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starryevermore · 1 month

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the house of snow (12) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: you can’t believe that this is truly a good thing.

word count: 2,822

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, a hint of fluff, a hint of angst, pet name (petal), not proofread

note: ok the smut isn��t the greatest bc i’ve been out of commission for a while but hopefully it gets better as the series progresses

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

You tried to time your breathing with each tick of the grandfather clock in a desperate plea to not have a meltdown on your wedding night. Your new lady’s maid had just left you after helping you remove your gown. Now, you were left waiting, wearing only a silky red robe, for Coryo to arrive. You fought the urge to bite down on your fingernails. Why had your mother said anything about what your wedding night would be like? With the way your nerves were grating on you, you almost wished you were going into this with blissful ignorance.

You crossed the room and stood in front of the large window that overlooked the grounds. Breathing in time to the ticks wasn’t doing you any good, so perhaps occupying your mind with the outside world would help. But as you looked over the rose gardens and the stables and the distant pond, your mind kept trailing back to where you were, what you were wearing, and what was going to happen.

A pair of cold hands settled on your waist. You yelped, jerking away. When you turned, ready to strike, your husband stood before you. Husband. What a strange thing to call Coryo now. You had known this day was coming, but now that it was here…It felt different. Not like you would have expected.

Coryo raised his hands and took a step back. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, petal,” he said.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” you said, adjusting your robe to cover you more. It mattered little, of course, but it brought you some comfort.

“My apologies,” he said. He sounded sincere enough. Could he be sincere? If you could believe your father, that Coriolanus had asked for your hand three times before he was told yes on the fourth, maybe he could. Unless it was all an elaborate ruse, some way for him to lord this final victory over your head. The one time he could truly win.

“It’s alright.” It wasn’t. It was. How could one man—how could Coryo—scramble your thoughts like this?

Satisfied that you weren’t upset with him, he took a step toward you again. You fought the urge to back yourself against the window, pray that it might fall out and take you with it. He raised his hand, caressing your face. You allowed yourself to lean into it. Your eyes fluttered shut as he stroked his thumb over the swell of your cheek.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You fought to keep your mouth from falling open. Love? Did he truly? You weren’t sure how much you believed it. When you were still in school, you once told Sejanus you were sure Snow had a heart of ice. The idea that he could love anyone…It felt laughable.

“I love you, my beautiful wife,” he repeated.

Were you supposed to say it back? It would have aided your act, to be sure. But you were half-certain that if you said those three words with even an ounce of insincerity, he would know. He would know, and you would be left dealing with whatever horrible aftermath he would deal you.

His lips pressed against your forehead. “I just wanted you to know.”

Maybe you should’ve said it back, if only to lessen the blow. Because Coryo looked stricken as you said, “Please…don’t hurt me.”

He pulled away, his hands falling your shoulders. If it was to brace himself, or to keep you from crumbling, you weren’t sure. “What? Why would you think I—?”

“My mama said that this…hurts. That it can hurt. That women seldom feel pleasure from it.”

Rage flickered in his pale blue eyes. “And she thought I would hurt you?”

“I…She just wanted me to be prepared for what might happen.”

“Petal, for as long as I’m alive, I would never let you be hurt, not by my hand or anyone else’s. I don’t ever want you to think otherwise. Am I understood?”

Words failed you, so you offered him a nod.

“If you are ever uncomfortable, if I ever cause you even the slightest bit of pain, you tell me. And if you even want to wait until you are ready, that is fine with me. Okay?”

Again, you nodded. This time, though, it wasn’t enough.

“I want your words, petal.”

“I understand.”

You lifted your hands, letting them settle on Coryo’s broad chest. For the first time, you realized that he was dressed down, too. Instead of his usual red attire, he was wearing a loose, white linen shirt and trousers. The shirt was thin, so you could feel the muscles of his chest. It was hard to believe the scrawny boy you once knew at the Academy had become…this.

“…And I would like to…do this.”

The corners of Coryo’s mouth tugged into a smile. If he minded your awkwardness, he gave no indication. His hands fell back to your waist and he tugged you against him. His trousers were as thin as his shirt. You squeaked as you felt him against your thigh. “Oh, petal,” he sighed, “I am going to make sure you enjoy this.”

He pulled on the tie holding your robe together, letting it fall open. Coryo glanced up at you, watching for your reaction, as he pushed the silky material off of your shoulders. You found yourself reaching for hand, guiding him to caress your soft curves. His lips captured yours. Coryo kissed you like you were giving him air. Though you were already pressed against him, his arms wrapped around you, as though if he pulled you against him more, you might meld yourself into him, become a part of him like a lung or an arm.

Your hand found itself entangled in his white blond hair. A low growl rumbled in Coryo’s chest. “Don't tease me, petal. Not tonight,” he said against your lips.

That felt more like a challenge than anything. You weren’t sure if this experience would be enjoyable for you, even with Coryo’s promises, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t find your pleasure elsewhere. “Where’s the fun in that?”

When Coryo pulled away, his eyes were noticeably darker. “Oh, you’ll have your fun.”

He led you over to the bed, urging you to lie back. You expected him to climb over you, to lay with you, but instead, he settled between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. What was he doing? Your mother never told you about this. Why was he spreading you apart with his fingers and—

“Oh god,” you cried out as he licked a long stripe along your intimacy.

“Not god. Your Coryo,” he mumbled before pushing his tongue back inside you again.

Your brain turned to mush as he found his rhythm, found out what made you cry his name over and over again. Your hand fell back to his hair, gripping it at the roots, pushing him impossibly closer to you. Fuck. Coryo wasn’t lying when he said you would enjoy this. Could you keep him here like this all night? Forget the rest of the act, the part that necessitated making an heir. With Coryo between your thighs, you could live the rest of your life a happy woman. A pleased woman.

Something deep in your stomach began to tighten as Coryo pushed his fingers inside of you, too, stroking your walls. Your toes curled at the sensation. “Coryo, I feel—”

“Shh. Let go, petal,” he cooed.

It felt like something erupted inside of you. As you let out a guttural scream, your legs shutting around Coryo’s head. What was that? Was this the pleasure that women so seldom get to experience? How could other men rob women of this? You had half a mind to stay in bed for the rest of your life with Coryo if it meant you got to feel like this again and again and again.

Your thighs trembled as you released your hold on your husband. He lifted himself, pressing wet kisses up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, until he settled on your lips. Your arms wrapped around him, keeping him close to you. It was strange, wanting to be near him. Wasn’t it just a few months ago, a few weeks ago, that you wanted nothing more than to run away from this sort of life? To be anything other than the wife to a King? Oh, what you wish you could tell your (only slightly) younger self. Would she even believe you? Could you even believe it now?

How could so much change?

“You’re perfect,” Coryo whispered against your lips. “So perfect for me.”

He began to sit up, eliciting a whine from you. He gently pushed your hands away before reaching for his pants and undoing the ties. You were captivated as Coryo pushed the thin fabric down his thighs. And what lay between them…Oh, was this why it would be painful? Curious, you reached for it. Coryo guided your hand around him, encouraging you to give a few gentle pumps along his length.

“Be gentle?” you asked as you dropped your hand, letting Coryo drape himself over you again.

“For you, I’ll be anything you want.”

You let out a hiss as he guided himself inside you. God, the stretch. Your brows pinched together, your eyes screwing shut. It was too much. Yet, Coryo was slow, taking his time. It made you keenly aware of the feeling, but you supposed it was better than rushing into it. You shuddered at the thought of how painful that could be.

Coryo pressed a kiss to your lips. “You alright, petal?”

All you could manage was a strangled whine.

He grabbed your face, but didn’t say anything until you opened your eyes. He made sure you kept eye contact with him as he said, “If it’s too much, we can stop. Don’t think you have to do this just because it’s our wedding night. I would rather you want this than feel like you’re being forced.”

A part of you wanted to tell him to stop. But a greater part of you, the part of you that remembered the pure ecstasy you felt just moments before when his head was between your legs, wanted to experience that all over again. (Was that selfish? Maybe. But after this mess of an engagement, maybe you deserved to be selfish.) So you found yourself pulling Coryo down for another kiss, whispering against his lips, “I want you.”

Coryo kissed you as he rocked his hips into you. And, oh, if you thought the stretch was too much, you had no idea what was coming for you. You could feel him—every part of him. The entire world faded away until all that was left was your Coryo. Another whimper escaped your lips. You felt a question on the tip of his tongue. You kissed him harder, hoping that if you distracted him enough, he wouldn’t stop. Because, for as intense as this was, you were chasing that high and you would be damned before you let anyone get in the way of it.

Slowly, though, the pain melted into pleasure. Your moans echoed off the walls, Coryo taking it as a sign to pick up the pace. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your fingernails digging into his back. You were sure you would be frightened by the sight of the marks, but that didn’t matter now. Nothing else mattered right now.

You let out a strangled cry when Coryo hit a particularly sensitive spot deep inside you. Stars dotted the corners of your vision. You almost convinced yourself it was a lie that women couldn’t feel pleasure from this. Or was this just because it was with Coryo? Coryo, who seemed to so genuinely love you? Was this why some women called it making love? The idea made bile rise in your throat. Could you love Coryo?

You screamed as the pleasure overtook you. All of the other thoughts washed away. All that was left was you, and Coryo, and this oddly perfect moment. You were so wrapped up in the new sensation that you didn’t notice your husband pulling away until he was nearly gone. He paused as your hand gripped his wrist, urging him to stay. Why would he leave?

“I’ll be right back, petal. I need to get something to clean you up. You made quite the mess,” he said, teasing lilt rising at the end of his sentence.

You weren’t sure how long he was gone, but it was long enough for you to regain feeling in your legs. At least, enough feeling that you were able to push yourself up into a seated position. You tucked your legs against your chest and stared at the mess. Your mother hadn’t told you that this would be bloody. How could you not notice that? Were you that blinded by pleasure that you ignored your pain? You hadn’t realized that Coryo had that sort of effect on you. What happened to the girl all those months ago that would have spat in his face for touching her? Where had she gone? So much had changed in such a short amount of time.

The bile began to rise again. How could you have let yourself fall under his spell? You once laughed with Sejanus about how all the students at the Academy fell over themselves for a moment with the charming Coriolanus Snow. What had he done to you for you to ignore the beast inside?

A cold hand on your knee made you jerk. When you lifted your head, you saw Coriolanus standing at the edge of the bed. He pushed your legs apart and dragged a wet cloth you hadn’t realized he brought between them. You flinched. It was too rough. He was too rough. Or was this all in your head?

Coriolanus must have seen something on your face. “Are you alright?”

You pushed his hand away and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. You glanced around the room, searching for your robe. The room felt like it was spinning. Where was the damned robe? Stumbling over to the window, you finally found it. You were too exposed. After plucking it from the floor, you wrapped it around yourself as tight as you could manage and tied the string into a knot.

“What are you doing, petal?” Coriolanus asked. You heard him walk close to you, but you propelled yourself toward the door on the other of the room. The one that connected the King’s chambers to the Queen’s. “Come to bed. Please. Talk to me.”

“I’m going to bed,” you managed as you reached the door.

“Then why are you running?”

You pushed the door open. “I don’t wish to sleep with you.”

He followed after you. His long legs brought him to you in a few short strides. Coriolanus captured your wrist in one hand, urging you to stop. “Did I do something wrong? Petal, if I did, it wasn’t intentional.”

“I wish to be alone.”

You couldn’t look at him. You were scared to see his beautiful blue eyes dotted with sadness as he asked, “Did I hurt you?”

You wrenched your hand away. “I’ve done my duty for the night. Now, I would like to rest. Alone.”

Perhaps it was cruel to say such a thing. Perhaps Coriolanus didn’t even deserve it. But hurting him was easy. Striking him where it hurt was easy. Coriolanus Snow might genuinely love you, and nothing in your life scared you more.

“…If that is what you wish, I won’t push it. But I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re just a duty to me. You are the petals of the most beautiful rose. You are everything.” Coriolanus looked like he was near tears when you allowed yourself a glance at his face. “We leave in the morning for my family’s cottage. I thought you might like to spend our honeymoon away from prying eyes.”

You had already gone this far. “Don’t pretend you do anything for anyone but yourself.”

Coriolanus reeled back as if you slapped him. It might have hurt less if you had. Why were you being as cruel as him? “Everything I do is for you.”

“Then let me go.”

He took a step back. So did you. Two lovers, staring at each other, neither quite sure where they went wrong. Except, you did know this was your fault. But, dammit, he started it. Coriolanus confused your thoughts. You knew him as cruel and calculating for so long…How could you trust that anything he did was truly sincere? How could you believe that a man like him could love a woman like you?

You shut the door.

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

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slayfics · 8 months

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HEY since u said it was alright to request, I've been thinking about something for a While and i rlly like angst but i dont know if u rlly write that, I've only seen a bit in the muichiros mansion chapters, but i can rarely find the type of mui angst i want but basically its something like mui leaving us or something like that, IDK JS HEARTBREAKING ANGST IG😰😰 bc i love the pain and suffering once i see angst of a character leaving🫶🫶

HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT<333 TYSM

Muichiro breaks up with you.

You felt all the tension you had been caring for day finally release at receiving a crow from Muichiro. Ever since you heard of the upper demons attacking Swordsmith Village where Muichiro was you had not got a minute of sleep.

Finally not only was he safe, but healed as well. You had missed him dearly when he was gone and you felt butterflies in your stomach when you read his letter.

His letter indicated he wanted to talk to you as soon as possible about something extremely important. You made your way over to the usual spot you and Muichiro spent time together. A comfortable spot under a shady tree by the lake.

It filled your heart with joy just knowing you’d be in his company soon. You wanted nothing more than to let him know how dear he really was to you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t know how dangerous being a demon slayer was before, but when hearing he was up against an upper demon reality harshly set in. Any day it was possible that the two of you would be spending your last moments together.

You were beginning to get lost in thought when Muichiro arrived and sat down next you.

“Tokito!” You exclaimed and tightly embraced the Hashira.

“Hello…” he said, remaining still and not returning your affections in any way. This made your heart sink. Was something wrong?

“I’m sorry, I suppose I should have asked how you were healing first,” you said carefully letting go of the Hashira.

“Oh my body is healed… but I’m not quite myself yet,” he said, cryptically.

“Is everything ok? What happened in the village?” You asked hastily, concern overflowing from you.

“Well it appears I’ve recovered all my memories,” Muichiro said gently placing a hand on his head.

“Tokito, that’s wonderful!” You exclaimed with a big grin. However, the Hashira demeanor remained unpleasant.

“Yes and no…” he said, zoning off. You stayed silent hoping for him to elaborate. “The memories I recovered weren’t pleasant ones…”

You searched for comforting words but nothing came to mind other than, “Tokito, I’m so sorry.”

“No you see I am here to apologize,” he said, turning to face you. “What I uncovered has been more than I can process… you see it is a burden all on its own and… I don’t think I can effectively maintain our relationship while I go through this.” He said, watching you carefully.

You felt as though time had stopped. You searched his eyes hoping to see some indication that this was a joke. However, the Hashira’s eyes were as stern as ever. You tried to speak but it felt as though the air had been ripped out of your lungs.

“T-Tokito- I can help,” you muttered, pitifully as tears formed in your eyes.

“I appreciate your concern but you see… this is something I wish to go through on my own.” He said, gently grabbing your hand. “Please do not be sad, you’ve done nothing wrong. You’re a magnificent person. I hope you understand.”

You searched for words but nothing came. What were you supposed to say? If he wanted to be alone then that was the end of the conversation, wasn’t it? You looked down at his hand holding yours and hot anger flashed through you. How dare he touch you while he’s ripping your heart in two. You forcefully pulled your hand back.

Muichiro winced in response. He knew you’d be hurt but seeing it now was too much to handle. He had enough trauma to process and he was already overflowing with pain.

“I respect your decision, but I don’t understand.” You finally spat your anger getting the best of you. “You have a lot to process, that’s fair, but I could have supported you through that. Nothing is easier alone, Tokito.”

“Everyone processes things differently,” he said pleadingly, hoping to help you understand. “Maybe one day when I’m better we can try again.”

Your anger was a burning rage now ready to fully unleash. Did he really think he could hurt you and expect you to forgive him so easily when he was ready to start again?

“You can’t rip my feelings to shreds and just expect me to wait around for you, Tokito. Things don’t always work on your terms.” You said with venom in your voice.

Muichiro took a deep breath, tears now lining his own eyes. “Yes, you’re right. I don’t expect you to wait around. You deserve to be happy and if you find someone else before I’m ready… well, I wish you the best.”

“I wish I could say the same to you,” you said again, even more nasty than the last time.

Your statement seemed to be the last blow Muichiro could take as the tears dropped freely from his eyes. He turned around not wanting to face you anymore. He tried to muster up what he could to say goodbye but the lump in his throat was too much, so he parted his way silently leaving you alone.

Now alone your anger melted into despair as sobs that sounded too strong to be your own escaped you. All this time you were excited to see Muichiro, but you never expected this outcome.

You walked home as sobs still escaped you from time to time. Finally approaching your house you froze in shock at the sight you were met with.

Your estate was covered in origami cranes of varying sizes and shapes. You blinked and rubbed your eyes believing you were imagining them. However, the cranes remained and the longer you looked the more you seemed to see.

You walked up to the door where a letter was hanging that read:

Till we meet again.

-Tokito

You grabbed the letter and held it to your chest tears streaming once more. I hope you didn’t take me seriously Muichiro you thought to yourself. Of course, I’d wait for you, I’d wait lifetimes for you. Please once you’re ready run back to me.

Thank you for the very angsty request! I hope I did it justice and you enjoy~

Tags~

@aeolia18 @yandere-kou @sakurasunkiss @hashiroses @plvuii @snowmist-hashira

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disclove · 17 days

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distance makes the heart fonder. word count: 910. genre: best friends to strangers, angst! author's note: hiii (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) this is super angsty LOL enjoy! pls interact if you enjoyed!

"distance makes the heart fonder." she never bought that saying, because why would you need to be separated from someone you love to realize you love them, or to love them more?

but now the validity of the statement was crashing down on her like a ton of bricks.

she never thought her friendship with donghyuck would ever be long-term. she knew he would leave. she knew that she was replaceable. but it didn't mean she wanted it to happen. she cherished every moment they spent together. they spent hours together, either in each other's dorms, or in the library, or in the dining hall—they never needed to make plans, because they were comfortable in each other's presence alone.

even if they weren't physically together, they would be texting every day. and even if she wanted to, it was nearly impossible to scroll to the very top of their message history.

but now, all of that was over. because of another girl.

and she realized that she was undoubtedly in love with him; she was in love with a boy whose heart would never be hers.

but where did she go wrong? she remembered all of her friends excitedly asking if donghyuck, her new friend, was into her.

"you guys are always together, every second of the day you guys aren't in class! he has to like you." "you guys are so cute! i hope he confesses soon."

maybe her friends made her overconfident. but clearly, he was never going to confess. maybe because he never liked her.

well, maybe she never should've introduced him to her friends. maybe she never should've let him get close with her circle of people. if he never got to know her friends, she could selfishly keep him all to herself.

the day her heart shattered was the day she went to jisung's house party.

about an hour into the party, she turned the corner to find the bathroom, and saw him making out with one of her friends.

one of her friends, that encouraged her to date haechan. the irony.

before they even noticed her presence, she just ran. yeah, that's all she's good at, anyway. running away from everything. running away from confrontation when her friends inevitably leave her, running away from conflicts by supressing her feelings.

and no one even notices her absence when she runs out of the party, tears streaming down her face as she runs all the way down the block back to her dorm. and she felt so utterly alone.

haechan was her everything, and she felt so bare having no one else to turn to. and in the next week, she pretends not to notice the hickeys on his neck, she pretends to be sick to avoid seeing him.

unfortunately, he knows her better than that.

"i know you're not sick, are you okay?" he texts her.

