if i haven't convinced you to watch the apothecary diaries already by my frequent ramblings about it, please consider the fact that there was a suggestive scene in the previous episode wherein the main lead WHIMPERS (!!) (his shit was grabbed accidentally by FL) and his dub va is kaiji tang. sounds familiar??? yes that is THEEE dub va of THEE gojo satoru that said "you cryin??" so, in conclusion:
WATCH APOTHECARY DIARIES TO HEAR GOJO (REINCARNATED AS A BABYGIRL IN IMPERIAL CHINA) WHIMPER!!! (100% REAL, WILL NOT REGRET)
plus points: it's a mystery drama first and romance one second (and the mystery is SO GOOD), female lead is a woman in STEM (!!) and the best mc i've seen tbh, the drama is surrounding mostly women's politics (and who doesn't love women!!) , male lead is a YEARNERRRR, they'll kiss by the end of the second season, it's SUPER popular so i believe it'll keep getting animated but there's a manga and light novel going strong :')
THIS IS NO SHADE TO THE POSTER OF THIS BECAUSE I UNDERSTAND THEIR OPINION. THERE IS ALOT OF THINGS I CRINGE AT AND SCROLL AWAY FROM AS WELL..
But yall know NONE of this real life right? Lol none of it. These are fictional characters with fictional backstories in a fictional universe. And fan fic is used to expand on that universe or create your own. Whether you wanna make Toji sound like a 30 something year old man born and raised on the east coast, make Gojo a rich boy from California…or when we make any of the JJK men attracted to black women or immersed in black culture lol or whatever your beautiful mind wants to make him..Do it. Because theres an audience for it. Please don’t be discouraged about what to write over others opinions.
We don’t get paid for this and do alot of it for comfort so if you want to make the most non-canon version of your favorite character, then do it❤️ someone will enjoy it.
well hello again, i know it has been a while. There was such a hassle regarding my state of health, so writing wasn’t my top priority - i am utterly sorry for that.
But i assure you the second chapter is coming your way, i hope you like the minor snippet as seen above. I tried to spoil some of the action coming to you in a (hopefully) cool way. UHHH AND THE NEXT CHAP WILL HAVE SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR YOUUUU!!!!
I already have the following chapters planned, so hopefully i‘m able to be quicker with the updates!
Last song: No One Else from the cast recording of Great Comet 'cause ~winter~
Fav colour: Purple 🔮🪻
Last Book: The Great Gatsby for class and I've been picking at Devotions by Mary Oliver for a little while too
Last Movie: The Holdovers
Last TV show: Either Buffy or X-files (I can't remember and I watched them in the same sitting)
Sweet/savory/spicy: Sweet! <3
Relationship Status: Single :)
Last thing I googled: 'The Little Prince' to find out who the author was
Current Obsession: Been loving buffy!! I also have a little backlog of movies I've been saving and now that I'm on break I've been starting at that which has been fun!
Looking forward to: The Holidays, seeing my family & friends, performing later in february!
Tagging: @recklessandyoung @anxiously-obnoxious-poet17 @stygeanbluebasilsprout @imasillygooose @notsogreatpotoo & any of my mutuals because I have so many!!
Last song: Little Green Bag by The George Baker Selection
Fav colour: Green 💚🍀🌿
Last book: Dracula by Bram Stoker, and I’ve also been (slowly, due to my poor choice of reading so many books at once) reading Utopia by Thomas Moore
Last movie: Inglorious Basterds and The Holdovers
Last tv show: The X Files
Sweet/savoury/spicy: Savoury :3
Relationship status: Single as a pringle baby
Last thing I googled: Inglorious Basterds soundtrack (cause I want to experience listening to just the soundtrack and I want it to be the right songs)
Current obsession: Quentin Tarantino movies!! I’ve recently started watching them for my first time (so far I’ve seen Django unchained, Kill Bill, vol. 1 & 2, Reservoir Dogs and I’m in the middle of watching Inglorious Basterds) and they’re my main hyperfixations being the cinephile I am ~ I also really love Twin Peaks and The X Files (so basically it’s Quentin Tarantino and David Lynch stuff lmao)
Looking forward to: Seeing some family and my chosen family, getting to watch more movies during my holidays, hopefully seeing some friends and spending time with my immediate family!
Np tags: @reptiles-of-the-mind @a-ravens-musings @waitingforthesunrise @oliveristired-snoremimimi and anyone else who wants to join
My, my, a game? I would be happy to participate. Thank you for tagging me. ^^
Last Song: Ruler of My Heart (SUA.ver) | Alien Stage
(Sua's version of this song sounds very passionate and intimate in my opinion. I imagined for a second that this song could have been seeing Fyodor through the reader's point of view hahaha. Would have been mine personally. > <⸝⸝)
Favorite Color: Pastel colors like light pink, baby blue, lilac, etc. are my favorite.
Last Book: I'm still reading the book Republic by Plato. Additionally, I have seen Quality's new fanfic (a cult Fyodor series!! 🥹), but I haven't read it yet. I plan on reading that very soon too and share my thoughts about it with her!
Last Movie: Interview with the Vampire (1994)
Last TV Show: I have recently finished watching the second season of Squid Game, but on the other hand, I am continuing to watch The Disastrous Life of Saiki K. during my free time.
Sweet/Savory/Spicy: Sweet till the end ! I have a really big sweet tooth. >:}
Relationship Status: Single, unfortunately. 💔 (But if a guy were to make a move on me, I would cry. I'm terrified of men. Gimme Fyodor.)
Last Thing I Googled: white chrysanthemum flower symbolism
Current Obsession: Fyodor Dostoevsky from Bungou Stray Dogs as if I haven't mentioned him enough here and make it clear as day. 😭 I also think it’s worth mentioning Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun. (I've been active in this fandom now for 5 years. And after reading the recent chapters my obsession only gotten worse. I have an emotional attachment to this manga. The second season of the anime is about to be aired too.)
Looking Forward To: Responding to the messages. Lately, I've been feeling blue both because I've been busy with my studies and because I've received some unfortunate news (which I can’t share with anyone, sorry) so I couldn't find the energy to reply to anyone. My thoughts were completely focused on these. I hope no one felt ignored as I certainly read everything you wrote and I'm glad that you guys want to engage in a conversation with me. I do intend to get back to you all as soon as I can, I need more time. I need to process things and pull myself together. I'm sorry if I hurt the feelings of any of you. I'm just struggling.
I want to extend my warmest wishes to each of you for a truly lovely day ahead. Remember to take care of yourselves and stay safe. Kisses and more kisses! <3
Thank you for the tag , dear! Take care and focus on yourself. Wishing the 2025 to be a lot better for you.🩷
Last Song: Art Deco by Lana Del Rey(it was on Wednesday. Now looking back on it … the lyrics hit home).
Favourite Colour: Honestly , I don’t have one. For the longest time it was blue till lately . But if I have to answer with something, it’s gonna be pink.
Last Book: “Tales of horror “ by Edgar Allan Poe ( just strated it)
Last Movie: Klaus and jjk 0 ( yes , both are rewatch for me.
Last Tv Show: Again jjk. Inventory arc have my heart okay!
Sweet/Savoury/Salty: Sweet, I have a big sweet tooth. On rare occasion I do crave salty stuff.
Relationship Statuts: A day ago , I was very much in a relationship. As for now… who knows.
Last Thing I Googled: Navigation stuff ( not for me tho, these things can’t save me from becoming lost)
Current Obsession: Vampires , knitting , all the anime I look forward to write for.
Looking Forward To : Well… right now I’m not in the right state of mind, a lot have happened. For that, I will have to say just taking care of myself. I’m luckily that all of the people around me wants the best for me , so it’s now time for me to want that too.
Tags ( no pressure 🩷): @suguru-getos @avaults @everythingseasoning
Take care , all of you amazing people. I hope life is treating you good and if it’s not , then I wish it gets better. Remember , always drink water and look after yourself!
Thank you so much for tagging me! Such a fun way to get to know people a little more 🙂↕️
Hoping everything will sort out for you in 2025!🍀☺️
Last song: Unwritten - Natasha Bedingfield
Fav color: blue (either pastel or navy) 🩵💙
Last book: Rabid - the savage spirit of Seneca Rain by Ivy Asher and Raven Kennedy
Last movie: raya and the last dragon 🐉
Last tv show: deranged detective
Sweet/savory/salty: tough one, i can’t decide between savory and sweet
Relationship status: pretty complicated
Last thing i googled: skid 100mg (needed to know the active substance)
Current obsession: deranged detectice, spice books (fantasy, dark romance as of right now), skincare and makeup (regular reoccurrence), geto (jjk) and hisoka (hxh)
Looking forward to: upcoming movies,animes and events (concerts, birthdays, etc.), lots of new medical stuff is happening for me in 2025 so yeah i’m super curious and nervous
Tags (no pressure tho!🩵): @fushitoru @starrygetou @konekochanxhisoka
Wishing you all the best for the upcoming year! Hopefully there will be less hardships and more joy in 2025 <3 take care and keep your heads held high - much love 💞
from false pretense - a bridgerton!au starring suguru geto
pairing: suguru geto x female reader (zenin)
ch. summary: as daughter of the zenin household, your parents expect no less than perfection of you - their precious emerald! so what happens if the queen sees you; will she have the same perception of you? (3.8k)
content/warnings: bridgerton au, regency era au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, misogyny, bullying, jealousy, mentions of alcohol and explicit contents, mental health issues, death, academic themes, breaking society’s norms and expectations, geto is as prideful as ever, reader pretending to be someone else, both being a pain
author's gossip: bonjour, it's me - Anna! so the first chapter has finally arrived and I hope you like it. thank you very much for taking your time to read - please enjoy! special thanks to @fushitoru <3
Dearest gentle reader,
welcome to yet another season of family representatives entering into society. Alongside mamas making sure their daughters shimmer as brightly as a star, are young eligible men using the opportunity to check whose sparkle might fit themselves. Weeks, months and hours are spent on preparing these young women for their debut to society - all in hopes of impressing her majesty. Though whom may the queen deem worthy enough to take place among her most prized collection of jewelry and will therefore earn the title as this year’s most desired debutante; earning this season’s title as the most incomparable - the diamond of the season.
Upon society’s excitement on to whose daughter will bedazzle the crowd and especially the queen the most to make the final cut, are also rumors lingering as to whom may grace us with their decision to fully participate in the courting related events regarding public. But before we will dive into every mother’s most anticipated part of this very column, I shall inform you about whom many males and also the queen herself have set their sights on. There are two young women who are currently being favored not only for their looks, but also for their standings in society as well as their exquisite mannerisms proven in minor gatherings before. Both are of exceptional lineages. One being miss Iori, daughter of viscount Iori and the other one is in fact a close friend of hers; miss Zenin of the Zenin household. Bear with me as we pay attention to what future will hold spare for these two little birds.
Now onto the most important part for many - during most recent days it has come to my attention that whispers surrounding this season’s attendees have steadily increased in volume. So much so, that I could not do other but to investigate those myself for I can confirm wether it is of great value or impact to society. So now this very author can confirm with joy that none other than Suguru Geto, heir to duke Geto, is preparing to pay his full attention on finding himself a match. Will he succeed on the mirage market though? We certainly shall see as men of the Geto household are said to be rather demanding and expectant. So far every woman that has entered into this house’s rows excelled with not only a grande skillset in music and literature but also in holding proper conversations to entertain audience. Additionally these women were able to continuously display more than perfect knowledge of their ranks in society and value to their partner. Though lord Suguru Geto holds quite the reputation for being much too prideful, causing him to be rather distant and disregarding towards others - especially those lower in rank. Will this apply to the dames and debutantes as well? We certainly will be kept on edge for this forthcoming quest.
Yours truly - Lady Whistledown
A huff escapes your mother’s lips as she laid this weeks print aside on the surface of your vanity, taking one last judging look at your appearance. A certain expression begins to take place on her visage, indicating that she is not yet fully content with your attire. Intrigued, you gather your nerves in order to speak up properly: „Mama, I fear you are not content with my looks so how may I improve them to your liking? Dare I recommend some striking jewelry?“. Your mother pauses with examining you to contemplate said thoughts of yours. After a moment of thinking, she responds: „My dear, that is certainly a sparkling idea. But what pieces shall we choose upon? We must keep your attire a certain amount of interesting, yet without making your look overbearing.“. „I share those very thoughts . As of now I dare say I look rather plain and I am afraid that colorless or neutral jewelry may not do much on improving the simplicity of my looks, instead it might further the dullness of it.“. Mindlessly you rise from your seat to leave for the room inside the manor where all the prized jewelry is stored and cared for.
