#i lost this in the discord but i found it again!

[b-elmount]

【 ⎯⎯⎯ ✉  ; bran 】plotted starter.

its always the first session that person were the most stand-offish. despite their own hands signing off on the admission slips they do so often do their best to protect whatever image they take issues with. perhaps it was the standing stigma that therapy was  C U R E  for an illness of the mind; oh how wrong those stereotypes could be. julius didn’t get his doctorate to listen to whims of sad people wanting a shoulder to cry on only to be rewarded with kind words; no. he got his degree to help guide a person through the process of their own mind-- a dissection he could watch while he instructed one where to  c u t  and sew shut.

other who suffered a tragedy were much more interesting-- they had true merit for their actions and feelings. without parading their woes on their shoulders. only time would tell what sort bran was.      ❝ comfort is a top priority here; i allow my patients to address me by my first name if they are so inclined. you may think of this time to do with what you like, speak only words you’d like to say in confidence.  ❞

/ @nvrcmplt​

[ezziemagpie]

Fanfic authors, please, I implore you, from one writer to another, DO NOT DELETE YOUR WORKS. Change the account ownership, make a different pseud to put it under, anonymise or orphan them, it doesn't matter, just please, please, PLEASE, do not delete them. Please. Even if you think they're badly written, or out of character, or a decade old, or 'cringe', or whatever, there will be some poor schmuck out there who loves what you've written and will cry over its deletion because they forgot to download it. - Sincerely, some poor schmuck who loves what someone wrote and has spent the last ten hours trying to track it down because he forgot to download it.

[do-you-know-this-adhd-character]

Do you know this (noncanon) ADHD character?

Evidence below the cut!

can be pretty hyperactive, forgets things regularly (even important things, forgot he turned into a heartless in kh1), distractable, later on he seems to have some problems with emotional dysregulation. hes constantly called lazy by his friends but as soon as hes doing something he likes he has all the energy in the world, and also tends to dismiss his own intelligence despite actually being pretty smart, both of which are things that i think are decently common with undiagnosed adhd

[bugfail]

it's cool finding people i used to know on the woy amino in the wild but also oh my god why are so many of them into hh/hb now like what happened to you.....

[sludgeguzzler]

man. i changed so much these past years

[indelible-waltz]

@rapidlydecayingcorpse

should i make the most selection biased poll?

[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 1] Offerings

Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

*Just want to preface that this is a historical AU but there will be some historical inaccuracies so if you see something odd, don't point it out. Also this is still a curse AU! if that isn't clear with four-armed Sukuna. Anyway I hope you enjoy!! Any general story warnings can be found in the masterlist!

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Sukuna is missing something, he’s not sure what it is but he knows that he’s bored. He’s bored of everything that once thrilled him, tired of the same routine. But no matter what he does, he feels empty. 

He’s done everything possible to soothe that boredom, which has come to the expense of many lives. It entertained him until it didn’t. Occasionally he does find joy in the horrors that he causes but it doesn’t feel like that’s enough anymore. There’s something that he’s missing, but he’s not quite sure what it is. 

He has everything a man could possibly want– Although he isn’t exactly a man so his wants and needs are obviously different. He isn’t going to be fulfilled by the foolish ideals of happiness that men have. He doesn’t have much of a guide though, therefore he’s lost in how to fix his problem. 

“Uraume.” Sukuna’s voice isn’t all that loud, yet Uraume nearly comes running to fulfill his request. The temple is uncomfortably quiet; everyone is ready to fulfill Sukuna’s every request, and their king does not raise his voice unless adrenaline rushes through him, or he’s upset. No one knows which is the worst of the two. 

“My king.” Uraume kneels down before him. He’s quiet, too embarrassed to even bring up this question. It’s unlike him. Uraume is truly the only person that he respects which is why asking the question is hard for him to actually say. He wouldn’t trust anyone else with it though.

“What do men usually do?” He asks, which is odd for Uraume to hear. Sukuna was a man too, once upon a time. But he doesn’t remember that stage of his life, and he’s sure he wasn’t happy either which is the reason why he’s the monster he is now.

“I’m not sure.” They sound reluctant. “If you could be more clear, I can search for an answer.”

“Get out.” He orders, and they bow again before exiting the room. He wants to be left alone to gather his thoughts. He has all the time in the world to figure himself out, but he wants even more time. He doesn’t want to be bothered now of all times at the very least.

“There’s a woman with an offering.” A servant tells him from the other side of the tatami doors, followed by a shrill cry that makes a smirk come to his lips. That’s his answer.

Sukuna wants a successor. 

“Take it to the servants, answer to her needs.” Sukuna answers, not really caring to listen to any requests. His mind is now preoccupied, detailing his next course of action. He needs to find the perfect woman to carry his heir, which he knows will be a hard task– Perhaps the hardest challenge that Sukuna has come by in all of his years of living.

“Please eat, Haru.” You put the bowl beside the young boy’s mat. You’ve been slowly watching your brother’s health deteriorate, slowly watching his death near. Worst of all, you have been looking for a cure that seems impossible to find because it’s not something that’s affecting anyone important. 

It’s not a disease that’s affecting anybody else, really. It’s not infectious, you quickly found that out. You were glad about it at first, but then you realized that there’s no cure yet. Days pass by, and he gets worse. He refuses to eat anything, and when he does, he can’t keep it down for more than a few hours. His death is imminent.

“I did everything I could to get the right ingredients for your favorite food. Auntie made it extra special for you.” You make sure to tell him, but he can barely move. You kneel down beside him, grabbing his utensils and preparing a bite. “Just one bite, Haru.”

“I’m sleepy.” Is all he manages to mutter, and you feel a pull on your heartstrings. Your hand caresses his arm.

“Just one bite, okay? Then you can sleep all day.” You try your best to convince him. All he does is sleep, and no matter how many hours he sleeps, he wakes up tired. He prompts himself up, and you’re fighting back a smile– It’s barely any progress, if you can even call it that. “Open up.”

There’s a smile on your lips as you bring the food to his mouth, and he begins to chew. He takes the utensils from your hand, grabbing the bowl of food and putting it on his lap. You stand up and tell him, “I’ll get you some water.”

“He’s finally eating something.” You share with your aunt, making sure your voice is low since there isn’t all that much space. Her eyes go to him, and she really wants to say that it’s a sign of him getting better but it really doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes he eats everything that’s made for him, but he throws it back up. 

“I really wish this meant he was getting better… But we both know that he’ll get worse tomorrow.” She responds, and you want to curse her for even mentioning it but you know she’s right. You don’t like hearing it though, you’re helpless. There’s nothing more you can do for Haru, you’re just waiting for the day to come. 

“I really think he can get better.” Your eyes begin to feel with tears, knowing that you don’t even believe yourself. You’ve tried everything you possibly can, but you know that his time nears. You can’t just accept that fact though, he’s your baby brother, you can’t let him go. “Let me get his water.”

“I’ll get it… Think about what the medic said.” Your aunt reminds you of the visit from the physician. One that you’ve forgotten because you refuse to consider his one and only suggestion a possibility. The words flow back to your head,

“Your best bet is the deity up north. You have to bring him an offering, and if he deems it worthy enough, he will cure him.” “But if he thinks it’s beneath him, he’ll kill you.”

You don’t want to risk anything, but lately that seems like your only option. He’s not getting any better, even though you so badly want to say that he is. Throwing up everything he eats is not much improvement than not eating at all. You just have to figure out what is considered an offering worthy for the deity to save him, and to save yourself. 

“I’ll be back, I have to figure something out.” You say, smiling back at your aunt and your little brother. They barely acknowledge you before you leave the house, which you’re thankful for. You just need a moment to gather your thoughts, decide what you’ll do next. 

You need to sort out your offering for the deity, an offering that will hopefully sort out all of your problems.

“My king, there’s a woman with an offering.” It feels like the hundredth time that week in which Sukuna hears that sentence. Humans are greedy beings, and they all fucking need something. It’s unnecessary, purely materialistic– It’s a side of humanity that he appreciates though. How much a human is willing to sacrifice for wealth or the promise of good fortune. Sukuna can’t judge, he's the sole winner in the end.

“Let her in.” He says, and the tatami door slides open. A poor maiden with a pale yellow kimono, and a woven basket in hand. You walk in with your head down, following the strict instructions that were given to you. 

You’re trembling as you kneel down in front of the deity, bowing down to him. You remain bowing for however long he pleases, keeping your eyes shut because there’s tears building up. You have never been this terrified. Willingly putting yourself at death’s door is no easy feat.

“Rise.” He orders, and you straighten your upper body, remaining on your knees. You don’t dare look anywhere past his feet, keeping your eyes low and steady. You know that he’s staring you down, studying you. A smirk on his lips, thinking about how he’s found her. “What do you want?”

“My brother…” Your voice is shaky, and you try your best to compose yourself. You can’t start crying in the middle of it, you’ve gotten this far, he’ll surely kill you if you begin to sob at his feet. “He’s sick. The medic can’t cure him, and he told us you were our only choice.”

He’s not really listening. Something about a brother is all he grasped. He’s more into the way your lips move, and the tears of pure fear that well up in your eyes. He can tell that you really made an effort into your look today, even though you don’t look extravagant. Which for some reason he likes, he doesn’t want an arrogant woman in his chambers, he already has enough of them. He especially doesn’t want one of them carrying his heir.

What really draws him in is that certain look in your eyes. The clear innocence that’s written all over your face. You’re the perfect lily that he can’t wait to tear apart, petal by petal. That finalizes his decision.

“What do you have for me? Open the basket.” He orders, and you do as he says. Regret washes over you as you open it, immediately knowing that it’s not enough. You don’t know what came over you when you had the bright idea of picking it. You unfold the cloth with shaky hands, revealing the gift for him. He’s usually furious with these types of gifts, since they hold no value to him but he wants to hear your reasoning since he has other plans with you, “Why do you come to me with this?”

“Pomegranates aren’t native to the land, and they’re scarce this time of season. I found some while searching for an offering and thought it was a sign.” You explain, and he scoffs. A stupid reason, one that should get you killed. If he wanted fruit, he would send Uraume to get it for him. He guesses it’s creative though, especially when almost every person that walks through the temple is willing to sacrifice a life. But you don’t gain points for creativity, no one ever has.

“Pomegranates? What am I supposed to do with that?” He’s mocking you, and you swallow the lump in your throat. He’s right, what is he supposed to do with a pomegranate? He’s not like you, he’s not just going to eat it. You’re usually smart about this type of thing, but you guess desperation got the best of you this time around, and now you have to pay for the consequences. As to be expected, there’s no answer from you, and he orders, “Look up at me.”

Your eyes slowly move up his body to his face, and you’re in awe at the sight. A mix of emotions flow through your body. He really isn’t a human. You were terrified earlier, but now you’re simply astonished. You never really believed the tales that were told about him since you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that a being like him could exist. But now he stands before you.

“Do you really think I’ll do anything with the fruit?” His voice sounds serious, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. You shake your head which irks him. “You have a voice don’t you? Use it.”

“No, my king. My apologies.” It’s strange, but you sound more confident as you look at him compared to before. It brings some sort of satisfaction to Sukuna since usually people that are allowed to look directly at him can barely communicate.  

“I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself.” He’s thinking about how merciful he is– Which isn’t entirely a lie since Sukuna never gives a second chance. Except you have no idea how you can redeem yourself unless he dismisses you. Little do you know what he’s thinking for you. “I have a proposal for you.”

“A what…?” Your eyebrows perk up as curiosity takes over you. A proposal from a deity, it’ll surely be something that you have yet to hear. 

“Bear my child, and I’ll forgive you.” He says, and you almost fall back. Your ears must be deceiving you, there’s no way that the proposal that you just heard is real. Your eyes are wide open, and you hear him laugh. It must be a joke then. 

“Uraume!” Sukuna yells, wanting it to be clear that he doesn’t want to waste a single second. Not even a second later, and they’re in the room, waiting for their king’s command. “Take the maiden and prepare her for me tonight.”

“Wait– You’re serious?” You dare to ask. You haven’t even agreed, yet he’s getting you ready for tonight, to have a baby with him of all things. “You don’t even know my name, why would you want me to carry your baby?”

“What’s your name then?” He asks, clearly irritated by the question, and you have no choice but to answer. If you don’t, you’re screwed. “There we have it. Take her, Uraume.”

“Wait!” You shout, but Sukuna isn’t going to listen to more of it. Uraume guides you outside, a task that they usually do harsher. At any other time, they’d be dragging you outside but you’re not just anybody. 

You’re the woman that will carry King Sukuna’s heir.

[alyrasturnz]

you're so good at writing arguements and stuff i just finished reading "but daddy i love him" and oh my GOD. pls write a matt x reader angsty tosotd oneshot with an arguement and an apology

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR

❐ summary » y/n and matt had an anniversary dinner planned, a special evening meant to celebrate their bond. but once again, matt stayed late at work, putting aside their plans. this wasn't the first time—he had done it countless times before, each instance chipping away at y/n's patience. finally, she reached her breaking point. sick and tired of his neglect, she stormed out, calling things off in a fit of frustration. deep down, she hoped he would run after her, show her that she mattered.

