♫‧₊˚♪Requests are open♬⋆.˚♪

".. Well maybe if certain oversized freaks stopped appearing behind people like cursed spirits-" you're lucky you muttered that, and let's hope he didn't hear it too-

"Oversized freak?" Sukuna’s grin widened slightly

"er…respectfully"

"There was nothing respectful about that sentence."

"It was a perfectly normal reaction to being surprised" you say, sighing

"It was adorable."

"-and I don't appreciate being mocked-"

"I'm not mocking you" His grin widened "I'm enjoying this immensely,There's a difference"

You opened your mouth to argue, then closed it again, because honestly you were too tired for this, your mind wasn't even on the banter,and obviously sukuna noticed instantly-how hollow you sounded,He noticed the delayed reactions, the tension in your shoulders,the way your sarcasm lacked its usual bite.

......

Ryomen Sukuna was not a fool.

People feared him for good reason-He ruled through overwhelming strength, violence so absolute entire nations bent beneath it. People lied constantly in his presence-they trembled,begged, even schemed.

And Sukuna noticed everything.

So naturally,the moment he first laid eyes on the strange little "scribe" with unevenly cut hair ,delicate hands and a voice strained half to death trying to sound manly, he OBVIOUSLY knew, The realization itself almost offended him.

A woman-Disguised poorly enough to fool ordinary soldiers perhaps,but wandering freely through HIS palace as though Ryomen Sukuna himself would fail to notice?!

Ridiculous,utterly ridiculous.

the audacity of her to think she couldv'e fooled THE king of curses playing dress up in his own palace,that itself was extreamely entertaining to him.

you hadn't trembled during their first meeting,no desperate apologies or fear.. just..irritation? well yes, bratty irritation to be exact. as if being questioned by the king of curses himself inconvenienced you personally- and sukuna found it amusing immediately,so he allowed it.

Allowed you to continue your pathetic little disguise,

Allowed you into his quarters,

Allowed himself to watch you struggle through paperwork,endless excuses and terrible attempts at masking yourself.

though in all truth - even though he'd managed to recognize your disguise spot on, He still had not connected you to the missing concubine the injured official kept obsessively whining about.

a missing woman and an irritating fake scribe hardly seemed related..well, atleast not yet

.......

The evening garden party felt suffocating and clustrophobic,music drifted softly throughout the hall whilst servants moved gracefully between low tables pouring tea and sake,but noritoshi kamo barely noticed any of it.

Every conversation around him sounded ..wrong

Too careful? or is it too polite..?

"…A difficult recovery,I assume?"

"You should continue resting your arm properly"

"What unfortunate circumstances"

right, Unfortunate.

His jaw tightened. Across the table,another official offered him a polished smile before slowly setting down his cup.

"Regarding the agreement between our clans," the man began carefully,"..I believe it may be wiser to postpone negotiations for now."

kamo's face twisted just slightly "You are withdrawing."

"Not withdrawing," the man corrected smoothly "Merely..reconsidering"

Tch Liar, another coward

he felt his semi-paralysed arm throb faintly beneath the layers of fabric-another constant reminder, a constant humiliation

"You already agreed." he said coldly

"..and circumstances change"

The man’s gaze flickered meaningfully toward his arm before quickly looking away again..pity.

and that was worse than mockery.

kamo felt something ugly twist violently in his chest. All because of a woman- because of an insignificant concubine- something to be "used quietly and trashed aside"-if you will.

How humiliating, absurd even. A man of his status reduced to whispered conversations and cautious glances because some frightened little woman had fought back harder than expected.

at first, it hadn't bothered him much-like it's just an arm, it would fix itself after some care...eh-probably. No,it wasn’t the injury that poisoned him.It was everything that came after.

it hadn't worried him, not until he saw how his reputation was dropping, not until clan agreements abruptly got "postponed" not until- Across the hall, several nobles laughed quietly amongst themselves.

His stomach twisted immediately.

Were they laughing at him? probably, definitely I mean, wasn't evreyone..

eventually he rose abruptly from the gathering, ignoring the lingering stares as he stepped out into the quieter palace corridors.

Cool evening air brushed against his face.

oh how Pathetic, All of them.

just cowards hiding mockery behind polished smiles and false sympathy

as he walked down the hallway, movement further down the veranda caught his attention

oh,it's Ryomen Sukuna.

Leaning lazily beside one of the open wooden pillars overlooking the gardens as though the entire world just.. bored him.

The official’s gaze darkened slightly, eyeing sukuna. tch.that arrogant monster- before another figure beside Sukuna caught his eye, a small one, dressed in dark robes

it's that irritating palace scribe Sukuna had kept unusually close for the past few weeks.

You were crouched beside few open documents whilst quietly explaining something written across the page.

Sukuna looked amused-intrigued ? interested ??

???

kamo slowly stilled.

Sukuna suddenly reached down, fingers briefly brushing beneath your chin as he pointed at something on the paper, You visibly startled before glaring up at him with obvious irritation.

Familiar...or...is he just going paranoid ???

His stomach twisted violently-oh he definitely was NOT going paranoid, those eyes-the way her eyebrows twitched in recoil-

The realization struck so suddenly it nearly made him dizzy ??? ,felt like something ugly rushed beneath the rage.. was it excitement ???

boy is the paranoia obsession getting out of hand now..

Then his gaze shifted back toward Sukuna, towards the clearcut amusement resting carelessly across the King of Curse’s face.

oh.

"…so Ryomen Sukuna knew."

Feeling kinda gege akutami might kill off geto🫦

Other parts:

Strawberries, Instant noodles, Bandages, always the same like ritual offerings.

The fluorescent lights bleach the sharpness from his face, but not enough to make him look human. He wears exhaustion like ceremonial robes. Dark circles beneath his eyes. Hair tied back messily, as if his hands were unfamiliar with gentleness. Sometimes there are bruises blooming beneath the collar of his sweatshirt like crushed violets.

You do not ask questions. Night shift teaches you there are two kinds of lonely people: the ones who want to be found, and the ones who pray nobody looks too closely.

Choso belongs to the second kind. For weeks he says almost nothing.

“Bag?” “Yes.”

Your fingers brush his palm accidentally, it lasts less than a second but Choso recoils slightly afterward. Not in disgust, it was an alarm like his body responded before his mind could.

You stare at him and he stares at the bag in his hand as suddenly the silence between you changes shape.

“You know,” you say carefully, “most people don’t look like they’re preparing for impact when someone touches them.”

His throat moves and the fluorescent lights paint silver against the dark strands of hair falling near his face.

“I’m not used to it.”

The answer is simple, too simple. Not an "I dislike it." or a "Don’t touch me". It was just "I’m not used to it." and something inside your chest aches quietly.

After that, you begin touching him on purpose.

Your knee knocking against his beneath the counter while showing him how lottery tickets work. Fingertips brushing over his palm as you offerded him the change or receipt. Passing him coffee cups directly into his hands instead of setting them down first.

Every time, Choso stills and every time, he allows it. Like someone standing in ocean water despite never having learned how to swim.

He starts coming earlier, not to buy anything but just to exist near you.

The realization arrives slowly.

First, you notice he never interrupts your tasks. He simply follows the motion of your body with his eyes while pretending not to. You mop the floor and Choso watches the reflection of your movements in wet tile. You restock shelves and his gaze tracks your hands sliding cans into neat rows. You laugh at something on your phone and his expression softens instantly, unconsciously, like flowers turning toward sunlight.

It unsettles you at first not because it feels invasive. Because it feels intimate in a way you cannot explain.

Like being seen too clearly.

One night you catch him staring openly at your hands again.

“What is it with you and my hands?”

He looks genuinely surprised to have been caught.

“They move gently.”

You laugh softly. “That’s a weird thing to notice.”

“No,” he says immediately.

The word lands heavily. Earnestly.

His eyes lower back toward your fingers where they tap idly against the countertop.

