#made in abyss fanfiction

[reverieparacosm]

Bro, I've never made any requests/asks before, but my Bondrewd brain rot has me in a chokehold, so here I am. I'm honestly so shocked at how little attention he has. You're like the only person who writes anything about him.

My request would be headcannons with a gender neutral reader who is also a scientist. The reader is like a major major workaholic who literally has no social life, and they end up having to work with (or for) Bondrewd for whatever reason. The two have completely differing hypotheses on the thing they're working on, as well as conflicting personalities due to readers' complete lack of willingness to work with someone else. The two would be kinda like work enemies to tolerating each other to friends/lovers

Thanks for considering to do this, have a good day/night :)

Headcanons: Bondrewd (Made in Abyss) x GN!Reader

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, no detailed violence

Note: It's really a shame that Bondrewd doesn't get more attention, right? He's such a fascinating character. That's why I decided to write about him, and I'm so glad you requested this! I hope you enjoy the headcanons. I'm happy to have the chance to explore his character again. ♡

You are a young scientist who has devoted your entire life to your research on the Abyss. Due to your extreme focus on work, you have no social skills or relationships outside of your studies

Bondrewd hears of your promising theories on understanding the nature of the Curse and invites you to join his research team at the 6th layer. You begrudgingly accept, wanting access to his vast resources

Upon meeting Bondrewd, you are immediately put off by his bizarre experiments and his casual brutality. However, you admire his intellect and the impressive results he's achieved

Where you see potential harm, Bondrewd sees opportunity

The two of you clash constantly in meetings as you question Bondrewd's unethical methods and hypotheses. He finds your rigid views on ethics naïve and annoying. Your coworkers are exasperated by your arguments

He starts testing your boundaries to get a rise out of you, partly to move things along and partly because he finds your reactions amusing

Early collaboration is disastrous as you and Bondrewd talk over each other, both convinced your methods are superior. You regularly storm away from meetings in frustration

He sees you as too emotional and stuck in conventional thinking. You see him as a madman who will stop at nothing, even sacrificing lives, for answers

Over time, you start to understand Bondrewd's perspectives better. While still disgusted by his actions, you realize he shares your passion and drive for discovery, even if he takes it to darker places

"Do not look at me with such disdain, my dear. Our methods may differ but our goals are the same - to pierce the veil of this enigma before us."

You are completely devoted to your research to the point where you often forget to sleep or eat. Bondrewd finds your single-minded focus amusing at first but it starts to frustrate him how you never take breaks

Bondrewd is intrigued by your fiery defiance of him. No one ever challenges him, and he sees potential in you as a researcher if you can think more creatively

The two of you are assigned to a dangerous expedition together deep in the 6th layer. Trapped in a cave-in, you have no choice but to cooperate with Bondrewd's leadership to survive

Working side by side in a life or death situation, you gain a grudging respect for each other's talents and start to see parts of yourselves in the other - two people willing to push all boundaries for knowledge

Back at the camp, you feel confused by the unfamiliar feelings welling up inside you for Bondrewd. This dangerous, cruel man should not be eliciting anything positive in you

"Do you feel it too, this connection between us? I think the Abyss works in mysterious ways, bringing souls like ours together in its depths."

One night, as you are working late in your lab, a sudden chill runs down your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you can feel the presence of another in the room. Turning slowly, you find yourself face to face with the imposing figure of Bondrewd

"Forgive my intrusion, my dear," he says in a low, velvet tone. "I couldn't help but be drawn to your fascinating work." He takes a step closer, and you instinctively take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest

Bondrewd raises a hand, his fingers gently tracing the outline of your face. "You fascinate me, you know," he murmurs. "In the same way the Abyss does. I want to... study you more closely."

In that moment, you realize you've fallen for this monster of a man completely. Frightened but exhilarated, you surrender fully to your twisted love for Bondrewd and whatever the future may hold

In secret, a heated physical affair begins between you and the Lord of Dawn. You tell yourself it's just relief from stress, but your heart is becoming tangled

"Your mind is a thing of beauty, always questioning, analyzing, seeking the answers just out of reach. I find I cherish our debates almost as much as our other... encounters."

On expeditions, you and Bondrewd move seamlessly as a team, anticipating each other's needs and pushing your limits ever further. His praise and growing care for you is intoxicating

However, doubt haunts you - can you truly accept this man and all he's done? Your co-workers would be horrified. And what future is there when he views people as disposable?

"My methods may seem cruel, but it is all in aid of lifting the veil on this place. One day you may understand, as I strive to make you understand me."

[waning-star999]

Well… at least Shen Qingqiu wasn’t the one who pushed Luo Binghe in?

Let’s think of the positives

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/44066250/chapters/141680185#workskin)

[felixravinstills]

Me being sad about a Ravinstill that I made up for 3k+ words. Marius Ravinstill, I really didn’t expect to get this attached to you and Gnaeus, but here we are… technically, there isn’t much new info in this fic that hasn’t been tangentially mentioned in a post on this blog, but I’m also not expecting you guys to be tracking every single thing I just straight up make up about the Ravinstills, so it’s nice to have bits of lore all in one place!

