Tumgik
#author is mentally unstable
novankenn · 1 year
Text
Who I am.
I'm a gamer and writer, who currently is avoiding doing any original works by writing fan fiction. Mainly I write RWBY based stories, centred around Jaune Arc. I have pages on both AO3 and FF.net.
WARNING: If you are easily offended, triggered or under the age of 18 you ARE WARNED! While I try and keep things in "PG" zone, I will cross over into themes that you may find disturbing. DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
DM's Welcome: I am always willing to chat, or discuss my works. Feel free to point out errors or inconsistencies. I can not improve as a writer without honest and constructive feedback. Just be polite and civil.
I'm also trying something new at least for me. I'm playing with "Perchance text-to-image" to add some illustrations (when I can get it to give me something I think I can use) for my stories. It won't happen often, and the images are nice... but bear a very passing resemblance to the characters I'm trying to create. If someone knows a better "free-ish" software that I could use, please let me know.
If ANY of the links seem broken or the content is outdated, please let me know.
I'm Adding Story Codes to indicated the status of my stories. These TAGs will not apply to "Co-Labs" or "One-Shots" (C) = Complete - No other additions planned (H) = Hiatus - Story on hold until I work something out (RW) = ReWrite - Story getting a total redo (X) = Cancelled - I have no intentions to continue the story
Reader Asks - Repository of all the general asks I have received and answered.
Story Collections
Nora In : Tea with Jaune's Family...
Jaune Gets a Gun - Alternate Universe (H)/ Jaune Gets an Upgrade - Alternate Universe (H)/ Fem!Jaune Stories / Horror Themed... / Co-Labs / Co-Labs (2) / One-Shots / 100 Words / 200 Words / Jaune's Got Skills / No Happy Ending... / No Fall AUs / Grimm-less AUs / AUs with Grimm
Other Stories Not in specific collections listed below...
Stigma (H) Crossover of RWBY & Final Fantasy 7
Original Work Teaser : the Bastard
/=====/ Side Blog : Streets of Vale /=====/
//===== Upcoming Insanity for 2024 =====//
51 notes · View notes
spearxwind · 2 years
Text
speaking of httyd the more that time goes on the more I appreciate the first movie painted the night fury being weird as hell and as such the first plushies of toothless/the nightfury were fucking weird as hell too, I used to not super enjoy it but now i see the huge thick mega-cute NFs and think man. we have to go back to when they looked like this. they will never be more charming than this
Tumblr media
(And yes, I do have one. Pictures really dont capture how charming it actually is irl tbh. I love this lil guy so much)
Tumblr media
Also something this lil dude has is that the fabric is iridescent blue. It’s not straight black, which I think is great. Sure its missing a couple scales I guess but its supposed to be a little invisible shadow bastard. Idk I like him
306 notes · View notes
owlmoonboi · 2 months
Text
I wish I could go back to before I was a teen
Before guys began to watch girls on trampolines
I’ve never gotten the appeal of watching boobs jiggle
I wish I could go back to before I was a teen
Before girls were worried about being a bitch or a whore
Before girls came chasing after boys for more
The guys want the sex and the girls want the attention to feed their insecurities
I wish I could go back to before I was a teen
Before rumours became reality
Being cautious of your every move as you don’t know who’s watching you
I wish I could go back to before I was a teen
Before facing problems with adversity
Before being confronted by views of sexuality and gender identity
Back when people could just be people
Back when the strongest label a person would give is whether you have cooties
I wish I could go back to before I was a teen
Before everyone became obsessed with social media
Back when at recess you could just go play handball or tip
Before being judged for having food fights or climbing trees
Before it was uncool to make cards
I wish I could go back to before I was a teen
Before grades became everything
Before becoming knowledge hungry but if you want to know too much you’re considered a nerd
Before teachers gave lectures about facing the HSC
Before stressing about a good ATAR and the right university
Back when you didn’t have to worry about being smart enough
Back when being yourself was enough to please others