“You touch things like they matter.”

The refrigerators hum behind you and outside, headlights smear gold across rain-slick pavement. And something about the way he says it makes heat gather beneath your ribs, because suddenly you understand: Nobody has touched Choso gently before, not really, not without wanting something or without fear.

The realization follows you home that night like a second shadow.

Outside, rainwater gathers in potholes reflecting neon signs in warped reds and blues. The city at night feels submerged. Everything humming softly underwater.

Then one evening, sometime in November, he appears at the counter holding a single yogurt cup in addition to his usual things.

You glance up while scanning it and before thinking, you say:

“Do you always look this sad buying yogurt?”

Silence. Horrible silence.

You immediately regret it. But then something happens, not quite a smile. Choso looks at you like you’ve struck a match inside his chest.

“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “I’ve never bought yogurt before.”

You laugh softly not mocking, just surprised. And Choso, who has survived blood and ruin and grief so enormous it hollowed him into something almost inhuman, feels warmth move through him for the first time in years.

For moths he has orbiting you.

He learns your schedule without asking. Appears during the slow hours when the city goes quiet and the refrigerators hum loud enough to sound like distant machinery aboard a spaceship.

You couldn’t help it– you befriended him the way you befriend something fragile without meaning to. Slowly. Accidental at first. A shared silence that stopped feeling like distance. A question here, a softer answer there. The kind of friendship that doesn’t announce itself, just quietly takes up residence in the gaps of your routine until one day you realize it’s been there for a long time, breathing gently beside you.

Sometimes he buys things he clearly does not understand.

A tiny cactus. Orange juice with pulp. A magazine about home organization.

Once he stares at fabric softener for nearly ten minutes before finally asking, with complete seriousness:

“What does lavender do to clothing?”

You blink.

“It makes it smell nice.” “…Why?”

The question is so genuine it nearly breaks your heart.

You teach him laundromats first because Choso washes his clothes by hand in his sink, wringing them out with enough force to tear seams.

The laundromat near your apartment is open all night, full of sleepy college students and old women reading romance novels beneath buzzing lights.

Choso watches the machines spin with narrowed eyes.

“It’s hypnotic,” you tell him.

“It looks violent.”

“That too.”

He sits beside you while your clothes tumble dry, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the circular windows like he’s watching another universe rotate slowly into existence.

December arrives wrapped in rain.

The city glistens constantly now. Sidewalks lacquered black beneath streetlights. Cars hissing through puddles. Steam rising from sewer grates like the earth itself is trying to breathe.

Sometimes, after your shift, Choso walks you home in silence, the kind that settles naturally between two people no longer afraid of each other. You sit together on the fire escape outside your apartment while rain falls in silver threads across the sleeping city.

Choso likes storms. You think it’s because thunder sounds similar to loneliness.

One night you find him staring at your braid while you complain about customers.

“…Can I try?”

You blink.“Try what?”

“That.”

You hand him the hair tie and his large hands move with terrifying caution like he’s defusing a bomb.

The first attempt falls apart instantly and the second tangles horribly while by the third try, his fingers begin understanding rhythm. Over, under, pull gently. You feel his concentration like heat against your spine.

“There,” he murmurs eventually, almost surprised.

You touch the braid, it’s crooked and messy. But perfect.

“Good job.”

And Choso looks away too quickly afterward, as if praise physically wounds him.

The braid becomes ritual. You sit on the floor between his knees after shifts while rain taps softly against your apartment windows and his first his fingers shake too badly. Not from nervousness but from restraint.

Choso touches you like someone handling holy things incorrectly. Every brush of fingertips through your hair carries unbearable concentration. He separates strands slowly, carefully, learning texture and weight and softness by memory.

“Too tight?” he asks constantly.

“No.” “This?” “That’s fine.”

“You’d tell me if it hurt?”

You lean back slightly until your spine rests against his legs and you can feel his heartbeat through the fabric of his clothes.

Violently fast.

“Relax,” you murmur.

His hands still in your hair.

“I am relaxed.”

You laugh so hard you nearly ruin the braid and behind you, hidden safely from sight, Choso smiles. Small and fragile.

Beautiful enough to make gods jealous.

One evening you cut your finger opening a cardboard box at work. Nothing serious just shallow slice across your knuckle but Choso notices instantly and his expression changes with frightening speed.

You barely register movement before he’s beside you and large hands wrapping carefully around your wrist.

“Does it hurt?”

The question comes rough, too intense for such a tiny wound.

You blink at him.

The proximity suddenly overwhelming.

He’s close enough now that you can feel warmth radiating from his body. Close enough to see the faint scar cutting across the bridge of his nose. Close enough that the scent of rain and detergent clings softly to his clothes.

“It’s just paper,” you whisper.

But Choso is staring at the blood gathering beneath your skin with an expression so mournful it feels ancient as if pain itself offends him when it belongs to you.

He cleans the cut in complete silence. Bandages your hand with terrifying precision and his fingers are huge compared to yours.

When he finishes, he continues holding your hand absentmindedly.

Thumb resting lightly against your pulse.

Neither of you mention it and neither of you move away. And somewhere between the humming refrigerators and midnight rain, you realize something terrible: you have started measuring safety by the shape of Choso’s hands around you.

Later, much later, maybe in april or may, after you fall asleep against his chest for the first time, Choso remains motionless for nearly four hours. Not because he’s uncomfortable but because he’s afraid the moment will disappear if he moves.

Your body fits against his like trust given physical form.

Soft breaths warming the fabric over his heart. One hand curled loosely near his ribs. Completely defenseless and unafraid.

Choso stares at the top of your head while rainwater traces silver lines down the apartment windows.

And for the first time in his life, he understands why ordinary people stay alive for ordinary things. For warm apartments. For shared silence. For someone sleep-heavy and trusting in your arms while the world softens outside.

You shift slightly in your sleep and instinctively, his hand moves to steady you. Gentle and immediate like his body already belongs to loving you.

Choso lowers his head just enough for his cheek to rest lightly against your hair. Not enough to wake you but enough to feel real, and somewhere in the quiet darkness of your apartment, the monster inside him finally realizes: he is being held too.

And in the quiet, where nothing extraordinary survives, Choso learns that loving you was never a rupture in his life at all, only the beginning of how it finally became ordinary.

"...Pardon?"

"Your right arm" Sukuna's tone was casual, well.. conversational? "You haven't used it once this entire meeting. What happened?"

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as Lord kamo's jaw tightened visibly, his grip on the sake cup turning white just a moment before he forced his expression back into something ..resembling composure.

"...A minor injury," he said stiffly "Nothing worth discussing."

"Mm." Sukuna's eyes gleamed with faint amusement "Must have been quite the 'minor injury' if you still can't move it properly."

The official's face flushed slightly-whether from anger or embarrassment-eh it was hard to tell

"I expected more from the servants and maidens assigned to my quarters," he said, voice tight with barely covered irritation. "Some... annoying brat tried playing tricks, Got lucky with a hairpin, of all things"

He laughed, but it sounded forced..Bitter?

"Honestly, the quality of help these days is-"

"A hairpin," Sukuna repeated flatly.

"Yes? "

"And you let someone stab you with a hairpin."

The official's eye twitched.

"As I said, she got lucky"

"Clearly."

Silence stretched between them, reeaaal uncomfortable.

Sukuna took a slow sip of his own sake, watching the man's face carefully. The embarrassment was obvious-a high ranking official, injured by what he was trying very hard to frame as some 'weak, insignificant woman.'

tch. Pathetic, really.

But also... oddly specific

"Well," Sukuna said eventually, setting his cup down with casualness. "I'm sure she's learned her lesson"

"She's gone," the official snapped, then immediately seemed to regret the outburst.he cleared his throat, forcing his voice back into something calmer

"The girl disappeared the same night, Escaped somehow" His fingers drummed against the table with his good hand. "But I know she's still alive."

