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kalstar · 3 years

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What my Genshin Team members would say about each other

Featuring Jean, Bennett, Chongyun, and Xiao

A/N: This is basically what I think they would say about each other in those "about ___" voice lines in the game. The setting is you the traveler, have put Jean, Bennet, Chongyun, and Xiao in one team. This is what they think about each other after a couple months of fighting and adventuring alongside each other. Is this where I slowly turn into a writing blog?

Tw: mentions of death (?) (no one dies it's just Xiao being mean)

Word count: 2.3k

Story (?) under the cut

Jean

About Bennett

"Bennett? I think he's very charismatic. I hear that he goes on adventures on his own, it must be hard dealing with everything by yourself; he seems like a very independent individual. I think he would make a great member of the Knights of Favonius in the future if he so chooses.

I very much admire his perseverance and positivity. Even when we were faced with near-death experiences, he could still laugh and brush it off as if it was nothing. He always manages to cheer everyone up. It's great having someone like him to boost our morale on the team.

I've heard a little bit about his past from the Adventurer's Guild… How he was found as a baby barely holding on to life… without having any real parents and that extremely bad luck of his, I truly hope that we're able to at least bring him a bit of comfort. I should check up on the Adventurer's Guild every once in a while... "

About Chongyun

"Hm, Chongyun is quite the strange one. At first, I was always so confused on why he always stayed in the shade and it really concerned me how much ice cream he was eating at a time… but then he told me about his congenital positivity and it made a bit more sense. It's strange how this condition of his works, I've never heard anything like that in Mondstadt before. I wonder if we can find a cure for it.

He seems to be very invested in his training as a martial artist and as an exorcist. He's constantly pushing himself to be better and learning how to control his condition. He always asks me about how to train or how to be stronger. I hear he's already the best exorcist in Liyue, I can only imagine the heights he can reach as he continues to grow.

Chongyun reminds me a lot of myself when I was younger. I was very focused on my training and kept pushing myself to the limit. It's quite nostalgic to see that side of me living through someone else. I hope that he can achieve his goals in the future, I think he very much deserves it."

About Xiao

" I thank you, traveler, for giving me the opportunity to fight alongside someone as powerful as Adeptus Xiao. It truly is an honor to be working with him. I never thought I would live long enough to see gods of another region, but you've made that possible. I am in your debt.

Adeptus Xiao is truly one of the strongest fighters I've ever seen. I've only heard stories about the power of Adepti, but to see it with your own eyes is truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience. The way he gracefully moves on the battlefield with seemingly little effort is truly inspiring.

When the other boys are asleep, we often have long conversations over the fire. We would talk about our troubles and worries over the campfire, hearing the wisdom of someone as wise as him, it brought a bit of comfort. There is a lot about Adeptus Xiao that I don't know, especially about this "karmic debt", but I hope that we'll be able to help him get through it."

Bennett

About Jean

“It’s really awesome that I get to fight with someone as cool as Master Jean, and it’s all thanks to you traveler! I always travel alone, so to think that I can go on adventures with someone as amazing as her, maybe I’m not so unlucky after all! I hope my bad luck doesn’t get in the way of our adventures though hehe.

Don’t tell anyone, but I always try my best to impress Master Jean hehe. I always put out my best effort whenever she’s around, not that I don’t usually, but you get what I mean right? I make sure to hit the enemies harder and my fire burns longer! I know it’s silly but if I impress her, do you think she’d let the Adventurers Guild team up with the Knights of Favonius?

She can be a bit intimidating with how strict she can seem sometimes but she cares about everyone a lot! She always makes sure that everyone is doing alright and if they ever need anything. She's taught me about a lot of things, like how to better treat my wounds, what plants are safe for eating, and how to better hit weak spots of enemies. She's just so cool!"

About Chongyun

"Chongyun? I think he's super cool and strong!! Do you see how big his claymore is?? How can he just swing it around so quickly AND he can summon even more swords from the sky! Man, I wish I could do that, maybe more people would want to join my adventure team. I should train with him and ask for tips.

Both Chongyun and I can't eat spicy foods and Chongyun can't even eat anything warm, so we try to be careful of what we eat. Though there has been a couple of times where his condition, I think it's called "Congenital Positivity", started acting up after we ate something hot in Liyue. He acted all hyper and energetic, it's like he was drunk or something. Thankfully I could give him a popsicle before Adpetus Xiao could throw him in a cold river.

Since Chongyun is the best exorcist in Liyue, I asked him if he could get rid of my bad luck with his cool exorcist powers. He used these blue talismans and made a summoning circle thing with his hands, it was so awesome! I think it worked! For like… an hour… but it was still really cool!"

About Xiao

"To be honest, I was really scared of Adeptus Xiao at first... He looks like he could kill me just by his sharp stares! It sends shivers down my spine sometimes... I didn't know much about legends in Liyue since I never really travel far from Mondstadt, but after fighting with him for a while, I can see that he's definitely really strong; he's probably the strongest person I know!

Sometimes I find him looking really sad and when I get the courage to ask him what's wrong he always says that it's none of my concern... I've overheard a few of your conversations with him, something to do with "Karmic Debt" and his burden to carry or something? I don't know much about Adeptus Xiao's past but I wish he would stop being so hard on himself...

Whenever we rest after a really hard fight, I always offer to heal up his wounds. I know what it’s like to get hurt a lot of the time, so I try my best to help patch him up. He wouldn’t let me treat his wounds at first, but over time he warmed up to me and I make sure he always feels better by the end of it!"

Chongyun

About Jean

"It's an honor to be fighting alongside someone as important as Master Jean, I wouldn't have this chance if it wasn't for you traveler, I don't know how I could ever repay you! I don't know much about Mondstadt but it's very interesting to learn more about the areas of the world, maybe our exorcist services could reach their people someday as well.

The first time I saw Master Jean fight on the battlefield I was truly starstruck. She was able to control her movements so well while also supporting all of us; it was amazing! I also heard that she was able to take down five ruin guards on her own, she must train very hard every day to be able to do that...

Being able to meet and fight with Master Jean has been a motivating experience. I hope I can learn much more from her and maybe become as skilled and strong as her one day. She's quickly become a role model for me and I highly respect and admire her. Again, thank you very much for this opportunity traveler!

About Bennett

"Ah, Bennett? I think it's really nice having someone my age on the team that I can easily talk to. Sometimes we exchange stories and legends from our hometowns. I'm glad I get to share more of Liyue with other people and it's also very fascinating to listen to the stories of Mondstadt. It just shows how diverse Teyvat can really be.

Bennett's passion can be a bit much sometimes so I need to keep my distance... I hope he doesn't notice, I know many people tend to avoid him because of his bad luck but I hope he doesn't think of me like that. I just... don't want to embarrass myself in front of everyone ahaha...

Bennett says that ever since we started adventuring together his bad luck has decreased. He thinks that I bring him more good luck and that I’m his “good luck charm”, I think that might just be placebo, but I appreciate the sentiment. Maybe one day it would be possible to exorcise one's bad luck. He would definitely be the first I test it on if I ever figure it out."

About Xiao

"To be honest, I wasn't very pleased when I found out he was on our team. Of course, I have the utmost respect for him, my family and the Adepti have been exorcising evil for generations, but his demeanor isn't one that I'm particularly fond of... But, after spending more time with him, I realize that we have more in common than I thought.

Though Adeptus Xiao is definitely a very skilled and powerful warrior, he can be a bit... strange... We were in Dragonspine one day and I saw him try to eat the snow. I gave him one of my popsicles instead and he looked so confused. He seemed to enjoy it but I guess there are even some things that Adepti don’t know about.

I've gotten to know him a bit more and though there are still many secrets that he holds, I realize that he just wants to protect Liyue like the rest of the exorcists. He seems to face his own struggles and demons as well, whenever he looks more down than usual, I offer him some of my Qingxin infused water and it seems to calm him down a bit. I'm glad that I can at least help him a little bit in any way that I can."

Xiao

About Jean

"At first I thought she was just any other human, but you told me she was the leader of the people of Mondstadt, I quickly realized there was more to her than meets the eye. She's a very skilled fighter on the battlefield, it's impressive to see a human fight with such strength and skill. I've only ever seen that kind of power from you, traveler.

