Jan. 20th, 2008 01:54 pm
Impermanence 5/5
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lovely_ambitionTitle: Impermanence 5/5
Pairing: Glitch/Cain
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. They really don't.
Rating: PG-13.
Notes: Part One. Part Two. Part Three. Part Four. Huge thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
melloniel, without whom, this ending would have been incredibly different. There is a preview at the end for my next fic, going up next Sunday.
Summary: Seven annuals pass and Glitch discovered that he wasn’t the only one who fell in love five annuals ago.
Seven annuals ago, Glitch had become Ambrose and Cain had been there the whole time with a wary eye and a watchful demeanor, ready to be the one brave enough to call it all off or to hold a hand or two. He would have done anything that needed to be done. Seven annuals later and Ambrose had all-but-become Glitch again, except for a few moments of painful lucidity.
Cain hadn’t changed that much. He would still do anything in the Zone for that man.
There had been small changes along the way, in the manner that everything in the world shifted as annuals went by. Cain got older, the O.Z. continued to improve, and the smallest of things made the biggest of differences. It had been Cain’s most recent birthday when he’d really made the first big change in a very long time.
Everyone had been there to give him attention and gifts, despite Cain’s protests that he hadn’t wanted a thing. Still, he wouldn’t have traded that day for the world, from Raw’s happy smiles to DG’s precious gift to Glitch draping himself all over Cain the whole time and laughing joyously. Hell, he’d even had the Queen in his presence that whole day. He’d accepted it all with a happy smile, keeping a steady hand on Glitch’s upper arm as he leaned down over Cain. The former Tin Man had been sitting and opening the present from Jeb and the family with Glitch’s arms casually hanging down over Cain’s shoulders and helping to unwrap the gift, nattering away about how the Ozian periodic table dictated the sheen of the wrapping paper and how he had invented the gloss.
If people might have hinted that it looked vaguely like they were a couple, Cain would do what he always did; stare ‘em down and ask whether that was so bad.
The thing about that was…
Well, no, Cain had DG’s gift to explain first. It summed up just why change mattered so very much. DG’s gift had been more important than everyone else’s and it wasn’t that she knew him better or that he thought the rest were so bad; it was just that it was time. It had been a perfectly carved, very small, heart-shaped box.
It was exactly big enough for a wedding ring.
Fifteen annuals ago, he’d been shoved inside an iron suit. Eight annuals later he’d been freed. He supposed that seven annuals more meant that he ought to finally take off his wedding ring, seeing as his heart had already decided to move on a long time back. Five annuals, to mark the date exactly. Cain had lost control of his emotions sometime around the age when the Queen started trying to hitch Ambrose off to the nearest willing woman. Cain had decided fairly quickly that he didn’t like neither the sight nor sound of that and though he couldn’t do anything to actively stop it, he could wait just outside the ballroom after every dance. He could tip his hat to the departing women and murmur a quiet hello before asking if they’d seen his Ambrose.
It usually seemed to get the point across.
He thought his heart would have died with Adora. He genuinely thought that his wife would have taken him all up, but change happened, whether you wanted it to or not. And in Cain’s case, he’d met a headcase named Glitch who turned out to be one of the most self-sacrificing, brave men that Cain had ever known. Enough time passed and he was hard-pressed to think of reasons not to fall in love with the man. After Cain’s birthday that year, he’d tucked away the ring in that heart-shaped box and kept it on his mantle carefully, not wanting to shift it or let it out of his sight.
His room had all the signs of a storm having hit. Papers everywhere and furniture missing and other signs of distress marked every corner of Cain’s bedroom. Jeb had picked up on it fairly quick.
“Is Wyatt getting in here, Father?” Jeb had asked with worry written across his face when he saw the mess one day. “I thought I closed the door in the mornings…”
“No, it’s not him, son,” Cain promised, clasping his shoulder tightly. Just behind him were crates, large enough for all the possessions in his life. “I’ve just been going through my things and seeing what needs to go and what ought to stay.”
Jeb hadn’t exactly understood what he meant that day, but in a week’s time, everyone would know.
It still took him a week.
