#this is not about canon this is about if it would take you out a fic mentally if he took his shell off

[eggueggueo]

Shadowvanilla in Dungeons & Dragons...

Que me yapping under the notes

I would like to say, uve created a special kind of brainrot in my mind with this ask

Ive wanted to write a whole fic off this now with how much it inspired me gjcjch

For now though, have this! Im still drawing the outfit designs for them (smilks is done but pv is taking foreeeever) but i really wanted to do something silly in the meantime hehe

I thought for days how to approach this idea since the ask was pretty vauge and open to a lot of interpretation (/not complaining!!) And pulled inspiration from bg3 since thats one form of dnd im familiar with. Then i thought about the owlbears in the game and that itd be silly to draw something related to it (even though idk how to draw animals at all ☠️)

Now onto info for this au!!

For the setting, initially it takes place in ep7/8 ish (since atp 8 hasnt come out but its gonna be hella canon divergent anyways so shrugs) where pv and smilks have their final confrontation. Pv wins, but takes pity on smilks and spares him. Smilks in a fit of desperation and delirium, tries one more trick to beat pv, but it backfires terribly and both their magic (since they pull from the same soulgem) does some weird wombo combo effect reaction which alters time and space and! Poof they both get pulled into the rift/distortion

When they wake, all that they experienced (in their canon world) is like a strange dream. I wont say more since id like to elaborate and explore the idea more

And erm,,,it might change a bit since the ideas are still being worked on

But!!

Pure vanillas class is a cleric (shocker) and shadow milks class is a sorcerer

Its a running gag in my head that everytime shadow milk tells someone hes a sorcerer, they look him up and down and say, "your....a sorcerer?? You dont dress the part"

To which he will roll his eyes in annoyance and tell them, "their clothing is too boring to wear!"

[whentheycry-problems]

Canonically, Keiichi Maebara's only objection to getting forcefemmed is that it would tarnish his reputation.

He dissociates and overperforms a caricature of masculinity. He is hyperaware of the misogynistic treatment women face, and sometimes wonders how he would deal with misogyny. He also narrowly avoids facing actual transphobia for crossdressing in front of a bunch of misogynist assholes.

Keiichi doesn't really have any close male friends and is mostly comfortable around girls*. At one point he gets annoyed that his friends share some nebulous bond that he doesn't, and wishes he could share that bond too. They're literally his closest friends. There's no deeper bond that he's missing out on other than... also being a girl.

There is a scene where he confronts a another guy, Kameda, about his "secret embarassingly feminine hobby". the whole thing takes place in a bathroom and is framed like he's clocking a trans woman. he literally threatens to out the guy, but eventually confides "don't worry, I too struggle with having embarassingly feminine interests". The "embarassingly feminine hobby" that they share is "eating delicious pastries". This story has a whole bunch of symbolism about eating pastries being a symbol for having weird thoughts about women, but is pretty clear that Keiichi and Kameda are having different thoughts about women than the horny straight guys are having.

When Keiichi gets into a card game tournament with a penalty forcefem game for the loser, his tactic for success is literally to "think like a girl". Keiichi is extremely interested in women's clothing and repeatedly claims to be a pervert despite, frankly, seeming totally uninterested in sex. He has a bunch of opinions about cosplay that basically boil down to "Women's clothing is so cool but can we please not talk about the body of the person wearing them. If someone wore women's clothing, I bet they'd feel really happy about it. Wearing women's clothing would be the best thing ever. For someone else. I swear I these are heterosexual feelings." Kameda, the other guy with "embarassingly feminine interests" feels almost the exact same way. If you read between the lines, Keiichi is absolutely one of those eggs who swears they just have a thing for crossdressing.

*Keiichi's best friend Mion would almost certainly be a trans guy if she knew that was an option. She is consistently extremely uncomfortable with performing femininity. She always tries to take an authoritative masculine role. Mion has straight up said, completely unprompted "I wonder what it'd be like to be born as a man" and has gotten THIS close to breaking down in tears and sobbing about how she wishes she could start life over as a guy. Also, she constantly calls herself an old man and carries a phallic symbol everywhere. The only part of femininity she seems to enjoy is the thought of dating Keiichi. And the closest they ever got to that actually happening, she put him in a maid outfit and paraded him around as her trophy wife. She seems to be obsessed with forcefem as a coping method for dysphoria, something like "at least I won't be the only one forced to act like a girl"

Higurashi: When They Cry is about a bunch of idiots trying to figure out their identities. And then the killings start.

If you see this post you’re legally required to tell me at least one trans woman headcanons you have for a canonically male character, I never get to see transfem headcanons like that, give me them, and for equality of my own please know estrogen could have saved Insector Haga and Dinosaur Ryuzaki I will not elaborate, also Yuya.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

There has been requests about getting a full body colour for Kook!Ford, so here he is, in all his beige, white, and brown minimalist glory <3 (THERE’S A REASON WHY HE HAS SUCH A BORING PALETTE I PROMISE)

Stupid colour rambles that are WAYY too in depth and probably mostly far fetched but this is my AU and I get to pick how much over-analysis goes into the characters’ colour schemes, fuck you:

Ford:

Characterised by pale, almost pastel-ish colours to emulate a sort of sick, unhealthy look.

The paler colours add to the illusion of Ford lacking presence, almost disappearing into the background, to convey how his existence often ignored or dismissed by most of the townsfolk.

Without any visually striking or contrasting colours in his palette itself, his own features blend into one another, blurring the details and diminishing any identifiable traits that would have typically identified him as Ford, or even a person (<- if that mindfuck of a sentence make any sense)

Hints of yellow to show remnants Bill's past influence on him. Because I’m dramatic like that.

Fiddleford:

Deep, rich forest greens with golden accents (influences of Bill appearing in his outfit) (I need to hammer Fidds out a lil’ more ngl)

Stanley:

Deep, rich blues and purples (opposite spectrum of yellow, aka. Bill's colour, which means = safety to Ford)

The inside lining of his jacket is vivid red, to reference his original colours palette and as a representation of his past self being hidden underneath the layers of his predominantly blue exterior, colours representative of his new identity (also red = warm and blue = cold)

His colours palette will eventually open up into something warmer on the outside, veering into purple.

Extra notes on his character: Stan (in this AU) is colder and quieter than his canon counterpart. After years of being in the mafia business, and years of running it as well, he has long since learned to mask his facial expressions and master the poker face (*cough cough* resting bitch face *cough cough*). But, his intimidating and serious air does not serve him any favours when it comes to literally anything other than his “work”, his inexperience when it comes to emotions all the more apparent with the twins. He has trouble expressing his feelings outwardly, and despises this part of himself, because it reminds him of his own father. He feels as though he is failing the twins by being too cold and distant, and tries his best to open up more.

Mabel:

Maintains her original colours palette with pink, but has more hints of red in her outfit, similar to Stan’s, particularly around her sleeves (allusion to “wearing your heart on your sleeves.” Yes, I know that it’s tacky)

The red shows she is more inclined to trust Stan, as she is willing to see past Stanley’s exterior facade of cold aloofness to see his “true” colours (good HEAVENS that is disgustingly cheesy to say but idk how else to really word this)

Extra notes on her character: Mabel trusts Stan fully. Perhaps a little too much. She I dolises Stan to an almost unhealthy degree, and is constantly plagued with the underlying fear of somehow losing Stan’s “interest”, as their mother seemed to have lost interest in her and Dipper. Deeply fears being abandoned again, and believes she “owes” Stan for having adopted them. She believes it is her fault that neither of their parents wanted the twins during the divorce.

Dipper:

Maintains original colour palette with blues, but pretty solidly lacks red in his outfit. He serves as the opposite spectrum of Mabel, instead being unwilling to fully trust Stan and takes him at face value.

Extra notes on his character: Dipper does not trust Stan, and is far more hyperaware of what kind of “business” their “uncle” runs. He is mostly worried about Mabel’s slight obsession with pleasing him, and fears that if they don’t behave, Stan might use his dangerous power and influence against them. He is convinced that Stan had ulterior motives to adopting them, cannot fathom what he, a seeming stranger with all the power in the world, could possibly hope to gain in adopting two abandoned children. Even more so, when even their parents didn’t seem to want them.

[sitronsangbody]

Warning: this gets grim

I'm up at night thinking about an episode of Supernatural and how it demonstrates some really heinous public attitudes toward fat people.

Mild spoilers for Supernatural season 6 I guess:

Dean Winchester has to take on the job of Death for a day, meaning he has to go to those who are supposedly destined to die, witness their final moments, and give them the touch of death, thus claiming their lives and sending them to the afterlife. He soon struggles to live up to his responsibilities as he's required to end the lives of a sick child and a young nurse. His first two victims, however, don't bother his conscience at all. The first is an armed robber who threatens to shoot a little boy and gets killed by the boy's father. The second is a fat man who has a heart attack.

When I say fat, what I really mean is fat-coded; the man is simply not stick thin in the way that nearly every character on the show is, so he counts as fat and his storyline (minor though it is) is tied to his size. He is in his 50s, maybe early 60s. We first see him wolfing down a cheeseburger, and Dean says "this looks like a heart attack situation", before the man indeed clutches his chest and dies. When he asks why he had to die, Dean's reply is: "you think maybe it was the extra cheese?"

His death is not portrayed as tragic in any way. He himself is only mildly distressed. We don't get to see anyone grieving for him. His death is there to be one of the Easy ones, an unsurprising, almost comical and even deserved(?) death to make Dean think it's not that bad of a gig, ending people's lives. And we, the viewers, are supposed to agree. We're not invited to feel sad for this man in the slightest, even in retrospect. Everyone who created this scene and decided to keep it in the show, believed this to be a normal way to think of a fat person suddenly dying. This came out in 2010.

It just encapsulates so much stuff - really fucking dark stuff, I might add - about how fat lives have been viewed through the years. That scene (and scenes like it) says:

- when fat people die, it's because they brought it on themselves. They are ticking timebombs and their death is expected.

- when fat people die young, no they don't, because being fat means living on borrowed time anyway, so a fat person dying way earlier than the average life expectancy is not tragic the way it is if a thin person does.

- when fat people die, it's definitely because they are fat (and they are fat because they make bad choices).

- when fat people eat what's considered unhealthy food, it's depressing and stupid and they're out of control. Dean Winchester is canonically a big fan of fast food and eats burgers all the time on the show. Because he is thin and fit, this is portrayed as fun, relatable and manly.

- when fat people die, it's not sad.

And like, I wish this was exclusive to fiction, but there are real people who act like this when real fat people die. Like they know why, even if they have no clue, like it shouldn't be shocking, like it's self-inflicted and therefore deserved, and like it probably wasn't much of a life anyway so it's just not that tragic, really.

This stuff is, just for me personally, one of the roughest sides of anti-fatness. When people deny us dignity in death. Partly because it's so ghoulish, and partly because it's so ubiquitous it appears in media like this, without controversy. I'd like to believe there would be stronger reactions had this plotline come out today in 2025, but I am not confident.

[holylulusworld]

Not my Logan (1)

Summary: Problems with the Multiverse suck. Even more when it brings someone back who has been long gone.

Pairing: Worst Wolverine x Immortal!Reader, Deadpool x Reader (platonic or not. You know him.)

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of loss of loved ones, grief, cocky reader, Deadpool being a pain in the ass, violence, mentions of killings, multiverse chaos, world building

A/N: For my story, all X-Men died, except for the reader. She lives in the same universe as Deadpool from DP & Wolverine. I don’t follow canon. Live with it.

Square filled for the Wolverine bingo @buck-star created for me: Square 1: Claws

“WADE! Wade Wilson! Stop right there!” You growl, ready to shoot the bastard breaking into your property. Well, technically it’s not your property. Or it is. Charles left it to you in his will. Not because you were his favorite X-Men, but because you are the last one standing.

You huff before jumping out of the window. Wade would’ve loved to stop and admire your superhero landing, but he’s busy chasing after a very pissed Wolverine.

“Wolvie, stop! She won’t understand! Fuck. Shit. I said, Stop!” Wade takes off his mask. He wheezes because all he did all day was chase after the worst Wolverine. Logan’s words, not his. “HEY! I didn’t tell you about her for you to run off. We still have a job to do!”

“WADE WILSON!” You start to run, seeing Wade kneel on the ground. He still tries to catch his breath as you storm toward him. “I’d kill you but watching you grow legs and arms is disgusting!”

Instead of decapitating his head or stabbing Wade, you slap the back of his head.

“Ouch, Y/N.” He complains loudly. Wade got stabbed and shot; he lost body parts but whines like a baby when you slap him.

“What are you doing here? No one is allowed to come here any longer. You know that.” You sniff when he slowly gets up. “Not since…”

“I get it, I get it!” Wade raises his hands in surrender before turning around to face you. His face is a mess as always, but you can’t help but smile, seeing a familiar face. If you’re honest, he’s the only friend (if you want to call the cocky motherfucker a friend) you’ve got left. “Extinction is hard.”

“What did you say?” You slap him across the face, earning another whine. “You are an insensitive asshole.”

“Sweetheart, we both know you would have outlived all of them, no matter what. It just happened a little earlier this way.” Wade shrugs before putting his mask back on.

You run one hand down your face and huff. “What do you want, Wade? Is the world on fire, or did you lose a ball again?”

“No jokes about a man’s balls,” he points a gloved finger at you. “But yes, the world is ending once again. Or not. I mean… It depends.” Wade babbles as you put your hands on your hips.

“What did you do? I bet you messed with the timeline again, huh?” you snap at Wade. “Because that worked out so well last time. I told you to not fuck with timelines and shit. The dead shouldn’t come back.”

“Oh, about that,” Wade nervously chuckles. “I swear I didn’t resurrect anyone, but…uh…you see. Maybe, and I’m not saying it happened. But maybe I was hopping through different universes to find an anchor to save our universe from destruction.”

“Wade.” You close your eyes and inhale sharply. “Whom did you bring here, and do I have to kill them?”

“No, no! You cannot kill him,” Wade hastily says. “I came here for a short break. You see, bad guys are after our cute asses, and this is the safest place I know.”