Sukuna raised one eyebrow slightly.

"hm..Do you now?"

"Yes" kamo leaned forward, expression hardening into something more serious. "I know she's alive, Ryomen. And I know she couldn't have gotten far-not without help."

His gaze was pointed, almost..accusatory?

"and I want you to find her for me."

Sukuna stared at him for a long moment, expression utterly unreadable.Then he laughed ,and It wasn't a kind sound.

"You want me to waste my time hunting down some runaway concubine?

"She attacked me-"

"With a hairpin," Sukuna reminded him, voice dripping with amusement. "Which you just admitted she got 'lucky' with"

The official's face twisted

"This isn't a joke-"

"No, you're right. It's not." Sukuna's smirk was sharp "It's just pathetic."

kamo's jaw clenched so hard that it looked painful.

"She's a criminal. She-"

"eh-she's probably dead already," Sukuna interrupted, waving one hand dismissively. "If she even managed to escape at all, which I doubt. Most likely collapsed somewhere outside the palace walls and died pathetically in a ditch."

He picked up his sake cup again, examining it with far more interest than he'd shown the official. well damn.

"Problem solved."

"That's not-"

"Unless," Sukuna continued, voice dropping into something more dangerous, "you're suggesting she's still here, In the palace,Right under our noses?"

The official hesitated for a moment

"er...I'm saying it's possible."

"Then you're an idiot."

....

kamo's face was red now, fists clenched against the table, but he couldn't say anything- Couldn't argue,Not without admitting how desperately he wanted to find one "mere weak woman"-not without revealing how much it bothered him that she'd gotten away. Sukuna just watched the internal struggle play out across the man's face with barely concealed entertainment

Humans were so predictable when their pride was wounded.

"IF she's alive," Sukuna said eventually, tone bored again, "she'll turn up eventually,They always do."

He stood, signaling the end of the meeting.

"Until then, I suggest you focus on matters that actually require my attention. Like the northern provinces you were babbling about earlier"

kamo remained seated, jaw working silently.

"...Of course, Lord Sukuna"

As Sukuna left the hall, he caught the man's expression one last time-frustrated, humiliated, and just seething beneath the forced composure.

Interesting,very interesting.

...

you were going to die.

well, not dramatically like- not in some grand confrontation-no, you were going to die from the sheer exhaustion and paranoia before anyone even got the chance to execute you properly.

The sun had barely risen when you'd started your one-person mission to become the most forgettable, invisible person in the entire palace.

So far, it was going...erm..poorly

"-need someone to organize the storage-"

You turned a corner before the servant could finish speaking.

yeah no, no way-not today.

Your footsteps echoed too loudly against the wooden floors as you speed walked down another corridor, heart hammering against your ribs.

gosshh how every sound felt amplified,and every shadow looked suspicious

That person walking toward you,shit-were they looking at you? Did they recognize you? Should you turn around? No, turning around looks suspicious.Just keep walking, act natural. wait What does natural even look like? girl what are you doing get tf up.

"Excuse me-"You nearly jumped out of your skin, spinning around to find a confused servant holding a stack of scrolls.

"...Do you know where the records room is?"

"No," you said too quickly, pupils blown wide from the sheer adrenaline

The servant blinked

"er...Are you alright?"

"oh im fine,never been better actually"

You turned and walked away before they could ask anything else, resisting the urge to just sprint across.

This was fine, matter of fact Everything was fine.

You just needed to stay invisible for one day..Maybe two! well Maybe for the rest of your life,nothing too bad!

and by midday, you'd successfully avoided Uraume three separate times.

The first time, you'd spotted their distinctive white hair from across the courtyard and immediately ducked behind a decorative pillar, holding your breath until they passed. The second , you'd heard their voice around a corner and promptly turned around and walked in the opposite direction,almost colliding into a guard in the process. and the third, you'd been hiding in the records room (because apparently you did know where it was) when you heard footsteps approaching and immediately dove behind a shelf of scrolls, maybe a little dramatic..

i mean,to be fair,the situation IS a littl-

"...I know you're in here."

You froze, blood turning to ice, all while Uraume's voice was calm, unbothered, and maybe a little too close.

"Lord Sukuna requested your presence an hour ago."

oh wow

"If you do not come out, I will simply wait here until you do."

You pressed yourself further against the shelf, praying that the shadows were dark enough to hide you.

....

'mercifully', the footsteps retreated

"...You cannot hide forever."

that was all you heard before the door slid shut. You waited another five minutes before finally exhaling and slumping against the shelf with your heart still racing. cliterelly, what do you even do in this situation. This was unsustainable.

But what choice did you have?

.....

by late afteroon,your chest ached from the bindings, hands were shaking slightly from the constant adrenaline,well atleast your throat was fine since you hadn't spoke with anyone...

You'd managed to find a quiet corner near the kitchens where you could sit and eat something without drawing attention,but you were still wary, evrytime rough footsteps passed by, your chopsticks slightly clattered against the bowl.

This was ridiculous.You were being ridiculous.

no one knew you were here,even if they did they couldn't possibly recognize you-You looked completely different now-different clothes,your long hair now unevely chopped, different everything.

You were safe!-

"-heard Lord Sukuna's been in a strange mood lately-"

what?

"-he's keeping that weird little scribe close to him"

"who? the rude one?"

"yeah the one that talks back..."

"i guess he finds him entertaining"

"yeah maybe he enjoys bullying him"

They laughed and moved on, leaving you sitting frozen in place.

Entertaining?? He found you entertaining?

You weren't sure if that was better or worse than being considered a threat.

........

after spending the entire day jumping at shadows, hiding from Uraume, and trying desperately not to think about the fact that somewhere in this palace, the man who'd tried to assault you was walking around freely, alive Looking for you.

Your hands clenched into fists against your robes.

you should have stabbed him harder.

You should have aimed to drag straight across his throat instead of his hand.

you should have-

"There you are."

You spun around so fast that you nearly tripped over your own feet,as Uraume stood in the doorway, expression as blank as ever. so much aura loss.

"Lord Sukuna has requested your presence,Again."

"I'm busy," you said automatically

"..You are hiding behind a decorative plant?"

"...It's a very important plant..?"

Uraume just stared at you as You stared back.

"If you do not come willingly," they said calmly, "I have been authorized to drag you."

goodbye what.

"...That seems excessive"

"I agree. Yet here we are."

ok, so let's weigh our options,Running seemed appealing but ultimately pointless. Fighting Uraume would probably result in your immediate death. Going to Sukuna's quarters meant potentially running into-

No, he wouldn't be there.He was probably in some meeting somewhere, doing whatever horrible things warlords did in meetings,You'd be fine.

"...Fine," you muttered, stepping out from behind the plant with as much dignity as you could manage.

well..Which wasn't much..

Uraume turned and began walking, and you followed reluctantly.By the time you reached Sukuna's quarters, your heart was hammering so hard you were surprised Uraume couldn't hear it.

They slid the door open.

"Your scribe, as requested."

Then they just.. left.

such a traitor omg.

You stood in the doorway, frozen, scanning the room quickly.

wait..it's empty..?

No Sukuna,No officials,just scrolls and maps and the usual organized chaos. oh wow. Relief flooded through you so intensely and it felt amazing.

You stepped inside carefully, closing the door behind you, and immediately collapsed against the nearest wall

You were fine,Everything was fine.You just needed to catch your breath for a second, and then you'd figure out what Sukuna actually wanted, and then-

"Rough day?"

You screamed,and it wasn't a manly shout of surprise.and well..Not a dignified yelp either. t'was a full, high-pitched, absolutely feminine scream that echoed through the entireroom and probably half the palace.. geez.. So much for staying quiet all day and letting your throat recover.

Your hands flew to your mouth immediately, eyes wide with horror as your brain caught up with what just happened.

Yuh i feel tuff asl ending the chapter w a cliffhanger 😍✌️

Other parts:

If you wanna be tagged you can ask!

