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chooseyouovereveryone · 4 years ago

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10 Years Of Songbird: Brittana Fan Project

Hello my fellow Brittana lovers!

First of all, happy 10 years to the iconic Glee episode that is Rumours and the beautifully moving performance that is Songbird. Such a pivotal part in Brittana's story, and one that will forever be ingrained in my mind. Naya's voice still gives me goosebumps and reduces me to tears on that performance, paired with Heather's genuine tearful reaction.

Second of all, this is up slightly later than planned so apologies for that, but Tumblr glitched on me big time and I had to repost this all again which considering I had a draft built up for days, was rather inconvenient, but we’re here now and hopefully it was worth the wait!

Putting this project together has brought me so much joy in revisiting my favourite ship. I don't think I will ever tire of reading about them, and hearing from others why they love them so much and how this ship resonated with them.

For me, Brittany and Santana were the first positive representation I saw of a WLW relationship. I was shook to the core watching their story unfold, in how much it mirrored what was going on in my own life with my own denial and with my own relationship. I found myself clinging to that storyline like an anchor, as if it was going to give me the answers to my own story. Throughout all the confusion I had in my own coming out and realisation that I was a lesbian, the storyline gave me hope that one day, everything would be okay. Watching them go from confused and conflicted best friends to wives gave me so much hope for the future, and now as a 27 year old out and proud gay woman, I still look at this storyline with the same love-filled eyes.

Even as Glee ended and I stepped away from the fandom, Brittana have always been a huge part of my life, always there in the background, always my comfort storyline to turn to and rewatch a bunch of times. But losing Naya last year really brought me back to the fandom and the community and reminded me why I loved them so much.

I think what I love most of all about this ship is how organic it was. It came from the fans, and from Naya and Heather encouraging the writers to take it seriously. Because of this, I also wanted to add in some little touches of Heya, and include quotes from Naya and Heather talking about their fave scenes.

I'll forever be indebted to this storyline in what felt like a really hard and confusing time in my teenage years.

So thank you Naya

Thank you Heather.

& thank you so much to all of you for taking part.

Also a huge shoutout once again to @hopefulobjectmiracle for letting me use her idea and for providing help along the way. She came up with the concept for this project with Klaine, and I wanted to create a Brittana version, but I'd strongly recommend checking out her Klaine one if you haven't already.

I hope you enjoy reading it, as much as I enjoyed putting it together :)

Brittany & Santana Talk To Holly Holliday About Their Feelings- 2x15, “Sexy”

Choosing a favorite scene is hard so I'll choose one of my favorite lines: in the episode Sexy when Santana and Brittany first talk to Holly about their sexuality, Britt says "I don't know how I feel because Santana refuses to talk about it".

I love this line because most people would play it off as Brittany being a simpleton, but that's not the case. Brittany is saying she doesn't know if she's allowed to like Santana as more than her best friend. She doesn't know if it's right. Because if Santana isn't in to girls then Brittany could be crossing a line, a line where she could possibly be making Santana uncomfortable. Brittany obviously knows how she feels about Santana but she wants to make sure Santana feels for her in the same way before admitting to it, as not to ruin what they already have.

-@neversatisfiedwithlife

Landslide- 2x15, “Sexy”

It was incredibly difficult for me to choose my favorite Brittana scene. There are so many that I love and find important to me...some of these moments were even literally life-altering. Before Brittana, for example, I didn't know that girls could be gay, and I had no idea that what I felt for some of my female friends was anything other than platonic. I'm sure I would have realized I was queer eventually, but this ship and the fandom that I found myself in made the process so much easier for me. But I digress :)

I eventually narrowed it down to four choices—Landslide, Songbird, the Heart Locker Scene in New York, and Cherish/Cherish in Heart, and out of these I've decided to single out Landslide as my numero uno, as it was this very scene that started my decade-long love affair with this ship :)

There are so many things that I love about this scene. Earlier in the show we see Brittany attempt to talk about their relationship knowing that they were more than just best-friends-with-benefits, but Santana would instantly close herself off. Still, Brittany pressed on, determined to understand what they had become, while Santana began to realize that what they had—what they could become—was worth letting herself be vulnerable, worth the risk of getting herself hurt. The fact that Landslide was the product of this early struggle gives it so much meaning ;u;

The scene itself has all these details that make my heart ache in the best way possible...the way they look at each other throughout the song, Santana's eyes a myriad of emotions, full of sadness, confusion, conflict, longing, Britt's eyes filled with concern knowing how much it's taking her best friend to be so vulnerable, then the pride that shines through when she looks at Santana after the performance; the way that Santana's voice breaks singing "and I'm getting older, too"; when she stands afterwards and goes over to Brittany, and Britt opens her arms to hold Santana instantly like it's a reflex; the way that they fit against each other so perfectly, like they were made to be in each other's arms...even the visual composition of the scene was perfect ToT That instant of them hugging each other is a study in contrasts with the way Britt's flaxen hair shines against Santana's night-dark head, and with the way Santana's soft white blouse contrasts against Brittany's deep blue denim top ;u; It's gorgeous.

-@randomcanbian

My fav Brittana scene is when they sing landslide together, because it was one of the first times we got to Santana be so vulnerable

-@snowpickles

What is a landslide? Simply put, it’s defined as a collapse of a mass of earth or rock from a mountain or cliff. That’s the perfect way to describe the rocky relationship between Santana and Brittany in S2, and it‘s exactly why their performance of the infamous Fleetwood Mac song of the same name (Sexy; 2x15) is such a pivotal moment in time in for them.

Santana showed a side of herself to her friends, but most importantly to Brittany, that many would deem her incapable of ever doing. For that moment she allowed that brick wall she always had built up around her for protection to come slowly crumbling down. And the best part? She allowed that — wanted that — to happen. She needed to bare her soul to the person she loved most, but she wasn‘t sure how or when, or if she ever could.

Seeing Santana put her heart on her sleeve and confess her feelings of love and admiration for Brittany through song — finally — is one of the highlights of the entire series for me. We see her trap herself within a new world for a few minutes, one that contains only the two of them through her eyes, and let her emotions do the talking. Brittany understood everything without a single word being spoken to her. Santana hadn’t opened up to anyone at this point about how she felt, not even to herself, but so much was understood between them without saying nothing at all. My favorite spoken line is Brittany‘s, „Is that really how you feel?“

As a viewer, it was such an infamous moment because we now get to cheer for them. We see that they are on the same page with one another, that through it all, their attraction and desire for one another never wavered. They wouldn’t be a a couple for quite a bit more time, but they both now understood what we as viewers saw all along. Santana stopped denying her sexuality; she stopped denying what Brittany meant to herself. She still had a lot to sort out and wasn’t ready to free herself from the constraints of her sexuality, but she made the biggest move: allowing Brittany on the other side of that wall with her.

This performance let to the scene we grew to love known as the Hurt Locker, which is the scene that made the Brittana fandom sing praise to the high heavens. Santana felt like she could finally confess her feelings to Brittany. She was terrified, but she somehow found the courage within herself to stop closing the door on opportunities. So, I‘m thankful for Holly Holiday for being the person that Santana and Brittany felt comfortable enough to go to, and I‘m thankful for her willingness to perform with them, because it gave us much more than a song — it gave us hope. It gave us validation. It gave us Brittana.

-@TheWednesdayProject on Reddit

Hurt Locker-2x15, “Sexy”

"A lot of people have said that scene gave them courage to come out to their parents and their friends and their loved ones, so I think that it's something that's very important, and I hope that we handled it responsibly which I think that we did"- Naya (PaleyFest 2012)

Hurt Locker is my fave scene - just Santana finally coming to feel and admit the truth within. I've probably watched it a thousand times and I'll never get sick of it. The expressions and unspoken acting Naya and Heather put into it give me all the feels!

-@chasingseals

Okay so my favorite Brittana scene is probably the scene where Santana express her feelings for Brittany during “sexy” and says she’s afraid to be with Brittany because of the talks and the way people are gonna stare and that she wasn’t even afraid to what people would say to her face but to what people would say behind her back.

And that’s because I feel the same way. I’m not a lesbian, I’m bisexual, but at the moment I have a girlfriend and I am so afraid to come out to even the rest of my family (apart from my parents and sister) because I always hear them talking about these girls with names such as “dyke” or something, and it was good to see on tv someone with the same fears and it is so good to see that they had a happy ending and got married and that all this started when they decided “not to care” about everybody else’s opinions and be themselves and be happy.

-@wankybjtch

It’s so, so strange to do this without Naya, but here we are, and she and Heather made this all so beautiful. When I tried to answer this question about my favorite scene, I went first to Songbird - Naya has one of my favorite voices in this whole world - and then to Landslide, and then to Me Against the Music, and all those answers seemed really good. Brittany and Santana spoke to each other so much through music - voices and words and touch - and Heather and Naya gave themselves to their characters so much - and Naya to song so much, and Heather to dance - that they would disappear into Brittana, and would just seem like they were love, made visible. Brittana is love always seems like such a true thing to say, to me. But while what occurred to me first were three songs, I realized that my favorite scene - the one that hit me the hardest - will probably always be the Hurt Locker.

Naya was just so shining there, Santana so full of love and this terrible ache and this more terrible hope, all for Brittany, that you could see Heather glowing back, though so much more quietly. It was an absolutely tremendous thing to see a full-on love scene playing out in the middle of a crowded hallway. Naya and Heather were so beautiful together, as friends and as actresses and as onscreen lovers, and after seeing that scene for the first time, I cried every day for a week, always at these quiet, unexpected times. The love and the hurt and the fear and the hope were so raw in Santana - both in Naya’s performance and in the beautiful script - that it brought everything back about the confusion of starting out with that Oh, god. I am never, never going to be like everyone else. I love her way, way too much. But somehow, the scene made my whole world feel safer. I could see myself, and others could see me. There we were on the screen, worthy and beautiful. <3 Tess

-@venuscomb

Songbird- 2x19, “Rumours”

"I really enjoyed watching Naya sing Songbird. That's ingrained in my head, that time where I sat in the choir room and listened to her sing Songbird, because her voice is just of another world. It's always been my favorite. I will never forget that."- Heather (Entertainment Weekly 2021)

My favorite moment is Santana singing Songbird to Brittany because that is an all time classic romantic song, and Santana (Naya) sings it beautifully, and Brittany just sits there mesmerized. Plus I love what they are wearing, and how they look. i think it's signifcant that Santana sang her love for her here in the choir room, and it's where they had many of their big moments - first together, the break-up song, the flowers in 5, the proposal.

-@1908jmd

My fav scene is 100% Songbird. It’s always been my favourite song and to see it applied to a wlw relationship changed my life a lot because it made me realise that it could be me one day. Santana was always my favourite character too, so to see someone that i appreciated a lot come to terms with their sexuality made me really happy

-@illegally-luthor

My first fav scene out of two is Songbird of course because seeing Santana pouring her heart out to Britt is just the most beautiful thing ever. She was scared to accept who she really was and when it comes to her love for Brittany she’s not scared anymore because loving her is the easiest thing to do. Plus, seeing how Britt reacted was so beautiful. She knew Santana was scared and she was proud of how she confessed her love, through a song, because she knew Santana wasn’t good with words.

-@chloesnix2b

Heart Locker- 2x22, “New York”

My favorite Brittana scene is after Nationals in 2x22 by the lockers.

What I love most about this scene is Brittanys tell it how it is attitude. When Santana said that it clearly wasn’t about winning for her, Brittany looked right through her bullshit, knowing that Santana was getting defensive, because Santana knew what this year was really about for Brittany (and herself too of course), she just didn’t want to admit to it.

You can clearly see that Santana is still scared and hiding and that she still feels like she’s is going to lose Brittany any moment. But Brittany reassures her, tells her how much she loves Santana and makes her feel safe.

My favorite Brittany is always when she’s finally allowed to have feelings and say something. Often the writers didn’t give her anything to do or just made her a caricature of a person. But when she was allowed to express herself, it was in her truest, most vulnerable form. Due to writing, Brittana often seemed one sided, but it’s moments like these that show us how much Brittany loves Santana and how much she wants only the best for her.

For me, the scene felt like the real beginning. They have been taking baby steps before, treading the water. But now Brittany dove right in and her boldness made Santana follow her :)

"What about you and I?", "I love you Santana, I love you more than I‘ve ever loved anyone else in this world. All I know about you and I is that, because of that, I think anything is possible."

-@bolintheturtleduck

I absolutely love every scene that they’re in together, but my favorite is the one where Brittany and Santana are standing outside of the lockers, talking about the glee club. i feel like it showed a lot about Santana’s character at the time and it really inspired me.

-@hoodiestring

Officially Dating - 3x04, “Pot O' Gold”

Their first official date at Breadstix!

Santana and Brittany sitting in the warm lighting of their favourite restaurant in the almost comfortable awkwardness of their tender baby relationship melted something in my baby lesbian heart.

They're teenaged best friends who fell in love and this scene is just so fluffy and cozy and perfectly reflects their dynamic - they're so obviously head over heels for each other and everything about their relationship feels new and electric and full of possibility, but they've also been love each other forever. Santana's eyes lighting up at Britt holding her hand and Britt being so purely herself and everything about the scene just screams home to me and is the moment the show really became about them to me.

-@grassberry639

One of my favorite scenes is the Breadstix scene with the holding hand under a napkin because I could completely relate to it when I was dating girls that was still not yet 100% ready to come out.

-@charisadrastea

Rumour Has It/Someone Like You- 3x06, “Mash Off”

My other favorite is the Rumour Has It/Someone Like You scene because the performance was so beautiful and haunting.

-@charisadrastea

For me, it was the Adele Mashup (specifically the longing looks exchanged during it). I watched that scene over and over again when I was a kid because I felt like it did a great job of truly encapsulating what it's like to have feelings that you desperately want to pursue but can't do to your surroundings. The whole thing really stuck with me.

Naya's performance felt so genuine and, throughout that entire song, you could really feel what Santana was going through as a closeted lesbian who was terrified of losing everything. And the fact that Brittany was so close during the whole performance and, yet, instead of her singing one of the lead parts with her, they just exchange looks. I just thought it did a great job of expressing a trapped feeling.

-@aaverageperson

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face- 3x10, “Yes/No”

My favourite Brittana scene would be the small flashback when the girls are singing The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.

Santana sees Brittany’s face for the first time and she melts.

Their smiles are so soft and I love the instant connection they both have.

-@mostlygleethoughts

My favourite Brittana moment happens when Santana is singing, The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face. She sings the line, “I felt your heart so close to mine,” while a flashback of her and Brittany in the locker room plays. I get teary-eyed whenever I watch this scene. The love between them is so beautiful, and it’s so refreshing to see genuine sapphic love portrayed on screen.

-@sapphicbrittana

Cherish/Cherish- 3x13, “Heart”

It took me so long to decide on what my favorite Brittana scene is but i ultimately decided on the scene at the end of Heart. It’s just such a sweet moment for them. They are openly going on a date and even kiss in front of other people without caring about what anyone might say. They have come so far from the beginning of their relationship and it is just lovely to see them be so happy with each other.

-@sugarcarnation

Ok so my second favorite scene is in 3x13 when Santana asked the god squad to sing a song for Britt. So the scene at Breadstick at the end and the kiss they shared after Cherish/Cherish is just beautiful. Seeing Santana being so proud to call Brittany her girlfriend and singing her song for her is everything to me. Also Britt’s reaction was too cute. The love in her eyes when Joe told them the god squad was going to perform for her is the cutest thing ever. The kiss they shared at the end of the song was so passionate and it gives me butterflies every time I see the scene. It was also the first Brittana kiss we saw onscreen.

-@chloesnix2b

I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)- 3x17, “Dance With Somebody”

"Watching Heather dance is fun in this number, I never get tired of watching her dance."- Naya (BTS Dance With Somebody)

"They put us in twinzies outfits. We've been singing to each other like crazies"- Heather (BTS Dance With Somebody)

My favourite Brittana scene would have to be dance with somebody (the song). I love how happy they both are and how much fun they’re having together!!! The context is romantic, but they’re also having fun as best friends, which is the root of their relationship. I just think it’s really sweet and I’m a sucker for happy pretty ladies dancing around and making each other ridiculously happy. That’s all!!!

-@kurtanaaa

Tongue Tied- 3x21, “Nationals”

Q: What’s your favourite Brittana moment? A: The slow motion celebration smooch when we won Nationals

-Naya (Twitter Q&A 2012)

Mine- 4x04, “The Break Up”

It might seem strange, to choose a breakup scene for a couple's best. It's a scene that broke thousands of hearts and continues to make us cry, even after having seen the whole journey unfold and even after knowing that Brittana will, in the end, be okay. But to me, it's a scene that encapsulates much of what I love about these two and what they mean to each other. "Sophomore year, I used to sit in this back row and secretly watch you. I counted the number of times you'd smile at me, and I'd die on days that you didn't." Half the reason why I chose this scene is this quote. The sheer power of it still shakes me whenever I hear Santana utter these words. The sincerity behind them makes me stop and truly consider what it is she’s saying. It’s a summary of their journey so far. It’s a moment of incredible vulnerability, the confession of a girl who fell in love with her best friend and was terrified of the consequences of that love. Not as much as she was terrified of what it would mean to not be loved back, though.

But Brittany loves Santana with the same passion, even if it manifests differently. It’s why she holds on as long as she can and why it’s even harder for Santana to face their issues. Because you see, I understand that many dislike the reasoning behind their breakup and that it only happened here because everyone else was doing it. But there’s something so deeply caring about the way they consciously make the decision not to hurt each other by leaving themselves in this in-between state of long-distance relationships. Something so genuine about the way they say they would never cheat on each other but also something so mature in realizing that they can’t be what the other needs right now. That, to me, displays such a pure form of love. As pure as catching glances and counting smiles in the back row. As pure as words of encouragement and saying to someone: I'm yours.

Even though they were already inseparable in sophomore year, Brittany smiling at Santana during Glee practice is an intimate moment that meant everything to her. And even though it hurts, Santana letting go of Brittany before they can even think of hurting each other is such a deep declaration of love. What makes it bittersweet yet hopeful instead of just being heart-shattering is the way Santana turns the otherwise optimistic and romantic song “Mine” into a sad one, creating one of the show’s most gorgeous solo performances in the process. Because when she sings Brittany is the best thing that’s ever been hers, we all know it was true in sophomore year, it is true now and it will be on the day they exchange vows. Because Santana’s right when she sings they’re gonna make it, even if it takes a while. Even if they are (and we are) crying right now, even if it takes a few more days of dying in the absence of Brittany’s smile lighting up her world. Because even when they’re breaking up, Brittana reaffirm that they’ll always love each other the most.

-@tuiyla

Santana Walks Brittany Out Of The Auditorium One Last Time- 4x22, “All Or Nothing”

“I really liked the moment in the last episode, when we knew that Brittany was going away and it was a really sad vibe and Santana showed up and just took her hand and walked her off, I thought that was sweet.”- Naya (Perez Hilton 2013)

Valerie- 5x12, “100”

My favorite scene by a pretty wide margin is “Valerie” from “100”. It’s got that palpable backstage chemistry that Naya and Heather had that shone through so clearly in season 1, it’s poetically choreographed, and the songs even more lyrically significant than before.

I believe that Santana and Brittany are at their best and most smitten when they’re doing what Naya and Heather love the most: singing and dancing, respectively. This is no exception. Just look at Brittany trying not to smile at the beginning. When the shot is on her after Santana starts to sing, you can see her face change from smiles to grimace as if she had forgotten herself. You can’t tell me Heather didn’t break there for a second.

Every little mannerism throughout the whole sequence is laced with that fun, alarmingly pure energy. It could’ve been just excellent acting, but it felt so real. And why wouldn’t it? Naya had to learn Heather’s dance from “Sectionals”. Watching your best friend pull off some of your most iconic moves and then joining in, that’s gotta be fun.

Yeah, Santana’s dancing the choreography from their sectionals with Mike. Within the capacity of an untrained dancer, of course. She’s trying to get Brittany back into the groove by dancing probably the most involved number that the New Directions have ever done. And one that Brittany probably had the most fun with because she choreographed it with Mike. That’s some good writing. And it works, and it’s cute, but once Brittany joins in, the sequence deviates from the original.

We get this just wonderful moment of Brittany dancing solo centerstage fully embracing her passion. After she gets her moment, she and Santana dance either with each other swing-style or towards each other. You can’t forget about that embrace at the end when Santana sort of dips her. They’re not even back together at this point. Santana doesn’t want to get back together at this point. But I feel like I’m watching them dancing at their wedding 3 hours into the reception.

And I mean what an appropriate song to use given the circumstance. “Valerie” is about missing an ex after coming back to your hometown. When we heard Santana solo it at sectionals, it wasn’t super meaningful. It was an excellent way to show off Santana’s vocals and Brittany and Mike’s choreography somewhat independently. But here? Let’s talk about line distribution.

First verse, Santana sings solo. Notably, Brittany is harmonizing behind her piecemeal. By the chorus, she’s joined with Santana fully. Second verse, she’s soloing, joining the dance and by the end they’re dancing together. They’re singing and dancing about missing each other together.

But the song’s not my favorite part. Not even the dance. Not really. My favorite part is the culmination. Santana and Brittany are participating in each other’s disciplines and passions.

That’s an awesome couple right there. They went from singing and dancing somewhat removed from each other to singing and dancing with each other, and even when they were broken up, they still shared their respective passions with each other effortlessly.

-@leatherzaddy on Reddit

My favorite Brittana scene is Valerie S5. It just feels so significant to me that Santana chose this particular song to get Britt out of her funk. Valerie is special to both of them, it’s the first competition solo Santana ever got and it was the first time we ever got to witness the dance skills of one Brittany S. Pierce.

It was the first time Brittany got to show off how talented she was and how she was so much more than the dumb blonde everyone thought she was. Now, however, no one thinks she’s dumb. Now everyone sees her as just another statistic for MIT.

