#victors writing

[sad-boys-anonymous]

Broken Façade

Crossposted to ao3

Genre: sickfic

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Description: Malleus requires some TLC. Lilia is left a bit introspective. 

Warnings: mentions of vomit and vomiting

----

Evenings at the Diasomnia dorms were always quite peaceful, which Lilia appreciated after a long day. Retiring to his room to read a book or strum on his guitar for a bit before bed was a valuable part of his day. The hallways were free of idle chatter or wandering students, forming the perfect environment to clear his mind and relax. 

Tonight, the dorm was especially empty, as most of the first years (and some of the second years, too) had made the trek to Ramshackle dorm, where its prefect was holding a party. Malleus had been among the first of the student body to receive an invitation, and Lilia made the decision to let him enjoy the party on his own (albeit sandwiched between Silver and Sebek). The Ramshackle prefect had a knack for drawing Malleus out of his shell, as they always made an effort to include Malleus in their teenage hijinks. 

Wetting the tip of his finger, Lilia flipped to the next page of his book- a hefty cookbook featuring recipes from all across Twisted Wonderland. He was always excited to try new things in the kitchen for mealtime, and tonight he had his eye on a particularly intriguing beef dish. He kept a pens and a set of sticky notes at his side for annotating the recipe- he found the concept of adding a raw egg to a serving of raw beef intriguing, and couldn’t help but wonder how it would combine with other techniques he had seen abroad. 

The sound of footsteps in the hall made Lilia pause. Malleus? 

The mortal ear would have likely heard nothing at all, but Lilia could hear a pin drop on the other side of the dormitory. Malleus’s steps were light and careful, like the trot of a deer or the stride of a cat.

Lilia cast a sideways glance at the clock on his nightstand. The night was still young, at least to rowdy teenagers. He felt a twinge of concern when he realized Malleus’s footsteps weren’t accompanied by the sounds of Silver and Sebek, as Lilia would have definitely heard them coming. 

“Did you have fun?” Lilia asked the lanky figure hovering by threshold of the door. 

Malleus didn’t respond. Instead, he entered the room, his gait noticeably stilted as he approached Lilia, the shadow cast by his bangs obscuring his face. The bed creaked as Malleus wordlessly settled next to Lilia, squeezing against the curve of his body and resting his head against his chest. 

Well that was a surprise. It had been decades since Malleus wanted to cuddle, ever since he had gotten it into his head that he was too ‘mature’ and ‘cool’ to crawl into bed with the fae that had raised him. Lilia had probably gotten more cuddle-time out of him when he was an egg. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’?” Lilia said cautiously, watching Malleus’s stony face for any hints. The boy was difficult to read, but his frown carried a slightly different air from his usual scowl, an indication that something was wrong. 

For a moment, a paternal flame was stoked in Lilia’s chest, a retired soldier preparing to rise. He had enjoyed his time at Night Raven College, of course, but if a few buildings needed to be flattened to defend the sanctity of his boy, well…

“…It was fun,” Malleus’s voice, muffled into the breast of Lilia’s pajamas, interrupting Lilia’s thoughts, “I just…” 

A low, sickly gurgle finished his sentence, emanating from the boy’s stomach. A blotch of pink painted over Malleus’s unusually sallow skin as he wrapped his arms over his torso, a twinge of pain causing his face to contort. 

“Ah, I think I see the problem,” Lilia said, a twinkle lighting up his mischievous ruby eyes, “All that party food not settling in your stomach too well, huh?” 

Malleus muttered something Lilia didn’t quite catch under his breath, avoiding his gaze. His blush traveled to the tips of his pointed ears, and he would have been cute if Lilia didn’t feel bad for him. Malleus was never one to easily admit defeat, Lilia could only imagine how miserable he had to feel to leave the party and retreat to his guardian’s bed. 

Prying away one of Malleus’s pale arms, Lilia eased his fingers over his belly. He could feel the turmoil inside, plain as day, under his touch. In general, fae had hearty constitutions, but given Malleus’s…sheltered upbringing, he hadn’t quite developed the tolerance for the sugary and greasy delicacies his peers indulged in.

Lilia brought his other hand atop Malleus’s head, falling between his horns and brushing through the locks of dark hair. The sight of Malleus’s face tucked into the crook of his arm brought a thin smile to his lips. As much as Malleus complained of being babied by Lilia, he still knew exactly how to position himself to comfortably cuddle Lilia without prodding him with the twisted horns that grew from his head. 

