#he'd fit in just fine in the chao garden

[tues-dayy]

I can't stop thinking about Prodigy s2; it is everything to me

[ordin-arily]

Hello!! Saw that your requests were open so ima shoot my shot >;) || Requesting a gn reader x 2018!Donnie with an already established relationship! Reader is up on the rooftop of their apartment and it tending to the communities garden! While up there, reader is doing the "he love me, he loves me not" flower game out loud with Donnie in mind (of course hehe). Reader ends up landing on "he loves me not" dispite already being in a relationship and so they thow a playfull tantrum. Unbeknownst to reader, Donnie was looking for reader and found them up top and heard the whole thing 😌💖

here's your fic my love!! i went off the rails a little i think, but i hope you still love it!

warning: (light) fight/argument

words: 2900

The sky is cloudy when you climb up to the rooftop of your apartment complex. (There’s a storm brewing up in your mind too; how fitting that the weather should reflect it.) 

You do your best to come up here every other weekday, usually in the mornings before class or work, or around golden hour when you convince yourself you’re tending to the community garden but, really, you’re just here for the magnificence that is the sun’s descent behind the NYC skyline.

Today, though, you reckon there won’t be a sunset at all. It might even rain later tonight which is as good an explanation as any as to why you’re the only person up here—though it’s not like you ever run into too many of the building’s residents  with green thumbs in the first place. You can’t say you hold it against them. Life is busy and difficult and, sometimes, it's a demanding task to keep one plant alive, let alone a whole rooftop full. 

And, so, it’s just you and your elderly neighbour, Pete, who take it upon yourselves to spend your free time watering, fertilizing, and potting. 

It’s a meditative hobby, one that grounds you in the most literal of ways. (You don’t get much closer to earth than plants.) There’s just something about it that lets you process a day’s worth of chaos so that, in the end, it doesn’t seem so impossible to greet tomorrow. 

This morning, you were here with Pete, humming to yourself and making small talk with him. A brief mention of how you were looking forward to meeting up with your boyfriend later in the day had your neighbour smiling generously and asking about him a little. Not the “what does he do” or “do you go to the same school” sort of inquiries—which is what you so cherish about Pete. He doesn’t care much for banalities. 

Instead, he'd asked things like “what kind of person is he?” and “could he build me a better hearing aid, do you think?”

You gave him a light laugh and assured him that you would absolutely pass on the message. 

You’d spoken of Donnie so fondly then.

Unfortunately, with the way the day had unfolded, you’d forgotten to put in Pete’s request, and the sudden realization stomps you further into the basement of distress.

You inhale a sharp breath, one you hope will be steadying but really only rattles you further.

And then the memory comes. 

It unfolds slowly; feels less suffocating while your hands are busy like this. Your  heart doesn't pick up in your chest like it did earlier—doesn’t threaten to bruise your ribs blue and black as it hammers against them—and it’s easier to see where things went wrong now.

When you’d stepped foot in the lair after your morning class, as you so often did on this particular weekday, you found Donnie tucked away in a corner of his lab with twelve mechanical arms—and two flesh ones—all monkeying around some new mechanism.

“Hiii!” you’d singsonged, hankering to catch up with the best part of your day.

He’d barely turned, oh-so focused on his work. You knew how he got once he was in a groove and that was honestly fine with you. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Brought you some coffee,” you announced, putting down both styrofoam cups on a lab table, then dropping your jacket over one of the stools and your backpack on the floor. 

“Hey, thanks,” Donnie said into his new brain child, voice muffled by the metal panel his head was currently jammed up in.

You dug around for the laptop in your bag, more than happy to busy yourself with some assignments while you waited. “What are you working on?”

A clanging thud came from somewhere inside the panel, and you cringed at the noise. 

Donnie answered you all the same, even if it was through a series of grunts: “A new engine for the—mmph—T-tank. I’m hoping it’ll—ugh—run a little—unf—smoother.”

“Ooh,” you gushed supportively. “Very cool.”

“Do I detect a note of sarcasm?"

“I would never!” you gasped wryly. “No, but actually. You know I love your work. Don’t always understand it, but I love it.”

You diverted your attention to a few open documents on your desktop, but Donnie stuck his head out to peer at you. “How can you love something if you don’t understand it?” 

You lowered the screen a little. “Wh… Do I have to understand the sun to love the feeling of sunlight on my face?"

“Well… by definition, yes. At least in some capacity. You would need to know what the concept of warmth is to identify the feelings of affection associated with it. How do you know what you’re loving about it if you don’t even know what it is at a fundamental level?”

“I just… do? I don’t know, the feeling is just... there?” You shrugged easily enough, figuring he might just let this be, even if he wasn’t in total agreement with you.

Of course... you would have been wrong.

He stood up, making his way over to you cautiously. “I just don’t get how you can feel that without really understanding a given object, phenomenon, person, place, etcetera.”

“Well, can you ever really understand something? I mean, to its fullest extent? Isn’t that pretty impossible?” You took a small, light sip from your coffee. “Ultimately, we’re bound to our senses, right?"

“I concur, yes, but feelings as strong as… love... require at least an elementary comprehension of the object for which that emotion is held, even if the parameters we set for our understanding are completely arbitrary.”

You stopped, really mulling over his side of the argument.

Just as you were formulating a response though—one that was largely in accordance with his point, mind you—he piped up again.

“Does this mean you don’t understand my inventions? Because, you know, I always do my best to explain them in layman’s terms. And, by extension, I have to wonder if that means you don’t actually understand... me."

Your cup hit the table with a little more force than you'd intended. “How did we get here? All I’m trying to say is I love your work, even if I don’t always totally grasp the intricacies of how they function.”

“But I always explain the intricacies. I feel like I’m finding out you never actually listen.”

His eyes kept going back and forth between you and the table, so very fraught.

You shook your head. “It’s not like that. I just… I’m not always able to follow everything going on, even in 'layman’s terms.’” 

The emphasis on those words were laced with a slightly mocking edge—again, not intended. It was just that… Donnie could come off so condescending sometimes. 

“Well, why don’t you ask me to clarify? It doesn’t bother me, you know?”

You let out an odd little puff of air. 

“What—you think it does?"

“Don, I know it does. How many times do you huff and puff explaining things to your brothers?”

“Okay, but you’re not them!” he cried out.

That gave you pause.

Donnie sank in on himself a little, looking rather… despondent all of a sudden. “I tried explaining my tech to them. Our whole lives growing up. And they’d either cut me off or fall asleep or—or call me a nerd! You were the only one who ever—!” he broke off with an angry sigh then fell quiet. "Who ever listened…"

“Donnie—“

“No!” he shouted again. “No, no! I thought you understood, Y/N. I thought you got it! I thought finally someone…”

The cadence in his voice was all over the place, rising and falling like the rapid ebb and flow of spring tides. 

If you’d known this conversation would turn out like this, you would’ve just kept your mouth shut.

“It’s not like I don’t understand any of them…” you tried. There had to be some kind of damage control you could attempt...

But Donnie didn’t seem very willing to listen.

So, what else was there left to do but pack your things silently and tell him to give you a call when he felt like talking again? If… he felt like talking again.

You’d had to swallow down the lump in your throat as you left him there, biting back whimpers all the way to the surface. And then you walked home, tears streaming down your cheeks and shoulders quaking—quite a different walk of shame, but about just as humiliating. 

Nice.

Your apartment felt like nauseating refuge and you laid in bed past dinner, damning to hell any homework you’d been planning to do. It was the last thing you could think about.

You and Donnie rarely fight. The times when you do are never explosive or trivial, which is why they always cut deep. It means there’s a real issue that needs to be dealt with. This time, though...