As you are strutting down the hallway leading to the room, you glance over your shoulder to see your mother following suit with a pleased smile gracing her lips. Though you love your mother dearly, you can not deny the frustration lingering deep within your stomach. All throughout your life, you were raised to obey and please you parents every wishes in order to prepare you for mirage - according to Zenin’s standard of values of course. A certain amount of pressure constantly being laid upon you. You shall not disappoint and dishonor this family’s name ever by making a fool out of yourself or others. You shall experience quite the education; enough to uphold a proper conversation and interest potential suitors, enough to entertain audience with your social skillset during gatherings - but never shall you receive too much education to form a mind of your own and cause commotion with it. Do not speak up and do not talk back. Especially to your elders.
Once your reach the desired spot, you bring yourself to break away from those constricting feelings and to focus on the task at hand. Finding the right piece of jewelry is hard, especially from such a vast collection as that of your family. Rows and rows of silvers or golds either covered in sapphires, rubies, pearls, diamonds or emeralds are in front of you. Thus making it hard to choose from, especially the emeralds which your family is known for. Fully engulfed in the sheer beauty by the gems, you do not notice the presence of your brother Naoya until he clears his throat, making it known that he is in the room with you. His disapproving stare is burning through your skin, leaving residuals deep within your bones. More than enough to leave you with chills regularly.
Shaking off those unsettling stares, you redirect your attention and soon enough decide on a pair of sapphire studded earrings to try on along with a matching necklace. Once you applied the jewelry you study the improved look in the mirror, just to hear Naoya’s typical disregarding scoff: „Dear sister, I do not interfere with your looks much for neither do I care or share some interest in, though if you might ask me you should refrain from using anything blueish. It seems blue dulls your complexion by far, letting you resemble that of a corpse’s.“. „Naoya Zenin, this is certainly no way to treat a woman, especially your sister!“. „I am only stating the obvious. I am not at fault for my sister being so sensitive to critique. I suggest you improve that trait of yours instead of focussing on some jewelry in an attempt to do so with your looks. After all you did not inherit this family’s genes much; you are hideous. Your skills I will not fur-„. „Naoya Zenin, you are to leave this room immediately as I no longer tolerate such disdainful behavior! If you dare to refuse my very command then you leave me no other choice but to talk to your father regarding your allowances. In fact I will have him cut them.“. „But mother-„. „Enough! Now take your leave.“. As Naoya takes off, you relax a little. Letting out a breath you absentmindedly withheld. Though, his words keep circling your mind the time you turn your attention back to the mirror. It seems you can not let go of this hurtful comment and form judgement of your own. Sadly you do see his point, which makes you even more frustrated.
Just then you hear your father calling out for you, signaling you that you do not have much more time left to make choices. Unfortunately this only adds to your level of stress, that build up in the recent hours. So without another thought left to spare you quickly put the sapphires back in their place: „Oh mommy, this will simply not do! I hate to admit it, but my brother is right. Blue does not favor my complexion and actually makes me look like living death. Additionally it seems I do not have enough time left to make the right decision in jewelry as father already called out for me. I am afraid I will be at fault for us not making it to the announcement in time.“. „My dear do not fret too much. Sadly we do have not more time left, but I am certain you will select the right set of accessories soon. Just close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, then let your heart choose.“. Those words of wisdom offered you some reassurance and without a doubt you follow suit. Breathe in - breathe deep - breathe out et voilà, your gaze lands on emerald embedded earrings with an equally decent necklace to pair with. You can feel your whole face sparkling up upon applying them, knowing you just made the perfectly right decision. The emerald’s color accentuates your features nicely and boost your complexion. An additional prospect is that it adds some touch of color to your otherwise very dull ensemble of all white fabrics. Your mother can not help but let out a squeal of pure joy as she takes your gleeful appearance in: „My precious girl, these pieces of jewelry suit you so well! They make this whole attire of yours complete - making you shimmer like a gem yourself. A positive aspect that comes along with it is that you subtly represent your family’s color with it as well. Like a true Zenin indeed. Your father will be very pleased by that. But now we shall leave or else we might really be late.“. Just then your father calls out for you yet again, this time though you can hear the slight agitation in voice. Your mother already hushes you out the room and down the stairs, where you meet your fathers expectant gaze. „I am sorry daddy, I just put a lot of effort into looking perfectly presentable and also representable. I guess it took up more time than I initially calculated it would. I will make sure to keep that in mind the next time we will prepare for an event.“ Your fathers stern visage softens at your words: „It is alright, we are still on time though I would have appreciated it if you responded to my calls instead of letting me believe it fell to death ears. I was getting worried for a moment. Other than that I see you managed well. So far I am very content with your looks and I see that you added our house’s color to it - makes me really happy.“. Besides him is your brother trying his best to keep the already forming disgust on his face at bay. Instead in an attempt to to mask it he clears his throat, drawing the attention: „As much as I hate to interrupt this conversation, I might remind you we shall take our leave or I fear we will not arrive in time.“ Silently agreeing you step to the carriage to take a seat for the ride ahead. The ride itself is not long and also not filled with much talking as everyone is lost in their own thoughts based on the anxiety and stress swirling the air.
Though the moment you enter the grounds of the palace your thoughts seem to falter and you are mesmerized by the palace’s beauty of architecture. This interest keeps your nerves at bay until you are pulled out from your daydreams by your mother, pulling you inside the preparation room for the presentation. Your father and Naoya have split from you two prior, to secure themselves a good spot in the audience. After all Naoya still has to find himself a wife. Preparations for the parade are fleeting, only tucks and tufts of feathers and fabrics are left to do. Otherwise the looks are already set. Every young woman in attendance is clad in white, though there are attempts to from each to draw attention with details; Either with the arrangement and amount of feathers, the distinct scents of perfumes applied or the ever so bedazzling jewelry the decided on. Scanning the room, your eyes land on a head of raven hair not too far away.seeing that as your opportunity to calm your steadily rising nerves by striking up a small conversation with your friend prior to the parade. „Viscountess Iori, Utahime! It is such a delight to see you two.“. Utahime spins around, a bright smile latched on her lips: „Madame Zenin, Y/n - I am relieved to see you. Stress is steadily consuming me. So much so that for a second I felt like I was on the verge of crying.“. „I see what you are talking about, I actually feel the same way about this event and everything regarding it. Though dare I might say, that your attire is really stunning today.“. „Thank you very much, it is really kind of you. But I may say so about your ensemble as well - truly shimmering. I fear you are greater completion than I expected.“. „Truth be told, it will be very exciting for us. But I worry we are not the only ones in competence unlike lady Whistledown has reported.“ Looking around the room she agrees: „You certainly are right, I can spot several who have diamond worthy potential.“ While approximately 15 young ladies are adding finishing touches in attempts to calm their nerves, only a handful of them stand out - at least to you; one woman in particular. A striking aura to fit her upright posture, clad in a dress tailored to favor her already slander shape. Sadly your observations are disturbed by to footmen ordering the guests into positions, announcing we will parade alphabetically. Unfortunately you are the last in line to present themselves, adding only further to the stress. You know that as time goes by, it will be harder for the queen to focus and therefore making it harder for her to decide, especially if there are several shining young ladies. So what if she has already made her choice by the time you step foot into the very hall. Your patience begins waning resulting in your posture lacking necessary tension, but your mother aside you is quick to notice and reminds you of it. After collecting yourself and fixing your posture, your name is being called - indicating for you to parade.
Once you are making your way down to the queen, you take chance to check for familiar faces. You even manage to spot your father and Naoya, some of your cousins, viscount Iori and even some dukes you have heard of, but there is someone among them who catches your eyes - one you have not seen or heard of before. Tall and lean with hair black as ink cascading down his shoulders and onto his chest. His raven hair framing his face, pulling focus on his striking features matching his even complexion. Eyes sharp and lips so soft adding to his extraordinary facial structure, one unlike any other you have seen before. As if god himself carved this very man out of marble. Simply heavenly. To your demise though he seems to notice your stare and averts his gaze somewhere into the audience, his eyes narrowing. His facial expression switching from discontent to boredom occasionally. Feeling the blush of embarrassment building on your chest, you redirect your own gaze ahead. Upon arriving in front of the queen, you present her your long practiced greeting. „My my, what do we have here? Please rise so I can take a better look.“. You follow the queens order wordlessly. „Th emeralds you wear are very dazzling. I must admit it suits you well - they are accentuating your beauty. And as I recall these emeralds equal your family’s colors, am I right?“. „Yes, your majesty.“. „Mhmm, very sparkling indeed…“. With these words you are dismissed along with the rest of society for the queen has to take a break in order to close her diamond wisely.
Seeing as your parents are pleased with your behavior, you excuse yourself to go fetch some fresh a air on the terrace. There you find Utahime and enjoy some catching up before deciding to head back inside. But you are interrupted by Naoya who stands in the entrance to the hall leading back to the ballroom, blocking you from entering. Your brother lets Utahime pass, telling her you two will follow soon after. But something is off; it is unlikely for your brother to meet you unless it is either in his favor or to torment you: „Do tell brother, what brings you outside?“. „Am i not allowed to catch a breath of fresh air myself before accompanying my dear sister back to the hall?“. „There is no problem with that, though it seems very unlike you for you to be so caring. So what do you want to tell me this time?“. „Well it is not something I want to tell you but rather something I want to question you about.“. „Alright go ahead so we can return as fast as possible, I am sure the queen will announce the diamond soon.“. „Well then, what happened during the parade?“. Taken aback, you respond confused: „I do not know what your speaking of? I paraded perfectly, no tripping or loss of balance.“. Naoya begins to circle you, mustering you: „Hard for me to admit, but you did. Though I did not meant that. What I want to know is what your relationship with him is?“. „What do you mean? Which relationship? With whom?“. Naoya stops in front of you, taking a step closer to you: „Do not play dumb. I am speaking of Suguru Geto!“. „I swear I do not know whom you are talking about. I have not heard of a so called `Suguru Geto´ except in lady Whistledown’s article, I do not even know what he looks like.“. „Oh sister, this will not do so let me rephrase my question. The raven haired man I saw you staring at earlier - what is your relation to him?“. You scoff at his ridiculousness, deciding it is enough you make way for the hallway. „I am tired of this nonsense so I will return on my own.“. Stepping in, Naoya threatens you: „You will not or else I will share my suspicions with the rest of the family and ruin your very being like no-one else will. So tell me, are you involved in an affair with this man?“. „No, i am not involved with this man or anyone. I would not ever dare to even think about adultery. Are you content now?“. „No, no, no… then why was there a bush all over you? This usually only happens when two parties engaged in improper activities before…“. „Or this happens out of embarrassment. Embarrassment of him catching me staring.“. „But that is exactly what I was talking about? If you keep avoiding me, then I am afraid you leave me no there choice but to walk up to-„.
Luckily your father disrupts the two of you tough upon seeing the anger splashed across his face, you consider yourself not so lucky anymore: „Young lady just what do you think you are doing here? Catching some fresh air? Or rather having a chat with your brother? Whatever it is ends now and so does your reckless behavior. Just this morning I thought you will not cause commotion for once, but I was disappointed yet again. You missed the announcement - missed the chance of becoming the diamond and making up for all your missteps along the way. This will have consequences; for the both of you! Naoya you should only fetch her so why did I end up doing it myself instead?“. Naoya is the first to speak up: „I am sorry father, but she just threw a fit and got me involved into this. I am innocent, I swear!“. „Spare all your excuses for later, when we will discuss this thoroughly. Now let us return to the hall and fetch your mother. She already took over and congratulated the diamond in our name.“. Leaving you no option, he drags you down the hall way and into the ballroom to fetch your mother rather quickly before scurrying off into the carriage. The carriage ride home is filled with your father’s rage on what happened at the announcement. Your mother sits in silence besides him, disappointment all across her face and it does not seem to leave until hours later. Once your father finished with scolding you and your brother, you apologize thoroughly without trying to explain yourself as it will not change the situation for the better. Instead it will only worsen it, potentially earning you more punishment. When nothing else is left to say, your mother rises from her seat and takes word: „Although it was quite disappointing you were not elected as diamond of the season for obvious reasons, this situation does have it’s positive aspects. While I was engaging in conversations earlier, in the over heard people’s whispers about you. It seems that you have received the title of ´the emerald of the season´ from society. Many were mesmerized by you, at least that is what I heard duke Nanami say.“. Your fathers sour expression lifts to one a little lighter: „Well if that is not a pleasant surprise. So then you may get ready for we have to present the emerald at duke Gojo’s ball.“. With that you are dismissed from this family’s gathering, allowing you to get ready for the masquerade ball ahead. Though this time everything ran quicker and more smoothly.