A common accusation is that MLM or WLW ships are 'fetishisation', meaning people assume fans are sexualising queer relationships rather than engaging with character dynamics. The term is often used loosely by some fans, without a clear understanding of what it actually means. The misuse of the term diminishes the issue when fetishisation does occur. A common argument against the very popular ships ItaFushi and SatoSugu is that 'cant two guys just be friends'. This obviously comes from a place of frustration, they see it as platonic, and get mad when someone else sees the same relationship as romantic. Most people who ship either of those ships will be able to see the platonic side, because at the end of the day, its a headcanon. Shipping is inherently down to interpretation, and you can interpret media differently to others. Often, people will promote straight ships like YutaMaki or GojoHime, and use them to dog on queer ships, saying things like "can we normalise straight ships," Straight ships have been the norm for centuries, so framing them as marginalised within fandom spaces ignores the long history of homophobia in society.

This all stems from a lack of fandom etiquette, the concept of 'don't like, don't read' may be familiar with AO3 users, but it carries across all elements of fan culture. If a person doesn't like a queer ship, they don't have to ship it. Another argument is that its 'mischaracterisation', which it usually isn't (especially Satosugu). However, if a ship is mischaracterisation, that shouldn't matter, its an opinion, not a fact. Some people, particularly male fans, use these arguments to dismiss or ridicule fangirls, reinforcing both misogyny and gatekeeping within fandom spaces. 

Kirara, who has recently been in the spotlight, is widely understood to be trans. Shes an excellent portrayal of a very underrepresented community in anime. Some fans seem to have a big issue with this, claiming that Hakari is gay instead. The blatant transphobia shown by these people is deeply concerning, misgendering her out of spite. Furthermore, some  people think its acceptable to comment on her genitalia, making crude comments about how they 'Don't care and they would still crack'. This is completely unacceptable, one of few canon transfeminine characters in mainstream anime and she gets immediately disregarded and objectified as soon as her episode airs.

One thing JJK does excellently is gender ambiguous characters, Kenjaku, Uraume and Mahito could all be considered gender fluid or non binary. Though people still like to hate on trans or trans coded characters, in JJK they are well-written examples of how representation can be integrated naturally into a story. They are accepted by other characters, and their identity is never a point of contention to drive the plot. They are allowed to exist alongside other characters, rather than being ostracised. Despite this, some people will choose to single them out to further a transphobic agenda.

Naoya Zenin is a very controversial character among the fanbase. He's blatantly misogynistic, but people claim to like him because 'hes well written'. This is true, Naoya is a great example of how being raised in a toxic environment can give a person extreme views and deeply embedded misogyny. However, a common opinion is that like Maki, Mai and Toji, "Naoya is a victim too," There is an important difference between a victim of a toxic household, and a product of a toxic household. Maki and Mai were shunned and told they were useless. Toji was ostracised and thrown into a pit of curses as a child. These three are most certainly victims of the Zenin clans abuse. On the other hand, Naoya was constantly put on a pedestal. He lived with extreme privelege, and was always reassured he would eventually be the head of the clan. Naoya becomes an abuser later in live, believing that women are inferior and exist to serve him. Some readers interpret some of his comments as implying sexual violence against Mai, though this remains debated. If interpreted as sexual violence, this would be an unforgivable act, regardless of a person's background.

People who defend Naoya use another argument, that there are other, worse characters in the show. "How can you hate Naoya but love Sukuna or Kenjaku?" Simply put, most women experience sexism on a daily basis, whereas they don't get eaten and shredded by magic powers or get brought back from the dead to participate in a death game. To add to this, both Sukuna and Kenjaku hate absolutely everyone, on the contrary, Naoya hates just women. Others may say that women only like Sukuna because hes attractive, but without his attitude, most JJK fangirls agree Naoya would be pretty cute.

Furthermore one could even argue that Sukuna is actually a feminist character (yes I'm defending sukuna here ik im crazy) Firstly, Sukuna himself actually presents a lot of feminine qualities, during childhood, he was objectified and shunned for being deformed. This could be referring to the idea that women have to be beautiful to be respected in society. Sukuna then overcomes this, becoming the most powerful of his time. Cannibalism is sometimes used in feminist horror as a metaphor for reclaiming agency and power. Sukuna blurs the lines between human and curse, embodying the trope of 'the monstrous feminine' Instead of submitting to his circumstance and trying to survive by following social standards, Sukuna embraced destruction to gain power. This shows a shift in power dynamics we often see in feminist body horror, transforming from prey to predator. Feminist cannibalism is also closely connected to a praying mantis eating her mate, and Sukuna ate his own twin in the womb. This act can be interpreted symbolically, echoing themes in feminist horror where consumption represents transformation and control over one's fate.

Sukuna also shows his feminist side through his actions. He praises Maki for her strength and he also adopts Uraume, who is non binary, indicating that he doesn't care about gender. He is happily willing to fight Nobara, saying that she has lots of 'vitality' he will 'have some fun' A lot of people take this out of context and interpret this as Sukuna wants to sexually assault Nobara. In context, the line appears to refer to the thrill of combat rather than sexual intent. While Sukuna is hedonistic, we see him rejecting the sexual advances of Yorozu, so we can infer he is indifferent to this. In his introduction, he asks 'where are the women and children' The specific mention of women could be an implication of sexual violence, given that Sukuna appears largely indifferent to sexual desire, the line can be interpreted as reflecting his cruelty toward the most vulnerable rather than sexual intent. During Shibuya, Sukuna actually addresses Mimiko and Nanako before Jogo, considering hes from the Heian period, this is highly unusual, perhaps suggesting he once again doesn't care for gender stereotypes. (im a villain not a monster ahh)

Nobara is an kind and confident young girl. Shes decently strong, knows her way around a fight, and yet somehow, male fans still find ways to put her down. The biggest reason for Nobara slander is her 'attitude'. This is rooted in a hatred of outspoken young women. Her personality is similar to Yuji, but while hes 'the goat' shes an 'annoying bitch' Nobara doesn't show romantic interest in her friends, joking that Yuji would get a girlfriend before she got a boyfriend. Perhaps her open romantic desires are off-putting. Nobara has a conversation with Momo during the tournament arc. The message of the conversation was that in society, women need to be perfect to be respected, whereas men just need to be strong. As a result, when people hate on Nobara for her outspoken nature, they prove Momos point. Nobaras character exudes self love, and she doesn't rely on male validation, which often gets interpreted as having a big ego, which isn't the case. Nobara in this scene has a sort of girlboss moment, she says she loves herself when shes pretty, and when shes kicking ass. This is a really nice sentiment, and its great for young girls to hear. However, framing the moment purely as a "girlboss" scene can sometimes overshadow the deeper message about systemic misogyny in Jujutsu society. (a metaphor for women in professional settings perhaps)

Maki is another character brought up in the conversation about JJK and feminism. She overcomes her misogynistic clan and annihilates them. This part of her storyline is empowering and its great, no issues here. Unfortunately, some people sexualise Maki (calling her mommy etc) which is fine in theory as its just headcanon. However, it leads to the feminisation of Yuta in their relationship, people say she is the 'man of the relationship' This implies that women cannot be strong and empowered and feminine at the same time. Before Maki was burned, she was quite feminine presenting, we see her in skirts, legwarmers and with long hair. This is before her awakening, so she was weaker. After she is burned, she starts wearing trousers, showing her arms and has shorter hair. As Maki became less feminine-coded, some male fans appeared to respond more positively to her character. It’s positive that male viewers admire strong female characters, but admiration should not depend on those characters adopting traditionally masculine traits. There is nothing wrong with Maki being more masculine on its own, but its something that's happened with Megumi too.

