#married au prompts

[youneedsomeprompts]

~ THEY'RE MARRIED ~ MARRIED LIFE PROMPTS

requested by: anonymous

Feel free to use and reblog!

Setting/scenario:

more non-verbal than verbal communication

being the most endearing spouse, even though they're not the 'marriage type'

needing the other's presence, even if they're each doing their own thing, but they have to be with each other

having a shorthand for everything

fussing over the other

being able to predict the other's moves

being able to predict the other's words

having the same conversation in a certain situation all the time

sharing responsibilities

teasing the other just because they can

always arguing about the same things

being a chill couple when there are others around, but getting touchy/freaky behind closed doors

feeling like they're missing a limb when they're alone

playing with their wedding band when they're thinking about the other

always considering what the other would think if they would be there Dialogue:

"I didn't sign up for this."

"Why did I know you would do that?"

"You know what I'll say."

"Who else should I annoy if not my wife/husband/spouse?!"

"Come back! I'm not ready to get up yet. So you aren't either."

"One more kiss, please!"

"Oh honey, come here!"

*staring at their sleepy partner* "How are you so adorable?" *barely able to open their eyes* "I've never looked nastier."

"You can't escape. You're bound to me for life!"

"... You were right." "Say that again!"

"Did you miss me?"

"Not that gain! I can't believe we're discussing this again!"

"Is that my shirt?"

"Don't worry, I'll be there."

"I'm home, sweetheart!"

[zoyalaaai]

two sides of the same coin or smth…

imagine arthur waking up after centuries & stumbling into a new world only to find a merlin who doesn’t remember him, but still wears his wedding ring around his neck as if it means something.

[disgracefulthings]

Au where SQQ and SQH get married for tax benefits before LBH gets out of the abyss, and after he returns and he and SQQ make up, SQQ realizes he wants to marry LBH and brings it up to SQH

Shen Qingqiu: We need a divorce

Shang Qinghua: What, noooo. I married you for less paperwork, not more!

Shen Qingqiu: What do you want me to do, have Luo Binghe be married to us both?!

Shang Qinghua: Technically, according to the paperwork, I'm married to you, so if you marry Luo Binghe, we both would be your spouse, but I wouldn't be married to Luo Binghe

Shen Qingqiu: 🤔

Cue SQQ's harem arc

[ggomos-maribat]

Tim Drake didn't particularly like the occult.

But Constantine said the two were their best bet against the demon uprising. The magic-user, howeover, refused to contact them himself, claiming that it was a bad idea to involve them, that they were better off dealing with the problem on their own than . . . outsourcing. Unfortunately, Tim (and the rest of the Batfamily really) was stubborn. If they had potential allies to help them, wouldn't it be worth to take the risk?

This mission to contact those people then dragged him to a downtown bar to talk to famous designer Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who he was ninety-five percent sure was one of the two Constantine was talking about.

Tim told himself that perhaps a little bit of sweet-talking would do. His hand inched closer to hers on the tabletop, but she immediately pulled away. "This night has been fun, Monsieur Drake." She smiled sweetly. "But I don't think my husband will appreciate me staying out late."

She showed him a glowing band on her finger, which Tim completely missed when they met. He, too, pulled away, cheeks turning pink. "Uhh, yeah, sorry 'bout that. Don't let me keep you."

Although Marinette had slipped out, he still had a mission to do.

He decided to follow her.

He knew of her potential danger, signified by the fact that she was walking on a dark, deserted, Gotham street by herself. He held his breath when she stopped right below a flickering lamppost.

She turned around, plump red lips stretching into a sinister smile. "That's quite sneaky of you, Monsieur Drake. Why don't you be direct with what you want, hm?"

And he took a step out of the shadows, dropping his act. "We need your help."

"Who told you about me?"

". . . John Constantine."

Her nose wrinkled. "That soul-whore? Figures."

Tim definitely didn't show it, but the way she stood, her mere presence was unnerving like a beast waiting to pounce. But at the same time, she was so unfairly beautiful even in the darkness.

Marinette smoothed down her hair. "What makes you think we're willing to help?"

Tim's eyebrows raised. "'We'?"

A sudden chill arrived with the wind, summoning goosebumps all over his skin. The lamp switched off in a blink, and when it turned on again, a shadow had appeared beside Marinette, which morphed into a human. Or at least he thought it was a human.

