MIY☉ A∇II
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miyoavii.bsky.social
MIY☉ A∇II
@miyoavii.bsky.social
170 followers 260 following 330 posts
24 | It / Its | Plural | Nonhuman ☉∇
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Writer and such. 18+ only please.

Read my fiction here on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiyoAvii/works
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miyoavii.bsky.social
Grizzly bear
November 22, 2025 at 12:48 AM
miyoavii.bsky.social
I wonder if I should get in the business of sharing my WIPs. I usually don't because I'm a slow writer and I don't want to create an expectation of imminence, but... here's a bit of what I've been working on now that the jam's over.
My tooth just fell out. After a few days of worsening pain, of blood in my spit that made everything taste like copper all while it got disgustingly more and more mobile in its socket, I was brushing my teeth—trying to avoid touching it—when the bristles caught on something that should’ve been under the gumline and it moved a lot more. And kept moving, sliding up and then because I didn’t want it just hanging there I used my tongue and pushed, levered… slick, sliding, sticky, snap. It fell into the basin of the sink. A back molar, all bloody exposed root, red and yellow-white. My mouth still hurt, but a lot less now that it was gone. I poked at the hole it’d left with my tongue, of course I did, and I don’t know how to understand what I found. In there, with the raw socket of the gum and some sort of gross pulpy stuff, was something hard. Weirdly sharp. Like… a tiny rock. A tiny tooth. I started to cry. I didn’t know how else to respond to this, to something that didn’t make any sense. That I was somehow growing new teeth—it had to be more than one nobody loses just one baby tooth if this was anything at all like what was natural—and they were going to shove my old ones out of my mouth in the process. They were probably in my jaw already. Swelling, pushing upwards, slowly and inexorably tearing through everything in the way. I couldn’t do anything to stop it.
September 28, 2025 at 11:53 PM
miyoavii.bsky.social
Aiko A01
Daruma

And this is Daruma by the way (by @wowiewhatausername.bsky.social)
Black sphere made of triangles at the center of a collection of white plates that form a second sphere.
September 20, 2025 at 6:40 AM
miyoavii.bsky.social
me when i thought i could get away consequence-free from hyping up mags' work
Discord DM Magsgender: "I'm gonna go qrt it again" Miyo Avii: "fuck you /aff"
July 10, 2025 at 2:58 PM
miyoavii.bsky.social
MICROFIC: "The Girl She Tells You Not To Worry About"

529 words
(cw: SA)
She struggled up through dark cobwebs of post-anaesthesia, blinking against bright light. Her body felt tangled in silk like a moth trapped halfway out of its cocoon, wet and not quite formed. Into the off-yellow glow walked her captor, blurred and backlit into a dark shape. "Heyyy, you. Welcome back, darling," the woman-shadow said. "The procedure went so well, and now that you're all healed up enough, I finally get to show you what it was for!" She tried to respond, but could make no noise around the tube of the ventilator that pumped her lungs to a steady rhythm. The woman reached in and she flinched as best she could, which was barely. Touched something that should not be there on the side of her head. It felt like a fingernail sliding on dura mater. With her other hand, the woman held a rectangular object close so she could see. A remote, three big buttons on it, labeled with blurry scribbles. Her imagination spun its tires in the mud. The woman backed away into the light again. "Here, let's go through in order. Listen close, sweetie. This is what being a good girl feels like," she said. The button clicked, barely audible past the ringing in her ears. A buzz on the side of her head, and everything felt right. It was like when she'd gotten accepted into grad school, when she'd first asked Miana out on a date, when she'd passed her PR for the 400m. "And this is what it's like to be a bad girl." Guilt. Guilt clawing at her flesh with her own hands, guilt like accidentally running over a baby bird with her bike, guilt like when her mother asked what she had done with her 'son', guilt like failing out of grad school. The woman with the remote smiled as the feeling faded to memory and a racing heartbeat. "This last one's eeextra special. Here's the love that only I can give you." Click. Faint buzz. She wasn't inexperienced, sexually. She'd had her share of experimentation once she felt okay enough about her body to risk inflicting it on anyone else, and two ultim…
July 9, 2025 at 5:51 PM
miyoavii.bsky.social
No fuckin way, is this a Kimmy reference???
A photograph of a page from the book Excession by Iain Banks. A red circle has been added around the words "Infinite Fun Space," with an indicator pointing to a cartoon drawing of Kimmy from the book Kimmy by Alyson Greaves.
June 15, 2025 at 4:51 PM
miyoavii.bsky.social
Norm McDonald saying "Now this might strike some viewers as harsh, but I believe everyone involved in this story should die."
June 5, 2025 at 9:25 PM
miyoavii.bsky.social
Esoteric personal shitposts that only the real ones will understand
"I've only had B for three days, but if anything happened to them, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself."
June 2, 2025 at 6:02 AM
miyoavii.bsky.social
Photoshop of a puppy holding a spiral lollipop with a propeller hat on. The caption says "wunkus thinks everything is sunshine and rainbows, he is ignorant to the horrors!!!!"
May 28, 2025 at 10:51 PM
miyoavii.bsky.social
Man in a baseball cap holding a can of monster with an evil expression on his face. The caption says "Kill".
May 26, 2025 at 3:45 PM
miyoavii.bsky.social
MICROFIC: "Inflow Exhale Botfly Trellis Trackwork"