In season one, Megumi is a very feminine presenting man, notably, he has very long eyelashes. In the latest season, as hes becoming more powerful, hes no longer animated with his eyelashes. This repeated shift from feminine to masculine presentation as characters gain power can reinforce the stereotype of 'woman weak, man strong'  Megumi often gets called a 'potential man' by fans, which implies that because Megumi is more feminine and weaker than he could be, hes not a 'real man'  Yuta also gets slandered for a similar reason, because he relies on Rika (a girl) to protect him, hes 'a bum'  He also presents more feminine qualities. There is a common theme that femininity means weakness.

JJK also attempts to spoonfeed feminism to teenage boys, through Nobara, Maki and Yuki, they show strong female characters. Another way they do this is through male characters. Todo for example, has an obsession with an idol, Takada. His qualities here are very similar to teenage fangirling. Through this, it tells its male audience that the female audience is chill (like nonchalant Todo) Todo also never questions anyones masculinity, and hes also never homophobic, presented through his scene asking Megumi his type, where Todo assures Megumi that its okay if he likes guys. Megumis response to this is also a model answer young boys could look up to, listing emotional qualities rather than physical attributes.

Yuji answers with his type 'tall women with a nice big ass' This makes Yuji relatable to his male audience, but it doesnt affect how he sees women. Yuji is very respectful of women around him. Not only that, but he himself shows feminine qualities, Traits like compassion and cooperation are often culturally associated with Yin—the receptive or nurturing side of the Yin-Yang balance. Yuji has a fairly small ego, and open body language. All of these make Yuji an ideal role model for teenage boys. JJK excels at showing healthy masculinity in an easily digestible and appealing way.

Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed!! pls feel free to disagree but also pls be respectful, interact if you liked it!!

At the beginning of season one, the show quickly establishes the rigid beauty standards of the time and how it influences the experiences of the cast. A prime example of this is what puts Maomao at the forefront of the rear palace drama — the poisonous powder. This toxic substance was used by both Concubine Gyokuyou and Concubine Lihua in an effort to create a perfect picture of beauty, pale smooth skin, as was the standard at the time and even now in modern-day China. The use of a cosmetic product to reduce a mother and child to such a state represents the suffocating pressure to maintain beauty at any cost. Lady Gyokuyou, after our heroine informs her of the blight, immediately ceases use; however, Lady Lihua, who lost her son due to the powder, keeps using it, despite the fact she is extremely ill. Her ladies in waiting refuse to throw it out, going so far as to hide the toxin so she can keep using it. This represents how, in spite of her devastating loss, she is expected to remain composed and quintessential. Unfortunately for the concubines in the rear palace, beauty is their greatest asset, and for Lady Lihua to lose that would be to lose everything.

Maomao herself states that she's seen it before, in the brothels, where women “trade life for beauty”. Again, she highlights that no matter your societal rank, a woman's appearance changes how people perceive her. In Maomao's case, she uses beauty to her advantage in the opposite manner. Maomao paints freckles onto her face, an ‘ugly feature’ in ancient China, due to their association with the working class. She does so to avoid attention so she can live a peaceful life, and it is only when her freckles wear off that her life is upheaved. Her kidnappers believed she could fetch a good price. This showcases the correlation between beauty and perception. This relationship goes both ways. Not only are more beautiful women valued for that attribute, but also women are harming themselves to stay that way. Maomao also acknowledges that being invisible is a form of protection, and she purposefully changes her face to become unremarkable.

In ancient Chinese society, a woman's physical appearance can change her social status, and the case isn't much different today. The show may be suggesting here that femininity is more about external presentation rather than personal identity, inner wellbeing, and the autonomy to experience life unrestrained. One character who uses this idea to explore as she pleases is Loulan, who uses mixed trends and styles to deceive everyone and live a double life. Or the Madam of Verdigris House, who used her striking appearance to gain power through the courtesan system. So many characters are forced to act within their means to gain the upper hand, some prevailing and others not so lucky, but it's this show of resilience which makes the female cast so special.

Throughout the show, Maomao uses her past experiences in the brothel to compare with life in the rear palace. One great example of this would be Maomao's own parents. Her mother (Fengxian) was a star courtesan at Verdigris House, and after beating him in a game of Go, Commander Lakan quickly falls in love. At this time, he was too poor to buy her out, so they concoct a plan: he gets her pregnant, which will decrease her value to practically zero, and he will then buy her out. When he is sent away to study abroad, the plan falls through. After giving birth, she has to resort to taking any client because she has no worth. This results in her contracting syphilis, and ultimately it takes her sanity and her autonomy away. This tragedy arises directly from the system which commodifies female bodies. Her downfall is a underscores the idea that a woman's physical worth is directly connected to male perception and sexual demand.

In the red light district, pregnancy destroys a woman's monetary value. In contrast, in the Rear Palace, a woman's entire survival depends on fertility. To bear a son is to secure status; to fail is to risk erasure. Ah-duo lost her uterus during her first birth due to medical neglect and, as a result, lost her fertility. In the end, Ah-duo was removed from the Rear Palace at no fault of her own, simply because her body had no value. The show presents to the viewer the idea that in society, a woman's worth can diminish at any point based on male perception of her use – whether that be through her reproductive abilities or the destruction that pregnancy puts the female body through, deteriorating her value as a sex symbol.

Another way that women are presented in the Apothecary Diaries is through floral symbolism; women like Ah Duo and Fengxian are seen as wilted flowers, women who were once beautiful and revered but have since lost their societal value. However, flowers can also be seen as a way The Apothecary Diaries shows women as multifaceted. This relates to the issue of women in lots of contemporary feminist media portraying one-dimensional characters, where empowerment is often simplified into flawlessness. Taking Lihua, for example, her name means 'pear blossom', which is in Chinese culture a representation for beauty. These seemingly innocent flowers have a double meaning; they also represent fragility in Chinese literature. The flowers are famous for falling fast. This parallels Lady Li Hua's relationship and how her desire to be beautiful is what nearly kills her. Fengxian is represented by balsam, an explosive flower associated with beauty, used to paint the fingernails red. Historically, the plant is used to treat skin conditions, an ode to the damage on her skin post-illness. In general, the floral symbolism enriches each character, revealing their complexity beneath outward presentation. In a society which historically expected women to be subservient and silent, giving them such diversified personalities is actually a great way of opposing the patriarchy. The flowers in the show don't only symbolise beauty and defiance but also impermanence, just like the women of the Rear Palace and in the red light district.

Our main character Maomao is represented by wood sorrel. It has a sour flavour, just like Maomao can be perceived as standoffish or sharp. The plant also has connotations of self-preservation, symbolising how Maomao focuses on keeping under the radar; she just wants to make it home alive. Wood sorrel is also a common plant, perhaps representing her humble origins; it's a weed, growing in tough conditions and neglected areas. This can be read as a reflection of how Maomao can thrive hostile environments due to her self-awareness, kindness and tenacity. One event showing her resilience was running over a kilometre to save a stranger, this behaviour contrasts her detached persona, showing her compassion and determination to help others behind her pragmatism. This is what makes Maomao such an excellent feminist character, because she has flaws and she works within the system to achieve her means, which is to live peacefully and help where she can. By refusing to frame Maomao as a revolutionary figure seeking systematic change, the series suggests that rebellion within oppressive systems can be quiet, personal and strategic. This is represented by Lakan likening her to that hardy plant.

One sentiment Maomao repeats is that some flowers are poisonous; taking into consideration the comparison of women and flowers through the show, Maomao could be implying here that women shouldn't be judged by their sexuality or looks, but rather their character. Many characters in the show reinforce this; Lady Lihua appears stuck up and prideful, but in truth, she is caring and elegant. Lady Gyokuyou is at first simply kind and courteous, but she is really very intelligent and meticulous in creating this image. Lady Lishu comes across as snobbish, but she is really a scared and sheltered child. Lady Ah-Duo strikes as graceful and refined, but at heart, she can be rather tomboyish. The Apothecary Diaries really hammers home the idea that a woman's appearance doesn't tell you her true nature.

