The Abyss Writes

An official writing side blog for the Abyss, otherwise known as that science dork with a passion for creative writing. Just some ideas I want to keep around for any number of reasons, feel free to look around. 

[weenwem]

Bellara and Neve

I like the dynamics of their friendship 🧡

[abysswritings]

Broken dreams and blackened days What is dread but nothing known? Fallen shards of all that's lost Fragment reflections of what never was Want is hunger Want is hunger Want is hunger I fear the wolf with ravenous growls Starlit paths and piecemeal dreams What is hope but fulfillment had? Echoes of life that had remained Shimmering promises of all that could be Love is satiety Love is satiety Love is satiety I do not fear the wolf when I'm with you

                          ...I do not f e e l the wolf when I'm with you

[abysswritings]

If love and violence are the same Then everything holds love Or perhaps, if love and violence are the same Then everything holds violence

                                      (My heart is in his mouth and I want him to bite)

That is neither love nor violence That is unneeded bloodshed

                                                                                (Then I want to be saved)

Then do so, darling You have always known how to save yourself

                                                                          (I only know how to b r e a k)

And is that not the same? Adaptability is flexibility Flexibility is the success to change Everything must break to be changed Everything must change to be saved

                                                       (And what of loved? What of violence?)

Loved. Do you wish to be saved by love? Do you wish to love and be saved? Do you understand the violence of both? The parts of you that must be torn asunder?

                                                               (I only wish to know if I am worthy)

Worthy of being loved? Or worthy of being saved?

                                                                                                                    (...

                                                                                                               ...Yes)

Worthiness is not your decision Everyone is worthy of love and savior Which is to say, no one is deserving of either It is honor bestowed by another To seal the broken pieces together anew

                                                             (I do not want to be broken for him)

And how else do you suppose to love and be loved? How else do you suppose to take the essence of another? You must first have the cracks to be filled You must first fill the cracks of him

                                     (And is it not enough to want my heart to bleed?                                       To fill those cracks with the essence of myself?)

What good is your blood in the mouth of another?

                                 (If love and violence are the same, sacrifice is king                                                                               Sacrifice begets violence                                                                                        Sacrifice begets love)

What good is sacrifice without a guiding hand? If love and violence are the same It is not the best parts of you that must bleed It is the worst parts of you that must burn Do you think he wishes otherwise?

                                                                                  (...I want to be w h o l e)

Shed the flames, shed the blood Rise anew Find the love will kill the parts of you not worth harboring Find the love will make you whole

                                                        (I want to be saved, I want to be saved                                                            I want to be killed, I want to be loved.                                                                                              He could save me                                                                                              He does love me)

Good. To acknowledge is to move forward

[abysswritings]

[abysswritings]

And is it not enough to want my heart to bleed?

[abysswritings]

My heart beats with an ache because it knows half itself resides within the chest of another.

letters to a dead man // j.p

[abysswritings]

Love cannot fix a person, but oh honey watch how it guides

j.p.

[abysswritings]

I need to learn how to quit. How to know when to stop waiting for something that is never coming.

j.p.

[abysswritings]

Snakes

You stand in a field and stare, focus on feeling the soft breezes on your face and smelling the fresh air that is supposed to be around you. You try to come here often. They tell you to come here often. They tell you it should be safe here. Free from worry, free from everything.

There is no such place, you know this, but you try to believe them. For your sake and for theirs.

It is a comfort to be here most times. Free from it all for just a little while, but it never lasts. Sometimes you are pulled away. Others, the intruders find you. The latter is worse. You are always prepared for it less somehow.

You see the snake slithering towards you, glistening white in its deliberate movements. You do not move, you do not try acknowledging it. You do not know if acknowledging it makes it worse, but you dare not try. It is best to ignore it. You focus on the breeze as you feel it graze your leg, you focus on the air as you feel it start climbing up your body, you focus on the green in front of you as it starts wrapping around your neck.

And then nothing.

It does not move again, nor do you. It sits there, uncomfortable in its grip but not dangerous per se. You do not move. You do not speak, there is no point. You know this dance well. The snake will stay and so will you, neither budging, neither backing down. Its weight is upon you but you cannot complain, there has always been worse.