Lilia’s mind brought him back to the past, where the much smaller prince of Briar Valley could tuck himself in a ball and fit neatly against Lilia’s torso. The process of growing horns was strenuous on the child’s body, and Malleus was often left with a low grade fever and pain radiating from the nubs that protruded from his forehead. 

A sickly Malleus had always been a sorry sight. The dignity and grace he typically carried himself was lost, with a glimmer of the child he pretended not to be showing through. Lilia was likely the only person in Twisted Wonderland to be privy to this elusive side of Malleus Draconia, to hear his low whimpering from a surprisingly low pain tolerance and a desire to be comforted. 

“And of Silver and Sebek?” Lilia murmured, continuing to rub Malleus’s bloated stomach in slow circles. 

“I asked the Leech brothers to distract them while I slipped away.” 

In his minds eye, Lilia could see the two boys already searching every inch of Ramshackle Dorm. Being tasked to such a charge as Malleus certainly wasn’t easy, Lilia could speak from experience. He hoped their fruitless search would lead them back to Diasomnia sooner than later. 

“Yuu’s taste in food is very…unique,” Malleus said, keeping his face buried in Lilia’s side. Lilia could easily imagine Malleus’s expression, how his lips pursed just slightly into a frown, but his eyes remained wide and innocent. “I wanted to try the things they liked. They seemed…excited.” 

Ah, that made more sense. Malleus had always been one to firmly assert his boundaries, but the Ramshackle prefect seemingly had the ability to make Malleus toss out any shred of common sense he had. Lilia could easily see how the situation unfolded- Malleus, flattered that Yuu had personally invited him to a party and unwilling to refuse any requests, and Yuu, with their charming lack of self awareness and eagerness to include Malleus in the fun, were quite the combination. 

Malleus’s stomach churned dangerously under Lilia’s hand, making an audible gurgle that made Lilia grimace in sympathy. Malleus was deathly still, the only movement he allowed himself being the white-knuckled grip on Lilia’s shirt. 

“How about I get you some water? That should help you feel better. You probably haven’t drank much water tonight, have you?” 

A tense hum of agreement. Lilia didn’t find the response promising. He’s already nauseous enough that he’s completely clammed up, he thought, frowning. 

Lilia started the tedious process of detaching the boy from his torso, careful to jostle him as little as possible. He pried Malleus’s clawed fingers off his shirt with the grace and concentration of a lockpick, letting his hands rest at his side. Malleus let out a groan when Lilia guided his head the short distance from being propped against his chest to lying on the bed, his eyes clenched shut under the pressure of nausea. 

Malleus lay on the bed, stiff as a board, legs slightly bent at the knee, as if he was unable to fully commit to tucking them against his belly. Lilia cast one extra look at Malleus over his shoulder before he slipped out of the room, more to ease his own mind than anything. 

Cold water splashed into a glass clutched in Lilia’s hand, courtesy of the sink located in the common area. Although most students preferred to get their meals from the cafeteria, each dorm was still equipped with a bare bones kitchenette for general use. Lilia had gotten the most mileage out of the microwave, which he had learned made popcorn far better than any magic he could blast at the bag. 

“It should be somewhere around here…” Lilia mumbled, shuffling around in the cabinet under the sink, “Ah, here we go.” 

He held up the real reason he had excused himself to the kitchen- a small plastic basin, probably intended to be used for cleaning purposes. It was a far cry from the extravagant vessels Lilia had guided a young Silver’s head into while they were at the castle, but it would do the trick. 

Tucking the basin under his arm, Lilia collected the glass from the counter, haste in his step as he made his way back to his bedroom. 

Just as he had expected, he found Malleus propping himself upright, a ghastly sheen of sweat over his face and a look of urgency in his eyes. Lilia approached him like a spooked animal, guiding a hand onto his back to keep him steady. He placed the plastic basin under Malleus’s head. 

“I don’t-” Malleus croaked through ragged breaths, “I don’t need that-” The smooth baritone of his voice gave way to cracks of desperation as he met eyes with Lilia, trembling. 

“It’s alright, just try to breathe through your nose. It’s going to be okay, Malleus,” Lilia said slowly, rubbing circles on his back.

This was the part Lilia had been worried about- Malleus was particular about being ill, to put it lightly. He had always shut himself away at even the slightest indication that a young Silver had an upset stomach (as human children were wont to do). While Lilia certainly didn’t find the experience pleasant, Malleus seemed to register it as a threat- and that wasn’t even scratching the surface of how Malleus acted when he was ill himself. 

It wasn’t common for fae to have the need to vomit, but it certainly wasn’t impossible. Lilia recalled an instance from Malleus’s youth, where the palace staff had prepared his meal with meat that had gone sour. Malleus was sick for days, spending the time he wasn’t curled in Lilia’s lap with his head in a bucket. 

