Original Writing - Tumblr Posts

I should have left

when the kisses moved from my lips to my cheeks.

I should have left

when the warm hugs

turned into quick brushes.

I should have left

when a cold shoulder replaced

the one I leaned on.

When a few words

sparked arguments

and hour long silences,

I should have turned my back on you.

But I didn't

And that's my mistake to bear.

You were bitter

so, so bitter,

but your sweet aftertaste

had me coming back for seconds

and more.

I should have left when

my name on your lips stopped sounding like music

and your eyes

no longer held all the stars

in the night sky.

I should have left you

the moment we fell out of love.

you don’t know how much you meant to me.

how the words that left your lips

pierced my heart,

lurking in my head for hours.

how the sweet texts you sent

are locked up in my gallery

after all these months.

i look at them sometimes,

the screenshots taking me back

to a time that may have existed,

to a version of us

that looks perfect

in the haze of nostalgia.

is that a smile or a grimace?

a bittersweet taste on my tongue.

you don’t know how much you meant to me.

that drunken voice note still haunts me.

“i love you”s whispered in the dead of the night.

hours before dawn broke;

days before your heart did too.

i'm not sorry though.

i was sick of us,

sick of running in circles,

of the loop we were stuck in,

of our never-ending endings,

one step forward, two steps back.

you were a habit I couldn’t break,

but it was time to stop.

like a wilted flower clinging to a branch,

it was time to let go.

old habits die hard,

but as the nostalgia fades,

reality slams into me in waves.

and I’m glad I never told you

just how much you meant to me.

i ignore you for months

barely sparing you a glance,

rarely acknowledging your presence.

you've been by my side for years

saying nothing

as i break parts of you,

replacing them soon enough.

And when i fall asleep on your side,

you silently let me.

allowing my fingers

to dance down your neck

playing out melodies;

tunes sung on my command.

and when i scratch at your surface

out of sheer boredom

there is not a single word of protest.

the callouses on my skin

are a small price to pay when

i leave you for months

fascinated by someone new.

you watch soundlessly

as i hold someone else in my arms;

a new temptation this week.

but you know I'll come back

and i know

that when i do,

you'll welcome me with open arms.

This is about my guitar lol

Hate your love

when you said you liked my curls,

i spent hours

straightening them out.

you complimented

the calm blue of my nails,

so i painted them a fiery red.

then the skirts left my knees bare,

unlike the denim that kept them warm

before you said i looked good in jeans.

and the day your fingers tied

the laces of my high tops,

i replaced them with stilettos,

the heels as sharp as my tongue

slipping poison onto yours.

i didn't mind when your hands

grazed the flesh of my cheek;

after all, i craved it.

i wanted your lips chasing mine,

needing to stain them

the shade of my new lipstick,

wanted the pads of your fingers leaving icy trails

down the heat of my skin.

i craved your touch,

but i resented your affection.

with every change i made,

i swore to never be

what you wanted me to.

entangled in my fabrications,

deceived by a false sense of control,

little did i know,

that you had me

exactly where you wanted me.

i couldn't recognize myself anymore

and you loved every part of me.

i want to know the answers.

the correct ones,

the perfect ones,

the ones that will stop me

from gazing up at my bedroom ceiling

as the night passes by.

i’m afraid, though.

fear crawls up my spine

soaking my skin.

i'm afraid the answer

simply doesn’t exist.

am i in the wrong place?

or an old puzzle piece

unable to fit in the right place

due to edges frayed by time.

in her cruel nature,

she snatches everything away.

like a forest fire,

unrelenting as it turns

lush green to ash grey,

nothing but mournful black land in its wake.

but we can’t blame time,

for cruelty is in her nature.

so we blame ourselves;

i blame myself

for not fitting in,

for not catching up,

for not growing and

shaping myself into the mould

of other’s expectations.

and all I can do is wait

and hope time will do it for me:

hope time will smoothen

my frayed ends

or tear them off entirely—

whatever it takes

to make this the right place;

whatever it takes

to find the perfect answer.

