#saiakv

[rake-rake]

@saiakv

"You really shouldn't be airing out your personal grievances on Megumi like that, Satoru. That's called trauma dumping." :/

(he's brought them like a glitter bath bomb souvenir from Kyoto to defuse the situation)

Unprompted.

"I've no idea what you're talking about. And I don't see how the way I raise my son is any of your concern. Do you truly have that amount of free time in your hands? Must be nice."

[b0kksu-gone]

   "Those scrolls existed long before you or I were even a thought. Why bother to continuously read them? They're not the originals as it is. They're duplicates, anything housed in Tokyo is most likely replicated - enough already, we should have dinner before our minds melt"

// @saiakv //(s.c.)

[ilbound]

@saiakv has requested a story : “Life is suffering. It is hard. The world is cursed. But still, you find reasons to keep living.” (  for verona uwu )

a prompt i lost.

In-between grueling hours of dealing with the flock ( those miserable mongrels , the lot of them ! always here to beseech for more , more , more & never with gratitude upon their foul tongues ) one might be treated to THE SOUND OF MUSIC .  For it is music , verily , which so soothes the soul and sates the heart.  Many a’time , people have been s t r u c k by it , caught standing in baffled wonderment as they pay thoughtful , reverent ear to the spirit of a melody haunting the halls and hollows , conjured by the enigmatic woman none daren’t get close to.

Never would one need to wonder where Verona goes throughout the day ; it is always the same , always to the music room Suguru bestowed upon her ( a place which has assuredly transcended by now , becoming its own realm beyond the compound ; always alive with some soul & rhythm ) .  And every so often does she find herself with welcome company.  Though this , a regrettably r a r e occurrence ( so it would seem , her reputation precedes her ; not even the curious were willing to risk crossing her path ) .  Today , no different than any other as she arrives – silent and sober – making due greetings and disappearing into her little world ‘til summoned or required.  There in the room , she acts as maestro , as with CAREFUL & KNOWING manner , picks proper the record and allows it to play ; by some strange magic ( or perhaps by own greater force of will ) , the music suffuses through the estate , touching all those who hear it.

It is sometime later , the woman is found in LANGUID REPOSE , sprawled out upon a chair much TOO SMALL for own person ; legs outstretched and notched together by the ankle , hands folded loose in her lap and head lulled back , expression entirely l a x , devoid of its usual smiling pretense.  She seems … Nearly h u m a n , in this moment , merely a woman in a state of earnest , quiet docility.  Her head perks upright when she senses Suguru’s gaze , the motion slow but as fluid as the flow of smoke.  Verona regards him , shadowed lids half-mast over silvery hues ; there is , of course , a strange tenderness in her look that is not there for others ( one she does not correct , one she does not think to hide ) .  Wordlessly , a clawed hand unfurls from its mate , beckoning him forward before she slips back into her resting slouch.

Amid the music , conversation transpires – easy , effortless – Verona replying in drawling , lazy commentary.  Until , of course , his remark catches her attention , prompts her to TENSE , her energy radically shifting from calm to a g i t a t e d .  Eyes close , breath drawn , then exhaled softly in heavy sigh.  Not uncommon is it for the two to broach touchy topics amongst each other , but⸺ ❝ I have come to understand that life itself can become a curse , and thus people – if not careful – can fall privy to that suffering , ❞ Head turns along shoulder , looking over at the younger man , expression guarded and tone melancholic , ❝ There was a time I thought myself beyond suffering , beyond humanity , and even I looked into the eye of Fate itself and LAUGHED — ❞ Her lips quirk upright , silvery eyes twinkling at the memory.  The mirth soon fades , dissolving into a frown , head turning away again , gaze distant.  ❝ — But no-one is beyond it.  Not even us.  And what might we do , then , if the life we wish to cherish takes away our reason for living at all … ?  What can be done if … ❞  Her voice becomes strained , her expression pained , the next words out of her mouth the FIRST GLIMPSE behind the veil of her mystery , coming out as whisper he might have to struggle to hear , ❝ … If not even death can grant salvation ? ❞

[mindsafe]

