The Map Of Fae Story Is Living Rent Free In My Mind And Its All Your Fault.

The map of fae story is living rent free in my mind and it’s all your fault.

The MC has a name now. Look what you did. I have five WIP’s I do NOT need another one 😭

I’m too stubborn to be injured

This does not bode well for me

If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog :D

I got this from two people, @imaginativemind29new thank you, you lovely humans, I’ll give you six random facts to spread out the compensation.

1. If I don’t want to be found, I vanish. This could be because I am inside a dryer, or crawl space, or on the roof (I’m VERy good at blindfolded hide and seek). This also means sometimes people can’t find me even when they stand directly in front of me. Idk.

2. I cannot get cold. I used to be on a sports team that had us practice outside on the ocean, and it would be snowing at 20 degrees and I would be in a t-shirt and leggings. My coaches hated me.

3. I can and will get injured for no reason in the dumbest of ways (I’ve had three concussions, and the only bone I’ve broken is my skull, which barely counts) Hence the bruised rib. Do I know how these injuries happen? No.

4. I do not care for my own bodily health *see above* so I’m very good at theatre. Mostly because if I’m pretending to die, I will dead drop myself, and not in a safe trained way, in a “I am slamming my body into the floor so hard we’re verging on a fourth concussion”

5. If someone brings a package of dried seaweed snacks within ten feet I start vomiting. I can’t handle the smell, taste, or texture. Seaweed in all other forms is respectable.

6. People are afraid to give me matches. When asked for descriptor words that define me, they usually say “feral”

Find the word game

Thank you @jay-avian for the tag you lovely human. These are a disjointed mess but the words are in there I swear.

Yes, that was the problem. Lex was right. And she hated him for it, for looking at her and the blood she left behind and somehow knowing that she had liked the silence of it, the thrill, the heart pounding act of destroying something. A building. A body. A life. But mostly, she hated herself. What messed up person enjoyed the thrill of murdering someone, and then going home to make blueprints for weapons so devastating they could destroy half a city?

They found her three hours later, leaning against a wall in some random corridor she had decided was quiet enough, faces grim as they pulled out restraints.

Rain smiled and offered up her wrists. “That took you less time than I thought it would. You must be getting faster at this.” One of the cops gave her a disgusted look, and she winked. “I really am an upstanding citizen then, pushing the police force to better themselves. Really, I should be commended-”

They took one last step forward, and the door to the warehouse slammed shut with a final, rattling thump.

“They’re going to die,” Melody whispered, and Jules didn’t disagree with her.

A second later, the screaming started. The camera was abandoned on the ground.

Minutes later, two faces appeared in front of the camera, torches materializing in their hands. They wore skull masks—one with the horns of a bull bending over their face, the other with a blank white oval painted with the claws and pincer of a scorpion.

There was a grim air to them as the light flickered over the shadows of their masks. There was blood speckled all over them.

“They want me to come back,” she said after a moment. “It’s an offer.”

Waters looked at the wounds deep and violently etched into the skin, deep trailing symbols covered in barely drying blood. Around them, the grass was splotched with blood in a massive pentagram, a star with seven sides. At the very top, dug into the grass so erratically there were clods of dirt flung everywhere, was the word ‘Mercy.’

Jules walked to it to get a better view, taking care not to step in the blood. Melody glanced down at the faceless body and stood to follow her.

When Lucy finally stopped tasting the sickening mixture of salt and iron on her tongue, Elira told the crew to wait half a mark more before swarming to the surface. When they did, they found sunshine dappling the planks of the hull, a slight breeze brushing against any bare skin.

Tag you’re it!! @imaginativemind29new @clairelsonao3

I’m too lazy to tag more people so it’s open season for anyone who wants to hunt for words!

(I’m proud of that pun)

Heads up, Seven Up,

The remix

Since I’m unable to leave things unanswered (thank you for the tag @clairelsonao3), here’s a random seven lines from my post apocalypse WIP, because I made my friend play roulette with all my options.

Here’s a line for some vibes “There was a note of finality in his voice, and this time she did smile, that wretched smile she had learned when growing up in a government lab, that smile that almost looked agreeable but promised violence if the lights went out.”

“On your knees, hands interlaced behind your head.”

“Damn,” Rain cocked her head. “Where you born boring or did the Acadamy make you that way.”

She slid to her knees, cool metal seeping through her pants, and interlaced her fingers behind her head.

“Given up on pretending to be the innocent girl?” Carter questioned flatly. He slid behind her and pulled out a pair of cuffs to shackle her, ones she couldn’t see, but hear.

“I am innocent,” she let her voice quiver. “I just don’t want to be hurt and have you claim I was resisting arrest. I was just trying to contact someone about my situation—I have a right to a lawyer!”

The shackles slid onto her wrists, and they felt cold, tingling against her skin.

“Now I get the pleasure of finding a cell you can’t escape from.”

Good luck with that. She would be pressed to find a cell she couldn’t escape from herself.

“I didn’t do anything wrong—” she meant to let it slide out as a pitiful wail, but her tongue was sluggish in her mouth, sending out garbled letters instead. “What—”

“Biologically designed so slow the body process of the wearer down,” Carter said smoothly, giving the cuffs on her wrists a light tug. He pulled her to her feet, maneuvering her down the hallway, and it was a struggle to get her knees to comply.

Catch up, she thought bitterly at her body. You’ve dealt with worse than a little slowing agent, surely you can manage it now.

Why is tagging people so hard? @imaginativemind29new @jay-avian @clairelsonao3 @averyconfusedhuman @silver-ink-iron-words @poems-and-word

I promise I’ll post writing I just had one of my bad luck days (it’s ok that’s normal) and I got lithium poisoning and was very sick and then I got rear ended and then I sat in a hot car in a Lowe’s parking lot for three hours but at least I got published in a local lit mag but like I also have whiplash and my body hurts and I want to stop vomiting