#nvictive

[ak4rin]

📱 help both me & satoru are curious,

[ninkaku]

  ▍ CASE FILE . . . GOJŌ, SATORU ⤻ @nvictive .

one pm, shibuya station. by a quarter past the hour they should have been back on the school grounds, awaiting meetngs for discussions that were ultimately bound to bore them to sleep. instead, they had decided to take a well needed, earned diversion into the arcades, organised through messages during their respective assignments within the city. dazai had been sent to tōkyō's technical college to avoid this specific sort of disappearing act, too comfortable slipping past supposed figures of authority for a few moments of blissful escape in his own solitude. in the outlook of dazai preferring his own company, they maybe thought that he lacked the knowledge of how to forge friendships, figured the isolation would do him well and force him to perform better in his studies, take more of an interest in the path laid out before him. though, in partial thanks to natural gravitation and a general likeness, he'd instead found himself in close ranks with those in his year. a fortunate falling into place for dazai, unfortunate for those higher and the plan they had concocted to try and keep him in check.

spotting the beacon of familiar, stark white hair and mirrored uniform atop the steps leading to the platforms below the station, dazai hopped the final two to join satoru on the pavement, letting go of a bone - deep sigh. “ uwaah . . . ” the clock above the station signalled his tardiness of ten minutes. “ couldn't ditch the manager fast enough. ” a few of the businessmen jogging to catch their trains had their eyes locked onto the pair's uniforms, likely wondering why two students were so far from the classroom at such a time. dazai's head turned to watch one of them descend the stairs, brows pinched and lips downturned, only turning back when the man stopped looking at them quizzically. “ tried telling her she isn't paid enough to babysit ... but she wouldn't have it. ”

[avichor]

❙⠀ ⠀ 𝒊.⠀ GOJŌ, SATORU.⠀⠀⠀.𖥔 ݁ ˖⠀⠀“⠀⠀you’re only asking me ‘cos your arms are too short for a good selfie angle.⠀⠀” ⠀⠀[⠀. . .⠀]⠀⠀@nvictive .

arms folded over his chest in defiance, brows furrowing into a bitter expression of a formed pout — one lift of his foot and impact over the pavement, and fumiya would be throwing an incredibly childish tantrum. but he only breathed in through his nostrils, jaw clenching the slightest as he forced the impassiveness through his expression, molten discs eyeing the sorcerer without so much of an upturn of his chin. “ first of all, rude. ” he shot him a glare as he stepped to the side, just another foot away from him and focused on the flickering sign of a convenience store where they'd been sent to track down another curse. an extended activity as part of the goodwill event, something - something about bonding and forging good relationships between the two schools. some poor version of a scavenger hunt. he could still feel the ache between his ribs from the tournament two days prior, the unexpected prolongation of their stay thrown onto the students last - minute. unlike his classmates, he didn't feel any resentment or hostility towards gojo or his teammate, just envy and reluctant admiration. “ second of all, rationally and logistically speaking, you'll get a better take than i do with this shitty phone camera. ” he tried to stabilize the shakiness of the flip phone's aim, squinting. “ and i want to win the prize for getting the most cases complete. i got a bet with my friend, kinda need to beat them. ”

[solrites]

@nvictive said: "it was all really complicated. i'll tell you all about it someday."

SOLVEIG, DESPITE WHAT ONE MIGHT THINK, IS NOT A MEDDLER. she doesn't tend to pry, won't try to get someone to open their mouth let alone try to yank their teeth open to get them to spill their guts. but she has so many questions, so it's understandable if it comes off that way. sometimes she asks so many, there's never a moment in time that one can be answered until she runs out of breath.

"WERE YOU SCARED?" this time, it seems to be the only question she has. maybe she knows it's a big question. asking for a deep kind of vulnerability - the kind that she's used to freely giving without a second thought or hesitation, because she's so full of it and finds sharing it beautiful instead of shameful or terrifying.

from what she knows about GOJO SATORU (who is different that Satoru, Her Best Friend Who She Loves Massively) - the powerful Other that is different than the Other she is, she doesn't think he'd ever be allowed to be afraid. then again, the only things she knows about Gojo Satoru are from things Satoru, Her Best Friend Who She Loves Massively, tells her briefly - when they share things that are scary and concern what they are instead of who they are. so solveig offers some kind of vulnerability first, even though it's different and smaller and she's allowed to live in trepidation and always has been.

