her fiery red pelt. The steady gaze is the one that had watched her learn to walk, to pounce, to track. There is sadness in them, though. While she had grown more distant the last few turns of the moon and had visited them less and less, the love, even with her presence, wraps itself as tightly around her as her own pelt. 

"Thank you," She squeaks. "I want to be as good to my kits as you were to me, Mother." 

White Mask steps forward and nuzzles her shoulder before pulling away and nodding. "I have no doubt you will do that and more, my little one. That said, I came to be sure that you're ready. Are you ready, to feed yourself alone, to protect a terrority? Make a den?" 

She is taken aback by that by the hesitancy in her voice. "You were the one who told me I could, even as a kit." She says firmly. 

"And I stand by that. It's just that you may not understand how much you still have to learn." White Mask replies with the same unwavering tone she raised them with. "I only love you and worry, daughter."

"I can do this; I know it. No matter how much I still have to learn." Fall Leaf says back, unfazed and matching the immovable belief in her words that White Mask had used. 

White Mask's eyes seem to grow proud when she steps away, making her heart feel full. Sunrise, while still not filled with zeal about seeing her go, still manages to be excited as they watch her take her first steps as a grown, free fox. They believed in her, and if Fall Leaf didn't believe in herself, that would be enough to fill her up with confidence in what she was doing in spite of anything. With a large deep breath, she turns. This time, she reminded herself to not look back. 

Bursting with the energy loosed from finally taking the first steps, Fall Leaf climbs the stones for the truly last time like the wind rushes, fluidly jumping down over the other side. As she takes full strides through empty fields, the vixen is careful to avoid the sharp stubs left by the human monster claws when they cut these fields. A handful of birds take wing. Sunrise and their mother let out exuberant farewell calls to her from behind her. Which she returns for as long as the sound of their voice echoes.

Likely for the last time. No more stashes of food from her mother or sharing warmth with Sunrise. No more strolls in the territory with her father, whom she hadn't seen in days and days. 

It makes her choke on her grief while she passes through one field, a second one, and then a third. Practically bouncing as she avoids the sharp, dry stubs left behind. The pangs melt away when her hazel eyes take in the tree line, lit up by the rising sun, and the sounds of life within make her ears lift towards it. Her whole body falls into the same pull without her consciously directing it. 

[bandgie]

Lost & Found

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

a/n: sorry for that wait :(

warnings: MDNI 18+, brief smut, fem!reader, reader walks in on it, cum mentions, jealousy, yeah

2.2k words

The walk was more intense than you had anticipation. Gravity began to weigh you down rather quickly. Your legs ached, feet cramped, chest squeezing with the inhale of each breath. It was near dark, and you knew damn well that arriving at a mansion so late would raise uncertainty, but you were too desperate to really care.

Trees surrounded the area almost eerily. There a dirt road that lead to the entrance not too far from where you were. Some bushes and flowers were growing on the side of the path. Perhaps they planted those there to lighten the mood, you think. With the shadows of the trees and the beginning of sunset, the house looked somewhat ethereal.

It was then that you saw a woman in working clothes, logs bundled up in her hands most likely for the fireplace. She noticed immediately. It was hard not to when you scurried to her with labored breathing. "Excuse me!" You called out. She took a few tentative steps forward, keeping a distance between you and her. She didn't answer, but made eye contact. You took this as an opportunity to speak.

"I'm so sorry to trouble you, but I heard you were looking for a house maiden that could not read. I'm illiterate and-"

"Oh!" She cuts you off. Her demeanor changes completely. She drops the logs on the ground and reaches for your hand. "Yes yes! We are! Come inside. I'll have to let the head lady know and she'll handle the rest. You must be hungry." Without waiting for your response, she leads you to the front door and allows you to enter.

The mansion was massive on the outside, and it was extravagant on the inside. Ceilings were high, little chandeliers hung everywhere with a big one in the center of the room. The main floor was polished and it shined under the candle lights that were placed everywhere in the house. There was a spiral staircase that lead to the second floor towards the back of the room.

Your eyes trailed around the entire area. There was an east and west part of the first floor; One you assumed for the kitchen and the other for the parlour room. Never had you thought to see such a sight up close, let alone be inside it.

"Go ahead and rest in the drawing room," the woman breaks your thoughts. "I'll draw some tea and get the head lady." She points you the the west side and begins to make her to the East side before she turns around. "I nearly forgot," she starts, "My name is Abigail, it's a pleasure to meet you." You quickly introduce yourself, "The pleasure is mine."

She gives you a friendly smile and bustles away.

-

You're given your black tea quickly, watching as Abagail disappears from the room to get the head lady. Excitement and worry run through your veins. From what you gathered, you seemed like the perfect candidate for this job. The ability to read was important, but it was something you just never really had the opportunity to come across.