[cometpunkpunk]

Hello and welcome to my humble little blog

I’m finally back on Tumblr after deleting my old account a few months ago

Information about me:

-My name is Ty (Although I also like being called Andromeda)

-I am assigned menace at birth

-As of making this I am 17 years old (though I’m 18 soon)

-I’m an aspiring author as well as poet

-I like making friends a lot and am more than happy to befriend most people

-I’m asexual

What’s this blog for:

-This blog is for posting fanfics/headcanons

-Also it serves as a fandom blog for my various interests

-I may take requests In the future but that’s to be decided

Rules:

-I don’t want to see any NSFW content including kink (I’m a csa victim)

-I refuse to participate in discourse so please don’t ask

-Do be polite and respectful

-You cannot interact with my blog if you are a pedo, zoo, bigot, judge peoples interests, fetish miners and cat haters

My fandoms and guide:

#Ty is sane

Is for my normal posts

#Ty is insane

Is for the unhinged stuff

❤️: current favourites

💜: not a hyperfixtation but I still love

🤍: only recently got into/not finished

🧡: old interest I still am fond of

💛: not in the fandom but would make content for

💚: unable to make content for but still enjoy and will talk about

If there’s a fandom you’re in that I haven’t listened ask about it.

Games:

-Borderlands 🧡

-Undertale/Deltarune ❤️

-Little nightmares 💜

-Mario 💜

-Sonic 🤍

-Pokemon ❤️

-Danganronpa 🧡

-DDLC 🧡

-Crash Bandicoot 💚

-Animal crossing 💜

-Devil may cry 🧡

-Soulsborne games 💚

-Stardew valley ❤️

-Genshin ❤️

-Battle cats 💚

-FNAF 💛

-SCP 🤍

-Batman games 💚

Books:

-A series of unfortunate events ❤️

-Diary of a Wimpy Kid ❤️

Shows/cartoons:

-Monster high (Gen 1) ❤️

-Total drama ❤️

-Ridonculous race ❤️

-Making fiends 💜

-Steven universe 🧡

-TMNT 🤍

-SpongeBob 💜

-Mr men 🧡

-Scooby doo 🤍🧡

-Disney movies 🤍🧡

-Pixar movies 🤍🧡

-Dreamworks movies 🤍🧡

-Bluesky movies 🤍🧡

-Mlp 💛

-Arthur 💚

-Coraline 💜

-Looney Tunes 💜

Anime:

-Madoka Magica ❤️

-Grand blue dreaming ❤️

-NGE 💛

-Life lessons with Uramichi Oniisan 💜

-Demon slayer (Finishing Mugen train arc) 🤍❤️

-MHA (Season 1)🤍💛

-Perfect blue 💜

-Made in abyss 💜

[bruhstories]

i understand that ozai is the worst person on this planet, but can we all agree that he's... you know... kinda fine?

[cratastica]

Hey peeeps i would like your best longfics for trollhunters, attack on titan, made in abyss, saga of tanya the evil, tgcf, mdzs, svsss and more please i am going to be shortly without internet

[thesparkledash]

Wrote a little made in abyss fic. Just wanted to get this idea out of my head

[gloomyloomy]

A One piece / Made in Abyss AU…

((i am a very slow writer so there’s like a .001% chance i will ever write the ideas that are beamed into my head but i wanted to put this idea out))

(ages are the same as they are in the one piece cannon -10 years. luffy would be 10, law 16, etc…)

Devil Fruits are an incredibly rare kind of artifact, a supernatural phenomenon.

Character Roles

Ace, Sabo, (14) and Luffy (10) were raised by Dadan on the edge near the first level and spend their time adventuring there until Sabo falls down and is (presumed) dead)

Dragon’s (45) revolutionary group resides in the depths and save Sabo as he falls

Usopp (10) is an orphan, left alone after his mom died and his dad left to venture with Shanks.

Sanji (12) is a cyborg who was made by Germa- a group of mad scientists lead by his “father”, who planned to use him and his siblings as military weapons, but escaped to the surface after being found defective for experiencing pain and emotions.

Chopper (8) lives with Kureha, researching symptom management treatments for the Curse of the Abyss

Robin (19) is an archeologist of the depths and their historical context

Franky (23) is an engineer, tinkering with the materials and technology that is brought up to him by the dwellers

Law (16) and Corazon (29) live in one of the seeker camps, with law being rescued from one of the lower levels. Corazon makes it a point to beat the shit outta any kid that comes down to try and scare them into going back up while they still can.

Kid (13) and Killer (15) live in the slums, starting out as enemies but end up inseparable as Kid plans to explore the depths with killer by his side

Garp (68) is a white whistle hero

Shanks (29) is the head of an outlaw crew down in the lower levels

Mihawk (33) an outlaw Swordsman resides in an abandoned Seeker camp along with Ghost princess Perona. He has become aquatinted with boredom and solitude, before becoming (deciding) he was responsible for the impulsive 19-year-old runaway who ran down into the abyss without planning for resurface.