"i-- i get scared of lots of things. i get afraid of the dark when it r-rains here so - so - so badly i sleep with the lights on. i'm scared of ticks and butterflies. one time a butter-butterfly landed on my head and i c-cried so hard i got a nosebleed. i probably would've been scared, then, too."

[chikoyama]

one of us is going to have to be bait. / i guess you know who satoru expects to be bait LMAO

The Devil in Me Prompts | Accepting

… Huh? Why? Why was Satoru looking at her strangely like that? Silence rolled over them, figurative crickets chirping quietly in the background as the younger girl took a moment to process it — his words, the inflection in his tone accompanied by a gaze that seemed to emanate a certain kind of expectancy from her.

Five long seconds it took the first-year student before it finally dawned on her what her senior suggested they do. Then, her eyes widened with realisation. “Me?!” Chiyori nearly cried out in protest, but managed to, last second, lower her voice enough to keep their hiding — they were crouched down behind an arbitrary bush — undetected by the group of Kyoto students searching for them.

With a silent but steadfast jolt of her body, Chiyori turned to face him. She was prepared to stand her ground in case he were to try coax her into it. Was Satoru really expecting her to willingly volunteer as bait? N-no way would she do that! Not with her current position in this goodwill event! That would simply be too risky, and Chiyori wasn’t going to put the few points she’d managed to scrape together all on the line just for that, especially not in the hands of her brash senior!

Sure, they needed someone to distract the Kyoto students, but… Chiyori turned away, jaw clenching… but if Satoru could manage to seize their flag and dash back to their own territory with it, then they would be declared as winners of this game. He was, after all, stronger and faster than her. Plus, she’d be able to secure her current spot on the scoreboard with some extra points to her name. Well, given that she could manage to survive long enough to not get caught and eliminated.

That would be a solid plan, wouldn’t it? There was a long pause as Chiyori considered. Though, she didn’t dare to turn her gaze back to Satoru — she could sense his intense stare on her. In silent frustration, she drove her nails into her palms. Eeeuuugh! She was going to be a pushover again now, wasn’t she? "F-fine!" She surrendered rather sheepishly before he could begin laying out any of his arguments to her.

[vesselmade-a]

satoru won’t lie : part of his gift would’ve only been possible thanks to nanami’s cooperation, somewhat surprised he’d entertain the more… spontaneous sort of ideas, even though a surprise party wasn’t all that unheard of for a child yūji’s age. still, it’d have to wait until evening ⸻ among the inevitable abundance of toys & sweets already prepared for him, six-eyes decides to offer him his own present in the meantime.

it’s far from extravagant or conventional, its value hardly likely to be properly grasped by the boy that’s still too young [ … ] but he’s quick to catch up on his knowledge of curses even outside of an environment that swarms with them. a talisman from one of his trips overseas, the most potent one in his arsenal to boot, tinkered with by none other than gojō himself to further strengthen its ability to keep even the most harmless of curses at bay. for the rare occasions he may not be around. sitting the boy down on one of his thighs, satoru makes quick work of tying it around the kid’s wrist & gives his hair a ruffle. “ ice cream & a movie of your choice? ...dad’s treat, of course ! ”

the  boy  had  been  brimming  with  excitement  all  week , eagerly  anticipating  the  20th  of  march — his  birthday. it  was  a  day  he  looked  forward  to  every  year , much  like  any  other  kid. while  gifts  held  little  allure  compared  to  the  cherished  moments  spent  with  his  dad  and  the  indulgence  in  sweets , he  relished  the  simple  joys  of  being  surrounded  by  loved  ones. despite  having  almost  everything  he  wanted , nothing  compared  to  having  his  father  by  his  side. he  was  a  modest  child , content  with  little , despite  his  abundance.

as  he  glanced  at  his  wrist , a  wide  smile  painted  across  his  face , his  eyes  sparkled  with  excitement. "  thanks , dad !  "  small  arms  wrapped  tightly  around  his  guardian's  neck , holding  on  with  a grip  stronger  than  intended , as  if  unwilling  to  let  go. yuji  believed  that  this  embrace  was  the  best  gift  he  could  receive  on  his  birthday. at  the  end  of  the  day , yuji  deemed  this  simple  moment  as  the  pinnacle  of  his  birthday  celebrations. with  boundless  energy , he  leaped  up , unable  to  contain  his  excitement , tugging  on  satoru's  sleeve. "  ice  cream  and  a  movie ?  "  he  practically  squealed , already  poised  to  dart  out  the  door  before  even  changing  into  something  new. "  this  is  already  the  best  birthday  ever !  " without a doubt this was something he said each and every year.