The first day, he’d gone to the palace to have lunch with Glitch (because now that things were reverting to form, he couldn’t refer to him as anything but), DG, and Ahamo. DG and her father had been all too happy to toy with the kite that Glitch had brought to the breakfast and spent an hour tinkering with the tail.
Glitch was more focused on drawing Cain’s attention to the specific measures of it and saying with careful attention: “Look at that. It just needed a little something else to work. It was perfect, it just needed a companion!” He’d flipped the tail of the kite in Cain’s nose until he couldn’t take it any longer and started laughing uproariously, yanking Glitch’s hands in his own and just staring him down for a long moment.
DG and Ahamo could have been the wallpaper for all he cared. But he froze, confusion and worry flickering through his eyes as he stared at Glitch, who wasn’t going anywhere. “Cain,” Glitch murmured softly and Cain had been able to feel Glitch’s heart beating away so easily, his thumbs brushing over soft, pale skin. He could have leaned in and took a kiss at how close they were, but Cain swallowed, not ready to do something like that.
Cain released him.
He wasn’t ready yet.
The second day, they’d been out in the apple orchard to pick a few choice fruits for the Princesses, who wanted to attempt apple pie, which was (according to DG) ‘as American as you can be!’ No one had really understood what she meant, but she was still the Princess and they’d do anything to make her happy. Glitch had wanted to go out there on his own, but Cain had followed along without anyone knowing.
At least, he hadn’t counted on anyone knowing. About half an hour after they both entered the orchard and the boughs swung back and forth with the gentle breeze, Glitch began spinning around in endless circles. “I know you’re there, whoever you are, stranger,” he called out. “Come on out and fight me yourself!” Glitch was full of vigour and energy and when Cain slid out from a tree, cocking a brow upwards, he half-expected Glitch to do just that and attack.
He hadn’t though.
“Cain,” he exhaled instead. “You’re looking pretty old there, doll.”
“It’s been a lot of annuals, Glitch,” Cain replied, very patiently.
He had occasions now where he thought that no time had passed at all and he’d woken up during all their dark adventures. Though seven annuals had gone by, some days Glitch didn’t know that seven minutes had passed.
“Doll?” Cain echoed with practiced and patient bemusement.
Glitch had taken to scratching his head. “I think I used to call people that. Or was it sweetheart? I remember calling people something.”
The third day had been better, but in a way Cain didn’t know how to quantify. There’d been a large lightning storm in the O.Z. that prevented Cain from leaving the castle to go home to his family. He’d found himself a stray room and a spare chair with a table nearby so he could kick up his feet and lay his hat on the nearest bedpost to take a load off. He tended to rouse at the slightest complication, so when he heard quiet shuffling in the room he pried his eyes open and found Glitch standing above him, staring down curiously.
“Glitch,” he mumbled tiredly. “I was sleeping.”
“Dreaming?” His voice had been impossibly soft and quiet and it almost, almost sounded like Ambrose for a moment. “You should come to bed, Cain. The bed is much more comfortable than the chair.”
For some reason, he’d never asked to clarify just whose bed he was supposed to go to. Not that it mattered. When he’d woken, no one had been there with him to share the sheets.
The fourth day had involved Glitch’s… ‘wandering finger syndrome’ as Cain had taken to calling it. Funny that it only really applied to him. It usually involved Cain sitting somewhere important like a chair in the Queen’s presence or maybe with Azkadellia and her husband and it usually involved Glitch standing right behind him and toying with the cloth at his shoulders or his hat or his hair or (and this was the worst) the small curls at the nape of his neck. Cain just about lost the power to speak in those situations and he noticed that no one ever really said anything so much as just smiled at the both of them.
The fifth day, Cain had dropped by a professional psychiatrist, as he tended to do on a monthly basis. He had taken off his hat, sat down in the chair, and had looked up at the Doc, who only had one thing to ask: “Have you done it yet?”
“Can’t seem to make the leap,” Cain admitted, clearing his throat.
“It’s ironic, really. Given that I’ve heard rumours that a man named Wyatt Cain has been involved with the Queen’s Advisor for some time now. Years. They say that the two have only recently begun to show the affair in public.”
Cain just levelled the psych with a dubious look. “Remind me why I pay you for this?”