——————————————————

this has been very loosely conceptualized!! It’s been years since i’ve seen made in abyss, but i’ve been in love with the world-building and monsters in it since i first watched it in highschool, and now i only vaguely remember things here and there so there could be better roles for these characters than the ones i’ve assigned them to here!! anyways that’s all for now i gotta get ready for class

[littledrawsandwritesstuff]

Title: Hunters of the Abyss (Chapter 13) Fandom: Made in Abyss/Bloodborne Characters: Laurence, Original Female Character Word Count: 3.805

Summary: Laurence is interviewed about what kind of food the delvers eat.

[helena-hyena]

I finally started outlining the plot/lore for my Hazbin Hotel/Made in Abyss AU

I haven’t actually gotten this far with any personal writing projects before, so I’m kind of excited. So far, it’s just a couple hundred words of justification for the suffering I am about to inflict on these characters.

[reverieparacosm]

Bondrewd x GN!Narehate Reader

Synopsis: You, an adventure, are rescued by Bondrewd after a serious injury. But is it worth it?

Warnings: Yandere, kiddnaping, violence

Note: Oh well, did I write an open ending? Oh hell yea.

Alright, buckle up for a wild ride! But hey, before we dive into this crazy fiction, let's get one thing straight: I am absolutely, positively, and emphatically NOT on Team Bondrewd. It's just fiction!

The last thing you remember is the chilling grip of those villainous hands, dragging your helpless body into the bowels of that godforsaken dungeon. Panic surges through your veins as your vision fades into an abyss of darkness, the ominous sound of a heavy door slamming shut echoing in your ears.

A timeless void engulfs your consciousness, until a spark of awareness flickers within your core. Your eyes flutter open, and you are greeted by a world utterly transformed. A strange sensation courses through every fiber of your being. It's as if your very cells are awakening, shifting and rearranging themselves to a mysterious symphony.

With trembling hands, you reach out to touch your own body, only to recoil in astonishment. Instead of the familiar contours of human flesh, you now possess a new form, a creature of untamed power and primal beauty.

Fur and leathery skin envelop your limbs, imbuing you with an otherworldly grace. Gone are the trappings of your former existence, replaced by dark brown pants that cling to your agile frame and a cloak the color of shadows, billowing around you like a shroud of mystery.

Confusion storms through your mind, a tempest of unanswered questions. Who or what has wrought this metamorphosis upon you? Why were you chosen for this bewildering transformation? Fear and curiosity dance within your soul, intermingling with a burgeoning sense of awe.

In the dimly lit corner of the room, a haunting figure materializes, and your instincts scream out that it can be no other than Bondrewd himself. A surge of determination courses through your veins as you gather the remnants of your strength, and the words spill forth from your trembling lips, "Bondrewd, what monstrosity have you unleashed upon me?"

Bondrewd slowly turns to face you, his eerie mask emitting a ghastly purple glow that cuts through the oppressive darkness. He meets your gaze. "Ah, so you still recognize me. Remarkable. It seems you have not entirely succumbed to oblivion," he remarks, his voice dripping with a sinister satisfaction. "Allow me to enlighten you. I have bestowed upon you a transformation of unfathomable magnitude. Through intricate and perilous surgical procedures, I have forged you into a new type of Narehate. The results, I must say, have surpassed even my lofty expectations."

The weight of his revelation crashes upon you like a relentless tempest, and disbelief engulfs your being. A surge of anger intertwines with the overwhelming sense of betrayal pulsating within your chest. "Why? Why would you subject me to such horrors?" you demand, your voice trembling with a mixture of fury and anguish.

His voice drips with a chilling nonchalance as he explains, "My dear, naive adventurer, my motives were simple yet ambitious. I sought to fashion a Narehate possessing an unparalleled array of powers. And to achieve that, I required a subject of extraordinary physical and mental fortitude. You, with your illustrious history as a formidable adventurer, were the epitome of perfection in my eyes." He pauses, a macabre satisfaction permeating his words. "You should consider yourself fortunate, for you have become my most potent creation."

As Bondrewd speaks, you feel the passion and determination in his voice, the room lighting up with his energy. You sense an almost obsessive aura surrounding him as he steps closer to you, placing his hand on your shoulder, his touch almost electric. "I have fallen in love with you," he whispers, his mask close. "Your strength, your beauty, your bravery - they are unlike anything I have ever seen. You are one of the most amazing people I have met, and I will never stop loving you."

As Bondrewd continues to explain his reasons for transforming you, his voice grows more excited, speaking of your qualities in detail, with a passion and reverence you have never experienced. Your determination, heroism, and strength in the face of danger are, in his opinion, absolutely unique. All of these qualities have captivated him, and he is certain he will never stop loving you. But even in the middle of his speech, he seems to forget the suffering and pain you have experienced. His love for you is so all-consuming that it blinds him to anything else.

