#arranged marriage verse

[eorzeansavagery]

And we rely on them to save the world.

#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxiv wol #arranged marriage verse #urianger augurelt #emet-selch #hythlodaeus #elpis #endwalker spoilers #aethelreda galanodel

[timeguardians]

“Arranged marriages are weird. All your life you’re told not to talk to strangers and then you’re asked to sleep with one.”--Belle from Pat/VictimoftheJazz

Belle can't help the nod of agreement his words conjure up. Nothing about this process had been COMFORTABLE. She too, had been apprehensive about all of THIS, about tethering herself to an absolute stranger. Soft eyes round upon him. "We are no longer foreign to each other." She intrepidly manages, "you are La Mari and I have promised you FEALTY for the rest of my life."

With her heart jackhammering uneasily inside of her chest, gentle porcelain fingers MOVE to encompass his cheek. There she gingerly sweeps her thumb up and down his skin. She knows that she is probably NOT what he had desired. Most men like him wanted a fair-haired and blue-eyed beauty. She is plain and not of rich blood.

"But we do NOT have to sleep tonight, if you do not wish to," she softly offers. Her free hand encompasses his and gives it a gentle squeeze. Of course, she knows the social expectations. Yet, she wants her new husband Patrick Michaels to feel in control of the situation. "We can-- can talk."

"Talk about things like-- where you are from? You are NOT from Alsace..." She murmurs as an invitation.

@avictimofthejazz

#avictimofthejazz #Muse: Belle #belle x patrick michaels #arranged marriage verse #Muse: Belle from beauty and the beast

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

Dance at a Feast

Happy New Year everyone! The good thing about having two weeks off from work is that I am able to get some writing done! I'm trying to get drafts done for a lot of fics I have plans for, so I can have some things to post when I go back to work.

Also, please feel free to make requests! I have a list of prompts which is linked below, and a master list that has the fandoms and characters I write for. If there is someone and a something not listed that would like to make a request for, feel free to and I will let you know if I know enough about it to write for it. Also feel free to make requests for this verse!

This is another part in the Covered in Steam verse. A fluffy piece between female reader and Thorin, it is set after Covered in Steam.

Warnings: Talks of a sexual nature. Dain being disrespectful - nothing insane just not acknowledging the reader as the Queen *yes I think this should be a warning*

Tag list: @catt-leya @bunson-burner

Master List

Prompt List

Covered in Steam

You fiddled with the sleeves of your dress tugging them down before pulling them back up and then down again. You glanced at the mirror in Thorin’s, no your chamber you hadn’t slept in the chamber that was yours since that night. You wore a beautiful gown in the colours of the family of Durin, the blue almost matched that of your Kings eyes. Your hair had been left down showcasing the braids and beads that Thorin wove into it every morning. You were nervous, this was the first feast since you were behaving as a true married couple. And you didn’t want to do anything that would embarrass Thorin. Which was why you were concerned about the dress, the shoulders of the dress could sit normally or be pulled down to expose your shoulders and collarbones, and the plunging neckline was lower than what you normally wore but it worked the best with the necklace Thorin had gifted you with on the day you got married, and you hadn’t worn it yet.

“Sister?” you heard Dis’ voice call out from the sitting room next to the bedroom where Thorin received any guests that came to your chambers.

“In here!” you called back, shifting the bodice of the dress a little, unsure about the gauzy material that ran in panels down your ribs before forming into the princess style skirt.

“Oh my,” Dis whispered as she laid eyes on you. “I think you may very well kill my brother in that dress.”

“Is it too much?” you spun around eyes wide with concern as you smoothed down the billowing skirts. “It’s a normal style in my homeland but I know it isn’t overly common amongst the women here.”

“You look stunning my Queen,” Dis assured you as she came to stand in-front of you grabbing your hands. “You do not need to pretend as if the culture and norms of your homeland do not exist, my brother would not expect you to only dress as a dwarven woman.”

“I know he has told me as such, but I just don’t want to…embarrass him in-front of his court, especially since everything between us is still so new,” you nibbled your lower lip before yelping a little as Dis pinched your arm.

“You’ll ruin the makeup,”  

“Can’t have that can I?” you laughed, your nerves slowly leaving you in your sister in laws presence. Something she has always managed to do.

“Now, come on,” Dis tugged on you before stopping for a moment. “Wait, you are missing something.” She let go of your hand to go back to your dressing table and lifted the small crown from its resting place to put it on your head. “There.”

You lifted your hand to gently touch the crown as Dis went back to tugging you out of your rooms and towards the main banquet hall. You were still not use to wearing a crown, as you and Thorin both only tended to wear them when you absolutely had to. Such as at a feast welcoming Thorin’s cousin Dain. You could hear the celebrations before the door even came into view, you smiled. Dwarrow truly knew how to throw a feast and celebration.

“Introducing her Highness Princess Dis and her Royal Majesty Queen y/n,” the herald at the doorway announced both you and Dis causing the court to become quiet as Thorin stood from his chair and walked around the table that housed the royals. His eyes burned with a fire as he took in your appearance, you could feel the eyes of every dwarf on you as the king walked towards you and Dis quickly left your side to greet her sons. You could only guess the dwarf sitting on Thorin’s left was his cousin Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills. You briefly caught his eyes only to quickly break eye contact and focus on your husband. Dain had the same colour eyes as Thorin only his were cold and calculating, and you did not like the way he looked at you.

“My wife,” Thorin rumbled, this voice bouncing around the room. “You are a vision.”

You dropped into a small curtsy as your body warmed, your eyes locking onto his as you lifted your head back up. Thorin stepped closer to you to place a kiss upon your lips before gently taking your hand, guiding you to stand in-front of his cousin, who remained seated.