"not really." and she refuses to elaborate. all she wanted to do was forget.

how do you fix a broken heart?

she cancels on the day a few of their friends were supposed to go out for dinner. he's concerned, texting her if she's okay, but she forces herself to stay distant.

"i'm ok." i've been crying for hours every day trying to get over you, but i wouldn't tell you that, would i?

he still brings her back an iced coffee. he got her order wrong, and accidentally ordered her a straight black coffee with no milk or sugar, but he had frantically grabbed a handful of sugar packets in an attempt to fix the mistake.

she offers a halfhearted smile and thanks him, but it's taking everything in her not to start crying.

she regrets not trying to maintain the friendship with him, but it's not like he was trying very hard either.

they barely saw each other outside of class. and every time she checks his location, he was with her.

replaced.

she felt so utterly replaceable and forgotten, her eyes tearing up uncontrollably whenever she sees haechan do everything they used to do with another girl. from their spotify habits to hanging out together in his dorm with the lights down low, decorative LED lights on, and projector playing a movie that neither of them were actually paying attention to.

she opens her mouth to ask if he wants to hang out sometime, but he had already turned his back to leave her dorm.

so she just says, "see you", and goes back into her dorm.

it was heartbreaking, but she had to accept the truth. he was gone.

lee haechan would never be hers, and she would never be his.

one thing was for sure. he was gone, and he was never coming back. their relationship was never going to be the same again.

and the saying was true. as much as she wanted to hate him for everything, she couldn't. she was stupidly in love, and it just got worse as time went on. everything she did reminded herself of him. the snacks they always ate together, the specific library rooms in the basement that they regularly booked every week that were now occupied by him and a different girl, their identical boba order, even her phone case.

but she had to move on. whatever they had was undoubtedly over. forever. the two of them would date, and she would distract herself from thinking about him, meet new people, and move on eventually.

#nct drabbles #nct dream scenarios #nct dream angst #nct scenarios #haechan x reader #nct angst #haechan imagines #haechan angst #haechan drabbles

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autistic-inmate · 1 year

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SUPERNATURAL LUCIFER X FEM!READER

(Reader is referred to as sister)

- You joke around with Lucifer and your brother, Dean, doesn’t like it :)

fluff 😇

1.2k words

I walked into the room that my brothers were in, "Where's Clarence?"

"Not sure, said he had some angel business to deal with." Dean muttered as he continued to stare at his laptop screen. I sighed and fell down onto one of the chairs "I'm booorreedd." I whined and nobody said anything, "Ok I guess I'll go annnd.." I paused while I thought about what to do, "Find a case." Normally they would 'advise' not to because it could be dangerous on my own, but they didn't even look up. Maybe I should elaborate, "Actually you know what? I'm gonna go find a vamps nest." Ok they definitely wouldn't let me go alone. But I still got no answer.

"Ignore everything I just said, I can't be bothered. I think, I'm just gonna go talk to one of the angels." I hoped that would get their attention considering they dislike most of them. "Hey, I should go talk to the devil, I mean he's probably pretty lonely." Ok that must have gotten there attention. Nope, still nothing.

Alright well, "Lucifer. You know? Satan?" That caught their attention and Dean glared at me but I smiled innocently. Sam looked at me over his laptop, "What? Sorry, I'm just trying to figure this out and I feel like I haven't slept in years, did you say something about Lucifer? Has something happened?" I could tell I hit a bit of a nerve by mentioning his name but how else was I supposed to get their attention. "No, well yes I said I should go talk to him 'cause he's probably lonely." I smiled innocently at them again but they didn't look very happy.

"Don't even joke about that. I don't want you anywhere near him." I could tell Dean was serious but I didn't understand why. Well, I did, I knew why. He's killed people, he wanted Sam as a vessel, he tried to start the apocalypse and he is Satan. But I know a side to Lucifer that they don't, a side to him that's not all death and destruction.

I was about to speak but I felt the temperature drop. I saw the panic in Sams face and Dean reached for his gun by instinct. "You called, darling?" Oh joy, Lucifer is here.

"What a pleasant surprise." I turned to face him with the fakest, most cheesiest grin I could manage. "You were thinking off me so damn much that it basically came to me like a prayer, why were you thinking about me, Y/N?" He smirked as he walked closer to us and I rolled my eyes. "I was thinking about how much of an ass you are, my brothers here were agreeing." I smirked right back at him and he scoffed "I know you like me really and you enjoy my company more than anyone else's, you're not fooling anyone." He shrugged slightly like what he had just said was painfully obvious.

"Ok that's enough, I can't take it anymore. Lucifer what the hell are you doing here, really?" Dean looked pretty mad that I was joking around with the devil but who can blame me, he's quite funny when he's not trying to start world war three.

"You act like I'm about to try and start the apocalypse Deany, I mean c'mon, I'm totally over all that now." He smiled like he just told Dean he'd bought him some flowers and baked him a cake. "Right of course, I'm sorry for assuming the worst from the literal devil, you must've just popped in to give me chocolate and watch a movie with us." Dean spoke sarcastically and Lucifer pretended to be offended and shook his head. "Wow. I know you don't like me, but that was harsh. I mean, I really did come here to watch a movie. Not with you exactly, but that is the reason. I can't believe you think so lowly of me Deano." Lucifer matched Deans sarcastic tone and it just pissed my brothers off even more, meanwhile I found it to be good entertainment.

"First of all, stop adding letters onto my name. Secondly, if you mean that you came to watch a movie with my sister? You can forget it. I won't let you get anywhere near her." Aaaaaand protective brother mode is officially on. "I'm already near her." Lucifer scoffed as he walked closer to me and threw his arm around my shoulders. "Dude get your big ass arm off of me." I tried to shrug his arm off but he added another arm so he was giving me a really weird side hug, successfully trapping me in his arms.

However before I could complain anymore, a sudden gunshot echoes throughout the room and it makes me flinch. Lucifer let go of me with a grunt. "Ouch." He pouted like a child that didn't get his own way.

I turned to look at him and realised that Dean had shot him. "Was that really necessary, Dean? I can handle myself against big ole pouty satan over here." I felt him poke me at the insult so I looked back at him to see him still pouting and I giggled. "Yes. It was completely necessary. I told him that I wasn't gonna let him near you, Y/N. I don't like how close you two seem, all buddy-buddy and shit, it's not right. Has he got you under some sorta spell? Do you need help, Y/N? 'Cause I definitely do not have a problem with killing the devil himself." Dean looked between the two of us practically giggling like a pair of school girls.

"Yes Dean, he has me under a very powerful spell." He didn't look impressed with my sarcasm. "Whatever, but you hurt her and I swear I will find a way to end you." And with that promise he left the room. We both looked at Sam and it was pretty awkward for a second before he cleared his throat "Yeah, Well I- erm- I need to carry on with this, so.." He got up and walked out with his laptop.

"Wow. You know, you could be here to kill me and both of my brothers just left me to be murdered." I joked and turned around to face him.

"You know I'd never hurt you though, right? You are one of the very very few humans I can tolerate." His smirk was replaced with a genuine smile as he looked down at me. "I know." I nodded and it was quite for a moment as I looked at him, taking in his features. Damn, his eyes are so pretty and his hair looks so fluffy, I want to just run my hands through it so fucking bad.

"So," I cleared my throat like I was trying to get rid of the tension in the room. "What movie do you wanna watch, Luci?" My eyes widened slightly as I realised what I had called him, but it was too late, he had already heard it. "'Luci' huh?" I was about to start apologetically rambling before I noticed a grin spread across his face. "I like it, but only from you. I don't want some demon walking around calling me 'Luci ', it'll ruin my reputation." He chuckled, "Oh and I'm 99.9% sure that you forgot I can read your thoughts, your eyes are pretty too." His smirk was back as he cockily walked out of the room, leaving me stood on my own in embarrassment.

#lucifer supernatural #supernatural #lucifer #spn fanfic #spnfamily #spn lucifer #lucifer x reader #supernatural lucifer x reader #archangel #fallen angel #luci #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #winchester sibling

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lovepersevering13 · 4 months

Note

Now could you elaborate on Michael's autism

Alright it’s Michael’s turn!

I want to preface this part the same as before: I’m not a psychiatrist, this isn’t how autism is experienced by everyone and let me know if anything is incorrect :) oh also I’m a little bit more educated on how Autism is shown in girls so this one is a bit of a mess.

Ok so for Michael I kinda had to think for a bit about some like concrete evidence because I didn’t have anything annotated for him like Tori but I think I’ve come up with a pretty compelling argument (also I thought I’d let you know that as I was doing this I started to realise Michael may have ADHD but I don’t really go into that too much).

Firstly:

Alice Oseman herself supports this headcanon so…. Anhahahahajaja omg I can’t explain how happy this makes me! Anyway, let’s get into what I found in Solitaire!

1. Masking

- “Do you get angry a lot?” I say.

“I’m always angry,” he says.” Solitaire, Page 213

Ok we know Michael generally is a very upbeat, positive person on the outside but as we get to know him we learn he’s only barely happier than Tori. When I think about this covering up of his anger with overly positive emotions it is clear to that he is masking (Suppressing Autistic traits). Pessimism is a common m trait of Autism and the way I see it, Michael is overcompensating for this by acting super happy all the time to cover it up.

2. Deficit in social understanding

- “Do you remember when he tried to get everyone to do a flash mob for the Year 11 prank?” says Nick. “And in the end he just did it by himself on the lunch tables?” Nick Nelson, Solitaire, Page 39.

This quote when Nick and Charlie are talking about Michael shows and extreme lack of care about social consequences.

- “Michael Holden has swooped into the restaurant.” Solitaire, page 46

Ok so this quote and the entire scene on pages 46/47 where Michael shows up unannounced because he wants to ask Tori something displays extreme impulsivity and impulsivity is a common Autistic trait. He also didn’t care about the lack of social etiquette displayed by crashing a hangout he wasn’t invited to.

- “Michael is helping himself to our leftover starters” Solitaire, Page 48

Again, lack of social awareness because you aren’t really supposed to crash someone else’s dinner and just start eating their food.

- “He races inside and, without bothering to let me leave or shut the door, he lifts the toilet seat and starts to pee.” Solitaire, (I forgot the page)

LACK OF SOCIAL ETTIQUITE. DUDE.

- “He’s the strangest person I’ve ever met.” Solitaire, Page 62

- “I know Nick and I said he’s weird - and he is weird -“ Charlie Spring, Solitaire, Page 177

- “He looks sort of out of place everywhere.” Solitaire, (I lost the page)

People with Autism are often described as being “strange,” “weird,” or “peculiar,” because they are different from their peers which can make them stand out and struggle to fit in.

- “I, er, didn’t get on too well with the people there. Not the teachers, not the students…” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 148

Because of the fact that people with Autism struggle with social understanding it can be very difficult to make friends and get along with other people.

- “I’ve never been good enough,” he says. “I get so stressed out, I don’t make friends - God, I can’t make friends.” His eyes glaze over. “Sometimes I just wish I were a normal human being. But I can’t. I’m not. No matter how hard I try.” Michael Holden, Solitiare, Page 376

Yeah, this quote hurts my heart. So many people with Autism feel as though they don’t fit in and that they aren’t normal. When you don’t have a diagnosis it can be especially difficult because you don’t know why. You know there’s something different about you, you know other people are doing and feeling things you aren’t and you know you’re doing and feeling things other people aren’t, but you don’t know why. It can be super isolating.

3. Challenging Authority Figures

- “…having that argument with Mr Yates during his mock exams!” Either Nick or Charlie, Solitaire, Page 40

- “I swore at Kent.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 269

It’s very common for people with Autism to challenge authority figures. Generally this is because they often naturally assume equanimity and don’t understand why some people should get more respect then others if they aren’t seemingly deserving of it. This stems from having a heightened sense of justice and empathy.

4. Autism and Sexualtiy

- “I guess you could say I’m not too fussy about gender.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, (I forgot the page)

We know Michael’s canonically Pan and as we’ve previously discussed (read Tori’s part for more info) Autism and the LGBTQ+ community are heavily intertwined. I tried to look into Autism’s correlation to Pansexuality but couldn’t find anything specific.

I also wanted to add in a little fact about how Neurodivergent people tend to gravitate towards eachother and queer people tend to do the same so Michael and Tori makes a lot of sense.

5. Special Interests/HyperFixations

Ok so, Michael gets pretty into Solitiare. Right from the start he’s obsessed. Taking photos of the posts, insisting they go to the meet up. I’d probably say it’s a hyperfixation.

And DISNEY. Holy heck Michael loves Disney… and if you haven’t caught on already, yeah imma say it’s a special interest.

- “He gasps and grabs a third DVD, leaps across the room to the flat-screen and switches it on. “We’re watching beauty and the beast,” he says.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 115

I mean look at how excited he gets over ‘Beauty and the Beast’.

6. School

- “Seriously. I haven’t gotten above a C grade in any subject since Year 8.”

“It seems almost impossible for someone like Michael to be unintelligent. People like Michael - people who get stuff done - they’re always smart. Always.” Solitaire, Page 188

- “When it comes to exams… I generally don’t write what they want me to write. I’m not very good at, well, sorting out all the stuff in my head.“

“I just don’t know what the examiners want to hear. I don’t know whether I just forget things, or maybe I don’t know how I’m supposed to explain it. I just don’t know.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 118

- “Because I hate school!” This is quite loud. He starts to shake his head.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, (I forgot the page)

A lot of people with Autism struggle with school and like Tori points out, it’s not because they’re not smart, Michael is smart. It’s just that the education system isn’t fitted to benefit Neurodivergent children. So many things affect Autism in schools. The dreadful sensory environment, lack of control over what they can and can’t do and the difficult social pressures.

7. Emotional dysregulation

- “He clenches his fist and he snarls. He actually snarls at me.

“Maybe you are a manically depressed psychopath.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 163

Emotional Dysregulation is the inability to control the intensity and expression of emotions. This is common in people with Autism and can result in overly intense emotions and lashing out. I think this is something that heavily impacts both Tori and Michael and results in a lot of their arguments. The aforementioned quote is just one example of how quickly and dramatically their arguments blow up due to this.

- “His face contorts into a kind of scrunched-up snarl, his fists curl, his skin drains of colour, and he storms past the man and tramps over to the benches. He reaches a row of lockers and looks into them, blankly, chest visibly expanding and contracting. With an almost terrifying malice, he throws a crazed punch at the lockers, wailing a subdued howl of rage. Turning, he hurls a kick at a pile of racing helmets, scattering them about the floor. He clutches his hair, as if trying to pull it out.” Solitaire, Page 211

Oh there is just so much to cover here. So this is a prime example of an Autistic meltdown. Autistic meltdowns can be caused by overwhelming emotions (In this situation that is Michael loosing his race) and result in an outburst which can include crying, screaming (“howl of rage”), aggression (punching the lockers and kicking the helmets) and self injurious behaviours (Pulling his hair). It’s probably worth mentioning that a few of the outbursts he has towards teachers that I mentioned earlier are probably also meltdowns.

8. Stimming

- “Michael starts whistling.” Solitaire, page 198

Whistling is a form of stimming, this particular quote is from when they are in Truham looking for Charlie, considering Michael’s disdain for Truham I can imagine it was a slightly stressful environment to be back in which would validly result in a need for stimming. I actually couldn’t find any other examples of stimming except possibly the hair pulling that was mentioned in the last quote.

9. Pattern Recognition

So pattern recognition is the autistic brains increased ability to recognise patterns and in Solitaire Michael is the first person to put together the fact that all of Solitaire’s pranks were related to Tori. I really can’t be bothered to find the quote where they talk about those

10. Safe foods

I think that Tea is probably a safe food for Michael because he is often mentioned to have a mug of Tea in his hands. (But I’m not British so maybe this is like normal? How much tea do British people actually drink?)

1. Miscellaneous Quotes

- Since when did you acquire a body temperature” Solitaire, page 112

I know it’s probably supposed to be related to figure skating but struggling with temperature regulation is very common amongst people with Autism.

- “Most of the time at school I can’t even decide what pen to use.” Michael Holden, Solitaire, page 149

Indecisiveness is very common amoungst people with Autism

Alright that’s a wrap on Michael Holden. I’m thinking of doing a conjoined part for Charlie and Oliver if anyone would be interested in reading that :)

Some of the resources I used:

https://livingautism.com/decision-making-problems-adults-asd/

Thermal Perceptual Thresholds are typical in Autism Spectrum Disorder but ...

https://sparkforautism.org/discover_article/managing-emotions/

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7430467/

https://neuroclastic.com/autism-and-responding-to-authority/?amp

#michael holden #Michael Holden Solitaire #tori and michael #tori spring #autistic Michael Holden #autistic tori spring #autism coded #autism coding #autism headcanons #autistic Headcanons #alice oseman solitaire #Alice Oseman #solitaire book #heartstopper season 3 #heartstopper book #heartstopper netflix #heartstopper #nick and charlie

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hufflautia · 4 months

Text

Mine

This is part 2 of my mini-series Betrayal. Read Part 1: Cheater

Summary: Slytherin is willing to do anything to get Hufflepuff back...anything.

After the breakup, life wasn’t the same for Slytherin. Hufflepuff had been his sunshine. Without her, a cloud of gray drifted over him wherever he went, her absence a reminder of what he had done.

They hardly talked anymore after the breakup. When they crossed paths in the corridors, Hufflepuff didn’t glance in his direction, but he could tell she was just as heartbroken as he was.

Regret and guilt consumed him. Barely focused on his Transfiguration notes, he pushed the assignment aside and leaned back on the headboard of his bed, reminiscing about all the good times they had. He thought about the warmth of her cheek that pressed against his chest while they cuddled, her gentle touch as she absentmindedly traced the scar on his chin, her cheeky laugh in his ear as they danced beneath the stars.

Slytherin needed to get her back. He just didn’t know how.

Hufflepuff wasn’t doing too good either. She wanted answers, trying to make sense of why Slytherin did what he did—and more importantly, why he had kept it from her in the first place. She came to the conclusion that even if she had all the answers in the world, it wouldn’t change what happened.

She ended the relationship soon after the confrontation. There were pictures of them making silly faces that decorated her nightstand. His sweatshirts were draped over the edge of her trunk. Unable to look at anything that reminded her of him, she discarded the painful memories of their love. Her room felt empty afterwards, as if an important puzzle piece was missing.

Falling in love with Slytherin was like entering a house and realizing she was finally home. He comforted her when she lost her parents a few years ago. With him gone, it felt like she was losing everyone all over again.

Holed up in her dormitory, Hufflepuff felt worse than usual; today was supposed to be their one-year anniversary.

Someone covered her eyes. “Guess who?”

Even though she couldn’t see the person, she immediately knew who it was.

Hufflepuff gently pried the hands away and turned to face Slytherin. Her heart swelling at the sight of him, she stood up and greeted him with a hug. “What are these for,” she asked, noting the yellow blossoms in his hand.

“For our anniversary, sunshine. Did you think I’d forget it was my turn?”

They took turns planning their anniversary. Last month, Hufflepuff had snuck into the kitchens in the middle of the night to bake a cake for him. She got in trouble when the house-elves found her asleep on the counter the next morning. It was all worth it in the end when she finally presented the dessert to him after detention. A wide grin spread on his face as he tried not to laugh at the fact that she spent more time with Filch instead of him on their special day.

She sheepishly looked away. “During breakfast, you didn’t say a word about our anniversary.”

“That was all a ruse,” he explained, intertwining his fingers through hers. “I wanted you to think I didn’t remember so that you’d be surprised when I show you the elaborate date I’ve planned.”

She leaned into his outstretched arms, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”

Slytherin stroked her hair.

“It’s ok, I don’t blame you. My acting skills were really on-point this morning.”

Hufflepuff suppressed a laugh. The smile tugging at Slytherin’s lips broke into a playful grin, and he offered his hand. “Shall we? I’d rather not spend our anniversary in the library.”

“Anywhere with you is perfect,” she beamed.

Slytherin clicked his tongue.

