My name is Emma & I do some on/off writing for multiple fandoms. I am asexual, biromantic, and use she/her and they/them pronouns. The main fandoms I am in atm are Aphmau & TADC!
I mainly focus on SFW oneshots/short stories, but I have longer fics on my AO3!
I DO NOT write any kind of smut, incest, or pedophilia. If you have a question of what I can write, please ask!
My account is a SAFE SPACE! I will not tolerate any homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia, or any hate speech. Spreading hate results in getting blocked/reported.
Fandoms I write for:
Aphmau (Mystreet, SMP, MCD, ect.)
Undertale / Deltarune
The Amazing Digital Circus
The Apothecary Diaries
Madoka Magica (platonic only!!)
Will write:
Canon x Canon
Canon x OC
Canon x Reader (Y/N)
Headcanons
Fluff/angst/hurt/comfort
I am open for any request, but please respect if I cannot complete it
Imagine Ryland having to explain to Rocky that human women bleed every month and its a sign of health as you’re actively going through it
me rn actively going through it
rocky would be pissed about how poorly humans are designed, bc what do you mean the blood that's meant to keep your heart pumping also just leaks out for a week every month? where is the spare blood? why haven't humans evolved past this?
and it hurts too? this is bad engineering. why can't humans just open their carapace like eridians and remove the waste material? oh because they'd die? great. incredible work, god.
and grace doesn't have to deal with it? well now rocky's mad at grace. human male design seems to have a lot of advantages, why doesn't he have to suffer like you? rocky is that meme of the guy crying and punching the wall bc cramps exist
AHHH I loved sleepless nights!!! I absolutely adore father figure Grace he means so much to me 😭
Do you think you could make one based on that where Reader and Grace have met Rocky and he assumes they’re biologically father and child and they have to explain it’s more like an adoption situation? Sorry if my wording is strange I’m a little half asleep right now ‘^^
Thank you and have a lovely day!!!
Technical Problems
Ryland Grace & technician!younger!reader
✶⋆.˚ summary: in which you, during maintenance, get into an accident which leads to Rocky questioning your parental relationship with Ryland. mix of the request above with another 'reader gets hurt, hurt/comfort'
✶⋆.˚ yaps!: hi guys!!!! im SOO very sorry i havent been writing for a while, life got REALLY busy.. and with the fact my school soon starting is nawt helping 😭
You don't really know how you got into this situation, well, you do, but it was a blur of adrenaline and pure unadulterated panic.
You wiped a bead of sweat from your forehead with the back of your sleeve, sighing as you stared into the open maintenance panel of the secondary oxygen. The wiring looked like a nest of multicolored snakes, and none of them seemed to want to cooperate.
"Hey, Ry?" you called out, your voice echoing slightly in the cramped corridor. "Did you re-route the primary bypass to the starboard grid, or am I looking at a ghost current here?"
From the lab area a few meters away, a head of messy, blonde hair popped out from behind a microscope. Ryland Grace blinked at you through his smudged goggles, his glasses in one hand and a half-eaten pack of sour skittles in the other.
"I didn't touch the starboard grid!" he called back, his tone carrying that characteristic blend of manic energy and mild exasperation that you had come to associate with him. "That was Rocky! He said the Eridian equivalent of 'if it ain't broke, make it shinier.' Don't touch the blue wire unless you want a face full of static!"
"Fascinating. Thanks for the warning after I almost grabbed it," you muttered, leaning a bit further into the access hatch.
You were the third wheel on this bizarre, suicidal, savior-of-the-galaxy unicycle. When the Hail Mary mission had been scrambled together by Eva Stratt, you had been shoved into the extra bunk as a jack-of-all-trades technician—someone to keep the ship from falling apart while the brilliant Dr. Grace did the actual science. You hadn't expected to wake up from amnesia alongside him, and you certainly hadn't expected to become best friends with a five-legged, rock-hard alien who spoke in musical chords.
But here you were.
You reached deeper into the panel, trying to snag a loose zip-tie that was dangling dangerously close to the main power terminal. Your fingers brushed the plastic. Just a little further...
Snap.
It didn't happen in slow motion. It happened in a fraction of a heartbeat. A heavy, spring-loaded titanium tension bar—one that hadn't been properly secured during the rush to launch—snapped out of its housing like a steel trap.
It struck the back of your right forearm with a sickening, heavy thud.
The force of the blow tore a sharp, choked gasp from your throat. Your arm violently jerked back, scraping against the sharp, raw edges of the metal hatch casing. The pain didn't hit immediately; there was just a terrifying, numb coldness, followed instantly by a white-hot, throbbing agony that made your vision go entirely black around the edges.
"Ah—! Shit! Shit! SHit!" Your voice cracking as you stumbled backward out of the corridor, your knees giving out beneath you. You hit the deck plates hard, clutching your right arm against your chest.