The people of Mondstadt are very lucky to have someone like her to lead them. She can work well with just about anyone. She was brave enough to ask me to spar with her at one point. I assumed she had a death wish but she can carry herself very well and never holds back.

Often times she asks me for advice about a lot of different things. I keep telling her that I'm not a teacher nor a fountain of wisdom, just an Adeptus. Though from what I can see, she seems to be stressed over a lot of the little things that go on in Mondstadt, if this keeps up she’ll burn herself out."

About Bennett

"That Bennett... he can be very overbearing. How can a human be so happy when their life has only been filled with turmoil. It confuses me and I can never understand what sort of tricks he's trying to pull on me... He has such a passion for adventuring but knowing his luck he's going to get himself killed at some point...

Honestly, I pity him. No one dares to go on adventures with him anymore, why hasn't he given up and moved on to something else? You humans are always so confusing. You find it admirable, I think it's just asinine. Though... I guess he is quite a skilled adventurer, it would be ignorant of me to not acknowledge his skills on and off the battlefield.

It annoys me that he can just live without a care in the world. How can one have such bad luck? He’s just… always one step away from death. How has a mortal survived for this long when the archons hate him so much. It truly irritates me how reckless he can be and leaves me to save him at the last second..."

About Chongyun

"It brings me a bit of peace of mind to know that there is another person from Liyue with us. I don't feel... as much of an outcast... I hear that he's from a family of exorcists. I've never paid much mind to the affairs of humans, though because we share similair duties, it was unavoidable that I would cross paths with them at some point.

I must admit that it's fascinating how he exorcises demons. While I exorcise demons and monsters with my spear, he seems to exorcise evil spirits... just by being present... I never knew that such things were possible. I hear it was because of his congenital positivity, I think it's an impressive skill, though he seems to treat it as a curse of his own.

It’s strange, whenever Chongyun is around their screams and cries don’t sound as loud as they usually would be. It’s as if all my years of karmic debt and demons within slowly fade away into nothingness. Maybe it's the cooling aura that he always carries with him or the Qingxins he brings back. I wonder if he actually has anything to do with it."

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fanfiction-funtime · 3 years

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Alexander Vodka lines

I did most of the characters, but some I don't know or genuinely can't think of anything. Hope this is good >-<

Hello: Hey there, your that Traveler fella ain’t ya? Hope I don't owe you copyrights for the name. Hm? I don’t? Well then, what can I help ya with?

Adventures? Sure why not, I could use the inspiration.

Two names: You’re curious why I have two names? Well it's sort of a thing in Snezhnaya that officers and other high ranking people have two names, like how harbingers do. Since I’m a high ranking member of the Schneznayan authors association, well former member, I have the name “Eis Cay’zar” meaning “ice ruler”. And Alexander Vodka is a pen name. Hm? What's my resistance name and real one? Well now Traveler, a man must have some secrets.

Change of tone: Ah yes, people often find the way I change from more eloquent speech to more casual off putting. Well it's the same reason I wear two sets of clothes: sometimes I feel like looking like an old noir hero, other times I like looking like a new age caped crusader. Sometimes I like sounding high society, other times I enjoy sounding like I’m from Khaen’ria.

How do you know about Khaen’ria: Well I was looking for accents and found out about a place called “New York” or something, a bit of investigation and I discovered everything. My source? That's a secret, ehe.

Good morning: Mornin’ Traveler! What's in the mornin’ paper?

Noon: Lunch time, my favourite time of the day. Let’s go get some pizza, I’m famished!

Afternoon: Almost time to punch out, let's go knock some skulls first.

Night: *yawn* Today was fun, thanks buddy. Get some shut eye, or if you can't come meet me at (wanmin/angels share/the tea house), first rounds on me!

When it rains: I am so glad I got over my fear of contacts.

When it rains(with glasses outfit): Hey can we get under something? I can barely see!

When it stops raining: The smell that comes after rain has always been one of my favorites.

When it snows: Perfect weather to bundle up with a nice hot cup of hot chocolate!

When it stops snowing: Do you ever miss home, Traveler?

About freedom: I warned Barbados, you know that? I knew that as long as he saw it coming, Signora wouldn’t stand a chance. But he just looked at me and said, “good, when I’m gone mondstadt will be truly free of the gods”. That’s a man I’d follow to the depths of the abyss and back.

About Venti: Speaking of Barbados, he’s a great drinking buddy. Me and him knock back a couple hundred rounds whenever I’m in Mondstadt! Course I’m always paying the tab, but I consider it a way of repaying him for making songs about my books.

About Kaeya: The cavalry captain? He’s pretty cool if you ask me, modeled as Rex Mondoleon for the cover of a historical fiction book I made. But I’d still like to know what he’s hiding behind that smile.

About Diluc: Don’t tell him I told you this, but one time I found Diluc after he was hit by an abyss spell that made him drunk. While he was drunk he kept ranting about how sorry he is for kicking out his brother. The poor guy has all that forgiveness in him but he’s too afraid to let it out.

About Jean: The acting grandmaster of the knights is someone truly deserving of respect. She leads by being a good person and earning the respect of her people, and she has never once tried to cover up the mistakes of the knights. In fact if a knight makes a mistake she’ll rush out to fix it. Jean should be the grandmaster, not that crooked old bastard.

About Lisa: Lisa was my first friend in Mondstadt. She mailed me about getting copies of my books into the Mondstadt library, I said I’d do a signing to promote a new one, one thing led to another and now we have tea every ninth day of the month.

About Rosaria: Don’t tell anyone, but I’m very sure she’s a vampire. A nice one, but still.

About Barbara: Awe that little doll? I once saw her kill multiple fatui because they threatened some sick and injured travelers. So I think she’s a great person, takes compassion to save lives and guts to handle taking them as well.

About Bennett: Bennett? Yeah I know him, nice kid. He likes my books but kept breaking them, so now I make special enchanted ones so he can’t break them even if he tried.

About Razor: The guardian of wolvendom? He’s a weird one alright, but he’s not a bad guy. I taught him how to read and write.

About Fischl: That crazy kid? I don’t care what everyone else says, she’s nice. People need to learn to just leave people alone, she’s not hurting anyone with her persona.

About Noelle: You will never find someone more dedicated too...well anything than Noelle is too the knights and her training.

About Klee: Klee and I are great friends! Nothing is more stimulating than massive explosions!

About Amber: She always has interesting stories to tell, like one time where she got rid of some bandits by making a dummy merchant cart filled with explosives! Or the time she had to help a kid get her pet giant snake out from the cathedral!

About Zhongli: Heh, he thinks he’s slick, but I know he’s Rex Lapis. Gotta say I kinda hate him for just giving up his gnosis, however he did it to free his people so I can’t be mad.

About Ninnguang: Never much cared for economics because I don’t know much about ‘em, so I can’t say anything about her business sense. But I can say that she’s a great leader who puts her people first.

About Keqing: Haven’t talked to her enough to know much, but she’s dedicated to her people and that's enough for me. Her dislike of blind faith in the gods is definitely enough to make me want to get to know her better though.

About Qiqi: Qiqi’s a nice kid, I don’t care what anyone says her being a zombie doesn’t make her bad.

About Baizhu: Snake man? Nice guy, helps me be accurate in my books. Always worry about him though, one hot breeze and he’s out like a light.

About Xingqiu: Xingqiu always tries to hide his good deeds, and while I can respect anonymity I can’t let a hero go unsung. So I’ve written multiple short stories about him using a different name, and put in the beginnings that it’s based on a true story.

About Chongyun: His popsicles are great inventions, I’ve played around with the idea a bit and made flavored ones. So far I’ve got strawberry and grape down and am working on this weird fruit called a..Banananana? I think?

About Beidou: Captain Beidou is so cool! She tells me stories about her journeys out to see and I write about them, but after seeing her in action I can’t really say that I do her justice.

About Kazuha: Kazuha has suffered so much, yet he refuses to give up and curl up away from the world when he so easily could. I have immense respect for him.

About Xianling: You’d be surprised at how good slime and boar tusk can be.

About Xiao: I’ve written down many myths and legends of the yaksha, but sadly I've never seen him in person.