I wish I could go back to before I was a teen
Before an eating disorder took hold of me
Before I got a hunger for being skinny but when it came to food I would say I’m full
Before size became a way to judge others
Back when the most people cared about looks was if you were wearing the same shoes as them
I wish I could go back to before I was a teen
Before standards and expectations took a hold on me
Back when I believed dreams could become reality
Back when I believed in Santa Claus and the tooth fairy
Before being taught a certain way to act
Before pleasing others became a work of art
I wish I could go back to before I was a teen
Before I write this poem about my unfortunate reality
Before gossip and rumours were a part of life
Before problems became serious
Before learning about issues like rape but I guess I already knew about it as a kid
I learned about it in the fifth grade when a boy pinned a girl to his bed
Before learning about suicide
Except I already knew what it was as a kid as I had an aunt who committed it
I already had thoughts about dying before the age of ten
I think I can no longer wish to go back to before
I was already facing hardships as a kid but i think it has been good with helping me to get an understanding of the real world
There are parts of my childhood that are broken but that doesn’t mean I’m broken
I can use the the bad or sad memories as lessons
Scrapbook the precious memories
Happiness will keep me going
Make the most of what life throws at me
Learn to catch a ball when it’s heading for me
Take the bad photos and tell the embarrassing stories
Learn to appreciate every piece of myself
No matter who you are all people are like a puzzle
There is so many pieces to put together before not only others but before we can get an understanding of ourselves
From what I want I will no longer dwell
I’ll take these pieces with me wherever I go
I’m an artwork
Not everyone will like it but the most important thing is that I like it
7 notes · View notes
mourning-vampire · 11 months
Text
“Mirror”
(TW : blood mention & sewerslide)
original short story
A frightened expression stares back at me in the mirror. Crimson red slipping down into the sink below me, pouring out over the edge. Black encompassing my vision, a breath hitches in my throat. Unable to see or hear, panic consumes me. Panic begs to be heard and seen. I can not fall victim to the trap. Color returns to my face, crimson red no longer in my sight. My eyes begin to wander around the room, taking in my now clear surroundings. I am alive; I am okay. Most days, that is all I can ask for.
Moonlight creeps into the room and a familiar pattern of footsteps echoes underneath the door frame. My eyes snap to my reflection. She seems to be mocking me. Enveloping herself in my sense of confusion and horror, my reflection laughs. I close my eyes. No words were uttered, but I know that she is in control. These visions are spiraling, pushing me further from sanity’s grasp. Losing myself is a risk I can not afford. My heart beat is beginning to slow and a shaky breath escapes my lungs.
The door handle rattles. Whipping my head to the side, I feel my pulse quicken. “This is not real,” I replay in my head, “This can not be real.” Eyes trained on the door, I can sense the reflection’s dark eyes boring into my back. Another laugh erupts. Another shake of the door handle. I scan the room for an escape, to no avail. Ghastly screams reverberate throughout the room, the sounds of torture and hurt. An escape becomes me, one that I would not have imagined without the reflection’s help. Fist pummeling into the mirror, blood and glass explode. Hands reaching for the sharpest piece, I wince as my middle finger grazes the side. A small cry threatens to escape my lips as I grab the glass with both hands. Yanking the piece toward my abdomen, my body grunts upon impact and falls to the side. No longer crimson red, but now deep burgundy pours from my lips. Deep burgundy pours from my wound. Deep burgundy pours from the wallpaper and swarms my vision. Death encompasses me tenderly and with care; death has learned to love me.
With one final grunt, the pain subsides. The burgundy slows, as well as my heart.
11 notes · View notes
dead-morai · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
In "Surviving With BPD," lies a captivating memoir and guide offering a lifeline to those who have recently been diagnosed with BPD and are desperately seeking a way to understand their diagnosis.
