hopewriteszstuff

[hopewriteszstuff]

Please tell me how does it feel to have Galaxy brain levels of intelligence because THIS STUFF IS OUT OF THIS WORLD

I have a headcanon.

The term "borrower" was originated by humans, and as borrowers developed a symbiotic relationship with humans, they gave that name to themselves as well.

But what about the time before that? The times where borrowers didn't result to borrowing from humans yet?

Or what about what non-humans call borrowers?

What if there's a synonym for the term "borrower", like there's synonyms for the word human?

I'm talking Archaic terms that are only used by beings older than time and space.

I think, they would call them,

"Children of Issun"

And it's derivatives, like "Son of Issun" for example.

Just like humans are called "Son of Adam", after the first human, Borrowers are named after "Issunboshi", the first person of the borrower species to ever exist, at least according to local folklore.

There's other variations, depends on the region and the experience of the person who used the term, but "Issun" is used widely, and it is considered a default.

I like the idea of an immortal using this term instead of borrower, because he has been there before they started borrowing.

Feel free to steal the idea!

Also this may or may not be mild spoilers for upcoming chapters? Dunno.

[hopewriteszstuff]

PLEASE

i think its really funny that tumblr is full of people who want asks, more than theyre getting them, who all seem to think everyone else does not want asks.

[hopewriteszstuff]

Chapter 6:

Are you scared of me?

Last chapter

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, animal death and Mentions of SA

"...How do you feel these days, Lumen?" Dorothy asks me.

 

"I am surviving, like every day since I was born."

 

"That is a very concerning answer," She frowned.

 

"There are so many things we have to work on. Your brother told me some of what you are going through, I know there's even more under the surface."

 

"And my goal is to tackle every single one of them, so you may eventually lead the rest of your immortality with a reason to do so."

 

"But I need your help, If you won't do it for yourself, do it for the ones you care for," She smiled at me, a sweet, friendly smile that made me want to punch her.

 

Different therapist, same bullshit.

 

 

"Let's start with Your life as a vampire, I understand it might be difficult for you to talk about such a subject, so take your time or just tell me if you don't want to talk about_"

 

In a fit of anger, I grab the arm of the chair I was sitting on. It left a clear dent, God I wanted to talk about this for so long.

 

"Fuck this." I interrupt her.

"Excuse me?"

 

 

"I said Fuck this shit! You want to talk about how I lived after the embrace? Oh, I could go on forever, I can talk and talk and not even a hundred sessions would cover it!"

 

"I can talk about how my sire killed me and sank his dirty teeth in my neck as he ripped off my clothing like I was his whore. I can talk about how my wife left with my child the moment she saw what deformed face I had. I can talk about the decades I survived, hiding in fear, having no one in the world to protect me but the same person who ended my life. I can talk about the blood I shed, the crimes I committed, the pain, the endless pain I have gone through! I can talk about how I'm just the empty husk of a person living to serve my sick brother, who I wish would die already so I can finally end my own life!!"

 

Dorothy looked at me in horror, but not in the same way Charlotte does.

She isn't afraid of me.

 

My breaths are shallow, my eyes are burning me, and it's getting worse by the second.

 

I touch my face, blood covers my hands.

I'm crying, aren't I?

When was the last time I cried?

 

"But that will only make you look down on me. You would either think I'm just a poor, pitiful, unfortunate victim of the circumstances, or you would think I'm a selfish, horrible person who is fit to be the next name on the list of psychopaths, that will do us both no good," I finish with a nervous laugh.

 

Dorothy opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out of her mouth.

 

She is just staring at me, I guess that she is looking for a way to respond to my monologue.

 

"What? Isn't that what your therapists like? To have everything laid out for you so you can solve the puzzle and feel good about untangling someone's knot?"

 

"Lumen," She says softly.

"What?"

"Are you okay right now?"

I take a moment to realize what I'm going through, and now...

I want to cry, I think I will collapse at any moment.

 

"It's okay to cry, It really is."

"Your sire isn't here anymore, you aren't in 1850 anymore, you can let your guard down, you are strong, Lumen, very strong."

 

"You are safe."

Her words felt like a spell. I don't know why, but when I heard her words, I cried my heart out.

 

I sob, my blood tears tainting the arm of the jacket I wore. I hear Dorothy's steps as she gets out, and the urge to cry ends.

 

Something is wrong, I Never get this personal with anyone, not even Arsen.

 

This woman, how friendly she is, so sweet might as well think she is made of honey.

 

No one is that nice, no one.

 

"Lumen? Are you ok?" she returns with a handkerchief, I take it from her and wipe my face.

 

I don't like this, how I act around her.

 

"Can I leave? I'm not comfortable." I confront her.

"Is there any way I can make you feel comfortable?"