Within seconds, the heat arrived. A deep, agonizing throb pulsed through the bone of your forearm, and when you looked down, a jagged, angry tear in your jumpsuit was already blooming a dark, stark crimson. The metal hatch had sliced a deep line from your wrist halfway to your elbow, and the skin beneath was already swelling and turning an ugly, bruised purple from the impact of the bar.
"Hey! What happened? I heard a—"
Ryland’s voice cut off abruptly as he rounded the corner. The casual, exasperated scientist vanished in a fraction of a second, replaced by the ghost of the man who had survived a suicide mission by sheer force of will. His eyes went wide behind his glasses, staring at the blood pooling on the deck and the way you were curled into a ball, trembling.
"Oh, Jesus—[Name]!"
Grace dropped his glasses. It hit the floor with a loud clatter that echoed through the ship, but he was already moving, sliding on his knees across the metal deck to your side. His hands hovered over you, trembling slightly, before his training—or maybe just his frantic, protective instincts—kicked in.
"Don't move, don't move, let me see, let me see," he muttered, his voice climbing an octave into pure panic. He gently but firmly grabbed your shoulders, guiding you so you were leaning back against the bulkhead rather than slouching into your own wound. "Where hurts? Just the arm? Did you hit your head?"
"Just... the arm. God, Ryland, it exfuckingcruciating ," you wheezed, using a ridiculous amalgamation of words because your brain couldn't quite process English correctly through the haze of pain you were currently experiencing.
"Okay, okay, exfudgingcruciating isn't a word, you're shocky," Ryland babbled, his hands finally settling on your upper arm to stabilize it. He looked at the deep gash, his face paling. "Okay, that's a laceration. A deep one. And that swelling... man, that bar hit you hard. I think it might be fractured. Fudge. Okay. Breathe. Just breathe."
Before you could reply, a frantic tapping sound echoed from the Xenonite partition wall.
Clack, clack, clack-clack.
Through the thick, transparent barrier that divided the human atmosphere from the hot, high-pressure Eridian environment, a dark, rocky figure scrambled into view. Rocky’s five legs moved in a blur, his carapace clicking against the floor as he rushed to the window. His small, sensitive radar organ on top of his body was spinning frantically, scanning the scene.
A series of rapid, high-pitched musical notes erupted from his vocal organ. The translation software on Ryland’s computer lag-ly groaned to life a second later:
“What is noise? What is leaking, question? Friend is leaking! Grace! Why is friend leaking red?!”
"They snapped a tension bar, Rocky!" Ryland shouted toward the partition, not looking up as he frantically ripped open a nearby emergency medical kit. "The arm is broken! Or cracked! And cutting! There's a lot of blood!"
Rocky’s musical chords turned into a chaotic, discordant screech—the Eridian equivalent of a scream. “Bad! Bad! Friend is broken! Fix it, Grace! Apply glue! Apply pressure! Do not let friend empty!”
"I'm trying!" Ryland yelled back, his hands shaking as he pulled out a bottle of antiseptic and a roll of sterile gauze. He looked at you, his eyes softening with an immense, heartbreaking amount of worry. "Okay, [Name]. This is going to sting. Like, a lot. I'm so sorry."
"Just do it," you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut and bracing your head against the wall.
When the antiseptic hit the open cut, you couldn't stop the loud, pathetic sob that escaped your lips. Your whole body tensed, your good hand clawing at Ryland’s shoulder for an anchor. You hated crying, hated feeling vulnerable, but the pain was an absolute inferno.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry, you're doing great, just look at me," Ryland murmured frantically. He didn't pull away from your grip. Instead, he leaned closer, using his body to shield you from the sight of the wound, his voice dropping into a soft, soothing cadence that sounded distinctly like a teacher comforting a terrified child. "Look at me, [Name]. Focus on my voice. You're okay. The Hail Mary isn't crashing, the astrophage isn't exploding, you just had a fight with a piece of metal and you lost. It happens to the best of us."
Behind the glass, Rocky was pacing back and forth like a caged animal. His heavy, metallic claws scraped against the Xenonite wall.
“Grace! Give comfort! Press friend close! When pebbles break carapace, we hold them in the center! Why Grace not holding friend?!”
Ryland shot a wild look at the glass. "I'm trying to bandage the wound, Rocky! I need two hands for this!"
“Bad response!” Rocky chimed angrily, his chords buzzing with deep, resonant vibrations. “You are bad! Bad parent! The pebble is weeping! Hold the pebble!”
You let out a weak, watery laugh through your tears, the absurdity of the situation piercing through the pain. "Did... did he just call me your pebble?"
Ryland paused, a strip of medical tape held between his teeth, his eyes wide. "Uh. I think he did." He quickly finished wrapping the gauze, securing it tightly enough to stop the bleeding but loose enough not to aggravate the potential fracture. He then carefully lifted your arm, placing it gently into a soft sling against your chest.
Once the arm was secured, Ryland didn't step back. True to Rocky’s frantic demands—and honestly, probably driven by his own skyrocketing anxiety—Ryland shifted his position. He sat down flat on the deck plates right next to you, wrapping a heavy, protective arm around your uninjured shoulder and pulling you firmly against his side.