Let go

i want to let go

let go of everything

that's keeping me closed.

i want to untie the knot and unravel the rope

wrapped tight around my body

holding captive

everything that i am.

it tightens further,

squeezing my insides

until my feelings are stuffed into my organs

and my arteries threaten to burst

and bleed blue.

all the frustration tucked into

the nooks and crannies,

coerced out of my heart,

leaving the vessel hollow.

and now it just screams to be filled.

i want to let go and explode,

uncaring of the consequences.

i want to crush

under the soles of my shoes

the titles and expectations

like i did my dreams

for they were 'unrealistic'.

assurances of 'you're still young'

don't comfort me.

let me be young then.

let me be reckless like the rain

as i watch from the safety of my window.

let me live like a storm

that wreaks havoc in a few hours,

the aftermath echoing for years.

i want to be unpredictable

like the weeping clouds that turn

the clementine sky gunmetal grey.

i want to let go.

*+.Forgotten Sky.+*

Chapter I :

{Morning Sky}

You haven’t heard , have you? No? It doesn’t really surprise me… after all, you and I are just spectators of this world, able to see it both bloom and wither away. You’ve just got here… so please allow this humble narrator to serve you throughout this lecture and explain this situation.

At Glossopharyngeal Academy Hm? Yes, I am aware it’s a plenty weird name, but who am I to judge? I am merely the narrator… not the author. Complain to her if you can’t remember it later. What was I saying..? Ah yes. At Glossopharyngeal Academy, a name that only a drunk doctor playing darts on a human body could ever give to a school, a rumor has spread like a weed in a flower garden. It was based on the unfortunate death of a first year student by the name of Avery Shiloh, who was killed by a fellow classmate, that pushed her off the school roof in a fit of rage. This incident took place many years prior to our tale and it disappeared like thin strings of smoke in a storms ruthless winds, but somehow someone remembered it. The new rumor slowly began corrupting the whole school until not even a soul was unaware of the name of ‘Caelum’ and her story. Let me see if I can recall it…

Every morning, as the sun begins to arise, the figure of a black haired girl will wonder around the rooftop asking if anyone is there. But beware that if you don’t answer in her favorite language, you will suffer her faith.

Avery was- forget it. I am a respectable narrator, keep on reading for your informations. I shouldn’t chitchat with the reader.

Our tale has its beginnings in a chilly early autumn morning. The freezing air painting uncertainty in the students lungs. Strings of aa yet to be identified sensation sewing through their every muscle holding their members tight against their bodies. As much as they yearned to drown themselves in the cold and rigid new uniforms, to hide from that feeling, they didn’t. They couldn’t. It was just an irrational fear; ghosts, legends and monsters are just peoples’ imagination… right? And even if spirits were real, there’s no way they’re as people describe them… “How bad can they possibly be?” A thought that sung in the first years’ minds in unison. Even though the minds of two of the new students, played the same tune. A girl and a boy. And to respect the cliches.. the girl was scared of the possibility of ghosts in the school and the boy was swearing his eternal friendship with her.. or any other things other writers say. But leaving jokes aside, the truth is… the blonde boy with disheveled was the one scared out of his mind, shaking from each and every joint. If he didn’t have human form, he might be mistaken for a jelly during an earthquake. On the other hand, the girl, calm, more than a statue, was trying, not really that much, in all honesty, to make the jelly-human relax.

“Enzo, please, stop it. You look stupid.”

She says without too much emotion, for a few seconds placing her hands on Enzo’s raised shoulder, in a failed attempt to get him to stop shaking. She removes her hands to straighten her clothes some more, if that was even possible. Unlike our scared jelly’s, whose clothes divulged emotions happily, ruffled, his head dug in his shoulders and his pupils as contracted as they get, allowing their azure color to shine through, the girl didn’t show a drop of fear. Hair of the same color as Enzo’s eyes perfectly tied in a ponytail, not a rebellious strand dared to ruin. Neither did her uniform have any wrinkles, even the fibers seemed to be systematically aligned. 

