Don’t like that trope where women are forced into arranged marriages against their will for their family’s political advantage, it just reinforces the frankly sexist idea of women as overemotional and obsessed with romance to the point of stupidity, and neglects the reality of all the women throughout history who would gladly marry for power, riches and political advantage as long as the spouse in question wasn’t entirely awful, because ambition is not an inherently gendered trait, you gotta have a roof over your head, and that earl title suits your brother
Something about ambition being a virtue in men and a flaw in women, and how that kind of thinking also influences people’s perception of women in politics and business today
Maybe I’m just very ace, but I feel like if you’re going to sleep with someone, you might as well get an aristocratic title and a few estates out of it
If you’re a woman living in a society and belonging to a social class where getting married is the closest you’ll ever get to having a job, why wouldn’t you marry for social, political and financial advantage? Sure, your husband has a weak chin and the annoying habit of mainly talking about his hunting dogs, but the estates are gorgeous, the horses are fine, the servants are numerous, you’re dining with the Prime Minister and his wife, and you just used your connections to secure a viscount for your younger sister
See, this is my type of socially-awkward aro-ace.
I don’t got those attraction chemicals messing me up, so love is a choice. Why not have my parents choose for me? Saves a lot of work!
Of course, getting to be the spinster sibling with the attached bedroom to the lady of the house is also goals. My sister needs a companion! I shall answer the call!
Series Summary: Living in this life, you’ve never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you’re dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life of abuse while being kept under lock and key, you’re pleasantly surprised when Chris is nothing like you expected. He’s the most feared man on the East Coast, only brought to his knees by one thing and one thing only. You.
Warnings: language, alcohol, arranged marriage (chris’s family signs contract with readers family that promises their first born daughter to their first born son), parental abuse mentioned, age gap. Reader is 25, Chris is 35. Mention of running away. this series will have smut (18+ only, please)
A/N: I’m honestly in love with this series. I hope you guys enjoy!
W/C: 5.9k
Italian and Italian translation in italics.
likes, reblogs, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated! ❤
You sighed, laying your head on your best friend Lydia’s shoulder, both of you stretched out on her king sized bed. It was happening. The moment you’ve been dreading since high school. Tomorrow was your wedding day.
You knew this was inevitable. You’ve known this was coming for at least 10 years, but it didn’t make it any easier. Part of you always thought that maybe your mother would step in and reason with your father, put a stop to the wedding, but any time the conversation was breached, it ended with a new bruise somewhere on her body.
The contract that sat in the safe in your father’s office taunted you, day in and day out. No matter what you did, the fact of the matter was… you were already sold to the highest bidder.
“You’re gonna be a married woman. It’s crazy,” she finally spoke up, looking over at you. You’ve known Lydia since you were both in diapers, her father working in close contact with yours. Although you didn’t need that connection, you and Lydia were practically soulmates. Something tells you that you would’ve found your way to each other one way or another. Mafia ties or not.
There were 3 families in Boston that ruled the Italian mafia. Your family, the Ricci family, and the Evans family.
Your father owned just about every deli in Boston and while he didn’t directly tell you what he did, you knew enough to know that every deli was a front for something. Arms trade, drugs, even exotic pets.
The Ricci’s owned a bunch of Italian restaurants in the Boston area, the banquet halls put on a permanent reservation for the families to conduct their business in while enjoying fine dining.
And finally, the Evans family. The top tier of the Italian Mafia. The most feared man on the East Coast. The man you were going to marry tomorrow. He owned just about every nightclub on the strip. You knew that after Chris’s father had passed a few years ago and that the family business was signed over to him and that was about it. You definitely wouldn’t use the word shy to describe Chris, but he wasn’t a man of many words. He was also 10 years older than you at 35, so it’s not like you’ve really ran in the same circle. He was a mystery to you.
You groaned, scrunching up your face, “Don’t remind me. It’s not fair. I don’t–” you paused, your emotions taking over, “– I don’t even know him. Like… at all. And tomorrow, I’m gonna be his wife and live in his home and expected to… procreate with him,” you shook your head at the thought, “I’m gonna have to have sex with this stranger at some point.”
She looked up to her ceiling, “Well, at least he’s not bad to look at.”
You let out an unamused laugh. She wasn’t wrong. Chris was very attractive but you knew absolutely nothing about him. You’ve only said maybe two words to him in the 25 years that you’ve been alive and yet you were expected to live with him, share your life with him, and have children with him. Tomorrow, you were going to be his wife. The wife of a don. You didn’t know much about the life, but you knew enough to know that Chris was a dangerous man and the thought that he could be anything like your father made you sick to your stomach. You lived a life of abuse and were so close to getting out, but if Chris was anything like your father, you were just trading one angry don for another.
“What if he hits me?” You whispered, a few tears escaping from your eyes, “I can’t– Lyd, I can’t,” your lips quivered at the thought. Lydia knew your dad put his hands on you and your mother. But it wasn’t like anyone could do anything about it. Half of the Boston PD was on his payroll and the other half was too scared to do anything, there was no way in hell he’d get prosecuted for anything.
Lydia turned to face you, “Then we’ll run. We’ll pack our shit and we’ll leave.”
Royal AU. Amidst an escalating border conflict, hopeful allies offer a gift to the youngest son of the powerful, Todoroki royal family: a wife.
“Shouto, Oscana wishes to formalize an alliance. They’ve offered General Yaoyorozu’s daughter.” King Enji Todoroki pushed a series of papers across his desk. He held out a hand, and deposited the girl’s miniature in his son’s palm.
arranged marriage starker arranged marriage starker arranged marriage starker arranged marriage starker arranged marriage starker arrange marriage starker arranged marriage starker arranged marriage star-
Summary:A night hunt gone wrong leaves Wei Wuxian facing life without a husband and son. He refuses. Using an experimental array, he attempts temporal transmigration, but it goes wrong. He sends himself back to the age of ten, and the strain on his young body and mind requires another desperate use of resentful energy… which also goes wrong. A different sort of time travel fic.
My comments: Oh, wow, I loved this so much! I’m really looking forward to more in the series, because I could happily drown myself in 50k more words of it.