Who would've thought it worked in my favor? You wonder. Your tea was barely sipped on before you heard footsteps. You turn your head towards the entrance to see Abagail and a much older lady standing there, eyes already on you. You stood up and briefly curtsied, "Good evening, I'm-"

"Yes Abigail here has already told me," she interrupts. "You're here for the house maiden position I see?" Unlike the first maid you met, this one was rather stern. You could tell for the way her eyes sliced into you, the aged wrinkles on her face. "That is right," you confirm. She hums in understanding. "Though I can see you're eager, you came near sundown. The Viscount is in his room, as is his family. I suppose since we are rather in dire need on an illiterate maid, I can make an exception for your unpunctuality."

You bite your tongue, instead plastering a smile on your face and nodding, "Of course, thank you." This was something you had anticipated, though not so soon. There's always people you have to work with that you might have issues with, it's a guaranteed fact no matter where you go. Still, you hope her attitude is just a strategy to weed out the possible weak links in this mansion.

The head maid, whose name you learned is Meredith, has you go through a series of tests. She hands you writings on paper, some with big and small words. You can recognize some letters, when sentences start and when they end, but actually reading them coherently is near impossible. Meredith is rather surprised by the lack of ability to read. She most likely though you were lying, but she can tell by your expression how hard you were trying to understand what was in front of you.

Then you moved on to numbers, something you could actually recognize. Working at shops, you had no choice but to handle money and perfect your ability to count. Even when you were young, counting was a priority your mom made to teach you. You weren't sure if knowing numbers was a deal-breaker, but Meredith's pleased look told you the opposite. Once you finished your series of trials, she gave you a wide smile.

"I believe you are fit for this position. Cleaning is the main aspect, however you will need to clean the personal library and the Viscount's sons office specifically. Cooking is also necessary, however I don't think we needs more cooks..." Meredith goes on the describe the duties of being a maid here. Though you're trying to listen, you can't help but celebrate on the inside.

You did it. You're here in a new city with people you don't know. You have a job and a place to stay, there's absolutely no reason for you to go back to that shit hole of a village ever again. You find yourself nodding to her requests as she speaks, unable to stop the smile on your face.

"You do understand that you will have to live here as well," she carefully eyes you. "If you have a family or husband back at home, there's some vacation though it's not much." You shake your immediately, "No. None. I came here from a village days away, I can stay here indefinitely." Your answer has her slightly shocked. Though you're still somewhat young, many women your age would have been courted or in the middle of seeking a potential husband.

"Ah, I see," she nods. "Well, I see no issue in you starting immediately. Abagail," she turns to the other maid who has been quiet since the interaction. "Yes Miss?" Meredith stands and nods her head to you, "Prepare a room for our new recruit. There should be some clean sleepwear in the laundry room, have her bathed and dressed for the night."

Abigail nods and ushers to you, a small smile on her lips. She whisks you away to lead you a little further into the parlour room. Besides the piano is a door that she opens with her many keys to reveal the staircase leading downwards. The steps creak as you and her walk, giving you some sense of fear as you walk further into the dark.

Abagail quickly turns talkative once out of ear shot of Meredith, "How exciting! Miss usually has the tests go on for a few days, but your inability must've been so obvious that it wasn't necessary!" Though she meant it as a good thing, you still feel slightly offended by her words. You raise an eyebrow at her, "I'll try to take that as a compliment."

You can see her mortified expression when she recognizers her words. Her apologies come out rapidly, and it looks like she might cry. You quickly raise your hands in defense and shake your head, "No no! I wasn't upset, I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

The sudden sound of creaking and low whining interrupts you. Bits of fear starts to rise in your chest, unsure of what awaits you and Abagail. Rather than looking scared, Abagail shines her lantern in front of her to illuminate two people.

They're completely covered in darkness, but you could see the blurred movements of thrusting.

She's perched up on a table used for sewing. Her hands are collapsed around the man's neck with her legs open, letting him wildly hump into her. You can tell she's trying to be quiet, but with how relentlessly he's fucking her there's little no way she could silence herself.

The man takes notice of his now onlookers, his hazy eyes look up to lock with yours. His pupils are full blown wide, a near inhume look with how dark they are. Pitch black hair falls over his face that would've been unrecognizable if without the lantern.

You can feel your stomach flip, the gasp that gets caught in your throat. The eye contact never breaks even as his hands travel down her naked torso. He grips her waist and brings her closer. The sudden proximity makes her mewl, her head thrown back as moans leave her lips.

You shiver.

"Sir Nyryx!" Abagail shouts in a hushed tone. As if this instance is a common occurrence, she tosses you the lantern and makes her way down the remaining stairs and approaches the woman.

"Absolutely unacceptable!" She harshly rips the two apart, uncaring for the woman's complaints and the man's, whose name you learned is Nyryx, eye roll. Abigail bends down to pick up the maid's clothes, throwing it at her.

