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bunny-lily · 4 months

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Tether Me - Chapter 4

Pairing(s): Geto/Gojo/Reader

Summary: Sweet, cold, saintly watermelon spread over your tongue and you ascended, tilting your head back as you nursed the popsicle like it was the ambrosia of the gods themselves.

Satoru skewed over and dropped his head on your shoulder, making you lour at him. You very much did not need someone else’s muggy body heat worsening the already unbearably humid air.

“Fan me,” he demanded, and you poked his cheek with your popsicle, leaving a sticky spot behind.

“Fan yourself,” you rejected.

Suguru chuckled to himself. “You’ll get used to it and learn how to manage.”

“Has this house really been abandoned for only 20 years?” You grunted as you forced a scraper under a crumpled section of a newspaper that might as well have been glued to the ground on purpose. Your arms trembled from the strain, knuckles drained of blood, your hands fighting for their lives to finally free the paper of its wooden prison.

With a shallow yelp from you, the scraper came loose, only taking a quarter of the browned paper with it. The section ripped partially through the head of a baseball player, giving him a rather unfortunate face lift.

“That’s what everyone says,” Suguru confirmed as he worked on scrubbing a chunk of the floor like he was trying to avenge someone. His nose wrinkled in disgust when he lifted the rag and observed the dark grime stuck to it. “I asked my gran, she said that she can’t remember the family’s name, something starting on ‘Fu’. Father, mother, and their son. The mother was diagnosed with some sort of illness that the village doctor couldn’t manage, so they had to go to the city.”

“Oh,” you frowned as you sat back on your heels. “Did she survive?”

He shrugged, dipping the rag into the bucket of once clean water beside him. “No idea. They weren’t super close with any of the villagers here, so there weren’t any updates after they left. I assume she didn’t, since they never returned here.”

“That’s sad,” you spoke low as you tossed the piece of ew away in the bag beside you. “I hope they’re okay, one way or another.”

The two of you worked together in the living room, peeling useless bits of goo and gunk to clean the house inch by inch. You'd already finished with the first pass of the kitchen, hallway, and master bedroom. After getting the go-ahead from Uncle Han a bit ago (you felt weird calling him that, but he insisted), you decided to start indoors to spare yourselves from the ever rising sun. With summer approaching, the lawn had been dealt with promptly, the three of you moving through it surprisingly speedily with teamwork.

Satoru, for all his rich boy credit, was actually helping. You were honestly expecting him to maybe work for five minutes, then laze around and whine about being bored, but you were pleasantly surprised by his productivity.

For one, he’d been gathering various architecture and designer house catalogues; stuff that was in, stuff that was out, and everything in between. Whatever might strike your fancy, he was there to offer his input, whether asked or not. You could tell he was having fun showing off expensive house designs, even if it was way too early to be looking at paint colors and matching furniture. He was acting like it was his house that was getting renovated.

He was also helpful with the physical labor portion of fixing this mess up, putting those beefy biceps to good use. He’d done some wondrous work in the kitchen.

That’s not to say he didn’t whine about boredom and hardship and whatnot, but at least he was working while doing so.

Presently, he was in the smaller room opposite to the master bedroom, addressing the tatami issue. Said issue being that the material was practically cemented to the floor below, strangely crunchy for being stiff as a brick, and very much showing its age.

He was experimenting with various methods for prying it off, at his own assertion. It gave him the opportunity to lean into that primal urge to break shit, and who were you to take that away from him?

Every few minutes, you’d hear a muted thud, some strangled noises, and a delightful little swear here and there. You’d learned that he quite hated tatami as a kid, annoyed that he had to be careful with it. He was grumpy that he couldn’t run about and stomp his feet like the spoiled child he was because it’d get damaged, then his folks would get mad. Now, he had the perfect excuse to take all that pent up anger out on some actual tatami.

“You think he’s having fun in there?” You asked as you lifted off another slice of the paper, turning it around in the tight pinch you held it in. Most of the words had faded off or bled from whatever liquid got onto it years prior. You could barely make out a cut-off phrase that made you snort. Left fielder is short!

Suguru sneered at the floor. “I sure hope not.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not having fun, so he doesn’t get to have fun, either.”

You rubbed your cheek against your shoulder, fighting the desire to scratch at the itch with your grubby, dirty hands. “Are boys always at each other’s throats like this?”

“Yes,” he answered bluntly, earning a half-laugh, half-cough from you.

You smiled apologetically at him. “I’m sorry. You really don’t have to do this.”

He shook his head as he got up, stripping off his yellow rubber gloves. “I’m not going to back out now after saying I’d help you. I’m gonna keep my word to you. But, I will go grab a drink and think about my life choices outside for a few minutes.”

You breathed out through your nose and waved lazily at him as he stepped out of the open front door, disappearing behind the wall. It was his idea to bring some options for hydration with him, and you lauded him as a genius for it. Even if a quarter of the options were cheap beer.

Deciding you earned yourself a break, too, you tossed whatever else you managed to free from the floor away, along with your gloves, and got up, shaking out your numb legs with a wince. Ow.

Sure, you’d done next to nothing compared to Suguru, but, oh, your back and arms felt so sore. Poor you. He could forgive you, couldn’t he?

Figuring you should check on Satoru, you trod down the hallway and stopped in the open doorway of the room he was occupying. He was turned halfway towards you, hunched over as he scratched aggressively at the floor with something you could only tell was made of metal. Sweat stuck to his forehead in a thick layer, droplets beading and running down his temples and the curve of his jaw. White hairs were plastered to his cheeks and brow, pale lashes clumped together, lips pulled into a wide grin.

A shiver dashed up your spine.

He looked positively feral.

You should probably leave him be, you didn’t want to get caught in his crossfire, lest you end up the target of his destructive goal.

You began to creep away, easing off the doorframe, hoping to avoid–

“Mochi!”

Damnit.

“Heyyy, buddy,” you greeted cautiously, meeting his gaze. His winter blues were alight with an untamed sort of fervor, sunglasses folded into the collar of his button-up. Had the moisture on the small of your back always been there? “How’s it goin’ in here?”

“It’s fuckin’ stubborn, but look!” He waved frantically to a boxy pile of…something. Vaguely tan and clumpy and gross. Listen, you weren’t very peeved out by nasty stuff as a kid, but even child you wouldn’t dare touch it.

Gojo, meanwhile, looked ecstatic, seemingly having figured out a method that worked. More or less.

The corners of your lips twitched upwards into a watery smile. Mainly because you were afraid that he’d pounce on you with that brutish glint in his intense stare if you didn’t show the appropriate amount of enthusiasm for his hard work.

“Wow!” You exclaimed, a smidge stiffly. “You’re doing a great job!”

Satoru ate that shit up. He glowed, preening under your praise, even if it felt like you were talking to a six-year-old kiddo wielding a hammer.

“I know!” He cheered. “This is fun!”

You questioned how long that zeal would last. You also debated whether or not you should tell Suguru that the maniac was having fun. You were curious to see what would happen, but you didn’t want to get dragged into the potential brawl they’d have.

The boy in front of you was panting, the collar of his shirt dampened by the droplets of effort he wiped off with it, and the temperature outside was rapidly rising. As hot as this image was, minus the eugh-factor of your house, you weren’t keen on him dying of exhaustion and leaving you short one extra pair of hands.

