gingerteawrites

[gingerteawrites]

my Shaylaaaa😭😭

If only Gege didn't hate his life😔

teen nanacrumbs i never thought i'd witness

[gingerteawrites]

BY THE HEARTH: PLAN

A/N: When I tell y'all this chapter was HARD to write... After finally being free, I am now fighting some insane writer's block. Can't even catch a break out here. I hope everyone is staying safe with everything going on in the world, and that you enjoy reading. Kisses <3

Read previous part here.

Content: Royalty!AU, Nanami x female reader, king Nanami, Princess Y/N, Widower Nanami, Toddler Yuuji, hurt, angst. Not beta read

Word count: ~3.5K words

Warning: mentions of suicide.

Banner by: @cafekitsune

ACT XV

The horse ride to the small town that bordered the Zenin castle had been many things; Fast, rough and absolutely nervewracking.

Nanami was quickly learning that being abruptly taken away from his wife and son took top spot as his least favorite thing ever.

When Haibara had pulled the king aside in the crowded ballroom and whispered about urgent business, he had felt his blood pressure immediately spike. The anxiety from being separated gnawed at his consciousness and unfortunately for him, his already-fatigued mind struggled to push away the swarming thoughts.

This needed to be done quickly. Or he feared that it would not be long before the king acted in a manner not quite befitting of the title.

"The rest of the royal knights are with them," Haibara muttered as he tied their horses to a tree on the outskirts of town. "Plus the maids, they'll be alright."

The knight's attempts at reassuring fell on deaf ears and mute lips. The king simply followed behind, not at all enthused by the prospect of conversation.

Pockets heavy with the royal crest that used to adorn their attire and now covered in cloaks, the two men entered a large tavern. Its ambiance livened the dark night, so starkly different from the refined air of aristocratic gatherings.

Blending in was even easier than the knight had thought —especially when the haze of alcohol muddled minds and dulled the senses of everyone around.

Haibara —seemingly undisturbed by the shouts for more ale and off-tune singing— slipped through people with practiced ease. Nanami on the other hand, followed a little more clumsily, not paying mind to the couple drunkards who grumbled with offense when he breezed past them. The pair arrived at the bar and quickly scanned the room before turning to the barmaid. The woman approached them with a tired expression.

"What do y'all wanna drink?" She drawled, fixing the two men with a bleak stare.

"Not here for alcohol, miss," Haibara smiled in a way the woman must have thought was charming, given how she leaned in closer.

"Then what can I do for ya, pretty boy?" She cocked her head to the side. Her grim look had turned into a sly smile. Like a bored cheetah noticing new prey.

Haibara leaned in even closer and with his lips almost grazing the shell of her ear, whispered something that sounded like a dirty secret. He pulled away, the easy smile still adorning his face.

However while the woman's back had turned stiff as a board, eyes widened before her expression turned to something guarded. She signaled for them to follow her, leading the pair out of the noisy main room of the tavern. The floorboards creaked with every step up the stairs, and eventually to a well-worn door in a quieter corner of the building.

"Thank you kindly," the knight slipped a gold coin in her hand, which she barely acknowledged before rushing away and vanishing into the shadows of the staircase.

Haibara's knuckles rapped against the door three times. After a moment of silence waiting for someone to open it, the knight turned the knob and pushed inside. The door's wooden frame gave a high-pitched cry as it let the men in.

A single oil lamp sat on a small table, fighting off the surrounding darkness, casting long shadows upon every surface. Shadows that swallowed what little decor adorned the room in their obscurity. The air inside the room was thick, suffocating. The kind of place that muddled even the sharpest man's senses.

Nanami's eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the darkness before he could eventually make out the silhouettes of two figures.

One of them, who stood against the far wall scoffed, raising his head to look at the newcomers. "Ya know, I almost thought y'all wouldn't make it."

Nanami stiffened, recognition flashing in his features. The man pushed away from the wall and stepped closer to the lamp, the light flickering softly against the sharp edges of his face. Dark hair. Mean eyes. Scarred lip.

"Toji Zenin," he muttered, brows furrowing.

"Drop the last name," the man crossed his arms over his chest, a frown pulling at the scar on his lips.

"Watch your tone," Haibara countered, punctuating every word with a warning, gaze stern as he looked at the man before them.

Nanami pulled the hood of the cloak off of his head. "What is the reason for this arrangement, Toji?" he questioned.

His calm had returned, body sensing the importance of being focused in the present moment. In his mind, hundreds of possibilities as to why the dog of the Zenin family had requested a private audience arose. But each sounded more grim than the previous one.

The sound of wood scraping against wood rang into the air as Toji pulled a chair closer to sit. He reclined against it and looked up at the two men with a raised brow.

"Tch... Thought y'all refined folks were smarter than this. Baffles me how you manage to run a country," he spat, insolence dripping from his words.

“I said watch your tone, Zenin!” Haibara took a step forward, hand resting on the hilt of a dagger anchored to his belt.

Nanami raised a hand to placate the knight. He understood Haibara's agitation. They were in a dangerous position, especially with the other person in the room, whom they still had not identified. This one stayed concealed in the shadows, smaller, but their aura not any less menacing.

The king pulled another nearby chair, moving to sit across from Toji. The man would not have gone through the trouble of contacting them with no intention to talk.

"I know this is about the conflict in the South," the king's words were measured, assessing the man's reaction. Toji's faced betrayed nothing but stern stoicism. "What is your connection to all of it?" he interrogated, voice firm.

"Now we're talking," Toji smirked, leaning closer, he rested his arms on his knees and used it to support his head. "Naoya. The fucker is up to no good. He's been working way too hard recently, haven't ya noticed?" He raised a brow. "That lazy son-of-a-bitch is tryna to gather as much power as he can. And we both know that means nothing good."

Nanami tried his hardest to school his features, but could not stop his jaw from tightening. Strained with the weight of unspoken words.

Could Naoya be behind the unrest? He had been making considerable investments throughout the kingdom. But upon inquiry, the Zenins had justified it as a mere attempt to recoup some money lost from the previous Duke's reckless spending.

The king had not pushed any further. Maybe he should have. The sting of regret burned Nanami's skin. He had been too lenient a king.

More importantly he had left his wife and child in the one place within the potential foe's reach. That anxious voice in his mind —which had calmed if only for a few moments— roared once again. Agitation built in the king's limbs.

But instead of succombing to his fears, he refocused his attention on the man sitting across from him. He needed confirmation first.

"That is a grave accusation you are making," he breathed, his posture firm as he voice drew cold. "I trust you have proof of your claims."

Toji scoffed, sitting up once again. "Wouldn't have wasted my time with this if I didn't," he waved at the other person who was still cloaked in obscurity. A green-haired girl —probably not past her teenage years but with eyes almost as mean as the man she worked with— stepped towards the light and handed him a thick folder before returning to the shadows.

Toji dropped the document on the table, then looked up at Nanami. "Now ya could waste time continuing to interrogate me," he cocked his head to the side, defiance in his brow. "Or come up with a way to deal with Naoya before he does something that would actually hurt ya. And knowing that fool, it's only a matter of time before that twisted mind of his comes up with somethin'."

Deep in the pit of his stomach, Nanami knew. Toji could have ulterior motives in exposing all of this to him now, but something was for certain.

He's telling the truth.

The realization sunk deep in Nanami's bones, and he sprung up from his seat. Haibara, who had stood by the door moved to grab the pile of documents and turned to the king.

"Haibara. We're leaving. Now," he now had no way of silencing the thought that screamed at him to return to his family. He was failing again. Not just at being a good father, but also a good husband. Who was he if he could not keep you safe?

"Your majesty," the head knight hesitated, the full understanding of what had transpired dawning over him. "We need a plan first," he whispered at him. "The entirety of high society is still at the castle. We need to be careful."

Nanami breathed in deeply through his nose. The voices not the slightest bit quieter. Every muscle in body tensed. But he knew his friend was right, as always. He turned his head to find Toji now standing with his arms crossed.

"Given your eagerness to share this information with me, I expect you have thought of ways to help," his tone was sharp, cold as he eyed the man whose lips pulled in a smirk.

