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✲ celebrity!jjk men when you're brought up in an interview ; part one (includes gojo, geto, nanami, toji)
✲ celebrity!jjk men when you're brought up in an interview ; part two (includes yuuji, megumi, yuuta)
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✲ celebrity!jjk men when you’re brought up in an interview (ft: sukuna, naoya) — [ in transit ]
✲ staring at the sun - chapter five (ft: geto suguru)
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celebrity!jjk men when you get brought up in an interview (pt three)
includes: sukuna, naoya
warnings: some ooc!sukuna, jealousy on sukuna’s part, no misogyny in naoya’s part, just him being a narcisstic prick lol, mild suggestiveness but no flatout explicit content, gn!reader, they/them pronouns, reader wears makeup in naoya’s part
part one, part two
SUKUNA — professional ufc fighter
“you have an interview scheduled at 1:00 pm later with sports illustrated, and no, you may not have me cancel for you,” you state, already knowing what the iconic martial artist that’s sitting right next to you will interject with. you earn a groaned huff in response. “they want to capture a few headshots with you, so you have to be there in person.”
you don’t even bother looking up from your tablet as you hear an annoyed, dragged out sigh that almost sounds child-like as you send off an email approving that you and your client will be there at the scheduled meeting time sharp. this is the usual response to any event that wasn’t an upcoming match or free time, considering that the man next to you doesn’t quite like doing things that don’t bring dopamine to his brain, so you aren’t surprised.
with anyone else, defying the ryomen sukuna, the almighty king of curses, emperor of the ring himself, sukuna might’ve used those bulging muscles to use and all it would take is a casual flex of them to get what he wants. no one else would even attempt to go against sukuna’s wishes, knowing that their fate would end in nothing else but pain. his tongue is just as sharp as his movements in the ring, too. punches and kicks and grips are sometimes unneeded considering that his nasty insults can do all the work for him, and the toxic humiliation is always sure to follow.
the only two exceptions to his wrath were his peppy actor little brother whose hair shared the same iconic shade of blush pink, and his manager—you.
but to say manager is an understatement; you’re more of his caretaker, if anything. you not only manage his emails and schedule, you still do the initiative that’s essentially against your will (and probably your paycheck) to even cook his breakfast, prepare his outerwear for the day, make sure he gets to bed clean, and stay out of trouble with the commonfolk.
you never planned on having children for these reasons, yet here you were—taking care of what you dare call is a man-child.
a minty, peppered smell fills the back of the limousine all of a sudden, as well as the familiar rushed scent of butane. sukuna lights up a cigarette whose scent he knows peeves you because of how easily it clings onto anything it touches. he lets out a snaking wisp of smoke and lets his chest relax before asking, “how long will it take?”
you resist the urge to cough obnoxiously. you can never fathom how this man eats up cigarettes so early in the morning. “how ever long you make it.”
“hell’s that supposed to mean?” he snarks, puffing out the remnants of his drag onto your cheek in what attempts to be playful but only comes off as a nuisance.
“please don’t play coy,” you sigh, “you know you have the tendency to drag things longer than necessary.”
“you sayin’ i’m frustrating to work with?”
“we both know the answer to that,” you respond plainly and draw your attention back to your tablet to review emails.
a faux burning sensation singes itself onto the side of your face, and you know for a fact sukuna is staring straight into your skull with those usual, red-tinted eyes of his that have the tendency to glint with malice. he attempts to slightly leer over you with his height to try and engrave even the slightest bit of fear into you. you merely only look up at him boredly and raise a brow, “do you need something?”
you let his gaze linger onto your unamused one before he sighs and relaxes himself down in his seat once more, cigarette dangling from his now-chuckling lips.
“i can never get my way with you, can’t i?” he guffaws out of amusement before quickly taking out his cigarette and pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek, to which you groan at. you only receive another muted laugh from him when you attempt to wipe off sukuna saliva off your cheek.
there are many aspects that tend to make ryomen sukuna unique in the field of boxers. whether it be his terrifying strength, his signature body tattoos and face markings he paints on before his matches, or his charming, yet brute manner that always manages to ever slightly unsettle anyone he meets. but another feature that’s only known in the shadows, only known those avidly involved in the boxing scene—is that ryomen sukuna’s career is singlehandedly managed by a someone that isn’t as brute or brash as the other managers of boxers that seem to pump out toxic masculinity with every breath they heave. and while you may not carry the muscle in his career, you certainly do carry the brains.
it’s hushed sort of rumors that go around in the ring; that the only reason you’ve been by his side for the last seven years or so is so he can only have a toy to play with, that you’re only in it for the money, that you could have some daily eye candy...
if they only knew, however, that sukuna has never laid a hand on you ever since the first day you both met—in both prospects. the most he had done was, and still does, kiss your cheek or pull you in tight for what could be defined as a hug, but not really, at the most unprecedented moments, but it had never gone more than that. as for eye candy, you tend to grow bored easily, so seeing sukuna’s face was no different that seeing clouds in the sky.
you’ve also been asked whether or not you get jealous at how much attention sukuna got from those who appealed to him. it really never occurred to you until that very moment that you should be jealous of the people he winks at in clubs when you supervise him from afar, that you should be jealous of the people he brings to bed when you go home for the night, that you should be jealous of the people that lay in his bed in early mornings when you come to his abode and greet him.
but you don’t—oddly. you should, you know you should, but you don’t. you don’t think you can, for that matter. you see sukuna as work, not as a possibility for romance you know can’t be fulfilled given your career. so you always shut those questions down with a shake of your head and a shrug.
but while you may not appear on is wiki page and just stay in the shadows of his glory, you still know deep inside of your supposedly humble aura that you’re singlehandedly one of the reason for his success for the past years. that’s enough for you.
you just wish he’d appreciate your efforts more often.
after his morning training with the coach that usually steals your glory in the press, you managed to rush a lunch in before the interview with an journalist. sukuna is nothing less than handsome in some burgundy trousers and a fitted white top that just grazes over his muscles as he goes and greets the journalist with a firm handshake. the interviewer passes by you without any greeting, per usual.
“thank you so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to participate in this interview with us, mr. sukuna,” the journalist addresses joyously as he invites him to sit down in a chair that’s almost amusingly small for him.
“the pleasure is all mine,” he replies silkily, crossing his legs to prepare himself with those eyes still glinting with waiting sadism. he looks the journalist and his slightly shaking hands up and down. it’s almost as if he’s just waiting for the journalist to make a singular wrong move.
you can only clamp down your hand firmly on his shoulder and whisper into his ear, “behave yourself.”
sukuna’s jaw clenches back a cackle at your last words before you begin to head yourself out, but as sees your figure growing smaller, he calls you out.
“you’re not staying, (y/n)?”
you turn back on your heel and shake your head, “not this time. i still have to make a few phone calls regarding your next match.”
he stares at you concerningly for a few seconds—you’ve always stayed by the sidelines to oversee his interview process and to make sure no wrong words are said and recorded. how the hell is he supposed to keep his temper when you’re not here? does this mean he can say whatever shit he wants to without consequence?
at this, he pauses.
and a wicked grin appears on his face. so he can say whatever he wants without your nagging, huh? so be it.
“alright,” he drawls, leaning back into his seat. “i won’t be long, then.”
you don’t like the way his tone is in his voice, but you can’t do much other than a cautionary look before you exit the space.
“your manager?” the journalist asks as he prepares his equipment and questions.
sukuna nods. “old reliable.”
“i see,” the journalist agrees with a small hum.
he watches in meager anticipation as the journalist organizes his papers and his microphone on the table, glancing carefully at how he shuffles and aligns the papers containing some questions.
the interview begins smoothly, with the casual questions regarding his latest match and any life updates so far in his career, mixed in with some foreshadowing for his next match that you’re currently organizing as they speak.
“has there anyone been you’ve been eyeing as of recently?” the interview questions, looking up at the boxer who helps himself to another cigarette in the studio. “there have been rumors circulating about you and a specific sports announcer having a little—”
“sports announcer?” sukuna snorts. “you mean the little miss that’s been commenting on the tennis matches on espn? hah! fat chance, she hates my guts.”
the interviewer raises a brow. he supposes that snapshot of him and her on the tabloid was a fluke. “well... any other people that have been under the king of curses’s radar?”
there’s a quiet shuffle at the back of the studio, and sukuna’s eyes fleet swiftly to the door which you enter back through again.
the interviewer sure was sharp on his toes, sukuna notices, because his breath hitches when the interviewer brings you up ever so quietly, so quiet that only him and sukuna could hear his voice.
“you know... that manager of yours...” the interviewer slyly continues, “they’re quite the looker.”
sukuna’s unamusement doesn’t falter. “okay? and?”