"Should I tell the head lady about this and she wouldn't hesitate to kick you out!" The mention of Meredith has the maid pleading, begging for mercy. "No! Abagail you wouldn't! I have children and no other house would hire me-"

Abagail waves her hand, quickly dismissing the woman's pleads. "And it's no wonder why. I don't have time to report you, we just acquired a new maid. You are dismissed."

The half-dressed maid curtseys to both of you and quickly departs. You have to avert your eyes to ignore how cum drips down her bare legs.

"And you!" Abigail speaks up again. Her finger is pointed to Sir Nyryx's chest. A smirk plays on his lips and he adjusts his lower sleepwear.

"And what about me?" He teases.

"I hate when you play smart with me!" She huffs and angrily stabs her finger in his chest. "I understand you have manly urges and whatnot, but that is no excuse for this behavior! You have a chamber for purposes like these. In God's name use it!"

Once Nyryx finishes adjusting his clothes he shrugs. "I did not think someone would be here this late. Let alone a new someone." He gaze looks to you then back to the person scolding him. "But I do wonder, did my behavior entice you? I was being a good lover, no?"

Abigail lets out a frustrated yell and smacks his chest. You gasp at the outburst, worried of what would happen. You fully expect Sir Nyryx to raise his hand, to slap her across the face as any other man might. Instead he laughs, eyes closed genuine satisfaction as he clutches his abdomen.

"You are so fun to tease Abagail," he smiles to her.

There's absolutely no reason for you to feel as jealous as you do. You have barely met this man tonight in a rather absurd way. Abagail doesn't play into his flirting, stomping angrily and on the verge of cursing at him. Still, there's a strange ache in your chest. You wish he would stop talking to her, stop talking all the women here in general.

You can't let go of the image of him fucking her. How impossibly deep how must've been inside for her not to notice you and Abigail walking in on them. His hips thrusting against her erratically, like he was close to finishing. She had already finished multiple times on his cock. You can see the stains on his trousers and the essence on the floor.

How lucky she was to have him all to herself.

Your thoughts are cut off abruptly when Abigail's shoves him out of the basement. He stumbles onto the stairs next to you, his eyes not shying away from your flustered expression.

Sir Nyryx takes in time passing you, his shoulders brushing against yours. A part of you wishes that he grazed his fingers against you instead. There's such an unbearable need to feel his skin on yours that it makes you want to reach out for him.

As if noticing you desire, he smirks at you. "Welcome home, new maid."

Abigail continues to berate him even as he ascends the stairs. You can't find it in you to turn your head away from him. Even his backside is beautiful to look.

"Pay him no mind. He thinks with the head in his trousers rather than the one on his shoulders," Abagail rolls her eyes as she speaks to you.

You should tell her it's not fine, that Sir Nyryx didn't bother you in the slightest bit. However, your mouth is utterly dry and you find it difficult to lie.

You nod.

Pleased with your answer, Abagail returns the nod and wipes her hands on her long skirt. She quickly puts on her friendly smile and ushers you to her side.

"Come, let's get you settled in."

a/n: I would like to formally apologize for the huge delay. I lost motivation and I hit a HUGE writers block. like I wrote this chapter halfway thru a while ago and I thought "how the fuck am I supposed to finish this?" so I stopped and waited for my creative juices to show...took longer than I thought. on a good note we met Nyryx again! no memories of the past ofc, and imma make him a flirt (as always) with some fuckboy tendencies, sorry. Meredith and Abagail are gonna have a lot of character change, but they'll play similar roles to the previous story if you're still reading this, im sorry :(

[resurrectionist3]

OKAY SO,,,

Has ANYONE ELSE seen BODIES on Netflix YET???

BECAUSE IF YOU HAVENT,,,,

YOU BETTER CHANGE THAT.

Usually i don’t Actually cry over movies or series with sad or happy endings. i’ll say that i cried over a show and i definitely felt all the emotions, but i didn’t physically cry. It takes a LOT of emotions to make me PHYSICALLY cry over a movie or series (like when i saw Hamilton or at the end of Turn: Washington’s Spies).

And this Did It. Not only is the story absolutely GENIUS, but the ENDING. IS SO SWEET. AND PERFECT. And the overall message that the story has to convey is a really beautiful one.

Please Please PLEASE do yourself the most wonderful favour and

WATCH. THIS. SHOW.

-

-

-

know you are loved

[daughterofhecata]

READING LIST 2024

Jonathan Kellerman: Bad Love. An Alex Delaware Novel. (reread)

James Oswald: The Hangman’s Song. An Inspector McLean Novel.

Dirk Oschmann: Der Osten: eine westdeutsche Erfindung

Arthur Schnitzler: Traumnovelle

André Minninger: Die Drei ??? Der Ruf der Krähen

André Marx: Die Drei ??? Spur ins Nichts

Franz Kafka: Brief an den Vater

Candas Jane Dorsey: Drag Cop [org. title: The Adventures of Isabel. A Postmodern Mystery, by the Numbers.]