The event clearly had some kind of lasting effect on the boy, even urging Lilia to personally take control of food preparation to ease Malleus’s worries. As he got older, Malleus kept that fear close to his chest, to the point where even Lilia had assumed he had grown out of it. But there were times his mask would slip, and Lilia could see his anxieties as plain as day.

Malleus’s brow was knit in desperate concentration, hanging on for dear life as nausea tossed him to and fro. Lilia watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as Malleus forced another heavy swallow. 

Wordlessly, Lilia offered him the glass of water. With a trembling hand, Malleus brought it to his lips, taking a small sip. He just as quickly reeled back, a gag ripping through his stiff shoulders. He hung his head over the basin, the water he hadn’t managed to swallow running out of the corners of his mouth. He hiccuped painfully, but nothing came up. 

“You’ll feel better once you throw up, Malleus,” Lilia said, trying not to wince at the boy’s clear misery. 

“Can’t-” Malleus brought a hand to his sweat-soaked forehead, clutching a handful of oily black hair. 

It broke Lilia’s heart to see him like this. His body was crying out for a relief that his mind couldn’t allow. Something needed to tip the scales. 

Lilia moved his hand back to Malleus’s swollen belly, massaging into the solid, angry mass that hung low in his gut. Malleus hiccuped again, this time a wet noise flailing in the back of his throat. 

“Stop it,” Malleus whined, “You’re gonna make me-” 

Malleus doubled over in a proper heave, the motion only bringing out a strangled cry. Lilia pushed a little harder on his stomach, keeping his lips pursed in a conflicted frown. He gagged again, the muscles in his stomach spasming under Lilia’s hand. 

Malleus’s eyes were wide with panic. “P-please, I don’t want to-” 

A wet belch was what opened the floodgates. A torrent of vomit slapped against the bottom of the plastic basin, each burst announced with a violent heave. Malleus grabbed at Lilia’s shirt for stability as another harsh wave washed over him, his sharp nails cutting through the thin fabric with ease. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Lilia murmured, rubbing Malleus’s back, “It’ll be over soon.” 

The Prince of Briar Valley was a pitiful sight, his eyeliner having smeared from the tears trailing down his cheeks. A string of bile hung from his chin as he weathered through another heave with a shudder and a whimper. Defeated, Malleus slumped forward, leaning his forehead against Lilia’s chest. 

“Are you done?” Lilia asked, his voice dipping into a gentle coo that a more lucid Malleus would detest. Instead, Malleus nodded, panting through an open mouth. 

With a flick of the wrist, Lilia sent the basin away with magic, guiding Malleus back into a recumbent position. Malleus was limp in Lilia’s arms, finally catching his breath as he stared up at the ceiling with glassy eyes. 

“You need to drink something,” Lilia said, propping Malleus’s head up with his arm. Lilia brought the water back to his lips, letting him take a few weak sips. 

Malleus settled back in the crook of his arm, eyelids fluttering as Lilia resumed stroking his hair. The scene struck a chord in Lilia’s heart- as much as he hated to see Malleus look so miserable, he couldn’t deny that he treasured these kinds of moments. Right now, Malleus wasn’t a prince, nor one of the most powerful mages in Twisted Wonderland with a grand reputation to keep up. 

No, right now, he was a child- Lilia’s child- that was sick with a tummy ache. He was tired and teary-eyed. 

Sometimes, Lilia wished this was the side of Malleus that his peers got to see. The raw, unfiltered person that carried the title of the Prince of Briar Valley. 

But the boy’s pride would never allow it. 

Lilia planted a soft kiss on Malleus’s forehead. This time, he leaned into the gesture, mumbling a contented hum. 

“How about you sleep in here with me for tonight?” 

[choccy-milky]

how seb and clora get together in my fic 💕bc what better time and place to confess and share your first kiss than around a bunch of inferi + the dead body of a man you just killed?? 🥰💖

[bebx]

Reed Richards and Victor von Doom ❦ Daylight, David Kushner

[bonesashesglass]