So you find yourself in the carriage once more, this time though on your way to the Gojo estate. The ride itself is not as suffocating as the one before, letting you relax a little for all the dancing that will happen soon enough. Several minutes later you find yourself switching between conversations and dances with potential suitors. But not one who catches your eyes in sight, much to your disappointment. Otherwise everything is well; no man causes some sort of commotion by misbehavior and no one is making you uncomfortable. So far a good start into festivities. Engaging in social activities like this one does tire you out, you need to admit. So in order to clear your mind a bit and regain some energy, you decide to take a quick stroll around the hallways of the estate. You are aware that this behavior is not accepted in society but no one is there to catch or judge you because they are in fact all present inside the ballroom. So when you see a pair of doors ajar, you pay no mind and enter quickly. Inside your met with shelves full of books. And before you can skim through some, you light a few candles to be able to read. What you do not see though is someone slipping inside behind you, keeping watchful gaze on your every move.
a/n: publishing the first chapter has been a wild ride y'all - from my laptop not allowing me to copy and paste to tumblr being a lil' bitch about the format of the text. i had like seven mental breakdowns until I could finally publish lol 🥹 - but @fushitoru was there to save my ass. thank you looks - I appreciate you looking out for me🫶🏻. now on to the other matter; I added a taglist. so if you want to be added please notify or message me - don't be shy 😌
taglist: @tiramisuandlove @gojouology @not-ur-average-fangirl /taglist is open!
general summary: dearest gentle reader yet another season containing utmost pride, pretense and pursuit descends upon us. after only mere hours of entering society, you make sure to leave a lingering impression behind as you are caught wandering far from the masquerade ball by no other but suguru geto. lord geto, whom is heir to duke geto and prides himself as such, is certainly more than displeased to find you far off the ballroom and has his opinion on the matter at hand already set regardless of your desperate tries to explain the misunderstanding. as your identity is about to be revealed by him, a sudden commotion bares you the opportunity to slip away. following the rather unpleasant beginning of the season, you pray that suguru geto may not find pursuit in uncovering your pretenses.
content/warnings: bridgerton au, regency era au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, misogyny, bullying, jealousy, mentions of alcohol and explicit contents, mental health issues, death, academic themes, breaking society’s norms and expectations, geto is as prideful as ever, reader pretending to be someone else, both being a pain
author’s gossip: bonjour, my name is anna and i’m this season’s host. behold as this is my first time hosting in general - so please bear with me. quick disclaimer: indulgence and interactions are deeply appreciated. please enjoy :)
As you may have heard - i plan on making a bridgerton!geto au with @fushitoru ‘s (aashi’s) permission.
After reading “the season of thorned roses” and catching just the slightest idea of suguru geto being a part of higher society, my mind went almost berserk - probably as much as all of yours :))
Quick side note: tbh this is my first time writing in a long time and my actual first time publishing my work so please bear with me, the start will definitely be a little rusty!
Aside from that i am looking forward to this adventure. I hope I won’t disappoint and if i do - please don’t be shy to hit me up regarding that. Feedback and ideas are always deeply welcomed and appreciated!
Now for the important part; I plan on dropping a tiny sneak peak of what’s to come tomorrow at 3pm CET. The actual first chapter will hopefully be finished towards the weekend!
I’m really excited and thankful for this opportunity.
Listen - i had this thought regarding your brothel scene with bridgerton!gojo…
Hear me out: just bridgerton!gojo meeting up with bridgerton!geto and others in a brothel for business matters. But bridgerton!gojo being the man he is, arrives early to get over with things quickly. To his demise though it seems like not a single one of his acquaintances has arrived yet, so he turns to one of the courtesans in the parlor and questions her. Knowing that his companions are regulars around the establishment, one surely knows if one managed to slip past gojo and into one of the chambers. As the young heir already predicted, one of the lads - his best mate to be exact - managed to be even earlier than gojo himself. In hopes of finding geto, gojo steps throughout the building, secretly praying that his well-mannered friend finished whatever situation he had going on.
Unfortunately gojo finds himself walking in on geto. Utterly shocked from the unexpected, gojo halts dead in his tracks - unabable to move, barely able to breathe and completely taken in by the view in front of him. It’s the so refined geto enjoying a rather small escapade with one of the courtesans…
Yeah, so basically that’s what went through my mind - bridgerton!gojo finding bridgerton!geto in a brothel and kind of enjoying a lesson on how to please a woman?
WOAHHHHH........
stroking my shit to this rn. dont wanna say if this is gonna be canon or not yet but if it's not i would totally write a drabble about this bc satosugu does stuff to me
but PLEASEEE if i saw geto pleasuring a woman i would cream my pants (so would gojo). the way he was going in for business and not women like the loser he is and then seeing that and FINALLY getting action...WHEWWW
summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?
warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, description of injury, concussion, blood, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly
chapter summary ⸺ after the arrival of your dearest brother, you pursue a new angle to the season, one to prove that you, the diamond, will not be scorned. new opportunities with duke nanami arise and with it jealousy and bitterness fester in the ballroom. (6.8k)
prev. the house party | next. soon!
general masterlist | series masterlist
Once again, dear Reader, this humble Author finds herself vindicated. Country house parties, as ever, remain the fertile soil from which the most delicious scandals bloom. And today’s revelation is no exception.
Yes, indeed, you read it here first: the dashing and ever-elusive Lord Satoru Gojo will not be marrying Miss Itadori, this season’s most celebrated diamond. The murmurs have already begun spreading like wildfire, bringing sighs of relief from hopeful ladies and knowing smirks from their watchful chaperones. The eligible Duke-to-be’s sudden return to certified bachelorhood is, no doubt, a development many find most agreeable.
But what, pray, has caused this sudden turn of events? The dissolution of an arrangement so seemingly perfect? Alas, even this Author—a tireless seeker of truths—has found the particulars elusive. Was it a clash of personalities? A misstep at the ball? Or perhaps, a secret grievance unearthed during those long, candlelit evenings at the country estate?
What this Author can confirm is that the ballroom whispers point to Lord Gojo’s own doing, based upon the countenances and actions of the pair at the ball. Did the ever-charming lord tire of his diamond’s sparkle, or has he found a more alluring treasure elsewhere? The possibilities are endless, and so, it seems, is the intrigue surrounding the pair.
One thing remains certain: while Miss Itadori may have stumbled in this engagement, she remains a diamond among gems—brilliant, resilient, and admired. What paths now await her are anyone’s guess, but if this Author knows anything, it is that diamonds shine brightest under pressure.
As for Lord Gojo, the question lingers: will his rakish reputation survive this latest scandal unscathed? Or has he, at last, met a match too dazzling even for him to outshine? Rest assured, dear Reader, this Author will remain ever-vigilant, pen poised and ready to uncover the truth.
⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS
You could have had a bit more tact when informing Sukuna of the events of the past few days, for the reaction you gained made you realize that you may have made a misstep.
“What?!” Sukuna roared, looking at the three of you with fury. Yuji jumped, while you and Choso grimaced. “He did what?!”
“Now, now, brother,” Choso stood up nervously to pat his younger brother on the shoulder. “It is all good and well, for I have arranged for a better match for our dear sister—”
“A duel!” Sukuna bellowed, standing up from his seat on the couch to stomp his way to the door. “I will challenge that Gojo fellow to a duel—” It was only until Yuji ran and tackled him to the ground that he was waylaid to God knows what he was going to do to Lord Gojo. You and Choso could only watch the scene, too perforce to the strength of bulls that your brothers had to be able to interrupt.
A few scratches and awfully purple looking bruises later, Sukuna and Yuji were seated on the couch once again, thanks to Choso’s plead for nonviolence. It was then that Choso started explaining what had occurred in the season so far. “Mother insisted,” he sighed, shaking his head. “She seemed to have struck a mutual…entente with the Duchess of Gojo. It was only a matter of time before Mother forced her ways. Now that it has not redound in her favor, I have even more rationale to have my…way with Sister’s matches. For God’s sake, Sukuna stop glaring at me Mother left me behind on the first ball—”
Sukuna did not stop glaring; in fact, he chose that moment to take a long slurp of his tea while staring fiercely at him while Choso shifted nervously. After a long bout of silence, he finally offered, “I understand Mother can be very pushy, and that you, Choso, are not fierce enough to withstand her.” Choso did not even protest, just offered a deadpan. “But I, however, will not be a feather to a simple blow of the wind that Mother is. It is time our dear sister lived up to her reputation, what she has prepared so hard for.” He looks upon you with a soft gaze—that is, a soft gaze for Sukuna. “No matter how tactless Gojo’s estrangement was, Sister will recover, so long as her morale has not lessened. Sukuna’s head turned sharply to you, “It has not weakened, right Sister? He has not left you heartbroken?”
You could hear your heart as you looked at your brother, dumbfounded. His perceptive gaze disarmed you, but you blurted out a “Of course not” and turned to hastily grab a pastry from the table next to the loveseat you were seated at.. When you looked back at your brother, you jumped as his gaze lingered on you then nonetheless turned to glare at your brother when Yuji opened his mouth, undoubtedly ready to irritatedly remark on his denseness.
No matter, you think to yourself. Whatever you feel about Gojo is of no matter. The visit at the manor was only a delay and a small obstacle for your season. It was time to attend to the matter at hand: finding a husband.
The dewy grass kissed the hem of your nightgown as you wandered to the old swing set on the far edge of the manor grounds—a relic of your childhood, weathered but enduring. The creak of the chains was a sound that had long since embedded itself in your memory, a reminder of simpler days when duty had yet to tighten its grip.
You had not been able to sleep.
The house was still, the hush of midnight settling over its grand halls and sprawling grounds. Yet sleep evaded you, your thoughts as restless as the autumn breeze that stirred the curtains of your chamber. In the quiet, the weight of your obligations pressed heavily upon you, a familiar but unwelcome companion. Deciding that solitude under the stars might grant clarity where the confines of your room could not, you slipped on a shawl and had ventured outside.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” Sukuna’s voice cut through the quiet, low and teasing. He was seated on a swing with his big frame illustrating a comical sight on the small seat. His silhouette was faintly illuminated by the dim glow of his cigarillo, and the faint ember cast fleeting shadows across his sharp features, making his smirk all the more pronounced.
The unexpected sight of him startled you for a moment, though you quickly masked your surprise. You drew your shawl tighter around your shoulders, the chill of the night settling into your skin, and stepped closer. “And here I thought I was the only one who sought refuge in our old playground at such an hour,” you replied lightly, though your voice carried the faint weight of sleeplessness. “What brings you here?”
He took a long, deliberate drag from the cigarillo before discarding it into the damp grass, the embers hissing softly as they extinguished. Straightening, he gestured to the empty swing beside him. “Thinking,” he said simply. “And you? Or do I even need to ask?”
You hesitated for only a moment before lowering yourself onto the swing, your fingers grazing the cold chains as you pushed back slightly. The seat creaked beneath your weight, swaying gently with your movements. The motion stirred a familiar ache of nostalgia—a reminder of days when life felt less complicated. “What else could it be but the endless circus of expectations Mother has so kindly bestowed upon me?”
The bitterness in your tone was impossible to conceal, and Sukuna chuckled darkly. He reached up to push a hand through his disheveled hair, his movements purposeful, almost theatrical. “Ah, yes,” he said mockingly. “The marriage parade. The grand auctioning of one’s life for the sake of the family name. What a fine role you’ve been cast in, dear sister. I don’t envy you.”
You gave a dry laugh, your voice quiet yet tinged with resolve. “Unfortunately, dear brother,” you began, staring into the star-dappled sky, “it is my duty to be wed.”
Sukuna turned to you sharply, his brow furrowing. “It is not your duty, least of all when it robs you of your freedom.”
A protest began to form on his lips, but you held up a hand, your expression soft yet resolute. “Let me finish,” you said, your tone firm but affectionate. Taking a deep breath, you continued, “If I were to grow old into a spinster, there would be no one to take care of me. You and Yuji would inherit our lands and manors, and Choso is the viscount; there would be no space for me except with some of our aunts.”
At the mention of your aunts, both of you shuddered involuntarily. The thought of their overbearing presence, their sharp tongues and endless criticisms, was enough to unite even the most quarrelsome of siblings.
“You cannot take care of me forever,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to the ground. The swing swayed faintly as you spoke, the motion as restless as your thoughts. “One day, you—or any of our brothers—might choose to start a family with someone you love. It would be intrusive of me to remain dependent on you all.”
Sukuna scoffed, his voice rising slightly with indignation. “You know better than anyone that I aim to travel the world. I cannot be chained to a family or a manor—not now, not ever.”
You turned to him, your eyes softening as you regarded his familiar fire, the same defiance that had always set him apart from the others. “Sukuna,” you said gently, your voice tinged with fondness, “you may do as you please, and I would never wish to impede you. But I cannot rely on you indefinitely. You deserve to live freely, to make your own choices without the burden of my future weighing on your conscience.”
Once again, silence enveloped you both, broken only by the faint creak of the swings and the rustle of the wind through the trees. Then, Sukuna eventually broke the quiet with a heavy sigh. “Then we must make sure to do well and find you a husband on your terms.”
You turned to him, brow arched in curiosity. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean,” he said, his lips curling into a mischievous smirk, “that you must stop playing the part Mother has assigned you. Demure and meek may be what she wants, but it’s hardly the truth of you. Besides,” he added, leaning closer as if to share a conspiracy, “do you think the kind of husband you’d want would fall for such a facade?”