“so you agree?” the interviewer suppresses a grin. he’s sure to try and get at least something out of this, maybe even a confirmation of the many rumors that fly about the athlete superstar and his love life. “you agree that your manager is attractive?”
a snarky laugh leaves sukuna’s lips. “i think anyone would be stupid and blind to think otherwise.”
despite the years you’ve been with sukuna, despite the many things he’d say to you, you were never quite well-adjusted to his once-in-a-blue moon compliments because he’d tell them out to you at the most unprecedented moments. you weren’t even sure if they were genuine, but it wasn’t like the emperor of the ring handed compliments out like freebies.
the interviewer grins.
“are they attractive to you?”
a brief pause goes through air and it thickens, making it hard to breathe for... essentially everyone, including sukuna. he can only stare at the subtly-smirking interviewer with what seems to be—hesitation. red eyes go to sprint towards your stiffening figure, and it looks like he’s asking you for help, like a child.
“i...” sukuna falters when he doesn’t receive a reply, but only a dry swallow from you, both of you sharing the same uncertainty about yourselves.
another silence goes through the studio. suddenly, the lights are a little too bright, the temperature a little too hot, and his collar a little too tight. the interviewer only manages to break through the silence with, “mr. sukuna—?”
“no.”
it comes out a much harsher than expected, more venomous, and it almost sounds like an insult of sorts. your mouth gapes open slightly when he answers the question too abruptly, and it doesn’t help either of your cases when you realize he’s still looking at you. your jaw clenches back again and you thin your lips, dipping your head down slightly when you fully digest his response about you—a sudden ache blossoms in your chest that goes away just as quickly as it comes. you don’t want to ponder as to why it was there in the first place, so you turn your attention to the weather app on your phone as a poor attempt to distract yourself.
when sukuna notices you breaking eye contact from his reply, he grits his teeth, almost irritated at both himself and the interviewer, who, when he looks back to, is just as shocked as him. he attempts to explain his answer—change it even, but the interviewer merely breathes a sharp breath in and places a faux smile.
“i see. let’s move onto the next question, shall we?”
“i didn’t mean it,” is the first thing that sukuna says hastily when you enter the car silently, the same tension that rushed through both of your nerves’ still present and lingering. “i got nervous.”
you fight back an amused snort, not sure whether it was fueled by self-impotence or genuine amusement at the irony. ryomen sukuna? getting nervous? you thought that would only happen when pigs fly, but now, you think differently. “that’s quite alright,” you murmur. “i understand.”
“(y/n), i swear i didn’t mean it—“ he spits, brows furrowing at your poor attempt to hide your discontentment. “he... he was trying to get on my nerves and i fell for it.”
“i know,” you state simply with folded hands in your lap. he frowns when you don’t even look at him properly. “again, it’s okay, i get it.”
desperation claws at sukuna as he examines your countenance, attempting to look for some sort of expression, but your face remains so neutral that it scares him. it scares him that he can’t read your face. it terrifies him that’s never been able to, to tell what you’re thinking because you’re too clever to guise your emotions so poorly.
sukuna doesn’t think he’s ever seen you laugh or cry or become angry before him, but the look on your face back then had flashed with a strange distortion of disappointment that was all too foreign to him.
“you’re not mad, right?” sukuna tries, dipping his face to see yours more closely. “you don’t believe it, right?”
he acknowledges that he won’t exactly pry much out of you when you merely shake your head as a response before placing on your usual, neutral expression again, choosing to look out the window. he bites the inside of his cheek as he scans your face before looking a little too closely for his own liking.
he never realized it back then, but your cheekbones sit rather high and sculpted on your face. your lashes frame your eyes fittingly. your lips, full with plushness and color. your hair shadowing your visage like a portrait frame. sukuna’s brows furrow as thoughts of if others looked at you the way he did right now.
the car drops you off at your apartment, and sukuna grows confused as to why it was only early evening and you’re already clocking out for the day. “leaving already? it’s not...” sukuna falters. “it’s not because of what i said, right?”
“oh, uh, no,” you hesitate. “i actually have plans tonight with someone, so i have to take off early. you don’t have anything else planned for today, so you can h—“
“what plans?” he interrogates. “with who?”
you can only look at him with a raised brow as you ponder why the sudden irritated look that comes across his face at the mention of a strange someone. red eyes examine you like a hawk and they narrow when you don’t answer right away. “(y/n).”
“i have a dinner date tonight,” you reply hastily. you’ve never been a good liar, and sukuna is too good at detecting them, so you might as well just spit out the truth as a whole before he confronts you about it.
his ruby red eyes almost sullen as a response to your evening plans. in all his years of knowing you, he hadn’t had the faintest fleeting thought about your love life, let alone anyone that was involved in it, so it feels too foreign to him when someone else other than him is involved—or going to get involved—in your life. that someone else might be getting your attention, that someone else is going to be tended by your care, that someone else is going to be on your mind except him, like it always has been.
and when you can only bid your goodbyes at his silence before you enter your apartment, sukuna can only rest back in the backseat of the car with hardened eyes as the back of your figure is engraved in his mind.
“uraume,” sukuna mutters to his driver and secretary through the window. “find out where the hell (y/n) and her ‘date’ are dining. immediately.”
NAOYA — entrepreneur and ceo
the absolute perfection of what nepotism is, top shareholder naoya zenin had all the connections needed to properly execute his company freshly out of college. from the needed directors to the necessary partnering companies, all he really had to do was put on a fancy suit and tie, learn the basics of businesses, and he was all prepped to go to be on his way to a comfortable and lavish lifestyle while doing as little work possible.
it’s been about a fitting five years since the launch of his company, and it’s been booming rapidly. sure, he’s done a couple of dirty tricks to get rid of his competitors and maybe have skewed some sales here and there thanks to the help of his family, but what does it matter when you’re one of the most powerful companies in the country? no one dares to even stand up to him, so why would they try and question his antics at all? even the thought of doing so brings goosebumps up peoples’ sleeves.
so when a former intern of his finally manages to start up their company with the skills they had learned at his company, to say that naoya was perturbed that they chose to follow in his footsteps incorrectly instead of working for him was an understatement. it didn’t help the young ceo’s nerves that you weren’t that much younger than him either, and yet, you were already credited with being one of the decade’s most ingenious, adolescent entrepreneurs in the business magazines, overriding his own title he held not too long ago.
he’s met you a couple of times in meeting regarding the desire to sharehold within your two companies. all of them had gone awry in private, often ending in you two isolated in a lone meeting room in the early evening when every person from each company had gone home in an argument. he’d complain you were being too stingy about not wanting to become a daughter company under his name, while you shot back with slanders of him being too controlling of people supposedly under his care.
“i know what you do to them,” you had hissed at him one time, a finger jabbing at his chest. “you run them until you’ve squeezed every single last penny out of them, then make them file for bankruptcy until you can fully gain control of their assets. i’m not letting you do that to my company and my people.”
naoya scoffs out a laugh. “your ‘people?’ oh please, both you and i know that we only acknowledge our employees as our simple servants who just do our bidding. they’re nothing more than that, sweetheart.”
“to you, perhaps,” you retort, “but unlike someone, i actually care about my employees.” a sarcastic laugh barks out of you. “no wonder your employee census is at an all time low this year—”
naoya shuts you up by fisting your collar in his hands, raising you up on your tiptoes slightly and pushing you to the edge of the table, where your hips meet the platform of it and you’re utterly forced below him. icy grey eyes glare down at you as your own challenge his own with mere dullness, as if they provoke him to try anything. all goes quiet in the lone, darkened meeting room, the moonlight seeping in through the blinds and spotlighting your features.
“the only reason as to why that is...” he mutters, his face inching closer to yours. “... is because your wretched company is stealing them from mine. you and your flashy employee benefits...hah! you’re a thief.”
“i’m the thief?” you challenge as your hands go to grip his shoulders tightly. “last time, i remember, i wasn’t the one that was lowering the wages to try and—”
“another word out of you, (l/n),” naoya hisses. his arms extend to cage you within them and the table. “and see what happens.”
at this, you stay quiet, but your hardened stare doesn’t falter as his own return with the same vigor. all is eerily too quiet in the room suddenly, and you can feel the air grow hotter when naoya goes to rest his head on your shoulder, him suddenly feeling fatigued.
“you used to be so good for me, so obedient,” he murmurs. “whatever happened to the quiet, obedient intern i used to know?”
you’d never admit it—you’d probably have to be tortured to let it out—but you had not only used to intern under his company, but you were given the opportunity to intern under the ceo himself. it was there you conquered the labyrinth of the world of business, and it was there where you had the idea to start up your own business instead of wasting away at his cubicles.