About Verr Goldet: Oh she’s great company! Good business sense, and always polite.

About Gorou: Many people rightly attribute the Resistance’s survival and victories to general Kokomi, but it’s wrong to say general Gorou isn’t a brilliant strategist. He knows how to rally his men against impossible odds, and how to keep them standing against them. I’d follow general Gorou into battle any day.

About Ayaka: Ayaka seems so lonely, I hope when this is all done she can have some form of social life.

About Thoma: Thoma’s as cool as he seems. He always has a level head, and solves problems smoothly and without issues.

About Yoimia: KABOOOM!

About Kokomi: One time I was doing an interview of her excellency, to boost morale and draw new members. I intended on asking for her autograph, only for her to ask for mine! I’ve been riding that high for a while now and still ain’t come down.

About Signora: I hate fatui, but without that she has some good qualities: most of her power is her own unlike most other harbingers, and she’s a sharp dresser. Plus she’s actually justified in her choice to join the fatui, not excused, but isolation can justify many crimes in my book. But no matter what I can’t forgive her. She attacked my friend without a chance for him to fight back, and was unfairly cruel. Nothing can justify that, and I will not forgive her as long as she remains unapologetic for her cowardly cruelty.

About Childe: Fatui are scum, but Childe’s probably the best of them: he personally tries to keep civilians and the weak out of fatui business, and he’s only in it to make sure his family lives well. He also is powerful on his own, but most of his strength is the Tsaritsa’s well deserved gifts. Still though, he’s just a single stressful day from losing all his morals. I can’t leave the fate of my homeland to a madman like him, not unless he gets therapy.

About Scaramouche: Scaramouche...that bastard, it’s been five years and he still owes me 30,061 mora.

About the Fatui: The fatui are really just people who are lost or genuinely believe they’re in the right, and while I can sympathize and respect many of them I can't agree nor can I just stand by and watch. The grunts usually aren’t that bad, honestly they’re more like underpaid graduates new to the workforce, but the fighters you see daily? Almost all of them are scum no better than raiders, and debt collectors are the worst of them because they’ll do anything they can to scam you out of everything in their contracts.

About us-commissions: You know, if you’d like to commission a biography it’s 100 mora per ten pages.

About us-inspiration: You’re a font of inspiration for me, ya know that?

About us-fellow rebels: I’ve been with ya enough to know that this path you’re on, the one to find your sis/bro, you’re fighting against something far beyond my ability to deal with. I won’t abandon you, I’ll be here every step of the way.

About us-friends: We’ve been through a lot pal, I’m glad to call you my friend. Please, call me my rebel name: it’s Belgrade, named after the city where some very brave men took their last stand against oppression.

Hobbies: Well you have reading and writing, otherwise? Can't think of anything.

Favorite food: Grilled tiger fish, come get it while it’s hot!

Least favorite food: I really wanna try it, but I can’t have almond tofu. Or any nuts. Closes my throat right up.

Something to share: Hehe, I got embarrassing dirt on all the harbingers. Signora? She has a Tsaritsa body pillow. Scaramouche? He knits sweaters for his pet pig, cute but he hates letting people know. And Childe? Hoo man, the pics I’ve got on him have put a pretty mora on my head.

About me: Hey have you seen my dice? I wanted to teach the mondstadt kids how to play them...hm? What?! No, not gambling! It’s, uh, a tad embarrassing...h-hey look! Literally anything else, let's pay attention to it!

About me II: Alright! These rolls are great, can’t wait to use them next game. I’m so proud of Fischl, so young yet so imaginative. She’s already-ah! T-traveler! What are you doing?..

You know I’m the one meant to be learning the secrets here.

About me III: Back in Snezhnaya, everyone looks down on things that don’t “conform” where even the most rigid of nations like Inazuma have stopped caring. Adults can't play games, men can’t wear dresses, can’t even have a “weird” sense of humor. No laws against it, but being outcasted is...it’s not good…

About me IV: I wish I grew up in Mondstadt. The kids there are so free to be themselves, and the adults aren’t pressured to be nothing more than working hands. It’s not perfect, after all people are rude to Fischl and Benny for being “different”, but it’s better that’s for sure.

About me V: Hey traveler...this is...no it’s not embarrassing. You’re my friend and I have no reason to be embarrassed by wanting to enjoy time with you! Fischl’s going to run a pen and paper dice game, ever played one? It’s super fun, you get to be anything you want really, and it’s a great way to bond.

You will? Great! I’ll help you make a character!

Alexander’s troubles: It’s so hard to find publishers these days. Noone wants an actual plot, they just want twist after twist. What’s up with that?! Shock value is no substitute for characters you love living fulfilling lives.

Happy birthday: Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday you crazy bastard, happy birthday to you! Seriously pal, you put yourself in harm's way every day it seems, we literally met when you were fighting an actual god! Actually, know what? No danger all day! We’re wrapping ourselves in blankets and just relaxing!

Feelings about ascension-intro: woah, somethin’ feels different. I like it!

Feelings about ascension-building up: man, I’m feeling inspired all of a sudden! Hey traveller, give me a prompt!

Feelings about ascension-climax: HA! I don’t know what high I’m riding but I like it, I just finished writing a whole book series!

Feelings about ascension-conclusion: WOO! YEAH! ULRICH MIKAEL KEEPS WINNIN’!-I-I meant Alexand-ah forget it, I’m feelin’ too good to care!

OCs:

About Louis: That crazy inventor guy from Fontaine? I heard he got used by the fatui, damn shame that. Noone deserves to have their heart played with like that.

About Spritefather: You ever heard of Spritefather? I’ve only heard legends, but the fanmail I keep getting tells me that sometimes things are only legendary until someone writes them down.

About the Storytraveler: There’s this woman who travels from universe to universe to fix things, she’s in Teyvat right now. You should meet her, really nice person. But her powers are a bit weird, why does she transform like that? It takes so much time!

_____________________

Tagging: @love-psxlm, @storytravelled, @genshin-obsessed, @golden-wingseos

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin oc

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dearlazerbunny · 5 years

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Lie to Me (Ch. 14 of 28)

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Genre/Ratings: M eventually (aiming for a slow burn here); warnings for kidnapping and subsequent anxiety/PTSD (will be marked before every chapter)

Words: 2,700

Summary: If you had to guess what the captured, traitor, trickster god Loki Laufeyson wanted or needed at this moment, a babysitter would be far, far down on the list. (Set after the events of Avengers 1.)

SHOUTOUT TO @molmcb and @jessiejunebug, who are now happily living in my closet amongst my cosplays and stuffed animals

Requested Tags: @deraniel, @iamverity, @yasnooshka24, @wegingerangelica, @themusingsofmany, @dark-night-sky-99, @tarynkauai, @stuffandstuff-stuff, @angelicshinigami, @my-current-fandom-is, @geekysimmerthings

Another vague email, another secret meeting. Par for the course you suppose. You brace yourself to walk into another room full of superheroes, but thankfully when you push open the door there’s just two relatively standard-stock agents in black suits, albeit with incredibly stony faces. The man gestures for you to sit, and you do so at the head of the table, so the pair are flanking you on either side.

“Hello.” You set your stuff down. “Can I help you?”

The female on your right, wearing her hair in a severe bun, raises a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you. “Do you know why you’re here, agent?”

“No, you guys didn’t exactly put it in the subject line,” you joke, but are met with nothing but glares. Yikes. Tough crowd. “Am I… did I do something?”

“Not precisely.” The man sitting on your left hand side pulls out a few unassuming folders and sets them across from you. “My name is Sitwell. We recently received a few… interesting reports, from Agent Barton.”

Oh, crap. This can’t be good. “I see. What about?”

“How long have you been assigned to Loki, Y/N?”

“Um-” you count back the months in your mind. “It’s been a while. Eight months? Nine?”

“And what would you say your relationship to the prisoner is?”

You can’t help but wince a little at how he says the word prisoner. “Friendly, I guess. I mean, you talk to someone every day for almost a year, you get used to them, I suppose.”

The man- Sitwell- nods. “Agent Barton expressed similar sentiments. While it appears your assignment has been going smoothly, there have been concerns regarding your ability to maintain… neutrality.”