"Yes, 'we'," a new voice said. "She and her husband."

Fuck. The man was dressed in elegant clothes, a perfect match with his wife. His hair was slicked back but with strands softly falling on top of his ethereal eyes. Tim swore those were fangs under his pale lips, sharp like the gaze he was shooting at him. Both his deep blue eyes and Marinette's seemed to shine under the moonlight.

Tim was officially scared. He never did like the occult, but goddamn, the occult was causing his bi-panic.

[cinnabons-treasure-trove]

Cat Arthur: [sees Merlin sleeping]

Cat Merlin: [napping on a cushion Morgana bought for him]

Cat Arthur: "You know, you never used to sleep this much when we were humans." [Nudges Merlin with his snout, whiskers twitching]

Cat Merlin: [yawning, one eye open] "That's because I don't have to run after you cleaning your royal mess. Now let me sleep, this cushion needs my attention." [Closes eye, ready to sleep again]

Cat Arthur: [miffed at his mate beginning to ignore him, before climbing and laying on top of the black cat]

Cat Merlin: [sighing] "Seriously Arthur?"

Cat Arthur: [growls, roughly licking Merlin's ears and head in typical prattish response]

[merlinpotterandtherandom]

Harry and Draco have been secretly dating since 4th year and they manage to hide it pretty well, so well that not even his friends know they're in a relationship.

By the end of 5th year Harry and Draco have this huge argument, Draco knows that Voldemort will probably want to recruit him to the Death Eaters as a punishment for Lucius' failure so he tells Harry he wants to let that happen so he can be a spy to Harry and Harry, who has just lost Sirius, is not happy about it at all, Harry refuses to let Draco do it, Harry refuses to risk his boyfriend's life for something like this. But Draco manages to convince Harry to let him do it, Draco tells Harry that it's the best if Harry has his own spy so he can get unfiltered information. Harry still isn't happy about it, but after Draco did an unbreakable vow to run straight up to Harry if he felt he was uncovered or if Draco just feels like his life is in way too much danger, Harry ended up agreeing with Draco that it would be nice to have his own spy in the Death Eaters.

6th year comes around and Draco is a bit distraught by the task Voldemort gave him, so he tells Harry everything and shows Harry that Voldemort really did mark him, which he wasn't expecting Voldemort would do. Harry just gently presses a kiss close to the mark, 'cause he's afraid he's gonna accidentally activate the mark if he touches it, and then pulls Draco closer and kisses him and tells Draco he's gonna help him to fix the vanishing cabinet so Draco doesn't have to do it all alone. Harry really couldn't keep his eyes out of his boyfriend, he knew Draco was worried with his mother and with everything so Harry was really watching Draco like a hawk to make sure Draco was eating and sleeping. Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Dean, Seamus and basically all of the Gryffindors thought Harry was obsessed with and/or stalking Draco, and Harry was just like "No! I'm not stalking him!" and Hermione was like "So you admit you're obsessed then?" and Harry really didn't deny that he's obsessed, Draco is his boyfriend! Of course he's obsessed with his own boyfriend! But he couldn't tell Hermione that, so he just shrugged and moved on with the conversation. During all of this, Harry also insisted that Draco learns the Patronus, 'cause it's useful.

While Harry is with Hermione and Ron hunting Horcruxes, Draco is between Hogwarts and the Malfoy Manor. Draco sends Harry his patronus with information. Harry just smiles everytime he sees Draco's patronus, even though it usually brings bad news.

The battle of Hogwarts happens. Harry saves Draco from the Fiendfyre and Harry just can't control himself anymore and ends up pulling Draco closer and kissing him when they're out of the fire. Hermione and Ron are shocked when Draco actually just lets Harry kiss him and even kisses back. So when Harry finally kills Voldemort, he keeps ignoring everyone around him and keeps looking for Draco, Hermione pops up on Harry's side and points to a direction and says she saw Draco in there. Harry thanks her and runs to Draco, who he finds all alone outside the castle just staring at it and Harry just wraps his arms around Draco's waist and kisses Draco's cheek, Draco turns around after that and kisses Harry properly in the lips and then blurts out a "Marry me" and Harry is shocked so he doesn't answer immediately so Draco just starts trailing off about how scared he was when he saw Harry in Hagrids arms and how relieved he was when he noticed Harry was alive and how all of this just made him realize how short life can be and how he wants to spend the rest of his with Harry. Harry kissed Draco before he could say something else and said yes.