“Christ on a cracker, WADE!” You kick his shin. “I’ve been out of this business for years.” You dip your head, hearing someone sneak closer. “Why would you bring anyone here? This is a lost place. Dead and forgotten. Just like me and the rest of the X-Men. Just like—”

Twirling around, you ready yourself to attack the person sneaking toward you and Wade.

Your body goes stiff, and you whimper, facing the man you lost so many years ago.

“No…” You step back and shake your head. “No…no. Wade. Out of all the people you could bring here…you do this to me?!”

“I swear, if I had a choice, I’d never do this to you. But—” Wade sighs and points at the worst Logan, he brought to your universe. “He wouldn’t believe me. Logan said you must be dead here too.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I cannot die. I am…immortal. My Wolverine would know that.”

The man, looking so much like your one true love, dips his head. He has the same body, the same eyes, and the same claws. Hell, he even wears the same fucking suit. But he’s not your Logan. He’ll never be your Logan.

“Go away. Both of you. Whatever will happen to this universe is not my problem. Maybe I can finally rest then too.”

You turn around to walk away, leaving Wade and Logan’s clone behind.

“Wait, Y/N!” Wade jogs after you. “I know you’re angry, but I couldn’t stop him. If there’s only a tiny piece of the undefeatable Y/N still inside of you, help us. Help me save my friends and this world.”

“Your friends,” you say, your heart heavy with sadness and grief. You glance at the photo Wade shows you, swallowing thickly.

“If there was a way to save your friends, you’d do anything, right?” Wade presses on. Even though he knows it’s a low blow, he cannot shelter you or your feelings. You’re his only chance to convince Logan to help him and get his clones off his back. “Please help me…”

“What the fuck is that?” You dip your head to look at the ugliest dog you have ever seen. “Uh—is that thing even alive?” Crouching down, you poke the dog’s nose with your index finger. “Who did this to you, little pug?”

“I think he was born this way?” Wade chuckles while picking the dog up. “And he’s not ugly. Dogpool is the sweetest.”

“Y/N. How?” Logan finally found his voice. He steps closer to you and Wade, not looking you in the eyes. “Why did you do it?!” He yells before jumping at you.

Logan tackles you to the ground to ram his claws into your sides. He growls like an animal, stabbing you again and again.

“What’s his problem?” You laugh as Logan tries to kill you. His claws dig deep into your flesh, but it doesn’t do much damage.

“Uh—from what I heard, you killed his people because he didn’t love you or shit?” Wade shrugs before letting the dog lick his face.

“YOU!” Logan growls. He slides his claws back in to slam his fists into the ground. Again, and again, and again. You can hear bones crack and flesh tear. “Why don’t you die?”

Logan looks at you, shaking his head. “You’re not her…”

“I assume in your world, I was mortal,” you sit up and push Logan away. While you slowly get up, he watches you with tears in his eyes. “In this world, my Logan would’ve cut your head off for touching me.”

“After we introduced ourselves, we should talk about the guys wanting to end this world. Come on, sweetheart. You know you want to help your Deadpool.”

“You’re annoying as fuck,” you huff while rubbing dirt off your ass. “If you keep that thing in line.” You jerk your head toward Logan kneeling on the ground. “We can talk.”

“She’s not her…” Logan repeats. “Not her…”

“You sound like a broken record,” you say and slap the back of Logan’s head. “And for the record, you’re not my Logan either…”

Tags in reblog.

[marvelstars]

I agree.

James didn´t need to become a bully, he could have been like Harry or Ron or bassically any other kid his age, mind his bussines and have fun without hurting people, yet he didn´t and he focused on Severus because he didn´t like the fact the girl he wanted for himself was Severu´s friend. James may have not been a darkarts practicant but it´s hard to ignore one of the reasons he bullied Severus was the fact he tought he was below James and Sirius and so didn´t deserve to have Lily as a friend.

James was a good friend of Sirius, he gave him a home and supported Remus but he and Sirius still used Remus to get their fun putting other people in danger letting him get loose during full moon and when push came to shove Sirius and James doubted Remus precisely for his lycantropy and keep the truth of the secret keeper from him.

Them both were lousy friends of Peter Pettigrew calling him names or thinking he was pathetic and expected his co-dependence with them would lead him to lose his life as SK having Voldemort persecuting him instead of Sirius, they were wrong, they tought real life was like Hogwarts and found out Voldemort wasn´t quite as easy to fool as their teachers or as easy to fight like beating other kids at school. That was a fatal mistake. he keep bullying him even after he and Lily became a couple and this didn´t stop until graduation. That´s the story of canon James with Severus and all the fics in the world can´t change those facts.

I also believe they exaggerate Severus "torture of Harry Potter" yes he was biased agaisnt him and usually listened to his Slytherin students like Draco over Harry and Ron or Hermione when they fought each other but the most Severus ever did to Harry as his teacher was to punish him with detention and usually Harry gave him reasons for this, be it because he stole ingredients from his classroom, was out after hours or put himself in danger when the whole school wanted to protect him from Sirious when they believed he wanted to kill Harry and

If Severus was THAT abusive to Harry as his teacher then Minerva would not have supported Severu´s detentions and even add she would have been more strict than him in one occasion and we saw this, say whatever you want about Snape but he never send Harry, Ron and Hermione to the darkforest as part of their detention, his personality and words may be horrible sometimes but Snape´s main thing/motivation after repenting for becoming a death eater was the fact he keep students safe and he took this duties seriously, yes including Harry.

Harry himself would not have gone out of his way to keep Sirius and Severus from fighting each other if his relationship with Snape was so bad and he only started to truly hate Snape because he blamed him for Sirius and later his parents death.

We have been over this for many years and fandom seems to repeat non-stop the takes they believe will win them arguments but sometimes we just need to read the books again before making more arguements imo.

I cannot believe people let Snape get the high ground.

How do people casually overlook the fact that Snape spent six entire years of his life telling a kid—who never even got the chance to know his father—that said father was an arrogant douchebag? Like, how do people think that behavior is normal?

Snape, a grown man, spent years trying to convince a grieving, orphaned child that his dead father—who literally died protecting his family—was a terrible person. No compassion for a man who gave his life for his wife and son. No sympathy for a kid who grew up abused, unloved, and completely alone, only learning about his parents through stories told by others.

Instead, Snape chose to rehash his teenage rivalry with James Potter by bullying his son. Imagine being so petty that you can’t move past your high school grudges, even when the other person has been dead for over a decade.

Even the coldest, most detached person would muster some respect for a man who died fighting for good. But Snape? No. He chose to sit on his high horse—ignoring the fact that he was once a Death Eater who only changed sides when his own personal interests were threatened—and still had the audacity to act morally superior to James.

James Potter died a hero. Snape, on the other hand, spent his life tormenting the child of the woman he claimed to love—while refusing to let go of a teenage rivalry and weaponizing it against a traumatized, grieving boy.

I cannot get over how utterly selfish and cruel that is. Snape had no empathy for the dead and no sympathy for the living. And people still try to defend him? Seriously?

[girl-lostconnection]

Hello!!!

I’ve been reading your works for a while and I’m hyperfixating adore you’re writings! So I saw this Red Bull ad during the Super Bowl and the penguin reminded me of Soap. Could I please humbly request hybridpenguin!Soap x reader fluff/comfort/romance/head canons anything really. I think you can bring this idea to life :3

It’s your lucky day cause I’ve been watching “Good luck Chuck” and there are some penguins that caught my eye. So I’ve been thinking about it whole day, googling penguins because I honestly don’t know much about them.

I chose Adelie Penguin for Soap because the blue-eyed stare this birds have is perfectly uncanny (I urge you to google them, they stare right in your soul) and also, they have very interesting courting rituals.

Also the wiki page for them said, I quote: “Despite their size, Adélie penguins are known for their bold and boisterous personality and will challenge other animals, including predators far larger than them.” And that reads like canonical Soap, because yeah, he would. Bold personality is right up this man’s alley.

But imagine hybrid Adelie Penguin!Soap and human Reader where he tries so fucking hard to court you properly but you don’t know jackshit about courting methods.

Male Adelie Penguins offer female penguin the perfect stone, polished to perfection, they spend quite some time looking for the best one and once found — they present it as a courting gift. It depends purely on the female penguin whether to accept courtship or not.

But if she does they can start mutual courting involving leaning closer to each other, grooming each other, familiarising with how each other sound — it helps them later to find the mate in the big crowd.

So Soap knows that maybe it would have been better to go with flower or something more conventional but he likes you, god, he really does. So there’s no harm in looking for a pretty stone for a pretty you, right?

Right?

Man spends his whole leave on Scotland’s shores, practically on all fours as he picks up decent stones, washes and polishes them at home before throw them all out because no. All wrong. Not prettty enough, not smooth enough, not shiny enough.

No mate would accept a shite like that, why would he even bring this ugly thing to your attention? What kind of potential mate would he be?

He returns to his searches even more determined. Soap will be damned if he comes back and he still doesn’t have a perfect stone for you.

And finally, luck smiles at him and dedication pays off — the perfect prettiest little stone he has ever seen. Smooth from cold waves, shiny in a way that makes you want it touch again and again, perfectly round. No ridges or bumps, no sharp edges or cracks.

Perfect stone for perfect you.

He returns feeling victorious and on top of the world and presents you with a stone without a second word. Quite literally he just extends his hand and there lies the stone. He doesn’t say anything, he’s just waiting for your reaction

And you have no fucking idea what’s going on, because the man is staring you in the eyes with his ungodly blue eyes and a little stone on his palm and you’re like…okay?:,) alright?🥹

So you take the stone to look closer (Soap tenses up like you have his heart in your hands, eyes hungry on you, still waiting for your reaction) and truth be told, it is a really nice stone. Shiny and smooth and perfectly polished. The kind of stone you’d want to fumble with all day, just rolling through the palm, massaging the center of your palm with it as you work.

It is a bloody lovely stone. You really like it.

But Johnny is not saying it, still watching you with the same hungry look, it’s just that now his grin is widening slowly because you look like you really like the stone. He did a good job, right? There’s no way you found his courting gift lacking.

And it is a perfect stone but the thing is…you don’t know if it’s a gift to you or if penguin part of Soap is simply showing off (crow!Simon does similar things when he brings you shiny stuff). So you don’t know if you are at liberty to keep the shiny pebble.

And Johnny is still completely fucking silent watching you with bated breath.

You carefully place the stone back in his palm, murmuring softly that it’s a very lovely stone, it looks incredible and you think it is absolutely gorgeous.

Soap stares at the stone for a few very long moments, his grin slowly fading because…don’t- don’t you like the stone, hen? You just said it’s gorgeous, but you are giving it back. Why are you giving it back?

He stares at the stone, absolutely crest-fallen in the face because he was so sure you’d like it. He was so proud of it and so excited to give it to you and of course there is no pressure for you to take it, after all it’s gift for you and you shouldn’t just settle for things.

But still.

What was wrong with it? Was there a crack he didn’t notice or is the texture of it not to your liking? Maybe you prefer sharper stones, maybe you like some roughness to them?

He looks back at you, feeling upset and anxious, stone still in hand while you try to gauge what the hell caused the reaction. Because Johnny is looking at you like you just kicked him in the stomach and you don’t know why.

“Ye didnae like it, hen?”, he swallows his pride and asks because obviously, you didn’t, what kind of fucking question is that. Mate just returned his gift back to him, means that gift is not up to standards.

You blink at him slowly, because what is he even talking about.

“I liked it. It’s really pretty. Where did you get it?”, you try to steer conversation away, since maybe there’s something you don’t seem to get about the stone.

“Why- ye didnae take it”, Soap’s voice is unusually soft, as he tilts his head to the side, stone clutched in his hand as some anxiety bleeds out of him.

Maybe he can still salvage it.

“Was it for me?”, the question leaves him now being the one who gives you a slow blink, before his gears kick in, realisations slowly creeping up his head. So that’s what was wrong.

“Aye”, stone returns to your palm, gets pressed into it by Johnny’s — warm and smooth — your heart skipping a beat. “If ye like it, Ah’d be happy if ye took it. But ainlie if ye like it, hen”

There’s a weight to this moment that you aren’t sure you capture fully but there’s something in Soap’s eyes that makes your fingers intertwine with his, head leaning closer to him. You are so close you can see the tiniest freckles on his cheeks.

Pretty.

“I really like it”, admitting it feels like you are ten again and sharing a silly secret with a boy you like, but Johnny looks at you like he couldn’t be happier.

His throat bobbing when you lean in closer, small shiver going down his spine because it’s really happening. His gift is accepted, his mate is accepting him — holding his hand, leaning into him, looking at him like that.

Best day of his life, truly.

So he presses a short tight kiss to your temple and nods at you like there is a shared understanding between you two now. Like you are partners in crime.

Soap practically jogs away, excitement evident in every step, shoulders spread out proudly. He fucking did it. He got the perfect stone for perfect you and you accepted it.

Now, the courting can really begin.

(It will take you an evening of google searches before you understand the meaning of the stone and why the hell, Soap is helping with your hair routine/skin care routine/nail polishing and even offers to “wash with the penguin, save the water, hen”)

[hisirishsoufflegirl]

Tea Is A Love Language ~ A.H x Reader

A/N (wow I haven’t wrote that in years): Hi! I’m back (says them to people who did not even realise they stopped writing lmao). There’s been an Aaron Hotchner x You slow burn fic brainstorming away whenever I’ve been rewatching Criminal Minds for the past few years so I thought I’d make a comeback to write a sample entry (that takes place a bit into the actual fic) to see what everyone thinks, aha.

CW/Context: Aaron and Hayley are divorcing/there’s no Emily(sorry!)/Aaron being grumpy but then surprisingly sweet/Reid and reader are best friends/Morgan and reader are very close due a traumatic past/Aaron gave a private lil sweet pep talk to reader when they got overwhelmed after the college campus murders/the timeline is a bit jumbled but it’ll be easier to follow/explained in full fic/in canon mentions of violence/I’m rusty at this, forgive me

-

A sigh. Then a smacking sound as the paper contents of a file hit the desk.

“Who’s up for a drink?” Morgan stood up. Eyebrows raising as if a lightbulb flashed atop his head, he turned. “Actually.. who’s up for five?”