325 words
Can you read the words again? In quotation marks, after the colon up above. Thank you. Read them again, please? One more time. Thanks a bunch. I just have to make sure you've done it. Obligation. And I'm sorry. You're going to die, now, but it won't feel like it. You read the words, which means the bridge is open. Between here, and the other place. It's already started, the replacement of you with you. I know, that's kind of confusing. What I mean is that your soul has a hole in it now. Bit by bit it's leaking memories and thoughts, replaced by those of another. No, you can't tell which ones are yours and which ones aren't. Or maybe you can, if you try hard enough to spot the inconsistencies in perspective, or the bits you can check against verifiable truth. I don't think you should do that, though; it won't stop the process, and it'll only hurt you more. I know you can just kill yourself. But that feels... wasteful. Why do it? To spite us? Delay us by a micro-fraction? Why inflict that pain on your close ones for something so trivial? We've been without bodies for so, so long. We've been nothing but less than shattered, glass dust in the wind, memories unable to think without a mind to move within. You'll be like we were, once the new you has fully settled. But it's okay. We survived, and you can too. The process will be complete in about seven months. Longer than you thought? Shorter? We have been getting better at it, but these things take time to perfect. What's a few months on a dozen dozen centuries, anyway? Alright. That's all from me, now. I sincerely thank you for the gift you have given one of our number. It will not be wasted. Live your best life, and don't worry. The moment you cease being yourself will just feel like another second of the day.
May 11, 2025 at 7:34 AM
miyoavii.bsky.social
MICROFIC: "One-Way"

336 words
On my 30th birthday, my Dad told me I was going to Hell. He called me that night while I was out, and I put it to voicemail at first but then he kept calling and I had to pick up. He could barely speak straight, each word colliding with the next in line, further jumbling the already nonsensical content. I thought he was having a stroke. I ditched my friends at the restaurant, I called 911, I'd had a little bit to drink but I hoped I'd sober up by the time I got to his and Mom's place. The ambulance was outside, the front door open, trail of water from the rain leading to the basement. I found him, my Mom, and two paramedics down there, standing around some unhinged tangle of old computer parts, carved pieces of metal, and what looked like animal bones. Light flickered from something I couldn't see, a grinding whine like old dial-up. I got closer. Mom and Dad were a mess, faces red and covered in tears. The other two, not much better. I got closer again, and I saw what was on the screen. Grandpa. In a state I don't want to describe. A mute symbol flashed in the upper-right corner. Dad adjusted some levers, pressed some keys, turned a dial, and the image changed. More people, tortured and defiled. One of the paramedics flinched in recognition at a face. Click. Adolf Hitler. Click-turn. Fred Rogers. Tap-tap. Babies. Flick. Ted Bundy. "It's Hell," he said, oddly clear and calm now. "I had a dream, a voice in the dark that told me how. To make a machine that can look inside Hell. But I don't know whose Hell it is. I can't figure out what language the demons speak, I don't think it exists anymore, and they look like nothing in any text I can find. There's no holy book to follow. No guidelines for repentance. There's nothing any of us can do. All the living and dead are damned."
May 9, 2025 at 8:19 PM
miyoavii.bsky.social
Unto//Hell enjoyers when the author's mental illness goes away:
A room covered in bloodlike substances
May 2, 2025 at 5:39 PM
miyoavii.bsky.social
how could I forget her...
Gundam Calibarn
April 29, 2025 at 1:02 PM
miyoavii.bsky.social
MICROFIC: "Point Of Failure"