🍐 &  🍋 for nanako please, if you feel like it ! uwu

@saiakv || from [X] || OPEN

🍐  : how intelligent is my muse overall?  are they smarter than the average person,  or less than?  are they primarily self-taught,  or did they acquire most of their knowledge in school?  are they more street smart or book smart?  

it's difficult to quantify something as complex as intelligence, especially with someone like nanako, whose authenticity makes for either the best or worst first impression. it is easy to mistake her as someone vapid, shallow, && irresponsible ( && at times she can be all of those things ); but she is also someone imaginative, witty, && resourceful.

nanako has undiagnosed//untreated adhd && is prone to bouts of forgetfulness, flightiness, impulsivity, && emotional outbursts. unfortunately, adhd is rarely recognized in japan, && treatment options are limited due to a ban on certain prescriptions; there is also a stigma on mental health. for the most part, nanako functions well enough, && her ability to hyperfocus on the things that interest her make her a fast learner, but only when interested.

unlike her sister, nanako is more ❛ right-brained ❜ : she is creative, emotional, and extremely intuitive. she also has a natural photographer's eye, && is able to find/notice good photo opportunities from the world around her.

her upbringing was unconventional, however geto went to great lengths in seeing to his girls' education. like any other girl her age, nanako would go to school, attend her classes, && come home. she would often daydream, && as she matured, occasionally would cut classes && go shopping instead. her favourite classes are physical education, music, art, && home economics; her least favourite classes are mathematics && social studies.

nanako is definitely more ❛ street smart ❜ than she is ❛ book smart ❜. she knows the various types of people that exist && how to manipulate deal with them. she knows how to fake tears when in crisis, how to effectively haggle, && how to avoid being taken advantage of ( if anything she'll take advantage of you ).

🍋  : what kind of diet does my muse have?  do they eat regularly,  or the standard 2-3 meals a day?  do they have to be reminded to eat,  or are they likely to remind others?  do they cook,  or have others cook for them?  do they eat healthily,  or not so much?  

in her earliest years, nanako only knew the food of her village: rice, bread, seasonal vegetables, && trout, but she scarely remembers it; nor does she want to; she remembers being captured, tortured, && starved by her own people. trauma has made her grateful for the food she is given, but an isolated upbringing ( ? ) makes her all the more keen on culinary adventures.

she has a diverse palette but she cannot be pried away from dessert food: crepes, cakes, && every pastry imaginable. she follows food bloggers/influencers on social media for any suggestions of new places to visit or street food trends to keep an eye out for.

that being said, despite her fiery personality, spicy food doesn't agree with her stomach; she can tolerate mild/medium levels of spice, but will rarely be seen adding any extra hot sauce or partaking in any relevant ❛ challenges ❜. she'll watch videos of OTHER people partaking in said challenges, however.

lactose intolerant : (

usually geto provides dinner, either by cooking for the family, or indulging her in money to visit the newest ramen bar. she can follow a recipe && make basic meals without help: soba noodles, onigiri, omurice, etc. but she ( unsurprisingly ) prefers baking. pre-measured ingredients that leave little room for failure && a method that's generally less complicated, as long as she remembers to set a timer. she makes delicious cookies, cupcakes, && cake rolls. the biggest challenge is making sure she cleans up!

[zangyo]

oneliner sc || @saiakv

❝I didn't think I'd see you here of all places.❞

[furiaae]

@saiakv continued.

"Help?" Asteria's head tilted to the side out of confusion and her hands rested delicately on her hips. "I don't need help with whatever...symptoms you believe me to have." She said, though paused to take a glance down at herself as if expecting to see some sort of issue only he seemed to see.

"I wanted to join you." Asteria said as though it was the most simple conclusion in the world. "To them we're monsters, right? That's why I said what I said." She paced slowly in front of the bottom stair as her eyes remained focused up at him. "I want to help you accomplish what you've set out to do, Geto."

[rivalsunraveled]

"Wow, pretty lucky that they got a special grade to teach at each school, huh?"

Despite Todo's enrollment in the Kyoto school, Yuki doesn't visit it any more often than she does the Tokyo school. She might even visit less, since she can get any important updates she needs from that campus from Todo. But hearing about Geto starting to teach there sparked her interest.

"So, Geto, what kind of women do you like?"