"Expected as much," Toji beckoned the mysterious girl over again, his eyes alight with a new glint. This was a man who enjoyed being in the heat of action. Everything about his body language betrayed that fact. "But ya should know... I don't do any work for free," he emphasized. Something broke through his indifferent mask, a brief sense of gravity flashing behind his emerald eyes.

"Name your price."

"So why is it that I shouldn't to kill the brat again?" Naoya rubbed at his forehead, closing his eyes with a groan.

His irritation with the old Count mounted with every passing moment. The latter had not ceased his ramblings since he knocked the kids out. It was hours later now, the morning sun about to rise over the horizon and he still went on.

"We cannot act rashly, your grace! This is a unique opportunity to finally take this kingdom. The prince is a precious asset." Kamo rushed, stepping closer to Naoya, who slouched against a loveseat.

Naoya shook his head, patience running thin. "That's exactly why killing him and dumping his body somewhere is the right thing to do! I weaken the royal lineage. Create uncertainty in the kingdom," he cocked his head up at the Count, the certainty in his features flaunting his belief of flawless logic.

"But the king is now remarried. That wench of his could just give him another heir. Who is to say she's not already with child?" Kamo reasoned, softening his grouchy voice in a feeble attempt at pacifying the duke.

"What you need to do is use the child as bait," he placed his hands in front of him, gesturing as if taken by the greatness of his own plan. "Lure the king in, force him to abdicate. That legitimizes your claim to the throne. After that," Kamo placed his hands down, lips pulled wide in a sinister smile. "You can do whatever you see fit of him and his family."

The sinister smile was mirrored by the duke, finally hearing something he liked. Sure, an adbication would cause outrage within at least part the aristocracy and some level of unrest in the nation. But he would simply crush them. He could have the legitimate claim to the throne he had almost dreamed of. A dream his forefathers had long given up on.

Weak-minded individuals, the lot of them. For taking centuries of humiliation. Only the strong deserved to win. Only the strong deserved to live.

Stirred on by the positive reaction, Kamo drew closer. "By now he should have realized that his son is missing. We have our bait. All we need to do is lay down the trap."

Naoya stood, feeling energized by the new ideas. "You know what old man, maybe I wasn't entirely wrong to keep you around." He laughed and moved to the door, opening it to summon one of the men who stood guard outside his chambers.

But to his surprise, the small frame of his bethroted stood there. Her very presence turned his mood sour. "What are you doing here?" he spat.

"I-" she stammered —the habit drove him to his wit's ends.

His mother had insisted that he could not keep sleeping with women without at least taking one official wife. He should have never listened when she suggested a docile woman. He thought a quiet and meek one would simply steer away from him. But the one his mother picked ended up being the most infuriating mix of aloof but persistent. Always trying to stick close.

Needy. He hated that in a woman.

"If you can't form a fucking sentence then scram." he stepped closer, hoping to intimidate her into leaving, like usual.

"I j-just," she stood her ground this time, though her eyes fled his. Avoiding his gaze, her eyes fleeted to inside his chambers. They caught the presence of the old man and immediately fell to the ground. Something deep inside told her she was not supposed to see that. "I just wanted to know i-if you wanted to c-come bid the guests farewell today."

Naoya scoffed fully pushing past her to beckon a guard over. "You're not stupid enough to need help with that now, are you?" He turned back to her, rolling his eyes when he noticed her cowering. "I've got much more important to deal with, so leave."

"Hey, hey," Yuuji awoke to his cheeks stinging. Another hit on his already sore flesh made his eyes open wider, but not fully shake the feeling of disorientation. The fuzzy shape in front of him soon morphed into a figure that made him recoil. The man crouching before him frowned.

"Is that how you react to seeing your grandfather? That father of yours should have left your education to me like I suggested in your infancy," Yuuji had not finished planning a retort when he realized a thick cloth sealed his lips, the same way that tight ropes bound his limbs.

Wide-eyed, he quickly looked around the room. It was cloaked in darkness. But he recognized the even dark spikes of Megumi's hair, whose predicament did not seem different from his own. The other child leaned against a stone wall, waering his usual dead-pan expression.

The Count pulled at Yuuji's hair, turning his head to pull the child away from his distraction. The prince winced, wary eyes returning to the old man.

"You know, this could have been so different," he spoke, more to himself than to the Yuuji, "If Kaori had just listened... She was always a stubborn one, that child." he sighed, frustrated. "I knew I should have picked someone else. I gave her everything! And how does she repay me? Rebelling!" Anger seethed through his words, causing his fist to shake and pulling the poor child's hair tighter.

Yuuji whimpered.

"She thought taking her own life would hurt me more than it did her," a scoff escaped the man's lips and tears pricked at Yuuji's eyes. Count Kamo gave him a disdained look and released him, sending the child tumbling back to the ground. "But it doesn't matter now. I will get what I wanted. And from her seat in hell, she will see that her son would have been instrumental to that."

The old man turned to Megumi, who gave him an icy glare. "I frankly do not understand the hate the Duke has for you, bastard child," he spoke before he stood back up and straightened his coat. "But I am sure he will find a way to make you useful."

He opened the door and whispered something to the person standing guard beyond it, letting a stream of rising sunlight filter in from the outside. And with a final look at the children he closed the door, plunging the room back into obscurity.

Yuuji's life was a small price to pay for his success. Kaori had been too weak to be a real Kamo. The Count was not. His family would get more prestige under the Zenins than it ever did under Nanami's reign. And for that, he was willing to do more than kill a child.

You were going positively insane. Stuck in your small room, pacing back and forth. The walls had heard all manners of rambling from your lips while your teeth worried the skin of your fingertips and your thought spiralled. It was almost daybreak and you still had not heard from Kento.

Today being the last day of the retreat, the noble families —at least those who were not too spent from a week of drinking and other indulgences— would soon begin their return back to their estates. If any of them had Yuuji, they could slip through your fingers and take him too far away from your reach. The mere prospect made your heart lurch against the cage of your chest.

A knock sounded at the door to your room and you almost tripped over nothing running to it, praying it was news of your husband's return. Disappointment flooded in when you opened it and revealed Riko, her brows tight with worry.

"Your majesty are you alright? I can hear you pacing from out here. Did anything happen at the party?" her words were rushed but her tone held nothing but sincerity. You locking yourself in your room immediately after your return was not the most reassuring thing ever, you realized.

"Do not worry, Riko," you extended a hand to her shoulder, instinctively trying to pacify her. But perhaps the words were meant for yourself more than her. At this point, you were not entirely sure.

The girl pursed her lips, brows barely easing up but you knew she would not pry any more.

She fished an envelope from inside the pocket of her apron. "Someone slipped this under the do-" she did not have time to finish her sentence before you pried it from in-between her fiingers, examining the rough paper.

"Thank you, Riko. Please go make sure Misato does not need anything." Before the girl could protest you pushed the door shut and made quick work of opening the envelope, hastily tearing off its waxed edges. A sliver of hope filled you again.

Maybe it was a note from Nanami. Directions. A reassuring word. Anything.

But the feeling that filled your heart when you unfolded the piece of paper pooled heavy inside your stomach, flipping it over, filling your mouth with bile. The handwriting was nothing like the neat curves that you knew from your husband’s letters and ledgers. It was rougher. Spelling out words that made red bleed into the edges of your vision.

[I have your son. If you want to see him alive, come to the garden behind the east wing of the castle. If you are not alone, or speak any word of this to anyone, consider him dead.]

Your son's kidnappers were now making demands. Rage bubbled through you, burning past the sadness and anxiety, forcing you to breath in deeper, harsher.

The gall of it all!

You had an inkling that the note was not meant for you, but for your husband. Afterall, nobody but your party should have been aware of his absence from the castle. You balled your fists, scrunching the paper between your fingers.

It was so obvious. They were trying to lure him into a trap, using Yuuji as bait. And you knew that if he had seen this, Kento would have willingly done so. The prospect of them having already hurt the child and now going after the husband had you rummaging through the chest where you kept your clothes and angrily pulling on a simple blouse and breeches.

The kingdom could not afford something happening to its precious king. But with you, it was another story.