“W-W-What!? You’re telling me that you aren’t scared, no, te-terrified that we are… we are going to.. be in the same school with… g-g-ghost…!?”

Cries out Enzo, playing the buttons of his uniform in between his trembling fingers. Pinching the bridge of her nose the girl sighs, but before she’s able to add something, a voice gentle and steady covers the school yard.

“Good morning, my respectable students and parents. I am more than honored to welcome you to our school.”

All of the participants’ eyes dart towards the source of the sudden sound. A stage- it’s not really a stage.. How should I appraise it…? Should I be a polite narrator or.. say my true opinion…? Honesty is always the key.. right…? Anyhow, the cube with stairs that held the place of a stage. Everyone’s eyes dart towards the so called stage, but while doing it the girl’s eyes glide towards the roof by accident. Her blood runs cold, freezing in her veins. On the railing, dangling its legs carelessly, a foggy figure waves at the girl, after it’s saw the figure leaps backwards evaporating on the roof.

The eyes of the shocked girl widen, her eyebrows furrowing and lips parting slightly. A sharp breath, that felt cooler than the one before, cuts into her lungs.

“Are you o-okay…? G-Grace…?”

Hearing her name turns towards Enzo, who, at sight of the shock on her face, starts shaking even more. Grace murmurs a “yes” before turning her attention to the “stage” again.

Ahhh… I don’t feel like talking so much! What a sadistic author; not even having on mercy her poor and ever loyal narrator! Ugh… enough with the complaining.. or else I’m never going to finish this…

To no one’s surprise, the one making the announcement was the principal. A well respected and renowned gentleman, mainly known for his habit of implementing unusual rules, to keep the students in check. Most were reasonable.. some weird.. but some were… questionable… Some were saying he was nuts, while others said he was good and slightly (more) chaotic. 

With the legend of Caelum covering the school like the thin layer of ice on shallow a body of water, under the merciless rule of winter, the principal’s punishments became harsher, bit by bit. Of course they were no longer go to the five classes while wearing a fish shaped hat to taking a test with the grade above.

I suppose I will allow you to discover the rest later on, because if I told you everything from the first chapter, I would lose my job, wouldn’t I?

—————————————————————————-

Yay thanks for reading! See you next time!

*+.Forgotten Sky.+*

You can read chapter one here Chapter two:

{Imaginary fish}

“How many times do have to tell you? Ghosts aren’t real.”

Sighed Grace, even if gradually started to believe an altogether distinct story—one she was not going to admit to her blonde friend—this dreadful school was succeeding in making her believe the existence of living dead. She closed her eyes and heard Enzo attempt shakily to respond, but his words had been substituted by a screech rather than understandable words. His legs stopped circling the little pond, as if the grass had grown over his shoes and tied them to the damp, cold soil.

“A-ACK!! WHAT’S THAT?”

He cried in one fearful breath, Grace's face started acquiring on the hues of sheer perplexity. The boy with hair as if of gold thread indicates to something rectangular of shape laying just beneath the small body of water’s surface. The movement of the liquid mutilating the even edges, making them tremble in an irregular manner, a distorted, almost human like face peeking through the waters. It rested under the shadow of the old ebony wood bridge decorated with carved flowers painted shade of red, lightened by the never ending cycle of passing time, an ashy cat tiredly swaying its tail to the beat of the sky’s murmurs. Enzo clutches the song, playing nervously the buttons of his uniform between his fingers, to the deaf beat. He glanced at Grace, with eyes that only divulged a mimic of taintless horror to plaster itself on the boy’s face. To his despair, the friend he oh so much trusted, mirrored his facial expression — a sight seldom observed to such unimaginable extent —. Grace’s mouth opens a little, a short sigh escapes. Leaving room for much interpretation she throws her cardigan at the trembling blonde boy, the buttons hitting with a pok. Not asked if he wanted to be a clothes hanger, but not given another choice either, Enzo wrapped his fingers around it tightly, not daring to let it touch the ground. Grace advanced forward, kneeling before the pond, her gently entering the water, watching it part for a few seconds under the pressure of her fingers. Like vines her fingers attached to the picture frame, but for an unidentifiable reason the water refused to part ways with it, a dome of water forming over Grace’s hand.