“gone,” you declare, stiffening when his hands go to snake to your waist, the action feeling a little too familiar for your liking. “trashed, murdered, even. and you’re to blame.”
naoya snorts. “what? caused we fooled around in my office for a bit? please, you loved it.”
silence pools your mouth; you know it’s in your best interest not to retaliate with a lie to him. “it was more than that, and you know it,” you softly say before he lifts his head to settle it into the crook of your neck.
he takes a deep inhale of your perfume that you still wear, moaning softly at its familiar scent. “save the details, i don’t want to hear them,” naoya goes to shuffle off his tailored suit jacket, the whisper of a nervous gulp going down through your throat.
“i’m letting you in one last time on my offer, (y/n),” the way he whispers your voice sounds like a siren’s song, alluring and wistful. whilst his lips go to peck your neck in feather-light kisses, he watches your reaction contort. “come be under my wing. your sales and profit would flourish, you can be introduced to international markets, you’d be able to grow in the environment you need to. it’d be under great care, your company,” naoya tends to a certain spot on your neck, baring his teeth ever so gently on the sweetened skin and hearing you hiss a groan through your teeth. even in the dark, as he pulls back, can see a now-inked spot on the crook of your collarbone.
“you, especially, darling,” he drawls.
while the pet name had physically made your body weak, seeing as how you clench your thighs together at the sound of it, it mentally did not weaken your wall of refusal.
naoya idly stares at you through sharp, dark eyes, an annoyance of sorts fleeting through them before they roll sarcastically at your silence.
“have it your way then,” is what he sighs before he simultaneously dips his head to kiss you deeply. just like the old days... he thinks, smirking into your lips as he feels your hands lock together behind his head.
“mr. zenin? mr. zenin, are you alright?”
naoya’s spine suddenly shoots up straight, his eyes going wide in shock as his name is called out to him again. snapping out of his daydream, naoya goes to look around at his surroundings, only for him to realize that he was not in a dark meeting room in the late evening, but in a newsroom, where he suddenly remembers he’s being interviewed for the business segment on the news.
he blinks. the entire cast and the interviewer himself have puzzled looks on his faces. how long was he daydreaming about last evening for? why was he even thinking about that?
an abrupt cough leaves his throat. “excuse me,” he starts, settling his hands in his lap again before he’s met with the blinding ray of the lighting. “i apologize, i must’ve lost my train of thought. what was the question again?”
“ah,” the interviewer looks down at his cue card. “well, we were wondering about your current thoughts regarding the recent launch of multiple electronics of XYZ Group? how do you find them? does your company have anything in the works to retaliate with? people on social media have been raving all over them.”
naoya’s eyes fleet over to the screen, where your figure walks along the gallery of upcoming products for an advertisement, showing them off and giving a brief description with a bright and confident smile (an expression that you barely made in front of him, both in public and in private). his teeth grit at the sight of you being a little too content for his likiing, especially when the advertisement goes to follow up with excited sns users expressing their anticipation.
i’ve had my ZeninCell for only two years, but it’s already begun to bust beyond repair. i’m ready to switch to this phone! a twitter user quote retweets in the ad.
he bites back a hissed laugh, suspecting that the user was paid by your company to flood the launch with excitement. “oh well, i’m very sure that you can anticipate something coming this year soon,” he replies steadily. “with the newest formation of contemporary nanotechnology, i can assure you, our next launch will take the world by storm.”
the interviewer nods knowingly, his response earning a couple of stunned ooh’s and ahh’s. “i see. well, we’ll keep a sharp eye on the lookout, but in the meantime, that concludes our interview, and thank you so much for taking time out of your day for us.”
naoya anticipates that when he goes on social media that evening, there’ll be some sort of expectation from the loyal customers of his company that they look forward to this year’s product launch. instead, he’s greeted with both his name and yours trending high on the charts, for a reason he’d find out only a tap on his phone later.
A Match Made in Heaven?! Rival CEOs Naoya Zenin and (Y/N) (L/N) Photographed Together at Nightclub! —The Enemies to Lovers Everyone Dreams Of! screams one pop culture article.
ZeninCells aren’t the only ones getting overheated; Naoya Zenin and (Y/N) (L/N) get steamy together in a limousine! Read the exclusive article here! blares another post.
Nation’s Power Lovechild in the Making? Tune into the secret romance of Naoya Zenin and supposed “rival” (Y/N) (L/N) in the link below! instructs the post his thumb shakily hovers over before he hesitatingly taps on it.
floods of multiple photos photographing you and him in different areas—a night club, in the back of a car, in the security camera of an elevator—they’re all of you and him either hand in hand or locking lips together, and it’s clear not much context is needed for most of them.
his face is frozen in horror when his phone finally lands on the photo that stuns him the most. it’s a recent one, and it’s apart of a series of photos entailing you and him travelling from the meeting room you both were in yesterday night all the way to his car, where you’re seated in the idly passenger seat. the photo photographs him with tousled hair, his collar undone and tie loose around his neck, and faint lipstick marks speckling his neck and collar, while you walk beside him, makeup smudged, your buttons unevenly paired, and shoes in hand. what’s the most shocking detail that’s circled with red, however, is the fact that he leads you along with his hand in yours.
he swore he was careful of who was around, but how the hell did paparazzi not only get the events of yesterday, but all the events he was with you weeks, months even, before that?
he stands up abruptly, demanding his penthouse’s servants set up his car so he can speed down to your residence, but he’s interrupted by the rapid buzzing of his cell phone.
his body goes numb when he reads your name in white text, and he hesitates before finally picking up the call, already dreading what the conversation will be like.
“i’m assuming you already saw the articles,” you attempt to say flatly, but naoya can clearly detect there’s flakes of worry embedded in your voice.
“i have,” he sighs and rubs his forehead in dismay. he can already feel a headache pounding itself into his brain. “was this your doing?”
“why the fuck would i sabotage myself in this fashion?” you spit through the phone. “if i wanted to take you down properly, i wouldn’t do it like this.”
“i guess that’s a no, then,” naoya groans before plopping back onto his couch. “you should’ve been more careful about who was around you!”
you laugh sarcastically. “me?! are you forgetting you’re also apart of this?! don’t try and displace the blame onto me to use me as a scapegoat. now, open the hell up.”
“well, technically, we’re both to bl—what?”
“open the door.”
“you mean to say,” naoya’s eyes dart at his apartment door, “you’re—”
“here, yes,” a series of knock sound through the apartment. “let me in. if we’re going to figure this thing out, we have to do it...” there’s a strain in your voice, as if you’re hesitant to say what you’re about to say, as if you don’t want to say it because it feels strange on your tongue.
“then we have to do it together, strange enough as it sounds.”
Nai loved his mother, he truly did. If not, why would he grace her mercy to escape the ship with them? Why wouldn't he kill her himself, and instead left fate to decide upon her demise?
He loathed the Rem he sees in Luida, the Rem he sees in Meryl, the Rem he sees in Vash; he hates the 'Rem' that was crafted in his mind over the years, haunting him wherever he go. But would he hate the actual Rem had he seen her again?
Nai loved her just as much as he hates her, and he hates that he loved her, just as much as he hates the humanity both his loved ones had chosen over him.
Okay Spider-Man Itadori and his S/O but... it's TASM 2
if this is what asking what i think i'm asking then. haha sorry
if this isn't then IM SO SORRY PLEASE SEND ME ANOTHER ASK
tags: spider-man!yuuji x reader, green goblin!megumi angst, angst no comfort, action, alternate universe: spider-man, marvel universe
warnings: major character death, spoilers for spider-man 3, the amazing spider-man 2 since i'm kind of combining the both of them and adding my own details
megumi seemed to be in another state of mind as yuuji continuously dodged his punches and hurling pumpkin bombs that shriek out to him in piercing screams. behind the green goblin mask, he could see the serpent green eyes that mimicked his deceased father's, only this time, they were exploding all types of fury and mania he'd never seen the hues that usually showed serenity and peace. yuuji didn't even know that megumi was capable of showing such anger until right here, right now.
"megs, i'm sorry!" yuuji announced loudly while narrowly dodging the hissing goblin glider's blades. "i didn't—listen, just please hear me out!"