Harry testified for Draco, saying that Draco was his spy since the beginning, that Draco was never a real Death Eater and it was all part of their plan.

Harry and Draco's wedding happens just a week before they go back to Hogwarts for the "8th" year.

[anachilles]

“So, what’s the prognosis, Doc? Am I gonna live?”

Your firehouse buckies? 😍 or anything else with buck x bucky 💓

omg hi! and please yes give me all the excuses to write my firehouse!au buckies!! (for those who may not be familiar - this is firefighter!bucky and bartender/PhD student!buck) here's a little thing set significantly further along than where we're currently at in the actual fic lol. + shout out to @avonne-writes and their 'who's taking who's surname?' poll and the discourse for inspiring a little part of this lol. currently taking prompts from this list: [ x ]

"So, what's the prognosis, Doc? Am I gonna live?"

His voice hoarse and barely there, trust John to tease him even around the tail end of a thermometer, just as Gale went to pull it from his mouth.

'Suppose he can't be too sick if he still has jokes,' was the first thought that came to Gale's mind. The second thought though, sneaking up hot on the first's heels, was 'John would be cracking jokes on his damn deathbed so that really isn't as much of a reassurance as it should be.'

Gale squinted as he examined the numbers. The light was low in the early winter morning, the sun not having quite fully risen yet. He'd usually have switched even just his own bedside lamp on as he got himself ready to leave for the day, but with John's groan of protest that particular morning, he’d quickly switched off again.

It'd been a restless night, and even though they were both feeling the impact of John's tossing and turning, and the seemingly inability for him to breathe at all through his nose anymore, the man himself just looked downright exhausted with it. He'd eventually managed to fall asleep with his hot, clammy forehead pressed into the back of Gale’s neck, plastered to his back, and Gale hadn’t the heart to try and move him despite how he had then been overheating.

"You know there's another, arguably much more enjoyable way to do that..." John leered, even if half-heartedly, and if only to fill the silence as Gale's eyebrows pinched at whatever he saw on the little digital screen.

See, this is why they'd more or less permanently shacked up at Buck's place rather than his. He had stuff like thermometers lying around. Stuff an actual home has.

Gale looked up at him then, incredulous. "You're really trying to flirt with me, sitting there with a 101 degree fever?" he said, turning the thermometer as if to prove his point. Incredulous, but not surprised; not really.

"Baby, if I'm ever sick enough that I don't want to flirt with you, make you blush all pretty like you do, that's when you should be worried."

Gale had almost been tempted to smile at that, until John had to cut himself off, a sudden bout of congested coughing rattling from his throat.

Capturing the inner corner of his bottom lip between his teeth, Gale sighed, his long legs unfolding from beneath him and as he got up from where he'd been perching on his side of the bed. He crossed to John's bedside, pulling the covers further up around the other man’s chest.

Gale clicked his tongue slightly, though his expression and voice betrayed him in their co-ordinating softness. "All of this because you just had to be the hero and go jump in the damn lake."

Off to the side of them, Maverick jumped up onto the bed, sleepily curling in at Bucky's side in the warm spot Gale had just vacated. She bumped her head against John's hand, eager and impatient as the day Gale met her. John responded without even having to look away from the conversation, his fingers scritching at the especially soft little spot of fur behind each of her ears.

“Hey, I saved someone's life."

Gale wordlessly took his phone from his pocket, showing him the text he'd already gotten from Benny, "Just FYI - let the record show that the guy knew how to swim and your boy did not have to jump in after him."

Uh, since when did his team all acquire his boyfriend's number just for the purposes of ratting him out?

"Well how was I supposed to know that?! It’s called due diligence."

Either way, he'd ended up with what seemed to either be a wicked cold or the beginnings of the flu for his trouble.

"You make up for your lack of sympathy with your excellent bedside manner, Doctor" John said, talking half to himself as Gale strode out to the kitchen at the sound of the kettle whistling.

He continued as the other man reappeared a minute later, a steaming Fire Department-branded mug in one hand, his own filled travel mug in the other. "Huh, that's kind of funny, seeing as you will be and everything. Dr Cleven."

