#arranged marriage tw

[koerus]

✧˚ · . ･ﾟﾟ･ hi !! iso writing partners for historical/fantasy plots that include kink, t*boo dynamics, smut, etc. !! give me fairies, pirates, kings, queens, mermaids, arranged marriages, kidnappings, medieval and old west settings....all that shit !!

[joyfulmagic]

⛓Joscelin for Relta?

@xxofloveandlossxx // Joscelin x Relta, arranged marriage verse

Relta adjusted her veil casually as she walked down the aisle, being “given away” by her younger brother, Prince Alastair. This marriage was to solidify an alliance between Lunaruz and Joscelin’s people, as Relta was heir to Lunaruz’s throne and “needed” a husband, supposedly.

Looking up at her future husband, she bowed to him, then stood as tall as she could with perfect posture. “An honor,” she informed him as she held out her hands for him to hold before the High Priestess of Queen Hera and a High Priest of Lady Aphrodite Areia.

[halfvvater]

the king had summoned LARYSSA of HOUSE FREY, LADY of THE TWINS to be judged upon their MEDDLESOME and PETULANT nature, under his justice as the ruler of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm. while they are notably QUICK - WITTED and SUPPORTIVE, many at court are at odds when it comes to their true nature and place in king’s landing, especially as they remind them of GIRLHOOD, THE SWEETEST ROTTING ACHE & DEFT HANDS PILLING COIN UPON COIN, CARELESSLY BUILT TOWERS OF INDULGENCE & DARK VEILS OF MOURNING CONCEALING GLINT IN SHALLOW POOL EYES. in another universe, far beyond the realms of the red keep, they would have been comparable to JULIA THE ELDER ( domina ) & ROHANNE WEBBER ( asoiaf ), of whom they share an almost uncanny resemblance to. as their true loyalty lies to HERSELF & LYSAERA TARGARYEN, when told of robert’s first rebellion, it was unsurprising how they were IMPARTIAL WITH the insurgence against the crown. with the tides rapidly shifting throughout the realm, there is no telling what fates have in store for them, as when you play the game of thrones, you live, or you die.

i.

full name: laryssa frey title: lady of the twins (by birth), tba (by marriage). alias(es): tba nicknames: lary, lyssa. age: eight and twenty birthdate: tba gender & pronouns: demi woman ; she / they. orientation: biromantic and sexual religion: the faith of the seven languages spoken: the common tongue, some high valyrian allegiance: herself, lysaera

ii.

notable features: big eyes, dimples when she smiles height: 5'2, 158 cm. build: curvaceous. eyes: green. hair: dark brown, nearly black; naturally straight, but wavy due to plaiting. she tends to wear it loose, half-up, adorned with bejeweled pins and most likely following the current fashion of court. during her marriage and her early widowhood, she wore her hair covered in veils of mourning. wardrobe: fashion is generally lavish, with intricate embroidery and rich fabrics; she prefers lively colors, in the shades of blue, pink, yellow. again, for several months now due to her widowhood, she has stuck to darker shades of blue and black, but dearly hopes to "liven it up" now she's back at court.

iii.

father: lord ryford bracken mother: lady lynda frey siblings: two ( all older ). marital status: widowed. children: none. pets: keeps several lap dogs, cats and horses; tba. relatives: house tully ( maternal cousins ), house bracken ( paternal cousins ).

iv.

abilities: none of supernatural value. moral alignment: tba positives: tba. negatives: tba. pass times: architecture, sketching, embroidery, astronomy, gossiping, shopping, dancing, horse riding. wields: knows how to use the crossbow and the bow and arrow but does not usually practice it outside of hunting. inspirations: julia the elder ( domina ), rohanne webber ( asoiaf ), elinor tyrell ( asoiaf ), genna lannister ( asoiaf ), conchita closson ( the buccaneers ).

v.

though one of the wealthiest and most powerful houses of westeros, the frey have often suffered from their reputation as lesser than. such a thing is now seen as something of the past, fact solified by the marriage of one of their daughters to house tully. yet, ruling lady lynda is cunning and well-aware there are yet steps for them to climb; though initially supportive of the rebellion due to the aforementioned blood line, the frey would, at the very end, turn their back on that and claim loyalty foremost to the targaryens, with lady lynda herself helping to barter her brother in law for his surrender to the dragons.

somehow amidst it all, the youngest frey's girlhood is spared. while thousands shake off the mud from their garnments, laryssa resumes life at the river's edge. when the frey are further honored by their timely smart, she is the one chosen to be brought to court. to be made lady in waiting to the princess, even at the beginning of her teenagehood, is exhilarating. in no time, she takes to court like duck to water and, though letters are exchanged often between herself and her relatives at the twins, she grows just a little too affectionated to the princess and her own, likening herself to them.

at fifteen, she receives her first engagement. it is struck by her parents but verified by the queen; such an honor should be enough to liften her spirits to the heavens but, when she hears of her bethroted's passing due to a case of the chills, she is gladdened she shall not have to leave court. alongside the princess, she learns all that seems befitting of a lady with a brighter future and, as she turns her loyalty to lysaera, she is quick to do her bidding, and that of the queen's; she learns how to hear, to create and spread rumors inconspicuously, enjoying to earn her place amongst the turbulation of the court.

several years later, when rumor of an indiscretion on her part reaches her mother's ears, happiness is chased to an end. belongings are packed and no pleading from any part will be heard; she is wedded within the year and kept within husband's keep. to say she hates it is an understanding. life as a wedded lady is a bore at best, and she misses court and those she had left behind there; she does little to try to reconcile with the fact, souring her union further. twice she falls pregnant, and twice she loses the babe until they stop trying to co-exist altogether. it is said she has learned old valyrian magic at court and no life can root in her belly nor love in her heart; the rumors content her, and she may have had a hand in spreading them herself.

one day, luck knocks on her door as her husband breaks his neck during a hunt. by then, she has learned how to put up a show, and acts the part of mournful wife. it's been six months since, and without any proof of quickening, she has received her dower money and quickly returned to court, back to lysaera. she's learned her parents intend to wed her again - - continuing to ensure their dues until there are no steps left to climb - - but she's trying to be confident she can be her own master. it is about time, after all.

[greywoodrpg]

𝕣𝕦𝕓𝕪 𝕕𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥

she appears as though she was born thirty-five years ago but is actually two hundred and nineteen, is a vampire, lives in acacia heights as the owner of celestials boutique, and is an advisor in sanguine liguria. she looks an awful lot like suki waterhouse. 

 "The story of a girl: You exited the womb and entered a war."

tw: sexism, arranged marriage, adultery, difficult pregnancy, abandonment

Born in 1806 during the height of the Napoleonic Wars, Ruby was born Duchess of Baden. Tensions were high amongst the Gottinberg family, torn between sides, but the Duchy always came first. Whatever would preserve power was the priority, and any sign of weakness was quickly stamped out. Ruby understood her role clearly in her family, she was to wed, forge a powerful alliance, of course, produce an heir. She paid close attention to her studies, particularly languages, and ensured she would excel in any future monarchy her parents thrusted her into. Obedience, however, did not mean that Ruby was entirely pleased with her situation. She was far more interested in what was happening on the frontlines and understanding the complex politics at play. She was savvy, but a woman’s voice was not respected and she didn’t dare share any of her more daring opinions out loud.  Her wedding was a dramatic, luxurious affair, as she had always predicted. Her husband was a Duke and thankfully, Gabriel was not cruel. He was dismissive, had many mistresses, and kept a close eye on her, but Ruby had also predicted that in her future. When you were observant and clever, royalty was cyclical. Ruby did all that she could to protect her image from Gabriel’s affairs and as she spent more time at their castle, she surrounded herself with thoughtful ladies in waiting, one of whom she took a very strong liking to. Anne was the smartest person Ruby had ever come across and it seemed as though they could talk for hours endlessly. Her passion for Anne grew quickly, although Ruby didn’t fully understand that what she felt was love. She always expected that ‘love’ was a falsehood, having never witnessed it growing up in the Duchy. Her affair with Anne was covert, and they never once spoke of fleeing the castle to be together. They both silently accepted their place in the world, and Anne seemed to respect Ruby’s love of the small amount of power she wielded in a world where women were looked down upon. Eventually, however, the time came where Ruby was required to produce an heir. Gabriel was gentle, but she couldn’t help feeling as though she were cheating on her lover. Pregnancy was not easy on Ruby and childbirth was far worse. Medicine wasn’t advanced, and with the amount of blood she lost, there was no chance of survival. The only person she requested by her side was Anne, and her family was locked behind a heavy door. The explanation came quickly, and to this day, Ruby doesn’t entirely remember the hushed conversation the pair had, but the end result was the same. Anne was a vampire and she bit and changed Ruby to save her life. The bond between Ruby and her sire was strong. She still deeply loved Anne, and Anne was patient with her as she taught her the ways of vampirism. Eventually, her maker abandoned her, and Ruby found that she liked the independence to do as she wished. The undead life suited her need for power. Throughout the years, Ruby collected memorabilia from all over Europe, souvenirs from some of her prolific victims and simply beautiful things that she loved. She was never one to deny herself of anything after she gathered the power to simply take it. Ah, how the roles reversed from when she was a human Duchess, bound to rules she despised. Ruby views immortality as a gift and has spent many, many years basking in it. But she’s aware that things in her life are missing. She liked having purpose, knowing what her destiny would be, and she frequently wondered what became of the child that she was forced to leave behind.  When she heard murmurs of Greywood, a town filled with people like her where hiding was no longer required, she immediately moved there, hoping to fill some of the holes in her heart.