G.H. Stone: Die Drei ??? Angriff der Computerviren [org. title: The Three Investigators – Fatal Error]

Ray Bradbury: Fahrenheit 451

Chuck Palahnuik: Fight Club

Kari Erlhoff: Rocky Beach Crimes #4. Der blutrote Kondor.

Evelyn Boyd: Rocky Beach Crimes #2. Mord unter Palmen. (reread)

Robert Arthur: Die drei ??? und der seltsame Wecker [org. title: Afred Hitchcock and The Three Investigators in The Mystery of the Screaming Clock] (reread)

Jo Nesbø: Macbeth. Blut wird mit Blut bezahlt. [org. title: Macbeth]

William Shakespeare: Macbeth (reread)

Hendrik Buchna: Die Drei ??? und der dreiTag. Der Fluch der Sheldon Street.

Kurt Vonnegut: Slaughterhouse-Five or the Children's Crusade. A Duty Dance with Death.

Maurice Leblanc: Arsène Lupin gegen Herlock Sholmes [org. title: Arsène Lupin contre Herlock Sholmès]

M.V. Carey: Die Drei ??? Savage Statue – Grausame Göttin [org. title: The Case of the Savage Statue]

William McCay: Die Drei ??? Shoot the Works – Im Visier [org. title: Shoot the Works]

Tim Wenderoth: Die Drei ??? und der dreiTag. Im Zeichen der Ritter.

Ivan Leon Menger, John Beckmann: Die Drei ??? und der dreiTag. Fremder Freund.

Ilko-Sascha Kowalczuk: Die Übernahme. Wie Ostdeutschland Teil der Bundesrepublik wurde.

M.V. Carey: Die Drei ??? und die flammende Spur [org. title: Alfred Hitchcock and The Three Investigators in The Mystery of The Flaming Footprints]

Lemony Snicket: A Series of Unfortunate Events #1. The Bad Beginning.

William Arden: Die Drei ??? und der Automarder [org. title: The Three Investigators and the Mystery of the Smashing Glass]

Marco Sonnleitner: Die Drei ??? Schrecken aus der Tiefe

George Orwell: 1984

Guillaume Apollinaire: Liebesgedichte [herausgegeben von Ulla Hahn/Auswahl von Marc Föcking]

Jonathan Kellerman: The Ghost Orchid. An Alex Delaware Novel.

Michael Kühlen: Die Drei ??? Die weiße Anakonda

Christa Wolf: Nachdenken über Christa T.

Steffen Mau: Lütten Klein. Leben in der ostdeutschen Transformationsgesellschaft.

André Minninger: Die Drei ??? Die Spur der Toten

Kōtarō Isaka: Bullet Train [org. title: マリアビートル]

G.H. Stone: Die Drei ??? und die gefährlichen Fässer [org. title: Rough Stuff]

Ernst Jandl: lechts und rinks. gedichte statements peppermints.

Ben Nevis: Die Drei ??? Der dreiäugige Schakal

Kari Erlhoff: Die Drei ??? Im Schatten des Giganten

Bertolt Brecht: „Als ich nachher von dir ging“. Erotische Gedichte. [ausgewählt von Raimund Fellinger und Matthias Reiner]

James Oswald: Dead Men’s Bones. An Inspector McLean Novel.

André Marx: Die Drei ??? Meuterei auf hoher See

Lemony Snicket: A Series of Unfortunate Events #2. The Reptile Room.

G.H. Stone: Die Drei ??? und die Musikpiraten [org title: Reel Trouble]

Karel Čapek: Der Krieg mit den Molchen [org. title: Válka s mloky]

Ingeborg Bachmann: Die gestundete Zeit. Gedichte.

Ellen Kushner: Riverside #1. Swordspoint. (reread)

Countee Cullen: Color

Konstantin Wecker: Sage nein! Politische Lieder 1977-1992.

Philippe Besson: Venice Beach [org. title: Un Homme Accidentel]

Jonathan Kellerman: Obsession. An Alex Delaware Novel. (reread)

Cornelia Funke: Tintenwelt #2. Tintenblut. (reread)

Sara Berger: Experten der Vernichtung. Das T4-Reinhardt-Netzwerk in den Lagern Belzec, Sobibor und Treblinka.

Neil Gaiman: Coraline

Stephen King: Carrie

Astrid Vollenbruch: Die Drei ??? Geisterbucht

Plinio Bachmann, Rita Czapka, Knut Neumayer (Hrsg.): Kakanien. Neue Republik der Dichter.

Erich Fried: und Vietnam und. Einundvierzig Gedichte.

Georg Büchner: Woyzeck

Lemony Snicket: A Series of Unfortunate Events #3. The Wide Window.