You bristle. “What does that mean?”

He slides a folder towards you, flipping it open. “You were in D.C. for the Incident, correct?” You nod. “I’d like for you to take a look at some photos.”

The first photo, in horrifically excellent quality, is a skyscraper crumpled to ruin, its steel bones twisted and mangled into a fatal position. The street before it is upended, with concrete shattered everywhere.

You know what these pictures are from. You’ve seen the news. The city workers pushing rubble from one place to the next. The memorial reels commemorating the funerals of those caught in the crossfire that day.

Despite trying to brace yourself, your stomach twists at the images of carnage marring New York’s proudest city. You aren’t heartless, you can imagine the anxiety that permeates the alleyways. Once, it was the city that never sleeps. Then someone finally put its lights out.

“If you’ll flip to the last photo, please.” A picture of an incredibly unassuming man greets you. Receding hairline, watery blue eyes, same professional yet nondescript suit everyone wears around SHIELD. You squint at the headshot. His tie has a subtle design on it- do they really make neckties with Captain America’s shield on it?

Apparently you asked that last question out loud, because Sitwell gives you what you assume is the closest you’ll get to a smile from him. “They do, though I believe he had this one specially made.” He sobers. “Did you know Phil Coulson, agent?”

Oh. So this is the agent everyone’s had on the tip of their tongue. Apparently he was a legend around here- Fury’s right-hand man, both the Black Widow and Hawkeye’s handler, not to mention all the fantastical rumors of his own exploits. It’s something of an initiation process, scaring the interns with stories of how he battled his way out of a secret underground HYDRA base and escaped the Amazon with nothing but a Dasani water bottle and a popsicle stick. “No. I mean, I know of him. Everyone does. But he was gone before I transferred.”

Sitwell nods. “Phil Coulson was a very special man. Unfailing loyalty, a sharp eye, and a knack for keeping us all out of trouble.” He pauses. “He was one of my best friends.” You’d known that even before he had told you, just based on the admiration and grief in the agent’s voice. “He was also one of the most personal tragedies to result from the Manhattan Crisis.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” He nods elegantly, graciously. “There are, of course, dozens of other agents who ended up in the crossfire. Not to mention the civilian count.”

“Why are you showing me this?” You ask tiredly, even though you already know the answer.

“We thought it prudent to remind you who we have in that cell, and why.” The folder is closed; the pictures of a devastated city fade back into history. “Loki Laufeyson is not your friend, agent Y/L/N, nor is he someone to be reformed, rehabilitated, or empathized with.” His words are crisp and incredibly cold; hailstones biting at your cheeks in December. “He is an inter-dimensional war criminal with hundreds of innocent lives hanging over his head. He is a murderer, a manipulator, and a liar. He speared Coulson through the chest and left him to bleed out on the floor. Do not forget that,” he adds gently.

You open your mouth to say- something. To defend him, or yourself, or both. But nothing comes. Sitwell and his friend rise from their seats and tuck cream folders neatly under their arms. “Thank you for your time, agent.” When the door closes behind them, you’re still sitting blankly, imagining Phil Coulson staring blankly at you with just a hint of a smile in his blue eyes.

XXX

“Copper for your thoughts, darling?”

You smile wearily at Loki, head propped on your hand. “It’d be a waste of a penny; I’m not thinking anything in particular.”

“Mmm, I do not believe so. It’d be nothing compared to your attention. But beyond that, something is clearly wrong.” He gestures to you, at your shoulders that are clearly slumped and your fingers twisting anxiously. “Tell me about it?”

You sigh and force yourself to stop fidgeting. “I was called into a meeting. It wasn’t very fun.”

He hums noncommittally, clearly waiting for you to elaborate.

Everything in you hesitates. You don’t want to go there. You really don’t. In the beginning, you told yourself you wouldn’t because it wasn’t your job; later, it didn’t really seem to matter. But if you’re being honest, it’s been digging at the back of your brain for a while now. Every so often you’d be laughing with him and then suddenly stop and think to yourself, this is the man who tried to take over the world. Loki is a tricky, temperamental bastard with a lot of issues, but world domination always seemed a bit… much? You can’t reconcile the carnage downtown with the man sitting across from you. And yet…

“Promise you won’t get mad?”

Loki tilts his head, worried. “I suppose. Is everything alright?”

“… why’d you do it?”

He doesn’t ask what you’re referring to.

For a minute the both of you just look at each other. Your gaze isn’t accusatory, it isn’t angry or demanding- simply confused, and a little sad. Loki, similarity, doesn’t react with heat or deflection or any of his hundreds of other tools of the trade. He looks sad, too, and considers you with a heaviness that’s tangible all the way across the room. “You don’t have to say anything. I just-” you drop head in your hands, as though it’s suddenly too much to hold it up. “If I’m being honest, I’ve been trying to wrap my brain around it for a long time. And then they showed me these pictures, and I guess an agent you, um… stabbed… and it- doesn’t make sense.” You can see your own reflection mirrored over Loki in the glass, just slightly superimposing your features on his own. “I like to think that I know you. I want to think that I know you. But everyone keeps trying to convince me that you’re not the person I think I know.”

You shake your head and laugh a little at yourself with a weary tone. “I’m sorry. I’m probably not making any sense.”

“You always speak intelligently, Witling. I admire you for that.” He laces his hands in front of him, as he does when he wants to keep himself still. “It is… complicated. And incredibly ugly.” He glances at you. “I would not wish to burden you with the story.”

“I’ve got nothing but time.” You smile a little at him, though it’s tinged with melancholy. “And I think we’ve established I’ve got a decent perspective on ugly stories.”

You feel his green eyes on you- such a familiar feeling, even though now it makes you shift anxiously in your seat. “I suppose you deserve to know. You are one of the few who have shown me any grace for my actions.” In a graceful movement, he criss-crosses his long legs in front of him, and lets his elbows rest on his knees. “You know of the events in New Mexico?”

“More or less.”

“It was, in essence, a desperate scheme to win the affections of my father. To prove my worthiness in the eyes of someone who had never seen me as such.” Loki is excellent at hiding his feelings when he wants to, but by now you can see through all the façades he throws up to protect himself. “I had discovered my heritage in… less than ideal circumstances. I believed Thor’s downfall was my chance to claim everything I’d ever yearned for, only to realize those dreams were never possible to begin with. My anger was- immense.” Something in his voice cracks. “I was mourning so many different lives. My childhood, my Aesir form, my father’s son and an heir to Asgard. Everything I had ever known was simply an illusion waiting to be shattered.” He grimaces. “I did not handle it well.”

You don’t think your chest has ever hurt this much. “I don’t think anyone would, Loki. You can’t blame yourself for feeling angry.”

“What has anger every gained us,” he says softly, as though he’s quoting some wise scholar.

You don’t know what to say to that.

“I pleaded with my father over the broken Bifrost,” he says, “asking him if he could ever truly love me the way any child craves. And he denied me that simple need once and for all.”

“Loki-”

He shakes his head. “Thor was holding me aloft over the abyss. He would have pulled me to safety, I am sure of it. But instead- I let go.”

In your entire life, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone sound so broken as he does in this moment. It makes you physically ache, and you want to take his grief and shoulder it yourself so he might have a spare moment of peace; let your thumb rub away the lines etched in his face until they smooth into something happier.

“When Thanos found me, I did not have the strength or heart to resist.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Who is-”

“Don’t,” Loki warns. “Please. He is…” he mumbles a few things under his breath, but in languages you can’t understand. “He is a titan that has risen from the depths intent on his own ideas of perfection. His cruelty is outshone only by his ambition.” You can’t hold back a small noise of dismay when you notice his fingers are trembling. “I could not have fallen into his power at a more opportune time.”

“I will not claim to be wholly innocent. I am not. When he offered me dominion over Thor’s beloved Earth, I did not stay my hand from the weapon he gave me. But only after I received it did I realize his true intentions.” He takes a shaky breath, and presses his spine to the wall behind him, like he needs the support. “Casualties the likes of which you could not imagine. Violence, brutally meted without hesitation. The entire galaxy balanced in the palm of his hand. I tried to run- but I was weak, and now he had a grip on my very being.” The smile he gives is mirthless, haunted. “I am not easily broken. But they did so… effortlessly.”