You didn't protest. You leaned your head against his shoulder, letting out a long, trembling breath as the initial shock began to fade into a dull, exhausted ache. Ryland’s chest rose and fell in a steady, exaggerated rhythm, giving you a pace to match your own ragged breathing.
"There," Ryland muttered, his hand gently patting your upper arm. "See? Not emptying. Contained. You're good."
Rocky finally stopped pacing, pressing his front two legs against the glass, his radar organ focused entirely on the two of you curled up together on the floor. A low, purring chord emanated from him—a sound of deep relief.
“Good,” the translator droned. “The stone protects the pebble, statement. The leakage is stopped. The small one is resting against the big one. Is correct biological behavior.”
Ryland sighed, rubbing his temple with his free hand. He looked at the partition. "Rocky, buddy. We need to clear something up. [Name] isn't my pebble."
The translation software paused for a moment before outputting a sharp, quizzical note. “Contradiction. You share small vessel. You possess greater age and mass. You protect. You provide nutrients. You scold when they touch the blue wire. They are your genetic continuation.”
You snorted, a little bit of blood-tinged adrenaline making you feel slightly giddy. "Yeah, Ryland. Why did you scold me? Bad dad."
"Oh, shut up, you," Ryland said affectionately, nudging your head with his cheek. He looked back at Rocky. "No, Rocky. Humans don't just travel with our children. [Name] is a grown, independent adult human. Well... mostly adult. Sometimes they eat dry cereal out of the box at three in the morning, but legally, an adult."
“An adult?” Rocky’s chords sounded profoundly confused. “But they are so small. Their skin is smooth. They do not have the grey fur on head like you. They make the high-pitched distress noises of a juvenile.”
"Hey!" you protested weakly from Ryland’s shoulder. "I'm [your age]!"
"And I have grey hair because of stress, Rocky, not just because I'm old!" Ryland defended himself, though he couldn't help but chuckle. "Look, in human biology, [Name] is not my child. We do not share DNA. My genetic code did not combine with another human to create them. We are completely unrelated."
There was a long silence from the Eridian side of the glass. Rocky stood perfectly still, his radar organ slowly tracking back and forth between you and Ryland. To an Eridian, who lived in a deeply communal, strictly biological caste and family structure, the concept of two unrelated individuals forming a tight, protective bond was completely foreign.
“Not genetic?” Rocky asked softly, his tones low. “Then... why do you care? If the small one breaks, your genetic line does not fail. Why does your heart beat fast? Why do you weep from eyes when they are hurt?”
Ryland’s arm tightened around your shoulder just a fraction. The playful banter died away, replaced by a profound, heavy warmth that filled the small corridor. He looked down at you, his eyes incredibly soft, full of a fierce, quiet devotion that didn't need a bloodline to justify itself.
"Because," Ryland said quietly, his voice carrying clearly through the intercom to Rocky’s side. "Humans have this thing. We don't just love the people we're born with. Sometimes, we find people in the middle of a dark, terrifying universe, and we look at them, and we decide 'You're mine now.' We adopt them into our hearts."
He looked back at the glass, smiling gently at the little rock alien.
"Think of it like an adoption, Rocky. [Name] isn't my biological child. But they are my family. I am responsible for them, and I care about them just as much as if they were my own blood. When they hurt, I hurt."
You felt a lump form in your throat, a sudden wave of emotion that had absolutely nothing to do with the physical pain in your arm. You squeezed Ryland’s waist with your good hand, burying your face into his shoulder for a brief second to hide the fresh tears prickling your eyes. Waking up on this ship with no memories had been terrifying, but finding Ryland—and Rocky—had given you a home in the middle of nowhere.
Rocky’s radar organ spun in a slow, beautiful circle. He didn't speak for a long time, processing the complex, beautiful concept of human chosen family. When he finally played a chord, it was a sequence of notes that sounded like a lullaby—warm, harmonious, and deeply respectful.
“Chosen offspring,” the translator read. “A beautiful concept. Eridians do not have this. We only love the hive-blood. Human mind is strange and soft. But good. Very good.”
Rocky then tapped the glass gently, right in front of where your head was resting against Ryland.
“I also choose,” Rocky stated firmly. “If Grace is the sire of choice, I am the uncle of choice. I am Uncle Rocky. I will make a hard carapace for the chosen offspring's arm so it does not break again.”
You couldn't help but burst into a genuine, bright laugh, the sound echoing happily down the corridor. "An uncle? Rocky, I would love to have you as an uncle. But please, no Xenonite armor on my arm, I still need to be able to lift things."
“We will discuss armor design later,” Rocky replied primly, his chords vibrating with amusement. “Now, Grace. Take the chosen offspring to the sleep-bunk. They require rest and hot liquid food. I will monitor the ship. I will not touch the blue wire.”
"Thanks, Rocky," Ryland said, a massive grin breaking across his face.