“what power did she attain when settling in greywood?”

Ruby has the ability to dream walk and manipulate people’s dreams. Characters with magic can fight this off, however, if they choose to and have more will than she does.

penned by... ali

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Leila Beaulieu Species: Mare Occupation: Owner of The Party Thrifter Age: 224 Years Old (Looks about 28) Played By: Bee Face Claim: Alisha Wainwright

"I don’t see why I can’t be both scary and good. I’ve declared myself frightfully delightful and delightfully frightful, and I won’t be taking any further questions on the matter."

TW: Arranged marriage

Leila remembers dreams- vaguely remembers the feeling of dreaming. Those light, fluffy things that danced on the edge of the waking and sleeping world. The memories have grown a bit fuzzy at the edges, but she remembers her mother promising her that the sandman would come and give her sweet dreams if she was very good and went to sleep right away— a sweet sentiment. Over 200 years later, the simple mortal existence she once had has begun to feel like a dream itself. Something sweet, but seen through a fog.

Once upon a time, there was a girl full of dreams. She lived with her family at the edge of nowhere, on an orchard in King’s County, Nova Scotia. Her bedroom- the second door to the left at the top of the stairs- was littered with books and journals full of the dreams that filled her days and nights. They were her treasures. Her secrets. The worlds that she escaped into when the monotony of life on the orchard grew all too stifling and loneliness clung to her bones. Growing so far away from town made her an easy target for other children’s unkindness. She was the strange girl who would spin ridiculous stories and was scolded more often than not by teachers for being lost in thought. And so, as she grew, she kept to herself. And the dreams and stories she kept to herself grew with her. They grew and grew and grew…

They grew into a feast fit for a mare.

The nightmares started in her twenties. Other girls she knew were getting married, settling down, and staying put in the same place they had lived their entire lives with no intention of leaving. Other girls were falling into bed with their lovers. Leila was falling into bed with some monstrous thing. It stole the dreams right out of her head. It whispered cruel words in her ear, promising she’d always be alone. Alone, alone, alone… Always an outsider. Easily forgotten at best, scorned and mocked at worst. It lurked in the shadows of her room and the dark corners of her mind. It feasted on her dreams and left only dread.

Her parents had been the ones who arranged the engagement. Mr. Ralph Gauthier was not the future Leila had once dreamed of. He was old. He was dour. He was brutish. But he was interested when no one else was, and he had money at a time when her family needed it. Leila was not asked her opinion on Mr. Gauthier, and, as far as her parents were concerned, it kept her from suffering the embarrassment of being labeled an Old Maid, and spared her family the expense of a mouth to feed. No one seemed to notice or care that in the weeks leading up to her wedding, Leila seemed to become a shadow of her former self.

Perhaps it was out of some little bit of mercy that the mare did it. Maybe they tasted her dreams and knew what Leila wanted. Or maybe it was just that the feast was just too good to pass up. The night before her wedding, the mare that killed her had one final feast. It was the worst nightmare Leila ever had. With her dreams, they stole her breath and heartbeat. The next morning, Leila was dead.

A clock struck midnight, and Leila woke in her wedding gown, lying in state in her family’s parlor.

There was a strange ringing in her ears, and a growing emptiness clawing from deep within her. She stepped out into the night, walking the moonlit path toward town. She didn’t know why, but her feet seemed to guide her toward the inn where drink-sodden and travel-weary slumberers filled bed after bed. The woman found herself stumbling from bedside to bedside, dream to dream, leaving nightmares in her wake. Dreams were things that now had substance. They were little worlds in people’s minds that filled up the emptiness she was left with. By morning she was gone, the sun and fear for what she’d become chasing her as far as she could into the woods.

Weeks, months, and years passed. Moons rose and set. Leila found refuge in the dreams of others, stealing away the simple sweetness for her own survival. She moved about place to place, finding those she deemed a worthy feast and leaving them to their nightmares. But the dreams didn’t give her purpose. They didn’t give her the life she had once dreamed of. She was still alone, just as the mare had promised her in those nightmares of another life.

Wicked’s Rest was originally supposed to be a stop-between. She’d had no intention of staying longer than a night or two at most before leaving. But then there was them. Her dreamer. She hadn’t cared about a dreamer in so, so long, but there was something about this one that called out to her. Maybe they reminded her of someone she was- or wished she had been- so very long ago. Their dreams were laced with something dark… That knowledge alone startled her. Thought of this person and their dreams followed her like a daydream. Plagued her like a nightmare- her! The giver of nightmares! She tried to ignore it, tried to ignore them, but no matter what she did, she always found her way back into their dreams.

The once dreamer, now giver of nightmares, has decided to help. She doesn’t exactly know how yet… but she has to. If not for them, then for herself. For the girl she had once been before she became something of shadows and fear.

Maybe, just maybe, helping them might grant her a little rest.

Character Facts:

Personality: Curious, independent, warm, impulsive, fanciful, indulgent

Leila has changed her names over the years, but prefers to stick with the same initials. It’s a little safer to socialize in the daylight if she doesn’t always have the same name and face stretching over the decades. Things would look weird if that happened… It’s been so long now, though. She’s gone back to her original name. Leila Estelle Beaulieu.

She has a box of strange little trinkets she’s collected over the years. Most people would probably define the things inside as trash. Extremely old spoons, a watch that died at least a hundred years ago, ticket stubs from the first production of a play or a musical, some very dead flowers- but she can tell you the story behind any one of them. 

If you need a good outfit or a good disguise, go to Leila. She’s got a trunk full of clothing from just about every decade she’s lived in (-save the 80s. She didn’t like the 80s…), all in pristine condition. She will play dress up with you for hours. She looks pretty good for a dead girl.

The level of nightmare depends on the person. Some little bit of humanity that clings to her insists that if she’s going to steal dreams and give nightmares, then the worst nightmares should be reserved for the worst people she encounters. Everyone needs a nightmare now and then, and she still does take dreams from average people. But sometimes, she likes to serve a little supernatural justice and scare the ever living shit out of people who simply deserve it. 

She has gone pretty much everywhere and anywhere she could in North and South America the last two hundred years. But she still has places she wants to see. Specifically: She wants to go abroad. She has a book called 1001 Places To See Before You Die and even though she is already dead, she does want to go to every single one of them. 

She is an eternal disaster pansexual. She has fallen for many a person over the years, but it’s very rare she acts on it, simply because her existence is so complicated. That, and it’s very rare that she finds someone who sees her as something lovable. After all, who loves nightmares?

[one-abuse-survivor]

Hey there, I just came here to vent a bit.

So basically, I'll just recap what's going on at home. I won't specify my age, but I am between 11 to 15 years old. My mom and dad had an arranged marriage (it's reasonably normal from what I know where I live) and have always had marital problems. My dad is also a smoker, a habit which my mom /detests/, and he also smokes substances such as weed pretty often. My mom is a little bit unstable emotionally, she's never been diagnosed with anything, but she tends to have extreme mood swings. I can remember them fighting even when I was way younger, 4 or 5 years old maybe, but I don't remember anything from before that age range, other than small flashbacks.

My mother also used to hit me, and again, physically punishing children is also sort of normal here.

Anyways, since the pandemic started, things have been getting... Heated, to say the least. It's been a slow descent of my dad getting worse and worse with his smoking. My mom doesn't like that, but now they fight more openly in front of me.

To be quite frank, I hate my parents. My mom comes running to me for comfort, and is always venting to me.