By now you’ve drawn your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, curling in on yourself as tight as you can manage. It’s like the room has dropped in temperature, slowly freezing your blood from the inside out. “What did…” you trail off, your voice thin enough to crack the most fragile sheet of ice. “Do I want to know?”

“I would not tell you even if you did.” You roughly wipe away a tear with the heel of your hand. “But the heat was immeasurable, and the scars were thoroughly and deliberately gifted.”

You wince reflexively. “How do you torture a frost giant,” you murmur, trying to push all kinds of horrific images out of your mind.

He nods briefly. “Precisely. All the while the infinity stone was working its power. I can resist thrall more than most, but not completely.”

“You mentioned an infinity stone before.”

“The mind stone is one of them. It is housed in the scepter Thanos gave me; the one I brought to Midgard during the invasion.”

Pieces are coming together one by one, into a warped and twisted sort of understanding. “That scepter- you used it to brainwash Barton, and everyone else.”

“Yes.”

“And it was also… controlling you?”

“Not so completely. I could resist in certain moments.”

“No, but- Loki.” You sit forward, trying to understand what he’s telling you. “It was controlling you. You were being controlled. Just like Barton. Just like all the others.”

“One could say.”

“Loki! This means- it means it wasn’t your fault!” You’re a strange mix of hopefulness, wrath, depression, and enlightenment. “Does SHIELD know this? Do the Avengers?”

“No,” he says fiercely, and he pins you with that gaze of his. “And you will not tell them.”

That stops you short. “Why-?”

“Because I am guilty no matter the circumstances, darling.” His voice is gentle, like he’s trying to let you down easy. “I did not refuse Thanos’ offer.”

“You had just fallen through space and time after your entire identity was stolen from you,” you retort. “Even if the latter hadn’t happened, would you have physically been able to resist after your fall? Enough to escape?”

“I- do not know.”

“Loki.” You sit back and rub your eyes. “This changes everything.”

“It doesn’t.”

“It does! If Barton isn’t being held responsible for what he did when he wasn’t in control of his body then you sure as hell shouldn’t be!”

“Witling-”

“When Fury knows he’ll have to-”

“He will not know! And you-” he looks at you firmly, “will not tell him. Anyone. Promise me, Witling.”

“But why? Loki, you could clear your name-”

“He is the most dangerous thing in the galaxy,” he hisses, “and he will be coming back.” When your eyes widen, Loki closes his own and takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I fear it more than Ragnarok,” he says simply. “I would not bring any more destruction to this world than I already have. At least for now.”

You’re ready to argue, ready to fight with him tooth and nail until he realizes just how not at fault he actually is for this whole catastrophe- but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Not when he’s shivering and vulnerable and minutes away from tipping into a headspace you know would be hell to drag him out of.

“Okay.” He looks at you. “I- I don’t agree with it. But I trust you. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“Thank you.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Thank you for telling me.”

Loki nods, his face exhausted and drawn. “In here, I would trust you before I trust myself.”

69 notes · View notes

secretpianer · 6 years

Text

Apple Juice

hey look another bunny fic where butters runs away

Hell in Butters’ mind was never a pit of fire that burned for an eternity, or an nightmarish abyss roiling with the souls of the damned; it is a flat, infinitely expanding plane of frozen, desolate loneliness; a spearing cold that eats brutally at your flesh, then your muscles, then your bones, until they turn brittle, crumbling to ugly flecks of dust and blown into the windchill where they’d become part of the iced, hard landscape.

This is Hell; broken down five miles past Stark’s Pond at four in the morning with a snowstorm on its way. All of his possessions are in his car– well, the important ones are, like blankets, pillows, clothes, his laptop, some food and even toilet paper, enough to pack the entire backseat full, and as smoke plumes from the hood of his poor sedan all he can think is how cold it’ll be when he opens the door, and that if he can’t fix the engine the heat built up in his car will escape and his fingers will freeze off before he has a chance to figure out what went wrong or what to do next.

He can’t risk it. He’ll have to call someone. He takes out his phone, ignoring the tremble in his hand. His parents? He’d rather die of frostbite than ask them for help. His “friends” might be up– he considers Stan, but Stan’s reliability depends on Kyle, whose moral compass is radically skewed by whatever mood he or his mother is in, and at four in the morning it might not be so peachy. Cartman would come, only to laugh at his misfortune and then leave him to be buried in the storm. There’s only one option, the only one that was there from the beginning.

Butters prays for the signal to go through, and then smiles as the phone begins to ring. It rings for a long time. Butters is on edge, the muscles in his tensing jaw causing his teeth to chatter. The heat is rapidly draining from inside his car. Soon, he’ll have no choice but to consider about walking–

A click.

“Hello?”

The voice is groggy and agitated, but it’s there. Warm tears of relief brim his eyes.

“Kenny, I’m so sorry for waking you up, b-but I’m in a bit of a pickle here and I need your help.”

“Is it important enough that I have to get out of bed at four– shit fucking hell, it’s four in the goddamn morning–”

Butters sniffles. The tears brimming his eyes threaten to fall– it’s painful to hold them in, but he does. “I’m broken down. Dead in the water. I wouldn’t have called otherwise, but I’m out of town and it’s gonna snow soon, not just any snow but a storm and I might get trapped here a-and turn into a popsicle or get murdered by my parents and then turned into a popsicle–”

“Slow down.”

Butters hears a grunt and some shuffling, then Kenny is back on the receiver, more alert but more irritated.

“Where are you at?”

His pulse quickens with hope. “The interstate outside Sewell Park, about ten minutes out. I’m so gosh darn sorry about this, if I had just gotten the stupid thing maintenanced before I went out–”

“Hush. You owe me for this, Stotch.” Butters hears what he’s sure is a suppressed yawn. And then, in a gentler tone, “Hang tight, and stay warm. I’m on my way.”

Kenny ends the call and Butters sets his phone down. Streetlamps line the white roads. Through the orange glow, snow begins to fall.

Powdery and light at first, he knows, but soon it will rain in heavy torrents from the sky. The clouds have been blocking the sun and stars for days. He wanted to leave town before then, but like always, things didn’t turn out how he wanted. At least he’s not going to freeze. He leans his head back in the chair, closing his eyes.

Being buried in snow is not as fluffy and soft as Butters had used to imagine. It’s a slow, suffocating weight, a cold so dry and consuming that it burns. He used to love rolling in fresh falls of it, because it was so pillowy, light, and shallow enough to trudge through knee-deep, but ever since he bought his own car he’s dreamt of driving to Arizona, basking in its blistering heat, or even California, lounging on a breezy beach with burnt shoulders and sand in his hair.

Kenny arrives to him curled up tight into one of his extra coats. The engine has stopped smoking, and Kenny is looking from it to Butters, who is slow blinking awake in the driver’s seat and stiffly unwinding his frigid limbs. Kenny knocks on the window.

“You still alive in there?”

Butters opens the door and whimpers as ice cold air floods into his car. Kenny does not look pleased; he’s wearing his parka, snow caught in its fur, with his iron man pajama bottoms and unlaced hiking boots. Butters bows his head.

“Unfortunately.”

Kenny sighs heavily. “Don’t say that. Are you okay?”

“Dandy.”

He peers into the backseat. “Uh, going somewhere?”

Butters sniffs. “Not anymore.”

Kenny scratches the back of his neck. “Well, I honestly don’t know how to fix something like this. If it were a tire change, that’d be different, but...”

Butters can’t lift his gaze from the ground. “I just need a ride back home.”

Home. The thought hits him in the gut with cold nausea. He can feel Kenny looking at him, unyielding to the cold, his hands in his pockets and the wind picking up through his sleep-mussed hair.

“I’ll take you,” Kenny says, nodding towards his truck. “Hop in. We’ll call a tow-truck in the morning. Anything in the back that you need out?”

Bewildered, Butters stares at him, his answer delayed. “Uh, yeah...”