"No, I don't want to stay here."

 

"Do you want to take the session outside maybe? Some fresh air would help you clear your mind?"

 

"I'm not comfortable with the session itself, Dorothy," I hiss at her.

"I see. Well, I look forward to seeing your next session, same time same day?"

"I'll call you," or not.

 

"Very well, and remember, none of what happened to you was your fault, it's not my job to judge you for what you did, or what happened to you."

 

I get out of her office and slam the door.

I'm hungry, and my session with the therapist just made me hungrier.

 

I smell blood, I need it.

The scent leads me to a small stray cat in an alleyway, I lick my dry lips.

 

"I'm sorry" I whisper to the little creature, as soon as it looked up at me it hissed, its ears pressed flat against its head.

 

I quickly snatch it by the nape of its neck, it whimpers in my grip and its tail is tucked between its legs.

 

"Just a sip.." I tell myself before I bite its neck and treat myself to its hot, delicious blood.

 

I drink to my heart's content, so much that I almost forgot I wasn't supposed to hurt the poor creature, not that it was illegal.

 

Does it deserve to die to feed me? Some of my kind would argue that it's no different than eating a steak, except that I won't eat the corpse.

 

I finally decided to just finish the deed, human blood is more fulfilling of course, but it's expensive and hard to obtain.

Technically it's for free if I want to spend more decades in prison.

 

The stray cat was only a dry body now, I figure out a ghoul would like to have this as its meal so I leave it where I found it.

 

================

 

Home again, I want nothing more than to collapse and call it a night, Arsen probably did the same.

 

Ever since the dome was established above New York, my sleeping routine was all over the place.

Usually, I would only wake up by sunset, but nowadays it's nearly impossible to distinguish day and night until they open the dome.

 

They do this on purpose so our kind would wake up in the morning.

 

"You came early," Arsen's voice echoes from his bedroom and interrupts my thoughts.

 

"I don't like her, Arsen, I don't know why you chose her."

 

"Were you... crying?"

I don't respond.

 

"You were, I can tell by your voice."

"Fine! Yes, I was crying! That's exactly why I don't like her! First session and I cried like a pussy! I swear it's like she is playing with my heart!" I yell at the closed door.

 

"She has that vibe around her, yes? Very friendly, very sweet, maybe you cried because you felt safe with her?"

 

 

"I didn't feel safe, Arsen, I felt vulnerable," I correct him as I take off my jacket and put it in the washing machine.

"I am suspecting that she isn't human, She might as well be a toreador using her presence on me."

 

"Isn't impersonating a human identity illegal?"

 

"Just because it's illegal doesn't mean people won't do it, besides, impersonating a human will just make her whole life easier, I don't see why she won't do it if she won't get caught," I say as I go back to my room, I hear his voice from behind the wall.

 

"Goddamnit, Lumen, and I thought I was the paranoid one, look, if I chose her, you know she is good."

 

"Maybe you were just desperate?"

"Why would I be?"

"Arsen, I nearly killed you an hour, aren't you... Scared of me?"

I recall when I said to the therapist that I wish Arsen was dead so I can die as well, he surely has similar ideas around me, I can't be the only one who is fucked up.

 

I hear his footsteps, he enters my bedroom at a tired pace.

Even though I'm half naked, He walks to me, pulls me by my arm, and slaps me.

 

"I told you I don't want to hear this bullshit from you again."

"I can't be scared of you, you fucking moron, you are a giant mutt, why would I be scared of a giant mutt?"

 

This is probably one of the sweetest things Arsen told me in his life, Maybe I'm still affected by Dorothy's weird aura, but I end up hugging Arsen.

 

Or I almost did, but he disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

"Don't you fucking dare to touch me again, especially when you are almost naked, next time I'm breaking your arms?" He tells me from his bedroom

 

"So you were able to dodge me earlier, why didn't you do it?"

He pauses for a bit, the air around us is filled with tension.

 

"You are incredibly fast when you are set on murdering someone."

"I was... Kind of taken by surprise, which is weird considering I have seen you lend yourself to the beast many times before."

 

"Maybe I just never expected that it would happen here, with me," His voice reeks with sadness.

 

"Goodness, are you sure you don't need a hug?"

"Good night, Lumen."

I sigh as I finish changing into my nightwear, my face is wrapped with new bandages.

 

I make sure to finish the rest of my chores for the night, "Good night, Arsen" I say before I head to bed as well.

[hopewriteszstuff]

This is DELICIOUS

Good writing and content right here

Cusp of the Mend - Chapter 1

The end of Zandri Ma’ye and her family, and the beginning of all vampires.

the writer’s favorite lines:

The fear in his eyes, the scent of that fear leaking from him sends me to my knees, not wanting to stop my sister at all as she rips into his neck with her teeth, silencing his screams as she holds down his thrashing body until he stops moving completely. Until she pulls back with a gasping breath, a wild gleam in her eyes as she wipes the wave of red from her mouth with the back of her hand though it still drips down her chin and down her neck, merging with her own blood on her chest.