“How dare you try and take my precious photo, human?!”

Cries out an high pitched voice, even if it was far from possessing any sort of force, the two first years’ fall to the ground. A wind of confusion and terror respectively nail the blue haired girl and blond boy to the soil. And I can happily announce Grace’s cardigan still hasn’t touched the grass and instead was kept up in the air by Enzo’s stiff arms. And there. Right before their very eyes, it skipped atop the greenish, still water. A being with petals of incarnadine roses scattered on its head, the water glueing them the blueish skin. Horns and a tail of lilac smoke raising to the cloudless sky. The light azure porcelain skin filled with long cracks.

“Vanish from before my eyes!”

threatened the being, though the intent would have certainly shone through better if it wouldn’t have had the height of a fork and held one in its tiny hand. The two friends stared at each other, a bow of dread taking a hold of their throats, that neither can swallow away.

“Stop ignoring me, silly humans! Begone!”

“W-what… what are you…?”

Grace questioned, the ribbon of fear of the yet to be known desperately trying to take back the words just spoken. A laugh that caressed their ears with a sanding paper meekness arose from the fish-like being.

“I’m Astra, of course, you mindless mortal!”

The water of the pond moved faster. As Astra stumbled running towards the confused and frightened first years, another voice sliced the silence.

“You had your fun, Astra. Leave the students alone.”

———————————————————

Yay!!! Thank you for reading!~ Hope you liked it!!

GO CHECK OUT MY WRITING BLOG PLS 😭

THE ARCHIVES - PROLOGUE

July 2nd 1916

Jean Farley’s B5 brown ankle boots clattered down the marble corridor of the Archives. Tapestries depicting the stories of great heritage warriors and soldiers- battling and fighting illustrated monsters to protect their sacred Earth - blurred past as she kept up her fast stride to the atrium of the underground structure. For Centuries, the Archives had thrived in its duty to protect the humans of the world. Collecting and protecting magical and legendary artefacts and books and weapons that could perish the world in the wrong hands. For hundreds of years, the Heritages (the people of the Archives, gifted with a power that ran down in families) had laid down their lives to protect and save the Earth from unearthly creatures. And now the only thing threatening the Earth: the people on it.

Keep reading

Wow the first post I'm making and I've had this account for how long?! Welp, good of a time as any. I recently made this bundle of joy and I'm quite proud of how they turned out. For context, this was originally a grim reaper OC that I played in character.ai. (Very cringe I am aware)

They were originally a really boring run of the mill grim reaper that wasn't any different from the original. I really wanted them to stand out from other grim reapers I've seen and honestly it ended up better than I expected, so here they are:

Tenshi Nevermore

Age: Unknown

Species: Reaper

Gender: N/A and doesn't care what pronouns are used to refer to them

Sexuality: Aro/Ace

Height: 8'0"

Backstory

Reapers are soulless beings that do not have any emotions and are naturally apathetic creatures. They exist in a realm completely devoid of life. It's a barren, dull, desolate wasteland with the only surroundings being random huts built by the Reapers out of sheer boredom. Many Reapers have died out as a result of their eternal boredom, so very few remain in this realm. Getting sick of letting the boredom overtake them, Tenshi left the realm in search of a purpose for existing, picking up bounty hunting as a way to hunt for souls, the only thing they are able to eat. They wound up in Hell after taking a bounty to kill a seemingly harmless demon named Azamuku, but failed to do so due to the demon matching them in strength. They gained their own way of respect for the demon, spared her, and overtime the two gained a one-sided friendship with Azamuku being the one wanting friendship and Tenshi only keeping her alive to have an occasional rematch from time to time.