You’re unconfident about a solution. You can promise to be a better listener, sure, but the two of you have been dating for something like five years now. If you know Donnie, he’s more than likely feeling betrayed and… those are a lot of years worth of betrayal.

You clip just south of where you want to, and only this accidental snip brings you back to the present moment. You watch the flower as it floats down clumsily into earth below. 

At least this mistake isn’t so grave. You figure the plant still looks okay—you wouldn’t even call it a bad haircut. Just one poorly angled trim.

Still, you decide it might be best to lay down the shears for a while. So you do just that, cradling the fallen flower, bringing it to the edge of the rooftop where you take up an uncomfortable seat and indulge in a grey sky. 

There are tinges of muted purple where you know the sun is surely setting behind the clouds right about now and you hope, if you’re patient enough, you might get to see some flashes of lighting. Hear the rumbles of thunder, feel the wash of evening rain.

For now, though you simply thumb the petals on your flower, letting your vision go misty over the cityscape.

That is, until you feel one of the petals fall. Your attention pulls downward and you stare it, feeling wistful suddenly. You didn’t mean to do that...

You’re not sure what comes over you—maybe an urge to put the flower to good use now that you’ve mangled it—but you mumble out a small, “He loves me,” and pray to every deity you know that Pete won’t pick this very minute to find you up here talking to yourself. He’d never judge or mind, of course not, but this is for your own dignity. 

You pick off the next petal. “He loves me not.”

And the next. “He loves me.”

Each ends up blown in the wind which is not only remarkably melodramatic, but also not your ideal method of disposal, what with the compost box idling not fifteen feet from where you’re sitting.

By the time you reach the last petal, you kind of want to cry.

Obviously, this is in no way indicative of real life, but the thought hurts all the same.

“He loves me... not.”

You stay with that, inconsolably sullen. 

You half a mind to reach for your phone—to text or call him, to see if he’s up for a chat, but you know better than to step over his boundaries like that and, besides, you left the device in your room, under the covers with the rest of your despair. You’re just about to get up—call it a night, throw in the towel, wave your white flag—when, out of nowhere, another flower falls into your lap. 

Donatello's voice is low in your ear. “He loves me.”

You observe it there in your lap for one small moment, shutting your eyes at the ripple of relief that passes over you.

You kind of just want to put your head in your hands, fold in on yourself even, but then Donnie takes his rightful place beside you and you can’t do anything except stare.

“Don’t talk over yourself all at once or anything,” he deadpans. And then: “I mean that, let me go first.”

The corners of your mouth twitch.

“I… Um." His eyebrows raise and his head tilts like maybe he had words prepared but like they’ve most definitely vanished from that big brain of his. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. I do know that you listen.”

You open your mouth to argue—to jump in and tell him that his feelings are valid when he holds up a hand.

“W-wait. Let me finish. Don’t tell me I had a point. That shouldn’t have been a fight, okay? That was my own insecurity and you got the brunt of it.” He glances out at the horizon, then back you. "It’s okay that you don’t understand my inventions as well as I do. It was unreasonable for me to expect that.”

Now that he’s done, you’re actually a little dubious about what to reply. You twirl the flower in your lap aimlessly.

“What made you change your mind?”

“I…” He inhales and when he breathes out again, he’s smiling. “I know your bubble tea order, and your favourite ice cream flavour, and your favourite hobby.” He gestures around like this last one is, clearly, evident. 

You look down, only a little sheepish.

“I know the names of all your friends and family, and where you go to school. What pet names you like to be called, your hopes and dreams, the things that keep you up at night... I know your birthday and your favourite foods—and I could tell you all about your pet peeves, your taste in music, and your favourite franchises.

"But... I don’t know the first word you ever spoke or what age you learned to ride a bike, or even what three things you’d bring with you if you were stranded on a desert island.”

At this hypothetical, he gives you a playful roll of the eyes, silently reminding you how he hates those kind of platitudes but also that, apparently, he’s willing to entertain them if it means discovering something new about you.

“Where’s this headed, Othello?” you ask softly, a desperate attempt to get him to move past the sentimental stuff lest you turn into a puddle right here.

“I guess… just—that I realized I don’t totally understand you yet. And while I might not ever get to know you fully and completely, I would very much like to spend… the future... learning as much as I possibly can.” 

You can’t help but grin at the way he’s so careful to avoid the “rest of my life” cliché and the insinuations that come along with it. Of course, you’re not overly preoccupied with such details. After all, these sappy speeches are rare enough and you should probably seize the opportunity while you can.

“I…” you mumble softly, inching your face closer to his. “Would very much like that too."

Your foreheads fall together for a small, special moment before you press upwards and kiss him sweetly.

He falls into it, ostensibly eager to welcome any signs of forgiveness you’ll spare.

“‘M sorry I yelled at you,” he murmurs against your mouth. 

“S’okay.” You draw back a little. “I get it. Your tech means a lot to you.”

“It… feels like part of me. Like, three whole quarters of me,” he admits. “And it’s kind of hard to come to terms with the fact that… you know, it’s not. Not really.”

You think on that for a moment. “Of course it’s part of you. They're your creations.”

He seems to consider this but, before he can wager a response, you’re leaning in a little closer.

"And that’s why I can love them without understanding them. Because I love you."

He perks up at this, all kinds of love sick.

His grin goes loopy, cheeks and snout dusted in pink, and then he’s clearing his throat, avoiding your gaze, sitting up a little straighter. “Well, that’s one way to win a debate."

Your arms go up in the air triumphantly. “He’s accepted defeat!”

"Might I interest thee in a pizza dinner for thine victory?”

“My, my, and here I thought this flower was reward enough,” you chirp, holding it up for him.

Donnie looks shy suddenly.

“You stole it from up here didn’t you?”

He nods ruefully. 

You laugh, getting to your feet and holding out a hand to him. “Come on, Thiefatello. Our pizza evening awaits.”

“God, I hope that nickname won’t stick.” He slides his palm in yours, letting you help him up. 

“Well, that all depends on what else you’ve plundered.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Fine, keep your secrets,” you concede, making your way to the roof’s access door. “It’ll cost you greatly though.”

“Oh?” he utters curiously.

“Some bubble tea with our pie,” you ask more than tell.

“Oh, well, obviously. I’m not a barbarian, Y/N."

You grin widely. And then: “Oh, by the way, I’ve got a favour to ask.”

“I’m all ears.”

“How much would you say you know about hearing aids?”

[dragonrider9905]

Hi guys! This is a little something a friend and I wrote a bit back:) Now that it’s cold I thought I’d share it! I hope you enjoy it!

Statistics in Stupidity

Summery: Echo decides to have a little fun with the Batch and see whose tongues can get stuck on frozen metal. How many of them will fall for it?

Echo looked out his window of the room he shared with his brothers in the Naboo palace. Since he was just new to the Batch and still healing of his wounds, Anakin thought it would be a good idea to assign Clone Force 99 on slightly easier missions to ground the newly rescued clone and give him time to adjust to …. everything. All the changes that had happened since Echo had been held by the Techno Union. Echo’s mischief-making twin was gone, he had new cybernetic limbs he had to adjust to, and the art of living from day to day. Survivor's guilt was one thing, but so was the trauma of what was endured. Echo needed something to do and a break so naturally, Anakin thought Naboo was a good idea. Commander Cody must have thought it was a good idea too because he didn’t need Rex to nudge him at all to give his special ops force a break. He did it in a wink of an eye.

And Anakin was right.

Naboo was beautiful. A wonderful planet to get into little adventures on, especially around the palace. In winter, when the planet is covered in snow, Theed looked enchanting and for a clone who’s only ever seen a watery storm; the ice reflecting in the snow on a golden morning when the sun rises with the reds, oranges and pinks was a memory truly treasured and imprinted in the mind forever.

