#writing meme response

[scealaiscoite]

.☽༊˚ prompts for helping bathe an injured loved one

¹⁾ sitting on the edge of the bathtub and letting them lay their head against your thigh as the fatigue starts taking hold

²⁾ “i know, i know it hurts but hold on for just a little longer and we’re done, yeah? think you can do that for me, pet?”

³⁾ helping them lean up so you can wash their back, and pretending not to notice them shaking in your arms

⁴⁾ “you needn’t be so gentle, y’know. if today wasn’t enough to break me, i doubt an ill-applied handful of shampoo will.”

⁵⁾ using your soapstuffs because the familiar scent will, hopefully, help calm them

⁶⁾ “i can’t believe it took a night like that for you to let me help you with something.”

⁷⁾ having never seen them in a state of undress before and so, trying admirably hard to avoid looking directly at them in such a vulnerable state

⁸⁾ “so mr/mrs surly and serious likes having their hair washed for them, hm? don’t worry, i’ll keep your secret.”

⁹⁾ climbing into the bath/shower with them, more for the physical comfort than practicality

¹⁰⁾ “i wish the first time you saw me like this could’ve been under better circumstances.”

¹¹⁾ stripping down to the same level of undress as them in an effort to try and make them feel more comfortable

¹²⁾ “can we- can we just stay here, like this, for a minute? please?”

¹³⁾ using as gentle a touch as possible to clean them off and feeling your heart break each time they still suppress a pained whimper

¹⁴⁾ “it’s just me now. you don’t have to be brave anymore.”

¹⁵⁾ trying to towel them dry but ending up just cradling them to your chest with the towel pressed aimlessly between you

[paimonial-rage]

Ask meme - 6 and 9 for the dragon men (zhongli and neuvillette) please!

This took so long I am so sorry, but here we go!

[Character Analysis Ask Meme]

What is Neuvillette's biggest insecurity?

Neuvillette’s biggest insecurity is not something he's ever tried to hide. Anyone that has spent enough time with the Iudex has probably heard him mention it before. Simply put, Neuvillette doesn't understand the emotions of humans very well. He never has and sometimes he doubts if he ever will? How many times has this flaw of his costed him dearly in the past? How many mistakes has he made? And how many are there yet to come? How he dreads the thought.

What can’t you trust [Neuvillette] with?

To chase after you - Iudex Neuvillette is many things—polite, kind, intelligent—but he is not a man without faults. Only a few know him well enough to realize he holds many regrets upon his shoulders, majority that were never his burden alone to bear. Should you ever become the source of one of these regrets, you can surely expect to know. With somber eyes and a weight upon his shoulders, he will apologize to you. But don’t expect anymore than that. Not understanding human emotions is not only his weakness, but a prison. He will not attempt to make things up to you nor will he try to make things how they used to be. You’re best off where he can hurt you no more, even if that means he will be left alone to the rain.

What is Zhongli's biggest insecurity?

Who knows lol.

What can’t you trust Zhongli with?

With mora - As knowledgeable and talented Zhongli is with many things, it is a surprise to many to hear that businessmen don’t exactly enjoy making deals with him. How can they when contract discussions always leave them with the [shorter end of the stick]? How many [unforeseen business expenses] do they end up incurring in such a short amount of time? In the end, they always lose more than they gained. What they don’t know is this unfortunate occurrence happens with any Mora dealings with the man. But what can you expect for someone that, by contract, has the Traveler liable for all expenses during his outings with them? It's simply best to leave all matters of mora out of any relationships with him.

With your heart - If there's one thing true about Zhongli, it's that, while he may withhold the truth, he does not lie. So when he speaks of a person warmly, they can very well believe his words to be true. That being said, it is important that one does not mistaken his warmth with depth. One cannot simply entrust their heart to him and expect his in return. How could anyone hope to understand the weight of many a millennia, after all? So while the desire may be cute, it'll never be something he would even consider to reciprocate.

