❝ To have no story to share ;
having left yourself nameless, unread & forgotten …
Tell me … What sort of life is that?
Would you like me to share my stories with you? ❞
#strywoven: a first-time writing request blog ( though with plenty of writing experience ) - simple , lowkey , purely for the love of doing projects and bringing stories together. curated as a method of madness and labor of love by your humble scribe , maverick ( 30 - they/them - counseling psych grad student ).
a few reminders before interacting:
my schooling will always take priority. as such , i may not always have time to fulfill a request in a timely manner.
i reserve the right to deny a request for any reason ( especially if it seems inappropriate ).
i believe in quality over quantity, but please don't let that discourage you from reaching out!
if you're not sure on a request or if i can do it, please feel free to reach out beforehand.
will do:
char x oc / char x self-insert
headcanon sets, drabbles, and the occasional ficlet
cc letters
au settings
psychological, religious, and horror themes
mythological entities
ocs and self-inserts
won't do:
char x char
general no-no scenarios ( sa, taboo topics, etc. )
for best results , try these stories ( bias list - subject to change ):
hello my sweetlings ( all 2.5 of you ). i come with good news: i am currently cobbling together ANOTHER niche little au for you all. "mav," i hear you cry, "tell us more!"
glad you asked! it's still drafted/being refined for each character i've selected but here are some cursory details for you to chew on:
Set during the modern era in Japan, this AU is what I would call canon-ish: this verse is pulling from several traits of the general JJK canon, while also establishing a new, occult-supernatural setting. Based on the Western paganist culture and rites of forming pacts with Familiars ( be they demons, spirits, or other supernatural entities ), Sorcerers of Japan ( seen as the equivalent of American Witches and European Mages ) have decided to step forward and do the same. Sorcerers now form MUTUAL BONDS with Yōkai, helping to support the already awkward unified diplomacy between them and humanity. There are certain Yōkai, however, who are forced into these pacts in an effort to rehabilitate them and extinguish the negative impact of their curse on society. The Thaumaturgy Institute ( TI ) is specifically designed for such cases, detaining these outliers, performing close analyses, and carefully reintegrating them into society via "rewiring" their spiritual energy output through a host human and mandated pact.
So who are YOU, dear reader? Well, you are a very special file in the TI's case load: a Sorcerer, sure, that's a given... But with an oddly malleable presence that makes you especially compatible with any and every spirit/curse the TI has asked you to Host in the past. Each one they gave you has had a positive rehabilitation rate. Until ( insert character ).
And which characters have I drafted for the cause? Choso ( a Yōsei born of the breath, blood & bones of the earth; corrupted due to immense grief ); Kashimo ( a Raijū, cast out of the storms for causing a blight in the sky ); Megumi ( a merging of his own Divine Dogs Shikigami & himself... no explanation needed here ); Geto ( a merging of him and his Luck Dragon; corrupt, ruinous, morally bankrupt, per usual ).
I was not initially going to post a "sneak peek" into my drafts but... Seeing as my posts are so sparse, I decided it was only fair. So, poll time: Who would you go for? How would you bond with them?
What?: Gachiakuta | Grimdark Fantasy | Noncanon AU
Who?: Tamsy Caines.
Synopsis:
Believe you in FATE?
DESTINY?
DIVINE PROVIDENCE?
Perhaps not, especially when the world has done its due to make mockery of your life. Or shall we say, lives. Each beginning breath, to each demise, has been a tapestry of the Gods ( whomever of them still hear your prayers or care to listen ) weaving an ode of misgivings and misfortune.
You persist, even so, because that is the contempt of soul: IMMORTAL WILL—live, die, live again. Through new eyes, born with new flesh and heart, but still with a spirit that even the stars have quivered to name.
I shudder to think of the attention you have captured. For not all has been good. And certainly not all has been gracious.
But what shall you do when Fate itself begins to rewrite himself in your honor?
Tamsy was before the mortals, and before the Gods themselves. Indeed, he was the first, and shall be the last. With Tokushin, the Spool forged from the steel of cosmic will, he spins the threads of everything and everyone, leaving his impression upon all creation by weaving the tapestry from which all things obey.