The assignment was simple. Guard Senator Padme Amidala at the upcoming gala in three days. . . which left lots of free time on the hands of the Batchers…and Echo possessing the spirit of the 501st mischief and trickery and Fives’ spirit beside him. Echo thought he'd have a little fun.

And here Hunter was worried that Echo wouldn’t fit in and feel out of place. He wanted him to feel at home right away but it was unrealistic to expect that. He was partially right of course. Echo did feel odd with a whole new set of brothers who were not his own batchmates but they tried hard to make Echo feel welcome and the chaos he served under in the 501st and the Batch were startlingly similar. Hunter hoped that in time Echo would be comfortable with their jokes and jabs and their whole chaotic mess; little did he know that oh yes, Echo would fit in just fine. . .

—————————

Everyone knows not to lick frozen metal. That is common knowledge, or at least Echo thought. If you read the How to Survive in Frigid Temperatures manual, section 33 of chapter 2, volume 1, it clearly states that.

——————————

Echo, Wrecker and Tech were walking the grounds of the palace together on the pretense of ‘scouting’ the area to become familiar with their new surroundings when they came upon a simple metal contraption in the center of the garden more towards the back of the palace.

“Naboo’s existence has lasted many millennia. They have kept many of the customs their people held to this day, only modifying a few. Now the royal family is elected but before it was handed down by blood. Children would grow up in the palace in those ages where now that is not the case. It is interesting to see that they have kept the exercise ‘play’ structures around. Being a people of tradition, it does not surprise me.”

Echo’s eyes gleaned looking at the tall windy stairs, slides and firepoles compiled and a sparkle flashed behind his eyes as a memory came to mind. He knew he really shouldn’t do it, but he had to. He just had to. Tech was already on the other side of the ‘playground’ studying the structure. Perfect.

After all, after the ‘incident’ happened, how could he NOT test out who would do it or not.

“Wrecker, don’t lick the poll.”

“Wha? Why not?”

Echo had to stifle a laugh and keep his face a convincing unconcerned neutral.

“Because I said so.”

“Oh yeah? Watch this!”

Wrecker stalked up quickly to the playground and in less than two seconds, Wrecker’s tongue was stuck.

“Uhhhh Eko, a wi-el hek plea-”

“Wrecker! Wha- how did that happen? I’ll go get Tech and see if he can help.”

“Ank Oo”

So Echo rounded the set and came upon Tech who was intently studying a turning, circular structure Echo remembered being referred to as a ‘merry-go-round’.

“Hey Tech, whatcha looking at?”

“I am merely studying the fluidity and output of the turn per force applied. I might be able to do something with this idea…”

“Don’t lick it.”

Tech stopped up short and looked at Echo quizzically. “Why–why would I lick it?” His eyes got round and he raised an eyebrow at the ridiculous notion. “My tongue would stick to the metal, creating a difficult and painful removal.”

Echo had to let out a chuckle. He couldn’t contain his laughter any longer nor could he keep his mischief making to himself. He had to share his story. “Hehe, I know; once I was on a mission with my twin, Fives, and overnight the planet dropped to below freezing temperatures. It was our first time in the cold and Fives wanted to experience it first hand—by touching and tasting everything in sight. It was an advanced planet like this one and we came across a playground like this. I told him ‘Fives, don’t lick the swing set’ and before I could tell him why, he just said ‘don’t tell me what to do’ and did it.” Again Echo let out a nostalgic laugh and a few tears left his eyes. Red rose to his cheeks and it was safe to say it was not just from the cold wind but the warmth he felt inside at the memory as it bloomed in his mind’s eye.

“I can only imagine how that turned out.” Tech smirked back.

“Yeah, he got stuck for two hours. I left to get Kix who was only a few minutes away. He wanted him to stay there until he learned his lesson but promptly went to him anyway. Afterward when Fives re-created the story he would say, ‘remember when you dared me to….?’ So now, I test who I can get to lick a frozen piece of metal.”

“How many have you gotten.”

“More than you’d believe.”

Tech gave a huff of a laugh then was quiet for a second. With what Echo could call an evil grin, Tech said:

“I’ll keep your statistics for you.”

Echo had to return the impish glint. “You can add that one to the list.” He tossed his thumb in Wrecker’s direction. When Tech followed Echo’s line of direction he let out a big sigh. “Honestly, he should know better. Maybe I just have hope my brothers would develop brains but apparently not.” Echo could only laugh.

“Come on, let’s help him, then let’s see if we can get Crosshair.”

—————————

If Echo thought Tech looked mischievous before, the look that came over Tech’s face was positively scheming. “I’m in. Let’s do it. We’ll have to do it just right if we really want to get him. If this works, I’ll need to save it for the future.” and touched the recording button on his helmet.

Echo and Tech approached Crosshair lazily, talking casually to each other. They didn’t want to make him suspicious but his eyebrow was raised anyway. Echo and Tech knew what they had to do to get him so they had to play it just right.

“Hey Cross, come with us!” Tech called to him.

He just kicked his feet up on the bench he was resting on.

“Why.”

“Because, Wrecker got stuck . . .he licked a frozen structure.”

He rolled his eyes but was smirking and got up. “This I have to see.” So he idly strolled behind the two schemers twirling a toothpick in his mouth.

When he got there, and saw Wrecker stuck to the playset he busted out laughing. “Really, Wrecker?” Wrecker only groaned and rolled his eyes.

Tech chimed in. “Wrecker, how quick of a touch was it? I would like to research the results of this if you don’t mind. Perhaps you held it on just too long and that’s why it got stuck. Perhaps if the timing was shorter…”

“Don’t lick the playset too Cross, I don’t think you’ll end up any better than Wrecker here.”

Crosshair sighed and leaned up against Wrecker, cocking his eyebrow again. “Is that a challenge?” He smirked.

“No, just don���t do it.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Tech and Echo discreetly glanced at each other. Echo was fighting every muscle in his face trying not to grin because Cross had taken the bait.

Crosshair immediately did what Tech and Echo thought he’d do. He’d lick the playset to try and one up Wrecker. Try to get out scot free—and do it out of spite. Echo told him not to so he would.

“Perhaps we should go get Hunter?” Tech barely contained his laugh.

——————————

“Hey Hunter, would you lick metal in the cold?”

Hunter raised his eyebrows and placed a hand on his hip. “What are you trying to tell me, Echo? Tech’s amused face is more than enough context to tell me something’s up.”

“Well Hunter, would you?” Echo pressed.

“No, that’d be stupid.”

“At least we have three sensible people on this team.” Tech chimed in happily.

“The real reason we came back early from our walk was…we need help…getting….uh….we need help.” Echo stammered out halfway embarrassed and half proud of himself, trying not to laugh.

Hunter’s face when he saw Wrecker and Crosshair, side by side, tongues stuck to the frozen playset was priceless. No words could describe the absolute shock and second hand embarrassment as he pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, just hoping that somehow this was some sort of a dream.

“Ok boys, wanna tell me how this happened?”

“Ii wa Ekoo kault!”

————————————

Later on that night, Tech and Echo re-watched the recordings from that day’s event and laughed with each other, clapping each other on the back while Hunter scribbled away. He had to admit, as un-amusing as it was in the moment, it was pretty funny to look back on and it was one for the books.

@shyranno in honor of your cold comic ;)

[yutanology]

Kids (Prologue)| NCT Dream × Fem!Reader

Warning : cliche, a few cusses, little fluff, possessiveness, NCT Dream being bratty and stubborn. No proofread :(

Synopsis : Y/n somehow ended up helping Mark babysit his stepbrothers for the weekend. That two days of babysitting soon turned into frequent days of her visiting them as they would throw a fit if she wouldn't. When she thought everything would be fine soon, it only became worse as time passed by.