Maurice Leblanc: Arsène Lupin. 813. Das Doppelleben des Arsène Lupin. [org. title: 813]

Lemony Snicket: A Series of Unfortunate Events #4. The Miserable Mill.

Georg Büchner: Leonce und Lena

Christoph Dittert, Kari Erlhoff, Hendrik Buchna: Die Drei ??? Schattenwelt

Juli Zeh: Nullzeit

Evelyn Boyd: Rocky Beach Crimes #3. Eiskalter Rausch. (reread)

André Marx: Die Drei ??? Die Spur des Raben

Jostein Gaarder: Sofies Welt [org. title: Sofies verden]

Paul Verlaine: Gedichte [herausgegeben von Stephan Hermlin]

Philippe Besson: Hör auf zu lügen [org. title: Arrête avec tes mensonges]

Cornelia Funke: Tintenwelt #3. Tintentod. (reread)

Wolf Schneider: Deutsch für junge Profis

Klaus Mann: Mephisto. Roman einer Karriere.

Suzanne Collins: The Hunger Games #1. The Hunger Games. (reread)

Lemony Snicket: A Series of Unfortunate Events #5. The Austere Academy.

Jonathan Kellerman: Todesfeuer. Ein Alex-Delaware-Roman. [org. title: Evidence. An Alex Delaware Novel.] (reread)

Peer Meter, Isabel Kreitz: Haarmann

Maurice Leblanc: Arsène Lupin. The Crystal Stopper. [org. title: Le bouchon de cristal]

James Wood: Die Kunst des Erzählens [org. title: How Fiction Works]

Michael Kraske: Der Riss. Wie die Radikalisierung im Osten unser Zusammenleben zerstört.

Kari Erlhoff: Die Drei ??? Tauchgang ins Ungewisse (reread?)

James Ellroy: Blutschatten [org. title: The Big Nowhere]

El Marto, Frederik Richter: Made in Germany: Ein Massaker im Kongo. Eine grafische Reise zwischen Afrika und Europa.

Juli Zeh: Leere Herzen

Maurice Leblanc: Arsène Lupin heiratet oder In Arsène Lupins Geheimnisse eingeweiht. Erzählungen. [org. title: Les Confidences d’Arsène Lupin]

Lemony Snicket: A Series of Unfortunate Events #6. The Ersatz Elevator.

Suzanne Collins: The Hunger Games #2. Catching Fire. (reread)

Ernest William Hornung: The Amateur Cracksman

Heda Margolius Kovály: Eine Jüdin in Prag. Unter dem Schatten von Hitler und Stalin [org. title: Under a Cruel Star: A Life in Prague, 1941-1968]

Louise Glück: Averno

Richard Breitman: The Architect of Genocide. Himmler and the Final Solution.

Marco Sonnleitner: Die Drei ??? Die Nacht der Gewitter

James Oswald: Prayer for the Dead. An Inspector McLean Novel.

George Orwell: Warum ich schreibe. Die großen Essays. [texts taken from “Essays” and “Fascism and Democracy”]

Kari Erlhoff: Die Drei ??? und das Fantasmofon

Louise Glück: The Wild Iris

Hendrik Buchna: Die Drei ??? Im Bann des Barrakudas

Suzanne Collins: The Hunger Games #3. Mockingjay. (reread)

James Ellroy: White Jazz [org. title: White Jazz]

Andreas Ruch: Die Drei ??? und der schwarze Fluch

Akwaeke Emezi: You made a Fool of Death with your Beauty (reread)

Ernst Jandl: Laut und Luise

Ben Aaronovitch: Eine Nachtigall in New York. Eine Thomas-Nightingale-Story [org. title: The Masquerades of Spring]

Audre Lorde: Coal

Suzanne Collins: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. A Hunger Games Novel.

Jan Wagner: Die Eulenhasser in den Hallenhäusern. Drei Verborgene. Gedichte.

John Steinbeck: Of Mice and Men

Christoph Hein: Verwirrnis

Audre Lorde: The Black Unicorn. Poems.

Megan Stine, H. William Stine: Die Drei ??? und der giftige Gockel [org. title: Murder to Go]

Maurice Leblanc: Arsène Lupin. Der Zahn des Tigers. Die drei Verbrechen des Arsène Lupin. [org. title: Les Dents du tigre]

Lemony Snicket: A Series of Unfortunate Events #7. The Vile Village.

Elisabeth Steinkellner: Papierklavier

Jiří Weil: Moskau – Die Grenze [org. title: Moskva – hranice]

Philipp Ruch: Es ist 5 vor 1933. Was die AfD vorhat und wie wir sie stoppen.

Ben Aaronovitch: Die Füchse von Hampstead Heath. Eine Abigail-Kamara-Story. [org. title: What Abigail Did That Summer]

Octavia Butler: Fledgling

Historia von D. Johann Fausten [Verfasser unbekannt]

Ines Geipel: Umkämpfte Zone. Mein Bruder, der Osten und der Hass.

