#parieha

[frostbounddevotion]

Uraume and Sukuna Origin AU

@parieha Starter for Sukuna

      A popular miseya, Gekkatei, was located by a travelers stop. Foreigners, aristocrats, poets, and scholars were common folk among its patrons. Many raved about its food, as it was well spiced, fresh, and harbored a taste no other miseya could replicate. Secrets to the technique remained a secret with its owner, who happened to double as Gekkatei’s head chef. 

       Focused servers and cooks work diligently to keep their valued guests comfortable and satiated. Gekkatai was crowded, moderately loud, and lively in the late afternoon. Chit chatter became a symphony of overlapping conversations,and entertainers played their music, furthering the social ambience. 

       Beyond the bar in the back, a unique individual was giving orders to their subordinates. Their snowy bob elegantly swayed with every movement, and their simple unextraordinary yukata fell elegantly on their frame.

      Hot pink eyes scan for all incoming guests walks 

A new guest approaches the bar. The curse energy was overwhelming, pushing away the presence of all the other guests. The pressure pushed against the owner. Despite the guest’s intimidating presence, delicate lips pull to a smile.

          “Welcome to Gekkatei. Take a seat and let us entertain you. One of my attendants will serve you promptly.”

[cvrseduser-a]

continued for @parieha

It was their first year as classmates, their first semestre even, and very slowly Suguru could feel his relationship with Satoru strengthening into a proper bond. At first he hadn't been too keen on him, honestly, but the more time they spent together and the more he picked up on his antics, it became evident to him that he wasn't as bad as he seemed. 

And it was the same for him, really. It seemed to him like the taller boy was slowly realising that he wasn't a goody-two-shoes like he tried to present, despite his earnest diligence as an exemplary student.

So what if he had taken a peek at Gojo Satoru's profile ? Yaga-sensei should be more careful not to leave those kinds of documents on top of his desk if he didn't want prying eyes snooping around. Suguru liked knowing things, and it wasn't his fault this information had been almost laid out for him to look at. 

« I had a feeling you wouldn't let me live this one down if I missed it, » he said easily and with a light shrug of his shoulders. « Whatever kind of food, whenever you're feeling like it. Just for today, of course. » Poor Suguru, so unaware of what the future held for his wallet.

[shiiikigami]

@parieha !

the little boy was exhausted. beaten down. he didn't know how long he'd been in this room, his hands bound by thick rope, a bit in his mouth that was hand painted with seals. cursed seal papers plastered to his markings and tied along the muzzle straps for good measure, as if they'd been frightened of any errant syllables he might have spoken.

they told him that he deserved this. that he'd killed the little boy he'd been playing games with. he hadn't meant it... he was barely eight years old, how could he have meant it? he'd run out of tears to cry, uncertain as to what they wanted to do with him - though he had an awful feeling he might never leave this room, or .... he didn't want to think about the other thing.

his shoulders were starting to ache terribly, and he couldn't even find a way to sit back. he was trying his hardest to squirm a little, to get some feeling back into his wrists when he heard a commotion outside, unfamiliar sounds nearby. he grew very still, hunching back from the door as if fearful that they were coming to make his already awful situation much worse.

[s1lentlamb]

 a very bright night , moonlight irritating his sight . gojo would stay up hours after their bedtime to play on his phone , the pale night reflecting against the dark glasses of his shade . he let the kids have the single room inside the house , they share it and gojo shares the whole living room and the television with nobody . ' nu uh , you guys can't watch tv at night . it'll make you go blind . ' or some excuse he'd use that megumi would ultimately roll his eyes at . it's chilling , how similar he is to his father . [ @parieha ; MEGUMI ] hears the bare feet against the carpet before he sees megumi , or before he silently tugs on his shirt to get his attention . ❛ boy bo y boy . isn't it waaay past your bedtime ? tsk . ❜ he says , and doesn't sound angry about it . instead he sits up from the ground ( the couch is too stiff , his futon is softer and he can see the stars from the balcony window ) . a soft sigh of exhaustion leaves the teen , one hand rubbing his eye before he takes his shades off to flash the kid a warm grin . ❛ gojo satoru . at your service . how can i help you , sir ? ❜

       ──   plotted starter.

[deathfavor]

@parieha from here ( if you want !)