The man didn’t need to ask you twice. Nights out drinking with Morgan were always the safest. Sure, they were wild and chaotic.. but you always knew you would get home and you always knew you’d never wake up the next morning fearing you did something you regret. It was funny. One of the men who inspired you to join the Academy and pursue this as a career was not only now a colleague but a friend. A close friend at that. Your letters containing updates on your life since that awful period of your life when you were 18 were more for Gideon’s sake. Though that didn’t mean Derek never checked up on you throughout the years that led to you surprising the agent the day it was announced a new member was joining the team and in you walked into the table meeting.

“I don’t know..” your best friend trailed off, his focus on fixing the contents of his brown satchel.

You got up from your desk, the one attached to Spencer’s, shouldering your own bag. “Nuh-uh, Spence. You’re coming.” You looked up at him, trying your hardest to use your eyes to silently beg to coax him out.

It worked. It always worked. Reid hated nights out, especially Morgan’s definition of a night out, but you knew you made it tolerable for him. Many a night of drinking you sat with the doctor, letting him ramble off about statistics or Star Trek and often debating the one topic you yourself did know about - Doctor Who. You didn’t know why some of the others treated listening to his interests and rambles as almost a chore. You had always found them interesting and besides, how could someone not take an interest in what their best friend cared about?

“.. you’re still cosplaying at comic con with me, right?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed at you.

“Of course.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

You mouthed a “thank you” at him, your hand coming up to touch his elbow as a comfort as you both walked to join Morgan and Rossi heading towards the door.

“JJ?”

“Ugh, I’d love to but.. gonna have to take a rain check.” the blonde woman grimaced, picking up her share of files.

You felt someone brush past you as they hurried towards the glass door of the bullpen. You turned your head, realisation hitting you that it was your Unit Chief. You hadn’t properly spoken one on one to the man ever since the day the team was about to leave Flagstaff, Arizona. There had been a spree killer on a college campus, murdering women who were very similar in age to you and it brought back some painful memories. Painful memories as well as a feeling of guilt that you had survived your own attack and had went on to go and finish college. A privilege that those victims never got to make a reality. You had stepped away for a moment to compose yourself back at the hotel while the other agents were packing to go home when Hotch had appeared beside you. You had been sure you were to be scolded for being too soft or for your exterior slipping, a worry that was all too evident as you had tried to quickly wipe your tear away and swallow the ache in the back of your throat. But no. He had been kind. Really kind. The conversation had not been long, nor did the comforting hand on your arm to gesture you back to the hotel to leave linger, but it had helped.

“Hotch, you up for a beer?” the Italian man extended the invitation to his friend.

Hotch stopped in his tracks, his eyes flickering to the side as he pondered his answer. He decided with a sigh. “Sure.” He turned and you offered an awkward smile when his eyes settled on you.

“Agent Hotchner.” came the suited man with a clipboard and envelope into the room through the glass doors.

Breathing in, Hotch’s eyes looked away from you as he turned. “Yes?”

The man presented him with the clipboard and a pen to sign for the brown envelope.

Hotch’s eyes shifted down to it and his body stiffened slightly with a sharp intake of breath.

You had never seen Hotch display a crack in his exterior like that before. I wonder what’s in that envelope. You thought.

Breaking the silence, you sucked your lower lip in - a tell, you had been told by one of your profiler buddies, that you felt awkward and anxious. “What is it?”

Your boss stared down at the envelope, his fingers subconsciously kneading the paper. That’s one of *his* tells, you surmised, whatever it is it’s bothering him.

He finally glanced up at you through dark eyelashes, a look of defeat in those dark eyes. “Hayley’s filing for divorce. I’ve been served.”

Fuck. Fuck. You fucked up.

You watched as Hotchner took a final look at the contents in his hands before walking away, no longer feeling up to a fun and happy night.

~

“McCoy Boy! How was Connecticut?” You greeted Spencer as you, Morgan, JJ and Rossi piled back into the bullpen. You dropped your bag onto your chair and circled round to the opposite side of the desk to throw your arms loosely round the genius’ neck and shoulders. You never took advantage of the privilege of being the only one Reid allowed to casually touch him like this but now didn’t count. You had missed him. While you were in Indianapolis helping Rossi catch the monster that haunted him and three siblings, your best friend and your Unit Chief were in Connecticut interviewing a death row inmate.

Spencer rested his hand on one of your arms as you squeezed him, propping his book down on his desk. “Ultimately uneventful.”

You shifted your head from the top of Reid’s curly mop to his temple. “Fill me in anyway.”

Spence chuckled before turning his gaze at Rossi. “Uh sir, there’s someone waiting to speak to you in your office.”

You pulled back to crane your neck behind you. Sure enough, Kevin Lynch stood in the doorway to the office at the end of the walkway.

You focused on JJ’s face as Kevin talked, a face barely containing her smile and giddiness. Your eyebrows furrowed confused and as Rossi walked past to talk ‘man-to-man’ with the tech analyst, you mouthed ‘what??’ to the blonde.

JJ raised her eyebrows suggestively at you as she swivelled to walk away. “Garcia and Kevin sittin’ in a tree..”

Morgan’s mouth dropped open. “Get out of here.”

“Wait, what? What?” the brown eyed genius piped up, confusion and anxiety about missing a clue seeping in his voice.

“Didn’t you hear the song, love?” You asked your friend, your left arm still leaning on the back of his office chair for standing support.

“The song meant something? No, I missed it!” Reid grew frantic. Adorable.

“Yeah, it..” you trailed off as your eyes looked around the room as you looked up. They landed on the dark haired man in his pristine suit, shoulders tense as he hunched over his desk, one hand resting on his forehead.

He looks so stressed.

You sucked in your lower lip. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” You ruffled the top layer of Spencer’s brown curls. “I’ll explain it later.”

You moved your duffel bag onto the floor underneath your desk and settled in your chair. Every instinct in you was screaming to check in on your boss. That’s just the type of person you were and your instincts never did you wrong. You had gone on gut instinct when you asked Spencer what was causing him to struggle which eventually led to him going to rehab. You had listened to your instinct when it told you to gather up Morgan and JJ to join Rossi in Indianapolis a few days ago. But this was Hotch. This was your boss. You had never seen the man crack a smile let alone open up about his feelings.

Leaning your chin on your hand, your head twisted to look at the environment behind your desk. Looking behind you had become a habit since you were a teenager, even when your body knew it was in a safe environment such as the bullpen. But old habits die hard and listen, it was a habit that kept you alive in the field. Funny that. You’d think someone with that self preservation habit would run away from situations that posed a threat, not run to them. And certainly not make a career out of solving them.

Your eyes landed on the coffee machine set up and kettle sat on the communal kitchen countertop.

Hmm. Too late for coffee. You hummed. Hold on..

You swung your legs out from under your desk, pushing yourself up and away from your desk and headed towards the communal kitchen. The plethora of jars containing coffee grounds - the jar with the brown and gold label was Reid’s only go to - and sugar - the plastic tub of aspartame was JJ’s - littered the counter. But you weren’t looking for the coffee. Stretching up on your tiptoes, you opened up each cupboard. You searched the top two before bending down to view the contents of the bottom ones.

A-ha! Found you. You took out the green box praying it wasn’t empty and silently thanked God when it wasn’t. Plopping one of the tea bags into the clean ecru mug you found, you filled the kettle in the sink and flicked on the switch.

As the water boiled, you dared to glance to your right at Hotch’s office. You didn’t think it was possible but the man looked even more stressed. The noise of the kettle turning off drew your attention and you poured the hot liquid into the mug, pressing the teabag to the sides of the mug with the spoon before scooping it up and binning it in the pedal bin. Stealing the last of the semi skimmed milk from the fridge, you trickled some of it into the tea before stirring. Dropping the spoon into the sink promising to clean it in a few minutes, you grasped the handle of the cup and headed towards the steps to the walkway.

Your feet reached the closed door to the office and your knuckles rapped against the wood.

“Come in.” He sounds tired.

Careful not to spill the tea, you pushed the handle of the door down and the door opened. Hotch glanced up. Twice. Once out of habit. The other a double take. His head left his hand and he placed his pen down on the case files in front of him. You could tell he was trying to figure out what you were doing in his office, it was obvious in his eyes. For a man so expressionless, his eyes were always so expressive.

You realised you had been staring at him for probably a bit too long and shifted your eyes down to the mug in your right hand, your other hand clasping round it for the excuse of holding something as a distraction. You lightly tapped your ring against the porcelain as you tried to word your sentence in your head before your mouth could get you into trouble. The action had Hotch’s gaze look down at your hands, something you noticed he did often. You had a habit of fiddling with one of your rings when you wanted to say something but were deciding if you should or not. It usually ended in Hotch noticing and asking you your opinion on the topic at hand.

You took a breath in. “Sir, if I had known.. I wouldn’t have asked about the envelope in front of everyone.“

“Y/L/N-“ Hotch sat upright in his chair.

“Anyway, I uh, I’m not going to ask you to talk about it.” You reassured him, cutting him off. Still looking at the mug in your hands, you continued. “I just want you to know that you’re not alone in this. I, the team, will support you in any way we can.”

You could feel your heart speeding in your chest, you were sure your boss could even hear the thumping. You risked looking up. The usually stoic man’s gaze softened, his forehead smoothing out. Maybe Hotch wasn’t so scary all the time.

“My mother always liked to show it with tea,” You remembered the mug in your hands. Probably should explain that, yeah. “And it’s what I know so.. uhm..” You shuffled forward closer to his desk and settled the cup on top of the dark wood. Stepping back, your hands went to the back of your trouser legs.

Hotch stared at you, his expression not giving anything away. “You didn’t have to.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Think of it as repaying the favour.”

You watched as those big dark eyes softened, gaze switching to the mug now sat on his desk. Giving an tight lipped smile, you nodded awkwardly and turned to leave. You didn’t wanna overstay your welcome. As your hand reached for the door, your name being called stopped you in your tracks. Not your last name. Your name.

“Y/N?”

You turned, surprised at the switch from your surname to your first name. Hotch called everyone by their surnames, even Rossi sometimes. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.” He meant that. Sincerely.

You tried to stop the smile etching its way onto your face. You felt bold. “Don’t mention it.. Aaron.”

Hotch - Aaron cracked a small smile. A tiny quirk of his lips. You nodded at each other, your hand closing the door behind you as you left the office.

Taking the steps down to your desk, you didn’t see Hotch bring the mug to his lips, taking a swig. His eyebrows raised in approval. Another swig. Leaning back in his chair, he inhaled, looking to his left to watch the bullpen out of his office window. He spotted you carrying case files back to your desk, engrossed in conversation with Reid.

He sighed, his attention turning back to his desk, pausing before opening the drawer next to him. His fingers hovered over a brown envelope, picking it up and sliding the contents of it out in front of him. Taking a breath and another swig of tea, Hotch picked back up his pen and signed his name on the dotted line.

[zeropro]

can i kindly ask for a summary of how time is measured in your au? mostly the cycle/year stuff, im not sure if it's lifted from elsewhere or your own creation — either way i think it's really cool :) world building is awesome

very sorry if you've already gone over this elsewhere

Oh sure! I spent way too long figuring this out so i might as well explain it.

The cybertronian calendar goes in one direction forever unless a new Prime decides to reset it. Nova Prime reset the calendar when he declared the new Golden Age of Expansion, which is why Megatron’s canon Birthday is so small (1st cycle 012) as he was among the first Cold Constructed mechs onlined, and that started with Nova.

The only unit of measurement that we seem to have solidified is Vorns, which is 83 earth years (earth years=stellar cycle). The calendar’s cycles are measured by vorn, the first number counts vorn, and every 24 vorn the second number ticks up. after 24th cycle 12 it would become 1st cycle 013 and then 2nd cycle 013.

There…actually is no unit of time for the second measurement as far as I can tell, so I have no idea what to call it, but essentially you would say Megatron’s birthday as first cycle O’twelve, and people would know he was born 23904-ish years after Nova Prime’s calendar went in effect.

24 vorns is roughly 2000 years and every 500 dates on the calendar is roughly one million years.

I developed this calendar system based on the actual dates we do have in IDW1, I decided 24 vorns are when the calendar turns over because the war starts about a million years after Megatron’s birth and the canon dates for most of those events are in the 500s. I did have to ignore the single canon date set in the 51st cycle for this, but all the other dates are within the 1 to 14 range. And this is taking into consideration that the calendar probably reset some time under Zeta Prime (which is why the Battle of Sherma Bridge where Megatron and the newly anointed Optimus Prime allegedly duked it out for the first time happens in 2nd Cycle 087 even tho Megatron was beat up by Whirl in jail before the war in 4th Cycle 496). Some of the inconsistencies I also chalk up to some bots still using the old calendar. the only date I really cant figure out is 6th Cycle 356 being confirmed to be “half a million years ago” like?? Eh?? Ultra Magnus’ last fatality was pre earth pretty sure and that happened in the 3800’s (of nova’s calendar pretty sure). Maybe they missed a zero at the end of the date or something idk XD 3560 would make so much more sense for half a million years ago.

Also, 83 years is a long time and it does seem like they have smaller units of dating called chords and arcs but I just assume thats like days and months to us and I cant be bothered to figure it out. not enough info about it anyway. I’m sure one of those tracks stellar cycles and the other tracks cybertronian days.

i think the only other unit of time I've used is deca-cycles, just cuz I like how it sounds. a deca-cycle is about a month, or three weeks.

Megatron and Skywarp were constructed earlier on (012 and 023 respectivly), Thundercracker was constructed closer to when the matrix “ran dry” probably in the 100s, and Starscream was commissioned by Cryak at the end of the millenia, in the late 400s, after they’d stopped constructing seekers entirely. He must not have been more than a few vorns old when he met Thundercracker.

Starscream and Skyfire’s expedition would have taken them 40 on the calendar to get to earth, based on Skyfire’s shuttle speed. Starscream probably would have been able to make it back to cybertron a little bit faster.

I referenced this and this page of the wiki while working on this. Most of my worldbuilding is extrapolation from canon.

yes i did all this for one joke.