[msmargaretmurry]

Mini fic 13. things you said at the kitchen table would be fun for matthew and leon, because another pair of my blorbos have several Important Scenes in the kitchen, so seeing how that setting is used for others is nice!

as i'm sure everyone has forgotten by now, eons ago i was doing this writing meme, and so many lovely folks left me prompts that i never got to because grad school destroyed my ability to write. but i am trying to get back in a creative groove so we're resurrecting it. so thank you for your patience/sorry about the wait i guess?? 😂 anway —

13. things you said at the kitchen table

“There you are.”

The kitchen had been so quiet that Leon jumps, looking up from his phone to see Matthew leaning in the doorway, eyebrows knit together with a frown. He’s bare-chested, barefoot, wearing the gray sweatpants that had been folded on top of Leon’s hamper, worn once but not dirty enough to put through the wash yet. There’s an array of teeth marks and mouth-shaped bruises down his torso, just starting to bloom with color. If he turned around, Leon knows, there would be a matching constellation on the back of his hip, disappearing under the waistband.

Leon tends to lose himself in the moment. Sometimes it’s a little embarrassing to see what he’s done afterwards.

Matthew tilts his head. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Leon looks at his phone again, somewhere in the middle of a mindless scroll through Instagram, then sets it aside. “Yeah, just couldn’t sleep.”

“Coulda woken me up,” Matthew says, that cocky little grin of his tugging at one corner of his mouth. “I woulda tired you back out.” He’s crossing the room as he says this, ignoring Leon’s eye-roll, pulling out a chair to sit down across from him. Elbows on the table, eyebrows raised. The only time he’s stopped looking smug all night is when Leon had him gasping and panting and moaning too hard to look anything but desperate. Which is stupid, because his team kind of got destroyed earlier, but maybe his face is just kind of stuck that way.

Leon doesn’t really get Matthew at all. He likes him well enough — a surprising enough thing on its own, and one that Leon is still reluctant to cop to sometimes. But there’s something impenetrable about him. He always leaves Leon feeling off-balance. Something about the way he walks into every room like there’s no reason he wouldn’t belong there, including Leon’s kitchen. 

The sex is great, though.

Matthew hasn’t spent the night before, but not for any real reason. Just lack of opportunity. Leon usually likes sharing a bed when he has the chance. 

Matthew nudges his foot under the table. “Hey.”

Leon blinks at him. “What?”

“You sure you’re awake?”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ awake,” Leon says, and kicks him back.

“Well then act like it,” Matthew says, catching Leon’s ankle briefly between his feet. “Is everything okay?”

Leon opens his mouth to say yes, but then he takes a moment to consider the situation, and instead he says, “This is a little weird, isn’t it? You and me at the kitchen table?”

“Well, it’s not my fault we’re not still in bed.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“I think it’s mostly weird because it’s the middle of the night.” The way that Matthew’s curls fall in his face is distracting. Makes Leon think about how they feel tangled in his fingers. He’d be disappointed if Matthew ever cut his hair short. “You know I’m leaving at the end of the season, right?”

This startles Leon more than Matthew’s sudden appearance two minutes ago. “What?”

“Contract’s up. Bye-bye Calgary.” Matthew shrugs with an extremely measured amount of awkwardness. That— that’s why he’s so fucking confusing. Even his sincerity feels like an act sometimes. But even more than that—

“Why?”

“It’s too fucking cold, I’m homesick, and my coach hates me.”

“No, mean— really, he does?”

Another shrug. So helpful.

“I mean, why are you telling me this?”

“I’m trying to make you pay attention to me,” Matthew says. “Geez, why do you think I’m here?”

Leon raises his eyebrows. “You didn’t get enough attention earlier?”

A tiny grin. “No.”

“So where are you going?”

“Dunno yet.”

“Is that true or are you just not telling me?”

Another shrug. A slightly larger, smugger grin.

“You think I’ll miss you?”

“Nah. You’ve got Davo to keep you warm.”

“We’re not—” Leon ignores Matthew’s dancing eyebrows. “Seriously, why are you telling me this?”