If she's unconvinced by his response, or otherwise finds him to be faking, the goddess offers no hint of it. On the contrary, she just gives an amused laugh, blood red lips ever grinning like a cheshire cat overseeing a field. " Business associates? " Her head cocks to the side, pondering the implication of it. It's a mortal term, this much she knows. It is not uncommon though among the gods either. " Sure. I guess business associates can work as a term for it. Although I feel its more business for you and fun for me. " Neither of which seem to be a problem in her eyes. " Considering proper business etiquette involves a temple visit technically. Although I've never really been a stickler for those rules. Only the ones mortals purposefully trample on that evoke my wrath and rain down blood from their slaughtered cities from the skies for a few days. " People were all too forgetful that gods could be just as cruel as the monsters they feared.

[komvrebi]

most people would look at the day they had just spent at the beach, at the aquarium, and think they had a lovely vacation. and while it was true, this mission was unlike any other, it was still a mission. it still required work. and truly, getou was tired.

and he knew, for as tired as he was, gojo was all the more tired. satoru hadn't slept once since they'd picked up this mission, and he was running infinity almost constantly. suguru tried to approach him about it, but he simply wasn't having it.

he had to find some way to get through to him, to get him to relax, even if for only a moment. but he just wasn't sure what approach would work best.

suguru grabbed some snacks and headed back to their hotel room, quietly opening the door so he wouldn't awake riko or kuroi. he sat down on the bed next to gojo and gave him a small smile, pushing snacks into his hands. "are you sure you don't want to sleep for a little while? i'll stay awake. i promise."

@parieha

[deathleadsarc]

gojo vc ........ hmm , imagine that ~ 🎶

Are You Her Type?

" You are very lucky I can't pull your ear off! " she is absolutely reeling in several puffs of disbelief. what sort of prank is at play where he could be so aligned to her finely hidden desires in a life-partner! " Stop being so smug! "

[earthssprout]

🌼🐌 @parieha liked for something small ! // ( tiny starter call // no longer accepting ! )

" MMM … MISTER HAS LO … LUH … HAS LOTS N' LOTS OF SNOW, " Since it was a rather funny thought—especially when said aloud—little Ari couldn't help but laugh. It was a genuine sort of laugh, one that comes up from the belly and right out the mouth, and showed just how thoroughly entertained the child was by something so simple. 

As Ari was kept stable by Gojo's secure hold, her little hands gently played with his hair, eventually causing a few white clumps to stick up here and there. 

" is mmm … is mister's name fro … Frosty, please? "

[withsorrowandregret-archive]

@parieha​

𝐀 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒  .    a smile  ,    void of any human qualities  ;    no substance  ,    a blank sheet of paper  alike a newborn yet to be nurtured in the unspoken rules of society  .    light as a feather  ,    a direct portrayal of the concept artificiality    ━━          his face fails to give an impression of belonging to a living human being  .    long  ,    slender limbs were draped over the couch  ,    lazily  ,     lack of intention to move a single inch oozing from his every fibre  .    amber hues settled upon the fiery ginger  ,    the noise radiating from the small silhouette a pollution to the peaceful twilight of self - decepriative thoughts    &.    actions  .    a dramatic  ,    non - committal gesture was made to dismiss the ginger and be freed of both mori’s unbidden requests    &.    the existence dazai loathed so much  .   ❝     chuuya  ~    i am skipping today’s mission   .    be a good dog and do it on your own  ,    will you  ?    ❞   

[nonhumen]

@parieha : liked for a beast

you must never go to the orphanage, atsushi-kun. ever since uttering those words, dazai knew that one day he would find him there. the seed had been planted and the boss needed to only water it with the blood of hundreds. eventually, the tiger would get bold enough and would seek to erase its past. dazai sympathizes -- his own family name lost to the dirt and the mud -- but he knows that the blood that raised him will do nothing to soothe that void in his chest. and that's precisely the point.

the blood is so thick in the air that even dazai feels like he might choke. limbs and guts and appendages paint the floor and walls like a child's art piece. pity, dazai concludes he can't keep his shoes clean this time. it is deathly quiet save for the squelching of carnage under dazai's feet. the rest of his entourage stays outside; no one dares come closer. besides, only the boss of the port mafia can calm the beast now.

the massacre runs through the entire complex and ends at a closed door. what a horrid way to die: locked in a room with a vicious tiger of dazai's own creating. he's already seen the schematics of the orphanage and knows that only atsushi has the power to open that door now. and so dazai remains where he is and listens to the choked whimpers of his subordinate.