❐ pairings » bf!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » argument (resolved), swearing, lowkey toxic!matt, toxic relationship dynamic

❐ a/n && w/c » here’s something small to keep yall fed while i work on something bigger… •  1.98k

in the dim glow of their intimate living room, the air between you and matt crackled with a palpable intensity, the kind that precedes a storm.

the rain outside mirrored the tempest brewing within, each droplet a thunderous note in the symphony of nature's fury, crashing onto the pavement with a relentless rhythm.

earlier that evening, their argument had been ignited by a matter so seemingly inconsequential, yet it had fanned the flames of discord into a roaring inferno.

matt had neglected the anniversary dinner plans, choosing instead to linger late at the warehouse, an oversight that cast a long shadow over the evening's expectations.

you had devoted the entire day to crafting a special meal, meticulously setting the table with candles and flowers, your heart brimming with anticipation to celebrate your love.

but as the hours slipped away and the food grew cold, your excitement metamorphosed first into disappointment, then hardened into a simmering anger.

and you might have let this transgression slide. but now you found yourself unable to, as this was the third and final strike.

when matt eventually crossed the threshold, exhausted and oblivious to the emotional storm brewing within you, the dam of your restraint finally burst.

"do you even care about us anymore?" you demanded, your voice quivering with the weight of unspoken sorrow and pent-up frustration.

matt, taken aback, attempted to articulate an explanation as he gently closed the door. "y/n, i'm sorry. time slipped away from me."

"lost track of time?" you echoed, your eyes welling up with tears. "do you have any idea how that makes me feel? like i'm not important to you!" you exclaimed, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions.

matt sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "it's not like that, y/n. things come up and—"

"things come up?" you repeated in disbelief, your voice tinged with incredulity as you grabbed your bag.

"why can't you just listen to me for once?" matt's voice rose, each word laden with frustration and desperation.

you crossed your arms, your eyes blazing with anger. "i have listened, matt! but you never seem to care about what i need," you shot back, your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and fury.

matt took a step closer, his voice softer but no less intense. "i care, y/n. but you keep pushing me away," he murmured, his eyes searching yours for any glimmer of understanding.

you shook your head, tears beginning to spill from your eyes. "maybe because i'm tired of fighting for something that feels so one-sided," you whispered, your voice breaking under the weight of your emotions.

an oppressive silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating, as if the very air had thickened with unspoken words and lingering tension.

the silence that hung in the air signaled the breaking point of their relationship, a palpable void filled with the weight of unspoken grievances and shattered dreams.

the silence that ensnared them, coiling around their throats and stifling their breaths, as though the very air conspired to suffocate the remnants of their faltering connection.

finally, you could endure no longer. "this time, i’ve had enough," you declared, your voice trembling with the weight of your resolve. "i’m leaving," you stated, the finality of your words hanging in the air like a solemn decree.

matt’s eyes widened in shock, a mixture of disbelief and desperation flooding his gaze. "y/n, wait—" he stammered, his voice a fragile plea against the impending void.

but you were already at the door, your resolve unyielding to his desperate entreaties. "don't call me," you uttered, your voice quivering with a tumultuous blend of anger and sorrow. "it's over," you declared, the finality of your words echoing with irrevocable certainty.

as the door slammed shut with a resounding finality, matt stood there, stunned into silence. he longed to chase after you, to mend the fractured pieces of their relationship, but his feet felt as though they were anchored to the floor, paralyzed by the weight of his own inaction.

a surge of anger and melancholy surged through matt, the emotions intertwining like a tempest within him. tears streamed down his face, carving silent paths of sorrow, as he ran a trembling hand through his disheveled hair, each motion a testament to his inner turmoil.

"fuck!" he yelled, kicking the door with a force that echoed his frustration.

he let out a series of pathetic sobs, his back desperately seeking support against the unyielding door as he slid down, finally collapsing to the floor. burying his face into his hands, he succumbed to the torrent of despair that engulfed him.

outside, y/n walked into the pouring rain, the heavens weeping in unison with the turmoil within. each step felt like a penance, their heart laden with regret, a sorrow that seemed to seep into the very fabric of the storm around them.

deep down, you harbored a fragile hope that matt would follow, that he would stand beneath your window, the rain mingling with his fervent cries of love, throwing pebbles to capture your attention, a modern-day romeo desperate to mend the rift between you.

but for now, all you had was the relentless rain and the haunting echo of your own words, reverberating through the solitude. you wished with all your heart that matt could see beyond his pride and comprehend that, at the core of it all, your deepest desire was simply to be with him.

the rain soaked through your clothes, each droplet a cold reminder of your solitude, as you sank down onto the porch. hugging your knees to your chest, you leaned your back against the unyielding front door, seeking comfort in its solidity amidst the tempest that raged both outside and within.

tears mingled with the raindrops on your face, indistinguishable in the deluge, as you struggled to stifle your sobs. each breath was a battle, the weight of your sorrow pressing down like the relentless rain, blurring the line between your inner turmoil and the storm around you.

your mind raced with a torrent of memories from happier times, each recollection a bittersweet contrast to the present, intensifying the pain of the argument. the agony grew stronger, like a relentless tide, as the echoes of laughter and love clashed with the harsh reality of discord.

you wished with all your heart that matt would emerge from the shadows, wrap you in his arms, and whisper reassurances that everything would be okay. in that embrace, you longed to find solace, a sanctuary where the storm of emotions would finally subside, leaving only the promise of peace and understanding.

but all you are left with is the cacophony of the rain crashing onto the pavement, each drop a thunderous reminder of his absence, and the echoing thoughts that reverberate through the hollow chambers of your mind.

you had only left because you felt as though his indifference had cast you into the shadows, making you believe you held no significance in the dazzling tapestry of his life.

and watching him run out to you would have mended the fractures in your heart, sealing the fissures with the balm of his presence, but alas, he remained still, leaving those cracks unhealed.

little did you know that he stood just beyond the threshold, separated from you by a mere sliver of space and yet an insurmountable chasm of unspoken words and unfulfilled hopes.

all you’ve ever needed lay just on the other side of the door, concealed within reach yet veiled by the intangible barrier of hesitation and unvoiced desires.

»--•--«

under the cloak of night, matt stood outside your window, the clock striking 3:00 am, as if the very fabric of time conspired to weave an intricate tapestry of suspense and unspoken anticipation.

the rain has ceased, leaving in its wake a profound, quiet stillness that permeates the air, as if the world itself holds its breath in reverent silence, suspended in a moment of tranquil contemplation.

with a trembling hand, he delicately picked up a small pebble and tossed it gently at the window, the soft tap shattering the silence like a whispered secret in the dead of night.

"y/n!" he called out, his voice raw with emotion, each syllable trembling with desperation. "y/n, please come to the window!"

you stirred from your restless sleep, heart pounding as you recognized the voice, each word echoing through the stillness of the night like a haunting melody that refused to be ignored.

you shut your eyes tightly, turning away as you begged for the night to envelop you once more, longing for the embrace of dreams to whisk you away from the waking world.

but another soft tap shattered the fragile silence, compelling you to sit up, your senses heightened and your heart pounding with an unspoken urgency.

you approached the window and peered out, your eyes locking with matt’s desperate gaze, the depth of his anguish reflecting in the moonlit night, creating a silent dialogue of unspoken sorrow and longing.

"i’m so sorry," matt began, his voice cracking under the weight of his remorse. "i messed up. i should’ve been there for you, for us. i let youtube get in the way, and i hurt you. but please, believe me when i say i love you more than anything. you are my world, and i can’t stand the thought of losing you."

tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his heartfelt plea. matt continued, his voice growing stronger with each word. "i know words aren't enough, but i promise to do better. i promise to make you feel loved and cherished every single day. please, give me another chance."

you remained silent, your heart torn between the lingering pain of past wounds and the fragile hope of reconciliation, each beat a testament to the inner turmoil that threatened to overwhelm you.

matt took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. "remember when we first met? how we laughed about the silliest things and stayed up all night talking? i want to go back to that. i want to be the person who makes you smile."

he paused, searching for the right words, his gaze steady yet filled with vulnerability. "i know i've been distant, and i know i've hurt you. but i've realized something important: life without you is empty, a hollow echo of what it could be. i can't change the past, but i can promise you a future filled with love, respect, and understanding. i'll listen more, i'll be there more, and i'll never take you for granted again."

your resolve began to waver, the sincerity in matt's voice piercing through your defenses. "i've been talking to my brothers, trying to understand where i went wrong. i know i have a lot to work on, and i'm willing to do whatever it takes. therapy, couples counseling, anything. i just need you to know that i'm committed to making this work."

matt's eyes were pleading, his heart laid bare in a raw display of vulnerability. "please, y/n. give me a chance to prove that i can be the partner you deserve. i love you more than words can express, and i'm ready to fight for us."

your heart softened at his sincerity, the pain of the argument beginning to fade like mist in the morning sun. you opened the window, letting the cool night air rush in, carrying with it a sense of renewal. "matt," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of hope and apprehension. "come inside."

as matt climbed through the window, you felt a glimmer of hope flicker in the depths of your heart. you embraced, holding each other tightly, as if anchoring yourselves in a storm. both knowing that while the road ahead wouldn't be easy, your love was worth fighting for, a beacon guiding you through the darkness.

[octoberautumnbox]

Discordant Waltz: Juicy Juicy

Oh Sieun (Former IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri) & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, public sex, blood, clothed sex, hair pulling, blowjob, cowgirl, friends with benefits, fuck buddy

Word count: 1.9k

| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |

a/n: i just really wanted to put this out, i think atp I can't write consistently like I used to before all this shit happened. we'll just see how it goes from now on but i swear i still have a bunch of fics i wanna write :))))

bathroom 3rd

sieun fckbd, 2:43 pm

pushy. omw

You, 2:43 pm

The warm, unconditioned air hit you like a brick wall when you first stepped out of the classroom, but with the cool breeze and shade, you really didn't mind any further.

You head for the rendezvous lazily, though it nags at you why she would want to see you during school hours. 

Sieun was leaning against the empty bulletin board between the male and female restrooms when you found her. She was ethereal and fleeting, like a poster from a magazine you weren’t supposed to buy. 

There’s no response from her as you took your careful steps towards her. She looked worried and lost in thought, like something shook her on a deeply personal level. Not that it mattered to you; neither of you were supposed to care about each other in that way.

"Can I help you?" She jumps and stares wide-eyed at you, evidently so surprised that she didn't even see you coming. Apologetically, you push up her chin and force eye contact with her, which pulls her back down to Earth.

"Great," she sighs, relieved, "you're here. Come on!" 

You suddenly find yourself getting dragged by the collar into the women's restroom and shoved into one of the stalls. You're pushed and forced to sit down onto the toilet seat, and your fuckbuddy promptly gets into her own position, straddling you and wrapping her arms around your neck.

This isn't anything new, and by now you know what she's asking for. Place both hands on her ass, feel up her cheeks through the baggy PE pants she loves wearing for some reason. She dives in and captures your lips with hers, and savoring the feeling of your tongues on each other and swapping spit. 

Carelessly you reach under her pants garters and under the waistband of her boxers, fully relishing how her smooth skin and plump ass feels in your hands. She breathes heavily under your touch, and moans spill from her lips with every squeeze. 

"Sorry about the boxers by the way," she whispers, breaking the kiss. "I didn't plan on this." 

You take her lips again, feeling her breath growing less and less stable against yours. "It's fine, baby. You okay?"

She tries to act tough with her retort, but her blushing gives her away. "Less talk, more getting your cock hard enough for me to choke on." 

You estimate a solid minute of making out and groping her ass while she grinds on your clothed dick, making sure she feels you getting harder for her.

Once she's had her fun, she gets up and hurriedly unzips your pants. Meanwhile you work on stripping her of her own pants, yanking off her boxers at the same time. Her wet, pink pussy comes into view, and you place a thumb on her clit to rub while she works hard trying to strip you herself. Noticing she's fumbling and having trouble with your belt, you unbuckle it for her and get up, so she makes quick work of pulling everything off of you. You sit back down onto the toilet and feel the cold ceramic seat on your thighs.

“Thank you. Do you have any other questions?” Sieun asks, but her interest lies elsewhere. She eyes your stiffening cock hungrily while licking her lips. 

Without waiting for an answer, she squats down between your legs and places the tip of her tongue right on the slit of your dick, giving it tiny licks. She allows her saliva to run down from her tongue, watching you watch her start to pleasure you. 

She takes your cock in her hand and starts to jerk you off in long and slow strokes. Her lips hover over your tip, still letting her saliva drip down, and you feel her handjob getting slicker. Between the feeling of her spit coating your cock and the pure visual of her heavenly face in front of you, you grip the toilet seat to try and delay your orgasm just a bit longer.

Satisfied with her work and how your face contorted in pleasure to what she’s doing, Sieun begins her monumental task of taking you into her mouth. She kisses your tip before taking your head between her plump lips. She gives it a little suck before withdrawing, licking her lips, and going back for more. You notice her free right hand working between her legs and tweaking her clit, and just then she moans a small “mmh” onto your head as she goes deeper with her blowjob to half your shaft. 