Wwx sends himself back in time, but this story is different, in that once he enters his 10-year-old self (which is pretty traumatic) he ends up with amnesia, so really IS just a child. The chain of events this sets off is fabulous. While he’s in a coma and things are touch-and-go, Madam Yu has an opportunity to examine her poor treatment of this boy in the past and set about making some changes. Because he’s crying out for “Lan Zhan”, the Lans are invited to try to clear away the resentful energy (they think it was cast at him as a curse in an attack), and Lan Qiren brings both his nephews.
The story covers about a season, and POV jumps around, which is wonderful, because everyone is GROWING. They are changing, their worlds are different, and they’re being exposed to different people and different ideas. Madam Yu and Lan Qiren go through perhaps the biggest development arcs, but seriously, EVERYONE is affected. (And none of this is done with a heavy hand, either: the focus is on the story, and the growth is all organic.)
Little Lan Wangji opens up like he never has before, Jiang Yanli starts to learn to be a healer and LQR teachers her musical cultivation… the ripple effect of change is simply fascinating. The Lans become less rigid, and the Jiangs more loving. And young wwx is the nexus and the catalyst. Especially when he ‘remembers’ a few things that make them believe he’s become precognitive.
time travel, fix it, child wei wuxian, madam yu is good, POV multiple, child lan wangji, hurt wei wuxian, sick wei wuxian, angst, amnesia, jiang family feels, caretaking, illness recovery, character growth, (all of them - they are growing and becoming better people), social change, adoption, lan qiren is good, sharing a bed, nightmares, emotional hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, doting lan wangji, street orphans, gege jiang cheng, didi wei wuxian, jiang wuxian, betrothal, arranged marriage, grief, sect politics, protective madam yu, protective lan wangji, protective everyone, favorite, @rosethornewrites
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Summary:When Jiang Yanli joins Jiang Cheng in visiting Wei Wuxian at the Burial Grounds, the two brothers are on the verge of cutting ties forever — until Jiang Yanli has a better idea. Wei Wuxian doesn’t need to leave the sect. He needs to get married, and she has the perfect Sect Leader in mind.
When Lan Wangji is invited to come along on Wei Wuxian’s visit to the Unclean Realm to spend time with his new betrothed, Nie Mingjue, he agrees — even though his heart is breaking. How else is he ever going to see Wei Wuxian again?
When Nie Mingjue welcomes Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji into his home, he realizes two things very quickly: 1.) They clearly want each other so badly they can barely stand it, and 2.) Nie Mingjue is Into That.
(In which arranged marriage to Nie Mingjue solves just about everyone’s problems)
My comments: Aahhh, this was a ship I never realized I needed in my life, but here we are. Author does it so well: in the context of the story, not only is it robust and believable, but it’s honest and loving and fun for all three of them. And if, in the process, the course of canon is changed such that everyone lives and the world is a brighter, happier place, than so be it. (Of course, there’s some angst and intrigue and machinations to get through first, but that’s requisite seasoning, imho.)
(Seriously. I’m very jealous and protective of my OTP wangxian, so it has to be a pretty special story if I’m willing and happy to share them with someone else. However, remember that your mileage may vary.)
canon divergence, OT3, niewangxian, raiarranged marriage, angst, pining, jealousy, but only briefly, POV multiple, courting, nie mingjue just says I’ll marry both of ‘em, flirting, golden core reveal, first kiss, first time, top nie mingjue, bottom wei wuxian, poor lan wangji has to wait a few months, fix it, domestic, friends to lovers, polyamory, fluff, xiyao, sect politics, jiggy being morally gray, sooo much threesome smut, light dom/sub, dom nie mingjue, dom lan wangji, sub wei wuxian, nie sect qi deviation issues, tenderness, joy, everybody lives, jin guangyao redemption, he’s a really interesting character, wen qing doing all the arcane and impossible medical procedures, happy ending, epic, podfic available, @giraffeter
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It is time for Legolas’ and Víriel’s wedding night, but neither of them has any experience about how to perform the physical act. Thankfully, they have received a particularly helpful gift from the Haradrim ambassador.
A lot of people ask me what my biggest fear is, or what scares me most. And I know they expect an answer like heights, or closed spaces, or people dressed like animals, but how do I tell them that when I was 17 I took a class called Relationships For Life and I learned that most people fall out of love for the same reasons they fell in it. That their lover’s once endearing stubbornness has now become refusal to compromise and their one track mind is now immaturity and their bad habits that you once adored is now money down the drain. Their spontaneity becomes reckless and irresponsible and their feet up on your dash is no longer sexy, just another distraction in your busy life. Nothing saddens and scares me like the thought that I can become ugly to someone who once thought all the stars were in my eyes.
this fucks me up every single time
I never expected this to be my most popular poem out of the hundreds I’ve written. I was extremely bitter and sad when I wrote this and I left out the most beautiful part of that class.
After my teacher introduced us to this theory, she asked us, “is love a feeling? Or is it a choice?” We were all a bunch of teenagers. Naturally we said it was a feeling. She said that if we clung to that belief, we’d never have a lasting relationship of any sort.
She made us interview a dozen adults who were or had been married and we asked them about their marriages and why it lasted or why it failed. At the end, I asked every single person if love was an emotion or a choice.
Everybody said that it was a choice. It was a conscious commitment. It was something you choose to make work every day with a person who has chosen the same thing. They all said that at one point in their marriage, the “feeling of love” had vanished or faded and they weren’t happy. They said feelings are always changing and you cannot build something that will last on such a shaky foundation.
The married ones said that when things were bad, they chose to open the communication, chose to identify what broke and how to fix it, and chose to recreate something worth falling in love with.
The divorced ones said they chose to walk away.
Ever since that class, since that project, I never looked at relationships the same way. I understood why arranged marriages were successful. I discovered the difference in feelings and commitments. I’ve never gone for the person who makes my heart flutter or my head spin. I’ve chosen the people who were committed to choosing me, dedicated to finding something to adore even on the ugliest days.