They transfer some of his more valuable possessions into Kenny’s car. Kenny suggests bringing the food as well, and then the blankets because it’s so cold, and then eventually they’re unpacking the entirety of Butters’ supplies under the tarp of the bed of Kenny’s truck and driving it all back the way he had left. He’s completely silent as he sits in the passenger’s seat, and Kenny offers nothing to fill it, focused on the road with one hand on the wheel and the other propping his head up against the window. The windshield wipers sweep dreamily in front of them, swiping snow out of the way as it piles up.

They pass the park, and then the old elementary school, but Kenny keeps going, missing the turn to Butters’ house. Butters sits up.

“What? But my house is–”

“You think I’m taking you back there? Really?” Kenny doesn’t look away from the road. Butters admires his stern, unrelenting profile.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” he says, his voice small.

“My place.”

Butters mouth hangs open. Kenny’s apartment. It became a sort of legend ever since the rumor started going around that Kenny had his own place, which was just his older brother’s apartment, to party and hang out. Then, when he was around 17, he made plans to move in, but no one believed that he’d go through with it until the day he turned 18 and sister was completely settled into his old room. He works to help pay rent and utilities, keeping his brother company, while not being too far from Karen. Butters couldn’t be more envious.

They pull into the apartment lot, which is across the street from a Target and Walmart shopping district. This late at night (or early in the morning) the rows and rows of windows and doors give off a threatening eeriness that Butters would never want to intrude upon if Kenny weren’t with him. But they are nice; he’d give anything to live alone in a place like this.

“It’s really nice,” Butters says, stepping out of the car and following Kenny up a short flight of stairs. Kenny’s keys jangle as he shakes the chains.

“I got lucky.” They climb the stairs to the second floor and then step into a hallway for a bit before stopping halfway through; the number on the top says 23. “It’s a really good gig.”

“Will your brother be mad that you’re coming back this late...er, early?”

“Kevin? Nah. He’s a heavy sleeper. Though he might be surprised to see that I brought you home.”

“Huh?” Butters’ anxiety spikes. “Why? I’m not intruding am I?”

“No, that’s...that’s not what I meant.”

Kenny is illuminated by a single hallway light that flickers feebly as he jams the key into the lock. He never finishes his thought, and Butters is too nervous to ask him to, especially since Kenny’s gone a little pink in the cheeks and he might not want to. Butters would never push anyone to do anything they weren’t comfy with, especially someone whose opinion he holds so highly. Kenny opens the door, and Butters follows the way in.

The kitchen light was left on. Kenny doesn’t say anything, heading straight around the corner to what Butters assumes is his bedroom. Butters takes a quick glance around; there’s leftovers sitting on the counter, a few dirty plates and an opened bottle of vodka, but otherwise, it’s pretty tidy.

“Kenny?” he calls out, afraid to step anywhere out of his welcome.

“Come on in,” he says, and Butters heads through the hall to Kenny’s room.

Everything is completely clean. Butters isn’t sure what he expected, but having seen his room at his parent’s house he might’ve anticipated some games lying around, dirty clothes out of the hamper, something, but every sock has its pair and every drawer is closed and dusted. The layout of the furniture is a little unusual, just because there is none; what could be the nightstand is pushed into a corner far from the bed, and the bed itself has no frame or base but sits plush on the floor with all of Kenny’s sheets. It’s completely bare, except for a couple of sexy posters, the least surprising feature of the room.

“U-Um,” he says, holding his hands close to his chest. He brought a bag with his pillow and some sleeping supplies, but he’s not sure what to do with them. The bed looks too small for them both, and Butters distinctly noticed that there was no sofa or futon in the sitting room.

Kenny sheds his parka and collapses onto the mattress, pulling the sheets over himself. “You can sleep here with me. It’s a tight fit but I don’t mind.”

Butters does. He minds very much. “I-I think I’ll sleep out in the living room, it’s carpeted and I have some blankets–”

“There’s no heater out there. You’ll freeze.” Kenny’s eyes are closed and he faces the wall. “I’m too tired to argue about this. You’ve been shivering ever since I picked you up. If you don’t stay warm, you’ll get sick for sure.”

Butters lower lip trembles. It’s scary. Sleeping means dreaming and dreaming is scary. But...he’s tired of being cold. The bed looks so soft, so safe, especially with Kenny in it, a cozy body completely at ease in Butters’ presence. With some dread he sets down his bag and sheds his outer layers and boots, immediately seized by the chill and dropping down to the bed. He hurries to get under the blankets and gives Kenny a wide berth of space, so far on the end of the mattress that he could roll off simply by shifting his leg.

It’s still cold.

The blinds don’t block all the light that comes in from outside. Occasionally a car will pass, shadows sliding across the walls and then fading out. Butters hears Kenny breathing deeply beside him, feels the heat of his back seeping into his own. He’s squeezing his eyes tightly shut, hoping that the harder he presses the faster he’ll fall asleep.

Soon, he hears voices.

Far off ones, like he’s hearing them from another room or downstairs. Their whispers scrape against his eardrums, a sinister, incessant pressure that simmers under the surface of his anxiety. Their volume grows, from an urgent, compressed undertone to a shrill scream that booms through the house. Butters buries himself under his pillow, hoping the sound will be muffled or go away, but it only gets louder. He can hear every word clearly.

They’re wrong, he tries to tell himself over the voices. He’s not worthless. His mom isn’t a whore. His dad doesn’t wish he had a different son, doesn’t wish that he had a different family, doesn’t think that Butters will never contribute anything meaningful to society and will always be an embarrassment–

The door slams open and Butters jumps, wide awake. He listens hard for several minutes, until he realizes that he’s not in his home, and the door to his bedroom didn’t really open.

“You’re a piece of shit. Fucking useless sack of shit. You and your mother.”

Butters can’t repress a small whimper. He cowers under the sheets, rubbing his hands hard over his cheeks to try and hold back the hot wetness that trickles down them, but it won’t stop. If it were just a dream, maybe the voices would fade more quickly, but the memory of his dad’s spiteful tone won’t leave his head, ringing like a terrible alarm.

“Butters?”

Lord, it keeps getting worse. This is exactly why he wanted to sleep in the living room.

“Sorry, just...had a bad dream.”

The sheets shift around him as Kenny turns. Butters feels his warmth, less than an inch from touching him, but Kenny keeps his distance. “What about?”

“I...” He sniffs, immediately wincing at his own inability to control himself. He’s such a wuss. “I just...I just wanna sleep. But I can’t. It’s cold, and I...keep having nightmares...”

A hand comes down on his forearm. Butters jolts, his sniveling stopping short with his breath.

“You were running away, weren’t you?”

Butters stares at the far wall. It’s too early for the sun to start rising but he knows it will soon. He starts to shiver.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s cool.” Kenny yawns, and Butters feels a puff of it near his ear. They’re so close. “But I’m here if you want to.”

He doesn’t have it in him to respond. Kenny’s hand is heavy on his shoulder, and he knows if he doesn’t address it Kenny never will, so Butters gathers all the courage in him that he has and slips his hand over it.

“Kenny?”

“Yeah?”

Tears fall freely down his cheeks. “Can I stay here for a couple days?”

When Kenny doesn’t answer immediately, Butters takes his other hand and slips it over his mouth to muffle the noises. It’s just sad. He wants to hide, bury himself under the blankets, under snow, suffocating beneath bitter-cold sheets of it until he’s left to crawl out of the pile by himself and walk home wet and shivering only to get sick and yelled at by his parents.

He hates this town and everyone in it. He hates the cold, permanently embedded into his bones, inside his chest, his gelid blood. He hates everything, except for Kenny, who has started to scoot closer, is slipping his hand from Butters’ shoulder to wrap around his waist and pull him against his chest. Kenny’s warmth encases him, melts the snow into the water that gathers on Butters’ pillow.

“You’ve always been such a crybaby,” Kenny murmurs into the tangle of Butters’ hair, “because you hold shit in like this.” He sighs; he could be falling asleep again. Butters focuses on the heart beating slow against his back. “Stay however long you want. I like having you around.”

“You...” Kenny’s words float around in his head, dimming the others. “You do?”

“Mhm.” Involuntarily, maybe, or maybe on purpose, Kenny pulls Butters closer. “You smell like apple juice.”

Butters is too stunned to think of a reply, but when he does, soft breaths tickle down his neck. Kenny’s fallen asleep. Butters smiles to himself.