Unfortunately for her (or perhaps fortunately, you know how sick she is in the head), just half your shaft reaches to the back of her mouth. The sensation of her tongue tracing the veins around your dick sends a shock wave of pleasure up your spine, causing you to reach out and grip a handful of her hair. She looks up at you, expectant and pleading, as you watch her insert two fingers into her dripping pussy. 

Instead of forcing your cock into her throat though, you pull her head away by her hair with a jerk. She gasps at the sudden rough treatment, but displays her submission by panting with her tongue out like a dog. She hasn’t stopped fingering herself, and this lets you know what she wants next. 

Hand still tangled in her hair, you pull her up to your eye level. Take her onto your lap and position your cock onto her wet folds, and earn a groan from her as she relaxes onto you. 

Sieun reaches under her jacket and, you guess, into her bra before pulling out a condom. Seeing you surprised, she smirks at you and rips open the packaging with her teeth.

"You always know how to get me riled up."

She expertly rolls the rubber onto your throbbing cock. She holds your chin up the way you did with her earlier, and she makes you watch as she lets a line of her spit fall from her tongue to her open palm. Finally she rubs it all over your cock, giving it a few pumps while making sure it's lubricated and ready for her.

You grab her by the hips, savoring how her smooth skin feels on your hands, and pull her back onto your cock. She gives in and, carefully but not too much so, she lowers herself onto your dick. She shuts her eyes as you feel yourself sliding into her, first the head, then the shaft, and even more after that, all the while you guide her down by her hips. 

"Never fucking gets old, you stretch me out so well…" Her breathy and quiet voice tells you she's close. She bites her lip and tries to make eye contact with you again. In the split second that you do, you're reminded that Oh Sieun is gorgeous in her own right, and that you're lucky you get to have her like this at all. You admire her big brown eyes, how they shut as she lowers herself onto you, how her lips part as she lets out a deep sigh.

Sieun is dazed; you know she's getting even hornier with you. She's straining herself to keep quiet, knowing that just one mistimed yelp might be all it takes for someone to get curious, check out the bathroom, and catch the two of you red-handed. Despite that, she soldiers on, lifting herself up before letting herself drop again. As she does, you feel her velvet walls clench tighter around you, and you resolve to place your hand over her mouth. Getting the message, she goes for another bounce on your cock, more careful than anything to keep the sound of her skin on yours to a minimum. You hold back yourself, trying to match her control despite the mind-melting pleasure you get from her tight, needy pussy.

You watch as she lifts herself up again. You take a deep breath into your lungs, knowing that you can't hold back much longer: you need her just as much as she needs you. Hands firm on her mouth and hip, her head lolls back as she prepares to take all of you into her again. 

She crashes down onto you like a meteor, sending waves of pleasure throughout both your bodies. With your common sense leaving you, you thrust up into her, reaching a depth she's never experienced in this life until now. She jerks her head in surprise to face you, and almost immediately her eyes point up and then roll to the back of her head. She groans against your palm before developing into a full-blown scream you both were lucky to have muffled. Her cunt squeezes your throbbing cock as it convulses through her orgasm, squirting her cum all over your crotch and waist. 

Don't relent, she loves it when you don't. You thrust up into her again, forcing more of your cock into her heat and vying for your own release. Sieun struggles to scream louder into your hand as she loses her mind to the pleasure.

You thrust harder up into her, matching how tight she's clamping down on you. Inadvertently she makes up for it with how much of her love juice is spraying onto your crotch and lap. Snake a hand across her back and onto her shoulder, and with your other hand on her mouth, pull her down.

Her teeth find your palm an easy target, biting down and drawing blood. She could do nothing else, completely victim to the immense orgasm you were subjecting her to. Fight down your pain; just a bit more. 

It arrives when you least expect it to, and you're sure deep down inside whatever's left of Sieun is thanking whatever god she believes in that you're about to let her go. Your dick throbs with each spurt of cum you shoot into the rubber, unintentionally also hitting her good spots even more. She leaks more and more of her juices onto your lap, and as you look up you find she's also started to cry. You almost feel sorry for her, if not for how unbelievably and blissfully elated she seems to be getting fucked out of her mind. Your blood shows itself, from your palm and dripping onto Sieun's jacket. 

Both your climaxes end gradually, bringing you down from the highest of highs. Your arms fall exhaustedly to your sides and you lose all feeling in them. Sieun collapses face down on top of you, limp and out of breath, but still finds the tiniest bit of strength to nuzzle into your neck. Extend your last greatest effort, swing your arm over the small of her back and hug her. 

“You good?” Your tone is casual, like she didn't just have the orgasm of her life. She weakly nods into your neck and puts a kiss right on your pulse.

~~~

You find yourself walking back to the classroom, unaware of how much time has passed. The sun hides behind a fair bit of cloud cover, and the breeze seems nippier than you remember. 

Sieun is long gone, off to wherever she was before. Hopefully, nobody notices her limp, nor the red stain on her jacket. Above all, you hope nobody questions the hand mark over her mouth. 

But deep inside, you kind of do. She wouldn't be able to say it, but she'll know it's because she gave herself to a man that makes her feel complete.

~~~

| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |

a/n: this was something i wanted to write for a long time, im really glad i got to do something like this now :) thanks for reading!

[arc-misadventures]

A little context before we begin:

On the RWBY Discord I am a part of (No links) we once again went off on a tangent on how we collectively agree that being in a relationship with, Cannon Blake would be considered a pain because of her past exploits. And why, Fannon Blake is the superior, Blake!

Then a user asked what if, Blake had, Kali's personality.

Then I asked: 'What if they swapped places, and Kali was the, 'B' in Team RWBY instead of, Blake. And, what if, Blake was Kali's mom?'

Others agreed that, that would work, and that she wouldn't have dated, Adam in this AU. Because we don't like, Adam.

He was a sad waste of potential.

When I simply asked the question: "But, what if she married, Adam in this AU?'

And, the response to my question was a simple: "Go on."

Well, here is where I went:

///

RWKY

Kali: I actually don't know who my biological father is.

Jaune: You don't?

Kali: No, I'm a cat faunas, and my mom is a cat faunas. But, Adam, that's my 'stepfather,' he's a cow faunas. If he really was may father, I'd be a... Well, I don't know what kind of faunas I'd be. So, I know he's certainly not my bio-dad. Whoever they are, or were... they have to be a cat, since I'm a cat, and my mom is a cat. So it makes me wonder… Am I the result of a drunken one night stand, and my mother married, Adam to cover it up, or did, Adam, and my mother kill my real father, and covered it up!

Jaune: You think your mom may have killed your real dad?!

Kali: You'd believe it too if you met my mom.

Jaune: That's not a comforting thought. But, could he have been human?

Kali: A human? I never thought of that.

Jaune: And, what if the reason your mom hates humans is because he ran away when he found out she was pregnant with you! O-Or, what if; the reason you never knew your father is because, Adam killed him after he knocked your mom up! Or, what if they know who your father actually is, and they can't say who it is because it would be such a huge scandal if the truth came out!

Jaune: (GASP!)

Jaune: What if you are the secret love child of, Blake Belladonna, and Jacques Schnee, and you're actually, Weiss's long lost half sister?!!!

Kali: (GASP!)

Weiss: (GASP!)

Kali: HRKK?!

Weiss: HRK?!

WK: BLAAAAARGHHH!!!

Jaune: Oh gods…

Kali: Oh gods! I didn't throw up because of you, Weiss! I'm totally okay with you as my little sister!

Weiss: Same her!

Kali: It's just… the thought of, my mom sleeping with him... it's just so disgusting!

Weiss: I get that! I find the thought of him sleeping with my mom to be just as disgusting too!

Jaune: Uhhh... You guys, okay?

Kali: I'm fine.

Weiss: Me too, the idea was just... so out of left field! It caught me completely off guard.

Kali: Good thing it's not real, cause that would be... disturbing.

Weiss: Good thing it's just a mad conspiracy theory!

Kali: It's total speculation!

Weiss: A throw away comment!

Kali: Just ones of those thoughts!

Weiss: Totally irrelevant!

Kali: Haa…

Weiss: Haha…

Jaune: …

Jaune: You two totally want to get a DNA test now, don't you?

Weiss: Absolutely!

Kali: Let's go!

[lazyneonrabbitt]

The beast of Mordor

Adar x reader | SMUT🔞

Mordor has monsters, and no one was stupid enough to cross its borders, right?

What can I say, the discord said Beauty and the Beast and it kinda went unhinged from there on.

The woods were unsafe ever since the mountain spewed fire and darkened the sky. Never in your long life had you seen a land so gray.

You knew it to be the middle of the day as you left at first light in your own lands not too far off the reclaimed lands now named Mordor.

The woods were unsafe but you would never travel around its vast area only to fetch products on the other side where your merchant friend had settled.

With sword and dagger you traveled light, on foot as horses were too loud and would alert the monsters hiding in the shadows. Nocturnal beasts, deformed and bloodthirsty. Or, at least that's what the stories said. No one had ever met a beast and lived.

Deep in thought your calculated steps faltered and something snapped under your foot, the sound ringing out throughout the forest.

You froze at the noise, dagger up in defense as you took in your surroundings.

Nothing.

It looked like you were truly alone in the area and took up your pace, moving on to be out of the woods as quick as possible.

You had been walking nonstop ever since you broke the branch, the panic never really leaving causing you to forget to keep track of your directions.

You had no idea where you were.

You were lost in cursed lands with no way of backtracking or seeking out the sun to figure out your location.

Fear rose in your chest, its grasp constricting your airways as a soft faltering gasp left your lips and tears started brimming your eyes. In all your ages you had never felt fear like this.

Until a noise caught your ears.

It was everywhere around you. A low rumbling sound. Gutteral and deep, raising the hairs in your neck as you drew sword and dagger in defense once more.

The sound worsened before it died down, being followed by a voice speaking in an unknown tongue, distorted by evil itself.

Fear crept so far inside you you hadn't even noticed the fog had thickened in these parts of the woods. No matter where you looked, all around you were tones of gray. Ashen lands shrouded in a thick fog that forced itself into your lungs with each breath.

"Intruder."

The voice centered behind you all of a sudden and you ran. Your legs carrying you through the dark lands but to no avail. A heavy weight settled against your back and threw you to the ground and you were forced onto your back.

You waited for the pain that would end it all, eyes shut and body rigid but nothing ever came.

As you ever so slowly dared to open your eyes your surroundings became clearer again, as if the fog had dispersed around you.

You allowed yourself to sit up and try to assess the situation. To find whatever it was that attacked you but again you found yourself alone. In a clearing this time.

No plants grew in this soil beneath you. Only deep clawmarks broke the otherwise even ground. The trees surrounding you bore the same marks, giving the area an even more eery look.

You had to run.

Shifting your weight to get up, you were suddenly back on the ground. The impact had you again shut your eyes in panic and knocked the air from your lungs and none dared to enter as a weight pressed down, denying you of a much needed intake of breath.

"Open."

Something touched your brow and pulled it upward, forcing you to open your eyes and stare at the being now standing over you.

It sat on its haunches towering over you, a blackened arm outstretched to your head.

You now understood why no one dared to venture into Mordor.

"Elleth."

Your brows furrowed at the creature's speech.

"Sindarin?" The word left your lips before your head caught up with it. He just called you an elven woman in your own tongue. What was this thing?

In return the pressure on your chest increased and a huff of warm, rotten breath fanned your face as the beast crowded over you even further.

You wanted to close your eyes again, turn your head away as the beast crushed your chest but instead of doing so it moved its claw off your chest and held your jaw, prying open your mouth and moving your head to its will.

You had no option but to take it all in. From the long black hair that hung in thick strands framing its face, scarred and torn scales adorning its cheeks, up to its temples where the skin blended into thick horns that curled up and forward like a crown. Deep black eyes held cold blue irises, dark circles under it contrasting its otherwise pale skin.

The beast felt your breaths evening out and let out a noise akin to a breathy laugh, showing a maw full of sharp teeth, its tongue darting out to graze past its fangs.

Its jaws opened then, lunging forward at your head.

Without thinking you blocked, hands grabbing onto the protruding horns and taking its ears along with them earning a rumbling noise as it stopped immediately. You pulled your hands back and laid them flat on the ground beside your head, palms up. The creatures ears swished as its head shook, looking you dead in the eye and letting out a roar inches away from your face.

You watched the pitch black arm raise, claws gleaming and a torn wing twitching at its shoulder.

This was it.

The claw swiped down and tore fabric and flesh, leaving only shallow cuts that earned the beast a whimper.

The cold air came in contact with your skin, your body reacting in the worst way as you laid exposed underneafh the large monstrous being.

Once more its maw opened but instead of lunging at your head its tongue found your chest, curling it around a perked nipple with eager energy.

Your breath hitched as you tried your hardest not to let the beast hear a noise out of you, not a peep as its tongue violated your chest and its clawed hand traveled south, dragging the rough pads of its fingers across your stomach and shredding any fabric left in its way to where it wished to be.