DNF:

Allan Ginsberg: Collected Poems 1947-1980

Eva Völler: Helle Tage, Dunkle Schuld

Natsuo Kirino: Real World [org. title: Riaru Wārudo]

[thevampirhuntersjounral]

March 20, 1981 - Boston MA

I told Charlie down by the harbor about my theory, today. He just laughed at me and told me that I should just let it go. I can’t. I have to find them! The T was packed as always but I managed to get to the library. All the history books say the same thing that all vampire sightings ended when Japan surrendered. It makes no sense though, there were hardly any vampires in Japan. They weren’t even fighting in the war. I asked the librarian more about the creatures but she didn’t know much. She told me to track down an old man, said his name was Masao. He comes to the library every day around noon. I’ll have to stop by tomorrow to meet him.

Rent is due in three days. I’m only $20 short, might have to pick up an extra shift. I could use the cash. Need to buy milk. Remember to call Anna.

[firstmatelee]

Untitled pirate story ch.2

The next morning, I woke up with a pillow in my face. Jack had an interesting way of saying good morning, that's for sure.

"Good morning, Lin," Jack greeted as he rose up the pillow again. "Hope you got sleep, because today is--"

"Sword fighting, I know..." I groaned in annoyance, "If you hit me with that pillow again, I'll hurt you."

I sat up as Jack put the pillow down, smiling smugly.

"Well, I woke you up, didn't I?" He retorted, "Now get your boots on; we have a long day ahead."

I sighed, followed by a yawn and a stretch. My back cracked in four different places, which felt amazing. That was one of the best sleeps I've had in months. I looked over to a nearby window to get an idea of the time. The sun was just barely rising, casting a beautiful orange glow through the window. This time used to be my father's favorite time of day. He always loved watching the sunrise with my mom and me.

I then stood up and grabbed my boots. My legs were still a little wobbly, but I was getting the hang of it.

"Why are you up this early, Jack?" I asked as I pulled my boots on. 

"This is the time my crew and I usually start our mischief for the day," Jack replied. "Besides, it's a rather beautiful time of day, don't you agree?"

I smiled slightly "I suppose it is."

I stood up, stretching out my arms for balance as I steadied my legs. 

"Still need a hand—or a shoulder—to help balance you?" Jack asked.

I shook my head, "No, I think I got it. I'm good to go."

I took a step forward, stumbled a little but managed to keep myself upright. I heard Jack snicker as I continued to walk to the door. He walked next to me as if ready to catch me. After a moment, I found my footing well enough to walk properly the rest of the way. As I placed my hand on the door handle, I looked back at Jack.

"So, quick question," I began, "is your crew up too?"

Jack nodded. "Aye, they're outside."

"Did you also hit them with pillows, or am I just special?"

Jack laughed at my jest, clearly still proud of himself for that one.

"I suppose I just knew you weren't going to stab me for it," Jack half-joked. "Arabella would have my head if I did that to her."

I mentally noted that Arabella must be one of his mates and was glad to hear that there was another girl my age on board.

"Now, come on," Jack motioned to the door handle, "let's not keep them waiting any longer."

I opened the cabin door, and the sunlight almost blinded me. My dark brown eyes squinted automatically, trying to adjust to the sunlight. I could feel my short, dark brown hair tousle in the breeze, and the sun warmed my pale skin as I stepped out. As my eyes struggled to adjust to the light, I saw what was presumably Jack’s crew. The crew was made up of a boy and a girl. The boy had a scrawny but fit build. He had sharp blue eyes that shone in the sunlight. His long dirty blonde hair was in a messy ponytail, yet a few loose strands managed to escape. His clothes were faded, worn and loose-fitting, including a slightly oversized coat. Despite his young age, there was a sort of roughness to his face as if the sea had already taken a toll on him. Next to the boy was the girl who had tousled auburn hair tied back into a green bandana. She wore a outfit which consisted of a yellow vest over a long-sleeved shirt, which gave her a rough yet practical look. Her brown skirt was worn from travel, which gave her a blend of toughness and style. Her light green eyes gave off a friendly, yet fierce, expression. "About bloody time ya get out here," said the girl to Jack.

“Apologies, lass, had to get her awake.” Replied Jack to the girl before he turned to me, “Lin, this is my crew.”

He gestured to the girl “This is my first mate, Arabella Smith, though we call her Bella. Bella, this is Lin.”

“Pleasure to meet ya, Lin” she greeted with a crooked but sweet smile.

“And the boy next to her is Hector Barbossa,” Jack continued.

Barbossa, arms crossed, gave a small wave while maintaining his rough composure.

“Ahoy, lass.” He greeted.

It was a small crew, but that was to be expected. The pirate life wasn’t the kind of life you’d want a child involved in. Which really made me wonder how the two of them ended up on The Wrench. I gave a small wave as a greeting, eyes still squinting and Jack taking notice.