" atsushi-kun. " boss's voice is calm with a lilt of a smile. if anyone else had disobeyed a director order they would have received something akin to the sound of an icicle through the heart. but not his white reaper. not when this was always meant to happen. " now do you understand why you should have never come here? "

[cvrseduser-a]

continued from @parieha

Suguru is no stranger to Satoru's... antics ; he's used to having his space invaded by him, which really isn't an invasion if it's a welcomed thing, so he doesn't resist the pull as much as he can't help a defeated sigh. He didn't even put up a fight.

The blank stare comes not from annoyance but genuine cluelessness. He's met with the reflection of his own amber gaze staring back instead of azure, and despite the wall of dark, thick glass protecting the most gorgeous orbs capable of seeing it all, he knows Satoru is staring back just as blankly. Expectantly, as though he should know what he's going on about.

He doesn't. That's when he puts up a fight.

Suguru doesn't budge. He stares, quirks an eyebrow, and soon enough there it is.

He takes in a breath to respond ; everything is alright and sounds good to him, up until the taller boy rambles about how honoured he should be. Suguru closes his mouth.

« I didn't know babysitting was so highly regarded, » he says with a teasing lilt and a sigh. But he knows Satoru like the back of his hand, notices the smallest twitches and the tension in his shoulders, the nerves in his voice.

« Depends, » he adds about turning him down. He has absolutely no intention to, but he has a façade to keep, no matter how much Satoru's very Satoru-esque way of asking him on a date makes his chest feel all warm and fuzzy.

« I might if you go dressed like that. »

[startgamc]

@parieha​ [ Starter Call ]

“Don’t you know anything about personal space?” He was fixing Akira with an (entirely forced) cold stare. He knew what the trickster was up to. And it was easier to be prickly than to relent to the fact that he was enjoying the close proximity. 

[godsbox]

failure was an embarrassment that so much history calcified into talent'd never primed him for, bare minimum miracles satisfactory to those whose ceiling was satoru's ground floor. maybe it's where half the irk had flooded in, slipped past his serrated nerves. sharing so much breathing space in rooms that'd felt too small, sharing strength and height, grade level, and still finding himself flat against the dirty gym mats. head spinning & making some late night begrudging self discovery that he bruised about as easy as an old peach ( just . . . nobody'd ever done it before. ) just some exercise in tolerance then that they'd go proverbially handcuffed together, pre - packaged in plastic wrapping and stamped with wrinkly higher up hands about non negotiable terms of doing business     keeping one of six eyes on geto suguru's back. printing blank reports with an extra paragraph at the end for gojo to scrawl and scribble, geto used the ugly bug curse, it bugged all over the place, homework piled on like it wasn't grief enough to share a car, to share every mission. to have his own life skewed out of balance over the existence of some nobody.

it's embarrassing to stumble. waste the shot to size back up to his proper pedestal, carve out the difference, the miles between them that'd felt so stark and clear in so many mornings wrapped up in his own stewing silences. the artificial gaps of gojo's own design, by hands that were just coming away wet & red smeared when they'd inched back to clasp at the junction between spine and shoulder, feeling out the pinch, the tear in the seams. so busy burning holes in geto's back and couldn't even watch his own. ❝ don't - ❞ and the priority of pain cracks back behind his eyes, beneath his skull, infinity whipping out off the curl of his fingers as he smacks geto's hand away. eyes narrow, pupils hardened to pin points, magnet - snapped to the black ball in his grasp, the curse that'd knocked gojo into the dirt sedated like nothing. just that easy, huh . . . ? disappointment had a home in him, buzzing cold like a second bloodstream. oozing out in vitriolic ichor, teeth grit, his head turned sharply to the side. ❝ i don't want your hands on me. mission's done, just call the car. ❞ [ ☁︎ ] @parieha , suguru.

[sigmadolos]

@parieha​ said: Dostoevsky carefully draws the other’s face close, a small smile on their lips as he’s well aware of what even the smallest tastes of his attention can do to his other half. “ you are as god intended you. and I love that person. … happy birthday, manager. … please do not forget to enjoy your day, hm? “ 🥺

its sigma’s birthday

   Sigma follows the gentle caress blindly, curious and stunned by the gesture. It is not often that the Russian initiates touch. (Why? Sigma doesn’t know when he’s proven time and time again nothing will happen. But he neither asks nor presses the matter. It merely makes the rare occasion all the more significant.) He savors the moment when he’s reached out to rather than the other way around, when he feels the cool fingers against his cheeks, when he follows the gesture without hesitation. Fyodor could guide him anywhere in the heavens or hell and Sigma would follow all too gladly.