I no longer fear the day someone who swore I was their universe can no longer see the stars in my eyes as long as they still choose to look until they find them again.
This is so fucking important and I think it’s something I needed right now
➵ Summary: Back when they were in high school, Taehyung and Jeongguk’s grandparents made a pact. Taehyung just wishes that it didn’t force him to marry his rival.
selcouth (adj): unfamiliar, rare, strange — and yet, marvelous
➵ tags: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, model taehyung, photographer jungkook, sexual tension, light angst, pranks, humor, way too many marvel references
I made a rather naughty comic for ROGO for the Shendak Spring Fling exchange over at Shendak Central discord server. The prompt I chose was “arranged marriage”. Not as dark as my usual works. You can read it over at my Pillowfort since Tumblr ain’t nice with naughty stuff. https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/1226794
Summary: The Novak family was big talk,but not nearly as famous as the L/n’s. Togther they can be unstoppable,so what say family ties like guns,drugs,money,and murder?
Paring: Michael!Dean x Male!Reader
1900’s Mafia/Gangsters AU
A/N: this is a Micheal fic,but its him in Dean’s body so like…idk its the same snake different skin. Also Chuck is referred as Charles
Warning:Blood,guns,knives,gore,torture,swearing. Homophobic comments like just a few. No proof reading
The Novak’s that a family that was one of the most feared yet respected. The way people talk about them down south you’d think they were inspiration for the Bible itself. A man by Charles or Chuck Novak is the head honcho with five sons to help him run is kingdom.
The youngest is Castiel he was probably the nicest of all his siblings,but also the most protected with three other brothers, Gabriel is the definition of trouble and if he slipped up head could easily get lynched good thing he puts that silver tongue to work. Raphael was one of the more head strong,but sadly he was shot when several rivals attacked at on of their bars. Lucifer is the second oldest and the most hot headed with a temper to match the black sheep in his family if you will, then last,but not least Michael he was something else entirely the play boy,a demon is a flat cap and tailored suit.Now that the Novak’s have been introduced the world’s most feared gang the L/n’s is one family not to be fucked with.
(Father’s name) leading his kingdom no…empire with his wife (Mother’s name) and togther they had only two sons. The second born William and the oldest M/n. William wasn’t much involved with the criminal side of the business,but his big brother was the prime example of a gangster. No one besides the L/n gang has seen him he stays out of newspaper coverage and that only allows his terror to run ramped. A man with no face and a title of Satan himself made the oldest Novak just a little timid when he found out. “WHAT THE HELL!!!” Michael threw the newspaper on his fathers desk in anger the older man looked up after glancing at the paper. “I’m due to be wed to a L/n and none the less a man! I can be hanged for so much as saying I do and it IN THE FUCKING BULLETIN!!!” He was seething with hatred in every word. Michael will admit it hurt a lot finding out he was to be wed by the slight disgust look he got while grabbing the paper before getting coffee. “I wanted to tell you sooner,but you were handling something. There’s no way out of this a deal was made before you were born me and (Father’s name) have been waiting for his wife to bare a girl or your mother to do the same,but your mother’s untimely passing and (Mother’s name) having gone unfertial our oldest are due to wed.” Chuck sighed taking off his thin wired glasses.
“You two were once friends,but I guess time got rid of those memories.” Chuck sat down his spectacles down looking at his son. Michael turned to father with shock evident in his eyes. He was friends with M/n L/n the man with no face. Everything was too foggy. The shorter male stood up to a shelf in the office and grabbed a small match box opening it looking around before pulling out a picture. Handing it over to his son he sat back down. “He was one of the only people you’d go to when you were a baby. Heavens he was probably the only person you liked,but when he was five and you were three the fact that our business was centered around blood and there’s on bonds it became a fight,mafia versus a gang, and you guys saw eachother less and less till around the time Luci was born not at all.” Chuck sighed. The young man was in shock a little boy maybe two or three was cuddled up to a baby in a pale blanket that he remembered was blue fully awake and if the picture could come to life he’s sure the boy was humming all while rubbing the infants back.
“No ones seen a picture of him in twenty six years and he was on his fathers hip with a match box car. He’s in town and should be coming for dinner here by himself in three days time. So til then keep your brothers in check we don’t need them to shoot the young man with a stray bullet.” With that Charles dismissed his eldest son as the green eyed boy stormed off in a huff. Michael started to do digging. M/n L/n was in headlines weekly in every post known to man from shootings,assassination,and gangbanding to rumors of his love-life,what he wears,and people claiming to have met him. One thing caught his eye that made him falter. “Gangsters M/n L/n Captures Murderer” that when he started reading the full paper that crumbled a bit due to age. Maybe he’s not so bad the guy he caught never saw a courtroom,but met a far worse end all because he caused problems with his people. It was admirable the brunette knew he’d do the same,but not just for anybody. Marriage wasn’t settling well with him that didn’t mean it felt completely wrong.
One day later
Looking in the mirror Michael watched as his maid adjusted his tie while another smoothed the wrinking in his white button up and vest of his three piece suit. As the oldest he had business to handle people to keep in line. When their hands left his body they scurried out of the room rushing to be down stairs before him. His dress shoes met the floor as he grew closer to the door his youngest sibling ran up next to him. “Can I come,please!” His raven head of hair and doe blue eyes almost made him cave,but with a firm look he gazed down at him. “Sorry little raven,but I have things to handle another time.” The pout on Castiel lip didn’t move as he held up his hand his pinky out. “Promise?” Interlocking with the ten year olds pinky. “Promise.” With that he happily skipped away to play in the garden.