For example, around a week ago, on Saturday night, my mom fought with my dad, it was 8 pm, and her and I were getting ready to go downstairs in our apartment complex, for a walk or for me to spend time with some friends if they were downstairs. She was fighting with my dad while I was changing my clothes, and as soon as I came out of my room, she started yelling at me. After we left our house, she was yelling at me the whole elevator ride. She said I had the *my dad's last name* blood. She said some pretty hurtful things, but I can't remember it, it was all a blur. After we reached the ground floor, she started taking rounds around the apartment, and I sneaked into the staircase of the block I live in. I climbed to the second or third floor, and cried. I just cried. It hurt, and everything piled on top of each other and I hated everything so so much. Throughout this i was on this discord server of people I had met via a manga, and they were the ones who helped me actually realise how fucked up my family situation is. I kept texting. Now, near these staircases had a window halfway covered with railings, and the window was pretty long and wide, i realised i could fit through it. It even had a ledge large enough to stand on. At that moment, i genuinely wanted to hurl myself off the building. I wasn't actually going to do it, but god, it was so so tempting. My mom called, and asked why she hadn't seen me walk around the apartment. I lied and said I was walking in a certain area of the building. The minute my phone started ringing, I ran down the stairs and used some shortcuts to get to that area, and i walked a bit further. My eyes were free and puffy, i hoped no one would notice and i played some music and walked. She later went up to our horse and called me up asking if I could come get some diesel for our car. Ten minutes later she comes down and we go to our car. She tries to make small talk with me and we get to the topic of my dad. She just went on and on venting about him, saying stuff like

"At this exact turn, your father hit me last year on our anniversary night."

It went on for twenty minutes, we got to the petrol bunk and then got me ice cream.

They also never respect my personal boundaries, I am uncomfortable with hugging and kissing them, but they continuously pull me in for a tight hug and pepper my face with kisses. I hate it, and they don't seem to understand that I am very uncomfortable with it.

I get that this ask is getting rather long, but to save some space, here is a Google docs link of everything I've vented in that discord server, which is the closest thing to a safe space I have.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1bTiYdI5k_E-6HZwoR8V3rXMWBAcGPGLKg2JrLsMvHI4/edit?usp=sharing

Also, I have reached out to my school counselor, and we have weekly sessions, but I am scared that it won't end up okay, so I came here for some advice. What would you suggest I do?

Thanks for listening,

Rin.

Hey there, Rin. I'm sorry I took so long to reply! Hope you see this anyway. And please, let me know if you want me to delete this ask at any point for privacy reasons, especially because of the Google doc (and the fact you've updated it since you sent this ask). I've not read all of it, but I skimmed it, and I'm really sorry you've had to go through so much.

Your parents sound horrible, and I know you've said that hitting your children is commonplace where you live (so much so that even teachers normalise it), but I really hope you know that just because something is socially acceptable it doesn't mean it isn't abusive. I really hope you know what you're going through is emotional, physical, and verbal abuse, as well as control. You never deserved to be hit, or yelled at, or belittled, or touched when you don't want to be touched, or used as an emotional punching bag for your parents' problems. You don't deserve any of this 😔

Your ask actually reminded me a lot of how I felt when I was around 14-15, and I just really want you to know you aren't alone in your trauma and your pain, and you deserve to be taken seriously. And I also want you to know things can get better. Life won't always feel like this.

The advice I can give you right now is limited, because you're still really young and cutting out your parents/putting physical distance between you and them isn't possible at the moment. But I would definitely recommend continuing to document the things they do to you if it's safe for you to do so, and reaching out to trusted adults who can help you gain safety, like teachers and counselors. There's also the option of reaching out to your friends' parents if they're good people, or to your extended family, especially if there's anyone in it who's known for being the "black sheep" or who you know will share your beliefs that you shouldn't, you know, abuse your children.

I also want you to know that it's not your responsibility to fix your parents, or to put in the effort to make them not abusive. None of this is your fault. You don't have control over their actions or decisions; and their abuse is their decision, and not something you've caused. Please try to remember this if they make you feel like it's your fault they're yelling at you, hitting you or mistreating you in any other way.

Other than that, my advice is to just hold on. I know adulthood is still years away, and I know the idea of leaving behind a situation like this can feel extremely overwhelming, and the idea of being okay afterwards completely unfathomable. But I just want you to know you don't have to have it all figured out right now. Right now, it's enough if you just survive. Another year, another month, another day, another hour. By whatever means: whether that's venting to people you can trust or holding on to books and shows you like or anything else. Right now, surviving is enough. And, one day, you'll be able to handle the rest.

You're welcome for listening! Feel free to let me know how you're doing. Sending all my support your way ❤️

[ofcommonrooms]

" angels would damn themselves for me "

( renée rapp, 19, cis woman, she&her ) hey, is that NARCISSA BLACK wandering the halls without a companion? the FIFTH YEAR is getting bold. and here I thought the SLYTHERIN was always more confident, intelligent, & protective. but then they are also known to be conceited, self-centered, & aloof, so maybe that makes sense. these hard times are enough to change anybody, I suppose. and did you hear people are saying they’re in THE KNIGHTS? rumors fly when people are cooped up.  here, I’ll show you — NARCISSA always reminded me of the glimmer of sun reflecting off a mirror, black patent stilettos, powder on the end of a brush, earl grey tea, vanilla beans, pressed flowers, a music box with a squeaky hinge charmed to be perfect, the scent of an old book, French music, Latin books, tulle skirts, starry nights, satin dresses, pressed flowers, a silver dagger hidden a garter belt and I’ve heard THAT VAPID PERSONALITY SHE WEARS SO WELL IS A FACADE. let’s hope the PUREBLOOD doesn’t get attacked by the beast. or let’s at least hope that rumor doesn’t get back to them before they do.

------ graphic credit | @sorberts [ HERE ]

CONTENT WARNING(S) FOR THIS SECTION: SNAKES

full name ;; narcissa irma black

age ;; 19

house ;; slytherin

boggart ;; narcissa would love to say that it was something almighty and selfless, but her boggart takes the shape of herself, in absolutely deplorable conditions. ratty hair, dirt on her nose, clothing in pieces. she's worked her entire life to cling to her family's fortune - nothing scared her more than losing it.

patronus ;; on the exceedingly rare occasion that she produces a Patronus, it takes the form of a snake.

favorite spell ;; Petrificus Totalus - a relatively consequence free way of getting the last word. Just petrify them! However, she's also a fan of passing notes in class using Aparecium.

amortentia ;; a field of daffodils, the air of the Amalfi Coast and Lucius' cologne 'the pasta her nanny made when she was a child.'

wand ;; 

—- wood ; elm wood | Elm wands prefer owners with presence, magical dexterity and a certain native dignity. Of all wand woods, elm, in my experience, produces the fewest accidents, the least foolish errors, and the most elegant charms and spells; these are sophisticated wands, capable of highly advanced magic in the right hands (which makes it highly desirable to those who espouse the pure blood philosophy).

—- core ; phoenix tail feather | This is one of the rarest core types. Phoenix feathers are capable of the greatest range of magic, though they may take longer than either unicorn hair or dragon heartstring cores to reveal this. They show the most initiative, sometimes acting of their own accord, a quality that many witches and wizards dislike.

—- length ; 10 inches

playlist ;; [ HERE ]

pinboard ;; [ HERE ]

Content Warnings for this Section: PARENTAL CONFLICT / ARRANGED MARRIAGE / SEXISM

It was cold the day Narcissa Irma Black was brought into the world. It seemed prophetic, almost, noting the icy heart the girl would grow to have. She came out quietly, without too many cries and even as the Healers washed her off gently she was soft. Soft in her appearance - surprising blonde hair which was a stark difference to that of her sisters and parents and cheeks that held a blush of their own and would for the years to come. Soft in her expression - equal parts afraid and curious at once. Soft in her noises - small baby coos passed her plump pink lips as the last of the blood was wiped off of her body. Upon the announcement that Druella Black had given birth to another girl, Cygnus chose to turn the other way, storming towards his office rather than in to meet his daughter. Yet Druella held Narcissa Black in her arms, staring at her with a plan sparkling behind her eyes. She could barely even open her own eyes by the time her mother was planning the future her little girl would have. Because power, overt and strong like that which Cygnus so desperately wanted, was important. But an understated power - the kind that came with being underestimated while simultaneously being placed on a pedestal - that was what the dark-haired woman saw when she looked into the soft eyes of her daughter. 

And that was exactly what Narcissa Black became. Molding herself into the strict and unbending expectations her mother had for her. She sat there while her hair was curled and allowed her outfits to be chosen for her. She curtsied and nodded as was deemed necessary and as her mother had predicted, the pedestal she built for her youngest daughter seemed as high as she'd hoped it would be. The problem with being held up so high is that there is a very long way to fall, and while the Pureblood society practically idolized the gorgeous girl, many were waiting for her to crumble. But there were many conversations between Druella and her prodigal daughter. Conversations where she continued drilling into her how good she was. How she was perfect and beautiful and that the world wasn't going to be ready for the powerhouse she could be beneath curled eyelashes and pretty pink polished nails.