Palestine mention in Les Misérables, by Victor Hugo, 1887

Israel will never be able to erase Palestine. It’s woven into our history, our stories. They say you can’t kill a revolution, you can’t erase the truth of its existence either.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

love me a classic enemies to lovers prompt but instead of them going all lovey dovey for each other, the “lover” phrase isn’t explicitly stated in the sense that they didn’t kiss or confess, as far as they and everybody else knows, they are enemies. but the love, the possessiveness and the protectiveness are there in the sense that if one of them gets hurt, the other will stop at nothing until they find and rescue their own archenemy and nurse them back to health. and instead of pain and violence that used to be the only things they share with each other, this time it’s gentleness a character gives his own wounded enemy. because yes, that’s my enemy. mine. and he’s hurting. I must fix this. I must burn the world down and kill every single person who dares to touch my enemy. and then I must make sure he’s okay. because he’s my enemy and he’s hurting. I must take care of him. I must be gentle, even if gentleness comes as a struggle to me; for the only thing I know is violence. I must still be gentle with him because right now he’s wounded and scared. I must make sure he’s safe and okay. I must be gentle for him. I must.

— also check out this fic with this prompt here

[autumnalmess]

Hey man sorry I've not posted in a while, it's a funny story actually. I actually got arrested for stealing bread for my sister and her seven starving children. yeah, it was pretty bad. I tried to escape 3 times so yeah I got 19 years, yeah and then I broke my parole and now there's this slutty little man after me, yeah I think he has a crush on me or smt idk

[mobius-m-mobius]

#just a wizard gentleman and his butler 🪄🎩

[sygneth]

I have had a lot of thoughts on the original story after listening to the Sherlock&Co "Gloria Scott" and a new headcanon just dropped.

Chapter 1: part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6

Masterpost (Index)

AO3

thoughts, if you're curious:

As far as gay Victor Trevor absolutely got me, I don't think there was anything serious between him and Holmes. This all comes down to my reading of Holmes, who is (to me) too aroace-spec to get involved in a regular relationship (althouuuughh about Holmes, his sexual and romantic orientation and him discovering it I have had so many thoughts I could write a whole essay). He likes to have a default person though, someone who will take him as he is, and maybe even admire a little - now that's Watson, earlier it was Trevor.

And yea I think Victor got a crush straight away after their first meeting, maybe they even talked about this at some point. Maybe Holmes said that he won't be able to reciprocate this affection but if Victor is fine with keeping things as they are, then he is too. I like to think they stayed pen friends even after Trevor's leave.

I feel like I should emphasize this? My intention in the comic was to make Trevor visibly flustered because he didn't expect a young attractive boy (he's hopeless in my head), while Holmes simply didn't expect to see someone his age and so sincerely sorry.

[pigeons-with-jello]

robert smirke being just some fucking historical guy in england will never not be funny, like imagine being robert smirkes ghost and you hear that theres a piece of media talking about your achievements and such long after youve died. you reasonably get excited and alexander hamiltions like dude be careful. its never good when youre in media now adays. and you shrug it off because hamiltion was a great musical. and then you listen to the magnus archives. and holy shit. you wished it was hamiltion.

[moviestarmartini]

ella es mi fiesta — jude bellingham x hispanic!reader

es la favorita, la mujer más buena / la que más me gusta de todas las nenas / es la mamacita, se me agua la boca / que no más las miro y todo me provoca.

summary: jude has completed his move to madrid, and while you watch him shine, you've got a wedding to plan.

wc: 3.1k

warnings: wedding!! tried not to specify much so it adapts to everything (methinks), good mother/daughter relationship lol, short nsfw but still 18+, brief female masturbation, unprotected sex (not endorsing it!!!), lots and lots of sappy crying, smau at both the beginning and the end, sentences in spanish, a paragraph in spanish will be translated at the end hehe

previous part

A bigger, brighter spotlight started to shine on your fiancé. 

You knew Jude deserved that and more, and you were more than satisfied with his success. If college wasn’t occupying your nights, you saw him at the Bernabeu whenever you could, preferring to sit outside than inside the VIP boxes to feel la afición you grew up with. Feel that passion and support surrounding you, coursing through your veins. 

Nothing had really changed; you still supported him through thick and thin. You cried when he scored a brace against Barcelona, and held him close after the endless recovery hours when he was injured. The fact he was physically closer only improved your relationship further. 

You never knew how much you needed to have him close by. 

But being at Real Madrid had its disadvantages. You barely got to hang out around campus to avoid people asking too many questions, wanting to know more about your relationship with the golden boy. But most of this chatter wasn't even questions about you or him, they were directed towards your relationship. 

The same comments you’d read on Twitter and his Instagram Posts— not yours, considering you decided to keep your account private for the time being. Things ranging from your age, the time you’ve been dating before the proposal to downright wishing you wouldn’t even make it to the wedding and just cancel the engagement. 