Every thread that trembles through the fabric of all things stains with his signature. The Spool remembers every twist, every pull, every time a thread snapped, only to be rewoven by his will. The Gods? They are threads—luminous, powerful, bound to the tapestry. The mortals? They are the echoes—fleeting, fragile, and so very willing to believe they chose their path.
You do not pray to him.
You do not curse him.
You belong to him.
And when the last thread unravels at the end of all things, Tamsy will still be there, sitting in the quiet dark of the Spool’s core, humming a tune only stars remember, and winding the final thread into himself.
And the world will always be the story he wrote.
Further Reading:
Similar to the AU!Fu I wrote a bit ago ( thank you for the support on that, for the record ), I wanted to really emphasize the sheer madness of Tamsy in this mythology/Fantasy-inspiried AU where Y/N is the thread of the cosmic tapestry he constantly attempts to control... But can't. And in his typical fashion, becomes impossibly obsessed with them, with possessing them. Essentially: You are one of the miserable few who have been caught in the eternal cycle of reincarnation ( reason pending ). It's getting old. Being nearly immortal was never as exciting as people tried to tell you it was. And your most recent death has suddenly shifted drastically when, not a God, but a Primordial Titan with omnipotent control over the cosmos, steps in and literally wrenches your Anima ( soul ) from the afterlife to take home with him. No biggie. Until he starts saying he's going to rewrite Fate itself for you. He says it is AN ACT OF LOVE... Is it really?
All that is, was, and will be flows from the Spool ( Tokushin ), a cosmic tapestry spun by Tamsy Caines, the Primordial Fateweaver. He has taken it upon himself to determine the Fates of any and everything in existence.
More Lore: In the void before existence, when the cosmos was naught more than abyssal chaos and nothing, Tamsy emerged as the first consciousness. He was neither born nor created, but an inevitable shift. He wove the primordial threads from nothingness itself, spinning reality into being through sheer will and design. Every star, every soul, every moment was his tapestry of creation. For eons, he was alone with his craft, a Titan without worshippers. Then Y/N appeared in his threads, not by chance, but as the one thread he didn't, couldn't weave. Obsessed with this anomaly, he spent lifetimes reweaving reality to bring Y/N back, again and again, trying to understand the one thing in his cosmos he couldn't control. Now, he's perfected the pattern. They are no longer an anomaly—They are his masterpiece, and he will ensure Y/N will never slip through his fingers again.
He uses pinky promises unironically.
Has a HIGHLY TWISTED SENSE OF LOVE; he doesn't love people, he craves, longs for them, wants to break them and hold them and possess them in mind and spirit; lovers are his, and he is theirs to such an extent there is no difference between them. He uses this sense of love to rationalize and even moralize his sense of violence and desire to manipulate and mutilate the psyche of his partner.
Tamsy is touch-starved and yet also somewhat touch-averse; he will keep distance from others or catch a hand reaching from him and move it from him to remain detached.
Yes, he DOES like shibari, and yes, he will use those Threads to bind and control you during sex.
Tamsy has a perverse sense of intimacy. Tamsy’s emotional and moral detachment coexists with a twisted intimacy in how he treats those he truly likes: treating their suffering as necessary, thinking he knows what’s best for them, and even being emotionally moved by their pain and breaking points.
He FIRMLY BELIEVES that resistance to his bond or affection is "cosmically illogical"; he sees your connection to him as written into the fabric of existence itself ( and he would know, right? ).
What?: Gachiakuta | Supernatural | Noncanon AU
Who?: Fu Orostor.
Synopsis:
"Do you believe in demons?"
The thought, the question, is no longer novel; humans have been looking for a cure to their loneliness for ages and have recently turned to bartering with Hell. It's strange, really, that mankind would be desperate to find peace in the dark and cruel; ironic even.
Archdemons.
They are manifested rather than born, carving their bodies and bones up from the layers of Hell by force of will and whim of own accord. From Beelzebub to Mammon, each of them has risen and taken on POWER, NAME & CONTROL. All of them have a stake in the design of the infernal, except– well– one.