The sixth day had been the worst day of all. DG had been to Milltown recently to talk with her former parents and some of the others who had been involved in the rebuilding. When she arrived back at the palace, she had some new tech with her, in the form of panels that formed a screen. She also had, in her hands, something she called a ‘film’ that was apparently a ‘classic’. “You, Cain, you have to stay,” DG announced simply.
It was something called ‘Indiana Jones’, which she’d smuggled in from the Other Side. It didn’t take more than ten minutes for the film to completely leave Cain in an unimpressed state. Before he could sit up and leave though, four pairs of hands pushed him back into the sofa. Four. And only one pair was wanted at all. Glitch had started the film halfway across the sofa, but had slowly, slowly inched closer and closer in the duration and kept whispering things to Cain like, ‘I like your tight pants better’ and ‘see, he has an unnatural obsession with his hat too, not that it condones anything’ and by the end, Cain had ended up with his arms around Glitch’s waist, just keeping him in close so that Glitch’s whispers didn’t disturb anyone else.
The seventh day had been the day, when Jeb understood what all the crates meant and when Cain made one last visit to the palace in search of Glitch. He’d found him in the lab, staring at his brain; which was still contained in preserving liquid.
As soon as Cain found him, his gaze was rife with knowing and fear at being there and it being time.
Cain knew as well as anyone that Ambrose was peeking through. It happened less and less lately, but Cain knew it when he saw it.
“They say it’s lost all viability,” he murmured quietly. “That there’s no hope and I’ll be Glitch forever-more.”
Cain stood beside him, looking down at Glitch and not at the brain within the machine. He didn’t want to see anything but Glitch and he didn’t care whether that came with half a brain or none of one (even if that could pose a few issues). Sometimes, you just wanted to be with someone who was willing to make a sacrifice to do the right thing, like giving up your brain for the good of the O.Z. Sometimes, home was where the heart was and if it weren’t for Glitch, Cain just wouldn’t have been alive to know that.
In the end, Cain thanked all the suns above for that day of lucidity, so he could take Glitch’s hand into his own and tug him closer. “Glitch,” he began, good and slow and patient. “I’m moving in with you at the palace, I love you, and you need to stop groping me in public. People are starting to talk.”
Shockingly enough, instead of a wise remark about the last part, Glitch just stared back at him with that innocent and purely joyful look he got when something was going right in the world.
“You love me,” he echoed, still in full control of his faculties. “How long?”
“Five annuals, give or take.”
He received what was a death-glare at this announcement. “Five annuals you let me sit here and think you had nothing in the way of feelings towards me? Five annuals! Five! Whole! Annuals! Wyatt Cain, you’re an insufferable stoic man who really needs more than a good smack in the head and...why are you looking at me like that?” Glitch seemed to twitch and it looked as if a synapse was about to misfire, but he just backed up until his back hit the door and Cain was able to push his way in and kiss him firmly to seal all the words he’d given to Ambrose before that little fit.
Cain eased away for a quick breather before diving back in, shoving his palms down the back-pockets of Glitch’s pants and pinning him harder to the wall while Cain used his body to seal off what little space was left between their bodies.
By the time he’d had enough, Glitch was slipping halfway down the wall, his knees giving out. “Need some help there, sweetheart?” Cain asked, in a perfectly composed tone.
“You said something about moving in?” Glitch got out breathlessly.
“Seven annuals? It’s long past time,” Cain assured.
*
They didn’t fight much, the bed was never too cold, and every now and again, Jeb would come visiting with the ever-growing Wyatt Junior. Annuals passed faster than either of them wanted and Glitch never went fully grey like Cain did, but that didn’t mean he got away without a myriad of comments about his age.
As far as happily ever afters went, Glitch thought he’d managed to get the best one ever, even if it came with a greatly reduced mark of intelligence.
Sometimes, a person just needed to know how their heart felt to be truly happy and the brain had nothing to do with that.
end
***
AND! As promised, a preview of things to come starting next Sunday!:
Pairing: Glitch/Cain
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. They really don't.
Rating: PG-13.
