Original Writing - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
The Law of the Jungle
TW: Clifford the big red dinosaur eats people in this one, so Dismemberment, blood, gore, violence, that sort of thing
Chapter 2: One-Eyed Beast

"That's a big fucking dinosaur"
Troy stood frozen by fear. This was a genuine dinosaur, a real fucking dinosaur. "Jesus Christ" He said in a hushed voice, as he slowly backed away from the massive beast. The red creature, which he knew to be a ceratosaurus, cocked it's head, looking at him with one good amber eye. Troy kept his guard up, as the ceratosaurus stepped off into the pathway, leaving deep prints in the muddy ground. It let out a large bellow, causing Troy to cover his ear and wince, as he slowly crept back to the rest of the group just as they were arriving.
Jacob felt the fear wash over all of them as the small army of mercenaries beheld the dinosaur. It was then that it clicked for Jacob, he knew where they were, they were on the abandoned Lost World National Park. It was supposed to be closed off since the incident, but Jacob figured this wasn't exactly a legal job. It was as he made this realization, that the beast attacked. it lunged forward, scooping a man up in its jaws, just barely missing Troy, who tumbled out of the way. The man screamed as he was torn apart and mutilated by the one eyed beast's mouth
"Scatter!" one of the mercenaries yelled, and all hell broke loose. Some marines tried taking shots at the ceratosaur, but nothing seemed to faze the dinosaur, as it trampled over mercenaries, taking bites out of those who could not escape it's jaws. Jacob found himself desperately searching for his crew, who were all scattered in the panic. In the chaos, he eyed the doctor he had seen earlier, the red haired woman running frantically into the woods, alongside another dark skinned man with glasses. Remembering his job, he chased after them, deeper into the jungle
Troy had gotten knocked back by a large red tail, and awoke to find himself lying helplessly next to a tree. He rubbed his head with his right hand, trying to ease the throbbing pain in his mind. As he stood up, he found his elbow had been lodged in the tree. Panic began to creep in the back on his head, as he tugged. The rumble of heavy, mighty footsteps crept closer and closer. Frantically, breaking his usual cool and calm composure, he pulled even harder at his arm, threatening to tear it off.
The monstrous red beast finally came into view, pushing the jungle aside with its massive bulk. Troy knew what this meant, but he stayed as still as he could as the creature approached. It stopped right before his limp forearm, sniffing it once, twice. Troy could feel its thick, hot breath against his skin. He forced back the urge to shudder as the beast ran its long, powerful tongue across his arm. Troy held his breath, and closed his eyes, praying for it to go away, to leave him alone.
That's when the ceratosaurus stuck, with a crack and the sickening sound of tearing flesh. It ripped off Troy's arm as if it were nothing but paper. Pain and addrenaline surged through his body as he took off running, stumbling through the jungle as the dinosaur roared after him. Clutching his arm, he tumbled over a vine, rolling further down the muddy slope, hitting his head on a root. The world faded into black as he landed on riverbed, the blood from his arm trickling into the river.
Law of the Jungle
TW: Missing an arm, blood, more dinosaurs choosing violence, the usual
Chapter 3: Blood in the Water

"Numerous dangers lurk below the murky waters of this ancient river, waiting for it's next meal. Don't let it be you"
Troy awoke suddenly, as the pain in the stump of his forearm surged back like a flood. "Fucking hell" He groaned, his breaths growing slowed and sharp as he gripped the stump, quickly tearing a strip of fabric from his shirt to tie a tourniquet. The bleeding quickly stopped as he began wrapping bandages where only seconds before his arm had been. He weakly stood to his feet, brushing off his pants and picking up his hat, placing it back on his dirty hair with a dusty thump.
Further up the river, Jack came to his senses. All he remembered was nearly getting trampled by a homicidal lizard. "Glad to see you up mate. Thought I lost you there" Jack turned to see William paddling the large raft he found himself in. "Where is everyone else?" William set down the paddle, squatting down to look his best friend in the eyes. "After that one guy yelled scatter, we all went seperate ways, I saw Jacob go chase after some scientists, and I saw Troy get smacked and fly down the hill." He said, his voice a bit more serious than usual "Then I saw you passed out on the ground, and I couldn't leave you to get eaten or anything, so I grabbed you and booked it" William punches Jack's shoulder gently. "Those two can handle themselves, I couldn't let you get eaten" Jack smiled, happy that if he was stuck in this green hell, he was stuck with in it with his best friend.
Troy trudged deeper down the river, waist deep in the cloudy river. He pushed the thoughts of whatever horrors lie beneath his view aside. His bare calves would occasionally brush against what felt to be slimy prehistoric fish, or something far worse. He eyed the shore, where the red devil of a dinosaur lurked, watching him with it's hollow empty socket. Troy had no doubt that it was eager to get enough bite of him, to finish the job. "Go find another meal, you red bastard!" He shouted to the beast, which responded back with a bellow. What Troy didn't realize as he vented his rage out at the dinosaur, was that there was a very important reason why it wouldn't enter the river, a reason that was slithering it's way towards the one armed sniper.