Where your mouth kept quiet your body betrayed you as the beast moved its head south and inhaled once, twice, taking in your scent and letting out a clicking growl before shoving its face between your thighs.

"H..ahh stop it!" Your hands flew out to grab its horns again but instead of stopping like it did before it only let out a vibrating humm against your core, worsening your situation even further.

You pushed at its head with all your might but it easily overpowered you, especially now with your strength leaving your body as you neared a most unwanted orgasm. It did not help that the creature felt the need to shove its entire tongue down your entrance and swirl it in exploration. Its fangs grazed your skin and it continued humming and growling, adding even more sensation to the already overwhelming assault. You begged it to stop, whines now flowing freely from you as you tried to squirm out of its grasp but it only pulled away after your walls clenched as you came.

You couldn't even register your hands still rested on the beast's horns until it moved back up your body, nuzzling at your tears and wiping a combination of drool and your slick across your cheek.

With a claw on your hip to move you around the creature shuffled until it had your legs on each side of its waist.

"N..no. No no please no!" You knew it wouldn't work yet you still tried to pry yourself from its grasp.

"No, Adar." The beast tilted its head, moving closer to your face. With raised brows its ear perked. "Speak." It snarled.

"No, Adar.. Please."

You felt the beast's length twitch at the call of what you assumed to be his name.

"Yes, elleth."

With your hips still held in one massive clawed hand he rose to his upper body to full height, staring you down as if you were his next meal. Cracking sounded as his wings unfurled behind his back and framed his already impressive being.

The scars that ran across Adar's face extended down his chest and along his absomen. Thick raised lines ran in a pattern down his body and along his arms, one of them being much worse for wear with the shoulder slumped and the wing hanging down against the ground. There was no way he could still fly with those things.

Still he looked as threatening as he could be.

It was an impossible task to remove your gaze from him. Your gaze that slowly traveled lower to where your hips laid against his and his large member rested between your folds.

It was as black as his scaled flesh, ridges over its entire impressive length and already leaking for you.

Fear crept back over you after your moment of distraction. He wouldn't. ..would he?

You watched and compared. "Y.. you won't fit. I'll tear!" You were back to squirming and trying to reason with the monster but he took none of it into consideration, yoir fear only adding fuel to his already raging fire.

"Still, Elleth." Even as you willed all your strength to shove your hands between your thighs to cover yourself you failed as you were easily maneuvered back into a position he preffered, now with the head of his cock pressed against your entrance. Its girth already stretched your lips past anything you ever had inside and with the addition of each ridge, one, two, tree the pain turned into something else. Fear ebbed away and made place for something far more dangerous.

Thr large, monstrous cock inside of you started to feel.. good.

Adar could feel your change and let go of all restraint, rutting into you with a purpose and pulling the most delicious sounds from you until he pulled you over the edge once more.

You cried out in pleasure, walls squeezing around his cock but his pace did not falter.

"Ahh--Adar slow.." your hand grasped at your stomach where with each thrust you felt him move inside of you through your skin. The sharp bones of his hips slammed against the back of your thighs at a rough pace. You were going to be bruised inside and out once he was finished with you.

Adar's face came back down to mouth at your chest as he fucked into you, soft grunts and growls informing you he felt pleasure as well. His entire being enveloped you, his touch everywhere overhwelming you easily. So much you didn't notice the hand moving between the two if you or stutter in his hips, just the soft roar that acompanied it as he spilled his load deep inside of you without stopping.

You felt warm, safe even with this beast hunched over you. The valar would abandon you for falling into this darkness that this beast led you into. That Adar led you into.

Adar's teeth were at your throat, his claws raking thin lines over your torso as he lost himself in the moment. His noises became more prominent the second your hands found his ears. Rubbing at the very tips of them pulled sweet purrs from his throat.

In return his hand snaked its way down your stomach, resting right above where he entered you and rubbed to find your clit, ever so careful not to nick you with his claws.

At his first touch you cried out his name, giving his ears a harsh tug making him fuck into you even harder, feeling the swell at the base of his cock press firmly against your entrance.

His fingers pressed harder and you tugged, he deepened his thrusts until you felt the thick knot slip past your lips and he stilled suddenly with a choked roar. The stretch of his swollen base pulled another orgasm from you, your body giving up entirely and slumping down barely able to catch your breath.

Adar's arms wrapped around your small frame and he let himself fall onto his back, keeping you on top of him as he waited for his knot to deflate.

"Ow."

Your simple outing of discomfort had Adar chuckle, murmuring an apology as he stroked your back.

Tattered clothes still hung off your limbs as your mind wandered. You had to find new clothes somehow. Were you going to see your friend after all and explain all of this? Would you lie? You trusted her enough to keep your secrets, and even if you came up with an excuse she'd give you nee clothes regardless.

"Loud.." your beaat beneath you spoke, no doubt refering to your racing mind.

Adar let you go, to see your friend and return home after. He assured you safe passage through his lands and marked trees so you'd find your way. He was kind in a way.

Home was less kind.

They interrogated you immediately on arrival. You weapons and gear were gone and you showed up in another region's garments. Besides you reeked of filth and acts unspeakable for an elf of your rank to smell of in public.

You were scolded and sent away but day after day the stares and complaints never left. No matter how much you scrubbed your skin or used every scented item in your possession and that of the merchant the smell would not leave your body.

You isolated yourself after a while. It had to be at least one moon's phase when a sudden realisation came to you in the middle of the night.

Without a second thought you took your most important belongings and left once more for the dark lands of Mordor.

"Adar?" You called out from the path he had carved for you, following it in hopes he would dwell near it.

"Adar? It's me, Elleth." Your name was still unknown to him, so you tried the name he called you before.

"..Elleth?" The name echoed back all around you, but this time it did not strike fear into you.

"Elleth." It echoed once more, now from just one single direction and you stepped towards it with excitement you never thought you had in you.

Before you in the thick greenery your beast sat, clearly just woken up by your calls. "You return." He did not expect you to.

"They care for me no longer. I smell of you no matter how long I scrub myself clean." Your tone was sad and your arms curled around yourself in what almost looked like shame.

"It's like the smell comes from inside of me." You let yourself slump to the ground at his side, legs crossed under you and fave hidden from his view. "I didn't even realize until tonight.."

Adar kept his gaze on you, letting you speak your needed words before he'd act.

"I haven't bled since then."

In a sudden flurry of moves you were once more on your back pinned to the forest floor. Only now you were being aggressively sniffed at, Adar's purrs almost being drowned out by it.

Once he was done he sat back on his haunches in front of you, his eyes closed i concentration. You watched him with curious eyes as you sat up as well, taking in his form that changed right before your eyes.

The sound of cracking bones accompanied the grimace on his face as his wings disappeared from behind him and his whole self took a more approachable form.

His animalistic legs kept their shape and scales, as did patches on his shoulders and temples. His claws were no longer the size of your entire fingers and his eyes now resembled those of a normal being. The horned crown stayed in place, albeit now smaller along with his ears too.

"I assume you'd prefer this form, as a fair elven lady." His voice caught you off guard with how gorgeous it sounded, deep and inviting.

"For now this is fine." You smiled up at his now less beastly form. "It's nice to be able to talk to you like this, it's difficult for you when you're big."

With a nod to agree Adar stood and offered you a hand, using his other to take the bag from you and sling it over his shoulder. As he turned you could see the scarring on his back, the black scaled skin running along just his shoulderblades where scarred stumps sat with thin red lines going down to his waist.

"Come." He called from a few steps away. "We have a village. My children would love to meet their new mother."

"And their new sibling as well, soon."

[hitoshitoshi]

The Fish That Bind [Rafayel x Reader]

Summary: How art captures a soul | How art betrayed Rafayel for the first time. Tags: Angst, Past Life Memories, Soulmates but not really, Abysswalker Rafayel myth lore.

Your highness took up art as a way to pass the time, but no matter how many muses you try to find, no matter how things you try to draw; people; animals; skies; plants— you always find yourself drawing the same fish. It's baffling, really—why that fish? The details of the fish always elude you though, it was like trying to remember a dream that was slipping away from you as you wake, but something about it tugged at your soul. You can't remember why, but every stroke felt familiar, like a lost memory that once meant everything to you. It was Rafayel's fish; the one he created with his Evol to follow you around. Though you could barely make out its silhouette in your mind, not even remembering why it was in your mind, it was the only thing that made your heart flutter—the only thing that kept you tethered to this thing—this feeling in your entire being that feels empty yet full when you draw that fish.

Your highness seeked out the finest artisans, mastering every technique they could offer, mastering everything yet your hand always returns to drawing that damned fish the way you only knew how to draw that fish. It was as if your very soul was guiding you, reaching out for something it refuses to forget even when your mind has already done so.

And then, in another life, you found yourself painting alongside Rafayel. He glanced at your canvas, and at that moment his heart shattered and soared all at once. The fish you've drawn was the same awkward, ugly, and pathetic fish your highness once sketched for him on the first birthday you spent with him in Lemuria—the horrible representation of his beloved Evol fish, yet in his eyes was a masterpiece—was in front of him once again.

But now, Rafayel stood there frozen, torn at the sight. His heart ached with a longing so deep it nearly broke him, because he knows—he knows it's you. The same soul he loved so desperately centuries ago. But you're not his highness. You're just his bodyguard, you're not his beloved bride from 800 years ago. How could he burden you with the weight of a love that spanned lifetimes? How can he dare to love you when he's no longer your beloved husband? How can he dare love you when you're—you're not—he couldn't even explain it himself in words if he tried to, how could he? But he could explain it with art. Though he’s forgotten much about Lemuria—the shimmering seas, the vibrant culture, the ancient language—one thing remains clear: Rafayel’s soul’s language was art.

But there was one minute detail that pulled Rafayel back to reality. The fish that you drew had a subtle difference—a detail that only his highness would remember. A heart right beside the fish's head—it was absent. That one detail changed everything. Your sketch was no longer a sketch of his fish but of a fish. His highness would always draw a heart beside the shaky lines and the uneven scales, but his bodyguard didn't. It was moments like this where Rafayel wished that an anchor was tied to him, keeping him confided to the sea—his home—but no. This anchoring feeling was one of dread and hopelessness. His connection to Lemuria, to the life he once knew; his tie his highness, no longer being there. Rafayel truly lost everything and was stuck at the bottom of an empty sea with no one to hear out his silent pleas.

A/N: I hope you had a reel-y good time. Get it? Reel? As in reel in a fish? Either way, it was inspired by the newest event that's about to release.

If you like otome games, including Love and Deepspace, you should join Linkon Lounge! A discord server that's LGBTQ+ friendly (only serving those who are 18+) where we all can share our interests, talk to roleplaying bots (Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, and Sylus), and have fun game, movie, and stream nights where we stream games and/or cards that we pulled that others want to see. It would be super fun to have you as a member of our server.

Click here to join Linkon Lounge!

Masterlist

[mononijikayu]

night we met — ryomen sukuna.

Feeling the gravity of this moment, he tightened his grip on your hand. You looked down at him and smiled—a gesture that sealed his newfound faith in this bond. At that moment, Ryomen Sukuna felt as though he had been reborn. No longer just a boy lost in the festival's chaos, but a person with a role, a duty, and a place in the world. His life, from that moment forward, was to be lived for you, in devotion to the path you would guide him on. You had become his guardian, his mentor—his goddess—and he, in turn, devoted himself to be your loyal follower.

GENRE: Heian Era to Shibuya Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Harm, Depiction of Blood and Wounds, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Portrayal of Misogynist And Degrading Acts and Language;

masterlist

ashes of love

listen: the night we met by lord huron

note: i finally got a break after two exams. i still have one more. but i wanted to pop in and give this to you before i disappear into my books again. i hope you enjoy this little thing~ i love you~

FATHER THOUGHT THAT THERE WOULD BE MORE NEED FOR RETAINERS TO COME WITH THEM. As they navigated the bustling streets of the city, Ryomen Hiromi couldn't shake off a palpable sense of tension, despite the festive atmosphere. The warm glow of lanterns illuminated the cobblestone paths, and the air was filled with lively chatter and laughter. Yet, an underlying unease lingered—perhaps a whisper from the gods, you mused, familiar with the capricious nature of the divine. Your lips tightened into a straight line, your hand unconsciously drifting to the hilt of your sword. Beneath the surface festivity, an undercurrent of anxiety was palpable.

This might explain why your father had insisted on bringing as many men as possible. The Ryomen family was never short of loyal retainers, and Masaomi had been eager to accompany you. Your father's protective instincts weighed heavily on you, his warnings echoing in your mind. As the sole remaining heir of your distinguished family, his concerns were magnified by the elders’ incessant uproar. Though you understood the necessity of your high profile, it sometimes felt stifling.

As you continued through the lively streets, the festival's atmosphere was electrifying. Lanterns hung from every post, casting dancing lights over the faces of the revelers, each absorbed in their own joyous celebration. The air was thick with the scents of street food and a cacophony of laughter and music, creating a chaotic symphony. Yet, despite the jovial chaos, a tug of unease pulled at your consciousness.