Notes: Part One. Part Two. Part Three. Part Four. Huge thanks to
melloniel, without whom, this ending would have been incredibly different. There is a preview at the end for my next fic, going up next Sunday. Summary: Seven annuals pass and Glitch discovered that he wasn’t the only one who fell in love five annuals ago.
Seven annuals ago, Glitch had become Ambrose and Cain had been there the whole time with a wary eye and a watchful demeanor, ready to be the one brave enough to call it all off or to hold a hand or two. He would have done anything that needed to be done. Seven annuals later and Ambrose had all-but-become Glitch again, except for a few moments of painful lucidity.
Cain hadn’t changed that much. He would still do anything in the Zone for that man.
There had been small changes along the way, in the manner that everything in the world shifted as annuals went by. Cain got older, the O.Z. continued to improve, and the smallest of things made the biggest of differences. It had been Cain’s most recent birthday when he’d really made the first big change in a very long time.
Everyone had been there to give him attention and gifts, despite Cain’s protests that he hadn’t wanted a thing. Still, he wouldn’t have traded that day for the world, from Raw’s happy smiles to DG’s precious gift to Glitch draping himself all over Cain the whole time and laughing joyously. Hell, he’d even had the Queen in his presence that whole day. He’d accepted it all with a happy smile, keeping a steady hand on Glitch’s upper arm as he leaned down over Cain. The former Tin Man had been sitting and opening the present from Jeb and the family with Glitch’s arms casually hanging down over Cain’s shoulders and helping to unwrap the gift, nattering away about how the Ozian periodic table dictated the sheen of the wrapping paper and how he had invented the gloss.
If people might have hinted that it looked vaguely like they were a couple, Cain would do what he always did; stare ‘em down and ask whether that was so bad.
The thing about that was…
Well, no, Cain had DG’s gift to explain first. It summed up just why change mattered so very much. DG’s gift had been more important than everyone else’s and it wasn’t that she knew him better or that he thought the rest were so bad; it was just that it was time. It had been a perfectly carved, very small, heart-shaped box.
It was exactly big enough for a wedding ring.
Fifteen annuals ago, he’d been shoved inside an iron suit. Eight annuals later he’d been freed. He supposed that seven annuals more meant that he ought to finally take off his wedding ring, seeing as his heart had already decided to move on a long time back. Five annuals, to mark the date exactly. Cain had lost control of his emotions sometime around the age when the Queen started trying to hitch Ambrose off to the nearest willing woman. Cain had decided fairly quickly that he didn’t like neither the sight nor sound of that and though he couldn’t do anything to actively stop it, he could wait just outside the ballroom after every dance. He could tip his hat to the departing women and murmur a quiet hello before asking if they’d seen his Ambrose.
It usually seemed to get the point across.
He thought his heart would have died with Adora. He genuinely thought that his wife would have taken him all up, but change happened, whether you wanted it to or not. And in Cain’s case, he’d met a headcase named Glitch who turned out to be one of the most self-sacrificing, brave men that Cain had ever known. Enough time passed and he was hard-pressed to think of reasons not to fall in love with the man. After Cain’s birthday that year, he’d tucked away the ring in that heart-shaped box and kept it on his mantle carefully, not wanting to shift it or let it out of his sight.
His room had all the signs of a storm having hit. Papers everywhere and furniture missing and other signs of distress marked every corner of Cain’s bedroom. Jeb had picked up on it fairly quick.
“Is Wyatt getting in here, Father?” Jeb had asked with worry written across his face when he saw the mess one day. “I thought I closed the door in the mornings…”
“No, it’s not him, son,” Cain promised, clasping his shoulder tightly. Just behind him were crates, large enough for all the possessions in his life. “I’ve just been going through my things and seeing what needs to go and what ought to stay.”
Jeb hadn’t exactly understood what he meant that day, but in a week’s time, everyone would know.
It still took him a week.
The first day, he’d gone to the palace to have lunch with Glitch (because now that things were reverting to form, he couldn’t refer to him as anything but), DG, and Ahamo. DG and her father had been all too happy to toy with the kite that Glitch had brought to the breakfast and spent an hour tinkering with the tail.