“Not that kind of doctor,” Gale muttered, and John breathed out a faint laugh. He knew the difference, duh, but it was cute when Gale interpreted things so literally sometimes before he could think about it.

Gale quirked a brow as he set the mug down on John’s bedside table, batting aside lozenge wrappers and tissues with the rim of it to make room.

"Y'know what has an even better ring to it, though? Dr Gale Egan..."

When the idea of marriage came up between them, it was always in an abstract, vague kind of sense, underpinned by off-hand comments and passing jokes relaying the image of some version of their life that lay a safe distance away on the horizon. It wasn't right in front of them yet, but it felt comfortably inevitable, which made talking about it casually not really a big deal. One of the more common jokes being what they do in terms of surnames.

Gale could tell John was sentimental about his father's name in a way he himself wasn't about his own. It was never said so outright, but he got the sense that it was either a matter of hyphenating (even with John's arguments that neither Cleven-Egan or Egan-Cleven 'sounded right'), or Gale taking John's.

When Gale thought about the idea of shedding his father's name, he felt so much nothing it almost pissed him off because shouldn't it evoke something? Is that not the most normal reaction to losing such a defining part of your identity, feeling some sense of sadness? Of loss? It felt more to him like shrugging off a grimy, weather-beaten old coat turned threadbare in the elements, not particularly pleasant but reliably familiar. It was simply what he had.

Looking now, he took in the pallid, rheumy face and contrastingly long, firm lines of a man who loved him like John loved him. Who loved him so unshakeably, proved to him over and over seemingly without even really having to try; who made it look easy. Who loved him in a way he didn't think he ever could be loved, or be prompted himself to love like he loved John back.

"Well, then I guess you have until I finish my PhD to marry me."

There was a weird beat of silence and neither seem to be sure whether they were still joking or not.

“You saying you want to marry me? Is that a proposal? A deathbed proposal?” The look that bloomed on John’s face was as adorable as it was utterly insufferable. It was, however, quickly dispelled however by a sudden sneeze. He reached for more tissues, the groan that followed evidently vexed.

It cut through whatever tension had inadvertently bled into the moment, though, and Gale smiled. “Bless you. Tempting proposition that it is…” Gale finally said, as he checked his watch. When he continued, there was an edge of regret in his voice. “If I want to be Dr Anything I’d better get going.”

A noise echoed from John's throat, half displeased, half mournful.

Gale sighed and leant forward, bringing a gentle hand to John's fever-flushed cheek, his thumb stroking lightly on the sharp angle of his cheekbone. "Now, you get some sleep and drink plenty of water, you hear me? You can have more of these here pills in like a couple more hours. I should be home around 3ish, but text me if you need anything or your temperature gets any higher."

His voice was as even and steady as ever, only John tell he was fretting slightly by how unsettled his hands were, and how they kept touching him, fiddling with the blankets, smoothing things down that were already smoothed down as he spoke.

John reached out and grab Gale's wrist, stilled it, in a odd reversal of their usual roles. "Okay, okay..." he acquiesced lightly, easily, and was immediately rewarded when Gale's fingers laced into the sweat-damp curls that had fallen down into his face, moving them aside so he could press a kiss to his forehead. His lips lingered for an achingly welcome half-beat, before moving to press another to his cheek.

Gale tore himself away then, grabbing his wallet, keys, and the steaming travel mug where he'd abandoned them on the dresser, and tossed his bag over his shoulder. A few second later, he was gone.

“Dr Gale Egan” is all John thinks about for the rest of the day.

In between naps, that is.

[stiltonbasket]

prompt: an au where wrh raises wwx, who is then forced to fight for the wens during the sunshot campaign.

“You are useless to me now,” Wen Ruohan says, contemplating his drink. “One little archer, one lucky shot—and my greatest hope after Wen Zhuliu has been ruined.”

The cup in his hand should have held wine: some of the clear, astringent liquor that Wen Qing favored, since it was a passable antiseptic in an emergency—but somehow, it had darkened to a deep, almost oily crimson, like the broth of the stewed lamb Wei Wuxian ate on the night before he rode out to Hejian.

He does not like to think of what his liege must be drinking now, and so he does not ask.