“Cousin, my wife, your Queen,” Thorin’s voice was hard as stone as he noticed the disrespect being shown to you. “Greet her.” Dain’s eyes narrowed before a friendly mask fell over his face as he stood and bowed low to you.

“It’s an honour to finally meet you, Your Majesty,” Dain’s voice didn’t sound overly pleased and you were concerned but you nodded back at him regardless, knowing now was not the time to raise concerns.

“And it is lovely to finally meet you Lord Dain, Thorin has spoken highly of you,” you responded voice soft, your eyes looking at a point over his shoulder as you didn’t want to look into his cold eyes again.

“Come my Queen, you must be hungry,” Thorin’s arm wrapped around your waist and led you away. You smiled gratefully up at Thorin raising on your toes to press your lips to his cheek in thanks. His arm squeezed you in kind, his eyes full of love as he stared down at you.

“Hello aunty mine,” Kili smiled up at you as you walked past. You grinned down at him, unable to resist messing up his hair. Kili pouted up at you as he tried to fix his hair, you dropped a kiss on his head in apology as you did the same to Fili as you walked past. Dis’s sons had been as welcoming as she had when you arrived, always smiling and including you, you were forever grateful for those three Durin’s.

“Aunty,” Fili smiled as you sat down beside him, Dis was in the middle of her two sons, who leaned around her oldest to smile at you. “Don’t worry about Dain. He’s a traditionalist but Uncle doesn’t pay any mind to those old dwarves.” Fili had lowered his voice and leant close to your side. His eyes, the same shade as his uncle was soft and kind as he looked at you. Your heart squeezed at his words.

“Thank you Fili,” you whispered back. “I will keep that in mind.”

“But, should he or any other dwarf look to cause you problems promise that you will let myself, my mother, Kili, Dwalin or Balin know. Of course Thorin should be your first choice but if you cannot find him, you also have us on your side,” Fili added squeezing your arm before letting go and focusing on his food.

You could hear the conversations going on around you as you picked at your food. You never ate much in-front of large crowds, but would always find a plate of food waiting for you in your chambers after a feast. You had always wondered who ensured the staff left it but never thought to investigate it too much.

“Are you alright love?” Thorin asked removing himself from the conversation with Dain to check on you. He had picked up on your added nerves after meeting Dain and wanted to do everything he could to be sure that you were fine.

“I am,” you nodded turning to give Thorin a smile but you could tell from the look on his face that he didn’t buy it. He leaned close enough to whisper into your ear.

“If I had known Dain would show such disrespect to my wife I would never had invited him here,” Thorin promised you. “Tell me at once if he ever does so again or makes you uncomfortable at all. Erebor if your home and you are the Queen.”

“You Durin’s and your need to protect,” you teased nudging your nose against his.

“Oh?”

“Fili just gave me a list of all the dwarves I can tell if Dain or any other dwarf causes me problems,” you explained. “It was pretty much you four and Dwalin and Balin.”

“Hmm,” Thorin hummed his eyes full of pride at your words. “Well, us Durin’s are fiercely protective of those we care about. And once we care for someone it is next to impossible to get rid of us. So I’m afraid my heart, you are stuck with me, and my sister and nephews.”

“Such an imposition that,” you laughed.

“You weren’t thinking I was an imposition this morning,” Thorin growled his eyes darkening as heat filled them. “With my tongue between your thighs.”

“Thorin,” you gasped in shock. “You can’t say things like that here.”

“I am the King,” Thorin shrugged kissing your lips and whispering his next words into your mouth. “I can say such things when I please. And no-one can hear us.”

You playfully glared at him about to say something back when Dain interrupted leaning around Thorin to gain his attention again, sending you a cold look before placing the mask back in place before Thorin could see. Thorin kissed you once more rounding on his cousin, you could hear the harshness in his tone as he spoke in dwarvish. You sipped at your wine, as music started to play, as it always does at a Dwarven feast. The boys beside you quickly stood up looking to find some partners to dance with, Kili raced off instantly looking for Ori. Fili however, hesitated, Dis had left seeking out Balin to discuss some matters.

“My Queen,” Fili said, his voice loud and pointed as he bowed low at his waist holding a hand out. “May I have a dance?”

You grinned up at Fili, standing up and reaching to take his hand but you were pulled tightly against a hard chest. Thorin’s scent surrounding you. Fili smirked, his eyes playfully challenging his uncle, as he continued to wait on your hand.

“My wife will be dancing with me first, nephew,” Thorin’s voice rumbled.

“I think Her Majesty can make that decision, Uncle,” Fili grinned.

“I am honoured Prince Fili,” you grinned, trying to keep your voice regal. “However, I would think you would prefer to seek out someone else to dance…and even maybe court?”

Fili’s face flushed bright red his eyes automatically going towards a dwarven woman that was standing off to the side near Bofur. The look in his eyes was similar to how Thorin would look at you and you knew that maybe you and Dis could do a little pushing.

“I mean…I can’t…” Fili stuttered in an uncommon show of nerves.

“Yes you can nephew,” you encouraged him stepping a little out of the circle of Thorin’s arms but he kept a hold of your hips. “I have seen that young woman look at you, in the same manner you look at her. You are a Durin, take the courage that all you Durin’s seem to possess in enough abundance to take on a Dragon and ask her to dance.”

You felt Thorin’s hands squeeze your hips and his lips pressed into your neck, you could feel the smile that tugged at them. You reached out to squeeze Fili’s hands, forcing his eyes back to yours. The red of his face had calmed down to a light pink.

“Right, yes, true,” Fili nodded.

“You are my heir Fili,” Thorin added reaching out to pat him on the shoulder. “You can do this.”

Fili nodded once more before he turned around and strode towards the woman in question. He forced the Durin swagger into his steps as the two of you watched him in amusement. Thorin tugged you close again turning you around, you smiled up at him wrapping your arms around his neck.