Matthew kicks his foot under the table again. “Come back to bed. We’ve got, what, two games left this season? I’m trying to get the fuckin’ in while I still can.”

“So you’re going somewhere far away,” Leon says.

“Dude, you’re in Edmonton,” Matthew says. “Everywhere is far away.”

“I meant, like, out of the conference.”

Shrug. The temptation to reach across and hold Matthew’s shoulders still is so strong. Instead Leon just meets his gaze, trying for the umpteenth time to figure him out. It doesn’t work, so he looks again at the collage of bruises spilling over his collar bone. He’s changed, in the couple of years they’ve been doing this. His body used to be wirier, but now he’s starting to fill out like a grown man. Leon can feel it on the ice, when he hits him, and in bed when he fucks him. He used to be wilder, more immature, more willing to sacrifice the play to be annoying, but he’s honed that down to an art. Whatever team gets him is going to be blown away by what they find behind his reputation. And Leon— well. It’s strange to feel so acutely that in the grand scheme of things he’ll just be an anecdote in Matthew’s life. It doesn’t bother him, exactly. It’s just a strange little moment. He’d thought, maybe stupidly, that they’d be doing this for years to come. Battles of Alberta and all that. But somehow it makes a lot more sense this way.

“Come on,” he says, standing abruptly. He catches Matthew by the arm on his way around the table, pulling him along back toward the bedroom. Matthew shakes the grip off, but catches his hand instead. In bed, he kisses Leon like he means it, but there are a lot of ways to mean something.

[writtenbygracewilliams]

Me: wrote this two days ago

Also me: is surprised by my characters actions and motives

[write-it-motherfuckers]

what if we replace fuck marry kill with hug adopt slap for underage characters. better version

How about hug, adopt, therapy? H.A.T for short

[raayllum]

me asking myself if callum would torture someone for information if rayla or ezran's lives were on the line

[skywriter97]

@maddiebwrites 😗🎵🎵 😁😁😁👀👀👀👀

[lainalit]

SJM writing Acotar 6

[can-of-slorgs]

Final surprise boop attack for @yowassupitsred!!

Faeran would 100% be really obnoxious about Calamari, and would intentionally make others appreciate her boopings haha.

(Secret second boop attack to @starbiology in revenge to the april fools war because even though i didn't know if you had any characters, I think of her as your character by this point and I found this scenario hilarious in my mind)

[erineverly]

#           𝒓𝒄𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅           ;           continued from here.

❝   axl?   ❞   erin  calls  out  for  what  feels  like  the  hundredth  time  even  as  her  throat  begins  to  close  in  on  her,  dainty  hand  carefully  pushing  the  door  to  the  master  bedroom  ajar.  she  hesitates,  lingers  in  the  threshold  and  struggles  to  calm  down  her  racing  heart.  she’s  beyond  terrified  of  what  might  await  her  inside.  it’s  three  in  the  morning.  the  clock  is  still  ticking  in  the  distance.  tick.  tick.  tick.  and  even  children  know  that  all  horrible  things  always  happen  at  three  in  the  morning.  this  house  smells  like  death  —  the  thought  crosses  her  mind  involuntarily  and  refuses  to  leave.  the  air  is  stale  and  there’s  something  dark,  sinister  lingering  in  it.   ❝   @rcsechild?  i’m  coming  in,  okay?   ❞   maybe  he’s  asleep,  like  most  people  would  be  at  this  ungodly  hour,  and  that’s  why  he’s  not  answering,  and  she’s  just  so  paranoid.  