As you stare up at him, feeling hopeless and helpless, you can't help but feel a wave of anger rising within you. The pain, the confusion, the lack of understanding - it's all too much to bear. And yet, your captor only seems to get more enraged with every word you speak. Finally, you ask the question that's been burning on the tip of your tongue.

"You call this love?" you say, your voice shaking. "You turned me into this creature, a Narehate. I can't even recognize myself in the mirror anymore. And yet, you dare to say that you saved my life? Do you have any idea what you've done to me?"

Bondrewd's fingers close around your throat, the grip precise and measured. He lifts you effortlessly, your feet leaving the ground as his hold constricts your airway.

The pressure sends shockwaves of agonizing pain rippling through your body, threatening to unravel your very existence. Desperate for release, you thrash and struggle against his unyielding grasp, but his hold remains steadfast, unyielding as the cold touch of steel.

Bondrewd observes your frantic movements with a serene, almost thoughtful demeanor. "Now, now, there's no need for such theatrics," he murmurs, his voice soft yet patronizing. "You're only making this more difficult for yourself."

Bondrewd chuckles softly, "my dear Narehate, how dare you presume to challenge me?" he says, his tone laced with condescension. "You, a lowly, transformed creature - you should be on your knees, thanking me for the mercy I have so generously bestowed upon you."

He pauses, "after all, is it not I who has granted you this... unusual existence?" Bondrewd muses, his golden eyes gleaming with a twisted sense of pride. "You should be grateful, not defiant. But I suppose I can hardly expect true understanding from one such as you."

Amidst the searing pain, you summon every ounce of strength to respond, your voice a mere whisper, yet infused with determination.

"Your… twisted… benevolence," you manage to gasp, the words a struggle against the suffocating grip around your throat. "It… is no… salvation… but… a… curse."

He drops you to the ground, and you feel the air rush back into your lungs as you gasp for breath. He crouches down, his mask inches from yours.

"I did what was necessary to save your life. My special surgery left you with a weakened mental state and a poor memory. And yet, here you are, questioning everything I've done for you. You really need to learn to appreciate all the good things I do for you."

"We found you in the fourth layer. You were in a very bad condition, suffering from many wounds. We managed to heal them, but you got a bad fever, and the only way to save you was to do a surgery."

As Bondrewd speaks, his voice gradually transforms from a cold, detached monotone to a softer, more empathetic tone. Gone is the rigid, uncaring scientist; instead, he now appears almost paternalistic, his aura occasionally flashing with the same madness as before.

"Please, let me go," you beg, trying to hold back tears as the realization sinks in that you are now truly at the mercy of this madman.

His voice is cold once more, and his grip on your chin tightens.

Bondrewd regards you with a mixture of exasperation and condescension. "Do you not appreciate the magnitude of what I have done for you?" he asks, his refined voice dripping with disdain. "I have saved your life, and granted you power beyond your wildest dreams."

He leans in closer, the eerie violet ether light casting an otherworldly glow across his serene features. "You seem to have forgotten your place," he murmurs, his tone taking on a subtly threatening edge. "You belong to me now. Your will is subservient to mine - you will obey every command I give, without question."

Bondrewd's grip on your chin relaxes. "Am I making myself perfectly clear?" he asks, the faintest hint of a dare underlying his words.

You respond with a simple "no," knowing that you are never truly safe until you are as far away from him as possible.

As you stare at the ethereal purple light, you feel a sudden burst of determination coursing through your veins. No matter the cost, you are not going to let this madman control your life anymore. You take a deep breath and steel your resolve.

"I will not obey you," you state firmly, your voice steady despite the fear that still rages in your chest.

"You will obey me," he says, the words rolling off his tongue with a deceptive smoothness. Though his tone remains composed, a subtle undercurrent of menace sends shudders down your spine. "Failure to comply will result in... unpleasant consequences."

At that moment, you realize that you have two choices: you can either continue to live in fear and obedience, or you can take a stand and fight for your freedom. Without hesitation, you choose the latter.

You reach deep within yourself and summon all the strength and determination you can muster. You know that it will not be an easy fight, but you are willing to risk everything to escape the clutches of this madman.

With a burst of energy, you break free from his grip and bolt towards the door, your heart pounding against your chest like a thunderous drum. Behind you, his voice echoes through the hallway like a haunting melody, but you refuse to look back. You just keep running, each footstep propelling you further and further away from danger.

As you sprint down the dimly lit corridor, every breath you take feels like a struggle. Your lungs burn, your legs ache, but you push through the pain, your determination unwavering. You round a corner and catch a glimpse of the end of the hallway. There's a door in sight, and your heart leaps with hope.

With a shaking hand, you turn the handle and push the door open, expecting to see the light of freedom on the other side. But what you see instead stops you dead in your tracks.