Carefully, with an immense amount of gentleness you weren't used too, Ryland helped you stand up. Your knees were still a bit shaky, but he kept a firm arm around your waist, bearing most of your weight as he guided you away from the maintenance panel and toward the living quarters.
As he tucked you into your bunk, pulling the thick blankets up to your chin and handing you a warm bulb of re-hydrated broth, Ryland hovered over you, checking your bandage one last time.
"You okay, kiddo?" he asked softly, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.
"I'm fine, 'Dad'," you smiled back, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. "Thanks for patching me up."
Ryland rolled his eyes, but the sheer, unadulterated affection in his face was impossible to hide. He gently patted your head, smoothing down your messy hair. "Anytime. Now get some sleep. Tomorrow, your Uncle Rock is probably going to try and teach you how to eat heavy metals, and I need you fully rested to say no."
As you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the safety of the blanket and the rhythmic, now comforting hum of the ship, you realized that being lost in space wasn't so bad. Not when you had a father-figure to hold you when you leaked, and a rock alien uncle keeping watch in the dark.
Me when I accidentally ignore the 50 notifications in my box...
reader having some bound fate towards aphmau and aaron.. or if they accidentally touch the realm breaker... something happens abd theyre transport to mermaid tales..
01. MYSTREET: LOVE~LOVE PARADISE—"LOVE IS IN THE AIR~♡"
DROPPED!!!! UNAVAILABLE
description : your good friends aaron and dante managed to snag some love~love paradise resort tickets, its famous for couples falling inlove with eachother? but you? single! i wonder if the mystreet cast want to take interest in you!
-> check it out! (prologue)
01 : romantic getaway
02 : beaches, friends and dogs. oh my!
03 : blast in the past!
04 : friendships is sandcastles!
05 : who's that pokem— fine shyt!
started 05.05.25 -> ended ???
02. PHOENIX DROP HIGH: GOTTA ROMANCE EM ALL X ISKEAKED!GENDER NEUTRAL READER
MAJOR CANON REWRITE !!
INSPIRED BY ALTERNATIVE PATHS ON AO3 AND BY MY LOVELIES @/oliemolliever and @/leyforshort !!
description : phoenix drop high! you haven't heard that name in almost 8! theres a video game about it? i mean hey you didnt keep up with aphmau so you didnt know if she made for her older fans or not. well you tried it out and get sucked up your tv which turns out the game is a FUCKING love video game.
PROLOGUE: AW SHIT! HERE WE GO AGAIN.
01 : WHO WORD , WHO TF DIS?
03. DEEP BELOW: FORSAKEN X READER
description : after the events of the stick to the script ending, mr. lopee is unable to revive you in which a different deity has chosen you for your sins. with your sea bunny and nothing but shitty items, you seem to forever stuck in purgatory.
started 10.18.25 -> ended ??
mel's fic ideas -> DO NOT STEAL !
01. MINECRAFT DIARES : REBIRTH "THE MATRON AND HER VIRTUE ."
yandere!minecraft diaries cast x gender neutral!reader
NOTHING IS HERE YET . . . !
description : the world irene and [name] had blessed has been decaying. lords and townspeople have been going missing or wind up dead . when a not-so-mysterious figure summons both irene's and [name]'s bodies. the tides change. good or worse. who knows!
started ??? -> ended ???
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
02. MYSTREET: EMERALD SECRET : I WILL NEVER BE SATISFIED...
aaron lycan x gender neutral!reader
NOTHING IS HERE YET . . . !
description : after outgoing the effects of the forever love potion, [name] finds themselves caught in middle of fighting their emotions. to my dear aaron, my best friend. why do you look at me with such loving eyes? i had did nothing but treat like shit.
Y/N didn't choose MyStreet. Her powers, destabilized by a particularly emotional event (perhaps a deep feeling of loss or regret), accidentally caused a catastrophic, low-level reality shift. She woke up in a quiet, suburban house that had seemingly popped up overnight right next to the guys' house.
Her house is slightly... off. It's a blend of sleek modernity and old-world, slightly unsettling decor (like strange, dusty books and unsettlingly symmetrical furniture). Sometimes, the internal architecture subtly shifts to match her mood (a slightly longer hallway when she feels isolated, a sudden abundance of windows when she's calm).
She moves in under a simple name, just Y/N, trying to keep her past and her overwhelming power under wraps. She wears stylish, comfortable clothes, but there's always a subtle red or maroon thread running through her wardrobe.
Garroth is the first to greet her with his usual enthusiastic, slightly awkward charm. He tries to offer her cookies, but when he hands her the plate, it momentarily turns into a flock of startled, tiny red butterflies before reforming in his hands. He just shrugs it off, convinced he's exhausted from training, while Y/N panics internally.
Laurance is immediately intrigued by her intense, slightly reserved nature. He tries to flirt, but whenever he gets too close, her hex magic unconsciously manifests as a subtle deterrent—his shoelaces spontaneously knot, his phone suddenly loses all signal, or a nearby lawn sprinkler spouts water directly onto his head.