Through heartfelt prose and raw vulnerability, the author sheds light on the often-misunderstood realm of BPD, bridging the gap between clinical knowledge and some personal experience. With expertly woven insights from the latest research, "Surviving With BPD" unravels the diagnostic criteria and dispels common stereotypes surrounding BPD, empowering readers to embrace a more compassionate and accurate understanding of this complex disorder.
Drawing upon their own journey, the author delves into the impact of BPD, revealing the deep emotional turmoil, self-destructive tendencies, and the battle for stability that lies within. Alongside their story, practical strategies and coping mechanisms are shared, offering guidance to those grappling with the tumultuous emotional landscape that BPD presents.
I would love if you could tell me what you think about the book! The link will be below, any support is appreciated greatly. I hope things get better for you.
Chapters: 13
Status: Completed
Link:
10 notes · View notes
moonlightmidtone · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Helena loves her spiders and loves tormenting her little siblings even more.
Sebastian (RIP he’s the only blonde kid 😔also the only kid without the beauty mark above the lip???) is done with her shit.
Baby Wendy is scared shitless of spiders.
And Baby Jasper is tryna get some intimidation tips from his big brother.
Anyway I’m thinking of preparing some childhood angst with Sebastian (and I GUESS Helena) because he was experimented on as a child, and while he was very distant and estranged from his younger siblings, he did…a LOT of behind the scenes work to keep them safe. You know how children of narcissistic and manipulative parents grow up to be really good at manipulating others as a survival tactic? Yeah… 💅 Sebastian made a lot of deals with his parents to spare his younger siblings.
50 notes · View notes
Text
Destroyer
I–
Destroy everything I love.
Still the memories line the dreams.
Awake, drowning in the smoke.
The apathy is so immense,
Forget to choke.
I am 
Depleted
By sweet revelations
Captivated in
Starlight.
You are a pathetic concept,
A flawed object.
Not meant to be loved.
Nor for this world.
A waste of time summarized as:
An enigma of swirling torture.
Your chaotic narcissism is a plague.
Your ‘love’ is that of a malignant sorcerer.
 An infection that stains obsidian.
Everyone you have come to know,
Now hates everything you believed in.
Cancerous, is your auras glow.
Poisonous, your obsessive affection–
Something to call sick.
Something to quit.
Forget and erase.
The memories–
I never knew heaven to be true.
All the smiles we drew.
Our friendship was made of the stars.
A reflection of beauty
Fashioned from the dark.
11 notes · View notes
teklarain · 10 months
Text
i am a helpless child reaching upwards
the adults feign ignorance.
“up,” i say. “i need up!”
still they pretend as if they don’t hear.
is my voice not loud enough? i wonder. why don’t they hear me? why aren’t they helping me?
when a child is so clearly desperately begging for what they need, why do adults still ignore it?
as you grow up they seem to look the other way when you trip more often. soon enough you fall, your body a limp pile of limbs, your body bleeding from the inside out, you cannot pull yourself up… and there are no hands trying to keep the blood from spilling but your own.
you drown in that blood—your blood.
and they simply watch.
4 notes · View notes
unknownpoet3 · 11 months
Text
Maybe
An empty head and a lifeless soul,
A broken heart that was once whole.
She once had so much to offer,
Now all she does is suffer.
This world has left her fragile and in pain,
It’s crazy that she hasn’t gone insane.
Although she is scared that she has,
In her mind that’s all she’s known as;
That crazy girl who’s no good at all,
The one who cannot fly, only fall.
Where’s she gonna go, what’s she gonna do?
Tonight she doesn’t care, tonight she’s blue.
Maybe tomorrow the head will be filled,
Maybe the soul will once more be thrilled,
The heart beating with love of life,
Maybe again she’ll want to be alive.
2 notes · View notes
haldirs-melda · 1 year
Text
My first ever attempt at poetry. I'm in my 30s, so it's never too late to try something new.
Stretched out beyond,
As it was and ever will be,
A barren desert.
No cactus or oasis awaits.