You’d discussed these comments with Jude, and his reassurance was more than enough to keep you at peace about your relationship. But the criticism only made your body burn with the necessity to prove everyone wrong. So you kept your head down, concentrating on your studies and planning the wedding on the side. You had bimonthly reports to Jude about the progress of everything, though Denise had been a godsend this whole time. Any decision you needed an opinion on, she was there to provide the most helpful insight when Jude wasn’t able.  

As he settled into the team, the teammates he grew closer to got to meet you, all of them absolutely adoring you and the pair you made with the englishman. 

“When are we getting our wedding party ask? Cama here wants to be the flower man.” Tchouameni joked, elbowing his fellow french national on the ribs as the group exploded with laughter. 

During one of the international breaks Jude surprised you with his return by joining you during a cake tasting. He wasn’t fully recovered from the injury and was sent back, having taken a few hours off to be with his ‘best girl’— he said himself. 

“Shoo, or I’m going to report to the mister that you’re playing hooky.” You stuck your tongue out while dropping him off at Ciudad Real Madrid for his recovery training. The truth was, you had a dress fitting that afternoon. Your mom, Denise, your cousin and your best friend were in attendance. 

You’d find your dream dress at a boutique in the city center, the streets crowded enough for people to recognize you and snap a few blurry pictures entering the shop. None of those wearing the dress, thank goodness, but by the time you found out people started to realize you and Jude were actually getting married that year, you were too elated to care. The dress fit like a glove, and your mom couldn’t help but sob by seeing you in it. She bought it on the spot without much consideration, and considering you were the only girl in your nuclear home, your mother was going all out for her little girl’s wedding. 

As the temperatures dropped, the planning became more frantic. You had fifty calls to make every single day confirming everything, keeping Jude updated and checking one last time for the RSVPs. As November edged in, you only felt more and more nervous. 

“Are we too insane for this? We should’ve waited for two years from now maybe…” You wondered out loud to Jude as you finished the engagement photoshoot. Brunch was your thing, so it was a playful twist on the theme. 

“Look at me,” He incited, taking your face in his hand. His eyes were full of reassurance, and it always surprised you to see how he never doubted anything for a second. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me. If you want to delay it for fifteen years I’ll wait patiently.” The photographer was already packing up his things, but perked up when he noticed the intimate moment going on. He didn’t interrupt, just taking a few candids. 

His understanding just melted away any doubts instead of reinforcing them. You scooted closer in your chair. “I’m not moving anything. The wedding’s in a month, and I couldn’t be happier.” You cooed, your fiancé humming happily as he kissed your forehead. 

When you received the pictures you came to notice those candids turned out to be your favorites. Not that the others looked bad— on the contrary, you both looked stunning— but they transported you back into that moment full of reassurance and love. 

Before you knew it, the last game of the season transpired, along with your last class before exam season took place in January after your Winter vacations. 

After your wedding. 

For your bachelor and bachelorette parties respectively the two of you decided to celebrate during the day so that night the rehearsal dinner could take place at the same cozy chateau the wedding was taking place the next day. It was more of a mixer than anything else, considering Jude had guests come from all over to the event. All of them you knew, since you both agreed to keep it tight knit on both sides. There had also been a sworn secrecy, you’ve giggled for hours reading Twitter threads speculating when your wedding was taking place when it was literally happening right under their noses. 

It had been an hour or so since the last of the guests either drove home or crossed over to stay at the boutique hotel nearby. Both of your families were sleeping in the other rooms in the venue, but the matrimonial bedroom was left for your solitude. 

“Can’t sleep either, eh?” You turned to Jude’s husky voice from the bedroom door. You got up with a nod, watching as he closed the door behind you. “Anxious?” 

“Definitely.” You agreed, pulling him down and into a hug. “Young bride was not something I ever pictured in my resume but that was before I met you.” You muttered, cupping his face and kissing his forehead. 

Jude observed your movements slowly, feeling the cold white gold against his cheek. He turned his face and kissed your palm before taking it in his hand, kissing your fingers, never breaking eye contact. He inched in, nose brushing against you and you knew well enough his intentions. 

“In twenty-four hours we’ll consummate the marriage, Belli-bear; don’t.” You warned him with a playful smile, noticing how he leaned down and kissed your neck slowly. You couldn’t resist, tilting your head back. With all the planning involved, you barely got to see anything of each other, even less intimately. 

“I don’t care.” He grumbled, sliding his hands on your thighs as you stumbled over to the edge of the bed. He sat first, drawing you over to his lap. “I’ve barely seen you in the last two months.” Jude linked your lips together, and you melted right into his lap. It was slow, taking your time. He pulled down the straps of the soft cotton pajamas, letting the top roll down and pool at your waist. 