but  as  she  steps  inside,  she  finds  the  room’s  been  abandoned.  much  like  the  living  room,  the  dining  room,  kitchen,  pantry,  downstairs  bathroom…  pale  moonlight  pouring  in  through  the  tall  windows  being  the  only  source  of  light  because  she  hasn’t  yet  mustered  enough  courage  to  turn  on  the  bedside  lamp.  large  shadows  dancing  between  moonbeams,  pretending  to  be  what  they’re  not  and  sending  chills  down  her  spine.  it’s  like  a  dream,  she  thinks,  a  nightmare.  everything’s  so  vivid  and  real,  and  yet  it  almost  feels  like  she’s  standing  beside  her  own  body,  watching  it  unfold  while  having  absolutely  no  control  over  what  happens  next.  she’s  growing  numb  because  she’s  had  this  feeling  all  night,  keeping  her  wide  awake  —  not  that  she’d  manage  to  sleep  otherwise,  she  doesn’t  remember  the  last  time  she  got  more  than  two  hours  of  undisturbed  rest.  a  voice  in  the  back  of  her  head  telling  her  to  go  check  on  her  husband.  legally,  he’s  still  her  husband.  their  lawyers  have  already  drawn  up  divorce  papers,  but  they  remain  unsigned.  at  least  on  her  end.  why?  she  can’t  explain  it. 

pale  blue  eyes  scan  the  area  reluctantly,  having  already  adjusted  to  the  dark.  what  is  she  looking  for?  a  gun?  a  noose?  traces  of  blood?  his  feet  sticking  from  the  closet?  but  the  room  is  empty.  the  only  thing  that  she  finds  is  an  envelope,  and  for  a  brief  second  it  almost  feels  like  relief.  that  is  until  her  brain  reminds  her  that  most  people  who  commit  suicide  usually  leave  goodbye  notes…  her  hands  begin  to  shake  as  she  picks  up  the  envelope  and  turns  it  over.  she  lifts  the  unsealed  flap  and  pulls  out  a  single  folded  sheet  of  plain  white  paper.  she  doesn’t  really  want  to  read  it.  part  of  her  is  tempted  to  rip  it  apart,  stand  up  and  run  for  the  door,  never  look  back  again.  but  before  she  can  stop  herself,  her  fingers  are  already  unfolding  the  paper,  gaze  landing  on  familiar  handwriting  as  her  body  sinks  into  the  mattress.  she  reads  it,  every  single  word.  once,  twice,  three  times…  over  and  over  and  over  again.  the  tremor  in  her  hands  increases  and  she  has  to  lower  them,  place  them  in  her  lap  to  stop  the  letter  from  flapping  about  in  front  of  her  eyes,  giving  her  an  even  bigger  headache.  she  smooths  it  out,  smearing  droplets  of  water  across  the  paper.  water?  but  —  she  begins  to  hyperventilate,  not  even  realizing  that  there’s  tears  running  down  her  cheeks.  the  ink  spreads  and  words  blur  as  more  teardrops  roll  down  her  face  and  fall  onto  the  letter.

for  the  last  goodbye…  he’s  killed  himself.  he  must  have  finally  done  it.  that’s  why  he’s  not  answering  her.  she’s  come  here  but  it’s  too  late.  it  dawns  on  her  all  at  once,  that  feeling  she’s  been  having…  a  person  knows  what  the  other  half  of  their  soul  departs  —  he’s  gone.  she  so  selfishly  left  him,  a  broken,  suffering  shell  of  a  man,  blamed  it  all  on  him  and  he’s  ended  it.  it’s  all  her  fault.  she  couldn’t  be  the  wife  that  he  deserved,  couldn’t  love  him  how  he  needed  to  be  loved.  she’s  read  countless  of  letters  written  by  him,  but  not  one  has  ever  sounded  this  final.  she  folds  it  and  tries  to  put  it  back  in  the  envelope,  but  her  hands  are  trembling  too  much  and  all  she  manages  to  do  is  cut  the  pad  of  her  fingertip  on  the  sharp  edge.  she  gives  up,  crumples  it  and  tucks  it  into  the  pocket  of  her  jeans.  her  mind’s  switched  off,  and  her  body’s  acting  on  its  own  accord,  moving  almost  automatically.  her  legs  are  weak,  trembling  as  she  stands  up,  as  if  they  were  made  of  jello.  he’s  here  somewhere…  and  suddenly  she  thinks  she  knows  exactly  where.  the  one  room  that  she  hasn’t  set  a  foot  in  since  that  halloween  night.  shiloh  or  willow’s  nursery.  and  god  does  she  dread  going  there… 

[bedlamsbard]

POV

Natasha POV of the opening scene of Of Home Near! (Original version here.) About 1.1K below the break.