“That’s sweet and all, but let’s seriously get out of here. I hate libraries.”

Exhaling a laugh, she took his hand and allowed him to lead the way. He brought her to the place where they first met: a secluded area that overlooked the Black Lake.

Hufflepuff, who was blindfolded, clutched his arm tightly as they walked. He untied the cloth.

The picnic had taken half of the day to prepare, but it was all worth it when he saw Hufflepuff’s face. Her cautious grin had exploded into a radiant smile, and before Slytherin could say anything else, she jumped into his embrace.

“I love you so so so much,” Hufflepuff said, accenting each word with a kiss to his lips. “These were the best ten months of my life.”

Slytherin smiled warmly.

“It’s not over yet, sunshine. There will be many more months to come.”

He leaned down to kiss her once more.

Hufflepuff’s vision blurred, and she wiped her cheeks. If only she could forget everything that happened. If only she could forget him.

Hufflepuff was walking across the courtyard when someone called out to her. She turned to see Gryffindor. He gestured for her to sit on the cobblestone steps beside him.

Dropping her bag on the floor, Hufflepuff sat down with a small smile. It’d be nice to sit in some company other than her pet owl. Her mind all over the place, she only paid half attention to their small talk. It wasn’t until Gryffindor put his hand on her shoulder that she met his eyes.

“How are you feeling about…” He trailed off.

“It’s just not the same,” she shook her head. “I’m trying to get by, but I feel like it’ll be forever before I’m okay again.”

Gryffindor nodded, his brows furrowed. Hufflepuff watched him rummage for something in his bag. He pulled out a book with a blank cover.

“Can I read an excerpt that I think you’d like?”

With her nod, he began.

“Healing will grow you. Healing will iron out the creases of your ache. Healing will stop the heavy thrashing inside your heart. Healing will melt you back into softness. Healing will let the hurt bathe you. Healing will make you stronger.”

He looked up from the pages. “And the first step of healing is to let go of the past.”

The past. It jolted her whenever she thought back to that moment.

“Hufflepuff!”

She smiled when she realized it was Gryffindor.

“Hey Gryff!” He was out of breath and staring at her as if her pet owl died. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell you something,” he murmured, grabbing her arm. He brought her to a quiet corridor and, with an anxious inhale, told her what happened in the library. His frown deepened when she laughed.

“You must have mistaken him for someone else,” she said. “Slytherin would never do that.”

Even when Gryffindor swore on his grandpa’s grave that he was telling the truth, Hufflepuff didn’t believe him. He let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his temple. He straightened.

“Come with me.”

She followed after him easily. After all, there wouldn’t be any proof to show since Slytherin didn’t do anything.

“Where are we going?” They had been walking through a dark corridor and she was getting antsy.

Gryffindor stopped in front of a door with a strange engraved symbol. He pulled out his wand.

“Alohamora!”

The door clicked open and he beckoned Hufflepuff to go inside. She stepped in, and her eyes widened.

“Gryffindor,” she exclaimed. “We’re not supposed to be in Slughorn’s office—”

“This’ll be quick.” He started to scour through the clutter of items on the table.

As Hufflepuff waited, something caught her eye in the corner and she approached it.

It was a shallow basin made with stone. Precious stones and strange symbols decorated the sides. It was filled with a silver substance, wisps of smoke slithering into the air.

“You found it.”

Hufflepuff jumped as Gryffindor moved to her side. She gulped and looked back in the pot.

“Is that?– ...”

“The Pensieve,” he answered softly.

Her stomach twisted. She heard about it in class once, and her professor’s words echoed in her head. “The Pensieve is a magical object used to review memories.”

Hufflepuff closed her eyes and took deep breaths. There was no way Slytherin cheated. No, not her Slytherin.

When she opened them, he had already drawn a glowing strand from his temple and was dropping the memory into the basin. She stared as the shimmering particles stirred.

Gryffindor stood with her, the heaviness of the situation weighing on him. Having known both Slytherin and Hufflepuff for so long, he himself felt complete shock at what his friend had done. He couldn’t imagine how this would affect Hufflepuff. Even though he felt like a terrible friend for bringing her here, he would be an even worse one if he hid this.

“We can leave if you want,” Gryffindor said. “We can forget this ever happened.”

She met his gaze, her eyebrows drawn together.

“But you’re gonna spend the rest of your life wishing you knew the truth.”

Hufflepuff knew he was right. She wished he was wrong. With a shaky inhale, she entered the Pensieve.

Her chest was wrought with pain as she remembered what it was like to see Slytherin with Ravenclaw. The image of their locked lips squirmed its way in again, and she angrily expelled it from her mind.

Slytherin was her whole world at a point. But she was starting to realize that she didn’t need him. He could run to Ravenclaw for the rest of his half-finished handjob for all she cared.

“You’re right,” she said. “I need to let go.”

Gryffindor squeezed her hand. “I’m always here for you if you need anything.”

She smiled back and nodded. Slytherin wasn’t in her life anymore, but she still had a strong support system, and that was never gonna change.

Gryffindor gathered his notes into a pile and stuffed them into his bag, silently scolding himself for not studying for his Potions exam earlier. He was gonna have to stay up tonight to prepare.

He started for the exit and froze. Shit.

Slytherin stood by the door, his arms crossed.

“Surprised to see me?”

“Not really. I figured I’d run into you at some point.”

“At some point,” Slytherin repeated. “You mean after you betrayed me?”

He eyed the wand in his former friend’s hand. “What’re you talking about?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Dude, I don’t know what—”

“You fucking told her,” Slytherin exploded, his eyes blazing.

“You’re the one who cheated,” Gryffindor scoffed. “You’re a bigger idiot than I took you for if you thought I was gonna stay quiet. She doesn’t deserve that.”

His lips curled into a wry smile. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“What in the blazes are you going on about?”

“I saw you two in the courtyard today,” he hissed. “You were holding hands. You think you’re so high and mighty, but you’re trying to steal her away from me–”

“Hufflepuff isn’t an object,” Gryffindor glared. “She is her own person, she belongs to no one.”

Slytherin lets out a dry laugh. “Merlin’s beard…how could I not see it before? You have feelings for her…in fact, you probably planned all of this from the beginning! How convenient that you were in the library at that exact time–”

“Christ, Slytherin, give it a rest! You’re coming up with all these conspiracy theories to make up for the fact that Hufflepuff is never going to forgive you.”

The words hung in the air, and Slytherin fell silent. The thought of living in a world in which Hufflepuff wasn’t with him was too much to bear. He tightened his hold around the wand and shook his head.

“You’re wrong.”

He turned and set off into the dark corridors. He was going to make things right.

Hufflepuff dangled her legs over the ledge of the observatory. The stars winked at her as she gazed into the distance, thinking about what Gryffindor had said.

Healing will stop the heavy thrashing inside your heart.

She knew she would be okay at some point, and a day would drift by in which thoughts of Slytherin would not plague her. But she was impatient. She just wanted to forget him. She wanted to stop hurting.

“I thought you’d be here.”

Hufflepuff gasped and spun around. Her face dropped.

“Leave.”

Slytherin stepped in front of her, his arms raised.

“Wait, please, I need to talk to you–”

“You don’t get to say anything to me,” she said coldly.

“But I love you,” he cried, clasping their hands together. “And you love me.”

Her eyes glistened as she stared at him ruefully.

“And look where that love has brought us.”

“Please,” he whispered. “Just give me another chance.”

“I trusted you, and you hurt me.”

“You can still trust me–”

“Then tell me this,” Hufflepuff yanked her hands away. “When were you going to tell me what happened?”

When he didn’t respond, she huffed wryly. “Or should I say if you were even gonna tell me.”

Her shoulder shoved against his as she started for the door.

“Remember how I was by your side after your parents died?” His words glued her to the floor. “Who will you go to if you leave me?”

Slytherin turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. His head jerked to the side as a resounding slap rings across the room.

“How dare you mention them,” she hissed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “I would rather be alone than be with you.”

“You can’t mean that,” his voice was low, wrought with heartbreak. “Please, Hufflepuff, I love you.”

Hufflepuff gazed at him through a curtain of tears. Red tinged his skin, and she squashed the instinct to cup his cheek and run her thumb over his cheek.

“I loved you.”

Anguish gripped him as she turned away. A gut feeling clawed into his stomach, and it told him this would be the last time she would ever willingly talk to him.

Slytherin couldn’t let her go. He wouldn’t.

Without thinking, he raised his wand at her and let the words slip from his mouth.

The whole walk back to his dormitory, Slytherin kept his head down. The day went by in a blur; he had no idea how he got through Potions, but his distraction didn’t go by unnoticed. By the end of the class, he lost his house 20 points for not paying attention. But he didn’t care.

Had he made a mistake last night?

A pair of worn shoes stood in front of his path. His thoughts flitted away when he saw who it was.

“Get lost, Evras.”

Gryffindor grabbed his shoulder and dragged him into a nearby classroom. “I know what you did,” he snarled, slamming the door shut.

Slytherin shoved his hand away. “Get your hands off me unless you want to go swimming with the selkies tonight.”

“I thought you were a piece of shit before, but I never thought you’d do something like this…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve done nothing wrong. Besides,” Slytherin smirked, “it’s not like you have any evidence.”

Gryffindor glared at him steely. “I’ll find a way to prove it. I’m gonna bring her back to…to normal.”

“Hufflepuff is fine,” he hummed, though his voice wavered. “Everything’s perfect, the way they should be.”

As he sauntered to the door, Gryffindor called after him. “You think you can get away with this?”

“I already have. I just need to take care of one more thing.”

“Which is?”

Slytherin turned around and raised his wand at him.

“You.”

Slytherin hovered over Hufflepuff’s sleeping figure, brushing a stray hair away from her face. The dark circles under her eyes were already disappearing. He smiled. She always slept best with him by her side.

It was as if everything happened in slow motion that night. The obliviation spell hit Hufflepuff, and her body tilted forward. He rushed forward and caught her before she hit the floor. Shame weighed heavily on him afterward, and he tossed and turned in his bed until dawn peeked through the windows.

But when she woke up yesterday from the spell and her eyes filled with love, all his pain faded away. It was almost as if the incident never happened. He definitely made the right choice. After all, they were together again.

Gryffindor was already taken care of. Besides having a small headache the next morning, his old best friend greeted him happily, but Slytherin knew now not to let him get too close to Huff again. He might have forgotten what happened too, but he still might have lingering feelings for his girlfriend.

His thoughts were interrupted by a small mewl. Hufflepuff wiggled in his grasp, and she scrunched her nose at the sun melting across her skin. The light surrounded her like a halo, and Slytherin kissed the tip of her nose.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

She smiled drowsily and wrapped her arms around his torso. “What time is it,” she croaked into his shirt.

“Way past your usual 9 a.m. alarm, but I thought I’d let you rest.”

Hufflepuff yawned and stretched her arms. Her knuckle brushed against the naked wall, and she blinked a couple of times. “What happened to all the pictures of us?”

Slytherin glanced up, and a shadow fell across his face. “I think your roommates were just messing around, but it’s okay. We can make new memories and take other pictures, right?”

Her lips twisted. Her roommates wouldn’t touch her stuff without her permission…

Without a second of thought, he crashed his lips into hers. The kiss was filled with desperation and his hands dragged into her hair, pulling her impossibly closer. She had to pull away to catch a breath.

“You’re more cuddly than usual,” she smiled, her head still woozy.

He stared at her with an empty longing. “I just missed you.”

“But I saw you yesterday,” she laughed.

Slytherin hummed and murmured, “Well, it felt like forever.”

She beamed and rested her head on his chest. “I love you.”

The words were like honey, and he smiled back. It had been so long since she uttered those words to him.

“I love you too.”

Hufflepuff curled her arms around his shoulders and leaned in, her eyelashes fluttering shut as their noses brushed together. Slytherin smiled blissfully, her lips like rose petals against his. His arm snaked around her waist as he deepened the kiss.

Mine.

Check out my masterlist! | Kind comments and reblogs are most appreciated :)

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

AAAAAAAAAAA!!!????

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!

dont hate me!!!! ive been gone for too long yall but i wasn't really thinking of staying :( but i went on tumblr last night just for the heck of it and i was like damn..i wanna post something bc god BLESS those who sent some asks in, i think of u fr fr it makes me feel all warm inside hehe <3 so yea i wanted to feed my children bc yall have not had a meal in YEARS

anyways ive been working on this for a longgggg time, and my edits were always very sporadic, but i finally decided to finish it but this bitch has been gathering dust in my docs. i even had a separate doc for my authors note and i just looked it over and its funny as fuck LMAO so I'm just gonna throw in all the memes i had in there, get ready for a fucking HOOT

ok anyways enjoy!! love love love

Sometimes I think of my one-shots as AUs of the slytherpuff series, because in future one-shots, if needed, i will use the same last names (lestrange and tian). In this case, i feel like all of this wouldn’t have happened in the first place because sly would’ve yeeted ravenclaw across the library lmadomafijnvsd

from cheater to mine:

these are the people who didnt want a part two lmao:

gryff at sly after obliviate:

gryffindor at sly to leave her alone ^

THIS WAS IN MY DRAFTS AT THE BEGINNING STAGES OF MY WRITING FOR THIS AHAH:

slytherin core:

you rn:

cut the cameras,.,, deadass

"Without thinking, he raised his wand at her and let the words slip from his mouth before he could stop himself, consumed with desperation."

https://www.google.com/search?q=the+office+dont+meme&oq=the+office+dont+meme&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUyBggAEEUYOTIJCAEQABgKGIAEMgoIAhAAGAoYFhgeMgoIAxAAGAoYFhgeMgoIBBAAGAoYFhgeMg0IBRAAGIYDGIAEGIoF0gEIMjY1MWowajeoAgCwAgA&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8#vhid=OW1kn2CU-kTGIM&vssid=l

that is all i had written in my doc, future huffautia is back! i remember making those memes and i cackled so much. i hope u guys laughed too and enjoyed the story, pls pls pls let me know ur thoughts bc i would loveee to hear what u guys think heheheh. more dark sly fanfics??? lmk.

i am not sure when or if i will be back :( i have so much unfinished fics piled up, but not much motivation or time. this may be the last fic i post bc it was the one i was most close to finishing, but ur support does help a lot, so send in asks, comments, and dms!! love u, be well :) thank you for this journey. heart heart!!

tags:

@HOPEFUL-HUFFLEPUFF-PEEVES @ka-to-sa @oa-mm @hufflepooooff @cinnamon-roll-unicorn @princessstoopid @jasminedayz @magnoliamermaid @hufflepuff-brunette @theclassictragedy @minetticatinwonderland @xxmichx @pancakes-and-sugar @theif-charm @happy-puff @onefoureightfive @hellounicorn @applekenm @toni-wood @sirenofthe7seas @dracos-eternity @guildedmoongamer @doalokiandrun @hannanshi @intotheunknownuwu @izukuisfrickingadorable117 @neonuzumaki @alverniaphi @captainam-erika-trash @nikkijovanic @strawberrypanda99 @fuckthenewyorkpost @chewyladyfingers @dracoswhore007 @chocolett @hmilkwhoney @introvertedrae @pinqgchuu @dracosvftie @infared-eyeliner @rosethevoid @pastelkhaleesi @pisces-daydreams @stardustzainy @quakemebacktothe50s @history-geek101 @zenobiagrace @eunnieah @zigqy @cryingabtwandavision @widowsgranger @writtenfoxscreams @nugnugchick @hinanitiram @aestheticworld99 @skipingonthesidewalk @moonyisastonerboy @lucyrod18-blog @thewitcheswords @shipping-book-keeper @niicoraizumii @idocarealot @syrenak @ajdqueen @imscaredofhorses @markedsweetly @kaslec @bewiitchings @dont-hyuck @lewispoolerpayton @1hufflepuff @swagangelhorsepickle @elegantcroissantplaidpony @uhhhem @thankfulfor @summerbbygirl @maraudeersmap @udontneedtokno @inexperiencedpotathoe @sweetinvisiblewriter @peanut-in-the-goal @da-fox-rangerrr @angel-blogging

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teyamsatan · 1 year

Text

The Archer | Chapter VIII: Bigger Than The Whole Sky

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Summary: As you try everything in your power to bring Neteyam back to life, he gets everything he's ever wanted in Eywa.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

Word Count: 11,5k words

Warnings/notes (please proceed with caution, some of the topics might be sensitive/triggering): angst (lots and lots of angst), death, blood, violence, cursing, mildly suggestive content (18+, minors DNI), spoilers (!!) for ATWOW

A/N: i am sick and i am so so so sorry - IT HAD TO BE DONE OK?!

This was supposed to be the last chapter, but i quickly realised as i was writing it that there was no way I could reasonably end the series the way I wanted to this way - so two chapters it is. This took everything out of me honestly, but i put so much love and effort into this series, into the laws and the lore I have created, and I hope it comes across this way. I have spent an obscene amount of time trying to piece it all together, make everything consistent within the story I have already told, and I am proud of the way everything is shaping up. Now, this chapter WILL HURT and I am so sorry, but I PROMISE you all you will not be disappointed with the ending, and I will give EVERY character the ending they deserve, bc i love them all so much and they deserve to be happy.

Anyway, I'll stop rambling but i'd love to chat more about it and elaborate my thoughts and reasonings so let's chat in the replies/asks baby boys, gals and non-binary pals <3 ILY all so much xoxoxo

↳ *Spotify playlist* ༉‧₊˚✧

No words appear before me in the aftermath Salt streams out my eyes and into my ears Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness 'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

“Where are your sisters?”

Jake’s voice registered weakly in your ears, just like the muffled cries around you and Neytiri’s haunting wails. The tears that fell from your eyes were dried up and gone in the wind, like the rest of your being was. Empty. Soulless. Dead.

“YOUR SISTERS, WHERE ARE THEY?”

“I don’t know.”

Lo’ak’s voice sounded tired. So tired. You were all tired. Tired of this world, tired of the pain that never ever seemed to cease, that never ever wanted to relent. Your blurred dizzy vision moved to your hands, red and sticky, coated in Neteyam’s warm blood. You looked at Lo’ak, whose hands looked similar to yours. Fitting, you thought. His blood was on your hands. You were responsible for this. He wanted to leave. He wanted to get the fuck out of the ship, like you should have done. You made him come. And because of you, your dad was dead, your mate was dead. Your dad was a trained soldier, one of the best that has ever existed. Why in Eywa’s name would you ever think he needed you? If you hadn’t been there, they would have probably escaped the ship easier, quicker, and you would be all finishing the rest of the humans instead of trying to figure out how you were ever going to survive this, how you were supposed to exist in a world Neteyam didn’t, how you were going to make quick work of your damned, void soul.

Your mind went to the book, the book that you took with you to this new life as you carried it in your own, the book whose every memorable quote reminded you of him, that felt so appropriate now, all the words were swimming scattered through every crevice of your being.

“If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.”

“Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!”

“I have to remind myself to breathe -- almost to remind my heart to beat!”

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

“Nelly, I am Heathcliff - he's always, always in my mind - not as a pleasure, any more then I am always a pleasure to myself - but, as my own being.”

It truly seems you couldn’t stop ruining everything you touched. It seems no matter what body your mind was in, no matter whether in the forest or at sea, no matter a child or a full grown adult, no matter broken or seemingly healed, everything you touched just turned to ashes. Everything, everyone that dared to get close to you was bound to be lost in the abyss forever.

“WHERE ARE THEY?”

“They’re on the ship. They are tied up on the ship.”

“Yeah, they’re at the moon pool. Come on, I’ll show you.”

All the voices were distant, broken, like a messed up radio, you could only pick up words, only sounds that your brain was working hard to try to piece together. You didn’t know who was speaking, your every sense focused on Neteyam, on his eyes, still open, that will haunt you forever, for the rest of your measly, torn-apart life.

You noticed Jake come to you, taking you by the shoulders and shaking you. He did the same to Neytiri.