“So, that dance?” you asked. “Better make good.”  

“Come along then,” Thorin smirked. Pushing you backwards, you giggled turning around and taking hold of his hand and pulling him onto the space in the middle of the room that was used for dancing.

Thorin spun you around before tugging you close, wrapping his right arm around your waist and grabbing your right hand with his left, you placed your left hand on his shoulder. You allowed him to led you around the floor trusting him to keep you from backing into anyone. The tune was a fast past one, your skirt flying out every time he spun you around quickly. He grabbed both of your hips and lifted you up and turning the two of you before putting you back down and grabbing hold of your hand again to lead you around.

You giggled as your dress managed to hit Kili and Ori on your way past them, you threw an apology over Thorin’s shoulder causing the two young Dwarves to laugh. Thorin couldn’t take his eyes off of you, your eyes were bright with happiness and you had not stopped laughing and smiling since Fili had first asked you for a dance. Your face was flush from your wine and from the dancing, you had danced to two fast paced songs before a slow paced song started to play. Thorin wrapped both his arms around your waist pulling you as close to him as he could get you. You looped your arms around his neck, using one of your hands to tilt his head down, he grinned as he rested his forehead against yours and swayed the two of you in time with music.

“You truly do look beautiful tonight, my Lady,” Thorin whispered. “Seeing you in my colours, I wish to take you from this hall and feast on something else entirely.”

“My King, was this morning and last night not enough?” you asked, stroking the back of his neck, his thick hair covering your movements.

“I will never have enough of you,” Thorin answered. “I will never have enough of your taste, of your body, of you. I will always want you in my arms.”

#writing #imagine #imagines #fluff #the hobbit imagines #The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Thorin #Female reader #Queen Reader #Arranged marriage #thorin fluff #Thorin x reader #Thorin x femreader #Fili #Kili #Dis #Dain #Covered in Steam Verse #cute #Thorin is infatuated with his wife #Thorin's family would throw hands for her #but not Dain #Reader is adorable #reader is uncomfortable around Dain #non-dwarf reader

[mihrsuri]

JOAN.

Dauphine of France. Princess of Scotland. Princess of Albion. Queen Regnant of Scotland. Queen of England. The Half Breed Heathens Whore Of A Wife. My Darling Wise Thistle. Little Wise Eyed. Jeanne.

Though Joan’s father died not six months after her birth his love for her was remarked upon - indeed it was said that he could hardly bear to be apart from her. His death was something her mother Mary never recovered from despite two subsequent marriages and the reminder of him in her black haired and grey eyed daughter seems to have been a mixture of grief and solace to her. Joan proved to be a serious child - interested in books, archery and riding but with a keen talent for music she was included in and educated in rulership from a young age, particularly by her paternal grandmother who remarked that she saw ‘very much of Marguerite of Navarre in her’ she was excellent at politics, at rulership and in her concern and interest in the lives of all her people but she was not warm and nor did she have the charisma and ability to draw the eye of her mother, something that drew unfavourable comparisons. Her marriage was made out of pragmatism on her part and no one was more surprised than Joan when it turned into love.

(inspired in part by this edit by @emilykaldwen (ABBY MY BELOVED))

#lil and her ridiculous aus #ot3: political power trio #au: golden world #pending graphic tag #lils edits #this is who thomas and mihrimahs oldest son marries #it really is arranged marriage to lovers #turhan has a really difficult time because Living Up To His Parents #(not that his parents aren’t great parents they are) #(it’s just living up to them is…FUCK) #Joan has to wrestle with the fact that people look to her more than her mother but also absolutely compare her to her mother negatively #tudorsedit #herawell #also joans mothers life choices #(mqos does have way less terrible men in her life i think) #(but also she and joan do really struggle to connect and understand each other) #turhan struggles with being the heir of rulers who live up to their legends (positive for both) as rulers and people and then some #and also turhan really follows his mothers faith and takes after his maternal grandfathers family in appearance #and while England by the time of his reign is Different And Better #people are going to people even in this kindest possible world #and in some ways without thomas and mihrimah he has to be like #what is a legacy dot gif #tudors ot3 verse reference

[decadentias]

"SOMETIMES, I'M CONVINCED YOU KNOW me better than he does." Florence took the glass of cocktail and glanced at the other gratefully.

open to: f / nb | possible connection(s): fiancé's sister, best friend, relative, etc.

#indie rp #indie smut rp #indie bi rp #independent rp #independent roleplay #m: florence #open starter #something short for her #yes a verse where she's in an arranged marriage but she's pining for her fiance's sister/best friend/wtv

[bhaalswn-arch]

[ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] ── * VERSE ( 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴. 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 )

Alkas Caedes. ( Latin for Slaughter. ) Born in the Caedes Patriar-family. Kidnapped when they were a baby. They live in the Upper City. In a beauteous manor that held dark secrets. They held up certain family traditions. Bhaalspawns completing their ceremonies. However, there was only a few nowadays. And fewer by the day. The Caedes has been there for centuries to the point where no one remembers how they started. Bhaal himself has crafted a child from his flesh. Born from a woman who would be later killed by her own child.

You've lived in this manor for too long, that you've become self-aware of the proverbial noose around your neck. The confirmation that your Father owns you and makes the decisions for you. You're the Chosen. You remain on a diet preferably for someone like Bhaal himself. Meat. ( And not the usual kind that you are thinking of. ) How love is merely bloodied hearts. How every meal is seasoned for you adorned with vegetables and the like.

And soon, your day will come. A suitable person to be paired with you, and the family old tradition will begin. You were planned to be wed.