As she entered Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat exclaimed "SLYTHERIN" before being placed on her head. And she knew, of course she knew that's where she'd be. Everyone in Hogwarts knew that's where she'd be. What they didn't know, what nobody knew, was the monster of a girl she hid behind her demure facade. The girl inside knew how much she was worth and she knew that if she used her strengths as well as her mother had taught her to she would be unstoppable. And her mother had taught her well. So well, in fact, that Cygnus Black himself stood impressed before his daughter at times, listening as she spoke clearly and concisely, reaching points with a kind of precision that was hard to find even in skilled politicians and socialites. Being the youngest daughter brought no extra praise from the man, but having the skills he would have valued in a son did earn at least a bit of his respect. So she tried and tried and kept trying. Her sisters, Bellatrix and Andromeda, were the two most important things in her life and the reason she tried so hard. It was the only way she could think of to protect the two of them, because if she met every standard Druella tried pushing on her, perhaps that would keep her from pushing those impossible pressures onto Narcissa's sisters. And maybe she wasn't strong in a lot of ways but she'd always been strong in that way, not only meeting but exceeding the dreams Druella had for her. 

It came as a surprise to no one when it was announced she would be marrying Lucius Malfoy. Since birth they'd known, honestly. The two beautiful well-mannered Purebloods whose children would be beautiful - why wouldn't they end up together? Why would she be able to make her own decisions when she never had before? But Narcissa had always given her all to the things she was told to do, following the rules she was given without a second thought. She never stopped to think of the impact it may have on her future, because of her mother told her to do it she would do it. So she abandoned the ideas of the fairytales she'd hidden beneath her floorboard as a child. Abandoned the idea that she might be the princess who gets her prince one day. After all, she told herself every morning as she slid her lip gloss on, she was already a princess. At least that's what everyone told her she was. 

O N E ;; In evenings of utmost desperation, Narcissa sometimes delves into her collection of Muggle fairytales. She hides them in a box beneath a blanket beneath a hex that hides it from sight, beneath her floorboards. She wasn't sure growing up whether she would ever have a happy ending, so filling that void with imaginary tales of Cinderella and Rapunzel made that an easier truth to swallow.

T W O ;; Narcissa can speak 6 different languages, and understand 10. Growing up, Druella instructed her that men don't like smart women, society will always underestimate you, let them, stand idly by in rooms where conversations are being held and listen, because they won't see you as enough of a threat or concern to hold their tongues. So, while she may consciously fail an answer or two in History of Magic, she has spent her entire life learning languages to eavesdrop on conversations that important people assumed her too daft to digest.

T H R E E ;; When things start to become harrowing, Narcissa studies Healing in secret. I've always imagined that the Malfoy Manor becomes somewhat of a safe house for the side of the Purebloods, and have a vivid image of one of the Knights of Walpurgis lying injured on one of their kitchen counters as Narcissa Heals them, due to her steadfast loyalty to her friends, and streak of protectiveness.

F O U R ;; Narcissa is incredibly skilled at Occlumency, and has been practicing since she was a First Year. While she's not as good at Legilimency, she's starting to study that. This HC is based off of the fact that on multiple occasions it's implied that her mind was unable to be breached by Voldemort.

F I V E ;; Narcissa has been a ballet dancer since she was young - another obligation Druella pushed her into (it's distinguished, Narcissa, it's impressive, it's something that wealthy families pride themselves on), but this was one that Narcissa dearly loved. After a particularly impressive recital, Druella gifted her a music box with a ballerina in it that's charmed to dance independently whenever the box is opened, and "sleeps" whenever the box is shut.

LUCIUS ;; The pair has been 'betrothed' since childhood. A match made in heaven for the couple's parents, surely. Growing up, the visual of her parents' marriage was loveless at best, so Narcissa braced herself for a future just the same. However, Narcissa nursed a schoolgirl crush on the boy as a child, unsure if it was genuine, or manifested out of wishful thinking. As time has gone by, Narcissa can confidently say - not due to any desperation to actually love the man she was set to marry - she'd fallen hard. Until Draco is born, he's the most important person in her life.

BELLATRIX & ANDROMEDA ;; Dynamics tbd !

BEST FRIEND ;; A close confidant, someone to paint her nails with in their dorm and gossip about other people until late into the night. She's very guarded, and likely wouldn't bare all of her qualms to this person, but she still feels closer to them than most.

PROTECTORS ;; I always imagine that some of the other Knights of Walpurgis are somewhat protective of Narcissa? When you earn her loyalty, it's truly undying, so if there are any Knights who want to be a little guard dog, please know you will also be receiving Very Mean Chihuahua Narcissa who's ready to pounce on anyone who wrongs you, as well (though sometimes that's exactly what gets her in these situations where she needs a little backup)

ARCH NEMESIS ;; Okay, maybe that's a little dramatic, but the pair bickers nonstop - this person probably bests Narcissa in just about every subject and might just hold that over her head, which causes Narcissa to steam because she's 'so much smarter than any of these stupid people even realize' - drama and pettiness ensures

[ladybyakuya]

| WHITE DRESS + JING YUAN.

+cw. — f!reader, established relationship, arrange marrige, fluff, pining, banter, teasing, suggestive content , mention of feixiao :D

+wc. — 1k

+syn.— a peek in general Jing Yuan's married life with you.

+notes. —can be read as stand-alone but if you wish to read the other parts can be found in my masterlists | redirect to blog navigation.

Jing Yuan had a very mundane morning routine before you walked into his life. That’s how he used to keep his sanity at bay. Being the General of Xianzhou Alliance's Cloud Knights for centuries, fighting and protecting his people he had rather grown comfortable in it. He is just too used to zone uproars and war turbulence but it has been peaceful for a while. He likes that. That’s why he is taking it easy. But when you came into his life he was on edge again. He has something to protect, something belonging only to him. It was like walking on a wire again. Surprisingly, you filled the boring gaps in his mundane morning routine.

Jing Yuan wakes up at seven o’clock in the morning, like he usually does but he is naked under sheets ever since he got you as a wife but that is not the case on all days. But often he wakes up to an empty bed running his hands on your side of the bed with a soft smile over his face that has a warmth of morning dews because he gets to spend the whole night with you after work. It’s not easy to have this abundance of mundanity for a man of such power, wealth, status, and responsibilities. He is more happy than he was before. He waters the plants, sinks in the lap that nature has to offer, and then gets ready for work— and that is when he first sees you. He used to wear his armor all alone before he married you, thinking that if he died people would mourn him, people would miss him, people would remember him but that is all they will do for the rest of the generals too. He is not something special. But with you in his life, he feels special. He has someone to come home to, someone who would be too devastated to live if he died on the battlefield. He does not do anything except coordinate his movements so that you can easily put on his suit but there are days when he throws tantrums. The whole corridor gets filled with giggles on days like that, your giggles especially.

“Wait,” Jing Yuan grabs you pulling you into his body. His hands immediately lock you in an embrace. “Let me take a good look at my wife.” This. This few minutes where there are no lingering staffs or any sort if interruption is an absolute bliss for him. He touches his forehead with yours as you refuse to look at him, playing with the brooch on his collar. He knows you feel shy at first. He always have to get you a little worked up to be comfortable but that denotes him off because it might be just a kiss to you but he is going to think of it for the rest of his day, wide awake— no dull moment in his life. You are the cure to his boredom. Despite such yeaning agony swelling in his heart, his lips wrap around yours. It's wet, coated with longing. One of your palms moves under his jaw and he knows his time is up. He pulls away with a groan. 

“I’ll set the table, yeah?” you mumble unlocking his hands easily now. If you hadn’t given in so easily like how you used to he would have ended up having you cave in to his cravings before he goes to work. Yeah! That’s how he is. You leave him in the room to get to work as thinks back to one of his most fond memories of you. Ever since he caught you having a midnight snack alone in the kitchen after few months of marriage,he demands to eat the food cooked by you. It was one hell of a night. It wasn’t the sex that set this night apart from others. Sex was good, of course, but amongst those dim lights, when you were busy stuffing your mouth with the food you freshly cooked as he stood beside you holding the plate for you, all he wanted was to protect you, your happiness, and your sadness — everything related to you.  

Jing Yuan sits to dine as the staff sets the table while you stand aside keeping rapt attention if anything is amiss. “Wait! you forgot something. he calls you out. You tilt your head and wait as he adds, “a kiss!” You immediately look around to see if any of the staff heard your husband or not but now they are all gone. They know better than you. Did he really forgot what happened in the dressing room? You saunter towards the table thinking its better just to give in rather resist; as you stand by his side, and lean to place a dry kiss on his cheek and then you turn on your heel to walk away.

“Just on my cheek?” Jing Yuan enquires with surprise in his tone as he stops you by grabbing your hand. Finally, you chuckle— ah! what a time to be alive. 

“Feixiao is waiting. I got her message.” You sit on his lap encapsulating your free arm around his shoulder while he refuses to let to of your other hand. “I have already made her favorites. Your too, love— He kisses your hand as you keep going on— and it's packed. I do have a lot to do today. The staff are getting lazy. . . ” Ah! He remembers how you were so silent during the first few months of marriage. Not that he is complaining but he is just. . .blessed to see this side of you. He does not particularly fancy sweets yet is but he feels nauseous at this point since you are too sweet for him. Oh! How can he ever deny you? He can deny sweets but not you.