You maintained an even pace and a neutral expression, blending seamlessly into the crowd. The presence of your uncle Hiramu was reassuring; his experienced hand rested nonchalantly on his sword, his eyes scanning the crowd with practiced vigilance. His readiness to protect offered comfort and a reminder of the ever-present potential for danger.

Ryomen Hiromi experienced the weight of the festival differently. While others were drawn into the spirit of celebration, your senses were heightened, alert to any discord. The subtle narrowing of your eyes and the stiffness in your shoulders might go unnoticed by an ordinary onlooker, but they were clear indicators of your tension. The flickering shadows cast by the lantern lights seemed to hide potential threats, and every burst of laughter could be masking whispered conspiracies.

You knew you couldn't afford to let down your guard, not when the stakes were so high. This mission was critical, especially to you, marking a step towards your heir’s role, and the weight of this responsibility was heavy on your shoulders. The festival, with its mask of tradition and celebration, might well be a veneer for more sinister undertones.

Navigating through this sea of faces, your gaze occasionally met those of strangers, your deep hazel eyes searching for any hint of recognition or malice. Being with your uncle Hiramu brought some peace, tempering the anxiety that gnawed at your heart, but the persistent unease remained. Something was amiss, and you could not yet pinpoint it. Your instincts screamed for attention, urging vigilance as the night promised to stretch long.

Reports of strange occurrences and unexplained events had been increasing, stirring unrest among the populace and reaching the ears of Lord Isamu. Typically, such critical missions would fall to your elder brother, Akimu, the designated heir tasked with maintaining the safety and stability of Hida's heartland in your father's stead. But now, with Akimu unable to lead, the weight of responsibility had shifted onto your capable yet burdened shoulders.

Each step felt heavy under the scrutinizing gaze of the moon, illuminating the bustling night with a mocking smile. You took a moment to gather your scattered thoughts, steadying the swirling emotions within. As you lifted your gaze, your eyes began to sharpen, honing in on the play of shadows cast by the lantern light, looking beyond the immediate spectacle to the hidden corners and fleeting movements that might betray underlying threats.

This mission was about more than following in Akimu's footsteps; it was about proving that Ryomen Hiromi could stand firm on uneven, unfamiliar ground. You were determined to command respect, to show that despite your gender, you were every bit the Ryomen heir as any man could be.

As you moved away from the main festivities into quieter, dimly lit parts of the town, Uncle Hiramu finally spoke, his voice low and serious, “Little niece, do you sense it too? There’s a heaviness in the air tonight. It must be what your father was speaking of.”

You nodded, your sharp gaze scanning the shadows. “Yes, I feel it. It's as if the air itself is thick with whispers of the past. There’s a disturbance, not just a vengeful spirit, I think. Something older, deeper.”

Hiramu’s eyes narrowed as he looked ahead. “We should be cautious. These kinds of spirits are often bound to old grudges or unresolved tragedies. The festival’s energy could stir it more than usual.”

You turned into a less crowded alley, where the noise of the festival faded into a distant hum. Your elegant robes brushed against the cobblestones, your attire blending traditional beauty with practicality. The layered silk of your fine kimono was dyed in deep blues and purples, embroidered with silver threads that caught the light, mimicking the night sky. Your obi was tightly cinched, supporting the small dagger hidden within—a necessity for any noble venturing into uncertain situations.

Your father insisted that you dress appropriately. It was outlandish, you supposed. The choices were far too simple for taste, unsuitable for any young beauty of such noble stock. But this was as comfortable as it was safe. Pretense of trade being your desire here in these parts, was much easier than to be quite obvious. Anything more than this would have attracted as much attention as retainers.

“Do you think it’s tied to a particular location or event?” you asked, your voice steady despite the creeping chill that seemed to cling to the edges of the night air. “It’s getting me curious…”

“It could be,” Hiramu replied, his hand never straying far from his sword. “These spiteful little cursed spirits often attach themselves to physical locations where significant emotional events occurred. We’ll need to explore the some sites around here—old battlefields, abandoned shrines, places of great loss or betrayal. Someone is deeply angry, little niece."

Your mind raced, piecing together knowledge with the clues of your current environment. “There’s an old well not far from here, sealed up after a great tragedy struck a hundred years ago during a similar festival. A fire had broken out, and many lives were lost. It was said that the well was cursed thereafter.”

Hiramu’s gaze sharpened, his lips just as sharp when he smiled. “That’s a good place to start. Lead the way, little niece.”

IT HAD TAKEN SOME TIME TO FIND THE CURSED SPIRIT. As the moon ascended, bathing the lively festival in its serene, silver luminescence, you and Uncle Hiramu pressed on with your diligent investigation. The festive air, alive with the thrum of activity and the laughter of revelers, contrasted sharply with your growing tension. Underneath the celestial glow, the reality of your mission slowly began to crystallize, taking on a new urgency as unexpected developments unfolded. It had begun with something ever so simple and from there, unpredictable fate intervened and soon enough, the chaos ensued.

The moment of realization struck you with unsettling suddenness. You patted down the side. There was nothing but panic as you looked to the side of the obi and found nothing. One look was enough to confirm that eager suspicion: the coin purse was missing. You looked up towards Uncle Hiramu. You knew that he was trying not to laugh, but his eyes were too obvious. You smacked your uncle which prompted the laugh to bellow from his belly. All you could do was mope in the silence. You supposed that it was alright. Money was not a big deal. But… your eyes widened.

Without hesitating, your eyes swept across the sea of faces swirling around you. The atmosphere was charged with the festival’s energy, yet your focus was razor-sharp. It was then that you had spotted a distinct splash of color that stood out against the earthy tones of the crowd—a young boy with striking pink hair, weaving through the crowd with the agility and desperation of someone fleeing. You looked at Hiramu, and he nodded back at you.

It was then where your instincts kicked in. You tapped your uncle's arm and started mouthing instructions as subtly as one could towards the fleeing figure. Without needing further explanation, Hiramu caught the urgency and nodded. Hiramu took the other direction as you turned to the other.

As you navigated through the dense crowd, the distance between you and the boy closed gradually, you were certain of it. You could sense Hiramu’s cursed energy with each step below against the wide battered ground. You were certain that you were ever so close to bringing a close to the night. But first, you must unravel the night's mysteries. That boy was the key.

Ryomen Hiramu wasted no time as he dashed from stall to stall, street to street. He could feel it, he could feel it too well. That overwhelming power. His seasoned body kicked into high gear, and he swiftly maneuvered through the crowd, his eyes fixed on the pink-haired boy darting through the festival, speeding through the brunt of human bodies. Hiramu cursed under his breath. The child was too clever. With each step, Hiramu's determination as he ran through a corridor of small houses clamped together—one of the poorest sects of life in the quaint area.

As he closed the gap between them, Hiramu noticed an unusual, dark shimmer around the boy—an ominous aura that seemed almost palpable in the moonlit night. This was no mere act of theft; it was clear there was something far more sinister at play. The aura surrounding the boy twisted and writhed like a living thing, a visual manifestation of deep-seated emotional turmoil. It became apparent that this child was not acting alone; he was bound to a cursed spirit, a malevolent force likely fueled by intense feelings of anger, fear, and loneliness.

The realization struck Hiramu with a harsh chill. The spirit's presence suggested that the boy's actions were not entirely his own, that he was under the influence of these dark energies that fed on negative emotions. Such spirits were known to attach themselves to vulnerable souls, magnifying their darkest thoughts and driving them to act in ways they might not otherwise, turning their inner turmoil into outward chaos. Just as he drew his sword, you turned from the corner. Ryomen Hiromi threw that heavy bound haori away, looking at Hiramu.

“Shibaru One! Binding Fate!” you exclaimed, your voice clear and commanding as streaks of luminous energy surged towards the boy. He let out a sharp cry, writhing against the ethereal chains that now ensnared him under your control.

“Be careful!” Hiramu cautioned, moving closer to assist. “He's the source, he's entwined with that cursed spirit!”

You nodded, your focus undeterred by the boy's struggles as you tightened your grip on the energy that bound him. The spectral chains glowed brighter, each pulse of light strengthening the hold over the chaotic spirit within him. Your uncle's warning echoed in your mind, reinforcing your burning resolve to act with both precision and caution.

The boy’s eyes, wide with a mixture of fear and confusion, met yours. You could see the turmoil swirling within him, the innocent caught in the grip of something far beyond his control. “Hold on, just a little longer,” you murmured, your voice a blend of firmness and reassurance intended to pierce through the haze of his panic. A faint smile blossomed from your lips. “Trust me, okay?”

Hiramu understood the gravity of the situation—they were dealing with a phenomenon that was both a danger to the boy and to all those attending the festival. The cursed spirit needed to be dealt with delicately and decisively, for the safety of the boy and the peace of the community. There were too many people here that would not understand what was going on.

There was no need to make a bigger ruckus. With this understanding, Ryomen Hiramu pressed on, his resolve hardened, knowing that he and you must act swiftly to intervene and dispel the darkness that had taken hold of the young boy.

As Hiramu closed in, the cursed spirit sensed the threat and began to lash out, manifesting as tendrils of dark energy. You, realizing the severity of the situation, knew immediate action was required. "Start the purification ritual!" Hiramu shouted over his shoulder as he dodged a swipe from the spirit. "I'll hold it off! Just go and do your job!”

You crossed the tips of your fingers, your eyes narrowing deeper into the soul of the boy. You began to chant softly, the words of an ancient purification rite falling rhythmically from your lips. The boy looked frightened by all means, as the white light did what it could, purging one dark fabric from the boy one after the other.

The air around you seemed to hum with power as your words wove through the currents of energy emanating from your firm hands. The glowing chains tightened further, and the dark aura around the boy began to dissipate, sucked away into the void created by your spell. But as with all things, it tried to keep alive.

Meanwhile, Hiramu engaged the spirit, his sword movements precise, each strike intended not to harm the boy but to distract the spirit and weaken its hold. The sound of the boy’s screams pierced through over and over again, the cursed spirit overlaying against each agonizing echo. He could see the ritual's glow intensifying, the light beginning to engulf the boy, binding and suppressing the dark energy around him.

As the ritual reached its climax, your voice rose in a powerful cadence, your tender hands outstretched towards the boy, directing the flow of purified energy. The cursed spirit writhed and howled and fought over and over, its form becoming unstable under the ritual’s influence. Sweat permeated through your sleeves, your teeth gritted, your eyes narrowed, over and over the ringing of each of your ears continued as the boy continued to fight for his life.

With a final, desperate cry, the cursed spirit dissipated, expelled in one painful grip. All of a sudden, your white cursed energy also disappeared. You gasped out loud as your shaking knees fell to the ground, weary from it all. It was the first time you had used that purification technique. But it seemed that it had finally worked. You looked at the empty depth of your palm.

Your eyes shined. You had done that. Hiramu looked at you, rushing towards you. But you stopped him, coughing as you regained air. You pointed to the boy, sprawled on the pavement. Hiramu sheathed his sword back. Soon enough, Hiramu could only lift the boy in his arms.

The boy, now freed from the spirit’s grasp, collapsed, exhausted but unharmed. He was perhaps trying to catch his breath. He must have been exhausted. You, having returned to the plane of reality, rushed to his side, your own energy spent. You were certain that there was no bigger word than relief as you eagerly confirmed that he was safe. His eyes were both soft and weary as he looked at that boy. He lifted his head at you.

Hiramu's eyes remained narrowed, the wrinkles at the corners deepening as he surveyed the scene before him. Despite the successful expulsion of the spirit, his instincts told him there was more to uncover. His voice, barely above a whisper, carried a weight that drew your attention immediately. "Something is still not right," he said, his tone heavy with unease.

You nodded, understanding the depth of your uncle's concern. You gently placed your palm on the boy's forehead, feeling the residual heat of the ritual. "He's warm, uncle," you observed as your voice echoed tinged with worry.

"Purification techniques are painful to the body," Hiramu responded, his voice a low hum, soothing yet solemn. "It’s purging the worst of the soul, after all. Still, it must be said. You did well, little niece."

The corners of your mouth twitched into a slight smile, a rare break in your usually stern demeanor. "Such praise is rare, uncle."

Hiramu let out a soft snicker, his usual stern facade momentarily giving way to familial warmth. "I compliment you all the time," he claimed, though his smile betrayed the playfulness of his exaggeration.

"That sounds like a lie, uncle," you retorted, your weary eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and affection.

"Yeah, yeah," Hiramu dismissed playfully, but his attention quickly returned to the matter at hand as the boy began to stir. You blinked, taken aback by the sudden movement. You had been so focused on your exchange that the boy's awakening caught you momentarily off guard.

"What do you intend to do with this boy, niece?" Hiramu asked, his tone shifting back to the gravity of your situation. His question hung in the air, pressing you for a decision, reminding you of your responsibilities. “You’re the only one who can decide the lad’s fate.”

“Uncle—”

“You are my better, even if I am your elder and uncle.” Hiramu added, watching you become flustered as he watched the young lady shift in her position. “What do you think is right?”

You took a deep breath, your gaze shifting from Hiramu to the boy who was slowly regaining consciousness. You could see the confusion and fear flicker across his young face as he came to grips with his surroundings. He seemed disoriented, his eyes darting around, trying to make sense of what had happened to him.