"you didn't hear my father out when you killed him, now did you?!" megumi scolded before releasing himself from a nearby edge and catching himself on the goblin glider.
yuuji's heart squeezed suddenly. the memory and images of toji fushiguro's self-inflicted death flashed through his mind as he looked at the piercer of the goblin glider, megumi circling him almost menacingly above his head. the way that toji treated him like a second son, the glint in toji's eyes that whispered to yuuji that he didn't want to harm him as much as he did, his final words breathing out a solem, "take care of megumi for me." before he gave his final smile and breath.
but to risk one life in trade for saving thousands of others is a decision he'll always be met with, even if that one person who will flatline will hold a piece of his heart. if he had to kill his best friend, his partner in crime, then yuuji itadori truly has no choice.
it wasn't like it was his decision to make in the first place.
megumi lunged forward to the ground and forced yuuji onto the glider. he was immediately met with a brutal right hook to his jaw before he could process what was happening and the impact was so harsh, it nearly caused him to lose balance and drop the increasing twenty feet. yuuji placed himself back to reality and with a firm stance and returned the favor, but with twice as much intensity. as the glider ascended higher and higher in the interior of the clock tower, the fight became more dangerous and ardent as the punches, kicks, and acidic words dripping from megumi's bloodied mouth enhanced.
yuuji found an opening between megumi's suit that gave him a solid view of his oblique and managed to land a final kick that flung him to the furthest wall of the clock tower, directly next to the person yuuji came here for.
your eyes widened drastically at the sight of a battered green goblin landing painfully next to you. your huffs and pants were taken up by the cloth that veiled your mouth as the ropes that binded your wrists to the barricade tightened from all the fidgeting.
the glider, upon realizing who was on it, zipped away underneath yuuji's feet. he slung a web to a firmed pole and shot himself onto the top floor of the clock tower, where he rushed to your aid before megumi's, who was still attempting to get up from the exploding impact done to his back.
your wrists suddenly breathed back to life without a strangling tightness and your weakened self slung around yuuji's body, rasping out a thank you.
"i've got you, i've got you," yuuji comforted.
but before you were able to give yourself a proper break from all the unwanted adrenaline, your peace was suddenly interrupted when the collar of your blouse was grappled tightly. megumi hissed when you attempted to kick his shin and in return, dangled you amidst the welling, blank middle of the clock tower, his eyes narrowing.
"megumi," yuuji gasped, slowly getting up and inching his friend-turned-foe. "please. just—just put (y/n) down. i'm begging you."
the noirette returned his pleas in a sharpened silence, his chin lifting up as he came closer to the edge of the floor.
yuuji could only switch his gaze between you and megumi. if he made one wrong move, a black swan could suddenly be born from this entire scenario. this—everything that he had done until that measly spider bit him—wasn't supposed to happen, but it did and now yuuji had to face the consequences of something he never asked for.
"megumi."
said person set his stance firmly on the very edge of the ground, in which nothing but mere air was the only barrier between him and the gaping hole of the clock tower as the two hands closed in on each other, both of them almost pointing directly towards the sky. the silhouette of the minute hand inched closer and closer to its partner and just like cinderella, yuuji knows that the magic will all be over once it strikes midnight.
"an eye for an eye," megumi whispered.
and he let go.
your shrieks bounced off the walls, a scream so piercing and heartbreaking, it reached yuuji's heart first before anything.
it didn't even take a full second for everything to take into effect, megumi thought. ruby red rage flurried yuuji's vision and all his nerves revved up to their maximum limit. his normally-welcoming warm brown irises pulsed in the white before the ivory took over to the point where megumi couldn't tell where yuuji was aiming for. yuuji first sprinted to megumi and gifted him a deathly punch to his jaw before the same fist punched the concrete beneath him, letting megumi plunge the same amount of distance you were falling at with no mercy.
"yuuji!"
the young vigilante came back to his senses shortly after and ran towards the center of the clock tower before diving down with you. there you were, descending further and further down with a broken and horrified look on your face as you couldn't do anything but fall further and further.
you managed to somehow catch yourself on a pole for a split second, letting yuuji catch up to you in the span of three seconds, but the tranquility was cut short when the lubrication between your sweating hands and the rusting of the pole become too much and you continued down your unwanted journey.
yuuji's wrist aimed towards you and managed to grapple your wrist in the web, forcing a pit-stop between you and the air as the web barely fit through the gaps of the clock tower's gear works. he quickly grabbed onto the nearest steel bar offered to him and finally, finally put a stop to your near-doom.
"you okay?!" yuuji called from below, sighing in relief as your nod messaged itself back to him. "don't let go, alright?!"
"y-yeah!"
shakily, he began to lift you up with all the remaining strength he had left, his breathing stuttering and coming into divided parts.
he could let himself finally rest for a while once he had you in his arms again, safe and sound. after this, he could swing you back home, tuck you into bed, and let the memories of the hours beforehand cease temporarily once your head hit the pillow. just give him a few more seconds.
but it's not everyday that every wish gets fulfilled. what yuuji itadori didn't know, however, was that those few seconds he wished for would later be a wish he would always scream at the universe for him to take back.
because the moment that the first note of midnight's song chimed through, everything was over in an instant.
the gears were brought to life, their hearts pulsing violently as they collectively worked together to sound out a breath of vitality for all the city to hear. the pressure between them as they combined hands snapped the web in half, just before he could clearly see your face.
this time, you didn't scream. this time, you didn't have time to call out his name. this time, you didn't have time to... anything really. the most you could do is gave that despondent expression that gave out the singular message that this was over. the solemness took over your once-bright eyes, a paleness washing your expression with your lips agape ever so slightly. your hand could only limply reach out for your lover as death's journey continued.
yuuji dived again, barely missing the gnashing teeth of the gears as he slipped through the gaps and gripped himself onto the pole your hand once was, the staining warmth seeping through his hand, almost like your own hand was holding his again.
another web shout of his trembling wrist. yuuji pleaded this one would be long enough to catch you, offering a fair trade to the heavens above that if this would seize your body that he would give his heart, his body, and his soul to them, letting him be fate's marionette as long as this would catch you.
so the deal was sealed. he shook hands with life's trickiest gambler and everything set itself into place.
how lucky he was, for the web managed to stick to your chest and grip you tightly.
but yuuji's serenity was cut short when he heard a devastating snap echo through the quiet.
he paused, his body nearly going limp as he attempted to confirm whether he heard right or now. weighting air exhaled throughout of him as he wrapped the web around the pole and plunged to the last level of the clock tower as the chimes continued their requiem.
there you were, hanging from a singular diaphanous string, your body swinging ever so hauntingly just a mere three feet above the ground. your eyes were veiled and your lips were colorless, a thin, enclosed line running through them with a thin trail of crimson watered from your nose.
"hey..." yuuji murmured gently, letting himself closer to you with a tremble shaking his entire body. "hey... (y/n)... i'm here now..."
yuuji cut the web in half and let your body fall into his arms. "(y/n)?"
his nerves, the nerves that once initiated full adrenaline into his system, suddenly froze like ice when your head lolled to the side without meaning.
"hey..." he whispered again—this time shaking your body in hopes to wake you from what he prayed to only a temporary unconsciousness. "hey—? c'mon... you can wake up... i-i'm here now."
tenderly, almost as if a single touch could break you, his hand lifted to your cheek and stroked it as your body rocked against his. a nearly solidified swallow passed through his dry throat as he rasped out another, "(y/n), please. p-please just—" he gasped for air, the first hiccup of many to come arising. "you gotta stay with me. stay with me—stay with me."
yuuji had never liked how when sometimes you two fought, you would deliver him the silent treatment like a child. you were too stubborn and he'd take him many tries and gifts and apologies to pry a word out of you. if you were giving him a punishment right now, he'd spend his entire life trying and trying and trying to make sure you whispered out a single word.
but now...
"no," yuuji moaned when the realization began to seep into him. "no, no, please (y/n)... you can't d-do this to me," he stuttered. "i—"
his tears and sobs brought him back to life as yuuji itadori realized that no matter how much he begged, no matter how desperate he was, there was no return to the few seconds he had requested for, as if fate was mocking him with a jeer of, "no refunds, kid."
