*Unbricks Your Tsunamis*

this may or may not be a fantasy writing exercise for me. please reblog

TW FOR SUICIDE MENTIONED!! A LOT

Hey guys, don't fucking comment on a suicide prevention post by ENCOURAGING SUICIDE. Even if its your talking about yourself. THATS BULLSHIT. THATS ACTUAL BULLSHIT AND FUCKED UP.

Why the hell would you genuinely think that's okay?? I know your probably not mentally well as well. But why are you encouraging suicide for other people. Or promoting it as an actual solution. That's messed up and cruel. Dead ass.

Never do that. Never ever do that, even if your not okay at the moment. I don't care how fucked up your life might be, but if your saying that on an online platform. Even if you don't have any followers, or people who look up to you. Do not do that shit. It's bad for you, and can incline someone else to doubt themselves. Someone could've worked up the courage to call, and you little comment could've destroyed their entire idea.

I don't care how meaningless you think it is. To someone, it could literally stop them from trying to get help.

it's also really awful to do, so don't.

say hi to robert

Week 8 - Waking Up Dead

Creator: me :)

word count: 478

notes: Implied character death.

Basically, sometimes Cross has dreams that he’s living in a past timeline, and wakes up after he died in that timeline, and he’s unsure of his reality for a moment.

————————

He gasped, sitting up straight as he started at the empty training room.

He remembered taking a seat, just for a rest, but he must have fallen asleep.

“Damn it,” Cross groaned, trying to stand up. “I forgot to stretch.” He was sore. 

But that was just a distraction. A distraction from the countless lives he just witnessed. Memories he didn’t experience. Times he never lived. Moments he never saw. 

Deaths he never really felt.

How many timelines were there? At least ten… right?

Each time… he was overwritten. Sometimes painlessly, suddenly, without his knowledge. Other times though… not so much.

He was not hurt. He didn’t feel pain, but dream-Cross didn’t know that. Dream-Cross felt that pain. Felt that fear. Saw the blood. Witnessed the death. Faded into nothing. 

Even when he woke up, completely physically fine, everything within him was screaming something was wrong. Something wasn’t functioning. Something shouldn’t be.

He shouldn’t be alive

He just died.

Or at least… that’s what he thought.

But looking around, trying to remember his techniques, the more he saw that wasn’t true.

The training dummies, the powered off lights, his own hands, the windows leading to the rising sun, his daggers tossed away on either side of him.

His light weight training clothes, the training room floor beneath him, the cold concrete wall behind him, his soul beating in his own chest.

Pots and pans clanging in the distance. Killer’s loud voice occupying it. The sound of his own breathing.

The reminisce of dirt and dust lingering in the air, faint hints of breakfast wafting in.

Blood.

He could taste blood in his mouth.

Wait….

No he didn’t.

That was morning breath. 

He needed to wash up, a new day had started already.

Cross sat there a moment more, replaying what he thought was reality, over and over again in his mind.

He was dying. He did die. Didn’t he? Countless times. Over and over. Timeline after timeline.

Those were him dying.

He wasn’t just dreaming. He was remembering.

He did die. He has died. He was dead.

But… then how could he see the training room get flooded with light so easily as the sun peeked over the horizon. Feel the dirt between his fingers as he was reminded it was chore-day today. Nightmare walking downstairs to the kitchen in the old, creaky castle. The reminder of the old fluff that he tore out of the dummies last night. A reminder he went to sleep last night. 

And he woke up again this morning.

He wasn’t dead.

He was alive.

He was living.

And he had to live today.

He groaned, getting up, sore all over. He steadied himself in the wall and dissipated his daggers. 

He gave another deep breath, before he walked.

Walked away, out of the training room, and into his life.

He was alive.

When Bluesky, an app I just found through a friend, makes me feel like I'm taking a breath of fresh air. Here just take a look at it, I already like it despite having not used it yet. I just had to look around and it's nice- a break from the shitty bullshit of the Internet

It looks better then Twitter/x to be honest. For me anyway.

(the link will take you to the app on Google play. Idk if it's on any other devices. And obviously it's called Bluesky) ((if you're uncomfortable with clicking the link just look it up.))

Bluesky

WARNING!!!!

People, please be careful. There are also people tracking children and people and putting bids on them based on their profile pictures on whatsapp, tracking and kidnapping them. Especially young children, so please be cautious, especially parents who have their children as their profile pictures.

Please pass this on to everyone so that they are aware of the danger. I don’t how it is all around the world but I know it can’t just be here so please please spread the word. Thank you.

i love it when he sits like this. boy what are you doing!!!

his ass does NOT know how to sit criss cross applesauce!!!!

art by jakei