You would willingly walk into the trap if that meant having a chance at keeping your family safe. A small voice inside your head whispered that walking straight into the wolf's jaw was unsafe. But you it stood no chance against the screams to protect your family. You tucked a small dagger into your boots and you threw the piece of paper on the ground, yanking the room's door open. Rage radiating off of you in insistent waves.

I am going to get my son.

This family, this kingdom, it was yours too. And there was no way in hell you would sit and be docile while some sought to destroy it.

Whew, there you have it folks. I am excited to announce that this story will be ending in the next three chapters. It has been a fun journey so far! Please let me know what you think of this one in the comment.

Also, shhh...Ignore the fact that Maki should be around the same age as the other kids in this universe.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated (❁´◡`❁)

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[gingerteawrites]

is it possible to make a geto x reader fanfic, but it’s based kind of in olden times ? kind of like early modern era (similar to reign the tv show). And he’s a knight and it’s kind of a forbidden/secret romance ?

A/N: Girl the way I started manically laughing when I read this in the morning. Thank you so much for your request and I hope I did your thoughts justice!🫶🏾🫶🏾

Content: Geto x female reader, slightly suggestive

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Stories of royalty and princesses were a childhood staple. Most little girls dreamed of such a life. Surrounded by wonder and wealth, wielding power and grace.

You sighed. If only they really knew. How sometimes the weight of expectations crushed your lungs. Making some moments feel like you were gasping for air. Merely existing instead of living.

"The princess must marry. It is unacceptable for someone her age to still not be wed!" Usually the high council was content observing you from afar and commenting on your looks. But the words uttered by the Grand Duke had soured all your excitement at finally being let into an important meeting.

You opened your mouth to protest, but a sharp look from your brother, the current king silenced you.

"It is true she is of marrying age. We have made it a priority to find a betrothed for her," your brother responded, a chuckle in his voice bretraying an attempt to keep the peace. Even after becoming king, he had never truly lost his people-pleasing tendencies.

"But she rejects every suitor that steps in. It's unacceptable!" A Viscount, whose age had already robbed a couple teeth from his dentition, spoke loudly.

You scrunched your nose.

The fateful meeting went on for what felt like hours.

Old men truly were horrendous at matchmaking. Throwing in name of potential suitors. Foreign kings. Wealthy emissaries. Sometimes themselves...

You exited with an atrocious headache and bile rising in your throat at the thought of them. They thought of you as object. A political asset that could be traded. A status symbol that could be owned.

Despite your governess' best attempts at selling you the dream of love and marriage, you had always kept a cynic view on the whole ordeal. You saw the way the men around you treated their wives. How they were so thoroughly robbed of freedom, all in the name of love.

You already knew that life; one of being held in captivity. This type of jail was familiar--almost comfortable. The interest in trading it for something potentially worse simply evaded you. You did NOT want to be wed.

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You heard the announcement bright and early, along with everyone else at the castle. Your engagement to an aristocrat whose name your mind barely registerd.

They hadn't even consulted you.

Your thoughts flashed back to that fateful day 6 years ago. The morning of your parents' death. Your brother had promised. Sworn to not sell you away. To not forsake you in a world where you two were the only blood connection each other had left.

Red bled into your vision. The ire boiling your blood hotter than molten silver.

They would pay. You would find a way to make them.

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"Did you hear? The princess is getting engaged," Gojo's voice was too loud for comfort, as usual. How he could manage this volume in an already crowded place was a mystery...

Geto shook his head, bringing the beer mug to his lips.

"And how does that concern us?" he asked, voice even as he stared ahead, noting the way the bar maid poured out drinks lasciviously, certainly hoping to entice some of the men who filled the tavern into letting her provide other services.

"Ugh, you're no fun," the blue-eyed man plopped in the seat next to him, attempting to run his fingers through his hair before remembering how short he had made his most recent cut.

He sighed and turned back to Geto, leaning an arm against the counter. "You can't tell me you're not even a little curious about her. There are rumors that she's a sour old maid. Why is she just now getting engaged? and why in such a hurry?" he insisted, drawing closer with every new question.

"I should have never praised you for being good at gathering intel," Suguru got up, placing his empty mug on the counter and leaving a coin for the bar maid. "I am at fault for turning you into the most bothersome gossip known to man."

With a teasing smile that left Gojo sulking, the raven-haired man turned around and stepped outside the raucous atmosphere of the tavern in search of fresh air. Why had his men insisted on leaving their quiet inn for this? He truly didn't understand.

Geto leaned by a wall outside and looked up at the towering castle in the distance with a quet scoff. He would rather be at home already. But there was no way he would leave the younger ones without his supervision (though Gojo was his age, he could not be considered supervision enough).

Heavy steps splatting unto the mud in front of him grabbed his attention. Slowly, Suguru lifted his eyes.

A figure cloaked in shadows was approaching.

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The word exhilaration could not begin to describe the state you were in. Not with the way your heart was pounding against your chest, or how your entire body shook with a mix of determination and fear.

After a long time pondering, you had made your decision. The only way to truly humiliate everyone and thwart their plans was to make yourself useless. Undesirable. Impure.

Those lone nights reading by your window had allowed you to fully observe the schedules of the gaurds posted by your quarters. The time they switched shifts. And the time when that new recruit always snuck away to go meet the laundress.

It had drizzled all afternoon, and the ground was thick with mud. Swallowing your steps, coating your outer garments with a nice layer of dirt. It helped you blend even more in the thick night, but also made your entire body cringed everytime you took a step. You veered of the path from the main village square and soon, a small building came into view.

This must be the one.

You could hear the sound of a jolly fiddle along with shouting men. The smell of alcohol, pottage and dirt filled your senses. The villager who had wiggled her brows when you asked where you could have a 'good time' had sent you right down this path. Here lay the key to your revenge.

As soon as you got closer to the building you noticed a silhouette outside. Tall, covered in dark clothing. You pushed away the last of your fearful thoughts that crowded your mind and approached him. He would do.

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Geto's brows raised when the small figure approached him, steps determinate but still slow in the sludge of the mud.

"Excuse me," he looked down at the voice calling out, your face gently illuminated by the candlelight from inside. "I need your... services," your voice shook, sounding embarassed by your words.

His face remained relaxed, not announcing the brewing curiosity in his being. He let the silence simmer for a few moments, noticing how it made you squirm. You were obviously not used to this kind of place or interaction.

"And what kind of services would that be, miss?" his voice was low, rolling beneath the jumbled sounds that came from the inside.

You sighed, pursing your lips as you held your head higher, the hood of your cloak sliding off you head. Your skin was too smooth. His eyes quickly fleeted to your hands. No calluses on your fingers. Despite your humble attire, nothing about you said commoner.

"What would a noble woman be doing out here by herself? You should be on your way." He commented, and watched you immediately shrivel under his gaze. Did you really think you were being subtle?

Probably a sheltered little girl. Trying to rebel against her parents. You would be trouble, sooner or later. And if there is something he had learned to do, was deal with trouble before it got anyone killed.

Almost as fast as you had shrunk from his words, you bounced back, anger taking over your expression. You stuck a firm finger to his chest, and the man's eyes widened in surprise.

"I am sick of people trying to tell me what to do!" Your voice was firm, no longer that of the nervous girl who approached him. But instead of a woman. Determined.

You drew a pouch from the inside of your cloak, pressing it to his chest. It was too heavy to hold mere copper coins. "I'm just looking to spend a night --can't believe that you made me say that out loud--so take the money and bed me, damnit."

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Your heart threatened to punch through your rib cage, hammering with an intensity that you had seldom experienced. Mind spiraling with only half-formed thoughts. All your nerves firing with startling fury.

You were pressed flush against a tree, crowded by the body of this strange man. You could barely remember how you got here. One moment you were shoving your money into his face, and the next he had you turn to putty in his hands, his lips setting yours ablaze with the brusiing intensity of his kiss.

Weren't male escorts supposed to be more delicate about this stuff? Entice their clients and wrap them in a soft embrace? Instead this one pushed his tongue against your plush lips, biting them and inviting himself in with the sound of your gasp. You gripped his shoulders to keep yourself from crumbling under your weak knees. Trying to maintain a tether to reality in the torrent of sensations.