"please—! no, n-not... please..."
and just like that brief moment of pure rage just minutes, seconds earlier, it all came crashing down on him all too quickly.
he knew that tonight, he would be losing someone dear to him in trade to salvage thousands of others.
what he didn't know, however, was that you would be tagging along with megumi in this unfair, agonizing barter.
oh but suguru would most definitely be the most romantic boyfriend—he’d go all the way to make sure you’d feel loved and constantly reminds you and only you are the one person that fills his mind by using his words and gentle touches. dates with him are nothing short of memorable and mesmerizing considering he’d be willing to take you to the highest point in tokyo to see the city lights or rent out an entire movie theatre so you can the space all to yourselves without unnecessary distractions.
no doubt he’d spoil you. you’d jokingly point out that gorgeous tiffany’s necklace in the front window for a mere second and forget about it the next, but the next day, before he leaves for work, you see a teal box settled on the divider with only a note that says “:).”
because he’s just cheeky like that.
again, like his white haired counterpart, he was most definitely some sort of player lurking in the shadows and gathering hearts and storing the later-broken pieces for safekeeping until he meets you and suddenly he wants to also preserve your heart, but as a whole. he’ll enamor you as best as he can, but suguru won’t also deny you’re a tad but oblivious to his moves. that box of exquisite chocolates? you thought he just wanted to provide you a light snack. those new pumps that had JUST entered the market? oh, you remembered complaining that your old shoes were starting to wear—how thoughtful of him! that candlelit dinner with the finest wine and art pieces made out of food? well, you did say you were a bit hungry after work and it’d be impolite to turn down an offer.
you don’t realize that you have this man in a chokehold with your pretty little fingers unknowingly around his neck. suguru can’t tell by your blank eyes that you’re just not getting it and he can’t decide if it’s cute or frustrating. but he bites his tongue, just hopefully trying to whizz you up in his ropes until one day, his ropes snap and he loses it completely.
because you’re coworkers at a fashion design company, you’re out for lunch with him at the usual cafe with your usual orders, laughing and chatting over stupid conversations and inside jokes that make his heart warm unbeknownst to you, especially if you give him that half-winked smile as you try and relieve yourself from giggling so much. the more humorous conversation dies down until you set your fork down and tell him, “i have a date later!”
the way you say it so enthusiastically, as if you weren’t indirectly dating him, makes his blood slowly start to boil. before he can spit anything acidic, though, through a bitter smile and twitching eye, he congratulates you stiffly. control your breathing, suguru geto, you’re better than bull seeing red.
with a frown curtained by a napkin and eyes making sure no one else is glancing your way to pique their interests, he takes in everything that you say about this supposed dream boat—he finds out he’s your coworker that’s apparently all the hype lately and you feel so unbelievably lucky that you’ve become the apple of his eye.
“well,” suguru says flatly before he leaves earlier than usual, trying to ignore your subtle puppy eyes that tell him you both have twenty minutes left in your break. “i hope you have fun. hope he treats you well.”
and with steps that seem like stomps, he walks away and leaves you alone on the cafe patio, left with thoughts about how suguru’s eyes seemed a little darker.
he actually goes to your workplace before you get there and the way this guy sticks out like a sore thumb makes suguru wants to snort. surrounded by all types of women, suguru manages to pull him away for a little “chat” about his date later tonight with you.
“hey, i don’t mean to sound intrusive or anything, but did you ask (y/n) on a date?”
the ken doll strikes up a brow. “who?”
red flashes through his eyes for a subtle moment. “(y/n). from finance.”
“oh!” he snaps his fingers in realization. “yeah i did! i thought she was pretty cute, so yeah, i asked her out for dinner—”
“why would you ask another guy’s girlfriend on a date?” suguru asks dully.
his amethyst hues crystallize into daggers and basically pierce into this guy’s soul. ken doll laughs nervously and pulls at his collar. “woah, haha, she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend—”
“you didn’t check with her first?” suguru interrupts again.
the guy swallows, “sorry, man. if she’s your girl, i’ll lay off.”
the snort suguru gives tells him that his conversation is over and to never lay a hand on you again. “how about you just never glance in her direction again? that’d suffice for both you and i.”
he manages to get ahold of the restaurant ken doll was about to take you out to and decides to fill in his spot. suited in a casual, but semi-formal slacks and button up, he sees you, drowned in a gorgeous, hugging black dress that just highlights every curve he adores, poking around at an appetizing with a sulk.
“that poor girl has been waiting for her date for half an hour,” a waiter whispers nearby, earning teaming pitying looks from his coworkers in your direction. “i offered her a free wine, but she said he’d be here soon. i think she’s too hopeful…”
suguru steps in eventually and clasps the waiter’s shoulder, giving him that usual hypnotic smile that can make anyone bow down to him (except for one person). “sorry man, i was just stuck in traffic but i’ll take it from here.”
as you realize your date won’t be coming any time soon and you’ve wasted your time on this, you go to pack up your things only to see someone familiar striding your way.
“suguru?” you ask aloud, blinking.
“(y/n),” he says calmly, “i didn’t expect to see you here.”
a soft chuckle escapes your light fuschia-colored lips that suguru just wants to make sure smears all over his and your face later if this all goes well. “what are you doing here?” you inquire while seemingly embarrassed at the fact you’ve been stood up in front of him.
“my date bailed out on me,” he laughs, a hand scratching the back of his neck. “what about you? didn’t you say that you had a date, too? what happened with him?”
oh, yes. that’s exactly the look that he was aiming for—that solemn smile and empty eyes only lingering with disappointment. bullseye.
“i guess we’re one in the same boat then.”
suguru sits himself down at the other side of your table and fits into the mold of what a proper date should look like, a hand gently touching your cold one that makes you look up at him with a semi-flustered gaze as you take in his full appearance. he really should wear his hair down more. you’ve never seen his arms since he preferred long sleeves, but can you see a tattoo on his muscled arm through the filmy white cloth? suddenly, a heat flashes through your face as you realize who’s sitting across from you and you’re trying so hard to not look at the jealous looks you’re given from others.
he allows you to take time to admire his appearance and he shoves down the urge to speak out about how you’re staring a little too long at his chest that’s peeking out from the three unbuttoned buttons with some ink showing overhead. those blank puppy eyes suddenly widen and the nervous fidgeting starts, along with shaking chuckles.
“let’s be each other’s date, then,” he offers, threading his ringed fingers through the gaps of your own, squeezing it.
and when your hand carefully but tenderly grips his back with half the strength, suguru has realized that he’s won.
No fucking way ive been obsessed w ur fic as we walk since it came out and im also the person whos been popping up once in awhile asking abt u (Babanuuoi) AND i also have been looking 4 ur profile on tumblr because ive read ur fics here a couple of years ago and they've been on my mind since and i couldn't find ur them anymore😭😭(btw hope i got the right person cuz this would be embarrassing if i didnt🤧)
hello! and yes! i do remember you! you did get the right person and i remember you giving me the most support on forgive me, then forget me! thank you for sticking by for such a long time and checking up on me 🫶
in regards to your latest post—ABSOLUTELY. your readers are always here and love whatever you put out—personally I’d love to see your take on trigun!!!!! also I’m just glad to see you update-glad you’re okay? 🫶
thank you! i’ve been slinking back into writing again, and ao3 and tumblr are my top priorities right now, so i’m relieved to hear i still have an audience. trigun has been rotting my brain as of recently, so i hope that there’s at least some people out there that like a blend of my writing and it simultaneously
Hi! I just found your blog and I love it! I just spent the entire night reading staring at the sun and WOW! It's incredible! Please tell me your gonna keep going with it because the cliffhanger you left it on😭
i’ve gotten a few asks over the past couple of months of whether or not sats will continue—and i really want it to! it’s honestly one of my best works and the one i probably like the most that i’ve published, but the only problem is that it’s a pretty lengthy piece that will take some time to get back into the groove of. so, yes, i don’t plan on discontinuing it, but it might take a while to publish a new chapter
warnings: ooc sukuna, nsfw implications, mild body horror
GOJO — prince naveen of maldonia (the princess and the frog)
you'd think that the crown prince of the gojo family would be a little more smart when it comes to encountering yokais hidden in vast forests.
yeah sure, he's academically brilliant. but only a fool would make the mistake of insulting an onryu yokai's appearance.
but gojo satoru, crown prince of the gojo family, is indeed, a fool.
so this dumbass has turned himself into a white fox as a punishment three days before the aoi mitsuri festival and two days before his marriage to a high priestess because as crown prince, it's his duty to unite two kingdoms together as a salvation for peace via tying the knot with a woman he'd only know for two days.
the cure? a blessing from the high priestess herself. or more specifically, a kiss.
he meets you, a humble yet headstrong aspiring chef that had just found out the inn you've had your eye on for years had been sold to a wealthy noblemen a few hours prior, draining all your efforts and money you've built up for the past years down the drain.
while you're dressed in what seems to be high priestess robes and a golden headdress, he finds out that it's your best friend that's the high priestess and she had just lent you the clothing for the party.
he finds this after he forces you to kiss him by the way.
there's one funny thing about onryu yokais: it's that their curses are contagious to those around them
so hooray! you're now stuck as a fox with him! wonderful, right?
in just the span of twenty four hours, the crown prince gojo satoru had insulted a yokai, had it turn him into a fox, met a fake high priestess and kissed her, only for her to turn into a fox with him. now you're stuck together in this sticky situation.
and to think that white foxes were supposed to symbolize good luck.
his luck gets worse when you two are scampered out of the woods because of the salivating coyotes that obviously had you both on their menu
you bicker back and forth about how stupid he was and how you were a liar for calling yourself a high priestess even though you never claimed to be one
somehow, you befriend a kindly and ecstatic witch that's constantly asking who your type of woman is as she lets you and him stay inside her homey inn for the night that's filled with other creatures
gojo asks her if she can create a potion or something to break this silly curse and she says she can, but she lacks the ingredients to do so. so as an exchange for letting her stay safely in her abode, you offer that you and him will go fetch the ingredients first thing in the morning
gojo doesn't agree to this. he claims he was just dragged on.