Glitch was more focused on drawing Cain’s attention to the specific measures of it and saying with careful attention: “Look at that. It just needed a little something else to work. It was perfect, it just needed a companion!” He’d flipped the tail of the kite in Cain’s nose until he couldn’t take it any longer and started laughing uproariously, yanking Glitch’s hands in his own and just staring him down for a long moment.
DG and Ahamo could have been the wallpaper for all he cared. But he froze, confusion and worry flickering through his eyes as he stared at Glitch, who wasn’t going anywhere. “Cain,” Glitch murmured softly and Cain had been able to feel Glitch’s heart beating away so easily, his thumbs brushing over soft, pale skin. He could have leaned in and took a kiss at how close they were, but Cain swallowed, not ready to do something like that.
Cain released him.
He wasn’t ready yet.
The second day, they’d been out in the apple orchard to pick a few choice fruits for the Princesses, who wanted to attempt apple pie, which was (according to DG) ‘as American as you can be!’ No one had really understood what she meant, but she was still the Princess and they’d do anything to make her happy. Glitch had wanted to go out there on his own, but Cain had followed along without anyone knowing.
At least, he hadn’t counted on anyone knowing. About half an hour after they both entered the orchard and the boughs swung back and forth with the gentle breeze, Glitch began spinning around in endless circles. “I know you’re there, whoever you are, stranger,” he called out. “Come on out and fight me yourself!” Glitch was full of vigour and energy and when Cain slid out from a tree, cocking a brow upwards, he half-expected Glitch to do just that and attack.
He hadn’t though.
“Cain,” he exhaled instead. “You’re looking pretty old there, doll.”
“It’s been a lot of annuals, Glitch,” Cain replied, very patiently.
He had occasions now where he thought that no time had passed at all and he’d woken up during all their dark adventures. Though seven annuals had gone by, some days Glitch didn’t know that seven minutes had passed.
“Doll?” Cain echoed with practiced and patient bemusement.
Glitch had taken to scratching his head. “I think I used to call people that. Or was it sweetheart? I remember calling people something.”
The third day had been better, but in a way Cain didn’t know how to quantify. There’d been a large lightning storm in the O.Z. that prevented Cain from leaving the castle to go home to his family. He’d found himself a stray room and a spare chair with a table nearby so he could kick up his feet and lay his hat on the nearest bedpost to take a load off. He tended to rouse at the slightest complication, so when he heard quiet shuffling in the room he pried his eyes open and found Glitch standing above him, staring down curiously.
“Glitch,” he mumbled tiredly. “I was sleeping.”
“Dreaming?” His voice had been impossibly soft and quiet and it almost, almost sounded like Ambrose for a moment. “You should come to bed, Cain. The bed is much more comfortable than the chair.”
For some reason, he’d never asked to clarify just whose bed he was supposed to go to. Not that it mattered. When he’d woken, no one had been there with him to share the sheets.
The fourth day had involved Glitch’s… ‘wandering finger syndrome’ as Cain had taken to calling it. Funny that it only really applied to him. It usually involved Cain sitting somewhere important like a chair in the Queen’s presence or maybe with Azkadellia and her husband and it usually involved Glitch standing right behind him and toying with the cloth at his shoulders or his hat or his hair or (and this was the worst) the small curls at the nape of his neck. Cain just about lost the power to speak in those situations and he noticed that no one ever really said anything so much as just smiled at the both of them.
The fifth day, Cain had dropped by a professional psychiatrist, as he tended to do on a monthly basis. He had taken off his hat, sat down in the chair, and had looked up at the Doc, who only had one thing to ask: “Have you done it yet?”
“Can’t seem to make the leap,” Cain admitted, clearing his throat.
“It’s ironic, really. Given that I’ve heard rumours that a man named Wyatt Cain has been involved with the Queen’s Advisor for some time now. Years. They say that the two have only recently begun to show the affair in public.”
Cain just levelled the psych with a dubious look. “Remind me why I pay you for this?”
The sixth day had been the worst day of all. DG had been to Milltown recently to talk with her former parents and some of the others who had been involved in the rebuilding. When she arrived back at the palace, she had some new tech with her, in the form of panels that formed a screen. She also had, in her hands, something she called a ‘film’ that was apparently a ‘classic’. “You, Cain, you have to stay,” DG announced simply.