Only the gnarled, knotted arthritic hands
Of an elder tree casting shadow, grasping.
A blight in the sand and soul.
No hope resides here,
Excommunicated from joy, anointed in anguish.
No chance of blessed hydration
Instead arrid and coagulated
In unending perdition.
D.O. 2023
Tumblr media
3 notes · View notes
starry-skies-116 · 2 years
Text
Damn, I gave this singular kid a helluva lot of trauma, didn´t I? By no means am I qualified to be a psychologist, but goddamn- you don´t need to be one to see that I made Gregory/Evan messed UP.
Let´s start off with the basics:
First, my dude has C-PTSD that torments him throughout the ENTIRE game throughout the events of Security Breach. This offshoots directly into a persecution and inferiority complex that nurtures extreme anxiety, self-hatred and paranoia (stemming from the abuse of his father plus his other traumas but- I get ahead of myself).
Tumblr media
Then, Evan suffers from symptoms of psychosis in his first life, then again in dreams as Gregory when he´s beginning to regain consciousness and sentience later on. 
Regaining his memories of his past life results in him developing survivor´s guilt to the degree where it´s like he´s a genocide survivor, when in reality, he´s aware his whole entire family died after he did. Gregory´s entire world was ripped away from him at the ripe age of ten, and as a result, he becomes over-attached to the people he loves and never takes their rejection well. Like, at all. He also grows obsessive, hypervigilant and protective over those he considers his family, nigh-worshipping them and considering restoring his past life, his identity and his family so he can heal his suffering and lead a proper life- his only reason for existing.
There´s also a small degree of potential for OCD, since he has strange habits- vocal tics when startled, unwanted and wantonly violent thought processes, rubbing his thumb against his index finger and doing barely noticeable motor exercises when restless- but where it starts treading into disturbing territory is when he keeps a post-it-note drawing of his family, more notably his siblings, in their house. Every so often when he takes it out, he just HAS to obsessively cradle it and kiss it.
Tumblr media
Oh, look, another sign this dude isn´t okay.
Then, there´s Gregory´s blatant disregard, hatred, heavy distrust and malintent towards those who wish to hurt him- and sometimes, those whom he expresses hostility towards is also an entirely arbitrary decision, which is why it´s so hard to win his trust: one wrong move and you´re going to find a go-kart being yeeted at mach 10 directly towards your face. This suppressed and festering hatred results in brusque and unfiltered apathy towards non-family and non-friends individuals, resulting in him holding them in extremely low regard, seeing them in a villainous light and heavily antagonizing them, regarding them as mere obstacles or enemies that block him from his goal, his dream.
Oh, yeah, speaking of his goals- did I mention that one large reason that he has such an idealistic mindset, such strong love towards those he trusts, and such dedication and unfaltering willpower and spirit is because he worships and unhealthily obsesses over those goals to the point where it´s his only reason to live at all? 
Due to Gregory´s immense tragedy and loss, he literally exalts his family on a pedestal and prioritizes his and their life above everything else. He loves, adores, worships them, even- possesses such deep affections for them that it could be considered creepy, so much so that he´s cold, cruel and ruthless to anything that he sees as a threat to him or them.
Tumblr media
Couple that with how he basically was asleep for 57 years and develops undiagnosed insomnia and somniphobia, and can only sleep in Freddy´s presence? AND how he had somniphobia before in his past life?
Hmmm… what else? Oh, yeah: 
He turns feral and near-draconic in direct confrontations, bursting into hysterics and scream-crying at anyone who tries to yell at him or threaten him or strip him of his power and control over his life. 
He blames himself for being weak and powerless or emotionally vulnerable as a result of his brother and his friends bullying him. 
He literally throws himself into his ¨work¨ and blinds himself with false hope and flimsy self-reassurances to dissociate from his negative feelings and direct root of his trauma. 
He basically loses his reason to live whenever he argues with his brother as Freddy (the only person he loves and trusts), and cries and grieves for hours on end in hysterics like a madman in his emotional meltdown and overwhelming guilt.