   And of course, Sigma can see the smile that rests on his lips. Small but no less precious or significant. 

    And I love that person. 

     His eyes widen briefly at the words, and then soften with sugar sweet fondness. “  You remembered.  “  Sigma doesn’t tend to make a big deal of the day nor an expectation of it, but it touches his heart when others remember. Granted, a fair amount of the staff knew. But it was a sweet gesture that made his chest ache with affection.

   Sigma leans closer, to press their foreheads together with a smile and a playful scolding tone.  “  You’re hardly one to lecture when you tend to be working or plotting on your birthday.  “  He points out. At least till Sigma stole him away from it, overruling protests with the declaration it was a day to focus on Fyodor and spoil him..  He drops the tone however for one much softer and ringing with sweetness as he murmurs words into the space between them.  “  Thank you, Λατρεία μου.  “  Sigma presses his lips gently against his god’s, fluttering and tender as he nuzzles into the gentle hands on his cheeks. This was more than enough to brighten his day.

   “  Hmm, does this mean I get to be spoiled today?  “  Sigma inquires playfully, despite his evident contentment to just bask in the simple touch granted to him. Greed was not something that easily came to the angel, it was a play in jest. After all, this had already been a pleasant surprise.  “  I love you.  “

[rahbid]

TARGET   :    GOJO, SATORU. LOCATION   :   @parieha​​​​​​​​ ASSIGNMENT   :   otherwise prompted. ENCRYPTED   :   ❝     ─   ah  ,  ah  !  aggression  isn't  attractive  !    ❞     gojo  merely  lifts  his  head  when  he  catches  her  fist  over  the  back  of  the  couch  ,  trademark  upturn  of  his  lips  infuriatingly  mocking  as  it  was  to  everyone  .      ❝     plus  ,  i  heard  you  a  mile  away  .  tsk  !  i'd  work  on  that  before  trying  to  throw  any  punches  at  anybody  ~  !   ❞    (   he  merely  squeezes  their  fist  in  punishment  for  her  transgressions  ,  harmlessly  reprimanding  .  )  ❝    ya  hear  me  ?  quit  it  .    ❞

        ❝   you took from my snack stash!   ❞   she exclaims, teeth bared and brows furrowed with annoyance. ❝   and don’t tell me it wasn’t you because you are the only one who knows where it is!   ❞

         she doesn’t want to hurt gojo - not usually, anyway - but sometimes she just wants to eat all his energy til there’s no damn smug smile on his face. she hates the lack of integrity - flaunting himself, doing things that earn him a fair punch to the face and cowering from his consequences! at least she knew when she deserved a beating! 

        a pause. anger subsiding into confusion. she does not take her hand from his wrist ( though, there is the fleeting thought that he really doesn’t need both his hands ), instead merely tilting her head sidelong, upper lip curling back - she looks like she doesn’t understand. it’s not exactly an uncommon expression, especially when she’s trying to understand gojo’s never - ending string of utter nonsense.

        ❝   what do i give a damn what’s attractive? what do you give a damn? i’m not attractive to you anyway.   ❞

[mangher]

@parieha liked for a starter!

“--or so Nanamin says...” Yuuji muses, swaying his feet a little, sitting comfortably on a bench on the school grounds. “And I do think sensei is cool, and the strongest. But--,” he pauses, head tilting a little as he thinks how to word his thoughts without sounding silly or overly stupid. It was kinda hard, when you were in the presence of someone you admired. “I also... I also think, sensei is human, with interesting thoughts, feelings, experiences... experiences and stories he can share with others. Small things among the bigger ones, you know? Someone who has a lot to give to this world.” And to not just run around killing curses because someone tells him to. 

There’s a wide smile on his face when he looks up, eyes crinkling just slightly at the corners. “That’s why I’m glad we met, because I get to have fun and to learn from the best sorcerer out there!” Plus he genuinely enjoyed hanging out with Gojou, talking about whatever, watching movies, learning new things... It made him feel less lonely.