#chaotic writes

So I originaly only wanted to draw for my Black Knight AU but uh.

The brainworms win

Ive started on a chapter of What Could Have Been :))

★ Thresh & Fat Fin Thread with @songs-of-the-windfish ★

Exactly 4 hours 11 minutes and 32 seconds pass before Thresh’s eyes snap open, revitalized once more from his short bout of sleep. His first thought?

SALTY BALANCES SWEET.

~A lil about me~

I'm British, 25 years old, with a whole host of bullshittry to my fractured mind. I fucking love to write and wanna start drawing too. I'm unemployed and have a very shitty sleep schedule. Feel free to message and dm me. If you're werid, I will block you. If you don't like my writing or literally anything about me, feel free to block me.

Dark clouds swirled around the snow-capped peaks while the wind-whipped, stinging rain battered my face. The gale force winds pushed me around, barely letteing me stay standing. Thunder rumbled above, and a flash of lightning illuminated the sky. I could barely see, the rain splattering in my eyes, temportarily blinding me. I shivered in the cold, despite having a great many layers of clothing on. There was a strange hum in the air that was barely audible through the storm, but it was most certainly there. It was a hum that denoted fear, a hum that reminded soldiers of watching comrades fall. It struck an icy blade of terror down my spine, and I shuddered once more.

 As I began climbing again- albeit not the wisest decision I've made -another strong gust of wind blew my right foot loose, and I slipped onto the frozen rock, nearly breaking a bone, I'm sure. The grass was diminishing, only sparse patches of frozen and dead blades of it appearing. As the altitude rose, so did my fear. I was terrified of what I might find up there, on top of the mountain.

 The flash of light had surprised everyone, myself included. We had never seen anything like it, and that alone was enough to cause a small-scale panic. The mountain was said to be cursed, and I was beginning to believe it. I alone had been sent up to investigate.

 Mount Diablo was well-known in our small town, if it is even that. It is known for claiming many lives of innocent travelers and explorers indiscriminantly. For generations, it has caused terror among the townspeople, and today, today was no exception. As I was walking about in the square, selling the knives and swords I smithed in my forge, a striking beam of light had appeared on top of the mountain, piercing the heavens. It was bloodred, the colour of the devil. It vanished a few moments later, but by then it was too late.

 Now, I was nearly at the summit. All life had ceased to be, and skeletons of others before me scattered the path, though not in one piece. Most were broken beyond recognition, though I did spot one who looked vaguely like the homeless boy that went missing a year ago.