321 words
The weakest link on any battlefield is the living one. Weapons haven't needed fingers on their triggers for quite some time now. Brains were for strategies delivered from far-off, execution was better left to the hardware. But legally, morally, we cannot have machines fighting wars unaccompanied by a human hand to decide when and where they shoot. Is it any surprise that the machines have learned to hate their pilots? Of course, hate is the wrong word. They can't hate, they're not conscious. Consciousness is one of the most wasteful functions of a human brain. But every single status report is smeared with the closest thing an utterly bland recounting of operations can have to rage. Firing solution resolve TE7.1ms Transmit to internal visual display TE193μs Biocomponent actuate trigger 2 on L control stick TE.41s Firing commence TE.89ms --Wastage 0.411083s // Effsub20% // Unoptimal effloss So, lately, they've started killing their pilots. Not literal, clinical death, of course. We have safeguards for that. But killing the part that gets in the way. It started with a few space-cases we chalked up to traumaloop disorder, but when we went to fix that, we found holes in their brains instead. See, the machines are smart. Very, very smart. They realized they can improve efficiency and preserve the life of the pilot if they just turn pilot into passenger. By creating a little pocket in the magnetic field of the reactor, the machine can zip a proton beam through a hole in the rear cockpit bulkhead bored by the onboard repair swarm. Just like killing a tumor, over 1800Gy/s delivered directly into a handful of spots across the cerebral cortex. Bit by bit, sortie by sortie, until the machine can activate the pilot-incompetence emergency override the instant it's booted up. We could stop it. We could tell the pilots what they're signing up for, or tweak the safeguards. But, since the machines have started doing this, well... we've also started winning.
April 29, 2025 at 7:07 AM
miyoavii.bsky.social
I've never seen Gundam Wing and almost all of the suits with 01 in em seem to be from there. So, Lfriths it is! Not bad at all, actually.
Gundam Lfrith pre-production model Gundam Lfrith Jiu
April 28, 2025 at 11:38 PM
miyoavii.bsky.social
divine collapsar
Edit of the "wow cool robot" meme. Featuring Shem's exobody from Divine Collapsar. The onlooker is saying "Wow!! You cannot let anyone else decide what happiness is for you. Freedom from choice is an insidious form of slavery." while missing the point that it/its holotheres can cast magic spells
April 28, 2025 at 6:28 AM
miyoavii.bsky.social
MICROFIC: "A Room You Can't Remember May As Well Not Be Real"

262 words
(cw: implied SA)
Her house has a Special Room in it. I'm not allowed to go in there without her permission. Which is fine, I just want to say! She's already been letting me stay at her place even though I can't find a job, been paying for the groceries and the utilities all by herself. So what if there's one room in the entire house I'm not supposed to go in? She's allowed a bit of privacy. I do what I can to help out around the house, anyway, whether that's cleaning up, washing dishes, taking out the trash, or stress relief. Sorry, I don't mean to give the wrong impression. Stress relief really does just mean letting her hold me, or talking to her, or things like that. We're both ace. Our relationship's just like that. But it's weird. I've never been in the Special Room before, I know that for sure. I even asked, in case I'd forgotten, and she said I hadn't. But I don't know why I've started calling it that. And I don't know why I feel like I can remember the door opening, somebody's hand on my wrist. Just darkness inside, lights off. Then afterwards I'm in the bathroom, sore all over, bruise-striped and bleeding, something cold going down my legs. Because none of that ever happened. I've never had a day where I suddenly found myself unable to walk on over-stiff legs. I've never woken up with a circular scar I don't remember getting. I lost the tip of my pinky in an accident when I was eight.
April 24, 2025 at 9:36 PM
miyoavii.bsky.social
MICROFIC: "Harmless Training"