Santana, however, sees right through that and sees her for who she really is - not dumb, not just a genius, but Brittany, the girl who loves to dance. So Santana picks the same song from the first time Brittany got to show off her dancing to prove to her once again that dancing is what she’s meant to do.

-@hopefulobjectmiracle

Churros Kiss- 5x12, “100”

The infamous churros scene lives in my head rent free. Why? Because we saw a level of confidence in Brittany that we had never seen before and, in that moment, we were all rooting for her for giving us what we knew was right and what we knew we needed. The fans knew Brittana was endgame, Brittany knew, and we just sat back and waited for Santana to realize it as well. (Let’s give her credit: she knew.) We had waited 1.5 seasons for more and we finally got it, mouthful of churros and all.

I love this scene because we see Santana and Brittany a bit older and a lot wiser; Brittany knows that after all the time they had spent apart, Santana is the only one she really wants and she felt like she needed to tell her, to show her, before it was too late. I feel like everything Brittany did in this scene was very spontaneous and on a whim, and it makes it that much hotter.

The kiss. It’s my favorite kiss between the couple by a mile. Brittany put her heart on her sleeve and risked everything and just went in for the kill. You can see the twinkle in her eye right before she leaned in and she didn’t hesitate to show Santana what she wanted. I do appreciate Santana’s hesitancy because of their storyline at the time, but I don’t doubt for a second that she didn’t want Brittany back, too. She was just incredibly cautious, and no doubt, caught by surprise. They had been through so much and had finally found a place in their friendship/relationship where scars were healing and hearts weren’t as broken as before.

You can see in the way Santana looks at her after being kissed, the way in which she listens to her, that the wheels in her head are already turning. We know she knows what Brittany is saying is true. She just has to process what this means for her, for them, for her life back in New York. She’s just putting the scattered puzzle pieces back together, but she knows what the picture already looks like.

The kiss on the cheek? The delicious cherry on top. Brittany, having already been pushed away, one again doubled down on how she felt and so quickly, and respectfully, reminded Santana of that. You can see Santana’s breath hitch during this moment when their faces are so close together, and it’s obvious that her love for Brittany never wavered. As she always was, smitten is her middle name.

Brittana’s entire relationship from S1-S6 can be summed up, for me, with one infamous line spoken by Brittany during the churros scene, “You can’t recreate what you and I have.”

-@TheWednesdayProject on Reddit

The Lilies Scene- 5x13, “New Directions”

I will always remember being a curious and scared teenager. I was almost in high school when Brittana became official and it suckerpunched me. The fear, the anxiety, the angst, the love, all of it was so relatable. Brittana had so many trials and tribulations and they always came out better and stronger both as individuals as a couple. My favorite Brittana scene is the lily scene because it was the beginning of them consciously choosing each other. The growth <3

-@yesandmusicals

My favorite Brittana scene is when Brittany fills the room with lilies for Santana. It really proves that the connection between them is incredibly strong and they understand each other better than anyone else. Their chemistry is off the charts and you can really feel their love for each other through the screen. The way Santana sinks into Brittany like she’s coming home and the way Britt runs her fingers up and down Santana’s arm <3 Everything about it is perfect.

-@santinacedes

I think my favorite Brittana scene is the one in 5x13, where Brittany fills the choir room with lilies for Santana, because that was the biggest time when I could truly feel their love for one another and their support of each other.

-@allweseeisskyforever

The Bedroom Scene- 6x03, “Jagged Little Tapestry”

It's hard to pick one favorite scene because I just love them all. But I'm gonna go with the scene that made me the happiest and that's the bedroom scene before the proposal because it's such an intimate moment between the two of them. They talk about their future together, about how happy they are and of course "I will love you until infinity". I've wanted a scene like that since I started shipping them in season 2. And watching that scene for the first time was one of the happiest moments in my life. And when I'm feeling down I just watch this scene again and everything gets better.

-@brittanaaresoulmates13

Santana proposes to Brittany- 6x03, “Jagged Little Tapestry

My fav Brittana scene is the proposal bc it means so much to both of them. It takes place where they fell in love and there’s so many parts in the song that remind me so much of their past

-@arf128

My favourite Brittana scene is probably Santana proposing to Brittany because the number they do before is fire🔥 and BRITTANA GETS ENGAGED!!

-@pennywarbler

Hallway Scene- 6x06, “What The World Needs Now”

I LOVE THE ‘did I ever tell you that I love you’ MOMENT. The little kiss and the way Santana nudges her head in Brittany’s neck. I love the whole episode, it’s so powerful and as a lesbian I really felt seen and represented.

I love that Santana reminds Brittany of heaven. I love that Brittany loves Santana so unconditionally, that she would do anything to see her happy. Brittany knows that Santana is super happy right now, but she also knows that she really misses her abuela and that she’s sad she’s not coming to the wedding. Britt’s really doing her best for Santana, and that really shows how much she loves her.

I love that we see Santana’s vulnerable side in this episode and I love to see Brittany’s protective side (especially during and after Alfie). Although abuela said she wasn’t coming, I love how the episode ended because it really shows how much Santana has grown and how much love she has in her life right now.

-@sapphosongbird

Brittany Confronts Santana’s Abuela- 6x06, “What The World Needs Now”

After Santana sings “Alfie” to Abuela López as if her life depended on it in hopes that her Abuela would be a part of her life again, we have my favorite Brittana moment. At first, Abuela is confused and shocked to find out that she’s been tricked into seeing Santana sing. Brittany quickly confessed that she did trick her and informed Abuela, but also informed Abuela not only that she is Santana’s fiancée but that she loves her so much that she would do anything for her. Santana is quick to look at Abuela to gauge her reaction. Santana is hoping she has an opportunity to explain and to try to make her see how much she loves and needs Abuela in her life. Santana brings up how much Abuela means to her and how much being raised by this woman has made her a strong woman.

It’s likely that Abulea immigrated from another country. Like many children from immigrant families, they know the sacrifices their family took to her there. Santana likely heard from father (as i think Alma is her paternal grandmother) about the importance of doing good in school (and her education as she values it) and likely heard stories about the many jobs her grandma took. Likely those that are stereotypical like agricultural work, working in restaurants, or working as a cleaning lady. Jobs that were all she could get because of the limits society places on her (Abuela). ( Santana really admires this woman. She lets her know how much in the coming out scene. )

Santana embraces being Latina and holds no apology for being so, and admits that she is bigger and better than the limits society places on her. Santana wants to continue to be bigger and better. She admits that she can’t (or doesn’t want to) do that without Brittany and Abuela. Santana feels she simply exists without them. Perhaps also saying that they give her the strength she needs to be bigger and better. She is oh so hopeful that reminding her of all that will make her Abuela come along.

Unfortunately, it is not enough for Abuela. She reminds Santana that she loves her, but not enough to attend the stop following her beliefs. She adamantly says that girls marry boys and not other girls. It’s a sin in Abuela’s eyes, and she refuses to attend the wedding. What happens next in this scene makes me so proud of Santana. Before this moment, Santana was this scared little girl who hid behind this HBIC persona. In short, Santana struggled to love and accept herself. She dated guys for status. She rejected Brittany for so long and told her she was using her and didn’t love her. She had beards and even wrote a song about a boy. She had confessed to Brittany that she was scared about all the talks and looks she would get from others. She hid her feelings and love for Brittany and pushed her away into another person's arms. While doing so, she was more angry and miserable than she had ever been. She had to witness the girl she loved more than anything be with someone else because she was too scared, and it hurt her. It would take some more time for her to embrace herself fully. Even then, she didn’t have much choice. She was forced into accepting herself because she was outed to everyone in her school, in Lima, and in Ohio (and anyone who stumbled across that campaign ad online). Still, she did eventually get there. It was not easy for her at all, but she got there. She was happy. She surrounded herself with the love of her friends. She grew as a person. She became friendlier, was happier, and she allowed herself to love others (Brittany, Dani). Moving to New York was scary for her, but she did it anyway (with a little shove from Brittany (again, she thinks they helped to make her bigger and better). She helped her friends get a job, auditioned for Broadway, went to auditions, held various jobs, and attended school.

Santana remembered how Abuela taught her to be bigger and better than her school, her city, and her state would ever allow her to be when she was in New York. She was even bigger and better than the limits she had placed on herself, especially when she was in high school. She was determined to make something of herself. Sometimes even doing things that weren’t even her dream.

No matter the years that had passed, Brittany knew that despite Santana saying she was okay and choosing Brittany over everyone, including the woman that meant so much to her, Santana still missed her Abuela. In this scene, unlike the last time when Santana bravely confessed to Abuela about her feelings and was gay by herself, Brittany was there alongside Santana. Brittany quickly stepped in to protect the woman she loved. Despite being upset that things aren’t going as they had hoped, she puts on a brave face and tells Abuela that it is okay if she doesn’t go. With a smile and some spunk, Brittany tells Abuela they don’t want her there. Santana is surprised that Brittany spoke up at first, too.

Brittany, who usually is kind and sweet, had her claws out. She used her genius mind to give statistical facts she’d read about to tell Abuela off. Usually, Santana would know not to speak to Abuela in such a manner. This is likely because Santana knows better. Her Abuela likely taught her to respect her elders or at least always to respect her. When Brittany finishes talking, Abuela expects Santana to apologize and stick up for her, but to Alma’s surprise, Santana doesn’t. Instead, Santana, the girl who was scared to tell her Abuela she was gay because she feared losing her, stood by Brittany, the woman she loved and who had told her Abuela to go on and love herself in a way Santana likely never has and would never dare to.

Santana doesn’t just defend Brittany or stands by her. Santana refers to her relationship with Brittany as love. She uses their love as an example of what love is. Santana, the girl who told Brittany she didn’t love her and that she was nothing more than just sex because Puck was in the slammer, the girl who refused to talk about feelings, and the girl who panicked when Rachel referred to their duet as sapphic romance, told her Abuela that what she and Brittany share is love. She uses the words “real love” to describe their relationship and what they had.

The choice of Santana words is significant. Likely, Abuela empathized the importance of love when it came to family (even if Santana experienced a lot of tough love from Abuela, her dad, and likely other family members like her mom.) all her life. Santana likely had seen a lot of it.

The choice of the word “real” may indicate just how deeply Santana was hurt when Abuela disowned her. We did see her cry in season 3 when Santana came out to her. Still, the choice of words makes me think that Santana felt deceived about family sticking together and loving each other no matter what (something Abuela mentions in this very same episode in the Queso Por Dos segment) because of how quickly things changed when she came out. All it took was a confession and a few seconds for that love to disappear.

It’s possible she viewed what she knew as love before, as fake love, or love that was not unconditional. Santana choosing to use “real love” to describe her relationship with Brittany is Santana saying, “We stick together and love each other unconditionally, unlike you and I or my own blood.”

Santana then says that Brittany is her family. Again, Santana reminds us that she chooses Brittany over anyone. Again, she’s touching on her previous statement that she and Brittany are an example of “real love” or (as Santana believes with all her heart) a family that sticks together and loves each other no matter what. This is a big deal for Santana.

She is coming full circle because, in the early seasons, Brittany didn’t always come first. She often came second or last to status, beards, prom queen, people’s opinions, etc.

Santana, a girl that misses Abuela, the person she wishes would love her again, has reached a point in her life where she loves herself and Brittany so much that she no longer needs her Abuela or her support, love, and approval. Santana knows she has a lot of that already. A lot, a lot.

The next part in this scene is parallel to Abuela and Santana’s previous scene some years prior from season 3 when Santana comes out to her. In season 3, Abuela told Santana to leave her house with no other word after Santana came out. Despite Santana’s pleas, Abuela had had the final say. In this scene, things are different. Instead of faltering and hiding, Santana puts her foot down and stands her ground. She keeps her head high and has the final say (something that I believe Abuela taught her when teaching her how to be bigger and better than what the world was going to give her permission to be), and Abuela had no choice but to walk away without another word.

To finish this scene, Santana leans into Brittany. Brittany comforts her (like I’m sure Brittany did the first time Santana came into Abuela the moment she could (which I believe was as soon as Santana got into her car where Britt was waiting (just in case Abuela wanted to meet her))). Santana knows she can count on Brittany. She is her family now. They stick together and love each other no matter what, even if it means being disappointed when things don’t go as planned.

Had Abuela and Santana never made up, I would have been completely okay with it because this scene shows a lot of growth in Santana.

It makes me feel so proud of Santana. She cared so much about others' approval. She had been so scared of her feelings for Brittany that she let herself be miserable and made others feel that way, too. Santana ended up being bigger and better than the limits she and society places on her. In doing so, she learned to accept and love herself, Brittany, and their family. Proudly so. While she wanted Abuela in her life, she decided to let Abuela go and instead surround herself with her new family, one that had plenty of “true love.” A lot, a lot.

That is freaking beautiful, and I absolutely love it.

(Also, protective Britt is 😍🥰).

-@lylyluvda916

Pre-Wedding Scene- 6x08

Q: Favourite Glee scene ever? A: My wedding! -Naya (Twitter Q&A 2015)

“My favourite scene to film was the wedding with me and Naya. It’s just a beautiful memory that I am so thankful I have during this time. It happened at the same time as I was getting married, and it just felt like a double wedding, if you will, because that was the title of the episode. It just kind of summed up our entire relationship on the show and it felt so real, and so magical, to do that with one of my best friends.”- Heather (Cameo 2015)

After too much thinking, I’ve decided that my favorite Brittana scene is the pre wedding when they’re getting ready and Britt freaks out because Santana sees her before the wedding, thinking it’s a bad luck thing. And then Santana says to her that rules don’t apply to them and that they make their own luck. After that they kiss in the most perfect way. It’s my favorite because by saying that to Brittany, Santana made it clear that no matter what traditions say or people believe, everyone can choose how to be happy.

-@awesome-shipper

My favourite Brittana scene would have to be just the whole wedding episode if i’m being honest aha (i love all the Brittana scenes lol its soo hard to choose haha) because it shows that love is love and that anyone can get married if you love one another doesn’t have to be man and women, it can be women and women or even man and man! Love is love! I love the episode also because they are just soo cute in it lol, like Brittany having all the pre wedding worries and then Santana calming her down, ahhh its just soo cute aha.

-@elmamacca

It’s so ridiculously hard to pick my favourite Brittana scene, when they all mean so much. Each one means something different for them in terms of their story. Though they may lack screen time compared to other couples on the show, their scenes are filled with so many firsts. First time Santana admits her feelings, first time they mention their officially dating, first kiss, first I love you in a relationship when they're both happy...so they’re each special for different reasons. Even the break up has Santana admit for the first time that she had feelings for Brittany way back in Sophomore year (S1). Something that was implied but never verbalised before that point.

It's hard to pin it down to just one. I love 2x15 for the obvious reasons of getting to see Santana admit what was already clear to see. That she loved Brittany. Seeing her finally admit that was just really poignant for me.

Landslide and Songbird hold such special places in my heart. The bravery. The love. Everything. I felt it all.

Heart was the fluff we so sorely craved for 3 seasons, and they finally we got it in the best way, and we got our first on screen kiss (3 times over).

5x12/5x13 had me feeling euphoric because finally after a season of absolute crap they finally got back together. The kiss was amazing, and we got to see Brittany lay it all on the line for Santana and make it clear who her top choice always was deep down.

6x03 was like a treasure trove of pure joy. The softest bed scene ever which I love for, my fav duet from them and ofc the proposal. Seeing Santana so boldly (I felt so proud of her in this moment) declare her love for Brittany in front of everyone (something she once thought she'd never be able to do), and for Brittany to be able to see that after their rocky start of "I'm not making out with you because I'm in love with you and want to sing about making lady babies", was everything! The call backs to Landslide were just ugh, and it really showed how far they had come. Santana’s speech and how nervous she is, plus Britt’s tears and the way she snatches the ring, lives in my head rent free.

6x06 is also like, incredible, and one of my fav ever Brittana episodes. Just the whole damn episode and how domesticated they are, Santana’s bravery, Brittany’s protectiveness, all the soft af dialogue that looks like it’s been plucked straight from a fanfic. The “did I ever tell you that I love you?” “tell me again” scene is one of my all time favourite scenes from them ever, and I can’t with how utterly adorable and playful and in love they are. Essentially, my love for the ship holds no bounds so there are too many “fave scenes” to count. Truthfully, I could write an in-depth analysis about every single one one of their scenes and how it touched me in some way, but I think if I had to pick just one I'd go with 6x08 the pre-wedding scene.

It's their last major "two-shot" scene and I honestly think it captures everything. Not only is it just contextually sweet the way Santana can't wait any longer to see Brittany and the words that she says, and the way Brittany is nervously freaking out, it ties up a lot of their story. Santana says with confidence "you love me, and I love you" after what seems like a lifetime of self-doubt, finally she knows Brittany loves her and no longer has to question that. This is the same girl who begged Brittany to say she loved her back as a scared closeted teenager, and now she's standing in front of her on their wedding day knowing that Brittany loves her without even needing to hear it. But regardless we do get an "I love you so much" from Brittany, unprovoked by Santana, which again is a callback to that heartbreaking 2x15 scene. It was all Santana ever wanted to hear back then, now she gets to hear it so freely on their wedding day. Their wedding day guys!? Nothing can ever top that for me, for them to have that ending to such a imperfectly perfect story, after all the erasure, the angst, the break-up, seeing them with other people, watching Brittany go off to MIT and thinking yep...this ship is done because Heather's never coming back now.

The way Santana manages to calm Brittany and make her see clearly, is everything, and it really shows that yin/yang dynamic that I love so much about them.

Being someone who felt like I was living vicariously through them and seeing them get the ending of all endings and get married which is such a rarity (or certainly was at the time) for WLW ships was EVERYTHING. There's also the kiss (my fav kiss of there's) and the fact that moments later Abuela comes in and finally makes amends with Santana. It was the perfect, happy, full circle ending to a rollercoaster of a story, and nothing will ever get more satisfying than that.

-@chooseyouovereveryone

Full List Of Scenes & YouTube Links

Brittany & Santana Talk To Holly Holliday About Their Feelings

Landslide

Hurt Locker

Songbird

Heart Locker

Officially Dating

Rumour Has It/Someone Like You

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

Cherish/Cherish

I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)

Tongue Tied

Mine

Santana Walks Brittany Out Of The Auditorium One Last Time

Valerie

Churros Kiss

The Lilies Scene

The Bedroom Scene

The Proposal

The Hallway Scene

Brittany Confronts Santana’s Abuela

Pre-Wedding Scene

Top 5 Scenes

Each of them had 3 responses each.

Landslide

Hurt Locker

Songbird

Lilies Scene

Pre-Wedding Scene

Season Breakdown

Season 2, Season 3, Season 6 (5 scenes each)

Season 5 (3 scenes)

Season 4 (1 scene)

Season Popularity By Number Of Responses

Season 2 (12 responses)

Season 3 (9 responses)

Season 6 (8 responses)

Season 5 (6 responses)

Season 4 (1 response)

Thank you all so much for reading, participating, sharing etc. I really hope you’ve enjoyed it!

#brittana #brittany and santana #glee #gleeks #glee brittana #glee brittany #glee santana #santana lopez #brittany s.pierce #brittany pierce #rumours #10yearsofbrittana #10yearsofrumours #brittana fan project #brittany x santana

112 notes · View notes

norabrice1701 · 4 years ago

Text

An Offer Received - Part VI

A Jaguar Villain Tom Hiddleston Character (Thomas Conrad) fanfic

Pairing: Thomas Conrad x Fem!reader

Summary: Life underwater reveals the grand plan and...victory?

Rating: Sexual content NSFW smut (more sensual than explicit, but still please be ye warned), controlling behavior, f-bombs, discussion of violence happening out-of-scene, Conrad being Conrad

Previously: Part V - 5 Days

A/N: And we come to the end! Hopefully the loose economics isn’t too off-putting and semi-plausible (at least for this version of a modern world ha). Thank you to everyone who’s read and enjoyed!

GIF credit to the original poster via the Tumblr search!

Part VI - 5 Empires

As best you could figure, there were three compartment rooms exclusive for your and Conrad’s use. The first was the combined living room and your office. The second was a smaller room, connected to your office, that served as Conrad’s office – his nerve center, as you came to think of it. The third room was a single bedroom with a bed just big enough for two; built-in wardrobe and drawers lining the walls; and a small, functional bathroom. Or head, as the onboard sailors called it.

Beyond those three compartments, your movements were fairly limited and presided over by the seemingly indifferent crew that moved around you. “Miss Fox”, they all called you, inclining their heads politely when you passed or encountered them in the wardroom. Fortunately, no one waited on you hand and foot. You had free reign in the wardroom for food, coffee, and snacks. Hell, you suspected you might gain weight on this voyage with no chance to run or get any real exercise. At least the clothes that had been provided for you were surprisingly practical – suits with both trousers and skirts, tasteful blouses, silken cami and shorts sleepwear – all perfectly in your size.

Between working and surfing channels on the TV, you kept busy enough. It was still surprising that wireless internet or satellite or whatever it was worked so seamlessly underwater for all digital connections during your voyage.

Now that you were trapped with him underwater, living day-to-day, sharing a bed every night...it was disturbingly domestic and not. He still hadn’t told you much that was practical about anything, other than how to operate the shower controls.

You’d thought that, surely, now that you were here with him and no means of escape - maybe you would finally be privileged to know the grand plan. But you didn’t even know where the submarine was heading. You didn’t have your passport, but somehow you didn’t think that would be a problem whenever you arrived. But if this was his big move - or if he was making big moves - then would you at least be privileged to know if he won? Or if he lost?

That thought sat funny with you. If he lost. Of course, it was possible and, in fact, quite probable. Supervillains bent on world domination never won in the movies or comic books. But did you really consider Conrad a supervillain?

Hard to say.

He didn’t act much differently. He’d always walked and stood with the authority that he owned the world. With LOKI, he certainly had, and nothing about that had changed now. His cool, controlled demeanor had yet to slip, even though you spent a lot more concentrated time around him. At first, you feared what the single bed in the one bedroom would herald, but until last night, he’d been an unexpectedly, perfect gentleman. And even then, he’d only given you what you all but took from him.