Out the door he went. His flat came on his head and coat thrown over his shoulder his effects tucked in his waistband. Screams caused him to smile as he stood before the butcher on payroll. He wore the man’s leather apron having abandoned his tailored suit jacket in the front of the deil. “Were is my money?” He cut the man some more as he continued to scream in pain the white fire from the rusted meat hook in his shoulder flaring with each jerked motion. “Help please!” He yelled all of a sudden in the past hour he hasn’t called for assistance. “No can do.” A deep voice said behind the oldest Novak turning around sharply his green eyes clashed with e/c. The man looked like anyone off the street his shoes tattered and clothing dirty form labor no bet. “I came for my five notes.” The didn’t seem fazed at the torture. “Fuck you gypsy scum!!” The pig of a man responded as the tall s/c man crept closer gripping a knife Michael was using. “I just unloaded a load of meat in the summer heat that would give the devil a sweat and all I asked for my effort was five notes nothing more nor less so cough of the money that you clearly owe both of us or I’ll carve it out of you and make you squeal like the piggy bank you are.” His tone dropped further the blade under the man’s fat chin and the Novak felt aroused at the threat. This guy meant every word when the hanging man spat in his face the off color of snuff and blood made the normally clear liquid seen and thick. Let’s just say Michael sat back crossing his legs in a attempt to compose himself as the man hit pitches not even the girls in the church choir could master. The heavy weight man forked over the money then some I got my full and he ended up giving the mystery man a hundred notes if he made the pain stop after pocketing the money he shot the man.
He turned around and began to leave when the brunette stopped him. “Wait! I give you my thanks friend he was stubborn for a hour almost” The h/c man turned looking at him giving a smile tilting his head for the Novak to follow as he stepped out the deli. Scrambling he walked down the street next to the man their attire clashing a well tailored suit next to rags that looked more like a potato sack then cloth. “Glad I could help a fine looking fella like yourself.” His flirtatious grin caused butterflies to run ramped in Michael’s guts. As they walked down the street they slowly moved from the good side of the town to the slums. No cars drove on the gravel a fire hydrine spat out water for all the children playing around it,women hung up clothes on wire between tenements and men looked more like the mysterious gypsy next to the Novak. Speaking of the mystery man he went to each crowded tenements door and knocked the women or young men of the families came to the door and he handed over twenty notes each. The women cried and clung to his tall figure and the boys almost men looked at him in wonder like a hero before running off to tell the adults of the place. “Why did you do that?” Michael asked as they walked out of the town. “You worked for that money and gave it all away.” He was confused he’s never seen a man work for a family that wasn’t his own.
“They need it more. Schools out the children don’t get meals and the men work hard to feed them at least a meal a day. I’m alone here no lover or children with the energy and muscle to work.” Novak wasn’t sure before,but he was sure now this was love and it felt better then any harlot he could spend the night with. “Thats very admirable of you.” Michael complmented which was not a normal accuracy. “It was truly nothing to admire,handsome. I’m not saying I’m amazing,but sometimes I’m decently above average. That’s what people need someone decent enough go care.”
Before he knew it they were back on his side of town and getting closer to the business. “It’s been a pleasure,Mr. Novak.” The man dripped his head as he turned to leave somewhere. “You know who I am and I don’t even get a name.” He turned back around and got closer to him his chest pushed up against his till he was pinned to the wall he leaned down his lips so close to his face just out of reach. “I’m N/n,but you can call me the man of your dreams.” Michael almost leaned up to peak his lips when the warm body pulled away taking with it the lust filled tension. N/n turned and left out of sight that night was full of the man tossing and turning dreaming of the e/c man that made him feel high as the clouds above. N/n smiled as his men drank around him he finally saw his baby boy all grown up and he’s taking what’s his this time.
Two days later=Six Hours Before Family Dinner
The buzz of the New Yorker coming to Kansas was the rage. Any man that was new in town was watched like a hawk by commoners and the Novak’s. Michael was no longer looking forward to this marriage he didn’t want this man no matter who he was. N/n stole his heart like a petty thief and ran away from him. No one in Kansas knew who he was a s/c skinned,h/c haired,e/c eyed gypsy was all he had to go on no last name just a image that burned bright in his mind. Michael sighed as he left his office and went down to the bank he needed enough cash on hand to throw away on booze and maybe angel dust. People parted for him like the red sea and he easily got money when gun shots went off. The teller in front of him fell to the ground wounds ridding his body and Novak turned to see men…no boys with guns.
“Everyone get down on the ground. We’ve come only for the money we won’t hesitate for blood as well.” The group chuckled as the leader smirked people shook as they easied to the ground all except Michael who stood tall. “Ah! If it isn’t Michael Novak no men to protect you now.” A man he didn’t realize came behind him hit him over the head with his gun causing him to fall to his knees. “Pathetic.” The band of thugs leader grabbed the Mafia bosses chin looking and the blood coming from his brow. Someone stood from on their knees a flat cap covering their hair and a long trench coat that was only slightly open. “It would be in your best interest to leave,boys.” They all train their guns at the man. “Why’s that,you motherless bastered?” The man turned his gaze upward deadly sharp e/c orbs looked at him and Michael was in shock it was N/n. “Cause I have twelve guns ready to blow holes in you and your men.” After his words ten men stood up all wearing the same clothing flat caps,overcoats,and suspenders with a Tommy on every man except the leader. The cowardly man looked frightened looking around keeping his gun on the s/c man. “I only count ten I still have the upper hand.” N/n gave a devilish smile that made Michelle gaze on love struck and excited for what’s to come. His gray trench coat hit the floor and two sawed-off shotguns in each hand. “Upper hand you say?” He pulled both triggers the left one killing the man sending himself flying back and the right killing the man behind Michael blowing his brains painting the tan walls this made the others fire as well. The bodies of the criminals and one civilian litter the floor.
N/n sent the men off to get the people out as he walked up to the bleeding Novak. “Thank you.” His green eyes gleamed making the standing man give a grin as he held his hand out to help him up. “Consider it a gift from M/n L/n.” The gleam disappeared from his eyes his soon to be husband was in town has been in town and set his men up to keep him safe. “Now if I’m not mistaken you have a dinner to get ready for,pretty boy.” He takes the handkerchief out of his waist coat dabbing the blood away. “Will you be there?” Michael voice sounded weak so full of hope. “You can count on it. We’ll be seeing eachother alot more.” The man stood up and quickly left and not a moment later Mafia men came in running tending to the boss. Looking longingly at the piece of cloth (Your Initials) were sowed into the reddend white square of fabric.