It was something called ‘Indiana Jones’, which she’d smuggled in from the Other Side. It didn’t take more than ten minutes for the film to completely leave Cain in an unimpressed state. Before he could sit up and leave though, four pairs of hands pushed him back into the sofa. Four. And only one pair was wanted at all. Glitch had started the film halfway across the sofa, but had slowly, slowly inched closer and closer in the duration and kept whispering things to Cain like, ‘I like your tight pants better’ and ‘see, he has an unnatural obsession with his hat too, not that it condones anything’ and by the end, Cain had ended up with his arms around Glitch’s waist, just keeping him in close so that Glitch’s whispers didn’t disturb anyone else.
The seventh day had been the day, when Jeb understood what all the crates meant and when Cain made one last visit to the palace in search of Glitch. He’d found him in the lab, staring at his brain; which was still contained in preserving liquid.
As soon as Cain found him, his gaze was rife with knowing and fear at being there and it being time.
Cain knew as well as anyone that Ambrose was peeking through. It happened less and less lately, but Cain knew it when he saw it.
“They say it’s lost all viability,” he murmured quietly. “That there’s no hope and I’ll be Glitch forever-more.”
Cain stood beside him, looking down at Glitch and not at the brain within the machine. He didn’t want to see anything but Glitch and he didn’t care whether that came with half a brain or none of one (even if that could pose a few issues). Sometimes, you just wanted to be with someone who was willing to make a sacrifice to do the right thing, like giving up your brain for the good of the O.Z. Sometimes, home was where the heart was and if it weren’t for Glitch, Cain just wouldn’t have been alive to know that.
In the end, Cain thanked all the suns above for that day of lucidity, so he could take Glitch’s hand into his own and tug him closer. “Glitch,” he began, good and slow and patient. “I’m moving in with you at the palace, I love you, and you need to stop groping me in public. People are starting to talk.”
Shockingly enough, instead of a wise remark about the last part, Glitch just stared back at him with that innocent and purely joyful look he got when something was going right in the world.
“You love me,” he echoed, still in full control of his faculties. “How long?”
“Five annuals, give or take.”
He received what was a death-glare at this announcement. “Five annuals you let me sit here and think you had nothing in the way of feelings towards me? Five annuals! Five! Whole! Annuals! Wyatt Cain, you’re an insufferable stoic man who really needs more than a good smack in the head and...why are you looking at me like that?” Glitch seemed to twitch and it looked as if a synapse was about to misfire, but he just backed up until his back hit the door and Cain was able to push his way in and kiss him firmly to seal all the words he’d given to Ambrose before that little fit.
Cain eased away for a quick breather before diving back in, shoving his palms down the back-pockets of Glitch’s pants and pinning him harder to the wall while Cain used his body to seal off what little space was left between their bodies.
By the time he’d had enough, Glitch was slipping halfway down the wall, his knees giving out. “Need some help there, sweetheart?” Cain asked, in a perfectly composed tone.
“You said something about moving in?” Glitch got out breathlessly.
“Seven annuals? It’s long past time,” Cain assured.
*
They didn’t fight much, the bed was never too cold, and every now and again, Jeb would come visiting with the ever-growing Wyatt Junior. Annuals passed faster than either of them wanted and Glitch never went fully grey like Cain did, but that didn’t mean he got away without a myriad of comments about his age.
As far as happily ever afters went, Glitch thought he’d managed to get the best one ever, even if it came with a greatly reduced mark of intelligence.
Sometimes, a person just needed to know how their heart felt to be truly happy and the brain had nothing to do with that.
end
***
AND! As promised, a preview of things to come starting next Sunday!:
“Do I know you?” she asked hesitantly. Maybe she really did have to talk to someone about the whole ‘locks-on-doors’ concept, so the crazies wouldn’t just come bursting into her room. She kept spinning the doll, knowing that she needed to practice on focusing in the face of distraction.
“You really have to help me,” the woman pleaded, stumbling closer to grasp onto DG’s hand and holding on tight. “It’s me. Glitch! Ambrose! Whichever you want to call me, it’s me!” DG stared up in shock, her mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ about the same time as her eyes went to incredibly wide proportions.