You hadn’t meant to wake up. But the motion of the bed as he slid beneath the sheets stirred you. His scent enveloped you, always so enticing. Your hand reached out in a sleepy haze, settling to the hard plane of his chest, fingers tangling in the light scatter of hair. The heat of his body permeated the air, a welcome contrast to the chill of the submarine’s filtered air. Your head drifted on the pillow, only wanting to curl closer.

His minty breath fanned your face as a warm, solid hand covered yours, pressing it flat against his skin. Arousal suffused you, warm and rolling. Your legs twitched against the sheets, brushing his coarse leg hair. His nose skimmed yours as you breathed him in.

When your lips met his, there was no resistance. No illusion. Half-lucid drowsiness had given way to aching want, and he groaned softly as you rolled atop him. His hand rose to frame your face, angling you deeper into the kiss as his other hand drifted down your spine. You moaned, low and breathy, as tongues tangled and you felt his arousal grow against you. Without realizing it, your hips started to roll in slow, teasing waves.

In a fluid, tender motion you were on your back with the heat of his body everywhere above you. Those nimble fingers caressed your breast through the silk of your cami as he angled his hips to let you slide down his sleep shorts. Yours went next and you whimpered at the feel of him, hard and heavy, against your core. With no words, no questions, he pushed inside, burying to the hilt before setting a slow, steady pace.

He brushed that secretive, intense place within you on each stroke, tearing raw moans from your throat. Tears stung your eyes, overwhelmed and overcome, as he continued to move, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back. His forehead rested against yours, noses nuzzling as you each gasped and moaned your shared pleasure. With the deep slide of him inside and the press of him outside, it didn’t take long until your release burst in blinding euphoria.

And you did the unthinkable. Words slipped from your lips before you could even think.

“Oh, Tom….”

You didn’t realize what you’d said until later. Much later. After he’d told you not to wash away the evidence of your shared passion. After you’d fallen asleep, curled into him, despite the tacky moisture pooling between your thighs. After you’d woken to see the sheets stained beyond reuse. After he’d brought enough breakfast and coffee for two as you each dressed for the day.

And now...now, you braced for his response. For his inevitable retaliation for the liberties you took, either with his given name or his person. He’d never given you permission to call him ‘Tom’.

You blew another sigh, distracted from your work yet again. And all of that was to say nothing of even beginning to analyze what drove you into his arms at the late night hour in the first place. Was this the beginning of some twisted captivity dependency? Where you were just that desperate for human contact that you turned to your captor?

Not quite. He hadn’t abducted you. You could have pitched a fit, refused to go, and likely wound up in the bottom of the harbor along with your watch. But you didn’t. You were here.

The VI on the bottom of your foot throbbed.

But the hours continued to progress, and it proved just another day under the water.

Until it wasn’t. Until he lounged on the couch, oddly close to you, oddly relaxed. His tie had disappeared, along with his suit jacket. The top buttons of his dark shirt revealed a tease of skin, and his sleeves were cuffed just above his elbows. He sipped from a highball of scotch as you nursed your wine. The TV droned mindlessly on global news, current events.

“It’s been four days,” you started softly, “are we still planning to arrive tomorrow?”

He took a slow sip of scotch. “Yes.”

“Is that when I’ll learn more?”

He cut you with a wry, sideways look. “Don’t you want to maintain some plausible deniability?”

You bristled. Sure, you’d thought of that, but you didn’t like the insulation on his voice. You weren’t ready for him to make a rash decision on your behalf and cut off your left foot. “At this point…after last night – difficult to deny I’m not a willing participant in your coup or revolution or whatever you’re terming it.”

“It’s neither of those things.” He paused for another mouthful of scotch. “Certainly nothing so dramatic. Dramatic change invites a dramatic response, which does no one any good. Subtlety is key until the moment of revel.”

You couldn’t hold back a soft snort. “Until you…what? Rise out of the water on a fountain of righteousness?”

“Nothing so fantastical. The dominoes will start to fall tomorrow. You’ll see.”

You took another drink of wine, debating pushing your luck. Why not? “I thought you might be angry, or...displeased after last night.”

He hummed softly, his eyes darting up and down your torso as he raised a hand to his mouth, teasing his thumb with his front teeth . “Now, why would you think that?”

“No one calls you ‘Thomas’, let alone ‘Tom’.” You weren’t going to mention that conversation with Amelia. “I just want to know if I should be on my guard for you to corner me against the bulkhead for another of your so-called ‘lessons’.”

“In the dark of night with you warming my bed so freely, you’ll find little behind closed doors that displeases me. However, should such an incident bleed over into the daylight, that will be a different discussion.”

You blinked, doubting you heard him right. “That...that’s it?”

He turned to you with a distantly annoyed expression. “I’ve told you before - you’re not one for trite questions. You have what you have. And soon…,” his lips curled in a wolfish smile, “we’ll have the world.”

You’re not sure how you slept that night, but you did. You did, and you worked until he interrupted you, switching on the news.

“Alright, thank you, Adam.” The anchor turned back to face the main camera. “Again, to recap - if you’re just joining us - we’re 14 hours into what’s already being called the most massive market shakeup in history. The trend started in the Japan Exchange Group - the world’s 3rd largest financial market. A trickle of sales and acquisitions that grew to cascading proportions, with far-reaching impacts into the Shanghai, Hong Kong, and Shenzhen Stock Exchanges. Financial analysts are now reporting the moves permeated across these markets now have spread through the Bombay Stock Exchange, and are starting to manifest in Euronext. We have our own analyst, Ted Marshall, joining us now. Hello, Ted.”

The newscast split screens, and a spectacled man in a frumpy suit joined the anchor. “Hello, yes - as you said - the financial world has never seen movement of this magnitude. And, to be clear, we’re talking about movements of tectonic proportions that have left investors around the globe scratching their heads and frantically trying to keep up.”

“As we’ve already seen, six of the ten largest markets in the world have already been impacted. What risk do you see for the remaining four markets?”

“I don’t think it’s a risk at all - I think it’s a predictable reality. Pinhole leaks precede a tsunami wave breaching a seawall. We’ve already seen those pinhole streams flow from one market to the next as trading floors open and then the big wave hits. It’s as if someone has found the thread that unites all of the world’s major markets, and is following that thread across the time zones, pulling to unravel and create something new.” Ted shook his head, as if in disbelief. “The world’s top ten stock markets control almost 80% of the global wealth. If what we’re seeing continues on through the UK and US based markets, then we could be looking at the largest redistribution and consolidation of wealth in history.”

You stared at the TV, nearly agape. This was unreal...it had to be. It didn’t make sense - how could....?

A cold chill ran down your spine as you glared over at Conrad. Sure, he was normally a man of confident bearing, but the intense pride that suffused his handsome face was unsettling. Slowly, he turned towards you, the corner of his mouth lifting as he spoke. “Admittedly, it was a hard thread to identify.” He muted the TV volume. “It took me years to execute the right contracts, plan the right mergers. And then more time, still, to recruit foot soldiers. But the sales and acquisitions will continue to waterfall through the western markets - until they seize upon the floors of the Nasdaq and New York Stock Exchange, with LOKI emerging a triumphant victor.” He glanced back at the TV with an almost secretive air. “The reporters have it right - the world’s top ten markets do control nearly 80% of the global wealth, and by the time of the closing bell on Wall Street - 75% of that wealth will be directly under my control.”

Your eyes widened. “You’re just...you’re stealing the global wealth to fund your takeover?”

“Did you hear any mention of illegal activity?” He cut back to you with a sharp look. “That’s the beauty of it - all the sales, all of this tectonic movement and consolidation - has been out in the open for everyone and anyone to exploit, given the right resources and strength of will. Surely, I don’t need to remind you that I have both of those fully at my disposal.”

“But that’s...that’s….” Words escaped you as you turned back to the TV, seeing the headlines and stock market numbers on the screen. It was...dammit, it was smart, it was genius...it was terrifying. You forced a swallow. “So, what then? Once you control 75% of the global wealth, what happens then?”

“With 75% of the global economy facing bankruptcy, world leaders will have very little choice. But as I’ve said before, it’s a balance act to prove one has enough bases covered. Economic prowess is not enough to bring the nations into alignment, so it must be supplemented.” He glanced down at his watch, swiping through the touchscreen and pushing a side button.

The TV channel changed to a tactical display - a visual of the world’s continents with major cities marked and identified. Each city had a stock market indicator, tracking the progression of wealth accumulation, and symbols that looked like traffic signals. Most of the cities just had one traffic signal indicator, but some cities like Tokyo and London had two indicators. Washington, D.C. had three indicators. In fact, now that you looked again - all cities had red lights at the top of the indicators, but Tokyo and Beijing’s indicators were yellow.

You gulped, trying to understand. Both Tokyo and Beijing had a full wealth accumulation tracker, so what did the yellow lights represent? You turned to Conrad, his gaze fixed on you, observing your study of the map. “The yellow lights...does that represent your supplement?”

The dark grin that curled his lips didn’t reach his eyes. “It represents an inbound warhead. Two targets in Tokyo and one in Beijing - undetectable by radar, too small for anti-missile defense, and enough firepower to reduce the seats of those governments to smoldering ruins.” He waved at the TV. “With a few strategic hits, the old guard will visibly crumble, paving the way for a new world.”

“That’s monstrous!” You stared at him wide-eyed in disbelief. “Killing all those innocent people!”

“Innocent is a kind word for those who have brought the world to such a state. A few will perish, yes. Such important buildings are never truly empty, even after hours when the majority of its occupants are off basking in the wealth of their reaping.”

“But you can’t…that - that makes you no better than they are.”

“There are only so many ways to get their attention, and in this case - it’s best to speak languages they understand.”

You shook your head, still horrified. “Money and violence.”

“Precisely.”

You wanted to keep admonishing him, yelling at him, and even beg him to stop. Each scenario played out with ultimate futility in your mind. This was his submarine, this was his show, and this was his moment. Nothing in his overbearing arrogance would bend to your wishes that he cease and desist.

So, you watched. You watched the stock market wealth accumulators fill. You watched the traffic signals drop from red to yellow, and ultimately to green. You tried not to think about how many lives each light represented. Occasionally, the TV would revert back to the news - each station overwhelmed with the amount of incoming information, updates on world leaders rushed to safety, financial markets upheaved, buildings exploding into flame in yet another new city.

It was terrible to watch. Terrible, and yet - like a train crash - impossible to look away.

After time, after hours - eventually, the last wealth accumulator peaked. The last signal turned green.

And nothing. Nothing happened. The submarine continued along, just as it always had. Just another day under the water, blissfully oblivious to the destruction raging across the continents above. You’d completely lost track of the hour, feeling a deep bone-weary exhaustion gnaw at you. You couldn’t even recall the last time you’d eaten, your stomach a giant knot from all the anxious news activity.

Still, you watched coverage of the fallout. Unknown numbers of injured, but significantly less than if the buildings had been occupied. And the list of damage was extensive. Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building. The Great Hall of the People. The Kremlin. The Grand National Assembly of Turkey. The Government of India Building. The Palace of Westminster. Buckingham Palace. The White House. The United States Capitol. But you already knew - you’d seen the map.

But then came a breaking announcement. After the twenty-four hours of chaos, everything had fallen still and quiet. No more inbound missiles. No more stock market movement. In fact, the governments of the world were beginning to read the outcome in the settling dust, starting to grasp that the vast wealth of the global economy was no longer theirs to control.

There were too many questions and not enough answers in the chaos - but there was a note. A single message with a concise purpose that arrived at the United Nations conspicuously after the last missile fell.

It brought a request. A request for a meeting. A request to talk through the global situation. And the meeting was due to start within minutes. World leaders from all over the globe planned to call in and listen firsthand to the discussion. And, of course, the origin of the note was untraceable and anonymous.

But you knew who had sent it.

He stood next to you now, dressed in the finest suit of his collection. The crispest cut, the sharpest fit, and the dark navy color did wonders for the crystal blue of his eyes. He looked like a man of power. Like...like the ruler of the world.

He caught your gaze with a sideways smirk before he turned for the door to his office. “Mustn’t be late, you know.”

You exhaled shakily. “So...so, that’s it? It’s over? You...won?”

He paused at the door, turning back for one last glance, steely determination glinting in his eyes. “What other choice do they have?”

The door closed behind him, and you held your breath.

The End

#tom hiddleston #villain #the art of villainy #hiddlesedit #good to be bad #world domination #loki #fanfic #an offer received #wannabe writer #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #not rpf

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reviewer-bot32 · 5 years ago

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Just for the heck of it, I’ve decided to post my favorite ships on my blog, in case anyone cares. :P

Pearlshipping: I can’t say I’m much of a Pokemon fan, but I’ve always had a soft spot for Gen 4. It was a game I grew up with and was my introduction to RPG gameplay. I got into the anime a few years ago when I tried to binge it all. I gave up. However, since then I have watched the entire diamond and pearl saga and I just really love these two. I think the anime did a good job of balancing out their focus and having them share the spotlight. I’m currently doing a watch through of the subbed version and I would definitely recommend it as the superior. Not really for shipping reasons, I just think things come across a lot more natural sounding. In any case, I’m glad I got to see these two grow and support each other.

Dipcifica: My story in this case is the standard one. I didn’t expect it and it had me pleasantly surprised. I loved it’s irony in the context of everything that came before and I was bummed that it wasn’t followed up on in the series proper. I guess I can say that I wasn’t expecting a substantial payoff, simply because I got into Gravity Falls very late in the game (I watched for the first time during the wait for the finale). I will say that I’ve been kind of frustrated that this happened at all. As much as I love this ship, it does bother me that it has all this untapped potential that was brought to our attention only once, and than it presents a much more interesting arc than Dipper’s crush on Wendy. Heck, having it happen after all the stuff with is also a missed opportunity. How much more interesting would it have been to have this dynamic juxtaposed with Dipper’s hopeless crush on Wendy. Something that presents him with a genuine romantic connection against his superficial romantic feelings for Wendy, which only harms his, already, genuine connection with her.

...okay. I think that’s enough rambling. Let’s just move on.

Starco: Oh boy, this one is... complicated. I feel like everyone know that at this point. I’ll start by saying that I stopped watching Star vs. the Forces of Evil shortly after Battle for Mewni. In fact, I’ll tell you I stopped right in the middle of the episode Club Snubbed. I don’t want to knock anyone who likes the direction the show went in, but when I realized the direction they were going, I stopped watching. I knew that, despite the obvious endgame, Starco wasn’t going to happen until the show concluded. Now, I have kept up with what happened on the show, through tumblr, just to make that clear, I’m not completely clueless as to how everything goes down. But, let’s try to keep things focused on what bothered me. First off, I’m someone who wants to see more romance in stories, what I’m tired of, is romantic arcs. To me, it comes off as if the writers are too afraid to actually bring up discussion about romantic relationships. And in this case, Star and Marco relationship, romantic or otherwise, was the emotional core of the first two seasons. That was what the show expected us to care about above anything else, the heavier plot was relegated to other characters, with Star and Marco only intervening on the occasion. Season 3 felt like it was telling me that the plot was what I should have been paying attention to this whole time, even though the main characters are only heavily involved now, and all the plot stuff I did care about was resolved in Battle for Mewni. Now, even Star and Marco’s dynamic is being thrown to the wayside, so what do I have left to care about?

Now, I’ve done all my ranting, let’s try to say some positive stuff about this one. Honestly I find it very similar to Pearlshipping, in that throughout seasons 1 and 2 I thought that the focus was balanced out between the two of them really well. Also, while I had seen this character dynamic play out in Gravity Falls and Wander Over Yonder, I was really interested to see it in a potentially romantic context. So, in the end, this had a lot going for it. And I will definitely commend the show for making me care so much in the first place.

Jesslake: This one is relatively new, even though its whole story has been told. I don’t have a lot to say on this one, I just find it cut and wholesome. I will bring up that this one beats all the others in terms of being interpretive. The Infinity Train crew did a masterful job at keeping it vague enough that the romantic potential isn’t intrusive to those who don’t want to see things in that context. Hat’s off to them.

And, for the sake of having a fifth...

These four: All of them, they transcend all other relationships and I love them all.

#pokeani #pearlshipping #gravity falls #dipcifica #star vs the forces of evil #starco #infinity train #jesslake #wander over yonder

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elikazet · 6 years ago

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It was a mistake. Lena knew it from the beginning, but nonetheless let that happen. It was Supergirl who visited her penthouse last night, except it wasn’t her. She looked like famous national hero, but she was definitely not her. Lena understood it right at the moment she looked in her face. So concentrated, without any hint of smile on familiar lips.

- Morning, - she heard from the left. Lena inhaled deeply before turning around and meeting the sight of ice blue eyes.

Kara Starikov looked at her with cold interest, serious as always.

- I… I need a moment, - Lena murmured and stood up, covering herself with a blanket. It was silly, of course, to act so prudish after they spent night together, but this situation confused her to the core. - Alone.

Starikov didn’t argue like a soldier who used to fulfil a command. She took some of her clothes and left the bedroom without any word. Her red cape laid on the bed untouched.

Lena sighed. Her lack of will made things far more complicated than it was before.

But this version of Supergirl, - Starikov, - she respected Lena. Somehow she had known about Harun-El and experiments that took place in L-corp. But instead of another hysterical scene performed by Supergirl because of synthetic Kryptonite, Starikov expressed her thoughts about this in calm manner.

- You have a rare gift, Lena Luthor, and it would be a crime, if you don’t use it properly.

She radiated another kind of power than Supergirl. The last one had something childish in her, but this version was quite opposite. Strong, confident, dispassionate, Starikov didn’t accuse Lena, but admire her. It was enough to fall for her, to hug, to whisper “bedroom” between the kisses. The only thought that crossed her mind was about how did such powerful and strong could be so tender and soft. She paid attention to every moan, sigh, response she got from almost breathless Lena.

And now Lena looked through the window, half-naked and confused. She saw in the reflection that Starikov was waiting patiently for her in corridor, leaning on the wall.

Lena rubbed her face. She crossed the line of no return this night. It didn’t make any sense to deny and pretend, that nothing happened. She put her old university sweatshirt on the dress, gathered hair at the nape and headed to the kitchen. She had to stop near Starikov for a moment:

- I’ll be waiting for you in the dining room. But you need to put some clothes first, - she said, trying so hard to keep herself from staring on the strong body.

And she failed completely, when minutes later Starikov entered the dining room, wearing gray underwear and tight pants with red seams. The TV on the wall caught her attention with news about original Supergirl. It gave Lena possibility to enjoy beautiful view of firm muscles and great shape of Starikov’s body. Brunette had never had a chance to see Supergirl without costume, but she was sure, that between two of them the Starikov was girl of mighty sinews.

AU with Russian Supergirl Kara Starikov, who treats Lena right.

P.s. Sorry for any possible mistakes.

P.p.s. Tumblr banished the first picture in bed ( who wants to see it can write me in direct

#supergirl #supercorp #kara zor-el #kara danvers #kara starikov #lena luthor #kara x lena #melissa benoist #katie mcgrath #elikazet #elikazetedit

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imaginaryelle · 5 years ago

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Author Interview

Thanks to @dafan7711 for the tag!

Name: Alex (they/them)

Fandoms: MDZS & The Untamed, Marvel Avengers (comics), Good Omens, Dragon Age & Mass Effect, Star Wars & SWTOR, Star Trek, Sherlock Holmes; the list goes on but these are the main ones.

Where You Post: Tumblr and AO3.

Complete: 72 works on AO3; a few (less than 10?) oneshots are only on tumblr.

Incomplete: Posted? I think the closest is these two snippets from my Wangxian Modern Musician AU (1 | 2). Unposted? The well is bottomless.

Coming (hopefully) Soon:

1. Wangxian Modern Musician AU: Wei Wuxian has been out of the live music scene for more than a decade and just happens to land a traveling show with his ex as his first get-back-in-gear gig (thank you, Nie Huaisang). Features include hand massages, yearning in taxis, getting-back-together uncertainties, publicity angst and comfort softness alongside traveling show hi-jinks.

2. MDZS/Abhorsen Fusion: What if. Just stay with me for a second. What if. Lan Wangji was the Clayr-raised Abhorsen who was chosen for the role over any of the Lotus Pier disciples and Wei Wuxian was an Abhorsen-raised free magic necromancer who became more of a free magic creature instead of falling properly into Death? Possibly he can also turn into a rabbit I’m still working on details here but I am. Excite! Thank you for your time; @suspiciouspopsicle and I have a lot of ideas we like to play with for this AU.

3. So Many Wangxian Things Okay, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergent A-Yuan!kidfic, Everything; Also Some Juniors Friendship Things; Possibly Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian Reconciliation While Night Hunting.

Do You Accept Prompts?

Absolutely, though I tend to be focused on one fandom at a time for actually answering them (I try to note what fandom’s at the top of my mind in my tumblr sidebar). Currently, that’s MDZS & The Untamed (shippy stuff-not just wangxian, sibling or family relationships, hurt/comfort, whatever). Also, kissing, hurt/comfort and domestic moment prompts are always likely to be answered fastest. I cannot resist them and am unlikely to build an entire world and accompanying plot and thus get lost for weeks on end.

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write:

Wangxian Modern Musician AU! Which is, as a point, from an anon prompt that I got a bit carried away with.

Favorite Story You Wrote:

What, ever? Hm. I’m going to go with Practical Exercises in Free Will (Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley) today. It’s a choose-your-path fic, which was both challenging and enjoyable to put together. I should definitely do more of those.

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story:

If You Want a Life of Action (SteveTony, Marvel 616, 72k) This was my first Cap-IM BB, and remains my only actual multi-chaptered work of the last … decade or so. May try that format again soon, we shall see.

Story You Were Nervous to Post:

the face and the mask are mirrors, baby (SteveTony, Marvel 616, 16k, mind the tags). This fic is… really really personal for me, and I’d never read anything in fandom that explored gender identity the way I was trying to so I was, in fact, a complete wreck over posting it (I’d also never before written a remix so that compounded things). But the fandom reaction to it has been truly lovely <3.