His true name was HII. Hii of the despondent, of the miserable, of the wasted and wanting few who lacked purpose and died forgotten. Nobility, he was. Until he wasn't. Until the other Overlords decided he was weak and a challenge to their proud hierarchy.
Not often do Archdemons turn against their own. But they collectively disdained Hii, forming a plan to corner him, unbind him, and throw him above, stranding him in the mortal world to be perpetually, tragically ALONE.
No longer Hii, but FU, the Archdemon was plunged into a new world ( and, with any luck, a new chance ). Unburdened by his heritage, but plagued by his need for purpose, he desperately sought ...
A MASTER.
Further Reading:
In this AU, I wanted to combine the persona of Fu and Hii, integrating them into something somewhat whole. Here, Hii is his "former" self, someone who, even as an Archdemon, was regarded as a "failure," "incomplete," and completely "useless". And in the mortal world? That haunts him, kicking in those demonically biological instincts to seek out a Host, not to possess and destroy, but to restore his sense of purpose. That Host? You, of course!
Hardly incompetent, Fu is a study in high-strung contradictions: despite being an excommunicated hellborn aristocrat, he is plagued by paralyzing anxiety and an insufferable sense of insecurity. His nature isn't the typical towering threat and herald of ruin, but rather just a jittery, over-apologetic mess with a compulsive and increasingly obsessive-possessive devotion to Y/N that manifests in him clinging to their presence more and more and more, detaching them from the world, goading them to rely on him ... Eliminating threats with little more than a stammered excuse of, "I- I took care of it! D- Don't... Worry!"
Although stress makes him recoil, any genuine threat to Y/N causes him to shift into the canonical Hii: stalwart, imposing, a mass of manic fervor and frenzy on Y/N's behalf, blinded by a duty to serve and protect, driven by a single-minded order given the instant you signed the contract ( or didn't, he might've just assumed ).
It should be noted that whether or not Y/N consented to his presence, he will view them as his "master". To Fu, their every breath and whim is as good as divine law, and their presence is worth more to him than his own life. Y/N is sacred to Fu.
... Perhaps most importantly, he is a soft yandere with increasingly possessive tendencies and a big dick!virgin.
❝ I love you , baby , ❞
blood-drip-grip seizes the face ,
held like a vice ,
unable to leave ,
tight as a hunter's snare ,
❝ And if it's quite alright ,
I need you , baby.
'Cause you best believe , no-one else will. ❞
What?: JJK [Jujustu Kaisen] | Gods and Mythology AU | Non-Canon/Canon Divergent.
Who?: Naoya Zenin.
Synopsis: When Man was young, Gods were already old as old could ever be; having carried humanity into their history and both wrote and rewrote the history of those who took their divinity and boons for granted.
The world, still, is young, but a toddler in comparison to the crucible of creation. And the Gods? They hold the power—ends and beginnings, order and chaos, annihilation and rebirth. Now what can we do but pray? Not for their favor, exactly, but to never cross their path.
And what better ( nay, alas, what worse ) God to snare the attentions of than the one born from humanity's first heartbreak and lovelorn madness thereafter? His spirit transmuted from Man's very nature to possess, to long, to need and want and yearn to NO END—Yes, from that wound arose the most manipulative of the Gods: Naoya, patron of love, indulgence, and abundance. He evolved, or rather, transcended into the divine host of feasts, passion, and reckless, ravening desire. Mortals pray to him for romance, prosperity, and pleasure, for his favor brings beauty, fortune, and intoxicating joy. Yet the same blessings often carry excess in their wake, and devotion to him can sour as easily as wine left too long uncorked, and festers the soul. Thus, he is both celebrated and feared: a dazzling god of pleasure whose gifts are as overwhelming as the desires that created him.
Further Reading:
Naoya, in this AU, like the others, have mythical namesakes. His include: "The Ruinous Host", "The Sovereign Indulgence", "Heart-Stirrer"/"Heart-Rotter", and so on.