“Kid, come on. Let’s go. We gotta go.” When he saw how unresponsive you are, that your eyes barely looked more alive than your mate’s, that all you could muster was a barely visible shake of head, he let you go.

“Listen to me, listen to me.” He could barely speak, could be barely heard over the stirring, painful cries continuously escaping Neytiri’s mouth, yet another thing you will never be able to forget as long as you live. You have never heard anything like it, never thought it was possible for such sounds to escape another being, never thought a wordless evocation could say so much, could say everything words couldn’t.

“They have our daughters. They have our daughters. I need you with me. And I need you to be strong. Right now, strong heart. Strong heart.”

Silence enveloped the space around you, just like the darkness that came with the eclipse, and you were happy, happy for your mind to be able to focus on what it needed to, what it had to.

“Let’s go get our daughters.”

“You stay with your brother.”

“No, dad, I want to go with you.”

“You’ve done enough.”

“No, dad…”

Neteyam woke up dazed, lavender haze surrounding him until his vision finally focused, and he was able to see the periwinkle glow for what it was: bioluminescent flora. Different than the one he’s been forced to get used to the past few months - better. Because this beauty all around him was in a place he knew and loved so much, that will always be his favourite place in the world. Your clearing, back in the Omatikaya forest. How was he here? He couldn’t remember what happened, couldn’t remember a single thing from before a few seconds ago, but he took a moment to revel in being back home. He has not said it to anyone, not even you, but as much as he has enjoyed the reef, enjoyed the peace that came with being far away from humans, within the Metkayina clan, Neteyam deeply missed his home. He’s wanted to speak about it to you, but couldn’t - not when he knew how much you have also been struggling with it, how much you also missed this place, not when there was nothing to be done anyway. They couldn’t come back, as much was clear, while the humans hunted them so ferociously, while the clan could suffer as a consequence.

This place was slightly different than he remembered, Neteyam mused, and he realises it is because he has very rarely seen it after eclipse. You both usually came here during the day, as dangers hid in the shadow of the night, dangers he wouldn’t be willing to risk encountering, not with you around. He slowly, deliberately, enjoying every step, every sensation, every sound, made his way to the middle of the clearing, where the river trickled serenely, and he couldn’t help kneel next to it and put one hand in the water, palm against the current. He stood like this for a while, reminiscing about all the memories you have made here and how happy he was to be able to feel this again.

“Neteyam, wait uuup!”

“You have to be faster than that if you ever want to catch me!”

“I don’t want to catch you, I just want to catch up with you!”

Neteyam laughed at the tiny 8 year old girl with bouncing hair and starry eyes, ears pushed back and tails swinging rapidly from one side to the other in happiness at seeing her running towards him, a small pout on her pink lips and an annoyed figure on her face. The little boy kneeled to the ground and opened his much bigger arms wide and she ran straight into him, almost knocking him over at the force of the impact. He wondered if it hurt her. He was always worried about her, she was so so small.

“You caught me.”

“Woah! What is this place?”

Neteyam took in your awed, amazed expression and turned around slowly and was speechless at the beauty of this place, this little corner of Pandora that seemed untouched, that seemed no one else has ever set foot in it before you two.

“It’s heaven!!”

“What’s heaven?” You spoke English most of the time, although you knew Na’vi as well, but a lot of the words you spoke were new to Neteyam - he was a fast learner, though, and he loved it when you explained anything to him. It was better than when the scientists did, except auntie Jo. He loved auntie Jo.

“It’s where good people go after they die, at least that’s what mummy said about Earth people.”

Neteyam shook his head minutely. “No, people go with Eywa after they die! Everybody knows that!”

“So, maybe Heaven is where Eywa is?”

You both thought about it a long time, focused expressions on both your faces.

“That sounds about right! But why is it here?”

You thought about that for a while too. “I think Heaven looks different for different people. But this can be our heaven! Yours and mine!”

“Just you and me?”

“Just you and me.”

Neteyam liked the idea of that, that there would be a place for only you two, for the rest of time.

Neteyam’s attention shifted back from his own little world into this one, although it barely felt like anything changed, as two little kids ran straight into the clearing, a little human girl chasing a blue boy. Why was his mind making him see the same thing twice, why was this all so real, it was like it was taken from his imagination and placed into the physical world?

“Kalin, wait uuup! I’m smaller than you and I have tiny legs! You are being mean, brother!”

Kalin? Brother?

“Tsy, you’re the one that asked me to not go easy on you.”

“Well, that’s what mother told me to say. She said it’s called feminism.”

“What’s feminism?”

“What do I know? I’m six.”

Neteyam was taken aback at the interaction, and at these kids that he has never seen before, whose names didn’t sound familiar to him at all. And the little girl… there’s no other human children on Pandora, haven’t been since… well, you. Could they be new children the humans brought with them? But the scientists always said the reason Spider wasn’t sent back was because you cannot put babies in the contraptions humans used to travel. He sat there, unmoving, just taking it all in, studying these two children carefully, with intense curiosity. His eyes widened and mouth opened before he even realised, as he observed the girl more carefully. She was human… but she had white freckles, freckles like all the Na’vi did… and she had a queue. A queue…

Her hair was dark and thick, braided and ornate, with beads and feathers, and her eyes, they were yellow, like his, but the shape, just like the shape of her nose and mouth… she looked like you. The boy was taller and blue, like he was, but his eyes and nose looked… human, nothing like a Na’vi, and Neteyam was reminded a lot of Kiri, how she looked even more human than an Avatar. As he was laughing at his little sister, Neteyam saw the boy… Kalin, was it? He didn’t have fangs, either. His hair was long and wavy, a different colour than the rest of the Na’vi had, and he was wearing it down, flowing gently and glowing in the sun.

Neteyam’s heart was about to explode out of his chest as the realisation slowly hit him, and as he shifted a little towards them, struggling to keep himself steady on the ground, the sounds his body made attracted the attention of the two little beings in front of him, who both gasped loudly and smiled widely at his presence.

“DADDY! YOU’RE HERE!”

They both ran with all their might straight into his body, which - at the contact as well as the overwhelming feelings that enveloped him whole - fell straight to the ground with a loud thud, and which Kalin and Tsyeym started attacking mercilessly with tickles and kisses.

“WE MISSED YOU, DAD!”

No. No. No.

This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be the end.

You felt like you just woke up, like your brain rewired and restarted. What the fuck were you doing? You were a medic. You were a scientist. You had a fucking medical bag full of supplies and equipment and so much shit you worked so hard to learn to use, to bring here with you. And you were just going to let your mate die? Without even trying? No. No fucking way.

You got up from the ground, like the ground burned you, and ran to Neyn, where you picked up the large bag that always resided on her, and moved it next to Neteyam’s body. You pushed away the tears forming silently at his unmoving form, trying not to dwell on it too much. He’s just sleeping. He’s just sleeping. Your mate, your best friend and the love of your life, the man you hoped would be the father of your children one day, he’s just sleeping.

You searched the bag, hurried and crazed, and found the strips of gauze you were looking for. You removed them from their sterile wrappings and screamed at Tsireya, who was looking at you panicked, not understand what was happening. You cringed a little at her face, a crying, blubbering mess, and tried to push the thoughts out of your mind. He’s just sleeping. Just sleeping. You looked around for Lo’ak, or Jake, or anyone else, but they were all gone. Where was Lo’ak? Where did he go again? You needed him and he was gone. You growled loudly, but didn’t say anything else on the subject, turning your full attention to Tsireya.

“I need you to help me keep him upright for a while, I need to bandage his wounds. Can you do that?”

She was confused, the emotion very obvious on her face. “Y-yes, I can, but… but… he’s d-“

“Tsireya.” You hissed lowly, fangs barring menacingly. He was sleeping. Just sleeping. “Can you help me or not?”

She nodded furiously, and you knew she would help in any way she could. She was a good kid. She’ll make a good Tsa’hik one day.

“Alright.” You helped her bring his torso up, and you waited for her to rearrange so that she could keep his much larger body in the position you needed her to. You grabbed the large bandage and rolled it around his body, tying it as tightly as you possibly could, cursing under your breath that no one else was here, knowing that Jake could have tightened it better than you could. You needed as much pressure as possible, needed the wounds to stop bleeding. You were trying not to think about how much blood he’s already lost. All that mattered at the moment was that his heart started beating again. You were the same blood type, you could give him blood, but all the blood in the world wouldn’t do anything without a heart to pump it through his body.

Once you were happy with how wrapped his body was, you motioned for Tsireya to lay him back on the ground, which she did, slowly and carefully - which you appreciated. You straddled him, knees on either side of his abdomen and placed the heel of your hand over his chest. You placed your other hand on top of the first, and intertwined your fingers together, starting to pump his chest rhythmically, putting all your effort into it.

“Tsireya, I need you to look in the bag and find a red little case, like a basket. When you find it, bring it to me, fast.”

She took off immediately, ready and committed to do whatever it took to help. You continued the CPR, not stopping for a second, mind running a thousand miles a minute. The fight or flight finally overtook you, and you knew now you would do whatever it took to bring Neteyam back. Because you had to. Because there was no other option. Because you have both suffered enough. You deserved a soft epilogue. You were both good people, and you suffered enough.*

“Here it is!” She brought it next to you, flinging it from side to side in front of your face.

“Good. Now I need you to open it, you see that string? That’s called a zipper. Just pull on it and it should come apart in two.”

Once she did that, you saw the defibrillator come into view and you sighed a small breath of relief. You were exhausted, sweat dripping from your forehead and onto Neteyam’s chest.

“I need you to put this on him. I will walk you through it, I will tell you what to do, but you have to do it, do you understand me?”

She looked uncomfortably from side to side. “B-but, I.. you should do it.”

“I can’t do it, Tsireya. Please. I know this it strange to you, and new and unnatural, and I am sorry, but I need to do this. We need to do this.” You let out a pained cry. “I need to save him. I can save him.”

Your voice rang in the forest all around him, surrounding the meadow and filling his ears, hauntingly beautiful and serene, and he was overwhelmed at the voice, that he missed so much, that he felt like he was just hearing for the first time.

Where the North wind meets the sea

There's a river full of memory

Sleep, my darling, safe and sound

For in this river, all is found

Neteyam struggled to understand what was going on, but, as he was being tackled by the children that just called him dad, the children that bore a striking resemblance to both you and him, he allowed himself to be pushed to the ground and he felt his heart swell to twice its size at the feeling of warmth that enveloped him. As he tightened his arms around the little boy and girl, he realises he knows them. He knows them, has known them every moment of their lives. He has loved them every moment of their lives.

“Parultsyìp! (Children!)”

Memories flooded his being, of your beautiful body, now a bit bigger than he remembered, caressing your pregnant belly tenderly as he placed small kisses all over it; you laughed loudly as the action made you ticklish, and brought your hand to the back of his head, patting him gently, playing with his braids. Memories of Kalin being born, a strange sight, seeing the blue baby come out of his very human mate, but the happiest day of his life. Memories of Mo’at telling you you’re pregnant again, and the shock that overtook you both, then the immense joy that followed seeing his baby girl for the first time, so tiny and absolutely perfect. The first communion with Eywa, their pocket-sized queues connecting to the Spirit Tree, the whole tribe and the scientists, all there to celebrate the Olo’eyktan and Tsakarem, as well as their new happy family. Putting them to sleep every night, neither of them able to slumber without hearing your voice singing softly in their ears. The years passing, but not the passion and love you shared, still obsessed with each other, still going at it like crazed teenagers, like you did ever since you first mated. Images of Lo’ak being the best uncle, and Neteyam having panic attacks every time he would twist and throw his kids in the air like they were helicopter propellers. His mother and father both holding each one of the kids in their arms, cooing and rocking them softly, crying when Tsy wrapped her tiny hand around his mother’s pinky. Kalin’s first word, sweets, since that was what you always called him, and Tsyeym’s, fuck, curtesy of Lo’ak and Spider’s babysitting, which Neteyam prohibited afterwards, and although you tried to hide it - you found it a little funny. All of these things and more, 8 years of memories, of love and care, of adoration and awe, all overwhelming, all pulsating through Neteyam’s mind like electrical shocks, waking him like from a nightmare.

“Neteyam?”

When his amber eyes reopened, the kids were gone, much to his dismay, but he was comforted by the sight of you, his beautiful love, his beautiful light.

“Atan!”

Your human face looked scared, and confused, and sad, but Neteyam couldn’t care less, not when he felt like he hasn’t seen you in a lifetime, not when the only thing he wanted to do was kiss you, like Dean kissed Rory in that episode of Gilmore Girls you loved. He didn’t think twice about your size, about how in your human body, you were as tall as a Na’vi girl, how even in the forest, your face was unencumbered by the weight of your oxygen mask. He didn’t think of anything, because none of it matter outside of you, outside of you and him and the love you shared.

He ran to you, watching as every step made the ground glow in lustrous pastel colours and he smiled as he picked you up by your thighs and lifted you, pushing you to the tree your body was close to until your back hit it and you wrapped your legs around his hips. Your hands found his face and hair, like they always did, and your body melted into him, slowly relaxing, giving him a dazzling smile that took his breath away.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Atan.”

The kiss was everything he needed and more, more than he could ever dream in this life and the next and everything that came after. It was hot and needy and desperate, and you were clinging to each other like you never wanted to let go, and he’d be damned if he ever would again.

Tsireya took a look at your disheveled figure, putting all your effort into your chest compressions, and she nodded, determination overtaking any other emotion on her face.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Alright. In the pouch, there is the little device with a human drawn on it. You see that blue lever, just pull on it, until the cover comes off.”

She did as she was told, and let out an excited yelp when what you told her would happen, happened.

“I did it!”

“That’s great, Tsireya. Now, inside, there are two pieces of… paper… yes, that’s right. I need you to look at the drawing on them, and remove the yellow film that is on them, and put the white strips on Neteyam’s body, exactly how it shows you in the picture. Make sure you press them down properly.”

She manoeuvred around you so she can do what you told her, and eventually, the pads were on. It was up to the little contraption to do its job now. Neteyam’s life was in its tiny, inanimate hands.

“Neteyam, stop.”

“No, Atan, I can’t stop. I need you, I need you so badly.”

Neteyam felt you push him away, the same expression as earlier marring your beautiful face. You looked…scared.

“Neteyam, why are you here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Fuck… if you’re here… that means… Shit.”

Neteyam watched as you removed yourself from him, and no matter how disappointed, he helped put you back onto the ground. You put distance in between you, which Neteyam dreaded, and you were pacing around, seemingly out of your mind with worry.

“No… it can’t be.”

“What is going on, Atan? You’re scaring me.”

“Neteyam, you can’t be here. You have to go. What is the last thing you remember?”

Neteyam thought long and hard about it. Nothing… he couldn’t remember anything. He can remember moving to the Metkayina, and learning to swim. He can remember the beauty of the reef, he can remember you, hair blowing gracefully in the humid wind as you took to the new culture, he can remember a magical celebration where people danced and sang. That’s about it.

“I can’t remember much… I just woke up here, back home. I walked through the clearing and saw our kids. Our kids, Atan! They are so beautiful, they look so much like both of us. They look exactly like what I imagined them to ever since I fell in love with you! I can’t believe I’m back home, I can’t believe this is happening. I thought I’d never be back here.”

Your mouth fell slightly agape, looking somewhere behind him, and you looked like you were trying to process everything he was telling you.

“…Kids… Our kids… you saw our kids?”

“Yes, they were right there, laughing and chasing each other, just like we used to do, in the exact place we used to. It’s everything I have ever wanted, ever since the moment I knew how deeply and irrevocably in love with you I was, all I wanted was this. That moment right there, this moment right here.”

Neteyam saw your lips quiver, trembling trying to keep in the tears that were threatening to spill out. Your brows were furrowed and you were looking at him in disbelief, like nothing about this made sense, like what he was feeling was wrong, and Neteyam couldn’t understand. He was finally home. You finally guided him home.

You closed the distance in between you and pulled him into a hug, a tight hug that he immediately reciprocated.

“I love you so much. I have missed you so much.” You were sobbing in his chest now, hot tears trickling down his torso.

“But I need you to try to remember. You have to remember.”

Neteyam’s words caught in his throat as a loud boom almost knocked him to the ground, shaking the whole clearing, and he found it hard keeping upright. His first instinct, as it always was, was to shield you, so he grabbed your body in his and pushed you to the ground, towering over you with his body.

“What is happening?”

The world was losing focus around him, the edges of the clearing blurred and disappearing slowly from view.

“Atan, what is happening?”

You looked at him, eyes wide and he saw you shaking your head almost imperceptibly, biting on the inside of your lip aggressively. He brought his hand up to your face and caressed your lips softly with his thumb, tugging a little so you stopped hurting yourself.

“What is it, Atan? What can’t you tell me? Why am I here? Why are we here?”

“I’m here for you, Neteyam. You have to remember.”

Neteyam was trying so hard, thinking so hard whilst the world was seemingly falling apart around him, around you both, and the only thing he could think of, the only think he knew, is that he didn’t want to leave you. He didn’t want to leave the meadow, or the kids. He was home, finally. He could finally live.

“I will try to remember, Atan. I am not leaving you, I am not going anywhere. I will protect you and the kids. We’re never going to be apart again.”

You seemed pained at his words, but said no more as another quake shook the ground you were laying on.

You watched as Neteyam’s body jerked violently for a second time, with no response. The deep fear and anguish, the dark thoughts were slowly creeping up on you again, as your mate wasn’t coming back to life, and it seemed again all efforts, all your hope was easily being dragged out to sea, out into the abyss, along your sanity and future.

“Please, please fuck! Please, just work. Goddamn it!”

You continued CPR in between shocks, praying, begging Eywa for a chance. Please, Great Mother, you can’t do this. I’m begging you, please. Please!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

As you felt his heart beating in his chest again and heard it on the AED, you felt as if yours started beating again too. You stopped the chest compressions and moved your head close to his face, trying to see if he was breathing. A soft, subtle puff of air was being released from his nose every couple of seconds and you saw in shock as wet drips were falling on his beautiful, ethereal face.

Acid rain leaking from your eyes, pouring like tropical storms, never-ending, all-powerful and you couldn’t stop, couldn’t make them stop. You were wailing, crying harder than you ever have before as the man you loved came back from the dead, as his heartbeat was weak, but nevertheless present on your fingertips that were pushing against his throat, as your other hand went to his cheek that you caressed, trying to figure out if this was real, if he was really back. Your wails were so loud they were hurting your ears, but you couldn’t stop, you couldn’t make yourself stop, all you felt was enormous, earth-shattering grief, all the sorrow you suppressed flooding all of your senses, clouding your mind, pushing anything else down, melting it into the ground. The ache was coursing through your veins, poisoning every cell in your body until the was nothing left but this - it. You should be happy, you should be relieved, but as you watched the man you have known, you have loved every single day of your unpredictable, crazy, mercurial life, you realised how close he was, how close you were to losing him forever, to losing everything that kept you sane, kept you going.

You saw it all: washing his dead body, preparing him for the funeral, removing his bracelet, the bracelet that signified your love and your bond, the family dressed in mournful garbs, having to let him go, giving his body to the ocean, having to sing his songcord one last time, never being able to see him again, only having to settle for scraps, for a memory, or for a vision at the Spirit Tree. You saw yourself, a widow forever, never being able to move on, never being able to be happy, ever again, because he was happiness, and he was everything and he was gone. You saw your future - never having children, because if they weren’t his - what was the point? You saw his family, ruptured and torn apart by the loss of their son, their sibling, their hero, their best friend. You saw Lo’ak, carrying the guilt for the rest of his life, rebelling against his father, going on a dark path it was near impossible to turn him back from. You saw Neytiri, broken after another loss, the worst loss a mother could ever feel, never fully recovering, never truly being the same again. You saw Tuk and Kiri withdraw into themselves, the light they carried with them everywhere they went snuffed out at the calamitous loss. You saw it all and it killed you, it gutted you from the inside out.