He expresses rage and destructive, nigh-homicidal tendencies when things don´t go his way, especially when he worked so hard to alter the circumstances into his favor.
Couple that with severe touch-starvation and empty-nest syndrome, and how he basically had to LITERALLY starve and live off of a disgusting, meager diet of two candies and a bottle of Fizzy Faz per every two days when he was lucky enough to find food and water, and because of the nature of his creation, the stimulated needs are perpetual with no way to turn them off unless they´re fulfilled.
So there he sits. Confused. Scared. Hungry. Cold. Alone.
I could go on.
Oh, and also, he has a MASSIVE sweet tooth. Which means he relies on and is addicted to material things to grant him temporary happiness- food, items and people to tether him to what he treasures and loves, which means, even more depressing- he can’t find a home and inner peace within himself. He hungers to be loved and accepted by others, and finds happiness in the frivolities of life like puppies and chocolate cake because he is stuck in that childish mentality that he can't live with himself or love himself. He can't accept himself.
Someone PLEASE take care of this kid and get him some therapy. Por favor.
He needs it. In case you couldn't tell already.
Oh, and I feel the need to mention: he was ten by the time he died, and he's still only ten (chronologically 67 but does it fucking matter anymore?).
6 notes · View notes
crypticpawpoems · 1 month
Text
Carousel
Tumblr media
Round, round, up and down, circling about me.
All my dreams, all my schemes, never wash away.
On a ride, a ride through my life.
Many moments that astound circulate like a merry-go-round.
One dark horse, one green horse, and a red and black horse.
But overall, my favorite horse is the white and violet horse.
Round, round, up and down, circling about me.
All the love and deceit are raising up the speed.
Faster, so fast, getting dizzy.
I don’t know which way to go, so I’ll keep on riding!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Follow on TikTok @crypticpaw.official
4 notes · View notes
owlmoonboi · 2 months
Text
Leaves fall like teardrops. The trees branches sway in the wind softly and gently like a mother’s touch. Bees hum a melodic tune.
Birds soar and sweep the sky at dawn’s break. Children swing in a dirty old tyre swing above the lakes. The river runs like a cheetah. The clouds disintegrate like my father vanished after leaving to get the milk.
Rocks skip and fish swim. Shadows hide in the dim. Men show their true colours under the moon. Preying on naive women who think it’s love when really it’s just lust.
It’s in these woods where secrets lurk and tales wait to be told. I would tell them but I don’t have the time. I worry this may be my last rhyme. Like all stars I am a ball of gas waiting to burst.
My ashes will spread like a bird’s wings. You’ll hear my whisper in the breeze. This will finally be my chance to be free. Away from the cameras that flash like lightning. No longer made to worry about meaningless rumours and gossip. I paved this path by chasing fame. I thought my life would be a fun game. I never found true happiness. I was a puzzle losing pieces while trying to become someone else. If only I could’ve learned to truly love myself.
I hope my tale withstands time so people can learn to find their own happiness. What’s the point of this life if not for this.
1 note · View note
moraipoems · 7 months
Text
Hospitium
Nurses walk down the halls
and the four walls close in.
The room was rather quiet,
and I was allowed no privacy,
peering at the camera above me.
Unable to do anything,
no tv, no way to keep clean, feeling filthy.
And nothing to keep your mind busy,
unable to sleep or even eat.
Being bothered by doctors constantly.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Hospitium, a poem from my book, Mors (available on Wattpad)!
Written after I was quarantined while in the hospital attempting to seek mental help.
Instagram: @ moraipoems
Wattpad: @ moraiwrites
0 notes
dead-morai · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
4 notes · View notes
yellowtiebite · 9 months
Text
Just letting ya guys know there is one more poem left in the works and after that I will maybe continue writting ToH or I will just stop writing altogether. I did my best and it did not work out. It just is like that sometimes
1 note · View note