Your voice rang out with a firm resolve, words carrying an air of unwavering determination. You met the older man’s gaze with a steady intensity, your expression betraying no hint of doubt. 

"We'll bring him back with us to the manor," you declared, leaving no room for argument. "I'll send word ahead to let them know."

Hiramu's response was laced with a sense of foreboding. "They won't like this," he cautioned, his words heavy with the weight of tradition and expectation. You understood exactly what he meant—the elders, with their adherence to protocol and rigid adherence to tradition, were unlikely to approve of your deviation from established norms. But your determination remained unshaken.

"That is a matter I will handle myself, uncle," you asserted, your voice steady and resolute. You were acutely aware of the potential consequences of defying the elders, but your concern for the boy's well-being outweighed any fear of reprisal. "Do not worry."

Hiramu sighed, a reluctant acknowledgment of your determination. Despite his reservations, he knew better than to stand in your way when your stubborn mind was set to its desires. 

"Very well," he conceded, his voice tinged with resignation. At that moment, he placed his trust in your judgment, knowing that you would do whatever was necessary to ensure the young boy’s safety and well-being, even if it meant challenging the traditions of your elders. “What else?”

“We might stay a day longer, to make sure that this is the only concern.” You retorted back to him, pursing your lips together in a tight line. “I shall head off and see to it that barriers are strengthened. There need not be any more situations like this one.”

“Very well. I’ll go ahead and take him to our inn.”

“Make sure he’s well fed, uncle. And that he’s alright.” 

Hiramu snickers. “You act as though I didn’t take care of you or your brother.”

"I’ll check on him when I return. We need to ensure he's truly free of any residual curse," you said tenderly towards the older man.. "We also need to understand who he is. How did he get here at all, past the barriers. And how did he get this powerful. This puzzle requires quite a bit of effort.”

Hiramu nodded in agreement, his face reflecting his approval of your thorough approach. "Very well," he replied, "We should also see if we can help him find his way. No one should be left to wander alone, much so not one who has been through such an ordeal."

You knelt beside the boy, offering a reassuring smile. "Can you tell us your name?" you asked gently, hoping to ease him into conversation.

As the boy's gaze met yours, his initially wide eyes began to soften, a subtle shift that hinted at his growing realization of safety in your presence. Despite this reassurance, he remained silent, a reaction you attributed to the lingering shock and confusion from the events he had endured. Understandingly, you accepted his quiet, knowing well that pushing him to speak before he was ready could only cause further distress.

You addressed him with a gentle, reassuring smile, your tone soft yet imbued with an underlying strength. "Take all the time you need, little boy," you encouraged, your words floating warmly in the cool air, offering him the space and time he might require to recover from his ordeal. Your smile, kind and patient, was meant to communicate that he was under no pressure to reveal anything before he felt comfortable.

Straightening up, you prepared to continue your duties, aware of the responsibilities that still awaited your attention beyond this encounter. You glanced towards your uncle, who had also been through a trying time, his vigilance unyielding as he supported your efforts. 

"Get some rest. You too, uncle," you added, acknowledging his fatigue and your appreciation for his steadfast support. "I’ll return with haste."

As you turned to leave, the boy's eyes followed your every move, wide and contemplative. In the quiet aftermath of your promise, his gaze lingered on your retreating figure, a mix of newfound trust and lingering uncertainty playing across his features.  His eyes, filled with a depth that spoke of both fear and curiosity, seemed to hold a thousand unasked questions. 

As he watched you disappear into the crowd, there was a palpable sense of wonder about whether he could find his voice, not just to speak but to share his thoughts, fears, and perhaps his hidden stories. The boy was silently grappling with the idea of opening up, of letting someone else into his secluded world.

You, aware of his watchful eyes, felt a twinge of responsibility and hope. His silent scrutiny did not go unnoticed, and it reminded you of the delicate task ahead—not just protecting him from external dangers but also nurturing his trust and confidence to the point where he would feel safe to express himself. The boy's quiet contemplation as you walked away hinted at the significant role you would play in his life, potentially being the first to hear his voice when he finally chose to speak. 

As you melded with the festivities, the distance between you growing, you carried with you the weight of his unspoken thoughts, hoping that when you returned, the boy would be ready to break his silence, allowing you into his world. Until then, he shuts his eyes. He lets the sleep take him to the nether world, where nightmares still come to follow.

HIROMI THINKS THAT SLEEP WAS ALL THAT WOULD FIX THINGS. Hiromi returned to the heart of the festival, your task of reinforcing the protective barriers around the periphery completed. Your work, involving the meticulous weaving of energy to strengthen the existing magical defenses, had left you sharp and attuned to even the slightest disturbance. The process was arduous, as you needed to locate and neutralize any lingering curses that could threaten the festival's sanctity. Each of these encounters, a dance of skill and arcane prowess, tested not only your abilities but also your mental fortitude and resolve.

The challenges were varied, ranging from minor nuisances that were swiftly dealt with, to more stubborn, malignant energies that demanded all your focus and power to dispel. Yet, you managed each with precision and control, your extensive training and natural aptitude shining through. With every curse you unraveled and every barrier you chose to further fortify. As Akimu ensured the festival grounds remained a safe haven, you would do the same. This land must always be free from the influence of dark forces.

This vigilant defense was crucial, not only to protect the attendees but to maintain the balance of energies within the festival area. Any breach could lead to chaos, potentially unleashing harm on the unsuspecting revelers. Your successful fortification of the area thus served as an invisible shield, one that allowed the festival to continue in joyous celebration without the shadow of malevolent interference.

As the sky began to lighten with the approach of dawn, you continued that prideful vigilance, keeping a watchful eye on the worshippers gathered for the festival. Amidst the joyous celebrations, you remained ever alert, scanning the crowd for any signs of disturbance or danger. It was in the stillness of the early morning hours that you noticed a subtle shift in the atmosphere.

Despite the dim light of dawn, you sensed a presence nearby, a stirring of energy that caught all of your attention. Instinctively, you turned your gaze toward the source and saw the pink-haired boy, his eyes open and alert. You approached him quietly, your movements fluid and deliberate. You could sense that something had changed, that your encounter earlier had left an impression on him. With a gentle smile, you greeted him, your voice soft but reassuring.

"Good morning," you said, your tone warm with genuine concern. "How are you feeling?"

The boy's gaze flickered between curiosity and caution as he studied you, trying to parse the intentions behind your unexpected approach. Despite the swirl of doubt clouding his young mind, there was an undeniable sense of comfort that seemed to emanate from your presence—somewhat a stability in the tumultuous sea of his current experiences. Sensing his hesitation, you understood his reticence; after all, to him, you and uncle Hiramu were nothing more than strangers who had suddenly entered his life under unusual and likely frightening circumstances.

However, you sensed a deeper narrative woven into the fabric of the boy's aura, a story that extended beyond his current fear and confusion. You were determined to unearth the role he played in the festival's strange occurrences, driven by a conviction that his involvement was not merely coincidental. This was uncharted territory, a situation that neither you nor the festival had encountered before. Yet, you believed that new challenges were always opportunities for growth and understanding, reminders that there is always a "first time" for every occurrence in life.

Respecting his silence, you chose not to press him further for answers. You recognized that trust needed to be earned, especially in such delicate circumstances. It was then, in a moment of frailty, that the boy's strength seemed to falter, his body leaning as if he might collapse. Reacting swiftly, you stepped forward, kneeling to catch him, your movements guided by a blend of concern and readiness to support him.

As he rebounded slightly, stabilized by your quick intervention, he blinked up at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and bewilderment. In that brief exchange of looks, a silent understanding began to form. Your actions spoke louder than any words could have; they conveyed a promise of protection and empathy, laying the groundwork for a trust that might soon allow the boy to share his story and perhaps reveal the mysteries surrounding the events that had drawn you all together.

As you extended your hand toward him, he hesitated momentarily before his eyes blinked in a mix of confusion and curiosity. Observing his uncertainty, you offered him a tender smile, softening your expression to ease his apprehension.

"Are you alright, young one?" you asked, your voice low and soothing, cutting through the noise of the surrounding festivities.

In that moment, the boy found himself unexpectedly captivated by your presence. There was something almost ethereal about you, a radiance that seemed to emanate from within, casting a gentle, enchanting glow in the soft light of the festival’s lanterns—ones which still light up the dark morning glory. Your form appeared haloed by this light, lending you an otherworldly grace that was both comforting and awe-inspiring.

Your eyes, warm and inviting, seemed to draw him in further. They were deep pools of compassion and understanding, reaching out to him across the void of his own confusion and fear. As your eyes met, he felt a profound connection; it was as though you could see into the very depths of his soul, understanding his fears and yearnings without a word spoken.

The world around both of you seemed to pause, creating a bubble of serenity amidst the chaos. To the boy, this wasn’t just a simple meeting; it was a pivotal moment that would redefine his understanding of safety and hope. Even before he knew your name, Hiromi, he saw in you not just a protector or a higher power, but a guiding light, a beacon of hope illuminating his darkened world.

"What's your name?" you inquired gently, noticing his silence but undeterred by it.

When he remained mute, your smile broadened, radiating kindness and patience. "It’s okay if you have no name," you reassured him, your voice a soft anchor in his stormy sea of thoughts.

Upon hearing this, he looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of amazement and relief. Here was someone offering not just help, but a place and a presence in the world.

"I’ll give you one." you promised, a simple offer that nonetheless promised him a new beginning, a sense of identity and belonging that he had long craved. This simple gesture of naming was more than a label; it was a gift of a new life and a fresh start under your protective gaze.

You smile warmly at him, feeling the weight of the moment as you prepare to give him a name—a simple yet profound gift that could anchor him to a new beginning. When you smile at him, he thinks he found heaven. monsters like him do not deserve heaven. Yet the goddess you were, embraced him in the warmth of tender night. Names were important. In the family, it was.  Sensing the importance of the choice, you think carefully, choosing a name rich with strength and history. The family histories had such good names to choose from, you think.

"Would the name Ryomen Sukuna suffice for you?" you ask gently, observing his reaction to gauge whether it resonates with him. “Now that you are with us, you will gain two lives. The past and now the future. Will you accept it, little one?”

The boy looks up, his eyes widening slightly as he processes the name. It's clear he is unfamiliar with its origins or meanings, but there is an undeniable flicker of intrigue in his gaze. Ryomen Sukuna, a name that carries echoes of a mystic and power to it. Entirely opposite of what he had known. The boy, now Sukuna, thinks this could imbue him with a sense of might and courage, perhaps reflecting the new path he might choose to follow under your guidance. And then, maybe then, he can serve you. With this new name.

For a moment, he remains silent, contemplating the name, rolling it over in his mind. Then, slowly, a tentative smile begins to form on his lips. It seems to suit him, or at least, he is willing to step into the mantle it could offer.

"Ryomen Sukuna," he repeats softly, testing how the name feels as it comes out of his mouth. His voice is unsure at first, but with each repetition, he seems to grow more comfortable, more accepting of it.

Seeing his acceptance, your smile broadens. "Yes, Ryomen Sukuna," you confirm with a nod, affirming his new identity. "It’s a strong name, one that I believe can help guide you to become whoever you wish to be."

The boy nods, a sense of new identity beginning to settle within him. The name, though ancient, now starts a new chapter in his life, one filled with potential and promise. You extend your hand to him once more, this time as a gesture of warmth. A future worth looking forward to.

"Now, you must be hungry, Sukuna," you suggest warmly, ready to introduce him back into the celebration, not as an orphan lost amidst chaos but as a newly named participant with a protector by his side. “There’s still some stalls open. Some are not yet done with the festival. Do you want something to eat?”

He looks at you for a moment and then tenderly nods. As he takes your hand, his grip is firm, and his initial hesitance seems to wash away with the rising sun. Together, you walk back towards the heart of where the fullness of the festival had been, your steps synchronized. Ryomen Sukuna, newly named and newly empowered, walks beside you, no longer just a passive spectator but a young boy with a nascent but growing sense of belonging and purpose.

Your role as his protector, and now the giver of his name, has created a bond between you, one that promises not only safety but also a future filled with the potential for transformation. As you both step into the bustling festival, the early morning light casts long shadows, yet for Sukuna, illuminated by the glow of the lanterns and buoyed by your supportive presence, the world seems less intimidating.

You had given him a name, securing a place for him in this chaos—a gesture simple yet profound. This act forged a tentative bond, knitting a fragile sense of belonging into his young heart. And now, for the first time, he truly belonged somewhere. On this transformative night, his heart was full of nothing but hope. He had a name—a name that was uniquely his, one his mother had never given him.

As you walked side by side, he looked up at you with eyes shining with admiration. Sukuna adored his new name, not just for its sound or its meaning, but because it was a gift from you. It symbolized a new beginning, a sign of your faith in him. In that simple name, he found a deep sense of identity and purpose. He hoped beyond hope that this newfound connection would last.