But he was here. He was still here. Everything you saw, every nightmare your mind made you watch, laughing as you suffered, revelling in it, like it always was, it was just that - a nightmare. A parallel universe you never had to live through. Because he was here. He’s just sleeping.

You knew you didn’t have time to waste. You had to go back, you had to warm his body and clean his wounds, you had to remove any scraps the bullet left behind in his organs, you had to give him blood. There was still too much to do, and he needed you. You didn’t have time to fully fall apart just yet.

“Tsireya, we need to take him back to the village, we need to go, now. Just help me put him on Neyn, please.”

“I…I’ve never been on an Ikran before.”

If you weren’t so dazed and out-of-your-mind, you would have scoffed at that.

“Oh, I think you have, too.”

You didn’t have to look at the Metkayina girl to feel the embarrassment in her cheeks and her tail swish vigorously.

“I’ll make sure your parents know this is the first time, ok? I’m a great liar. Just please get on.”

Between the two of you, you managed to place Neteyam’s still unmoving, still unconscious body on your beautiful banshee, and you all got on, trying your best to cage his body so that he wouldn’t fall.

“I’ll tell her to go slow and steady, just hold on to her kuru (queue) and you’ll be fine.”

Ok, sweet girl. We have to get back. Please go gently. Hurry.

Neyn trilled in your direction, and you can tell she was worried and stressed through the bond. You didn’t know if it was just a mirror of your own mind or if she was feeling it too. Neyn loved Neteyam. He was always nice to her, and considerate and attentive. Neyn also loved Seze, and the thought of Seze being without her chosen Na’vi, being alone, the rest of her life, hurt Neyn. It hurt you, too. It hurt you so badly, in fact, your body was convulsing slightly, pain deep within your abdomen, that almost made your ikran lose her focus, and she wobbled a little midair, which made Tsireya scream.

“It’s alright, you’re ok. We’re ok.”

You rushed to your marui as soon as Neyn landed and you saw Seze make her way to you as well. Poor girl. You and Neteyam might not have a spirit brother like Lo’ak now did, but these two, they were it for you. You and Neteyam had a bond with your ikran that transcended time, space and species, and you would never be able to replace them, as long as you lived.

The first thing you needed was blood. He needed blood. You got out an empty blood bag and the tube, as well as a needle and syringe. You’d have to work fast, and you’d have to operate on him while the blood was being withdrawn, which will hurt, but you had to take the risk, he didn’t have much time.

“Tsireya, listen to me. I need to give Neteyam blood. My blood. I need you to take that little ribbon and tighten it around my arm, below my bracelet. It needs to be so tight it hurts, do you understand? When I tell you, you need to remove it. Then, as soon as I put the needle in and the blood starts flowing, we will need to clean him and I will patch him up, ok?”

Tsireya looked lost and trembling, her bottom lip quivering uncontrollably, but she nodded meekly, looking around at all the things she did not understand or know, deep panic on her features.

“Good girl.” As soon as she did what you asked, you found a vein and watched as deep, violent red liquid flowed softly from your body to the bag. The Metkayina girl gasped, but said nothing, just looking at the blood like in a trance, removing the tourniquet when you told her.

“It’s ok. This will help him. But we need to hurry. It takes about ten minutes for it to fill, maybe a bit longer since I will be using my arm at the same time.”

You got to work immediately, cleaning and disinfecting the area where he lay, prepping all of your tools and asking Tsireya to be your scrub nurse for the day. You cleaned his body, bloodied and bruised, trying to not focus on how it was making you nauseous, making your mind sick and dizzy with worry and pain, and you knew you shouldn’t be doing this. You were too emotionally involved to be the one doing this, but there was no one else. Not Norm, not Max. Not Claire, or Tim, no one else. You took the scalpel and made a cut into his skin, asking Tsireya to cauterise wherever she saw bleeds. She was naturally good at this, you noted and you smiled at this girl who has only known you and Neteyam for a few months and yet here she was, crying and shaking, doing everything in her power to save your family from harm. You knew Lo’ak was a big reason for it, but not the only reason. You really liked her.

You diligently removed all the shards and shrapnel the bullet left behind, and sutured every layer until his back was patched up. Somehow, the bullet missed his heart, and the main arteries, which you felt was Eywa’s doing. It had to be. Eywa wanted him to live, she had to. Because this wasn’t balance. Nothing about your lives has ever been balanced, and it would take a lot of good to equilibrate all the fucked up shit both you and him, your entire family has been through. So Neteyam had to live.

Once the blood bag was full, you removed the needle from your body and got up, realising quickly you shouldn’t be standing up, falling to the ground with a thud. Shit. You once again had to turn to Tsireya for help, and she managed to hang the bag somewhere above you, so that the liquid could flow freely into Neteyam’s body. You waited until you turned him chest up, and then inserted the needle, allowing the blood to move through his now beating heart. Your blood. Your blood ran through his body, through his heart. Your blood will save him, like your hands did, like your body had to. You were about to collapse after losing so much, but knowing you were the reason he was still here empowered you. It was just you and him. Just you and him, in this whole world, for the rest of time.

It was hard having to turn him upside down without disturbing him or hurting him further, but eventually you and Tsireya managed to, and you did the same procedure on his chest, until that was also completely closed and clean. Your hands were trembling, and your suture ruptured a few times in his body, and it took every ounce of self-restrain you had to not cry, not to collapse in a puddle on the floor, to not scream in agony, not ask the Universe what the hell could you have ever done to deserve going through all of this? Nobody should have to go through having to lose a dad and a mate in one day, no one should have to fight tooth and nail to keep them from crossing to the other side, to patch their brokenness, whilst yours flourished and bloomed like deadly nightshade. You had to endure more in 19 years than most people do in their lives, more grief embellished your being than there were beads adorning Na’vi bodies. You were feeling sorry for yourself, and for once in your life, you didn’t want to stop, you didn’t want to have to pull yourself back together, you didn’t want to be strong anymore. You were tired.

When you finished, you were spent, hours upon hours passing you by. You felt pain in your body everywhere, kicking at your insides like a monster waiting to crawl out of you with every push. You were cramping and the whole world turned around you, and you knew you were going to pass out from exhaustion. You went to your mat, anxiety enveloping you in knowing there was nothing else you could possibly do for Neteyam at the moment, and called for your turquoise friend.

“Tsireya, when…if… the family gets back, you tell them they need to call Norm and Max. Tell them they need to get here as soon as possible. I can’t do this by myself.” You felt the world dissolving before you as you spoke, and allowed it to fully dissipate away from view, embracing the feeling of nothingness, because nothing meant no pain, and no images of your dead mate, and your dead dad, and you were happy with that.

You woke up in a daze, faintly recognising the slur of voices blending together into one indistinctive blabber, that you tried with your whole might to decipher. You tried to open your eyes, but they were so heavy it felt like lifting weights back in the lab complex as a human. Eventually, your senses recovered and you were able to both see and hear the Sullys, as well as Norm and Max chatting to each other, huddled over Neteyam’s body.

“She’s awake!” Tuk’s voice startled you, and seeing her approaching you excitedly tugged at your heart. My Tuk-tuk…

“Oh, Great Mother, thank you! Ma ‘ite!” Neytiri crouched next to your limp body and hugged you, and you winced as every part of you she was touching hurt. You saw scratches and bruises all over your body from the battle, that you were too preoccupied to notice before.

“Sa’nok.” She sobbed in your chest, releasing all the anguish of thinking she has lost two kids in one night. “I’m ok, sa’nok. I’m here.”

“You saved him! You saved him, I thought we lost him! I thought I lost him!” Her cries were ringing painfully in your ear, the sadness in them close to tearing you apart.

“Is he…?”

Jake came over and kneeled next to you, tears in his own eyes. The whole family looked exhausted, spent, physically and mentally, and you counted them quickly, sighing deeply when you found them all to be here, in the tent.

“He’s still asleep, kid. What happened?”

“I should ask you the same thing.”

You moved next to Neteyam, holding his hand, just needing to feel him, and his now much stronger pulse, and spent the next while explaining everything you have had to do and watched as their mouths got progressively more agape in shock. Then they watched yours do the same as Jake told you what happened on the ship.

“He’s dead, kid. He’s finally dead. Whatever else happens, at least Quaritch will never haunt this family ever again.”

Your eyes immediately moved to Spider, and you felt a tinge of sadness for the boy who also had to lose his father, just like you have. No matter what, no matter what atrocities this man committed, you knew better than most than the love doesn’t go away, it runs deep and the water of an underwater cavern, hidden from view and light, but there, nevertheless. You were surprised, though, when upon looking at him, you saw him shifting uncomfortably, looking everywhere but you and your family, picking at his cuticles. It was a bad habit you shared, but one that gave away nervousness, anxiety - guilt. What the hell did you do, Spider?

“How long have I been out?”

“About a day?”

You turned to Max and Norm, who were dutifully listening to everything, and you could tell how overwhelming it all was to them, how crazy and mind numbing and revolting. But it was life, your life. Your life.

“How is he?”

All of the attention shifted back onto Neteyam, who looked like he was resting. He looked… happy. Peaceful. You hoped whatever he was going through, it was better than this abusive reality, and you hope he could finally rest, until he was ready to come back to you.

“He’s in a coma, Ace.” You gasped a little, and another stabbing pain shot through you. “Look here.” He rose the portable EEG he had in his hands and scanned Neteyam’s brain from a distance.

Your breath stopped as you took in the information on the screen.

“He’s in a hypoxic-ischaemic coma.”

“W-what does that mean?”

You gulped loudly before you answered Jake.

“It means that his brain didn’t have enough oxygen after his heart stopped.” What you didn’t want to tell him is how few people actually come back from that, and come back the same way they left. You exchanged a look with Norm and saw the imperceptible head shake he gave in your direction, and once again, felt pain stabbing you everywhere in your body.

“B-but he’ll be alright, no? He’ll wake up and it’ll be alright?”

You lied to yourself as much as to them. “Yes. Yes, he’ll be alright.”

Neteyam woke up startled, deep nightmares still fresh in his mind, nightmares of a battle, of a ship, of blood dripping over him and on the floor, pain shooting through him ceaselessly. Images of his mother screaming that haunted him, images of your forlorn face as the last thing on his mind before it all ended. He breathed a sigh of relief as he took in the familiar beauty of your meadow and took in the two small bodies resting against his own, nuzzled in his chest. He was ok. Everything was ok. He was home, his kids were safe. The voice humming peacefully blessed his ears, and he knew then that you were also safe. It was just a nightmare.

He quietly untangled himself from his kids’ grasps, that ended up cuddling each other back to sleep, paying little mind to their dad. He took in the sight that swelled his heart so much he felt it was going to explode out of his chest. He has never been happier. He couldn’t imagine life getting any better.

“I didn’t know if you’d come back.” Your voice was soft and angelic, like it always was, but your words confused him.

“What do you mean? Where else would I go?”

You sighed, but patted the spot next to you so he could join you. You looked over at the two little beings sleeping peacefully a few feet from you.

“So these are our kids, huh?”

Further confusion enwrapped Neteyam like a quilt. He didn’t understand most words that were coming out of your mouth.

“So you want two kids? Not three? I always thought you wanted a whole football team.” You say almost to yourself, laughing a little with your hand brought to your mouth in amusement.

“Atan, what is going on? I don’t understand what you are saying. You’re acting like you don’t know our kids.”

You smiled a little in his direction, a sorrowful smile, but as you brought your hand up to his face and caressed his cheek in the way you always did, in the way that calmed his mind and set his skin ablaze, all the worry left him.

“They’re beautiful. So beautiful. Perfect mix of you and me. You know, I used to think about our kids, think about the impossible scenario that you and me could bring life into this crazy world, but they’re so much better than my imagination ever was. Pure and good, unlike the world they’ll never get to see.”

Neteyam didn’t have time to question you, not when the little bundles of joy in question rose sleepily and tackled you both, squeals and happy screams filling up the forest.

“Mummy! Daddy! You’re both here! We missed you, mum!”

“Did you, now?” Neteyam looked at you, and you looked like you were struggling to adjust to the new development, like you were trying to thread the ground and the situation carefully. You looked…uncomfortable. Why were you uncomfortable around your own children? Neteyam’s seen you with Tuk a million times, you were great with children. He couldn’t help the seed of doubt and fear that was growing in his belly, making him nervous. What was going on?

“Let’s swim, all of us! We haven’t swam together in a long time!” Tsyeym pushed to her feet and grabbed you both with all her might, trying to will you towards the river. He watched as you relented, and eventually got up, grabbing her on the way and bringing her up into your arms.

“Wait a second. Let me have a look at you.” You analysed the little girl, your little girl, every feature and freckle on her face. You poked her small nose with your index finger and traced it on her face, on her perfect pink plush lips and her yellow eyes, to her braided hair. You gently grabbed her queue and laughed a little as Tsyeym shrieked - it tickled her. “So you’re my little baby girl? You are the most beautiful thing in the world, aren’t you?” You turned to Neteyam, and he noticed you holding back tears. You looked happy. “She has my eyes. My mother’s eyes.”

Neteyam nodded, confusion still gnawing at him. “Of course she does. Your eyes are the most incredible things I have ever seen in my life. They are like treasures - my treasures.”

“Just like she is.” You held her against your chest and Neteyam watched as his daughter made a home out of it, so stuck to you he didn’t think he could ever separate you again.

“Tsyeym (treasure). That should be her name.”

“Atan… that is her name.”

“And what about this mighty warrior?” Kalin ran to his mother, grabbing onto your leg and holding on, attaching himself to you much like Tsyeym did. You kneeled, with Tsy still in your arms, and did a similar inspection of his son as you just did a few minutes ago. You took him by the hand and twirled him around, taking in every aspect of his being. “Look at this hair! My hair. Tsyeym has your hair, but he has mine. And look at those stripes, just like mummy and daddy, like a little tiger. Come here.” You kissed his entire face, starting with his nose and all around, ending with his human-coloured eyes and the top of his head.

“Why do you taste so sweet? You’re a sweetie pie, aren’t you? You’re mine, my sweet.”

You looked up at Neteyam, like you just had the most brilliant idea. “Kalin!! His name has to be Kalin (Sweet to the taste)!”

Why did you keep doing that? Those were their names, their names you gave them at birth. He was going to ask you what the hell was going on with you, when a loud sound boomed in the sky. It sounded like thunder, but not quite. It must have been thunder, what else could it be? The kids screaming got his undivided attention, and he rushed to their side to comfort them both, grabbing Kalin is his arms and holding him while he saw you doing the same with your baby girl.

“Shh, it’s alright. It’s alright, we’re alright.”

“What was that?”

“My love, you need to remember. Please. I’m here for you.”

“I know you are, Atan. I just don’t know what you want me to remember. Can you please tell me?”

“I can’t, Neteyam. You have to figure it out yourself. You have to try harder. We don't have a lot of time. Please. I am here for you.”

The river adventure removed the anxiety rising in Neteyam’s chest, and he concluded the boom he heard was just particularly nasty thunder. Thunderstorms were not uncommon in the forest, and the sooner his babies got used to them and realised they were nothing to be afraid of - the better. There was no reason to let it come between them and the perfect day they were having. After a couple hours, you were all soaked, so much laughter and joy Neteyam’s mouth hurt from how much it was stretching to accommodate the unwavering smile refusing to leave his face. Eventually, his family was all too tired to go on, and you all stretched on the grass, huddled together, arms and legs intertwined so thoroughly, it was impossible to tell who was who anymore.

“Mummy, can you sing for us? It’s nap time!”

“Is it nap time already? Sure, sweets. I can sing.”

In her waters, deep and true

Lie the answers and a path for you

Dive down deep into her sound

But not too far or you'll be drowned

“Neteyam…” you were hunched over your mate’s body, alone with just him, alone at last to pour your soul out and hope he would hear you, hope there was a chance. You had to try.

“Neteyam… please. I know you are in pain, and I know how much this life takes and takes from you. I know you’re probably at peace wherever you are, but you can’t leave me. I can’t do this without you. I know it’s selfish, so selfish, but I need you to please come back to me. I love you so much, and I’m trying so hard, but you have to come back. I can’t live knowing all I’ll ever get is scraps of you, scraps of us. Not after everything we’ve been through. Not after I’ve seen the future, so clear and bright in my head. Not after knowing everything I’ll lose if I lose you.”

You walked to the edge of the platform and sat down next to your favourite two scientists, that you were so happy to see, and so sad it was always under such undesirable circumstances.

“How is he?”

“Pretty much the same.” You dunked your feet in the water with a sigh, looking at the way the fish swam in between them, some of them tickling you as they went past.

“How are you? We didn’t even get to give you a check and make sure everything’s alright. You gave him a lot of blood.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I did what I had to do.”

“You saved his life, Ace. He was dead and you brought him back to life. You did it.”

“Maybe. Maybe I just revived his heart so he could be a vegetable for the rest of time. Maybe all I did is prolong the inevitable and give his family false hope.”

“Don’t say that. He’ll wake up.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed annoyed in Max’s direction.

“Come on, Max. We’re all scientists here. What are the chances someone comes back from hypoxic-ischaemic coma? Roughly 70% of people die. And of the 30% that make it, most of them have severe brain damage, that impacts most aspects of their lives.”

“That’s human statistics, Ace. Human statistics have no business here on Pandora. You know that. You of all people should know that. You died. You were without oxygen for 30 minutes, and you came back, after chatting to your mum in the afterlife and her telling you the cure for a deadly virus. You should have faith, Ace. Faith in yourself, in Neteyam…faith in Eywa.”

You couldn’t take another word on the subject, not when you were so close to fully breaking down in front of them, so you chose another - easier to digest, if not as hard to talk about.

“Did Jake and Neytiri go get my dad?”

“Yes. They all went. They should be back soon.”

“Lo’ak said you… went to save him. What happened?”

“He… he’s not who I thought he was. Not who I spent my whole life hating. I was wrong about him. I was so wrong.”

You told them everything that happened after he left you the message, and they listened attentively and gasped softly at every turn of events.

“I… I couldn’t save him. He bled out in front of me. I will never get a chance to make it right. He’ll never get a chance to make it right. I wanted him to stay. I thought we could finally be a family. I thought I could allow him to finally have a daughter, a daughter that stays, a daughter that he got to watch live. I wanted him to be a grandpa. I imagined him teaching my kids about Earth, babysitting when Neteyam and I wanted time for ourselves. I don’t know why, but I feel like he would have been the best grandpa. He saved us, he saved me. He was redeeming himself, he could have been one of the people. We were supposed to be a family. I was supposed to have a family.”

You didn’t even realise you were crying until Norm reached over and wiped the tears off your face with his thumb. They didn’t have anything to say. There was nothing, no comforting words, no words of encouragement that would ever mend this, that would ever make this less painful than it was.

Your attention shifted onto the Tsurak that flew above water, a burst of orange in a sea of blue. Behind it were a couple of ilu and in the air, Neytiri’s ikran was flying majestically.

Jake reached your marui first, followed closely by the rest of the Sullys. You got up to help him unload your dad’s body, wrapped beautifully in mangrove leaves and colourful shroud and placed on a stretcher made out of woven tree branches.

He was hidden from you, but it didn’t matter - your imagination was more than enough to paint him right in front of your mind’s eye, bloated and bloodied, wet and dirty from having been left on a rock for 2 days. You just left him there. By himself. You passed out and left your own dad to rot, the same way he did the first time - alone. Your mind was torturing you, the way it always loved to, and you knew this image would be tattooed in your brain, alongside that of Neteyam’s eyes going vacant as you watched, for as long as you lived. No matter how much you healed, no matter how much old nightmares faded, there were always new ones to take their place, new nightmares to show you you will never outrun your trauma. Not now, not soon, not for the rest of your life.

“We talked to Tonowari and Ronal, baby girl. We explained, we told them what Lo’ak and Spider told us, about how your dad fought alongside us, how he saved your lives, and he will be allowed a Metkayina funeral. This way he will be with Eywa.”