Perhaps strangely ( or, I suppose, predictably ), mortals have taken to portraying the God of Love and Indulgence as fox-like in artwork and parables, almost as if he's more of a kitsune-spirit of some kind rather than an insatiable God. In truth... He DOES NOT have foxy traits. He has a gilded crown of proud, curved horns and sharp spines trailing down his back, like a Daemon of yore; something malignant and marvelous all at once.
A little history for you: Naoya was born from mortalkind's first heartbreak, which subsequently turned into madness. He emerged radiant and terrible, embodying the intoxicating extremes of love; desire, vanity, indulgence, and the unending hunger to be adored. Where the mortal heart had once begged for affection, the god demanded it, turning devotion into spectacle and pleasure into proof of worth. He crowned himself patron of feasts, lovers, and all the excess that follows passion unchecked, blessing those who entertained him with abundance while letting lesser affections sour and decay.
Yes, he hosts Bacchanal-like orgies and parties. HOWEVER, if you partake in them once... You are a guest there for eternity. Be careful!
Love and pleasure, in his view, are things that should be grand, visible, and worthy of someone of his stature. He is easily bored and especially hard to please. And, unfortunate for anyone involved with him, he is VERY SELFISH with his indulgences.
He gets offended by modesty. People who are humble and say, "Oh, I don't deserve that," especially at one of his Bacchanals, make him highly agitated. He finds humility confusing and vaguely annoying.
❝ You said give me a hand to hold ,
I said be careful
For I'm gonna break your soul. ❞
What?: JJK [Jujustu Kaisen] | Gods and Mythology AU | Non-Canon/Canon Divergent.
Who?: Mahito.
Synopsis: When Man was young, Gods were already old as old could ever be; having carried humanity into their history, and both wrote and rewrote the history of those who took their divinity and boons for granted.
The world, still, is young, but a toddler in comparison to the crucible of creation. And the Gods? They hold the power—ends and beginnings, order and chaos, annihilation and rebirth. Now what can we do but pray? Not for their favor, exactly, but to never cross their path.
Born from the primordial expanse of nothingness, Mahito coalesced into existence by whim, shaped and reshaped, exerting the will of transformation– evolution– unto the world. Mortal or God, it made no difference; he was the only true perfection, and the only hand that knew how to make things as they must be. Exiled from the Pantheon for attempting to remake humanity in his image, he now survives in quiet, restless isolation, awaiting... SOMETHING... A new canvas, a new fixation ripe for his artistry.
Further Reading:
Mahito is known as "The Self-Made God", "The Soul-Shaper", "Child of Chaos," etc. Of course, in the modern era, many of these namesakes are hardly recognized anymore. He is a primordial god of Chaos, identity, and transformations.
A little history: In the beginning, there was Void. Not silence, but potential unshaped in the endlessness of the untapped cosmos. From this boundless womb of nothingness, the first gods emerged—beings of order, time, creation, and destruction. But Mahito did not come with them. He coalesced later as an afterthought, or perhaps an inevitability. When the first beings defined the world—naming life, sculpting form, drawing lines between self and other—Mahito stepped forward from the fractures in their design. He was born of what they excluded: contradiction, flux, instability. He was the writhing shape of the in-between, neither fully god nor beast, thought nor instinct. And when the other gods asked him: “What are you?” Mahito only smiled, for he had already become them in that moment, mirroring their forms and their fears.
He weaves the souls of mortals into new forms when they die. Some are reborn, others become curses/demons. He once tried to reshape humanity in his image, leading to a divine war and Mahito's exile from the Pantheon.
One would say he contains multitudes and contradictions; he constantly changes his form mid-sentence, mimicking others or revealing new mouths, limbs, textures.
He's obsessed with identity and yet strives to dismantle and recreate it in others.
Embodies the ever-shifting nature of the soul, self, and form. His existence and power are both liberating and terrifying, as his influence destabilizes fixed identities and catalyzes evolution through pain or metamorphosis. Mahito operates from a place of detachment, possibly divine curiosity. According to him, other beings [whether mortal or divine] are “playthings” or “projects,” yet his chaos is a necessary force in the world.
Mahito is adept at psychological manipulation. He preys on human hatred, sorrow, and insecurities to direct people to accommodate his goals to the point where his victims go against any common sense.