How noble of you.

“Wanna come take a break with me and Suguru?” You asked.

He glanced at where he paused his work, back to you, the floor, then you one more time before nodding. “Yeaaah, I did a lot, I deserve a lil’ break.”

He groaned as he pushed on his knees and rose up, absently dusting the front of his pants. You rolled your eyes at his show of theatrics, what with him stretching and whining. Not like you were any better, though.

“C’mon, you big baby,” you stepped out of the doorway, rotating to make your way down the hall.

That was, until you noticed something on the wall beside you. A black dot, or speck you hadn't seen before. A stain, perhaps; a blotch, something dark stuck to the old paint. You could've gotten it dirty(ier) while you were cleaning at some point. You leaned closer to try and decipher it, squinting–

Legs.

Not two, four, or six. Eight legs.

With a gagged gasp, you screeched and immediately booked it out of the house, adrenaline pumping through your system at mach speed. You nearly slipped as you banked the corner, your sights set on the open front door.

The blinding white of day was burning into your retinas, but you couldn’t care, you needed to get the hell out!

Instinctively, you threw yourself into a surprised Suguru’s arms the moment you stepped past the threshold as he peeked into the house, concerned by the commotion. He stumbled back a few steps, eyes wide, then released a humorous chuckle as his arms wrapped protectively around you. Sturdy, strong, safe.

“There, there,” he soothed, stroking a hand up and down your back, fingertips pressing into pressure points along your vertebrae. It was easy enough for him to figure out what got you so panicked. “You’re alright, it’s just a spider. I’ll get rid of it for you.”

“Oh, my god!” You squealed and shook like a leaf, air whistling past your larynx. “Suguru! It’s giant!”

He cooed sweetly at you, obviously entertained by your frazzled state. “It won’t hurt you, you’re fine.”

“I am not fine!”

His laugh rumbled low in his chest, right under your ear as you squeezed the life out of him. “I can’t remove it for you if you don’t let me go, angel.”

You bared your teeth at him. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

Suguru opened his mouth to respond, only to get preemptively cut off by a girlish scream originating from within the house. Seconds later, Satoru was dashing out, colliding directly with you and Suguru. A mix of stifled noises of shock erupted, and all three of you toppled right over onto the hard-packed soil.

Suguru’s arms encased more firmly around your form when Satoru tackled you, one thick arm coming to cradle the back of your head while the other constricted your waist until you were pressed immovably to his front. He pillowed your fall, even though it meant taking the brunt force of the ground’s swift ascent by himself. Satoru collapsed on top of you, leaving you sandwiched between the pair.

This was not how you imagined you’d experience your first yukadon.

Cheek pillowed by a rigid tit. Spine crushed by a dense body. Lungs utterly squashed. Lavender, cypress, and musk overwhelming your olfactory senses. Super sexy.

“Are you fucking stupid, Satoru?” Suguru hissed out, voice strained with pain, compression, and thinly-veiled anger.

“It’s fuckin’ huge, Suguru!” Satoru shrieked back. “Massive! Like, a meter long!”

Amber eyes glared over your head, still clutched to his pec. “Get the hell off, you’re crushing her. And me. You’re heavy as fuck.”

Gojo lifted himself up enough to peer at you, blinked, then laid right back down on top of you. Your wheeze of suffering did nothing to deter him. “But this is so comfy.”

“I will castrate you,” your personal airbag threatened.

Cyan eyes filled with spite as he finally rolled off of you and to the side, allowing Geto to loosen his hold until you could breathe freely. While Satoru was busy grumbling to himself and looking for his glasses, the pair having been flung off in the clamor, Suguru gazed down at you with worry pooled in his softened hues.

“You okay?” He asked.

You wiggled your toes and fingers, then nodded. “Thanks to you. I should be asking you that.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he put away your disquiet with a smile.

You frowned at his attempt at paying no heed to the subject. “That was a pretty bad fall.”

He snorted. “I work on a farm and grew up with Satoru. I’d hardly consider that a fall.”

“Oi!” Speak of the devil. The snow-haired boy had located his glasses, it seemed, as they were resting on the bridge of his nose, free of dirt and dust by some miracle. “Get up already, lovebirds.”

Fire exploded across your cheeks and the tips of your ears as you realized the position you were in – straddling your friend’s waist, chest-to-chest, his strong arms enclosing you to keep you close.

You yelped and scrambled out of his hold, keenly aware that you were only able to leap off of him and stagger away because he let you do so. He was laughing breathlessly as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, endeared by your embarrassed reaction. He grabbed the hand his best friend offered him, their palms clapping as he got tugged onto his feet.

Meanwhile, you were fanning your face in a hopeless attempt to cool the steam lifting from your head, swearing up and down that it was the budding summer heat and not because you got stacked like pancakes by two unreasonably attractive men.

Yeah, that’s what it was.

The sun.

The literal sun, not the sun incarnated in the form of a man that was currently busy brushing off his pants, aided by Satoru clearing his back of debris.

Thank the gods you had tossed the murderous stepping stones off to one corner of the house just a few days prior. You did not want to think about what would have happened to Suguru’s pretty body if you hadn’t.

“You sure you’re okay?” The above-mentioned man with said pretty body called out to you.

You startled in place and cried out the first thing that came to mind. “You’re hot!” Fuck. “I-I mean, it’s– it’s hot! Outside! Right now! We should, uh, stop here for the day!”

Good save.

Dumbass.

You would have smacked your own head with a brick if it wouldn’t attract their attention and make them think you were crazy. Or worse. Turned on.

Suguru and Satoru shared a glance, exchanging in a silent conversation, then Satoru was walking over to the bag of snacks the former brought along, digging around it for a can of soda. He retrieved a separate can of light booze for the other boy, passing it along as they both shortened the distance between you.

“You sure you wanna call it for the day?” Geto asked, his drink opening with an acute crack and tss, shortly followed by Gojo’s. Thank God they seemed to worn to tease you for your slip up.

Breathing deeply to settle your nerves, you dipped your head twice. “Yeah, it’s starting to get too hot for me.”

For too many damn reasons.

He hummed, sipping his drink as he peered at the chalk-haired boy, who took a sizable gulp in comparison. “Fine by me,” he ground out past the tingle of carbonation, fingers threading through damp, white tresses. “I don’t wanna die of heatstroke.”

“How about we head to the park, then?” Suguru suggested as he stepped away to shut the front door, like that’d prevent intruders or something. The extra security was unneeded, the house itself was enough of a deterrent. “We can stop at Granny’s on the way.”

“Sure,” you assented rather easily. You liked the park. Sitting in the shade, surrounded by the sweet fragrance of the flora there, sounded like a wonderful idea.

Satoru was not as keen. “In this heat? No way.”

His best friend patted his shoulder, gulping down a swig of his drink before responding. “You gotta touch grass at least once in a while, dude. C’mon, it won’t be so bad.”

“Fine. But if I die, I’m haunting you.”

“You’re not gonna die, don’t be a drama queen,” he said pragmatically.

You simpered to yourself as you went to grab Suguru’s backpack, zipping it up to keep everything inside. The last thing you needed was to embarrass yourself more by spilling everything. You grabbed one of the straps, ready to hoist it over your shoulder, just for a big hand to grab it by the top handle and tug it out of your palms.