Deep in the jungle Jacob trailed behind the scientists. It was easy to track them, not only did they leave prints in the wet mud, but their path crosses into what appeared to be a maintenance road. Jacob readied his gun, as he made his way to a large gray building surrounded by fencing. Creeping into the facility, he heard sounds reminicent of a bird call. As the midday began to grow darker, turning to evening, he opened the front door, turning on the flashlight. His flashlight illuminated the facility, casting dark moving shadows as he crept deeper down the halls, his footsteps creating quiet echoes. Jacob rounded the corner to find a disturbing sight, a trail of blood and bloody footsteps leading down the hall, where a single birdlike call could be heard.
All he could do is walk forward.
The Law of the Jungle
TW: More Dinosaur related gore and violence. mostly just the usual
Chapter 4: The Terrible Claw

"Quiet, we're being hunted"
Jacob followed the trail of blood, his weapon trained on the hallway ahead, his breath becoming focused and methodical. Now that he knew the enemy, he could be prepared for it. He methodically checked every room, observing the strange, long dead moniters. It was nostalgic, looking back on the past of this national park. He grabbed a keycard on the desk, as something from further down the hallway began walking. Ducking behind a desk, he peered out into the dark hallway. It was like staring into a black void. He held his breath as the dinosaur finally showed itself. It was large and long, as it's neck craned into the office. It let out a small hiss as it entered, a large, viscious claw tapping on the metal floor. Jacob swallowed and held his breath, "This isn't good" he thought, as the dinosaur sniffed the ground, and began its hunt. It was almost nostalgic to Jacob, in a weird way. It reminded him of a mission in Peru, where he accidentally ended up being hunted by a jaguar. At the memory, Jacob instinctively scratched his eyepatch, and quietly slung his rifle over his shoulder.
He needed to play his cards carefully. If this dinosaur was anything like the jaguar, then it was a powerful animal, and a dangerous threat. So he began his own steathly approach, as the dinosaur continued to stalk him. It was uncanny the way the creature moved, like a bird, but it hunted like any other predatory animal. Navigating the office did not help ease his nerves, as the metal labyrinth continued to twist and turn. He could feel his heart pound in his ears, and he prayed that the creature couldn't hear it. It was as he paused to calm his breathing that the creature jumped up onto a desk, letting out a loud screech.
The sound nearly gave Jacob a heart attack, as he clutched his chest. Shaking his head, he steeled his nerves, and made a break for the exit. The dinosaur whirled around and hissed at him, before lunging after the merc. The chase was on, and it was anyone's game. He knew he couldn't outrun the beast, so he just had to outwit it somehow. But he had to come up with something soon, or else he was going to be extinct.
yo, I'm gonna start working on the law of the jungle again, so get ready!
The Future
Hey Law of the Jungle fans, my jungleheads, it's been a while since the last chapter, and I kinda dropped the series for a while. Thankfully, I've been reinvigorated back into the writing sphere with some news for you all. 1 Law of the Jungle will be resuming, and I'm going back to editing some of the past couple chapters that I'm not quite satisfied with. When they are edited I will send out an announcement that the edits are complete. ALSO I think I'm gonna start posting the chapters onto AO3 after recently learning about the site. 2 This is the cool one. Under a new pen name "Skin" I'm working on a weird west comic book called "Wizardworld" which is being posted to Tapas, check it out if you have the time or want to. If you just happened to see this without a clue as to what this is or who I am, take this as a sign to start or finish that book you've been wanting to write.
YIC (Yours in Creating) Gone Imagining

original writing / do not repost
For those who think they’re alone in their darkness
Everything is shifting so fast, changing, moving on. But I am stuck here, stumbling, unsure of where I stand. I just keep searching for someone to understand. Understand what I fight, the pain that I live through, the darkness I see. I search the world for tears, to match my own. And in a world drowning in sadness, I can’t find any. Tears are hidden, tears are shame. I should know, I hide my own. My unshed tears drip down my face, cupping my plaster smile in an embrace of sorrow. No one will know. But still I do search. Search for that second where a smile fades from the eye and sadness grips the heart. The moment when the eyes begin to cry, but don’t. Instead they hold it all in, the pain and regret and despair. But the more the pain, the more the suffering, the less you see it in their eyes. Because the eyes can only hold so many tears. So as they try flowing out, they are pushed back, dripping down your throat into your lungs and finally, back into your heart. And that’s when I know, they understand me. When their eyes deaden, their face goes slack, and I know then, it was too much for their eyes to hold. Too much for them to show. They walk around with empty eyes, and poison eating at their heart. But no one sees. No one sees like I see. But tired I am, of searching for empty eyes. Because the more I look, the more I see. The more I see that it is everywhere, in everything. Everyone is crying, tears of glass, collecting in their heart.