His words caught you off guard, and you frowned slightly. “Are you implying I’m to frighten potential suitors away?”
“Not frighten,” Sukuna corrected, his tone amused. “But consider this: if a man is drawn to meekness, might that not suggest he wishes to dominate or control? Would you truly wish to tether yourself to such a person? Or would you rather find someone who can appreciate your independence, who will meet you as an equal?”
His reasoning gave you pause. The image of a husband who might respect your will, who might value the sharpness of your mind and the strength of your character, was tempting—if not entirely what you needed. “And how, pray tell, do you suggest I go about finding such a man?”
Sukuna’s grin widened. “Start by being yourself, unapologetically. Let them see the wit, the fire, the resolve that I know so well. Let them see you, and if they can’t handle it, then they aren’t worth your time.”
You smiled faintly, your heart lighter from his words. After all, this scheming was due on your part; you were only grateful this shift occurred with Sukuna as your humble advisor. “It’s a daring plan, brother. Let us hope it does not lead to my complete social ruin.”
Sukuna laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained. “If it does, then you shall travel the world with me. Who needs societal approval when there’s an entire world to explore?”
For a moment, the weight of your burdens felt a little easier to bear. Under the vast, starlit sky, you allowed yourself to hope that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a future where duty and happiness could coexist.
Despite the peace conversing with Sukuna had granted you, sleep evaded you still, leaving you to roll onto your side, the cool fabric of the pillow offering no solace. Your thoughts had been louder than ever these past weeks, and one name in particular echoed through your mind like a stubborn refrain: Gojo.
His face came unbidden, as vivid as if he were standing at the foot of your bed. That insufferable smirk, the casual way he tilted his head as if always in on some grand secret. He saw through you—that much was undeniable, no matter how much you abhorred it. It wasn’t just the way his piercing gaze seemed to cut through your defenses, stripping away the layers of pleasantries and propriety until you were left exposed. It was his words, too—sharp, direct, and unyielding. Unlike everyone else, he wasn’t content to let you be the demure and dutiful daughter your mother had so painstakingly sculpted.
You turned onto your back, staring up at the shadowed canopy above, the weight of his judgment pressing against your chest. “He wouldn’t want to marry me either,” you thought bitterly, biting your lip to suppress a laugh that was more self-deprecating than amused. Why would he? I am only but a pathological people-pleaser—a woman who smiles and nods and folds herself into whatever shape is required of her. It was a role you had perfected, a mask you wore so often that you sometimes forgot it wasn’t your face. And yet, he saw through it.
That was the part that unsettled you most—not his arrogance, not his sharp tongue, but his ability to cut through your defenses as though they were paper. He saw you, in all your contradictions and uncertainties, and somehow, you suspected that he pitied you for them. Or worse, respected you less for it.
Your stomach twisted at the thought, and you turned onto your other side, burying your face into the pillow. No wonder I’m still unmarried. The thought came unbidden, sharp and cruel. What man would want a wife who couldn’t even decide who she wanted to be?
But that wasn’t fair—not entirely. You had a plan, didn’t you? A bold, liberating plan that would take you far from the shadow of your mother’s expectations. You could already picture her face when you told her—calm, composed, and quietly furious, as though your refusal to obey were a personal affront. The thought brought the faintest flicker of satisfaction, but it was fleeting.
The plan wasn’t perfect, nor was it foolproof. It hinged on one pivotal point: finding a husband who could be an equal partner rather than a master. A man who could grant you the freedom to forge your own path in peace, without the constant weight of disapproval bearing down on you.
Your thoughts wandered to Duke Nanami. Equal in power to Gojo, fair-minded, and kind—a man with no appetite for games or artifice. If you manage to secure a match with him, the ton would not view your…blunder with Gojo with such amusement. Insofar your interactions this season, he had always treated you with quiet respect, never pressing you into conversations you didn’t wish to have or cornering you with expectations. He would be a good man to marry, you thought. A safe choice.
And yet, even as you considered him, Gojo’s face intruded once more, unwelcome and unavoidable. Duke Nanami was everything Gojo wasn’t—measured, steady, predictable. But it was Gojo who set your mind alight, who made you question things you had long accepted as unchangeable truths. He irritated you, challenged you, unnerved you in a way no one else did.
You sighed, turning again, the sheets tangling around your legs like restraints. The very fact that Gojo occupied your thoughts at all was infuriating. He had no place there, no right to linger in the quiet moments when you were supposed to find peace. And yet, here he was, as persistent in your mind as he was in person.
The plan. You needed to focus on the plan. Liberating yourself from your mother’s expectations wasn’t about Gojo or Duke Nanami or anyone else. It was about reclaiming yourself, about becoming a woman who didn’t need to twist herself into shapes for anyone—not your mother, not a potential husband, and certainly not Gojo.
And it would start at your wardrobe.
You give the most polite smile you can muster, but you do not need the mirror in front of you to know that your countenance is strained, the edges of your smile not reaching your eyes. “Lower it even further.”
A beat passes in the room as the modiste, your mother, and Sukuna stare at you in incredulity. The bustline to your dress is low. Of course, it is not yet teetering on the edge of what is socially acceptable, and that is the position you want it to be. Hence, you gesture to Sukuna, prompting him to regain his senses and snap his head towards Momo. “Please attend to my sister’s request.”
You could smell what you mother was about to say, even if she had not yet done so. “My dear,” she began, “I hardly think that’s appro–” Sukuna’s glares reorients itself now to focus on your mother, and she purses her lips with what appears to be arduous effort, knowing a quarrel with Sukuna would escalate quite quickly, both immediate and unwise.
Madame Momo, for the better, offers no protest as she lowers the deep, wine red fabric she was upholding against your body. If you were not wearing your regular clothes, you would know that quite a bit of the swell of your breasts would be framed by the dress. However, it wasn’t enough. “A bit lower.”
The modiste lets out a small sigh, her needle poised mid-air as she hesitates. “My lady, to lower it further would risk—” she pauses delicately, “—compromising the structural integrity of the gown.”
“I appreciate your insight, Madame, and know that you are quite skilled at your craft,” you flash her a semi-apologetic smile. After all, she is the one that has to attend to your…rebranding crisis and revamp a majority of your wardrobe. “However, I am afraid that I’d like to do something new this season. Something eye-catching.”
A faint chuckle escapes her lips, no doubt spurred on by the flattery. With a practiced hand, she adjusts the fabric once more, lowering it to the precise balance of scandalous and sophisticated. She steps back, her critical eye assessing her own handiwork. “Well, it will definitely be eye-catching.”
“Precisely.” You nod in approval, smoothing the line of the fabric with your fingers. “I believe Lady Whistledown,” you add, your voice tinged with knowing confidence, “will ensure that the modiste responsible for the diamond’s striking attire becomes the talk of the season.”
Momo’s lips twitch into a smile, and she dips her head in acknowledgment, already returning to her work with renewed purpose. Sukuna, standing to the side, folds his arms and smirks at the scene, clearly entertained by your audacity.
Your mother, meanwhile, remains silent, though her pursed lips betray her disapproval. Let her simmer, you think, satisfaction curling in your chest. This season is yours to command, and you will not be overlooked.
I cannot do this. I cannot I cannot I cannot I cann—
“Sister!” Sukuna called out. You regained your senses, snapping your head at once to look at him, who was holding out his hand. Swallowing, you grabbed it so he could assist you out of the carriage. What had you in a tizzy was the sheer amount of people. Yet again, you were attending your first party after the events in the countryside but this time without your mother and Yuuji. Not only had the people you were accompanied with changed, but also different attire. A red silk dress fell over your curves gracefully, the draping across your chest a bit lower than usual. It is the dress of your dreams—one that you would have worn if not for your mother and her beliefs regarding your image. Now, your clothing was still socially acceptable but nevertheless daring—exactly the image you wanted to present.
However, it was safe to say that after the events of the house party, venturing out in another—with so much of your chest exposed—had you nervous. Oh God, perhaps this wasn’t the brightest of my ideas— (a/n she’s just a girl :( )
“Presenting Miss Itadori, Mister Itadori, and the Right Honorable The Viscount Itadori!” As you were announced to the room, with your brothers linking arms on either side of you, you smiled—trying not to let the nerves show. At the sound of your name, the buzz of conversation faltered, dozens of heads turning toward you. You felt the weight of their gazes—sharp, judgmental, curious. You were certain half of them were eager to witness the fallout of Whistledown’s latest scandal, while the other half seemed transfixed by the boldness of your attire.
Your eyes flitted over the sea of faces as you moved through the room. There were gasps, poorly veiled whispers, and even a few widened eyes aimed at Sukuna, but what truly set your nerves alight was the attention fixed squarely on you. You resisted the urge to fidget, to adjust the neckline of your gown, to shrink under their scrutiny.
Then, amid the crowd, your gaze locked onto a familiar figure with a piercing stare—Suguru Geto.
He was lounging by the far wall, a glass of wine in hand, his dark eyes gleaming with mirth. An amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he shook his head, clearly entertained. Your heart stuttered, the heat rushing to your cheeks making your nerves spike further. Am I being mocked?
Before the thought could consume you, he raised his glass in a mock salute, a gesture of acknowledgment—perhaps even respect. He then nudged the man standing next to him, none other than Duke Nanami.
Your pulse quickened at the sight of the Duke, his composed demeanor a stark contrast to Geto’s casual amusement. The weight of Nanami’s steady, discerning gaze was one you weren’t prepared to meet—not tonight. In the periphery, you caught Geto slipping toward the courtyard, his laughter soft but audible as he disappeared into the night.
You tore your gaze away just in time, focusing straight ahead as you approached the Queen. Your shoulders stiffened, the intricate beading of your gown catching in the light. The murmurs grew fainter, the towering figure of Her Majesty now looming just ahead. With each step, your pulse thundered louder in your ears, but you kept your chin high, determined not to falter.
When you and your brothers reached the foot of the throne, you slipped your arms free from theirs and sank into the deepest curtsy you could manage. "Your Majesty," you murmured, lowering your head to avoid the weight of her gaze. The richness of the room—gold-trimmed drapes, towering portraits, and the hum of whispered conversations—did little to steady your nerves.
"Rise," the Queen commanded, her tone clipped and dismissive, the single word laced with impatience. You obeyed, your movements deliberate and slow, feeling the weight of every eye in the chamber on your shoulders. When you met her gaze, she was already appraising you, her sharp eyes scanning you from head to toe. Her scrutiny was clinical, and when she sighed audibly, it was clear her judgment was far from favorable.
“I have not been…pleased by the recent affairs, diamond,” the Queen began, her voice cold and detached, like a blade gliding through silk. A sniff punctuated her words, and the lump in your throat grew harder to swallow. “I fear this is a failure to the crown.”
The room seemed to tilt, your heartbeat quickening in your chest. The Queen’s disappointment carried a weight that could crush reputations, and yours was teetering precariously on the edge of her approval.
“However,” her tone shifted ever so slightly, and you found yourself snapping to attention, clinging to that single word like a lifeline. “Your recent change in…style is fitting.”
You blinked, unsure if you had heard her correctly. The Queen’s gaze lingered on the daring neckline of your gown, the rich red fabric catching the light in just the right way to emphasize its boldness. “You are not a simple and bland gem, Miss Itadori.” Her words were deliberate, measured, and the faintest hint of approval gleamed in her sharp eyes. “You are a diamond, and you must start to shine like it.”
For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. The Queen’s words were praise, yes, but they also carried an implicit warning: a diamond that failed to sparkle was of no use to anyone, least of all the crown.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” you said, your voice steady but quiet, and you curtsied again, the fabric of your gown whispering against the marble floor. The Queen’s gaze swept over you once more before she turned her attention elsewhere, her dismissal unspoken but clear. As you rose again, Choso placed a reassuring hand on your elbow, a subtle anchor in the sea of your swirling thoughts.
A light, “You all are dismissed.”
The cool night air wrapped around Suguru Geto as he strolled into the courtyard, his boots crunching softly against the gravel path. The faint strains of the ballroom's orchestra followed him, muffled now by the grand walls of the manor. A slow, self-satisfied smile crept across his lips as he glanced up at the stars. The night felt ripe with possibility, though it was the scene he had just left that truly amused him.
He exhaled, letting the crisp air settle over him, before taking another measured step toward the fountain at the courtyard’s center. His fingers grazed the cool stone edge, the chill a welcome change from the warmth of the crowded ballroom. He savored the silence, only for it to be broken by the familiar sound of approaching footsteps.
“Geto,” a voice called out, casual but clipped.
Suguru turned slowly, almost lazily, as though he hadn’t already recognized the speaker. Gojo Satoru emerged from the shadows of the colonnade, his silver hair glowing faintly in the moonlight. He moved with his usual languid ease, though his sharp blue gaze belied his carefree demeanor.