You feel the gaps of your fingers being filled by his fingers. “can we stay like this a while longer?” Jing Yuan asked as he kisses the back of your hand. 

“You know we can’t.” You watch him pout a bit so you are compelled to add, “Come home soon.”

[konigsblog]

arranged marriage with older!farmer!könig 🔞

tw/cw; age difference, arranged marriage au, non-con/dub-con, forced impregnation/breeding, dead dove: do not eat.

to say you felt betrayed would be an understatement.

your parents had sold you to the rich farmer of the village. they'd tell you it was for your own benefit, so you could live a happy, wealthy life with a responsible, loyal man—but deep down, you knew they had done it for some quick, easy money.

you found it hard to adjust to your new life. you didn't like the wedding at all; you were forced to kiss a man you'd never met before, someone a decade or so older than you. he's perverted with a corrupted and sadistic mindset, trying to get into your panties constantly for a little bit of fun, he'd say, the truth being to hopefully impregnate you with his offspring.

although könig could only accept being rejected and turned down so many times before he couldn't help himself. he wouldn't hesitate to pin you down and fill you regardless; you were made aware of that from the very start. perhaps you just didn't believe he'd ever stoop so low and treat you like a human incubator, fucking you until you were forcefully impregnated with his babies.

it didn't matter if you squirmed or how loudly you weeped; you were hushed and silenced with each thrust, leaving you frozen in place. you couldn't scream or cry out for mercy and forgiveness anymore. you were quickly reduced to a cock slave, made to take his meaty cock and potent load. your body was weak by the end of it; your thighs were bloodied, and your cunt was swollen.

könig forced you to push any ideas of university or college out of your silly head. that wasn't your purpose. your purpose was to serve könig and fulfil him with loving, chubby babies that he could coo over and hold gently.

nobody would believe you if you switched; not even you could believe that this was the same man who had raped you into silence, so loving and gentle with his newlywed, pregnant wife.

[backinmyphase]

Not my mother

Synopsis: As Gojo Satoru's wife you are most of the time alone at home and you have made your peace with that. However a visit from your mother in law results in a pleasant surprise. Well, not for him as he meets your mother.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 4300 words Masterlist

Contains: arranged marriage, generational trauma, jujutsu Clans suck, reader's mom is a warning alone, talking about drugging a person, dark implications

A/n: Sorry for the long wait again! This chapter just seemed especially hard to write :') As usual just say if you want to be tagged and feel free to comment any thoughts regarding this post, it always makes my day. Enjoy!

"Satoru, do you like your family?"

Once in a while there are thoughts that pop up in your head, questions about your husband, that you are just slipping out of your mouth. After all you two didn't really have much time together. Question because of time away from him. So much time.

You sit with him at the breakfast table, the big table now not used anymore, just a little one where you sit opposite of each other. Now you can fully see how he is taken by surprise. How his eyebrows rise. And how his lips...

In the last days you really had strange thoughts.

"Do you?"

You stopped eating for a second, now realizing what kind of question that is. Someone else would think the answer had to be obvious. But when your family is a Clan it seems so strange to talk about it as 'family'.

"I... Do. I think." your voice was nothing more than a whisper.

He looked at you with these eyes that seemed to look right through you. And even though you didn't think you were lying, you didn't know if it was the truth either.

Then he shrugged.

"If I'm being honest, I don't really. I don't really see them as family. They are just people I'm representing." he chews for a bit, but then stops. "You know, they didn't treat me as family either. So I guess I never saw them as it."

He looked up with an almost apologetic look. "Too cold?"

"What? No!" you shook your head. "I'm the one asking. I'm happy with the honest answer."

"And you know," you fidgeted with your ring. The feeling of it cold, heavy. "I get what you mean. In fact I think you described my feelings really well."

He looked at you like always when he didn't really get what you meant but didn't want to ask. But this morning you dropped the topic of family as he had to go on missions and you... Had to get rid of your boredom with other ways.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

"So I am free for half of the day?" Satoru couldn't believe as he heard the news from Yaga.

"Not really. There's just someone who requested a meeting with you. And you have to go Gojo, I don't want to hear any excuses." Yaga had still that tone like when Gojo was his student. And somehow it was still working.

"Yeah, yeah. When is it?"

"Just read the formula I gave you!" he sighed. "It's in half an hour."

"Okay, okay." Satoru looked back at the formula Yaga gave him, wondering why he had to go to their house of this person for a meeting they requested, but sure.

He was slightly annoyed he couldn't just go home to you.

Since last week the only thing on his mind when he went on missions was how and when he got back to his wife. Even though he wished he had more free time with you, it was calming to just have a regular evening talk with you.

No pressure, no higher-ups. Just talking.

You had such a pretty smile and he was such an idiot to make you not smile so freely before. He couldn't believe how easily you have forgiven him. Because he sure hasn't. Everytime he saw you sleep on the couch when he came back he felt bad. Like he was still not doing enough.

Since when did he feel like he wasn't doing enough?

He still had to learn so much about you. How to make you laugh regularly and what was your favorite food. And how not to make you angry or sad. Because that was something he wanted to avoid by all costs.

He looked at the address and it did seem familiar. But he didn't remember from where. But somewhere in the back of his mind, something was telling him that this seemed like an obvious trap.

But he didn't want to piss of his old teacher.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

The Gojo mansion was warming up to you. Even though it was often still empty and cold, you did find the garden and library endearing.

But you missed Satoru.

Without him this house still didn't feel like home, no matter how many books you started to read or how many facts Hina told you about the plants in the garden.

Whenever he came back in the evening the time was always passing so fast. Sometimes you just wanted to have a new honeymoon without the pressure. Just him and time. After all, you never went to that restaurant.

But wishing and thinking of what if's wasn't a good pass of the time. You still had to build your own life.

Oftentimes you went into the kitchen to watch the work of the chefs and chat with them, but today you didn't feel like it. You didn't want to admit it but you were bored.

The hours alone at home were eating you up. When you distracted yourself from your anxious thoughts regarding the Clan matter, the boredom came. Maybe you were just not cut out to be a stay at home wife. Or maybe you grew too lazy. Oh, what would your mother say when she would see you complaining? She would eat you up.

You strolled through the mansion alone, wondering again why the big house was so empty. No old pictures of Gojo or anything like that. Why?

And as you went to the garden, you couldn't help but sigh at your lack of tasks and-

"Of course he didn't get a gardener! Even though I have told him for months! Always just a little boy with too much-"

You couldn't move as you looked at the woman who sat between the lilies. Speechless because the last time you saw her was on your wedding day as your mother ranted about her and her son.

Mrs. Gojo had such a strong presence.

Even when she was just ranting about her son.

"Oh my!" her eyes lit up as she spotted you. And even though they didn't have the color of the ones your husband had, they had the same light and crinkle when they were excited.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?" she got up, cleared her very expensive looking dress and slowly strutted towards to you. "I haven't seen you in such a long time!"

"Pleasure meeting you again." you bowed your head a bit, you still had to be careful in the presence of your mother in law. "But I didn't know you would visit today Mrs. Gojo?"

"Oh please drop the formals!" she shook her head and for the first time she really smiled. Like a real sincere smile. "We are both Mrs. Gojo now, aren't we? You can call me Ayaka."

"If you say so Mrs- I mean Ayaka." she nodded approvingly while having an amused glint in her eyes. "Ayaka, I wasn't informed you would come to visit. Is there a something you want to discuss with Satoru? If so he is at work-"

She laughed and shook her head. "Oh I know don't worry. I'm not here for him. I'm tending the garden. Once in a month I come here to make sure the Gojo garden isn't forgotten. The boy seemed to forget his mother the moment she wasn't living here anymore."

"Oh." now as she mentioned it, you never saw anyone in the garden tending the flowers before. You just assumed there was someone who did it, because... Well it was Gojo's garden.

"Do you like it?" Your mother in law pointed at the lila flowers that were blooming in the center of all the flowers. "I planted those Hydrangeas at your wedding day. They seem to bloom very well."

"Oh, yeah. They are very beautiful." It was calming to watch those flowers dance in the wind.

"Do you have fresh tea?" Gojo's mother held her head high, her hands intertwined at waist height as she looked at you. "I would like to drink one with you."

Perplexed you blinked at her. "I think we do. Is there a special occasion?"

"Oh, you know." she gently took your arm, intertwining it with her own as she took steady steps towards the mansion. "I just want to talk with my daughter in law about her and her husband."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

The mansion, which had the address, wasn't the biggest. But it was big enough Satoru knew it had to be of a Clan.

Now, Meetings with other Clans weren't unusual. In fact they were a remaining part of his childhood. But most of the time the Clan came to him and it was planned weeks prior.

There were no plants outside, no decorations.

Satoru walked with slow, steady steps. He couldn't afford to be caught of guard. And even though this was just a meeting he felt cursed energy from somewhere in the mansion.