The old family tradition can either be two things: one of them is to be slaughtered by Alkas. To soak in the blood of his beloved. The husband/wife themselves succumbed to certain things. ( It depends, I'm still currently thinking/planning it out. ) Or two, which is something that Irenicus had done. Which gain the power of The Slayer. But what if you could in theory transform into a Bhaalspawn? So that's the other option. )

#[ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] ── * VERSE ( 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴. 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 )

[potential-fate]

“Like…” Ashe trailed off. 

“Like an arranged marriage, yeah.” Roman scowled. 

“That’s…” Ashe frowned, “people actually still do that?” 

Roman scoffed, “royalty, maybe. And apparently rich people. I wish I could say I was surprised, but she’s been trying to convince me since I was 12 that this was the way to go. Now she just has an excuse.” 

“She… she believes that shit?”

“Yeah. I mean, to be fair to her, my grandparents were arranged and it worked out well for her.” Roman looked away, staring blandly through the foliage in front of them. Ashe only made a quiet sympathetic noise.

#arkhelios #sims stories #sims 2 #sims 2 stories #sims 2 gameplay #ts2 #my posts #Arkh Ch5 #Roman Bellamy #Ashe Dallas #Malika and Salem absolutely were arranged in case that wasn't clear previously #Malika actually really wanted to be with Abraham but that didn't work out. #to be fair I'm not well versed on the practice of arranged marriages in other cultures #but at least in my sims universe it's not the standard #since I'm only familiar with the US so it's heavily based around semi-american culture.

[nebula-drcams]

" Quite frankly I don't see what's wrong with marrying Hildibrand, I did agree to it after all. Sure he's .. questionable at times but he's just a little eccentric. "

   There are reasons she likes that man, whether that's a good or a bad thing is hard to tell and it's probably better to not find out why. Or maybe do.

   She just has a thing for himbos honestly-

#THE WAY I HOWLED AT THAT POST PLEASE #SHE INSTANTLY WENT “ I'M NOT UNLUCKY ” IM SOBBING }} #★ ► ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏꜱᴍᴏꜱ ◄ ⌠ In Character ⌡ #★ ► ᴇᴄʜᴏᴇᴅ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴘᴀᴄᴇ ◄ ⌠ Dash Commentary ⌡ #Muse; Nimue #Verse; FFXIV - Arranged Marriage

[mimihagis]

one muse seeks comfort from a loveless marriage with the other, their lover (OH LOOK, CAS!)

He hated this; sneaking out in the late hours in hopes of finding sanctuary and being made to feel so criminal for doing so. The arrangement with the Tsunayashiro clan was written in stone, it was to be made in an effort to secure the unruly and troublesome sibling of his away from the threat of execution in the events following his latest escapades. Ukitake loved his family, he always made efforts to support them through all hardships -- and using the funds he made whilst Shinigami, he had relative ease in doing so. Up until the latest spree that had even his influence as a captain overshadowed, overpowered, by the corrupt judges in Central 46. Tokinada had them wrapped around his finger, and now Ukitake was much alike in that regard.

He hated it. He hated what was taken from him in the process -- the ability to ever marry his true love, his soulmate, his most beloved. The strain their relationship underwent within the past week alone was more than what Ukitake could handle on top of the terrifying realization that he was wed to a monster...

So he couldn't really help himself -- he wept the moment Shunsui came into view. He'd been holding back tears for several days straight, now, not wanting to further feed Tokinada's sadism by showcasing such vulnerability within the thin walls of his estate. Here, however, in Shunsui's arms -- he was safe.

There were no words needed, nothing could've possibly sufficed in describing how he felt, but there were visible signs of fatigue, sleepless nights spent on edge. He wasn't even allowed to remain within the Gotei 13 -- retired, formally, by the Tsunayashiro's strong influence. They hoarded him, kept him practically locked away... and for what? Such a senseless cruelty dumbfounded him, he couldn't quite comprehend the why of it all. His typically understanding and compassionate heart was too hurt to offer itself to the lurking predator that slept in bed with him. He'd gone into this braced, prepared for an ache but the deed had been absolutely necessary.

Now? He mourned, he hated himself for regretting it -- for regretting saving his sibling from the gallows. He hated himself for thinking that his love life was more important, selfishly, and he hated that he couldn't stop himself from daydreaming about another way, another possibility, just to save himself the dread of knowing that this would be his life for the next centuries to come. If he lived that long. Illnesses spiked when emotions ran high and terrible, he'd gotten ill the first few days spent at the estate -- more to come, he was certain, given how tired he felt, how stretched-thin he was.

No, Ukitake couldn't say a word to his partner, he merely buried his face to that broad chest and wept, wept, wept.

#arranged marriage verse tbt. #in character. [ in a gentle way i will shake the world. ] #dynamic. [ two souls / one heart: kyoraku shunsui. ] #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[eorzeansavagery]

FFXIV OC GALA 2022 (done in 2023) - 2/4

Next up are fan favorites (its me i'm the fan), Aethelreda and Emet-Selch. Of the whole photoshoot I would say these two have the most "traditional" pose together, y'know, interlaced arms, standing next to each other, looking out at the crowd, looking dignified. Old couples am I right.

Theme: The Stars, Sun and Moon.

#I havent done it very well with Emet but the concept for these two was she was the sun and stars and he was the moon #yknow his sunshine and all that sappy shit <3 #ff14 #ffxiv #gposers #ffxiv gpose #endwalker spoilers #midlander hyur #arranged marriage verse #aethelreda galanodel #emet-selch #little hints of hades in here yessss #monsterfuckers unite #ffxiv oc gala 2022 #ffxiv oc gala

[stiltonbasket]

may I ask for just a lil renouncement verse 🥺🥺 something with flowers and the comforting feeling of planting things maybe?? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

On a damp, dreary morning in the third autumn after Lan Wangji’s wedding, A-Lan trots into his office with a flowerpot and asks for a bowl of dried lotus seeds.