Description

Completely skeletal with no organs or skin. Their skull is like a raven's with a torso similar to a human's but the fingers have very sharp ends akin to claws and the legs and feet are talons with black claws. On their back they have black feathered raven wings that span 9 feet which allows them to fly. Tenshi does have blood-red pupils but they only appear when they sense they are in danger or when trying to be intimidating. Their eye sockets are usually empty otherwise. Their attire consists of a black cloak with a hood fashioned with pockets on the inside for storage and black skinny jeans tailored to fit their proportions. All of Tenshi's clothing were made by Azamuku much to Tenshi's protest against it. Their voice is deep, but feminine sounding which is unusual compared to others of their species who have raspy bass voices.

Personality

Nonchalant and non-caring. Due to them being a Reaper, they were born without a soul, rendering them incapable of feeling any emotions so they come across as cold and apathetic. They are also impatient and can be annoyed very easily if prompted. They speak in a soft and monotonous manner when relaxed, but speak with a menacing and sadistic tone when on a job or threatened. Coming from a realm devoid of any life and a bleak colorless atmosphere, they also have an undying boredom that is nearly impossible to satiate. The only times it is temporarily relieved is if they successfully complete a bounty or fight a strong opponent that nearly kills them but it only lasts for a few minutes before coming back. They have a quirk when speaking where instead of saying "god" they instead say words synonymous to nothingness, such as "null".

Likes

Souls

Quiet areas

Combat (takes bounties often for this reason alone)

Melee weapons

Dislikes

Killing things (due to the mess, they'd prefer to just rip the targets' souls out and leave them as husks, but will not hesitate in completely killing them if their job requires it)

Loud constant noise

Boredom

Targets talking to them while fighting

The other members of their race due to their idleness

Guns, Bows, any weapon that is ranged

Weapons

A scythe with the snath being made out of a reinforced, durable dragon spine that has grips wrapped in black leather to make fighting with it easier. The blade is made of a sharpened dragon tooth

Very sharp dual wield daggers carved out of femurs

Strengths

Remarkably clever and observant when in a fight, finding their targets' weaknesses quickly and able to capitalize on them efficiently

When disarmed, they are alarmingly strong despite being skeletal and they are able to maneuver in an agile manner due to their light weight

Creative, and learns crafts rather quickly. Their forging skills are impressive, considering their weapons are made of bone and do not break easily

Weaknesses

Due to their anatomy having avian features, their bones are hollow much like actual birds so they take damage much more severely

Them being quick to annoy also can hinder them in combat, often resulting in them lashing out without thinking and becoming predictable

Tends to underestimate opponents a lot and pays gravely for their error

Very stubborn and will not retreat unless absolutely necessary, which has almost killed them numerous times

You'll need to know this for the test

Tenshi is the shortest of their race. The average height of a Reaper is 12 feet.

Reapers do not care about identity, so none of them have names. Tenshi only has one because Azamuku started calling them "Tenshi" one day and they just got used to it. Their last name they picked for themselves after hearing Azamuku recite an Edgar Allen Poe poem

Tenshi's screams of rage sound like a distorted mix of a Falcon call and several blood curdling screams screaming in unison

Tenshi can die, but eating souls actually adds to their lifespan, making them artificially immortal. If they do not eat souls within the span of 5 years, they will die

When Reapers die, their body disintegrates, leaving nothing behind. They are unable to be resurrected due to lacking a soul

Whenever Tenshi sustains damage, they are able to heal by eating souls, how many they need to eat depends on how severe the damage is

Tenshi can physically feel, such as touch or pain.