// @saiakv

[hunting-songs]

❝ Oh no, thank you but I do not partake in such gambles myself. ❞ The curse user dismisses an offered wager with a wave — affiliative smile unfaltering all throughout this secret meating. The restaurant around them is dimly lit. Crowded just enough to throw off any final suspicions Senritsu may have had before taking up his offer, but not to overshadow their hushed conversation.

❝ Call it a superstition, if you like. Besides, you are here to investigate the topic yourself, correct? ❞ Of course, lesser minds see the tree but not the forest; the curse that transfigured her. While the ambassador accompanying her tonight has mysteriously gotten stuck in a conveniently placed traffic jam after a fire broke out ( ah, Jogo gladly lent them a hand for tonight ) Kenjaku leans a little closer, his head tipping just enough for violet eyes to burrow into the intricacies of her form.

❝ I hear you are interested in a certain curse that has surfaced. ❞

She could hear the cooks in the restaurants kitchen yell. She could hear every single clicking of chopsticks in the restaurant. She could hear the dust carried in by the visitors shoes swirl up loud like a sandstorm whenever a waiter walked over it. Behind Senritsus forehead was a headache throbbing harder at every whisper of a sound around her and she felt herself flinch just so slightly when the curse-user waved a hand with so very charming smile: "Ah did you heard that? Interesting, I could have sworn that hearing about something is usually my metier." She had sat seven hours in a car from Pellworm to Berlin, had sat three hours in Berlin a at the airport waiting for her flight, she had sat fifteen hours in a plane to Tokyo and now she sat here with her back feeling as if her bones had grown spikes. Uncomfortably Senritsu adjusted her position on the chair just so little, even if it did not gave any balm to the ache throbbing in every part of her skeleton. She grimaced quietly, just for a sweet smile to shoo away that grimace. Her short fingers tapped against her ear knowingly.

"Like I am hearing you now sitting beside me, your clothes rustling animando at every breath because you happen to be curious and attentive and keenly focused as anyone with a scientific mind would be when meeting something they are curious about, yet-" She lifted a finger like a teacher and than carefully let that finger dance through the air to a melody in her much too keen ears: "-there is a tension in your muscles hearable in the way your cloth rustle at every move. As if there is a mhmmmmm...." grieved, distressed, desperate. The words lay on her tounge like stones, unable to be spoken, pressing down her tounge. The lines where her skull had been crushed like glass and wrongly mended back together throbbed. Senritsus hestiated only for one second, barely noticeable at all: "- appenato resistance of your body to what you want it to do. As if the body tries to work against you just so little. Almost estinto, but still there."

"You heard that little thing about me and yet you are here singing me such a mhmmm" the stones were there again, the words were stuck in her throat like a clot making it hard to breath. There was a frustrated line appearing between the womans big eyes, but it was only there for a second and eventually she only shaked her head slowly over her own frustration when she should already know better: "...fortissimo and telling orchestra. Maybe you let me hear first what your name is, mhmmmmmm?", Senrisus smile was as innocently as she was not: "Your true name, of course. Lies are very loud and you would not want to be loud in a restaurant, yes? That would not be polite." [ @saiakv ]

[rake-rake]

@saiakv

“I’m not afraid of death, I think it’ll be peaceful.” ( for MIGUEL !! )

Late night.

Miguel snorts, nearly chokes. Head thrown back as he bellows a cackle without any care for covering it up, or even pretending to have a hint of shame or decorum.

"You think you're going somewhere peaceful after you die? You?! No way!" He claps his knee, thumb sliding under his sunglasses as if to wipe a tear. He just heard the best joke ever uttered in history, "Right, of course. Just make sure to pack up for warm weather- pffff!"