“A-Lan grows flowers,” his daughter pleads, holding up the flowerpot with her beautiful eyes wide in supplication. “Papa, help Lan-bao?”

Lan Wangji’s heart melts. “Of course, qian jin,” he tells her, leaning down to kiss the top of her tousled little head. “Give Papa a moment, and I will be right there.”

He washes his paintbrushes and carries A-Lan to the storehouse near Wei Ying’s Jishi, where his beloved keeps all the ingredients he uses in his workshop. Lan Wangji built the storehouse as a gift for Wei Ying after A-Lan was born, since his jars of powders and talismans were already beginning to spill off the rows of shelves in the Jishi; and though he never quite knows which boxes are safe to touch, the storehouse has a single wall devoted to harmless ingredients like herbs and different kinds of dust. The lotus seeds are on the fourth shelf, between a bottle of swan feathers and a sheet of brown paper covered with dried moss; so Lan Wangji holds A-Lan up to the jar and waits for her to choose the biggest seed of the batch, a buttery yellow one with a hint of spring green lingering beneath the outer membrane.

“This one is Lan-bao’s,” she chirps, delighted with her prize. “Papa, give kiss.”

He brushes his lips over Shuilan’s forehead. “Like this, my xiao xin?”

“No!” the baby protests, holding the seed up to his mouth. “Kiss Hua-bao.”

Lan Wangji bends down and kisses the seed, warming from head to toe at the determination in the little girl’s voice; and then, with their work done, he bundles A-Lan out of the storehouse and takes her back to the Jingshi.

“Now A-Lan will plant her,” Shuilan announces, the moment he sets her down on the porch. “I have soil for Hua-bao?”

“Not the soil in the garden, A-Lan. We need river clay, and sand—the kind of soil A-Niang has in the bottom of the lotus pond.”

“Papa bring clay for A-Lan? Please?”

“En, I will. After we have lunch.”

A-Lan nods and runs back into the nursery, cradling the lotus seed to her chest, and Lan Wangji goes into the kitchen and begins preparing lunch for five. Wei Ying will be home from the Jishi within the hour, since he refuses to miss sharing meals with their family even in the midst of his most enthralling experiments, and A-Yuan always eats in the Jingshi when Lan Jingyi is away from the Cloud Recesses.

He lays out five place settings, and ladles out five bowls of rice—three filled to the brim, and two half-full ones for Xiaohui and A-Lan—and fills a row of serving dishes with chicken and vegetables and soup.

“Lan Zhan, that looks delicious,” Wei Ying says fervently, slipping in through the kitchen door behind him. His robes smell of saltpeter and ice water, both sulphurous and fresh, and Lan Wangji leans down to kiss the apples of his cheeks before sending him to the washroom.

“Go bathe your face and hands, my love,” he chides. “And change your clothes, too. Saltpeter lingers in the air, and you know how you hate to smell unpleasant things while you eat.”

Wei Ying takes an appreciative sniff of the noodles and chicken soup before clapping a hand to his mouth.

“Oh, don’t I just,” his husband groans. “Tian ah, that cleared out my nose with a vengeance. Have I been smelling like this all morning?”

He gags and withdraws from the kitchen, grumbling, and hurries towards the washroom. Lan Wangji hears Xiao-Yu cry out from the other side of the wall, protesting at the pungent odor; and then, less than two minutes later, his second son totters in through the folding doors with Bee-shidi clutched in his arms, looking vaguely ill from the sudden assault on his nose.

“A-Niang will get sick if the Jishi smells like that,” A-Yu says anxiously, tugging at Lan Wangji’s skirts. “Papa, can I clean it?”

“No, dearheart, though it is very kind of you to ask,” Lan Wangji replies, handing A-Yu a bundle of clean chopsticks. “I will air it out this afternoon, if Wei Ying hasn’t already done it. Now go sit down and wait for A-Lan and Sizhui.”

Wei Ying reappears a minute later with A-Lan on his hip and Sizhui at his elbow, and then, after a soapy-smelling kiss and a hungry squeal from Shuilan, their little family finally sits down to eat.

None of them keep to the sect rules about refraining from speech during meals, though Lan Wangji was sometimes tempted to do so when Xiao-Yu was a toddler, out of fear that he might choke on his food. Instead, they talk about anything and everything under the sun: a new novel Lan Wangiji read this week with Wei Ying, Sizhui’s night-hunts and his upcoming master’s examinations in music and literature, Xiao-Yu’s misadventures in the Baoshi with his friend Lan Minghui, and even little A-Lan’s determination to grow her own lotus flower from seed. 

“Hua-bao will be all big for A-Lan’s birthday,” the baby announces, stirring blissful circles into her bowl of brown sauce and mushrooms. “But A-Lan needs clay first.”

“All big, sweetheart?” Wei Ying inquires, sending Lan Wangji a soft, smitten look that brings tears to the corners of his eyes. “Do you mean that she’ll flower by your birthday?”

A-Lan nods and beats on the table with her little spoon. “Mn!”

“Lotus flowers take a little longer than that to bloom, my Lan-bao. It probably won’t be ready by your next birthday, but it should flower by the time you turn four.”

“Too late!” Lan-bao frowns. “Hua-bao grows up fast. A-Niang will see!”

It’s Lan Wangji’s turn to send Wei Ying a soft look across the table then, this one signifying that they should infuse Shuilan’s lotus with spiritual energy as often as need be, in order to ensure that it blossoms by her third birthday.

“What’s special about A-Lan’s third birthday?” Xiao-Yu pipes up. “You already have lots of lotus flowers, remember? Yu-gege gave you one yesterday.”

“My Hua-bao’s different.”

And that, apparently, is the end of it. The meal comes to an end, and Sizhui clears the dishes away; and in the meanwhile, Wei Ying kisses Lan Wangji goodbye and goes back to the Jishi, trailing the scent of sweet lotus pudding and something uniquely Wei Ying.