You didn’t even get a second to prepare to fight for it, the coarse material easily slipping from your grip in a pathetic display of weakness. Your guard wasn’t up. You never stand a chance.

Your head snapped up to find Geto himself, his bag resting against his back as he held it by that same handle, fingers half-closed near his shoulder. He gave you a charming grin, eyes squinted from the squish of his cheeks.

“Hey!” You gaped, hopping up to your feet. “I can carry it, I’m not helpless!”

The hell you aren’t.

He tipped his head back to finish off his drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing and causing more sweat to form on your brow, then tucked the empty can into his pocket to properly toss out later. “You aren’t,” he agreed, ruffling your hair affectionately with his now free hand, “but what kind of gentleman would I be if I let the lovely lady do all the work?”

All the work? You barely did any work. But, you did like being called lovely, so you supposed you could let it go this once.

Satoru scoffed. “Gentleman? You watched Shoko lug a heavy ass box of shit up two flights of stairs just last week. Hardly call that gentlemanly.”

“You think I’m going anywhere near Shoko and her medical supplies?” Honey-toned irises shifted from you to him. “Hell no. She’d have my head on a pike if I even got close to them.”

“You won’t hold the door open for Utahime,” he accused.

“I’ve held the door for her before. The only person I wouldn’t hold the door for is you, Satoru,” Suguru’s hand drifted to rest below the nape of your neck, scorching the exposed skin there.

He pressed lightly, urging you to start walking with them in the direction of town.

The 6’3” child moped, his eyes drooping. “My own best friend hates me. Practically my brother, and he wants me to die.”

Geto rolled his eyes and bent down to stage-whisper to you. “Drama queen.”

“I heard that!” Satoru exclaimed.

“That was the point.”

You sighed with levity, shaking your head. “Could you two at least try to not kill each other until we get to Granny’s?”

“No promises,” they both responded in unison.

They bickered back and forth over your head, one using you as a shield while the other used you as an excuse to ‘behave’. Not that it stopped either of them from hurling immature threats and insults, each one making you think about how a butterfly felt more scary than either of them.

Or, your presence was taming them after all, and they were more vicious when they didn’t have someone standing guard. What would happen if you were on the other side of one of them? Would the result be the same?

Since when were you into psychology?

“Oi,” a finger jabbed into your cheek, bringing you back to the present, where your trio was crossing over the bridge. “Don’t zone out. Pay attention to me.”

You sent the offending boy a sidelong glance, meeting his intensely cobalt, insisting stare, yet he reveled in it all the same. Attention was attention.

“I’m not zoning out,” liar, “I’m just thinking.”

“About what? About us?” He teased, poking your cheek again.

He squawked and jumped back when you bluffed a strike at him, your teeth snapping dangerously close to his finger.

“Not like that!” He hissed, nursing his finger to his chest. He went as far as pressing the digit against the likely lukewarm can of soda he still had, exaggerating his obvious injury. You know, the one that didn’t exist.

Suguru barked out a laugh. “Like I said; drama queen.”

Satoru harrumphed, mumbling incoherent grievances as he pressed the rim of his drink to his lips, presumably to ‘politely’ muffle his quips with sips of carbonation.

You wanted to bully him a little more, ribbing him when you had the high ground was too much fun.

Geto would probably have more material for you to work with.

“Hey, Suguwu, do you–” you abruptly cut yourself off and slapped a hand over your mouth.

So much for high ground.

Satoru snorted his soda out through his nose and yowled, crying out in pain between guffaws as he clutched his hand over his lips in a hopeless attempt to catch any spare liquid.

Suguru raised a brow at you, a bemused smile spreading lazily across his face, turning his eyes into mirthful, mischievous crescents. “Pardon?”

Your entire face glowing a deep shade of vermillion. “I– can we just pretend–”

“Suguwu!” Gojo wheezed, arms coiling around his stomach, free hand grasping the side of his shirt for dear life. “Y’hear that, Suguwu? Think the lady has something to say, Suguwu. Hah!”

“Don't tease her so much, Satoru. I think it's cute,” he said, adjusting his backpack to hang on his back by one strap.

“Can you, please, just let me die now,” you grumbled, hiding your face with your hand placed flat along the side. You felt like you pulled the pin on a flashbang but forgot to throw it.

Gojo wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm, coughing out whatever liquid had gotten caught down the wrong pipe. You could hear him crooning at you, but you were trying desperately to focus on your destination as it came into view, hoping and praying that Granny would save you.

Or someone, anyone, else.

“Hello!”

Prayers answered! For once!

Your head perked up at the sound of a familiar voice as you approached the store, and you were immensely grateful for the divine timing of your arrival. Candied reprieve kissed your skin, easing your humiliation right away.

“Iori-san!” You called back, returning the wave she sent you in greeting. Spotting a head of brunette hair next to her, you shifted your attention to her companion, lighting up further with both relief and joy. “Oh, hey–”

“Aha!” Satoru jogged forward and spun around, throwing his arm around a less-than-amused Shoko’s shoulders. “This is Ieiri Shoko, she’s the doctor I warn– told you about!”

“Ah, we already met,” you grinned at Shoko, who gave you a ‘can you believe this shit?’ look.

“Wait, what?” He blinked at you. “Really?”

You nodded in confirmation. “Yeah. She called you an idiot.”

Suguru snorted into his palm, briskly facing away to poorly conceal his swallowed back laughter.

Satoru balked, blinking between you and your mutual friend when she shoved his arm off her. “When was this?”

“Uh…” You pressed your curved index against your chin, calculating. “Same day you and I met, actually.”

He looked completely aghast, utterly betrayed. “Wh– that was ages ago! Why didn’t you tell me!?”

You lifted and dropped your shoulders, grinning sheepishly. “Didn’t cross my mind?”

Deflating with a wispy wheeze that imitated a sad balloon, he pouted and turned his back on the entire group. “Can’t trust anyone around here. Keepin’ secrets, callin’ me a drama queen and an idiot.

Shoko rolled her eyes. “You are a drama queen and an idiot, Satoru,” she grunted and shook her head, then shot a relaxed smile your way. “Thanks for the macarons, by the way. They were delicious.”

“Yeah!” Utahime bobbed her head. “You’re an amazing baker.”

You scratched your neck with one hand and patted Satoru’s back with the other to comfort him. “I actually only know how to make macarons.”

Utahime shuffled closer to you, mouth parted with disbelief. “What? No way! I bet you’d make a great baker! Nothing like that idiot over there,” the bridge of her nose wrinkled with distaste as she sent the whining baby a scathing side-eye.

“I told you she bullies me!” He was looking your way in an instant. “It’s her fault I’m like this! How is any of this fair?”

“She’s older than you, so she gets to bully you,” Shoko stated. “Sibling rules.”

“We are not siblings!” Utahime shouted, nose and forehead flushed red with anger. “Shoko! How could you say that!”

Satoru took that statement and ran. “By that logic, I get to bully Suguru!”

“You already do,” Geto responded.

You blinked, and found a face unexpectedly very close to yours. “What about you, huh?” Ocean blues pierced into the depths of your soul. “You bully me a lot, too. Does that mean you’re older than me– agh!”

He clutched the back of his head where Iori had landed an expert hit, delivered with a precision mastered only after years of training. “Jerk! Don’t you know not to ask a woman her age!?”