Mahito revels in existential crises, because they force individuals to confront who they really are — and often, to become someone [or something] new.
❝ They say lightning don't strike twice ,
Then what do you make of me ? ❞
What?: JJK [Jujustu Kaisen] | Gods and Mythology AU | Non-Canon/Canon Divergent.
Who?: Hajime Kashimo.
Synopsis: When Man was young, Gods were already old as old could ever be; having carried humanity into their history, and both wrote and rewrote the history of those who took their divinity and boons for granted.
The world, still, is young, but a toddler in comparison to the crucible of creation. And the Gods? They hold the power—ends and beginnings, order and chaos, annihilation and rebirth. Now what can we do but pray? Not for their favor, exactly, but to never cross their path.
Hajime Kashimo was not born—he was unleashed. Forged in the heart of the first storm, he is the God of Storms and Strife, a divine force drawn to battle like lightning to a blade. Across ages and empires, he has been both omen and executioner—unclaimed by gods, unmatched by men, and above all else: A STORM LOOKING FOR ITS COUNTERPOINT.
Further Reading:
Hajime's epithets include the somewhat obvious, "Stormbringer" and even "Lightbearer". In this AU, Hajime is the GOD OF STORMS & STRIFE ; he is the very first god of war, born from the first upheaval of cosmic struggle and storm.
His veins are imbued with the "ichor of storms", meaning that they gleam and pulse dimly beneath his skin.
Like a living tempest, he gives off a palpable pressure, as if one is approaching an oncoming stormfront. And his skin carries a tangible static; his energy is a constant hum of electrical, charged current that ebbs and changes according to his mood.
As a storm god, Hajime isn’t "chaotic"; quite the opposite! He seeks clarity through the perpetual chaos. He believes that the truest version of the self is only revealed in the crucible of strife. He doesn't cause war for cruelty, but because he views battle as sacred, necessary, and even purifying.
He rarely seeks connection. Instead, he TESTS OTHERS, putting them through the crucible of battle [often against himself] to see if they're worth entertaining/keeping around more than a moment.
Very much an "actions speak louder than words" type of God; Hajime struggles with expressing or valuing emotional nuance. He is likely to dismiss emotional vulnerability as weakness unless proven through action or resilience.
There’s a reflective, almost tragic core to Hajime’s endless search for a worthy opponent—a yearning for meaning and transcendence through battle. His view of conflict is especially philosophical. He’s not bloodthirsty—he’s idealistic about combat as a sacred rite and a valuable language within itself.
Physical touch causes a harmless but startling static discharge, which he never warns anyone of.
❝ The best lesson is knowing that honor
is sometimes found in those dishonored ,
unbound by human consequences. ❞
What?: JJK [Jujustu Kaisen] | Gods and Mythology AU | Non-Canon/Canon Divergent.
Who?: Satoru Gojo.
Synopsis: When Man was young, Gods were already old as old could ever be; having carried humanity into their history, and both wrote and rewrote the history of those who took their divinity and boons for granted.
The world, still, is young, but a toddler in comparison to the crucible of creation. And the Gods? They hold the power—ends and beginnings, order and chaos, annihilation and rebirth. Now what can we do but pray? Not for their favor, exactly, but to never cross their path.
Holder of many epithets and the usurper of the once-ways of the Pantheon, Satoru is, if nothing else, a divinity as much as a catalyst. Honor, power, purpose, all things he represents, but all things that coexist with his frayed, complex sense of morality and ethics. What happens when humanity tests his fraying patience? Time to find out.
Further Reading:
His mythical epithets include: "The Honored One", "The One and Infinite", "The Arbiter of Man", "The Lone Ascendant", "Bearer of the Sixfold Sight", etc.
Although he IS A GUARDIAN , one can very well consider him reluctant, morally grey, and disillusioned.
For me, threads of white light wrap around his forearms, ankles, and neck, ever-shifting slightly, as though breathing [these aren’t decorative, they're seals that restrain his power]. These threads are a constant burden sewn into his essence and appearance [think of it as a check-balance to his power; like the blindfold in-canon].