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Death and Awakening

Burning. Burning is the only sensation to come to me in the darkness of death. The fire searing through my veins, burning me alive from the inside out. It radiates out from the center of my chest to the tips of my fingers and toes, burning every living nerve in its path. My blood boils and bubbles under my skin.

In my years on earth, I have never felt such pain, such unbearable agony, than at this moment. The unrelenting fire continues to burn me, to kill me from the inside, stopping my heart, slowing my blood flow, and locking my body into a petrified state.

Please, I beg whatever might be listening.

I do not want to hurt.

I do not want to die.

Please.

A different voice than my own, a voice but not a voice at all, an unrecognizable rumble, answers me. And then the pain fades. Slowly, the fire turns to frigid ice, washing through my veins and cooling the burns left behind, numbing the lingering aches until I don’t feel anything.

I miss the pain the moment it’s gone, the only tether holding me to any semblance of life, leaving me with nothing at all except endless darkness.

The darkness into which they banished me seems to welcome me with open arms, wrapping its layers of shadow and black around me, pulling me deeper and deeper into the void until it was all I could see, all I could hear or feel or taste.

Nothing.

But at the same time, the nothingness seems … full. Suffocating. Drowning. It seeps into every bit of my body, filling the crevices of my mind, my soul, my heart. It replaces the air in my lungs, the blood in my veins, until I am one with the darkness, merged into one being, everything and nothing all at once.

And then the darkness calls my name.

Coaxing me to join it. To give in to the nothing, to let the everything take me under.

No.

No, I have to fix this. I have to climb out of this endless pit, find my brothers and my sister, and bring them back with me. Save them from the darkness that surely yearns to take them, too.

The nothingness growls in response as I sink my nails into it, pulling myself away from beckoning death. I am not sure if that is the way I came, but I somehow know that that is the way I need to go. I claw and scratch and dig my way out until I can smell the familiar scent of wet dirt, the scent of my life spilled into it. Until I can feel the soil under my fingernails, digging into the ground rather than the endless darkness, the grass between my fingers instead of those snaking tendrils of nothing.

And then I hear two heartbeats. Two rapid, frantic, fearful heartbeats, pounding in my head as though the two hearts were inside of me, thumping inside my chest, through my veins. It’s all I can hear, both beats like drums inside of my head.

I finally open my eyes after not having control over my body for the last hours, the sun well below the horizon. It was just starting to dip below the treetops when I was plunged into the nothing, while I was watching my own siblings be killed, while I could do nothing to stop it. Hours have passed since then.

The full moon stares down at me, directly above in an eerily starless sky, only a patch of it visible past the ring of trees surrounding the clearing.

More darkness, reaching out for me, in my veins, and in my lungs, and in my mind, and in this forest, searching for me. Looking for me after I dragged myself out of its grasp, angry at my escape.

But I escaped it, and now I can blink. Now I can flex my fingers, my toes, bend my knees, put my hands under me as I haul myself into a sitting position on the forest floor.

My parents stand in front of me, terrified eyes watching me sit up before they flit to the three bodies next to me. Looking at my mother is like looking in a mirror, her brown eyes meeting my own, her fear matching my own. Her sleek black hair trembles around her, her hands shaking as she tucks the strands behind her ears, exposing her dark face to the light of the moon.

The three lifeless bodies lie bled out on the grass to my right. My siblings. I’jam, Ra'jem, and Solweh. My siblings. My family. Dead. Killed by the two people meant to protect us, life taken by the ones that gave it to us.

I turn a cold stare on my parents, the two of them still frozen in place with their fear. Fear I can smell dripping off of them, and it's a sticky sweet scent. They both stumble back a step, tripping over the roots and vines poking out of the forest floor, but manage to stay upright, their eyes locked on me.

My mother blinks, her fear quickly overshadowed by a wall of discontent. Of failure. A sliver of determination shining through. “You are supposed to be –” Our language sounds foreign on her tongue, wrong, like she has no right to speak it.

“Dead?” I snap, rising to my feet. “Like them?” My voice doesn’t even sound like my own, the gentleness of my young age replaced by a predatorial roughness, the growl of a horrid beast.

They both flinch but I don’t move towards them. Instead, I hurry to my siblings’ side. A wooden stake is still in each of their chests, put there by my parents before they turned on me. I yank out I’jam’s stake first, and then Ra’jem’s, and then Solweh’s, discarding all the blood stained stakes on the grass. The grass is reddened and sticky with their blood as it seeps into the soil, all the while I am crying and pleading and begging them to wake back up, to not truly be dead. I can’t lose them.