A few more timeline stuff: Megatron is about .7 million years older than Starscream, and Starscream is about half a million years older than the start of the war. The war lasted 3 million years before they crash landed on earth after which they went into stasis for one million years. Some time after they landed on earth, Shockwave successfully clones Sunstorm.

and in case you were wondering, sunny's serial code is referencing his Collector's Edition toy's ID number (089). SC stands for Seeker Class. they run out of glyphs slots after 999 so they sort them into batches. Sunny is the 089th frame built in batch 16. whether that means his frame was already built and left empty in storage somewhere and then repurposed by Shockwave, or Shockwave built him from scratch based on the blueprints and just continued the serial code sequence, I haven't decided. but either way, it means there was a finite number of seekers brought into the world and they dont even make up a whole united states city's worth of people. Lots of them are dead by now anyway. The whole cybertronian race is so small now they are all on first name bases with each other XD. But i digress, none of that has to do with time or calendar stuff, just thought it was fun.

thanks for asking!!

[antianakin]

See, but this is why I don't say "the Jedi failed" ever. Because even if you say it with sympathy, it's an inherently negative statement. More people will view it the unsympathetic way than the sympathetic one. And you CAN describe it in other ways that are inherently more sympathetic towards the Jedi. "The Jedi were tricked." "The Jedi were betrayed." "The Jedi nearly won, and one person's selfish choice doomed them all." Or in the case of the corrupt government thing, "The Jedi were protecting as many innocent people as they could." "The Jedi stuck with the system that had allowed them to help as many people as possible in the past." "The Jedi were the only ones really taking any canonical action against said corrupt government TO BEGIN WITH, and they get criticized for doing that too."

I don't mind having the conversation about how the Jedi's choices were all bad, I don't mind discussing how the Jedi had to infringe on their own morals in order to protect people, I don't mind discussing the fact that they DID lose, but by phrasing it as "They failed" I feel like it inherently puts the responsibility ON THEM when that's never the point and it's never true. The Jedi failed only in the sense that they lost. They did everything right. They fought the war, they protected as many people as possible, they took out all the enemy leaders, they recognized the corruption in their OWN leader and the inevitable consequences if he remained in power, and then they made moves to remove said corruption so that the government could try to become LESS corrupt, and the ONLY REASON that this doesn't work is because Anakin chose to betray them all. That's it. That's the reason they lose. One person's selfish greed. If Anakin had been like two minutes slower in getting to that office, the Jedi would've won. Palpatine would be dead, the Separatists would have lost, the war would've been over. Even if Palpatine's stooges had tried to continue it, I don't think it would've lasted very long given that everyone actually running things from both sides would've been gone. The Jedi would've still been around, the clones wouldn't have been turned against them, and this would give the Republic a pretty major advantage. And if we bring in the Loyalists in the Senate, Palpatine's death gives an opportunity for them to step in and make changes they couldn't have made before perhaps.

But by starting with "The Jedi failed," it just removes all of that nuance from the conversation for me. They DIDN'T fail. ANAKIN failed. If you don't start with it being ANAKIN'S choice and ANAKIN'S responsibility and ANAKIN'S failure, then it scrapes away all of the things that make the story meaningful. It was not and is not and has never been the story of how the Jedi failed. It's the story of how ANAKIN failed (and the OT is the story of how Luke succeeds where Anakin failed). Making it about the Jedi's failure is just inaccurate and removes the focus of the story from where it's supposed to be. As relatable and sympathetic as Anakin is meant to be, as much as he is ostensibly supposed to be "trying", it's still his failure, and no one else's. That's the story.

But by saying "The Jedi failed," that story goes away. It's gone now. Because no one reading that statement is ever going to read it sympathetically. And it's a particularly unsympathetic way of describing what happened anyway. So I don't say it. Because I find it super unhelpful to say it when it doesn't accurately get across what the story is. The Jedi didn't failed. The Jedi WERE failed, by everyone else, everyone around them, everyone they should've been able to trust. The galaxy failed. The Jedi just... lost.

When it comes to Jedi discourse I think a lot depends on the amount of sympathy behind a statement there is. For example, "The Jedi have been corrupted by this war." is something Lucas has said, but it's in the context of how they were drawn into a trap, they were forced into roles that they were never meant to be, there's sympathy there for how the only choices here are shitty ones. "Do they compromise their morals (to fight in this war) or does everyone die and it's pointless anyway?" is basically what he said. I agree with that! But I have seen many people say, "The Jedi became corrupted by the war." and they mean it as the Jedi no longer cared about people, only themselves, they were only looking out for themselves, they were making selfish choices. There's no sympathy for the rock-and-a-hard-place situation the Jedi were in, and I disagree with that and I think that's what a lot of people are arguing back against. "They allied themselves with a corrupt government!" is another one--like, yeah, the Republic government wasn't great! But, when I say that the Separatists were worse, it's not because I'm refusing to admit the Republic had any fault, I'm saying it because that's basically the choice laid out in front of them--either you help the Republic or you let the Separatists take over, who were committing war crimes on screen. I do think the Jedi were hamstrung by their connection to the Republic! I just also think the alternative was worse, that the whole structure of Star Wars as a story was designed to hem them into this impossible choice (in as much as Star Wars is about the Jedi, when they're very much not the core of the story), that they couldn't find better options because the story wasn't set up to allow that. Could the Jedi have handled Anakin better? Ehhh, I think that's hard to say because the story itself doesn't present that, so making hard proclamations about what they did/didn't do wrong is reading into something the story didn't address. The story is about Anakin refusing to emotionally accept Jedi teachings--can we read beyond that and say there were ways the Jedi failed him? I think you can and some of them are fair (and some of them aren't), that it's a fun conversation to have, but that it's not what the narrative intention is, if we're talking about actual narrative intention. The narrative intention is that Anakin, though very human in his failings and Lucas clearly has so much affection for his Blorbo, failed to learn what he needed to learn. But there, too, I think a lot depends so much on how much sympathy comes across for the choices being made. I don't think we're meant to see Anakin as someone we can't relate to, Lucas even says that Anakin is a victim in TPM (of the Hutts and Watto, to be clear), I don't think criticism of Anakin can come without that he was trying, that he did genuinely love people. The ending of ROTJ doesn't work without us wanting for Anakin to find the good in himself! That we knew had to be there all along. So much comes down to how much sympathy there is in the criticism, how much sympathy there is for the reasons why any given character chooses the paths they do, and that's where a lot of disconnect comes from. So much Jedi criticism is done in the vein of saying, "They failed." and meaning it as an accusation of how a better choice was super obvious. But if you say, "They failed." in the sense that there was no way out of the trap that they could have possibly forseen, given the circumstances, that they did their best and they shouldn't have to be perfect to be good, then I'm all the way onboard! It's about how much sympathy there is for the context around a given character's choices and what the story allowed for them. I have no issue with saying the Jedi failed in the war, that they became corrupted by it, that their connection to the Republic led to their genocide, because I don't think the Jedi were bad for it, I think they made the best choices they could in the worst situation.

[buddiebeginz]

There's been a lot of discussion lately about when will Eddie come out and when Buddie canon will happen. I think a lot more people are feeling optimistic that it actually will happen now so the conversation has shifted into people being worried how this is all going to play out. I've seen people saying that if Eddie comes out and Buddie is fully confirmed this season (i.e. they confess their feelings/ there's a kiss) that would be way too fast. I have some issues with that line of thinking though.

For starters after Buck came out in season 7 we had a lot of new people join fandom (even more join during the summer hiatus), which I'm glad for all the new people who have found 911 particularly because the majority are now rooting for Buddie. Still I feel like a lot of the newer fan's opinions (on this topic) are being heard over some of us who have been in fandom for years.

I'm not saying if you're a newbie that your opinions on the show don't matter but I do think you should take the time to listen to those of us who have been around longer. The fact is if us long time Buddie fans hadn't been rooting for this ship for years we wouldn't even be as close to them becoming canon as we are. Buck likely wouldn't have had his bi awakening if not for us either. We've supported the show and pushed them for years to give these characters the storylines they deserve. That should matter when you're talking about something like how and when Buddie canon will happen.

I understand that people want Buddie to get together in just the right way but I think we all need to realize there is no one right way this will happen. We need to make peace now before it happens that there will be things about them coming together we won't expect even things we may not exactly like. All that matters is they finally get to take their relationship to that next level. That both Buck and Eddie get to realize their person their soulmate has always been right beside them. The other mains have had their person for years it's beyond time for Buck and Eddie to (consciously fully) have that too.

-----

I've seen people say that Eddie deserves a long journey to figuring out his sexuality and he needs to work on his mental health before being with Buck. And while I do think Eddie deserves more focus and screen time I don't see 911 doing a long drawn out thing with him. 911 typically does smaller 1-3 ep arcs for their characters. There's also the fact that they've been dropping hints for Eddie's coming out these past two seasons. Ones I'm positive they will connect back to other things throughout the series, like why it never worked out with him in his relationships with women.

I'm also personally not a fan of the logic that someone needs to do all these things to change themselves to be ready for love. Buck and Eddie have seen each other through their best and their worst. The show has literally made it a point to tell you that's what love is on numerous occasions. They said that love is about stepping into someone's mess with them. Why is it that Bobby didn't need to be a perfect person before he was worthy of Athena's love? Go back and watch season 1 Bobby was not in a good place when they got together. He was getting better but he was still struggling and up until the end of the season was still thinking about ending his life. But we see Athena "step into the mess" with him. She starts by going to church with him and we see them in s2 (early on in their relationship) talk about his past at different times.

I just feel like this fandom sometimes holds Eddie to unfair standards. He's been struggling for the past couple of seasons but I honestly think we're going to find out in 8b that it's connected to him having not felt able to live his truth. We saw in 806 that Eddie is starting to embrace joy and taking steps to fully be himself. That he's starting even in small ways to take ownership of what he wants and doing things for himself not because he feels obligated to.

I think him going back to Texas is not just to get Chris but the shows way of giving him a rebirth of sorts. They're bringing him back to where he's from and it's where I think Eddie is going to realize who he is and what he wants (Buck) and that him and Chris don't belong in Texas they belong in LA with Buck and the rest of their found family. And this time Eddie will get to make the decision to leave not based on fear or desperation or running away from his life but based on knowing where he truly belongs.

I know there's also a worry that if Eddie comes out in 8b it will feel rushed but the length of the story being told shouldn't be the main concern it should be how well the show tells it.

They could have him realize his feelings for Buck (because I do think him figuring out his sexuality is going to be tied to that) while he's still in Texas. That could be one whole episode just Eddie (like they did for Bobby in s7) or have it play out over a few eps. Then Eddie comes home and Buddie canon happens by the end of s8. I also feel like people are forgetting we have quite a few eps for 8b left to go so it's not like Eddie coming out and Buddie canon are both going to happen in 1 or 2 eps right after the other. It's very likely Eddie realizing his feelings will happen earlier and Buddie canon will happen in one of the last eps of the season.

Also even if they have Eddie come out in one ep that doesn't mean it's the end of him ever talking about his sexuality or facing any struggles with it. We haven't seen Buck facing much struggle when it comes to his sexuality but I think it will be different with Eddie. Even if Buddie officially get together in s8 in s9 we could still see things like Eddie having mixed feelings over being out especially when it comes to stuff like pda. Maybe we could even see Eddie talking to the priest again. Eddie coming out and Buddie canon happening doesn't mean it's the end of Eddie's sexuality journey it's just the beginning.

Like I said before we need to make peace that every part of these stories isn't going to make everyone happy but I think the last thing we should be doing when Eddie comes out and Buddie canon happens is look for reasons to criticize the show for how it happens. They will inevitably receive hate from bummys and people who will accuse them of making the show too gay. We can't add to that by complaining that a storyline didn't happen in a perfect way. If they actually finally go there with these characters we need to celebrate the show and be louder with our praise than any bs they'll get.

-----

On the subject of Buddie I've seen people say that if they confess their feelings for one another by the end of 8b it will feel rushed that the general audience won't get what's happening because the show hasn't set the groundwork for their relationship. I feel like I'm seeing this argument more from newer fans which I guess makes sense because to you it probably does seem like everything is moving fast. But for those of us who have watched Buck and Eddie's relationship develop over years and years this has all been a long long time coming in fact it's beyond overdue.

Some of you need to remember that Buck was supposed to come out in s4 (the shooting was likely to be the catalyst to him realizing his feelings for Eddie) and Eddie in s5 which means Buddie canon was likely to happen that same season. How can s8 be too soon when they were supposed to get together three seasons ago? They have literally been through almost everything Madney and Bathena have been through or some variation thereof. If Buck and Eddie were a straight couple they would have been married already. Buck and Eddie have spent 7 years building their relationship. Building a life and family together. Them finally admitting they're in love with each other is simply the natural progression their relationship should be taking from best friends (that have always been more than friends) to lovers. I think another reason people question if it's too fast for this to happen in s8 is because a queer couple like this has never happened on a show like 911 before. There's been plenty of slow burn straight couples. Which is why I'm positive if Buck and Eddie were a guy and a girl there wouldn't be this big debate over if it should happen now, people would be saying what the hell is this show even doing? Why haven't they kissed already?

-----

A big point about all of this that I feel like is being left out of the discussions is that 911 is made in the US and is first and foremost made for US audiences. I bring this up because as someone who is from the states it's very apparent there's a huge uprising of anti lgbtq rhetoric and legislation here right now. I know it probably seems unfathomable to some people that the US government could do something like ban lgbtq people from TV but there's already been pushes to ban things like lgbtq books on a state level so it could happen. But what is more likely is networks and companies have already started to capitulate to trump to protect themselves and their money. We have no way of knowing how bad things will continue to get with trump and how a network like ABC will behave in the future. We don't have the luxury to sit back and say let's wait until s9 or 10 for Buddie to officially get together when there's no certainty of what will even be happening in the US by the time those seasons are made.

Connected to that same topic of what's going on not just in the US but in other countries too. This attack on lgbtq rights means it's more important than ever for Buddie to finally be together. I know that 911 has always had queer characters and ships and they should always be respected for the important representation they've given on the show since day one (particularly characters like Henren and their family) but Buck and Eddie are ground breaking in a way we really haven't seen on TV before. Two men who are best friends and who have come out later in life. Who have fallen for each other over years of building their relationship. Who have spent years raising their son together. Who are an interracial couple. Buck and Eddie in a loving relationship together as a family with Chris is vital representation the world needs to see right now. That lgbtq people need to see. We need to see more depictions of queer joy in the face of all of this hate.