Your bare chest heaved against his clothed one, and he removed the shirt before his hands cupped your breasts. The tension building up in the room was something you’ve never experienced before; it was mind numbing, almost. 

“I love you.” You muttered something you’ve said so many times previously, but it felt like the first time. You noticed how he swallowed hard, his eyes looking up at you with utter admiration. Instead of replying right away, his hand sneaked under the matching shorts, past your underwear. Your breath hitched, his middle fingers drawing circles slowly. 

“Yo también te amo.” He replied, licking his lips. You slightly raised your brows in surprise; it was usually the other way around. You said it in Spanish and he replied in English. Now his tongue spoke your language with ease each day. Your mouth twitched lightly into a smile, interrupted by a moan as he gathered the slick pooling around his fingers. 

“Let me take you, please.” His begging was sincere, knowing you could easily decline and follow traditions. Not that you hadn’t done it before, but maybe right before your wedding was pushing it. “I’m too eager… I don’t think I can wait until tomorrow. 

You have been feeling his boner pressing against your thigh for a while now, yet again adding to his honesty. Your thoughts were racing a hundred miles per hour, but you concluded there was nothing traditional about this in the first place. The two of you were bending the rules over backwards from the day you met. A smile still rose to your lips, pulling him into a kiss and pushing him onto the bed. 

“Take me now. Tomorrow you’ll do it forever.” You brushed your nose against his, and he switched places to lay on top of you. Without wasting any time he pulled your pajama shorts and underwear down, his own following soon after. 

“Uh, fuck— I forgot,” He looked around the room, trying to figure out if you’d brought any condoms. You pulled his face towards yours, cupping his jaw in your fingers. 

“I’ll take a pill tomorrow.” You noticed how his eyes shone in a way you’d never noticed before, and he caught your lips in his once more, brushing his tip against your entrance. You mewled, feeling the stretch and embracing it warmly. Your fiancé held you against his chest, kissing the top of your head. 

“You feel so warm,” He practically whined, starting to draw out long thrusts. You could barely reply to the praise, trying to keep your moans muffled by hiding your face in his neck. “So perfect for me, my girl.” 

He knew those strained moans like the back of his hand, the kind where you seemed to be choking on air. The way your cunt squeezed him was enough indication. “Yes, baby. Do it, cum for me.” You exhaled in a way it was apparent the permission lifted a weight off your shoulders. He held you closer to his body, allowing your moans to leave your mouth more freely without escaping those four walls. 

The stutter of his hips that came soon after, followed by a string of curses gave away that Jude was close too. You kissed his strong shoulders, giving him words of encouragement as he perched your legs over his shoulders and started a painful pace to find his release. Still, he looked down at you with a fondness that made your heart melt, leaning down for a final kiss as he pulled out and shot ropes of white to cover your lower tummy. 

“How about a warm bath?” He proposed tenderly, and you couldn’t have said no, even if you wanted to. Without even noticing you fell asleep curled up in his chest, the light steam surrounding your bodies. 

You woke up the next day to the empty bed, haven’t felt so well rested in a while. There was some chatter going on downstairs, and you peaked from the bedroom window to notice staff being led by your mother and soon to be mother-in-law assembling the ceremony venue in the vast backyard. The reality soon dawned upon you, and you wanted to throw up from the nerves and scream in glee. 

But that was the last time you were left alone with your thoughts, as a soft knock rang through the room. “Coming! Denme dos minutos!” You sprung up from the bed, quickly fixing the bed and slipping into the silk slip dress you bought for the whole ‘getting ready’ part of it. The house had a great heating system from the dropping temperatures, but you still got a matching bolero in cashmere. Upon opening the door you were greeted by your small wedding party, consisting of your cousin and best friend. Your other female family members were getting ready with you with the same team of hair and makeup. 

The greeting hugs everyone gave you were so different. They were full of warmth, positivity. You had to hold back tears when your mom hugged you, easing up all your nerves. It was as if they were confirming to you that they were there for you, sending all the well wishes for the years to come with a simple embrace. 

You had your favorite breakfast with mimosas before getting ready. Music was blasting, everyone was chatting it up and helping each other. It felt as though you were getting ready for a regular party, until your brother came knocking at the door. “Delivery for the bride.” He smiled, and the room full of women squealed. You were done with your hair already but you were going to be the last to get your makeup done. 

With a smile you kissed your brother on the cheek before ushering him out the door, taking a hold of the large box and placing it on the bed. Upon removing the lid, you gasped at the delicately placed bouquet, the one you were going to be walking down the aisle with. 