"a spoiled prince deserves to do at least some labor in his life," you huff as you strut away into your room for the night, leading him to blow an immature raspberry at your closed door.
morning comes
the crown prince wakes up to find out his human limbs have returned! oh, what a joyous day this was! out of excitement, he leaps up from the bed and barges into yours, yelling about how he turned back into a human again
he forgot that you turned back into a human too.
again, a dumbass
you stare at each other for a solid five minutes, paralyzed with shock as he unconsciously analyzes your body.
a piercing shriek rings through the inn that's loud enough to wake every creature inside of it, courtesy of you. gojo has to play dodgeball with the many pillows you throw at him
through an awkward (and properly clothed) breakfast, the witch tells the both of you that the yokai's curse only takes affect at the beginning of twilight, meaning you two had some hours being human before you were turned into foxes again, meaning you still had to gather the ingredients so you and him weren't permanently turned into foxes during the afterhours forever
as you voyage throughout the mountain for a grenadious mushroom (caution! may explode its spores if touched harshly), you and gojo eventually spill your life stories
you came from a low-income, but loving family composed of only you, your brother, your mother, and your deceased father. the confession of how you want to open up a restaurant in honor of your father's love for cooking makes gojo look at you fully for a moment, taking in your real beauty thanks to the sunbeam that seeps through the treetops. it's a little solemn, but it's there and gojo can't deny that little thump in his chest as you laugh out at a joke he makes occasionally.
he tells you that because he's a prince, he's never had to lift a finger, so doing something like this is... somewhat refreshing. he says it's a good chance for him to learn responsibility that doesn't involve being a royal, says it's a good chance to see what a "commoner" life is like and how it makes him think more highly of laborers.
"honestly, i think i could make do as a farmer," he nods at the vision of himself working in the rice fields.
"yeah, maybe. i think you'd be pretty good at it."
"really?!" he exclaims with a wide grin at your "approval."
"no," you shake your head with a soft chuckle. "i was kidding."
"whaaat," gojo whines, "why not?"
"you're already breaking out a sweat and it's been barely two hours. you wouldn't survive agriculture, mr. if-the-slightest-dirt-gets-on-me-i'll-scream."
the crown prince pouts at the waitress that walks in front of him. "okay... say if i wasn't royalty, would you hire me at your restaurant?"
"of course."
he gasps with excitement but it's much short lived when you open your mouth again.
"... not."
GETO — general li shang (mulan)
you always had gotten compliments about your hair; it was your prize possession after all, the one thing that anointed you the family jewel for how beautiful it looked and how elegantly it framed your face.
shame you had to cut 70% of it off the night before you snuck into your father's place for the upcoming war involving the taira and minamoto clans.
you found this a way to salvage yourself after dishonoring yourself at the matchmaker's reunion between you and an unknown husband named geto suguru.
before you had nearly burned his house to ruins, he told you that he was a handsome high general in the imperial army and that marrying him would grant you fame and fortune. you would be getting a life full of lavish and comfort.
but you managed to throw it all away in an instant after you splashed tea on his face after he continued to banter on about how women should know their place in the world, how they should always walk three steps behind their husband, and how they only served as wives and nothing more to their husbands
his dye job was bad anyway. you think you did him a favor
so here you are, suddenly alone with no one else but your trusted horse, a good luck cricket given to you by your grandma, and an annoying, shapeshifting, lizard-like dragon with a patchwork face by your side as you're poorly disguised as a man
you eventually meet the general in charge of new recruits and it takes every single fiber in your body not to react to his titled name
"gentlemen, pay respects to your captain. geto suguru will be leading the way for the genpei war," announces the royal advisor.
geto suguru. the man that was supposed to be your aligned husband was nothing like you imagined him to be.
not that you're complaining because your standards were much lower than anticipated. he's broad and muscular, obviously clean cut with all the scars and bulging muscles that are evident before he puts on his uniform. inky, raven locks flow down his back before he ties half of it up and you think that singular bang that swings back and forth acts like a hypnotizing pendulum.
he declares that he refuses to take any work that's half-assed nor to take on any recruits that refuse to put in the work to survive.
"if you die because you chose to ignore my words, then the fault is no one else but yours," he avows, piercing eminence eyes hardening to show he means business.
to say he's a strict general was an understatement. he was more than strict, he was authoritarian and precise and severe in every single way possible. the worst part is that he doesn't even yell or scold if one slips up—he just gives a disapproving look and makes tasks and exercises harder and harder.
you're given your nth shake of the head when you nearly pass out from carrying small boulders on your back on the five kilometer run that takes place every morning and before you can even get ready for the second exercise of the day, the general clasps your shoulder and tells you to go home.
"this isn't a place for someone like you," he mutters, handing you the reign of your horse before walking eye and leaving you in the dust with snickers and stares boring into you.
of course, you almost decide to go back home and bring even more dishonor to your family. not as a failed soldier, but the fact that a woman has disguised herself as a man, an illegal act. if anyone in the village found out that your family had a disgraceful daughter, you'd burden your family more.
so you take it like a man and refuse to go home despite the general's words and the looks you're given by men much more manlier than you are.
you put in the work and the hours, sacrificing sleep to make sure you break your mile time, making sure that the arrow hits the bullseye, making sure that you can run through the roaring waters with only wooden poles to support you without slipping.
and your efforts go noticed by not only your colleagues, but the general
especially the general
no longer does he give you the shake of his head but instead, encouraging grins as you catch up to him during the morning run, even adding more to your luggage when you feel that the boulders begin to feel like carrying a load of feathers
he realizes you've changed for the better when you prove that you can hit a target's bullseye even on horseback, something that the majority of soldiers haven't even started to master yet.
hell, rumors begin to fly around that you've become the general's favorite
you're relaxing earlier than most soldiers in the hot springs since you completed training much earlier, something you've picked up on doing so you're able to let yourself breathe as your true self for a while
the sent of natural lavender springs whose aroma winds through the air makes you so relaxed, you don't realize the footsteps that come closer to the springs.
when you figure that you've bathed yourself well enough, you begin to swim and walk out of the springs. as you part your hair away from your face, your eyes not only meet the ground, but see another pair of feet. panicking, considering you don't have a towel wrapped around you, you look up and land back into the springs when you're met with general geto suguru's shocked face
his wide eyes go to automatically dart your exposed chest, which you attempt to cover with your hands poorly, as if your arms and hands were enough to cover your naked body.
"i-i can explain," you stutter out, stepping back so you're chin length with the water.
what you can't explain, however, is that little tent in the general's towel wrapped around his waist that's slowly getting bigger oops!
TOJI — flynn rider/eugene fitzherbert (tangled)
the last thing toji fushiguro can remember before getting knocked out with a clang! to his head is finding a secluded tower in the middle of a waterfall's valley somewhere deep in the woods after he spent agonizing ages running from the royal guards after he successfully captured the item going for the most money on the black market
did he climb up the tower with a ladder made of hair or was that a fake memory?
and was he wrapped around a chair with the hair from earlier or is this a hallucination?
oh wow, what a pretty woman, he thinks as he looks up hazily. is that a frying pan in her hand or something else that's circular, black, and metallic? he attempts to give a rugged smile, only to be met with another clang!
aaand he's up again
this time, he's actually semi-conscious and can see clearly the youthful woman clutching the frying pan with a worried look on her face.
"you gonna hit me again with that?" he slurs, gesturing to the frying pan.
clang!
frying pan: 3, master thief toji fushiguro: 0
by the time he's fully conscious, he warns you not to hit him again, saying that he's not gonna do any harm. not that he can, to be fairly honest, considering he's bounded with handcuffs made of... hair.
you interrogate him suddenly, demanding who he was, how he found your tower, and what he wanted from you. he tells you his name is toji fushiguro, admits that he's a rogue on the run, and that all he wanted to do is hide away from the knights until it was safe to come out.
suddenly, he inquiries you harshly about where his cursed spirit is, the spirit responsible for acting like a satchel and also responsible for holding the item that can make or break his life.
"that little ball guy? i hide him," you state proudly.
cursing, he regrets not digesting it earlier. toji eyes the drawer, specifically the second one that's a crack open.