-----

I see people keep pushing back the time frame of when Buddie should officially get together when we were in s7 people were saying s8 now I've seen them say s9, I've even seen some people recently say s10. I need some of you to realize 911 is a network TV show and that this isn't the golden age of TV anymore. TV shows get canceled left and right sometimes for no reason at all. 911 itself was canceled from Fox after s6 not because no one was watching it but because Fox felt it was too expensive to make. 911 is a super successful show one that will likely go on to it's 9th season and that's an amazing thing when a lot of shows now barely even make it past like two seasons. But because 911 is so many seasons in and is so costly not just to make but also for the cast that means there's always a risk that it could get canceled again. I hope that 911 goes on for at least 10 more seasons but we can't guarantee that at all. The more we push Buddie back the more we run the risk of them not happening at all.

The other thing is I don't want Buddie canon happening at the end of their last season. I want to see how Buck and Eddie's relationship develops and changes once they're officially together. I want to see all the good and bad stuff they go through like moving in together and telling everyone (especially Chris). I want to see how their parents react. How that changes things for them at work. They deserve to have an epic love story just as grand as any of the other main couples have had.

To add to the point of us not knowing how long the show may go on for we also have no idea how long all of the actors plan to stay with the show. I'm not sure how long the contracts they've all signed are for at this point but they've all been with the show a very long time. It's clear they all love working together and I can't see any of them giving that up right now but that could change. We're lucky that Oliver and Ryan have continued to stay with the show after this many years but we can't guarantee they will stay forever. Eventually they could want to go off and work on something else or just get tired of playing the same character. The fact is everything is in the right place at the right time for Buddie canon to happen now. It has to happen now or it may not happen at all.

Also as much as some of you want them to drag out Buck and Eddie getting together I think you underestimate how long the fanbase is willing to hang on for. Like I said some of us have been waiting for Buddie to happen for years we're tired. I almost stopped watching the show after s6 I was that fed up with how they handled things. I'm positive if something doesn't change by the end of s8 that there are people who will stop watching.

I know some have said they want to see Buck and Eddie realizing their feelings and going into s9 pinning. I don't think the show needs to drag out their will they/won't they any longer. I've seen some people say well Buddie hasn't really had a will they/won't they because it wasn't explicit in the show. Buck and Eddie have never been written as just friends. Go compare them to Chim and Hen's friendship. There has always been more there between them always. Again if this was a straight couple people would be complaining constantly wondering why they weren't together yet. They don't have to be kissing for it to be a slow burn. They've done everything but though. I mean what do you call that scene in the kitchen in 3x09? Eddie literally put Buck in his will. He told Buck he trusts him above anyone else with Chris. Buck sobbed when he knew Eddie was going to be okay after he was shot (he's never reacted that way over anyone else on the show getting hurt). Eddie counted the seconds when Buck wasn't breathing. These two men love one another they just haven't admitted it yet.

We don't need more time to tell this story. 911 hasn't always gotten it right (see the weird Vertigo story) but when it's good it can be fcking amazing. The shooting eps are some of my fav eps of tv ever and not just of 911. I have faith in Tim and the show. Tim has wanted to put Buck and Eddie together for a long time and I know he knows he only has one chance to tell this story and get it right. I have faith that him and the actors and writers will do the story justice however it gets told. I know they know it means a lot to so many people. And you know the truth is we're lucky that our ship is even at this point. That we can all debate about how Buddie canon should happen because we're all so sure now that it is in fact happening. Cause the show was very close to ending on a finale that had Buck and Eddie ending up with other partners. Buddie would have only been able to continue to live on in fanon. Instead I truly believe we are months away from the show making history.

[43501]

Opened my copy of Another Note: The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases for the first time in a decade and man, I forgot this is a goldmine of info and Mello characterization. It lets us know what kind of person Mello is almost more than the source material. Every time he's on panel/screen he's always so intense, it's fascinating to see him write and kind of get this feeling of "oh, he is also a normal guy outside of those situations".

He says he had one extensive in-person meeting with L, which is backed up by this other post of mine where I point out that, in the anime at least, Mello references having spoken to L personally. If we take it as canon it means L and Mello met at some point between Kira emerging and L leaving England for Japan.

He expresses a strong sense he might die. I've seen people say that he's "narrating from beyond (heh) the grave" and it's nonsensical, but that's not what's happening here. He's just writing while anticipating his death and writing as if these notes may be discovered posthumously.

He thinks that, in the event he dies, Near is the one who will discover his writings. This is interesting to me because it suggests Mello either knows Near knows his whereabouts, or would figure it out and recover his belongings. I actually think this is outright supported by canon - we see Near eating Mello's chocolate in the manga's epilogue. I don't think he instructed his staff to go out and buy that same chocolate, I think that's straight up Mello's stash.

At some point he started identifying less with the "Mello" alias and calling himself Mihael.

He's so sentimental... ending the prologue simply with "Good memories and nightmares". Bro.

"Imagine you were going to kill someone. What do you think would be the most difficult part? .... The correct answer: killing someone." Damn, I love you Mello lol. Also fascinating when you remember that he achieved his status in the mafia by beheading someone. Yes, he would know how hard it is to kill a person.

Mello states that he and Near belong to the "fourth generation" of Wammy's House kids.

He expresses open sympathy for Beyond and his state, twice... based on his own narration and how he portrays B in the course of the story, he definitely relates to B's emotions.

"Perhaps these gods actually wanted a blood soaked world of betrayal and false accusation. Perhaps the entire episode exists as a lesson to teach us the difference between the Almighty and the shinigami." I can't entirely make sense of this, and I don't want to get ahead of myself, but is "Almighty" capitalized here to definitely refer to the divine? Like, the Christian God but in a bit of a sidestepped, roundabout way? Wish I could see the original Japanese text for this line. If anyone has essays/posts about it, please show me.

And on a meta-textual level, the ambiguity of our role/perspective as the reader of these notes is also interesting. We're probably just an omniscient, unmoored observer being told about this set of notes Mello wrote and his line to the effect of "if it happens to turn into [a book]" is tongue-in-cheek. I know there's a slight, hanging implication that Near did in fact publish his notes, but I think that's unlikely since they contain so much sensitive/classified information.

[mayajadewrites]

── .✦ Renaissance - Levi Ackerman .✦ ──

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ levi x fem reader

summary: levi leaves you in the underground for the scouts, only for him to find you again in marley when the war is over. however, nothing about you is the same as it once was. you are not the same person you were 12 years ago. cw: canon universe, smut, fluff, yearning ao3 authors note: there are several things in this story that are not canon to the original AOT storyline (like Levi needing a wheelchair) but I will warn you if/when those things come up.

chapter notes: none! finally get some dialogue with these two. let me know what you think and thank you so much for reading!

tag list: @ackerboi, @staarflowerr, @midw1nter, @glads-stuff, @nxcxllxsevens, @qrhttp, @deniixlovezelda, @midnightwriter21, @levislegislation, @huriareads, @levikeigosdearest, @nikanaka

preface - chapter one - chapter two - chapter three

Silently, you walk into the tea shop, passing Levi and avoiding his gaze. The shop looks different than before - more decorations, and employees.

"Falco, Captain Levi said that you can't put that tea out yet! It's special -"

"Hush, brats." Levi spoke as he closed the doors. "Gabi, Falco, we have our first customer."

You narrow your eyes at Levi, then looking at the two kids. Well, at least you assume they're kids. They look old enough.

"Welcome to Kuchel's!" The blonde, Falco, says with a welcoming smile. "What kind of tea can I get you? Or coffee?"

"Tea. Just black tea with milk would be great." You fish your wallet out of your purse, pulling out a bill. You feel Levi's hand push your hand with the money down, shaking his head.

"I can't be a customer if I don't buy the tea." You crane your neck slightly, moving your hand away from his. You hand Falco the money, giving him a slight bow and smile before sitting at a table, waiting for the tea.

As always, Levi's footsteps are silent as he sits at your table, dropping down to the chair as he gives you an icy stare.

"Why didn't you want to service me?" He blurted, causing you surprise. He draped his arm over his chair, looking rather relaxed.

"Levi, not here. Please -" You put your hand up, hoping he'll drop it.

He doesn't.

"No, tell me why. Tell me why you wouldn't let me have you for the night."

You furrow your eyebrows, hoping the kids won't hear what he's saying. Your mouth forms into a frown, speaking softer than before.

"I'm not talking about this with you. Since you didn't answer any of my questions, I'm not answering yours." You look up to see Falco walking towards the table, gently setting the cup of tea in front of you.

"Captain Levi said this is your favorite tea, I hope its -"

"Falco. Leave." If looks could kill, Falco would be dead.

As Gabi and Falco go into the back room of the shop, Levi turns his attention back to you. "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."

When you finally, finally look into his eyes, up close like this, it takes everything in you not to say fuck it and kiss this man senseless.

"Fine. Me first then." You take a sip of the tea, nodding in approval. "This tea is delicious, by the way."

"I know." He tapped his finger on the table impatiently. "Ask."

With a sigh, you lean back in the chair and cross your arms over your chest, bracing yourself for his answers. "Why didn't you come back for me?"

As if he was expecting that would be the first question, he immediately answered. "It wasn't safe for you to come back with me. They would've forced you to be a scout, and I couldn't have that -"

"So you didn't even bother to check on me? Say hi?"

"One question per turn." He cleared his throat, mirroring your pose and crossing his arms over his chest. "Why didn't you sleep with me that night?"

A sharp breath left your nostrils as you close your eyes briefly. "It didn't feel right to do that. My job... it's not for pleasure. I do it for money, and if I slept with you for money, it would feel wrong."

"So would you sleep with me for free?"

Your eyes dart over to him, a scowl on your lips. "One question per turn."

You adjust yourself in your seat, taking another sip of your tea. "Why didn't you at least check on me, Levi?"

"I did." He said sharply.

"No you didn't. I never saw you. Don't lie to me -"

"I did check on you. How do you think I knew you would work at a brothel?"

You're... dumbfounded. Stunned.

"B-but I didn't see you."

"That was the whole point. If you saw me, I knew I wouldn't be able to say no to you and would have to bring you back with me. And that would be selfish." He adjusted himself in his seat, clearing his throat. "I also had my cadets check on you too. When you kept moving from town to town, it became more difficult to find you."

He... he looked for you? He had his soldiers look for you?

Your hands balled into a fist, your nails digging into your palm as you look at him. "You saw all the shit I had to go through, and you thought that that would be better than being with you?"

"Yes." His icy gray eyes found yours, holding your gaze for longer than you would have hoped. "I was going on missions, possibly not coming back. I would never forgive myself if you got hurt, or if I had to leave you alone... again."

You let out a sigh, un-balling your fists as you take a deep breath. "It was really that bad?"

"I see that we're not doing the one question per turn rule." He rolls his eyes, tapping his index finger on the table. "It was war. Every mission I lost soldiers. I lost my comrades, and my friends."

"You had friends?"

"Shut it." His eyes were half lidded and narrow as he spoke. "I lost most of my squad. I almost died. Hence..." He pointed to his eye, then his hand.

When you looked down at his hand, you saw how cold he looked. His pale skin underneath the bandages, the way his thumb slightly shakes.

You bring your hands to his, taking it gently as you inspect it, your touch so gentle like he was a fragile flower petal. Then you look at his face, the scars that haven't fully healed, but are on their way.

You press the pad of your thumb to the scar, closing your eyes when you make contact with his skin. Almost as if you could feel all the pain he's been through.

He closed his eyes, taking a sharp breath in as you touched his face. As you lean in closer, your eyes flutter open to look at his skin a bit closer.

"Did you ever find love?" You whisper, your hand almost trembling. "In the scouts, did you?"

Levi's eyes softened ever-so-slightly, leaning into your touch before shaking his head. "No time for love in war."

You roll your eyes, moving back slightly as you place your hand back on the table. "So you were just going to sleep with me? Just like that?"

"I've always wanted my first time to be with you."

You freeze. First time?

Your heartbeat quickened as your breathing got slight sporadic, your eyes darting around his face. "There's no way. You didn't -"

"I'm serious." He looked at you, a piece of his hair in front of his eyes as he sighed, rolling his shoulders back. "Not something I'm necessarily proud of, but -"

You look away from him, a frown on your face as a blush graces your cheeks. "I never thought you would want me after what I've done. The men -"

"Hey." He brings his hand to yours, holding it gently to get your attention. "You're no less of a person because of what you do for work."

You gulp, looking in his eyes before nodding slowly, not moving your hand from his. "I've... never made love before."

"Made love? Yes you have. You -"

"No." You immediately shake your head, moving your hand away from his to take another sip of your tea, which is almost cold at this point. "Making love and having sex are different. When I... do my job, I have no emotion. I'm there for a transaction. But making love... well, I've heard its much better. You and your partner are in sync, emotions are involved, and everything is just better."

Levi nods as he listens, mentally taking notes. "So you've never made love."

"Right."

He nods again.

Then, you nod.

As you mimic him, he gives you the slightest smile. You took a mental picture of the view. His blue-gray eyes, the way the corner of his mouth turned up, his bangs in his face.

"I've missed you." You whisper, leaning in slightly closer to him, leaning over the table as you push your tea cup slightly.

His eyes wander over your face, drinking it in as you lean in closer to him. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You have no idea -" He gently pressed his hand to your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin. You shudder slightly at the contact, not used to being touched with since gentleness.

As you lean in more, feeling like a magnet to him, the door to the shop swings open.

"Captain Levi! I didn't know today was opening day!" A man with a buzzcut pushes his way through the door, raising an eyebrow at your table. "Captain? Who is -"

Levi gently pushes himself away from you, clearing his throat as he stands up. "Connie, has anyone told you you're too damn loud." His back is now to you, almost shielding you from Connie's curious gaze.

Soon, a handful of other people showed up - presumably members of the scouts since they all addressed Levi as Captain Levi.

You heard the names Jean, Armin, Annie and Mikasa. You take one last sip of the tea before bringing the cup to the counter. The group looked at you, then at Levi.

"If you brats know what's good for you you won't ask me any dumb questions." He nodded at you, taking your cup as he looks at you apologetically.