He rang and waited.

One. Two. Three.

Should he ring again? Or should he just go home to you-

A maid opened the door, her eyes widening as she saw him. "Gojo Satoru?"

"Yeah?" what was with that reaction? "I was ordered here for a meeting." But in reality no one should order him around-

"Oh yes. But the lady of the house is busy right now." she opened the door far enough for him to step inside. "Let me show you the room of the meeting and serve you tea while you wait."

He didn't want to be here. It felt like a bad horror movie and his gut told him he should tell Yaga that he couldn't attend such meetings. But he didn't want another higher-up at his doorstep, so he did step in.

The mansion had a couple of pictures. People he didn't know looking at him with such stone cold faces. Who would want that kind of picture?

The hallway was long, multiple doors were passed as he followed the maid.

And then there was that door.

He knew. There was the cursed energy he felt. It wasn't a normal amount. It had such a presence, it had to be a curse of some sort. Or a curse user.

No matter what, his gut wanted him to rip the door open and end it.

"Mr. Gojo?" the maid wasn't pleased he stopped in his tracks. No, in fact she looked a bit frightened. "The appointment room is a couple doors down there."

"Is it?" he looked at the wooden door before him and wondered what this 'lady' wanted from him. And why she had this much cursed energy in one of her rooms.

"Then let's keep going."

It wasn't for long, when he followed the maid into a small room. It had a table ready with cups.

"I will serve tea as you are waiting." the maid was already hurrying to get out.

"Wait! I don't need tea right now." she stopped at the doorframe and looked at him.

And she had that eerily smile. "But my lady insists."

With that she turned around and left him alone. What in the world was that? This whole thing was becoming more and more weird with the second he spend here. But he did sat down at the table.

However he didn't touch the tea that was him served.

The room he was in was kinda spooky. It didn't have anything precisely unusual in it, but the atmosphere was killing him.

There were medals and certificates on the walls. Some flowers were put underneath like it was meant to show pride. But if they would really be proud there wouldn't be any dust on these highly things.

He didn't wait for long. But maybe that wouldn't have been so bad.

The door opened and an older woman stepped in, which seemed familiar. Her stern look and cold gaze gave him a shiver. She stepped at the table and sat down on the opposite of him.

"Apologies for my late appearance." she fetched herself a cup of tea. Her cup was decorated with gold which simmered in the light. But behind that shimmer he didn't miss the side eye she gave him. "I wasn't expecting you following an invite."

"What is that supposed to mean?" who did this woman think she was? He was still Satoru Gojo. And normally people respected him for that.

She took a long sip and somehow that made him shut up. She placed her cup carefully on the table and smiled at him. But something about that smile made him uneasy. "You haven't touched your tea, have you Mr. Gojo?"

"No, I haven't." he glanced at his untouched cup. It wasn't as fancy as hers.

"Is the cup offending you?" she seemed to have followed his glance. "If it is, my apologies but in one of our last meetings with the Gojo Clan one of our family cups has been destroyed. Forgive me for being hesitant to give one to the likes of you again."

Oh, this woman knew how to piss someone of. "In one of the last meetings with the Gojo Clan? I can't remember such a meeting."

At that she smiled fully while her eyes somehow became more icy. "You can't, can't you?"

Something wasn't adding up. Satoru had to be at every meeting his Clan had. He was the head of the Clan for a reason. Did he skip a meeting? But then he had to catch up the meeting. So what was he forgetting?

He felt her gaze on him as he tried to remember any solution to this. She was smiling as she watched him frown.

"The meetings with the Gojo Clan were rather a  success, you know? I had hoped to strengthen the relationship of our Clans." she took another sip. "Well, it is still left to be desired."

"I'm sorry," he didn't want to dance around the question any longer. This woman was obviously looking down on him right now and he couldn't stand it. And even though he couldn't place a name to the face, it seemed so strangely familiar. "But have we met before?"

She placed her cup on the table with force. "Well, we did see each other on a rather big occasion, but I am not mad at you for forgetting me."

Something in the room shifted as she stood up and opened the door again. "Shihiro? Our guest hasn't touched his tea. Could you bring another cup and fresh tea, please?"

He heard a muffled voice agreeing and steps running away from the room. "I really don't need any tea."

She sat down again carefully while making sure not to knock something over. "But it is our duty and our sign for hospitality! I insist."

And just like that the tea inside his cup was warm again. His gut was killing him, but under her gaze he did take a small sip out of the cup of tea.

It tasted... Bitter.

"Well, you are probably wondering why I have called you here." she looked slightly satisfied. And for the first time he seemed to remember this woman.

She was the one who gave him that icy look at his wedding. She was the one sawing him leave. The one who tsked at his doing and only raised an eyebrow as he saw her.

"I wanted to talk with my son in law about his wife and their marriage."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

"Lovely weather, isn't it?"

She was right. The sun was shining and the wind was not too strong. While sitting here on the balcony, you had an amazing view of the garden from above.

"Yeah it is." The tea was a bit warmer and sweeter than the tea you knew and normally drank. You liked it.

Ayaka had talked with the cooks in the kitchen, you didn't know about what but you heard much laughter. Their voices seemed so much louder than before, the whole estate so much more lively with her here.

"I always spent my time in the garden and kitchen when I lived here, you know?" she sighed dreamily. "Especially with that weather."

Her posture was screaming authority. Elegance and experience. However her arms weren't tense, they seemed like they were open.

"Do you like it here?"

There it was. You were ready for this question, ready to calm all her possible worries.

"I do. I'm glad I was so lucky to marry Sat-"

She chuckled and shook her head. "That's not what I meant. Do you like it here?"

She seemed amused at your dumbfounded face. You watched as she took another sip. You looked at the beautiful garden which had so many flowers you adored every day. Hina, who was bringing another teapot with fresh tea.

"I do." carefully, you took your teacup. "It's calming here."

She was watching you as you took another sip. Her small smile never leaving. She leaned a bit forward, her arms bow crossed but somehow still seemed open.

"But.." you placed the teacup on the table. "It's also too calm sometimes."

Hesitant you looked at the older woman sitting in front of you. "Do you know what I mean?"

A pleasant breeze surprised you, the teacups shaking a bit. Ayaka leaned now slowly back again, in her hand her teacup.

"When Satoru was little.." her eyes were locked on her tea. "He always wanted to go outside. He didn't like the mansion, the kitchen or the garden. After he was born I was always kept moving."

She sighed and closed her eyes. She looked like one of these stone statures which were built to admire.

"I didn't want to have it any other way."

There was a silence which followed her words, embracing you and calming your senses.

"I still love to tend the garden and chat in the kitchen. But something inside me was really devastated when my little boy started to leave me alone."

There was something inside her voice. Something that made you feel with her.

"Do you like him?"

You couldn't help but grip your teacup stronger. "He is my husband."

She opened her eyes again, looking at you with such tenderness. "He is."

Your mouth seemed so dry. You sipped on the teacup again hoping it would also give you words to use. But it didn't.

"My marriage was also arranged, you know?" she slightly tilted her head. "The Gojo Clan was trying for decades to get another six eyes and infinity user. That's why my husband and I married."

She fetched herself fresh tea and tried to cool it down. "Our wedding was big. The honeymoon successful and we got the perfect child. Well in the book." she chuckled a bit. "But I never liked my husband."

"He was my acquaintance, nothing more."

She filled your cup too, watching you and waiting for you to answer.

"You were right." you took your teacup again, a small smile stole itself onto your face. "In our first meeting."

She smiled and laughed quietly.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

"I wasn't informed that my mother in law wanted to speak to me." Satoru never felt so tense before. His hands gripping at each other for dear life. "I was being told that just someone wanted a meeting."

"Yeah, after all I wasn't sure you would even show up." this woman seemed so smug just by simply taking a sip, it drove him mad.

That was your mother.

Oh, he wanted to say so much to her. He had read what this woman had written to you. He had seen how you had sobbed in your sleep and whispered her name. Begging her to listen and stop.

But he didn't want her to go after you for anything he said. You still seemed to be so reliable on your mother.

"What do you want?" he tried to sound as polite as possible, he really did but there was just something that made him see red when he looked at her. Made him see your exhausted face.

She placed her teacup on the table again, her face now with a frown. "Well, my dear son in law," she straightened her position. "It has come to my understanding that you have still not consumed with your wife."

His mouth dried out by the second her words left hers. He couldn't believe how she could just sit there and say-

"Do you feel disgusted by her?"

And mean it unironically.

He couldn't move, just stare at this woman before him. He gripped his teacup realizing his tea was cold again, since he hadn't touched it since his first sip.

She shook her head, her face now looking at him disapproving. "Even if you did, there are solutions for it. I know my daughter isn't the brightest diamond in the jewelry box, but she knows that she should fulfill her duties as your wife."

She took another sip. "There are... Ways to make you feel more attracted to her."

"Stop talking." his teeth had started to grit.