“Why is everyone abusing me today? What did I do to any of you, huh?” He sniffled, bottom lip jutting out as he pinned his watery, puppy-dog eyes on you.

Okay, now you were starting to feel bad. Letting go of a shallow, defeated exhale, you opened your arms to him.

His expression changed to glee faster than you could realize, and within seconds, you were being crushed against his chest. You didn’t give consideration to how strong he was, woefully unaware that his forearms alone could exert enough pressure on your limbs to make a few joints pop.

“Yippee! I knew someone cared about me!” He stuck his tongue out at everyone else, then nuzzled himself deep into the crook of your neck.

Too hot, too hot, too hot!

“Yeah, yeah,” you hacked out, patting his back. “You can let me go, now.”

“No way,” he refused, breath tickling your collarbone. “This is the least I deserve.”

Shoko was in your peripheral, a wicked smirk on her lips as she stuck a cigarette between them. You mouthed help me to her, and gaped when she pretended to get distracted and miss your S.O.S. request.

Screw Shoko, Utahime was your favorite person now. She was by you in a snap, prying the arms of steel keeping you caged off of you. Her strength was impressive, especially given that Satoru was actively fighting her on it. There was a hand on your shoulder, coaxing you to duck down under their arms, and dash into the safe haven that was Granny’s shop.

Sweet, sweet AC.

You visibly shuddered as a blast of arctic air hit you. Heaven was in all the things easily taken for granted.

The chime of the bell summoned the old lady out of thin air – or it might have been her ‘you’ senses, she had a keen perception for when you’d be coming.

“Oh, hello!” She welcomed you warmly, wholly ignoring the second person with you as she scurried across the floor to reach you.

Granny grasped you by the shoulders and pulled you close, pressing a couple wet, loud kisses on your cheeks, right in front of your ears, making your eardrums pop. Your theory that the sound of kisses grew louder with age was gaining credence.

“How are you feeling, dear? You aren’t working too hard, are you?” She planted the back of her hand against your forehead, steamrolling right along and not giving you a chance to respond. “Oh, my, you’re so warm! Are you feeling feverish? Sick? I’m telling you, you should leave that house to the men who are used to working in those conditions.”

“Granny–”

“Sit, sit, let me get you some water,” she nudged you towards the familiar stool you’d taken respite on many times now, ready to zip away to retrieve that promised glass of water.

“Hey, Granny,” Suguru interrupted that plan by raising a hand in greeting, only to be subsequently pummeled by an angered grandmother. “Ow–”

“Some man you are, letting a lady get ill!” She shamed him.

You immediately hopped up, bolting to his rescue. “Granny! Granny, I’m not sick, it’s okay! It’s just hot outside today.”

She stopped her volley of attacks on the poor, innocent man to take in your appearance. She lifted your arms, eyeing down your figure carefully, then hmphed.

“My apologies, darling,” she reached up to pinch Suguru’s cheek, which somehow looked more painful than the fairly weak smacks she delivered earlier. She was easily able to tug him down to be eye-to-eye with her. “But you have been taking care of her, haven’t you?”

Still, he put on a smile and nodded. “Of course, I have been.”

She smiled broadly at him and released his cheek, patting it gently twice. “My, what a good boy you are. But, if I hear you’ve been mistreating her, I won’t hesitate to beat you with my geta and bury you beside that fish of yours.”

Suguru grimaced as he rubbed the tender spot she had pinched, rising back up to his full height. “Ouch, Granny. Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping an eye on her.”

You planted your hands on your hips, eye twitching with irritation. “I’m right here. And, I can take care of myself, you know?”

“I carry extra bottles of water because you always underestimate how thirsty you get,” he fired back. “You sweat it out faster than you think you do.”

You coughed into your fist. That was fucking embarrassing. Now you were worried you had a sweating problem. “Maybe I’m a little forgetful, but it’s not that bad.”

This time, Granny was on your ass. “You need to take better care of yourself!”

“Granny–”

“What if you didn’t have such a dependable, strong, young man to take care of you?” She tutted in disappointment. “What about when your husband is away at work?” – HUSBAND!? – “Will you forget to drink water then, too?”

You half-inhaled your spit, looking up towards Suguru for help in getting out of your pseudo-grandmother’s scolding–

You almost questioned if you were imagining the flashing dots outlining him – or, rather, where he used to be. A quick twist of your head proved he had already sauntered off somewhere towards the back of the store, if the thump of a fridge door was anything to go by.

“Are you listening to me, young lady?” Holy shit, for being an older woman, her pinches hurt.

“Ai– yes, I’m listening,” you assured her, wincing. Looks like you had no savior to get you out of this one. There was some muffled yelling outside the glass pane behind you, implying that the three that didn’t come in were too busy squabbling to see you getting reprimanded.

Though, knowing Satoru, he’d just use this as ammunition against you.

She jiggled your cheek. “Very good. You’re a beautiful woman, you need to take care of yourself. Lots of water, avoid direct sunlight, make sure you eat well, all that. Understood?”

“Understood,” you assented.

That good-natured smile of hers was back, and you were pulled into yet another hug. “D’aw, I can’t stay mad at you, you’re too sweet. Don’t go letting anyone take advantage of that.”

There was only so much of the embrace you could return when your arms were pinned to your sides by your unnaturally brawny kinda-grandma, leaving you to awkwardly prop your chin on her shoulder. “I know, Granny.”

That was a lesson you learned a long time ago.

You observed Suguru as he walked between the aisles while he grabbed some stuff, his head sticking out high above the shelves. When he emerged back out at the front, you were seated on the stool that basically belonged to you at this point. He carefully set his gathered spoils on the counter next to the cash register, then slipped past you to go behind the counter.

His hand briefly rubbed your knee, something you noticed he did from time to time. While he wasn’t nearly as touchy as Satoru, who didn’t know the definition of personal space, he did often give you comforting nudges like that.

You noted with curiosity how familiar he seemed with ringing up his products by himself, working swiftly to tally them. Based on Granny’s lack of reaction when she returned with a mug, she trusted him to pay properly.

Smooth ceramic was placed within your palms, and you brought it up to guzzle down the life-saving liquid within. Damn, Suguru was right, you had no idea how thirsty you were. In terms of hydration, anyway. You were painfully aware of your other shortcomings.

“How’s that house of yours coming along?” She asked, resting a weathered hand on your upper thigh.

You hummed past a gulp, then answered. “Good, I think. We’re still washing the floors, but we’ve already cleaned up a lot. Satoru’s been dealing with the tatami in one of the rooms. It’s been stubborn as hell so far.”

“Try soaking it for a while beforehand,” she suggested. “And ventilate well. Goodness knows what’s been in there.”

Comforting. “We have been, don’t worry. Suguru managed to get all the windows open, which has been a huge relief.”

The elder leaned in close to you, ‘whispering’ in what could have only been a singular decibel quieter than normal talking. “See? Reliable, strong man. He’d take good care of you, I’ve known him since he was a child. Very dependable.”

Wha–

Was she trying to set you up with him!?

You glared at him when you heard him laughing under his breath, having heard her suggestion. It’d be more shocking if he didn’t.