“Well, well,” Suguru greeted, his tone light but edged with something sharp. “You’re out here. Don’t tell me you’ve finally tired of the fawning crowds?”
Gojo came to a stop a few paces away, crossing his arms as he leaned against one of the marble columns. “Needed some air. The room’s packed with too many people pretending to like each other.” His gaze flicked to Suguru, scrutinizing. “And you? Slipping out to avoid trouble, or cause it?”
Suguru chuckled, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a slow sip. “Oh, you wound me, Satoru. Can’t a man enjoy a moment of peace without being accused of scheming?”
“You?” Gojo raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Not a chance. So, what’s your angle this time?”
Suguru let the question hang, savoring the quiet tension between them. He set his glass down on the fountain’s edge, turning to fully face Gojo. His smirk widened as he finally spoke. “No angle. Just admiring the company tonight. Speaking of which…” He paused for dramatic effect, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve. “Miss Itadori made quite the entrance.”
Gojo’s expression didn’t change immediately, but Suguru saw the faint flicker of something—irritation, maybe, or something more carefully hidden. Gojo’s mouth twitched into a scoff, though the sound was faint, almost perfunctory.
“What about her?” Gojo asked, his tone deliberately disinterested, but Suguru noted how his fingers flexed briefly before he shoved his hands into his pockets.
Suguru hummed thoughtfully, his gaze drifting toward the sky as if considering his next words carefully. “She looked… radiant tonight. Stunning, really. I can’t imagine half the room wasn’t staring. Though, I must say, some seemed more surprised than others.” His eyes darted back to Gojo, watching for a reaction.
Gojo rolled his eyes, though there was a tightness in his jaw that Suguru didn’t miss. “She’s just another debutante. Why would I care what she’s wearing?”
“Why indeed?” Suguru replied, his voice deceptively mild. He stepped closer, leaning against the fountain with an easy grace. “But it does make one wonder—what kind of man would care? Surely someone with a sharp eye for detail. Someone with… let’s say, a bustful interest.”
Gojo stiffened slightly, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” Suguru tilted his head, studying Gojo with an intensity that bordered on playful. “Because I could swear you seemed a little distracted back there. And not by the Queen, mind you. Why did you leave as soon as the Itadoris were announced?”
“Drop it, Geto.” Gojo’s voice was sharper now, but there was an edge of unease beneath the command.
Suguru’s smirk deepened as he tried to fight the urge to snicker at his friend, but he let the moment linger, letting Gojo stew in his discomfort. He picked up his wine glass again, swirling the liquid idly before taking another slow sip. Finally, he straightened, his tone turning lighter, though no less pointed.
“Well, whatever it is—or isn’t—you’d better sort it out soon.” He started to walk past Gojo, his footsteps deliberately slow. Just as he passed, he paused, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Because if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in danger of losing your famously cool head.”
Gojo didn’t respond immediately, but Suguru didn’t need him to. The slight narrowing of his eyes, the subtle clench of his jaw—those were all the confirmation he needed for his plan.
Suguru chuckled softly, a sound more amused than mocking, and continued on his way, his voice drifting back over his shoulder. “Enjoy the rest of the night, Satoru. Something tells me it’s going to be… illuminating.”
Left alone, Gojo exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he glared at the retreating figure. “Bastard,” he muttered under his breath, though his voice lacked fervor. Still, Suguru’s words lingered, circling his mind like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. He turned his gaze back toward the ballroom, his thoughts uncomfortably crowded with images of a certain young lady and the maddening smirk of a man who always seemed to know too much.
It appears that you and Duke Nanami have much in common, for you are able to hold a most pleasant conversation with him.
The din of the ballroom fades to a dull murmur as you stand near the refreshment table, your gaze politely fixed on the Duke. His presence is commanding yet unassuming—a rare quality that draws you in. Dressed in a deep navy coat that matches the intensity of his solemn eyes, he inclines his head slightly as he speaks, the weight of his words tempered by the gentleness in his tone.
The arrangement is perfect. You have successfully caught your target, much to the chagrin of ladies. After all, it was not all days that Duke Nanami took interest in a lady. You would have to credit Choso; he had researched that HIs Grace did not like overbearing mamas accompanying their girls—a most rational opinion. Posing fiery opinions without the presence of anyone except yourself, it seemed that you had hit the mark.
“I find, Miss Itadori,” he says, his voice smooth yet deliberate, “that many in our circles underestimate the joy of simple pursuits. They mistake extravagance for fulfillment.” He takes a measured sip from his glass, his gloved fingers resting lightly on its stem.
You nod, a genuine smile forming on your lips. “I could not agree more, Your Grace. There is a certain comfort in the unadorned pleasures of life. A good book, a quiet morning—these seem to me the most worthwhile indulgences.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up in what might pass as a rare smile. “Indeed. Though I daresay, quiet mornings are hard to come by when the season is in full swing.”
You let out a soft laugh, the sound almost swallowed by the music that swells across the room. “Quite so. I suppose we are all too busy chasing the next waltz or whispering about the latest Whistledown missive.”
At the mention of Whistledown, the Duke raises a brow, his expression a mixture of amusement and intrigue. “Ah, yes. Our ever-watchful chronicler. One wonders if she, too, finds time for quiet mornings.”
“I imagine she must,” you reply. “After all, how else would she craft such keen observations? A mind as sharp as hers surely requires moments of reflection.”
“Reflection, yes,” he murmurs, his gaze drifting briefly to the chandelier above, as if lost in thought. Then, returning his attention to you, he asks, “And what of you, Miss Itadori? Amidst the bustle, do you find moments to reflect?”
The question catches you off guard—not because it is intrusive, but because it is sincere. Few have ever asked you such things. You hesitate, then answer truthfully. “I try, Your Grace. Though I must admit, the season has left little room for it. It seems my every step is watched, my every word weighed. I sometimes wonder if I have forgotten how to simply be.”
His expression softens, and for a moment, you feel as though he truly sees you—not as the diamond of the season, not as the subject of idle gossip, but as a person. “That is a heavy burden to bear,” he says quietly. “Perhaps it is time you allowed yourself a reprieve. Even diamonds require care, lest they lose their brilliance.”
The words settle over you like a balm, and you find yourself holding his gaze longer than propriety might dictate. There is no judgment in his eyes, only understanding. It is both comforting and disarming. Before you can respond, a burst of laughter from a nearby group breaks the spell. You glance away, suddenly aware of your surroundings once more. “You are kind to say so, Your Grace,” you murmur, your voice steadier than you feel.
“I merely speak the truth, Miss Itadori,” he replies, bowing his head slightly.
A pause lingers between you, not uncomfortable but weighty with unspoken thoughts. Finally, he clears his throat, his tone lighter as he says, “Would you care to take a turn about the room? I find the air here grows rather stifling.”
You smile, grateful for the excuse to move. “I would like that very much.”
As he offers his arm, you place your hand lightly upon it, allowing him to guide you into the throng. The music swells once more, and though the room is as noisy and crowded as ever, the world feels a little quieter with Duke Nanami by your side. You can see it—early mornings with Nanami, enjoying gentle banter as he returned your thoughts without any ire, without snark or judgment. Quiet respect and gentle affection filling your days. A life free of chaos, where your worries dissipate into the steady calm of his demeanor. Perhaps this could be happiness. A steady, uncomplicated happiness.
But then you see him.
You abhor your traitorous heart for lurching ever so slightly at the sight of Gojo. He is standing near the edge of the ballroom, the golden light catching on his shock of silver hair as though it had been crafted to draw attention. His smile—always so bright, so effortless—makes the lady beside him laugh. She looks at him with a sultry, yet detached and amused expression, her fan flicking lazily as if to dismiss her own growing interest.
Your chest tightens. You know this scene well. It is one you have observed too many times, and yet you have never been able to steel yourself against the sting it brings. The way he leans ever so slightly toward the lady, as though she were the only person in the room. The way his laughter echoes, a sound full of mirth and mischief, as if he had no weight upon his shoulders.
You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. You tell yourself he doesn’t matter.
But then, as though he feels the weight of your gaze, Gojo turns his head. Your pulse quickens as his eyes widen, the usual lazy charm momentarily replaced by something sharper, something you can’t quite place.
First, his gaze lands on your face, his eyes sweeping over it with a quickness that feels like a jolt to your chest. Then, they drop lower, and you feel the heat of his scrutiny settle uncomfortably on your chest. A flicker of something crosses his expression—shock, perhaps, or something else entirely—but before you can decipher it, his gaze moves again, lower still, to where your hand rests upon the Duke’s arm.
It is subtle, the way his jaw tightens. The way his smile falters, only to return a moment later, forced and brittle. He shifts his weight, turning back toward the lady at his side, but not before you catch the way his fingers twitch at his side.
You force yourself to look away, to focus instead on Duke Nanami’s steady presence beside you. He has not noticed the exchange—or if he has, he is far too polite to show it.
And yet, the moment lingers. Gojo’s image burns in your mind like the fading glow of a candle, stubbornly refusing to extinguish. You loathe the way your heart betrays you, its treacherous rhythm quickened not by the Duke’s calm assurance, but by the mere sight of a man who has always been more trouble than he’s worth.
Nanami’s voice cuts through your tumultuous thoughts, soft and grounding. “You seem distracted, Miss Itadori,” he remarks, his gaze kind but curious.
You manage a small smile, tightening your grip on his arm as though it might anchor you. “Not at all, Your Grace. Perhaps just…overwhelmed by the crowd.”
He nods, accepting your answer without pressing further. “Understandable. These gatherings can be rather tiresome.”
“Yes,” you murmur, casting one last glance in Gojo’s direction before forcing your focus back to the Duke. “Tiresome indeed.”
But even as you walk beside Nanami, his presence a welcome reprieve from the chaos of the evening, you cannot help but feel the weight of Gojo’s lingering gaze, the memory of his startled expression etched into your thoughts like a brand. You cannot help but observe the situation. Tonight, you would be ending the night on Duke Nanami’s arm, and Gojo with another woman.
Is this not what you both wanted?
Today, it seems that the usual trio at White’s is only a duo. The blonde and raven head swirl their alcohol in their shimmering glasses while sharing a comfortable silence. That is, until one interrupts.
“How do we know we’re not simply toying with her?” The blonde man’s voice is steady but tinged with unease, his lips pressed into a thin line as he glances toward his companion. “It would not be honorable of me to pursue Miss Itadori under the pretense of riling Gojo, as you seem intent on doing—”
“Kento!” The raven-haired man—Lord Geto—throws his head back in laughter, the sound rich and unapologetically amused. He leans forward slightly, propping his elbow on the armrest, as his grin widens. “So confident in your lady-pleasing and romancing abilities, aren’t you?” Nanami’s frown deepens, but Geto merely waves him off, his laughter subsiding to a mischievous chuckle. “No, no—don’t worry. You misunderstand me. This isn’t about Miss Itadori falling for you, though,” he smirks, “I’m sure you’d manage well enough.” His tone is teasing, but his words lack any true malice.
“Then what is it about?” Nanami’s voice carries a note of exasperation, though he remains as composed as ever, swirling his drink in quiet contemplation.
Geto straightens, a glint of something sharper flashing in his dark eyes. “It’s about them. They’re idiots, Kento—idiots in love, the both of them. And it is our duty, as Satoru’s friends,” he pauses, meeting Nanami’s gaze with deliberate emphasis, “to help him realize what he truly desires.”
Nanami snorts, setting his glass down with a muted clink. “You just want to toy with them, to orchestrate the ton and its leading source of gossip.”
The corner of Geto’s mouth quirks upward in a sly smile, one that practically oozes self-satisfaction. “That, my dear friend,” he says, his voice low and conspiratorial, “I cannot deny.”
They lapse into silence once more, the kind that only years of friendship can create, as the firelight flickers and dances on the walls around them. Nanami tips his glass back, savoring the warmth of the whiskey as he contemplates Geto’s words—and the inevitable chaos that would follow in their wake.
prev. the house party | next. soon!
general masterlist | series masterlist
a/n HEYYY POOKIES IT'S HERE IT'S HERE WHAT DID WE THINK. also here is the bridgerton!gojo playlist if anyone is interested!!! i apologize it is 99% taylor swift but i will be adding more diverse songs
despite the miss itadori hate in recent times our girl is BOUNCING BACKK #mogged i cant wait for her to become even more of a diva in the next few chapterssss!!!! (not rn shes going through her sad girl era or wtvr)
suguru (left) and nanami (right) at this whole drama
also i hope none of you WHORESSSS simped for geto when we made eye contact with him (im looking at zaynesbathrobe anon and all those anons that are obsessed with bridgerton!geto). stay FOCUSED girls gays and theys
thank you for readinggggg. a hot new bombshell will be entering the villa in the next few chapters can we guess who he is??? hint he has huge tits and smelly balls
I hope this email finds you well. Since you had the time to write this post out with all of its copious amount of non related tags in its glory to ensure people who definitely wanted to know your opinion found it, I would assume you also have time to write out a full, 2,000 word essay for my SFW fics! I look forward to think pieces alike the ones you have been giving in fights with other authors.