How You Choose Your Titles:

It depends on how long and complex the story is, I guess. I try to think about what the core concept is, or about phrases/concepts that will tie the beginning and end together, but sometimes I just look up song lyrics and poetry that feel right.

Do You Outline?

This really depends. I do outline for bigger fics (over 15k), and especially for fusions that are bigger because I need to keep track of so many elements at once. Sometimes I will do a pseudo outline of interior vs exterior plots while brainstorming, just to get themes and main plot points recorded. In general I need to just write a certain amount of a story before I can even start an outline though. The act of writing itself helps me figure out more of how I want the story to flow. I am trying to get better at outlining overall, because I’m pretty confident that if I can develop it as a more readily-accessed skill I’ll be able to finish more stories much faster.

I’ll tag (if you want to, no pressure): @somanyjacks-writes, @theflowergirl, @suspiciouspopsicle, @roamingjaguar, and anyone else who’s a writer who wants to join in; please tag me if you do!

Find an easy copy/paste version of these questions here.

#about alex #tag games

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takadasaiko · 5 years ago

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Always Been You (A Tony fix-it fic)

Fantastic... apparently updating a tag caused tumblr to eat the entire chapter? Let’s try this again.

FFN II AO3

Summary: When Thanos follows the team through time, he inadvertently splinters off countless alternate timelines.

Part Three

She had finally found some quiet, if not some peace. Tony was resting, painkillers and injuries pulling him into a deep enough sleep that Bruce seemed convinced they wouldn't get any more answers from him that night. He had left along with several others. Peter and Happy were the only ones that had elected to stay, Strange promising that if anything went wrong he was just a portal away. Not that Pepper knew how to get ahold of him, but that didn't seem to be in question as he stepped through a swirl of gold and sparks to leave her staring.

That had been hours before. Now, with Morgan tucked into bed and Peter and Happy crashed out, Pepper had stepped outside to try to claim a few moments to process what was happening. She wasn't sure exactly how long she had been sitting on the step on their front porch, gaze fixed through a tree that had long since blurred into colours rather than shapes. Everything had gone still, leaving her floating in her own raging thoughts.

The sound of thrusters forced her to blink, clearing her vision as the War Machine suit eased down and the helmet unlocked to reveal a familiar face. Pepper stood. "I've been trying to reach you for hours!"

Rhodey stepped out of the suit, the deep bruises from the earlier battle against Thanos showing in full in the porch light. He looked exhausted. "Not the best cell service out there right now, but I got your message. Is it really him? How?"

Pepper cringed. Despite the bags under his eyes and the bruises littering his skin, he sounded hopeful, and why not? Tony had come back from so much. Three months as a prisoner in Afghanistan, nearly killed by the arc reactor keeping him alive, redirected a nuclear bomb into space on his shoulders, Killian, Ultron, the fight with Steve, and a month lost drifting in space trying to kill a Titan…. It was a lot. It was too much. Everyone had their limits and Pepper knew he'd reached his. It had cost him his life, and for all the amazing and terrifying things they had seen, not one of them had come back from the dead. Not really.

"Pepper?" Rhodey called softly.

"It's not him," she managed, reaching up to tub at tired eyes. "He's…. a version of Tony is how Bruce explained it. From another timeline." She hated watching his shoulders fall and feeling like she had somehow killed his hope.

"Then why is he here?"

She pursed her lips. "Apparently he lost everyone in his timeline. He told Steve he…. needed to see everyone."

"You and Morgan."

Pepper glanced over, the question never making it off her tongue as her husband's best friend offered the first smile she'd seen in what felt like forever. Maybe it was really just since the funeral. He shrugged. "I've known that man a lot of years, Pepper. He came back for you."

"He didn't come back. He came here," she all but snapped.

He tilted his head. "You said he lost everyone, right? So he fought Thanos just like we did. I know Bruce seemed to think we could split off alternate realities if we screwed with the timelines too badly. Maybe that's what happened."

"That doesn't make him our Tony."

"Doesn't make him not." Rhodey leaned against the railing.

A short, mirthless laugh escaped at that and Pepper took a heavy seat on the porch step and leaned forward so that her elbows were braced against her knees.

"You mind?" Rhodey asked, motioning to the empty space next to her and nodded. He took the seat. "What's got you so tied up?"

She swallowed hard. That was the question, wasn't it? It took a moment for her to pull her thoughts into something that she hoped would make some kind of sense. She opened her mouth, closed it, and repeated the motion again before squeezing her eyes closed, finding the core of her hesitation. "What if it's not him?" There was a long moment and she pulled in a trembling breath. "I want him to be, Rhodey, but what if I think he is, if I accept he is, and he's not? If I…." Betray him sounded dramatic, but the man she's married, the man she had loved had died. Did she want this man to be him at his core? Of course she wanted it, but she wasn't sure what was right.

Rhodey loosed a long breath next to her. "We've seen a lot of crazy shit."

"You think it's really him?"

"I haven't talked to him yet, but if there's anybody stubborn enough to beat both death and time, it's Tony Stark. Hell, he's beat death more times than I can count."

The smallest of smiles tugged at her lips and she leaned into the man next to her. She wasn't sure if he was right - hell, he wasn't sure he was right - but if she weren't careful his hope might catch. If she weren't careful, she would willingly let it catch.

Aunt May had left some time before, but he had decided to stay despite her hesitation. He couldn't leave, not with Mr Stark there and alive. Peter had taken up Captain America's post watching over the sleeping, injured man when the older man had left to go help with the cleanup mission. It had been hours since then, though, and no matter how determined he was to stay awake, Peter's body was making him fight for it.

Light flooded into the room and he jerked back from the edge of sleep, jolting upright in the wingback chair he had slumped down in. Brown eyes squinted towards the door and tried to adjust, but all he saw was the light. Then he looked down and saw little Morgan Stark sneaking in. Her own dark eyes latched onto him and she held her finger to her lips in a gesture that Peter had to assume she was mimicking from her father. He flashed her a grin and mirrored it, unfolding. "Hey. Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" he asked her in a hushed voice.

She scrunched her little nose up in thought. "Wanna see Daddy," she said and looked back to him. "Aren't you 'spose to be in bed?"

"Probably," the teen superhero murmured and glanced over to where Mr Stark was sleeping.

"What's that?" Morgan asked, pointing at the medical equipment by the bed, all of it reading steady.

"That's just to make sure he's okay."

"Sick?"

"Sorta," Peter said hesitantly. She was four, Pepper had told him. What do you tell a four-year-old when their dad was hurt? To be fair, though, she'd thought he was dead a few hours earlier. He hadbeen. Hurt was better than dead any day.

Morgan climbed up onto the bed without warning and Peter swallowed his protest, waiting to see if she'd wake him. A small part - a selfish part, he knew - kind of hoped she did. He had barely seen the older man since his return. A hop through a portal, an unexpected hug on the other side, and before he knew it Mr Stark was sacrificing his life so the rest of them could live.

And then he was gone. Just like that. Dead and gone, seemingly forever, but Peter had been too, he guessed. Snapped out of existence. It made sense if he was from an alternate timeline that he was basically their Mr Stark. All but that terrible ending. It made sense, he thought. He was definitely willing to believe it.

"Hey, Daddy?" Morgan called in a loud whisper, poking his cheek. "Daddy?"

A soft groan came from the injured man and Peter saw him shift, and it looked like he looked up at Morgan. "Hey you," her dad greeted roughly.

"You wanna juice pop? Make you feel better?"

A snort of laughter escaped Mr Stark and Peter saw him reach up, bopping a finger against his daughter's nose. "You know what makes me feel even better than a juice pop?"

"Huh?"

"You. C'mere," he prompted and she leaned down so that he could kiss her round little cheek, Morgan giggling all the way. "Love you three thousand."

"Hey! That's mine!" she protested, but didn't sound too put out.

"I know, but it's a good one. Can I borrow it? Only for you though."

"Only for me though," she echoed and laid down next to him, snuggling in like she had no intention of leaving.

Mr Stark shifted, pressing a kiss to her hair and Peter suddenly felt like he was intruding, but he had no idea how to slip out without calling attention to himself and making it even more awkward. He was weighing his options when he heard the older man clear his throat. "Hey, Pete?"

Okay. So much for going unnoticed. "Hi…. uh, I was just —"

Mr Stark reached out with the hand not tethered by the various machines and IVs - only the little girl who was already asleep nestled against him - and Peter moved over instantly. "You okay?"

He took the offered hand. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. Are you —?"

"Thought I'd lost you again," his mentor murmured, squeezing Peter's hand, and it looked like the painkillers were already pulling him back into a drowsy sleep.

"You saved my ice. All of our lives." Peter swallowed hard, the weight of the emotions making it difficult to speak. "You found us again, Mr Stark. You came home."

He was already asleep though, Morgan snoring softly against her father and Peter felt a smile tug into place. He gave the hand in his one final squeeze before easing it down on the bed and starting for the door. There'd be time. He was home. He was okay. They were all going to be okay.

It was late. She and Rhodey had talked for a long while and then had sat in silence, letting it all sink in. Pepper had known she wouldn't be able to sleep, but at least she had been able to talk through everything that was whirling around her mind. She didn't have the answers, but at least she wasn't alone.

She offered Rhodey any space he could find to sleep, but they found Hapy still crashes out on the couch and Peter had taken up residence on a small sofa, long legs bent over the arm. They looked peaceful, or something close to it.

The plan has been to check on Morgan and then go rest her own eyes for at least a few minutes, but Pepper found her daughter's room empty. It didn't take a lot to put together where she had gone.

The guest bedroom was dark save the soft glow of the monitors. Pepper peaked into the room to see something she'd seen many times before: Morgan half draped over Tony, father and daughter sound asleep. Pepper chewed on her bottom lip as she watched them, both oblivious, and she could feel that desperate small hope setting in despite her best efforts. It was in the way that Morgan had tucked herself into the crook of his shoulder and the way he was half curled on his side, his face relaxed in sleep. She missed him. There was no question that she did miss him. The question was in if she would have to continue to.

Pepper drew in a shaky breath and wiped at the tears threatening. She'd talk to him in the morning and make her own judgement call. Know one knew Tony Stark like she did. She'd know, and she thought that might be what terrified her the most: the possibility of having to say goodbye all over again. Of giving up that hope that was starting to take hold.

Knowing was better, though. It had to be.

TBC

Notes: Well this is turning out longer than I meant for it to be... When I started it I promised myself I would only write a two, three parter at the absolute most, but here we are, and there's at least one more part to write. Ah well... That's what happens when I remember how much I've missed writing MCU fanfiction

#endgame fix it fic #endgame spoilers #tony stark #pepper potts #morgan stark #peter parker #james rhodes #pepperony #iron dad

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reciprocityfic · 6 years ago

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a slight return home, chapter 4

Title: A Slight Return Home Fandom: The Walking Dead Pairing: Rick x Michonne Rating: T Summary: Rick’s death shakes Michonne’s world to its core. With her daughter and her remaining family, she tries to navigate her changed life, and all the struggles and surprises that come with it. Canon-compliant, for now. Spoilers up to 9x06.

Author’s Note: Hello, my dears! Here is chapter four of A Slight Return Home. I hope you like it!

read chapter one on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter two on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter three on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter four on archive of our own or ff.net

dream a little dream of me

She bursts into tears the first time she sees him.

He's little, he's wrinkly, and he's covered in goop as Siddiq lifts him up to her after the final push. Siddiq cuts the umbilical cord and wipes him off quickly, then checks his vitals before laying the baby on her chest. His eyes are shut, fists closed tight, and his screams echo throughout the room. He's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen, and she cries.

He's here. He's finally here, but Rick is not, and somehow, she's never been more happy or more sad at any point in her life.

She cradles him close, and after a few moments, he quiets down, and nuzzles his face into her chest. She smiles through her tears, strokes her hand over his head. She can already see the scant hair he has trying to form into curls, and her heart breaks.

She can't tear her gaze from him, so she doesn't notice that Siddiq has finished cleaning up and is now standing next to her until he speaks.

"He's beautiful, Michonne."

She sniffles, and nods.

"He is."

"Do you have a name picked out for him yet?"

She hasn't told anyone except Rick what his name will be, up to this point. It had been just between the two of them. Something they could share in.

"I'm going to name him Rick."

Siddiq doesn't answer right away, but when he does, she swears she can hear a tremble in his voice.

"That's a good name."

He stretches in her arms, and nuzzles his face into her chest again. She smiles softly.

"Yeah. It is."

He doesn't sleep well for the first few months.

She supposes that few infants sleep particularly well in the initial weeks following birth, but she doesn't remember it being this difficult with Andre, and Judith could sleep through anything. Siddiq agrees that his problems seem a touch above average, but assures her that it's nothing to worry about; some babies sleep through the night within days, while others take much more time.

As a result, though, many of her nights are nearly sleepless. Her leadership takes a temporary hit, only because she is so exhausted so much of the time, but many people - Rosita, Father Gabriel, Aaron, among others - step up to help in her absence. And she firmly assures the community that she will be back to full capacity once RJ starts sleeping better.

For now, her focus is on her baby, along with Judith. Judith, who loves her baby brother so dearly already. Who showers him with soft kisses all over his tiny face, who constantly talks and coos at him in her sweet, high voice, who loves to sit next to Michonne on the couch and cradle their new bundle in her small arms. Judith, who handles the many changes going on around her with a grace that eclipses her young age. The girl never complains - not when their family routine changes so drastically, not when her mother's attention must so often draw towards RJ instead of her, and not when her baby brother's cries keep her awake at night.

On one particularly noisy evening, Judith wanders into her mother's room, blanket clutched in one hand and stuffed rabbit in the other. Michonne looks at her little girl as she walks around the room, gently bouncing RJ as he cries. Judith's eyes are sleepy, and there's a frown on her face, as she crawls on top of the bed, but she doesn't say anything.

"What's up, little bird?" Michonne asks.

"Baby brother is keeping me up," she answers simply.

Michonne sighs, and then sits down on the edge of the bed. She shifts RJ to one arm so she can run her hand over Judith's hair.

"I'm sorry, baby."

"It's okay. He's just a little baby," she mumbles tiredly, as she sets down her bunny and rubs at her eyes.

Michonne can't help the warmth that fills her heart, and she smiles at her daughter.

"You're so smart, Judy. And kind."

She's someone her father would be proud of. The thought threatens to make tears well up in her eyes.

Judith doesn't respond. Instead, she lays back on the two pillows at the head of the bed. Michonne watches her for a moment, and then decides to lay down next to her. She crawls over carefully, still holding RJ, and settles down next to her daughter, their heads resting together. She lays the still- whining baby on her chest.

The two of them are quiet for a few minutes, but then, Judith turns and looks at her mother.

"Did you try to sing to him?"

"No, I didn't," Michonne says, shaking her head.

Judith pauses before speaking.

"You should sing him Daddy's song. That always helps me go to sleep."

She heard him for the first time one evening long ago. Before the war started. Before Negan. Before the two of them together, even.

She had been cleaning up from dinner, but now that she was finished, she decided to shower and get to bed early - a rare opportunity in the sort of world they lived in. She said goodnight to Carl, who was sitting on the couch with a new comic book Glenn had gotten him on a run a few weeks ago. Rick had gone upstairs a while ago with Judith, to put her to sleep. The toddler must've been having a little trouble getting there, since Rick wasn't back yet.

She was on her way to the bathroom when she heard a male voice singing. It was so pleasant and melodic that it made her pause. She looked to her left - towards where the sound was coming from - and saw the door to Judith's room, slightly ajar.

She knew it was Rick. It had to be Rick. He was the one putting Judith to bed. Plus, Carl was downstairs, and there was no one else in the house. It was Rick.

But she still had to check.

Gingerly, she backed up a few steps, and moved towards the edge of the hallway, so she could peer through the crack between the wall and the door and see into Judith's bedroom.

She saw Rick, standing and swaying back and forth, with his little girl in his arms. She was laying against his chest, eyes closed and mouth open, wearing purple polka-dotted footie pajamas. Michonne could see Rick's mouth moving as he sang. She couldn't quite make out the words, but the tune sounded familiar.

She couldn't have stopped the smile that crept onto her face even if she'd tried. She thought of nights spent rocking Andre to sleep in her arms with a sweet song, and the memory didn't make her sad.

And then, as suddenly as the sound first permeated her eardrums, it was over. Rick stopped swaying, and approached Judith's crib, gently laying the girl down and bending over to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Goodnight, little bird," he whispered.

Her smile grew. And she was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize that Rick was approaching until he opened the door to leave the room. They both startled slightly at the sight of each other.

"Rick," she said.

"Michonne," he answered, his voice slow as he closed the door behind him. He squinted at her, and tilted his head, like he had a habit of doing. "What are you doing out here?"

She leaned back against the wall, looking away from him. She felt embarrassed, all of a sudden, for snooping on a quiet moment between him and his daughter. She hoped he wouldn't be mad at her.

She hated when he was mad at her, or when she was mad at him. It rarely happened now, but when it did, it was like her entire world was off-kilter. Like someone had switched all her rights with her lefts without telling her.

"I was, uh...I was on my way to take a shower, but I heard someone singing."

He didn't react for a moment, and her heart dropped. But then, he laughed gently, and looked down at the floor as he ran a hand through his curly hair. When he managed to meet her gaze again, she swore she saw a blush covering his cheeks, even in the dim light.

"You heard that, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah, I did. And I was curious, so I stopped to listen."

He laughed again, and stared at the ground once more. He seemed almost embarrassed, and she continued quickly in an attempt to reassure him.

"It was nice," she told him. "I kept listening because it made me happy. To see the two of you like that."

He glanced up at her, looking surprised.

"It did?"

She nodded. He smiled at her, and this time, it seemed genuine. His eyes brightened, and he seemed pleased, somehow.

"I'm glad it made you happy," he murmured.

They locked eyes, and a beat passed between them. It wasn't quite awkward, but it wasn't comfortable, either. She felt like she was standing on the edge of something high, and her stomach twisted in a way she didn't recognize.

"May I ask what song you were singing?" she said to him softly.

Rick blinked hard twice, his face wearing an expression that she couldn't identify. Then, he smiled, and she felt her whole body relax.

"Yeah, of course. My older cousin used to babysit me and my brother when we were young. I always had trouble falling asleep when my parents weren't home, so she would come sit with me and sing me songs to try to get me to relax. My favorite was always 'Dream a Little Dream of Me' by The Mamas and the Papas. So when we had Carl, I would sing it to him when I put him to bed. And I started singin' it to Judith back at the prison."

He stopped, and looked at Judith's door, the corner of his lips turning up.

"She likes it, I think. Even more than Carl did. It always seems to calm her down."

Hearing the title of the song jogged her memory.

"My grandmother used to play that song," she told him. "The Ella Fitzgerald version, though."

He grinned at her.

"Somethin' I have in common with the fancy city girl."

She rolled her eyes playfully, and he let out a hushed laugh. He liked to tease her often, about anything. When she told him a bit about her upbringing, he found another target. He always exaggerated their differences, and referred to his as the poor, rural childhood to her more well-to-do, metropolitan upbringing.

"You're lucky I'm friends with a country bumpkin like you."

Something flashed in his eyes - something almost crestfallen - but before she could even try to decipher it, or ask about it, he laughed again. Then, he cast his eyes towards the floor.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I'm lucky."

He kept his eyes down, for a moment longer than she expected him to.

"Rick?"

He immediately brought his gaze back to her, and plastered a smile on his face.

"Sorry. Just tired."

"You gonna go to bed?"

"Probably should. Me and Daryl are supposed to go out early tomorrow."

She nodded. Stepping forward, she placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, then let her fingers trail down his arm before dropping back to her side. She was close enough to him now that she had to look up to make eye contact with him. When she did, he was already staring back at her.

"Goodnight, Rick," she said gently.

His lips turned up into a half smile, and he shifted slightly on his feet, bringing himself even closer to her.

"'Night, Michonne," he murmured, and there was a lilt to his voice that, again, she couldn't decipher.

He'd been different around her the past couple of weeks. Not vastly different. In fact, she probably wouldn't have noticed it if she wasn't so completely in tune with him, always. But she did notice it, and it frustrated her - not because it was a bad different, or anything like that. She just wasn't used to not understanding his moods and actions. Not anymore.

Now, though, there always seemed to be a certain edge to him whenever they were together. Especially when they were alone. He would stare at her for a moment too long, and then look away quickly, and he wouldn't meet her gaze again for a few moments. There would be a note in the tone of his voice, or a tiny glint in his eyes, that she hadn't seen before. And sometimes, he almost seemed nervous.

He'd never been nervous around her before; he'd been hostile at the prison, distant when they first arrived at Alexandria. But she couldn't remember a time when he'd been nervous.

It felt like something was shifting between them, but she didn't know what it was, or why. She'd been meaning to ask him about it, and was tempted to say something now, but she decided to put it off until a different time. He was obviously tired, and she could feel exhaustion from the day's activities begin to seep into her bones, as well.

So she began her walk down the hall anew, letting her side brush against his as she passed. When she got to the bathroom door, she paused, and turned back towards him.

She found him still in the same position, facing away from her, leaning against the wall outside of Judith's room.

"Hey, Rick?"

He turned his head and looked over his shoulder at her.

"Yeah?"

"You have a pretty good voice. For a country bumpkin, at least."

He laughed lowly, and again, she saw him blush.

"Momma?"

Judith's voice breaks Michonne from her reverie. She looks down at her daughter, who's staring up at her with big, hazel eyes, a small frown on her face. She looks a bit nervous, and Michonne knows that's her fault. She encourages mentioning Rick whenever possible in their household, to keep the memory of him potent and vibrant. But, depending on how she's feeling - on how much grief is swallowing her in that day or time - her reactions differ. Sometimes, she and Judith will smile together as they remember. At others, tears well up in her eyes, and some spill over.