*****

Sometimes Natasha thought that Howard Stark just liked looking at Steve.

She had seen Tony watch Pepper when he thought no one else was looking, and there was a little of that in the way Howard watched Steve, his chin propped on one hand and his eyes going soft and pleased.  Part of it might have been only that Howard had missed his best friend while Steve had been presumed dead and was more than a little afraid that Steve would vanish if he looked away, but if there was one thing other than how to kill people Natasha knew, it was how to read men.

She couldn’t exactly blame Howard for it.  She liked looking at Steve too, and she was the one who was in his bed every night.  She had the right to look, which was still a fairly novel sensation for her.

By the time they had been there for a week, everyone in the SSR was getting fairly stir-crazy due to the lockdown Howard had imposed.  As far as Natasha could tell, no one was actively opposed to it; despite Howard’s attempts to spread a more mundane version of the story, rumors of Captain America’s dramatic return had spread and at this stage in the war everyone in the SSR was paranoid enough to understand the reasons for the lockdown.  It just didn’t mean they enjoyed it.  It also meant that they were running short-handed since Howard had instituted the lockdown in the middle of the night, when most of the SSR’s personnel had already gone home.

They were in Howard’s office, Natasha watching Howard watch Steve and wondering if Steve had any idea that Howard Stark was in love with him, when she heard the sudden silence in the lab outside.  Steve cocked his head to one side, listening, then suddenly went white.  Natasha looked at him in concern, then turned as the door opened behind them.

“Stark, you are aware there’s still a war on, aren’t you?  We can’t drop everything to hop across the Channel just on your say-so.”

The speaker was a tall army officer with a weathered face, wearing a colonel’s insignia and SSR pins.  There was a woman with him, mouth painted red and brown hair perfectly coiffed, and four years ago Natasha had seen both of their portraits flanking Howard Stark’s in an old SHIELD building in New Jersey not long before Hydra had blown it to hell.

Howard’s gaze flickered quickly to Steve’s still face before he straightened up. “I didn’t think this one could wait,” he said.  “And you took your time coming back; I called you a week ago.”

“Because there’s still a war on,” the woman said.  Steve shut his eyes at the sound of her voice, breathing hard, and Natasha closed her hands into fists.  She might be sleeping with him now, might have his name and his borrowed ring on her finger, but she was under no illusions about where she ranked on a scale that included Peggy Carter.  “Well, what is it?”

Howard looked at Steve again instead of responding.  Steve breathed in deeply, then opened his eyes and turned around.  “Peggy,” he said, then swallowed hard and added, “Sir,” to Chester Phillips.

Phillips blinked once, clearly startled, and said, “Rogers.”

Peggy didn’t say anything at all.  She just walked forward until she could put her arms around Steve.  Natasha bit the inside of her cheek as Steve hugged her back, his whole body briefly going slack with relief, like he had gotten something back that he had never expected to have again.  Which he had.

When Peggy finally pulled back, she reached up for him, and this time Natasha looked away, belatedly aware of Howard Stark’s sharp gaze tracking the motion.

Steve said, “Peggy, wait – wait –” and Natasha looked back, startled.

Peggy seized his left hand, staring at the ring on his finger, and said, “You –!”  Then she punched him in the face.

Steve staggered backwards and almost fell.  Natasha and Howard caught him to steady him as he got his feet under him again, staring at Peggy with huge, hurt eyes.

“Well,” Howard said, releasing him once he was sure that Natasha had a good grip on Steve’s other arm, “at least she didn’t shoot you this time.”

“Thanks, Howard,” Steve said, touching his jaw gingerly. “That really makes me feel better.”  He was trembling a little under Natasha’s hands, but his voice was even.  Since she had seen him take a punch from a god without flinching, she suspect his reaction was more surprise than anything else.