Katelyn is the most suspicious. She doesn't trust the "new, quiet one" who popped up out of nowhere. She often catches Y/N doing strange things, like hovering a broom to sweep the floor or making a burnt piece of toast un-burn, and just assumes Y/N is secretly a hyper-advanced robot or a very weird mage.
Aphmau is drawn to Y/N's quiet intensity. She sees a potentially deep friendship and tries to include her in everything (MCD re-watches, gaming tournaments, trips to the park).
Y/N secretly enjoys the comfort and genuine nature of Aphmau and the group, but it makes her magic flutter nervously. During a scary movie night, she doesn't use magic to fix the TV or scare them—she accidentally turns all the popcorn red, or causes the spooky background music to briefly switch to the theme song from Dora the Explorer.
This is an absolute nightmare. If she can't find the exact cereal she wants, she might unconsciously use her reality-warping powers to slightly change the label of another box to make it look like the right one. She has to constantly remind herself: "I have money. I can buy this. I cannot just will it into my basket."
The MyStreet group has their usual silly drama (minor misunderstandings, lost keys, a broken washing machine). Y/N has to sit on her hands to stop herself from simply hexing the problem away. She finds that using mundane tools (like a screwdriver or a map) is much harder than simply making the desired outcome appear.
The one person who eventually realizes Y/N is not normal is Zane. He might catch her in a moment of distress, maybe when a small, silly fight between Garroth and Laurance causes her to remember past conflicts. In that moment, her powers surge, and Zane sees the full, terrifyingly beautiful crimson energy, the chaotic magic that belongs nowhere in this world, before Y/N clamps down on it and turns the whole yard into a temporary, but perfectly grown, field of sunflowers.
Zane, recognizing the "outsider" vibe, becomes her hesitant confidant. He doesn't understand the scope of her power, but he understands the need to keep secrets and the feeling of being different.
Surprisingly, Zane's cynical, low-energy presence is actually grounding for Y/N. When her powers threaten to run wild, she finds that sitting with him while he eats cupcakes and talks about ponies is strangely therapeutic and helps stabilize her emotional state, therefore stabilizing her magic.
ryland grace knew his brother was friends with all sorts of troublemakers and constantly surrounded himself with bad influences. but maybe not all of them were that bad after all—not when he was friends with you.
pairing: ryland grace x f!reader
status: ongoing
tags/warnings: strangers to friends to lovers. university au. coltland twins + older brother gentry au. blended smau. inconsistent posting schedule. hurt/comfort. rocky is a bernese mountain dog. kys/kms jokes. suicidal but as joke but not as a joke. mentions of partying/clubbing. alcohol use. smoking. suggestive at a certain level. lots of cursing. everyone here is ooc lowkey. no beta we die like the sun. warnings may change as the story progresses. mdni.
taglist: open, reply to be added
INTRODUCTIONS: colt has skid marks | group 5 gen chemistry ii
PROLOGUE: fuck you and fuck your apologies
CHAPTER ONE: wtf is a ryland
CHAPTER TWO: pathetic, good for nothing, wet cat loser
A/n: Got asked about writing for PHM stuff and here is a second piece to the other fic.
The first thing you noticed was the sound.
It wasn’t human. It wasn’t mechanical either, not fully. It was… musical. Soft, layered tones echoing from the other room like someone was playing notes through metal and stone instead of air.
You froze mid-step, eyes lighting up as you grabbed Colt’s arm. “What is that?”
Colt immediately looked like a man who had made a mistake. A big one. “Nothing,” he said way too fast.
You turned slowly, narrowing your eyes. “Colt.”
From behind you, Ryland groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “What the hell did you tell her, Colt?”
“I didn’t tell her anything!” Colt shot back defensively. “She said she wanted to meet your—” he gestured vaguely, already backing away, “....rock friends.”
You gasped, delighted. “I do wanna meet your little rock friends!”
Ryland looked at you like his brain had just tripped over itself again. “They are not little.” He muttered then winced as another series of chiming, curious sounds echoed from the other room that was now closer.
Your entire face softened instantly. “Oh my...ok I need to see them.”
Before either of them could stop you, you slipped past Ryland and into the next room.
“Wait!!” Ryland started, following after you, already tense. “You should...just...maybe don’t—”
You stepped through the doorway and stopped.
They were beautiful.
Two massive, rock-like beings shifted on the reinforced floor, their forms unlike anything you had ever seen, five limbs each, bodies like living stone, the larger one towering slightly over the other. Their bodies caught the light in muted, earthy tones, and as they moved, those soft musical sounds filled the room again, echoing gently off the walls.
Your hand flew to your mouth. “Oh,” you breathed, completely awestruck. “Oh, they’re perfect.”
Ryland blinked behind you.That…was not the reaction he’d been expecting.
Rocky stilled for a moment, then let out a curious series of tones, lower, inquisitive. Adrian shifted beside him, larger and quieter, but clearly attentive.
You took a slow step forward. “Hi,” you said softly, like you were approaching a shy animal instead of two alien beings the size of small cars. “Hi, babies…”
Ryland nearly choked. “Babies....?”