He’ll tell him what happened in the morning. For now, he indulges in the touch that Kenny has given him, snuggling into his welcome heat.

It’s a lovely moment, or several hours, of peace, until the door to Kenny’s bedroom opens and Kevin finds them wrapped around each other like pieces of tangled string and snoring soundly.

Except Butters had no idea. Kenny tells him about it later, after everything has settled and they’re sitting comfortably in the living area watching cartoons while the storm blankets South Park.

Kenny had looked at his brother, and Kevin looked back, saying nothing. And then he left them to continue sleeping.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Kenny says over a bowl of cereal. “You definitely needed the sleep.”

“Thank you, Kenny.” Butters smiles, filled with his own warmth. “For everything.”

#south park #sp bunny #kenny mccormick #butters stotch #some sweet sweet fluff #disgusting #my poops

387 notes · View notes

firesoulstuff · 6 years

Note

Oooh! You know I've gotta ask for flashbacks with a Snart ship. Either Captain Canary or Goldenvibe? (Or Goldenatom, if you feel like it... Lisa/Ray has so much potential.)

AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

SOMEONE PROMPTED ME GOLDENATOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Sorry, I just LOVE Goldenatom and all the potential they have!)

Also I am going to apologize in advance for the absolute trash that I am for 2000′s era country music. This fic is 100% based on the Chuck Wicks song Stealing Cinderella. You do not need to know the song to read this, but if you would like to listen to it here is a link.

One Hell of a Thief

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15814818

Ray Palmer is no stranger to feeling nervous.

He’s felt nervous plenty of times throughout his life. His first science fair, his first day of college, the day he officially signed the paperwork that started Palmer Tech, and a countless number of times since joining The Legends. But nothing compares to this. Of all the risks he’s taken as a Legend, of all the potentially dangerous situations he’s rushed head first into without a second thought, none of them are as frightening as this one.

Gulping down his fear he raises his fist to knock, but before he can so much as touch the door it slides open, revealing a bewildered looking Leonard Snart.

“Uh…” he stammers, unsure of how to explain his presence just outside the other man’s bedroom.

“Whatever you need Raymond, I’ll be back in a few minutes, Sara wants me help her sort out something from the last mission.” Snart explains, pushing past him so that he can move down the hall.

“But,” Ray finds himself stammering out before he can think better of it, as well as chasing the other man down the hall. “I… I kind of need to talk to you about something.”

“Is Lisa ok?” He asks, though he appears to be only mildly concerned. Lisa joined The Legends just over a year ago and the two of them have been together almost since the beginning, a relationship the older Snart sibling has made clear he isn’t thrilled about.

Ray is pretty sure it’s all just a part of his cold act; pretty sure.

That doesn’t make this any less nerve wracking.

“Yeah, Lisa, Lisa’s fine.” He stops to clear his throat, and while he’s sure his friend has noticed his unease it doesn’t stop him from waving him off.

“Then like I said, I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.”

With that said he turns back towards the direction of Sara’s room, and so with the nerves settling in even deeper Ray heads back for the room they just left.

He considers not going inside, he has almost never been in Snart’s room and never once without the other man present. He’s terrified of accidently touching the wrong thing or something like that, but then again he is equally afraid of looking like a fool sitting on the floor of the hall for who knows how long. So it’s with a deep breath that he enters through the still open door, his movements stiff as though he’s expecting Snart to materialize and demand to know what he is doing in his room.

The room is clean; of course, because where Lisa is more than content to allow her laundry to pool over her floor her brother doesn’t have so much as a sock littering his space. The desk is a little more overrun, but it’s organized, and his bed is neatly made.

Though, there is something on the bed.

Approaching against his better judgment, and glancing twice back over his shoulder to be sure that Snart hasn’t returned yet, Ray notices that the object is a pocket photo album, and it’s open.

The picture is of a little girl, who he soon recognizes as Lisa, and it brings a smile to his face.

She can’t be any older than three, and she’s beaming at the camera with a toothy grin that spreads all the way to her rosy cheeks, her long hair failing in tight curls along her shoulders and a cheap Cinderella dress hanging off her tiny frame.

The next picture is also of Lisa, though a little older this time, and standing next to a pink My Little Pony bike that probably could’ve fallen apart right under her. He thumbs through the album, smiling at each new picture of Lisa as it’s revealed. There are quite a few of her in pajamas, some smiling and some looking rather annoyed. There’s one where she has an empty popsicle stick in her hand and blue dye smeared all over her face.

“She really is something, isn’t she?”

Ray nearly jumps at the sound of Snart’s voice, and he turns around with every intention of apologizing profusely, but when he sees the amused smirk on the other man’s face he calms, realizing that he hasn’t overstepped.

“Yeah,” he agrees, chuckling as he thumbs through to the next page of the album and it shows him an image of his beloved girlfriend at probably the age of twenty and posing with what he can only assume is her first motorcycle. “She is quite a woman.”

He regrets the words the moment they’re out of his mouth, his eyes settling on a now very unamused Snart. He hadn’t meant the words like that, in any sort of suggestive way that is. He isn’t sure if he can recover from something like this, especially not once Snart comes into the room, pace a touch more slow and sauntering than usual.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t dare to so much as breath as his girlfriend’s older brother comes and plucks the photo album from his hands, flipping carefully through it.

“Mom liked taking pictures,” he says eventually, almost like he were discussing the weather and not the pieces of his past that he usually keeps under lock and key.

“Of course, she didn’t take any of these.”

Ray nods; he knows that, Lisa’s told him. Their mom left when she was only two, she hardly remembers her at all.

“After she left…” Snart continues, like he knows he doesn’t have to explain any of this, but he’s going to anyway, because he wants to, and suddenly Ray realizes that his friend knows exactly why it is that he’s here.

“Dear old dad went off the deep end, and got rid of most of her pictures.” He continues, and Ray listens attentively. Lisa’s already told him this before, but with it now coming from Leonard, it’s just as important that he pay attention.

“The ones he didn’t destroy were the ones that had long been stored away, they were before Lisa was born. As she got older she wanted pictures too, so she asked me to take some.

He shouldn’t be doing this.

That was all he could think as he walked into Lisa’s room with mom’s old camera. Dad will lose it if he catches them, and he’ll pay the price, but…

“Lenny!” Lisa’s impatient whine came from her room. “Come on! Take my picture!”

He had to smile at the sight of her as he rounded the corner, standing excitedly in the middle of her floor in her new Halloween costume. She’d insisted on going as Cinderella this year and she, apparently, needed it documented.

“Ok, ok,” he gave into her, like he always did and still does. “But you better smile, cause we only have enough film for one picture.”

She had given him the biggest smile she could that day, and he was trying to bring that out of her again.

“Come on Lisa,” He prompted her, picking her bike up and doing his best to get it standing on it’s own. “You can’t give up yet.”

“Can too,” she muttered, still on the ground. “It’s a dumb bike anyway.”

He frowned, she wasn’t wrong.

This was the first time dad has gone to jail since she was a baby. She’s been miserable all week and him and grandpa have tried everything to bring her out of it, including getting her a bike.

Ok, it isn’t a new bike, but they can’t exactly afford a new bike while trying to get dad out of jail.

“Come on,” he tried again, “When you’re bigger you’ll want to see a picture of the first day you tried riding a bike.

She glanced at him curiously, and he was nearly sure she would just blow him off again, but she didn’t. She got to her feet with a huff and posed for the picture.

Leonard beams as he flips through the album, remembering all the pictures he and his grandfather took of Lisa when she was little, until he finally comes across his favorite, stuck in the middle of the album, and stops Raymond from turning the page.

“Where did you learn this?” He asked, though he wasn’t sure he really wanted an answer. Lisa was only nine, it wasn’t like a boy could’ve taught her how to dance while he was away in Juvie, but it wasn’t like grandpa was exactly in walking shape much during these days, never mind dancing.

Of course, his sister only giggled at him and adjusted his hold on her waist, which for the record he had to stoop low to reach but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Rosa taught me, she takes lessons.”

Ah yes, that explained so much.