[qismet]

you put up a fight though, more than i expected. / seiko, during the exchange event !

despite their valiant efforts, treetops slashed and rocks exploded, seiko has still had the shit knocked out of them seven different ways, keeled over on the ground with their knees and palms in the dirt, bo discarded and connecting blades glinting in the sun. at gojo's words, words that sound like the beginning of a victory tour, they raise one hand, arm straight and index finger pointed towards the sky and waggling as though to say gimme a minute ! as they heave to catch their breath. once their lungs have stopped burning they push back to sit up on their knees, palms instead braced on their thighs as they stare up at the victor of their scuffle.

“ hold on . . . - ” words carried on a heavily exhaled breath, eyes widen with the internal thought that they're still tired, after what feels like minutes laying on the ground. seiko thinks they might vomit. taking on satoru gojo had been their idea, no short - straw to be drawn, but maybe they had been foolish expecting not to be drowning in their own sweat beneath the unrelenting summer sun. “ - . . . wait a sec. i'll get up and we can run it again, i can take you. i can so totally take you. ” they're not exactly sure who they're trying to convince with the words, but whoever it is, it isn't working.

maybe it's for the best that this event is only supposed to happen once a year, seiko doesn't think they could withstand this level of embarassment daily, idly thinks they should feel sorry for the other students enrolled at tokyo tech. they're a good sport where it counts, and truly don't mind being beat so long as the fight is worthy of the loss. this one, however, feels like it ended way too quickly. they gather themselves and rise to their feet, shaking off the imbalance as they collect the two halves of their bo and slot them together, twirling it briefly around their knuckles before catching it in their palm and holding it steady. “ you're insane, ” that much is echoed with a genuine sincerity, seiko is appreciative of the display of true power, simply also unwilling to let this go so easily, even if it means only aiding as a distraction while the kyoto students focus their attentions on the tasks at hand. “ but man, i don't think you'd last a solid two minutes if you had to lift a finger without those little gimmicks. ” realistically, seiko is all too aware that they don't match up nearly anywhere on the same scale, but this is the most fun they've had in weeks, it'd just be a shame to let it end so soon.

[ak4rin]

forget about me , just save them . / hi nina it's angst time

the exasperated groan his words pull out of her mouth shouldn't come as a surprise and yet akari can't help but wonder if satoru is trying to piss her off on purpose or has truly come out of that stupid box with all his brain gears rearranged. the end of her cane leaves marks on the ground when she leans her weight onto it - the taller man walking around at a pace she can't keep up with that easily anymore yet she's still stubborn enough to try and catch up. "you've been telling this shit to everybody today," it's not lost on her that itadori was rather shaken by the statement, akari silently agreeing because no child should be told that ... especially now of all times. "stop terrorising people, you're not dying, we're not forgetting about you." she doesn't mean to sound so harsh, but the reality of it all is that everything she's attempted to push away lately has come back multiplied like a boomerang - but she's not going to lose any more friends, that's for sure. "we're all going forward so shut the hell up. we are saving them."

[doueegezh]

" Say Satoru. " It's sudden, how he would look up from the book that had occupied his thoughts for some semblance of an hour or so, situated beneath the shade of a tree, escaping the scorching heat till it would finally cool down, till the sun would finally sink behind the horizon. About half a bell, maybe, looking at the various shades of reds, oranges, yellows, at least what he could ideally surmise now that whatever had settled in his mind, brought forth over a line of text or two he had just read and already forgotten again [ boring really, should he not just put it away? ], was something he found worthwhile to address his friend with.

" Have you eaten today? " Strange question, perhaps, but maybe not that much out of order. Missions abound and pressing on them more and more, it wasn't unlikely that he would forget to eat [ who of them? ], the pursuit of making sure that he wouldn't discard his health for whatever Society would want them to do, was something always so surely worthwhile to bring up. That's at the very least how he would explain it if inquired about. " We could go to Shibuya and see if we find a night market or a vendor's alley with food, no? " Would take them about half an hour to get there, a perfect time to have the world grow a bit darker, to sink a little bit deeper into cooler shades and softer lights, quieter moods, deafening surroundings that could calm agitated souls. Annoying, he should stop thinking that way. " How about it? " Could always say no, if he didn't want to. @nvictive 💕

[waraningyo]

@nvictive.

me when i get a taste of my own personality thru someone else:  GOD i can not STAND them

[solrites]

@nvictive said: "i thought you'd be more excited to see me."