"it's in there, isn't it?"
when you raise the frying pan again, all he can really do is sigh and accept his fate. he's sure he has some sort of minor brain damage by the time the fourth boxing match between him and your weapon of choice comes to a close and this time, you've hidden it well enough to the point where he can't even guess where you hid it
you offer an exchange for the wrinkly, balled up cursed spirit. you pull back a large wall mural that foretells a painted story about fireworks in the night sky. "do you know what this is?" you demand.
"yeah," he shrugs. "the fireworks that celebrate the autumn moon? everyone knows that those are."
"this," you gesture to the paintings. "happens in two days. if you take me to the mid-autumn festival... i'll give you back your worm."
"it's a cursed spirit," toji corrects dully.
"whatever! do we have a deal?" you ask, letting yourself down with a zipline made out of your hair that trails at least 21 meters.
when you jut your hand out, toji merely stares at it, his eyes glancing boredly back to the back of the chair he's bounded to.
"oh! right, sorry," you quickly go to unbind him.
he leaps up from the chair goes to messy your abode, searching everywhere for the cursed spirit and tossing materials over his shoulder. you attempt to pull him back from your underwear drawer, only to limply fall back from his stationary built grounded to the ground.
"i'm not telling you where it is!" you yell, threatening to score the fifth point for the frying pan as you hold it well above your head. "i swear i'll give it back to you if you just do me this one favor! then you'll get it back and forget all about me!"
toji can only groan and rub his forehead, obviously out of options. he gives into your limp offer and surrenders himself reluctantly.
with the handle of the frying pan between your teeth. you meet him down at the bottom of your tower, a sight you've never been able to experience with all your senses before.
out of nowhere, he snickers and pulls out from his pocket one of your underwear as an innocent joke.
"we might need this in the future, you never know."
clang!
SUKUNA — the beast (beauty and the beast)
long ago, there lived a beautiful prince in the heart of a vast and lively kingdom. it has been foretold that despite the goldenheartedness of the kingdom, the castle that ruled over it was gilded and the taintedness of it hid behind a velvet curtain
a ball was once held in celebration of the prince's birthday, only honoring the most worthy and wealthiest of people, people who barely lifted themselves above the bare minimum line of what the prince considered noble
a soft knock came at the castle's door in amidst the party. in came a shy, elderly woman cloaked with a damp hood from all the rain pouring from outside. she asked the prince if she could stay the night temporarily, but her only response was a cackle from the prince and the flick of his wrist, shooing her away.
the old woman suddenly transformed into a dazzling sorcerer, golden sunbeams radiating from her. as a result of the prince's selfishness, she casted a spell over him that transformed him into a monstrous beast.
with the ragged, pained scream tearing out of the prince's throat, the crowd watched in horror as another set of arms ripped out of his back. from the fragments of his handsome face formed a smaller one that masked a third of his original one and under his original eye stretched another. one singular black marking shaped in the form of an upside dew drop faded into his forehead.
the sorcerer warned him as a consequence of his actions, a horrid beast was formed that night. she told him the only way to break the spell was to find someone who could love him despite his haggard appearance, but with every year he failed to do so, another black mark would appear on his skin and the moment all the markings faded into his skin, his fate as a monster would be sealed for eternity until his last breath, letting him die alone and loveless.
sukuna couldn't have imagined that his sealed fate would be opened once again because of a single countrygirl that was too desperate to save her father. perhaps he spent so many years as a ghastly beast that he's forgotten about human sentience for others.
call it a butterfly effect, but he supposes that the outome of this was not quite like any other. his original plan when he threw you into the prison of the castle was to leave you out in the winter night for the wolves, yet he was the cause of his plan being ruined considering something compelled him that night and he acted as your shield against the bare-toothed wolves
the items like you too, especially that one kiddy, chipped tea cup that he keeps forgetting the name of. they're very much fond of who could possibly be the new mistress of the castle, the person who could possibly break the spell
so now he's here. at the bottom of the staircase with anticipation pooling in his stomach.
"where is she?" sukuna grumbled to the clock that waddled towards him.
"patience," aided nanami as the second hand grew closer to the twelve. "she'll be arriving just about... now."
as if on cue, soft piano music began playing in the background and the quiet sounds of heels against the marble floor softly echoed in the corridor. a peek of canary yellow showed from the corner and eventually, your full appearance unveiled to him.
there you were, at the top of the staircase—a golden gown flowing from your hips like a glimmering cascade, your shoulders being revealed by the grandeur dress that showed ever the shy peek of cleavage
you were nervous gliding down the stairs, considering sukuna's eyes were locked onto your figure.
"tell her she looks beautiful," gojo, the candelabra whispered to him before he flicked his flames on for a more romantic atmosphere.
as you gently approached him, your hand being softly engulfed in his, sukuna felt his breath hitch when you gave him a tender smile of acknowledgement
"she looks beautiful," he rasped out.
enter a chorus of groans from the cursed objects.
"e-excuse me?" you blinked.
"i mean," he coughed, "you... look beautiful," sukuna corrected.
"not too bad yourself, prince charming," you murmur lightheartedly as sukuna lead you down the ballroom that was also the place where his transformation occurred
a place that haunted him for years on end was now suddenly turning into a place to be filled with lovable memories, memories that would outshine the emotive, haunting ones. and this waltz would just be the start of it
"i haven't danced in years," sukuna admitted as an orchestra began to harmonize with the piano.
you swore he pulled you in just a little closer as time passed, just the two of you gently guiding each other in this spacious ballroom.
"i've haven't danced at all," you confessed.
"i can tell," he let out an inaudible grunt. "you've been stepping on my feet for the past two minutes."
you exclaim and move a little bit backwards. but, the mere inch you stepped back had made the heel of your shoe tangle with the fabric of your dress. from the swift reactions that only a beast could hold, sukuna caught you by the waist before you could hit the floor, unintentionally dipping you.
the sentience that was within you the night you pleaded for him to let your father out seeped into him. upon noticing your shocked expression, he asked worriedly, "are you alright?"
"quite," you chuckle ineptly as he heaved you back up. "thank you."
the waltz continued on, the songs continuing to sing within the echo of the chamber. you had managed to get the hang of the rhythm of the song eventually and silkily, you let him carry the both of, the tails of your dress dusting up against the floor.
you found it quite humorous how feathery, how cautious his touch on your skin was despite the claws that pricked out of his hands. again, you felt sukuna pull you closer to him as the song began to answer its curtain call and you don't think you were going to restrict yourself from his touch anytime soon.
it wasn't only his body that neared yours, but also his face (or faces in this case). up close, you could see the loneliness swimming in his ruby red eyes. they were the result of all the years spent being only the somewhat human mortal inside this isolated castle and you could tell that if he were to pile anything more on this mound of nothingness, he was going to collapse.
but somehow, you found comfort within this empty castle for the past few months being held captive, if you could call it that anymore considering you were treated like royalty inside it despite being a simple daughter of a mechanic.
you found a warmth within it, within him. and call it what you will, but you truly did find a to-be-mended heart within all those cemented layers of aloofness, savagery, and hardheadedness. though you weren't sure how, you cracked through all of them somehow
so when one of his four hands cupped your face and pulled you in a little closer, you did nothing except let him, putting your trust in the supposed beast. you allowed him to shallow his own breath on yours before his lips almost closed the distance.
everything would've set into place in that moment
... only if you didn't see a mark sallow underneath his smaller eye, slowly seeping into his skin like leaking ink.
please ah!! i loved your celeb au so much <3 can we pls get a part 2? thank u
celebrity!jjk men when you get brought up during an interview (pt two)
includes: yuuji, megumi, yuuta
i’m hoping i can push out a part three by tomorrow since i really wanna do something with choso, toge, sukuna, and naoya, but if not then thursday it is!