Feeling the gravity of this moment, he tightened his grip on your hand. You looked down at him and smiled—a gesture that sealed his newfound faith in this bond. At that moment, Ryomen Sukuna felt as though he had been reborn. No longer just a boy lost in the festival's chaos, but a person with a role, a duty, and a place in the world. His life, from that moment forward, was to be lived for you, in devotion to the path you would guide him on. You had become his guardian, his mentor—his goddess—and he, in turn, devoted himself to be your loyal follower.

This rebirth was not just about a new name but a whole new existence shaped by the promise of guidance and protection under your watchful care. As the festival carried on around you, with its myriad lights and shadows, Sukuna walked confidently by your side, secure in his new identity and the journey ahead.

[k-nayee]

It's Giving...Igor Percy Jackson and the Olympians

wc: 4.3k a/n: lol I'm having so much fun with these oneshots y'all. I hope you do too!

Traveler M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

The sun hung lazily over Camp Half-Blood casting a golden hue on the wooded area.

Percy Jackson, now somewhat accustomed to the camp's ebb and flow, still found himself feeling out of place.

Though the events of his first quest had solidified his place in the world of Gods and monsters, the reality of being a Demigod was still sinking in.

He strolled through the camp watching the campers in their daily routines; the clang of swords from the training fields, distant chatter from the dining pavilion.

But amidst it all something caught his attention—a bright and bubbly figure bouncing around the Ares cabin kids without a care in the world.

Percy blinked as his gaze trailed your movements. You was a complete contrast to the scowling battle-hardened Ares kids.

Not to mention you didn't look like a typical child of Ares. Hell you didn't seem to belong there at all.

"Who is that?" Percy muttered partially to himself.

Annabeth, who had been walking the camp with him, followed his gaze.

A smirk curled her lips. "Oh that's ____. She's from the Eris cabin."

"Eris? As in...the Goddess of strife?" His brows furrowed in confusion.

"Yep," Annabeth confirmed with a chuckle. "Goddess of discord and chaos."

He stared at you laughing with one of the Ares kids, passing them a bottle of water as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

It was hard to accept the idea of you being related to a Goddess of chaos when you seemed so gentle. "She doesn't really look it...like at all."

"You really think so? Awe thank you!"

Percy and Annabeth jumped, startled to find you standing just a few steps away with a sweet smile plastered on your face.

How you got that close without them noticing was beyond them.

You were practically beaming—a stark contrast to the usual gloom that seemed to hang around the children of Eris.

"I get that a lot ya know," you continued, rocking back on your heels as if completely unaware of the scare you caused. "If I'm honest it's probably cause of my dad. Sweetest man you could ever meet...wouldn't even guess he was a serial killer."

There was a beat of stunned silence.

The two share a quick wide-eyed glance of disbelief, clearly unsure whether to laugh or be terrified.

Before they could react you dart forward and grab Percy's hand with both of yours, shaking it enthusiastically.

"Percy Jackson!" you chirp, shaking his hand so vigorously that it left him wobbling on his feet. "Can't believe I'm finally meeting you in the flesh. The son of Poseidon! Wow. I've heard so much about you."

Percy found himself lost in the whirlwind that was you. Your energy was so sunny in comparison with the words that had just left your mouth seconds ago.

"Uh...y-yeah," he stammered trying to collect himself. "That's me."

You didn't let go of his hand right away, instead holding it just long enough to make the situation a little awkward.

"So! You really fought the God of War Ares huh? That must've been something. Although..." You leaned in a little with a head tilt as if you were sizing him up. "I was expecting more. I mean for someone who fought Ares, you look like you could barely take on a mortal bully."

Percy was caught off guard. "W-What?"

"You know with all the talk around camp I was expecting it to be a little more...epic. Then again you did the best you could. I mean, if I were facing a God I'd probably want to take the easy way out too. No shame in keeping it simple."

He opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out. What was he supposed to say to that?

Annabeth stifled a laugh, clearly amused at his baffled expression before looking to you.

"You're really good at that aren't you?" Her tone was light with an edge of knowing.

You give a half-shrug.

"At what? Being honest? Someone's gotta keep him humble Wise Girl. Though," your gaze slid to Annabeth with a mischievous glint, "Of all people you should know all about fight with Ares right? Oh wait—never mind. You weren't there. Shame really. Could've used the help."

Annabeth's lips twitched into a tight smirk.

"Yeah well someone had to stay behind and do the thinking." Her words were sharp and calm as if this exchange was nothing new to her. "I figured you'd be better at that considering your parentage."

Your eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Touché," you give a dramatic little bow clearly unfazed by Annabeth's quick jab.

Meanwhile Percy was still trying to wrap his head around what was happening. "Wait...what do you mean I couldn't take on a mortal bully?"

You turned back to him with a bright smile as if you hadn't just insulted him. "Oh no offense of course! It's just with all those big stories about you I was expecting someone a little more...I don't know, formidable? Then again tales exaggerate things. Kind of like when you hear all about a store's big sale, but when you get there it's just old clearance stuff that no one wanted anyway."

Percy blinked. "What?"

You pat his arm as if to console him. "It's fine really. Happens all the time. I'm sure you're...adequate."

The Jackson boy once again didn't know how to respond. Was he supposed to be offended?

It wasn't like you were directly mocking him—more like you were making him doubt himself in the weirdest way possible.

Before he could say anything, your gaze suddenly drifted over Percy's shoulder and your eyes lit up.

"Oh!" Bouncing on your heels as you focused on whatever had caught your attention you turn to the pair with a smile. "Looks like I'm needed! Well it was fun meeting you Son of Poseidon."

You give Percy a teasing salute and then turn to Annabeth with a wink. "And you and I definitely need to have another round of wits Wise Girl."

With a little wave you skip off leaving them in the dust.

For a long moment Percy and Annabeth stood there, both staring after you.

"I don't get it," Percy muttered, finally breaking the silence. "What's her deal?"

"She's from the Eris cabin," Annabeth explained with a shrug as though that summed everything up. "Being chaotic is kind of her thing."

Percy blinked. "Chaotic? She's weird. Her dad's a serial killer Annabeth."

She sheepishly rub the back of her neck. "Yeah I wasn't expecting that either. But trust me she's not dangerous. Not to us at least. She just likes stirring things up."

"Yeah but..." Percy shook his head, watching you with a deepening frown. "I don't trust her. She's too..."

"Too what?" She asks with a smirk. "Too nice?"

Percy shot her a look. "She just told me I was like a disappointing clearance sale!"

Annabeth chuckled. "Yeah that's pretty standard for her to keep people on their toes. You get used to it."

Percy frowned. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

As they spoke Percy's gaze caught sight of you now across the camp.

You were laughing with a group of Aphrodite and Artemis kids, flitting between them like you belonged everywhere.

It was weird. The way you moved so easily between groups always smiling and lighthearted—yet there was something unnerving about it.

Like you were playing some game that no one else knew about.

"Look," Percy said nodding toward you. "There she goes again."

Annabeth followed his line of sight just in time to see you lean in close to one of the Aphrodite kids, whispering something with an exaggerated gasp.

The Aphrodite kid's eyes widened and she looked at you for confirmation with shock coloring her face.

Seeing your nod, she becomes visibly shaken till the point a few of her half-siblings swarmed her trying to console her.

While they were distracted you effortlessly slid over to a nearby Artemis camper and whisper something in her ear.

The Artemis girl's face hardened instantly. Eyes darkened with fury, without hesitation she marches over to the Aphrodite camper.

Tension between them crackled as they exchanged words.

The Aphrodite camper snapped something sharp at the Artemis camper who fired back with equal heat.

Within moments the two girls were yelling and nearby campers began to picking sides.

It wasn't just about the two of them anymore—campers from both cabins were dragged into the fray.

Shoves were exchanged and even the onlookers who had initially tried to mediate were swept up in the full-blown fight.

You slipped away completely unnoticed, leaving the chaos to spread behind you as counselors rushed in to contain the fight you had so subtly instigated.

Annabeth's mouth fell open. "Did...did she just—?"

Percy nodded with an darkening expression. "I told you."

Annabeth shook her head in disbelief. "She really does live up to her mother's name doesn't she?"

Percy sighed, his gaze following you as you joined back with the Ares kids as if nothing had happened.

"Yeah," he muttered. "And I'm pretty sure she's way more dangerous than she lets on."

*.·:·.☽✧✧☾.·:·.*

Percy couldn't shake the unsettling feeling you left in your wake.

You weren't like anyone he'd ever met at Camp Half-Blood—and that was saying something.

All day he kept noticing you; flitting between groups of campers, always smiling, always helping.

But for the Ares cabin? You didn't just help—you managed everything for them like a personal servant.

You'd bounce from one camper to the next, making sure everyone had what they needed.

A strap needed tightening on someone's armor? You were there.

Someone's sword needed fixing? Off to Hephaestus Cabin to get it repaired.

You even carried a pile of weapons over your shoulder like it was nothing, making sure every spear and sword was in pristine condition.

It was strange the way you handled things.

To everyone else you looked like a wimp. A pushover trailing after the Ares kids like a loyal dog.

Some campers even joked about it, wondering why someone as bubbly and soft as you would waste your time with them.

You didn't have the brutal intimidating energy the Ares kids were known for.

And yet despite your soft appearance and sunny attitude, they seemed to tolerate on you.

As lunchtime approached Percy found himself alone.

Annabeth was busy welcoming a new camper, leaving him to make his way to the pavilion by himself. 

Plate balanced in hand, he scans the rows of tables where campers sat in their respective groups—most sticking to their own cabins.

Though the tables around buzzed with laughter and conversation, but Percy still felt like an outsider, even after everything he'd done.

He hadn't fully found his place, not yet really.

Tearing his gaze away with a sigh the Son of Poseidon makes his way to the central hearth to make an offering.

With a portion of his meal selected Percy gets ready to offer it to his dad when—

"Hey Jackson!"

Percy nearly jumped out of his skin. You had appeared beside him, tray in hand with a grin like you'd just won the lottery.

"Uh...hey." he managed caught off guard.

You leaned forward, watching him with wide eyes as he prepared to toss the food into the hearth. "Whatcha doing?"

The Demigod glances down at the hearth then back at you. "Just uh, just giving an offering to my dad."

"Oh cool! It's sweet you do that," you replied with a grin, humming thoughtfully as you looked at the flames. "Guess I should do that too."

Percy's brows raised in curiosity as he watched you step up to the fire.

He assumed you'd pick something off your plate—maybe a small portion to toss in as an offering like everyone else did—but instead you did something that made his heart skip a beat:

You reached directly into the flames.

"Whoa wait—what are you—?!" Percy sputtered eyes widening in disbelief.

Instead of pulling your hand away with a scream of agony, you calmly pluck a half-cooked piece of [food] from the fire.

Percy's mouth dropped open in a mixture of shock and confusion plastered on his face.

"What?" You blink at him before following his gaze to the still-flaming food in your hand. "Oh there wasn't any more of my mom's favorite left at the bar. I figured I'd just grab something quick before it burned all the way through ya know?"

Percy stared at you like you were from another planet. "Your mom's favorite food?"

"Yep," you confirm with a grin. "She's a picky eater sometimes. Then again I guess Eris isn't the easiest Goddess to please."

Shrugging as though this was common knowledge, you turn the food in your hand to inspect it further. "I usually only give blessings for her. Oh and Ares too—only if he hasn't ticked me off though."

Percy's brain tried to catch up with the words you'd just said. His mouth moved, but no words came out for a second. "Wait so...you're only making offerings to Eris and Ares?"

You make a small prayer for your mom before throwing the food back into the hearth and turn to the blonde boy.

"Uh-huh! The others don't really care much for me. I mean can you blame them? No one likes messing with my mom, and by extension me. She causes too much trouble even for them." You flashed him a playful grin. "Plus, I think I'm her favorite."

He shook his head unable to wrap his mind around how nonchalant you were about everything.

"You're...impossible," Percy mumbled, his tone equal parts baffled and impressed.

"You're not the first person to say that," you teased with a wink and nudge him lightly. "Anyway, looks like you're all alone today. Mind if I join you?"

Before he could respond you were already dragging him to one of the emptier tables.

Percy was still trying to figure you out. You weren't dangerous—at least not in the way he'd expect a child of Eris to be.

But you were unsettling in your own way; friendly yet... strange, an almost too carefree energy about you.

"So," you lean forward with a bright-eyed grin, "What's your story? I mean I know the basics—son of Poseidon, fought the God of War, saved the day and all—but how's a guy like you end up doing all that?"

Percy gave you a sideways look. "You already know all that stuff. You seem to know everything that goes on around camp."

"True," you admit with a pout. "But I wanna hear it from you. Stories are way more fun that way."

He hesitated, still unsure if you were genuinely curious or just setting him up for another round of subtle digs.

But surprisingly the more you pressed, the more you managed to pull bits and pieces of his story from him.

He talked a little about his mom and how much she meant to him—though he skipped over the worst parts.

"Wow only child in both worlds huh? That's a bummer. I was an only child out in the mortal world too, but Camp Half-Blood gave me a bunch of moody gloomy brothers and sisters." You waved vaguely in the direction of the Eris table, where your half-siblings sat.