Peggy shot Natasha a hard look that both took in the ring on her left hand and quite obviously found her wanting.  Natasha met her gaze calmly, not willing to let herself waver and undermine Steve.

“Glad to see you’re in fine form, Rogers,” Colonel Phillips said, turning to shut the door on the audience they had acquired in the lab.  He looked at Natasha and added, “Is this the lucky lady?”

“Natasha Rogers, Colonel Phillips, Agent Carter.”  She let go of Steve and offered the colonel her hand.  His grip was firm and dry; she saw him register her pistol calluses and nod a little, giving Steve a contemplative look that was probably at least as much evaluating his taste in women as gauging anything about Natasha.

Natasha felt the pistol calluses on Peggy Carter’s palm and fingers as the other woman squeezed her hand a little too hard, her expression suggesting that she would have liked to rip Natasha’s throat out with her teeth.  Her gaze tracked the scar at Natasha’s hairline from the Battle of New York as well as the way Natasha shifted her weight after Peggy released her, one professional’s quick evaluation of another.  She didn’t look at Steve, whose expression was miserable.

Howard and Phillips were both looking back and forth between Steve, Peggy, and Natasha like spectators at a three-way tennis match.  Natasha let out her breath, then took Steve’s hand in hers, folding her fingers around his and squeezing a little to reassure him.

She had only been thinking about how Steve might react to Peggy Carter.  It had never occurred to her to worry about how Peggy Carter might react to him.  Or to Natasha, for that matter.

“You were able to bail out?” Phillips asked Steve.

Steve took a deep breath. “Not exactly,” he said. “I didn’t walk away from the crash, either.”  He glanced at Natasha, who nodded a little in response to his unspoken question, then took another deep breath and looked back at Phillips.  “I’m Steve Rogers, but I’m not your Steve Rogers – I mean, I am, I’m just not from 1945.  Nat and I are from 2018.”

[vatyrie-avaris]

Astarion and Vatyrie at the beginning of their relationship is basically

Vatyrie lets Astarion drink his blood and seduces him, so if his identity as a demi-devil ex-noble is revealed, Astarion will want to keep him around and might convince the others to not send him away. Astarion does his thing with seducing Vatyrie for a similar reason: protection and ally-ship. Vatyrie realizes first that he is falling for Astarion around the end of Act 1 (though he honestly starts developing feelings shortly after their first night together).

Then in Act 2 when they realize they have real feelings for the other, it comes with The Guilt of worrying that they've just manipulated the other person. Astarion realizes his feelings much later but he is the first one to bring it up in the Act 2 confession scene. And What a fuckin RELIEF it is for them to realize they not only feel the same but also have both been stumbling around feeling guilty about "manipulating" the other. To know that they won't lose the other or be pushed away for doing what they thought they had to to protect themselves, for a mistake made when they didn't know any better.

[kiwiana-writes]

for the fanfic asks 2, 7, 27 and 72!!! (Please and thank u)

2. Where do you get your fic ideas?

God, anywhere and everywhere. My own life, other media, tumblr posts, chaotic off the rails conversations with friends...

7. Post a snippet from a wip.

😈 From rockstar Alex exes to lovers:

27. What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

Probably character voice? Dialogue and narration. I slip on US/UK terms sometimes but in terms of the characters sounding/feeling like themselves, that's probably it.

72. What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?

Any variation on "I will follow you into any trope/pairing/kink/premise even if it's not something I'd normally seek out because I trust you as a writer". INCREDIBLY flattering.

[Fanfiction writing asks]

[landwriter]

8! ♥

my beloved Hooked on a Feeling by Blue Swede! It's gotta be - like no question, it's gotta be a romcom-energy Dream POV.

Hob cuddles Dream for the first time and Dream just falls in LOVE. It's totally platonic. He fell in a lake or something. And he's no longer near-hypothermic, he's ass over tea kettle in love. On the outside: stony and stoic. On the inside: writing poems about Hob. Jacking off about Hob. Looking at everything from a particularly friendly yellow tea towel to trees in a park and being reminded of Hob. (Hob said he liked forests, once.)