A pool of blood stains the ground where I just laid, more than what surrounds my siblings as though every last drop was drained out of me. As though a steady stream trickled from them while it flowed relentlessly from me.

But when I look down, where they had stakes shoved into their hearts, I have nothing. Just blank, unblemished, unharmed skin. My dress has been nearly sheared off of my body, the dirty rags hanging in scraps over my torso as if they couldn’t get it out of the way fast enough, tearing at it frantically with their hands and blades.

Yet there is no wound over my heart, no wounds at all under the blood smeared over my skin.

But as I turn back to my siblings, the wounds over their hearts begin to … heal. The grotesque, splintered holes carefully close up, leaving not even a scar in its wake. There is nothing but the holes in their blood stained shirts as evidence of their murders.

My parents, our murderers, do not move as I frantically attempt to wake my siblings, rooted to the spot with the fear of what they’ve created.

Their ritual gone so awry.

They had to have been planning this for some time, but they still happened to miss something, something that made it all go horribly wrong. They spoke to each other about their plans after they had drugged us with a magic spell, paralyzing our bodies, but not our minds, leaving us to hear and see what they were doing to us.

My siblings succumbed first, suddenly falling rigid in the middle of our evening meal, all within seconds of each other. One after the other after the other, they fell face first, wide eyed into their dinner. Fear and panic were alive in their eyes, the only thing they could move, as they tried to look around, tried to figure out what happened to them. I can never forget how they looked at me, as I sat there unharmed, or the look on my parents' faces.

My parent’s gaze had narrowed on me, surprised not that their children dropped to the table, but surprised that I had not dropped with them. That I was still sitting there, just as wide eyed as my siblings but still in control of my body.

I had tried to escape, to run into the village and gather help for my siblings, but I had not made it very far at all before the effects of whatever magic they performed hit me, dropping me there in the middle of the forest. I was unable to scream for help, unable to move, unable to stop them as they grabbed me and dragged me to this vile clearing in which we sit now.

The clearing in which they performed their damned ritual. A ritual meant to give them immortal life if successful, which clearly it was not. A ritual that included killing all four of their children, sacrificing our short lives for years added on to their own. Sacrificing our blood, our hearts, for a chance at immortality.

They killed me last, letting me lie there helplessly to watch, making sure I watched as they killed my siblings. To punish me for withstanding the effects of their magic for longer than my siblings. For attempting to escape them. For existing.

And it was hell. A mind-shattering, heartbreaking, life ending torture to be stuck there, stuck in my body as each of my three siblings had a stake driven through their chest, watching the fear and pain and life drain out of their eyes one by one until I was the only one left.

Until my parents killed me.

I do not remember my death, only the fire in my veins and the suffocating darkness I felt after they punctured my chest.

I wonder if my siblings remembered theirs. If they felt the same things I did. If they are going to wake up as I did.

If they do not …

I turn back to my parents, something like a snarl ripping between my clenched teeth, a sound I had never made before but feels instinctual now.

Their eyes widen impossibly further, a flicker beyond fear rippling through them, clutching on to each other as if to protect the other. Protect themselves from me.

Shielding my mother, my father raises a palm towards me, fingers splayed to the sky as he mumbles some unrecognizable language. Not our own. Slowly, a bulb of green light builds in his palm, stuttering and flickering as it gets bigger and bigger, his face clenching with what looks like an extreme effort to conjure the light.

Time slows. The wind stills, the birds quiet. My focus sharpens, and on instinct, my body prepares to spring towards the two heartbeats.

His elbow bends as if to shove the light towards me and in the same second, movement comes from behind me. A body flies past me, faster than I can see, faster than my father can track as she barrels right into him. With her arms wrapped around his body, they both plow through the trees behind him, knocking over spruces and oaks until they land on the ground, dirt and leaves flying in their wake.

His scream of pain pierces through the air.

Ra’jem pins my father to the forest floor, the same snarl that came from me ripping from her as he tries but fails to escape her strength.

The fear in his eyes, the scent of that fear leaking from him sends me to my knees, not wanting to stop my sister at all as she rips into his neck with her teeth, silencing his screams as she holds down his thrashing body until he stops moving completely. Until she pulls back with a gasping breath, a wild gleam in her eyes as she wipes the wave of red from her mouth with the back of her hand though it still drips down her chin and down her neck, merging with her own blood on her chest.

My mother whimpers and both of us whip to her where she lay, thrown aside during Ra’jem’s attack. Ra’jem looks at me, her eyes full of hunger and hatred. Something in her gaze softens as I speak her name, her crouched stance relaxing as she takes a tentative step towards me, our traitorous mother momentarily forgotten.