I hope these works—the ones that never do as well as the ones that have smut in them—are to your liking. I expect a review of these by EOD Friday. If you don’t like my works, I expect to see more promotion of SFW works on your blog rather than clogging up the fluff tags with opinions not deemed necessary.
gojo fluff drabble
gojo series
There are also many sfw works out there with less likes than your post. I hope to see more effort on your part to change the status quo and give more love to sfw authors.
the adventures of spider-man! a spiderman!gojo collection
pairing ⸺ spiderman!gojo x f!reader
summary ⸺ you have always existed in gojo satoru’s shadow. he is a physics prodigy, a person that everyone endlessly admires for his intelligence and charisma, and you hate him for taking the spotlight that you deserve to share with him. but it all changes one day at 5:07AM at your starbucks job when gojo barges in, ordering ridiculously sweet drinks and posing existential questions. is there more to gojo that meets the eye, and is it linked to the vigilante swinging around New York City?
warnings ⸺ college au, academic rivals to lovers, smut, tooth rotting fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, attempt at SA on reader, injury and mentions of blood, mentions of gun, inappropriate use of webs LOL, fingering, oral, p in v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied
playlist ⸺ quantum rizzics
a/n AHHH spiderman!gojo m list is here!!! THANK YOU for 10k+ notes on the first oneshot as well as 5k followers :') requests are open for drabbles and suggestions for the next oneshot are also welcome!! comment down below if you'd like to be tagged :)
summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?
warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, description of injury, concussion, blood, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly
chapter summary ⸺ you are bedridden, recovering from your wound, when gojo delivers season-changing news. the house party that follows buzzes with tension, and an unexpected arrival that sends ripples through the ton (7.4k)
a/n thank you as always to the pooks @/sinn-clair for beta reading this <333 i'll see you after the chapter is over!
prev. the fall | next. soon!
general masterlist | series masterlist
Gentle Reader,
One query occupies this Author's mind, be it ladies or mamas alike—what exactly are Miss Itadori and Lord Gojo up to in the countryside? Perhaps a trifling dalliance of hearts, or will the ton bear witness to a scandal uncovered when they arrive for the house party? After having arrived a week early—and positioned as the diamond of the season—one must guess that if all goes well and Miss Itadori plays her cards right, she will be showing off her new surely lavish diamond engagement ring. Yet, she must take great care, for to err in this delicate matter would be to jeopardize a most significant match with Lord Gojo. Only time shall tell the outcome of this intrigue.
⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS
Upon waking, the physician informed you that you had been unconscious for some days. Though no immediate danger threatened you, it had been long enough to send both families into a state of great disquiet. It seemed that even before you’d regained full awareness, a servant—who had gasped upon hearing your feeble request for water—had swiftly spread the news, for not a moment later Yuji burst into the room.
“SISTER!” he exclaims, hurtling his way towards you with heavy steps. You flinch in your position on the bed at the sound of his loud voice. “You are awake! Mama seemed like she would faint, Choso had almost popped a bloody vein, he looked like he was about to challenge Lord Gojo to a duel—”
“Yuji! My dear,” you had to shout, interrupting the boy’s ramblings, giving him an uneasy smile. “Lower your volume, please. I might faint back into unconsciousness due to the strain, and this time you will be the one dueling Choso.”
The pout Yuji adopts is akin to a chastened hound as he grabs a chair to sit next to you. You take this moment to surveil your surroundings, now with a clear headedness granted to you that hadn’t been granted before. There were fresh flowers adorning a vase on the table on your bedside, and you seemed to be wearing a shift, cleaned and changed out of your dirty and mud-ridden dress. There was a gauze surrounding your head, and you could feel some similar cloth on your ankle.
You turned to your brother. “Now then, what were you saying?”
He perks up. “Well, you’ve been in quite a state, dear sister! It’s not every day you’re injured before breaking fast. Choso practically spat his tea when he heard! And, of course, Duchess Gojo has been endlessly apologetic. Between Mama, Choso, and me, we’ve all been in quite a state. I daresay you’re hardly known for clumsiness—although you do have your moments on horseback.” At the memories seemingly pooling themselves in his mind, Yuji sniggers while you shoot him a look to not be testy. “And Gojo has been nothing short of attentive. No doubt the man’s come in to change your flowers more than the doctor’s visited you. He’s so caring, he even cares for a worm like you!”
You ignore Yuji’s jab, instead forcing yourself not to be gripped by the fact that Gojo had been so…attentive to you. Of course, it was as an indirect result of his sheer vexing nature that you were bedridden in such a manner, so it should not set your heart aflutter like a foolish girl. But your traitorous heart seems to hate listening to reason.
You begin to nod slowly. “And how many days have I been out? When is the house party?” Taking a gander at the windows in the room you were situated in, you could see the moon and star’s light filtering the curtains. You weren’t sure if it was the evening or night or completely early in the morning.
He looks up to the ceiling, as if calculating something, brows furrowed. “Today.”
Groaning, you put your head in your hands, playing with your hair as it falls through the gaps of your fingers. “Mother is going to kill me.”
“Oh, indeed,” Yuji replied with a hum, stretching his arms in a cat-like yawn. “Now, I must get back to my rest. The servants were gossiping near my door, so I thought I’d see for myself that you weren’t dead.” He kissed you on the cheek before heading to the door. “Sleep, sister, for I expect Mama will tire you endlessly come morning.”
Later, a gentle nudge at your arm and a few soft “Miss! Wake up!”’s roused you from sleep. You opened your eyes to find a maid hunched over you, relief clear in her expression as you met her gaze with a drowsy squint. “Miss, Lord Gojo requests your presence. May I allow him in?”
With a nod, you fought off your annoyance at having been disturbed. The maid, visibly flustered, hurried to admit Gojo, who soon approached with quiet footsteps. As you propped yourself up, arms crossed, you gave him a mildly reproachful look. “Gojo, you’ve roused me from my slumber. I trust this is a matter of utmost importance—-” you began, then trailed off as you took in his expression.
He was taut, as though his very sinews were wound tight. Standing rigidly, his jaw clenched, his gaze flitted everywhere but to you. Troubled, you tried, “Gojo?”
At the sound of his name, he looked sharply at you and seemed to gather himself. “Ah… forgive me.” He took a seat and smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes, artificial. “How is your recovery?”
You eye him suspiciously. His leg is moving up and down anxiously, the action minute in a way that makes you think he’s not aware of doing it. The tight and strained smile on his face seems uncanny, his concern seeming out of place. “Well, as much as it can be for me bleeding out pints and pints of blood from my head,” at that, you note that he subtly flinches, “but all is well!” You spread out your arms and give him a dazzling smile, and his eyes follow. “I’m sure my mama and my maid are itching to rush in here to prepare me for the house party.” Giving him a playful glare, you continue, “And just for the pain you caused me, you ought to have two dances and a few pastries prepared tonight.”
At that, he looks at you for a quick glance before quickly turning away, seemingly collecting himself. In what you could observe in his previous expression, you were surprised to see yearning present in his blue eyes, filled with feelings that perplexed you. Gojo was acting very odd.
Then, he drew in a measured breath, his jaw clenched as if bracing himself for what he was about to say. He finally looked at you, a shadowed intensity in his gaze that made your heart beat faster—not in the way it used to when his eyes sparked with wit, but with a sense of foreboding.
"Miss Itadori," he began, his voice lower, lacking the familiar, teasing cadence. "I must apologize for the trouble I have brought upon you. I was… heedless, perhaps even reckless, and it seems I have caused you nothing but suffering."
You frowned, confusion beginning to bubble beneath the surface as he paused, clearly struggling to continue. He seemed almost pitiable, looking down at his hands, which were tightly woven together, his knuckles pale. But pity was not a feeling you had patience for. Not now. Not with Gojo of all people.
"Trouble?" you repeated, folding your arms. "I do believe that's an understatement, my lord. A mere misstep, surely?"
His eyes flicked back to yours, the corner of his mouth tugging in a grim semblance of a smile. "Understatement or not, it remains the truth," he replied, his voice nearly a murmur. "I cannot in good conscience continue this… attachment we have formed. The position of courtship our mamas have placed us in. For I fear it is you who stands to lose most dearly if I remain by your side."
You stiffened, his words crashing over you like a cold wave. "Attachment?" you said, bitterness coloring the word. "Do not dress it up with such kind words, Lord Gojo. An attachment is something formed with care, with respect—qualities you seem to find inconvenient."
He winced but did not break eye contact. "I will not argue with you," he said softly, voice steady in its regret. "Perhaps I am no master of attachments, nor have I ever claimed to be. But know that I had never wished to see you harmed—"
"Harmed?" you interrupted, your voice growing louder as anger swelled within you. "Is this some twisted apology, then? A show of remorse for the inconvenience of your whims?"
Gojo opened his mouth to respond, but you did not allow him the chance.
"How very noble of you, Lord Gojo," you continued, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "After all this time, to simply say, 'Forgive me; I shall now remove myself from your life,' as if that makes up for the chaos you’ve brought upon me? As if I am but a pawn to be moved at your discretion?"
His face softened slightly, as if he were seeing something in you he hadn't fully expected—a quiet resolve beneath your anger, a dignity that refused to be bruised. "No, Miss Itadori," he said quietly. "I do not wish to see you as a pawn. After all, from what I understand is that you do not know what you desire—and I would only be exploiting that. I only… I only wish to relieve you of the burdens I seem to bring."
You laughed, the sound bitter and laced with fury. "Know what I want? As if you do, dropping pretenses with commoners and putting on your mask for the ton. And relieve me? I don’t think you understand what it is you’ve done, Gojo."
This conversation was dangerous. The emotions you hid under the air of nonchalance were steadily bubbling up, and it seemed that now, your sentiments were threatening to boil over at the sheer audacity of Gojo breaking off this arrangement, of what the ton would think today if he were to be avoiding you like the plague.
He flinched at the sound of his name on your lips, spoken with such venom. A muscle in his jaw ticked, but he made no move to respond, simply watched as you gathered your thoughts, your gaze piercing.
"All this time," you said, each word sharper than the last, "I was led to believe there was something more to your attentions. And now, you simply wash your hands of it? You think yourself a gentleman for doing so?"
"Miss Itadori," he said, his voice strained. "I am—"
"You are a coward," you spat, and his eyes widened, the faintest hint of pain flashing in their depths. "Yes, that’s right. A coward, for trying to protect yourself under the guise of protecting me. All this talk of 'relieving me'—do not act as if your decision was made out of kindness." (a/n: OH NO SHE DIDNTTTTT)
"Do you not understand?" he interjected, a sudden fierceness in his voice, his composure beginning to slip. "This is not some petty whim, nor a game. My intentions… they were never meant to bring you harm, but they did. And I cannot bear to see it continue."
"Bear to see it continue?" you repeated incredulously. "Do you think I am some doll, some trifle to discard at your convenience?"
"That was never my intent!" he exclaimed, voice rising in frustration. "If you would but see reason—"
"Reason? From you?" you laughed bitterly, barely able to contain the fury welling up inside you. "Your idea of reason is nothing more than self-preservation, Lord Gojo. How convenient it must be to absolve yourself of guilt by deciding I am better off without you."
He fell silent, the anger in his face ebbing, replaced by a kind of desperation. "You do not understand," he said, quieter, almost pleading. "If I were to stay… if I were to court you in earnest, it would not be the life you think it to be."
"Then let that be my choice to make," you shot back, crossing your arms. "But no—this is not about my well-being, not truly. It is about you, Gojo. It has always been about you."
A tense silence stretched between you, filled only by the soft, uneven breaths that escaped both of you. For a moment, neither dared to speak, both caught in the tangled emotions that hung thick in the air.
Finally, Gojo looked down, his eyes shuttered, his voice weary. "Then hate me, if you must. But I am done with this charade."
"Hate you?" you repeated, the word tasting strange on your tongue. "No, Lord Gojo. Hatred would imply I care enough to feel anything toward you."
Your entire body seethed with fury, every muscle trembling with the strain of keeping yourself upright, sitting on your bed. You couldn't storm out—not with your wounded leg refusing to bear even a fraction of the anger swelling within you. Instead, you pushed yourself up on shaking arms, glaring at him with such venom that he instinctively stepped back.
"Get out," you spat, the words laced with ice, your voice rising as if to fill the entire room. "Out! Now, Gojo—leave me this instant!"
He froze, his shoulders tense as he looked at you with something unreadable, but he made no move toward the door.