Being near Satoru is like standing beneath a collapsing sky. Mortals will report feeling their own failings, desires, and fears sharpen — as though their purpose is being weighed [and rightly found WANTING]; Space subtly distorts around him.
In this AU, I imagine that Satoru was less born so much as forged of sheer COSMIC WILL ; a fracture of Fate itself [for me, he erupted - quite literally - from the everlasting war of Chaos & Order; thus, one may think of him as one of the foundational Gods].
Known for just materializing in battlefields, temples, or dreams—sometimes upside down, sometimes mid-conversation, sometimes entirely unwanted. He often leaves people mid-sentence if he grows bored or feels he’s made his point.
When he does reveal his eyes and removes his blindfold, it is ONLY TO THOSE HE TRUSTS AND FINDS WORTHY .
Satoru's moral ambiguity suggests he’s willing to sacrifice individuals, manipulate fates, or twist justice if it serves a greater cosmic purpose. His immense power separates him from humanity, making his decisions feel distant, godlike; he is righteous, yet cruel.
His blindfold [still worn in this AU] is a sacred relic, rumored to keep his omniscience in check. It’s also part-symbolic, as “true honor is not seen, but felt.” He may offer it to someone once every millennium, temporarily granting them cosmic insight [which may drive them mad].
❝ O' blood of my blood ,
Flesh of my flesh ,
When shall you see ,
You are more Human ,
Than Human can be. ❞
What?: JJK [Jujustu Kaisen] | Gods and Mythology AU | Non-Canon/Canon Divergent.
Who?: Choso Kamo.
Synopsis: When Man was young, Gods were already old as old could ever be; having carried humanity into their history, and both wrote and rewrote the history of those who took their divinity and boons for granted.
The world, still, is young, but a toddler in comparison to the crucible of creation. And the Gods? They hold the power—ends and beginnings, order and chaos, annihilation and rebirth. Now what can we do but pray? Not for their favor, exactly, but to never cross their path.
But imagine, then, a union between them, forging a bastard boy who stood not entirely human and not wholly divine. That once-boy, of course, may not know entirely what he is, but he is certain of being ... Horribly, tragically, painfully A L I V E .
The mortals called him a demon, A CURSE . The gods called him an abomination. Both, both tried to forget him... Tried to destroy him. But he sustained, a being too human for a god and too divine to be mortal; he was caught in the in-between, a demigod of BLOOD, BALANCE & BEING , feared yet sought out for oaths and boons of protection.
Further Reading:
Choso is considered a Demigod [rather half god, half human — he is actually a bastard offspring, unwanted and believed to be cursed]; he is a half-God of Balance, Being, and Blood; however, humans see him as a God of Death, Fear, and Curses. Some speculate that these two distinctions are in coexistence within Choso—He can very well be and embody both, depending on what he must do and be. What people do agree on is that he is prayed to for PROTECTION.
His "epithets" include: "The Blood Beast", "The Blood Bastard", "Son of the Forbidden Womb", etc.
His divine essence is steeped in familial devotion, and those bound to him by blood or oath are guarded with a passion that borders on holy wrath.
Choso doesn’t fully belong; not to the world of men, nor to the world of gods. He exists in liminal space, a half-divine being tied to something primal and ancient. Thus, to mortals, Choso is a rare, approachable demigod. And he does not demand worship; he responds better to genuine grief and familial devotion, and acts of kinship or oath. To other gods, however, he is often seen as too emotional, too mortal in his concerns. He walks in temples but never kneels, and this makes him unsettling. He is respected, but never completely acknowledged.
He reacts strongly, instinctively, to the scent of blood [positive if someone under his protection, encouraging him into a state of vigilance; negative if someone else, coaxing hunger and ire].
Choso finds meaning in repeated, sacred actions, even mundane ones. He sees rituals [think: tea-making, stitching wounds, cleaning his space] not as a habit, but as a form of cleansing.
To ground himself or meditate, he silently counts his heartbeat or others’.
Choso feels uncomfortable in crowded spaces [too much blood, too many emotions, etc.].