His hand slipped under your cloak and held your waist, his touch searing even over a layer of clothes. He finally pulled away from the kiss, his already dark eyes looking almost black in the moonlight. His lips tinted a deeper shade from your rouge. You took the chance to catch your breath, and he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply.

"You shouldn't be here. This is not a proper place for a lady," he rasped, voice dripping with a quiet intensity. "Are you sure you even want this?"

You waited until he lifted his eyes back to you before responding, holding his gaze as a weary chuckle drew from your lips. "Options are few, mister," you almost whispered, feeling his long raven hair between your fingers. He had a pretty face. And though his body felt strong against your touch, his eyes were kind. Maybe he was a good choice. "Please just indulge me," you drew even closer. "Please change the course of my fate."

Almost feeling a magnetic pull, his lips returned to yours, kissing you dizzy. His lips left yours to brush down the column of your neck, while his other hand slowly pulled at the fabric of your dress.

This is it, you steadied yourself, calming your screaming thoughts from decades of royal education about purity. It meant nothing to you anymore. You didn't care if you needed to destroy yourself to hurt them.

The man's hand slid from your now exposed knee up your thigh, causing a flurry of goosebumps to rise over your skin. You took in a sharp inhale and he kissed the base of your neck, almost soothingly, tracing the skin in small circles. After a short pause, his hand continued its journey up, rounding the curve of your hip when--

"Suguru!" a shout resonated in from the nearby tavern, and immediately he froze. Your hazy mind realized you had never even asked his name. "Suguru!" the voice insisted. "Goddamit where did he go?" steps started heading your direction, steady as the stranger continued to call out.

Suguru, as you now knew him pulled away from you, your body shivering at the loss of his warmth. He fixed your dress up with a quick tug and pulled your cloak over your head. "Go home, miss," he whispered, voice hoarse and eyes boring into yours. "Our fates can feel beyond our control sometimes, but I assure you, only you have the power to decide the direction of your life."

And with that he stepped away, back towards the raucous tavern.

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"What on earth were you even thinking!?" your brother yelled, pacing back and forth in front of you. Fingers pressing against his temple as if to nurse a headache. "You cannot pull a stunt like this after we've decided on your engagement, for the love of God!"

"After you have decided on my engagement," you corrected, standing up from the sofa in his office. Turns out that some nosy maid had noticed your little escapade from the castle and alerted the guards. Soon after you had made your way back to the little village square close to the castle, they had 'rescued' you back to your prison.

How kind of them.

"You cannot keep acting like a child, ____. This is for the good of our nation!" Exasperation bled into his tone.

"Our nation does not need me to marry some noble just for the sake of it!" You faced him teeth gritted with a death glare. "You crumbled under the council's pressure. You are a weak king," were your last words before exiting and marching back to your quarters.

------------------------------------♛---------------------------------------

"Suguru, did you hear?" Gojo rushed to his friend's side, matching his steady pace as they stepped through palace halls. "The princess apparently almost ran away last night!" his words came out in a rushed whisper, like he couldn't let the new piece of gossip out quickly enough.

"Satoru, after having to de-escalate the bar brawl that you started, I am in no mood for this," Geto responded, throwing his friend an accusatory glance.

"Listen it's not my fault! that guy made fun of my hair! You know I'm self-conscious about it..." he retorted, eliciting a few snickers from the rest of their company. "It sounds like some of you want to spend the rest of the week on weapon training rather than going home to your families," Gojo threw them a sharp glance, which quickly resulted in a handful of 'sorry' and 'no sir'.

"Let's just get this over with and all get home," Geto said, taking his position in front of his men as the head of the Order of the Garter. Standing at attention with their ceremonial armor in front of the regal mahogany doors.

Two palace gaurds stood on each side, ready to open them the doors to a brand new life and title.

------------------------------------♛---------------------------------------

"The men introduced today have fought vaillantly to protect our kingdom's integrity, and deserve the highest honor..." The herald stood by the main door, reading off a list of achievements that did not interest you in the least.

Sitting on the dais, your mind was preoccupied by other matters. Your plan yesterday had failed. Catastrophically. You left the encounter with the strange man--Suguru--with a racing heart, your pockets still full and words that kept echoing in your mind.

'Only you have the power to decide the direction of your life.'

Bullshit, you sighed. He obviously knew nothing about you. But you couldn't help but feel the ghost of his touch over your body. Like a phantom ache that still lined the skin of your thigh.

The man finally rolled his scroll and your brother, sitting next to you announced the opening of the doors and the official beginning of the dubbing ceremony for the kingdom's new knights.

------------------------------------♛---------------------------------------

No way. No fucking way.

Perhaps his eyes were betraying him.

Yeah, it had to be that. He drank too much last night and was hallucinating right now.

Though he tried his hardest to look focused and calm while the king tapped his armored shoulders with the ceremonial blade, Suguru's attention was on only one person.

You.

Wide-eyed and Stiff-backed, you stared at him like a deer caught in a trap.

It had to be you.

That noble lady he encountered the previous night. That he almost took against a tree. Even if asked, Suguru was not sure he could explain what had gotten into him in that moment. Maybe it was the desperation in your voice. The invitation of your soft features. The alcohol already running in his veins. Or maybe he was just plain crazy.

"Sir Geto Suguru," the king pronounced, and Geto forced himself to stand up and turn his eyes back to the man. "Welcome to the wonders of nobility," he said with a smile.

"But be sure to remember that there are some things that you cannot covet." The king added with a more pointed expression, before returning to address the rest of the congregation, an easy smile pulling at his lips.

Even an idiot could see the warning, but maybe Suguru was a fool, because he could not help stealing another glance at you. And remembering how you had felt in his arms the night before.

Shit.

I definitely got carried away writing this haha. I really hope you like it though, I didn't really have time to thoroughly edit it. Thank you so much for your request again darling🫶🏾🫶🏾

comments and reblogs are much appreciated (❁´◡`❁)

[gingerteawrites]

ooooooooh, I know exactly how to use this one hehe *evil scheming noises*

"You don't know me. I'm not the same person anymore."

"That's okay. I'll get to know you again."

[gingerteawrites]

ahhhhhhhhhh, this is so cute, so sweet so soft. Yes Gojo is a puppy in love I am absolutely certain of it!

satoru gojo—the strongest sorcerer—is an absolute softie when it comes to his wife.

the man could kill everyone in japan if he wanted to, yet when you're around, he's as dangerous as a kitten.

and that confused everyone around him.

how was it that even a murmur of your name would make the famous gojo gush and drop everything to talk about you? he could be in the midst of fighting a curse, but if his phone buzzes and your name is on the screen? that curse might as well accept its fate or be prepared for him to be on call with you for the remainder of the fight.

"toru, are you busy?" "not at all, baby—" his words would be cut off as the curse he was fighting attempted to land a hit on him, and the call would only fill with the sound of crashes before you realized what was happening. "are you seriously in the middle of a mission!?" your question remained unanswered for a second before you heard satoru laugh, "i mean, i was, but did you need something? money? sweets? a photo of your handsome husband?" "SATORU!"

it's clear to everyone that gojo is in love with you. he wouldn't just take a bullet for you, but rather a whole nuclear bomb if needed. he's willing to risk everything for you—even his job.

if he's in a meeting and you call him, he's picking up the phone no matter how many dirty looks he gets. what are they going to do about it? he's the strongest, but with the way he acts around you, you'd think otherwise.

his students have noted that every time you come into his classroom, he'd grin like a high schooler in love. he practically has heart eyes that you can see through his blindfold.