Instead of coming to dispel her wild offer, he stuffed his goods away into a bag and walked towards the exit. You got up to follow after hastily finishing your drink and letting her take the empty mug from you, fully intending to give them both a piece of your mind the next chance you got. “Thank you for the water, Granny. We’ll head out, now.”

“I left some extra cash for you, Granny,” Suguru said as he held the door open for you. “From my mom, paying you back.”

She clicked her tongue. “I told her not to worry about it. Be safe, you two. Suguru, tell your mother to sleep with one eye open.”

“Will do,” he agreed too easily for such a casual threat, pushing you out into the humid summer air, and you were tempted to return to the sanctity of her air-conditioned shop.

“You’re back! Thank God!” Utahime ushered you further away from your salvation, to which you whined and peered back at it forlornly. “Come with me to the shrine! I found more mythological history books recently, and you promised to tell me about Sne– sneguh– snah?”

“Snegurochka,” you corrected.

“Yeah! Her!”

A limb wrapped around your middle, drawing you back into a board chest. “No can do, Utahime!” Satoru shut her down cheerily, pressing his cheek against yours. “She already agreed to go on a date with me to the park.”

Utahime’s appalled expression was mirrored in your own. Her upper lip lifted in a snarl directed at your captor and…date, apparently.

“Like hell! I’m not letting you corrupt my friend!” She growled.

“Corrupt?” He pouted, playing the part of virtuous maiden. “Me? Why, I’d never.”

Suguru crossed his arms over his chest. “With us, Satoru. Don’t forget about me.”

“Hard to when your head is so big,” the other boy snapped in return.

You gawked at Geto, disbelieving. He was supposed to be your savior! “It is not a date! Don’t go making Iori-san and Shoko think the wrong things!”

“Welp, I gotta head back to the clinic,” Shoko said as her name was called, beginning to walk past. She patted your bicep on the way. “Good luck.”

“Shoko!” You cried out after her. “Come back here!”

She merely waved over her shoulder with her cigarette pinched between her fingers, blowing out a stream of smoke.

Utahime cupped your face in her hands, expression taut with seriousness. “Blink twice if they’re holding you prisoner.”

You heard ‘blink’ and went with it, batting your eyes as fast as you could.

“I knew it!” She bayed, tugging at Satoru’s arms – but she couldn’t free you. “Let go of her, you dog!”

He jerked his head towards the hill her shrine sat atop and gasped theatrically. “Oh, no! Is that a fire near your shrine?”

“What!?” She whirled around in horror, opening up the opportunity for him to tow you away, one arm staying around your waist while he led you into an unwilling sprint.

“Ohp, so sorry, guess I was wrong!” He yelled back, giggling at the rage painted all over her twisted expression.

“Satoru!” She shrieked, watching with grit teeth as Suguru jogged to catch up. “Yeah! Get him, Suguru–” Her jaw dropped when he grabbed your hand with his free one, making you run faster. “Oh, Heaven’s sake, not you, too!”

What the fuck! You didn’t agree to extra exercise today! And poor Utahime! You really hoped she wasn’t assuming things about your relationship with the men.

“Hey– guys! Slow down, damnit!” You heaved out. “Ugh! You two are awful!”

They simply laughed, hauling you right along to the park. Their long ass strides made this hell for you, and you were certain that if the park wasn’t so close, you would have eaten shit and died from the amount of times you stumbled. Their tight grips kept you from falling, and you partially wished they’d just let you collapse.

Pavement gave way to grass, the impact of your shoes becoming dulled. After running a few steps further, they finally gave you mercy and let go of you, slowing their gaits to a stop.

You slapped your hands against your knees, greedily sucking in air through the ache in your throat.

“You two–” pant, “really–” pant, “fucking–” pant, “suck.”

Satoru snickered and smoothed a hand over your messy tendrils, ignoring your death stare, finding it humorous in your current state. “Aww, come on! That was fun!”

“You’re gonna give Iori-san and Shoko the wrong idea,” you groaned, wiping wetness off your brow.

He feigned innocence. “What idea?”

Bastard.

“That we– tch,” you took in one more deep breath to catch your breath. “Nevermind. Shut up.”

“Don’t be like that!” He purred, right on your tail as you trudged to a nearby maple tree.

With the impromptu run, plus the season, the heat was finally getting to you. For all of Satoru’s bravado, you took solace in the fact that it also looked like the temperature was affecting him.

You flopped down under a maple tree you picked out and loafed back on your palms, trying to survive the immense wave of evil weather that chose to sweep across the valley. You felt like you were turning into a prune, or a sponge that got tossed into an oven set on broil, despite all the sweating. You weren’t a stranger to high summer temperatures, but this was asininity.

Somehow, you survived the trip to the park, mourning the glacial morning dew that had long since evaporated, leaving the grass tepid at best. But you’d take anything, whatever it cost to keep you from roasting like a fine crème brûlée.

Satoru dropped down beside you, not doing much better than you, and Suguru slumped against the bark of the hulking plant, taking respite under it.

The shrill songs of cicadas took presence everywhere, chirping and pestering the females in hopes of copulating and passing along their live-underground-for-17-years genes.

You were immensely happy that you managed to clear out most of your lawn before the true harshness of the season kicked into full swing. You would not have lived through that, and doing it at night would have been too dangerous.

Work was very far from what you wanted to think about, though.

“Why the fuck is Japan so hot in summer,” you lamented, lethargically fanning yourself with a slack hand. It did zilch to help. “How do you deal with this?”

You squealed when something chilly touched your forehead and squinted up to see Suguru holding out a popsicle to you. You grabbed it without a second thought and ripped off the plastic covering, stuffing the crumpled ball back in his awaiting hand.

Sweet, cold, saintly watermelon spread over your tongue and you ascended, tilting your head back as you nursed the popsicle like it was the ambrosia of the gods themselves.

Satoru skewed over and dropped his head on your shoulder, making you lour at him. You very much did not need someone else’s muggy body heat worsening the already unbearably humid air.

“Fan me,” he demanded, and you poked his cheek with your popsicle, leaving a sticky spot behind.

“Fan yourself,” you rejected.

Suguru chuckled to himself. “You’ll get used to it and learn how to manage.”

“Speak for yourself,” the man using your side as a bed snarked. “Been here my whole life and I still feel like I’m dying.”

You chomped off a bite of your snack with your molars, flinching at the slight sting, then relaxed as the chunk rested on your tongue. Bless Suguru and his mother hen tendencies. Towards you, anyway. He seemed to find humor in his best friend’s suffering up to a certain point.

The newly purchased, refrigerated, highly-sugary fizz he bought while at the store showed he did care at the end of the day.

Summer in rural Japan smelled nice. That was about all the praise you were capable of giving this hellish landscape when you were getting steamed like a damn dumpling. Winter you could deal with; in winter, you could just add extra clothes or blankets or whatever for more warmth. You could only get so naked in summer before you were melting into a gross puddle.

“I wanna skin myself,” you slurred around your icy treat.

Suguru snorted. “That’s morbid.”

You bored into him blankly, examining his clothes – light-colored long sleeves and full-length, loose pants versus your tank top and flappy shorts. “How the hell are you dealing with this so well?”

He simply shrugged and gave you that closed-eye smile that always had your insides doing funky things they flat-out were not allowed to do. “I’ve always preferred summer.”