Family Dinner was about to start the Novak’s sat at the table Charles sitting at the end his three eldest sons to his right while his youngest sat to the left two spots were available one across from Michael and the other on the opposite end of Charles. A maid came in the dinning hall and cleared her throat. “The L/n’s are here.” Two young men came through the door one taller then the other the shorter of the two sat across from Michael while the other sat at the other end of the table closest to Michael and the other man. Charles smiled at them both and Michael was in a state of shock. “M/n been a long while hasn’t it?” The oldest Novak looked at the man infront of him waiting for a response when the man he thought to be just a gangster working under the L/n’s answered. “That it has Chuck. Sorry father couldn’t come he had some other business to handle.” N/n or M/n now to Michael’s knowledge said before placing a hand on the man beside him. “This is Benjamin or Benny my right hand man don’t mind him.” The man gave a nod of acknowledgment his blue eyes piercing. “Heard about the blood bath at the bank quite impressive from what Michael has told me.” A side smile and a teasing look was turned the mentioned Novak’s way. “Saw low life scum trying to rob the place and touching what’s mine,their little toys they call guns were child’s play compared to my men.” M/n sent a wink addressing the men hitting Michael from behind.
“Are you a knight that saves people?” The youngest asked his blue eyes wide in wonder. The s/c males eyes turned to the child a warm smile gracing his lips. “Sometimes when I want to be.” A bubbly giggle rang out. “You saved Mikey making him your prince.” Those words caused different reactions from all the men. Gabe covered his mouth trying not to laugh at his older brother,Lucifer grinned leaning over to his brother. “Did he have to kiss you sleeping beauty?” He chuckled lowly making kissing noises in his ear,Micheal was beet red as he couldn’t bear to face any of them,Chuck smiled looking at his son and son-in-law,Benny nudged his boss sliding something to him while everyone was distracted. “Yeah and I’m gonna make him my king and take him to my castle.” M/n leaned towards the boy and whispered in his ear. “We’ll ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after.” Castiel was gobsmacked as he gazed at his brother all giddy he was gonna live a fairy tale like in all the books their mother use to read. “Um if you’ll excess me. I need some air.” Micheal stood up and not long after M/n followed when given a reassuring nod from Charles.
The garden of the estate was beautiful in the moonlight and it wasn’t hard to spot the oldest Novak on a bench on looking the pond that reflected the night sky. “You knew the whole time who I was.” Micheal didn’t look up at the man as he sighed. “Yes I knew who you were…we were once closer then the stars and the skies itself.” The L/n sat next to him on the bench looking forward. “Chuck knew as well.” Michelle turned in shock at that statement a goose chase for nothing. “He didn’t know what I looked like now,but letters everyday asking about you seemed to do the trick.” Those e/c eyes turned to look into those apple green ones. “Learning from a young age that in you grasp was the person you were due to wed was shocking I almost hated you,but the moment you grabbed my finger as if I’d slip away made me realize it can’t be so bad.” M/n held out his hand palm up so the younger male rested his hand in his grasp. “I was afraid at first you’d hate me. So I swore to protect you always. Some of my men live here with their families and they keep me posted. Just last year a rat was found on you door step admitting his faults.”
Micheal remembered that the maids came rushing to get the family and a man bloody and beaten spilled his guts about planning to cross the family having been hired by a rival Mafia to get information to attack them at a weak state. “I know this won’t mean munch to you know,but maybe at some point you’ll be happy to carry my last name and call yourself my husband.” In M/n hand that wasn’t interlocked with Micheal’s he opened a box revealing two wedding bands both were silver while one had a gold trim and the other had a f/c trim. “No matter what,Novak,I’ll be there when yiu need me through it all most of the times guns blazing.” M/n chuckled lightly taking in a deep breath. “Just ponder on it,pretty boy,I'llbe here waiting.” as he slipped the ring on the silent man’s finger before doing the same with himself he gently kissed the top of his head as he stood up and left wanting to give him space. Micheal smiled at the ring that perfectly fit his finger. The one man he felt attracted to was his guardian angel always there no matter what.
Lifting his hand up he kissed the metal band as a laugh left his lips. “My angel with a shotgun.”
today, i offer a gaara/ofc story for @munofsilver. thank you for letting me get to know calesta & for your generous donation!
lovely art of gaara & calesta by the supremely talented @kankuroplease who i am still shocked to be able to work with because i’m just as starstuck by her as i’m sure the rest of you are.
Title:Shifting Sands Summary: Gaara and Calesta adjust to their arranged marriage. Word Count:3,513 Warnings: gaara/ofc, arranged marriage au
if you’d like a custom fic of your own please read the post linked at the top and send me a screenshot of your donation! <3
Marriage hadn’t really been in Gaara’s plans once he became Kazekage. In truth, it had never really been on his mind at all, even before that. For most of his life, hoping for any kind of happiness had seemed like an entirely foreign concept, especially if it revolved around affection or family.
Calesta could not say the same. Of course, she’d considered what it might be like to be a wife one day. But that had been a long time ago, when she’d been a naïve genin of Konohagakure. And never had she expected she might one day find herself the wife of the leader of a powerful village beyond the Land of Fire.
She didn’t see her husband as often as she once dreamed she would. But then, she had always expected she would marry a person of her choosing because she loved them, not that the elders of her village and her future husband’s would decide on their behalf.
“Good morning.”
Calesta turned to find her husband entering the kitchen, a polite smile tugging at the corners of his mouth; something friendly, but still detached in a way she could not quite place, and it made her stomach feel sour around her small breakfast.
“’Morning,” she said softly.
Gaara regarded his spouse with a cool detachment, still unsure of how to approach her. He still knew so little about her, still felt as though they were half-strangers despite sharing a house and promising their lives to one another.
“I’m sorry I came home so late,” he said, ducking his head as he did so. His work had kept him long into the evening again, and he felt acutely as though he was failing in some way to be the sort of partner Calesta deserved.
“It’s okay,” she said, turning to send him a thin smile that did not quite reach her eyes.
He sighed, resigning himself to yet another stilted conversation as they both ate their meal.
“How was your training session with Maki yesterday?”