This prejudice affects the men too, more specifically Jinshi; out of all the male characters, Jinshi can probably relate to the women the most. He is described as a celestial beauty; flowers bloom where this man walks. He chooses - like many of the ladies in the show - to use this to his advantage. He actively charms and manipulates people to do his bidding with a heavenly smile, allowing him to bypass the rigid structure of the palace. However, his looks also create issues for him. Jinshi embodies the paradox of beauty as a privilege and a burden. He is subjected to lots of harassment and inappropriate attention from both men and women. As a result of this, people also often overlook his competence and intelligence, viewing him as just a pretty face, leading to deep-seated insecurities and his strong desire to prove his worth beyond his appearance. Jinshi becomes a compelling example of the benefits and drawbacks of feminine beauty. Despite his gender, he can use it as a social currency but also face many barriers because of it.

Now, even though Jinshi is also a victim of the patriarchy, he upholds it unknowingly. The Rear Palace, which he manages, creates a culture of institutionalised objectification for women. The Rear Palace houses thousands of women and Jinshi, while empathetic, is inadvertently complicit just by managing the palace. Women are a commodity; the rear palace quite literally buys them in to work there. This creates demand, and as a result, women are kidnapped, just like Maomao. When Jinshi learns of this, he is distraught. He doesn't realise that this even happened, a representation of how men often remain ignorant in situations surrounding violence against women - Jinshi isn't personally malicious, but he's structurally complicit. Men in the show see women being treated as lesser, and even if they disagree, they cannot do anything. Often they don't realise until it happens to a loved one, and then they place blame solely on the perpetrator rather than the system that caused it, whereas women are typically more aware of the violence and thus will actively try to avoid it and immediately understand the motive to escape it. The show never villainises men for this ignorance; it is not their fault, but it handles the subject with nuance. It doesn't lecture the viewer on the patriarchy, it follows a show-not-tell structure in this sense.

Another thing about the show is that men and women may have the same goal, but the means to achieve it is different. For example, Lihaku and Pairin. Lihaku is in love with her; he decides he wants to be with her, and his path is simple: get enough money to buy her out. Granted, that's a difficult task, but achievable if he works hard. Whereas a woman, Fuyou, who is in love must go through more gruelling, humiliating means to be with the man she loves. She purposefully failed when dancing for the emperor, disgracing herself, and then faked insanity so he would never touch her, allowing her to remain pure for her childhood sweetheart, a military officer. Fuyou and Lihaku both pursue love, but the structural barriers they face differ greatly. Lihaku's path, though challenging, is linear: earn the money and set Pairin free. Fuyou's path requires self-humiliation, deception and a performance of madness which could have her executed. Also, the emphasis on Fuyou's chastity for her lover is symbolic again of the value placed upon women's bodies. Women in the show long for freedom; oftentimes they cannot seek it. A woman's desires to love, have meaningful friendships, have security, or pursue her passion are always second to those of a man, and she must find an alternative route to achieve this.

Overall, The Apothecary Diaries presents women as dynamic, exciting characters and traverses varying ideas around a woman's value, her beauty and her character. Its women are neither flawless nor revolutionary, but instead profoundly human. The series presents feminism uniquely, not as a rebellion, but as survival, intelligence and resistance. While the show explores ideas of sexism and violence against women, it never leans to misandry, instead discussing how the system also acts to the detriment of men and also how men can unknowingly uphold the patriarchy.  Ultimately, The Apothecary Diaries considers multiple aspects of feminism and challenges the patriarchal society with nuance and delicacy.

"No."

"Lying is unbecoming."

"Complaining is unbecoming."

"regardless...here we are"

Uraume’s expression did not change even slightly to the point you were beginning to suspect if they've never experienced emotion in their entire life.

across the room, the faint scratch of ink against paper paused briefly as Sukuna glanced up from where he sat, surrounded by military reports, one arm resting lazily against the table beside him.

four crimson eyes settled on your handwriting.

"…Your brushwork is refined," he remarked casually

You froze for half a second before forcing yourself to continue writing

-"Scribes are expected to write properly."

"Hm."

he made that sound again. it sounds so..confusing? you have no idea what he's trying to imply and resorted to assuming the worst .sukuna rose up from his seat slowly, the wooden floors creaking softly beneath his weight as he approached you

you tried not to look nervous ,can't this guy just mind his damn business liike??

but unfortunately, your body seemed to betray you as He stopped right beside you.

maybe Far too close...

"Not like this," he said.

Your grip on the brush tightened slighly whilst his gaze lingered briefly over the neat strokes of ink, before shifting lazily toward your face.

"Where were you educated?"

your breath caught slightly, omg so nosy for what.

"…Nowhere particularly interesting."

"Mm." Sukuna crouched slightly beside the table, expression unreadable. "That answer sounded rehearsed."

You immediately looked offended.

"ok but it wasnt rehearsed..?"

"It was bad, then."

your eye twitched, oh how you missed geto for a moment, you even missed his annoying worried nagging. these people were working you to the bone no breaks nada ,if only uraume would bring a snack of somesor-Uraume quietly placed down another stack of scrolls.

you just stared at it in disbelief.

"…There’s more?"

"There is always more."

"This is a punishment"

"Yes."

I mean atleast they were honest..

"to be honest i thought you were raised during a famine or something" sukuna randomly started..

you blinked slowly,pursing your lips together,well perhaps a little too honest.

"..pardon me?"

"you're small and thin with no facial hair.." his gaze lingered lazily "you barely resemble a man"

....

uraume simply continued organizing the place,pretending not to listen as an awkward silence filled the room

"No women look your way, I assume," Sukuna mused lazily "i guess they'd simply avoid you"

your brush nearly snapped in half.

did this fatass just say you have no game??

does he know that you're the game in question??

you decided to just ignore him entirely,saying something would most likely-definitely get you beheaded.

sukuna just watched your reaction,wierdly intrigued-then he just closed two of his eyes briefly,slightly smirking to himslef. what a strange guy.

......

By the time you finally escaped Sukuna’s quarters, the sun had already begun sinking low beyond the palace walls

the hallways were quieter during sunset. servants moved slower, conversations softer beneath the dim orange glow spilling through the wooden corridors.

For once, nobody was shoving military reports into your hands.

finally,some peace.

You massaged your poor aching hand that had to endure all that paperwork,as you lazily strolled the hallways.At this point, even your soul ached.

You let out a long breath as your footsteps slowed slightly. maybe if you were lucky, Uraume wouldn’t find you for another hour,a dangerous amount of hope, honestly.

as you turned another corner, faint voices drifted through the hallway ahead.

"…I heard he survived."

your steps slowed instinctively, eavesdropping in on the gossip

"Barely"

"Apparently she stabbed him so bad he still can’t move one of his arms properly."

"tch. serves him right"

"hey-Careful saying things like that"

your stomach dropped, the warmth drained from your body so fast it almost made you dizzy. for a moment ,you felt the once cozy hallway blurring slightly around the edges.

He survived.

Not only survived-you had injured him,badly.

your aching fingers curled tightly against your sleeves tightly as uneasiness crawled beneath your skin.

A deep wound could heal, but pride did not.

and men like him never forgot humiliation.

especially not humiliation caused by someone they once believed powerless

If he remembered your face- No.

If he recognized your voice-

He would destroy you-Not quickly, either.

you forced yourself to breathe normally.

Think.

please calm down, besides-nobody here knew.

Nobody could know.

"…Though," one of them whispered suddenly, "I heard the concubine disappeared completely."

"i guess she escaped"

"That’s impossible."

"she had help, apparently"

you felt your test tighten briefly for a moment-your brother, he never told you if helping you dissapear caused problems for him afterwards.he just...smiled and told you to survive

"…You know," another servant murmured thoughtfully, "that new scribe looks vaguely familiar."

you felt your heartbeat stop, or rather speed up

"Him?" someone scoffed immediately. "You think too much."