Your tears that never ceased multiplied, and you couldn’t help the sob that escaped your lips.

“Thank you.” You ran into Jake’s arms and he hugged you tightly, stroking your hair gently in a comforting gesture. “Thank you so much. Thank you.”

“Of course, kid. Your dad was a good man, and he deserves to be with your mother again.”

You brought him to the Tsahik’s tent, and watched as they undid all the wrappings, until he was in view, and although not as bad as you imagined, he didn’t look good. You knew decomposition worked faster in water than on land, but you never thought you’d have to witness it first hand, and definitely not with your dad.

“Go, kid. We can clean him up.”

You shook your head, not removing your eyes from his body. You left him there, you had to do this.

You knelt on the ground next to him, and Ronal guided you through the required steps and rituals, until he was ready, a few hours later. He looked a lot better when you were done, and you smiled softly, allowing the salty tears to stain your mouth. He looked peaceful. You didn’t think he felt peace in his whole life, so you were at least grateful he could experience it now.

“We will do the funeral ceremony tonight. We will take him to the Cove of the Ancestors after Eclipse.”

Another stabbing pain shot through you, and you wondered how much longer your body would keep going under this amount of strenuous stress. How long until all this heartbreak broke your body down beyond repair?

You returned to your tent, getting ready for the ceremony, allowing your family to paint you in funeral markings, allowing them to dress you in ceremonial garbs, an ornate shawl covering your shoulders - all while you were holding Tuk in your lap. You were cold, you noted absentmindedly. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt cold, but there is was - shivers, like ice water in your veins, running down your spine, extending to each extremity, making a home in your bones.

You needed Neteyam. You needed him to be here, you needed him to be your light, to guide you through this time, to hold you and keep you warm as you had to give your dad to the sea, and say goodbye - forever. But he didn’t budge from his spot on the mat, breathing in and out deeply and regularly. He’s just sleeping. Just sleeping.

Neteyam was cold as he woke up from another horrible dream, a similar dream, a deathly dream he couldn’t shake from his mind no matter how much he tried. He kept being pulled in and out of consciousness, it seemed, and he wondered meekly if anything was wrong. Some things felt wrong. Just a little wrong. He took a look at you, buried in his arms, sleeping peacefully next to him, and gasped as your face brought back another dream, so vivid and lucid, it was like it wasn’t a dream at all, like it was a… a memory.

As much as he missed home, Neteyam had to admit little managed to beat waking up in this marui, where the sun was shining through the intricate web of fabrics, creating colourful moving patterns and where the salty air cleared his nose immediately and woke him up with newfound enthusiasm for a new day of discovering all the new ways this place differed from his own. His entire family was fast asleep, and he sighed contently when he felt your breath tickling his neck and your arms and legs draped loosely across his body. He couldn’t help the excited movement of his tail taking you in, knowing he got to wake up next to you every day, that he’d never have to live without this feeling ever again, that he got to call you his mate, his light… his. For life. He kissed the top of you head and watched as you stirred, waking up from your slumber with a haphazard stretch of all your limbs. When your amber eyes met his and your tired smile made its way to your lips, his heart stopped. You were so beautiful.

“Good morning, my love. Did anyone ever tell you it’s ok to not wake up at the crack ass of dawn?”

He smiled, trying to keep quiet so as to not disturb the rest of his family.

“I’m too excited to see you to sleep, Atan.”

You rolled your eyes at him, letting out an amused scoff. He rolled on top of you, pinning you down with his body. You gasped at the feeling of his hard-on rubbing against your core and he smiled at the way your pupils immediately dilated and your breath shallowed, rolling your hips to meet his.

“Atan, it’s the crack ass of dawn, what are you doing?”

“You started it.”

“You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“Hey, I have had to live for years wanting you and not being able to have you. You have a lot to make up for.”

He laughed again and laughed some more when you pressed your hand tightly against his mouth as his mother turned slightly in her sleep.

“How about we go for a swim, just you and me? Then I’ll make it up to you for as long as you like.”

You raised your head slightly to close the gap in between you and the kiss brought life into him, brought light into every corner of his being until there was nothing left of him but this feeling, the feeling of you overtaking his every sense.

He was panting as the dream faded, panic overtaking him. What was that? It felt so real. So raw. Not a dream. A memory. Your amber eyes, your blue striped skin. He looked at the version of you sleeping in his arms, human, the same human he’s known all his life, the human he fell in love with. The skin he traced with his eyes, the freckles adorning it that Neteyam knew by heart, your hair that flowed softly down your back and tickled his arm where it touched it. Your eyes that were your mother’s, the thing you loved most about yourself - that he loved most about you. The body you left behind when you did your consciousness transfer.

How were you here? In his arms? How was it possible?

“My love, you need to remember. Please. I’m here for you.”

Remember what? What couldn’t he remember? Why couldn’t he remember?

“Ace, come here. Look at this.” You were about to leave for your dad’s funeral when Norm pulled you aside, showing you the EEG scanning Neteyam’s brain waves. “Look at it.”

You did and your eyes widened as your brain processed what it was seeing. “He’s… seizing?”

“Those are ictal epileptiform discharges. He’s definitely seizing.”

“But his body is still.”

“Not all seizures manifest the same way. There are non-motor seizures, as well. But the waves don’t lie, Ace. He’s seizing. And we can’t know for sure, because we didn’t see Kiri’s brain when she seized, but I think it’s the same kind of seizures. She had interictal activity in her prefrontal when we got to her.”

Your brain felt like it was short-circuiting taking in all of the information and trying to process it, at the same time as dealing with the horrible pain shooting through you and the heartbreak of having to bury your dad without your mate by your side. The world was fading around you, but you knew you had to push through, at least until the end of the ceremony.

If Neteyam’s seizures were the same as Kiri’s, maybe the coma was a lot more than what they thought, than what you thought. Maybe it has something to do with Eywa. Could it be? That he was trapped, just like your mum had been? Could it be that you could find him? Finally see him again? That you could get him back?

Your body quickly caught up to you as the pain became unbearable, and you screamed loudly without meaning to as you felt cramping in your abdomen, like life was being torn away from you with every second passing. The marui and everyone around it quickly disappeared from view, and you felt yourself collapse to the ground and into deep slumber. Maybe you could finally rest.

You woke up confused and numb. The world slowly came back into focus, as did your family members going in between you and Neteyam, unable to figure out who they should worry for at any current moment. You glanced at your arm and then above you, and said a silent prayer of gratitude for Norm and Max, who decided to give you some morphine for the pain. As Lo’ak took note of your cognisance, he let out a scream that came out more like a pained yelp.

“She’s awake. She’s awake.”

Jake rushed to your side and took your face in both his hands, alarmingly checking on you, eyes darting over every piece of you they could cover. Then a look of deep sorrow replaced his previous one, and you felt the panic rise in you once more, not enough morphine in the world to keep the ugly feeling at bay.

“What happened?” Was Neteyam ok? Was everyone ok? What else could possibly be wrong? It didn’t feel like there was anything in this world that could make this whole ordeal somehow worse.

“You… You passed out, kid.”

Norm’s body was trailing all around you, checking on your vitals and on the other IV you know realised were flowing into your body from various sites.

“Just please tell me. You’re looking at me like you have something to tell me, and I just need to know. Please. I just need to know.”

“I’m so sorry, baby girl. I’m so, so sorry.”

Your entire family encircled you, holding onto you, your arms, your hands, your legs. Looking at you sorrowfully, mournfully, and you felt like you were one sentence away from passing out again.

Max spoke. “The stress… everything you went through the past couple of days, it put a lot of strain on your body. A lot more than it could take.”

“Honey… you had a miscarriage.”

You were wrong, you thought as you felt the consciousness slip away from your grasp once more. There was one thing in this world that could make this whole ordeal somehow worse.

Taglist (thank you ily x) @changing7 @erenjaegerwifee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @winchestertitties @puffb4ll @rebeccao03 @ultimatebluff @cottoncandy23 @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @n3t3y4msm4t3 @loquatious-josephi-krakousky @eternallyvenus @fresh-new-yoik-watah @lu-the-ghost-reader @@miawastakens @mm0thie @fanboyluvr @amortencjja @lovekeeho @trixscarlett

*poem by Nikki Ursula - Seventy Years of Sleep #4

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lostonehero · 2 months

Text

Ok fuck cannon for both series mech tma au

Also mech Martin as a treat

"W-wait." Jonny stopped holding up his hand before Nastya could set the dimension hop.

"The great Jonny d'Ville stuttering? Never thought I would see the day." Nastya rolls her eyes. "What's wrong? You want to get Martin, right?"

"I..." Jonny sighs and looks at Tim and then back to the rest of the crew and eventually Nastya. He fishes out a pair of glasses from his pocket.

"Smarts Jonny." Ivy raised her brow.

Jonny sighs and crosses his arms. "Tim and I have other versions of ourselves in that universe."

"So?" Raphaella quirks her brow. "Extra parts to experiment with."

"Not exactly." Jonny takes a breath. "Any universe or reality doesn't like copies and to remedy that well... we won't be able to stay here." He starts to motion his hands as his tail starts to lash back and forth. "The reality has a way to correct this, and that is to physically fuse myself with my alter, and the same will happen to Tim. I literally have no idea what that will even do."

Brian tilts his head. "So what you're saying that that there is a chance you'll both dissapear?"

"Not exactly, but kind of." Jonny shrugs, removing his glasses. "Eh, it's whatever just wanted to warn you fucks. Tim and I agreed to go through it. We all were already fucked around with the promise of actual death and waking up before, and who knows Martin's world goes through a literal apocalypse so that will be fun."

Tim nods. "We both have bets going on about how it works. I also get to go to a less advanced version of where I'm from. I really want to see what's that like. Also, I saved Bertie, and he got a long life, so I'm honestly fine with a true death."

Raphaella looks at both of them. "If both of you truly die, can I do an autopsy of your bodies to see what came over?"

"Why the fuck not? I don't give a shit I'll be dead." Jonny hums and raises a brow at Ashes. "What?"

"You'll be human." Ashes motions vaguely to his obvious status as not human.

"Huh." Jonny scratches his stubble. "I'll miss my tail if I remember any of it."

Tim snickers. "I'll be fine."

Ivy smirks. "What if your alternate has short hair?" She pauses. "Also, I want earth books."

"I have a new fear." Tim sighs.

Nastya pauses. "Are you sure?"

TS smiles. "I Think They Already Agreed. Bring Me Back A Earth Cat."

"You heard them let's fucking go." Jonny reached out and grabs Tim's hand. "I ain't living for the rest of time without Blackwood."

"Neither I am." Tim nods. "All speed ahead."

Nastya sighs. "This is a terrible idea, but if both of you still remain, I suppose stopping the apocalypse would please Aurora..... oh hmmmm." She puts the ship full throttle, and in an instant, Jonny and Tim vanish.

......

Martin woke up on his back, which honestly is the weirdest way he could wake up second to the alarm on his... he knew the word for the thing, but he couldn't recall it. He barely fumbled to turn off that obnoxious noise. What was a much more pressing manner was the fact his body was wrong, well correct but that was wrong. He can't recall when he had normal legs and feet... he could, but he would much rather forget the time before the good doctor got her hands on him. He was abnormal for a mechanism since his mechanism was organic in nature his lower half was that of a spider. Of course, he didn't hate it he wanted something different after that.

Ok, at the time, he thought himself a monster and tried to kill himself a multitude of times. He grew out of it. Obviously, it would have been a bleak eternity otherwise. He had a vague feeling of where he was, but the word peaches and worms came to mind. He kind of knew what that meant, but he was more so annoyed that this afterlife was basically before he became a mech. He had to figure out what he was doing.

Maybe if he went too... uh oh right the Magnus Institute, that's when he worked a normal job on earth. This was earth he hoped it wasn't in his head that this was some elaborate death dream because that would be a first. He should try to recall more of this if he is ever going to get through this weird afterlife. He hoped it was an afterlife because if not it meant that he wasn't dead, and he didn't want to do that without Jonny and Gunpowder Tim, and of course, the rest of the crew.

He got showered after figuring out the old-fashioned shower and got dressed in familiar clothes he didn't want to remember. He knew he had to remember, but he really didn't want to. He knew how this world worked. Public transport was easy, and soon, he arrived at the very institute that set everything in motion. What's that saying like a hover bike? Or a bicycle? He will remember what to do and go through the motions.

"You're late." A pretentious pompous voice sneered at Martin.

Martin paused, staring at the man studying him, and he reminded him of Jonny, and a name spilled from his lips. "Jon?"

"Did you hit your head on your way here? Of course I'm Jon." The short man shoved a stack of papers in his arms. "Get through these and try not to fall behind."

Martin frowns and takes the stack of statements. He knew they were statements. Some real some fake, and he had an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach that this wasn't the afterlife. He sat at his desk and stared at a computer, which he didn't recall the password for, and just started to read. He couldn't think about who he saw by him.

"Geez Marto, you ok?" That was Tim, not gunpowder, but Stoker. He was rubbing his eyes, but it was still him.

Martin knew the moment he saw her not corrupted by a thing that wore her skin poorly he might add he knew he wasn't in the afterlife and his death was a fucking lie. He wanted his final death with the rest of them. Did they also wake up before they became? Before the doctor got a hold of them? He takes a breath and sighs. "I'm fine." He forced himself to say. He noticed Tim was bleeding around his eyes. He chose to get up and wet some napkins to help.

"Tim, you really should see a doctor for that." Sasha frowns.

"I'm fine it's probably from my contacts. I'll wear my glasses, and the problem should clear up." Tim gives finger guns as his eyes water.

Martin sighs. "Tim, you're crying."

"Not emotionally." Tim snickers at his joke. "I'm fine. I probably just need rest and to get new contacts." His eyes stop watering after a moment, but it doesn't stop him from rubbing them like they ached.

Martin wasn't convinced, but he knew better than to push it normally got him shot or someone crying in his arms. He knew that didn't matter here. This place wasn't.... he wasn't home. "I'll make some tea for everyone."

"Thank you, Martin." Tim smiles as he rubs his eyes.

"Amazing as always." Sasha smiles.

Martin nodded and distracted himself with making tea. It didn't last long enough as he gave out the tea. He stepped into Jon's office, and he raised a brow at the scene he walked into. Jon was sitting on his knees in a chair not built for that position. "I made you some tea."

Jon nods, rubbing at his chest. "Right."

Martin paused and decided to push his luck. "Why are you sitting like that?"

Jon scowls and takes his mug of tea, and takes a sip. "My lower back aches, and it is worse if I sit normally. My painkillers haven't kicked in."

"Ah, alright, just be careful, alright." Martin smiles, hoping he was acting enough like he did before.

.....

Tim groans as he stares at the bottle of eye drops the doctor gave him. It did literally nothing. His eyes ached and burned, and no matter what he did, the pain wouldn't go away. It's been two weeks, and it's only gotten worse, and he hasn't been able to do anything to relieve it.

He used the heels of his hand and pressed them into his eyes for any sort of relief that wouldn't come. Doctors couldn't find anything wrong and called him basically crazy because there was nothing wrong with his eyes. He knew something was wrong. He knew something was happening.

Tim was desperate. If the eye pain wasn't enough, he was starting to have weird dreams of a man with mechanical eyes. They would talk, and Gunpowder, the other guy picked that name. Don't ask him why it suited him. The memories... no dreams, he keeps having to correct himself. The dreams Gunpowder tells him are his memories, and he apologizes for them all the time. At one point, these memories became his own, but the only thing it did was make Gunpowder more solid in his mind.

Tim liked Gunpowder he was kind and a bit odd, but he didn't feel alone. He hasn't felt seen or known since his brother. Fuck he really missed Danny.

"You have his memories."

Tim nearly fell backward. That was Gunpowder, but he was awake if the pain was anything to say about that. His eyes scanned the small bathroom, searching for the source of the voice, but he didn't see anything. Maybe he was hearing things. The statements were probably getting to him.

Tim sighs and shuts the lights off, and heads to the couch. He just needed to sleep, that's all. Sleep came quickly these days, and he woke up not in Gunpowder's memories but to a futuristic bedroom. He knew this place from some more steamy memories from Gunpowder. Speaking of him, he was lounging in the bed holding a bottle that no longer had labels.

Gunpowder flicked his mechanical eyes to glance at Tim. His long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and a pair of goggles was around his neck. He held up the bottle. "Shit doesn't do much in here but wants some?"

Tim shook his head as he approached and sat on the edge of the bed. "Did you say something?"

"When you started to spiral? Yeah." Gunpowder sits up, putting the bottle aside. "I'm not as well versed in this theoretical nonesense as Jonny is, but I think it's almost complete." He reached his hand out, and Tim allowed him to grab it. "Soon we'll be together awake and asleep, probably when my eyes finally form. Again, sorry about the pain."

"I don't think I'm able to believe you." Tim had that sinking feeling of dread that he knew Gunpowder was right. "Why?"

"We wanted to save our third to complete us." Gunpowder pulls his hand away. "Eternity isn't great when you're missing someone that helps complete you. We were also promised an apocalypse, and that did sound fun."

"Love is a good reason." Tim wanted to reach out again but refrained. "So would you be able to take over like a ghost?"

Gunpowder laughs. "I ain't no ghost, but maybe again, Jonny knows more about this bullshit than I do."

Tim nods and gets up approaching the door.

"Are you sure?"

"If what you say is true, I might as well know more about you." Tim opened the door and vanished into memories that weren't his own.

Gunpowder picked the bottle up again and sighed. "I wonder if Jonny is having a good time."

.....

Jon felt even worse, he however did not go to the doctor even at Martin insistent, he was acting odd more so than normal, and it made his work even worse. He stripped off his shirt and pants, then finally his binder and groans. The red spot on his lower back right on his tailbone he could pass off as bug bite, now ballooned into a throbbing red mass that was completely solid to the touch.

He really wanted to keep ignoring it, but he felt something move under his skin, and it scared him half to death. Every part of him felt wrong, to his privates they were extra sensitive more so then when he started T to his ears that were bright red and painful, to his head that he can feel growing bumps on his head. The worst of it was his chest, his heart was constantly beating erratically, and he could swear he heard a ticking like a metronome in his chest. Everything was wrong, and yet he just crawled into his bed.

No to Jon, the worst part were these dreams that were nothing but fiction, and this Jonny character was a idiot, a violent obnoxious idiot. Jonny talked to him. He purposely argued with him and teased him. That ass was crude and didn't have a fucking care in the world the complete opposite of himself. He was some vile creature that probably spawned from the statements he read.

Jon bit down on his pillow, he moved wrong, and his sensitive privates sent nerves and sparks through his body. He was asexual he shouldn't have these desires, and he shouldn't be thinking about his coworkers in this matter. Why the fuck was Martin a spider creature it scared him but also thrilled him and he hated these thoughts. Tim was mostly the same, but his hair was long, and his eyes were machines. He blamed Jonny for all of this. But he wasn't real his mind just wanted someone to blame.

That obnoxious crazed laughter rang in Jon's ears. He groaned, spitting out his pillow. "Leave me alone, you annoying hallucination." That only earned him harder laughter. He gave a frustrated yell into his pillow. He refused to listen to the just jerk off from Jonny and grabbed sleeping pills from his draw, and hoped for a dreamless sleep, which he knew was futile. He kept seeing memories that weren't his of some nonesense syfy fan wet dream. Jonny wasn't real, and what he saw wasn't real either.

.......

Sasha moved closer to Tim. "Eyes still bothering you?" She motions to his the dark sunglasses you couldn't see his eyes through.

Tim nods. "Yeah, doctors aren't helping. They feel like they're going to pop." He sighs. "Do you know what's up with boss man?"

Sasha shrugs. "I was going to ask about Martin. He seems more lost than normal, and he seems less jumpy but even more depressed? I don't know he keeps avoiding me every time I try to press."