YUUJI — actor, voice actor, occasional youtuber (literally a carbon copy of tom holland if i’m gonna be honest)
a former child actor appearing on multiple children shows, he’s used to bright lights and paparazzi. they’re growing considerably larger because of his latest appearance in his most recent marvel movie with six eyes, aka satoru gojo, as vessel, a superhero who’s essentially a mix of venom and dr. jekyll and mr. hyde
he’s laughing and talking with a late night host, even going to perform a couple of corny covers of the latest hits and playing some games like spill your guts or fill your guts
he earns a mixture of disgusted looks, wide eyes, and laughs when he willingly slurps up some bird saliva, and a clip of him going, “honestly, can i have seconds? that was kinda tasty.” goes viral overnight
suddenly, the host brings up his upcoming movie that comes out next year, but the trailer that was shown in his movie has already been the talk of social media
it’s a continuation of his movie, the sequel that involves his female sidekick who can place her conscious in the body of anyone she desires. she appears only in the comics for now and still has a couple of female actresses pending for the role
one of them being you, an actress around his age famous for starring as apart of an iconic side couple in a trending netflix series
the audience snickers and childishly goes, “ooh~” when yuuji flushes a deep red on his face, smiling a little too large when your latest photoshoot is brought to the screen. the reason why everyone’s so teasing of him is because his retweets of your posts on twitter, even hitting the trending page
one of your original posts is posted on screen. the picture is you smiling, alone at the movie theatre wearing his merchandise that includes a cap of vessel’s markings, a jacket, and fake tattoos on your face. your wide smile is gleaming to the camera with a winked eye fenced by a peace sign as you balance a large tub of popcorn that has him and six eyes onto it, the post being labeled with, “been waiting forever for this! i even didn’t eat my popcorn during the trailers, see!”
his retweet is then added with the text of “you went all out with the merch haha! i really hope you get the role of intellect :)”
“favoritism, much?” the host cooes, the “laugh” sign lighting up for the audience
he doesn’t stop there and exposes yuuji’s little crush even more with a devilish smile. the screen goes to show his likes of your instagram posts and how they’ve stayed consistent as of recently. it follows up with a screenshot of your instagram story and how he’s following you on every platform, you returning the favor back
“ah,” the host sighs, watching as yuuji attempts to stutter a clear explanation of his recent internet actions. “young love.”
MEGUMI — fashion model
the face of multiple sports and luxury brands, including ten shadows, the upcoming rival of brands like ysl and prada, the son of ufc fighter toji fushiguro a relatively reserved person, unlike his other famous peers
he has social medias, but they’re rarely ever active. he really only posts about his many pets or books he’s reading with no captions. it’s either that or he flat out never posts
he did, however, accidentally start an instagram live only for it to end as quickly as possible despite the 38k people that flooded in, his only words in the fully dark screen being, “how do you turn this off?”
in his photoshoots, too, megumi rarely smiles. he chooses to strike a colder demeanor, one that allures people for his mysterious aura
so it surprises the nation when one day, a discrete photo of him in a cafe goes viral. but it isn’t the fact that he’s out in public that causes a stir, it’s the fact that he’s with someone. and he’s smiling.
“Ten Shadows Model Megumi Fushiguro on a Date with Secret Girlfriend?!” screams one news source
“dont u have a better angle or something? ://” retweets twitter user megiguro of the original post.
“Learn more about Megumi Fushiguro’s ‘Hushed Girlfriend’, (Y/N) (L/N) here!” tells the latest celebrity gossip magazine page, the blurry photo front and center for everyone to see the model resting a hand on his cheek as he stares at the girl seated across from him, only her back profile being shown
more and more photos arise. one is of him in a mask holding your hand as you both admire the penguins in the local zoo. another is taken from inside his apartment, the uncurtained window revealing his head in your lap as you both watch yuuji itadori’s latest movie. but the one that causes the entire nation to blow up in a flurry of reactions is the one of him kissing you gently in the back of a car, your chin tucked safely between his fingers
news quickly leaks about a local college student majoring in veterinary studies and literature and it isn’t long until most of your information is revealed to the public
you text megumi in a worry, your identity accidentally being revealed all too soon, but he doesn’t even have time to text you a comforting message back because his manager practically shoves him onto the morning news stage
he already knows the questions that are to come. all he can really do is force a stiff smile that almost looks painful to emit.
the moment finally arrives when one of the hosts asks him, “so would you like to tell us more about your little sweetheart?” with a prying smile. megumi’s smile droops slightly at the nickname he’s given you. “you guys have been all the talk as of lately, how did you both meet?
he really can’t deny he has a relationship, no matter how much he’ll try to attempt. the photos tell everything everyone needs to know.
megumi doesn’t really have a choice but to answer, but he needs to answer as plainly as possible to protect your relationship and you. “she was reading one of the books i recommended in the park i was walking in one day and i asked her what she what she thought of it. we hit it off from there.”
“this photo,” the other hosts begins, motioning to the screen that shows the iconic car photo that makes megumi go rigid from the frustration of the lack of privacy given to him—and the press wonders why he chooses to shut himself in. “has caused quite a stir among the general public. were you two coming back from a date here?”
his smile drops entirely. “i think that’s something i don’t feel the need to disclose,” he answers flatly.
“o-oh,” the host stammers. she nervously laughs before continuing. “well, is there anything you’d like to say to (y/n)? she’s probably watching, right?”
she’s not wrong, but megumi knows you’re probably watching the interview while biting your fingernails, anxious to what the public thinks of an ordinary college girl that’s dating a global supermodel. the look he gives to the camera says, “no matter what, i’ll protect you” but the words that come out of his mouth are not directed towards you, but to everyone who chooses to pry more than they should.
“i humbly ask everyone to leave us by and respect our privacy. while it’s expected of this behavior from people who choose to indulge themselves in other peoples’ lives, i do request everyone to leave my girlfriend alone.“
his scolding doesn’t stop there. he’s practically glaring at the camera with a stare so intimidating, the camera man has to shift eye contact from his piercing emerald gaze that mimics his father’s. “i see everything that goes on, including the rude remarks made by people that supposedly call themselves my ‘fans.’ those people are not my fans, they’re proud harassers that have too much pride behind a screen for my liking. my personal life is my business and my business alone, no one else needs to meddle in it.“
it’s safe to say that the interview was cut short.
YUUTA — entrepreneur (created a live streaming program called RIKA), occasional actor
a child genius labeled at birth, the cousin of satoru gojo had launched his program at only the tender age of nineteen and to say that it took off well was an understatement
maybe it was because of his cousin’s consistent advertising and commercializing off the site, but either way, it received many positive reviews from other live streaming services to his since his was considerably easier to navigate and use
and it’s not only used for video gaming either now. people label it as the “new youtube”, one that might take over the monster video sharing powerhouse
needless to say, timid little yuuta okkotsu had made it to the top much faster than he anticipated. all that work and dedication of coding and programming (it’s no wonder those dark circles are as heavy as they seem no matter how much concealer an mua attempts to apply) has paid off
one day, as he’s casually scrolling across the featured channels, he sees an artist livestreaming to only an audience of one hundred and ten viewers. it’s been going on for about an hour now and he hesitates whether or not to join it, considering it’ll be noticeable when the creator of RIKA would be joining in on a small creator’s live
so he makes a second account lol
user0307001 eventually joins the live and he’s automatically greeted with a warm smile and cheery hello from the aproned artist who’s elegantly painting a six foot tall painting of an abstract human face
the artist’s community is welcoming and friendly and respectful, often asking questions like “how was your day, (y/n)?” or “what paints are you using?”
user0307001 types into the chat a little later after watching, “who are you painting? i really like your style :)”
the way you instantly go wide-eyed and flushed at the comment makes yuuta second guess his decision and debates whether hacking into the system and deleting his comment as a whole. did he offend you?!
“ah,” you start, fiddling with your paintbrush. “this is so… this is so embarassing but you guys know the owner of RIKA, right?”
many of the comments go “yes!” “yup” “yeah, y?” while some still gift you little stickers worth only $1 a piece (yuuta thinks it’s really cute how you spent ten minutes trying to see if you can refund them because you didn’t want your audience spending money on you)
“is it weird to say that i find him a little cute?” you murmur, occupying yourself with furiously painting the background. “i-i mean, don’t get me wrong, this looks absolutely nothing like him, i just thought his face was interesting enough to paint… he seems very kind, don’t you think? maybe it’s something to do with people and downturned eyes?”
yuuta’s face is on absolute fire and he can see in the black of the screen background his face is flushed to the max. no one has really seen him as a face but rather an image for RIKA, so for someone who he had just “met” a few mere minutes ago to see him as a person brought a burn to both his cheeks and heart.
“oh, i can kind of see it now!” joe sabia, the creator of vogue’s 73 questions laughs as he stares more and more at the colorful painting displayed at the very front of a shared apartment. “how adorable, what a unique love story! but now your fiancee has an audience of over a fifty thousand people every time she streams now, right?”
yuuta, now an occasional actor for his cousin’s screenings and six years older than he was back when he told joe the story of the odd painting hanging at the apartment’s foyer, nods and chuckles. “everyone wants to see history being made, so i don’t blame them for flooding her streams.”
joe looks over to an open area of the apartment, the one that faces the floor to ceiling windows. he hears an echoed voice talking to what seems to be particularly no one happily. “is the modern day frida kahlo doing her magic in there?” he asks. “you mind if we take a peek?”
he nods politely, leading the interviewer to the open room. “i’m sure her viewers wouldn’t mind another guest.”