[space--cadet-glow]

Me: Has writer's block for theories Also me: Writes an entire fanfiction and skedaddles

[felixravinstills]

sometimes, i remember that i have a very strange interpretation of livia cardew that lives in my head. sometimes, i even write a fic about her. (check the tags for content warnings)

[daily-rayless]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

Thank you, but aaaaaaa, this is difficult. I only started posting on AO3 last year, but I've been posting fic online since 2006, and while there's a lot of old stuff I can't 100% stand by, there are also older fics and elements of older fics I'm still proud of today.

I think for a lot of ficwriters, our fics are tied very closely to different points in our lives and our sense of accomplishment -- so things like that also make it difficult to pick favorites when looking at these titles stirs up so many memories.

But here, I'll give it a shot:

5: Kindred (Harry Potter, 2007, no longer online): These days, my feelings about HP are less positive, but Kindred was my take on the life and upbringing of Fleur Delacour. It allowed me to research an expansive fantasy world as well as make new friends online as they patiently fielded my questions about life in the UK. I got to play around with original world building when it came to Beauxbatons and Veela (at a time when the HP world was still more open) as well as imagine the latter sections of the series from the perspective of the Order of the Phoenix. I was also writing this right during all the build up to Book Seven. I thought I was pretty safe in world building for Fleur, figuring she'd never be all that central, only to read Deathly Hallows and find not only that she's fairly involved, but a good chunk of my headcanon had to be thrown out and rewritten. Kindred was also the first time I'd contributed a longfic to a major fandom that was simmering with interest and energy, and I got so much encouraging feedback. It was a lot of work, I felt so proud of myself, and I was so pleased people enjoyed it. I'm still touched when people message me and say they remember it all these years later.

Weasley gives me an automatic smile. “Just a moment, excuse me.” He jerks his chin to Hassan, and they pass out of the room, down the hall. Hassan glances at me, raises his eyebrows, and grins.

Damn.

I distract myself from my hunger by studying the office. This is one of the smaller ones I’ve seen, cluttered with unopened boxes and a half-filled bookcase. The desk is neat, stacked with papers. A black leather-bound book on the desk catches my eye, its cover stamped with broad gold swirls and dots. It also, I realize, opens right-to-left. Hebrew?

I glance at the still-open door. No sounds.

I slide my fingers under the front cover, flipping it open. Then I blink and lean forward. Every left page is full of that sweeping, dotted script. Every right page has pictures, very stylized. Hieroglyphs, I think. A lot of the figures have animal heads on human bodies, and I recognize the ancient Egyptian numerals from Arithmancy class. I shut the book. I really shouldn’t pry.

My stomach yowls. Well, glancing at stuff on the desk isn’t prying.

I pass over the papers. There’s a framed photo of nine people standing in front of a pyramid, all of them vibrantly redheaded. I pick out Bill Weasley in the group, sans ponytail and earring. He looks better with them.

I check his wall clock. 12:31. Argh.

There’s a small glass case by the photo, containing a chip of some rock (lapis?) inlaid with gold. Arranged around it are what seem to be ancient corn kernels...no...Oh my goodness, they’re human teeth.

Rattle.

I jump, wheeling guiltily towards the door.

Thud.

Rattle.

I look back down at the desk. The sounds are coming from the top left drawer.

Slowly, steadily, I back away from the desk.

Thud. It sounds large, as though something almost filling the drawer is shifting around.

Suddenly, the fact that I’m in a Curse-Breaker’s office carries much more weight. If Kensington could get a curse in the mail, couldn’t Weasley keep a special occasion curse in his desk drawer?

No matter. It doesn’t concern me.

“Mphlum?” comes from the drawer.

That was a human voice.

“Gphlb? Gvpblaffx!”

His muffled voice sounds like he’s struggling. I realize that I’ve stepped back towards the drawer.

Really...Weasley’s a Curse-Breaker...why would he keep a curse lying around? It’s his job to get rid of them.

“Plibg.”

I run my thumb along the smooth brass drawer-pull. Probably it’s some annoying portrait he’s imprisoned there for peace and quiet. I know all about that.

“Thfssss?”

I jerk the drawer open. A human head stares back at me.

4: The Stars Are Fire (Tales of the Abyss, 2021): This is my longfic about Asch and Natalia, exploring their relationship before and through the game, then examining Natalia's life after the war. I think what I love so much about this one was how emotionally free it felt to write it. Generally I write in a very linear style. Stars was written all over the place -- one scene here, one scene there, with very little regard as to stringing everything carefully together. The hope is that if you've played the game, you can follow where you are in the timeline, and the scenes are connected more by theme and feelings than plot. Doing it this way took a lot of pressure off of me. I didn't have to write "boring" scenes, I didn't have to carefully plot. A lot of the time it was just, "Oh, what about exploring this canonical scene?" Or, "Wouldn't be interesting to show this about their childhood?" And I could just go with it. Stars is also special to me because my earlier attempts to write long Abyss fics hadn't quite worked, which was a little discouraging because Abyss is one of my very favorite games.