Calesta’s muscles still screamed from the difficult sparring session, but she was reticent to let her husband know—he was so strong, and she refused to admit she could not rival him in strength. Even if her kekkei genkai was better suited to a supportive healing role, she still felt inadequate sometimes in comparison to him.
So, she decided to provide only a neutral response. “It went well.”
Gaara’s grip tightened around his chopsticks.
Calesta was a lovely woman, someone he had come to admire a great deal since he’d been betrothed to her. But they still had not found a good rhythm between them. Every time he attempted to get to know her better, to ask her probing questions that might prompt her to open up to him, he received only clipped non-answers. As much as Gaara did not like to admit it, he sometimes found it frustrating.
They finished the remainder of their meal in silence before Gaara departed for the Kazekage’s office to begin another long and arduous day of work.
“Have a good day,” he said as he slipped on his shoes.
“You as well, husband.”
Gaara turned and walked out the door before Calesta could see the frown on his face at her address.
For Calesta, most days in Suna were spent in solitude. Occasionally, she would have a training session with Maki or another of Gaara’s most trusted shinobi. But generally, she was left to her own devices and allowed to entertain herself as she decided (though she also realized acutely she was constantly under guard; as wife of the Kazekage, it was expected).
She took her time getting ready for the day, bathing and dressing. As she wandered through their house, she was always struck by how sparsely decorated it was. As Calesta understood it, she and her husband had moved into the home together after their wedding—she was not sure where Gaara had stayed before, but she found it difficult to believe it could have been so… empty.
Sometimes when she was out and about in the village, she considered purchasing a wall hanging or piece of furniture to bring home, but she always hesitated.
What if Gaara didn’t like it? What if she overstepped her boundaries?
She could not have known Gaara felt the same, that the walls remained bare and only the most basic of furnishings stood in each room, because he, too, was afraid to decorating in a way she would not approve of.
Calesta sighed, resigning herself to another lonely day of exploring her new home. The village of Sunagakure was too hot and dry for her liking, the barren sands devoid of much foliage. She smiled as she thought of the lush green forests surrounding Konoha, of the many beautiful wildflowers in its fields.
There were no such lush places here, at least none she’d yet discovered—only cacti and succulents, sturdy plants well-suited to the arid climate, but intimidating with their barbs and spines and seldom-seen flowers.
Despite the warm welcome she received in Suna, Calesta could not deny that it still did not feel quite like home. Of course, it was expected she would have to live here; Gaara’s position made it impossible for him to relocate. Still, she could not help but feel a little homesick when she stared out at the vast dunes, wishing for seas of green instead of tan.
All day, Gaara’s thoughts drifted to the too-quiet breakfast he had shared with his wife that morning, the stilted half-responses she had provided to his questions.
The way she called him husband instead of Gaara as if she were more comfortable with his title than his name.
He supposed he should be grateful she did not call him Lord Kazekage, at least. For once, Gaara was glad to have his surly thoughts interrupted by his brother Kankuro when the latter barreled his way into the Kazekage’s office in the afternoon.
“How goes it, brother?”
Kankuro flopped himself onto a sofa along the far wall, draping his body over it like a rather inelegant throw.
“I have work to do, Kankuro,” Gaara said tersely, masking his genuine relief at having someone to distract him from his dire ruminations. “Did you need something?”
Kankuro didn’t answer immediately and Gaara finally glanced up from his paperwork to find the puppet master smirking mischievously.
Gaara laid his pen down and levelled his brother with a serious look. “What is it?”
“I’m here to tell you you’ve received an invitation from Konoha for a dignitary visit to discuss further relations between our villages and countries in the wake of your recent… matrimony.” Gaara did everything but roll his eyes; Kankuro had no end of sarcastic commentary about his younger sibling’s arranged betrothal. “Between you and Temari, it’s a wonder we don’t just merge the two villages together. Sun-noha-gakure,” he said, grinning as he spread his hands wide.
“Did the Rokudaime say when I was expected?” Gaara asked, turning his eyes back to his paperwork and ignoring his brother’s jibe.
“Next week,” Kankuro said, disappointed he was unable to get a rise out of his younger sibling, but recognizing the silent plea in his brother’s evasive response to move on.
Gaara grunted in recognition.
“Will you bring Calesta with you?”
Gaara’s sharp eyes darted up to his brother to find him no longer smirking, but instead looking sincerely curious and well-meaning.
“I will leave that decision up to her,” he said, “though I imagine she’ll be happy for the opportunity to visit.”
With that, Gaara returned to his paperwork and passed the rest of his day in amiable half-conversation with his brother before Kankuro eventually excused himself to more interesting endeavors.
Gaara had been correct in assuming Calesta would jump at the chance to visit Konoha with him. As they made their way toward the Land of Fire, he could feel the way her entire demeanor changed the closer they got.
Calesta could not stop the broad smile that overtook her features when the gates of Konoha finally came into view.
Home.
She felt as if the knot in her chest that had rested there since she had last departed through them was finally loosened—she could breathe again.
The following days passed in a flurry of meetings and activity for Gaara, who sparsely saw Calesta while she filled her days and nights with visits to friends and spending time at her mother’s house. She stayed there most nights, leaving Gaara to stay in his dignitary accommodations alone.
Though he did not begrudge her visits, it suddenly felt strange to be in a space so large alone, though beforehand he would have thought nothing of it. To fill his evenings, he often invited Temari and Shikamaru over for dinner so he could catch up with his sister and her husband. They inquired after Calesta and he told them where she was.
“Why aren’t you with her, Gaara?” Temari asked. Gaara shrugged, but his discomfort made it obvious to his older sister, who smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re intimidated, Lord Kazekage,” she teased, giggling when her words induced Gaara to blush.
He did call on his mother-in-law one evening soon after. Celeste was the polar opposite of her daughter—rather than reserved and soft-spoken, Celeste was brash and loud, a drinker with a penchant for singing when she was feeling tipsy (and most other times).
Dinner at the house was a strange affair by all accounts, with Calesta smiling benevolently as Celeste peppered Gaara with questions about his meetings and Suna.
“Tell me, son, how are you enjoying Konoha? You’ve been here many times before, is that right?”