Take note that Mark and Y/n are at the same age(15). 00 line are 7 while Chenle is 6 and Jisung is 5.

"Vroom! Vroom! Vrooom!" Jisung said loudly through his pouted lips. He was sitting on his big toy car, imitating the roaring machine of an actual car.

Behind him was Chenle pushing him on all sides of the wide nursery room to make Jisung feel like he's really driving the car. The younger kid raised both his hands up, enjoying the ride and the room was filled with their cute giggles.

"Hey, slow down. You might get hurt—" Mark immediately cut his own words, replacing it with a loud yelp when the wheels of the car they were riding ran on his toes. "Ahhh!" he instinctively crouched down to hold his toes that were now throbbing in pain.

The duo didn't even bother to look back at him and ask if he's okay cuz they're too entertained to even notice his suffering.

"Y/n, help!" he called out for the female who just entered the room carrying a very hyper Haechan on her arms that she chased around the house for almost half an hour so she could get him to wear his pants.

She had such a great time giving him a bath. Haechan splashed water on her clothes, saying that he wanted her to join him on his bubble bath. Ending him getting her hoodie soaked wet (she took it off and let it dry), thankfully, her shirt was safe.

He wanted to play with her all the time. He doesn't want her to take a break even for a damn minute and he never ran out of some things he'd like to say. Either he makes sense or not, he doesn't care.

She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be enjoying her time alone at home while it's still weekend but here she is, babysitting her friend's stepbrothers. It just so happened that she met Mark's parents when both of them walked home together yesterday from school.

They had a little chitchat and eventually got along. Then that's when they asked her a favor to help Mark take care of his stepbrothers during the weekend as they won't be able to keep an eye on them because of their busy schedules.

She was about to decline until she heard that they're going to pay her a fair price. Yup, she needed money that's why she agreed with them. Her family is not as rich as the Lees so she can't always get the things she wanted to buy. So in order to be able to, she had to work for it. She got her parent's permission that night, letting her do what she wanted.

"Why? What happened?" she asked Mark, trying to keep Haechan still or he'll fall down but she decided to put his feet on the floor. "Nooo! Carry me! Carry me!" Haechan whined, holding his arms up to her.

She tiredly sighed, picking him up again. She knew the last thing to do to him is to make him upset. He'd cry nonstop and would totally be mad at everyone. She didn't want that. Things would be harder to handle than it already is right now.

"My toes freaking hurt! I don't think I'll be able to stand up." He over exaggerated.

Y/n approached him to check if he's alright then found his toes flamming red. "Oh god, uhm, I'll go get some ice or something. I don't know how to treat that but I hope it would help." she rushed to the kitchen with Haechan still on her arms.

Opening the top of the fridge, she saw an ice pack. She grabbed it and was about to close the fridge when Haechan spotted the fruit popsicles. "I want that." he pointed at the sweet treats that caught his attention.

She reached the first popsicle, "I don't like that. I want the strawberry." then she gave him one. He better not have cavities for eating too much sweets or else she'd be blamed for it.

She helped him get rid of the plastic wrapper, throwing it on the trash bin before letting him eat the fruit popsicle. His eyes almost literally twinkled once the cold strawberry treat touched his tongue. At least, he's happy now.

They both went back to the room, handing Mark the ice pack to help it ease the pain on his poor toes. "Thanks." Mark sighed and she nodded, sitting beside him on the sofa but their eyes are still on the kids just to make sure they're okay.

"Where are your maids? Aren't they supposed to be helping us here?"

"They all went home to their families. Only our cook and our driver are the only workers left here." That explains why she didn't bump into someone else in this house.

Renjun was not so far from them. He's quietly sitting on the carpeted floor attaching puzzle pieces together, focusing on completing the picture into whole. Despite the whole chaos going on around him, he somehow found peace on the corner of the room.

Well, not until he found out that Jeno was chewing on the other puzzle pieces. He's been trying to look at the missing items on his puzzle only to find out that they're with Jeno all the time.

The two kids fought. Renjun was huffing mad while Jeno was crying. Even though he already said sorry, Renjun doesn't seem to forgive him anytime soon for ruining his puzzle that he worked on for hours since this morning.

Mark limped his way to Jeno to calm him down and Y/n took care of Renjun (and Haechan, of course). She was in the middle of a conversation with Renjun when she felt a tug on her shirt.

Looking down, she saw a sleepy Jaemin rubbing his eyes. "I'm sleepy." he said. He must've been worn out from joining Haechan at every trouble he initiated.

"Oh, wait a second." she told him, he silently nodded.

"Haechan, can you please sit here with Renjun for a while?" she carefully put him beside the said boy.

"Huh? But why? Where are you going?" he asked her after he took out the popsicle out of his mouth.

She lifted Jaemin on her arms this time which Haechan frowned at. "I'll just go take him to his room. I'll be back, I promise." She waited him to say something but he stayed silent, glaring at the boy playing her hair, completely unaware of the piercing gaze of his stepbrother.

"Uhm, we'll go now..." she awkwardly informed him before making her way out of the room for the nth time of the day. This time, she's the one unaware of Jaemin sticking his tongue at Haechan to tease him. Before he could stomp his way to him, Y/n was already out of the room with Jaemin, leaving both Renjun and Haechan angry of different reasons.

Throughout the whole time she carried Jaemin to his room, he continued to play with her hair. Twirling silky strands of her hair on his small fingers, droopy eyes slowly closing and his head weighed on her shoulder.

Assuming that he fell asleep, Y/n could only sigh in relief that one of the most chaotic step brothers finally took his rest. After climbing a few more flight of stairs, she reached his room at last. The whole mansion is too big for her liking but she's not the one living here so she can't have something to say to it.

She pushed the door open, laying Jaemin on his queen sized bed then she covered half of his body with his comforters. "Sleep well, Jaemin." she kissed his forehead before she left him and he slept with a smile adorning his lips.

"What took you so long?" Haechan immediately asked her, arms crossed on his chest and his brows still furrowed together. "Haechan, you know how far Jaemin's room is from here. Come on, stop being sulky. I'm already here."

She glanced at Mark reading a book for Jisung, Chenle and Jeno on the table. "Why don't you join them?" Haechan shook his head. "Because I don't want to."

"Aren't you going to take your afternoon nap too?"

"No."

"What about—" he didn't let her finish her words as he stood up and stomped away out of the nursery room. He left her there confused. Renjun who had finally cooled off his anger approached her.

"He's mad at you."

Y/n looked down at him. "I just tucked Jaemin to sleep. Why'd he gotta make a big deal about it?" she asked as if she's talking to herself. Renjun knew the answer but didn't blurt out anything about it instead he held her hand.

"Can we go pick flowers on the garden?" she smiled at him with a nod. "Yeah, sure. Let's go."

[randomsnakesimp]

Okay. I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna take the leap and say: Phobos is the victim (sorta).

Quick disclaimer: I am going to abuse plot holes and cartoon logic for my cause in a very nitpicky way. If you dislike that, I can completely understand, and I hope this warning will save you a lot of reading.

Also, this won't go into just headcanon territory, I'll put those in a separate post. Everything here I'll try to keep based on actual information from the comics and what I made of them.

That said...

Let's take a look at this scene:

(for a quick translation of the important part, the mother says: "No, Phobos, Meridian is meant for your sister. That's the law. The crown is hers.)

What we can see here are a few very important things:

1. Phobos is at most 5 years older than Elyon.

2. The name "Phobos" is not an edgy nickname he gave himself. Five-year-olds don't go around calling themselves Phobos. So his parents, for some reason, gave him that name.

3. His mother is very adamant about him not even touching the crown and reminding him of his sisters' birthright.

So, after establishing what I would call more or less facts, what else can, relatively savely, be deduced here?

