Please tell me more about fat Light. I’m so curious
YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW EXCITED I AM TO TALK ABOUT THIS I am quite literally physically vibrating. I grew up fat and remain fat so please for the love of fuck nobody be rude about me being just unfiltered about this.
Light Yagami is so obsessed with his exterior shell. His like beautiful ornate carapace. His mask. He's obsessed with his image, and a huge reason for this is his fathers position in society and being the perfect son to make his family proud and the fact that he is empty. There is a certain type of childhood where you grow up with a pit in your gut and anger in your heart and no reasonable place to put it or explanation for why you feel that way.
He is a young boy given the power to kill people, and an unnatural boredom borne of his privilege, nature, and power. He's unchallenged by school, he finds no connection in those around him, the distance between him and his family may as well be a chasm. There is no 'real' Light Yagami you will find under that flesh he cloaks himself in (because he doesn't even know who he is himself, he never got the opportunity to.)
I write this fairly often but I hate the characterization where Light is written as if Light and Kira are two different people. Kira is a young boys realization that if he acts sweet and remorseful enough he can get away with breaking other kids toys. It's the fucking feeling in the air when someone's position gives them the power to do whatever bloody cruel thing they want. Kira is a round-faced boy with a terrible weapon to kill. Many people forget that when Light first killed someone (in the manga) he basically cowered under his bedsheets for an entire night. He is bored, and he is empty, and to him excitement and feeling comes when he is so nervous he feels bile in his mouth.
In my mind he grows up fat, he's a pudgy fucking kid. And you know when you're young and fat and you are meant to be fingerpainting you crawl up that step stool and look in the mirror wondering why your soft, fat, unmanageable body doesn't look good enough.
And when you become an adult, for some the doorway to changing your body opens. It can fucking eat you whole man! And I write Light Yagami with these issues and interpret him as having a fuck ton of internalized fatphobia and body image issues, and now he's thin, unhealthily so. I usually write him struggling with eating.
When I do write him having the happy ending he doesn't deserve, I write him gaining weight as a good thing, and that means a lot to me! Internalized fatphobia makes you bitter and cruel not just to yourself but to others. He gets a very prominent double chin and gets larger gradually as he ages I think.
Also my friend @kattidiot wrote a BEAUTIFUL (unpublished) Light Yagami drabble about him being a child and crushing ants and his mother teaching him to bake so he directs that energy not toward covering his fingers in bug guts and he's looking back on that childhood and describes his fat little boy hands and how he doesn't want to add too much butter or sugar and so it always comes out wrong and his cruel perspective on his own baby-faced self is like so well written its like electric.
Anyway yeah diversity win the deranged mass murderer is fat.
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contains ; domesticity. bf!suguru. suggestive themes. modern / college au. geto wants you to be his housewife basically. just a short drabble. mostly fluff.
just thinking about college bf!suguru that didn’t realize he was a domestic person until he met you.
he’s still young, only in his third year at university and he’s still deciding on what his near future will look like. he’s had his fair share of girlfriends, and little hookups, and to be quite frank—he didn’t think he was done either.
how was he supposed to know the first night he met you, bent over his backseat, was about to be the start of the most serious relationship he’d ever have.
that night started the first of many, slowly realizing he was only asking to hookup just because he wanted to see you. how he’d send a pickup text, with a frown on his cheeks because he thought you were only in it for that reason.
and when he finally swallowed his stubbornness, he was met with the most amazing two years of his life, stuck with you by his side.
college bf!suguru who, until he met you, hardly even dreamt about a future where the love of his life would carry his child in her arms, kissing his cheek and brewing a cup of coffee for the two of them to share in the morning.
he didn’t even care to imagine what that future would be like, what the woman would look like. it didn’t feel achievable, or even desirable until he fell in love with you.
and it was a random realization, but looking back on it—it was building. slowly.
weeks and weeks spent of you just pampering him, praising him, for even the most average things. like, getting an amazing score on an exam, and all you had to do was say, “aw! good job, baby!” before he was putty in your fingertips.
his room is all messy, deep dark circles under his eyes. it was procrastination’s fault—his fingers hurt from typing on his computer all day thanks to waiting until hours before a huge essay was due.
you offered to leave his apartment, to give him the concentration he needs to get it finished, but he was ushering a “no, no stay,” because he honestly didn’t want you to leave. so you stayed, situating yourself in the other room, occasionally popping in to check up on him—and eventually lay on his bed after he insists you to.
it’s only when he finally finishes—8 hours later and it’s already nighttime. his shoulders are slouched, his back is stiff and he’s walking out of his room with his closed computer weighing by his side.
and you’re still there.
