TheUnfortunateCat



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    After ramming the sub straight into the Light, Simon wakes up on a strange spaceship with no memory of how he got there. The state of the Hail Mary -spacious, clean, bright and comfortable- can only lead to one conclusion: Simon has somehow been picked up by one of the highest-ranking leaders of the C.O.I.

    Luckily, Dr. Grace doesn't seem to recognize him, buying Simon enough time to hatch yet another desperate plan for survival before his identity is discovered. In the meantime, Simon tries his best to stay in the man's good graces (no pun intended), but he's hardly known for his charming personality.

    Both of them are in for a bumpy ride.

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    “Are you an angel?” Simon blurts before immediately regretting it. It must think he’s stupid, asking something so obvious. 

    The angel pauses, caught off guard, before managing a sputtering response. “What? No. Of course not.” It insists, looking a little flustered. 

    Simon stares at it for a moment before he realizes. “Oh. Sorry.” He says. He’s not supposed to know that, it seems. That’s fine. He can keep a secret.

    OR,
    My take on the "Simon thinks he died and that Grace is an angel" trope, but with the twist that everything Grace does just convinces Simon more that he's right lmao

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    Ryland Grace is living peacefully on Erid. Peacefully until something (or someone) so monumentally bloody stains the water in his enclosure.

    Simon is trying to get by on what he thinks is heaven, until he starts to mutate into something unholy.

    OR

    You know the drill it’s platonic bloodymary time

    ——

    podfic/translation welcome!

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    Simon waited.

    Waited for them to apologize. Tell him there’s nothing they could do. That he wasn’t worth the trouble or resources, that he wasn’t worth the time.

    But that never came.

    Instead, after a second Grace came back on the line, his voice sounding determined now. “Alright,” he said. “Hang tight.”

    Simon blinked slowly. “What?”

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    20 Jun 2026

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    So Tim is content, one arm leaned into the spray, waiting for the water to warm, enjoying the feeling of homecoming underneath the gentle fuzz of jetlag, when he hears gasping, panicked breaths coming from the other room.

    Tim and Jon, in the aftermath, relearning how to be okay.

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