Sometimes, she has to leave Judith and go to the next room to let out the sobs collecting in her chest.

And she knows that Judith is waiting, now, for what she'll do next. If she'll laugh, or cry, or even retreat. Michonne's heart breaks, and she quickly moves to reassure the girl.

"I probably can't sing it as good as Daddy did," she tries to joke.

Judith smirks.

"That's okay, Momma. Your voice is pretty, too," she tells her, reaching up and running her small hand over RJ's back.

The corners of Michonne's mouth turn up, and she closes her eyes before letting out a long breath.

Stars shining bright above you Night breezes seem to whisper, "I love you" Birds singing in the sycamore tree Dream a little dream of me

Her voice cracks on the last word, and she pauses to clear her throat. As she does, she glances over at Judith, and is startled when she sees a single tear running down her cheek. She sits up abruptly, cradling the baby close as to not jostle him too much.

"Judith?"

"Keep goin'," Judith answers.

"Are you oka-"

"Momma, keep goin'," Judith nearly begs, grabbing onto Michonne's shirt and pulling her back towards the mattress. "Please keep singing, Momma."

Michonne bites her bottom lip as worry churns in her gut, but she relents to Judith's wish and tugging. She lies back down, aligning her face with Judith's and gazing into her shining eyes.

"Keep goin'," the little girl whispers.

Say nighty-night and kiss me Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me While I'm alone and blue as can be Dream a little dream of me

Judith scoots closer to her mother, and rests her forehead against hers.

"I miss Daddy."

Another tear falls from her eyes before she closes them. Michonne's heart aches, just as much as it did on her first day without him.

"I miss him too, little bird," Michonne murmurs, taking one of her hands from RJ's back and reaching over to squeeze Judith's shoulder. She reaches up and splays her palm across Michonne's cheek.

They fall silent again, the only sounds in the room coming from RJ's slight whines. Then, Judith opens her eyes.

"Keep singing," she requests again.

Stars fading, but I linger on, dear Still craving your kiss I'm longing to linger 'til dawn, dear Just saying this

Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you But in your dreams, whatever they be Dream a little dream of me

Michonne feels Judith's hand go limp, and as she studies her face, she finds Judith's eyes closed, her mouth hanging open, and her breaths flowing slow and steady through her lungs.

She's fallen asleep. There's still moisture on her little face from her tears, and Michonne gently wipes it away with the pad of her thumb.

Stars fading, but I linger on, dear Still craving your kiss I'm longing to linger 'til dawn, dear Just saying this

She glances down at RJ, and finds that he's settled, too, his back rising and falling against her palm with a constant rhythm.

She smiles, and casts her eyes upward, towards wherever he is.

"RJ likes it, too," she lets him know.

Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you Sweet dreams that leave all worries far behind you But in your dreams, whatever they be Dream a little dream of me

She gazes at her two sleeping children, and her heart fills with a warmth she hasn't felt in awhile. Again, she looks up.

"We're gonna be okay," she tells him. "I promise you, we're gonna be okay."

She takes a deep breath, allowing her whole body to relax, before closing her eyes.

But in your dreams, whatever they be Dream a little dream of me

As soon as Siddiq says it's safe for RJ to travel by horseback, she takes him to Rick.

Spring has begun to warm the days again, freeing the survivors from a harsh winter. The sun shines in splotches on her and their baby, its light interrupted by the burgeoning leaves on the surrounding trees. The water of the creek rushes by calmly as they sit on the damp ground beneath them.

"I wanted to bring him to you sooner, but I had to wait until I could take him on a horse."

She looks down at RJ as he sits on her lap, cooing and grasping a leaf Michonne had handed him. She smiles.

"I know I talk to you about him all the time. But I wanted you to see him."

She laughs self-consciously as RJ gurgles.

"I know that doesn't make sense. If you can hear me anywhere, then you can most definitely see him anywhere, too. But here I am."

RJ squeals, and wiggles on her lap. She smiles again.

"Here we are, I mean. Sorry, baby."

She's quiet for a few moments, and listens to the wind blowing through the tree branches. RJ starts to fuss, so she picks him up, and holds him in the air, facing her. She stares at him - at his angelic face, his tiny fingers, his wide, brown eyes. At his chubby cheeks, kicking feet, and dark curls that get longer by the day.

"Look what we made, Rick."

She brings RJ to her, cradles him against her body, and begins to sway back and forth. RJ hums and babbles contentedly, and she closes her eyes and leans her head against him, snuggling with the baby. With their perfect, little person.

She feels a tear run down the side of her face.

"Look what we made."

A/N: There ya go!

There are a ton of amazing versions of Dream a Little Dream of Me. The versions by Ella Fitzgerald and Mama Cass are the ones referenced in this chapter, and I also recommend the versions by Dala and Renee Dominique.

The line, "We're gonna be okay. I promise you, we're gonna be okay," is from This is Us on NBC. And I've actually used it before in one of my stories (Newton's Third Law), but I just like it a lot, okay? Don't throw things at me.

The next chapter is going to be weird and probably on the short side, since it's gonna be a sort of very vague navigation through a very long time period (6 years, anyone?). I hate to skip so much story, but we have things to get to, right? ;)

xoxo, Rebekah

#richonne #richonne writing network #richonne fic #richonne fanfiction #the walking dead #twd fanfiction #asrh

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conspiracieys-archive · 6 years ago

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dusan nemec, but as a supervillain. what powers would he have, where would his base be, how would he keep his secret identity if he has on, what would his super suit look like, etc.

hmmmmmm..... this is a good ask! well... let's see. long as usual so i tried to cut it under a read more (but u know mobile tumblr doesnt WORK so im sorry)

his secret identity. he keeps it secret really well, just because he's got a real good poker face and he also doesnt attack, like, places that can be traced back to him. (the exception is the DedSec hq, assuming in this au theyre the superheroes in parallel to him)

but the hq thing is covered by the fact that there ARE a lot of anti-dedsec people ANYWAY (bc there's always gotta be a few ppl who just hate the heroes). but also hacking is a commonplace thing nowadays and in the WD universe (and consequently this au), hacking is just... Insanely Huge? everyone and their mom seems to be a hacker, so if electronic fuckery happens, it's not GUARANTEED to be his fault ya know?

(also he has like... super enhanced intelligence as a ..power (see below) so like, it's not hard for him to come up w excuses or be tactical about when he does his Villainous Shit)

[ALSOOOOO -im writing this after ive written almost everything else sry- he doesn't like..... reveal he has powers. to the world, Dusan Nemec is just an incredibly good coder and he's just got a genius intellect. but his Villain flaunts his powers and takes pride in what he can do.

so it's like "Well, Dusan, do what that villain did" and Dusan sits down and like, painstakingly writes line after line of code to try and mimic the effects of his technopathy but he can't do everything technopathy can. so it's really hard to pin it on him. ppl still suspect though. they always suspect.]

POWERSSSSSSSS. i was gonna save this for last but then i realized: his primary power is technology manipulation. the good guys with this power would be technopaths, but he LIKES the phrase 'technology manipulation' because Dusan likes to be able to manipulate things... people... technology... to do whatever he wants.

so like before he came into his power of technopathy, he was still really, really good with coding. he'd never admit to having hacked things before working w ctos, but he has. and then... [insert backstory here] and now he can bypass the need to code and just ... MAKE ctos respond to him. he can pull up any surveillance cam at will, he can access any file remotely (we will address this in the Super Suit section), he can hack the traffic lights, he can just... do anything.

and w his personality, THAT is what makes him a supervillain.

if you don't have ctos or blume devices in your house, he bypasses ALL of it and forces Blume and ctos software to install. hell, your sexy Samsung smart fridge? literally now it's just been forcefully turned into a Blume fridge. w his remote access he can just turn any phone he passes into a ctos phone. like only another technopath (DedSec - technopathy would be one of the biggest requirements to get into the core of DedSec) can prevent Dusan's abilities from infecting and destroying and essentially controlling their technology.

he also has slightly superpowered intellect. which i think is a stupid ability but also i'm giving it to him anyway cuz he's considered a genius within the wd universe. so why not throw in the fact that his mind itself, aside from technopathy, has been quite altered and has significantly more improved functioning than the rest of us.

and lastly he does have an Eidetic memory. which isn't rly a superpower by itself but in combination w superpowered intellect and technopathy makes it an asset to his power set, ya know?

he can and will remember exactly who has ctos installed, who doesnt, if he had to do it or if they were willing, etc.

and he definitely remembers every little tidbit he finds abt DedSec

ok so since we've established he's a technopath now, and we know there are weird basement levels of Blume's HQ, at least 3 rooms are just HIS to use. like no one, not even another technopath, can access them. just bc he has Blume HQ fortified to the nines. i mean DedSec could probably TRY and maybe succeed at getting into Blume HQ itself but like, they won't get into his underground base.

like no one knows that three rooms off of the server rooms are even... there? he's got sexy hidden doors. like false servers?? where to the eye they look and glow and flicker like proper servers but they're secret doors. legit no one knows they EXIST much less how to GET TO THEM. his HQ is, like, solid af

super suit. ok like the main thing is he has a helmet. like.... a fitted full head helmet w tinted tempered glass in the screen. it's all black on the outside, and like nice cushy fuckin memory foam on the inside (sleek and black too ofc) and the visor is also a computer. (remote access!)

his base outfit is a black fitted body suit that is also, like, technologically fitted?

i just want it to be glowy ok?? he also has it programmed so that when he uses his technopath abilities and channels them thru his hands, his finger tips light up bc he's just That Bitch.

in theory his helmet visor/screen could emote like Wrench's mask

over his body suit, he has like. ok bear with me but like. skinny black sweats? they're not super tight or super loose. they sit low on his hips and end mid calf. i love Dusan and i love his sweats ok. he wears them always i'm trash.

also he's stupid and has shoes build into his body suit basically? like they're really nice and have good support and they're just... part of the body suit.

no he does not wear anything over the top of his bodysuit. also obvs the body suit is like, from his chin to his toes, w long sleeves and gloves as well.

his glowy bits are like, sleet and soft grey.

it's gotta be weird cramming his dumb beard into his suit and helmet but he does it. for fashion and to give away as little as possible in regards to his identity.

oo also he has like a speaker in his helmet that works as a voice scrambler. so it's like. even harder to trace to him, and w his technopathy he can change the scrambler at will.

like deadass one time he attacks DedSec he makes his voice scrambler sound EXACTLY like Wrench and it's shaking.

he doesn’t have any visible logos, just cool tech-y lines down his sides, arms, and legs. probably his back too? by tech-y lines i mean the kind you see on microchips and stuff.

ok let's talk abt weaknesses bc i rambled abt how GOOD his technopathy is.

but bc of his superior intellect, and just based on canon stuff, Dusan is... like the ULTIMATE stereotyped villain in that he just... loves to Monologue.

so it's easy to drop a virus into his system if you just keep him talking.

like say he's showin down w DedSec and he has all but Marcus tied up and he's gettin ready to kill Marcus but Marcus gets him monologuing so, like, Wrench can use his own technopathy to manipulate a virus into Dusan's suit.

the thing is, Dusan is aware 99% of the time. he's aware of his suit's system. he's aware of how his system connects back to Blume HQ and his private offices off the server room. he's aware 99% of the time of everything

but when Marcus fucking Holloway plays dumb as a box of rocks, Dusan Nemec canNOT help but mockingly explain things to him. and Marcus is used to ppl thinking lesser of him, so it's really easy to play it up until...

WELL, YA KNOW???

n Marcus fucking BOOKS IT to save DedSec while all sort of DS imagery is popping up on Dusan’s visor screen and Ode to Joy but, ya know, the DedSec version all loud and violent, is BLARING into his ears and he cant THINK and he’s scrambling and by the time he can get his brain to focus and force out the virus, DedSec is gone

(he never learns, either. but sometimes it’s Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture or some shit. it’s always a different violent crescendo of a classical song, ok? he never ever learns but he comes to DESPISE classical music.)

that’s like, his biggest weakness. he can’t help but, well, mansplain when he thinks he’s better than everyone in the room (which is always) and someone asks a stupid question. he’s such a jerk in canon, and this au/concept makes it worse bc he has like, veritable proof that his brain is more capable than others.

and, for the grand finale of this answer, Dusan Nemec’s Super Villain name...

i have NO FUCKING CLUE. here are some options:

the Coder, the Hacker, MicroGhost??? bc he like... can come and go like a ghost??? microchip, fantasy name gen just gave me Incognito which is so stupid i love it??? idk give me suggestions.

tysm for the ASK. let’s get back on this DUSAN SHIT

#ask #dusan nemec #watch dogs 2 #dedsec #anonymous #bleep #i loved doing this actually?#thank you!!!!#long post

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fursasaida · 5 years ago

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ask meme: something about visual art? I think of you as someone who posts about interesting artists -- what kind of work do you like/seen anything good lately/do you have a fine arts background/whatever you'd like to talk about

Hmm, this is interesting! I haven’t really thought about My Relation to Art in a long time.

I do not have a fine arts background in any formal sense. I drew a lot in middle and high school and I was pretty good! But not so good that it really made sense to pursue it in a serious way. (I did freehand a sort of mini-mural in watercolor and highlighter on the wall of my dorm room freshman year of college that the maintenance people preserved and the kids who moved in the next year liked, which still makes me smile to think about.)

I do have sort of an ad hoc art…history and theory background, I guess, in that I was raised by people who care about art a lot and who brought me to museums and galleries all the time. My dad tells a story about being at some sort of Renaissance art exhibit and me, age 4, asking to be told a ghost story, so he looked around and told me the Passion of Christ, lmao. I also had a sort of godfather figure (family friend, not an actual godfather because we’re not…Christian) who is very active in ~the art world~ and to whom it made sense to take me to the Whitney Biennial for my 15th birthday as like a nod to a quinceañera (he’s Cuban). So I grew up viewing and critiquing art as kind of a matter of course?

As for what I like, I think that’s tough to pin down. Sometimes it’s a color palette. Sometimes it’s a mood. Sometimes it’s a conceptual angle. There are definitely times when the ~concept~ really overwhelms the work, which pisses me off. (if I can’t make any kind of sense of this without reading your statement, or if your statement seems like a bunch of verbose handwaving concealing the lack of an idea, then I will very often be completely turned off. I don’t know how many times I’ve looked at something and thought “cool! interesting! intriguing!” and then read the title and gone “oh, lord, never mind.”) But I also tend to struggle with art that doesn’t seem to have much of a concept. “Concept” doesn’t have to mean a super-specific idea, just, like: why did you make this. I always have a soft spot for things that seem to be complicating the notion of representation, which usually means either problematizing the apparent “real”-ness of whatever is depicted, or problematizing the medium (I really couldn’t care less about most of Picasso’s work, but some of his early sculptures are clearly trying to mess around with the question of where the line is between a painting and a sculpture–screwing with the picture plane itself rather than its perspectival illusion–and I love those).

I think this is why I’m drawn to things that present light as almost a solid object, a volume or substance; things that suggest hidden recesses or depths; installations that suggest different kinds of realities or spaces interacting with “normal” spatiality through temporal disjuncture or spatial collision; some exercises in surrealism and abstraction; things that mess with the illusion of objects or bodies as singular, solid items/presences that have a natural order. So, for example: Damien Hirst is tough for me because a lot of his ideas are in line with my interests, but his stuff feels so conceptually overblown and pretentious that I’m always kind of torn. Jeff Koons pisses me off because it’s like all concept and nothing else; his stuff feels so ironic and full of knowing distance that I’m like, fuck off, your heart isn’t in this, you are risking nothing and your art is incapable of moving me. Because I suppose what I like about art that messes with these ideas is that usually it communicates something about how that person sees the world or struggles to understand it. I think that’s why so many people find Caravaggio’s chiaroscuro so fascinating and affecting–it conveys something about his experience or way of seeing and thinking. I simply do not believe that balloon animals really preoccupy Koons in that kind of way. (I have a less intense version of this problem with Warhol.) Whereas I find kind of love expressed in this Ralph Goings interview not only very moving but also evident in the supposedly photorealistic nature of his paintings, the attention to detail and the evident care with which they were made. This is also why I like artists’ studios and/or homes-as-art-projects. But I can’t explain, for example, why I like Kandinsky so much. That’s just like, you know, #aesthetic.

At the same time, I’m a geographer, and geography has a very intimate relationship with the visual, so there are certain forms/concepts that show up in art a lot that are directly relevant to my work: the (supposed) division between nature and culture; landscape; the city; maps; scale (here and here). When I’m working on an idea, aspects of what I’m thinking about naturally pop out in everything I encounter or see, so I often end up sort of making accidental moodboards for a given project by virtue of reblogging things and tagging them a certain way (I did this somewhat on purpose for my MA thesis, but it happens anyway whether I mean to or not–though the contents aren’t only art). I guess you could say I think with images as well as words or concepts; my thinking moves back and forth between different kinds of registers (academic, artistic, pop-cultural, etc), which I think is extremely normal but becomes a particular practice of mine through the way I produce this archive that is my tumblr. For example, I really didn’t give a fuck about intimism until I’d watched Black Sails, at which point the underlying values/ideas in intimism became very interesting to me, and so now in turn I’m interested in intimist art or art that feels related to that now-abandoned movement. And of course therefore the ways in which intimism is related to those core interests I elaborated above are now evident to me. I’m interested, going forward, in trying to do this in a more conscious and organized way and thinking about it as a possible teaching tool.

ETA: I think in some ways the whole thing I’ve written here could be summed up with my interest in memes, which I maintain are not only politically important (this is no longer controversial, given…Everything) but also have a special kind of logic of how the visual interacts with the representational and communicative. Hence this a-joke-but-not-a-joke tag.

#art #about me #dignityisforotherpeople #epistemology #archives

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mooskimedia-blog · 5 years ago

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the best way to enhance your gameplay on the SIMS 4 Little Tricks To Help Make The Sims 4 A Whole Lot Better

The Sims is an all time FAVOURITE for generations now , We've been having a lot of fun with the game so far. But we've also encountered a few hurdles along the way. Don't worry, though, because many of these obstacles are easily overcome with a few small changes.

Here is a list of adjustments I've discovered over the past few days. None of them are profound game-changers on their own. But taken together, they have made The Sims 4 a much better experience already.

There are two different ways to use camera.

As I mentioned in my initial impressions of the game, the biggest problem I've had with The Sims 4 is that it's controls can be frustratingly imprecise at times. This is particularly annoying when it comes to adjusting the camera angle and moving around the world. I still believe that the game needs some fine-tuning in this regard, but what I neglected to mention earlier this week is that there are two different camera modes, one of which is more similar to the way it worked in The Sims 3. What this means in practice is that, in the Sims 3 mode, you can adjust the camera angle freely by moving the mouse around while holding down the middle button. The switch is available in the game's options menu, but you can also swap back-and-forth instantaneously by pressing control + shift +tab. This is very useful when you're working in build mode, where a great degree of precision is often required.

Speaking of controls, here are a some useful shortcuts.

Video Games Blogger has compiled a useful list of hotkeys. Since The Sims 4 often feels like the video game version of photoshop or some architectural modelling program, learning these will save you many a click.

For the tools in build mode:

Eyedropper Tool (toggle): E

Hand Tool: H

Sledgehammer Tool (toggle): K

Design Tool (toggle): R

Wall Tool: B

Toggles Day/Night in B/B: L

Allow off-grid placement while dragging around an object: Alt

Toggle Grid: G

Cycle Between 1/2 tile and 1/4 tile grid snapping for object placement: F5

Flood Fill a single wall while placing wall patterns: Alt

Flood Fill floor & wall paint while placing floor or wall patterns: Shift

Toggle to 1/4 tile floor paint while placing floor tile patterns: Ctrl + F

Reduce Terrain Brush Size while Terrain Paint catalogue is open: [

Increase Terrain Brush Size while Terrain Paint catalogue is open: ]

Move Terrain Brush Softness Slider to the Left while Terrain Paint catalogue is open: ;

Move Terrain Brush Softness Slider to the Right while Terrain Paint catalogue is open: '

Toggle Terrain Paint/Eraser while Terrain Paint catalogue is open: Ctrl

Move Whole House tool: U

Toggle Video Recording: V

Capture Screenshot: C

When you're placing objects in build mode:

Rotate held/selected object, block, roof, anything rotatable: < / >

Move object to next slot in surface with a slotted object selected and on a slot surface: M

Copy held/selected object on placement: Shift

Inventory held/selected object: Backspace

Delete held/selected object: Delete

Undo: Ctrl + Z

Redo: Ctrl + Y

For the camera:

Have the camera follow the Sim: Right-click on the Sim's portrait

Toggle Top Down View: T

Go to Next Floor Up: Page Up

Go to Next Floor Down: Page Down

Walls Up: Home

Walls Down: End

That's a lot of stuff, obviously, so give yourself time to figure out your ideal control scheme. Two that I'd highlight for building are using the free placement option when putting stuff down and having some fun with the quarter-tiles option. Much like the Sims 3 camera mode, this gives some much-needed breathing room to start experimenting.

If the tutorials are annoying you, you can make them go away.

When you first start playing The Sims 4, you'll get a lot of tutorial notifications. Unfortunately, the game doesn't have an easy way to disable this for seasoned Sims players or just people who don't like being inundated with an endless barrage of pop-up notifications. Thanks to the SimsVIP, however, I discovered a handy way to remove tutorial messages — you just have to do so through Origin, rather than the game.

Here are their very easy instructions:

Open the Origin Client

Right Click The Sims 4 game cover

Select "View Game Properties"

Click "Game Properties." This will open a popup box.

Add the following line to the Command Line Arguments box and hit apply: — — no_tutorial

It should look like this:

Add your own soundtrack to liven things up.

Are you bored with The Sims 4's soundtrack? I sure am. Granted, Origin tells me I've already played 20 hours of the game, so maybe moderation is the real problem here. In either case, EA has this helpful note about personalizing your copy of The Sims 4 with your own music:

You can play your own MP3s through the radios in The Sims 4. Copy them into the The Sims 4\Custom Music folder that corresponds with your genre of choice and tune your in-game radio to that station to hear your music.

