#ao3
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Do you have any recommendations for Mer AUs?
I’m going to be honest, I’ve never read any fics like this I think! I can’t seem to find many except for these two, I do apologize. (Both written by the same author lol) Dawn On The Docks By: seadragonCaspian Explicit, M/M, 1/1, 1K Rape/Non-con Grian encounters an unexpected visitor while fishing early in the morning. This visitor has plans with him. Dusk In The Caves By: seadragonCaspian Explicit, M/M, 1/1, 1K Grian finally starts to adjust to life in the cave with Scar
Psssst Garden of The Gods - Chapter 7 - Nervous_Inhuman - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own] Next chapter is up! I’m picking on Grace for fun! Grace was floating in the EVA suit but the Hail Mary was nowhere in sight. He was completely untethered, adrift in space. He tried not to flail or make any sudden movements that would jerk his momentum in one direction or the other. Ryland stared out at the expanse of stars surrounding him. It was odd that the shock and wonder of it had started to fade. This was just his neighborhood now. He assessed his surroundings. With all his other dreams lately there had to be something off here. Maybe he was about to suffocate in space or something horrible like that. The track record wasn’t good so far. Grace looked below himself. He saw… the Petrova line. Illuminated in red light, just like when he’d gone to extract samples from Adrian. Unlike the stars he’d grown used to, this was just as striking as it had been before. The light shimmered and refracted bright red against every spec of Astrophage. Then he followed the line to his left. On the other end of the line he saw… Earth? That was odd. Astrophage never had any reason to make its way to Earth. The atmosphere couldn’t sustain it. When he looked closer the line appeared to be stretching towards the western seaboard of the US. The bay. It was coming directly from San Francisco. He was sure of it. The Petrova line was coming straight out of his own crappy little apartment. This felt more like a dream than the others. This didn’t make any sense, but in a cosmic way. It was almost refreshing. He turned to his right, following the line to its destination. In the distance he saw a space station. It was a wide structure, a central column circled by a narrow ring rotating around its center. A light could be seen from the innermost chamber, glass panels letting internal light out into the surrounding space. A feeling of dread stirred up in his gut. He recognized this, too. Something told him it was Eden. He could almost make out the tree branches through the large dome windows. The Petrova line cut clear through to the center of the station, where the roots of the tree would have sat. Grace looked down below his feet again. He was floating a couple of hundred feet above the Petrova line. As he watched, the particles of Astrophage began to morph. They grew thicker, coagulating into each other. They congealed, pouring from San Francisco to Eden and forming a river in space. It was the blood. He could see it flowing, passing over itself in a thick current. Grace’s first instinct was to push away from it. As hard as the impulse was to fight, he stayed. Watching. It wasn’t finished. The river started to solidify and flatten. It gained a sheen, unlike water, more like a ribbon. When it had finished its transformation, it made itself taut. Then, the planet began to get drawn towards the station. The red ribbon trailed out from behind each entity and rippled as they moved. It was as though the ribbon had cut clean through them and now served as a track for them to travel along. They were closing in on Grace, both pulling toward each other impossibly fast. He knew better now than to fight it, so instead he braced himself. The planet would collide with the station and he would wake up. If he just let it happen he would be okay. He watched Earth approach him, feeling like it would be less stressful to at least be crushed on the side of something familiar. He could make out the details of cloud formations as it came in closer. It looked like a foggy day in the bay. He focused on the wisps of clouds draping themselves over Southern California. Grace stretched out his arms in embrace. It felt like going home.
Return “But it’s a nice thought, isn’t it? Do you ever just close your eyes, and… ah. Think about what it would be like? To fly away from here and disappear into the clouds…” She had a pretty smile when she daydreamed. The conclusion to my TLOU II fanfic Letters, which I began almost 6 years ago. This has become a very personal project, and in the end, a story I am very proud of. It feels good to finish something. Start from the beginning.