[b0kksu-gone]

      “Did  you  have  a  name  before  this  one  or  was  it  always  the  same?  I'm  curious,  you  rarely  speak  of  a  time  before  this  life, @saiakv”

[ilbound]

@saiakv has requested a story : ❰❰ PIN ❱❱ sender pins receiver during a fight/training  ( for verona ♥ )

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Through the ages , up until rather recently , the Valhyr clan was INFAMOUS for its cursed techniques , for the powerful progeny it produced.  These women sought p e r f e c t i o n in their craft , but in turn , near-completely neglected other necessary areas of a proper training regime.  Many of them , even the council and foremothers ( namely the matriarchs ) , did not endeavor to teach their rising generations much in the way of combat ( tell me , what use is learning a man’s art of brawling sport , when we can simply dismantle an opponent from the mind outwards ? they questioned , conceited & all too set in their ways ) .  And it soon became apparent that Verona made for a prime example of such ; for all her training , for all the resources granted unto her as a ‘ prodigal daughter ’ , she had very little understanding of TRUE BATTLE beyond demonstrations of barbaric force and slaughter.

She confessed , of course , to Suguru , outright admitting to her vanity.  There’s no use for it , she had told him in passing , I need it not , for no man withstands the maw of a woman ripping his throat and uprooting his mind.

A challenge it was not.  At least , she did not THINK it was , until he countered the supposed gauntlet with one of his own : an offer to put her mettle to the test , to train her and allow her the ability to learn something new.  After all , who’s to say you cannot teach an old dog new tricks ?  Even if this particular breed be especially s t u b b o r n .

Not one to be outdone , she accepted ( though the instant the words left her mouth , she could tell it was a mistake , it was a losing battle & one she did not know whether she was prepared to face ) .

It made for a quick enough fight.  For as strategic as Verona is , her attacks were all ferocity , all brute force and none of the marked precision necessary to keep pace with someone who knew better.  Every strike is easily parried , easily countered and thwarted , her erratic savagery becoming as predictable as any predator being backed into a corner and growing increasingly f l u s t e r e d .

This is not the first time Verona has been confronted with the severe neglect in education which has left her straggling behind others.  But it IS the first time she has been shown it so d i r e c t l y , by someone she holds trust and respect for.  She is not sure what is it that wounds her more ; her fraying composure in the face of own fallacy , or the fact a MAN has gotten the better of her , laying her out on her back and pinning her there on the mat.  Breathless , grasping for some semblance of control over the situation ( not that the knowing smile curling suguru’s lips helps her any ) , Verona groans softly , claws digging furrows at her sides in f r u s t r a t i o n , sharp teeth bared and form tense as if to spring once more.  Fighting is typically so SIMPLE for her , and now this ⸺ O' how the mighty do fall !  Literally , in this case , left there scowling up at her companion with ire writ plainly upon her features.

Scorn soon fades as she expels a sigh , eyes rolling.  ❝ Yes , fine , very good , ❞ Verona drawls sardonically , though her biting tone does nothing to hide the b a r e s t twinge of praise hidden beneath , ❝ Would you like me to say you are the better of us ?  Afraid my pride’ll not allow it. ❞  Mistake her not , there is an affection there , an admiration for his skill over her own.  After a moment she adds , ❝ Anyone ever tell you you HIT LIKE A GIRL ? ❞  Odd as it is , this is a c o m p l i m e n t , given her heritage and sense of superiority.  ❝ And I must confess , I am not much used to this view , ❞ Being beneath anyone , she means.  Her head tilts , painted lips twisting into her usual coquettish little smile , ❝ I suppose I might be convinced to enjoy it , though. ❞

[b0kksu-gone]

             The heart is but an immaculate tumor, one must rid themselves of it, though it ceases to bring forth salvation && ease. God, they speak of an ancient proverbial being that transcends the limitations of time && space, forever is the term that is spoken when the cry forth his name, forever is the weight one must endure && suffer. Why must he think of Godhood now? In the tousled sheets his mind is adrift, where it usually is vacant, a pleasant numbness that spreads. Long limbs, spindle, with a finesse as the ridges of a scar resemble the aftermath - violent red, cracked skin, where the flesh was severed then pulled together once more. Satoru doesn’t linger on the previous battles, victorious, that was the only way even if the sacrifice came with physical ailments. A view that is cast aside, refusal to gaze upwards, bashful - it’s an unknown word but his heart is beating rapidly.