Hm. It added up. You always associated him with the sun – warm, inviting, making you want to lay somewhere soft and bask in his glow. But that feeling was warmth, not sweltering fire making your muscles shed off your very bones.

“You’re a beast,” you mumbled, unsure if you were admiring or fearing him. “What ‘bout you, Toru?”

“Ehh?”

“Season.”

“What about it?”

You whined and placed your head on his. “Pay attention, idiot.”

“Well, excuse me, princess. I’m busy trying to not die of heatstroke over here,” he pinched your thigh, making you yelp.

You flicked the back of his hand in retaliation. “What’s your favorite season?”

“Oh,” he pried his limpid orbs open and eyed you from over the rim of his sunglasses. Those glistening, forget-me-not hues never failed to whisk your breath away. “Spring.”

“Good choice,” you approved.

Suguru bent down from the tree, angling his head to the side as he pointed a finger at himself. “Oh? Is my choice not good?”

“Ask me again when I don’t feel like I’m evaporating,” you muttered, taking another bite of your ice snack and plainting at the sharp pain radiating in your teeth for a few seconds. He merely laughed in the voice that had you feeling twice as flushed, instantly soothing the pain away.

“Don’t eat it like that if it just hurts you,” the silver-blond grumbled, his eyes already closed again as he fought to fend off the temperature mentally, if he couldn’t spare himself physically.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you huffed pettishly.

You partially closed your eyes and lazed back on your free palm, absentmindedly licking up the melted drips before they landed on your hand and coated it in residue. More than they already had, anyway.

A welcomed breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees surrounding you, a relieving balm against scalding skin that had all three of you sighing in alleviation. It rustled the yellow of the leaves above your head, creating a mesmerizing show of dancing golden fans, their edges dipped in crimson.

The droning chirps of cicadas, the tweets of birds calling to their brooding mates as they brought back food from a successful hunt, the fragrance of blooming flowers being pollinated, having their nectar gathered in preparation for being turned into honey – all of it surrounded you in a deep serenity you didn’t know you were capable of feeling.

Your head was optimistically empty, merely taking in the ambiance in fine detail. The lush, fluffy grass underhand tickled your wrist and the back of your hand, and the pleasant silence with your closest friends made you…happy.

You’d been happy for a while now, but never stopped to notice it until this moment.

You found two idiots and two other kind-of-normal people to call friends, and you always ardently anticipated hanging out with them, rather than dreading it. You were pouty when they were busy, and ecstatic when you could all gather together.

Especially these two dumbasses, Tweedledee and Tweedledum. You spent most of your time with them, doing things that reminded you of the nostalgic highschool and college years you didn’t recall having.

You ruminated on how different your life would have been if you knew them from childhood; if you went to school with them, grew up as neighbors, mourned when Satoru left for his studies, celebrated when he returned. Would you have still ended up like this, a paranoid kite that was running out of thread to cut?

Or would you have been normal – or, at least, normal-adjacent? How would being raised in Japan differ from your home nation?

…

Home nation.

What was your home nation, again?

All that came to mind was here, now, with your best friends on either side of you. You knew where you were born, but that seemed so far away, now. You didn’t remember what the sky looked like over there – if you caught a glimpse of it at all in the first place.

Reflecting back left an odd emotion welling in your chest, like you were forgetting something. You wouldn’t say melancholy, nor yearning. It wasn’t nostalgia, either, seeing as you were semi-nomadic for a good portion of your life. You didn’t stay in one place long enough to form attachments to anyone or anything.

When you tried to think about your childhood friends, you saw Geto, Gojo, Ieiri, and Iori. The boys were smaller, childlike, with chubbier cheeks and brattier attitudes, but your boys regardless. You remembered how Satoru was the class clown that frequently set off your teachers, while Suguru egged him on from the backlines, purposefully getting on his nerves.

Shoko was there, too, watching with a shit-eating grin and not doing anything to help. Utahime at least tried.

And then there was you.

You didn’t really know if you were there or not. Just a spectator, possibly, but it didn’t seem like that. Not an empty, silent, emotionless observer, no. You couldn’t put your finger on it. What you were was there, on the tip of your tongue, you just didn’t know the word for it.

These memories weren’t real, you knew that. But it didn’t hurt to imagine they were, especially when they felt like they were.

You could see yourself growing up with them, spending days lazing under the shade just like you were now, losing half the water in your body under the unforgiving summer sun and turning into a sort of sad excuse for a cucumber. You could remember the sharp sting of a wadded up piece of paper hitting your temple from across the table, your head shooting up so you could glare at jubilant Satoru that concluded throwing notes at you from two feet away was a better use of his time than just whispering or, gods forbid, studying.

You were certain he did it specifically because it pissed you off, and because he was unafraid of repercussions from the teacher. Discipline didn’t exist in his dictionary. Suguru would grab the wad from your other side to toss it right back and nail his best friend in the center of his forehead, leading to a paper ball fight that you were, unfortunately, directly in the middle of.

Shoko and Utahime, the lucky bitches, were smart to choose seats a few tables back, safely out of the firing and collateral range.

You tried to join the two several times, yet the boys somehow always managed to sit you right back between them. You were their ‘mediator’, even though you tended to exhort them rather than soothe. You did calm them down, but only after you, Shoko, and Utahime had a good show. It was payback for all the times they dragged you into their messes.

Other memories filtered in bit by bit, sporadic sections popping up as they pleased; dying on the track field together, sparring against one another, learning vague concepts in a classroom that scarcely had anyone in it. You and Satoru would crack stupid jokes until you were both in stitches, Suguru would be there when your thoughts became too much to handle, Shoko was the one to mend you with a touch that felt both toasty and mellow at the same time.

There weren’t a lot of you, but you had each other, and that was all you needed. You had your friends by your side, and you were complete.

You were pulled from your woolgathering when you felt someone pluck your popsicle from your hand, your eyes flying open to gawp at Suguru in disbelief as he took a sizable bite out of it, then returned it innocently, as if he hadn’t just robbed you blind.

“Hey!” You cried out. “Thief! That was mine! You said you were fine in summer!”

“I said I prefer summer, not that I’m immune to it,” he corrected you, licking off a spot of juice from the corner of his mouth. Such a simple action from him legally wasn’t allowed to be that devastatingly attractive, yet here he was, casually breaking the law and sending you into disarray. “Besides, I paid for it.”

“Unfair,” you pouted, staring down at your now half-gone heatstroke preventer. “You can’t just give me something, then take it back.”

He chuckled and knelt beside you. “Relax, I’ll buy you another one.”

You instantly perked up. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Will you buy one for me, too, Suguwu?” Satoru flapped his long eyelashes and stuck out his lower lip.

“No.”

“What!?” He sprung upright. “Now that’s unfair! It’s favoritism!”

Suguru snorted and dropped the bag between your knee and Satoru’s, which the latter took to like a raccoon to a dumpster. He dug around inside the plastic until he located his drink and held it up like Arthur did with Excalibur.

Only Gojo could down this amount of sugar in a single day and not suffer the consequences, you mused, watching him greedily gulp at the borderline dessert. Maybe there was some merit to his body being godly, after all.

“Hey,” Gojo called out after chugging a solid 2/3rds of the soda. “What are those, uhhhh…maple syrup snow candies called?”