More so when I’jam wakes next, shooting to his feet in a fluid movement. He surveys the area: one sister on her knees just feet away from him, the other sister standing bloodthirsty over their father’s lifeless body, his brother still lying unresponsive next to him, and his mother cowering behind the broad trunk of a tree.

His fingers slowly lift to touch the place the stake had been, curling into the hole of his shirt but finding unbroken skin underneath. And then his eyes drag to our mother. The one that had killed him. The only one in the clearing with a heartbeat still thrumming through her veins, pumping that warm blood around her body.

Blood still dripping off of Ra’jem’s mouth. Blood filling the air between them with its scent. Its delicious, enticing scent. The mouthwatering aroma that draws a primal hunger out of me.

Her heartbeat echoes in my ears and suddenly, Ra’jem and I’jam are eyeing each other, wondering which of them will make her their meal first. Ra’jem, already satiated, relents, letting I’jam shoot across the space and rip into our mother’s throat just as our sister did to our father.

I turn to Solweh, having to look away before I hurl my guts up into the grass. My own hunger disgusts me, the lure to feed on them just as my siblings had, to let my mouth run full of my parents' blood.

What sort of bloodthirsty monsters have they turned us into?

I’jam is still feasting on her when Solweh gasps to life, sitting up and scooting back away from me in a panic. He, too, touches the spot on his chest and takes in the scene laid out in front of him.

I look to Ra’jem, panic and fear and some animalistic edge in her eyes before she turns and bolts, becoming nothing but wind and shadow as she flees in the blink of an eye, just as fast as she was when she ran at our father.

I’jam finally looks up and then looks at me, a single nod the only thing he gives me before he takes off after her. As if to say, I will find her .

So I turn my attention back to Solweh.

But he, too, is gone. Leaves sway in front of me with the air of his retreat, already out of sight. Leaving me alone in this clearing, except of course my parents’ bloodless bodies.

Swallowing my hunger, ignoring the intense burn in my throat, the aching in my stomach, I gather their bodies together, dumping them unceremoniously into the fire pit they had done their ritual over, few flames still flickering in the logs that go out as their bodies land atop it.

Following some new instinct, I place my hand on the logs and within a second, the flames burst to life, sending me steps backwards as they unnaturally engulf the two bodies. As if the flames themselves hunger for the taste of flesh. I look at my hand, but the fire is no longer there and I don’t try to bring it back.

I’m not sure how long I sit there and watch my parents burn, throwing leaves and sticks and dry brush on the flames every time they threaten to go out. Where this new power comes from, I can’t be sure. If my siblings now have the same powers, I can’t be sure. So many questions with no answers.

I stopped counting how many times the sun passed overhead, unmoving from my spot in the grass. The four dark spots still across from me on the other side of the fire as I now sat where they stood as they sacrificed our lives. The four imprints of our lives lost in those very spots. The grass wilted and died in our spots, leaving brown imprints of us in the earth.

After watching the flames for some time, something in me has me reaching towards them, my parents almost nothing but bone now. I ease my fingers into the roaring fire as it licks to life around my hand, engulfing it completely in its warmth.

Only warmth, I realize, as I felt nothing of the burning, even as my skin reddens and then blisters and blackens. I remove my hand, watching as the burns heal over only a few seconds, back to as if I had never stuck them in the fire in the first place.

I do it again, just to make sure I hadn’t imagined it.

And then again to contemplate why I do not feel anything other than a slight warmth as the flames burn my skin to a flaky crisp.

And then again to analyze the healing process.

And then again. Just because I could.

Because none of my siblings had returned.

Because I didn’t know where any of them were. If I’jam had found Ra’jem, if either of them found Solweh. If they continued to feed on others as they did to our parents.

Because my parents are dead.

Because I died.

Because my heart does not beat in my chest, yet I can hear my own blood moving easily through my veins, a steady stream without a pulse, like the angry roaring of a river. I am not quite dead, though I did brush death’s icy grip, yet I am no longer alive.

I am no longer human

I do not know what I am.

So once my parents are burned until they’re nothing but bones, sped up but whatever force draws that heat from my palms, I leave the clearing, towards the direction of Ra’jem and I’jam’s departure.

[hopewriteszstuff]

I have a headcanon.

The term "borrower" was originated by humans, and as borrowers developed a symbiotic relationship with humans, they gave that name to themselves as well.

But what about the time before that? The times where borrowers didn't result to borrowing from humans yet?

Or what about what non-humans call borrowers?

What if there's a synonym for the term "borrower", like there's synonyms for the word human?

I'm talking Archaic terms that are only used by beings older than time and space.

I think, they would call them,

"Children of Issun"

And it's derivatives, like "Son of Issun" for example.