"No, seriously, like around the eyes-"

you turned around the corner before they could finish, quietly continuing forward, lowering your head immediately as the servants passed by,subtly picking up your pace,not too fast-too fast would attract attention

but your pace still quickened anyway

A laugh echoed somewhere down the corridor.

a low,disgustingly familiar ugly laugh

your entire body went cold,throat going dry and whole body feeling numb with discomfort.

forgot to mention in the beginning but reader is lwk androgynous thts why sukuna though she was a woman at first

You jolted awake, eyes snapping open as strands of hair clung to the damp of your nape.

For one horrible second, your fingers scrambled desperately beneath your pillow for the hidden hairpin before reality slowly settled back into place

Aggressive knocking rattled the door to your room.

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

"If you do not wake up immediately, I will remove the door."

Uraume’s cold voice called from outside as you stared blankly at the wall for several long seconds, trying to steady your breathing.

Right right its just uraume..

Oh.

It is uraume.

Somehow, that wasn’t much better.

Being assigned to Sukuna’s quarters, apparently, also meant losing the right to sleep peacefully.

Another violent knock shook the room.

"You have until I count to three."

You dragged a hand down your face wearily, letting out a tired sigh

".. I’m awake," you called hoarsely, voice sounding "man-like" enough, still rough from sleep.

"You sound awful."

You ruffle around, getting up from your futon

"What a kind thing to say before sunrise."

Silence lingered outside the door for a moment as you prepared yourself.

Then..

"You have an unfortunate personality."

You frowned at the door, kinda offended.

And somehow, despite everything, that was still preferable to being chased through bloodstained palace corridors again.

By the time you finished getting dressed, your throat already felt raw from faking your deep voice for too long.

You swallowed the herbal pill with visible disgust, as you step out.

"Why does this taste like crushed tree bark?"

"Because it is crushed tree bark," Uraume replied flatly with a bored expression

"…Right Of course"

"You have been summoned,"Uraume said as the two of you walked through the palace halls.

You frowned "well that sounds unnecessarily threatening"

"It is."

"…Comforting."

"I do not comfort people."

"Yes, I noticed."

...

"Lord Sukuna has prepared several tasks for you"

Your face instantly dropped, as if you weren't already unhappy enough.

"Several?"

"Yes."

"At sunrise?"

"Yes."

"…Does he not sleep?"

Uraume glanced at you apathetically

"tsk. Can you not? "

You stared at them, sighing.

The closer you got to Sukuna’s quarters, the quieter the palace became. servants lowered their heads Immidiately, Guards stiffened-probably seeing uraume. Even the air itself felt tenser and you really hated this.

Uraume slid the door open and the room was huge,

Annoyingly huge.

Scrolls, maps, weapons, unfinished reports, as if every available surface was covered. And seated carelessly in the middle of the chaos was Sukuna himslef. looking way too relaxed and bored for someone responsible for several nations living in fear

Four crimson eyes lifted toward you lazily, you immediately felt irritated.

"... " you cleared your throat. His expression was so unreadable, what is he even thinking off??

" how may i assist you.. " you say in a very apathetic tone.

Uraume stepped aside silently, betraying you to your fate

Sukuna rested his chin against one hand

"hm.. That hardly sounds enthusiastic. You greet your superiors like this?" he mused, "you seem determined to get on my bad side"

GODD this guy's condescending as fuckk

"...For someone so feared you complain surprisingly often." - you shot back before thinking twice.

The room went silent.

Completely silent.

You felt your soul begin leaving your body.

Uraume genuinly hit the speed face trying not to laugh.

"Oh," they said quietly. "You are going to die."

Ugshsh I love forced proximity😛😛comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

....

it all started when he spotted you by the water dispenser after one of his classes as he was walking with suguru,his best friend.

gojo pointed at you like an excited puppy,whispering to his friend " dude she looks like the female version of you, you guys dress the sammee"

geto glances at her,then back to gojo-smirking.

wanna find out if she acts like me too? i bet you 20 bucks you'll get rejected.

gojo scoffs, "well ya better handover that 20 bucks already" he says as he approaches you, running a hand through his snowy locks.

You had studded jeans on,jwellery softly clattering as you closed your waterbottle.

he grins,hands in his pockets ,smoothly falling into step beside you .this had a 100% success rate back home.

"hey i'm gojo,i dont think we've met ye-"

and you walks right past him,not even looking at his face.

...

and here we are now,gojo left with his brain short circuiting.geto already left a second ago as he was called by his band members.

Did you just... ignore him? On purpose? Was that allowed?

A guy passing by gave him a sympathetic look "Rough, dude."

Gojo stood there for a full thirty seconds, experiencing his first taste of romantic failure. It tasted like confusion and wounded pride.

....ew whats this feeling in his chest now...strangely but surely it didn't feel like embaressment. rather, a flutter.

He cared what you thought immediately.

he pulled out his phone to text suguru about this,typing and deleting messages.

No. He couldn't ask anyone about this. He was Gojo Satoru. He didn't need help talking to girls.

But apparently, he did.

He keeps getting completley ignored by you everytime he tries to approach you. Once he even bumped into you and yet all you did was mutters " 'm sorry" without even looking up at his face from her phone.

And that's officially how his obsession started.

...

one of the things he discovered about social media was that tiktok had the answers for almost everything-and that practically fixes evrything. obviously-he wasnt after some lousy 20 bucks,rather

his wounded pride.

which was gonna be absolutly easy once he followed the little list he made in his phone from all the research.

+buy black clothes

+listen to sad/(screaming..?) music

+eyeliner(for guys????)

+say things like "you wouldn't understand my pain"

+Chains and spiky things

+Memorise band names :my chemical romance, pierce the veil, sleeping with sirens.

+Don't smile too much, mew to look mysterious.

...

One hour later, Gojo was still in his dorm room, door locked and curtains drawn,

His fyp was just full of alt thirsttraps and makeup tuts by now.

He was watching a tutorial of someone doing eye makeup with heavy black eye shadow

"Okay," he muttered to himself. "I can do this."

He couldn't do this.

But he went scouting at hot topic, picking out a better eyeliner, and a hoodie that spelled "DEAD INSIDE" along with some chokers and accecories.

This is fine, he thought, watching a video of someone explaining the difference between scene, emo, and goth. This is all baisically the same thing. She'll be so impressed.

You would not be impressed.

...

Two days later, Gojo spotted you again.

He'd spent about thirty-five minutes on his eyeliner that morning (it was uneven, but he told himself it was opinions based) wore his new hoodie, and was listening to My Chemical Romance on repeat so he could "lock into character "

He approached you in the campus coffee shop, where you were sitting alone with your laptop, and thank god - no earphones this time.

"Hey," he said, voice lower than usual, trying to sound mysterious.

You looked up and Blinked at him

Up close, Gojo realized you were even prettier than he'd thought.

When you finally looked back at him, he saw how sharp and dreamy your eyes looked.

"...Hi?" you said slowly.

And that's when he saw the lustre of the soft silvery metal peeking out from your mouth, a tongue piercing - which he found unreasonably attractive

"I'm Gojo." He leaned against your table,trying to be casual. "I saw you the other day but You were listening to music."

"uhh.. Okay?"

"I like music too."

right right like that's an extreamly rare feat-real smooth satoru.

"Dark, Sad music y'know Music about... pain."

Your eyes squinted slightly, eyebrow playfully knitting together. "Are you... okay?"

"I'm dead inside," he said, gesturing to his hoodie.

..

There was a long pause

..

"Do you need, like... the counseling center's number?" you asked, genuinely concerned. "i guess they have walk in hours on monday..."

"No, I mean-" Gojo scrambled. "It's a vibe like an aesthetic. I'm emo."

Right right..

"Oh." She looked him up and down, taking in his designer jeans, his pristine white sneakers, the way his eyeliner was smudged in a funky way. I mean, atleast he mogged johnnie guilbert in that fit..