“You like it? I helped him choose. He assembled it himself last night after everyone was gone.” Denise came up to you with a warm smile, and you couldn’t help but give her a tearful nod, setting the flowers aside to give her a tight hug. You figured this whole thing was a big change for her, considering how much of a mama’s boy Jude was. 

But that embrace felt just like the others; full of support and well wishes. 

In no time your makeup started and the women got dressed, only leaving your mum to help you with the dress and the veil. “Ay mi princesa.” She exhaled, fanning her eyes as you took a step back to look at yourself in front of the mirror. You took a deep breath in, having to hold back the need to start crying. Your dream wedding dress fit you as perfectly as it did on the first fitting, and the lacy veil was as perfect as it was on your mother all those years back. 

“I think we should head downstairs. Get some pictures of our family together. Jude should be waiting outside already, so there would be no peeking.” She laughed, carefully cleaning away the tears right at the edge of her eyes. 

The following reactions were similar. Your father looked as though he was about to pass out, and your brother was left speechless. But you only cared about one reaction, and you stood perfect for the family pictures as you could only imagine how Jude would react. 

Still the anticipation couldn’t have prepared you to see him shedding real tears as you walked down the garden, unable to stop looking at you. And for a second there, you swore it was just you and him in the entire planet. 

You couldn’t stop looking at each other throughout the whole thing, no matter if you were supposed to look at the officiant. You said your vows first, eyes brimming with tears. “Most importantly, I love how you make me think I’m the brightest star in the world, no matter how bad either of us are feeling. And I promise I’ll drive you everywhere for the rest of our lives, don’t get that license, amor.” You finished with a bitter sweet chuckle. But you couldn’t have expected what Jude had to say next. 

“Uh, I’ve been practicing my vows for the past six months. If there’s any mistakes, just… keep it to yourselves.” The audience chuckled lightly, but they were as intrigued as you were. He started out by saying your name, almost breathless, “Siempre te he dicho que eres la razón por la que creo en el amor a primera vista.” You choked out a sob, as people in the audience gasped. 

Jude had written and learned his vows in Spanish. Without telling a soul. 

He apparently grew more confident, sucking a big breath in. “Y hoy, puedo decir con toda certeza que creo en el amor sincero y eterno. Todo por ti, preciosa,” His bottom lip quivered, noticing how you were made a mess, eyes full of tears. 

“Eres la estrella que alumbra mis días. Mi chauffeur que me lleva a todos los lugares sin que se lo pida.” He cleared his throat, inhaling the tears in. “Gracias por confiar en mí y en nuestro amor para llegar aquí hoy. Te amo.” 

You smiled at him warmly, and knew he would tease you later for having matching vows without knowing. The rest of the ceremony flew by, and Jude really took the ‘you may kiss the bride’ part too seriously. 

“I can’t believe you copied me…” He huffed as you made way inside the mansion, waiting in a separate room for your entrance. “…Mrs. Bellingham.” He practically giggled, and you laughed from the mirror as you were retouching your makeup.

“You’re the one that copied me! I said my vows first, idiot!” You joked, finishing the lip combo before getting to his side, holding his hand to do your entrance to the dining hall. The nerves filled you up and he noticed from the way you shifted your weight from one side to another. 

He kissed your hand and winked, and you knew everything was going to be alright. 

You found out that night most of your guests were hefty drinkers, or at least they had decided to be so for that particular occasion. But you also found out later that night that thank God you ‘consummated your marriage’ the previous night, considering you had to ask for a few of his fellow athlete friends to carry him up to the newlywed couple’s bedroom. You later laid there staring at the ceiling, stomach churning from… anticipation? The drinks? 

But even as Jude was snoring right next to you, you knew deep down everything was going to be alright. 

For the rest of your lives together.

judebellingham mr. and mrs. b 🤍

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A/N: my bf still says we can't get married so enjoyyy this delusion i'm using to cope KFDSKLSDFKLV lowk did my dream wedding here but it wasn't at the same time. hope everyone enjoyed this sappy sappy short series !! the translation to jude’s wedding vows are in that lil note in the smau !!!

[sad-boys-anonymous]

Day 1: Drugging/Poisoned

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Character: Zhongli

“Some more tea, sir?” a waitress asked, holding out a jade-colored tea pot with a smile. 

“I believe I will have to refuse, young lady, but I appreciate the offer,” Zhongli responded, patting the cloth napkin in his lap, “It’s gotten quite late, and Miss Hu Tao will be expecting me early in the morning. I should be taking my leave.” 