Sizhui stays for an hour after luncheon, eager to discuss his latest qin compositions with Lan Wangji. But at last he too takes his leave, carrying a bundle of music books from his father’s study; and then, just before the sun truly begins its downward arc across the heavens, Lan Wangji brings his two youngest children to the lotus pond in the produce field. 

Though the foliage surrounding it has long since begun to brown, the pond is as lush as ever at this time of year. Plants tended by shidao cultivators can remain in their growing season year-round without withering, and Wei Ying hates to see the lotuses go to seed and die; it reminds him of his time in the Burial Mounds, where every bush and tree hovered somewhere between life and death.

The swaying lotuses delight Wei Ying, like light tea in the mornings and clean talisman paper and brushes that sit just right in his hands, and it was a simple matter for Lan Wangji to make certain that the pond was always overflowing with flowers; but today, he passes them by and digs up a bucket of sandy clay, which he pours into A-Lan’s red flowerpot with a basin of clear green water.

“This is Hua-bao’s home,” A-Lan sighs, wriggling in contentment as Lan Wangji leads the way back to the Jingshi. “My flower sleeps with A-Lan?”

“I don’t see why not,” Lan Wangji smiles. “Come along, both of you. It’s time you had a bath.”

From then on, the lotus plant lives in a corner of the bedroom Lan Wangji shares with Wei Ying. He gives it small bursts of spiritual energy whenever he remembers to, and watches it grow and flourish like a weed—and thus, like his children, who sometimes seem to grow in both body and mind by the hour.

“They’re growing up too quickly,” he whispers to Wei Ying one night, when the two of them are away from home on a night-hunt in Wujun. “I wish there was some way to catch their childhood and make it stay, sometimes.”

“I know, my Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying smiles back, tangling his fingers in Lan Wangji’s loose hair. “A-Lan outgrew another pair of socks last week, and I almost cried over them.”

Lan Wangji tries not to sniffle at the mere thought of it.

“Should we send the socks to Xiongzhang, then?” he wonders aloud, pulling Wei Ying a little closer. “Jueying must still be too small for them, but she will grow.”

Inexplicably, Wei Ying laughs and shakes his magnificent head.

“Not yet, my heart’s delight,” he says gravely, with the mirth in his eyes belying his voice. “Not yet.”

__

A-Lan’s lotus disappears from the bedroom by the time they return to the Cloud Recesses, secreted away in some hidden place that she refuses to tell her parents about. She refuses to say what happened to the plant, or why she decided to move it in the first place: but she appears to have some kind of plan for the flower’s future, which she shares with no one but her two older brothers.

There seems to be some kind of grand occasion involved, though Lan Wangji has not the slightest idea what; and by the time his forty-first birthday arrives, two months later, he has nearly forgotten about the whole business.

Birthdays are usually rather laid-back affairs in his household, save for Xiao-Yu’s and A-Lan’s. Sizhui likes to celebrate his birthday in town with Jingyi and Jin Ling and Ouyang Zizhen, reserving the private birthday dinners for his family; and Lan Wangji’s birthday banquet is no different, taking place on the Hanshi’s screened porch with a few sumptuous noodle dishes prepared by Wei Ying, and with no one beyond his family in attendance.

“That still makes ten of us,” Wei Ying reminded him, red-cheeked and glowing in the light of the glass lamps by the door. “My darling, you’re going to be drowning in presents.”

And he was, since even Jingyi brought him a covered basket filled with gifts. Shufu commissioned a new copy of Lan Wangji’s favorite book, and Xichen gave him a white-jade ring and pair of cream-colored hunting boots; and Wei Ying’s gift was a volume of candid portraits, no less than a hundred of them, which he completed in secret over the last year and a half without Lan Wangji being any the wiser.

“I will not sleep tonight until I have looked at them all,” he murmurs, when Wei Ying swoops down to kiss him under the pretense of wiping a smudge of dark sauce away from the corner of his mouth. “Thank you, xingan.”

“No, no!” A-Lan cries from Lan Xichen’s lap, struggling down to the ground with a noodle stuck to her collar. “Papa, no get up! A-Lan has another gift!”

“Ah?” Lan Wangji blinks, watching with some confusion as A-Lan drags Sizhui off his chair and scrambles into the Hanshi. “En, very well. I promise not to move, Lan-bao.”

So he waits, sitting patiently at Wei Ying’s side with one hand clasped in his husband’s. At length, A-Lan trots back outside with A-Yuan trailing behind her, carefully carrying the old red flowerpot that held her tiny lotus sprout—but the sprout has grown into a full-blown flower, with its lush pink petals standing almost a foot over Shuilan’s fluffy head.

“Papa, happy birthday!” she cries, as Sizhui sets the pot down at Lan Wangji’s place at the table. “Hua-bao’s your present.”

“Oh, A-Lan,” Lan Wangji chokes, gathering her up into his arms. “Baobao, are you sure you want to give your flower to me? You took care of her so well, sweetheart.”

“Hua-bao is for Papa,” the little girl insists. “She’s a gift from Lan-bao, and meimei.”

“Meimei?” Lan Wangji glances over at small Lan Jueying, fast asleep in her swaddle on Shufu’s back. “You mean from your Jueying-tangmei? That is very kind of you.”

“Not Ying-meimei! Papa didn’t listen to A-Lan!”

She squirms off his knee and toddles over to stand by Wei Ying, pressing her tiny palms to the front of the girdle wrapped around his waist.

“Not Ying-meimei,” she repeats, drawing her black brows together in a thunderous frown. “Not Qing-jiejie’s meimei. A-Lan’s meimei.”

And then, in answer to Lan Wangji’s look of utter bewilderment, she says:

“A-Lan’s meimei is here.”