Gabi and Falco come back out, smiling as they talk to the group of scouts. You wave goodbye to them, then giving Levi a timid wave.

When you leave the shop, you turn around once more to take in the view of the shop-front. The people of Marley started to trickle in, all of them excited for this new tea shop, some of them there just to be in the presence of the amazing Captain Levi Ackerman.

In a sea of people, Levi's only looking at you.

[lilithofpenandbook]

Discrediting the canon because the author's a bigot is, frankly, rather stupid. You're not making it any less "problematic" by completely changing the characters' personalities, especially if you're still using the characters' names, and making them "queer". And I'd argue it's a very poor, uninteresting version of queerness, especially when you take the canon into account and how much more potential there is to explore those characters as queer.

Sirius Black, hyper-masculine to a serious fault. Aggressive, abusive, everything about his family that he hates but that he's not taken time to unlearn. Why not explore him, in his mid thirties, watching as everyone looks at him with something akin to pity, because poor Sirius, acting like this in such a grown age, poor man is rather pathetic, isn't he, and starting to question why. Why does everyone see him like that, and not how he wants them to see him? And he ends up slowly unlearning his toxic behaviour that way.

Or Sirius, being a trans man. The start of his battle with his mother over his very identity as a boy, not the perfect daughter she wanted. And it's established in his mind very early: womanhood, feminity itself, is bad. And he doesn't unlearn that in Hogwarts. He bullies Snape, who's clearly feminine in his very nature, unable to fathom why someone born a man would ever behave in that way, unable to understand his viewpoints are wrong, skewed by his childhood resentment and trauma.

Remus, he could so easily be queer, and had to hide it to fit in with his friends. Joining in with bullying Snape, as a way to make up for his "wrongness". Heck, even Peter could be queer and still in line with his canon personality.

Severus Snape? He's written like a female character. He is easily the queerest one. Heck, the bullying he faced even lines up with it.

Take those characters with their true flaws and faults, make them queer, and you've got a far more complicated story than the fanon version. Then again, perhaps they're too "flawed" for you. Perhaps they're too real, too human in those flaws.

This fandom is a fun place to do what we want, yes. But if you have to completely remove the characters' personalities, bring people in via the medium of ooc fanfiction, and even hound on people who actually point out the canon personalities of the characters and who want to see said canon, then you're in the wrong fandom. Full stop. And for all JKR's bigoted attitudes, she still wrote the story. You can't take that away just because she's a bad person. That's not how people work. Horrible people can create brilliant things. Bad people can create good stories, good characters. It's childish to immediately view something made by a bad person and ignore everything they made while still using it. You're not "reclaiming" it, or flipping the bird at JKR for creating this ooc fandom in any way.

You can like the series despite the author who wrote it. And if you can't, if you have to change everything to like it, then you don't like the series, and you need let go of the names taken from it. Call it an AU, even.

But don't go acting like there's no canon, and that people are wrong for wanting canonically accurate interpretations, because they fell in love with those characters, despite the author who wrote them

ppl be posting shit like "I miss canon Marauders"

Babes, there is no "canon" Marauders. Most of the shit ya'll think is canon, are just old headcanons that used to be widespread before other (usually queerer) headcanons gained popularity.

There is so little information about the "canon" Marauders - and even the info we have cannot be trusted because it's usually memories, influenced by a character's bias - that trying to make a somewhat comprehensive character out of the given material is impossible, let alone 4 characters.

Everything is fanon. Everything is headcanon. And that's the beauty of this fandom.

(Ofc my favourite part is when something actually is canon via the books or movies, and people reject it as fanon.)

[kasagia]

Hi babe 🩷 hope you’re doing okay and we miss you so much!! I don’t know if you’re still taking Feyd requests or not, but if so can you please write a little cutesy smutty piece about our sweet dark prince being so touch starved and never really knowing what a gentle or loving touch felt like and our reader shows him all the different ways that soft touches can feel good? I’m just in the mood for some Feyd worship (completely obsessed with him)

HIS Right Hand

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!ex-bene gesserit!pregnant! reader Summary: After defeating Atreides, you and Feyd rule Giedi Prime peacefully. (As peacefully as you can with him by your pregnant side.) And you show your husband a whole new side of intimacy. Warnings: 18+, canon violence, smut, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen; A kind of sequel to Right Hand - my most beloved series with our Na-Baron. Hope you will enjoy it! 🖤🖤🖤 Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~Main Masterlist

Everything was wrong today.

Your old armour—the outfit in which you walked the corridors of Giedi Prime as Feyd's right hand—no longer fits you at all because your pregnant belly started to show.

Not that you hated it. Quite the opposite. You loved your unborn children with all your heart, but after so many changes that had come so quickly and suddenly into your life, the fact that your old clothes no longer fit somehow completely broke your composure.

So now you were standing in front of a tied prisoner; you don't even remember who he was anymore, and you were abusing him, making cuts in some places on his body, painting the floor with his blood, and his body with wounds in your current vision to get out some of these... anxiety in you.

You realise with dismay why your husband had done this so many times. It was just so fucking therapeutic.

Each cut represented your anger at something different. Stupid, useless advisors. Disgusting, back-pedalling Reverend Mothers. The emperor's spoilt little daughter was only on the throne because you and Feyd didn't want to take that position yet. A poorly cooked breakfast. Stupid, ill-fitting clothes...

"In my wildest dreams, I never thought that pregnancy would make you so aggressive, little witch. If I had known, I would have placed you in this condition earlier. It's rather... exciting to watch." Feyd sneers cockily, leaning against the doorframe and watching you work on the prisoner in unconcealed admiration.

He nods to the guards in the room, causing them to obediently leave, leaving the two of you alone with the barely alive man. Apparently, all of your deep conversations must have taken place in the presence of corpses.

"Don't provoke me, husband." You growl at him and plunge the dagger into the trapped man's chest like it was a bag of pins. The pierced flesh and muscle squelch under your movement, and you swear you see your husband's eyes blacken with lust at the sight and sound. Horny madman.

"Oh, but I love provoking you, my dear darling wife." He responds sweetly, smiling at you as he wraps his arms around your waist. He pulls you closer to him and licks the blood from your temple that had obviously splattered on you in your crazy attack on the poor man.

You must have looked ridiculously like your husband in that state. And that turned him on. Narcissistic asshole.

"Feyd." You growl at him menacingly and give him a dry, cold stare—something he's used to but has become... rare after the two of you ended up together.

He swallows and delicately reaches into your hand, removing the dagger from it—his experience with you stabbing him when you get overly emotional tells him it's best to disarm you before he says something that will unsettle you.

"What's wrong, my Baroness?" He asks, reaching for your chin and forcing you to look him in the eye. You might not have been as open a book to him as he was to you, but Feyd was slowly learning to read you. And each time, he revelled in the small victory of reading you. He hoped that this time he would succeed because you looked... very agitated and nervous. And he didn't like that at all.

"If you laugh at me, I'll spit your guts out and tell our children they never had a father." You growl your threat and rest your chin on his shoulder.

He stiffens a little, unused to being treated affectionately, but slowly he tangles his hand in your hair—perhaps one of the most ethereal things about you—and allows you to hide from his watchful gaze for a moment.

"That's a threat I'm not going to test. Just tell me who to punish."

"My clothes don't fit me anymore." You say tearfully, and, driven by some strange instinct, you nuzzle up to him, wrapping your arms around him tightly and pressing his body closer to yours.

You cry into his chest, completely oblivious to how stiff he has gone, frozen in shock at your odd behaviour.

You and he didn't have an easy past. It was unheard of for you to show any weakness, tears, or need for physical contact other than seeking sexual pleasure from others.

You, as a former Bene Gesserit, had to remain alert and composed at all times. He, as a Harkonnen, was supposed to be the definition of strength and brutality. That didn't exactly go with the cuddles, the tender, caressing touches, and other shit Feyd had read in one of your romance novels that you tried so hard to hide from him.

No, he didn't like them at all. He just liked to know what his woman was doing and liked.

Even after you and he finally ended up together, there wasn't... much tenderness in your relationship. Sure, the sex was amazing, the tension and chemistry between you unthinkable, but seeking solace and a cuddle that wasn't directly related to the hot passion of the moment? Never. Well… maybe in life-threatening situations. We all forget about control in such moments.

That's why Baron Feyd-Rautha, the great warrior, husband, and soon-to-be father, has no idea what to do when his pregnant wife cries and clings to him like some teddy bear (which neither of you have ever had, by the way).

"Hug me, damn it!" You say, or rather order him, irritated. And that side of you is already something more familiar to Feyd.

He obeys your command without hesitation, his strong arms holding you tight, and he swallows nervously, amazed at the power you have over him, how even when you're the one crying and showing your sensitive side, you still hold him by the throat, unsure of what to do next.

"Is ordering new clothes such a big tragedy?" He asks, unsure of your reaction, and by the way you stop shaking from crying in his arms, he dares to think he has solved your problem.

He's never been more fucking wrong in his entire life.

"Of course you have no idea what I'm on about!" You growl angrily and push yourself away from him. "All you know is how to twirl your sword and your penis and nothing else! I sleep in my old chambers tonight!" You scream furiously at him and leave the dungeon like a fury, slamming the grate behind you with such force that the right one falls off its hinges.

Feyd makes a note to check the state of his dungeons and thanks himself for having the prudence to pick the dagger out of your hand earlier. Now he knows damn well what it's like to be on the verge of life and death. And being on the other side of his treatment, he doesn't like it at all. Especially since his pregnant wife had bigger mood swings than him.

"Marital quarrel. You understand, right?" He says to the barely conscious man and ends his suffering by killing him on the spot. After all, he couldn't let anyone witness his little fight with his wife.

Unfortunately, this is not enough to calm his anger.

He moves on to the next prisoner, completely ignoring the knowing, discouraged glances the guards exchange. They're going to have a hell of a lot of cleaning up to do today after their Baron and Baroness visits.

Feyd tossed and turned over again. His large bed with its black velvet sheets was mocking him with how lonely and cold he felt without the familiar warmth of your body next to him.

Just a few months ago, he didn't even know what it was like to have you in his bed and in his arms every night. He didn't care about something like sleeping in his bed; he only considered it an interruption, something annoying that took him away from his training. And with you... he wanted every little second of a nap with you in his arms.

Damn. He was a Harkonnen. A fucking killing machine, he wouldn't let something as shallow as...

His thoughts are interrupted by the quiet opening of the door. He closes his eyes, pretending to sleep, and moves his hand under the pillow, gripping tightly the hilt of a hidden dagger (yours, ironically).

"Leave it, or you'll accidentally hurt me or worse, our children, and then I'll really start a civil war with you." You snap at him, both irritating him and calming his racing thoughts.

He opens one eye and checks the hour. 2:58. You should have been asleep by now in your condition. It wasn't healthy for you or your children.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this late visit? Is there something wrong with your rooms?" He allows himself to mock you, embittered by your childish behaviour, and sits down to get a better look at you.

Your hair is dishevelled—a clear indication that you couldn't sleep either, and the hastily thrown-on robe over your nightgown gives him a beautiful view of your figure and the slightly rounded curve of your belly. A strange warmth blooms in his chest at the sight, making him almost completely forget about your earlier unfounded outburst at him and that he should be mortally offended and angry at you.

"Move your ass."

"What?"

"You lie on my side."

Feyd snorts angrily, keeping up his indignant appearances while trying to hide the fact that before you came in, in his desperation he reached for your pillow, burying his nose in it in the hopes that the scent lingering on it would somehow lull him to sleep.

He shifts, raising his hairless eyebrows in surprise as you lie down next to him without a word. It is true that you growl something under your breath before pulling him roughly by his neck closer to you, but that's something Feyd was used to by now. He actually expected you to yell at him again. But you just bury your face in the crook of his neck and wrap your arms tightly around him, snuggling into him.

He lies still for a few minutes, then he hesitantly wraps his arms around you and rubs your back the way his mother used to do to calm him. An old, unwanted memory.

"What is that?" He dares to ask, but he doesn't let go of your grip. If anything, he presses a little closer to you. You were warm. And… cosy.

"Shut up. I need this." You mumble into his pearly skin and nuzzle his neck, burying your face deeper. He allows himself a small smile as you wrap your arms around his chest, clinging to him as he absentmindedly brushes through your hair.

"Why exactly?"

"I don't know. Fucking pregnancy hormones. So shut up so we can both sleep, or I'm going to start crying, and I promise you'll regret the day you put that thick, monstrous dick inside me." You growl madly, which leaves him completely confused about what you're on about or what exactly he did wrong this time.

"As you wish, my Baroness." He mumbles and presses his lips to your temple, making you purr in contentment and snuggle even closer to him.

He accepts your strange clinginess to him, though, more surprised by the fact that... he actually enjoys cuddling with you than by your mood swings.

"I like it a bit. This side of you."

"What? An aggressive cold bitch with mood swings?" You snort, raising a questioning eyebrow at him. He barely manages to keep from bursting out laughing at how accurately you described yourself. No one said you wouldn't reach under your pillow and commit an act of murder on him for such an insult.

"This is the version of you I've had every day since you stepped onto my goddamn ship. I meant more... that… that is... pleasant in a different way." His heart flutters faster when he feels your lips form a tiny smile against his skin at his words. He tightens his grip on you, making sure you’re covered tightly by the blanket.

"Whatever." You mumble dismissively, inhaling his scent. You intertwine your legs with his, pressing yourself as close to him as possible.

"You like it too." He teases you, delighting in the feeling of your heart beating gently against him.

"Feyd?"

"Hm?"

"Shut up." You shush him, to which he only mutters something under his breath and obediently falls silent. The feeling of guilt grows inside you, causing an unpleasant lump to form in your throat and tears to press to your eyes. Fucking pregnancy hormones.

It was probably the first time, with anyone, ever, that you were so... open about what you wanted, what you needed. And as good as it felt... there was still a little red lamp in the back of your head, a conviction trained over the years that you couldn't just let go of your barrier. But if not with him, then with whom else could you?

"I love you." You mumble against his skin and press a kiss to his neck, leaving a small mark there for your eyes only. He smiles a little and presses a kiss to your forehead, silently returning your gesture.

It wasn't the first time you'd "apologised" to each other in this way, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Just as it wouldn't be the first and last time you fell asleep cuddled up together, simply enjoying the other's closeness.