      To flee, far from this realm that demands, what more could they want? The hunger of the masses was endless && he was the flesh that would be consumed, till nothing was left. Consumption that comes in a kiss, drunk && delirious off the emotion that trickled into his veins, better than any wine, he loathed this weakness. Heritor of the Six Eyes, they bicker amongst each other, furious souls that were deemed to be graced by the Heavens themselves. Each one, the Gojo Clan spoke with a fondness, different from the last. Velvet neatly tied together now loosened, the soft laughter of veiled faces that listened to his incessant ramblings, it was a high honor to garb their precarious lordling. Gone where the days short locks adorned his crown, in the midst of the hierarchy, those who sit high on the throne shall dress themselves in Gold && rivulets of Ivory. Perhaps, he was just tired of the modernity, an old man fondly reminiscing on wasted youth.

          Swaying, the windchimes billow a soft melody && he can’t recall when the trinket was hanged out of this private lodge, home far away from the main complex of the sprawling estate. From the snow where they crafted their beliefs, its purity is shattered && he longs for deception, no longer to see the truth that greets him, tormenting each waking moment. There should be cups of cider && chaotic bickering amongst elders, servants, pillars of the family that await on him cooing that his presence brings life, isn’t it wonderful? Instead, he is hiding with an intruder. Each tap against slender bones causes his skin to goosebump, finally, his gaze is direct. It pierces deep && there is a trespasser offering the lull of honey caresses, one he does not fight. Forever is a tiring prospect, even if this corporeal form shall wither && decay, he will emerge once more - in a crowd or perhaps chance meeting, eyes that are familiar, eyes that never waver, even if there remains one. They would replay this moment, again, again, till time itself no longer existed.

             “You move too fast” the coy remark escapes, laughter oozing from his pout, bruised from the abundance of their mouths moving together. Languid, lazy, smoke that enters the lungs coiling around each but, he tastes of ginseng candy && lychee - devilishly boyish. There, he falters, stumbling at the midst of tenderness as his cheek presses against calloused palms. A missing eye was just that, the appendage served no connection to the spiritual form, yet was another mark against the body. Extravagant, there was no price to be spared in a prosthetic that glistened in a diamond sheen, prismatic && eerily belonging. It nearly causes him to weep, vulnerability that was rarely given now on display. The thin fabric of his robe threatens to fall from fragile-boned shoulders, he doesn’t mind, modesty was lost on mortality. Slender legs that pull closer, molten && husky his laughter rings as it wishes to be nonchalant, careless in mannerism, yet it wasn’t so.

          “I would believe it, each one resembled a difference but sought the same impossible goal, we’re ever greedy creatures that won’t stop” was another heritor that naive? To allow such danger into the very bed? Yes, they longed more than anything to feel a semblance of reality that was far from that of divinity.  He’s devilishly cheeky, sitting upright on both elbows, mounds that peak through && the near gutting on display. Fingers that hook the fabric beneath threatening to tug && rid himself of it, not yet, he wouldn’t give in that easily. “In that lifetime did they allow you such dominance? I prefer to be on top, this position is impossible” he truly could be nothing short of a brat, mischievous smile, dimpled && lined with the passage of time.

                      “Recount each story, my mind is but a blur - you cannot lie to me, either way, we’ll use the bed as an altar for confession” 

From x. | @kuraokcmi

We beings here assembled, whether terrestrial or celestial, salute the Accomplished Buddha, honoured by gods and men. May there be happiness! — Ring. —

CLAD IN SILK THAT ALLUDES TO LAVISH HOSPITALITY — battle-scarred skin that should not be ( there was naught but void where this arm once grew from once; now every fibre of dense muscle has been rebuilt into a meaty pauldron ) brings forbidden warmth to the mountain's peak. There, it coils around eternal frost like a serpent carrying the Sacred Flame, each heartbeat resonating through pebbled skin as their limbs entangle and claim all attention of the physical eye. The ridges between his shoulders roll languidly as a prowling tiger when he shifts to hover atop the lying demigod — an ethereal being captured in this mortal flesh; does he even know the reason why his question has brought a curl to Kenjaku's lip?

❝ Do you wish to escape? ❞ Teeth leer over his lips; parted to welcome the poison, innocently. ❝ Being on the run gets lonely, I'd wager. ❞ He nuzzles, dares let his fingers venture to undo the bind that holds thick white in place, run them through his mane and marvel upon the crafted beauty of his bloodline. Crafted; to perform this certain task. The sixth eye lended to them as the proverbial flame was to man so long ago — there are many versions of this story.