not only are you still there, but you’re washing his dishes.
hair clipped back, sweatshirt engulfing your body and sweats tightly tied around your waist. you’re humming along to some music that plays over a speaker—quiet but loud enough to know what song is playing.
you look so utterly homey.
so…domestic.
like you’ve settled into your personal home after a long day at work, just blissfully scrubbing away on glossy white dishes that were previously eaten on. your clothes acknowledge that you’re comfortable, uncaring of what he sees you in.
although it’s not just the fact that you’re dressed like that—it’s the fact that you’re cleaning his things.
cleaning a mess you didn’t even make, just out of the kindness in your heart that’s making geto’s throat close and his palms sweaty. he’s in absolute awe that he doesn’t realize you’ve noticed his presence until you’re turning to face him.
“oh! did you finish?” you ask, turning the water off and rushing towards him.
he’s blinking, nodding slowly. “yeah—just submitted it.”
“yay! ‘m so proud of you!” you grin, lacing your fingers behind the back of his neck and pulling him in for a chaste kiss like you always do—but it feels so much different this time.
like you’re congratulating him on a big promotion, tugging on his work tie and kissing him until he’s forgetting his own name.
he feels like his ring finger is so cold, and there’s a missing heavy weight that’s never even been there in the first place.
like he’s an idiot for not tying you down on the spot—wrapping vows and vows around the two of you until you’re barely mobile.
and he wants to be your doting husband for the rest of his life. he wants to walk through his front door every evening with an awaiting kiss to his cheek, and a home-cooked meal fresh in his senses.
he wants to go to sleep with you in his arms every night, mumbling sweet ‘i love you’’s after flickering off the bedside lamp.
and maybe, just maybe one day, he wants to hear the gentle pitter patter of two little feet charging down the hallway.
this is accidentally freud coded (emphasis on accidentally)
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two questions to ask yourself when you start looking for pre-christian material in medieval literature:
1. when are these texts from
2. when did christianity come to this area
i can guarantee you in the vast majority of celtic-language sources (and others) the answer to 2. is several centuries before 1. and at that point you gotta ask yourself... how likely is it that these people would be writing about something that has not been a thing for them or anyone they know for, like, four hundred years (or, in many cases, eight or nine hundred years), especially given that most of the people doing that writing are not merely passively existing in a christian society but are, yunno, monks
there are exceptions! but there are way fewer exceptions than you think there are gonna be! and the exceptions are almost always extremely nebulous sub layers that can't be disentangled from the other layers (which are christian) with any certainty so are always somewhat speculative!
and most importantly those other layers are interesting too, but if you only ever treat them like dirt to dig through to get to something "real" underneath you're sure gonna be disappointed a lot of the time (and you're gonna miss a lot of cool shit that would be really exciting if this was an actual archaeological dig and not a metaphor)!!
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Hades defenders pls understand that just because your man got abused doesn’t mean he isn’t abusive himself.
He ripped out someone’s eyes, constantly shouts at those with a lower status at him for Persephone. It’s supposed to be attractive, but that is abusive behaviour.
He is a slave owner.
Minthe faces racism from his family. Yes she was abusive. But does that mean he can dismiss her feelings constantly? No, it doesn’t.
Demeter is constantly verbally assaulted by him. And this guy will turn around and say ‘why do you not like me 😭🥺’
Hades is abusive. There’s multiple types of abuse. Stop acting like physical abuse is the only type of abuse ever because it is insulting that you’re implying it.
Hades can be manipulative, verbally abusive, physically abusive (ripping out someone’s eyes and then being mean to them after again and again is abuse) and manipulative and y’all stans will be like… ‘oh no, anyway’ BUT get mad when he gets criticism for being a piece of shit
Also
If anyone can think of another instance where this guy was abusive please add on
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I honestly feel like something that doesn’t get addressed enough when talking about self improvement irt not being a shitty person is self monitoring. Like
Yes, yes your friends and loved ones should absolutely address it with you if something you’ve done has hurt them, you can’t fix a problem you don’t know exists. It’s good to have those things communicated to you!
But I think when you lean into the “if something is wrong someone else needs to tell me” too hard, it becomes a sort of like. Almost rejection of your responsibility to monitor your own actions. Like it’s important to communicate with your loved ones about this stuff but when you never analyze your own actions and take a pause to consider how your words will affect other people, it hits a point where you’re not putting in the effort to be better; you’re just expecting everyone to do the hard part for you.
And ofc disclaimer that I’m not saying you should over analyze every little thing you do and bend over backwards to make people comfortable around you, what I’m saying is you need to watch yourself for shitty behavior instead of expecting people to always bring an issue to you.
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