She tsked at him. "I'm just suggesting ways to make this arrangement work. As her mother that is my duty."

"I don't care." he shook his head. "I don't care that you are her mother."

There was no politeness left in his voice. He couldn't bring himself for even a little bit.

"I forbid you from talking about my wife like that."

Her body stiffened, just slightly but enough for him to catch it. She inspected him, her look now cautious. "How dare you-"

She broke off. Her eyes lit up from realization. And then she smiled that eerily smile again.

"I see." she chuckled. A shiver went down his spine. "Does she not want to consume?"

"If so there is the same solution and I could talk with her." she took another loud sip. Her body now completely relaxed as if she wasn't talking about...

"Are you..." he couldn't believe this woman. "Are you seriously suggesting to drug my wife?"

She stared at him for a couple of seconds as if she was taken back by his reaction. Then she smiled again. "She would understand, I'm sure. Anything for the heir."

He stood up. This room, this floor felt like it was burning. No, like he was burning. His infinity unsteady as he was slightly shaking.

"The 'heir' doesn't matter to you. Whatever we are doing doesn't matter to you." he tried to remain a calm voice. "You can drink this bitter tea for the rest of your life for all I care. But don't talk about my wife as if she is just a tool."

She looked up at him, her smile now falling at his words. "I am trying to make this arrangement work, for my daughter-"

"Well, you don't talk about her as if she was your daughter." a scoff left his lips. "Who would suggest drugging their own daughter?"

She stood up. Her eyes now wide and staring at him while her lips were a thin line. "You don't know what a wife has to sacrifice, boy."

"What a mother has to sacrifice."

This woman before him was shaking. But not because of fear he knew that. He just couldn't understand how she was ticking, how a human would say such things.

"Shikabane?" a male voice interrupted the cold atmosphere in the room. The call wasn't loud but still very demanding.

"Coming!" his mother in law called back, her tense shoulders now falling.

She looked at him with many emotions, he could see it in her eyes. But one stuck out. Envy.

"Get out of my house, Satoru Gojo."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

It was later than usual.

You didn't remember much, since you fell asleep on the couch in the living room shortly after Ayaka left.

She was a nice lady. The conversation with her lasted long into the afternoon, maybe even a bit into the evening. She suggested to come often for a cup of tea and you agreed.

But only if you were informed a couple of days prior.

It was much later than usual. You had slept two to three hours since she left and the kitchen was already closed.

You should go into your room and rest. But you didn't. Because you still wanted to see him.

Your legs were heavy but you still got up and made your way into the garden.

It was cold since it was probably almost night. But it was also refreshing. And under the moonlight the flowers shone in a new kind of way.

Yesterday you wouldn't have sat down on the ground next to these flowers, since you were always told that wasn't how a lady should behave. But today it felt like breathing to just sit down and admire those blooming stars up close.

A breeze made you shiver but it somehow also felt good. Alive.

You looked around, the plants around you dancing in the wind.

Till your gaze fell on him.

He was standing at the door. Leaning on the doorframe while his look remained on you. His arms crossed and a small smile on his lips.

"Are you not cold?" He had that warm look which made you smile back at him.

"I am." You stood up again, making your way towards him. "But I am also really warm."

He shook his head with resignation but still a smile. "Sometimes I can't believe how you... Endure so much."

As you stood before him and caught that uncertainty in his eyes, you thought that maybe this wasn't about coldness.

"Satoru are you okay?"

His smile got a bit smaller. His normally so tall and strong frame seemed out of glass. You were scared to come any closer.

And then he embraced you.

His strong arms pulling you gently towards him and holding onto you for dear life. His chest to your face, you could hear his heartbeat. You put your arms around his warm frame too.

You didn't know what was bothering him and you felt like right now wasn't the moment to ask him. Regardless you were sure to comfort him.

For all he was still your Husband. Your Satoru.

"I am now."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

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[joyfulmagic]

If I ever get into an arranged marriage, I want it to be like theirs. (to Henry VIII <3)

@sapphircs

Henry looked down at Thinya, Lady Somerville, and offered a warm smile to her. “You wish to be divorced with a child?” He couldn’t help but chuckle, “that’s my first wife and I. Unfortunately, we didn’t work out as she could not bear sons.”

He touched the tapestry he and his new companion. She was a decent amount younger than him at this point, but he respected her nevertheless. He’d found that newer perspectives were key to a thriving court.

In truth, Henry ached for the early days with Catalina, Catherine, when things had been easier and they’d had Camelot with a son. Sadly, it had not worked out as such, and he was turning slowly to making Anne Boleyn his new queen.

“I do not wish an arranged marriage be thrust upon you, Lady Thinya. If you do not love a suitor, I will step in,” he promised, patting one of her hands as if trying to comfort her with that.

[scnfullcst]

Theodore found himself more amused at her words: I will never love you, ... mark my words. Maybe she was going to be more entertaining than he thought. If a girl folded instantly in front of his feet, there was no fun in it. Many girls had easily kneeled in front of him, and he had gotten tired after a month- "If you say so, future Mrs Crawley," had left his lips, showing his amusement. She was defiant though, and she kept on showing it to him, and Theodore kept being amused by it- He knew she would kneel for him eventually: patience is a virtue, as many say, and Theodore had a lot of it. "Well, if my wife is going to act like a child, punishments will take place-" Punishments came in many forms, depending on what Charlie did, he would punish her accordingly, but not in the way she was thinking. He would never hurt her in any way- that wasn't his style, maybe more emotionally than physically. He slips into the vehicle after her, closing the door before giving the driver instructions to drive to Charlie's old home to pick up her things. At least the things she saw as important- clothes? he could buy, but more personal items he would let her have. Since Charlie didn't want to see her dad, his driver would get the items, and then- she would be all his. His hand reached out to dry away some tears that still stained her cheek, poor sweet little girl, is what he should think, but he didn't. "Light up, sweetheart: at least you are getting married to me,"

Head shakes with his words; no, he didn't get it; it wasn't love when it was forced; when they broke you down and took it, that wasn't love. Not really. "I will never love you. No matter what you do, it will never be true. My love will always have been bought. Mark my words, Mr Crawley. " His own words were again used against him even as tears flowed down reddened cheeks, not bothering to hide her distress for once; whose feelings did she have to spare any more? Clearly, no one had cared for hers. Blues narrowed on him as he grasped his jaw between thick fingers, wriggling against it even as he brought her closer, refusing to just sit back and take it. "Of course, you would say you've gotten exactly what you wanted." though the voice is distorted with the way he has her cheeks pressing in on themselves. Huff when he finally let go of her face. However, now he's practically pulling her toward the vehicle that would send her to her demise. browse lifting once more with the words he saves for when she slips into the vehicle. Bloodshot blues lifting to his as brows are pulled together in confusion. Punishment? "I was under the impression I was to be your wife, not your child." Question even as a voice inside her head screams at her to stay silent, to simply accept the terms much like she'd done well to accept all the other terms heaped upon her by everyone else. Why would this be any different? It would merely be a new cage for her to live in.

[greywoodrpg]

𝕖𝕚𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕨𝕪 𝕛𝕚𝕒𝕟𝕘

appears as though she was born thirty-seven years ago but is actually sixty, she is a faerie who lives in mystic grove as a caretaker of the butterfly house & botanical gardens at lachelle historic house museum, and is in no fantasy. she looks an awful lot like gemma chan.

“Have courage, dear heart, for there is nothing to be afraid of and never has been.”

tw: dysfunctional family, arranged marriage

She was born in peace times, when prosperity was high, and decades of bloodshed were seemingly over. The Monarch Kingdom celebrated for years over the birth of Eilonwy, first pure child of the king and queen of the Spring Lands, eyes as black as night and wings dappled with the fiery orange that told everyone what dynasty she came from. From that moment on, she was raised with poise and decorum, sent to inherit what hundreds before her had built as rightful queen. It seemed nothing would hinder her further ascent to greatness but, there was one thing Eilonwy hadn't banked on - another child born. Her certainly wasn't planned, taking many by surprise but, now their was a male heir, something her father had always wanted. Eilonwy was so quickly sidelined when he came along she barely had time to adjust, the young crown princess suddenly just a princess. Everything that had been promised to her was taken away the older she grew, and instead given to her brother.

Resentment grew in her, darkening her heart, causing her to reject him and often take off on her own. Eilonwy became somewhat ignored by the parents and people who had once adored her, and found her happiness in other places, travelling the fae realms and finding friends in the folk and creatures that lived there.

A long life slowly passed her by until the rot came. Pollution, many claimed, leaking in from the human realm where natural life was nearly all but destroyed. It ate at flowers and trees, drove fae and their kin to madness as it corrupted their wings and caused them to fall of. The Spring Lands were not the first to witness this yet, were the first kingdom to really feel it's affects on such a large scale - when her family realised that it wasn't going away and simply spreading, they questioned what they could do to save themselves.