“Yes, I’ve made many visits here. The first time I came was during my chunin examinations.”
A stark silence fell over the table for a moment as everyone refused to acknowledge the circumstances surrounding the visit, though all were familiar with them.
“I’m sure my daughter is glad your subsequent trips involved less bloodshed.”
Calesta coughed around a mouthful of food as she tried not to choke on it. Leave it to her mother to say such a thing to the Kazekage, to say nothing of the fact they were now a family bound by marriage and duty.
“That would make two of us,” Gaara said, hopeful that his cheeks were not as red as his hair as he tucked back into his meal.
Even following the awkward exchange, Gaara couldn’t help but notice how different Calesta was seated with her mother. Her answers were still brief.
When Celeste asked her how she found Suna, she replied simply with, “Welcoming,” and when pressed for further details, “very hot.” But there was a lightness about her she did not have when it was just the two of them, as if a great tension between her shoulders had dissipated.
After Calesta helped her mother clean up following their meal, she accompanied Gaara back toward the accommodations the Hokage had provided for them. She’d avoided it, mostly, feeling strangely out of place in such a refined space while she was in her home village.
“Thank you for coming with me,” Gaara said when they were about halfway to their destination, “I’m glad you seem to be enjoying yourself.”
They both walked with their hands clasped behind them, as though afraid to brush their fingers accidentally against the other’s.
“I am, thank you.”
Gaara scrambled for something more to say—for a thread of conversation that might draw more than a few syllables from his companion.
For once, however, Calesta beat him to it. They wandered under a tree with fragrant purple blooms, and she stopped to admire them, leaning forward to inhale their lovely scent.
“I do miss the foliage sometimes in Suna,” she said. Her voice was so quiet, Gaara wondered if perhaps he was not supposed to hear it. And truthfully, Calesta hardly registered she was speaking aloud. “It’s nice to be surrounded by all my favorite plants again.”
Once they’d readied themselves for sleep and climbed into their bed, staying as usual, as far away from one another as was practical, Calesta asked, “Do you have more meeting with the Rokudaime tomorrow?”
Gaara smiled, “Actually, I’m meeting with some old friends tomorrow. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”
“Oh, no,” she said, “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” And she rolled onto her side without inquiring any further. “Goodnight, husband.”
He frowned as he turned off the light. “Goodnight.”
Gaara was sometimes surprised he had never met Calesta during any of his previous visits to Konoha, given there was some overlap in their acquaintances. The following afternoon, he slipped into a quiet restaurant to wait for Rock Lee.
Lee was the sort of friend Gaara never could have foreseen. That such a lively and jubilant man would enjoy his own sullen company still seemed ludicrous. But when the other man walked into the restaurant, it was impossible not to see how happy he was to be passing the afternoon with Gaara.
With him was a woman named Tenten who Gaara knew only peripherally, but who had always been friendly enough.
As Lee crushed him into a hug, Tenten hid a laugh at Gaara’s expense behind a hand before asking, “Is it okay if I join you? Lee said you wouldn’t mind.”
After having grown up so isolated and alone, Gaara knew better than to ever turn down the opportunity to improve an acquaintance, and Tenten was quite happy when he agreed.
The three enjoyed their meal slowly, catching up and discussing the most pressing topics of his dignitary visit to Konoha. Eventually, some of the conversation diverted to Calesta, who was close friends with both Lee and Tenten before she departed for Suna as Gaara’s bride.
It was then an idea struck Gaara as he wrestled with his frustrations over being unable to properly connect with his new wife.
“You’re both close with Calesta,” he said and they nodded. “She’s very withdrawn and I know the circumstances of our relationship might be difficult for her, too.”
His companions waited in patience silence for him to continue.
“Could you tell me more about her? I want to make her life in Suna as happy as I can, but so far, I feel like I’m falling short.”
Lee and Tenten leapt at the opportunity to tell Gaara all about their friend—her likes and dislikes, the little things he might do to improve her daily life and make it clear that even if their marriage had been arranged by others, it was a situation which made him quite happy.
Gaara took a sip of his tea to hide the wide smile that Lee and Tenten’s enthusiasm elicited.
When Gaara told her she should stay behind in Konoha for a few additional days while he returned to Suna, Calesta was torn on the matter. On the one hand, she was quite happy for another few days with her mother and friends. On the other, she could not help but worry it was an indication that her husband preferred to spend time without her.
When Celeste asked her daughter how she was finding her new life, she almost broke into tears.
“My husband is kind and quiet,” she said, “but I’m afraid I don’t know how to do this.”
Rather than dwell on her darker thoughts, Calesta distracted herself with long walks admiring the blooms of the trees and flowers surrounding her home village. She breathed in the air, enjoyed a torrential rainstorm. She’d nearly forgotten how much she enjoyed the rain, Suna’s dessert climate being so dry. When she did finally arrive in Sunagakure again, it was to find the house empty. Gaara, no doubt, was working in his office.
Her home here seemed especially vacant and silent in the wake of her flurry of visits and catchings-up while she’d been in Konoha. Calesta decided to spend some time in the yard to improve her mood before she began making dinner.
But when she stepped outside, she could not staunch the shock on her face or in her heart when she saw what was there.
Before she and Gaara had departed, their backyard had been a craggy, sandy garden of cacti and succulents pitted between rock walls. It was perfectly suited to the dry climate, offering what little greenery was available under such circumstances.
But in the days since they had been away, apparently some construction had been undertaken. And now, Calesta stood gaping at a beautiful greenhouse. Even from without, she could see all the plants adorning the inside and she rushed to the door and pulled it open to examine the full extent of this new extension of her home.
The interior of the greenhouse was humid and warm, the entire space filled with familiar flora—fruit trees and bushes and flowers she had only recently left behind in Konoha.
“Do you like it?”
Gaara felt a little bad for startling Calesta, but the embarrassed look of surprise on her face was well worth it, he realized, when he saw the pretty blush spread over her cheeks as she turned toward him.
“It’s…” but she couldn’t finish the sentence, her words stalled in her throat. Gaara stepped forward, hands clasped politely behind his back, “I know you have a fondness for flowers and thought this might help you feel a little less homesick.”