Natalia flew into him, and, as if it were a dance they'd already learned, he closed his arms around her shoulders, the both of them burying their faces in each other. He could feel her fingers gripping his back, her eyelashes against his cheek, her heart pounding against his own. For just a moment, his brain was released from all thoughts, all impressions but breathless relief.

He was here. She was safe.

There were voices, the others exclaiming over Luke. In a moment, Natalia would push away from him, go to Luke too. But she'd come to him first. She'd run to him.

His brain was catching up to all of this, reminding him there was no time for any of it. Nor a point to any of it.

Natalia was pulling away, but she didn't leave his embrace, taking him by the shoulders, looking at him, saying something – asking if he was all right? Asch was about to say something stern – he didn't know what – but she had one of his hairs smeared across her wet cheek and first he needed to wipe that away, otherwise she looked ridiculous – and he touched her cheek, and the next thing he knew, he'd pressed his forehead to hers and shut his eyes and he could feel her soft breath and her hands tightening on him and he was doing his best not to say all of the things he needed to say – he –

“Whoa, what's this?”

Luke's – the replica's baffled voice was what Asch needed to break out of this storm. Not roughly, but firmly, he stepped back from Natalia – she kept hold of his arm, and he didn't stop her. And Asch felt almost furious satisfaction as he saw the replica staring confusedly at the Jewel of Lorelei in his palm.

After Asch explained, as everyone exclaimed over the Jewel – and that somehow they'd both survived the hyperresonance – Asch again felt weight settle over him. He was alive. It wasn't over.

He still had to go on.

3: The Muse of Last Songs (Transistor, 2019): The first in my Muse Trilogy. It was hard to pick between this one and the final installment, because the final one brings things all together to a (hopefully) satisfying close. But I really like Last Songs because it was my chance to world-build a past for Red and dig into her history with the Boxer. The game drops so many little hints about who they are and how they relate to each other, and these hints felt like fun toys to play with. I was a little hesitant to start posting the trilogy because I'm not sure the universe was asking for a very long Transistor trilogy with a lot of of OCs, so that makes me feel so flattered and grateful that people are interested.

Red had no special plans for that day, aside from the lunch with Belrose. She's not expecting any interviews, any photographers. She's wearing trousers and a blouse, a large triangular ring on her right hand. She'd written some notes for her song on her inner arm during lunch, and the marks are still there. Her hair could use a bit of comb, and she's only bothered with lip gloss. She looks more or less how she usually does on a day left alone to herself.

Whether that's a plus or a minus is really just a matter of perspective.

Colette beckons her over, sort of like she's trying to coax some animal that's never been properly domesticated. “We're interviewing bodyguards. Give me thirty of your priceless minutes.”

Red focuses, looking past Colette to the three men. Though of different heights and ethnicities, there's a certain look that they all share – young men, dark hair, dark or tan skin, squarely built and solid looking. She takes a moment to study each. She's never shy about looking people in the eye, and she's glad to see that each of them has the nerve to maintain eye contact.

One of them.

One of them.

One of them, she looks at a few moments longer than the others. Not out of recognition or distrust. He just keeps her attention a bit longer.

2: Death and Ker (Persona 3, 2010): My what-if story exploring if the female protagonist came on another adventure with SEES. While it's no longer my best writing, and I'm sure there's lots in it I would now do differently, this fic still has a very special place in my heart. My earlier Persona longfic, Elysion, is very sad in places, and while Death and Ker also has its bittersweet moments, it was my opportunity to write SEES as strong and hopeful after the harrowing events of Persona 3. I also love the FeMC, Minako, her energy and strength, and I loved writing from her perspective, particularly exploring her relationship with her Persona Thanatos. Add some references to Greek mythology, lots of Shinjiro, and my opportunity to finally get Akihiko and Mitsuru together (one of my favorite ships, but one I find very hard to write), and I still look back on this one happily.

I've come abreast of a bar, with some guys out front smoking, nearly silhouetted against the lit windows. Another guy, broader across the shoulders than the others, has kicked a trashcan onto its side, letting the garbage spew out. He's sitting on it, hair down to his waist and bearded, a shapeless cap over one eye and a long, ragged greatcoat. There's a smell rather worse than cigarette smoke, and I pick up the pace again, wishing I was upwind.

"Hold on," that same gruff voice says, and I realize that Lovely here is my defender. "You took a long look. You can't say you're too proud to say 'good evening'."

His Japanese is perfect, but there's some accent I can't pick out – English-speaking, I think, but I don't recognize it as British or American or anything like that. I've turned towards him before I can tell myself to keep walking. He leans back to study me, throwing his face into better light. Gaunt features, a long pipe between his teeth, some of which are missing. I can't guess his age, except that he's older than me. His hair is some color between blond and brown, and his eyes look greenish, and they track me up and down a few times.

I'm not good at staying away from trouble; people always used to say this about me. But this isn't trouble, it's just a word. So – "Evening," I say, and turn to go.