If you want some suggestions, remember that you're always welcome to peruse the Kotaku Soundtrack, our ongoing series of songs that we're listening to — and gaming to.

It's very easy to take screenshots and record your gameplay.

For screenshots, all you have to do is press "C." To film something, meanwhile, you just have to press "V." A little camera icon will appear on the upper-left corner of the screen to indicate that the game is recording whatever's happening. Bear in mind that the recording feature defaults to only showing the Sims themselves, not the game's UI. If you want to capture exactly what's appearing on-screen, you can change that in the camera section of the game's options menu:

If you're planning to post your videos to YouTube, however, you might want to capture it at a higher quality than you can easily access in the options menu. Here are some handy instructions from The Sims 4 Blogger Tumblr:

To make your video files bigger, you'll need to adjust a small detail in The Sims 4's Game Files.

To edit your video size, open the folder where you install your Origin Games and then go to The Sims 4 > Game > Bin > res. In the "res" folder, you'll have to open a configuration setting file called "VideoRecording".

To make a video larger, simply rename the "Large =" section from 1024 to any bigger resolution you want.

Both the video and screenshot options are so easy that even I've managed to use them, and I can barely find my way around Gmail on most days. Sharing your stuff is another story. The game has a "share to Facebook" option at present for screenshots, but that also means that the images appear through a Sims-related Facebook app. The game doesn't offer any easy way to edit or share footage, meanwhile. That's frustrating. But the good news is that the game automatically saves all of these videos in a specific folder that you can pull from once you're out of the game.

Your progress can travel, but not with your Origin account.

You can activate and play The Sims 4 on multiple PCs, provided that you download Origin and activate your account. Your save data doesn't migrate quite as easily as the core game, however. If you want to travel with your most up-to-date Sims data, you'll have to copy your save files onto, say, a thumb drive and then dropping them into whatever device you're playing with. You can find this data by navigating to the "saves" folder: \Documents\Electronic Arts\TheSims4\saves.

Here's how you can unlock some of the game's first secrets.

We're still in the earliest of early days for The Sims 4, but players have already begun to uncover some hidden treasures in the game. Most notably, there are two secret lots, one in each of the game's starting worlds — Willow Creek and Oasis Springs. GameFront has a solid step-by-step breakdown of how to unlock these two lots. I haven't tried these yet because I'm doing my best to play The Sims 4 at my own contemplative (read: sluggish) pace. But if you're already full to bursting with Sims, then at the very least this is one easy way to free up some space.

Now, you might be thinking to yourself: "Hey, this arsehole left out [insert favourite Sims 4 tweak]! What gives?" Well, since we're just getting started with the game, I've chosen to shy away from certain things. Cheat codes are being tossed about, and the modding community has taken the smallest of tentative steps into the new Simsgame. I'm going to wait until there's more solid material to sink my Sim teeth into before I take all of us down that road. The same goes for a full list of gameplay tips and, of course, our review of the game.

In the meantime, however, please don't hesitate to reach out about anything and everything cool you're seeing, playing or hearing about in The Sims 4.

post credit - https://www.kotaku.com.au/2014/09/small-ways-to-make-your-sims-4-experience-way-better/

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trespeak · 8 years ago

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�� The wonderful @raytaku tagged me for a meme thign. U da bes, Ray!

5 things you’ll find in my bag:

my iPad Air 2

my journal

a pair of Finn and Jake Funko Pop keychains (technically on the bag but w/e)

a fortune cookie to read on my radio show (except when I fucKING FORGET TO PUT ONE IN THERE)

no writing utensils, infuriatingly

5 things you’ll find in my bedroom:

posters (the ones I had up in my dorm before I moved out were these)

Adventure Time (Finn riding on Jake’s back with a sword and shield in front of their house)

Bravest Warriors

Daft Punk on the cover of Rolling Stone

the album art for 4x4=12 by deadmau5

Destiny: The Taken King

an Iron Giant print made for an on-campus screening

a stylized version of the O2 Arena in London

Regular Show

a 70′s style version of the Enterprise for Star Trek Beyond

the teaser poster for Scott Pilgrim vs. The World

a homemade Tiny and Big one

a promo poster for streaming the radio station I DJ on/volunteer at.

(I also want a Death Cab one and might end up printing myself a Scud the Disposable Assassin one and/or a Does It Offend You, Yeah? one. We’ll see.)

lots of old trash from food I haven’t bothered to clean up

an aging desktop rig and a Xbox One S

my fledgling collection of physical CDs, film and games:

Daft Punk’s Random Access Memories (first album I distinctly remember buying for myself)

Death Cab for Cutie’s Narrow Stairs (my favorite album ever, and a new addition)

Forza Horizon 3

Porter Robinson’s Worlds

Snakehips’s “All My Friends” single and remix EP

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (and the first two books in color and Seconds)

Sunset Overdrive

Turbo (that snail is fast)

White Sea’s In Cold Blood

Zedd’s Clarity (the Deluxe Edition)

a shit ton of cables and wires

5 things I’ve always wanted to do in life:

Git gud with a shit ton of music-related things (a more traditional DAW like Ableton or Logic, a MIDI controller like the Novation Launchpad or MIDI Fighter, turntables, etc.) and improve the quality of my production skills

Make a vidya gam! I have a license for GameMaker: Studio that’s kinda just lying around.

Start a podcast and streaming on Twitch/Beam/etc. Right now in the case of the former I actually do have a bit of a plan starting to come together (my working title is Late Night Game Night, and I’m gonna start with a six-episode season of fun little stories about games I love), but the latter has kind of hit a snag because I can’t get streaming to work on the networks in my dorm. We’ll see how it goes next year, I suppose.

Build myself a personal website that isn’t on Tumblr and doesn’t suck. (I’m actually kind of getting really close to this? I took a development class and it kind of lit the flame under my ass to teach myself how to get a site in working order.)

Go to E3, Coachella, Bonnaroo, Ultra Music Festival, Ibiza in general, Gamescom,

5 things that make me happy:

electronic music (holy CRAP yes, even beyond the stuff that’s gotten popular with the EDM revolution we’ve seen the past few years; a lot of my favorite artists are either kinda low-key or otherwise popular but without real mainstream success to speak of)

my Things (special interests) / characters in media that I end up heavily identifying with for whatever reason

when I scream about things I like on Twitter and actually get acknowledged by the creators of said things

my family and my friends, both here at home and in Kentucky

writing and being able to express myself through a variety of different means

5 things I’m currently into:

Scud: the Disposable Assassin (Drywall is my goddamn SON I love him so much y’all)

Pickle and Peanut (h8rs make me famous)

Gorillaz and Damon Albarn in general (Humanz has rekindled my love for Blur and Plastic Beach in a significant way)

Titanfall 2 (I’m loyal robot companion trash and I want to play it pretty badly even though I’ve spoiled myself on the plot)

Samurai Jack (I’mma get caught up real soon, I think)

5 things on my to do list:

get my finals done

read some comic books

apply for some jobs?

see how to go about getting college credit for an internship I’m doing over the summer

eat

5 things people may not know about me:

I have an off-the-wall universe of fictional stories focused around a really unusual place called Greyson City living in my head. The Stuck trilogy (which is 100% mine) and the Sparks spinoff series (created by my best friend, but developed with my help) are the core bits that really sorta serve as the foundation for it, but high school really pounded my ability to commit to because it was almost impossible to invest myself in it without having an adverse effect on my performance in classes. I’m slowly but surely coming around to the concept of coming back to it, though.

I make music. After the whole Stuck thing slowed down I needed a new creative outlet that I could still invest myself in without exhausting my ability to focus on my schoolwork when need be, and I found that music was much easier for me to do so with; I was still stimulating myself by getting into it, but it never ate into my time enough to have a negative effect on me the way my writing unintentionally did. I’d like to think I’ve gotten much better at it as time has gone by, too; my work has helped my personal projects stand out in college and is present throughout the near entirety of an indie film our film club made at school.

I was kind of an aggressive jerk when I was a kid; one time I punched a kid in the face in first grade for cutting me in line. (I feel like a fundamental change in personality happened with me between 1st and 2nd, and since then I’ve kind of just been a Soft Boy™ like most know me as today.)

In relation to the last point, I was bullied pretty ruthlessly in my earlier years, particularly during the second half of elementary school. I wouldn’t go so far as to say my experiences were something I’d choose to make happen if I had the option, but I do credit them for helping me develop a sense of empathy I probably wouldn’t have had (or at least been able to outwardly show) otherwise.

I’m tagging @rocketverliden, @ovisiphorus and @electro-bolt, and anyone else is welcome to do it too if they please

#treman's world #holy HIT this ballooned into a hell of a post #y'all can't say I don't talk about myself now >:3 #about me

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gretchensinister · 8 years ago

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The Apotheosis AU, in order

I think that to do a top five list of the Eldritch Guardians stories wouldn’t present anything I wanted to present, especially since most of the stories in that masterpost are really part of one larger story. So, instead of a list, what I have for you under the cut is the current most canonical version of the Apotheosis AU (sometimes known as the Eldritch Abomination Polyamorous Whatever AU).

Note: There are a few inconsistencies, which aren’t fixed here, but would be if I find the motivation to put this AU on Ao3. (Also, somehow tumblr ate the italics in this post. The links might be clearer if you find yourself having trouble interpreting some dialogue.)

The chapter titles are links to the standalone fics.

I truly hope you will enjoy revisiting this AU, or giving it a chance for the first time. It’s one of my favorites.

Summary: On a beautiful blue world full of minds, two ancient, ever-linked spirits of light and darkness allow themselves to become entangled with a group of other extraordinary beings. Though these other extraordinary beings are often afraid of what they could become, they all find each other in the end and after the end.

Prologue: vaster than empires and more slow

vaster than empires and more slow

***

they do not caress with hands, though they might have caressed with something close enough to hands a billion years ago, or two

out of curiosity

but they were not young then either

young? they do not remember being young, they enjoy getting older, they enjoy seeing time as great syrupy drops flowing up and down and sideways that might stick on their notskin for the other which is also the self to lick off with a nottongue, they are glad to be free from the clickclickclick traintrack of time that all the youngthings with their sweat and bark and tectonic movement and hydrogen fusion are caught in like—well they don’t really know what like. there is always a way out from where they notstand and notlook except the youngthings are never patient enough to find it and sometimes they wonder whythem?

and the goldlightsweet one knows and the blackshadowbitter one knows and what they know is the answer to whythem? and the answer is lovelovelove

perhaps longlong ago they cried and bled and sweat and salivated and ejaculated like the youngyoungyoung ones and somehow all their water flowed into a cosmic glass and something even they will never understand tasted it and knew them and said these ones must nevernever die they know something about love they know something about hate and to put it in a way that will not make sense for a very long time even by my measurements:

they are the real jet-fuel.

but perhaps they made themselves the way they are because they could not actually fuck each other to death nor could they make sweet and gentle love to each other to death, oh candy mouths and oh knifish claws and oh stardust hair and oh whipcord arms and oh those ripe and ready hills of flesh and oh the valleys deserve a longlong tongue and oh none of this was ever lethal though perhaps they thought it might be at the time. and since this was the only way they could see themselves dying in the tracks of time (clickclickclick) they leapt from the tracks most spectacularly and dieddidn’tdie oh what is a body and perhaps in those first moments after that is where the confusion between I and you began and perhaps in the second moments I and you were discarded forevermore

but of course this is not how it happened because that sounds all too human does it not?

perhaps they were never anything like any of the youngthings but then, how would light and shadow have learned to make shadow and light gasp like inspiration and come like creation?

only youngthings care how they came to be and they are more concerned with caring that they are and they are perfect opposites oh perfect perfect have you ever seen a more perfect darkness oh perfect perfect have you ever seen a more perfect shine please do not touch the other that perfection is for this one to obliterate thank you very much and perhaps this time it will be cold fire or hot ice or broken plates and sunrises but what matters is the return the return the return

they spread out into the luxurious and fragileopen minds of youngthing sleepers my what a finefine bed so soft and smooth and warm and the feardark feels the joylight grinning already, always greedy that one and the terroreater grins back even while sinking into that patchwork of desires and says softsmoothwarm like beautyglimmer yesyes? and the other laughs (oh slumbering poets here is a gift please do not spend it all in one place you would probably be thought insane) because they love the way each seems to the other on these molassesdark nights inside a billion egglike skulls and yesyesyes each other

and if the youngthings could comprehend they would no longer be troubled by the lack of I and you between them for without I and you is the only way they can be

and they are the death by lightning strike and they are the bloom of roses the size of pinky nails and they are water so cold it makes you drunk and they are the ever-shifting dunes that hide everything today and nothing tomorrow and they are squeaking the springs of brains like blakes and beethovens and little girls who suddenly realize grass is translucent in the setting sun but can’t bother with paper

and in an age or a moment or both they do not care, they have world enough and time, they shuddershudder oh yesyes sometimes it is goodgaspinggood to have an ending like the youngthings have

and a cavewoman thinks of fire and a cypress tree is outlined on a canvas meant to be covered in stars and a gun is aimed toward a mouth and xocolatl is mixed for the first time and Cain is not sorry and a Swiss man takes an unforgettable bicycle ride and the girl watching the grass begins to bother with paper and learns how to create a universe and fill it with pain and she laughs and they lovelovelove all of this and each other

oh it is a lovely world so good for play and as they curl through each other they know they will stay a longlong time as the tracks (clickclickclick) go and it will be eternity and just long enough for them.

Chapter 1: Avalanche

He was going to die. North closed his eyes, preferring the dark created by his eyelids to the dark in the small (all too small) air pocket deep within the tons upon tons of snow and ice that had slid down the face of the mountain just a few minutes before. The last thing he had seen clearly had been the blindingly white snow rushing toward him, the edge of the avalanche blurred so that it looked like it should have been as silent and light as a cloud on a summer’s day. Instead, it had sounded like thunder and had knocked him off Petrov, thrown him up and down and around until, now, when he was still, he didn’t know which way he was facing. He knew what one was supposed to do in this situation. Spit into your hand. Dig in the direction away from where the spit rolls. But the avalanche had buried him too densely. His arms were trapped, his hands were numb. And it was very, very dark. He was probably too far down to dig himself out even if he did know which way to go. And so even though he knew what he was supposed to do, all he could think of was the other thing he knew: he knew that he only had a few breaths left. He began to grow afraid. How large had the avalanche been? There was a village nearby—had the snow buried it too? What had happened to Petrov? And—had it been his fault? Had one too-loud laugh brought the mountain down? Something seemed to shift around him and he opened his eyes, but, if anything, the air pocket was darker than before. still no self? not like others could becomebecome but need to live longlong ordinary first It was a voice. It was not a voice. It was the smell of smoke from a burning house, it was the sting of the cuts ice had made on his face and neck, it was the taste of someone else’s blood in his mouth. He understood it. curiouscurious what will you be have to find out is your mind like your tallstrongbrownbeardbody? goldkindness will laughunderstand but/still told you were one to watch was right right always right smug little but donotmind keep your eyesopen now –and without warning he was standing on top of the snow, Petrov’s bridle in his hand. His heart pounded in his chest, and in the clear air he still felt unable to breathe. His hands shook, and what he knew now was that he was in the grip of physical terror. He had never felt it before. And something, something had never seen him that way before, and liked what it saw now. He made his way to the village feeling as if he was moving as slowly as the glacier in the distance, without uttering a sound. *** He invited both Old Men to become Guardians. Sandy said yes, and Pitch said no, and he wondered if their answers meant anything, and which one should concern him more.

Chapter 2: Wood, Breaking, Waking

Talking, talking, talking. Drowned Boy saying the name Pitch. Answering. Easy to keep this going, but Drowned Boy doesn’t seem to know about everything else going on, strange, strange, what did he think had happened three hundred years ago? Pitch watches him with eyes while the rest thinks and reaches out and finds oh how more than strange, there isn’t much of the Drowned Boy anywhere except that remade human body, does he think that’s him? How sad what torture and surely his anger is understandable now a sleepy voice near the core, so warm so good, shiver and uncurl on planes the Drowned Boy really isn’t aware of? Really? really yes really understand know what he thinks? oh now yes sorry sorry must have looked terrible but being so distant so long very unkind and hard to figure out otherways when shining bodyshaped could have asked sunlaughter black scales raising, black scales being patted down Can never think of that without…you? it’s okay it’s okay, no need for that word, didn’t hurt for very long, let it happen, saw understanding trouble (and missed this, feels sort of like inside, inside means a lot after wearing a body for a long time) summer nights as warm as arterial blood and Pitch asks the Drowned Boy to join him, barely remembers to call him Jack instead and maybe doesn’t get the tone quite right. More laughter beyond lengthwidthdepthtime but it hasn’t worked anyway not all bodies so easy shh shh if he thinks there was destruction then how will he agree? And when will he know? And… Pitch and the rest notice that the staff is also the Drowned Boy, is also real wood, too, not just the thought of it like the Drowned Boy’s body is the memory of flesh. Yes that’s the way maybe he’ll see then and what is there to bargain with? What does the Drowned Boy want other than what was offered? Oh yes here it is, a piece of one of the others. A miscalculation, and Pitch throws the piece away instead of putting it back with the others, and the Drowned Boy is talking more, always more talking, but he doesn’t have the staff anymore, or at least he doesn’t think he does. Bizarre. It really is only wood, though the Drowned Boy is in it. Pitch holds it near the ends and starts to bend it and the Drowned Boy groans. It hurts? How can he not understand that his body is only what he thinks it is, then? Pitch pushes and pushes and the wood cracks and splinters, loud in the Antarctic silence for a moment or two only, before Jack’s cries of pain drown it out. He’s doubled over, writhing in the snow, he’s screaming and why is he like this he let it go the ice left it only thing he’s had to hang onto his whole existence other than his name The crackling becomes audible again as the Drowned Boy’s screams turn to keens and whimpers and gasps. he’s not going to get it he’s never realized he died I think you should get it over with “I” the idea is painful and even if the Drowned boy doesn’t understand anything Pitch and the rest does and the staff is at once cracked in two, for Pitch has never been able to fix, this is the best Pitch’s hands can do. The break is usually bad, but never as bad as the process of severing. The two pieces of the staff are left behind and a little warmth returns to all of Pitch. will probably have to leave again before Jack understands couldn’t stand this permanently of course The lie and the disbelief of it are paired particles. just no “I” no more “I” then stop being a “you”, tarhorror *** When next seen, the Drowned Boy has made the broken staff whole again. He knows he’s been dead. when brightvision when?—The question asked from a used body to a new one. just a week just a week comes the thought from the fading dream we’ll have fun waking him up to himself and practice with your body beforehand, dearterror

Chapter 3: carefulcareful

He knows he is awake, for he is looking out his window at the lights and towers that form part of North’s workshop and seeing them with a clarity he would not have in dreams. This knowledge does not comfort him. He thinks he might have woken because he wanted to turn over, but he cannot do that. He cannot flex his toes, he cannot clench his fists. He cannot scream, though he wants to. He cannot make even that small movement. He feels like he is suffocating, but the feeling goes on too long for that to be true. Maybe—maybe he just cannot feel himself breathing. He thinks his heart might be pounding now, but he cannot feel that either. Is this permanent? He wonders, panic growing in his mind. What’s happened to him? Slowly, along with the panic, a chill and oily terror begins to seep into his consciousness. A large, large shadow flows across the window and his fear spikes. He knows, without knowing how, that the shadow is looking at him. Of course! That would explain everything. The Guardians had warned him about Pitch when Jack became one of them. Paralyzing Jack and then feeding off his fear would be something he would do, as much as anyone could predict what Pitch would do. He just needed to figure out how to call for help— His thoughts are interrupted when what feels like a cool and muscular tendril of flesh wraps around his ankle. If Pitch wants his fear, he’s getting all Jack has to give right now. Help! Anyone! Jack screams in his mind, and, almost instantly, he feels another presence enter the room. He spots a glimmer out of the corners of his eyes and feels golden-colored laughter splash into the shadows pooling in his mind. Sandy! He’s not the rescuer Jack would have expected or hoped for, but he’ll take him. carefulcareful The voice is quiet and echoes in his mind, and Jack can tell Sandy is speaking to Pitch, not him. he’s new why else here? replies an even softer voice that soundfeels like spider legs and makes Jack want to shudder, though of course he still can’t. am careful—can’t move Laughter like sunlight reflecting on water. but he’s awake getting clumsy and why that physical foolishness on his leg of course he’s awake that’s how this is done show what clumsy is later oldmanenemyloverotherhalfself and all his terms are physical right now he’s only three hundred babychildsproutnebula Jack is suddenly struck by memories of watching lightning in the distance and the taste of lemony sour-sweetness, and he has the uncomfortable feeling that Sandy has just kissed Pitch. would break him now then no matter what done Sandy’s voice is warm and comforting, but Jack wishes he could yell for North now more than ever. A wave of frustration from Pitch. new things so rare not fair have as much time as wanted Lavender and honey. shh shh will share learningknowingJack understand temptation very well is very strong meet him together soonsoon Pitch pleads. soonsoon Sandy agrees. being carefulcareful remember did not like what happened with Bunny not used to carefulcareful with mind not shinygoldkindpretty Kaleidoscope smile. physical first then but both oh shadowbruteimpatient Taste of licorice and joy of sinking toes into cool mud on a hot day. Jack’s not sure he wants to know what that was. Sandy again. so let him go now And suddenly they are both gone—along with the thing on his leg—and Jack takes a gasping breath and tries to scream, though it comes out as more of a wheeze. He throws off the covers and paces around the room just because he can. Sandy and Pitch are totally, completely gone. Shouldn’t beings like them leave some trace? Jack shakes his head. What the hell just happened? Now, he’s glad his scream didn’t come out. He has no idea how he would explain any of this to North. But he realizes after a few moments that he’s going to have to. It sounded like the other Guardians went through similar…initiations? And he wants to be as prepared as possible. He rests his face in his hands. How on earth was he supposed to start that conversation? “So, I think I’ve been recruited into a threesome with a couple of cosmic horrors—or you know, one cosmic horror and one cosmic joy, but close enough…”