“Not useless,” Wei Wuxian says at last. “Wen Qing claims that a full bodily recovery—if it should take place at all—will come too late for this war effort, but I am still sound in mind. And that is at your service still, as much as it ever was.”

“That is some relief. I could have done without your mind, if I had your jindan and your strength; but since I am not to have either, your mind will have to do.”

Wei Wuxian nods, scarcely concealing the tremor in his fingers as he does so. When he arrived half a shichen ago, he was granted a chair instead of a patch of floor to kneel on, out of respect for his battle wound; but drawing breath in Wen Ruohan’s presence has never been easy, in spite of the fact that the man would likely rather cut off his own right hand than harm him, and the Lan-made poison eating away at Wei Wuxian’s veins has only made matters worse.

“Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian blinks. “My lord.”

“That concubine of yours, the one that serves you on the battlefield—what is his name?”

His heart stutters in his chest. “Yu Zhenhong, junshang. I have only two, and Yu-shi is the only man.”

“He should have thrown himself before that arrow, rather than suffer any risk to you,” Wen Ruohan snarls, dashing the white-jade cup upon the tiled ground at his feet. “He is a man, and all he can do for the continuation of your line is to ensure the continuation of your life—and if the arrow struck true, and you had been slain, who would have taught your yiniang’s child in your place?”

Painfully, Wei Wuxian lifts himself out of his chair and sinks to his knees on the floor.

“It was I who rode ahead of Yu-shi that day. The rest of the regiment would have come to harm, if he had followed me,” he says, bent so low that he can feel the coolness of the tiles on his forehead. “On his behalf—and on behalf of my yiniang, for Lady Li is close to her time, and any harm done to one of our household could injure her, or my child—I beg that you show him mercy.”

A sharp pain sparks under one of his fingers. He lifts it from the ground, and notes with dull surprise that his skin had been pierced by a shard of Wen Ruohan’s jade cup. 

Wen Ruohan pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Very well, then. I will not give him any corporal punishment, for the sake of your yiniang’s peace of mind. But he must be punished somehow, and you are far too soft-hearted to do it properly.”

“My lord—”

“He is your favorite, is he not?” Wen Ruohan says idly. “You care for Li Shuai, and surround her with all the luxuries a man of your rank can afford. But Yu Zhenhong is the one who follows you to battle, the one you take into your confidence; so must he not be the one closest to your heart?”

“Yes.” The word feels like whetted steel on his tongue.

“Good,” his liege says, smiling. “Yu-shi has forgotten where he stands; and so, he must be reminded. He is not your husband—will never be your husband, for in all these years I have found no man or maiden worthy of being joined with you in marriage—but I think it would break his heart if I were to gift you another concubine. He tolerates Li-yiniang, because she can give you children, but if you were to take in another man...”

Wei Wuxian thinks wretchedly of the night Li Shuai and Yu Zhenhong came to his manor in the Nightless City, having run so long that Yu Zhenhong’s feet were bleeding, and begged for shelter: any way you can grant it, Yu Zhenhong had said, swaying on his injured feet as he supported Li Shuai. Any way, Wei-jiangjun—Brother Wei—A-Shuai can travel no further, I beg of you—

“May Wen-zongzhu’s will be done. I accept,” Wei Wuxian murmurs aloud, lifting his head to look Wen Ruohan in the eye. “Who is it to be?”

Wen Ruohan waves a dismissive hand.

“I’ll introduce you to him tomorrow,” he says, with a grin that makes his too-long front teeth shimmer in the yellow lamplight. “But you need not fear for your own sake, Wei-jiangjun. After all, your Yu-shi could not rival this one for beauty if he tried for the rest of his life.”

_____

“A concubine? For Wei-jiangjun? Has Father lost his mind?”

Two figures in red were standing in the dungeons of the Sun Palace, by the very last cell in the deepest of the six underground keeps. Its lone inhabitant had been languishing there for a month, not permitted to set foot outside his prison save when he was dragged to the torture chambers; and even when the tendons in his legs were slashed, some twelve days earlier, he remained so impassive that the head torturer began to wonder if he could feel the pain at all.

Wen Xu lifts his torch and examines the prisoner. 

“I suppose he’s good-looking enough,” he shrugs, suppressing a shiver as the torchlight moves over Lan Wangji’s unblinking eyes. “His nephew was the archer who brought General Wei down at Hejian, so Fuqin must think that marrying Lan Wangji to Wei-jiangjun is a fitting punishment—for the uncle and nephew both.”