"gojo-sensei?" yuji's voice rang out in the classroom, "yes, yuji?" gojo's tone was filled with boredom as the man was leaning back in his chair—feet on top of his desk while he lifted a finger to pull back his blindfold. yuji was seen with megumi and nobara, and all three of them were pointing at the door. where you, his lovely wife, stood with a bento box. "you forgot your lunch—" "MY WIFE!" the sound of gojo's chair hitting the floor echoed as you took a step back from the doorframe, yet your attempt to move out of the way was pointless as gojo barreled toward you with open arms. his arms wrapped around you in a tight hug, and you let out a quiet sigh as you held the bento box up. "is my beautiful wife here to visit her husband?" "i'm here to give you your lunch, toru." "MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE LOVES ME ENOUGH TO COME VISIT ME!" while gojo continued to ramble with you still in his arms, the three students watched the scene with narrowed eyes. "do you think she ever gets tired of him?" nobara asked bluntly, and yuji only shrugged. they continued to watch as gojo only hugged you tighter, and a soft smile appeared on your face as he continued to talk. "i don't think so..." yuji mumbled before turning his attention back to his phone, and the others did the same thing. except for gojo. because his attention was on you and you only.

comments & reblogs are always appreciated !!

[gingerteawrites]

these are so regal

random colored line dividers part five:

please like and credit if you use, reblogs are appreciated! thank you! 💕

[gingerteawrites]

Rave babe - Nanami Kento

A/N: I suddenly had this thought, so armed with my very preliminary knowledge of emo culture, I wrote a little something. Barely proofread.

Divider: @bernardsbendystraws

Nanami was all straight lines and sharp edges. From his pristine suits to his no-nonesense attitude, nothing about him gave the impression of anything but prim and proper.

Actually, that is not entirely true.

There were hints. Elusive, but there.

Things like the rebellious leopard print of his favorite tie. His subtle 'fuck you' attitude towards authority.

Maybe they should have been your clue to one deep dark secret that your husband kept. One that, on a fateful cleaning day, you discovered hid in your shared room.

It was a small box, tucked in the corner of your closet. So inconspicuous under the pile of neatly-stacked shoe boxes that it nearly evaded your sight. But its dimensions were not as precise as the ones it hid under, betraying the unexpected nature of its contents.

Oh so carefully, you pried it away from its confines and lifted the lid, audibly gasping at what laid within.

Pictures.

Many of them depicting a blonde young man whose resemblance to your husband was undeniable. Except, everything else was different

The cleaning was quickly forgotten as you sat on your bed, giggling at the old pictures of Nanami. He looked straight out of a 2000s emo band poster —dramatic bang covering his right eye in a way that begged mystery, an eyebrow piercing whose silver surface reflected the flash of the camera. Poses that screamed 'my heart is too dark for this world.'

One picture of him nonchalantly posing next to a My Chemical Romance poster had you cackling uncontrollably, pulling out your phone to record the evidence. How had no one ever told you about this?

It was in this position, now laid down with all the pictures sprawled on your bed and still giggling to yourself, that Nanami found you.

“Good afternoon my love-” the familiar greeting slipped from his lips, as he loosened his tie, stepping into the room, before stopping dead in his tracks when his brain registered what you were doing.

“Ken,” you turned to him, the wide smile on your lips holding a hint of mischief. “You never told me about this,” you sauntered over, pictures in your hands, ready to tease. “You were a little emo boy, huh?”

A weary sigh drew from his lips, embarassment creeping into his thoughts at the memories of his style at the time. You didn't miss the small blush that tinted his cheeks. “That was 2008, [name]” his lips drew into a tight line, advancing further into the room to put his briefcase down. “there’s no need to dig out embarassing memories.”

The edge in his voice cooled your excitement a little as you stood by the door. Immediately, the thoughts of teasing dropped from your mind.

“I don’t think it’s embarassing, Kento. I think it’s cute. I love seeing pictures of you as a teenager,” your voice softened, eyes drifting to the photos in your hands again. Even as a teen, he had already mastered the poker face, his look betraying not a hint of amusement. It was funny, in a way. How hints of the man you knew now had already formed then.

He turned to you, immediately regretting being so curt.

If he had to be honest with himself, he had buried this part of himself because of how jarringly it contrasted his current image. Countless years of teasing from Gojo aside, Nanami understood that being a respectable adult and having a full blown emo phase were not two things people thought went together. His heart’s desire was to be a pillar of stability for those around him. Even if that meant relinquishing past interests.

“Plus, I’m pretty sure I had a couple Paramore songs in my rotation at some point too,” you added, chuckling to yourself as you looked up at him.

“Really?” The slight tension had now fully dissipated. He crossed his arms, leveling you with a questioning look. One that held absolutely no bite.

“Yup,” you walked to him, playfulness returning, placing the pictures back in their box that still sat on the bed. “Actually do you know what I’ve always wanted to try?” you drew even closer, smiling at the way he couldn’t resist the urge to uncross his arms and place them around your hips. In one swift movement, your body was flush against his.

“What?” his voice rumbled deep against your chest.

“A rave!” You beamed, resting your arms on his chest.

“Well, emo and rave culture aren’t exactly the same thing,” he began, brows relaxed as he explained. “It’s like comparing punk rock to EDM. Similar in a way, but also very different, love.”

“But I feel like I know a good number of people who were emo when I was younger who love raves now,” you justified.

“Well, I cannot deny that the emo and goth to raver pipeline is pretty significant,” he chuckled at your inquiry, fully disarmed in the face of your earnestness.

“So take me? I want to go with you,” you pressed closer, your face just a breath away from his.

Nanami couldn’t suppress his smile, “We'll debate that after I've had my welcome home kiss, yeah?” he finally leaned over, closing his lips over yours in a move that stole your breath, kissing you out of any thoughts of his emo past —for now.

Nanami was not quite ready to admit to the signed copy of 'The Black Parade' that he still kept as one of his most prized possessions (It really wasn't just a phase). But the thought of you in a rave outfit might just be enough to make him concede to your request.

I truly know nothing about emo/rave culture so I hope this wasn't too bad`(*>﹏<*)′

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated (❁´◡`❁)

[gingerteawrites]

Like & Reblog to use.

[gingerteawrites]

a tired jjk men sandwich?? sign me up!╰(*°▽°*)╯

higuruma nanami helpin you at work

[gingerteawrites]

BY THE HEARTH: WOE

A/N: Did I just post twice in the same week??? (after not updating this series for two months...). We're back, and get ready for angst galore, courtesy of a long conversation with my roommate. We're reaching the final stretch of this story and I wanted to shake things up a little bit. Thank you all my loves for your lovely comments on the previous part, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts again. Kisses <3

Read previous part here.

Content: Royalty!AU, Nanami x female reader, king Nanami, Princess Y/N, Widower Nanami, Toddler Yuuji, hurt, angst. Not beta read

Word count: ~2.5K words

Banner by: @cafekitsune

ACT XIV

Music continued to spiral from one corner of the room, and you continued being circled by more and more people.

How much longer of this evening did you need to endure?

You subtly looked around for Nanami, hoping to catch his gaze and find an escape out of the room. The soiree had been going on for hours. Entertainer after entertainer taking center stage, more food being brought out, more conversations being started. And you growing increasingly exhausted.

Finally! A moment of respite when a count whose name you couldn’t bother remembering finally ended the round of conversation he had you locked in. You sighed under your breath, extending your feet under your dress in an attempt to stretch.

Looking for the nearest surface to sit, you turned around, but bumped into a solid surface.

“My apologies,” slipped quickly from your lips, tired but sincere, even before you looked up to see which member of nobility you would have to entertain for the foreseeable future.

“No need,” the voice soothed, and you looked up to find your husband’s tired face.

“Thank heavens,” you whispered, only for his ears. He chuckled in return.

“I take it you are ready to retire?”

“More than ready,” you finally allowed yourself to sound as winded as you felt. Tired, truly.

He held your arms, shielding you from the surrounding crowd. Somehow they got the message, keeping their distance as they watched the exchange between queen and king.

A soft frown pulled at his features, drawn tight as he observed your face. “I fear the event will run until the morning. And it is costumary for everyone to attend until it is over,” his fingers grazed your cheek, if only in an attempt to soothe your fatigue. “I apologize.”

Something inside you stirred. Maybe displeasure, maybe annoyance. But none of it bubbled to the surface. Not when you felt so relieved by your husband’s presence. You breathed and placed a smile on your face, looking into his amber eyes when you placed a hand on his chest —if only to convey how much he soothed you.

“No need,” you mirrorred, then turning slightly as your eyes swept the room.

“Have you seen Yuuji? I lost track of where he was playing with the other kids,” you spoke, more to yourself than to him. Immediately you felt the king tense in your hold, his own eyes scanning your surroundings.