Chapter 4: maybemaybe when you’re older

“Oops,” Jack says, pulling away from the gray-skinned, basically human form Pitch has taken on for this “experiment” and biting his lip nervously as he looks at the whitish spot of frostnip he’s left on the side of his neck. why’dyouwhy’dyou stopstop? Two voices, asking the exact same question, bloom in his mind and echo against each other and Jack sits up, alarmed. “W-will you quit that!” He looks from Pitch to Sandy, who seems to be a small, chubby, golden man sitting at the foot of the bed, with an expression of amused curiosity on his face. “You both have mouths now!” Sandy sticks out his tongue and Pitch laughs aloud, while Jack suddenly tastes durian and raspberries, falls from a great height, is brushed all over with feathers, bites something that was supposed to be soft and turned out to be crunchy, and watches light slowly seep through a prism until it splits into a thousand thousand colors, not in the usual order of the rainbow. In the real room—though how real it is he has absolutely no idea—he sees large shadowy fractal-like forms flowing out from the gray-skinned body flicker in and out of his view, as well as glimpses of the incredibly complex gold and crystalline architecture that surrounds Sandy in far more than four dimensions. He goes even paler than normal and presses his hands to the side of his head. A soft keening escapes from his throat. shh shh Sandy’s voice tells him, and something happens and the sensory onslaught ends, including his visions of the Dreamers as they really are. Sandy smiles and switches from sitting to lying on his belly, resting his face in his hands and kicking his little feet in the air. “hhhhwhyyyy should uzzze mouths when you sssssstopped using yours?” Pitch asks. “I—I got distracted while I was…kissing your neck…” Jack trails off faintly for a moment. Everything about that statement seems improbable when applied to Pitch, from the idea of kissing to the presence of a neck. “And I accidentally gave you frostnip.” Pitch glances at Sandy, who shrugs. “It’s an injury,” Jack explains, talking quickly. “When the skin gets frozen. It causes itching, pain. And it can discolor the skin.” ooooh want to see Sandy crawls up the bed and leans across Pitch’s chest, turning his head so he can look at the place on Pitch’s neck where Jack had been kissing him. Gently, he touches his tongue to it. cold! Pitch wraps his arm around the shoulders of his counterpart’s small avatar and Jack can tell he’s looking at the frostnip as well, though he tries not to think about what’s really going on that makes it possible for Pitch to look at his own neck without a mirror. veryvery interesting Pitch says. why not on goldsmoothdeliciousskin? just as distracted watched veryvery closely grayskin fragile fragile! Sandy nuzzles his shoulder and wiggles in his grip. no practice making body no knowing frost is cold tallterrortoy The sensation Jack gets from Pitch when Sandy calls him that makes him blush, but is also so incredibly inhuman that he starts shaking involuntarily. “Sh-should I go?” he asks, though he doesn’t know how they got to this room or how to leave. nono they both answer, looking at each other for a long moment before turning their eerie gold and silver gazes on Jack. make manymany more frostnips Pitch says, stretching out on the bed. Sandy nods. never that kind of painfeeling before time for more now make new grayskin if too much He possessively runs a slender finger along the line of Jack’s jaw. want you now veryvery curious not fair light have you while shadow did not Jack gulps. “So, uh, Sandy’s not joining us for this part?” Laughter like bubbles formed by an orca’s breaching. togethertogether would kill you if all enjoying Sandy says. maybemaybe when you’re older He pats Jack’s hair as he directs him to the other side of Pitch’s neck, before settling back to take his turn watching.

Chapter 5: All of Summer in an Hour

“Do you ever miss anything about being human?” Tooth asks, trailing her fingers in one of the Warren’s streams of sparkling clear water. More each day, Jack thinks, but doesn’t say. He’d rather not have that conversation with all three of them at once. Then again, it’s not like Tooth’s question wouldn’t have been uncomfortable even if he wasn’t beginning to discover just how far the consequences of his death truly reached. “I…I’ve been able to make up for most of the things I missed since I’ve become a Guardian,” he answers. “Surely there must be something you still want?” North looks up from the small carving he’s been working on. “We will find way to give it to you.” He settles back against the mossy boulder, looking more relaxed than Jack’s ever seen him, without his coat or boots, and with a few braids in his beard courtesy of the mini fairies. In a few moments they’re going to give him a flower crown—a little while ago Jack had caught Bunny whispering to them where the best flowers were. “Well…there is one thing I used to miss, but I think I’m getting over it now that—” a memory threatens to overwhelm him “—I have believers.” “Hugs? We’ll give you those, Frost, no problem.” Bunny grins at him and Jack smiles back. At first he had been surprised how quickly Bunny had warmed up to him after their rocky start when he joined the Guardians, but now, he realizes that everything about those three days had been enough to throw even the most stable being off their normal behavior. Then again, he thinks, maybe Bunny could already sense then the…potential…I seem to have. “I’m not getting over those,” Jack says. “But…okay, it has to do with why I like hanging out in the Warren so much.” He pauses for so long that Tooth has to prompt him to go on. “It’s like this.” He rolls over on his stomach and starts picking at the lush grass, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Ever since I got my memories back, I’ve missed…summer. I loved the long days, the feeling of the sun on my skin, the bright deep green everywhere, the thick blue of the sky overhead…it was my favorite season. I can’t go where the summer is now, though. It makes me feel sick. Weak.” Though maybe not for long. “So that’s why I like being in the Warren. I know that it’s more glorious than any summer outside, and it’s not too hot. But I still miss…I still miss the real summer sky.” They are all silent for a time, and Jack looks up, trying to gauge how embarrassed he should be. But North simply winks at him. “We will work on that,” he says. Jack smiles and flips onto his back again. If North can manage it, Jack’s sure he’ll do it right. Not like the— doyoulike doyoulike know you want heart’sdesire and this is the blue the gloryglory blue and he was drowning in it, the blue feels just like drowning, though yes it is glorious of course it’s glorious but with the sun in that summer sky surrounding him, speaking to him, touching, of course touching, his skin with a warmth so like his memories but burning like a brand— gift from Sandy. Beautiful and terrible, all of summer in an hour. And still he wishes he could stand the glory. And still he dreads the certainty that one day he will be able to.

Chapter 6: Patience

“Jack!” North calls, surprised and pleased to see the new Guardian standing in the globe room. “How did you get in? Usually the yetis will tell me if anyone is at the main entrance.” “By ‘anyone’, you mean the other Guardians, right?” Jack is more subdued than usual, though to North, something about his manner seems odd, as if he’s fighting to be subdued. He wonders if this visit had anything to do with the Old Men and decides to try to bring up the idea of his talking with them again. Now, though, Jack’s question deserves an answer. “I suppose, yes, that is what I mean,” North says, pulling on his beard as he walks up to Jack so they can have a conversation at a normal level. “But who else would want to visit? After all, when you were first offered Guardianship, you were right when you said we were all hard work and deadlines. The Workshop is wonderful, but it is always busy.” “North,” Jack begins, laughing once without any real mirth, “I wasn’t kidding when I said that I’d been trying to bust in here for years. The yetis—they always kept me out. And—of course I wanted to visit! For a long time, you were the only one, you know, sort of human, that I thought would be able to see me. I needed that. I…” “I’m sorry, Jack,” North says, putting a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I know the past cannot be undone. Can you forgive me? I may be the most human, as you say, but as an immortal…as a Guardian…my thoughts have changed from what they used to be. Companionship is something I know I do not think about as much as I used to. I should have realized, with you so young… “But you say you needed that. Past tense. Are things better now?” Jack leans on his staff. “I’m not sure. Look, North, the yetis would let you know if someone came in through the main entrance. That’s where they always stopped me before. And they could stop me. But they didn’t tell you I was here today because I didn’t come in through the main entrance. I got in…I got in through one of the walls of ice.” “This is something you couldn’t do before,” North guesses, and Jack nods. “Before, the ice was always something I could use, but now it feels like a part of me. I didn’t know I could do it before today,” he adds quickly. “Is there anything else you want to tell?” North asks, his gaze shrewd. “You know your shoulder felt colder than it has. You also know who are the only others able to show up here uninvited.” “There’s nothing to tell that I understand,” Jack says, looking down at his feet. He thinks he’d like to keep them. He’s used to them. “I saw my body buried. I can’t forget that anymore. I want to be worried about it, but worry has always been difficult for me, and now it’s almost impossible.” He looks up at North and grins. “I think I’m growing up. I think I’m getting old.” “But the children? Your believers?” North refuses to show fear. “I’ll be a Guardian,” Jack concedes, and North can hear the wind in his voice more than ever before. “But when there aren’t any more children, I don’t think I’ll stop being what I’ve become.” He catches North’s eyes with the ones like those he had as a human boy. “And I think I might not be the only one. They like all of us, you know. But they’re patient.”

Chapter 7: Silver Strands

If I don’t do this now, I won’t be able to do it later. Jack paces back and forth on the frozen surface of a small pond far away from any human habitation. Fractal patterns of frost, like idealizations of ferns, spread from where his feet touch and vanish as soon as he takes his next step. He doesn’t look down at them anymore, though. When he had started pacing, he had watched the patterns form and seen that they were perfect down to the atomic level, even when the structure of the water molecules should have prevented that. He didn’t want to see those things, to know he could see those things. Now, he looks out at the evergreen trees and the distant mountains or up at the feathers of clouds tossed in long white plumes over the hard blue sky. He remembers when such a scene seemed infinitely complex, infinitely beautiful, joy in every angle of every needle on the trees. Now, it’s still lovely, but if he wants to see infinity in it again…well. He knows he’d have to open his eyes in a way he’s not quite used to yet. In a way that tends to draw a certain amount of attention. That’s the last thing he wants today. It’s not like they would be jealous—he’s pretty sure they can’t be jealous—but they aren’t him. He’s still separate, damn it all! And he has to go to Bunny alone. It’s the only way he even has a chance of getting him to listen. And that means he has to do it soon. *** “Hi, Bunny,” he says, leaning on his staff. He hopes he’s entered the Warren in some usual way—looking at Bunny, he’s so nervous, he doesn’t actually remember. Bunny turns and greets Jack with a smile, as he’s done more and more often recently. He’s been tending some of the plants in the garden, though, since it is a very old garden, all the work done there is really for pleasure, and not, strictly speaking, necessary. Though he knows he doesn’t have a physical heart, Jack feels his leap and pound. What is he going to say? He had a plan, didn’t he? “What’s up, Frost? Having a good day? Must be getting on Winter up there now, right? “Yes—” Jack has no idea what to say. Bunny is—Bunny is beautiful. Well, he had started to think that a while ago, but now—how had he not noticed? There’s a glow about him, a glow of pure life, and when he breathes everything in the Warren breathes with him, everything on Earth breathes with him. Jack can feel it washing over him, better than summer heat. And more than that, he can see now the silvery billions of strands of hope shining away from Bunny’s head and heart and they shimmer in the glow too and some are passing through him, Jack— “You’re so beautiful,” Jack gulps, because he really is, overwhelmingly so. “May I?” He asks, and reaches out his free hand to touch lightly upon the hopes—does Bunny do this too? He wonders. He must, and he must play the most beautiful music in the world upon them. Bunny frowns in puzzlement as Jack moves his hand through the empty air. “Uh, mate? What was that you were saying?” Jack looks back at him. “I mean it! And I’m not just saying it because—” he focuses entirely on summoning his courage—“I love you. But I do love you.” Bunny’s jaw drops and his eyes widen. Jack hopes that’s a good sign, and he sees the silvery strand wave like a ribbon in a breeze from his chest to Bunny’s. He blushes, and Bunny closes his mouth, his expression turning solemn. “Follow me, Jack,” he says. Still hopeful, so hopeful—can’t Bunny feel it? Jack follows him to a still pool. “Look down, Jack,” he says, and Jack does. He’s gone as clear as crystal, the shadows of his body only stylized marks of frost now. His clothes are gone, and within his living ice he can see slow drifts of snowflakes, like insects in amber, spiraling slowly out from concentrations where his brain and heart were when he was human. His eyes shimmer like the Northern lights, and as he looks into them, for an instant he doesn’t think he looks any different. After that instant, he gasps—though of course he doesn’t need to. Beside him and his light, Bunny barely reflects. “You’re beautiful too,” he says. “But I don’t think it’ll work out between us.” “But—Bunny!” Jack looks at him, eyes wide and frantic. Yes, outside of the reflection, Bunny still looks the way Jack saw him before. “No! You’re—if you could see what I see—” Bunny holds up one broad paw. “Jack. Please. Don’t tell me.” He looks into Jack’s eyes and smiles a little sadly. “I’m a bunny. I’ve worked hard to stay that way.” “I—I don’t have to be like this, Bunny! I just got—distracted.” “Jack. This is who you are now. And I know it wasn’t your idea. But I can’t take your love like this.” Jack hangs his head, the human gestures still most familiar to him now. “I’m sorry.” “It’s not your fault, Frostbite. I’ll still—I’ll still talk with you about it. Not here, though. Winter—you’re managing to freeze parts of even this garden.” Jack bites his lip, looking down, and he swears he can see Bunny’s light shimmer off the movement of the pliant crystal of his face. Why won’t he let himself know? He nods. “See you round, old man,” he hears Bunny say, as he leaves the Warren slowly, physically—courteously. Still, he can’t help but notice that the strand of hope between them narrows, but does not break.

Chapter 8: Valentine’s Day

The liquidblazing light that cannot melt this crystal ice and the darkdrowning shadow that heats it press and seep and shiver and squeeze and tickle and tongue (a word quite ridiculous for all involved at this moment, none have had anything like a tongue for hours and hours now) and nip and caress all around and all through this new crystalthing, crystalboy nomore how limited limited! And feathersoft gold and stolenmolasses blackness are enjoying this as they ever have, even when the crystalthing didn’t even think he was a crystalboy and thought himself just a boy; inspiration and panic flowing in heavinggasping waves over a thousand million minds awake and sleeping, screams of terror and songs of joy all the moans they don’t make, free of mouths and throats as they are (save when necessary, such as to calm the crystalboy frostboy iceboy who when they started still had matter still had a taste and though that is little compared to what they could know of him if he let them it is still veryvery worth knowing and perhaps they were a bit too greedygreedy with him for both abandoning his face shivered his consciousness across the sky and he was so reluctant to let his body go then and they had had to wait sillyboy sillybody) But even in their ecstasy they are so soslow and careful verycareful now and even as light blushesrushes across gladly spangled shadow and even as the inky living night pours startled, startled even after thirteen billion years, give or take, giveandtake, sillyshadow sosweet, over the brighter than sunfire brilliance smirking in their noplace bower, they are bringing up the crystalthing, up and up, higher and higher, getting him to forget boy, forget frostboy, forget iceboy, forget crystalboy, become crystalthing because only crystalthing can withstand, only crystalthing can enjoy and doesn’t he want to take all they can give, give all that they can take? yesyesyes he says in a language they don’t quite know yet and they smile in all the ways they can because this is his language, his crystalthing language, he has forgotten the partial language he had always insisted on before, he has forgotten being anything else other than the crystalthing, prismatic ice full of sharp edges and curling fractals and joyjoyjoy. But they don’t just want him to forget what he was before in being what he is now and will be foreverever with them oh sharpcoollaugher how did they ever get by without him? They want him to accept himself the new way he is, to smile but believe them when they tell him he fills the universe. And so they stop. Everything. Just for a moment. Even the turning Earth stills under them. And suddenly they are swimming in a space like a wide-open blue eye that sees them both and his smile runs allover them and, still Jack, he’ll keep his name thanks, he pulls them to him, ice bolder than before surprising even steadybrightness into a flickergiggle. Impressedjealous midnight stops holding back at all at all; dreaming starshine does the same very same. Their grins are wicked as they reach out nothands to dimensions Jack hasn’t had until now, nevertouched. *** The blizzard that February sets records. The weather forecasters make jokes about it keeping everyone inside on Valentine’s Day and November babies. They’re right, but they wouldn’t have been if the blizzard had been alone, and people hadn’t been falling into the most delicious dreams and waking from the most fascinating nightmares.

Chapter 9: GrowRunGrow

They lie close together, facing each other, a strong but uncertain March breeze blowing over them. Above them, clouds stream past, and only brief moments of sunlight illuminate gray-green grass that hasn’t quite started growing yet–the real world isn’t as comfortable as the Warren, but without discussing it they’d both decided it was best that they should meet on neutral ground. “What’re you thinking about?” Bunny asks. Lately, he’s been feeling like he could find that out without asking, but that’s not something he’s ever done before, so he doesn’t do it. “Kissing you,” says Jack. “Oh really?” Bunny smiles wryly at him, and Jack looks away, making Bunny wish he could re-do his response. Even though Jack was always the one to pull away from their kisses–sometimes violently–that didn’t mean that he necessarily wanted to. “I wish I could explain,” Jack had said. “But I can’t. I just…can’t. "You want to try again?” Bunny asks quietly. “Yes,” Jack says, with a smile small but deep, a smile that looks like The Smile, though what Bunny means by that he isn’t sure, and he doesn’t have time to figure out because then Jack is kissing him. As always, Jack’s kisses start out light, tentative, but there’s something about today, about Jack, about Bunny, that makes him bolder than he’s ever been before. Bunny thinks he might even dare to put his arms around Jack, to touch his cool skin, even though the last time he had tried to do so Jack had stopped everything at once. And then Jack’s tongue is in his mouth and Jack’s fingers are digging through the fur of his chest down to the heated skin, and they forget themselves. *** icesmile and windlaughter and growrungrow so strong and warm this is lifenewing this is what it is melt the ice and drink the water take the worldjoy within hasn’t it been offered it’s in your mouth but no the exultingcold will not be melted the ice will not flow the ice is sending frost over all the sproutthoughts beautiful to perceive but still such delicacy is violence this sharpedged joy is the enemy why cannot it soften to languor to the swift free tongue of new swollen streams with blooming banks oh surely just a little more heat would melt it summer’s edge would cut it but the cold pushes back back back *** Bunny raises his head with what feels like a groan, feeling like one of the stone sentinel eggs has been jumping on him. Some yards away, Jack lies, or at least what Bunny’s going to call Jack to make things simpler. His skin seems to glitter, and Bunny can see the grass right through him, but he’s not sure if that’s Jack’s body or his own eyes. Jack shifts, and so does his body. Bunny calls his name, but only leaves fall from his mouth. He shakes himself, trying to get oriented, and when the wind from his doing so hits the grass, it turns a bright, healthy green, just like that on which he woke. “Jack!” This time it’s a sound, and he approaches Jack slowly, not wanting to shake himself loose. Jack pushes himself to his knees, then to his feet. His staff is somehow with him again, and he leans on it heavily. “So,” he says when Bunny’s about five feet from him, “you’re like me now.” “I…” Bunny looks down to see tiny flowers growing throughout his fur. “Not exactly like you,” he finally says. “I suppose no one could be.” The longer Bunny watches Jack, the more his skin looks like skin, but it never quite gets there, as if Jack can’t be bothered anymore. “I was worried that I would hurt you, before.” “You probably would have. But I think we’re even now.” Jack smiles sadly. “I know this isn’t what you wanted.” “I don’t know if it could have been stopped,” Bunny says. “But I don’t think you did it. You were always so careful. I could almost forget that you were…becoming.” “So what do we do now, as Winter and Spring?” *** “If light and darkness can hold it together, so can we,” Bunny says decisively. He notices his armor is back on his arms and legs, but he doesn’t remember buckling it on. Jack nods slowly. “And…” “And so I’m going to ask. And what’s more, they’re going to answer.” He smiles briefly at Jack. “I think I don’t have to worry about surviving the asking anymore.”