“Y-you’re…Ambrose…” DG stuttered to get out. “But Ambrose is a man,” she very, very slowly sad, as if she had to say it, as if common sense was pounding to be let out.
“Thank you, DG, for the newsflash,” Ambrosina – no, that was just weird -- Ambrose snapped at her sarcastically. Maybe Glitch worked better, if DG just looked at this like one big glitch.
Tags:
no subject
Some fave lines:
Though seven annuals had gone by, some days Glitch didn’t know that seven minutes had passed.
“I think I used to call people that. Or was it sweetheart? I remember calling people something.”
Five annuals! Five! Whole! Annuals!
no subject
as my dismal dark AU is proving</>.no subject
Chah, Cain is such a hottie, if I could I would never stop groping him.
ANYWAY - This was GREAT. I am desprately in love with it. Thank you so much! Guuh! Happy ending! Happy ending! -dance-
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
>.> I would've gotten the point too. Cain can be scary.
Preview
Oh my... I was wondering who would be the first to do it. Seems like you've claimed that spot.
no subject
>.> I have a sort of weakness for genderswitch, as in, I tend to write it once in every fandom I'm in. Tin Man is one of the first where it's almost easily plausible compared to the others (like House). And it'll be a good lead-in to the next plot-plot driven Glitch/Cain I'm writing.
no subject
no subject
no subject
And thank you for reading!
no subject
no subject
no subject
I love these parts:
He genuinely thought that his wife would have taken him all up, but change happened, whether you wanted it to or not.
The fourth day had involved Glitch’s… ‘wandering finger syndrome’ as Cain had taken to calling it.
“It’s ironic, really. Given that I’ve heard rumours that a man named Wyatt Cain has been involved with the Queen’s Advisor for some time now. Years. They say that the two have only recently begun to show the affair in public.”
no subject
no subject
I loved this story.
This ending was perfect. I couldn't have asked for anything more!
no subject
no subject
The new story sounds crazy, and I'm looking forward to it.
no subject
no subject
Ha! Perfect! Absolutely perfect!
This whole story was fantastic! Amazing job!
no subject
no subject
But I wanted to say that even through the exhaustion of 2000 miles of interstate travel, internet difficulties, and new semesters starting, I was so hooked on this fic that I *had* to read the ending as soon as it was posted...obstacles or no. (It's just only now that I'm getting around to coming back and commenting...)
The ending is absolutely beautiful. Each chapter left me with my heart in my throat, wondering how it could all be resolved, wanting things to be better for the poor characters...and then at the end, it was. It was a very satisfying resolution. A little sad (since Ambrose is unable to wholly keep himself) but despite troubles the characters find happiness. And I love the balance between melancholy and sweet.
And I'm *very* intriged by the preview for the next fic. (I'm sometimes a touch leery of genderswap fics because...well...I have gender identity issues, and though I love the concept of genderswap fics, in unsubtle hands they can sometimes be (I'm sure unintentionally) offensive and uncomfortable. But your preview is marvelous, and the way you handled this fic makes me trust you completely. I would unhesitatingly follow you into genderswap, kink, or even MPREG.)
no subject
And as for the next, I think I'm posting part one today and I can promise it's VERY light-crack/tongue-in-cheek. And you have to love a fandom where 'DG's Magic Did It' can be an excuse.
The AU that comes after is currently 67 pages and will hopefully not get me kicked considering the angst that's poured into it.SO ONCE MORE, THANK YOU!
no subject
no subject
no subject
I'm grinning like a mad thing at the thought of a nice, long fic, and trying to keep down my impatience.
Any chance you need a beta...or a pre-reader?
Yes, I'm shameless in my need for instant gratification.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
& this part, more than any other, made me clutch at my chest with sadness and squee all at the same time. Funny how that happens.
“They say it’s lost all viability,” he murmured quietly. “That there’s no hope and I’ll be Glitch forever-more.”
Cain stood beside him, looking down at Glitch and not at the brain within the machine. He didn’t want to see anything but Glitch and he didn’t care whether that came with half a brain or none of one (even if that could pose a few issues).
no subject
no subject
no subject