Eilonwy was the key. A neighbouring kingdom, far enough to allow the butterfly fae to live and escape the destruction the pollution was causing. There was a catch, of course, for the place where they were to move was an old enemy, and the raven king wasn't so keen to have past enemies amongst his people. The peace offering made was Eilonwy's hand in marriage, to be his wife. It wasn't what she wanted but, the woman knew duty came first, always had. Thus, the two strangers were wed.

Her husband was not unkind, didn't seem that way, probably just as scared as she felt. It was him that suggested a honeymoon period in the human realm, a place Eilonwy had always been to afraid to go alone to. The pair spent it in a tranquil forest with a nearby pool, a blissful first night of marriage.

And when she awoke the next morning, she was alone, and unable to return to the fae realm. What Eilonwy didn't know was that fae blood feuds were not so easily solved by marriage, and that the grudge was still heavily bared. Now alone, Eilonwy had to fend for herself in the human world, and eventually found Greywood on her travels somewhere safe, holing up in the public gardens for many years.

“what power did she attain when settling in greywood?”

Eilonwy had always been blessed with a gifted voice, however since entering the world of humans it seems to allow her to talk to all creatures of the land.

penned by... mina

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

Short Prompt #1272

CW: arranged marriage, betrayal.

The human cried, an endless stream of tears soaking into their pillow. "H-How could they?" they sobbed, "How could they do that?!"

It had been barely half an hour since Human's parents had told them of a secret they'd been hiding for years. The human had only now found out that their soul had been sold to a demon before they were even born.

They couldn't fathom it. How could their parents do such a thing to them? To condemn them so shamelessly... And all for what? A bunch of riches and gold that made them feel special? Pathetic.

Human had always known something was wrong; the disconnect their parents had toward them. They should've run while they still had the chance. They should have--

"H-Hey! Hey! It's okay!" a familiar voice echoed from the shadows, its owner's mere presence enough to soothe the human's cries. The creature emerged from the darkest corner of the room and floated over. "Everything will be alright."

"You don't know that..." Human sniffled, burying their face in the bedsheets.

"I... do, actually," the monster said, gaining their friend's attention. "I... wasn't supposed to tell you, but the demon that owns your soul... is actually my dad."

"W-What...?" The human sat up, confused. A hint of betrayal crossed their features. "Was all of this fake then? A-All the years we've spent growing up together in secret?"

"N-No! No! I promise you're still my friend!" the monster hurried to explain themself. "I just... My dad is really old, so he went about things his own way, and uh...

"And when I was born - a year before you - he wanted to ensure that I'd have a, uhm... a bride..." Monster was muttering awkwardly now, unsure how to make this sound reasonable. "And I may have gone against his orders and met you earlier than I was meant to..."

Human took a moment to process everything. "So... your dad is some ancient, powerful demon..."

"Yes."

"And he wanted my soul... so he could make me marry you?"

The monster hunched over themself nervously. "Y-Yes..."

"Okay."

"I-I know you don't want-- Huh?" Monster cut themself off, surprised.

The human smiled at them. "This is... still a lot, but at least I get to marry my best friend instead of... being doomed to eternal servitude or something."

"So you're... fine with this?" the monster asked just to be sure and received a nod. "Alright... So, platonic marriage?"

Human grinned and held out their hand as if to make a deal. "Platonic marriage."

[emjiroki]

Back to arranged marriage! Gojo

As much as he might be overly confident and unfairly handsome, he's completely out of his element on your wedding night. Even though he was in his twenties, he had yet to be with anyone the way he was going to be with you now. The vow to "stay pure until your marriage" didn't really mean much to him but it's the fact that he had made a promise to you that made him stick to it.

So when the wedding night comes and he's got you spread out under him on the bed, the sight of your naked body sending fire burning through his veins, he's unsure of himself for probably the first time in his life. And you know the moment he casts his ethereal blue eyes to you in an almost pleading manner, so you shift your legs up around his waist and lay a soft hand against his cheek.

"Just take it slow".

He nods with a deep breath, positioning himself before popping the head past your entrance. It's a snug fit that nearly sends all of the air rushing from his lungs as you dig your nails into his shoulders, whining and squirming as his hands held your hips.

You gave a quiet shriek as he tore through your virgin wall, his hips stilling as you adjust to the intrusion and he kisses away the tears leaking down your cheeks. But he can't help but feel... prideful? Victorious? Triumphant? All of those wrapped into one as your blood stains his cock. You're his. Only his. No one would ever be with you like this, feel connecting to you like this. That was a high he could ride for the rest of his life. Along with the high of feeling your tight cunt fully squeeze around him for the first time.

Satoru barely recognized his own voice as he wreathed and panted and cried out for you, drool running from his lips as he fucked into you. God he was trying to go slow, he really was, but when you were sucking him in like that and practically milking his cock it was impossible. He'd never felt anything as incredible as you cumming around his sensitive dick before and it was more than enough to drag a strangled moan from his chest as he pumped you full, thick spurts of virgin cum filling your insides to the brim. Before you know it he's got you on top of him, your nipple in his mouth as he thrusts his still leaking cock up against your sensitive pussy as he whines.

"Can we go again? Please?"

[konigsblog]

more arranged marriage between reader and farmer!könig, please? 🌝❤️

tw: arranged marriage au, rape/non-con, forced impregnation and breeding. dead dove: do not eat. 18+ tell me if i missed anything. 🔞

your parents knew it was harsh to arrange a marriage with the farmer of the village, although, they cared more about his money and wealth and status around the village, how you'd be viewed as his pretty, little wife, respected and admired by those around you.

that's what they want you to believe — that it's for your own sake — but, a part of you is aware that they're doing this for könig's money, as he pays them to keep you by his side. for könig, this is everything he's wanted, whilst you avoid him like the plague and dismiss every attempt when he tries having sex with you.

farmer-könig spends ages on the field, harvesting the fruits and vegetables whilst you hide inside, ignoring your arranged husband. könig attempts to please you, to make you happy, but eventually, he's left without a choice but to take the old-fashioned route and have his way with you regardless...

he'd drug you, get you intoxicated enough where your mind is easily shaped and you're a pliant plaything for him to use for an hour or so, his obedient wife waiting on him, to be torn apart and pierced with his hung, musky cock. the smell of his sweat and musk was a scent you were all too familiar with, smelling it on him after he'd arrived home from the farm, sweat running down his forehead. you could smell it against his neck as he lowered himself onto you, his weight holding you down and the scent of alcohol coming from your breath.

his large and calloused hands began moving as he wasted no time at getting what he pleased and yearned for. könig's fingers ran up your back, unclasping your bra and removing it to see what he craved, the essence of your sweet arousal leaving könig insatiable and hungry. he couldn't wait any longer, as he gripped your breast firmly and began to suckle at your hardened nub, your nipple perky, hardening as he rolled his tongue around it. you mewled and moaned drunkenly, cunt leaving your panties wet, huffing and puffing with confusion, and your drunkenness leaving you exhausted and weak.

his other hand began to sink into your panties, and into your sopping wet hole. he could already feel how slick you were, along with how tight you were — he almost felt guilty for doing this, knowing you'd be aching and in agony the entire time — but, his dick weeped and twitched inside his boxers as he rolled his bulge against your clothed cunt. his lips popped off from your nipple, your eyes wide as the cold air against your sore nipple, causing goosebumps to spread along your body, and the wet sounds of your pleasure audible as he thrusted his calloused, thick fingers inside your cunt.

his fingers began to pull your panties down, revealing that glossy cunt that he longed for — that he dreamed and fantasised about. the slickness looked delicious to könig, who couldn't help but free his large cock from his boxers, springing out and hitting his lower, muscular abdomen as he began to push inside, one hand gripping his base and the other spreading your slit open for easy access. your folds latched onto him almost instantly, eyes wide with shock at the ache and pleasure between your thighs, the force of his meaty girth leaving tears rolling down your cheeks.

your chest rose and fell quickly, back arched at the throbbing sensation of his thick dick pushing deep inside of you. könig couldn't control himself as he felt himself grow and drool inside of you, tip leaking with pearly, milky beads of arousal, your eyes glistening with tears at the painful stretch and uneasiness. something was nagging you that this wasn't what you wanted, that something was wrong — yet, you ignored these messages and signals running through you, his hands on your wrist restraining you as he fucked himself hard into your hole, thrusts becoming merciless and sore, the tip nuzzling against your cervix.

tears ran down your face at the sight of your cunny swollen and stuffed with his hot, bulbous cock, heaving and looking around dizzily, feeling the sudden sensation of his tip spurting into you, weeping hot loads of his milky arousal into your pussy, with the hopes of impregnating you.

it's not as if you could stay away from him whilst pregnant; you would need guidance, support... everything was working the way he wanted it to go, and poor you, left defenceless, with his potent seed filling your cunt ‘til a bulge formed in your stomach. :(