“I think they're just called maple syrup snow candies,” you filled in.

“Maple candy, or maple taffy,” Suguru enlightened you. “Popular treat in winter in Canada.”

Satoru gave a thumbs-up in appreciation. “Yeah, those. I want one of those.”

You lamented. “It’s the middle of summer.”

“But they sound so cold and good. Mm…I can taste it already. I just know they'd save me from this god awful heat. Thanks for the soda, by the way, Suguru.”

Geto hummed in acknowledgement.

An idea flittered into your mind and you sat ramrod straight, clapping your hands together and grabbing their attention. Satoru grunted, slipping partially off you. “Let’s go to the river!”

“Hm,” Suguru considered it. “Not a bad idea, might help us cool down.”

You celebrated at obtaining his approval and passed the rest of your popsicle to Satoru, who devoured it in a single chomp.

A large hand was offered to you in way of assistance and you grabbed it, getting pulled easily with a short ‘hup’ from your aide. He inspected your form for a moment, then plucked a fallen leaf from the top of your head, twisting it between his digits. When a gale lifted, he released it, letting the unseen hands of the sky carry it away.

Satoru was up on his feet, too, the plastic bag in his hand crinkling from the shift in position. “Let’s go!”

He took the lead, speed-walking through the park to reach the shallow slope that allowed easy access to the river. For someone who was about as dead as you minutes ago, he obtained an infectiously energetic zest out of nowhere. Motivation is a hell of a drug.

You caught up to him and skipped forward, unburdened by needing to carry anything like the pair. Already able to feel the refreshing bite of the water as it came into view, you picked up the pace, racing towards the cure to your ails.

You tore off your tank top in the process and threw it somewhere carelessly, stumbling out of your sandals as you neared upon the shoreline of the river. Leaving them behind on a boulder, you skidded down the bank to the icy waters and jumped in, dressed in your shorts and sports bra.

A shrill cry and jubilant hoot echoed in the valley as goosebumps coated your skin, prickling the hair on your arms and nape. Frigid liquid surrounded you, abruptly replacing torrid solstice with frozen tundra.

“Fuck, cold!”

Satoru was rolling up his pant legs, his own button-up having been disposed of like your top. Just as eager to experience the same liberation you did, he toed off his shoes and ripped off his socks, then he was kicking up water next to you as he joined you. The crystalline liquid came to about mid-thigh for him, but that didn’t stop you being able to see all the hairs on his body stand on end all at once.

“Cold!” He echoed you.

You laughed, running your wet hands through your hair. “That’s what I’m saying!”

Not wasting a second, he threw a handful of water onto you, making you twist your body to avoid the splash. You shrieked from the pellets of frost raining down on you, his icy-toned orbs brimming with mirth at your reaction.

Suguru was still on the shore, more composed and patient than either you or his best friend. He went about methodically locating both your and Satoru’s shirts, setting them down on the ground beside the bag and his backpack, then focused on his own clothes.

He slipped off his shoes and socks, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and legs of his pants, and stepped into the river.

Just to get grabbed and pulled further in by Satoru before he could get acclimated to the pressure of the running stream.

He took in a shallow breath, bounding forward to keep his balance and not fall splat into the rapid. “Satoru!”

“Come on!” Lanky fingers pushed back ivory hair. “Relax a bit, would ya?”

Chestnut eyes narrowed. “There’s a difference between relaxing and getting waterboarded.”

Gojo huffed. “Yeah? How would you know what getting waterboarded feels like?”

“How many times have you nearly drowned me in your hot spring?”

“I wasn’t trying to drown you.”

“So, you admit it’s waterboarding, then?”

The two were distracted, arguing about drowning technicalities, which meant they weren’t paying attention to you.

Perfect.

You sank down into the flowing water, shivering from the hibernal wet as it surrounded you. Once you were absolutely certain they had no idea what you were up to, you made your move.

Crawling along the riverbed, you let the flow guide you, using the sound of water breaking to further creep up on your companions.

You could hear the Jaws theme slowly ramping up in your mind, each beat growing louder as you neared. Trembles wracked your body, caused by a mesh of the nippy waters and budding adrenaline.

A little further, you were too far…still too far…almost…

“Rrah!” You jumped out the moment you were within range of your target, unleashing your fiercest battle roar as you threw yourself onto Satoru’s back and wrapped your arms around his neck.

The man choked in surprise, and based on the way he promptly lost balance and dropped like a rock into the waters with a heady splash, you could proudly say you caught him off guard. You both surfaced with deep gasps of breath, and you were on top of him as soon as he sat up.

Using your position of straddling his thighs to your advantage, you skipped past the torture and went straight for the kill.

Your fingers grabbed his sides and started lightly scratching at them.

Satoru hiccuped and howled, writhing and trying to shove you off him as you attacked him with endless tickles. “Wait! S-Stop, no! That tickles!”

“Give up your throne, Gojo Satoru!” You demanded, doubling down on the siege on his crown. “Name me king, or I will never stop!”

He easily turned into a blubbering mess despite his attempts to stay stoic and strong. “N-No way! Oh, god– stop! Please!”

“Not until you hand me your crown!”

“Never! I’ll–” you pinched his hip and he yowled. “Okay! Fuck, fine, it’s yours, just spare me! Please!”

“Yes!” You released him at long last and threw your arms in the air in victory. “I’m the king of this valley! Haha, suck it!”

You climbed off Satoru as he took deep breaths to calm himself, turning your focus on Suguru, who was losing his shit on the shoreline. Wheezes slipped past his lips, the boy barely getting a chance to inhale before he was cackling all over again.

Standing with your legs shoulder-width apart and one fist on your hip, you pointed at Geto authoritatively. “You! Surrender to me now or face the punishment of one thousand tickles for defying the king!

“Oh, god,” he heaved, arms clutching his ribs to keep himself together. Bunny lines formed on the bridge of his nose, brows pinched tight, tears springing to the corners of his amber eyes. “I can’t, the threat of tickles is too much. I surrender, I surrender!”

“The king is triumphant! All hail the king!” You thundered, throwing your head back to unleash a demonic chortle that soon turned into real laughter. “Mark my words, on this da–”

Powerful hands pushed against your side, and you went crashing unceremoniously into the river.

Poor Suguru was wiping away more tears at the point of you reemerging, flushed red from head to toe from the exertion.

“This is a coup!” Satoru announced. “I’m taking back the crown!”

“Wh– no fair!” You objected, wiping your face free of water. “I won that fair and square!”

He beamed down at you, summer skies reflected in his spring eyes. “Come and get it, then!”

An all-out war was waged then between you and Satoru, a motley of screams, hollers, and demands getting thrown back and forth at one another. The activity and sweltering sun kept your blood thermal within the oasis of the numbing waterway.

This pearl of time belonged to the three of you and the three of you alone. The seconds slowed infinitely, and though they never came to a true stop, they lasted longer than the birth, life, and death of a distant star. This, to you, was paradise. Your skin was frosty, but your heart was blooming as you skylarked and frisked with people you’d met only a short time ago, but treated like you’d known one another all your lives.

The limits of your joy seemed to shatter with each passing day, expanding more than you ever thought possible. Hell, you never so much as considered that experiencing exultation to this degree was possible in and of itself, but you basked in it all the same.

As long as it lasted, you would savor it.