"I can talk to him if you talk to Jon about his attitude. I watched him yell at Martin first 10 minutes, and Martin just took it with a smile like he didn't care." Tim frowns, rubbing his eyes his vision was getting blurry, and he could feel something wet drip down from his face.

"Eye drops first, you're crying again, and it's not clear." Sasha hands him a tissue. "I'll go talk to Jon."

"You're the best, Sasha." Tim smiles and rushes off to the bathroom. He barely makes it inside when his vision goes dark. He can only whimper in shock as fresh pain blooms where his eyes should be. A wet substance drips down his cheeks, and he barely registers hands on his shoulder, guiding him to sit on the ground.

Soft hands carefully remove the black glasses and a soft curse on his lips from a voice Tim knows, but he can't focus or see who said that. He could feel a wet cloth wipe whatever was on his face.

"Tim, you gotta breathe." That was Gunpowder. He sounded so clear, like he was right next to him. "I know it hurts, but you have to let the machines build themselves. It's actually really neat to watch."

The soft hands were done cleaning his face as he let out a sigh at the loss of touch. And a flash of light burned, and then he heard a soft click like that of a camera and a softer moving of machines like a soft roll. His vision came back way too fast, and suddenly, it was too perfect, and he saw too much. He saw a familiar sweater connected to a man leaning over him. "M-martin?" Of course it was Martin his hands were soft... he didn't know why he thought of them like a cat's paw.

"Blackwood!" Gunpowder gasps.

Martin takes the spoiled hand towel and puts it in his back pocket. "Tim, can you focus on me?"

The soft whirl of machines and Tim was looking at Martin. "What happened?" He could see the hand towel and had a few theories on what the stains were.

Martin smiles softly, and Tim feels calmer.

"Feels safe into the den of the spider." Gunpowder hums. "Do you mind if I just uh..."

Tim barely registered what happened until he was in the spot where Gunpowder was. He saw his body move without him, and he just watched unable to process until it clicked what had happened. "Oh." He watches Martin tilt his head as Gunpowder looks up at him, then he feels a stinging pain as Martin hits them.

Gunpowder holds his cheek and looks to Tim, realizing they both felt it.

Martin takes a breath. "You didn't heed any of my warnings."

Gunpowder smiles staring up at Martin.

Martin falters, and he moves and sits down next to him on the bathroom floor. "Is...?"

"Yeah, Tim's here." Gunpowder hums. "Don't think he made the connection yet."

"That is a given." Martin pulls his knees up. "I haven't.... yaknow, and I'm worried when I do..."

"You won't be able to hide." Gunpowder nods and reaches out to Martin. "Aha, he made the connection."

Martin smiles softly, interlocking his fingers with Tim. "Yeah, a lot of shit happened. Welcome to the madness of it."

"Oh, we're well past madness and circled back round to sanity." Gunpowder chuckles, taking the glasses back. "Talk later?"

Martin nods and watches Tim return to his body. "Are you ok?"

Tim blinks. Well, he thinks he blinks, but he's pretty sure he doesn't have eyelids anymore. "I uh... I think so." He paused. "So where's the spider parts? Don't tell me my shared memories and adult fantasies are a lie."

Martin chuckles. "Oh, you're both horrible. Ask Gunpowder, you ass." He gets up and holds out his hand. "Come on, we have to get back to work before Jon throws another fit."

Tim nods, getting up with Martin's help. "Seriously though, where are the spider bits?"

"I don't actually know, and I don't want to test dying to see if they come back." Martin sighs.

"Ah, fair enough." Tim continues to hold Martin's hand. "I uh...you know what happens..."

Martin frowns. "Tim, for me, it's been well over a few thousand years. My memory isn't perfect. I remember what my mind thinks are the important bits, but I've really tried to forget this happened. The ending isn't a good one." He sighs. "We can talk after work, in the tunnels."

"Tunnels?" Tim raised his brow following Martin, never unlocking their hands.

......

Martin pulled Tim back as emts rushed out with a stretcher. "Who got hurt?"

Sasha rushed over. "I went to check on Jon, and he... he was bleeding, and he was barely breathing. I called the ambulance, and they rushed him to the hospital."

Tim frowns. "Is he ok?"

"I don't know." Sasha gives a soft gasp as Martin pulls her into a hug.

"Hey, you did the right thing. Jon will be fine." Martin smiles softly. "We can visit him after our shift. I'm sure he wouldn't mind visitors."

Sasha hugs him back. "You're right. You're right. He probably knew something was wrong and refused to see a doctor."

Tim sighs. "That does sound like Jon." He paused for a moment. "I, uh yeah, back to work."

Sasha nods, wiping her eyes and pulling away from Martin. "I'm sure he'll appreciate a cleaner archive when he gets back."

Martin nods. "Of course, that sounds great." He grabs Tim's arm. "Tim and I can grab some boxies and start moving things around."

"Oh, that's great." Sasha smiles, watching them leave.

.....

"Why did you grab me?" Tim raised his brow.

"So I think I know what happened to Jon." Martin frowns.

Tim paused, and his demeanor changed, and he sags his shoulders. "Oh, this is not going to be good."

"No, it's not." Martin sighs. "Fuck everything has changed now."

"So, did we do it?" Gunpowder raised his brow.

Martin snickers. "Yeah, not even close. We both know that gods won't take this lying down even if it's Jonny."

"Eh, worth a shot." Gunpowder shrugs. "Blackwood has told me enough to know what Jon ends up as I'll explain later."

.....

Elias adjusts his tie and smiles, looking over his archivist. The unfortunate nature of the Flesh and Stranger working together does have this outcome. Of course, he can pull all the strings needed to have this little incident swept under the rug and tied in a neat bow. He smiles softly, watching him wake up. "Are you alright, Jonathan? You've given us all quite the scare." He stops seeing a scowl that isn't Jon's normal one on his lips.

Jonny's mouth felt like it was full of cotton, and his head was fuzzy, and Jon's nagging didn't exactly help him either. His gaze moved up to the man in a suit. He looked like a prick, an obnoxious wealthy prick. Jon was yelling at him that's his boss and don't fuck this up. Of course he wouldn't fuck this up he knew how to act proper and can copy Jon's boring ass. If he could just focus.

"Jonathan, are you alright? You may have hit your head on the way down. You're on some painkillers." Elias smiles, leaning over him.

Jonny furrows his brows. He hated painkillers and always took the fun out of pain and violence. "...fuzzy..." He managed to mumble. His tolerance to painkillers was null and void due to his affection for actual pain. Couldn't he just get Jon's tolerance and not just the fun new parts to explore. He scowls again at the man above his bed, he wanted to rip that smile off his face.

Elias chuckles softly. "Painkillers will do that, and you're not even on that heavy of a dose. I'm sure your coworkers will be visiting you soon. Hopefully, you'll feel better by then."

Jonny grits his teeth. He had a few choice words for that pompous ass.

"You can't kill him." Jon looked drowsy floating next to him.

At least Jonny wasn't the only one suffering in this cushioned hell. He huffs and turns his head.

Jon chuckles. "Don't be mad. You've got control." He was very out of it. He felt the same effects Jonny was. "What's.... what is uh...." He blinks, unable to form a coherent thought.

Jonny huffs and can't fight the feeling of sleep overtaking him.

......

"So Gunpowder Tim cut a bloody path...." Jonny stops, noticing that his head finally felt clear enough and reciting old ballads of his friends wasn't needed. He looked down at Jon, who was staring at him. He floated down to lay next to Jon. "What's with that look? I already explained our situation to you at nauseum."

Jon scowls, looking away. He then makes a vague motion, unable to explain why he suddenly felt wrong.

Jonny raised his brow. "You've got my dick. Ain't you special."

Jon scoffs, but his face is turning red because he feels that is true. "No..." He huffs.

Jonny paused, watching Jon get frustrated. He didn't feel like sharing in that. He learned early in that they shared emotions, and he had to get used to feeling things that weren't his own. It was honestly worse than Nastya, making him feel Aurora emotions. "I can tell you."

Jon felt himself be pushed out from his body as Jonny took control. He scowls but sighs, watching and feeling Jonny's own emotions. "So? What's wrong with m- us?"

Jonny scowls. "They cut off my fucking tail! It's a fucking bitch to grow that back." He raised his ands and feels around his forehead. "Good, they didn't cut them too short. Actually, I like them short, so this isn't an issue... I'm narrating for you Jon be grateful."

Jon raised his brow. "You can't hear my thoughts?"

"Can you hear mine?" Jonny spits back.

"Fair point." Jon sighs. "Are we ok?"

"Fuck if I know. Everything is new, raw, and sensitive. My dicks never been this fucked before." Jonny growls as he is forced back out by Jon.

"D-Dont do that." Jon pulls the blanket over his body.

Jonny shrugs, not understanding Jon. "Whatever, we just have to adjust." He pauses for a moment, pointing at Jon. "This is earth, right?"

"Yes?" Jon raised his brow.

"Tim and Blackwood always referred to me as a cowboy. What's a cow? I don't think I've ever seen an earth cow."

Jon blinks. "But you have parts like a bull."

"Wait, I thought it was called cows." Jonny returned a confused look.

Jon shakes his head. "Alien, right, you're an alien. You don't know human er earth animals. Cows don't have sharp teeth like you, but uh, bulls are basically male cows, but cows are the general term used."

"Can I see what they look like?" Jonny floated to lay next to Jon.

"Yeah, when I get my phone." Jon paused. "Are you upset I wasn't born a man?"

"Why would I care? You've got my dick now, and I have a new hole to play with. This is a win for me." Jonny shrugs and raised his brow feeling relief pour from Jon.

"Thank you." Jon says quietly.

"Ok?" Jonny shrugs floating to look around the hospital room.

......

Sasha slams on the breaks. "Tim what the fuck."

Tim's eyes clicked and whirled. He was told only he could hear this by Gunpowder. Well, both can hear since they share a body. He reaches for his glasses and realizes he took them off because his ears were bothering him. He could feel the look from Gunpowder and Martin on him. "It's a long story."

Sasha rocketed to a spot to park, and she twisted her body to the back seat. "Tim explain now!"

Martin bites his lip and blurts out. "It's my fault. I'm supposed to be dead, both me and Gunpowder. Promised an end to eternity, and it was a farce and I'm back here like this, and I really tried to forget about this part of my life. I mean for fucks sake you die and get replaced Sasha and none of us notice for a year because of how it worked. Tim dies in an explosion, destroying the circus, and that isn't to mention the fucked up paranoia from Jon and extreme levels of fucked up creatures that I mean now I can look back at and laugh but you can't you're mortal. I mean, these are fear gods, so I mean they will get to you eventually."

Gunpowder grabs Martin's hand. "Martin, that's enough. The only reason Jonny knew about my past was because he was playing soldier and was with me. You don't have to..." He stops as Martin waves him off.

"No, it's fine. Tim and Sasha deserve to know." Martin sighs. "I'll tell you what I can remember it has been a few thousand years since I've been through this."

.....

Sasha swallows. "I believe you."

Martin blinks. "Why?"

"I've had a bad feeling, and I knew Gertrude didn't just go missing." Sasha then points to Tim. "Also look at his fucking eyes Martin that's pretty good evidence."

Gunpowder nods.

Martin gives a nervous smile. "I'm sorry I've gotten used to things over the years. I like Tim's eyes."

"Yeah, yeah, don't boast his ego." Sasha puts her seat belt back on. "So keep your glasses on Tim. We're going to visit Jon if the same thing happened to him like you."

"It's equally as possible. Jon worked himself into a delusional state and just hurt himself." Martin shrugs.

Tim blinks back in control. "That's really dark."

"No, no, Martin has a point." Sasha starts the car again. "Remember that incident in research."

"I tried to forget, but I see your point." Tim sighs, putting his glasses back on.

Martin sighs. "Hopefully that isn't the case."

.....

Jon shifted uncomfortably as he sat up. Jonny wasn't lying. The tail thing was incredibly uncomfortable and annoying. He stared at the hospital food in front of him and was told he couldn't leave till tomorrow. He hated hospital food, and he hated hospitals.

"Stop pouting." Jonny rolls his eyes. "I can feel your emotions and pouting won't get you nowhere."

"Oh, then what can I do? Please enlighten me." Jon scowls taking a bite of his peas.

"For one, actually eat. How the fuck are you in such shit condition? Do you even know what fun is?" Jonny shook his head. "You can't do shit without meat on your bones, and you look half starved. You're a fucking disaster."

Jon continues to scowl, not saying a word.

The door opens to his room.

"Blackwood!" Jonny floats through him, trying to tackle him. "Fuck."

Martin smiles softly as Tim and Sasha follow behind him. "We wanted to make sure you're ok."

"You gave me a scare, Jon." Sasha crosses her arms. "You need to learn how to take a break, or at least see a doctor."

Tim was odd wearing sunglasses that completely hid his eyes, but he knew Tim was having trouble with his eyes. "You look awful."

Jon can't help but give a soft smile. "Just wasn't paying attention and hit my head." He motions to the bandages around his head and ears.

"Don't lie to Blackwood. That man can see through any lie you spit." Jonny crosses his arms. "Besides, I bet you control of my choosing that Gunpowder is in your Tim."

Jon ignores him. "Ah you didn't have to bring me anything."

Martin smiles softly as he pulls out a chocolate slice of cake. "It's just some chocolate cake. I mean, you don't have to have it..." He stops as Jon's demeanor changes in an instant as he pushes his food aside.

Jon was forced out and watched Jonny make grabby hands.

"Give it here, Blackwood." Jonny huffs. "Don't you fucking tempt me."

Martin's expression changed, and Jon could feel a shiver down his back. "You and your sweet tooth." He tisks, placing the slice down.

Jonny grabs the container. "Fuck you." He huffs and has enough decency to use a fork. "Your fucking lucky I have to fix this body or I would end you."

Jon watches Tim snicker. "You lost height!" His snickers turn to giggles.

"Piss off." Jonny scoffs.

Sasha raised her brow. "How did you know the cake would work?"

"d'Ville only has one craving he can't quit, and it ain't cigarettes." Gunpowder smirks, taking off his glasses, revealing his mechanical eyes.

Jonny scowls. "Oh fuck you. I don't deny myself pleasures like you."

"I have manners you lack." Tim spits back.

Martin chuckles and has a glint in his eyes and a sinister smile that again Jon can't tear his eyes from. "Now, both of you, that's enough." He moves closer and leans over Jonny. "How about you behave and finish all of your food, and maybe I'll convince the doctors to let you leave early?"

Jon can feel the tug, no the crashing wave of desire, and just pure love spill from Jonny, and if they had his tail, it would be wagging like a dog.

Jonny, for his part, nods eagerly. "It would be faster if you fed me." He purrs back.

Martin steps back. "Don't push your luck. I'm mad at you."

In a split second, that emotion was gone, replaced with annoyance. Jon had to shake his head from the whiplash.

"We agreed!" Jonny huffs stuffing his face with food. "It's not like you were there with your bleeding heart. You weren't there, I woke up after that bar in that... look, I'm not having this conversation."

Jon could feel a bubble of an emotion, one that he knew should leave unspoken. He remains quiet watching Martin.

Martin gaze didn't break, let alone change. He crosses his arms. "Did you do the same?"

Jonny swallows his final bite. "I can't say I wanted to change it, so I didn't."

Martin's gaze seems to finally soften. "Good, he didn't deserve forgiveness." He reached out and pat Jonny's shoulder. "That's my cowboy." He pauses. "What's with the frown?"

"They cut off my tail." Jonny sounded honest and small.

Jon was taken aback.

"I never said humanity was a kind species." Martin brushes a stray piece of hair out of Jonny's face. "It will grow back."

"Not the point." Jonny sighs. "How's your former mortal." His gaze shifted to Tim.

"Probably better than yours with the adjustment." Gunpowder slides his glasses back on. "You look like shit."

"Not my fault." Jonny mutters.

"Never said it was." Gunpowder muses. "Maybe you shouldn't have asked Martin for his story."

Martin rolls his eyes. "Just because you're bitter doesn't mean you get to drag me into this argument again." He walks by Sasha, grabbing her arm. "Would you like to hear more while they complain?"

Sasha nods. "Sure, why not." She follows Martin out of the room as he shuts the door behind him.

Gunpowder frowns. "Don't give me that look. I already got an earful from him, and to be fair, he warned both of us to wait. Now, why do you think this didn't happen the first time?"

"Aren't you just full of dumb questions." Jonny adjusts his glasses. "They were already dead and gone by the time we crossed the first time. This place was fine. I dunno Blackwood said it's been. I dunno fifty years since it ended and started again." He raised his brow at something Tim couldn't see. "You do know what apocalypse means, right? Right well that happened, and you died before I came here the first time."

Gunpowder waves his hand. "Jonny, stop, we both know what happened in the end. They don't know the full truth yet, neither of them."

Jonny frowns and stares at Tim. "How long do you think it will take till being the good guy gets old?"

"Who knows? We've never tried it." Gunpowder shrugs. "You should hold off on being honest about this world, as much as I know you like your stories and songs. Unless you want to deal with Jon."

Jonny waves him off. "Whatever, it doesn't matter now he'll learn as I will annoyingly to see his memories. Just let me figure this out, and as much as I hate to see you two on good terms compared to my situation. Just wait."

For what, Jon had no idea, but this Gunpodwer did, who nodded.

"Seriously though, figure something out with this Jon. You seriously look worse than when we were starving, as a competition." Gunpowder sighs. "Blackwood..." He looks through the door. "Yeah, he already convinced the doctors and nurses to let you go, and they are on their way. Enjoy your new home, alone." He smirks as he leaves.

Jon was flung back into his body, feeling Jonny fuming, but the other man was uncharacteristic silent. He had to think this over and what this actually meant. So he died the first time, but when and how? Before or after the apocalypse?

.......

He wasn't truly alone, not anymore. Jon sunk into his bed and opened his phone. "How did Martin even convince them to let me leave?"

"He's got a way of trapping people making them do what he wants." Jonny hums. "Now, show me a picture of a cow."

Jon wanted to press, but he quickly learned pleasing Jonny was the best way to get answers. He pulled up a picture of a cow and a bull and held it up.

Jonny was quiet studying the creatures he saw. He broke into a wide grin. "They look cute, don't they. Good cows."

Jon hums and sighs. "You said Martin told you what happens to this world. What happens? Why did he become one of you? What are you guys?"

Jonny frowns. "I rather not feel your stupid emotions." He scratches behind his ear. "You won't let this go. However, Blackwood warned me you were insistent, so I might as well spin you a tale." Suddenly, a harmonica appeared in his hands. "A tragic fate of star-crossed lovers doomed by forces beyond their control, and a man turned to a monster that was left in the ruins."

Jon listened to the haunting story on a soft melody. He learned how his coworkers, no his friends, died. How he roamed the wastelands the fears as the apocalypse he caused reigned, how Martin stayed by his side even though he caused this by being tricked. The story ended in a sharp blade.

Jonny stopped. "And you were no more as the pancoption crumbled the archive now, just a man taking his final breath. An ending driven by a man afraid of death and so willing to please a god who didn't care for him as nothing more than a tool. Blackwood crushed but was not dead. A familiar doctor just happened to be passing by the rubble. She wanted to try something new, just not machines anymore, something animalistic, something new. And so Blackwood became a monster a first of his kind." He stretches. "Immortality such a boring goal, isn't it? You would think you would want something more interesting."

Jon was speechless he couldn't string together thoughts.

Jonny frowns, feeling the rush of emotions. "Look..." He swallows and feels tears drip down his face. He was frustrated that he couldn't stop this. He hated emotions, and he hated being honest to himself, but Jon still viewed himself as mortal, and he won't be raw without his partners. He floated down beside Jon and let him cry. He couldn't stop it. The rush of emotions overwhelmed him.

Jon finally spoke. "How do I stop it?"

"Fuck if I know. I wasn't here. I heard the story from Blackwood." Jonny was purposely looking away from him. "You have to ask him, but we promised to play the good guys this time around, or well, until it gets boring."

