Personification Stories

Hey guys, these are just abstract writings that I posted on my Tumblr.

What if each school in Kivotos got assigned one sensei each? This is a story about that possibility. *TL If you're familiar with Hetalia, the concept is similar, but with schools as the personified senseis JP Title : キヴォトス、先生大量発生中！？ Author : ユメ先生 Syosetu : /novel/392341/ Cover : on X @akimaru_m

You are Y/N L/N, a trainer in Kanto with immense potential, you are also called Red as a nickname, who was always the quiet type, nevertheless, you settle on a journey together with your Pokemon, to complete the Pokedex and become Pokemon Champion. horny. Alright kidding, not the only reason why I made this, also of boredom. (Finally done with the process of rewriting older chapters as of June 14, 2023.) ||Note: All characters in this story are 18 or older, please keep in mind, also any art used here is NOT mine, so please keep in that mind as well, set in a world where every Pokemon are all Pokehumans/Gijinka'd.||

(COVER ART DRAWN BY THE AMAZING LAMPSHADE! lampshade_floortile on deviantart and discord! 12/14/25 EST) Older than any human, younger than any mountain, that is who we call America. The United States had its history of disasters, war, and everything wrong. Surprisingly, it's also got a childhood too like any other mortal. Over the years, he's seen and heard everything from his sons and daughters, all the way to where his presidents stand.

Your mind is a burning room, a drowning storm, and a torturing fairy-tale all at once. Now, descend through its layers and discover what waits in the one place even the flames can't reach. Sad Sundays is my weekly space to share melancholic poetry, words that help me navigate the stillness, the weight, and the quiet storms of recovery. Each Sunday, I post a new piece that I've written, using poetry to process my journey through detox and rehab, to face the difficult parts of healing, and to find meaning in the silence. Every poem is written by hand with help from the Rhymezone platform. This series is as much for me as it is for anyone who finds comfort in knowing they're not alone on their gray days. I will eventually try to tie most of my work together into a larger piece, but first and foremost, this will function as a collection of my writings while I am going through detox. There may be an underlying story, but perhaps not. Find out next week, and join me for a Sad Sunday moment. New Upload every Sunday at 18:00 (6 PM) German time - CET/CEST (UTC+1/UTC+2).

A mix of fun, random musings, and personified objects, this collection is my way of turning random thoughts and moments into poetry. Stay tuned for quirky, heartfelt, and light-hearted verses

this is a short poem that touches on beauty standards, expectations, and idealism.

It loves when you choose "vs Machine"

she was spark before the shred became envious through her life miserable and tear apart from love of her life

As a child, Niki was capable of dream walking. However, when he reached ten he stopped dreaming all together. Seven years later he finds an injured boy in his apartment. Cross-posted on ao3 ࣪˚.𓂅 ˓ .𖤣𖥧˚.𓂅 ˓ ࣪.𖤣𖥧˚.𓂅 ˓ ࣪.𖤣𖥧˚.𓂅 ˓ Additional tags: ▪︎Background poly ▪︎Magical realism ▪︎No explicit main ships ▪︎ Enha-centric/Niki- centric Features: Tomorrow X Together &Team

A step-by-step guide. Includes bonus Chair OC story at the end.

He grew up under the wings of one of the most secretive and publicized agencies on Earth... NASA. Distinguished, dignified, recognized as one of the leaders of today's cesspool of fellow space agencies. What the public doesn't know is that all satellites, landers, rovers, and agencies have their own lives too. With their own types of drama...

Mostly poetry, but there's also some prose and short stories. These are real things I feel, what I live with on a daily basis. Maybe some of you guys can relate. If you don't like depressing stuff, please don't read this. The earlier chapters kind of suck, but I promise the writing gets better! Enjoy! (Please don't steal my stuff, I kinda like it, plus I wrote it) :)

You know that random story that pops into your head while your doing nothing in particular and you continue it for two minutes before you don't? This is a series of stories that came to be in this way. Just a bunch of tiny stories that were loved while they lasted only to be forgotten, much like burnt out fires. (I'll be adding a dialogue of each story in the description as the stories go on) - Being deprived of humanity all day, my deranged mind was making my killer seem like a genuine sweet human being.... - 'AH!' I jumped as another wretched looking corpse screeched at me -It was Mr. hot guy from the line. Well well well, there's no way this could end badly, or is there? I thought smiling flirtatiously at him. -Class ended and I rushed out on purpose, without returning her pen. - Run away Sultan. Run away and never return. - 'Game over,' he said, as everything turned black.

(100 themes challenge) short musings and poetic rambles, with no story in particular to tie them together. topics provided by amika-sterling of deviantart.

(This is a ongoing football personification story series made by an amatuer writer.) "In Est, nu e ca in Vest frate! Norii negri sa adun peste noapte!" Welcome to the malaise of (former) giant footballing nation of Romania! Teams split, go bankrupt, reform, or die off into the history books. Giant domestic teams flounder internationally and relegation from can mean a fight for a club's life. Have you wondered how it would be for a being representing these clubs to exist within this volatile system? How the being's soul conflicts with the dark realities of football in the East? You've come to the right place. Welcome to Stagnare! Enjoy this very bleak stay and I hope you enjoy my writing. Note: This will contain stuff like drinking, depression, and deaths (don't worry, rebirths too) of clubs. Just suffering in general. You've been told. P.S. - Don't expect much art here, I don't do art. I just suck at drawing.

Writer's Block is REAL. It is NOT a myth or even a legend. It EXISTS. But we only take note of it when it is there. It is seriously unappreciated and I am here to raise awareness in its stead. Appreciate it, or you might very well be its next victim.

Once on a far peaceful evening a light came through the clouds. This splendid array of light came through perfectly and was shown to be the bright moon. The position landed right above the lonely tree.

They have personalities, they have mood swings, they are countries. The two Koreas seem to constantly be fighting...over shoes. Iran keeps trying to stab Israel with a pencil, Russia keeps trying to persuade the union to come back toghether. And America...she's trying to teach Canada how to be more American. Follow history in a way it has never been seen before, straight from the eyes of it's players. Random drabbles. Requests are accepted.

This is a series of raw poetry that I write when my ego needs to speak. There will be grammar errors, I don't care about them. I write and write until I feel like it's completed with the message I want to send. I don't go back and change things to rhyme or sound grouped. This is my flow poetry, and I hope it reminds you that you're not alone.