In the shadows of the cell, Lan Wangji’s bloodied hands curl over a splinter of stone he had torn away from the walls. 

He has been shaping it for the last fortnight, filing it against the reinforced rock of the floor until the top end had been ground to a razor-sharp point. Before his legs were broken, he intended to use it to pick the lock of his cell door and escape, but now...

“Tian ah,” Wen Chao whispers, apparently under the impression that Lan Wangji was in a meditative trance, and thus unable to hear him. “I don’t fancy Lan Wangji’s chances in the Wei-fu. Wei-jiangjun was furious when Wen Qing found out about the poison in his jindan.”

But now his escape had been planned for him. 

Lan Wangji’s grasp on the splinter grows tighter. 

“When will it be?” asks Wen Chao.

“Three days from now.”

Three days. 

Lan Wangji looks up at the ceiling of his cell, and then down at the sharp piece of rock in his palm. 

He has crossed paths with General Wei only twice: once in the Cloud Recesses twenty years previously, when the young Wei-jiangjun attended Lan Qiren’s summer lecture courses, and then again on the battleground in Hejian where he was taken prisoner thirty days ago. 

Until that fateful battle, he could not have picked General Wei out of a crowd if his life depended on it: but that night, Lan Wangji dreams of a hauntingly lovely face lost in sleep mere inches away from his own, and the trembling of his hands as his makeshift knife plunges into his bridegroom’s throat.

[azu1as]

Hi, Tin! I love your writing and I have a prompt for you, if you are interested) what if Tang family is too afraid of Tang Bo leaving permanently and eloping with Cheong Myeong? So they initiate marriage negotiations with Mount Hua. It can be angst (CM is socially isolated and insecure about his position) or romantic comedy (awkward situations and protective Cheong Mun), up to you). Thank you in advance!

It was a well-established fact that the Dark Saint of the Tang Family was one of their generation's best.

So it came as no surprise when an influx of marriage proposals flooded their family's estate—because rumors started flying around that the Dark Saint was in search of a partner.

The Dark Saint held a reputation for being cold and ruthless. To cultivators and martial artists, he was someone they feared making into an enemy due to his sheer battle prowess and poisonous abilities. To normal civilians, he was a genius who wielded the Tang Family's techniques with cool precision and intent; to them, he was just another mysterious cultivator that they would only ever know of through gossip and stories.

However, in recent years, something shifted. His reputation among common folk was slowly altered. It started off with a supposed battle between him and the Plum Blossom Sword Saint which turned into a sudden and unexpected friendship.

Whereas in the past the Dark Saint would only go around Sichuan and closeby villages, he was now found going around different major cities and unknown ones.

He was often in the company of Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Sword Saint, who worked with him side-by-side to eradicate groups from the Demonic Cult and the occasional bandits and thieves.

For supposed Taoists, the two visited different establishments to drink alcohol and talk cheerily. It was during one of these moments that the first rumor began its spark.

"Ahhhh," The Plum Blossom Sword Saint groans in satisfaction. "That sure hits the spot!"

The Dark Saint chuckles as he tosses back his own drink. "If only I could enjoy everyday like this. Alcohol really is the best."

"What would your future wife think?" The Plum Blossom Sword Saint jokingly and dramatically shakes his head in disappointment. "To have a husband who loves alcohol more than his own wife...!"

The Dark Saint wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Trust me, I would make sure that my wife knows full-well just how much I love them."

The two of them share a silent, private conversation with just their eyes alone, that none of the other restaurant's customers could decipher, before they leave a generous tip and went on their way.

It snowballs from there.

All of a sudden gossip went around about the Dark Saint's interest in finding a wife. And so several people came to the same conclusion.

The reason why the Dark Saint is travelling around more than usual is because he's looking for a prospective wife.

Clearly, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint was there to provide moral support. How truly admirable and strong their brotherhood must be!

On the other hand, the head of the Tang Family was fully aware of their Dark Saint's single-minded interest in Mount Hua's Chung Myung.

Seeing all the stacks of letters that ranged from proposing strategic alliances and general marriage offers brought the current head of the Tang Family to a very different conclusion.