It's instinct. That's how Feyd tells himself when, during a meeting, he reaches over to his wife's side and rests his hand thoughtfully on her pregnant belly, stroking it gently.

It's instinct. That's what you tell yourself as, lost in thought while reading reports and listening to Rabban's words, you reach for the back of Feyd's head and begin to trace lazy patterns on his smooth skin.

You have been acting around each other in this way for several days now.

First, it started when Feyd decided to renovate the throne room, and he happened to start with your throne, which resulted in you landing on his lap for all sorts of meetings and audiences.

You thought it was just his typical prank, an excuse to hold you closer and enjoy the closeness of your body, but the next day during dinner, instead of sitting in his usual seat across from you, he chose to sit right next to you so he could keep his hand on your upper thigh or around you.

And you didn't remain passive to him. You also looked for various opportunities to lay your hands on him. And not at all with sexual overtones, which surprised you greatly.

You realised it this morning when you woke up for the first time in a long time with Feyd still in bed, and most importantly, cuddled up to you.

At first you thought he had overslept for his morning workout and that was why he was still cuddled up to you with his head against your belly, but the moment you felt his finger lazily stroking patterns on your side and found your hand in his tightening grip, you realised he had purposely skipped his morning workout to stay in bed with you.

"Are you sick?" You ask him in disbelief and let your free hand wander to the top of his bald head. You smooth your nails over his skin, not liking the way he lets out a quiet sigh at your caresses.

"Good morning to you too, woman." He mumbles against your skin, not even lifting his head to look at you.

"I'm deadly serious. Should I call a doctor? Have you gone mad? Am I supposed to rule Giedi Prime alone?"

You smirk as he rests his chin on your belly and gives you a hostile look. You decide to tease him even more and start tracing the lines of his eyebrows, his nose, his lips, and his jaw with your fingertip. He leans into your touch and purrs at the pleasant feeling of your soft skin.

"Unfortunately, I must curb your imperial ambitions. I am more than capable of ruling... for now. Unless my dear, cruel wife uses her skills that she learnt as my right hand to dethrone me, declaring our unborn children the rightful heirs to the throne and making herself regent."

"Nicely thought out. Do you want to retire?" He snorts in amusement at your question and shakes his head, not moving even an inch away from you.

"No, I am quite good right now." He mumbles and presses his lips to your belly. You smile, trying to hold back giggles as he tickles you, placing kisses along your baby bump.

It feels a little surreal. Being here with him, when he shows you such affectionate behaviour. Who would have thought a few months ago that you would find yourself in this moment? That from his right hand, his most trusted person, you would become his wife, the mother of his children, someone he simply adored.

Despite the many doubts and the series of unknowns that lay ahead on your path, you wouldn't trade your messed-up relationship for anything else in this world. Especially not when it felt so good to simply lie with his arms wrapped around you. And to think that at one time you would consider this a form of imprisonment for you...

"Fine. But only because I will still need you. Who would hold me and keep me warm at night if you left prematurely?"

"It's great to know you find useful uses for me, my Baroness."

"Very useful, I would dare to say, my Baron." You mumble, pulling him higher so you can plant a proper kiss on his lips.

You moan as he practices his skill in the way that drives you crazy, and you gladly grant his capable tongue access to your mouth. You wrap your arms around him, supporting yourself against him as you sit on your bed.

His broad, rough hands travel beneath the material of your nightgown, caressing the bare skin of your upper thigh as he removes the black silk material from your body.

Your hands travel to his pants, hastily pushing the material at his waist down his legs to finally...

"Can you stop for a minute?" Rabban's voice tears you from your memories of this morning.

You frown and try to understand what exactly he means, but Feyd takes over the situation and covers your ignorance by asking:

"What do you mean?"

"Touching... her like that. I thought it was supposed to be a serious political meeting."

Your head shoots to where Feyd's arm wraps around your waist so his hand can rest on your growing baby bump. His other hand—the one with the wedding ring and Baron's signet ring—rests securely on yours as he plays with your own rings. You blush slightly and are about to squirm out of his grip when Feyd tightens it around you, making it nearly impossible. You look up at him, almost sighing when you see his eyes crinkle at his brother.

"If it was supposed to be that serious political meeting, then we wouldn't invite you, brother."

"Feyd." You scold him quietly, but he doesn't take his watchful gaze off his brother.

Instead, he moves his hand to your thigh and squeezes it tightly, sending an involuntary shiver of arousal through you. In an instant, a thousand other uses for his large hand and thick fingers run through your mind, as well as the chair he was currently sitting on. Or the table in front of you. The floor. The walls. The windows... fucking pregnancy hormones.

"I just say that you could keep your hands off your whore for a while."

And after these words, you already know that a very cruel murder will take place here.

You watch Feyd carefully, ignoring Rabban's wide eyes of fear and surprise as he realises what has slipped through his lips. Your husband... wears the most calm expression his subjects have ever seen. But you know him too well. You see the glint of cruelty in his eyes, the exact moment when your reasonably rational Feyd leaves the scene and gives way to his innate, brutal Harkonnen nature.

Once, when you were still his right hand, it would have meant a lot of cleaning up after him and organising something for him to do to keep his restless mind occupied, to cool his raging blood—a whore(s), a prisoner to torture, a particularly intense sparring session, whatever.

Now, as his wife, it mostly meant entertaining displays of his cruelty to watch... which occasionally ended in an incredible fuck. And given your raging hormones and the way he dug his fingers into your thigh, you would have preferred to skip straight to the second one without watching your husband smear his brother's insides all over the floor.

But apparently your husband had other plans.

In an instant he's leaping, fucking leaping, the length of the table to get to his brother. After a rather brief and pathetic scuffle and a few broken chairs, Rabban ends up defeated on the floor with Feyd pinning his head to the floor with his boot and twisting his right arm out of joint.

"Are you jealous or stupid? How dare you talk about your Baroness in such a way? Either you have a death wish or you really envy me that I have a wife that I can touch and caress whenever I want, and you can only count on your fist, right, brother? Apologise to her."

"It is not..."

"He will apologise." Feyd interrupts you before you can even finish your sentence, preventing you from even offering to forget his brother's "sins" against you. "On his knees. Kiss the chair she is sitting on. The future of House Harkonnen."

You can barely keep yourself from rolling your eyes at your husband's crazy diva behaviour. Rabban, scared to death, without smelling, puts his mouth to the legs of your chair. Feyd nods with satisfaction and lets go of his brother, who takes the opportunity and runs away, before his brother decides to chop off his limbs.

You sigh as the door clatters shut behind him, and you place your crown on the table.

"That was cruel." You comment, rubbing your hand over the back of your neck. The metal thing was getting heavier and heavier on your head with each passing day.

"It turns you on when I'm cruel." He shrugs at you and walks over to you.

You groan as he stands behind you and begins to massage the aching muscles in your shoulders and neck. You lean into him and bite your lower lip, trying not to flatter him like that. You were still mad at him. It only took you a few seconds to remember why.

"Not to your brother."

"And why not?"

"Because... that's a bad example for our children."

"How fortunate that they are not here yet to witness my outrageous behaviour." He mocks you and pulls away. You want to snap at him angrily, but he suddenly reaches over and places his hands under your knees. You gasp when he suddenly lifts you up and sits you on his lap.

"But they can hear it. You wish they would treat each other the way you and Rabban do?" You continue, trying to ignore his dilated pupils and the glint in his eyes that only meant one thing. Trouble.

He gives you a small smile and lazily tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning down to press his lips to your neck. Bastard, you think as you try to control your shaking legs as he slowly strokes your bare ankle.

"You know perfectly well that this is entirely something else. Besides, who will forbid me to keep my hands on my wife, my baroness, the mother of my children, my right hand, my little witch?" He whispers into your skin, leaving a hickey on your skin with every nickname/role he utters.

"You're clingy." You gasp, squirming in his lap, trying to find a more comfortable position as he practically pulls you into him. And it feels so fucking good. You have no idea how or when the two of you got back to the can't-keep-your-hands-off-you stage, but you loved it.

"It's my wife's fault. She raised a monster." You smile at his teasing and nibble on his earlobe. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, his face buried in your cleavage as he tirelessly kisses every inch of your skin.

"A real monster, isn't it?" You ask, grinding against his crotch to prove your point. He can’t help but let out a raspy chuckle as you also gently stroke the back of his head.

"It's true… So what are you going to do about it?" He growls against your skin, cupping your collarbone gently. You sigh, digging your finger into the skin of his scalp and pressing your lips to the tip of his head.

"Oh, should I do something?"

"It would be appropriate." He nods, pushing the material of your dress aside with his chin to begin peppering kisses across your sensitive breasts.

"Since when did we do anything that was ever considered appropriate, my Baron?" You snicker at him as his hands go to the fastening of your dress.

"There's always a first time…"

"I'd boldly assume that neither of us has any more first times to tick off." You interrupt him with a mocking smile as he slides the material of your dress off your shoulders.

“No, that’s not true.” He mumbles, blowing warm air onto your nipples. You bite your lower lip to hold back a small moan and close your eyes, looking up at him from under your lashes. “I don’t remember ever doing this on this chair with you. Or anyone…”

"Unbelievable. I guess we need to change that."

"Very quickly." He nods eagerly and makes some room for you to place your hands on the waistband of his pants. Of course, still holding you in his tight embrace and not withdrawing his face from the valley between your breasts.

You unbutton his pants and wrap your hand around his cock. He doesn't need much preparation, already eager and ready for you, but you love hearing him pant with anticipation and frustration as you prolong the inevitable. You straddle him and position yourself above him, slowly lowering yourself onto him.

Even though you had done this countless times before, you doubted you could ever get used to it. The way he stretched you, the way he filled you so deliciously and perfectly, was simply indescribable, and you doubted anyone else before him had fit you so perfectly, had fulfilled all your inner needs and desires… or to be as fucked up as you.

Slightly irritated by his lack of movement, you lift your hips, prepared to ride him, when he suddenly squeezes your side tightly and settles you back down on his cock. You whine in protest, but he silences you with a lazy kiss, the pads of his fingers gently tracing circles on your bare back.

"Don't move."

"But..."

"I told you something, woman." He growls in your ear, sending a shiver of excitement down your spine. You wince, trying to keep yourself steady against him, but with every breath you take, you feel him more and more inside you. And it's incredibly difficult to stay still under these circumstances. "Do. Not. Move." He warns you, staining your arm with new marks with every breathless word.

You knew from the way his cock twitched inside you that keeping still was as much of a task for him as it was for you. It was little comfort to your desperate need for him, but it was some kind of comfort. At least you had the satisfaction of knowing you were both suffering.

But over time you began to understand why he suddenly insisted that you warm his cock. It felt so... nice. Him buried safely deep inside you, his arms around you and his mouth on your neck, his breath hitting your skin, his scent and warmth around you. It was like... a safe cocoon.

You almost snort thinking about how ridiculous it is to equate him with safety.

But right now, on his lap, as you stroked his shoulders, his neck, his head, his cheeks, and his lips with your fingertips, feeling him beneath you, inside you, and around you in such a vulnerable, passionate, and tender position... your heart beat a little faster.

"Feyd..." You mumble into his skin as he presses his nose to your neck and inhales your scent, inhaling it like some kind of the best drug.

Is it possible to be addicted to another person? Probably not. But you don't know how else to explain the tingling and buzzing in your head and the euphoria of being so close to him.

If love was a drug, then you never wanted to be clean again. No. You wanted to be tainted by it, soaked to the core, able to reduce him to the same quivering mess he reduced you to with the slightest touch of your skin against his.

Just a few months ago, such a thought would have caused you great anxiety. Now, it was an exciting challenge. What a bloody long way you've come.

"Y/N..." He groans, his hips bucking slightly, making him push himself even further into you. You moan, digging your nails into his shoulders, feeling his length deliciously poke through your walls.

"I know. I know." You mumble tearfully and stroke the back of his head, pulling him closer to your bruising, needy kiss, as if lamenting the fact that you can’t get any closer to him than you've already been.

He slowly thrusts into you, watching your every tiny reaction to his thrusts. All you can do is hold on for dear life, pulling him closer and closer, encouraging him to sink his night-black teeth into your skin as you leave bloody scratches across his arms and back.

You yank at his clothes, ripping his shirt and exposing his chest to you. Your mouth travels along his neck, worshipping every scar, every muscle, every perfect blemish on his body that years of training in war and combat have left—the living mark of being the Harkonnen heir.

You moan loudly as his thrusts intensify. He tightens his fingers on your hips, probably leaving a few bruises there, but all that mattered now was how wonderfully he was pounding into you from below, his chest rubbing against yours as he held you tightly against him, practically encouraging you to collapse onto him and cuddle up to him as he fucked your brains out.

It's humiliating how little it takes for you to come. After a few more thrusts, you're a moaning mess, a mass of bones and muscle you can't control, giving yourself over to him completely as the world around you turns white as his skin, screaming his name.

Your chin falls onto his shoulder; you are wrapping your arms tightly around him and letting him use you however he wants as you come down from your orgasm haze, appreciating the way his cock, wet from your cum, digs a spot inside you for release.

Feyd grunts, his thrusts becoming jerky as he presses his nose to your temple and sucks on the sensitive spot behind your ear, coming buried deep inside you. You shudder as his thick, sticky seed floods your already full womb and spills between the two of you, sealing you together.

You both breathe deeply and shakily, clinging desperately to the other, holding on to the other's body for dear life and not daring to move an inch as you appreciate the other's intimate closeness.

This was... completely different from your usual fucks. Usually it was raw passion, teeth and claws, desperate pursuit of orgasm, and finding pleasure in the other, but here... this was about closeness. A real sense of another person. You shiver as you feel something wet land on your shoulder. Your heart stops a little when you realise it's a tear. His tear.

Neither of you comment on this. You don't have to. You don't want to. You know how raw and vulnerable this moment is for the two of you. What you just did was really meant.

And you dare assume that this is the first time you've actually, truly gotten closer to each other. In a much more meaningful and deeper way than you've ever dared to think you could with anyone.