"You have a look of death about you."

I turn back around. The guy's leaned forward onto his knees again, and the others are talking amongst themselves, someone laughing. Is this a weird set-up, or...? I turn to go.

"You keep out of the light, but there it is just the same."

What?

...I've got a naginata and a Persona with a huge metal mask thing. I can handle whatever's going on here. I turn back and stare at him, waiting for him to explain. He gestures sideways, and unresistingly I step into the glare of the windows.

He stares at me a moment, teeth cracking around his pipe, and nods slowly like he already knew what he'd be seeing. "You're pale enough, and your hair's the color of dead things, dead leaves. Eyes like dirt and blood." He leans back and turns away, drawing on his pipe. "Why pussyfoot around it? Why not carry your damn scythe in the open?"

I blink, but I can't quite deadpan this, and I find myself shifting my weight once from foot to foot. "Are you friends with Mama at Club Escapade or something?"

"Shove off," the guy says, gesturing me away. "Take your dirt with you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Pretty girl." He swings to his feet, the trashcan rolling away with a clatter. "Death shouldn't pretend to be cute. It's raw and bleeding and it loves the living more than food or air." He chuckles. "I don't want to be friends." And he slouches into the light of the bar's front door.

I pitch forward a step, about to follow, then pull to a stop, hardly hearing the question one of the other guys throws at me. What was he talking about? Could he tell I was dead? I could ask Death himself, but Thanatos is quiet, uninterested in this exchange.

1: The Beast in the Dark (Fate/Extra, 2017, not online). So this feels kind of selfish, seeing as no one can read it and I don't know whether I'll even post it, but I really love this fic. In the mid-2010s, I was sad and frustrated and artistically unhappy (unhappy about art -- not unhappy in an artistic way), particularly with my original fiction, which didn't feel very good, and most of the time wasn't even happening. In this mindset, I wrote a trilogy of fics set in the Fate/Extra universe, focusing on female Hakuno. And what I love about that experience, along with it helping me through that patch, is that I just let myself go. I threw basically anything I wanted at the story. I researched all sorts of weird things about history and different cultures so I could incorporate them. I really like words and their derivations, so I just told myself I could include unnecessary explanations of word etymologies. I threw in cringey tropes I enjoy but might be embarrassed to admit to other people. I had no expectation of ever posting it, so I truly was able to please myself. Beast is the final installment of the trilogy, the longest, and all the angst and shippy stuff and nonsense comes together in a big loud crash for it, and I just really loved writing that. Almost immediately after finishing Beast, I suddenly felt ready to write The Price and Prey of Magic -- the original novel I'd been thinking about for years, but been unable to start. I don't know if Beast unlocked something in me, but I like to think it did me good.

Was it even possible to really love someone with your whole soul? Maybe a parent could love a child that way. Maybe if the two of you had grown up together, and they'd always been part of your life. But a person who had a whole life separate from you, whom you'd met only recently?

Could you really graft your soul to the soul of a comparative stranger?

There was a tree by the well, and its leaves rustled in the slight breeze, sending a sympathetic shiver down Hakuno's back.

A man's shadow fell across her

She looked up.

It was a tall man in army fatigues and a burnoose. She couldn't really see his face because of the sun behind him.

Crow, she thought.

“You're the American?” he asked.

Hakuno sat up, unprepared for how relieved she was to hear English again. His accent was unfamiliar, but the words were perfectly clear. “Yes,” she said, squinting up. “My name's Hazel Kuznetov.”

Maybe he noticed the squint, because he moved out of the glare, though not any closer. His skin was tanned, but he wasn't actually Middle Eastern – possibly Japanese. Despite his white hair, he looked to be in his twenties. She thought she saw a red muffler wrapped around his head and throat under the burnoose. There was a long gun on his back.

He held his hand out. “I'm Shirou Emiya.”

Thank you for tagging me, @deemoyza. Going through my archive brought a lot of feelings of happiness and gratitude bubbling to the surface.

[mr-matteusz]

I had a wild dream

Kumoko from a spider so what but she’s reincarnated in Made in Abyss as one of the children that Bondrewd takes, same group as Nanachi and Mitty, she becomes friends with them and for whatever reason the three of them Get put into the elevator at the same time (it didnt look like the same one, more like a single-room prototype instead of the double one seen in the manga/anime)

All three of them survive but they do Get Narehate’d with Kumoko being obviously more spider like

Now the last bit im not sure should be included but in the dream they also got some transformative powers that they found out they could share between themselfs through some kind of mental link that also let them cooperate easily. They made an escape plan and ran away but this time Bondrewd Did chase after them because of how unique they became. The last bit might have just been a dream limitation because during the chase sequence it was just Kumoko but whenever stuff calmed down she split into three people, either dream limitation or transformative powers + cooperation link let them fuse into one being, that or it was this AU version of paralel minds

[derww]

Subz-centric, Vitalasy, Oasis and Zam are mentioned

TW: Nonconsensual body modifications, eldrich deity, temporary deaths

The Abyss is alive.