Over time, you find it easier to ignore. The breezes continue and the feel of them almost drowns the feel of the snake. Its weight is there but not ever present, more lurking in the shadows. A dull reminder but not a pressing one. You almost forget about it completely when you spot the second one. Slithering, black, opposite in every way to the other one and yet somehow the same.

Again you do nothing. You do not move, you do not acknowledge it as it climbs up you as the first one did. You do nothing as it comes to coil around the first and stretch its head the opposite way. Nor is this one dangerous per se, but its grip is there and pulling one way, while the other is there and pulls the opposite. The combination makes things tighter. Harder. Breathing is difficult but not unbearable.

And then nothing.

They both remain and so do you. You do nothing but try to focus on the surroundings around you. It is harder this time and inevitably you fail as all you can wonder is when the snakes will snap your neck with their opposite pulling. When will you stop breathing? When will this be done?

Still you do not move. You do not speak. To speak is weakness. To move is selfish. You are meant to bear these snakes as you imagine others bear different ones. Perhaps they are not even snakes at all for others. You do not know, and though you wonder you do not move. You do not speak. You do nothing. The field is nothing. You are nothing. The only thing that is something are the snakes. The snakes and their unbearable force and their crushing weight.

They will kill you. Snap your neck, steal your breath. They will be your end or they will make you speak. Perhaps those are one in the same.

And just as the field starts to flicker with each ragged breath, there is nothing. It is a different nothing as the snakes uncoil. As they slither back down your body and in opposite directions from the other. You can breathe, you can stare. You can feel. Cool breezes dance across your burning neck.

They remain, the snakes. Just outside of the field, watching. Waiting. You can feel them too. They will return and you know this but what can you do? The field is the safest place you have. You would rather encounter them here than elsewhere. Here they harm no one else.

They will return, and so will you. For now though, for now you leave. You leave in silence with burning neck and burning thoughts. You will return, as they will, for you as well are a creature of habit. But for now, there are other things to attend.

[abysswritings]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“Weiss Schnee often looks in the mirror and doesn’t like the reflection staring back at her. The path to find herself in the mirror again is not an easy one. Otherwise known as the four times Weiss looked in the mirror and didn’t like what she saw, and the one time she didn’t.”

Also otherwise known as five scenes based on five songs that are probably based on five canon scenes.

Chapter 3 of Reflections, that one Weiss fanfic.

Cross-posted on fanfiction.net

[abysswritings]

I like writing, it's therapeutic. I like giving a voice to the worlds in my head. But after a while of no one listening, I have to wonder if it's worth wasting my breath.

j.p.

[abysswritings]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“Weiss Schnee often looks in the mirror and doesn’t like the reflection staring back at her. The path to find herself in the mirror again is not an easy one. Otherwise known as the four times Weiss looked in the mirror and didn’t like what she saw, and the one time she didn’t.”

Also otherwise known as five scenes based on five songs that are probably based on five canon scenes.

Chapter 2 of Reflections, that one Weiss fanfic.

Cross-posted on fanfiction.net

[abysswritings]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“Weiss Schnee often looks in the mirror and doesn't like the reflection staring back at her. The path to find herself in the mirror again is not an easy one. Otherwise known as the four times Weiss looked in the mirror and didn't like what she saw, and the one time she didn't.”

Also otherwise known as five scenes based on five songs that are probably based on five canon scenes.

So, I guess I’m writing fanfiction again. It’s been a long time, but the idea wouldn’t leave me alone and I’m excited for volume 5. Plus I haven’t seen too much about Weiss alone so I figured I might as well.

Yay character studies!

Cross-posted on fanfiction.net

[abysswritings]

I think one of the best things I've learned is that wisdom doesn't come with age. Wisdom comes with experience. And experience doesn't come with age either. Experience comes with what life throws at you.

reminders for myself // j.p.

[abysswritings]

I saw you smile and I knew then I would extinguish the stars themselves if it meant you kept smiling. They would never compare to you.

j.p.

[abysswritings]

Dear soulmate, my heart is growing weary. I’m ready to come home.

j.p.

[abysswritings]

I'm so sick of hearing Everything happens for a reason Because there is no reason In spilled tears and broken hearts They say pain makes you stronger But how much pain Must one endure before It becomes too much to bear? That phrase seems to be The only way the world Gives reason to the unexplained And justifies the unjustifiable Well I don't want to justify anymore

pain has no reason // j.p.