There's mutual pining and they both think it's unrequited, for an appropriately light-hearted and brief amount of time. Hob expresses his feelings by doing little flirting things that send Dream absolutely around the bend. Buys him potted plants. Gets him books. Bakes for him. Touches his arm. Dream presumes Hob is this friendly with everyone, because Hob is a Very Good Person, and Very Good With People, unlike him. Hob literally cannot help himself. His love shines out of him. Dream thinks Hob just looks that way all the time.

At some point, someone - anyone, literally anyone with eyes - mentions 'your boyfriend' to Dream, and Dream is like, "What boyfriend? Who?" and Hob, who is also there, in earshot, is like, "Yeah, who?", baffled because surely he'd have noticed Dream having a boyfriend, they spend so much time together these days, but also 100% ready to fight the man for his crime of existing.

And someone - Matthew, Lucienne, literally even the deli guy, just shakes their head and offers a silent prayer to the God Of Himbos that the two idiots figure it out within the next decade.

(They do.)

[write-it-motherfuckers]

From going through your fmk tag, I've learned that you definitely have a type and it's definitely large men with long(possibly fluffy) hair.

Shhhhhh! It wasn't a secret but shhhhhh!

[ruthlesslistener]

for the ship/don't ship meme: Aeris and his Dubious Decisions Trio (Drifter, Misraaks, Taniks)

KJHSDBFGKJSHDF I SHOULDA KNOWN YOU'D ASK ABOUT AERIS'S POOR CHOICE IN MEN

(preliminary note: Aeris is aromantic, so saying that I ship Aeris with anyone here defines a close sexual partnership rather than a typical romantic relationship, as he's incapable of anything else. We aroshippin in this bitch)

Putting this under a cut bc its gonna get long and there's going to be talk about sex. Lots of OC x canon stuff in here for the 3 people who are into that sorta thing

Aeris/Drifter: Don't ship, casual fling

Why don’t you ship it?

-Aeris chose Drifter to pop his cherry/teach him how to fuck for two reasons: one, he knew that Drifter was pan and thus actually interested in him, and two, he knew that Drifter wouldn't make it weird or judge him for his...everything. Drifter also thinks he's kinda cute in a weird, awkward, gangly way, so he was more than happy to have a casual fling with him and teach him the ropes

2. What would have made you like it?

-Not sure honestly! I like the thought of Aeris and Drifter being bros who are comfortable enough to fuck if they want it (like how straight men will compliment each other's ass and dicks, but these guys actually mean it), but as an actual pairing they're more just for character development than anything else. I prefer Eris/Drifter QPR too so Drifter is kinda taken in that regard, though Drifter DOES like to crack jokes about fucking both Aeris with an A and Eris with an E to those in the know

3. Despite not shipping it, do you have anything positive to say about it?

-Even tho Aeris never really sought Drifter out after he got confident in his abilities to not fuck up a fling, I have a fuckload of fun imagining them going 'nice cock bro' in casual conversation or Aeris showing off in Gambit while Drifter hypes him up. So they're still very much a fun duo to fiddle with but it's not much different from how they were before

Aeris/Misraaks: FWB ship, kinda complex

I'mma count this as 'ship' even though its not too far off from the Aeris and Drifter thing in that a heatmate is just an inherently more vulnerable, intimate position than a casual fling. However, Aeris is still aromantic and Misraaks is someone I view on the ace/demi spectrum, so it comes with a caveat in that its again, not a ship so much as this grey zone of 'I trust you to see me when I'm aching and needy and vulnerable but I don't want you as a partner'- made even MORE complex in that Aeris treats Eido like a younger sibling which gets Weird when you factor in the fact that he's fucking her dad (though obviously the adopted sibling thing isn't literal)

What made you ship it?