“No,” was the only word he spoke. “I was about to go look for him. I will return briefly,” and just as quickly as he came, he left your side, taking that last bit of comfort with him. If only you knew what would ensue, maybe you would have held on tighter...

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed beyond the door —fast and deliberate, followed by hushed whispers.

All three children instinctively understood.

It was time to hide.

“We need to act now! I am tired of all this inaction. We’re not getting anywhere!” A heavy voice spoke, loudly bursting into the room. His voice sounded like it belonged to one whose lungs had been long coated by the soot of cigars. One would venture to guess that the man from which it came would not last more than a round of stoolball before calling for a chair.

“Do not speak to me like that, old man,” another voice responded. Cutting, irritated. Decidedly less decrepit.

From their hiding spot in a nearby wooden cabinet, all the children could make out was the voices of two men in rushed conversation. The hiding spot provided no light, and they were too worried about getting caught and scolded to make even the tiniest of movements. Yuuji couldn’t tell whose foot he was uncomfortable sat on, and whose face was on the receiving end of his arm either.

“I need more resources, that’s what I need! The people of this nation are spineless. Appeased by a docile king. I can hire merceneries. Give me some of your men and I can take him down!” the older man spoke again, his words rushed in a crazed speech.

“I cannot keep giving you more money without results,” the younger voice replied, and the scraping of a chair could be heard.

Great, he’s taking a seat.

“And I am starting to think that your great plan,” the words dripped with sarcasm “is nothing but wishful thinking. Public opinion of the royal family is at an all-time high-”

“And that is why we need to act! If things keep going this way, say goodbye to your aspirations of ever ruling this country.” The old man emphasized.

“Know your place!” the other one cut in, his breath growing heavier, anger brewing. “If anyone, I have the strongest claim to the throne. My family ruled this place before all of you parasites ever aspired to be nobility. You are in my land, so you better act like it before you lose your head.”

“My apologies, your grace,” the older man’s voice shook. There was a beat of tense silence, and some words said that Yuuji could not decipher.

“We will talk about this at another time,” the chair scraped the floor again, and the door opened. Just like they had entered, the pair of footsteps rushed outside, pulling the door shut.

Almost comically, the children burst out of the cabinet and onto the floor. A series of groans and grumbles ensued as they found their bearings, realizing who was responsible for the other’s discomfort.

Nobara was the first to get up, pointing an accusatory look at the boys. “Don’t shove me like that next time!”

Megumi frowned, returning the look at her. “There will be no next time.”

“I need to go back and tell papa what I heard!” Yuuji announced, uninterested in the current banter. The child may not have fully understood what was going on, but the urgency in the men’s voice was enough to alert even the most undiscerning soul that something was wrong.

Yuuji was observant. He recalled a conversation he had overhead between Haibara and Ichiji regarding an insurrection and possible culprits. The men in the room had to be connected to it somehow. The child’s heart swelled with anticipation.

I can be useful, he thought. Not be a burden to mama and papa for once.

“None of my business,” Megumi turned, bringing the child’s thoughts back to the room. He headed for where he was previously sat but his tiny brows furrowed.

“My book…” he trailed off, turning back around to face Yuuji. “Where is my book?” his voice grew the slightest bit louder; the most emotion he had shown in their short encounter.

“Relax,” Nobara crossed her arms, “It’s probably somewhere in the closet,” she headed for the cabinet again, opening the door and crawling into the dark box, hands prodding around for the book.

Impatient with the exchange, Yuuji swung the door open and bolted out, “We can look for it later!” he announced. Megumi followed, calling out to him to wait.

However, not even a few steps outside, the two boys felt themselves roughly lifted off the ground.

“I knew we had some rats listening around,” the voice now had a face, Duke Naoya Zenin looked at the children he held by their collars, displeasure evident in his features. “We just had to give them space to come scurrying out. The bastard child,” he looked at Megumi, whose expression held so much hostility it could rattle even a grown man. But the duke seemed a little too used to it. “And the nation’s prince…”

Yuuji’s heart sunk and he trashed wildly, his hand connecting with the man’s face. Naoya felt his eyes water and groaned, yanking Yuuji harder and holding the kid against the wall.

“You little shit,” he had half a mind to slam him harder against the wall when he was interrupted, again, by the older man.

“Your grace, wait!” Yuuji’s eyes drifted to Count Kamo, a leather-bound book in his hand. Megumi’s.

He knew the man was his grandfather, like a polar bear knew of its relatives —Ultimately incosequential to the solitary animal’s life. The count had tried to be close to him earlier in his life. If he tried really hard, the prince could recall moments where he had received smiles and gifts from the man. But soon after Kaori’s death, everything had changed. It was like he had lost all interest.

A mere child was useless in making urgent political moves. Especially with the way the king sheltered him from outside influences.

“An opportunity just fell in our hands,” the old man approached, his voice growing sleazier by the second. “Let us act wisely.”

Naoya regarded the old man with a curled lip, annoyed at the fact that he could not take out his anger on the child. At least not yet.

But stupid as he may sometimes act, the count was right.

With a royal prince as ammunition, they had just been dealt a new hand of cards. How so very useful. That certainly was a way to shake things up.

With a quick strike to the temple, both children were out and hauled away.

Nobara, who, upon hearing more voices had stilled in the corner of the dark cabinet listened to the footsteps distancing themselves, her little heart pounding with fear. What had she gotten herself into?

You closed your eyes and suppressed a yawn, looking out of one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that adorned the grand ballroom. Beyond them, the faintest glow, peeking just below the horizon announced your imminent release from the burden of this event. Party turned into prison.

At least the fatigue seemed to have gotten to the rest of your entourage, their steps slowed, most of them now sitting.

Unfortuntely, you feared that if you took even a moment to sit, your mind would lose the battle against sleep. You moved from the hors-d’oeuvres table towards the main dais, intent on finishing the festivities with a short conversation with the Duke’s shy consort. But a few steps away from your destination —you just couldn’t seem to finish what you started this evening— you noticed something very curious.

Where on earth is Sir Haibara?

He never seemed to stray too far from you during your stay here (the king had explained to you that he was just being cautious. The gesture had warmed your heart in the moment.). Had Kento enlisted him to search for Yuuji? Was the child engaged in one of his hide-and-seek games?

Just like the first time we met. You smiled at the fond memory. Maybe he was waiting for you to find him, just like you had that time.

Now fully distracted and invigorated by this new thought, you pivoted from your prior destination. You would start with the small corridor you had noticed hid behind a heavy curtain at the back of the room. The perfect place for a child to slip in.

“Yuuji?” you called out, taking measured steps into the hall. It was poorly lit and felt cooler than the room you came from. Strangely eerie. You took more steps and noticed a door slightly ajar. He had to be there! You pushed it cautiously, hearing its faint creaking.

“Yuuji? Are you in here, my little prince?” you called out again, scanning the room. It looked like an office of some sorts. A small couch, a work desk and a sturdy-looking wooden cabinet. As if sensing your thoughts, you heard rustling from the cabinet.

“Are you in there?” you mused, drawing closer and crouching near the entrance of the piece of furniture. But instead of your pink-haired son, you noticed the big brown eyes of a little girl. Your brows furrowed in recognition. She was the spunky daughter of the eastern knight family.

“Lady Kugisaki, right?” your voice softened as you extended a hand. “Are you alright?”

She hesitated for a second but crawled out of the cramped space and took your hand. And that was when you felt it.

Shaking. Even though her expression did not quite betray fear.

Your fingers closed softly over hers, frown deepening. “Is everything alright?” you reiterated, concern unfurling in your heart.

“They took them,” she spoke, and your heart tightened in your chest. Not your mind, but your very soul sensed something was amiss. A quiet sense of dread filled your being.

“Who? Who took who?” you prompted, trying not to sound as anxious as you suddenly felt.

“The two scary men. They took Yuuji and the grumpy boy,” she explained and the panic only seemed to amplify.

Taken? Two scary men? Your mind spiralled. You tried to rationalize, maybe the two scary men were Nanami and Haibara. Panicked and in search of the prince.