- Since Elyon never noticed anything weird about herself, she can't have aged slower than earth children. So neither can Phobos. This would mean that, as she was kidnapped after her mothers death as a baby, he would have been five. So, he either tried his best to rule at age five, or the council we see as Elyon rules stepped in for him for a while

- this would then mean two things: we need an explanation as to why Miriadel, Alborn and Galgheita fled explicitly from Phobos (I'll give my explanation a bit further down) and second, Phobos' reign of terror wasn't even thirteen years, and a lot of that time he was a child/teen and could not even have been mature enough to rule.

- This also means that Kandrakar pulled up the veil when Phobos was at most five, likely younger, and that the so called "Seal of Phobos" also existed at that time, as both the veil and the seal are seen in the flashback depicting Elyons abduction. For Kandrakar, this, too, I will try to explain soon, but as for the seal, I find it most plausible that the theory @ror-witch used in their fanfiction, of the seal being a royal heirloom and named after each ruler, is true.

- His and his mother's relationship was neither as bad as some assumptions go, but neither was it that good, probably, or at least it wasn't in his perception. See how his memory is of her cradling the baby the entire time and talking more about his sisters birthright than about what he has/can do? Yes, it's only a short memory, but I think it's clear that it's a summary of what he remembers of his mother.

- Phobos desire to rule Meridian does not stem from something deeply sinister, but rather from a childish spite. Five year old Phobos probably just wanted the crown cause it looked nice and shiny, and he was fabulous even back then, but after his mothers words, he sulked and decided to show her. That's his motivation.

So, now let's go a bit further and look at some other things we can deduce from the rest of the comics:

- Phobos has a huge dungeon, a wall of roses that turn people into more roses if they touch it and his plan for the annihilation of Meridian is "Well, Cedric and I hide in the castle and...we'll see". He hates the people of Meridian, but he doesn't seem to have it in him to directly attack anyone until Elyon is there and even here, when he has her knocked out in their duel or locked up as Endarno, he isn't unnecessarily cruel. He's not evil in nature, he's more of a very dangerous child throwing tantrums. ( Cedric is kinda similar, and they both start losing it toward the coronation, but I sincerely believe that before that, there would have been a chance for them to come around )

- The only person he ever tortures or even hurts directly is Cedric. Because one, he likes Cedric and so gets more extreme emotions around him, and two, Cedric never says anything, and just plays it of afterwards, so I don't know if he even fully realizes what he's doing, like a child hitting someone. If Cedric ever just said "Stop it, you're hurting me", Phobos would probably need an entire week to process that input.

- Phobos is VERY reclusive, and he doesn't want anyone to have even pictures of him, and while that could be a God complex, I get some highly insecure vibes out of it, in a vulnerable narcissist kinda way, in that he is massively overcompensating. I gotta admit, though, that I cannot put my finger on why, so maybe take this with a grain of salt and decide for yourself if you agree.

- Kandrakar never orders the guardians to help Meridian in any way, just to make sure nothing oozes out. They likely pulled up the veil for their own protection, so Phobos wouldn't be able to spread far enough to become a real danger, rather than to protect innocent people, as clearly the Meridian people mean shit to them

- while the guards are widely feared in Meridian, Cedric seems to be viewed as... not very frightening or important, as some random merchant feels comfortable clinging to his cape (and rightfully so, apparently, as Cedric just tells him to piss off and doesn't care any further). This further leads me to believe that Cedric is rather unhealthy devoted to Phobos and his tantrums while their shitty ass reign leaves a lot of free space for unsuited people to become guards and tyranize the people.

- the King and Queen seem to have died in rapid succession, and shortly after the scene shown above, yet she looks perfectly healthy in that scene.

Now, what do I make of all this?

I believe the line of events to be as follows:

I don't think Phobos traveling back in time is a viable theory for mainly two reasons: I think his mother would be less chill around him if she saw/heard about his reign herself, and I believe that it would have been mentioned somewhere along the way if that were the case. Instead, what I believe happened is that the oracle had a vague vision of Phobos nearly taking over Kandrakar. Deciding in their random mood swings that today was a day of action, they had the people of Meridian informed that the next male born to a queen would become a dangerous tyrant, pulled up a veil and set their guardians to make sure nothing oozed out.

The veil, of course, made the people of Meridian feel trapped and a horror of the unborn prince who would ruin their lives spread.

So, when Weira gave birth to that prince, a full blown panic spread, so much so that she, in a fit of hysterical emotion, named him after that boust of panic. Of course, people tried to kill the prince basically from the moment he was born, and he was met with barely concealed resentment.

Soon after, Weira and her husband died - whether they were killed, or fell ill, or died in an accident, I have no idea, but I wouldn't completely rule out an assassination either aimed at Phobos and accidentally hitting them or the strain making at least one of them fall terminally ill.

Either the people rioted and Phobos' magic panic reaction or the leftover loyal guard was enough to fight them back, or the people succumbed to their fate at this point, slumping into the state of despair seen throughout the comics. But in the end, five year old Phobos had to be handed the throne. I assume the council still had some say at this point, but he did manage to get all pictures of him destroyed - this order was likely due to the fact that they were mostly caricatures.

So he grew up with the very volatile combination of a shitton of power and no one able to tell him if he was being stupid on one hand, and feeling unloved and unwanted on the other. He withdrew, likely also due to countless assassination attempts or things he perceived as such, and went into a negative feedback loop of being unable to mature and take responsibility, therefore being a shit ruler, therefore being hated, therefore having no one to help him, therefore being unable to face and grow from his mistakes, rinse and repeat.

So, Meridian was plunged into chaos, yet he seemed fine more or less just sitting in the new playroom he made for himself in the gardens, sporadically giving out an order or two and having generally no idea about anything that didn't directly concern him.

Enter Elyon. Now, she send him of the rails, as she was a danger to his lifestyle AND a reminder of all the sentiments he'd be drowning in alcohol if he wasn't too much of a recluse and education denier to know of that option. He doesn't even try. He just lets Cedric, the one person he trusts, handle her, like everything else, and somewhat plays along sometimes, when he feels like it. This is where he passes the point of no return and starts actually trying to kill people, culminating in him creating an army to wipe out Meridian. I still believe that even at this point, in his head, what he's doing is just throwing a nice toy out the window just so his sister won't have it.

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Unraveling at the Alter

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: Fluff.

Rating: G

Length: Drabble

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: Thank you @agniavateira​ for helping me with this :) It is massively appreciated. 

Henry Cavill Master List

This was it.

Years of waiting.

Years of heartache, joy, and more love than he knew was possible.

Henry sighed and rubbed his hands against his slacks, licking his lips nervously, he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Oh god. Oh god! He bent forward, fighting the urge to vomit. Why the fuck was he so nervous? It's not like this was anything new. He'd been madly in love with her for years, even when they weren't together he had held some sort of twisted hope for this very day.

Not to be that man, but Henry had been somewhat in love with her from the first week he'd met her. All of those years ago, some days it felt like an entirely different life.

“Dad,” Ivan laid his hand on Henry's arm.

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay? Do I need to get Uncle Charlie?” His blue eyes watched his father with great concern.

All morning the house had been consumed in chaos. Henry had taken up residence in the office, at the opposite end of the house from where Nell had been getting ready upstairs. His brothers – and Nell's, fathers, mothers, Ivan, and Kal had been in and out of the room a hundred and one times. Until his mother had the sense to ask them all to get out. With the exception of his best man and his dog.

Henry was thankful for the bit of silence, before the actual ceremony.  Evidently he wasn't hiding his nerves as well as he had hoped to.

“No, wild boy, I'm fine. Thank you.” Henry forced a smile to ease his son's worries. “Have you seen your mum?” Henry hadn't set eyes on her since this morning, when he was woken by Ivan jumping on their bed and urging his dad to hurry downstairs.