She is an ancient deity, born at the same time when the universe, infinitely wise and powerful, taking the energy of anyone who fell into the void, and the souls of those for whom this death became final. In the ancient centuries of wars between the deities, she spread corruption throughout the world, infecting living things and infusing her children into empty vessels, leaving deep purple rifts on the body of the earth and capturing entire countries.

But all wars are ending. When equal forces collide, they are doomed to destroy each other, and in this battle, there were no winners and losers, only scorched wastelands and dead mortals. Having lost millions of its children in this war, since then, the Abyss has never intervened directly in the course of things, only observing those who got too close and gifting those who are willing to listen. She no longer reached for the vessels to put her children into them – no, people themselves came to her, whether for strength or knowledge, and she generously endowed them as long as they carried her faith and her will.

***

Subz was a child abandoned by the world who had nothing dear left. The corruption embedded in his skin was supposed to kill him – slowly and gradually, but sooner or later, destroying the human in him and leaving only the creation of the void, the ideal wessel for the will of the Abyss.

He did not die. The corruption got into his face and body and poisoned his life, it blinded him on one eye and changed him forever, but he did not die. He survives and continues to live despite anyone's wishes, but the Abyss never really lets him go.

You are blessed by me, she says. Not every change is necessarily a curse, you didn't get worse, you just became different. Yes, I took your eye away, but only because I wanted to protect you, not to let you look so deeply that it would break you. I've changed the way you work, but it means that you won't die from what a human would die from. I've captured your thoughts, but that means you'll never really be alone. 

And the Abyss gave him wings. A real work of art, the stroke of an inspired master's pen, a ripple of black and purple, flexible and light, but wide and strong. Being high in the air was as natural as breathing. 

The Abyss didn't ask him for anything in return. "Go and live your life, child of the void," she said, and she never spoke to him in person again. Only her children, forever connected with him, became his observers and unwitting interlocutors.

He never accepted the Abyss, but he managed to put up with it. It became a part of who he is, and he could only live with it. That's what he does best: continues to live.

***

He wanders the world until he finds a place to live. Station 0 is completely surrounded by the void, and only in it do the voices in his head completely fall silent. He lives here, continuing to build its structure, insanely lonely in his peace, until the fox comes to him. The fox brings a woman in blue and a lot of problems.

He never finds peace again, and the voices eventually come back, but for some reason, he feels better. He allows himself to be carried away by people around him and, for the first time, understands what he is fighting for.

Vitalasy becomes an extension of himself. They build a dripstone cannon, launch deadly fireworks from the stage, and hold hands, running away from a crowd of enemies on an invisible scaffolding. Things work, but even when they don't, Subz and Vi stay with each other.

And then, in the middle of a long and exhausting war, the Vi asks to kill him.

Subz doesn't understand. He can't understand it. "Don't leave me," he doesn't say. Instead, he agrees because he can't refuse. While the voices in his head merge into a cacophony of grief, his hands do not tremble. He's doing what he has to do. He's not happy about it.

There is no intention left in him, only a function. He fights and fights and fights and fights, not because he wants to, but because he has nothing else. The war around him destroys lives and kills people, and he cuts it's way forward with a blade, killing, and killing, and killing, and killing...

Conflict never solves conflict, he realizes at some point. No matter what kind of war he is involved in, it is meaningless. None of what he's doing makes any sense. He never wants to fight again, but he continues simply because he can't stop.

And he jumps into the void with his enemies and his friends, promising himself that he never comes back to it.

***

He renounces violence because he never wants to kill again. People bring violence to his home because they don't care what he wants.

Each of his houses is destroyed, and he has to take a sword to protect himself and his friends, but it's still too much, and people continue to die by his hand, and at one point, standing in the middle of corpses, he wonders distantly whether the outcome would be better if he let them just kill him – and the answer is always no.

It never ends. He goes fifteen thousand blocks away just to not be touched, but people keep asking him for help, and he helps, of course he helps, but in the end it just embroils him in another war that he does not want to fight, and his base and dead horse turn out to be just collateral damage.

On this moonless night, he forges Deliverance – his message to the world and to himself, an ink needle, a murder weapon, a fragment of the oldest and blackest void infection, forged into a sword. He lifts it up into the sky, dotted with millions of stars, and swears that he will take revenge on all of them. He doesn't care about the world anymore. There are only two people in the entire universe who deserve his care.

He is both so significant and so small - he is here and not here, he is a god without a gram of strength, and the Abyss speaks with his voice, but he is never with hers, and everything comes to the point that he finds a third beloved, loses everything again, and runs away to the End only to die in silence. 

And he lives on. And once upon a time, no. But it doesn't matter anymore.

***

– I'm bored, – says PrinceZam, lying in the middle of the mesa part of the spawn, – I'm so fucking bored, Mape. Can we do anything at least a little interesting?