Colt snorted behind him, already losing it.
Rocky made a brighter, almost excited series of notes, his body angling toward you. Adrian followed, slower but deliberate, their presence warm and steady.
You crouched slightly, completely fearless and held out your hand. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” you murmured gently.
Ryland opened his mouth to warn you, something about basic safety, that they're aliens but before he could get a single word out, Rocky reached forward.
One of his limbs extended, the three triangular fingers moving with surprising precision as he tapped lightly against your hand.
You lit up. “Oh my god, you’re saying hi—” you laughed softly, pure delight in your voice as you let him explore your hand, completely unbothered. “Hi, sweetheart. Hi.”
Adrian shifted closer, larger limb brushing lightly against your arm in what felt unmistakably like curiosity.
You looked up at them both, eyes wide and soft. “You’re both so pretty.”
Ryland just… stared.
Because Rocky made another sound, higher this time, almost rhythmic and Adrian followed with a deeper tone that echoed through the room.
They liked you.
They really liked you.
Colt leaned over, nudging Ryland with his elbow, grinning like a menace. “Wow. They didn’t even like me this fast.”
“I cannot believe this is happening,” Ryland muttered, still watching as you gently laughed, completely surrounded by two enormous alien beings like it was the most natural thing in the world.
You reached out with your other hand, carefully brushing along Rocky’s carapace. “You’re like a big rock puppy,” you whispered.
Rocky responded instantly bright, chiming tones that almost sounded like happiness.
Adrian shifted again, pressing slightly closer to you in a way that felt protective, curious, and just a little possessive.
You didn’t even hesitate. You leaned into it, smiling.
“I love them,” you said immediately, looking back at Ryland like this was the most obvious thing in the world. “I love them so much.”
Ryland’s brain stopped working for the third time that day. “…you do?”
You nodded, beaming, turning back to them as Rocky tapped your hand again like he wanted more attention. “They’re perfect.”
There was a pause.
Then Colt clapped a hand on Ryland’s shoulder, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.
“Congrats,” he said. “Your alien best friend and his wife just stole your girl.”
Ryland didn’t even argue.
Because watching you laugh softly, completely at ease, completely genuine as Rocky and Adrian hovered close, making soft musical sounds like they were just as smitten with you and he had a very sudden, very overwhelming realization.
This was either going to go incredibly well.Or completely ruin him.
Colt leaned against the doorway like a man trying very hard to process what he was seeing and failing.
Because in front of him, you were casually standing between two giant alien rock creatures, one of them gently tapping your hand like a curious puppy while the other hovered close like a very large, very protective bodyguard.
And you were smiling.
Smiling.
“Aren’t you like… freaked out?” Colt finally asked, gesturing wildly at the scene in front of him. “They are aliens. Most people freak out about aliens.”
You looked over your shoulder at him like he’d just said something deeply confusing. “They’re babies.”
There was a pause.
Colt blinked.
Ryland blinked.
Rocky made a soft, pleased chime.
“…they are not babies,” Ryland said weakly, though even he sounded unconvinced at this point.
“Yes they are,” you said immediately, turning back to Rocky as he nudged your hand again. “Look at him. He’s literally asking for attention.”
As if to prove your point, Rocky leaned forward again, his massive body shifting in a little bounce—a full eight hundred pounds of alien rock doing what could only be described as an excited wiggle.
Colt stared. “I hate this,” he muttered. “I hate that you made that cute.”
A soft mechanical whirring sound cut through the room.
“STATEMENT… CORRECTION,” came a slightly distorted, musical voice.
Rocky straightened, well, as much as a five-limbed rock alien could and let out a series of tones that filtered through the device.
“CLARIFICATION,” the translator buzzed, “WE ARE NOT… ‘BABIES.’”
Colt snorted. “Thank you.”
You tilted your head, unconvinced. “Mhm.”
Rocky paused, then continued. “ADDITIONAL CLARIFICATION,” the translator continued, tone shifting slightly as if trying to interpret something more complex, “WE ARE… ADULTS. VERY COMPETENT. HIGHLY INTELLIGENT.”
Another pause.
Then the device crackled again.
“…BUT,” it added.
Ryland’s head snapped up. “Oh no.”
Rocky let out a series of softer, chiming notes. “…YOU MAY CONTINUE TO CALL US… ‘BABIES,’” the translator finished.
Colt lost it. “I KNEW IT,” he shouted, pointing at Rocky like he’d just betrayed his entire species. “I KNEW YOU WERE GONNA FOLD...”
You beamed, immediately reaching up to gently pat Rocky’s carapace. “Good babies.”
Rocky made a bright, pleased trill, almost smug.
Adrian, not to be outdone, shifted forward, their larger frame pressing lightly against your side.
The translator buzzed again. “QUERY,” Adrian’s deeper tones translated, “DO WE ALSO RECEIVE… ‘PATS.’”
You gasped like you’d just been given the greatest honor imaginable. “Of course you do.”