-Aeris/Misraaks was the first thing I considered when thinking about fleshing out Aeris's sexuality. Partially because Misraaks is hot, so of course I'd want to throw people at him, but also because his chill, laid-back personality meant he was perfect for Aeris's tendancy to want to experiment with things.

As for how they fit together- it works because Aeris, as the Young Wolf of his universe, already has a history of trustbuilding exercises with Misraaks, so Misraaks knows that he's a very quiet, dependable individual who'd never divulge any personal information and would meet any of his alien eccentricities with curiosity instead of fear or judgement (and that Aeris is brutally honest, so him offering himself as a heatmate because he wants to help + is curious is genuine). Aeris is also in the unique position of being both outside of traditional Eliksni culture while also being feared and respected enough by them to be a Kell's heatmate, so even if something DID come out about them fucking, there wouldn't be any social consequences to it re: hierarchy stuff. Oh, there would be gossip for sure- but how could you tell a godslayer who he could or could not share his body with? Or judge a Kell for wanting someone so strong as a suitable mate? Not to mention not needing to worry about any STDs or pregnancy issues with Aeris, as Misraaks might for any other Eliksni

And Aeris- as he very quickly found out when sleeping with Misraaks- is a size queen and a masochist. So Misraaks doesn't really have to worry about Aeris just gritting his teeth and bearing it. If anything, he has to tell Aeris to slow down before he does something that causes Misraaks irreparable distress, even though Aeris himself can bounce back from any injury. It makes finding relief during his heats all that much easier, even if Aeris can't give him pheromonal relief

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

-The comedic relief potential inherent to anyone figuring out that Aeris and Misraaks are fucking. I mean, its a very poorly kept secret if you knew where to look, but...who's looking?

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

-I literally made Aeris and this pairing, I have nobody to argue with but myself

Aeris/Taniks: Ship. Just outright ship. Aeris is still aro here but honestly I don't think that matters here because the whole thing is a goddamn disaster from start to finish. They're the world's most beautiful car crash

What made you ship it?

-The moment the whole 'OOPS I ACCIDENTALLY MARRIED TANIKS THE SCARRED WHEN GUARDING A NEWLIGHT' moment went down in DnDestiny! I had ZERO recollection of the 'bite to denote marriage' headcanon at the time I decided I wanted Taniks to bite Aeris, so running with the joke was great fun. And then, of course, as soon as you start joking about it is when it becomes serious, so here I am

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

-That it works surprisingly well given the circumstances. Aeris is aromantic, autistic, and a living weapon- he took the 'you are a dead thing made by a dead power in the shape of the dead. All you will ever do is kill' thing that the Witness said to him in the Black Garden waaay too literally, and nothing he had to do ever really disproved that, either. Taniks is undersocialized to the point of being feral, doesn't know what love is, and is only seen as a murderous killing machine by both Eliksni and humans alike, so their character parallels are wayy too fun to play around with. If there was anyone for Taniks to be accidentally married to, then Aeris is probably his best bet. Now he's just gotta get over the fact that Aeris thought it over and actually wants to be tied up with him...gl with that buddy

Also, Aeris has a lot of really, really hard kinks related to his issues with personhood that really only another guardian or someone like Taniks can resolve. And Aeris doesn't get along with other guardians well enough to form a sexual relationship with them, so...Taniks it is then! Works out in the long run anyhow bc of the aformentioned size kink thingy he's got gong on, bc Taniks is a big boy. There's more of a social consequence to the whole ordeal, of course, but Aeris doesn't give a lick of a shit about that

Plus they have the extra fun of 'enemies to...whatever the fuck is going on over there.' 'The only one who can see the humanity in a monster is another monster' sorta deal. Idk they both need therapy for their traumas but they're gonna do it in the most fucknasty gorey way first

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

-See above point about me literally making Aeris and thus being incapable of having an unpopular opinion on a guy very few people know about.

The closest I can come really is that the jokes about him and Taniks getting divorced ain't happenin because uh,,,those bite marks aren't going away any time soon. As in, ever. Idk about Taniks being able to shed them out but Aeris isn't getting out of this one in the slightest