Chapter 10: Going To Be

“I hope you still like hot chocolate.” Jack wakes to find Bunny holding a mug toward him, his whole posture stiff with embarrassment. Jack smiles up at him from their bed of soft grass. It’s surprisingly still lush and green, especially since Jack had been pressed against it in a rather heightened state several hours before. Usually, even Bunny’s magic couldn’t prevent vegetation from growing at least autumnal in Jack’s presence when they spent the night together. What did it mean that he’d solved that problem? Jack sits up, accepts the cup and wiggles his shoulders. He absolutely does not want to think about that question right now. He wants to peacefully have his chocolate, that’s all. Well, and then maybe, probably, have his Bunny again. “Absolutely nothing could prevent me from liking hot chocolate,” Jack says. “No matter how much—” damn it, he didn’t want to bring this up, why was it so impossible not to? “—no matter how much I change.” “Included that in the terms and conditions before you signed, huh?” Jack laughs in relief. If Bunny could make jokes about the change now, maybe they could actually talk about it, and not in the way they always had before, which was always so sad and serious and vague. “Of course! It couldn’t have gone ahead without a forty-page contract signed by all parties in triplicate,” Jack says. When Bunny laughs this time, it sounds bitter. “Good to know you knew what you were getting into.” “Aw, Bunny, come on, it was just a little joke. I mean, what else can we do? Is it really…is it really so awful for you to think about?” Bunny sighs, smiles at Jack a little, and flops down on the grass. “It scares me and it makes me do things that don’t make sense,” he says. “Like last night. I brought over the hot chocolate as part of my apology. I’m sorry I wasn’t myself when we were together last night. Remember that time we got together, a few months ago? When we were kind of outside ourselves, Winter and Spring instead of Jack and Bunny. That terrified me. I want to press my nose against your neck and smell your sweat, not—I don’t know—be the feeling of the first crocus of the season pushing through lingering snow, or whatever. So I tried to keep things as physical as possible and I pretty much lost it and was just an animal with you. And I’m sorry about that. I won’t do it again, no matter what else I’m worried about.” Jack takes a sip of his drink and smiles at Bunny from under a chocolate mustache. “You’ll notice I certainly didn’t stay awake to complain after we were done,” he says. “You’re very, very welcome to fuck me like that again—as soon as I finish my drink, if you want. But sure, I would like it if you didn’t try to be just an animal—it’ll probably be better for you and you can pay attention to me calling you Aster.” “Ah, there you go, but really, Jack—it was something I shouldn’t have done. I don’t want it to be meaningless when I’m with you, but that’s what I was trying, because meaning affects more than just our brains and hearts these days. And I’m scared. I worked hard to get used to this body and the powers I have. But then again…” he looks away. “The more I try to hold back any changes, the farther we drift apart. The more you lower yourself to be with me. I don’t like it Jack. I don’t like it at all.” His voice grows quieter. “How could Springtime go on if its Guardian isn’t so earthly anymore?” “You know…I’m scared too,” Jack says. “I don’t know how I’m going to be like the Old Men and still myself, either. But still…I know I’m changing. I know I’m changing a lot. Maybe more than you realize, because I haven’t shown you. It’s easier to hide and control than I thought it would be. The Old Men just don’t care, I guess.” He digs his toes into the grass. “Okay, where I was going with that was that even though I’m changing, there’s something about me that I know has stayed the same. Sometimes…when all I am is a miles-wide laugh and the wind is blowing right through me and I can feel every point of every snowflake forming…I feel like I’m only more of myself. If I…if I’m not making you change, somehow, if the potential is in you already…you’re not going to be destroyed.” He moves as if to reach for Bunny’s hand, then hesitates. “You’re going to be amazing.” “C’mere, Jack,” Bunny says, patting the grass in front of him. “You know, if you want to while I’m still just all right.” Jack gulps his hot chocolate and snuggles close to Bunny. “You want me to tell you you’re amazing now? I can do that. And…uh…so you’re pretty sure I’m not making you change?” “If that was the case, I’m sure it would be easier for me to notice,” Bunny says. He wraps an arm around Jack’s shoulders. “And I know it wasn’t you that kept the grass green last night.” Bunny takes a deep breath. “Guess I was even less wise than I thought. I can’t even pretend to be just an animal anymore. And if I was counteracting what you usually do while trying to make it impossible for myself to realize I was doing something like that…I don’t know. Could’ve caught us both off-guard.” He rests his chin on the top of Jack’s head. “I want to make sure you’re safe, Jack, but what if I’m the one most likely to hurt you? You make me so happy, but I don’t know how to be with all of Joy, all of Winter.” “I guess I can only hope you’ll figure it out,” Jack says, nuzzling against Bunny’s chest. “Do you think maybe for now you’ll be able to accept that my laugh might be more like a late frost sparkling in a spring dawn and that my sweat might taste like snowmelt?” “I suppose so,” Bunny says. “Especially because I can tell already that you don’t mind me making you grow.”

Chapter 11: Hopscotch

They call what they do by the name of a child’s game, because there aren’t any words for it, and they haven’t quite let go of such things yet—Jack, because he loves to talk to more people than just the four or five or six (or maybe more, it’s hard to count them and really he is quite young) that could understand him otherwise, Bunny, because he can’t quite believe he’s following Jack on this path, and even sometimes leading. It’s better for a rabbit to lead games of leaping, isn’t it? There are all the neat numbers to follow, numbers of months and years, numbers that say this planet can bloom with a million million kinds of life, numbers that say yes but for part of the year there will be death, death to set off the life that stays like jewels, like the bright red berries that are part of what remains. These are the numbers that Bunny knew about always, but they are not the only numbers. There are numbers that say, this is the way everything can stay together even when it should be flying apart, this is the way that from a different view everything is flying apart. Bunny thinks those numbers have nothing to do with him, and maybe even not Jack; he won’t throw any stones onto them and he begs Jack not to either, he doesn’t want them to bring it all to an end by accident, especially not while waiting on Tooth and North. And Jack says—well, not exactly says, but he asks Bunny in a language clearer but more incomprehensible than words, how does he think he’s going to mess things up when even the Old Men haven’t managed yet. And Bunny grumbles as a thunderstorm and Jack laughs the rain to lashing. But there are more numbers to play with than this and they, amazingly, compromise more often now that they’ve become. There are the numbers that say six petals instead of five, two eyes instead of three, a beak shaped like this and not that. Numbers that say the treetops here won’t touch, but the treetops there will, that have the vine going one one two three five eight thirteen instead of anything else, that an apple will be sweet or sour, white or yellow or green or red or purple. These are the numbers Bunny will play with, though he never knew them as numbers before; if he can see them differently now, well, everything’s different now so what are a few numbers to everything else? And Jack wants to play, Jack wants to throw stones or whatever they’re really throwing onto these numbers, for them to leap and hop around and leave trails that no one sees but everything feels behind them. Bunny will play this game, yes indeed, it’s nothing but growth and change, and if it’s more than what he ever saw before, well, he’ll face that, he’ll laugh and leap through it before or after Jack, he’ll jump over the stones that aren’t stones and let them grow and change like the seeds they aren’t either, let them say seven petals instead of six. Let all the eggs hatch, let all the seeds sprout. It’s what he’s always loved, and if the way he loves is different now, it’s more a gift of Jack’s than the fault of his, isn’t it? And Jack, Jack, Jack the Drowned Boy, Joyful Jack, winterlaugher, this Jack, his Jack—if he’s playing at death now with the stones and seeds he throws into the numbers, he’s only doing so because he knows Bunny’s beside him, playing at life. No wonder he couldn’t stop asking, before. Much wonder that Bunny was so reluctant to join.

Chapter 12: Feather

North lets his eyes drift closed as Toothiana curls closer to him, carefully tracing her fingers over the tattoos on his arms. It’s a relief to feel the press of those delicate fingertips making their way over familiar paths, to have this quiet, calm moment, to know that they’re creating a peaceful space for each other in the midst of the turmoil of the outside world and the strangeness encroaching in upon them from every side. He feels himself floating off when something about Tooth’s hand on his arm makes his eyes snap open again. It doesn’t feel like just her hand anymore—it feels like feathers, other fingers, and other smaller hands all brushing and stroking the lines of ink. He looks at Tooth’s hand, then at Tooth. Her hand looks the same as it always does, and her expression is calm. “This is how we make love,” she says, raising her eyes to North’s. She continues, her voice dreamy: “Just this way, more than the moments before, as we followed such foolish demands as our bodies made of us.” “Tooth…” North isn’t sure what to say. In some ways she’s right, but he’d hoped… “Are we not our bodies, at least in part?” He gently presses her closer to him for a moment, trying to gain some reassurance from the smooth warmth of her feathers. She is still physical. So gloriously physical. So wonderfully present. He feels her sigh against him. “You are. I’m not.” Understanding what she means, he doesn’t speak, feeling a lump forming in his throat. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” she says, resting her cheek against his chest. “I don’t know when it happened. But it was coming on for a long time, you must realize. The fairies—I’ve always been a network, North. Not as human as you. It’s probably why I didn’t notice the change until they were all there with me, welcoming me.” “How poor I must seem to you now,” North whispers. “Mere flesh daring to touch…” Tooth shakes her head and North feels the no ripple through the room. “Flesh isn’t mere and you’re not mere flesh. I know the second now more than I ever did, and the first—if flesh was worthless, would I remember it in such detail?” “You were starting to forget, as you touched my arm.” “No,” Tooth says, no no North feels in his head. “Your tattoos…they’re part of what makes you more than physical. I wanted to touch. I can’t explain it like this, air and tongue. If you’d let me, I could—” “Please, Tooth. Not now,” North says, knowing he couldn’t do anything to stop her if she wanted to. “All right.” Tooth pulls his arm towards her and lightly kisses the tattoos instead. “But I need you to believe, North. That I still love you. We all do, in all our different ways. They’re sort of jealous of me, actually.” He feels her smile against his skin. “We want you to join us. We know you could. And…it’s wonderful, North. It really is. You won’t lose anything.” North thinks of his Russian accent that never goes away, no matter what language he speaks, the calluses on his hands, the care he must take in trimming his beard, the pain he felt millennia ago as he was tattooed with nothing more than a single needle and ink made from burnt bones. “Yes, I would. I am not nearly ready, Tooth. You saw me, just now—I was surely nothing more than physical, thinking you were too.” They are both silent for a long moment. “You think we can’t be together like this anymore,” Tooth says, finally. “I can’t offer you what you should have. You can only offer me what I won’t take.” She looks up at him once more. “I want to stay here tonight, though.” “It’s arctic winter. Long time to dawn.” “I know.” She licks her lips. “And when I do go, will you let me kiss you as I am now? No pretensions?” North hesitates, then nods. *** In the faint light of the sun’s return to the pole, her kiss is every kiss they’ve ever shared—as she remembers them, as he remembers them. He knows she’s trying to make him ask her to stay, but in the sweetness of the memories he feels also their irrecoverability. They can’t create any new memories like the ones she’s showing him. She overwhelms him all too easily now, and he’ll never overwhelm her again. When she leaves (looking back with her eyes once, and more with her mind), North goes to a small reading room in the workshop. In a drawer in the desk there is a small glass case holding one of Tooth’s shed feathers. He checks the preservation spell and holds the box for a while, sitting in an armchair and staring out at the snow. If he opens the case, the feather will begin to age, and eventually crumble into dust. If he never opens the case, he’ll never touch one of Tooth’s feathers again. The corners of the box leave thin red lines on his palm long after he places it back in the drawer.

Chapter 13: Avalanche, Part 2

He is about to die. After all this time, he is the last. Jack went long ago, of course. Bunny had followed, a few thousand years later. Tooth had gone slowly, fairy by fairy, but now she is gone too. Well, not gone. None of them are gone. They’ve just…changed. North misses them, though, perhaps now they are more themselves than ever. They’re going to make him the same way. He doesn’t think about that. He thinks instead about all the wonders he’s seen of Earth over his decades, and then his centuries, and then his millennia. He thinks that there might well be more wonders to come, but he will not see them. Not as he is. The last of the ships left today, leaving in due time to escape the expansion of the sun. There are many places where it might go, both known and unknown. But North is not in any of those places, and now the globe is dark and he is about to die. Darkness uncoils from the silent corners of the room and flows over to where North is sitting in an easy chair he knows he will not rise from. The others do not follow, and he is surprised, even now. longlong time for you since the avalanche it whispers. “Surely it is long time even for you,” North says, trying not to notice the effort it takes to draw breath. The shadow ripples but doesn’t answer in anything like words. been veryvery patient you’ve been readyready for at least thousand years “No, I haven’t,” North says. “I am not ready now. I am…afraid.” that’s why here why only one “I am afraid I will miss myself.” The shadow doesn’t answer, and North knows that it’s never really understood words like ‘myself’. He can’t expect it to be able to reply. “I am afraid it is not right for me to come with you.” but…of course is right needyouneedyou whitebeard wonder tallwalking in redblue jets new new humansnothumans needyouneedyou too…still want to touch your mind the shadow finishes, almost shyly. North sighs, and blinks slowly. He loves Earth so much, the thought of leaving it to be devoured by the sun cuts him more sharply than any sword of his youth. But then, a thought flickers to life like a candle flame. “I could make it again,” he says, his toymaker’s fingers stirring slightly on the armrests of the chair, and the shadow smiles like scales and a smell almost like apples. yesyes you could “It will be wonderful,” North says, and closes his eyes for the last time. When he sees again the shadow is lightly brushing against his edges, still surprisingly well-defined. And since it has been such a long time since the avalanche, wasNorth decides he and the shadow will not go join the others immediately. For now, they have even more time than before.

Chapter 14: Apotheosis

They are finally all together, all six together, if any of them was the counting type, if anyone was around to count them. But they none of them like numbers very much, they do not need to make things with numbers to go places and understand things. When they want to go, there they are, and when they want to understand–well, they never want understanding. In all, they know that some part of them or one of them, if the two are different at that moment, understands, and if they are not on the foldwave of energy to have that understanding to themselves–why, it cannot matter. It is a game to not understand, it is never a matter of life and death. And so in this moment within the orbit of a single moon reflecting a toolarge sun, only one of them maintains an awareness of number, only one who can think of himself as he and one still, the newest one. But the others are patient. They spread his thoughts like giant soap bubbles or miniature nebulae, showing him how to expand into the space not space he’d never understood before. They soothe him, telling him it is all right that he does not understand yet, that it is not a matter of life and death. They use his own understanding of death to explain this, as it is strongest and most present. It feels like hard earth under a dark sky, and makes him sad and afraid. He fears that some sort of light has gone, he feels that he has died and he feels this is important. It is hard for the others to understand. North they whisper. NorthNorthNorthNorth They curl into his thoughts, finally large enough for them all, they’ve missed him so, oh why did he have to stay as he was for so long, touch us North, learn how to touch us without hands oh yes see you do not need your body. The awe that bubbles up around him tastes like salt and these are still tears, he is starting to understand but oh how can he not ache for that world of hard earth, that world with the sun too large now and no more children? Where will there be trees and lights and snow now? Where will anyone feel the rushing warmth inside of bitter cold and waiting hoping happy safe clearstars whitemagic mint and pine and fire on the darkest night anymore? Who is he to give to? What is he to make? And the others stop, long enough for the moon to change its face, but none of them note this. They pass thoughts between them like keys and marbles and origami birds and butterscotch candies and dead leaves until they piece them together into an understanding, and understanding that must come in pieces from all of them because they have been so long away. This understanding is not easy, but it does not fail. And so they know. This is important. The making and the giving. This is not a matter of life and death because such things are not for them anymore, but if they had to use such simple words, it would be a matter equal to this. They condense. They condense and the newest one can feel the brush of feathers, feathers like the edges of a galaxy, feathers like the one he kept in a glass casket for thousands of years to prove that not all feathers were like the edges of a galaxy. He feels a curl of warm fur and his heart lightens, that is how it has always been, his heart leaps to feel this margin between them, that they might oppose each other as equals again, and hope laughs or he laughs with hope. He feels a cool breeze join in that laughter, smoothsharpness of timeless youth, trustme trustme, asks the joy and he does, he does. For the drowned boy loved the world, too, otherwise they could not have stayed a boy as long as they had. And then, ah, then. Bright one and dark one, shifting like sand, always and forever, lovehateoneness, kissing over the knife-edge between inspiration and insanity. The dark one takes his fear and perhaps eats it, perhaps twists it up and wears it as a wedding ring somehow, the dark one would do that, North knows, he’s been terrifyingly loved and favored for a long long time. The bright one nuzzles against him and greets him with a kiss of mulled wine, a kiss that goes straight to his head, a kiss that goes straight through his head and dizzies him with laughter as it fades, as he tries to address them as he always has, The Old Men. The bright one tugs on the long white beard he hasn’t given up yet in his thoughts and they all laugh like a calm and sunlit ocean. What now, he asks. Be ours, says the Lady of Memory. And after that? You always had to be busy, one says, or they all say. His blush tickles them and he does not deny. It is rightnotstrange, the bright one says. Not just us forever, that is sogoodsogoodtoogoodterrible. They fall into a fractal pattern with the dark one, who is forced to agree through a simple sunset wave of embarrassed love. What are we to do, then? North asks again. You know, mostly the bright one says. He blushes again. It is too much, this thought, there is too much pride in it, but he wants to give, and he wants to make, and he misses the world when the sun was smaller and he could, hecouldtheycouldwecould The Lady of Memory knows his thoughts as soon as they pass and places a familiar hand on the arm he thinks he has. I remember everything, every detail, they say. I have the plans. You can fashion. The Drowned Boy’s whoop sets off a supernova ten thousand years early and the bright one and dark one separate enough to smile, to say, this way, and then they are no longer within the orbit of that first moon. The planet below them is only formless rock, but the sun shines on it a proper size and heat. Hope stands at North’s side and you know how to start? North points to the sun and stars and says, we are one day ahead already, we have time to plan, it must be perfect, it must be good. Absolutely not, the dark one says, the objection smelling like rotting fruit. And the bright one holds them closer and whispers like an orchard full of blossoms you always say that.

Epilogue: His Time

My time again! A soundless shout echoed through the world in cold breezes and startled leaves into giving up all their green. The leaves fell and dried and curled and when the people stepped on them their crunching reminded them of laughter. My time, my time, my time! Delicate panes of crystal clear ice swept across puddles and rain barrels and animal troughs and ponds, and every day the sunlight let it glitter longer before melting it for the next night’s work. Filigrees of frost grew on glass and metal and stone and leaves, and shadows lovingly sheltered them all day. Year turn to me, year turn to me! And it was all just as it had been since the beginning, and the people all knew it deep in their bones and felt a comfort in the chill, bringing out their knitted clothes and quilts with smiles, touching the stitches and the patches and remembering the love of making and the happy use of such things. Join me, join me, joy and me, joy and me! And all the work that started in spring came to fruition, the harvest heavy and hearty, the love letters of buds and blossoms and sprouts now answered in swelling fruits of every shade. My time and your time, my time and your time! And before the ice or frost could last all day, before the heavy snows of midwinter, the storms came, the awesome, wondrous storms with thunder like friendly sparring between giants, with lightning zipping and arcing through it all as if it had been waiting for such a chance to play all year. Tell all, tell all, it’s my time, my time! “Yes, it’s his time now,” the people said. “Whose time?” asked the children. And the people did not know, not in the way they knew how to build a house or bake a loaf of bread, but they knew by stories, by all the old and growing stories, by all the shoots of stories nurtured everywhere, in all lands. And they said, in many ways, “Jack Frost.” * The Drowned Boy was the wind and then he was in the wind. With a great whoop he first used his newly-formed lungs, and laughed and laughed and laughed as he spun in the wind to see once again his simple clothes and simple skin, still the same after uncountable ages, after journeys across unfathomable gulfs, after an end and a beginning. He laughed with all the joy that he ever was and would be ever, and called out to the others to join him as the wind carried him swiftly to the Autumn House. The Autumn House stood alone in the woods, a tall and sturdy eye in a brilliant hurricane of fall colors. As the Drowned Boy approached, he saw smoke already rising from the chimney and drew a loop in the air in happiness. That sign could only mean the Craftsman was already there, the Craftsman who had held onto his body until the very end and slipped back into it so easily. He would no doubt be going through the house now, doing the dear, unnecessary work of preparing it for the Drowned Boy and the others, as if he couldn’t say that the linens would be fresh and the rooms warm and aired and they would be. Ah, but he would leave all that aside once the Drowned Boy arrived! And wasn’t he taking just as many unnecessary actions, flying through the air to the house even though he was impatient to see the others as they were at the Autumn House? The cold wind slipped by him and he grinned, thinking of the Craftsman’s tall, strong, broad frame. Oh, the Drowned Boy may have lost his body long, long ago, but it was so, so good to put it back on, to have the chance to embrace the others with a form fragile and limited and bounded, yes, but also warm and solid and so easily, so happily overwhelmed. The Drowned Boy landed lightly before the House, his house, its form a memory of another world, another time. He climbed the front steps and walked onto the broad, wraparound porch. He smiled and paused before the door with its oak-leaf patterned window, savoring the last few moments of anticipation before he took on his second-oldest name, before he called for the Craftsman with the first name he had known him by. He stood there just long enough for three more leaves to fall, then knocked on the door and opened it. “North! I’m here!” * They had hardly broken their first embrace when the Storyteller and the Protector knocked and entered, crossing the threshold as Katherine and Nightlight, hand-in-hand. The Memory Keeper and Hope-of-Spring arrived soon after, and everyone exclaimed in joy to have the chance to touch Tooth’s feathers and Bunny’s fur again. “The season looks beautiful this year,” Tooth said, before leaning forward and giving Jack a lingering kiss. “The harvest is good, too,” Bunny said, as he nuzzled Jack’s neck. “Almost seems like we’re getting along, doesn’t it?” Jack laughed breathlessly, and Tooth went to kiss Katherine. “It always seems that way until we meet on the Spring Fields,” Jack said. Nightlight stepped close, kissed Jack’s cheek, and winked at him and Bunny. “Somehow you always seem to work things out there, too.” “True enough,” Bunny said, slipping his hands under Jack’s shirt and making him squirm. “Ah, before we get carried away,” North said, breaking his kiss with Tooth but still holding her, and Katherine, close, “we know we are still waiting for Pitch and Sandy, and there is a feast for us—” * The Shining One and the Dark One knocked on the door just in time for apple pie and ice cream. arethearethe bodies rightgoodreadyuseful? they asked, and then, slowly, “Are the bodies right?” “They look like they are so far,” Jack said, and embraced Sandy’s short, round form and Pitch’s tall, skeletal one. They gave him sweet, sticky kisses and Jack laughed and held them closer. “Thank you for doing this,” he whispered to ears that still didn’t have ear holes. He knew they’d be able to hear him, anyway. “Love you,” said Pitch, signed Sandy. As if that was all there was to say, all that was needed to get beings that had long forgotten their original physical forms, if they had even had them, to take on familiar humanlike shapes just to indulge Jack. As if those words made it any less astonishing that the beings that had forced Jack to realize his body was gone, told him it was unnecessary, now understood how much corporeality meant to Jack and worked so hard and so long to make good, working bodies when Jack called. Jack felt his eyes well with happiness, not for the first time and not for the last. “We all do,” said Katharine, leaving her seat to join Jack, Sandy, and Pitch’s hug. “Happy Autumn, Jack.” “We’re always so glad to hear your call,” Tooth said. “To know that we’re going to feel time passing with you, to share a table with you, to be near and together with you and everyone, even if we’re in forms that could so easily feel lonely.” “Wouldn’t bear it without you,” Pitch said, and Sandy kissed him, then Jack again. Jack laughed softly, and looked around at everyone else. “Happy Autumn to all of you, too, then,” he said. He grinned wider and gave Pitch and Sandy an extra squeeze. “Now, let’s go upstairs and see what else makes physical bodies worth it.”

#apotheosis AU #rise of the guardians #rotg #ot+ shenanigans #ot+#sanderson mansnoozie #Pitch Black #Jack Frost #nicholas st. north #bunnymund #toothiana #if you like it consider reblogging #I live and breathe for comments #long post #very long post

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