Then I think, if sadness is all around me, why do I feel so lonely? Misunderstood, judged. Does acknowledging my sorrow take away your ability to deny yours? Is depression something we just want to shove in a small box and tuck away, denying that it exists? Something to apologize for when it shows its face? Why are we so afraid to admit that it’s there?
Of course, some people can’t shove it into a box. No, it is woven into everything else that we are. It simply can’t fit into such a small box. We can’t hide it anywhere. So maybe we just hide ourselves somewhere. Somewhere dark, where the darkness inside can feel safe. Safe to exist. Safe to be a part of us.
Don’t look me in the eyes. Because it’s still there. No matter how many times I push it down, you can see it in my eyes. It filled my heart, and lungs, and throat. So now, it rests in my eyes, always. And now, they can’t flow in. Only out. I can’t hide anymore, and I’m scared to death that you’ll see. Tears shattering on the ground, sobs clawing themselves out of my throat, emotion racking my body with convulsions. You will see the fear seizing my muscles, sending shivers through my nerves. You will see my crumpled body, broken spirit, shattered mind. I’ll be laid bare, vulnerable, at your mercy. Basically begging for your kindness, destroyed by a simple smile or crushed by a careless word. And that is something I won’t do. Not again. Never again.
What we can take from dreams
When I dream I can sometimes change something into something else, merely because I wish it. I can make a moose, a deer, or a plane out of thin air. If only I close my eyes and wish harder. The monsters don’t always leave but when they come a clawing. I reach out my hands and believe that though I hadn’t ever before, I can use the wind as my weapon and bash it straight into the floor. When I open my eyes it has happen, because I expected nothing else. I believed in my power so fully, that failing just wouldn’t make sense. And each time the monsters grew stronger and bigger than mammoths or whales, I just squeezed shut my eyes and let my belief grow in size, until it burst out and became something real. The enemies don’t shrink, but each time I fall, I just think. I’ll believe it until it is done. If it don’t work at first, I just clench my fists and believe harder, until I am commanding that very thing into existence.
Mistakes
You know those days when you look back on your day and it seems like you did every single thing wrong that you could do wrong and you realize that you broke all the promises you made to yourself just the night before. In those moments sometimes the only thing you can do is just go to sleep and try again tomorrow.
So many times I let all the mistakes of yesterday ruin all my efforts today. As much as it’s cheesy it’s actually true, treat everyday as a new day. Leave all the crap and broken promises in the past, and just try to make the next day better.
There is no use worrying about how much of a putz you were yesterday AND also worrying that you’ll make the same mistakes today.
The only way to get through this life is to understand that mistakes are a part of it, and just because most people hide their blunders doesn’t mean you are the only one that makes them.
I don’t mean to sound preachy. I, myself, am still struggling to move my brain from ‘knowing this’ to ‘believing this’.
But just thought I’d put it out there.
I am in too worlds, of light and dark. Both make sense, in their own way. When I’m in one, it is all I know, and the other side of that coin is something confusing and seemingly insane. Today I am in a dark world. There are shadows here and muted colors. Smiles are painted on and my eyes are empty and cold. And when I think of my life being anything but this, it seems such a long ways away. Like a dream, or a distant memory. Even though it was just yesterday when I felt light, when I dreamed of bright futures and actually believed it would come true. So far away now. Another life.
All I can
I’ve taken all I can take
The bones I have, the bones that break
And it’s all just come and gone
And I’m barely holding on
I’ve lost all I could lose
The heart that was, the heart has bruised
And the songs gone out of tune
I wish to God it weren’t so soon
Cause the moments got away
And I’m chasin’ for some other way
I can have my happy end
That you won’t leave, my only friend
Meadow of Butterfly Wings
I’m lost and alone
No place to call home
Just a carousel spinning ‘round.
The rain coming down
Falls without sound
With rings spreading on their way.
It’s all my eyes can see
On a merry-go-round
Calling me down the way, here we go.
Find my by the bay
Where the rose petals play
The breeze lifts me off the ground.
And full of the sun
Watching leaves as they run
I slowly fall back awake.
Keep still for me please
Frozen ice in the trees
Wait while I rise up from the day.
The darkness holds air
Cause I’m with you right there
In the meadow of butterfly wings.



weary, excerpt - 2021 // jvs
memento mori (remember you must die) {december 4, 2022}
I’m thirteen now, in 12 minutes, and I can taste the blood in my mouth. I need to leave this bedroom and run to a place where no one knows my name, but I can’t seem to catch my breath. There is no escaping time.