Wei Ying gasps, one hand flying to his mouth; and across the table, Lan Xichen lets out a high-pitched squeak, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

“Ge, did you tell—”

“No! No, not a word,” Xiongzhang wheezes. “How could A-Lan have—”

Lan Wangji can’t quite tell if he’s still breathing.

“Wei Ying,” he pleads instead, throwing his heart and everything it holds into the two precious syllables of his beloved’s name. “Wei Ying, does Lan-bao mean that you—that we—”

Wei Ying looks up at him, his beautiful eyes shining with tears, and nods.

“I was going to tell you tonight, after Sizhui and the babies were in bed,” he chuckles, as the tears brim over and slide down his face. “Xichen-ge only noticed last week, but I suppose A-Lan must have been somewhere close by when he told me.”

“A-Lan wasn’t,” their daughter protests. “Meimei told Lan-bao she was coming, and then Papa helped plant my baby flower!”

In autumn? But it’s nearly the New Year now, Lan Wangji wonders, so overwhelmed that he wraps an arm around Wei Ying to keep himself upright. “Beloved, when do you expect the baby to arrive?”

“I thought late spring, or early summer,” Lan Xichen coughs, from the other side of the table. “So far, I’ve only taken his pulse and made sure the little one is healthy. A-Xian wanted to wait for you before seeing a healer practiced in midwifery.”

Lan Wangji presses a fervent kiss to Wei Ying’s brow.

“We will go tomorrow morning,” he vows, just as Sizhui finishes explaining the lotus flower’s significance to Xiao-Yu. “How do you feel, my love? You were sick so often during the first months with A-Lan, but if the child is due early this summer...”

“I haven’t been sick at all,” Wei Ying assures him. “Xichen-ge thinks I might have passed that stage completely, but I suppose we’ll find out after we visit Healer Liang.”

After that, the birthday banquet devolves into a storm of congratulations: and a storm in the nearly literal sense, because Sizhui spent nearly ten minutes sitting on Lan Jingyi to stop him from screeching in glee while Wangji and Wei Ying were talking, and now neither Jingyi and Xiao-Yu can be silenced any longer. A-Lan slurps up another bowl of noodles, seemingly satisfied with her work for the day, and falls fast asleep on Wei Ying’s shoulder; and after the plates are cleared away, Shufu comes over to embrace them both and ask after Wei Ying’s health.

“Ever since you entered this family, I have not gone a single day without thanking the heavens that you returned to life and married Wangji,” he says solemnly, while Wangji and Wei Ying are preparing to depart. “Bless you, child. Now go back home and rest.”

“Should I carry you, Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji asks gravely, as they begin the walk downhill. “Because I very much want to, at this moment.”

Wei Ying laughs and entwines their fingers together.

“Not yet, husband. After the little ones are asleep, my moon, you can do as you will.”

And then, so softly that Lan Wangji can scarcely hear it, he says:

“Your joy brings me all the happiness in the world, my Lan Zhan. Happy birthday.”

#wangxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #wangxian arranged marriage au #renouncement verse #my fic #this is over 2k words PLEASE reblog i am begging #morcai I am so sorry this prompt took so long #WELL over a year oh my god #but it's here now and I hope you like it!! #wei shuilan

[nerosdayinanime]

Sanemi & Giyuu were about 16-17 when they both individually went on an undercover mission in the Kaze no Kuni capital city, they henged/disguised as fake personas Kazura (vaguely derived from kaze, wind) and Nakuu ('to lose')

Kazura is supposed to be darker skinned + two-toned eyes like that of Kazan no Kuni descendants & is sensible and confident but lazy, Nakuu has a hairstyle + facial shape from Mizu no Kuni & an outgoing enthusiastic and pretty sly personality

Giyuu put some particular effort into his disguise and really got into the character he was playing up, he also had fun with it where he could- and thats how he met Kazura. i dont have or really want specifics of why where how or such bc it ruins the imaginative bit of it ig? but while they were on the mission they were meeting up, they both knew the other was disguised but neither pried about it. they fell in love a bit, however it means, but as Nakuu's namesake they were never going to last. it was a mission and when it was done they would leave for home and never meet again.

but then they did :)

at 19 sanemi and giyuu had a political marriage arranged(forced) by Kyogo being a greedy fuck and wanting more trade from the Tomioka, in both the Happy & Broken marriage paths giyuu's the one who notices sanemi acting the same way as kazura in some ways and realizes the two are one in the same. In the Happy marriage its a thought that brings a smile to his face and a jest about how they fell in love twice, in the Broken marriage its only twice the heartbreak after the apathy sanemi regards him with and the loneliness that consumes him

#kny clan au #kny clan au: arranged sanegiyu(Fluff) #kny clan au: arranged sanegiyuu(Angst) #Kazura & Nakuu #i like hurting giyuu<3 but i also want to be nice & im indecisive so Multiverse type shit like this happens #im trying to proper Write out the story i have but my skill isnt up to par with my vision. i'll post it anyway when im done tho bc i want t #Share the story and talk & think more about it bc its Fun #the idea for this actually came earlier before i thought of the arranged marriage bit- its the sngy mission meeting thing but changed #slightly with the timeline of the marriage(19) & sanemi murking kyogo(21) #in the orig they were older & i also didnt have the idea of major civilian cities/villages for the shinobi to do stuff in #also in the angst path sanemi isnt abusive like kyogo is hes just neglectful & since giyuu was essentially completely cut off from his #normal amount of casual affection and reassurances to Literally Nothing + the looming threat of kyogo's ire + different biology #he has no support aside from Nagisa(who is trying her damn best) and it wears on him mentally ykno? #then the one person he THOUGHT loved him turns out to actually not love *him* so it turns into a fantasy he desperately clings to. #just *someone* to love and support him for being *him* and not some character. #oh almost forgot to tag #sanegiyuu #also to be specific abt the arranged marriage part kyogo forced the tomioka's hand(marry or we decimate you & still get the trade routes<3) #but giyuu volunteered in place of tsutako. he wasnt against the idea of marrying but everyone was fearful of the shinazugawa's culture #and sent Nagisa with him as like. a helper. idk if it has a name. shes a beta well versed in medicine & secondary sex stuff so giyuu's not #COMPLETELY alone to deal with that surrounded by a bunch of people who know nothing about it. theyre formal with eachother as Tomiokas #but to the Shinazugawa they seem really close. mountain pass/southern culture is Very different. more communal and close-knit to #deal with the harsh environment of the mountains/cold