"That's... cool."

Oh wowowow she thinks it's cool, he thought triumphantly, the shift in his expression clearly readable on his face

"You're kind of cute.. In some typa way" you added, almost to yourself, sliding your earphones in.

Gojo walked away with his dignity in shambles but his heart doing backflips.

Oh my gosh She called me cute.

...

"Dude, what the fuck are you wearing?"

Suguru stared at Gojo like he'd grown a second head. They were in Geto's apartment, which smelled like incense and had band posters covering every wall. Geto himself was wearing a faded Deftones shirt and had his long hair flowing over his coller.

"ever heard of emo?? " Gojo said in a theatrical-defensive way.

"boy that's a Hot Topic clearance rack."

Gojo immediately lost the smugness, his lip softly jutting out in a pout "ugh I need your help"

Geto sat down on his couch, lit a cigarette, gesturing for him to continue. "This should be funny"

Gojo told him everything. The first failed attepmt(and the rest) , The tiktok research, and the "dead inside" hoodie.( Also emphasizing about the time you called him wierdly cute)

By the end, Geto was almost crying with laughter "duude-" he wheezed, "you're doing all this for 20 bucks?" "it's okay my guy I'll just give it to you"

"you dont understand, its not about the bet anymore, I've never felt like this. I'm desperate, Suguru."

"Clearly." Geto wiped his eyes. "Okay, first of all, emo and alt aren't the same thing. Second, you can't just "become" emo. It's not a costume."

"Then what do I do?"

Geto took a long drag. "You be yourself, idiot."

"Myself got ignored :-{"

"Oh right"

Gojo paused. "...What?"

"The first time you talked to her. I guarantee you she didn't hear you.she had headphone on-that's why I even placed the bet"

The realization hit Gojo like a truck. "Oh my god."

"Yeah." Geto stubbed out his cigarette. "But since you've already dug this hole, let me help you climb out. What's her name?"

"I... don't know."

"well thats wonderful"

...

Geto's plan was simple: "Just talk to her about music, Actual music." I'll give you some bands to listen to, and you can bond over that."

But Gojo's execution of this plan was not so simple

He found you in the campus library, took a deep breath, and sat down across from you.

"Hey," he started

You looked up, recognized him, and smiled slightly. "supp, you're the dead inside guy right?

"I wanted to apologize for being weird the other day." He rubbed the back of his neck, rosiness dusting over his Ears and cheeks "I've been going through some stuff. Listening to a lot of Deftones and all lately. Really helps with the uhh y'know existential dread and all that"

Your expression shifted to intrigue. "You like Deftones?"

"Yeah," Gojo said, confidence growing. "I really like Change In the House of Flies. The way Chino screams about um... flies..., houses...and stuff"

"ooo What's your favorite album?"

Gojo's mind went blank.Geto had only made him listen to three songs in total.

"The... White Pony?" he tried

"hmm yeah not bad" you leaned forward slightly "What do you think about Around the Fur?"

"It's very... furry?"

You were caught a little off guard by that

"I mean like-the sound is furry y'know Raw and Textured." He was yapping whatever at this point "Like fur."

"mhmm" you pulled out your phone,looking at the spotify gojo gave you "What about Sleeping With Sirens? I saw you had them on your Spotify."

Gojo didn't have Spotify. He had Apple Music, that was geto's playlist. And he'd listened to exactly one Sleeping With Sirens song

"If You Can't Hang just gets me" he said, when be dosent even remember the lyrics. saying it only because it was the one title he remembered.

"Really? That's interesting because-"

"I RELATE TO THE LYRICS SO MUCH," Gojo said loudly. "ABOUT... UM HANGING... AND NOT BEING ABLE TO DO IT."

Several people in the library turned to stare as you looked at him with a mix of concern and confusion "hey are you-"

"The part where he sings about-" Gojo's voice cracked slightly as he tried to remember literally any lyric. "-the feelings and the... emotional... content..."

...

"You've never actually listened to these bands, have you?"

...

"I-"

"You Googled 'emo bands' and picked the first results."

......

"Your aaple music was open on your phone," you say gently, turning his screen toward him. It showed his actual playlist: a crazy mix of Top 40 anime openings.

Well it wasnt a joke anymore-gojo really wnated to end everything.

"That's... my roommate's account," he tried weakly.

"Gojo."

"Okay fine!" He slumped in his chair, lips jutting out in that cute little pout "I don't know anything about emo music or alt Or any of this. I just-you ignored me that first day and I tried so hard to get noticed but it didnt work, i thought you were rejecting me, so I tried to become someone you'd like, but I'm clearly terrible at it and now you think I'm a creepy liar and-"

"I was probobly wearing earphones.." you interrupted.

"What?"

"The first day-I didn't ignore you. I literally didn't hear you." you were trying not to laugh now "I was listening to nirvana at max volume"

Gojo's brain rebooted. "So you... didn't reject me?"

"I didn't even know you existed until you showed up in that Hot Topic hoodie."

"Geto said the same thing about Hot Topic," Gojo muttered.

You were fully grinning now. "You did all this... because you thought I rejected you?"

"I've never been rejected before," he admitted shyly, looking down "I panicked."

"That's honestly kind of cute." you closed your laptop. "In a completely unhinged way."

"I'm really sorry. I know I was being weird and creepy and-"

"You were being weird," you agreed. "But not creepy. More like...uhh a golden retriever trying to be a wolf."

Was that a compliment or a diss?

"For what it's worth," you continued, "I did think you were cute,Even with the terrible eyeliner."

"It took me liiike 35 minutes"

"I could tell." you say giggling lightly

You both got coffee after that,actual coffee, where Gojo didn't pretend to like it black and actually ordered his usual caramel macchiato with extra whipped cream.

"So you were sheltered growing up?" you asked as were stirring your drink.

Gojo sighs softly "Only Child, Controlling parents. This is my first time really being... free, I guess." He smiled sheepishly. "I'm still figuring out how to be a person."

"Same, actually." you looked surprised. "My parents barely let me leave the house. Coming here for college was huge."

"Really? You seem so... confident."

"It's the eyeliner maybe" you giggle softly "Makes everyone think you have your life together." "I'm just as clueless as you but I just hide it better."

Gojo laughed, and it felt genuine for the first time in days. "So... do you want to maybe teach me about like all that? So maybe i can be confident too?" "I promise I'll stop pretending to be emo."

You grin "only if you promised to keep that 'dead inside hoodie' its grown on me now"

"Deal."

You took out your phone. Okkay so lets fix your playlist

"Heyy you havent even heard the naruto opening, its so good-"

"We'll make a compromise playlist." you were already typing. "Some of my stuff, some of yours. That's how this works."

"This?"

You looked up at him, who had his blue eyes sparkling bright. "Dating, Gojo. I'm saying we should try dating"

For the second time that week, Gojo's brain felt like it was melting, like literally-But this time, it was in the best way possible.

"Yeah," he manage to say, his pale face getting more scarlet by the second "I'd really like that."

"Cool." you added a song to their new shared playlist. "But please dont try quoting random songs again without actually knowing them"

"Noted..."

...

"WAIT DOES THIS MEAN WE'RE BOYFRIEND AND GIRLFRIEND?!" gojo accidentlly got loud feeling excited, gaining the attention of evryone at the study hall.

Three months later, Gojo could actually name five Deftones songs, retired the "dead inside" hoodie (but you wore it now) and stopped trying to be someone who he wasnt.

He still wanted to play around with the eyeliner tho-luckily you were nothing like the cold nonchalant girl he'd imagined, he'd try doing makeup on your pretty face as you both giggled at his ass skills

Geto said they were both disasters and that he was never helping Gojo with girl problems again, even though he was your biggest shipper.

Inspired by gojo falling for my nonchalant alt mii in tomodachi life lol.

Im still working on the main series il post more chapters tmrw