“Why do you keep—” he stopped for a moment as if thinking.

“Ya forgot to put kohl on her eyes, Jack,” interrupted Bella, “I’d be surprised if she isn’t blind by now.”

Jack, realizing his mistake, quickly pulled a small black make-up pallet from his pocket.

“My apologies, lass, it was not my intention to blind you,” he said, dipping his fingers into the pallet.

I gave a confused look as he put his hand towards my face, “Why are you putting make-up on me?”

“It’s to keep your eyes safe from the sun,” replied Jack, “Now close your eyes and stay still.”

I didn’t question it; this wasn’t the strangest thing to happen to me in the last few hours. I closed my eyes and Jack put the kohl on my eyelids. He gently patted it on in a smooth gentle motion, his touch slow and deliberate as he traced each of my eyes. After a few moments he pulled his hand away.

 "Finished," stated Jack. "Now, try and open your eyes, Lin."

I opened my eyes and, oddly enough, I could see much better. The sun was still bright, but it wasn't blinding me as much. The kohl really did work wonders, easing the glare of the sun. 

"Better," I admitted, "oddly enough."  "Looking much more like a pirate now," Jack said before turning to the others, "don't you two agree?"

"Aye, now that she's not going bloody blind," said Bella.

Barbossa nodded in agreement.

"Now she actually looks like she could've stolen from your father," He added.

I got a little embarrassed at that last comment. A part of me was upset that Jack had told them, but they were going to find out eventually. I just hoped that when Jack told them I didn't come off as a complete idiot. 

"Oh, don't embarrass her, Barbossa" Jack said, putting an arm around my shoulder "Lin was plenty brave during that endeavor. She'll be even better off once she gets some sword fighting knowledge." 

Jack glanced at me as if to say, 'I told you I'd put in a good word'. I smiled slightly in appreciation that he kept his promise. 

"Anyway, Bella, did you and Barbossa grab the swords as I requested?" Jack asked, turning to Arabella.

"Aye," she said, motioning to a nearby wall.

Leaning against the wall were two wooden swords that looked like children’s toys more than anything. If I was honest, it almost felt like an insult, a punishment due to my lack of knowledge.

"Did you run out of real swords?" I said, half joking. 

Barbossa chuckled, "We have plenty of those, but with how under experienced you are, Jack didn't want to accidentally stab you."

"You flatter me, Hector," Jack said proudly. "But He is correct, I don't wish for anyone to get hurt. Especially lin. Although Bella and Barbossa will be using real swords when they set examples."

Jack looked back to the other two crewmates.

"Speaking of which, are you two ready?" 

Arabella and Barbossa both pulled out a sword from their sheaths. The swords made a very neat Shink Sound as they did so. 

Jack looked back at me, "so, Ms. Lin, are you ready for your sword orientation?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, Mr. Sparrow," I replied.

I heard Barbossa sigh, "You're really still insisting on the last name 'Sparrow'?" 

Jack nodded "It’s a bloody brilliant last name, and you will call me it if you wish to stay part of me crew, Savvy?" 

Barbossa grumbled at the reply. Soon enough Arabella and Barbossa got into a sword fighting position. Jack and I sat down to observe, and he instructed me to watch closely. He then added that anything I didn’t pick up I could practice hands on with him. 

"Alright lass, watch closely," instructed Jack 

Arabella and Barbossa started with what was presumably sword fighting posture. The two of them put their feet together, making it seem like they were on a ramp of sorts. They ever so slightly bent their knees.

Them, still keeping their footing, they moved on to what Jack called "advancing and retreating" mixed with "attack and parrying"

As Barbossa moved forward his opponent, Bella, moved back. Bella used her blade to attack his shoulder, which he blocked by putting his sword straight up. Barbossa then went to attack her, Bella doing the same prior movements as Barbossa. 

Finally, there was a move called an "envelope". Barbossa and Bella crossed swords again. This time Bella quickly made a circular motion with her blade, knocking Barbossa's sword to the ground. 

After the examples were shown, Jack and I clapped. Bella did a bow along with Barbossa.

"I hope our example helped ya, lass,” said Bella.

"Just so you know, I usually don't lose to a lady, I was going easy on her." Joked Barbossa, prompting Bella to playfully smack him in the arm. He let out a chuckle as she did so.

I giggled at their antics and nodded.

"I believe I understand what I'm to do," I replied "although I definitely need to practice."

"Perfect," Bella replied "We'll leave you two to it. Are you hungry, Hector?"

"Starvin’," Barbossa responded.

With that, the two of them took off to find food. Jack stood up and lent me his hand and pulled me to my feet.

"Alright, Lin, ya ready?" he asked as he grabbed one of the wooden swords before tossing one to me. 

"I believe so," I replied, getting into a position I thought was right.

"Alright, Avast!" 