Ryland covered his face.
Colt leaned against the wall, wheezing. “I cannot believe this. I cannot believe the aliens asked for head pats and got them.”
Because now you were gently brushing your hand along Adrian’s larger frame, smiling like this was your life now and honestly? You didn’t seem upset about it.
“…CORRECTION,” the device buzzed, “HIGHLY ACCEPTABLE.”
You laughed softly and somewhere behind you, Ryland just stood there, staring at the scene like he had completely lost control of his own lifebecause not only were you not freaked out you had just been approved.
ryland grace and fem reader 𖥧 young prodigy ! reader
Grace barely remembers anything about you, it's all blurred memories that resemble your face. He knows you are part of the project, the fact that you're in the ship is enough proof, but.. you look so.. young. You look like the students he knows, or at least thinks, he taught back at home.
You've survived, unlike the other two people he can barely remember aswell, but you're still asleep. You're in a coma that he doesn't know how to manually wake you from, but at least you're not dead.
He doesn't know anything about you, well, he knows your name and that you look like someone who is just starting out in college, but he desperately needs you to wake up.
He needs you to wake up so he can stop crying his heart out.
content 𖥧 i try to keep reader gn but you might see fem pronouns/afab (lemme know if this happens, it's just what im used to), angst but fluff and a lot of wholesomeness, reader is unrealistically young (but they were short on personnel so its okay).
warnings 𖥧 BOOK canon typical crybaby ryland, blood and injury, mentions of death, mentions of suicide (mission), reader is implied to have sh at some point in their life (just scars gonna be mentioned).
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ chapters
0.5 ─ the introduction (reading rn)
1 ─ awake
2 ─ remember
3 ─ grace
more tba ..
˖᯽ ݁˖· ─ taglist
🏷 @lvlyywntr , @rilezra , @kirarisoul , @churchl4dy , @callme-holly , @radioshepard + comment to be added !!
tropes ? found family , father figure who is trying , adopting an alien , amnesia , trauma bonding , hurt-comfort , aroace rep (ryland).
summary: during your period, eridians, Rocky, and his mate, Adrian, fuss over you! eridians purr. and rocky getting mad ragebaited at the idea of human 'engineering' (part of da 'saturday cuddles' universe!)
yaps!: thank you so much @saturnhas274moons for recommending this idea to me!! mhwamhwa, hope u like this..hehe..ook enough of angst (for now), for my next fic, what would u guys want?? more fluff or ANGST..lmk! listened to "Saturn" by Sleeping At Last, and "And The Winner is" while making this!
You are curled into a tight ball on the "bed"—that massive, reinforced platform layered with every soft textile and scrap of insulating foam salvaged from the Hail Mary. Every few minutes, a sharp, white-hot wave of pain rolls through your abdomen, a familiar monthly visitor that feels particularly cruel when you’re light-years away from a pharmacy.
Under your shirt, the jagged line of your "Rocky Scar"—the mark left behind when your Eridian friend saved your life—pulses in sympathy-like with the cramps. It’s a reminder of survival, but right now, you just feel like a mess of malfunctioning nerves and a waste of carbon.
A heavy, metallic thump-clack echoes across the floor. You don't have to look up to know it’s Rocky. His five-legged structure is as familiar to you as your own mind. Beside him, the lighter, more melodic tapping of Adrian’s claws follows.
"Question?" Rocky’s synthesizer voice rings out from the nightstand, clear and inquisitive. "Why is Human Y/N still in the insulation pile? The 'sun' has cycled twice. Teaching time is soon. Grace confused. I also confused."
You groan into your pillow, a sound that translates to the Eridians as a low-frequency distress signal. Adrian moves closer, her form rotating with concern. She reaches out a warm, stone-like limb, hovering it just inches from your back.
“Temperature is high,” Adrian’s whistles and clicks are translated by the small device clipped to her harness. “You are leaking heat. Is there a hull breach in your biology? Is human dying!? Please do not die! It would be very inconvenient and sad.”
"I'm not dying, Adrian," you wheeze out, squeezing your eyes shut as another cramp ripples through you. "It’s just... a human thing. My body is resetting. It hurts. A lot."
Ryland wanders in then, looking disheveled, holding a mug of chamomile tea the Eridians replicated. He sees the three of you huddled together and immediately softens. He knows the look in your eyes; he’s seen you power through lab accidents and alien microbes, but he knows this particular brand of misery is one that requires total surrender.
"They're worried about you," Ryland says softly, sitting on the edge of the platform and placing a hand on your shoulder. "Rocky thinks you’re melting because your core temp jumped a degree. I tried to explain human reproductive cycles to him, but he just got offended that your body 'destroys its own systems' once a month. He thinks it’s bad engineering."
“It IS bad engineering!” Rocky interjects, his claws clicking rapidly against the floor. “Why break the internal walls? Just keep the walls! If I built a ship that melted its floor every thirty days, Grace yell at me!”
"He's not wrong," you mutter, pressing your face into Ryland's thigh. "Ryland, tell them I'm okay. I just need to be a potato for about four days."