Ivan smirked, his eyes sparkling as he nodded eagerly. He had never seen her look so pretty, he may have even cried a little. “Dad, she looks like a princess! But without all the stupid frills and no singing mice.”

Henry laughed at Ivan's details. Leave it to Ivan.

With some tradition, Henry had yet to see the dress that Nell had picked. His only hint had been that it wasn't a traditional wedding dress, although she was confident he would love it all the same. She was head over heels for her dress. The delicate blue and white beading at the top gave way to a flowing emerald satin skirt. She'd found it while looking for bride's maid dresses.

Since they were getting married in their own garden, Nell felt that a relaxed look would be acceptable. Besides, she had no interest in putting on a big poofy, over the top dress, only to take it off an hour later and never wear it again.

Unconfirmed, Henry had a sneaky suspicion that her dress in some way matched the attire she had found for him. Nell had convinced him to go with a dark green waistcoat and slacks,  who was Henry to argue. She had been dressing him long enough to know what he would look good in. Ivan looked adorable in his matching attire.

A soft knock on the door, with something mumbled through from the hall, indicated that it was time for Henry, his best man, and his dog to take post in the garden.

“Coming,” Ivan called back, smiling like the cat who'd found the canary.  

“Kal,” Henry whistled, the big dog lifting his head and huffing. Slowly standing with a yawn, Kal licked his lips and sauntered over to big Henry shaking his head. This silly blue bow tie that they had put on him was beginning to get in the way of a good nap. “Come on, bear. It's time to roll.”

“Dad,” Ivan walked beside Henry, his hands in his pockets.

“Yes?”

“Are you happy to be marrying mum?”

“I have no words to tell you how happy I am, wild boy.” Henry beamed. “Are you happy about this?”

“I guess,” Ivan shrugged and smiled. “If it makes you and mum happy. Why not?”

“Always the supportive one,” Henry rolled his eyes, chuckling at Ivan's passive demeanor.

The groomsmen looked smart, well put together, and turned out better than Henry could have imagined. Ivan stood straight, his hair styled to match his dad's, with Kal at his side. One bride's maid, then two, a third, then fourth, by the fifth Henry was again feeling like he was going to vomit. Deep breaths. Hands sweaty, he wished he'd asked to see Nell before hand. He would have been able to tell her how spectacular she looked while crying like a baby, in private.

No use wishing for that now.

As the music began, he could feel his hands shake. Kal whimpered beside Ivan and nudged his nose into Ivan's side, moving him closer to Henry. Smiling at his dad, Ivan reached out, taking his hand.

Nell had spent the morning fretting over every tiny detail of her day. Was her hair the right way, her make up as she had sampled? Did her dress fit and fall the exact way it had the moment she'd fell in love with it? Would Henry be pleased? Would he be as shaky as her? Crying and trying to catch breath.

More than once, Nell had felt like she was being sat on by an elephant. Only to be filled with sudden excitement and wanting to scream in pure delight. Her sister and mother had barely left her side since she'd woken. Ivan had come barreling into the room before dawn, jumping on the bed and shouting for Henry to get out. Leave it to their son.

Her father had assured her that Henry looked every bit dashing and handsome as she had wished. Perhaps more, now that she saw him in his perfect wedding suit. They couldn't have planned this better. The weather was amazing, for a mid November day. Nell had worked hard on her garden, since they'd moved in a few months ago, making sure it was perfect for the day.

“How is your dad?” She'd asked Ivan a few hours ago.

A mischievous grin, the wild boy shrugged. “He looks like a prince, but without the stupid Disney animation.”

Cheeky. Like his father.

Taking her father's arm, Nell inhaled and exhaled slowly. Her hands trying to steady the bouquet that she held in her left hand. Around her the music began to play, when asked about music for the ceremony Nell had casually mentioned how cool it would be to have an instrumental version to one of her favourite songs. What she hadn't been expecting was Henry to deliver.  One bride's maid...two...She closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry before she got down the aisle.

“Deep breath, Nelly.” Walt winked gently patting her hand. Nell nodded and smiled. “You're going to knock him dead, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, dad.” Her voice barely cracked above a whisper.

“Ready?” Walt looked at his youngest, smiling wide.

A slight nod, Nell took her first step forward, humming to the music to soothe her. The distance from the back door of the house to where Henry waited in the garden was exactly 152 steps, at the pace she would be going. She had practiced a time or two, while she had been home alone – using Kal as a stand in for Henry. In the garden a few chairs were placed, along with a delicate arrangement of lights. Who would have thought she'd be able to pull this all together in less than four full months.

60 people, all who were close and meaningful, around the garden to share in the day. Nell could feel the tears welling. At the end of the meticulous stone walkway, Henry stood with Ivan clutching his hand. Neither one of them did a very good job at keeping the tears at bay. Ivan reached up, wiping his sleeve across his eyes. Henry swallowed the lump in his throat trying not to sob loudly.

Ivan had been right when he'd said Princess. Nell was somehow more spectacular than Henry had imagined. Walter stopped, giving Nell a kiss on the cheek and Ivan a quick wink. Stepping forward to meet his bride, Henry let out a breath and a low whistle.

“Thank you,” He gave his father in law to be a quick nod.

Muttering back a quick congratulations, Walt took his seat in the front next to his waiting wife. Kal leapt forward a little greeting Nell with an affectionate “boof!”.

“Kal, sit.” Ivan quickly hushed the big dog.

Giving the couple a quick moment to sort themselves, Michael smiled and patiently stood. Henry had asked him to marry them, off the cuff, since he and Nell couldn't agree on anyone else to do the job. A soft laugh from the crowd when Kal tried to wiggle free from Ivan, again.

Ignoring the bit of commotion around him, Henry was lost in the sight before him. The soft, gentleness was Nell through and through.

“Oh, my darling.” Henry cooed, holding her hand tightly. Kissing the back of her hand, he smiled warmly. “You look,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “You,” he sniffled. “Janelle, my darling.”

“Dad,” Ivan nudged him with his elbow in the back, Kal contained by his uncle beside him. “Tell her she's pretty! Don't just stand around and cry.”

A camera flashed and a few chuckles filled the air, from those close enough to hear Ivan's commentary. Rolling his eyes, Ivan sighed and gently shook his head. Adults.

“Shush, you.” Henry chuckled at Ivan, tears on his cheeks. “Nelly, you are...wow. Absolutely wow!”

“I love you,” Nell smiled, kissing his cheek. “And you, wild boy” she peeked at Ivan, ���stop teasing him.”

“I love you all, and I hate to rush this moment, because you look fantastic.” Michael shook his head, trying to stop his own flood of tears, his baby sister looked absolutely stunning. “But...” He gestured to the crowd.

Nell giggled and Henry laughed. “Of course, of course.”

“I love you,” Nell mouthed quickly to her big brother.

Reciting vows that they had written for one another, exchanging their rings, and listening as Michael recited some words about love and marriage – no doubt something he had found when he went online to become ordained, Nell couldn't help herself as she became lost watching Henry. A time or two she had heard their guest chuckle, which prompted her to giggle along. Words lost to her, as she admired the man before her.

The crinkles on his eyes, the soft dimples when he smiled, or the smoothness of his voice when he read her the vows he'd written. God she had been so lucky.

“You are now husband and wife.” Michael happily announced, “Henry, I know she's my sister, but...this once I'll encourage you to kiss her.” he teased, slapping Henry's shoulder. Everyone sharing in their happiness.

Rolling his eyes, in typical Cavill fashion, Ivan groaned as his parents stood in front of everyone kissing like a couple of teenagers. His uncle shielding his eyes, Ivan giggled loudly. Thanking him for the help. He was bound to have nightmares over that kiss. Gross!

