His arm wasn't the only thing the Galra changed. They also gave him certain... needs. Shiro learns to make it work for him.

“I don’t care for that honorifics crap. Well, I guess Ygritte hasn’t told you, did she?” “Told me what?” “What I thought. Just call me Robb. I don’t get off on people calling me titles.” “And what do you get off to then? If I may ask.” “Sure you can. I get off on people trusting me to do right by them. Which means that unless everyone is happy, it doesn’t work for me.” Or: where Theon Greyjoy and Robb Stark walk into Ygritte's BDSM club one evening. Calling it good karma is probably an understatement.

Xiao Xingchen’s hip jerked toward the wand, but against the wide fix of the spreader bar between his knees, he had little leverage. Song Lan just moved the wand with him.

Soap took a deep breath to try to steady his nerves, "Ah, are you conscious or unconscious?" "Let's say unconscious, new arrival so no sensory or sleep deprivation as of yet. What is the first step?" He hadn't moved, arms crossed against his chest and eyes not giving away a damn thing. "Securement." He was confident in that answer at least. "Alright, Soap. Secure me." With that, Ghost stood his full height, dropping his arms at his sides. Fuck. This was going to be more difficult than he thought. It felt incredibly wrong to stand here and imagine how he would tie up his superior. •OR• Soap is forced into a simulated interrogation with his Lieutenant and the information he learns about him isn't what he expected.