Just like humans are called "Son of Adam", after the first human, Borrowers are named after "Issunboshi", the first person of the borrower species to ever exist, at least according to local folklore.

There's other variations, depends on the region and the experience of the person who used the term, but "Issun" is used widely, and it is considered a default.

I like the idea of an immortal using this term instead of borrower, because he has been there before they started borrowing.

Feel free to steal the idea!

Also this may or may not be mild spoilers for upcoming chapters? Dunno.

[hopewriteszstuff]

I don't understand how people just Do things without daydreaming. like how are you not off in a silly little fantasy world rn

[hopewriteszstuff]

Reblogging because This is one of the themes in my story and I love seeing more of it

a concept I don't see nearly enough of is borrowers being discovered. not by an individual human I mean, by humanity in general. people start looking for borrowers in their houses to help them, harm them or merely for the novelty of seeing one in person. protests and arguments over borrower rights and their place among human society, rich assholes who think they should be kept as pets and used for amusement vs the newly founded activist group protesting for full borrower rights, nothing more, nothing less. lil forbidden love story between a human and a borrower, their relationship is very much taboo to both humans and borrowers alike but they dgaf because they love eachother. specialty shops opening up selling borrower sized furniture, clothes and the like. borrowers slowly getting integrated into human society over the years. this concept genuinely has so much potential yk? it's always the mixed size society but never how we got to the mixed size society.

[hopewriteszstuff]

Always the writer, never the reader.

[hopewriteszstuff]

I'm a firm believer in the idea that media literacy is dying, now you can't even have metaphors.

please i love you i'm begging you bring back suspension of disbelief bring back trusting the audience like. i cannot handle any more dialogue that sounds like a legal document. "hello, i am here to talk to you about the incident from a few minutes ago, because i feel you might be unwell, and i am invested in your personal wellbeing." "thank you, i am unwell because the incident was hurtful to me due to my childhood, which was bad." I CANT!!!!

do you know how many people are mad that authors use "growled" as a word for "said"? it's just poetics! they do not literally mean "growled," it's just a common replacement for "said with force but in a low tone." it's normal! do you hear me!! help me i love you please let me out of here!!!

[hopewriteszstuff]

I feel you,I feel you so much, and truth to be told, I never feel comfortable about it.

I'm someone who is constantly haunted by "nobody cares about you" and I generally find the process of telling the world about my Ocs and my stories to be ... tiring? Exhausting?

But despite all that, I want to create the content I want to see, I want to write the story in my head and allow others to enjoy it as much as I do.

Perhaps there's someone, anyone out there, who wants to see the same things I want to see, someone who is comforted by me taking the courage to share my characters and my stories.

So yeah, you aren't alone in feeling awkward about it.

Right now I'm posting it for myself rather than anyone in particular, a second archive if you will.

How does one begin talking about her WIPs on Tumblr? Am I supposed to just sit down and type out, "Let me tell you about Avila, sister of Leofric the Alchemist..."

I truly feel so shy and awkward talking about the stuff I'm working on, but I want to talk about the stuff I'm working on. I work so hard to pretend to be confident and outgoing, especially when I'm online, but in my heart I'm still the shy girl I was in high school. How do you guys do it? How do you feel comfortable talking about what you're working on?

[hopewriteszstuff]

I write horror and Urban fantasy!

Alright, official call-out post for writers, authors, and fans of fiction.

I am looking for more writing mutuals and writing-centered blogs. Extra points if you write horror, historic fiction, thrillers, mysteries, or just generally off-putting and uncomfortable topics.

Please interact with this post somehow so I can check out your blogs!

[hopewriteszstuff]

Ask the Writer Game

1.       Is there a favorite character or title you enjoy writing for the most?

2.       Is there a least favorite character or title you dislike writing for?

3.       Name a fanfic/story you are particularly proud of writing.

4.       Where did you get your inspiration from?

5.       Where do you find your motivation?

6.       What would you say your strongest genre to write for is?

7.       What would you say your weakest genre to write for is?

8.       How many WIP do you currently have?

9.       Care to share a sneak peek of a WIP?

10.   What frustrates you the most as a writer?

11.   What’s something you have learned as a writer?

12.   Do you enjoy receiving feedback?

13.   What’s one thing you like about your blog?

14.   What’s one thing you dislike about your blog?

15.   What made you start to write fanfiction/stories?

16.   Any ideas you wanted to write about, but never did?

17.   If there’s one thing you could tell your readers, what would it be?

18.   Are there any topics you find difficult to write for?

19.   What is something your readers don’t know that you do?

20.   What’s one thing you want your readers to know about you?

21.   What’s your favorite writing advice to share?

22.   Care to share any future WIP ideas you have lined up?

23.   Most memorable review/comment on a fic?

24.   What future fics/events can we expect to see?

25.   Any open question!

[hopewriteszstuff]

A reminder that nothing I post here have been beta read or proofread

Enjoy :D

[hopewriteszstuff]

Chapter 5: Falcon and Bee

Last chapter

That was the worst sleep I had in my life! It was so short I didn't feel like I slept! And now I feel like someone is shaking me!