Tang Bo was trying to slowly draw himself away from their family by leaving their estate. He might be on the hunt, jumping from village to village, trying to create a dowry befitting for the hand of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint and scouting out all the best locations to settle down in.

It really wouldn't be too surprising of an idea if one day a letter turns up from the man with an intent of permanently moving to Mount Hua or some backwater village.

The Tang Family head shakes the thought of losing one of their best and genius members to one of the Ten Great Sects. If he wanted to maintain their family's reputation, he'll need to strike the first move.

And so he begins to pen a decisive letter to the Sect Leader of Mount Hua.

%%%

Chung Mun's hands tremble as reads the letter sent to him by the Tang Family.

'Who did they think they were?' He would have bit out if he had any less self-restraint. The paper crumples in his grip and he receives a questioning glance from Chung Myung who was sprawled eating mooncakes on the opposite side of his desk.

"What's got you so worked up?" The subject of the letter askswithout a care.

Chung Mun takes a deep breath. "The Tang Family wishes for you to transfer into their estate."

He refuses to say out loud the marriage proposal that came along with this request. His Chung Myung was too young! The man might be a sixty years old, but that round face, cheeks carelessly bulging with mooncakes with crumbs littered on his chin, screamed too young for marriage!

"Oh." Chung Myung nods in understanding.

Chung Mun is glad that Chung Myung agrees that this was nonsensical. To think, they thought that Chung Myung would even leave Mount Hua for—

"After the war is over, Tang Bo and I were planning to be roommates and travel the world a bit."

—?????

"Roommates?" Chung Mun's voices comes out slightly strangled.

"Yup. It's going to be great."

"No."

"'No'?"

Chung Mun tries to run through his previous conversations with Tang Bo. He knew that the man was capable of being underhanded, but he was also well-aware that Tang Bo respected him enough to not blind-side him with something like this. Especially since it concerned Chung Myung.

...

...Oh no.

"Fuck." Chung Mun says, full of feeling as he recalls Tang Bo off-handedly asking permission to live together with Chung Myung in the future.

"...Sect Leader?"

Chung Mun had thought that was a joke! He thought Tang Bo wasn't being serious! They were talking with alcohol in their systems!

The alarmed look that crosses Chung Myung's face informed Chung Mun that the way he felt his blood drain from his face was a visible, physical reaction.

"He asked for your hand in marriage." Chung Mun says faintly. "I said yes."

Chung Myung blinked at him. "Yeah? He told me?"

Okay. Tang Bo, to his credit, hasn't been leaving Chung Myung in the dark at least.

If Chung Myung knows and isn't reacting violently that means that he isn't completely against this. Even if Chung Mun was, he had to reorganize his priorties.

And his number one would be to make sure Chung Myung was happy.

((And to make sure that the Tang Family doesn't think they can step on Chung Mun and pull his little brother away.))

"I'll have to recheck the sect's budget and my own savings to make sure we have enough for the wedding preparations..." Chung Mun mutters as he begins drafting a response to the Tang Family with what he thought were better marriage agreement conditions.

But then, a flash of dread causes Chung Mun to pause writing and leave a dark ink blot on the paper. He suspected, but he really wishes that he was wrong—!

"Huh?" Chung Myung gives Chung Mun a confused look. "We already got married though?"

[youneedsomeprompts]

~ JUST MARRIED ~ WEDDING PROMPTS

requested by: anonymous

Feel free to use and reblog!

deep and meaningful looks

"I do!"

welcoming the guests

a small private wedding

a big wedding that deserves the term 'wedding of the century'

meeting people they haven't seen in ages

walking down the aisle

personal vows

exchanging the rings

smiling into the kiss after the other says 'I do'

throwing the bouquet

having an oddly specific wedding theme

first dance to 'their' song

slow-waltzing

everyone tearing up at some point

"Where are they? The ceremony is about to start!"

excited giggling

secret wedding

being surprised by bad weather just before the ceremony

last-minute arguments

neverending gratulations

"It's so different than I imagined."

guests bringing unexpected wedding dates

a very unusual 'flower girl'

a drunken speech by the 'maid of honour'/'best man'

a giant wedding cake

endless bottles of sparkling champagne

"You're quite the lucky groom/bride."

just wishing for a moment of privacy

"You're all I could ever ask for."

being nervous until they see their s/o walking down the aisle

look of love

spinning the other around because they're so excited

holding hands

"I've waited so long for this moment."