When they kill a target/opponent, they usually take a random bone from the body, either as proof the target is 100% dead (they usually just present their soul though) or as a keepsake if they deemed them worthy to remember.

Tenshi has a hidden fascination in weaponcraft and whenever they encounter a new type of weapon, they start studying it immediately. If they like using it enough, they will design one of their own using the bones they have collected

Tenshi can only play most video games for a couple minutes before immediately getting frustrated and/or bored, but they are able to play for longer if the games are specifically Minecraft or Toribash, where they will go for days playing them nonstop.

In Minecraft, Tenshi has a habit of making dirt shacks and completely forgetting where they built them when they go too far from them, so they build a new one and the cycle repeats until the world is littered with abandoned dirt shacks 30 chunks apart from each other...and they will still forget where their numerous dirtshacks are and keep building new ones.

Tenshi is 5th Dan in Toribash and finds enjoyment playing Aikido Big Dojo and Lenshu

If Tenshi played Smash Bros Ultimate they would main Greninja (They would find enjoyment for a few minutes, but never play again since they prefer "realistic" fighting over cartoon violence)

If Tenshi played Mario Kart 8 they would main Dry Bowser and Bone Rattler (They find racing games really boring)

If Tenshi played Splatoon, they would primarily use Splatana Stamper and Splat Dualies (They lack the necessary patience to play shooter games)

If Tenshi played any Pokemon game, they would use only Ghost and Dark types (They think RPGs are tedious and frustrating, especially those with exp systems)

You will find here a list of all my projects/stories that I posted. -> edited each time I add chapters ;) 🔺All of my work is original, please do not steal or copy. If anything might seem plagiarized it is an unwanted coincidence, please notify me. Thanks :)🔺

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

🍄 - 𝓜𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮, 𝓟𝓸𝓹𝓹𝔂

My lovely persona <3

Meet the artist.

🪻- 𝑷𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒔

Introduction

Pansy n°1 = F*cking writer’s block.

Pansy n°2 = I love English.

Pansy n°3 = "I'm tired".

Pansy n°4 = A little catch up.

Pansy n°5 = Reality ? No thanks...

Pansy n°6 = Oneiric inspiration.

Pansy n°7 = My mind's safe space.

Pansy n°8 = Who are my / our Husbandos ?

Pansy n°9 = I'm "over"-everything.

☎️ - 𝓑𝓪𝓫𝔂 𝓗𝓸𝓽𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮

Obsessed with the idea that the villains 'help' being more powerful than the villain itself.

☆°•¤▪︎.☆°•¤▪︎.☆°•¤▪︎.☆°•¤▪︎.☆°•¤▪︎.☆°•¤▪︎.☆°•¤▪︎.

The Villain had never underestimated their abilities to kill without remorse. In fact, they knew very well of their dumb Lackeys ability to do so.

Though the Villain had one classic flaw. The one thing that is such a cliche but usually the key to their downfall. The Villain was overconfident, believed that they were invincible.

And as soon as they approached their quite expendable goon, they pulled out their gun, aimed at their head. After all, they wore out their usefulness. The Villain didn't need them anymore.

Though as soon as they cocked the gun, the Lackey was facing them, barely a foot away with their own gun pressed between the Villains jaws. And that damn Lackey looked unbothered, as though this never came as a surprise to them to be betrayed this way.

The Villain felt their eyes widen at the words following the 'clack' of their Lackey cocking their own gun.

"And now, why don't you beg for me to not blow your brains out and just forget this ever happened, my dear?"

The Abyssals Sneak Peak - Katya - 2203

~ Ekaterina ‘Katya’ Petrovna Zhigunova, originally from Earth; Deep Space Biological Systems Engineer, class one licensed; aboard the CosmoExplorer V Mission, en route to the first non-native solar system reached by humanity: tasked with helping to create a sustainable, orbital colony. ~

DISCLAIMER: ALL IMAGES, DRAWINGS, & PHOTOGRAPHY HERE ARE NOT MY OWN. ALL IMAGES WERE FOUND ON PINTEREST AND BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL CREATORS. No profit is being made from the images above, they are simply used to convey the personality/appearance/storyline of my original character.

a withered rose

A withered rose that my mother picked from the front yard.