Percy followed your gaze, eyes narrowing as he observed the difference between you and the others from your cabin.

They were all starkly different from you—dark, brooding, exuding an aura of chaos just by being around.

Like storm clouds or a brewing hurricane while you were the sunshine in the middle of it all.

It didn't make sense.

"You don't really fit in with them though," Percy said, gesturing to your siblings. "You're...not like them."

You tilt your head with a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "You'd be surprised. It's easier to blend in with chaos when you wear a smile. Keeps people guessing."

Satisfied with the answer Percy suddenly shifts in his seat.

His gaze dart around, unsure of how to bring up the topic that had been bugging him ever since your first meeting.

Finally he cleared his throat. "Uh...speaking of family. You mentioned your dad before. That he was...y'know..."

"A serial killer?" you finished for him, smile unfaltering.

Percy flinched at how easily the words rolled off your tongue, like it was just another quirky fact about your life.

"Yeah that."

"Oh my dad's the greatest!" you exclaimed, leaning back with a nostalgic sigh. "The sweetest man you'd ever meet—total golden retriever energy, always in pastels and soft colors. He's truly the last person you'd expect to have over two hundred bodies to his name."

Percy nearly choked on his drink. "Two hundred?!"

"The official documented count. They estimate there's more. He never really kept tabs so who knows," you add with a shrug.

The pre-teen was silent, his mind reeling as he tried to process what you'd just said. "And you...seem okay with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be? He was a good guy! I mean he only went after people who deserved it—kinda like Jigsaw. Strong moral compass and everything."

He purse his lips. "That's...that's not really the same thing."

"Eh. But hey, at least he stopped killing when I was born. Wanted to focus on raising me. He did start back when I turned six though." You smiled fondly as if reminiscing about happy childhood memories. "We even went on father-daughter hunting trips together. Great bonding time."

Percy's jaw dropped. "H-Hunting trips?"

"Yup! He'd teach me all about tracking, stealth, how to dispose of bodies. Said I had a natural gift for it."

He tried not to grimace at the thought of six-year-old you going on murder trips with a serial killer, a disturbingly vivid picture appearing in his mind.

"That's messed up," he blurted out unable to stop himself.

You giggled, waving it off like it was no big deal. "He got caught when I was nine. That's when I ended up in foster care."

The casual way you spoke about your past made Percy's skin crawl but he was too curious to stop listening. "Foster care?"

You poked at your food absentmindedly as you spoke. "It wasn't the best. Different homes, different people. It was toxic really: thrown bottles, yelling voices, a bruise here and there..."

Percy stiffened, the similarities between your childhood and his life with Gabe hitting a little too close to home.

Though it crashes at the sight of your dreamy expression, "...it was so chaotic. So beautiful."

"You're serious?" his voice was barely above a whisper, unsure if you were joking or genuine.

"Oh completely," you reply without missing a beat. "Chaos is unpredictable, uncontrollable. There's just something so freeing about it."

He swallowed hard feeling the gulf between how you both saw the world. What you called beautiful, he called trauma.

Not knowing how to respond to that he gives a stiff nod. "So um. W-what happened after that?"

You snapped out of your reverie and perk up again. "Oh right! So when I was around eleven I found out I was a Demigod. Arrived here and figured out who my mom was—Eris, goddess of strife and chaos, all that jazz."

A sense of relief filled him, feeling the conversation veer back to something he could at least wrap his head around. "And your dad?"

Your eyes brightened as if he'd asked the perfect question. "Well of course I started visiting him in prison once I figured out how to shadow travel."

"Wait," Percy blinked in surprise. "You visited him? Like you actually met him?"

"Yup," you said cheerfully. "I'd pop in during the night. To everyone else it just looked like he was talking to a dark corner. But I was there right beside him. Kept him company until..." Your voice trailed off but your smile didn't falter. "Well until he got the lethal injection when I turned twelve last year."

Percy stared at you, his mouth dry. "You were there?!"

"Duh. Who else was gonna be there for him? That's my dad after all...stayed with him until the very end."

A fond look appears on your face. "He even said his last words to me. Go out there and keep shaking things up sweetheart. The world's better with a little disorder..."

"Wow..." Was all Percy managed to say. He leans back in his seat as his mind reeled from everything you'd just told him. "I...uh...I'm sorry for your loss?"

You giggled, waving your hand dismissively. "Oh don't be. It's all good. He lived a full life you know? And I got to see it all."

Before either of you could continue the conversation a familiar voice cuts through the air. "____!"

Clarisse stormed over, her heavy boots thudding against the floor as she approached.

"Where have you been?!" She barked. Her scowl deepened when she saw Percy sitting across from you. "And what the Hades are you doing sitting with him?"

You simply smiled at her as if you hadn't noticed her foul mood at all.

"Just keeping Percy company," you chirped. "He looked lonely."

Clarisse huffed, her gaze sliding back to Percy with an unimpressed sneer. "Lonely huh? Poor little Seaweed Brain."

Percy bristled at the insult. He couldn't understand why you hang out with them, why they relied on you.

The question had been gnawing at him since he first noticed your strange connection with the Ares kids.

And now, with Clarisse glaring at him, he couldn't hold it in anymore.

"What's the deal with you and those Ares kids anyway? They treat you like—like you're their servant or something."

Clarisse's sneer twisted into something darker, her voice dropping low as she leaned over the table toward Percy.

"You don't know anything," she growled. "Just her mother is to our father, she's everything to us. Without her we wouldn't be able to fight the way we do. Spill blood the way we do. She makes us stronger."

The intensity in her voice caught Percy off guard.

There was a fierceness to her words, but there was also something deeper—something like reverence. Maybe even admiration.

The Ares cabin respected you, needed you in a way that went beyond simple reliance. It unsettled him.

He looked at you perplexed but you only smiled at him as if you'd heard this all before.

Sensing the tension building you gently place a hand on Clarisse's arm, your touch instantly diffusing her aggression.

"Relax Clarisse," you say with a grin. "Percy's not so bad. He's just curious."

Clarisse grumbled under her breath, clearly still annoyed but less intense now.

"Fine. Just don't take too long. You know where to find us." She glared at Percy one last time before turning on her heel and stomping away, though not before giving the Demigod one last warning glare.

You turn back to Percy with a playful glint in your eyes. "Looks like I saved just you from an ass-whooping. You owe me one."

Percy couldn't help but chuckle with a shake of his head.

"You sure are a wild one," his words slipped out before he could stop them.

"Wild....?" The word roll off your tongue. Your smirk darkened ever so slightly as if those words triggered something in you. 

Percy's brows furrowed unsure what you meant, but before he could ask, you raise your hand.

Dark inky smoke began to twist and curl from your palm, snaking around your fingers like living shadows.

The air seemed to thicken with energy and Percy could only watch transfixed as the smoke condensed into a solid shape—a golden apple.

It seemed to shimmer with a strange otherworldly light, pulse softly as though it had a heartbeat of its own.

Percy's breath hitched. There was something mesmerizing about it but also deeply unsettling.

He knew enough about myths to recognize what this was: The Apple of Discord.

"Wha—" Percy began, but the words died on his lips as you twirled your hand with an elegant flick of your wrist and the apple morphed.

In its place appeared a sleek new phone and a vape pen, both gleaming as though they had just been pulled out of a store display.

Percy barely had time to process what was happening before you casually tossed the objects a short distance from the table and stood up.

"Hey look!" you called out loud enough to catch the attention of the surrounding campers. "The newest [phone model] and a [flavored] vape from the mortal world!"

Heads snapped in your direction, eyes widening as campers spotted the coveted objects lying on the ground.

In an instant the entire dining pavilion erupted into chaos.

Campers lunged for the phone and vape, shoving and pushing each other out of the way desperate to claim the prize.

Voices rose, chairs screeched across the floor, and fists flew as they scramble for the items intensified.

Percy could only sit there watching in stunned disbelief as the scene unfolded around him.

Campers who had been peacefully eating moments before were now engaged in full-on brawls all over a phone and a vape.

It was like a bomb had gone off and you had lit the fuse.

From across the way, Clarisse and the Ares kids along with your half-siblings, watched the chaos unfold with bored amusement.

They barely paid attention as they continued eating, as if this kind of spectacle was a routine occurrence. It probably was.

You calmly sit back down in your seat with a soft giddy sigh as if you had just finished a particularly satisfying task.

You didn't even glance at the chaos you'd caused, your focus entirely on your food as you took a slow bite.

"Wild you say...?"

A pale-faced Percy turned to look at you. The sheer ease in which you'd thrown the entire pavilion into disorder left him speechless.

Finally, you turn back to him, still smiling that sweet carefree smile. "...you have no idea~"

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I send in screen shots to someone that made a callout post about a former friend?

Please read this entire thing before your decision. I understand the "blurb" may make me seem like a backstabber and someone you wouldn't trust, but I have my reasons I'll detail why this person is a former friend.

I'm a former friend of someone we'll call Marie. Marie, idk how to explain it, but she kind of didn't care about anyone but herself. Anytime someone would talk about something she'd make it about herself and it was very annoying. Marie also would make a lot of us uncomfortable at times. She said some racial slurs to us various times and claimed it wasn't racist. One was towards me and I asked her not to, basically I told her she can't call me a slur because she's white and made me feel uncomfortable. The other was some Irish thing I had to google because our friend who is Irish was uncomfortable and I'm still horrified with what I saw.

Marie would reblog my vent posts on tumblr a lot. None was ever to console me. One was where she reblogged and said "this would be a good ice breaker for a date." I did go off on her since at the time I had such a nasty break up and my vent had absolutely nothing to do with that. Now here's the issue, besides reblogging my vent posts, someone archived her reblog of my vent posts on the wayback. Multiple ones. I contacted wayback, but they said they only delete archives if the blog owner makes a statement on their blog. For reference, i have had multiple chronic stalkers and Marie was very well aware of it. So I already had wayback not allow archives of my blog because one stalker was using it to archive everything on me online. So a stalker found a loophole in the form of Marie. Now, this was before Tumblr had allowed us to disable reblogs. So no jumping to the comments saying it's my fault when this was years ago before that function was available. So, Marie refused and told me its whatever and if anything they were probably archiving her edits despite all of the archives on her blog had my vents she reblogged, like every single time she reblogged it got archived.

Now lastly, Marie was one of those people who would never celebrate anyone's victories. It was so weird, someone could say "oh, I got a new camera for my photography" and she'd say something like "in 3rd grade someone shat on my camera, so I never got a new camera". It would make stuff so awkward and make us not want to talk in our discord. I got a scholarship one year she decided to go to school (she was 12 years out of highschool) and she lost her financial aid in one semester because she didn't do any of her school work! Yet somehow "the government picks favorites and doesn't want to pay people that deserve it". Her words, I was very offended since she knew I worked full time, was a POC, and was not eligible for financial aid. Let me have the scholarship win without making it about you!

So one day I just blocked her everywhere after I deleted the friend discord we had. It wasn't right after, I waited over a year and became more and more distant. She did contact me again, but surprise surprise, she wanted me to help build her a website for her "oni-sona". I declined and we haven't spoken since.

Now the callout part. She has a callout under her new alias and it has her previous too. In this callout it's talking a lot about how she treats people like shit and uses them for her own gain. It details as well to not support her or any of her projects because she steals (idk about that, I've personally never witnessed it, but I'm believing OP because everything else is true.)

Now, would I be the AH if I submit stuff to add to the callout? I was just going to send in how she reblogged my vents and someone archived them on wayback and she refused to contact way back to delete them despite knowing I had stalkers. Maybe I'll submit more stuff, but not caring I had stalkers is my biggest gripe and something I think should be added since she allowed my stalkers to do that.

[sucuretcannelle]

Let me reinforce this cuz I THINK y'all lost the plot, and I don't like people ASSUMING what I'm thinking. That shit is weird, just ask instead of making theories

I'm not hating on Rose cuz I'm racist (I'm black) transphobic (im pangender) or for any reason like that. It's not prejudice. STOP just calling people that stuff when they don't support Rose, it's weird

It's ALSO not because I have a parasocial relationship with kab. I don't give a doggystyle damn, I don't know them, they don't know me. What we do know is that kab is another human being, right? Okay

Insulting your employer BEFORE you get a job, while you're in the fandom— just seems like a waste of energy. Sorry the stuff from the private discord got leaked 🤷‍♀️ it's the internet, that happens. I was upset BEFORE I saw that stuff. The stuff that was sent on Tumblr alone was already rude, and again, being that angry over something you can calmly talk about with another fan shouldn't be that hard. Speaking that harshly, knowing that you are now associated with the creator (I mean this is why people are told to not post anything that may be seen as unprofessional on their accounts when they have a job...it's not abnormal) can start some outrage

Hiring a sensitivity reader that's already in the fandom— might not be the best idea either. 🤷‍♀️ Weird but I mean, there's worse I guess??? Well we found out the outcome lol so it is pretty bad

We weren't mad that it was kab that was being talked to harshly, but people are upset that rose is STAYING after what was said. That's why we're mad at kab. People don't want someone with that attitude touching a game that they're funding or supporting. It's that simple I promise you don't have to reach 😭