Kal wiggled and bounced on his leash, trying to convince whoever had a hold of him that he could be a good boy. He had spotted a squirrel earlier, on the east side of the house, in his duty of wedding dog, he didn't have a chance to properly investigate.

Around them people clapped, cheering the happy couple as they turned to face their guests, for the first time, as husband and wife. Nell wiped a few more tears away, sniffling. Henry smiled softly, his swiping his thumbs across her cheeks.

“Mum, momma, mum.” Ivan broke their moment, gently tugging at Nell's arm.

“Yes?”

“I love you. And I think you look really pretty. I told dad you looked like a princess, but I don't think he believed me.”

“I didn't say that.” Henry rolled his eyes, taking Nell's hand to step forward to join the guests waiting to mingle and personally congratulate the couple.

“You two are something else.” Laughing, Nell snagged Ivan gently pulling him into a hug. Kissing the top of his head, he was nearly as tall as her. Catching her mother's eye, she smiled, “I think they're waiting for us.”

“Do we have to take photos?” Ivan groaned, walking beside his parents, glancing around to see where Kal had gone off to. As best man his duty was to see his dad didn't freak out and to keep Kal out of trouble.

“Only a few, then we're having lunch and you are free to do whatever you want, for the day.” Nell instructed. “It won't be that bad. We're taking some photos here, so we don't even have to leave.”

She had opted to do as much as she could at their house, the property allowed for space to set up and still have room to wander off a little. If one didn't want to be directly in the crowd, they were welcome to take a walk around the few paddocks and wander down the small lane.

This was certainly not the lavish and large wedding that one would expect from a well known celebrity. Henry had snorted and groaned when Nell had informed him, a few days ago, that people were speculating about their upcoming wedding. The only people who mattered were those invited, as far as Henry was concerned. They had made a proper announcement about their engagement a few weeks ago, although their family and friends had known days after they had initially discussed it.

“Don't forget, tomorrow morning Bridie and Joe are coming round to take you for the afternoon.” Henry chose now to remind his son of his former Nanny's visit. “And you owe Sophie a dance.”

“I won't forget.” Ivan had been waiting weeks to see his friends from his former life in Ireland. He had marked off the days on a calendar in his room, even. He was excited not only for a party, but to see those he missed and didn't often see with his parents' work schedule.

“And you, Mrs. Cavill.” Henry winked, “Need to be ready by noon, tomorrow.”

“I will be, but I wish you'd tell me where we were going.” Nell pouted.

Henry had set up a four day escape to Rome, since they would be traveling for The Witcher press in a couple of weeks the honeymoon would be short. They had agreed to take Ivan along for the press tour, spending a few weeks together as a family. Between interviews and appearances. Easier said than done. But Henry wanted them with him, it would be nice to retire to a hotel room and have his family.

“Sorry, no can do. But I have things packed for you, Sadie helped me. I will tell you this, you're going to love it.” He kissed the back of her hand.

“Fine,” Nell sighed. “Since you're not going to tell me, shall we go around to the front and find the photographer? Before our mothers come over here.”

More than once, she had spotted their mothers watching, allowing them a few moments alone as husband and wife. Yet, keeping track of time.

“You're right, let's go around.”

The Cavill and Stewart clan were vast. Multiple siblings, spouses, and children. Trying to wrangle everyone, Kal included, into one or two large group photos had been a task. Nell was glad that the photographer was gracious and understanding. Attempting to get that many people in a space and all looking the same direction, succeeding in the second try – miracle or possibly witch craft. Nell wasn't sure, but she was in awe.

Henry's favourite photos would no doubt be the ones of his own little family. The three – four with Kal – of them together, happy and content. Nell sighed and shook her head, when Henry and Ivan went about their usual antics. Nobody else was bound to have a photo of their husband with their son thrown over his shoulder, while their giant dog jumped up trying to get in on the playfulness.

After photos and lunch, as promised, Nell gave Ivan the go ahead to do as he pleased. As long as he didn't retreat to the den and spend all day playing video games with his cousins. He had to still be around, if needed for more wedding activities. Like watching people Ooh and Awe over silly things. Did that many people need to cry over his parents dancing? His dad often looked like a wounded duck, although it never stopped him. Ivan could watch his parents dance to that nauseating Thomas Rhett song any time. His dad said it perfectly described how he felt about his life.

Whatever.  After his dance with Sophie, who he was gaining height on, he disappeared with a couple of Henry's nephews and Kal. As long as they didn't set anything on fire, they were allowed to roam and play on the property.

After a dance or two, Henry and Nell agreed to split ways for the moment. Mingling and enjoying their guests. It would be rude of them not to engage. Taking a little break, Nell stood at the back of the garden, enjoying the last bit of warmth from the day before the cool evening set in. She'd hugged, kissed, and thanked so many people that her head was beginning to swim a little.

“Has anyone told you that you look an absolute vision,” Nell's older sister, Sadie, approached extending her arms and embracing her little sister, kissing her cheek.

“I have heard that a time or two, but I think they were only saying it to be polite.” Nell winked and laughed. Gently fanning herself with her hand, it was far from warm outside, but the commotion was enough to make anyone sweat a little. Fanning herself, she blew out a breath, her cheeks hurting from all of the smiling. How could she not? If there was ever a day to walk around with a perma-smile, it was today.

“Let me guess, Hen can't stop complimenting you.” Sadie teased.

“He's said it a few times, too.” Winking, Nell beamed.

“You know, Nelly,  I'm just happy that you are happy. Cliche, yes, but as your big sister that is my job.” Squeezing her sister's hand, Sadie smiled fondly “It hasn't been easy, but what good romance is?”

“Looking back, I think we had to grow and excuse the corny, if it's yours then you need to let it go.” Nell shrugged, stealing a quick glance at Henry across the garden. Standing with one of their guests, chatting happily. “Had we not been apart, I don't think I would have realized or appreciated how much I need him. Or how much I love him.”

Henry had asked her to marry him several times in the past, getting shot down each and every one. Looking back, had she agreed, surely they would have been facing divorce by now. At the very least angry and bitter with one another, trapped in a loveless marriage with kids they resented as much as they did one another.

Life worked out for a reason.

“Sweetie,” Sadie hugged her sister, holding her tightly. “I'm so glad this worked out, because honestly, I can't think of anyone better for you. He loves you, so much.”

Hugging her sister tightly, Nell sniffled, trying to hold back another flood of emotions. Thankful, when she heard Henry gently clearing his throat, asking to steal his bride away for a moment. Hugging him as tightly as she did Nell; Sadie smiled waving them along.

“So, Mr. Cavill, what's the urgent task?” Nell linked her arm in his, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Don't be mad,” Henry smirked, glancing around, nobody seemed to notice them escaping. “I wanted to have a moment with my wife, nobody else around.” He chuckled when Nell looked up, she'd been following his footsteps allowing him to lead her.

Around the other side of the garden, she giggled and hugged his arm tightly. “You rascal. Leading me astray, well I'll be.” She joked.

“I love you,” He whispered, kissing her temple.

“I love you, too.” Nell smiled, leaning into him. “So, this is it huh? Married life?”

“It looks like,” Henry beamed.

“I'm glad you accepted my proposal. Despite how awkward it was.”

“I would have been crazy not to, my darling.” Kissing her softly, Henry sighed happily. “I feel as though we've barely seen one another today. Would it be rude to say good night and sneak upstairs?”

An advantage and disadvantage to spending their wedding night at home. They could call it an evening anytime they wanted, but then it felt forced and rude. As if demanding guests to leave, which is not what they had intended. Nell had made it very clear that she wanted people to stay and enjoy, having car service to take people wherever they needed to go after.