"Hey! Hey you! Are you awake?!"

Someone whispers loudly, I rub my eyes and squint a bit.

"Mhmm, I am now... Who is this?"

As I open my eyes, a face fills my whole vision, I scream and kick away from it.

"STOP!! STOP SCREAMING!! I won't hurt you!!" Hands like mine are put over my mouth.

I struggle around, and the person backs off, they let out a loud "Oof".

It's a borrower! Like me! They were just very... very close.

Now that they are further away, I can see that the other borrower has a pale face and pretty blue eyes, they also had short but fluffy black hair. I think they are a boy borrower.

"I'm going to let go, if you won't scream more, ok?" He tells me, and I nod.

"Are you, like, stupid by the way?"

What!! That was so very rude!! He can't say that!

"Hey! That's not very nice to say! You are mean!"

"Look at you! You have no shoes!" The boy borrower grabs my foot.

"And no bag! No food!"

"And this. This thing is on your back! Do you call that hair?! It's so big and dirty! It looks like a rat is sleeping on your back!"

I don't like this borrower.

"Why are you so upset at me?" I ask the boy borrower.

"Because I can tell this is your first night alone! You don't even know the basics of borrower survival! Why are you here anyway? If you don't know anything? Running away from home?"

"No! Why should I tell you?! Why are you here?! Alone?!"

"That's none of your business, Rat head."

"My name is not rat head! And..and what I do is none of your business too!" I stomp my foot and cross my arms, why is he such a bully?!

"Anyways, Rat head, It won't be too long before the librarian finds you, I'm going to a place with more borrowers, You can follow if you want, or let the librarian find you, Rat head."

More borrowers! Wait! Wait for me!

But then the boy borrower stands at the edge of the shelf, on his back. Are those a pair of wings?

He falls, and I thought he was gone, but then his wings carry him, and he flies just like a bird!

I run behind the bird boy borrower, and I cough a lot, there's so much dust in my nose.

After a lot of running, guessing, and looking around. I can't find him again!

I don't want a human to hear me. So I stop talking in human language.

Instead, I tap around one tap, two taps, and three.

I tap in a pattern, and I hear the same pattern close from here.

"Bird borrower? This you?" I message.

"Bird borrower? You must be new here! I'm Bee! It's nice to meet you!"

"So are you the bird borrower?"

"Hehe! You are silly! The bird borrower is named Falcon, Hey! Let's meet right now! Look for Natural history books. And take a turn to the left, You will find a mousehole behind it!"

"Got it!"

What is... Natural history?

It took me a while to find what Bee was talking about, my legs hurt from walking, and I didn't sleep enough!

I take the turn and look for the household, and there's no one there.

"BOO!"

"AAAAAHHHHH!!"

I scream as something tackles me and pushes me down, just what is wrong with this place?!

"HIHOWAREYOUYOUMUSTBETHENEWGIRLYOUARESOCUTECUTECUTE_"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!!"

I slip from the grip and take my breaths, the borrower that tackled me was shorter than me.

She had fluffy yellow hair, and I mean it, it wasn't blonde, I know what blonde looks like, it was Yellow, Like a banana!

Her hair wasn't fluffy like mine, it was very fluffy like it was made of cotton! Can... Can a borrower even have hair like this?

"How is your hair yellow?"

"That's a secret! What's your name, new girl?" She exclaims, she is too loud.

"N.Navarra, you are Bee, right?"

"Right on the money! You must have met Falcon, he is annoying at first but you will find him fun! Oh, speak of the devil! Here he is!"

The bird borrower, or "Falcon" as Bee calls him, flies to us with a grumpy face.

"Let's head inside," He orders us.

"Why do you have wings?" I ask.

"I'm special, that's all you need to know, Rat head."

I was about to respond to him, but Bee shakes her head.

"So, Are you the only borrowers here?" I ask.

"Nope! There are a lot of borrowers around the town, but they are hiding, you see, this city is like, super dangerous! Not only humans are everywhere, but there are even scarier monsters, that will eat you up! Like Vampires!" Bee explains to me.

"Uh... What's a vampire?"

Bee and Falcon look at each other, and they burst laughing.

"You..you don't know anything, do you, Rat Head?"

"N..no? What am I missing?" I'm more confused by the second.

"Everything, Where were you living? Under a rock?" He replies.

"Under a House, actually" I correct him.

"You really are stupid."

"Lemme explain!" Bee exclaims as we go further inside the hole, it's becoming a whole tunnel at this point.