"I said leave!" you shrieked—your voice shrill—the strain of it making you nearly lose balance, but you didn't care. Hot tears stung your eyes, and you bit them back, forcing yourself to breathe through the betrayal clawing at your chest. "Take your false apologies, your noble pretensions, and get out of my sight. Go, and never, ever darken my door again."
His mouth opened, as if he might say something—perhaps even something that might soothe the jagged edges of your heart. But your furious gaze dared him to try.
With a pained expression, he finally gave a nod, stepping back toward the door. He lingered for a moment, one last helpless look crossing his face before he turned away, leaving without another word.
The door clicked shut, and you were left alone, shaking with fury, your breath ragged. Your eyes were still on that door, your heart racing, as though expecting him to come back, to take it all back, to be the man you'd witnessed yesterday. But deep down, you knew he would not return.
The first glimmers of morning filtered through the heavy drapes as you stirred awake, still dazed from the events that had left you bedridden. The memories of Gojo’s departure settled heavily on your chest, like a stone dropped in a lake, rippling outward and disturbing any possibility of calm. Your mind drifted over the previous night’s argument, replaying words, and then, with a cringe, the heated moments where you felt every last ounce of self-restraint slip from your grasp.
A small part of you reasoned that you may have been rash—that your anger and hurt had overtaken good sense. After all, it was you who deemed your and Gojo’s match impossible. So why were you so hurt?
Before you could linger on these thoughts, there was a soft knock at your door.
"Come in," you murmured, propping yourself up gingerly.
What followed soft footsteps was Choso, his gaze warm and steady as he entered, carrying the ease of familiarity that only he could. As he approached, he pulled a chair beside your bed and gave a faint smile.
Choso stepped in quietly, his face softened by a rare smile as he approached. “Awake at last,” he said gently, taking a seat beside you with the care one might afford a delicate flower. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep through the entire house party."
He reached out, his hand resting on the crown of your head, fingers slipping through your hair in a soothing rhythm. The fondness in his touch eased the last of the stiffness in your frame, a balm against the soreness both physical and emotional.
“You worry too much,” you muttered, allowing yourself to lean into the comfort he offered, your voice softening as his hand continued to gently scratch at your scalp.
“You look better today,” he said softly, continuing his familiar, soothing rhythm with his fingers. “Though, I’ll admit, you gave us all quite a scare.”
You managed a small smile, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease slightly under his touch. “I suppose I was overdue for a bit of excitement,” you murmured, though the attempt at levity felt thin, even to your own ears.
Choso’s hand stilled momentarily, and his gaze grew searching as he looked at you. “What truly happened yesterday?” he asked, his voice low with concern. “There’s more here than an unfortunate fall, isn’t there?”
You stiffened slightly, glancing away from him. “It was nothing,” you replied, willing your tone to sound convincing. “Just… an ill-timed accident. Nothing to concern yourself with.”
But Choso was not so easily deterred. He watched you closely, his brow furrowing with worry. “You’ve always been a poor liar, sister,” he murmured. “If something happened, you know you can tell me. I only want to understand.”
The quiet earnestness in his tone gnawed at you, and for a moment, you considered confiding in him. But the idea of revisiting last night’s turmoil felt too raw, too immediate. “I’m fine, truly,” you insisted, meeting his gaze with as much steadiness as you could muster. “It was… nothing that can’t be mended with rest.”
Choso’s gaze lingered on you, his fingers resuming their gentle tracing along your scalp as if that alone could soothe whatever burden you were carrying. “Well,” he finally said, his tone filled with fond exasperation, “I won’t press you. But I trust you’ll speak of it when you feel you are ready.”
You gave a slight nod, grateful for his restraint. The quiet between you was comforting, grounding, as he continued his rhythmic motions, easing your thoughts in a way that words could not.
After a long moment, he broke the silence again, his tone lighter this time. “On a more cheerful note,” he began, a faint smile playing on his lips, “you’ll have another visitor tomorrow.”
“Oh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, though a part of you already guessed who he meant.
“Yes,” he confirmed, a knowing glint in his eye. “Sukuna received word of your injury and set off at once. He’ll be here by morning.”
You let out a small breath, a mixture of relief and trepidation filling you. “Tomorrow, then,” you repeated, feeling a hint of warmth at the thought. “It seems my brothers cannot resist making a fuss.”
Choso chuckled, squeezing your hand gently. “It’s what we’re here for. And perhaps Sukuna’s presence will help you feel a bit more at ease during the house party. He’ll see to it that no one bothers you unduly.”
You couldn’t help but smile at that, the thought of Sukuna’s reassuring, if overbearing, presence lifting your spirits slightly. “Well, at least there’s that to look forward to,” you murmured, and, with a soft sigh, leaned back against your pillows, letting Choso’s calming presence ease the lingering shadows of last night’s ordeal, even if temporary.
For you had a beast of a social gathering to deal with today, the same one where the ton would descend upon the outcome of your match, ready to laugh at you: the house party.
“He what?”
You flinched, scowling as you clutched your ears. Nobara’s shrill voice was not helping your recovery, nor were her rough combs through your hair; but alas, beauty has a price, and it’s one you’re reluctantly willing to pay. You oh-so terribly wanted to politely decline the formal invitation, but it seemed that the moment you woke, your mother was dead set on getting you ready for what she thought was your engagement party. Little did she know that her not so future in law had gotten rid of you as if you were a stray animal latched onto him, but who were you to burst her bubble?
Perhaps you ought to dread the inevitable fallout from your mother when the truth emerged, but you consoled yourself with the thought of drowning your sorrows in champagne tonight, delaying her wrath for at least a little while. Besides, the prospect of Sukuna’s impending arrival tomorrow brought you some comfort; his unruly nature often served as a distraction from your own troubles.
You sighed heavily, meeting Nobara’s furious gaze in the mirror. “He merely said he wished to absolve me of any trouble he had caused.”
“Good riddance!” Nobara shrieked, her hand furiously waving around the hair brush in a way that made you wary, for it would not be pleasant for it to make contact with your already tender head. “He was never the one for you to pursue, for he lacks the honor of a true gentleman! And yet—oh, heavens!” She gestured at you accusingly with the brush, her tone turning sharp. “Why, pray, do you appear so disheartened?”
You open your mouth immediately, indignant and expecting your wit, your usual ally, to conjure a response for you, only to be left open-mouthed when it came up short. Nobara seemed to sense your hesitance, opening her mouth to unleash yet another accusatory and reprimanding remark, but you quickly moved to fill your silence. “I suppose I am just…offended that he dare reject me, the diamond. The ton will seize upon this dissolution with glee. They shall revel in my supposed failure, for it will be indicative of my failure to the Queen.”
Nobara arched a brow, her skeptical silence speaking volumes. She clearly wasn’t convinced, and before she could level another charge against you, a knock sounded at the door.
“Sister, are you decent?”
“Enter, Choso,” you called out, hastily adjusting the neckline of your pale pink gown and straightening the strand of pearls around your neck.
Nobara opened the door, though she made no attempt to soften her posture. The hairbrush remained firmly in her grasp, poised like a weapon, and Choso cast it a wary glance as he stepped inside. His presence brought a sense of calm, even as his expression betrayed some inner turmoil. He hesitated for a moment before moving to sit at the edge of your vanity, his gaze flickering between you and Nobara.
You narrowed your eyes, suspicious of his silence. “Well, brother? Out with it,” you urged, though your voice lacked its usual sharpness.
He sighed, clearly reluctant. “Very well,” he began. “Pray, hear me out. You know I have never hidden my disapproval of Lord Gojo.” At the sound of that name, you flinched, though you quickly masked it with a curt nod. Choso continued nonetheless, his tone steady but earnest. “In light of recent events, I have taken it upon myself to form…a contingency plan of sorts.”
Your curiosity was piqued, though Nobara snapped at you to sit still as she continued combing through your hair. “Go on,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Choso leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering as though to ensure Nobara wouldn’t interrupt. “I have had the pleasure of conversing at length with Duke Nanami.”
You arched a brow, intrigued despite yourself. “The Duke Nanami?”
“Yes,” Choso confirmed. “He is an esteemed gentleman of considerable character, and, as fortune would have it, he is not currently pursuing anyone this season.”
Your lips parted, but no words came. Choso’s intent was clear, and the weight of his proposition settled over you like an unexpected storm. Nobara, meanwhile, had stilled entirely, her hairbrush forgotten in her hand as she turned to gawk at your brother.
“Is this,” she began, her voice disbelieving, “your solution to Gojo’s appalling behavior? To thrust her into the path of another?”
Choso shrugged, unbothered by her skepticism. “A better match by far, I would argue. The Duke has no such inclinations to trifling or dishonor.”
You sighed, leaning back as the tension in the room thickened. “And what makes you so certain the Duke would even entertain such an arrangement?” you asked, your voice tinged with a weariness you hadn’t intended to show.
Choso gave you a small smile, his hand reaching out to pat your shoulder. “Leave that to me, dear sister. For now, focus on enduring tonight’s ordeal. Tomorrow, you may take comfort in Sukuna’s arrival—and in the knowledge that your prospects are not as grim as they seem.”
You exhaled, unsure whether to feel gratitude or exasperation, as Choso rose from his seat. Whatever plans he had in motion, they would unfold in time. For now, you could only prepare yourself for the chaos that awaited.
Gojo had outdone himself. Truly, magnificently outdone himself.
From the moment you entered the house, your hand resting lightly on Choso’s arm, the stares began. They weren’t the polite glances reserved for new arrivals at such gatherings—these were sharp, lingering, and accompanied by a cacophony of whispers that only heightened your unease.
You straightened your back, chin held high, determined not to give any of them the satisfaction of seeing your discomfort. But it was impossible to ignore the way every eye seemed to follow you, every head turned to observe as you passed. Whatever it was that had stirred this interest, you were certain Gojo was at the heart of it.
Feeling the oppressive smog of stares, you knew where you could find solace: the drinks table, where you could down a flute of champagne alongside your stress. And right as you excuse yourself from Choso’s hold, who is now looking in the general direction of some men—particularly a gaggle of men that included Lord Geto and Duke Nanami, who were looking at something in the direction of the dance floor with interest. As you walk, you take in the scene: a beautiful chandelier, and red drapings and coverings embellished with gold, a bloody alternative to the Gojo icy blue. You’re not sure why today’s ensemble of colors didn’t include blue, but you believe it is fitting for what’s going to happen to you after this party is over and your mother finds out about the elephant in the room.
And as you glance longingly at the couples gliding across the floor, their movements synchronized with the lilting strains of the orchestra, your breath catches.
It is then that you see him.
Gojo Satoru is spinning a girl across the dance floor, his coat tails trailing like ribbons in the air. His lips move as he speaks, the tilt of his head paired with that too-familiar smirk. His partner laughs at something he’s said, a soft sound that reaches you even from this distance. You could almost identify her—there is no debutante in the ton you have not cataloged, no rival whose dossier you do not possess—but tonight, it does not matter. She is just a blur of chiffon and curls, another face in a sea of women enthralled by him.
Your chest tightens as you take in the scene, a memory unspooling unbidden.
Is this what your first dance with Gojo had looked like to others? Did you appear as enraptured as this girl, your steps as confident and sure beneath his lead? You remember his light touch at your back, his questions whispered so quietly you doubted even the orchestra could eavesdrop, his eyes full of a charm so practiced it felt like a spell cast just for you.
And yet now, the spell is broken.
He is steering her—steering everything—with such ease that it almost makes you laugh. Were he not so infuriating, you might have admired his grace, the way he seamlessly dominates both the conversation and the dance. His amusement is evident in the quirk of his brow, the corners of his mouth curling with every word she utters, no doubt answering his questions with meek enthusiasm.
She is simple. You can tell from the way he looks at her, the way he pauses before replying as if translating his own thoughts into something digestible for her. The way she beams at him—unaware of how deeply he calculates every move—is almost endearing. Almost.
He is drawing the same conclusions he did of you. Simple, lacking substance.
The thought leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
But then the girl laughs again, a little too loud, and Gojo’s expression flickers for just a second—long enough for you to notice. His smile tightens, his gaze sliding briefly across the room as though searching for something more stimulating. It is instinctual, this glance, and his head tilts in such a way that you know it will land on you if you linger a moment longer.
Your heart stutters in protest, your legs already moving.
Punch table. Right.
As you near it, you grab the closest drink and down it one sip, desperate for the cool of the liquid to calm both your throat and your heated mind, furious with thoughts and anxiety of those around you. And it was just as you begin to set down the cool glass that in your periphery comes the man who soon tests your resolve.
“Miss Itadori,” a voice drawled behind you, the unmistakable lilt of smugness weaving through it.
You turned, and there stood Naoya Zen’in, his grin as unctuous as ever. He bowed slightly, though the gesture felt more like mockery than courtesy. “I must say, you are positively radiant tonight.”
You inclined your head ever so slightly, each movement deliberate. “Mr. Zen’in. How kind of you to say.”