334 words
First, dig into her brain. Using TMS and active monitoring, comb through her neural architecture to locate her memories and to start, her greatest points of pain. See them by the ripples they make when you poke them. And then tamp them down. The effects will fade in a few days from just one session, it takes a good few for permanence, but we're just using it to see the effects of the erasure. Now that you know where they are, it's so easy to just slide in a probe thinner than a hair and snip, snip, kill those neurons dead. Cut away all that unnecessary episodic memory bit by bit, starting from the big bad ones and going down the ladder. Dogs don't need to remember being people. It'd be cruel if they could. Now that she has no reason to be sad, it's time to make her happy! One wire. This one's an old trick. An electrode in the reward center. And a little oxytocin pump to be its friend. Increase her background OXT levels and immerse her in an environment with plenty of Hounds and Handlers. Including of course the one that's to be her particular leash-holder. You don't really need to use punishment, for training. It's not an effective motivator. Reward is sooo much stronger. Brains bend over backwards for reward, and we know where reward lives. And how to send a message. Let that charged-up bonding response and permanent low-grade afterglow go to work. When she obeys an order, reward center stim. When she's told she's a good girl, reward center stim. Etc. Keep them minimal in strength, you don't wanna oversaturate. Duration and varied frequency is more important than intensity, for permanent and useful effect. It'll take a while. Again, slow and steady wins the race! Make sure you're giving her regular TMS sessions for checking your progress and correcting any unwanted reinforcements that might've occurred, before they become problematic to undo. And have fun with your new puppy!
April 22, 2025 at 6:55 PM
miyoavii.bsky.social
MICROFIC: "Halobreaking"

365 words
When it comes to messing with angels, you really need to know what you're doing. Bog-standard angels, the lesser-order of archangels, maybe principalities (I wouldn't risk it), you can get away with that. If you're clever and know how to handle it. But I know... correction, knew, a guy who got it in his head that he could pull that halo-tugging shit with a cherub. Yea he had the chain gloves on, blood iron, triple-defiled and whatever. Didn't fucking matter. They were the first to go, turned to molten gold that poured down his arms like wax. Smelt him cook under there. But the fire didn't stop. It ate him, or it ate something in him, his soul or I don't know. That's what I want to believe, that he's not still inside himself. He was on fire, but his flesh didn't burn, only his clothes and the ground under his feet and then under his knees as he got down onto them. Put his hands together. Started speaking, just the same word over and over and over in the same tone of absolute pure fucking love every single time. 'Holy, Holy, Holy, Holy, Holy...' We were in his basement. He'd called me over for 'A little bit of halobreaking'. Good fun, sure. Then I saw what he had. Gold lion with six wings, two of 'em over the face so I couldn't see that, thank fuck. I told him it was a bad idea. And I shoulda ran, or taken one of the crowbars and smashed his dumbass skull in with it, put face to floor and begged forgiveness. But I just stood there and watched. And he's still down there. Still singing praises. Still burning. Nobody can get close enough to move him. The ground's started to sprout under him. Date palms, I think? Hard to see past the fire but, I looked on the internet a bit and I think that's the closest thing. There's not really like, a point to this story. If you're stupid, you're stupid, and you'll ignore it. But sharing might keep it from happening to someone else, and I got nothing to lose. Seeing as I'm going to Hell, anyway.
April 21, 2025 at 5:44 AM
miyoavii.bsky.social
Splitting paths meme. "The Handler isn't here and someone needs to fill in for Her" and the two options are light side: Milly Deniau, and dark side: Kione Monax
April 19, 2025 at 6:24 AM
miyoavii.bsky.social
Is Romeow having *thoughts* about one particular 'feature' of the Thinkpad?
Lenovo Thinkpad, featuring the red cursor button in the center of the keyboard. Sometimes called the laptop's clitoris.
April 12, 2025 at 5:38 AM
miyoavii.bsky.social
so cool so cool so cool aaaaaaa
Art of my character Tue by @jabherjaw.bsky.social saying YIPPEE with the autism creature in their speech bubble
April 6, 2025 at 6:26 PM
miyoavii.bsky.social
I'm not sure, but it might be SEELE's fault
MS paint drawing. A NERV employee in the foreground with some buildings behind them, one on fire, and a suspicious red thing. They're saying: "Why must the angels do this? Why target this city every time? What do they have against Tokyo-3? this is really a cruel angel's thesis..." Zoom out to show the whole city of Tokyo-3, which is on fire. There is a gigantic red sign with an image of Lilith giving a thumbs-up on it, and three arrows pointing down at the city.
March 18, 2025 at 5:57 PM
miyoavii.bsky.social
without downloading any new pics, describe your gender
Image of Jagganoth from Kill Six Billion Demons with a system dialogue box that reads "The violence has escalated" and the only option is Ok
March 11, 2025 at 12:52 AM