“Surely you don’t mean that!” bemoaned the man across the table from him, Suyun, “It’s been years since I’ve been able to talk to someone with as much rich knowledge about the history of Liyue as yourself!” 

Zhongli had encountered Suyun on the outskirts of Qingce village, admiring a weathered marble statue of a turtle that stood vigil by the mouth of a creek. The two had struck up a conversation about the subject of the statue, a long dead adepti that had served as the protector of the village. Zhongli had been surprised that the man had any knowledge of Stone Weaver, as he thought the stories of his dear servant had been lost to the sands of time. He learned that Suyun was a newly hired professor at the Akademiya, with a specialty in ancient Liyuian history. They decided to move the conversation to a nearby teahouse, where the time seemed to fly by. 

It wasn’t often that Zhongli was able to speak at length with a mortal about such subjects and actually be understood, but Suyun was an immensely knowledgeable historian. The encounter had left him with a pleasant buzz, something he had been lacking since the loss of his gnosis. 

“Well, I…” Zhongli glanced over his shoulder, hoping to take a look outside. The curtains had been drawn, strangely. The other tables around them had emptied, and the staff were nowhere to be seen, except for the lone waitress that had been providing them refreshments. 

“You must stay, I insist!” Suyun urged. The tea in his cup stirred. Zhongli hadn’t noticed until now that Suyun hadn’t taken a sip since the evening began. “You were just about to tell me about the connection between the sedimentary deposits of Mingyun village and the religious practices of the area!” 

“Ah, yes, well I suppose we could talk a little longer about that…” his voice trailed off, his words becoming more difficult to string together. The dull aching in his stomach that had persisted through the evening seemed to spike, now a cramp that his hand involuntarily spring to cradle. He turned to the waitress nearby, taking a shaky breath, “Miss, if you would, I would like some water…” 

Suyun’s hands were folded on the table, unbothered by the man doubled over in front of him. “Is something the matter, Mr. Zhongli? You seem pale.” There was something sinister in his voice, that even Zhongli could hear through the buzzing in his ears. 

A cold realization flooded over him as all the pieces clicked into place. Zhongli gripped his face with a sweaty, trembling hand, his voice dipping into a low growl. 

“Suyun, what did you do to my drink?” 

Suyun smiled. “Oh, nothing too special, just a bit of silkroot to help you…relax.” 

Silkroot. A fairly bitter herb, that after being dried and processed into a fine powder, could be used as a potent sedative. It was traded commonly among the criminal underworld of Liyue, as an easy drug that was difficult to trace and simple to administer. Normally, Zhongli would scoff at the use of such substances, as his immortal body could weather far worse. 

However, Zhongli did not have an immortal body anymore. 

With the loss of his gnosis had also come the introduction of a frail human body. He could no longer eat whatever tasty food caught his eye, as his stomach was far too sensitive for that. He not only needed sleep, but he learned one could sleep “wrong,” which would leave his back aching long into the day. It was a humbling experience, living life as the people of Liyue Harbor had for generations. 

The room around him had become a fluid, pitching back and forth with every minute movement of Zhongli’s head. Zhongli grit his teeth, lunging to his feet. An invisible wave crashed into him, unceremoniously dragging him down onto his hands and knees. 

Suyun let out a dry laugh. “I never thought I would see the day that the mighty Morax was brought to his knees.”

Morax. His body flinched as if it had been electrocuted. The shock gave him the energy to lift his head, calling upon all of the residuals of his Archon power he could muster to shift his eyes into a more draconic appearance. It made Suyun hesitate, if only for a moment. 

His body, which had once been as sturdy and unmoving as stone, now felt like jelly. Zhongli’s cheek made contact with the cool tile floor before his brain was able to comprehend that it was even falling. A hand grabbed the back of his head, forcing his line of sight back on Suyun. The man seemed to swim in the murky haze that had seeped into Zhongli’s vision. 

Suyun’s words came from the other end of a long tunnel, muffled, but just loud enough for Zhongli to make out. 

“Osial sends his regards.” 

[sarahreadstoomanycomics]

Nightwing 103 variant cover by Travis Moore

[bebx]

had to make this. also we need more Victor von Doom and Reed Richards as meme formats.

[thoughtkick]

Laughter is sunshine, it chases winter from the human face.

Victor Hugo

[aevyndzn]

I miss them a lot, listening to “we’ll never change” and “shadow in the sun” reminds me of Victor and Eli every time. My Roman Empire I fear, I think about them too much.

[thou-babbling-brook]

Even little revolutionaries get sleepy 🌙💤