He grinned, and the sight was unsettling, a serpent preparing to strike. “Radiant, yes. A pity Lord Gojo has finally come to his senses and moved on. I thought the two of you might actually prove interesting.”
Your stomach churned, but you kept your expression serene. “I fail to see how my affairs are of interest to you, Mr. Zen’in.”
“Oh, but they are,” he said, stepping closer, his voice lowering as though he were sharing a confidant’s secret. “Everyone is watching, you know. Wondering why Lord Gojo is…otherwise occupied tonight.” He tilted his head, motioning discreetly toward the mantle, a few meters away, where Gojo stood, entertaining and welcoming another lady.
Your eyes betrayed you, flicking briefly in that direction. Gojo’s figure remained in your periphery, still close enough to notice but far enough to be unattainable. You tore your gaze away, unwilling to feed Naoya’s glee.
Naoya leaned in, his tone growing more audacious. “Quite the spectacle, wouldn’t you agree? Though perhaps it’s for the best. You have much to offer, Miss Itadori—breeding hips, for one.”
The words hit you like a slap, your mind reeling in fury and disbelief. Your breath hitched, but before you could muster a scathing retort, something else caught your attention.
Gojo’s hand, resting casually against the column, tightened into a fist. The movement was subtle, but unmistakable—a barely contained tension that you might have missed if you weren’t already attuned to his every breath, his every twitch.
Still, you refused to look directly at him. Whatever he felt, it mattered not.
“Mr. Zen’in,” you began, voice icy and measured, though the rage burned beneath the surface, “your comments are as inappropriate as they are unwelcome. I suggest—”
“Sister.”
Choso’s voice interrupted like a lifeline thrown to a drowning sailor. You turned to see your older brother approaching, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as they darted between you and Naoya. He came to your side, his imposing presence creating an impenetrable wall between you and the unwelcome intruder.
“Mr. Zen’in,” Choso greeted with a curt nod, his tone laced with a warning. “I trust you’ll excuse my sister. She and I were just about to take a turn about the room.”
Naoya’s grin faltered, but he recovered quickly, stepping back with a mocking bow. “Of course. Do enjoy your evening.”
Choso wasted no time, offering his arm to you. You took it gratefully, your legs unsteady as he guided you away from the scene and toward a quieter corner of the ballroom.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his voice gentle but firm, as though bracing himself for a truth he might not like.
You nodded, though the words escaped you. Your hands trembled slightly, and Choso placed his over yours, steadying you. “I saw the way you looked,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “At Lord Gojo.”
Your breath caught, but you said nothing, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of your brother’s steps.
“Whatever he’s done—or hasn’t done—you are worth far more than his regard,” Choso continued, his tone resolute. “Do not forget that.” A pause. “Are you all right, Sister?”
“I am fine,” you lied, though your trembling hands betrayed you.
The evening only worsened from there.
More and more, you felt the weight of curious glances, the whispers growing louder as the night wore on. The absence of Gojo’s attention did not go unnoticed—least of all by your mother, who approached you and Choso with a determined expression, her fan snapping shut with a sharp flick of her wrist.
The warmth of the ballroom’s lights could not thaw the ice that slipped down your spine as your mother approached. Her movements were poised as ever, but the tightness in her lips and the fury barely hidden in her eyes told you everything. She stopped just short of you, her fan snapping shut with a sharp click that made you flinch.
“Explain,” she hissed, her voice low enough to avoid drawing the attention of onlookers but sharp enough to carve into you.
Your breath caught in your throat. You glanced towards Choso for reinforcement, but his furrowed brow and subtle shake of his head told you he would not intervene—not yet.
“I… don’t understand, Mother,” you murmured, though the words tasted hollow even as you said them.
“Do not toy with me, child,” she snapped, her tone still hushed but more cutting. “The entire room is whispering. Where is Lord Gojo? Why has he not so much as glanced in your direction tonight? Why is he—” Her eyes darted to the waltz floor, where Gojo had just excused himself from yet another partner. “Why is he dancing with others while you stand here like a forgotten debutante?”
The words hit like a slap, and you flinched again, your gaze falling to your gloved hands. You wanted to speak, to explain, but the lump in your throat grew larger with every second.
Her voice softened but grew no less fierce. “What have you done?”
Your chest tightened, and for a fleeting moment, you considered telling her everything—about the garden, about Gojo’s words, about how utterly humiliated you had felt. But then the heat of the ballroom pressed down on you, the glances from curious onlookers prickling your skin like needles.
You couldn’t. Not here.
So, you said nothing.
The silence between you stretched thin, your mother’s patience fraying with every passing moment. Finally, she straightened, her lips pressed into a pale line. “This is how you repay all that has been done for you?” she whispered, her voice trembling with restrained fury. “Do you even comprehend what this will do to your prospects? To this family? You have disgraced yourself, and worse—you have disgraced me.”
Her words left you hollow, the guilt settling into the spaces where indignation might have taken root. Still, you could not look up, nor could you summon any defense.
Your mother’s fan snapped open again with a sharp flick, the motion more violent than graceful. “We are leaving,” she declared, turning abruptly on her heel. “Now.”
Choso stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against your elbow as if to steady you. You dared a glance at him, finding his gaze steady and quietly supportive. It was only his presence that kept your legs moving as you followed your mother toward the grand doors.
The weight of the room’s collective gaze bore down on you with every step. The music swelled in the background, mocking you with its cheerfulness. As you neared the exit, your feet faltered.
And then you saw him.
Gojo.
He stood near the edge of the dance floor, his posture uncharacteristically tense, his jaw clenched tightly, his usual easy confidence dimmed. His head tilted slightly, his eyes cutting through the crowd to meet yours.
Your breath hitched. In his gaze, you saw regret—yearning, even—and something else you couldn’t quite name.
But it didn’t matter.
You tore your eyes away, your jaw tightening as a steely resolve settled over you.
You would not break.
Not here. Not now. Not for him.
As you stepped into the cool night air, you drew in a deep breath, willing the ache in your chest to dissipate. Gojo Satoru had taken enough from you. Your heart, your dignity—no more.
If he thought you would crumble, he was mistaken.
He would regret this, you vowed silently.
And you would make certain of it.
The morning that came in a few days was no less disheartening than the night of the house party. The morning sun filtered weakly through the gauzy curtains of the drawing room, casting pale, lackluster patterns on the carpet. Even the sunlight seemed hesitant, as if it knew it had no place in the solemn atmosphere that hung over your family.
Even Yuji was solemn as you all sipped on your tea, the drawing room oddly quiet as you reflected in the aftermath of the past few days. The events of the house party still loomed over you. Your family’s hasty departure had been punctuated by the sight of your mother in whispered conversation with Duchess Gojo, their faces tight with the bitterness of dashed expectations. You had no doubt they had commiserated over your perceived recklessness and Gojo’s insolence, lamenting how the perfect match they had orchestrated had unraveled before their very eyes.
You had borne it all in silence.
But now, in the cold light of morning, your resolve felt brittle.
Your hands tightened around your teacup as you stared into the amber liquid, your reflection rippling with each shallow breath you took. Independence? That word felt hollow. You had fought for it, yes, but at what cost? The ton’s whispers had already begun. You could feel their weight pressing on you, suffocating in their judgment. The laughter and speculation at your expense would echo through parlors and ballrooms for weeks, if not months.
And yet, deep down, there was a spark of defiance. They thought this was your undoing. They thought you would crumble. But they had no idea.
"Why does it feel like we’re mourning?" Yuji muttered, breaking the silence. His voice was quiet, but the sarcasm was unmistakable. "It’s not as though anyone has died."
Your mother’s sigh this time was louder, sharper, and followed by a pointed glance in his direction. “Yuji, do not jest,” she snapped. "This is no laughing matter."
Choso, who had been reclining with one arm draped lazily over the armrest of his chair, sat up straighter. “Mother,” he said cautiously, his voice soft but steady, “I think it’s time we address what’s truly troubling you.”
Her handkerchief stilled in her lap. For a moment, the room was silent again, the tension thick enough to choke on.
“Troubling me?” she repeated, her tone icy. “You think I am troubled, Choso?”
“Everyone is troubled,” Choso replied, his gaze flicking briefly to you. "But perhaps if you said what’s on your mind, we could all breathe a little easier."
Your mother’s lips thinned as she sat up straighter, her shoulders stiff. “Very well,” she said sharply, “if you must know, I am ashamed.”
The word hit you like a slap, even though you had expected it. You gritted your teeth, staring down at your tea to hide the flush of anger and embarrassment creeping up your neck.
“Ashamed of what?” you asked quietly, your voice tighter than you intended.
“Of you,” she replied without hesitation. “Of the scandal you have brought upon this family. Do you think your actions have no consequences? Do you think the ton will simply overlook your…” She hesitated, clearly searching for the most cutting word. “Your antics with Lord Gojo?”
You felt Choso stiffen beside you, his protective instincts clearly flaring, but you held up a hand to stop him. You wouldn’t hide behind your brothers—not this time.
“I have done nothing wrong,” you said, your voice low but firm. “Gojo and I made a mutual decision that we were incompatible. We—”
“You humiliated yourself!” she interrupted, her voice rising. “And by extension, this family. Do you think people are speaking of him? No! It is you they ridicule. It is your name they sully.”
Your chest burned with anger and hurt, but before you could retort, Yuji shifted uncomfortably, muttering, “This is getting out of hand…”
“You think I care about their opinions?” you snapped, finally lifting your gaze to meet your mother’s. “The ton has always been cruel. They would find a reason to gossip no matter what I did. I refuse to live my life pandering to their expectations—”
“And look where that refusal has left you,” your mother interrupted, her voice shaking with fury. “Unmarried. Ruined. Who will have you now?”
You flinched, the words cutting deeper than you thought possible. Your lips parted, but no words came out. What could you possibly say to that?
The silence that followed was deafening.
Until a voice, smooth and amused, broke it.
“Now, now, Mother. I know you’ve always had a flair for the dramatic, but let us not turn your theatrics onto our dearest sister.”
All heads turned toward the entrance, where a figure lounged against the doorway, his presence commanding without even trying. There he stood—Sukuna, your brother, looking entirely too pleased with himself for someone who had kept you waiting for days. Both you and Yuji involuntarily gasped in excitement, while Choso only shook his head in amusement and crossed his arms.
He strode into the room with an air of nonchalance, his tailored attire immaculate, his smile one of mocking amusement. His gaze flicked to your mother, then to you, lingering for a moment as if to appraise the damage left in her wake.
“Good morning,” he said smoothly, the corners of his mouth curling. “I trust I’ve arrived in time to save you from a most tiresome sermon.”
Your mother bristled, but her voice faltered, her ire now redirected. “Sukuna, this is hardly the time for your irreverence—”
“And yet here I am,” he interrupted, dropping into a chair with the kind of ease that only Sukuna could muster. He leaned back, his sharp gaze softening just slightly as it fell on you. “I thought you might appreciate a reprieve. You seem to have had enough lectures for a lifetime.”
You could feel tears welling in your eyes. You had severely underestimated how much you missed your elder brother, seeing his presence stir a fondness and comfort you hadn’t felt ever since he left for Europe. And it seemed that your brothers shared your sentiment; Yuji was basically on his haunches, doing everything he could not to leave his chair to tackle Sukuna, and Choso barely holding in an amused smile.
“Still causing chaos wherever you go, I see,” Choso said dryly, though there was no malice in his tone.
Sukuna smirked. “Someone has to keep things interesting.”
Your mother huffed, her lips pressing into a thin line as she rose from her seat. “I refuse to be made a fool in my own home. Sukuna, do try not to corrupt your siblings further while I attend to matters of actual importance.” She swept out of the room with her usual imperious grace, leaving a silence in her wake.
As soon as she left, you left your chair to basically jumping on him, hugging him tightly as he reciprocated your hug with wrapping his big arms around yours with equal fervor. “Kuna,” you whispered, burying your face into his chest as the tears started flowing. His presence surrounded you, offering you a comfort and familiarity that the eventful weeks, ever since your debut, hadn’t offered
Sukuna looked down to you with a raised brow as he patted your head affectionately. “Well, that was entertaining. Now, who’s going to tell me what truly happened while I was gone?”
prev. the fall | next. soon!
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a/n hi everyone!!! so i lied and said the update wasn't gonna take as long #womaninmalefields BUT thank you for your patience <3
so uh....we are now gonna enter the arc with DRAMAA. there will be yearning, there will be angst, and soon after, there will be fluff. idk if anyone needs to hear this, but, again, this series will have a happy ending. if anyone is sad, don't worry. i'm going to make gojo grovel <3
SUKUNA IS BACK SUKUNA IS BACK what do we think?! spoiler alert this is what sukuna will wanna do to gojo after reader spills the tea
THANK U FOR READING!!! rest assured reader a BADDIE there will be some showing ankles and lowering bustlines to start our reputation era and infuriate gojo but u didnt hear that from me !!!
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