Adrian tilts her head, her 'eye' focusing on where you are clutching your stomach. “You are in pain. Pain is for when predators bite. There are no predators in the dome. Except maybe the vacuum, but the dome is strong. If you are in pain, we must fix.”
"You can't fix it, Adrian," Ryland says, stroking your hair. "It just has to happen. Heat helps, though."
The word heat seems to trigger something in the Eridian pair. On a planet where the surface temperature could melt lead, "heat" is their specialty. They are technically biological furnaces, their carapaces radiating a steady, dry warmth that far exceeds any electric heating pad.
Rocky steps up onto the platform. The bed groans under his weight, but it’s sturdy. “I am heat, statement.” he declares with a flourish of his limbs. “I very good at being hot. I am the best heater on Erid. Adrian is also a good heater. We will insulate the problem.”
Before you can protest, Rocky moves with surprising gentleness. He doesn't crowd you; instead, he maneuvers his heavy, five-sided body so that he is braced against your back, his warm carapace pressing firmly against your spine. The heat is immediate and intense, sinking through your shirt and into your aching muscles. It’s a dry, deep warmth that seems to vibrate.
Adrian doesn't want to be left out. She climbs onto the other side, tucking her limbs in and resting her front-side near your abdomen, being careful not to put her full weight on you. She feels like a living stone warmed by a desert sun.
Ryland watches them with a look of pure, unadulterated affection, full of care. "I think you've been secured by the Eridian Heating Company," he jokes. He crawls into the middle of the pile, slotting himself behind Rocky so he can still reach over and hold your hand.
"This is... actually amazing," you whisper. The crushing weight of the Eridians combined with their radiating heat acts like a full-body pressure therapy. The sharp stabs in your stomach begin to dull into a heavy, manageable ache.
Then, the sound starts.
It begins as a low-frequency hum, so deep you feel it in your teeth before you hear it. It’s a rhythmic, pulsing vibration coming from both Rocky and Adrian. It isn't the musical whistling of their speech; it’s more primal, a steady thrum-thrum-thrum that echoes the beat of your own heart.
"Are they... purring?" you ask, your eyes fluttering shut as the tension finally drains from your shoulders.
"Yeah," Ryland whispers, his voice thick with sleepiness. "Rocky told me about this once. When they have 'pebbles'—their young—they communal-sleep. They produce a resonance in their carapaces. It’s meant to stabilize the heart rates of the young and keep them calm while they grow. It’s a biological lullaby."
“You are small,” Rocky’s translator chirps, though his voice is lower now, hushed. “You are un-harmonic. You are pebble today. We vibrate buzz pain away. Sleep now, statement. Grace, sleep. You are noisy when worry.”
Ryland chuckles, his fingers interlacing with yours. "Copy that, Rock'. Sleeping now."
The dome is silent save for that incredible, ancient purring. It’s a sound that has existed on Erid for millions of years, a song of protection and kinship. Nestled between the two aliens and the man who traveled across the stars with you, the pain in your body feels insignificant.
You feel the scar on your side—the one that matches the one on Ryland's arm. It feels warm, almost glowing against the heat of Rocky's shell. You aren't just a human in a dome anymore; you are part of their kin, a family that doesn't care about biology or species, only about the fact that one of their own is hurting.
The lavender and apricot light of the artificial sunset fades into a deep, restful indigo. As the Eridian purring synchronizes, your breathing slows. Ryland’s head drops onto your shoulder, his breath hitching in a soft, rhythmic snore. Adrian shifts her weight, her claws making a tiny, comforting tink against the bed frame.
The last thing you feel before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep is the overwhelming sensation of being loved—not just by a man, but by a planet. You are tucked into the safest place in the universe: a cuddle pile at the edge of the galaxy, guarded by two biological furnaces who think you’re a very poorly engineered, but very dear, friend.
Outside, the Eridian winds howl and bash against the glass, but inside, there is only the warmth, the purring, and the steady, unbreakable bond of home.
yippee, WHAT DO WE THINK GAIS.....once again, many thanks to @/saturnhas274moons and friends for proof-reading/inspiration! much love, Aντίο, atsisveikink, paalam, and adiós! thanks 4 reading!1! 💚🤞 next fic might be ry n u meeting rocky and adrians pebbles EHEHEHEHE....👀
growing up looking different than everyone around you was sure to make any child odd, but you were an entirely different species of odd
ryland grace understood the strange and unusual, and despite feeling out of place on a different planet, rocky seems to have forgotten some valuable information that would have definitely helped with getting used to living on Erid.
I love you aromantics I love you asexuals I love you demi-aces and demi-aros and graysexuals and grayromantics and sex repulsed aces and sex positive aces and aro/ace people who date and aro/ace people who don't and all aspec identifying people no matter what your preferences are I love and support you all and you are all valid and if anyone implies your life is inherently worth less because you don't fit their allonormative expectations they're stupid as fuck and hellfire will rain down upon them