"A Vampire looks like a human, but they have big teefs! Not as big as cats! Or dogs! Bigger! They use them to drink blood! Sometimes they drink from animals but I saw one eat a rat whole! Animals are just too small!"

"And..what about us borrowers?"

"We are their favorite snack, rat head."

"Oh"

I remember Mr. Lumen, he had big fangs too, maybe..maybe he is a vampire? Is that what Mr. Arsen meant when he said all those mean things?

"Can... Can a vampire be nice?"

"Oh bless your heart, Nav, you are so innocent! A vampire is the evilest thing ever! They can't even think about being nice! They will only pretend to be nice so they can eat you!"

I shiver, I don't want to be eaten.

"Humans can be outsmarted, but Vampires have strong senses, and they are smarter than a human. So consider yourself lucky if you did meet a vampire, that or the vampire took pity on you, Rat head." Falcon says.

"O..okay.." I shouldn't mention Mr. Lumen then.

"Where... Where are we going again?"

"To see a friend!" Bee replies.

"Is he a borrower?" I ask.

"No, but he is not a human either," Falcon replied.

"He is a ghost who lives in a computer!" Bee says.

I'm starting to have a headache, ghosts? Vampires? All of these are real?! Also, Bee talks too much.

I stop asking questions, and I take the time to look at Bee and Falcon.

Bee is wearing a cute pink dress, with flowers and frills and everything on it, it made me want to wear a dress too.

Falcon wore what looked like doll clothes, they were frilly too.

He also carried a bag, and what looked like a small, shiny piece of glass that he made to look like a sword.

His wings were bigger than him, and they were black and brown.

"We are here."

He says, the place is dark, but I can see a little bit around me.

Falcon flies and steps on something, and then a huge, blue square was glowing in the room, with a lot of numbers and letters flying on it.

I see him stepping on some stuff, and for a moment I didn't understand what was going on.

Then, I heard a voice.

"It's quite late right now, don't you think? Couldn't you wait till the morning?" a voice comes from the blue square.

"You are a ghost, Tobias, time doesn't make a difference for you!"

"Fair point, so what does the spy extraordinaire want from my infinite knowledge today?"

" We found this rat head, we don't know where she came from." Falcon points at me.

"Hey! I can speak for myself!"

"Yes, but you probably don't know how you ended up here, do you, Rat head?"

"Cut the poor girl some slack! So, Hey there, I'm Tobias, I know it's weird that I'm just a voice in a computer and all, but I promise you I'm chill."

"So sit down, take a deep breath, Bee will bring you something to drink, and you can tell us who you are."

" I..my name is Navarra, and I just woke up and found myself here, in this city."

I think I shouldn't say anything about Mr. Lumen.

"I learned that It's called New York and that I'm very far from home right now."

"Good, You are getting there, do you know where you used to live?"

"It was under a big house, next to a huge field! There were all kinds of animals! A dog, two cats, mice, cows, sheep, and chickens!"

"And then..then.."

Then they came.

I am shaking, I hug myself, and Bee gives me a blanket and a cup of tea, I recognize that cup, it was from a dollhouse.

"And then what?"

I refuse to talk.

"Well the good news is, I think I might have an idea where you used to live! Could you tell me more, please? Maybe we can find your family?"

"You are taking too long!"

"Shut your trap you little fuck, You can't even write on my keyboard."

"Now where was I?"

Bee hugs me and pats my head, I feel a bit better.

"Okay.. I will tell you what happened."

[hopewriteszstuff]

Reasons why you should Read "Of Smoke and Shadows"

1: The protagonist is a black, neurodivergent,Asexual vampire

2: The story is not about him curing his neurodivergence

3: Nor is it about him "Finding love"

4: It is instead about healing from past trauma

5: He adopts a Borrower, yay if you like that movie/series

6: She is black as well

7: Half of the cast are people of colour

8:I Am, in fact, a person of colour and I'm neurodivergent, so I am trying my best in portraying it organically

9: Urban fantasy is fun, I put my own twist on it too

10: Scp foundation themes let's go?

11: Disabled characters who have flaws as humans

12: accurate college experience

13: I'm just a girl 👉👈🌸

[hopewriteszstuff]

Hi hello

hi!! in need of moots who share a love for writing, creating ocs, world building, & all that fun stuff!!! i would love to have more people to be able to talk about ocs / canon characters, writing, and original universes with, so don’t hesitate to interact with this if this sounds like you!!!

[hopewriteszstuff]

Please comment spam, please show us enthusiasm, please pour the contents of your mind and heart to the people you like seeing content from, you might literally save a fic by doing so.

people who let me wake up to this get a special place in heaven. firefly_fox how does it feel to hold my life in ur hands....