For the first time in my life the day that I was born has not been spent alone. I have a family now and we shout and laugh and beat our chests like boys do, breathing in the cold air and spitting at the earth for suggesting that we sleep. And yet my bloody nose has licked my lips and the iron reminds me that there is no running from the world.
I hold my future in papercut hands, every passing moment a reminder that I can never be the way I once was. Now I am woman, now I am adult. I make decisions and I have money and I hold cards in the dynasty of girlhood. I am not the first and I am not the last. This is a very old, very well-told story. But what’s the difference between a day and the next when all my family sees is a high-cheekboned child, scraped knees and crooked teeth?
And so I lean over my sink, morning skinny and lightheaded. Shaky hands bring water to a matured creature. The cycle is midnight and then up again at dawn and then repeat. Stretched thin with bony elbows over paper and numbers and notes and sore muscles. I am seeing this new family more than a barely-thirteen-year-old would, especially one who never stops running, one who never sits down and no longer breathes warm air. Unhealthy as it is, I crave it; the last thing I need is time to think and time to realize I haven’t been home in years. Morning skinny and lightheaded, I take a cold shower and remember that I promised myself to stay disciplined.
Ever since my tenth, time is moving faster. As precise as I am, I can never seem to catch up or prepare myself. The revelation has only just hit and broke my jaw, bleeding my nose, forcing me to relive my seventh where I still had training wheels and saw daylight a different way. But I am thirteen now and there is no time to waste. I must work harder and be faster and be better. I must stay disciplined as I promised so long ago (time flies; I will reach through the air and grab its wings) and never grow weary, never lose motivation. Thirteen is at stake; eventually I will catch up and hold it in my bloodied fist. After all, I have been running my whole life, and time has only just begun to.
a poem about growing up and august {august 31, 2022}
August has come and gone like all Augusts do and my body is coiled around years prior. I am who I was a year ago, heart drawn carelessly on my sleeve, sitting in the same backseat, younger and far less bittersweet. The sun is coming through my window the same and my brother is bopping his head to his music the same, but despite this all I wouldn't recognize myself if we met. August is a broken, small-stepped month for fools; you don't notice when it arrives and far less so when it's gone.
kitchen fridge (november 29, 2022)
The sun is coming through the window at just the right angle and this house isn't really a home anymore. Memories ooze from the floor and fill up the room till I feel the need to run to the bathroom and throw up. The ghosts in the memories point and taunt, pictures perfect versions of who we once were.
We whispered lies through tight embrace, deceiving our bodies till they bled. Things don't ever truly change, I tell myself, we are still we. But our family lives in different states.
This house isn't really a home anymore, not with us gone. My soul left with your bodies, with dollar store sushi and Othello on the floor and nights turned to mornings. I have never used the word family to describe it but perhaps it is, ones we never had. Them turns to us and then back again.
This house is built on ghosts. They climb in through your mouth when you're sleeping, choking you up in the mornings when you see the pictures and little passing notes on the kitchen fridge. They travel down, pulling on your heartstrings, leaving a funny feeling called "ring my phone when you get the chance" in your stomach. It doubles you over with nausea. Before they go, they travel all the way down to your knees, making you think that they;re still scabbed and skinny like when you all first met. The ghosts leave you to bleed out in broad daylight. The delirious feeling brings a promise to come again.
This house was built on memories, back when it was a home. Wishbones make up the frame and Sundays build the drywall, our bodies curled out inside. Shooting stars and fallen eyelashes mark the distance between us and I keep waiting for that call, waiting to see a stranger to show up on the doorstep with their bags and a gift, something too meaningful to reduce to a three letter word like hug or maybe a three word phrase I've heard come from them before.
Grow old and grow out. Cracked bones heal over stronger, and when a good thing comes your way you'd be smart to go running after (I was never too bright). The way life simply is will never seize to sneak up on me and make my nose bleed. I want to ask if we are still an us anymore, but underneath the taped together photographs on the kitchen fridge, I know the answer.
writing is so weird
i have this project called wanderlust that's been going on for the last four years. what i find weird is that if asked, i wouldn't be able to describe government systems or different cultures or how magic influenced the technological advancements in the world. what can i describe? the smell of the wildgrass outside of one of the country's borders. the mood of the seas a few of my characters sail. the laughter of children as they're taught how to wield clunky wooden sticks like swords. i can hear the different accents of the characters, can visualize their faces at each moment in their lives, and i know exactly how they feel as their stories progress. it makes me a little sad sometimes, because i can't guarantee anyone will ever know this project like i do, and its so wonderful; i just want to share it with everyone. i didn't have a point to this post, i just wish i could flesh this project out enough to write it down, put it into words i can share. it means so much to me and i think i would die happy if even one person loved it half as much as i do.
Нет никакой сказки
А угадайте, кто выпустил первую главу)