[sashaofravenlock]

Continued from X

@thegreatstrongbow

Send “a little close” for our muses to get stuck in a small space together

“I think we are stuck.” It was really a mistake to get her to follow him into the little niche – the perfect hiding place for a game of hide and seek, especially it was against Mablung. Sasha had gone first, smaller than him, and Beleg second. But his foot had slipped, and it was now wedged tightly in a gap in the stone, trapping them both.

“I can’t get my foot out. Fuck.” He squirmed, but it did not help. “Is this a bad time to admit I am claustrophobic?”

“What do you mean we’re stuck?” Panic edged her voice as she wiggled in the tight space beneath him, her body already trembling as she looked up and saw nothing but rock and Beleg. Why had she agreed to leave the kingdom or play a game in the forest? Obviously she was just going to ruin it for them all.

“Maybe I can help pull it out?” Sasha tried to reach for his foot but her fingertips only grazed his ankle. “Do you think Mablung will find us soon?”

#thegreatstrongbow #I am totally putting this in the arranged marriage verse because the idea of Beleg and Mablung trying to teach her how to have fun #only for Beleg and her to get stuck and potentially hurt in a confined location sounds hilarious to me

[leatherbookmark]

i love how passionate and emotional fic seongjoong is when irl they're like... an arranged marriage... lol

#not to say that they don't like each other or anything but. atz in particular seem quite aware (and not hiding it) of the practice of #ships -- not as in 'fans produce fanworks of you' but rather 'fans like your dynamics! play it up a little' #and the leader + the second 'highest' member are almost always shipped together as the 'mom' and 'dad' #which kind of doesn't make sense because a marriage usually precedes having children but in kpop is like. well here's a group and you're #two eldest members so you automatically get the mom/dad positions. sometimes it works -- whether automatically or because the #aforementioned members feel the need to take care of other members as they're the eldest -- but sometimes the dynamic is clearly #just there for the fans. and i can't help but notice that a whole bunch of 'moments' in 'seongjoong compilations' are like... not authentic #moments of them enjoying their time together but them being awkward/having awkward banter/doing fanservice during fanmeetings #and that's Different from the organic air ie woosan have #this is not to make fun of seongjoong fans because I PERSONALLY put very dramatic seongjoong in my hashtag Fic Verse #but then my fic verse was kickstarted because of that hwalazia magic and a single line in atz diary from fever 1. so it is. shall we say. #not particularly canon-inspired. #but i WOULD kill and die for every single fanfiction in which seongjoong aren't romantic sweethearts at the first sight but rather Struggle #i feel like Struggling is this... sort of a facet of their Brand... and so is mutually taking care of each other lol #they're like. this arranged marriage couple who grew to care about each other. not like 'oh shit two months in i realized i'm incredibly in #love with my spouse!' but 'yeah yknow what i like you here. stay' #good afternoon everyone enjoy this meandering and probably incorrect analysis of a relationship between two kpop lads #shrimp thoughts

[whiskeysmulti]

Headcanon Drop- Gokudera! (Arranged Marriage AU)

Gokudera never left Italy until now and has yet to meet Tsuna and the others, Haru is the only one he knows so far. He is the heir to his father's famiglia when his dad retires which means he is not Tsuna's Storm and hasn't met the other guardians yet, and is now tasked with finding his own bride or to be forced to have to marry the last girl his father has chosen since he has rejected every choice his father made for his potential bride to now. He's around 16 and has to find a girl and court her when he runs into Haru. The two initially hate each other and don't realize that Haru is in fact the last woman his father chose and ultimately would end up his wife either way to form an alliance with the Vongola.

They are set up under a month long trial period of moving in together for him to court her and see if they would be able to stand marriage to each other.

He and Haru initially can't stand one another though he finds her attractive, just not quite his type, they do eventually fall in love after seeing the better sides of each other during the trial period.

This is just a general layout based on discord plotting with @queenharumiura and this list may be amended as the plot progresses in the thread.

#whiskey speaks; ooc #meta; hayato #verse; arranged marriage

[bhaalswn-arch]

⛓

Send “ ⛓ ” for an arranged marriage starter. ( ACCEPTING )

Moonridge. Ozus Moonridge. The marriage was set in stone, or preferably written in papers. Was this happening for the family? You do not know. You don't know Ozus' intentions. You eventually meet them after your meal. Your butler proud of what he made for you. But you bring no attention to it. You eat what you have to eat. Even though you wish you could eat something different. Something sweet. But you don't get what you want, you only do what it asked of you. To do this and that in the name of Bhaal, your Father.

But you wonder, as you see them entering the manor. What are your intentions? You think, squinting at Ozus. What do you want from this family? Money? Happiness? You won't get the latter, you thought again. Standing in front of the other now, you extend your hand for a handshake. "It's a pleasure to match the name to a face now. Alkas Caedes."

#[ 07 ] ── * ANSWERED ( 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 ) #[ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] ── * VERSE ( 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴. 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 ) #moonridge #( the what if ozus did this in hopes that their family may love them??? who knows ) #( i left it vague nevertheless dkjdf )