HERE IS A LIST OF THINGS TZIPPORAH THINKS SHOULD BE BROUGHT BACK, IN NO ORDER: the guillotine, quartering someone in town square and throwing rotten produce at them, public lashing, and that one thing they did during the salem which trials where that farmer was accused of witchcraft and then had a heavy board put on him and was continuously weighed down with more stones because he refused to confess (more weight! more stones! tzipporah will never forget you, giles corey).

her head turns almost comically slow at the sound of his voice, and she's truly regretting the decision to WALK HOME instead of taking up eden's offer of a car ride today. great exhale through her nose, and for once - it's not just her face, she means to glower. in the back of her mind, she knows she's being a little unfair. the kind of extroversion that satoru seems to possess should remind her of her younger brother, who has historically never gotten on her nerves. then again, he's not her brother - just a strange man that invades her space and talks too loudly in a library.

her hands twitch at her sides, and if she was more immature, tzipporah would follow the urge to mime strangling herself in front of him. if she was more immature and a bit more mature in her meanness, maybe she'd lie to him and tell satoru that being actually routinely waterboarded is something she finds greatly more enjoyable over talking to him. but tzipporah isn't immature, and her anger isn't mature - she's not practiced with sharp words or verbal lashings. it wouldn't be true, anyways. and she's not a liar. so her hands stay by her side, and the worst she does is roll her eyes.

"please don't break your routine of NOT THINKING to think about me. it would be a tragic characteristic of yours to lose."

[chikoyama]

i can care about more than one thing at a time.

The Devil in Me Prompts | Accepting

The terrace itself spanned the entire level, its floor lined with wooden boards. Atop was a dark-tiled roof, one equally as large in size, probably to shield against the harsher weathers during Winter… or for decorative purposes — or both. If anything, pretty unremarkable for any buildings that took on the exterior of a temple.

At this time of the year, it was the season of Spring. That time when the flowers were about to unfurl their petals, to bloom. That time when the weather had become warmer too. More pleasant… and speaking of the weather, today’s had been quite agreeable, Chiyori would say.

Leaned over the railings, the young sorceress overlooked the architectural landscape of Jujutsu Tech. At the back of the horizon, the Sun was setting, distributing its remaining rays of light for the day. At the sight, a soft sigh escaped. For all its brutality, the school could be quite charming at times, she must admit.

With the wind seemingly at still, however, it was oddly quiet up here. Perhaps too quiet even — the kind of quietness that should’ve warranted a sense of foreboding in Chiyori if she hadn’t found herself located within the safe enclosures of the school. Almost like the calm before the storm.

Spending one last minute savouring the view, Chiyori allowed her eyes to drift shut, readily filling her lungs with air before fluttering her eyes open once more. Then, with her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, the sorceress turned away from the view.

Heading towards the stairs where her next mission awaited, she halted as her gaze landed on the sorcerer behind her. Calmly, Chiyori canted her head to the side, eyes quietly observing him in the same way he seemed to be observing her — when had Satoru emerged? He hadn’t been standing there for too long, had he? Nah, otherwise he’d have spoken earlier, the sorceress reasoned.

The conversation that followed was brief, their exchange terse and straight to the point. However, the unexpectedness of it was enough to cause Chiyori to appear mildly nonplussed. She’d never taken the six eyes for the caring type — not towards her at least, and not so directly.

Admittedly, his moral compass and intentions had always been slightly unclear to her. A bit of a goofball with his frivolous ways, really. Quite unfitting some would say, especially in a place where peers and sorcerers seemed to treat everything with a solemn attitude.

Whatever shifts he claimed that his six eyes had seen in her cursed energy, however... she couldn't exactly argue against it. Absorbing curses hadn’t come easily to her lately. At times it felt like she was choking, almost as if she was drowning in a sea of hands trying to pull her under.

Regardless, a wry smile stretched its way past her lips — for for all the magnificent abilities that the six eyes seemed to possess, she knew he didn’t have the one to read minds.

“Are you worried for me, Satoru?” Chiyori responded, head tilted to the side still, voice pleasant, though colored with the undercurrent of playfulness, perhaps in a subtle attempt to ease the tension. “Don’t you have enough to tend to?” Surely, there existed more urgent matters that required his attention.