“It's only 7pm.” Nell smiled, leaning into Henry, shivering slightly. “Do you really want to go in?”

Smiling mischievously, Henry wrinkled his nose. “Maybe? Is it wrong that this is our wedding night, but all I can think about is going to bed and snuggling with you?”

“Snuggling?”

“Among doing other things.”

“Ah, yes. Of course.” Glancing around, Nell furrowed her brow. A few spots had fresh dirt and Kal tracks. “Have you seen Kal lately?”

“He was with mum and Simon.”

“Hmm, well before we do anything tomorrow. We need to fix these flower beds. Someone found another squirrel it seems.”

Laughing, Henry looked at Nell for a moment, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “You are something else, my darling wife.”

“What? The dog tore apart my garden, I can't leave here with them looking like...”

“Nell, we can worry about that tomorrow. I can have Ivan and dad fix them, if you want. Or we can hire someone. I can't allow you to spend the morning of your honeymoon gardening. Which, by the way, I think we should discuss.”

“That top secret honeymoon? Are you going to tell me where we're going?”

Henry shook his head. “No, but I will tell you that it's been a while since we've been there, together,” Nell frowned. That could be just about anywhere. “We land and check in, then I have dinner reservations. The next morning, late morning, because I intend to keep you in the room as long as possible.” He bit hit bottom lip, “I have made us a booking for a couple's massages and then...”

“You have this all planned don't you?” Henry nodded, Nell winked, “what if I don't want a massage? What if I want to stay in our hotel the entire time and...”

“But we did that last time, this time...” Henry paused, eyes wide. Shit.

“Are you taking me to Rome?”

“I didn't say that.”

“You didn't have to. I think you gave it away pretty well. The only other place we've stayed in a hotel the entire time was the second trip to Jersey. Unless we're honeymooning in Jersey. Which if we are, I am fine with that, but Rome? Oh my god, Henry! Ugh, I love you! I love you. I love you! That is the perfect honeymoon.” Nell bounced eagerly, and she wondered where Ivan got it.

“I suppose you would have found out at the airport, anyway.” He teased, “So? You really like it?”

“Oh my god, of course! Henry! This is amazing. I could not have picked a better place.” She flung her arms around his neck, kissing him softly. “You are a fantastic husband. Have I told you that, today?”

“I don't know that I am as fantastic as my wife, but I certainly try.”

Take Us Home – Alan Doyle, is the song I had in mind for Nell’s entrance 

Blessed - Thomas Rhett is their first dance 

[multiverseoflokis]

Monster (gen!Loki)

Pairing : none/ gen!Loki

Genre : hurt/angst/songfic

Warnings : Mentions of torture, Odin being a bitch and everything you get as package deal with Loki.

A.N : again, originaly posted on quotev.com. Yhe song used here is 'Monster' by Imagine Dragons.

——— [ ☆ ] ———

" Ever since I could remember Everything inside of me Just wanted to fit in "

A young, raven haired boy sat by the stream, back against a large tree with a book on his lap. His green eyes traveled over to the group of people playfully fighting. 'Silly oafs', he scoffed. Obviously he couldn't be bothered to go over to his brother and play with his friends. They'd only tease him for being small, short and weak. 'Who needs friends when I have this book?" Surely his book about ancient magic was far more interesting than a game of tug-of-war, right?

" I was never one for pretenders Everything I tried to be Just wouldn't settle in "

As Loki grew into a teenager, he felt that no matter what he did, he'd always be second to Thor in his fathers eyes. So, he did everything he could to prove his worth. He always had been rather close to Frigga and decided to take her help in impressing the All-Father. Day and night he trained with her, mastering spell after spell, to prove himself. It broke her heart to watch him exert himself for his father. Frigga repeatedly reminded him that he was perfect in every way and didn't need to prove himself, he could be himself around her. But Loki was adamant.

One day, Frigga taught him to perform a particularly tricky spell. The spell, when cast properly, could speed up the growing process of a plant, allowing a bud to bloom into a flower. Loki felt that this could be something that Odin would love to see. He practiced it relentlessly, not wanting to mess up in front of Odin.

One fine evening, when she felt that he had mastered the spell, Frigga invited Odin over to the garden to exhibit Loki's progress. Upon hearing that Loki would be performing a magic trick, Thor, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three also gathered into the palace garden. Fighting the jitters, Loki stepped to the tiny plant he had planted and extended his hand, green wisps of magic curling around the plant. The plant grew taller and sprouted a bud. Thinking that he was doing good, Loki channeled more magic into the plant to make it bloom. The bud slowly opened up to reveal a pretty yellow flower. Odin felt a bit proud at the sight and let a small smile grace his face. Momentarily. For, as soon as the flower bloomed, Loki lost control of his magic and the flower wilted, leaving behind its black remains, infecting the entire section of carnations. Frigga had to intervene before the entire garden wilted. Odin stared the young prince, disappointment evident in his eye as walked away.

Loki felt the horrified stares of Thor and his friends. He could deal with those oafs later. What mattered the most at that point was, What did mother think? Was she also disappointed that I was not Thor?

" If I told you what I was Would you turn your back on me? And if I seem dangerous Would you be scared? "

At the time of Thor's coronation, Loki felt absolutely broken. He had been lied to about everything. He felt betrayed, hurt, lost and alone. His world was crashing around him. Touching the casket revealed his past and his true heritage. A heritage which confirmed that he was nothing more than garbage. Staring at the blue skin on his arms, he felt absolutely disgusted in himself.

He was furious that he had been used. That, Odin very well knew he would never surmount to be even half as hood aa Thor and yet fed him false hope. Hope that Loki could someday be Thor's equal in his eye. Odin knew Loki would never be able to be a King. After all, how could a monster be allowed to be at the helm of the nine realms?

He vowed to bring Asguard to its knees, before him, where they rightfully belonged. He wanted to let chaos run wild in the streets of the place he once dared call home.

Asguard was taught that the Jötunns were the devils who waged war. They were the monsters who killed young Asgardians. Looking at his icy blue skin, he though, 'This is the real me. A worthless vermin, whose only purpose in life is to be the bad guy. Odin was right after all. Maybe if I became the monster the people rumored me to be, Id be deemed worthy of the throne at last.'

" I get the feeling just because Everything I touch isn't dark enough If this problem lies in me

I'm only a man with a candle to guide me I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me A monster, a monster I've turned into a monster A monster, a monster And it keeps getting stronger "

In all his life, all Loki wanted was to be Thor's equal. To be called 'Loki — God of Mischief' not 'Loki — brother of Thor'. He'd do anything to prove himself, but never hurt innocent people. He never truly wanted the throne either, he would've rather been an advisor to Thor, and be beside him as he rules Asgard. In reality, all he wanted was recognition. The Fates granted him his wish in the most cruel way possible.

When he fell into the Void and was captured by Thanos, he initially wished he could go back in time. To Asgard, and stay in his mothers arms. He wished he could take it all back. But as Thanos and the Black Order broke him over and over again, until he had no other choice than to comply to their orders, he wished for death.

Waging war on a Midgard was not something he wanted to do. Ever. But under his control, every last bit of rage he had on Asgard was taken out on that realm. If not for a resilient group of humans, he would have been successful in his endeavour. He would've been a monster he was bred to be.

When the green creature, Hulk, smashed him into the floor of Stark Towers, the harsh blow made Thanos lose momentary control over Loki.

When he turned around, faraway, he saw a woman cradling a limp body, a baby, in her arms.

Maybe he truly was a monster afterall.

" I'm only a man with a candle to guide me I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me A monster, a monster I've turned into a monster A monster, a monster And it keeps getting stronger "

( not my gifs )

[penguinofawesomenessworld]

Crazier things have happened!

I can't stop thinking about Prodigy s2; it is everything to me