It was doomed a dead the moment she picked it and gave it to me

I tried to save it

Quickly putting it in a glass bottle i had painted clouds on

It didn’t work it was to late

On valentine's day i was gifted a rose

A kid had died and the family donated them to every girl in school that day

It was a gesture in his honor

And it felt nice to actually receive a flower for valentine's day

Even if it wasn’t from a love interest

I made sure to put it in a glass vase before it had a chance to give out and wilt

I looked at both the roses sitting beside each other

One void of the life it once lived in the front yard

The other alive and well commemorating the dead

Which one was prettier?

The dead or the dying

At the end of the day

They were both just roses

I cannot truly say my younger self would be disappointed of present me and future her because I do not know her I never will get the chance to know her because she herself no longer exists

The scars

The blood

The sharpness of the blade dragging across your skin

The breath of release

The release of all the bad feelings

The pain

If you focus on the pain

You can't focus on the bad thoughts

You don't have to think about the loneliness

or the anger

or the sadness

The emptiness in your chest

You don't have to think about any of it right now

How bad you're getting

How bad you've already gotten

The feeling of pain washes out any other thought

Drowns it out

Before the familiar guilt floods in

The anger

The sadness

The loneliness

The emptiness

Now being replaced with that horrible feeling

Being trapped by long sleeves, bracelets, and, concealer

Please don't make me stop

It helps

That night

That night you walked a few feet away from the others, knowing I would follow you

Knowing when I did we would be entirely alone

Just the two of us

I don't remember what we talked about

All I can remember is the feeling of your lips on mine

You kissed me that night

You kissed me so out of the blue

So out of nowhere

With such a hunger and need like you couldn't stop yourself from doing it

My eyes closed as our lips collided for the first time in months as if no time had passed

It all happened so fast I could feel my eyes widen in surprise when you pulled away

The shock that filled my body when you took the opportunity to kiss me

Not knowing how I'd react

And still doing it anyway

As if you would never get another chance

I could feel the involuntary smile too

The same one that appears everytime I replay that night

I replay it more than I'd ever admit

I can't get it out of my head and I probably blush every damn time

The night you kissed me

The memory repeats itself over and over

My mind went completely blank and I just looked at you

You told me I was blushing

I told you that it was too dark for you to tell if I was

I wonder if you knew I wanted to kiss you

I wonder if you knew I thought about doing it the entire time we were together that night

How badly I wanted to

I was too scared to do it

But you weren't

You let the love you had for me bubble over

And suddenly it didn't matter if it was wrong

Because how could it be wrong

When it felt so right

I love you, you know

I love when you kiss me in public

I love when you show me off and love me loudly

you do not care who sees

You do not care what any of them think

Or what they might say

Your focus is entirely on me

And I love it

I love how you always hold my hand when we are walking

You tell me I'm pretty even when I do not know how to respond

I love that you are so sure about me

I love that we have let each other go and yet we still came back to one another

It means it's real

That you could see how bad I self sabotage my own happiness

And how want me anyway

And chose me anyway

You have picked me over all the other girls you may have liked before

I love it

And I love you

Even if I do not know how to say itI hope you know it deep down

I love you

I love us

Maybe if I was prettier

Or skinnier

Or smarter

Or quieter

If I was enough for him

Maybe he'd love me again

Or maybe he would love me

Did he ever?