But as you started walking back to the main reception hall and further questioned the girl, all your thoughts became engulfed with fright. The men were involved in the insurrection in the South. They sought power. Try as she may, the little girl could not give you any name. She had not even seen their faces.

As soon as the pair returned to the main ballroom, Nobara was picked up by her father, a stern reproach on his lips for the little girl.

“I already told you, you cannot go disappearing on me like this!” he directed a thankful look at you, and you forced a smile onto your face as reply. The child clung onto her father, but just as he turned around to excuse hismelf, you silently mouthed a few words to her.

"You cannot tell anyone about what happened." A small nod gave you confirmation that she got your message, and you turned around to find Kento.

He would know what to do, you tried to console yourself. You could not deal with this alone. You spun around, searching for him in the room, no longer caring about maintaining your composure as people slowly filtered out of the grand room. Musicians packing up, exhausted nobility returning to their quarters. But still, no sign of your husband.

From the corner of your eye you saw Misato, the other maid you had made the trip with rush towards you.

“Your majesty,” she was out of breath? Had she been looking for you? “We need to get back. Sir Haibara told me to return you to our quarters as soon as possible,” she explained, already rushing you out of the room.

“I need to speak to him and Kento. Where are they?” you looked back, the room growing dimmer as you stepped further away from it.

“They needed to leave the castle. An emergency.”

Something in your heart shattered. Of course, you were suure he had a good reason to be gone, but that did not help the ache of being left behind. Scared and confused.

Your son was missing and you had no clue where your husband was. The walls of the castle felt like they were closing around you, swallowing you in the darkness of their uncertainty. Left without your bearings.

oooo, how are we feeling after this one? Next chapter took a lot of planning so I hope you like the direction I'll go with it!

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated (❁´◡`❁)

Tag list: @bl3333h @ladygojooo @evans-dejong @flaneur002 @bopsigles

@taeteddybear @tylersaiddonteatbananas @starmapz @lucreied @cosmicbreathe

@abhootghiihii @amisuh @luvstama @tomiokasecretlover @ofcqdesi

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@bakugouswaif @babewardkenway @fictowhore @sodapop182

[gingerteawrites]

There was a phrase that had grown surprisingly redundant in the Iudex’s vocabulary. A mere 7 words. Maybe shocking to some in their simplicity.

Even Neuvillette himself wondered why his mind would not bring itself to muster something more complex. More compelling.

7 words. Way too simple. But still, heavy in their sheer sincerity.

“I look forward to our next encounter,” he smiled when he found himself uttering the familiar phrase. Like a wish, a promise. Always to you.

Who else but you?

Had you even noticed?

How his eyes would linger when you were together? How his body betrayed his unfailing want for your presence? Your closeness?

Well, if you did, you had not commented on it. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe this juvenile crush the Chief Justice of Fontaine had on you, the strange outlander was meant to remain just that. A crush. Fleeting and unrealized.

Until then— when his heart would finally relinquish these feelings for you— he feared he would continue uttering those same words.

Hoping that maybe someday you will discern their true meaning. You will turn back, and decide to stay by his side, closer than he had ever let anyone.

That a simple encounter would turn into an indefinite sojourn. Just how you already sojourned in his heart.

A/N: Guess who is finally free from the shackles of school?? Meeeeee! With my summer break being here, be ready for weekly updates! I thought i'd start off with this small bit of writing about Neuvilette (can't believe I haven't written anything about him yet). This is also the best time to request stories from me, so feel free to use my asks! Thank you all so much for reading.

divider by: @viviansturns

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated(❁´◡`❁)

[gingerteawrites]

𝑹𝑬𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑰𝑽𝑬 𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑴𝑨𝑫𝑬

like + repost and tag me in your post, tyyyy!

[gingerteawrites]

sweet baby Jesus

[gingerteawrites]

LONE SOJOURNER - DILUC RAGVINDR

A/N: The 'Lone Sojourner' theme that plays around Dawn Winery at night is honestly one of my favorites in genshin. I have it on loop during my long nights of study, and I had this idea about Diluc being the one who played it.

divider by: @cafekitsune

There were some nights when it felt like you could see the entire galazy painted across the night sky. Brilliant stars, scintillating against the dark canvas of the universe shot through the sky. The moon's soft glow illuminated the earth, pale and white.

On nights like these, you enjoyed walking from your little home in Springvale to the outskirts of Dawn Winery. Letting yourself enjoy the gentle breeze that carried the sweet aroma of ripening grapes.

Already these moments brought about boundless bliss. Instances of escape, when you could pretend myriad of problems did not plague your every waking moment. When you could escape the tumult of your own mind.

But one special night, a new color painted itself onto the dark canvas of these solitary evenings.

Searing with their melancholy, delicate notes resonated into the air. You stilled, turning in the direction of the sound and listening with bated breath.

The somber melody that drifted in the night almost brought you to tears. How could those strings, whose jolly tunes were so deeply imbued in the culture of Mondstat sound so... mournful?

Disregarding any sense of self-preservation, you set out in search of the origin of the sound. You approached the manor.

The ever-present anxious voice in your mind screamed at you. Told you an encounter with a stranger in the dead of night was dangerous. But somehow your heart harbored no fear. If this was a trap, you were willingly falling into it.

Soon enough you found the source. Slumped against the stone fence that circled the manor, a crimson-haired man, playing into the night for the celestial bodies to listen.

His eyes caught yours.

And something shifted in the air.

Master Diluc, the uncrowned king of Mondstat knew.

You saw him.

Beyond his usual taciturn and indifferent mask. You saw the pain that glimmered in his eyes. A sadness whose roots sunk into every fiber of his being.

The acoustic melody stopped, but you could swear you still heard it playing in the confines of your mind. Lulling you closer, inviting you in.

The man barely moved, barely reacted. Just watching you. Like you had become the audience he was seeking in the stars. Without any word you had already witnessed his soul bare. Broken and hurt.

But still, like the notes of the song, piercing with a deep need. To be heard. To be loved.

Did he deserve to ask that of someone? Did he realize that you were already willing to hold him close to your heart?

I like how this reads a little like poetry. But unfortunately, not as much substance in terms of plot, sorry. Still, I hope you enjoyed it!

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated(❁´◡`❁)

[gingerteawrites]

Would it be possible to be added to your nanami fic tag list??? The other day I had to scouer my likes and reposts for an hour to find it 💀. P.s thank you so much for your wonderful fic and the imaginary world that you've created😭💜 it is legitimately the highlight of my week when you post 😭😭

Of course, darling! I'll tag you on the latest part and in every one I post from now on. Thank you so much for your compliment, it means a lot😭💓💓

As soon as I'm done with final exams, I promise I'll post more often. I love hearing from everyone.

[gingerteawrites]

literally, comments make my whole week! Also, don't be shy, use my asks :))

"I didn't comment on a fic I liked because I don't think the author would care or remember my comment anyway". fanfic writer here, I still remember comments I got on my fics from seven years ago. I still think about them and they still make me smile. your kind comments are what motivates us and what helps us keep writing.

I personally know writers who take screenshot and print out comments they got from their readers.

TL;DR comments matter to us writers more than you think. if you like a fanfic, never be shy to let the author know ♡

[gingerteawrites]

Babysitter - Geto Suguru

EPISODE 1: THE INTERVIEW

A/N: Wow it's been two months since I first posted this little story... I've been playing with ideas in my head for a long time and finally managed to write something coherent. I hope you like it

Content: geto suguru x female reader, dad!Geto, college student reader, non jujutsu au, angst, fluff, reader has some unspecified trauma.

Read previous part here.

Divider by: @k1ssyoursister

The hem of your dress shirt was starting to get all scrunched up between your fingers.

So much for ironing, you sighed under your breath, looking out at the passing scenery.

It was an uncharacteristically warm February afternoon, but the weather did nothing to untangle the increasingly winding ball of nerves in you. You gave yourself another once-over in the bus’ window, thoughts adrift.

Were you dressed too informal? How does one even dress to be interviewed for a babysitting job?

Doubt steadily crept over your choice of a white dress shirt tucked into a pair of jeans and brown cardigan. Memories of your last job interview flashed in your mind.