Despite being proclaimed the strongest, there only existed one of him. That Chiyori was aware of, and she wasn’t selfish enough to claim the time of someone of such importance. Didn’t the strongest already have enough on his plate?

[kinoroi]

🎤 MUSIC SHUFFLE STARTERS + @nvictive !   ̖́-

❝ i stay in another dimension, ’ but betwixt the gaps of his soul and the next, there is a yawning chasm. bravery used to exist there. he thinks it's just cowardice now. still, he huffs out a sound that could be a laugh. he pretends. ‘ fear is non-existent. ’

[kimuromou]

what seems to be the problem? / mimi 🥺

Sitting out in the garden hugging her knees and picking grass blades, Mimiko isn't expecting anyone to come join her. Not her sister, not her guardian. Especially not her guardian's one and only.

She's still not used to him. It's too much, too many changes, and whilst she's usually the more quiet one between her and her sister, she can still have quite an attitude.

So, she frowns when Gojo-san comes to sit next to her when she's already not feeling great. She had a fight with her sister. As rare as they are, they can be rather intense sometimes.

No, she doesn't want to talk about it with Gojo-san who she doesn't fully trust yet. She trusts Geto-sama, and she accepts him because of him. That's as far as her regard for him goes... For now. Mimiko doesn't really know him, after all.

And when he asks what's the problem, she looks at him through the corner of her eye before looking back to the front, throwing the grass between her fingers into the air. It swings around unceremoniously in the air before landing somewhere between her feet.

« Nothing, » she says, a lie as clear as water.

[osaumu]

the summer heat threatened to swallow him, gentle breeze cooling beads of sweat between his brow, and legs cast out into the sunlight rapidly burning under his uniform though the upper half of his body stayed cool under the shade of the tree looming above them. a break between classes, back pillowed on the grass and arm outstretched, effortlessly tossing the ball stolen from the recreational space up into the air, careful gaze watching it land back into his own hand, aim perfected by the sheer amount of times dazai had repeated the action. silence interrupted by satoru's voice and with the distraction it offered, the ball missed his hand for the first time and hit him square in the face.

⅋ @nvictive . . . “ eternal peace is probably overrated. ”

in an instant he sat up, hissing as he rubbed the bridge of his nose and dropped the ball next to satoru's head, then scrunching his face at him at the notion itself. discussions surrounding that of mortality and the likelihood of the existence of heaven, perhaps hell beyond a life of duty and performance weren't often had, but when they arose it was an hours long affair, cartooned analogies and literary references twisted to make sense of the puzzle that was life itself. “ that's where your head's at? ” a scoff, tone heavy with faux exasperation, one hand sinking into the grass for dazai to lean back against as he pondered his answer. it came quickly. voice bare of any emotional inflection. “ it can't be overrated if it doesn't exist. at least not in a sense that anyone could even enjoy it. ”

in his mind, what he had decided was that death should have been a silent affair. either a black hole or a white void of emptiness. no feeling, no memory. just nothing. he hoped, anyway, as death that came with no strings attached was the only one that sounded appealing. none of that heaven or hell bullshit, waiting for loved ones on the other side, meeting the ones you'd already lost at the pearly gates and walking into eternity together. the way dazai envisioned it, sorcerers would be fighting curses into hell for generations to come, dead or not. a wholly disappointing farce that if he had anything to do with it, he wouldn't be involved at all.

“ buuuut ... ” tone lilting with vague amusement, dazai's free hand extended towards satoru, fingers wiggling almost menacingly. “ if you let me take a crack at touching that soul of yours, i can see about a few minutes of peace, if that's what you're really after. ” smile born from the jest etched onto his lips, the delicate shrug of his shoulder as though to ask why not? though if ever satoru agreed, dazai wasn't completely certain he'd able to fulfil his role in the act of testing whether his nullified touch could make a great person simply regular again. a displeasing assignment, because the idea of touching someone's soul, being inside of it at all, where a person meets what they're made of, sounded far too intimate for his liking.

[tsuiokuno]

you can handle this by yourself. / @ kusakabe hehe HELLOOO

talking yourself out of something / accepting

atsuya looks up to glare at gojo, not only for interrupting him, but also for what he said. “what the hell are you talking about? this is a mission for you. i'm just the messenger.”

well, the other isn't completely wrong. it's possible for a first grade sorcerer to handle this case—it probably would've gone to mei mei if she wasn't out of the country right now. but atsuya knows his own limit, and this is a bit beyond that, hence why yaga told him to pass it on to gojo.

@nvictive