They keep the barracks so damn cold at night. Supposed to build discipline, I guess. Makes me think of the bunk in Liberio, before the selection. That’s where I learned the real use for body heat. Not for comfort. For currency. A warm mouth on a cold cock can get you extra rations, a blanket, a moment where you’re not being watched. You learn to detach. To focus on the mechanics: the rhythm of your hand, the angle of your head, the exact pressure that makes a man’s thighs tremble. It’s just another skill. Like disarming a trap. Sometimes, in the mess hall here, I’ll watch one of the eager ones—Mikasa, maybe—and wonder if she’d understand that. That you can make someone spill their secrets just as easily as you can make them spill their cum. All it takes is knowing which buttons to press, and having zero attachment to the act itself. The coldest part of me isn’t the training; it’s knowing I could fuck any one of them to get what I need, and feel absolutely nothing when it’s done. That’s the real weapon they never issued.