It had been a cumbersome encounter. All of that just for a secretary position. Long story short, the hiring manager had berated you for not being appropriately-dress (you were wearing sneakers, your only good pair of shoes, instead of heels).

You looked down at the white sneakers you had vigorously scrubbed the night before and sighed again. They’d have to do for today.

Dead and monotone, a female voice over the intercom announced your first stop. It was time for your transfer to the next bus line before you arrived at Geto Suguru’s house. You exited and waited only a few minutes for the latter to arrive. When you stepped into a bus, shocking with its clean and firm-cushoined seats (in staunch opposition to the janky metro buses from your neighborhood), your mind finally caught up to where you were going.

Mr Geto lived in a nice neighborhood. A really nice one. The wealthy edge of town, seemingly impermeable to the dirt and grime that the city seemed to endlessly churn.

Perfectly groomed trees lined the pavement, and big houses in the same fancy mid-century modern style dotted large lots. Your brain almost filled in the sound of driving lawnmowers and full, wealthy laughter.

“No shit he pays well,” you spoke under your breath as you stepped off at your final stop, the bus driver almost scaring you when they wished you a good day in an animated tone.

The navigation app was promptly pulled up to make sure you weren’t going to knock at a random rich person’s door. You confirmed the address and with a nod and set out for the home in question.

Soon, you were faced with a set of large ebony french doors. You took in a deep breath, mentally going over everything you had practiced and pulled at the hem of your shirt in a last-ditch attempt to straighten it before knocking on the door.

toc toc toc

A second passed. Another one.

You were about to knock again when a chime sounded above you, followed by the voice of a man.

“Who is it?” smoky and calm, the sound resounded above you.

“Uhm- my name is Y/N,” your voice was slightly shaky, the bundle of nerves only seeming to grow. “I’m here for the babysitting interview,” with great effort you forced yourself to sound more certain.

Relax.

“Oh, Y/N please come on in,” the voice sounded again before you heard a click of the door unlocking and parting slightly, inviting you into the house.

With small steps your feet carried you in, trying your best to not stare at the modern decor and the snaking canopy of plants that seemed to cover every wall. Even the air felt fresher in there, but that only served to heighten your anxiety. You didn’t belong here.

He’ll smell the poverty on me from a mile away.

A man appeared from behind the staircase, his dark pool of hair tied low in a loose ponytail and a thin frame of glasses perched on his nose. He looked like he belonged right in this place, all smooth and suave. Sleek and undeniably winsome.

He stepped closer, extending a hand.

“Welcome, I am Suguru Geto,” you shook his hand, his skin smooth against yours.

“Y/N L/N, nice to meet you,” he smiled, as if pleased by the mere sound of your name.

His eyes, a dark infite pool gave the impression that he could see through you. You decided right there that you didn’t like it. His polished exterior seemed to be a true reflection of his inner state, unlike you, who merely cosplayed a sense of self-assurance when needed.

“Please follow me,” his voice broke you out of your thoughts. You nodded, finally schooling your thoughts, and followed behind him as he led you further into the house. Deeper into the modern jungle. Eventually he pushed the door to a home office space, holding it open for you to walk in.

Now sitting across from him, you watched the man place his glasses down, and lean against his chair. Relaxed, undoubtedly feeling completely in control of the interaction. His eyes met yours, and you forced yourself to hold the contact.

“So, tell me about yourself,” he spoke softly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why are you interested in this job?”

Your back straightened, ready to give your spiel. This is the part you had prepared for, no need to be nervous. You reminded yourself.

“I am a fourth year university student studying cognitive science,” a weary smile overtook your features, the images of long hours of study flashing in your brain. You really did love your major, if only employers loved it as much as you. “I love spending times with kids,” partial truth, if they were capable of listening. “And I heard about you from a good friend so I thought it would be a good way to offer my help as well as an opportunity for me,” yes, no mention of your desperate need for money.

You looked up at him with a small smile, hoping he liked your little intro. From here, you had anticipated every question he would ask. Your skills with kids, patience and communication, safety and even first-aid. No matter what, you were prepared, having gone over every possibility a million times in your head.

“I already know all of that from your resume and letter of intent, Ms Y/N,” he leaned forward, tilting his head. His non-chalant demeanor feeling scathing against your nerves. He was too calm, like he knew what laid beneath the surface. Your bare self, desperate and hurt. The poor fabric of your shirt found itself between your fingers. At this rate, you would wear the cloth thin in no time. “You see, my girls mean the world to me,” he breathed out with a soft smile, “so tell me about you, honestly.”

Your shoulders sagged, breathing out a sigh. Despite your chronic overthinking, this was the one eventuality you had not anticipated. What kind of hippie had you had the misfortune to fall upon? Eyeing him wearily, your fingers dropped from the fabric of your shirt.

You chuckled under your breath, feeling strangely amused by the turn of events. Did he really expect to lay yourself bare? A stranger?

The audacity, really.

You knew you were due for a mental breakdown, and the urge to have it in a wealthy stranger’s house was starting to seem a little too appealing. Emotions warred in your mind, a split second for your brain to decide how to deal with this.

“Go tell someone if you think it will do anything,” he snickered above you. Your lips trembled, tears flowing down well-worn paths on your cheeks. “No one will believe you. NO ONE. So you better shut up!” The sting of a slap on your cheek almost registered before the words themselves.

Decision made.

A controlled smile slowly took over your features, and you looked back up at the man sitting across from you. You folded your hands in your lap. Calm, collected, perfectly mirroring his demeanor.

“To be honest, working with children has never quite been my dream. But necessity is the mother of invention, right? I might not have much experience, but I understand the mind, and I know that children want to feel safe and respected. I can offer that, beyond being patient and caring. I would be grateful to learn alongside your daughters, but ultimately you are the ones to decide.”

You could have sworn his eyes narrowed at you, if only for a split second. But soon it was gone, leaving the man relaxing back against his chair, giving you an easy smile.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he nodded. “Some people try too hard to sound overqualified, it’s all. I did not mean to put you in the spot.”

You shook your head.

“Not at all, it’s understandable. You just want to make sure that your daughters are safe, and I admire that,” he smiled at the remark, and you knew you got him. He pushed away from the table and stood with poise that was beginning to feel characteristic of him.

“Well the last part of the interview will be conducted by my daughters themselves. Is it alright if we transition to that right now?”

“Of course,” you nodded, and he soon directed you out of the office and into a well furnished play room adjecent to it.

The meeting with the Mimiko and Nanako had gone surprisingly well. A highly needed moment of respite from the torment of your own mind. The twins had eyed you wearily at first, but the second you pointed out the my little pony plushie that Nanako held close and started humming the opening tune, they had crowded you with persistent questions about your knowledge of the show.

Half and hour later, you were still sat on the floor, defending your love for Discord when a knock sounded on the door before opening slightly.

“Alright, girls, I think it’s time to let our new friend go,” their father had returned, crouching to pat the heads of his daughters. They protested weakly, but after an admonishing smile, they soon quieted down.

You stood and waved goodbye to the girls, following Geto back out into the living room.

“So, when would you like to start?” his voice held an amused lilt, clearly pleased by your encounter with the girls.

Your heart lunged in your chest and you looked up at him.

Job secured.

“Whenever you would like me to,” you spoke, hopefully not too eager, and his smile widened.

Back in the office space, you discussed pay; $30/hour, way more than you had ever made in any single job. You would be with the girl every weekday, for four hours after they returned from school. And he insisted on paying you time and half if he needed help outside of those times. You made a mental note to buy Nobara that new lipstick she’s been raving about just to say thanks.

After what felt like hours in this strange new world, you stepped out of his house. And it felt like you could take full breaths again. Breaths full of relief. With a mere part-time job, you would be able to pay rent and put food on the table. This was more stability than you had probably ever experienced in your life.

However, you could not shake the quiet sense of dread that crept into this one sunny moment.

Be grateful, you reminded yourself, stepping back into your small room. Back into the world you had worked so hard to built for yourself. You’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.

Unfortunately, I cannot guarantee a regular update schedule. Still, I hope you enjoyed this read.

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated(❁´◡`❁)

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