"We're going to stop this." Jon tried to muster confidence he didn't have.

Jonny just sighs. "Go to bed. Watch some of my memories. If you don't start trying to fix your body, I will do it by force."

Jon pulls his blanket up and frowns. He falls into an unsteady sleep.

......

Elias raised his brow, watching his archivist return to work. "Jonathan, I did tell you to take time to rest after yesterday." He had a smile and a silver tongue.

Jonny scoffs. "He's worse sober."

Jon smiles nervously. "I'm fine, Elias." He adjusts his hat covering his new sensitive ears. His tail had already started to grow back, and Jonny said it's a side effect of immortality, which Jon didn't believe in. It's supposed to be much longer than a cow's tail and semi prehensile. He wanted to test it but knew better than to try anything in public.

Elias frowns. "Now, Jon, I don't need you working yourself sick again." He knew the effects of the stranger and the flesh it probably hasn't hit the man yet, and he didn't want him breaking down having him explain the truth.

Jon frowns. "I'm fine, Elias. I know how to take care of myself. I'm going to get back to work."

Elias frowns, crossing his arms and watching Jon rush off to the archives . He raises his brow, and seeing the start of a tail, he is informed that it is cut off. It shouldn't be growing back this fast. He had a few connections to pull to get more information. He had no desire to pick another archivist nor start again.

......

"We should kill him." Jonny floats next to Jon, his tail lazily flicking behind him.

"Elias is my boss. I'm not going to kill him." Jon scowls as he hears Tim snickers. "Tim, that's enough."

Tim hums, Jon can see his hair is curling and is getting lighter than the black he has. "I don't think so, bossman. We think it's quite hilarious Jonny's on a leash."

Jon was pushed out as Jonny took control. "Oh go fuck yourself you fucking cunt." Jonny stomps off to Jon's office making it a point to slam the door.

Martin snickers from the entrance and refrains from explaining Elias can see them. Oh, that would be hilarious. Does he know Jon and Jonny are sharing a body, or does he think that the fears changed Jon? Either way, things have changed, and he wants to see Elias... no Jonah squirm with the unpredictability. Martin will force him to realize immortality is not worth it, and death is a gift. He silently walks to his desk and takes a seat.

"Enjoying the show?" Tim smirks. "We are."

"Oh, I'm enjoying something else." Martin smiles back.

"Already knitting a web, I see." Gunpowder nods. "I always enjoy the finished project."

Martin taps his fingers against his desk. "You know I think it's not a Web I rather not get mixed up with that particular fear I think I can recall the avatar is kind of a right bitch."

"Really? You have to explain the fear thing better because some of them just sound fun or fun to kill." Gunpowder smirks.

"Later, and Sasha already made a list." Martin points to Sasha sipping her coffee.

"You two share a body. Did you not pay attention when Tim was reading it?" Sasha raised her brow.

Tim huffs. "I couldn't figure out how to turn off the Xray vision on these damn eyes until like an hour before I slept." He had a slight blush on his cheeks. "Then the damn things wouldn't stop focusing on objects miles away."

Gunpowder took back control. "To be fair, I still have trouble controlling them. Human biology and mechanical parts tend to fight until they get into a rhythm. Also, I have like a million years of experience, and Tim does not."

Sasha frowns. "That sounds actually awful. Does Jonny have these problems?"

Gunpowder shrugs. "He never complains, and if he dislikes something, he's quite vocal. I think he uses the ticking as a metronome."

Martin nods. "As boney as he is, he's very nice to sleep too. The ticking is quite soothing." He sighs. "Granted, I won't be able to enjoy any of that for a long while, I reckon."

"Shit, I remembered that this isn't a desert planet." Gunpowder pauses. "Jonnys going to be a little bitch."

"Why?" Sasha raised her brow.

"Jonny's originally from a mostly desert planet, so his tail ears and horns were basically made to keep him cool. Even the nights were hot, so he doesn't exactly have any defenses against the cold, and he makes his complaints known as Gunpowder said." Martin hums. "Although he loves the snow and rain."

"We never said the man made sense." Gunpowder shrugs, letting Tim back in control.

Sasha tilts her head. "What was the planet like that you're from?"

"Gunpowder is from the earth of a different dimension." Tim taps his pen against his desk and adjusts his glasses. "He did however blow up the moon."

"Now you're just fucking with me." Sasha rolls her eyes and heads back to her desk.

Martin chuckles. "Don't feel bad about it. In this time, we've barely had any people on the moon."

"See, I told you!" Tim huffs. "He wouldn't listen to me or the facts I provided."

"Tim, you have to understand where we're coming from. We lived on a spaceship." Martin hums heading to his desk to start working.

Tim sighs. "Still annoying."

.....

Martin stares at the bloody fingernails in the sink. He knew his luck was running out. His body wasn't going to wait till his first death. He could feel how tight his skin felt and how it was hard to walk to breathe. He wasn't scared to become what he was supposed to be, but it would make this so much harder. He flexed his hand, seeing the black claw nails start to poke through his flesh. He doesn't truly care he made peace ages ago with what the doctor made him.

Elias watched Martin with a curious gaze. He can feel the Beholder use his eyes to watch intently. He had a feeling in his gut something changed something twisted in the mere fabric of reality. He hasn't even checked on Jon since he arrived this morning, and the Beholder agreed that something more interesting was happening. Martin was unassuming and predictable, but this was new, and he wanted to know why. He wasn't an avatar, and that also fueled his curiosity. How is he changing without one of the fears?

Martin rubbed his eyes and sighed. He had time, and he had time to prepare. He wanted Jonny. He just wanted that soft ticking, Gunpowder could soothe his anxieties, but Jonny was a comfort. Sure, the man was brash rude and a devil, but he was his, and that was enough. Gunpowder wouldn't touch him till Tim was fully on board with him, and Martin respected that. Hell he was fucking happy with that. Jonny, however, was a mystery, Jon was tighter lipped, and he knew how long it took for Jon to even understand his emotions, let alone actually relie on others.

Martin gathered his fingernails from the sink and threw them out with a sigh. Maybe he could go to artifact storage to slow things. Well, that has just a likely chance to kill him. He doesn't care. Maybe he could convince Gunpowder and Tim to head to the tunnels properly. He finished washing his hands, not even flinching at the exposed nerves.

Elias's gaze intensified as he watched Tim enter the bathroom. More importantly, he removed his sunglasses, revealing new eyes. When did he get surgery? More importantly, how can he still see? He shut his eyes, and he was seeing from Tim's eyes.

Tim scratched his chin. "Martin, you alright?"

Elias saw a man in the mirror that wasn't Tim.

Martin sighs. "I'm fine." He stretches. "Just a bit achey, what about you?"

"I'm fine." Tim crosses his arms. "Ok, maybe not entirely fine, but I'm getting used to it."

The man in the mirror that wasn't Tim spoke and Elias could hear him.

"I know my scars aren't pretty, and I'm sorry." The not Tim sighs.

Tim shook his head. "Dude, I said it's fine." He turns back to Martin. "I'm more peeved about the hair than I am about the scars, and I still haven't agreed to grow it out."

Not Tim huffs.

Martin chuckles. "The two colors look good together, and if you don't grow it out, what else am I supposed to grab?"

Tim swallows, and Elias sees him in the mirror, and he figured it out that this not Tim was in control.

"Oh, don't tease the man. He doesn't understand the fun a simple act can do. Let alone one with those..." Not Tim stops staring at Martin's hand. "When?"

Martin huffs. "Gunpowder, it's fine. You know how you can't hide what the good doctor does to you. I'm fine. I just feel a bit stiff and uncomfortable, but it will pass."

Not Tim or Gunpowder, ridiculous name if you asked Elias. He smiles softly.

"Fuck the waiting, from what I've seen its going to be brutal and he shouldn't be alone..." Tim was speaking out loud now. "He shouldn't have to go through this by him....self... ah, you ass."

Martin raised his brow with a soft smile. "I appreciate the offer, Tim, but you're not exactly desensitized enough for my liking."

Tim huffs. "Then Gunpowder will watch and be out. You don't deserve to be alone through this. I know you have an issue with that, I uh well, Gunpowder knows, and I saw the memory."

"Fine, if you insist." Martin paused, and Elias shivers with that look. "I've shared things with Gunpowder in secret. I don't want you to share with anyone." He grabs Tim's shirt. "Understand?"

Tim swallows and nods.

Martin smiles again as his features soften. "Good, I'll come by your flat tonight."

Tim watches Martin leave with a shudder. Elias doesn't leave yet.

"I warned you about being caught in Blackwood's web. You're not close enough with him to get comfortable." Gunpowder clicks his tongue. "He's not the man you knew, so please don't underestimate him. I would rather not die before Jonny does. We've got a bet going on."

Tim swallows and slides the dark sunglasses back on, and Elias is shocked to see his vision didn't change in the slightest. "He's still a good person."

"That's... well, none of us are good." Gunpowder responds dryly. "It comes with the territory."

Tim didn't like that answer, but he remained quiet as Elias came back to himself. He had a lot to think about.

......

"At least you know how to tell a story." Jonny responds with a bored tone. "These statements still suck, I still suggest we burn the entire place down."

Jon scowls. "No." He stretches and pulls out the used tape. "Can you think of anything that doesn't involve violence.... or sex." He gives a glare.

"Now you're just plain boring." Jonny raised his brow. "Being serious all the time must be fucking exhausting."

Jon sputters. "Just because I'm not some guy who thinks he's immortal and some sex pest doesn't mean anything."

"I don't care what you think of me." Jonny stares directly at Jon. "We are stuck together for the rest of time, and whatever comes after."

Jon scowls. "I won't devolve to be on your level."

Jonny rolls his eyes. "I don't care."

Jon huffs and leaves his office.

"Jon, you ok?" Sasha smiles softly.

Jon stops and sighs. "I'm fine, just getting used to an unfortunate roommate."

"That's one way to call it." Tim mutters.

"You two should try getting along." Sasha hums. "You'll be stuck together forever, I guess. I think it would suck if you two were stuck together fighting for all of that."

Jon scowls. "Oh, he's a right ass only cares about violence and sex. He's nothing but a pest, and I abhor the fact that I have to share my own body with him."

"Oh piss off." Jonny huffs.

Gunpowder sighs. "His attitude comes with his age. He is the oldest of us besides the doctor, but we don't know about her, though, really." He kicks his feet up. "Jonny, I know you're listening. You should be cautious he's going to see memories that you've forgotten. Funny how the mind works even if we forget they still exist in there, just waiting for a trigger to pull them free."

Jon expected Jonny to kick him out and take control, but he felt fear grip his heart that no longer beat. He swallows the dread that wasn't his and doesn't look at Jonny. "I will keep that in mind for when I sleep."

The conversation dies as Jon leaves as the day has ended, and he doesn't want to linger.

.......

The rusty hinges creaked on the old shack the teen called a home. He made sure he tipped off his shoes before entering, and he saw his father passed out in a drunken stupor. He carefully made his way to the small kitchen connected to the living room. If you would call it, that and stumbled upon a note.

"Jonny boy, I've left to clean up after your father. He pissed off some old doctor at the edge of town. I've left old Bessie for you to make sure she's in better condition when I get back, boy. Now, if I don't come back, I know you won't end up like your father. You're too smart for that. Use your ears to find a target to shoot. We both know your eyes aren't the best use that good hearing of yours. Don't file your horns too short boy they grow for a reason, and I love you forever and always."

Wrapped in leather by the note was a familair old looking revolver, the name Bessie was carved crudely into the handle. The weight would become familair in the teen's hands. He took the note scowled at his father and then headed off to hunt for dinner since that lazy piece of shit won't do anything but gamble.

Jon woke up with a start. He could feel a rush of emotions that weren't his. "I..."

"Don't say a fucking word." Jonny scowls. "Don't go telling nobody about that."

Jon nodded he paused, squinting at the clock that glowed, showing it was 3am. He sighs. "I don't remember my mother, or my father, with died at different times, but I was too young to remember them. My grandmother raised me, bitter she had to raise another child. Never told me that directly, however."

Jonny braces himself and grits his teeth. "I don't remember what my mom looks like either."

"Then we have that in common. Maybe the next dream will be my memory, and you can pick apart that." Jon sighs and curls under his blanket.

Jonny nods. "Just go back to sleep."

......

Martin grits his teeth and groans in pure agony. He could barely register the hand going through his red curls. His legs hurt, and he couldn't move them. His skin felt like it was on fire, and he didn't particularly like burning to death. He was stripped down to his birthday suit, and it didn't help with the fact that he was in pure agony.

Gunpowder continues to run his hands through Martin's hair. "It's alright, you're ok. It will be over soon."

"Just fucking kill me." Martin groans.

"We both know that won't help." Gunpowder sighs. "Would you like to hear my story?"

Martin takes a deep breath. "Please distract me."

Gunpowder nods and begins to narrate his origins.

....

An obnoxious alarm pulled Tim from sleep on the floor. He was laying in something wet and the smell of iron... no blood filled his nose, which caused him to panic and flail completely awake. His eyes lock onto a large spider, half then blood, then flesh and bone. Gunpowder takes over before he can throw up.

"Yikes, I thought the shared emotions wouldn't be this strong. Man, you are super depressed." Gunpowder gets up, smearing the blood off from his body. "You're going to need a stronger stomach." He looked over Martin, who was out cold. "See, he's breathing.... please stop screaming. " he covers his mouth, feeling his stomach sour from the sheer fear and disgust from Tim. He swallows the bile rising in his throat, turns away from the scene, and heads to the bathroom.

Gunpowder barely makes it to the toilet to empty the contents of his stomach. He continues to dry heave for a moment before turning to face Tim. "Are you done?"

Tim was pale, and he finally caught his breath. He was still radiating fear and disgust, but he was stable enough to talk. "Is he still alive?"

Gunpowder wipes his mouth. "Of course he is. What part of we can't die, don't you understand?" He frowns, pulling back his frustration. "Sorry you can't control how you react yet. I didn't realize how much I would share when we feel strong emotions." He sits on his knees and sighs. "I'll clean up, just try not to get sick again, please."

Tim nods and shudders. "I.... I'm not desensitized to this stuff. I'm sorry."

Gunpowder gets up, feeling the soft twists of sadness and self-doubt. "Tim, it's not a bad thing, means you're still human. Don't be too hard on yourself." He pulls out some cleaning supplies from the bathroom cabinet. "Tell me about Danny."

Tim frowns and nods slightly. "He was my younger brother...."

.....

Martin wakes up to someone touching his hand. He furrows his brow, pulling his hand back, and skitters up to be his full height, staring down at Tim. He hissed and then blushed, finally realizing that Tim was, in fact, there, and he wasn't a threat. He covers his face and groans, playing out his legs to be shorter. "I didn't mean to hiss at you."

Tim looked over to Gunpowder giggling, and he felt a laugh bubble in his own throat, and wow, no wonder he got frustrated. He didn't exactly know how he felt about feeling someone else's emotions. He gave a soft smile and reached out again to hold Martin's hand. "Your hands are really like a cat's paw."

Martin smiles and lets Tim take his hand. "Spiders have padded limbs and toe beans if you actually look at them."

"That's actually really cute." Tim blushes slightly. "Oh shit how are we going to get to work?"

Martin shrugs. "Might as well scare Elias first."

"Really?" Tim snickers. "What is he scared of spiders?"

"No, he's scared of what they represent." Martin hums. "We're going to be late, and I need a shirt."

"Right, you brought a spare one, right?" Tim paused and rushed over to a bag Martin brought. "Also, you're going to have to talk to my neighbors because of all the stuff we threw out, and they probably think I'm a serial killer."

Martin snickers. "I think I'll scare them into silence."

"Man, I've seen too much of Gunpowder, and Jonny and you having fun together to remember that I'm supposed to be scared of you because you're a spider centaur." Tim tosses over a sweater.

"I suppose I don't find myself scary either. Honestly, the fear left pretty quickly once I realized how my new body worked." Martin smiles. "This will be obnoxious getting to work. I don't mind walking. You live much closer than I do, but being stared at isn't ideal."

"Maybe a blanket?" Tim stops and covers his face. "That wouldn't work."

Martin chuckles. "I appreciate the concept idea, but Jonny tried that once."

"Wait really?" Tim raised his brow.

"Yeah, ended up in a bar fight." Martin snickers. "Although it was fucking hilarious."

"Huh." Tim crosses his arms. "Just bite the bullet and head out?"

"After you." Martin hums and smiles.

.....

Elias blinks, and the scene doesn't change. What confounds him the most is the fact that this has nothing to do with the web. The Beholder is taking it all in, and he can feel actual confusion from his patron. He clears his throat and approaches. "Martin, I don't believe it's near Halloween unless you've got an event planned."

Martin hums impressed at how well Elias can mask his true emotions. "I don't think a costume would be strong enough to carry someone on." He motions to Tim who waves.

"He insisted that he carry me." Tim smiles.

"Well, yes, but I hope I don't cause you too much trouble." Martin smiles. "Why the surprise this is your institute, and shouldn't you expect the supernatural?" He has a smirk as he walks past a stunned Elias.

Elias doesn't have a response to that. His mind was completely blank, and the Beholder was eerily silent.

Tim was snickering. "Double boss man seems quite stunned."

Martin chuckles. "Oh, this is quite fun."

That thought came crashing down with a terrified scream and wide eyed stares.

Martin felt exposed, and he couldn't remember the last time he felt bad about his body until this moment. He knows Tim can feel him tense. "I..."

"Jon, seriously?" Tim huffs sliding off Martin's back. "It's not his fault he's like this."

Jon was trying really hard to keep his panic and fear in check, and he felt a growing bubble of white hot rage directed at him and feeling it. The feedback loop was really confusing. "I uh..." He was forced out by Jonny.

"Fuck off." Jonny took back control his tail was lashing and puffed out at the end. His ears were pinned back, and the hair on top of his head was puffing out. "Seriously fuck off I don't judge you for who you carnally desire. Blackwood is mine, and you have absolutely no right." He goes o continue his rant, but a tooth falls out. He blinks as confusion fills his features, and he crouched down to poke it.

Martin opens his mouth and closes it. "You know I remember now what he was missing, the teeth."

"The teeth." Gunpowder repeats with a nod.

"I'm sorry Martin, are you ok?" Sasha vaguely motions.

"I mean, it was painful, but it doesn't hurt now." Martin pauses. "I have to figure out how to use my desk."

Tim is getting back control, pulling his eyes away from Jonny, now messing with his teeth. "I mean, you can get rid of the chair and move from there."

"That could work." Martin hums and looks over to Jonny. "Are you ok?"

Jonny holds a handful of his teeth. "What do you think?" He scowls. "Well fuck you too. No, I'm mad at you. That's a stupid fucking question, I don't care about spiders let alone being scared of them."

Three pairs of eyes watch the one sided argument.

.....

A fog seemed to roll into Elias's office out of nowhere, and a tall, muscular man in a captains attire steps inside. The man stops and stares at Elias, who had his head down on his desk. "Elias?"

Elias groans. "Peter."

"Shouldn't you be enjoying your new archivist floundering?" Peter raised his brow.

Elias takes a breath. "Peter, I have called every avatar I ever had contact with to ask if they knew what was going on with my archivist and his assistants. I have no leads, and the Beholder is clueless."

Peter opens his mouth then shuts it with a click.

"Do you have any idea what's happening? Because I don't have a singlaur clue." Elias throws his hands up. "One of the archivist assistants is a half spider centaur, and he's not even aligned with the web. The other has mechanical eyes that still work as eyes. That technology doesn't exist, and the Flesh doesn't bother with machines."

Peter reaches out. "I think you need a vacation."

Elias slams his hands against his desk. "Peter, I'm serious!" He gets up and grabs Peter's arm, and drags him to the archives.

Peter stared stunned.

#the mechanisms #the magnus archives #jonny d'ville #jonathan sims #sasha james #tim stoker #gunpowder tim #martin blackwood

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