So, after accepting that his fourth grade sister had apparently learned to ballroom dance from one of her friends, he kept his mouth shut and allowed her to “correct” his form.

He wasn’t planning on going to his prom, for the record. He couldn’t have cared less about it if he tried, but Lisa wanted him to go. As soon as she found the crumpled flyer sticking out of his backpack she’d been relentlessly pestering him about going. So, here he stood in the living room, wearing grandpa’s old suit while Lisa had her best dress left over from last Easter, insistent that they look the part while she “taught” him how to dance.

He should’ve known grandpa would bring out the camera.

“I can see her doing that,” Ray chuckles after Snart finishes his story behind the picture, “Lisa spending her recess as a kid learning how to ballroom dance.”

Snart rolls his eyes, but he also laughs a genuine laugh, one Ray doesn’t think he’s ever heard before.

That’s when it sets in; that Snart really does know why he’s here, and for some reason he has decided not to kill him.

He must sense this revelation, because in a very un-Snart-like and yet still somehow extremely Snart-like fashion his friend clasps him on the shoulder and holds his gaze for a moment.

“You’ll take care of her?” He asks, and Ray nods, fully aware that his expression is nothing short of pleading but he doesn’t care.

Snart smirks at that, and then looks past him.

“I know you’re out there train wreck,” he calls, and so Ray turns around, bewildered, while the door opens and Lisa comes rushing in.

A part of him is hurt, because he had wanted the proposal to be a surprise and he had hoped he could at least get Snart’s blessing without his girlfriend finding out. But of course she found out, Leonard Snart raised her after all. Besides, he can’t really be hurt, not when he’s watching her rush her brother in a grateful hug. He has to smile, his fingers still lingering on the now discarded photo album.

“If he gives me a hard time, I can’t blame the fella.

I’m the one whose stealing Cinderella.”

#DC's Legends of Tomorrow #lisa snart #leonard snart #Ray Palmer #bad things happen bingo #writing prompts #song fic

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itsyourturnblog · 5 years

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Aaron and his swim support team

Going to the family reunion, or not?

Part 1 of 3

My cousin Terri rented her local swim club and invited all 26 cousins and their families for a family reunion. She is working hard to keep our large family together and give our children and grandchildren some of the same fun family times we had when we were growing up. Cousin Terri is offering a gift to our family.

So, will we go, or not?

Even though our oldest son Aaron has the label of autism and developmental disabilities, we try to include him in all our family activities. Now that he is in his forties, we have gotten pretty good at the extra planning and preparation to make sure all turns out well.

Today I want to focus on a strategy called “ecological assessment”. It has made a huge difference in how I look at the world. I’m not using their fancy checklists but I’m hoping to show how to analyze and plan for our visit — in this case, Terri’s local swim club.

Ecological Assessment with Commentary:

We can’t assume all swim clubs are alike. We have to access this one particular swim club. But we can compare/contrast it to Aaron’s past experiences. We can do an “ecological assessment”.

We have been to this swim club before, if we hadn’t, we would have gone a couple of days before and scouted it out. Most people don’t like surprises or change. It’s not a coincidence major chain stores like Target or grocery chains are all laid out the same way. Each of us likes to know the lay-of-the-land. There is comfort in familiarity and that helps reduce our stress in any environment.

Terri’s swim club is at least twenty years old. You’ve seen hundreds like it. The swim lanes, the lifeguards, the signs telling the kids not to run… It is the same swimming pool our family enjoyed when we were teeny-boppers dripping Popsicles and walking around hoping our swimsuits didn’t make us look fat. (Oh, to only be as “fat” as I was when I was 12.) There are some recent upgrades including a ramp into the pool. (Thank you ADA.)

Swimming:

Aaron likes the water and is a pretty good swimmer. He started aquatic therapy when an infant to relax his muscles. My husband Tom will be in the water with him one-on-one. His cousins will be in the pool, so they will be aware of Aaron and add an extra layer of safety from stray beach balls.

Aaron has red hair, fair skin, freckles and if we lather him with sunscreen and he wears a t-shirt in the water he will be protected from burning. Past experiences predict Aaron will probably only stay in the water for about a half hour or so. The exercise will be wonderful for him and he will sleep well. Because Aaron swims with his mouth open, he probably will swallow some water and wet the bed. We’ll make sure he gets to the bathroom at night and we’ll use a mattress pad protector just in case.

Restroom:

The swim club has two separate restrooms and changing facilities. They have shower curtain dividers so Aaron and I will both fit as I change him. It is a typical swim club restroom, so I might have to bring in a chair so Aaron could sit down. Our routine is I change Aaron and then he goes out to his dad, Tom while I change. We usually bring Aaron in his swimsuit, so we only have to change him once. We will give him yogurt in the morning and hopefully he will have his BM before we go. I’ll have an extra set of clothes. Aaron will wear underwear and plastic pants under his swimsuit, just in case. (They don’t make swim diapers for adults.)

Eating:

Aaron eats most anything so the pot luck buffet will be great. Cousin Ray will grill hamburgers… I will bring a dish that doesn’t require any preparation. I’ll make sure it’s in a throw-away container so we won’t have to worry about bringing it home — maybe some frozen fruit cups or fruit-on-skewers so everyone can grab it and not even have to worry about a spoon. Those have been big hits in the past. Or, I’ll get real summer daze lazy and buy some cookies at the grocery. Aaron will need to eat at a table. I’ll bring some folding chairs. We’ll try and feed him close to his usual 5:30 mealtime. Between Tom and me, we can cut up his food and make sure he is comfortable. Usually, he sits by Grandma, so we can make sure both of them are okay. He can have one soft drink, and I’ll bring some bottled water.

Behaviors:

We’ll bring some books and his baseball cards and make sure he isn’t too crowded at the table. We’ll make sure Aaron is in a spot where he can watch everyone and everything that is going on. When he seems tired or agitated we’ll leave. Tommy, Aaron’s younger brother, will get to enjoy the day and spend time with his cousins, we’ve arranged he can spend the night with Cousin Kevin if we have to leave early with Aaron. We’ll make sure someone is with him at all times but trade off so we can talk to some of the relatives. If Aaron starts his echolalia of, “You Okay?” or other odd behaviors like biting his hand to calm himself, it will really be okay, because his cousins know and love Aaron. He is part of the family. The reason the cousins know Aaron is because we bring him to family reunions.

Summary:

This post is to show what an ecological or environmental assessment looks like.

Most parents do the same thing for their babies, their children, their older family members. It’s really not that different — just thinking ahead, planning, and being prepared.

Families are all about “belonging”. Aaron belongs. If we really want Aunt Lizzie or Great Grandma Stella to belong, welcomed and come to the family reunions, there are little things we gladly do to modify the environment and accommodate their needs. For instance, Great Grandma Stella will surely take out her teeth after dinner and they will get misplaced. So Cousin Eileen is assigned to put them in a safe place. (This is an urban legend in our family.)

Same with Aaron — just add, subtract, and/or change a couple of extra things to make him feel comfortable. Modifications and adaptations are for everyone. Tom and I won’t live forever. Aaron’s future health and safety are dependant on our family who will love and protect him.

We still haven’t decided if we are going to the family reunion or not.

Going to the Family Reunion: Part 2 will look at the family reunion through the eyes of Social Systems Theory (don’t worry; it’s not as boring as it sounds).

In the comments below share some of the modifications and accommodations your family uses to make sure the oldest, the youngest, and all the relatives in-between have their needs met at a family reunion? Check out more on “Ecological Assessments”, and “Belonging” from David Pitonyak.

Going to the Family Reunion, or not? Part 1 first appeared on my blog Climbing Every Mountain. It is the first of three parts.

Going to the Family Reunion, or not? Part 1 was originally published in It's Your Turn on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

by Mary Ulrich via It's Your Turn - Medium #itsyourturn #altMBA #SethGodin #quotes #inspiration #stories #change #transformation #writers #writing #self #shipping #personaldevelopment #growth #education #marketing #entrepreneurship #leadership #personaldev #wellness #medium #blogging #quoteoftheday #inspirationoftheday

#ItsYourTurn #It's Your Turn #IYT #altMBA #Seth Godin #Inspiration #Stories #Change #Transformation #Blog #Medi

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