Dear Maria, count Me In! The morning after the party, you woke up to a text from an unknown number, but you knew exactly who it was, seeing as you only gave one person your number the night before, it had to be him. Frank. The message read, “hy, ts frnk, jst mkng sur u gt hme safe n sht nd wht dy r u fre?” his texting is horrible. but it is cute in an emo way. you decided to text him back, “hii!! I’m so sorry to leave you on delivered for so long, I to be completely honest, I passed out the miniute I got home, but I’m not doing anything this friday, so, we can hang out then :)” you got up and grabbed a donut from your fridge before laying down on your sofa, and waiting for him to text back. You barely had to wait. “frdy s perf js lik u bb” you could feel the grin through the words. or half words. “I was thinking we could go to the gas station and walk around downtown? I’ve been craving a monster all week.” you took a bite of your donut and watched the text bubble appear. “yh bb tht snds grt.” “frank, please use full words I cannot understand what you are trying to communicate to me and I won’t tolerate the emo song title texting.” “ok ok sorry bb” at least he’s well behaved. Its cute in a way. He obsessed over you for the next few days, thinking about how easily you controlled him. It was hot, and he hoped you approached the entire world like that, because a girl that knows her worth is the hottest thing ever.
hiii do you have any watcher grian hurt/comfort? or even just fluff (bittersweet or wholesome, either works)
Ooooo yes I do: Make Yourself at Home (Stay as Long as you Need) By: All54321 Teen Audiences and Up, M/M, 13/13, 46K words After years of imprisonment, Grian finally escapes the watchers, only to find himself in Scar’s the Crafting Dead world instead. He’s determined to escape this world as quickly as he can, but it proves harder then he had anticipated. Despite how suspicious Grian is, Scar takes Grian under his wing, teaching him how to survive. He’s just glad to have company after surviving all on his own for so long. Baby, just let me bleed in peace Teen Audiences and Up, M/M, 1/1, 2K words By: mossman_mothman “Grian?” Scar asked, ignoring the shake in his voice. “Yeah Scar?” Grian looked eager. Open. Gods, Scar missed that look. “Can you cut my hair? Right now?” You could hear a pin drop in the room. Grian looked like he wanted to say something, but closed his mouth and nodded instead. — Scar returns to Hermitcraft as the only one to fully remember the experience of Third Life and Last Life with no magic able to sooth the rough edges of it. Even Grian, tied close to the gamemakers, remembered it like an echo of someone that wasn’t him playing the game, and helped wipe most of the event from the others’ mind upon request. Too bad Scar was a very special boy who’s magic refused to let that settle in. He’s perfectly okay though! No side effects from that whatsoever. The panic and fear were temporary, so there was no need to let anyone know about that slight issue. Now if he could only give himself a haircut so no one could have a handhold on him, that would be nice. Dematerialized By: Calypso_IsACardboard General, Multi, 17/17, 81K words There is something to the Void that can’t be seen. Even since season 8 started and Pearl and Gem joined, Scar felt in the air. The magical of the Hermitcraft world as a whole shifted, something powerful hiding in the waves, and it didn’t take long for Scar to figure out that the Void shared the same magical signature, if it wasn’t stronger. The more Scar fell in the Boatem hole, the more obvious it became that there was something comforting in that magic. Something almost friendly, almost… human. Too bad no one believed him. After all, it wasn’t Scar’s fault if he could feel the magic of the world when the others can’t. However, Scar is nothing but stubborn, and dead set on proving his point. The day he found himself in the depths of the Void, staring at a figure of starry fog, all wings and eyes floating before him, he knew he’s never been more right. Or: Grian is the God of the Void, an immaterial manifestation of what’s left of him, and Scar is the one who keeps running after him. Worship By: Miss_Purr Mature, M/M, 3/3, 12K Watchers are supposed to be worshipped, Grian never really was. Years later though, that changes and it’s not as great as they had made it out to be, it’s absolutely awful. It’s a good thing Scar is there to make sure that his favourite builder doesn’t go insan e. (Chapter Two is just about pure smut!) (Chapter Three is long dramatic lore that was completely unnecessary!) Strange Premonition By: moomoorare Explicit, M/M, 3/3, 11K Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Scar’s yellow death in the ravine blooms him with flowers of crimson and purple. Grian’s green death in the Battle of the Desert burns a new fury, a new Hunger. Scar’s red death in the Cactus Ring, follows their last obscene meal before the Great Unknown. This is a story about Lust and Inevitability.
I’m At The End Of My Trope Fest FIVE DAYS LEFT TIL SUBMISSIONS ARE DUE! Just a friendly reminder fics are due on June 21st, so get those babies submitted ASAP! I am happy to grant extensions, so PLEASE reach out to me if you think you need more time. If rathe have a late submission than miss out on an awesome new fic. We already have 18 (!) fics pending reveals and I cannot wait to share them with y'all! So many different pairings, unique takes on the prompts, it’s incredible! I’m At The End Of My Trope | Archive of Our Own I’ll give another shout on the final day as well. *kisses*
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