[lobotomiesatclaires]

Lighter Kink and Psychology Analysis - Zenless Zone Zero

Full disclaimer: I don’t play Zenless Zone Zero, but through my friend’s love of the game and Tumblr osmosis, I’ve learned a great deal about Lighter. I find the differences between his canon and fanon interpretations fascinating, so I thought it would be interesting to break down the psychology of kinks and what I think Lighter’s are. I’m going to focus on the ones I believe he has, and if people want me to go into further detail, let me know! Also if it was clear from the title 18+ content below

Exhibitionism – Subcategories: Semi-Public Sex, Secret Keeping, and Risk Play

Lighter is fascinating because he’s full of contradictions. He doesn’t like having his picture taken and prefers to keep a low profile, yet he wears flashy clothes and takes on high profile work where he cannot NOT be noticed. He wants to be left alone but craves connection with people. Part of this can be attributed to losing so many important people due to his own actions, but I think another part of it is Lighter’s hopeless romantic streak. He wants to die for love, and I think part of that is tied to finding someone worthy of that sacrifice.

He’s not interested in people who praise him or send him gifts because, to him, they don’t truly know him—and if they did, they wouldn’t want anything to do with him, he thinks. This low self-esteem and disorganized attachment style create a loop where he desperately craves connection, has opportunities for it, but never fully lets his walls down to allow a deeper bond. Because of his past and the fear of never being truly understood, Lighter communicates in subtle ways. In-game, he can give the player purple lilacs. In the language of flowers, purple lilacs symbolize one’s first love or the first time one feels love for someone. However he leaves on a job right after, to stop any possibility of asking him more about why he gave them to you.

When it comes to sex, Lighter has experience, but in romantic love, he’s very much a virgin, in my opinion.

In line with this, I think Lighter would be needy as a partner, in constant need of validation but unable to ask for reassurance. He hates when his friends are mad at him—it distresses him significantly, which reinforces my earlier points about his emotional sensitivity. Thus, I think one of his core needs would be for a partner to be very possessive of him. Not only would this push back against his feelings of guilt, but it would bulldoze past his tendency to panic at intimacy and distance himself.

While I agree he’d be into risk/thrill-seeking, I don’t think it would be extreme or involve pain. I believe it would be a form of intimate thrill-seeking—the kind that engages an overactive mind.

Imagine:Lighter and his partner in an elevator, on the way to a party. Four seconds before the elevator reaches the destination, his partner pushes him against the wall, kisses him, and whispers in his ear that they’re not wearing anything under their dress coat. The doors open, and they walk out into the party crowd—no one the wiser. Except Lighter.

For example: They’re at the party. Lighter’s charming, slipping easily into conversations with strangers. But every so often, his partner brushes their fingers lightly over the back of his neck—just once, fleeting. No one notices, but Lighter does. His spine straightens slightly each time, a silent acknowledgment: I know who I belong to.

Or: Club sex on the top floor behind a loud rock band. The balcony overlooking a busy street. Going to dinner with friends with a remote in his hand and a small vibrator in his partner’s underwear.

I think Lighter would enjoy all of these scenarios—not just for the risk, but for the inherent trust required to play and keep these secrets between him and his partner. It’s something completely his, something no one else can encroach upon, yet it’s right there, obvious to anyone observant enough to notice.

Marking – Physical and Psychological

Marking, both physical and psychological, would lean into Lighter’s desire for connection. Think: visible signs of his partner’s presence—like a hickey or a faint lipstick smudge on his collarbone.

While traditional marking overlaps with the possessiveness I imagine he’d enjoy, psychological marking might be even more appealing to him. This could involve embedding someone’s presence in his mind through habits, sensory triggers, or routines.

Lighter’s fear of being forgotten or unimportant could be countered by the constant reassurance that he’s always present in his partner’s thoughts. Non-sexually, his partner might leave voice notes for him to listen to during missions or spritz their perfume on his scarf. They might even snap a risky picture and set it as his lock screen so the next time he checks his phone on the job he’s left with a surprise.

Lighter is haunted by the dead, but I think what he truly craves is being haunted by someone living. He would adore his partner’s presence lingering in his personal space, feeding his need for connection without direct confrontation.

Domination – Receiving, Direction Taking

I firmly believe Lighter likes to be dominated. In terms of desire, I don’t think Lighter experiences much spontaneous desire; rather, he’s more connected to responsive desire (see the paper “Sexual Arousal and Desire: Interrelations and Responses to Three Modalities of Sexual Stimuli” by Katherine Goldey and Sari Anders). That man is too tired to be dominant, and as seen in-game, he prefers to take orders. He would definitely call his partner “Boss” in the bedroom.

Beyond the bedroom, I feel Lighter would continue this relinquishment of power through authority transfer dynamics as a coping mechanism for emotional instability, much like he does for the Sons of Calydon. This could manifest in routines or rituals where his partner makes decisions for him, offering a sense of control without the burden of autonomy. It’s both a reaffirmation of care and a release from the pressure of decision-making.

Given his tendency to overthink, delegating power outside of sex could ease his mental load and reinforce security in his relationships. I think Lighter would enjoy having his partner pick out his clothes, jewelry, ect, decide small daily routines, or even manage his finances in a consensual dynamic. This creates a structure where emotional care is embedded in everyday life, not just during intimacy.

Additionally, given Lighter’s need for emotional grounding and his craving to feel “claimed,” collaring—whether in a literal BDSM context or as an everyday symbolic gesture—would be something he could secretly obsess over. If Lighter were given a necklace, choker, or even a collar (especially since he loves jewelry), he’d never take it off. He’d wear it under his clothes, hidden from everyone else but always present. On rough days or when away from his partner, just feeling it against his skin would serve as silent reassurance, grounding him.

It would satisfy both his exhibitionist streak (a hidden “secret” between him and his partner) and act as a reminder: I’m not lost. I belong somewhere. To someone.

For example: if before a mission his partner was to kiss him goodbye, place a necklace around his neck and say “Come back wearing this” he would tug at the small chain subconsciously the entire time he’s gone. He would sleep with it on, shower with it, and when he returned, the metal would be warm and oxidised from his skin, his skin stained from the metal.

Praise Play

An extension of his need for domination and grounding, I see praise play as a huge turn-on for Lighter. While some believe degradation is one of his kinks, I think it’s the opposite. While he might engage in degradation play if his partner wanted it (and part of him might believe he deserves it due to his low self-esteem), I think he would emotionally shut down if it became a consistent dynamic. To me it would be a similar dynamic to the start of the Astarion romance, fulfilling a role as a tool rather than as a person.

Kinks often reflect core emotional needs. Non-consensual fantasies, for example, are about being desired so intensely that someone is willing to break laws and social norms. Degradation kinks often involve a need for others to see the worst parts of us and want us regardless. However, for sensitive individuals, this negative reinforcement doesn’t bring solace—it simply reaffirms their worst fears and destroys their fragile attempts at building a better self image. I also don't think Lighter would find any attraction in demeaning his partner, I think he would feel unworthy of their attention and trust, especially in the beginning.

Lighter is consistently wracked with guilt and desperately wants to know whether he’s doing the right thing, whether it’s in his job or in a relationship. For someone like Lighter, praise isn’t just arousing—it’s reparative in a way nothing else matches. Each compliment is a stone in the foundation of a self-worth he can’t build alone. When his partner says, “You’re doing so well,” or “You feel like home, like safety,” it’s not just about sex. It’s about rewriting the narrative he’s been telling himself for years.

Domestic Play

You cannot convince me that the image of Lighter’s partner cooking or doing general domestic chores wouldn’t awaken something deep within him, even though he might not admit it at first. In-game, he respects and surrounds himself with women who embody dominant, traditionally masculine qualities. He’s more than happy to take orders from them, but in terms of romantic or sexual attraction, he seems to have little interest in those traits. I suspect this is because these qualities mirror his old self, and that’s not something he finds much solace in, either romantically or sexually.

I think Lighter would be attracted to someone fundamentally different from those around him—someone softer and more considerate, yet still strong in a more traditionally feminine sense. Given his history of loss, trauma, and the absence of a stable family, I believe he harbors a profound urge for a family-like relationship. His partner would create an environment that feels like home, a concept Lighter likely yearns for but doesn’t fully understand.

Home-cooked meals, small domestic gestures of affection—these would make him unbearably needy, though he’d only show it when alone with his partner.

For example: During mundane moments—making coffee, fixing his jacket—his partner casually murmurs, “You belong to me.” It’s subtle, not always sexual, but it lights up the part of Lighter’s brain that craves validation without having to ask for it.

Things like his partner knowing how he likes his coffee without needing to ask, or grabbing the salt shaker from him because it’s bad for his cholesterol would make him unbearably turned on you cannot convince me otherwise. These small acts of care would hit him hard, far more than overt declarations of love.

For Lighter, being told what to do isn’t about submission—it’s about relief. In a life where his choices have often led to heartbreak, the absence of choice feels like safety.

Sensation Play – Both Sensory Deprivation and Service

Lighter is an overthinker. According to Emily Nagoski’s Come As You Are, overthinking is one of the primary reasons people struggle to achieve climax or engage fully with emotional and sexual vulnerability. When you place too much pressure on external factors—self-image, internal worries, even things as small as ‘the dishes need to be done’—it inhibits your ability to ground yourself in the present and truly experience pleasure. This is why many people, particularly women, struggle with partnered sex and climax.

For Lighter, orgasm denial or delayed gratification would likely be a huge turn-on, especially in situations where he’s restrained or unable to interact directly with his partner—think handcuffs or shibari. The removal of senses, such as blindfolding, helps heighten arousal by redirecting the energy normally spent on processing visual stimuli toward pure sensation. It doesn’t stop the overthinking; it realigns it, forcing it to focus on the present moment.

For example: His partner lightly places a hand over his mouth while he’s blindfolded—not fully cutting off air, but creating a soft restraint. It’s not about danger; it’s about trust. The lack of visual and verbal control pushes him into a space where he can’t overanalyze—he can only feel.

Considering Lighter’s past—especially his time in the fighting pits, where he described himself as feeling like a zombie—I don’t think he’d enjoy pain or impact play. His physical existence outside the bedroom has already been filled with similar kinds of suffering. Instead, sensation play becomes a refuge—a way to experience his body without violence, without pain. There's a running joke that he fears the sight of blood in game, which is another reason why I believe centering pleasure rather than pain would be more attractive to him.

Emotional Edgeplay

I believe Lighter craves not just physical intensity but emotional vulnerability pushed to its limits—scenarios where trust is tested, intimacy feels dangerous, and attachment triggers are explored in consensual, negotiated ways. Emotional edgeplay isn’t about causing harm; it’s about walking the razor-thin edge of emotional exposure, where the potential for catharsis is as powerful as the risk.

Overstimulation is an aspect of emotional edgeplay, often resulting in emotional release—like crying during or after sex—as the body lets go of trauma it’s been holding onto for too long. Lighter, who is profoundly dissociated from his needs due to guilt and a deep-seated dismissal of his own worth, would find this both terrifying and necessary.

We see hints of this in-game. For example, there’s an interaction with a guide dog—trained to seek out the most vulnerable person in the room—that ignores everyone else and goes straight to Lighter. This detail speaks volumes about how disconnected he is from his own emotional fragility; the desensitization runs so deep that he doesn’t even recognize it anymore.

In these moments, speech and affirmation would be crucial, especially during heightened emotional states or low points.

For example: During edging, when he’s trembling with frustration—not just sexually, but emotionally—his partner gently cradles his face and whispers, “Do you see how wonderful you are when you’re not pretending?”

It’s not just arousing—it’s disarming. Because in that vulnerable space, Lighter isn’t the cool, edgy pit fighter turned bodyguard. He’s just him, stripped of all pretense. No walls, no bravado. Flaws and all. It also provides acceptance by omission, that his partner sees all and accepts all.

Caretaker Dynamics (Reversed Aftercare)

I also believe Lighter would prefer to be the primary aftercare provider, despite this traditionally being the role of the dominant partner. According to Dominatrix Eva Oh, aftercare is a service role, and for Lighter, providing that service would be deeply fulfilling. (It’s a common misconception the Sub role in BDSM is the harder or serving role, because truly Dom’s are required to be very emotionally stable, beholden to their sub and can turn out to be a very stress inducing role for the wrong people). This is why high flying jobs such as CEO’s actually prefer to be submissive because it is the only place in their life they get to be minded.

While aftercare is essential after most sexual interactions—especially those involving intense scenes—reversed caretaker dynamics, where the more emotionally fragile partner provides aftercare, would align perfectly with Lighter’s psychology. Despite his vulnerabilities, he has an overwhelming desire to feel needed, to prove his worth in relationships even when he feels broken.

Being allowed to “take care” of his partner post-sex, even when he’s emotionally raw, satisfies this need. It’s not about dominance or submission—it’s about anchoring himself through acts of care.

For example: After an intense session, when his partner is spent and emotionally vulnerable, Lighter insists on making tea, carefully bandaging small marks, or physically holding them—even if he’s the one shaking. He tucks the blanket around them, brushes sweat-damp hair from their forehead, and whispers, “I’ve got you.”

In those moments, his value isn’t measured by strength or stoicism. This role reversal reinforces his sense of purpose without undermining his vulnerabilities. He doesn't always have to be the strong one here, in this moment.

Closing Thoughts

Ultimately, Lighter’s kinks aren’t just about physical pleasure—they’re reflections of his deepest fears, needs, and desires. They’re coping mechanisms woven into intimacy, helping him navigate a world where connection feels both a gift and a threat. Whether through domination, praise, or emotional edgeplay, his kinks allow him to confront the parts of himself he hides from the world.

At the heart of it all, Lighter wants to be known.

References

Disclaimer I have dyslexia and English is my second language so I apologize for mistakes.

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‌Li, S. (2024). The Psychology of Kink: A Cross‐Sectional Survey Investigating the Association Between Adult Attachment Style and BDSM-Related Identity Choice in China. Archives of Sexual Behavior, [online] 53(6), pp.2269–2276. doi:https://doi.org/10.1007/s10508-024-02829-1.

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Oh, E. (2020). I Was a Corporate Slave Until I Became a Professional Dominatrix. [online] VICE. Available at: https://www.vice.com/en/article/eva-oh-dominatrix-sex-kink/ [Accessed 9 Feb. 2025].

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