Or do they still delude themselves that the secret, the gift they hold was a blessing rather than a curse? No, not him; Kenjaku deducts, from the way thin brows furrow with that unspoken desire to be free; he has seen the light. He has felt the weight placed upon his shoulders. He knows that he was made to protect them -- but he knows not from whom. From what.

In the alluring peace of this tranquil morning, a crime is commited in a font of white pure as snow. Satoru Gojo's thoughts are stolen simply with a breath that falls tenderly over plush pink. A tender bristle of Kenjaku's fingerpads counts the honored one's ribs —reminding him, that in spite of the legacies they carry, they are still grafted to this mundanity. They exploit the sultry tenderness that had made a home in this man's throat; easy to invoke when his voicebox was already so thickly coated with unspoken yearning. Each word placed between them; another tap of the pawn on the proverbial shoji board. Like a wolf's maw watering over the lamb, he hovers — and they both know this is a willing slaughter. For one wishes to take; the other, to be taken.

Yet, Satoru Gojo no longer fits within that little pond of fish where the immature hearthrobs of a first love would once sway his tail to keep swimming. He has grown; into a killer whale that haunts the waters. Would it be any salve to the grief over his lost humanity, if he was gifted a seal to chase? A seal that leads his tail to ripple, to flap, until the water no longer flows in one direction — a chaos-maker, world-breaker that sees the boy and the God in tandem and with a finger to the chin points the seer's gaze to a certain direction ?

Careful now ; the Buddha eye warns them. There are six of us and one of you. And yet I know you all by name; the onmyoji's silence answers.

Ah, thick lashes flutter, realizing the hollowness that has taken over their own expression. They must have gotten lost in the nuances of his ceruleans. The tone grows somber. Nature holds its breath to watch them conspiring on the futon and the snow begins to settle. The hand that was seized remains folded in his grip; dark hair slip from the curvature of broad shoulders and dangle like silken tendrils over the heave of a fluttering chest. Bolder still, the intruder

❝ You say that -- but there is a name on your lips, already. Perhaps I should remind you — ❞ That insurmountable distance between him and the man who used to live in this mind is closed within a blink. He bestows upon the chosen one the aftertaste of bitter coffee & tobacco, caramel notes that fade into musk. It's a momentary connection, enough for neutrons to snap, for the spice to set his captive's nerves alight. And like a spider sampling his prey, he licks his own lips with a hum and mulls over what slice of heaven he just tasted. He reaches out, combs silver away from that last sealed eye that can pierce through the veil of reality itself — open, the gleam in his gaze calls. He kisses him again.

❝ And what if I told you now that we have made the flame tremble with our union before — in another lifetime ? ❞

[sixlimit]

metancy . noun . the state of changing one's life . ( metanoia & "cy" . )

❝ ... ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀʏ , ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴇ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ . ❞

Independent , highly selective , & private multimuse featuring gojo satoru & more , studied by Amu ( 21+ ) beware triggering themes such as , but not limited to : horror & terror , cannibalism , war , murder , body horror / mutilation , suicide , and death as per the nature of jujutsu kaisen & other forms of media . This blog is drama & harassment free: you will never see callouts here or any form of active discrimination from the writer. This is a safe space. This is a blog on permanent semi - hiatus for mental health reasons.

interest checker.

┊ ┊ ⋆˚  affiliated with @madestars , & @kam0s , @diuvus & @saiakv ! ⋆˚ ┊ ┊

Temporary rules below.