His actions make me doubt his words

But still I desperately wish to be enough

The Law of the Jungle

TW: Dinosaurs, you know the drill

Chapter 1: The Headhunters

"Where the hell are we?" "The Kings Lair"

The waves of the pacific rocked the sides of the large metal ship, causing it to bob and sway gently. The feeling would be soothing, if the boat wasn't filled with some of the greatest mercenary teams in the world. The Jackals, Death Fighters, and White Claw were all present on the ship. This did not phase the young Jacob Marvin "Leatherback", captain of the mercenary crew "Headhunters." He instead sat on the hard metal seat, playing out the beat to his music on his leg. Jacob was a tall well muscled man, with long spikey dark brown hair, that stuck stubbornly out of the back of his head. He wore a leather eyepatch over his left eye, which when combined with his beard scruff, gave him a rough, rugged appearance. He wore a green camo tank top, and dark green pants, which helped deal with the humid heat of the tropical atmosphere.

He lifted his wide brown hat and turned to face the man sitting next to him, the crew's sniper, Troy Hall, "Copperhead". Troy was slightly leaner than Jacob, with his long light colored hair spilling out from underneath the back of his patrol cap and headset. His most defining feature was the black mask that covered his mouth and nose that he always wore. He had sharp eyes with longer eyelashes that were the color of ice, the kind that pierced deep into anyone's heart. Troy turned to his captain and nodded, standing up and grabbing his gear. It was time to get the crew together, they were inbound.

Jacob led them up the stairs, as two more followed behind. These were Jack Wilds "Lagoon," the scout, and William Hager "Gator." Jack was a taller, lean man with dirty blonde hair, tucked neatly away in a grey patrol cap. Will was a short but stocky maori man, with long curly black hair that reached the base of his shoulderblades. As they all reached the deck of the metal ship, the light shone down on them brightly, causing those who weren't wearing sunglasses or a hat to squint and see what was ahead. It was a large tropical island, with an extrodinary view. "Damn fine place they're taking us" said Jacob, putting a hand on his hat. "Indeed captain" says Troy, putting his hands on the rail of the ship, trying not to get motion sick. This made Will laugh, and he slapped Troy's back "Don't get sick on us now" he said in his thick aussie accent "We still got a job to do" "Shut up" Troy snaps back with a glare, causing Will to laugh harder, "So where are we Cap'n?" Jacob paused, he had no idea where they were, the scientists who hired them said it was confidential, but the pay for this guard and escort duty was high, too high. It only meant one thing, this job was going to be one hell of a time "We're inbound to some rando island, but if the report is anything, it's supposed to be teeming with 'Dangerous Wildlife' so stay sharp" They all readied for the landing, each loaded up with their individual packs. These packs were specialized for them, containing equipment for long distance jungle treks. As they set foot on the island, regrouping with the rest of the mercenaries, they got to see the scientists they were escorting for the first time. There were 8 scientists in total, leading the pack was a female scientist with short red hair. "All right, we'll be heading to the eastern corner of the island, and in 2 weeks we'll be out of this green hell" she shouts to the mercenaries, who respond with the usual grumbles, as they begin hacking a path through the jungle.

Only 2 hours into the trek, and the whole of the Headhunters were sweaty, tired messes. Sweat stuck Jacob's shirt right onto his chest, his breathing heavy as he held his gun up, searching the jungle for any of the "Dangerous Wildlife" the doctor had talked about earlier. The things he and the crew had heard in the forest were unnatural, the chirps of some unknown creature. Troy had trouble identifying the birdlike prints on the ground. As he continued down the path, he froze, a familiar feeling washing over his body. He was being watched no, hunted. He searched the jungle, but could see nothing. Until he looked up, looked way up. Towering above him was a large leathery beast, with rough red skin, covered in scars. From what he could see, it's lip peeled up from a scar, showing a missing bottom tooth, it's nose topped with a single bone horn. As it gazed at him with an empty eye socket, he realized what he was looking at.

He was looking at a dinosaur

If you made it this far, it means you read it! Thank you beautiful reader, for reading my thingie. It means a lot, and I hope to see you again in chapter two!