Calesta’s eyes were bright with happy tears, her cheeks pulled taut in a wide smile of surprise and gratitude.
“Thank you, husband.”
Gaara’s spine stiffened a little and he took a cleansing breath before he said. “Please, Calesta, call me Gaara.”
She bit her lip and ducked her head a moment, but when she looked back up at him, he saw the resolve in her gaze and admired it.
“Thank you, Gaara.”
He couldn’t help but let his own smile reflect hers.
As they returned to the house side-by-side, Gaara cleared his throat and admitted, “I may have one other surprise waiting for you inside.”
“Oh?” Calesta was still so overwhelmed by the addition of the greenhouse she was not sure she would survive another such offering from her husband.
When they entered the house, Gaara led her to a back room that had, as far as she was aware, been used for storage of old weapons and scrolls. But when he opened the door, he revealed a newly cleaned room with bright walls. Several canvases and every manner of painting supply she could have ever hoped for waited for her beyond the threshold.
“I saw Lee and Tenten while I was in Konoha,” he said, “they mentioned you enjoyed painting and I thought…” Gaara trailed off, his green eyes flicking away from Calesta’s as if he were embarrassed by what he was going to say next.
“You thought what?” she prompted gently.
“Well, we need some decorations for our walls, don’t you think?”
Calesta beamed and nodded in agreement.
After her return to Suna, Calesta did not find her days lonely or dull, even if she still spent them mostly alone.
She busied herself with caring for the plants in the greenhouse, pruning and trimming and watering them to keep them all healthy. She found it was now her favorite place in Suna and she would spend long hours there tending the plants and feeling comforted by their familiarity.
Her studio slowly filled with small canvases as she found her artistic footing again. It had been a long time since she’d painted seriously and though her hands were not as deft at once, eventually she found her rhythm and voice again, sweeping her brushes over the canvases Gaara had procured for her, knowing she was working toward being able to surprise her husband as sweetly as he had her.
Gaara came home one evening to a house even quieter than usual. The lights were mostly off, which he found odd, but not disquieting.
As he removed his shoes, someone in the next room flicked on the light and he entered to find Calesta standing there, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she smiled.
“Welcomehome, Gaara.”
The strange emphasis did not escape his notice, but he hardly had time to linger on it as his eyes were drawn to the brightly colored canvas hanging on the wall behind his wife.
It was colorful and brilliant in a way that starkly contrasted the neutrals of the rest of their home, as yet untouched and unadorned.
And when he realized the subject matter of the painting, Gaara couldn’t help but smile again. Because there he was, sitting in the greenhouse with Calesta, both of them looking utterly content.
Calesta watched his response, happy to have induced something so warm and affectionate in the turn of his mouth and the expression in his eyes. In that moment, Gaara knew they would be okay, that they would learn to make Suna the best home possible for both of them. And Calesta knew it too.
Request: Wattpad- All I ask is that the reader is a girl.
Word Count: 414
Author: Charlotte
Peggy sipped at her tea as you told her of the events of yesterday. The life of a woman in New York was generally uneventful, expected to be there as a polite well-mannered inferior to either her father or husband. You had luckily escaped marriage this long, barely being legal, and your parents wishing to let you have a year to find true love. You had found your true love, but you couldn’t tell your parents that as you were in love with your close friend Peggy.
The two of you would be happy together, spending most of your time together, being far more intimate that two women were allowed to be. Your year of searching for a husband had come to an end and your parents intervened, unbeknownst to them, forcing the beginning of the end of your relationship with her.
“What was he like?” Peggy asked, practically wincing at the thought of the question.
“Vile,” you stated. “Absolutely vile. He is only interested in my Father’s wallet, he barely even remembered my name.”
She let out a tut. Many of the men who were at the age to wed, cared mainly for the money they would receive through their marriage, their wife to be only being an asset to their new monetary gain.
“And you are to wed him?” She questioned.
“In the spring. My mother wishes for us to befriend each other before we are to be wed. I doubt I shall stand him more on our wedding day than I did on our first meeting.”
Peggy held a solemn express. “My apologies Y/N. You deserve so much better.”
You couldn’t help but smile at her. No matter if you were legally bound to another, your heart would always belong to Peggy. If the law didn’t interfere with that then the two of you would have been betrothed a long whilst ago.
“Oh, I do wish that I could be wed to you. Life would be far happier and joyous if I were allowed to show my love for you.”
She held you hand in hers, raising your knuckles to her lips.
“One day my love, hopefully we shall get our day in the sun so we can be happy,” she smiled.
“What it is to wish for a brighter day,” you sighed.
If only the law didn’t get in the way, but soon enough you’d lose your time with Peggy, forced to marry a man whom you cared not for.
[Super Villain] sighed as they let the door click shut. Today went off perfectly, but as far as [Super Villain] was concerned, it was an utter disaster.
They had dreamed of the day they would marry [Hero], they had told [Other Super Villain] many times of their plans to win their love.
They had never planned on [Other Super Villain] blackmailing [Hero] into marrying [Super Villain].
Now, they were left in the shards of their broken dreams in a loveless marriage. Maybe they could think of some way to win [Hero]’s love still..? No, the dirty looks and contempt radiating off of [Hero] the entire time shattered their hope even further. They stared silently at the door as they wallowed in their self-pity, only for their depressive thoughts to be broken by a giggle.
[Super Villain] blinked in confusion before pressing an ear to the door. For a moment, they thought their mind was playing tricks on them until it happened again, more giggling.
“I can’t believe I’m actually married to [Super Villain].” [Hero]’s gleeful voice, “I knew going to [Other Super Villain] was a great idea!”
I think one of my favourite tropes is “characters in a marriage of convenience are basically fake dating, because everyone else thinks they’re already madly in love, but really they’re experiencing a tentative friends-to-lovers slowburn”. It’s like 3 tropes at once and it’s my absolute jam.
I think one of the main reasons I love arranged marriage plotlines so much is because I am significantly less interested in how couples get together than I am in why they staytogether.