I'm Amu, 25+! The regular rules apply, you know, no godmodding or metagaming, no shipping with minors both irl and ic, and I do not take responsibility for the curation of your experience here. You don't like something, you unfollow me, end of story and we drop it there like adults. I have a current muse list of the following until I can get down to bothering with coding: Primary: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Yuji Itadori, Sukuna (JJK), Makima (CSM) Secondary: Megumi Fushiguro, Yuta Okkotsu, Yuki Tsukumo, Maki Zen'in, Mai Zen'in, and Choso Kamo (JJK), Nezuko Kamado, Giyuu Tomioka ( KNY), Akira Kurusu (Persona), Dazai Osamu, Chuuya Nakahara (BSD), Anna Kushina (K) Tertiary: Neku Sakuraba ( TWEWY) All general triggers will be tagged, and if I miss something, feel free to tell me! I have no triggers, and am very rarely bothered. I ship with one version of one character. If I ship X with Y, I will only ship X with Y unless Y seeks to break it off or I do in the future. Multiship for all the adults, cute crushes and hand holding and cheek kisses for the minors, and no I will not be writing sexually explicit content here. I am not interested in it. That's to say with exceptional chemistry, I can bend these rules. I will 9 times out of 10 not follow first. The anxiety gets to me, you know? Anyway, please check out the interest checker, look around, and let's get to know each other! My discord is available on request for plotting and talking! ♥️ I also have an aesthetics blog for the characters here, tagged with their names at @kuepiko

[rivalsunraveled]

@saiakv (for geto's teacher verse!)

It's his first day at the Kyoto school of Jujutsu High. Joe already excels at hand-to-hand and fighting with cursed tools, but when it comes to his technique, so far people are reluctant to agree to let him use it in practice. That's fine by him; it's only the first day and his technique isn't really usable against curses, only humans. And Joe doesn't particularly want to fight people, if he can avoid it.

Still, it's been a long day, trying to get to know both classmates and teachers. When he has free time, towards the evening, Joe finds somewhere outside to sit down, strumming on his guitar. He stops abruptly when he sees one of the teachers coming by, dipping his head.

"Sorry, sensei," he signs. "Am I disturbing anyone?"

[hunting-songs]

What type of villain are you? There is much evil in the world, and sometimes we like to be part of that evil. i'll tell you exactly what kind of monster you are! Tagged By: A little Wildbirdie! Tagging: @bewitchingbaker @skarletchains @kylo-wrecked @kiigan @muddsludge @zealctry @YEONBAN @distortedkilling @gyofukuki @lightfaithed @saiakv @uzumakiuser ...AND YOU !

Your Result: For the Greater Good Perhaps you do not believe what you are doing can truly be classified as evil. Perhaps some people will be hurt from the immediate consequences of your actions, but what the masses fail to see is the immense good that will come of your plans. Maybe you act in the name of science, or for your people who have fallen on great tragedy. Maybe you see cracks in a failing system and want to uproot it through chaotic, destructive means to avoid greater tragedy down the line. Maybe you're just in with a bad crowd, but you can't leave them, no matter how unsavory their intentions, because they're your only ticket to your ultimate goals. No matter what, your goals are noble, and you take no joy in wreaking havoc or hurting those in your way, but the evils you partake in are necessary. If you need to play the bad guy to ensure a better future, then you are willing to play that part.

Leorio had told Kurapika about this kind of Hunters "Everyone hates this kind of hunters. They have no honour or pride. They are just dogs out for a petty reward." to warn Kurapika from going down this path, but Senritsu, Linssen and Basho are all this kind of Hunters. Its naturally that Senritsu is a character we see out of Kurapikas POV and she is gentle and helpful to him as a charater we as readers root for, but not seen from Kurapikas POV she would indeed be this kind of Hunter and she is very aware of it and also very aware in what kind of light this puts her: "I chose this job because I thought one devil would know another.". Still, she chose this job and she did not hestiated to dive into the Mafia world to reach her goals. From outside, Senritsu is exactly the kind of Hunter with a very, very, very bad name.

[zangyo]

❝I DID.❞ AND HE had held very little desire to come back. After graduation, he had wanted nothing to do with being a sorcerer, and maybe, if fate had been different, he would have still remained right where he was: a salaryman – miserable, but comfortable. So, he supposed when viewed from a different lens, it was odd that he had returned to all this when he had been so adamant about avoiding this life. But that wasn’t important right now. Out of everyone he could have encountered, he had not expected him to be here. ❝The details don’t matter.❞ A pause. ❝Why are you here? I had heard that you were in hiding?❞

❝ Although it's great to see you, I'd argue I have more of a reason to be after this grade one than you do. I'd heard you quit, Nanami. What happened? ❞