We quickly pulled out our swords. I tried to remember what I saw the other two do. Only for Jack to quickly attack, parry and envelope me. He the then accidentally tripped me and I landed on my arse. 

"Oi! Not fair!" I scolded.

Jack leaned on his sword "Just wanted to see what you remembered; I knew you were going to be bloody awful."

"Wow I appreciate all the good faith you have in me" I said sarcastically, shooting him a glare.

Jack once again offered me his hand; I reluctantly took it as he pulled me off the deck floor. I stood up and picked up my fallen wooden sword.

"Now, first thing," he started "let me see your sword fighting posture."

I quickly went into my best starting position, sword pointing out. Jack looked at me and shook his head. He then pushed me down so my knees were more bent while keeping my heels together. He then moved my arm so it was more forward.

"You're so tense, Lin" he said, his breath brushing against my neck as he adjusted me "loosen up, will you?"

I shivered, took a deep breath and tried to relax my body. Jack then Stepped back to admire his handiwork.

"Much better," he said with a smile "No need to act like you're scared of the sword. It's only practice after all."

He picked up his wooden sword again and positioned himself.

"Alright, we'll take it slow this time" Jack said, pointing the sword at me, "now, when you're in battle make sure to stay alert but keep your muscles relaxed. Try to remember the adjustments I gave you."

I nodded understandingly, trying my best to stay in the position Jack put me in. Now that I had my stance down, we moved on to a very slow-paced attack and retreat. However, there were a few times I stumbled while trying to attack. I still wasn't fully adjusted to the movement of the ship. Jack laughed at me, but ultimately made sure I was stable. Eventually I found my footing. After a little bit of practice, although still amateur, I got the hang of it. 

When it came to attacking and parrying, I was a tad bit better. I managed to keep Jack's sword away from my shoulders and I patted his shoulder a few times. One time however, I hit a little too hard and hit one of his shoulders with a loud THUNK!

"Oh, my goodness!" I said putting a hand over my mouth, "I didn't mean to hurt you, are you alright??"

I went over to him to access the damage that I had done. Jack rubbed his shoulder and smiled, impressed.

"That is wonderful beginners luck you have, lass" he said, still rubbing his shoulder "I haven't been grazed, or in this case hit, by a sword in ages, usually it's the other way around."

He must have noticed my worried expression as he moved his hand from his shoulder.

"I wouldn't worry too much, lass, it's simply a bump." He reassured me, "But, if it would make you feel better, you can access the bruise after practice."

I let out a relieved sigh that he wasn't mad or too hurt. It was only my first day of sword training, I didn't want to majorly hurt anyone just yet. Besides, seeing how impressed Jack was by my graze, made me feel a tad bit better.

"I suppose it would, luckily my mother taught me how to tend to bruises and wounds as a young girl." I replied, "I'm glad you're alright though."

"Of course I'm alright," he said with a smirk "I'm Jack Sparrow, captain to be. A true captain always gets back up, be it minor bump or major wound, don't ya agree?" 

I let out a laugh at his captain antics, appreciating him joking to cheer me up.

"I agree wholeheartedly," I replied, "Now that you're okay, do you wish to continue?"

"More than anything, lass." Replied jack, "However, don't think me so easy to bump this time."

With that, we got back to practice. After practicing the prior moves a tad bit more, last up was the envelope. The move was hard to get the hang of as Jack kept throwing my sword to the side with great ease.

"You're still stiff, Lin" he told me, “You need to relax you’re arm if you're going to perform the move properly."

I tried to loosen up and we tried again. Once again, he threw my sword to the side with ease.

"Your stiffness is something you need to work on," started Jack, "Or it's going to be your downfall."

"I know, I know," I said, slightly embarrassed, "I'm just trying to focus on not messing up." 

"That's your problem, you need to get out of your head and focus on me. Focusing on your opponent is very important during this." He advised "Now, let's try this again and, this time, focus on me. Savvy?"

I nodded as he picked up his sword and we tried again. This time I focused on the young pirate in front of me. As we swung out swords together, I took notice of some things about him. 

For starters, Jack had a certain type of steadiness he didn't have on land. That was most likely due to his, as he called them, "sea legs". Next, I noticed the look of determination on his face. It was like he was fully engaged in the present moment, as if nothing else mattered.

Suddenly, I heard Jack's sword hit the ground as I managed to do the envelope. Jack slowly clapped his hands for my accomplishment. 

"See? I told you that focusing on your opponent would help," he said, proudly.

We then picked up our swords and continued to practice. I even managed to pick up the pace of which I swung my sword. Our training session went up until midday, when we decided to stop for lunch. Jack and I put our swords back on the wall.

"Impressive speed for a beginner," Jack complimented, "Now, are you hungry? We're still at Port if you want to get anything."

I thanked him and nodded, "I could eat, what do you have in mind?"

"We can get whatever our hands can steal" Jack replied with a mischievous grin.