"I can't tell you how happy I am."

having one arm around their s/o all the time

whispering naughty comments into their s/o's ear

looking forward to taking off their uncomfortable clothes

a very odd wedding night

[twirinn]

chiluc wedding commission for @/oneinpage (twitter) please read his filo aus theyre all a great read if you like reading about mutual pining, relationship problems, conflicts, and resolutions

chiluc au that this art was referenced from

[doughnutshi]

[Day 6: Rivalry and Growth]

When the enemies finally become lovers 🥺 will she say yes? 🩵💚 @taimizuweek

(Redraw of a manga panel tbh I haven’t read the manga yet so idk anything about it 😭)

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 66

Hear me out, a batman story right? But it’s from Martha Wayne’s, Thomas Wayne’s and Alfred’s point of view and the types of adventures they got up to that made it where Alfred didn’t even bat an eye at Bruce’s. 

How did Alfred get Bruce even though logically the butler wouldn’t have in any other situation. Well did they ever tell someone about the fact they all got married on a dare that one time? Or that other time they got stuck in a lab during a tour and had to fight off this mold monster? Or that time Martha won a poker game against a god? Honestly the time Thomas sewed up a mob boss on the kitchen table was so tame and honestly are they supposed to just leave their precious baby? No, they can’t do that, they’re taking the toddler with them of course! 

[corvase]

medic x always getting sick married couple au

feel free to use btw love u guys if ur reading this i’m so grateful for the support (i’m putting this here bc no one reads my regular posts) anyways i’m so grateful take care and plz enjoy my prompts :)

one character calling the other like “… babe.” and they’re like “if you’re sick….. i swear—“

character a doing their best to hide their coughs and sneezes/make them as quiet as possible but character b takes one look at them and says “you’re sick😐.”

“taking care of you is a full time job for me.” “…… i love u.” “love you, too.”

OKOK LISTEN… the medic is the one who doesn’t really show emotion and the sick one is a bubbly one who never shuts up but the medic doesn’t play when it comes to them

^ “where were you???? i’ve been looking for you everywhere!” and the other one is like covered in sticks and mud just like “hehe i fell down a hill” and the medic is plotting how to murder a hill

“i’m glad i married a medic.”

“i cant believe you pretended to be sick so i would come home early.”

then a response of “i can’t believe it worked.”

the medic is at work and their colleague just gives them this look and they just KNOW their spouse is in the lobby with a broken arm or something

the medic character bundling the other up with a million layers before they even step foot outside

and the other one is just like “babe it’s 24 degrees”

someone telling them “you need to go to the hospital” and they’re like “no, i need to see my spouse”

character b walks in, takes one look at the uneaten medicine and turns off the tv. character a is like “do you MIND??” and b is like “do YOU mind taking medicine?”

“i think i have a fever.” and a sigh like “i’ll get the meds.”

“i’m glad you’re a super handsome pretty beautiful amazing doctor. what would i do when i get sick if i didn’t have you?” “you’d be rubbing ointment on your forehead thinking it would lower your fever, probably.” “…. low but true.”

[codename-adler]

why is Jean so

and Kevin so

[merlinpotterandtherandom]

Harry and Draco have a really low profile relationship, so when they decide to get married, only their friends and family know about it.

They don't really wear their wedding rings while they're at work. 'cause honestly with Draco being a Potion Master and Harry being an Unspeakable it's better that way.

Harry and Draco also barely go out on dates, they usually prefer having a chill date at home. So the first time they went out after they got married, the media immediately saw the wedding rings on and went insane. The media started bombarding Harry and Draco and their friends and family with questions on when they got married, how was it, if they went on a honeymoon, if they can send pictures of the wedding so the media can post it.

Harry and Draco decide they'll do what they always do when something like that comes up: Write an article for The Quibbler. Luna assumed her father's place as the editor, so they always use it when they need to adress the public 'cause they don't trust anyone else in the media.

The rest of the media is not happy that they chose to publish it on The Quibbler, but hey, it's something, so they write their own articles based on the article that's in The Quibbler. Harry and Draco don't give a fuck about it and keep ignoring every reporter that tries to get an answer directly from them.