The sun was beginning its descent when your trio chose to end your excursion, feeling sufficiently chilled.

“Brr,” you quivered as you made your way out, squeezing water out of your hair. “My fingers are like icicles.”

“Come on, ladybug,” Suguru offered you his hand, which you took gratefully, allowing him to guide you out of the river. “That’s enough for today, you’ll catch a cold. Let’s go get you warmed up.”

You moaned in complaint at the thought of having to walk all the way back home. You really should have considered it before deciding to take a dip. Curse your spontaneity. “I forgot, Satoru’s house is on that damn mountain.”

“We’re going to my place,” he corrected nonchalantly, as if it’d been long decided. “It’s closer, and my folks are out for the weekend.”

A hand towel was dropped on your face by Satoru, probably one Suguru brought with him when packing his backpack earlier in the day.

“Dry off, princess,” Satoru instructed you as he crouched down by Geto’s backpack, popping open a bottle of water to knock back. He tossed a second one towards the noiret, who caught it with ease.

He waited for you to finish rubbing as much water off your head as you could before he twisted the top of the bottle off and handed it to you with a pointed look. A veiled threat to drink before I make you.

Well, jokes on him, you actually did want to drink water.

You took it from him and gulped down half the fluid inside it without hesitation. By some boon, you had the self control to stop before you got sick, and returned the water with a thank-you. Suguru took it upon himself to finish the rest of it.

Satoru snatched the towel from you, replacing it with your tank top (also placed on your head). You blew him a raspberry and tugged it on, cringing at the feeling of your dry (sorta) clothing getting caught on your damp skin. Maybe you should have considered bringing a towel. You would have, if you’d known beforehand that you’d be making a stop at the river.

You hooked your fingers into the back straps of your sandals when they were handed to you, the other two following suit. The village was kept clean, so none of you were worried about stepping on anything concerning, especially since Suguru’s house was right nearby.

“Ready to go?” He asked you, and you nodded.

His palm had returned to its normal calidity, something you noticed as he helped you up the slope. The boy’s body ran like a damn furnace, even after playing in the stream for a couple hours with you. Granted, he somehow managed to keep himself dry above the knees, but regardless.

All three of you were tired out, and you were looking forward to unwinding for the evening. The two boys didn’t bicker much, some light teasing in quieter tones, and – as promised – the trip to Geto’s home was short. You were standing within the genkan of his house in no time, waiting patiently while he disappeared further in to grab a couple towels.

His house resembled the buildings around the middle of town, sitting on the side of the river your house did. There was a stretch of land behind it, but you didn’t get a chance to see much, having been ushered into the cozy abode.

Being a bit nosy, you peeked around. There was a staircase leading up that hugged the wall of a turn to your left, leaving only the bottom few steps visible to you. The hallway straight ahead was clean and minimalist, likely leading to a dining room, if you had to guess.

Each home had its own unique smell, and his smelled of spices and something faintly earthy, like fresh soil.

“Here we go,” Suguru announced his return, rounding the corner with a few towels in tow. He tossed one down at your feet above the genkan, motioning for you to step onto it. Obeying, you moved out of the pit, allowing him to layer a second towel around you before tossing the last one to Satoru.

“You can shower first,” he said to you.

You grabbed at the towel, pressing it into your hips and thighs to absorb the water that remained in your soaked bottoms. “Are you sure I can go first?”

He nodded. “You can take a bath, too, if you want.”

“Just a shower is fine, I think. I don’t want to take too long, since you two need to shower, too.”

Satoru sidled up to you, his smug ass grin coming into view as he hovered his chin over your shoulder. “Or, I could shower with you.”

Frankly, you were too drained to let that statement fluster you.

Suguru placed the tip of his index between Satoru’s brows and pushed his head away. “Leave her be, creep. Dry your legs, dude, you’re getting water everywhere.”

“You’re no fun,” the towhead pouted, but retreated anyway.

“Come on,” Geto settled his hand on your nape, guiding you inside. “Don’t be shy, the walls don’t bite.”

You snorted. “New fear unlocked.”

He snickered, shaking his head in amusement. “Relax, I won’t let any walls bite you.”

He took you around the bend, past the stairs, which opened up directly to the living room. While following a more traditional structural style, the interior was comfortably modern. A plush, gray couch was pushed against the wall, with side tables on either end. You immediately noticed that the place was littered with a bunch of plants. Some hung from the ceiling, a few were situated on floating shelves, and a potted shrub was situated near the flatscreen opposite to the couch.

You gawked around shamelessly with parted lips, intrigued by the domesticity of his home. “Your place is so nice, Suguru.”

He chuffed beside you. “Don't go making fun of me while you're my guest, now, angel.”

“I'm not!” You gasped, affronted. “I swear! I like it. Lots of plants.”

“My mom’s an avid plant parent,” he explained.

You hummed in appreciation. “It’s homely.”

He exhaled through his nose and pressed his thumb and first finger into your trapezius. “Thank you. Go shower; second door to your left down the hall. I'll lay out some clean clothes for you in a little bit.”

He pointed towards an open sliding door on the other side of the shrub, bumping you forward. You needed no further prompting, trotting off in the direction he showed.

Thankfully, you didn’t get lost on the way, his instructions easy to follow. Finding the bathroom, you went into it and closed the door. Your fingers hesitated over the lock on the knob, debating. He said he’d bring clothing, but didn’t mention where he’d put it…

You chose to leave it unlocked and hurriedly got to work shedding your drenched clothes. Placing the towel down on the sink counter, you unabashedly peeped the details of the bathroom while you dropped the pieces of your outfit onto the towel.

Just like the rest of his place, the bathroom was well taken care of, also adorned with a few plants, albeit smaller and out of the way. He wasn’t kidding when he said his mom liked plants.

The ceiling light gave off an inviting glow, subconsciously helping you relax. Naked, you fiddled around with the shower knobs until you got hot water to blast out. You squeaked in surprise, adjusted the temp to be your desired level, and hopped right in.

It felt like years of stress were dissolving right off you. His shower might not have been high-techy and super modern like the one you used back at Satoru’s, but the familiarity in its style brought you a kind of comfort you didn’t know you were missing. You melted into the rising steam, sighing deeply and simply doing nothing for a minute to unwind.

It was a good day, the chaos with Granny, Shoko, and Utahime included. You’d have to reassure those two later that Satoru and Suguru were just teasing. Well, Utahime. For Shoko, you’d probably have to convince her, and you didn’t have faith you’d succeed.

You glanced around, spotting a bottle of body wash that looked like it belonged to Suguru on an inset tile shelf. You grabbed it, hoping he wouldn’t mind you using it.

Reading over the label, you admired his choice in soap: lavender and green tea, both for scent and the benefits they provided.

You couldn’t help the giddy little burst of vim you got knowing you were about to smell like him, too.

You squeezed some onto your palm and lathered it between your hands, then started rubbing it onto your body. The day’s strain, dirt, grime, and weariness lifted with it, washing off in thin and slow waves of white streaks down your figure. You felt lighter and lighter with each pass over your chest, waist, hips, and thighs.

Tension thawed from your shoulders as you scrubbed your hands along them, muscles loosening with each bit of cleanliness you gained. It felt nice. Really nice, a calm time away to yourself to let go.

His shampoo also smelled like green tea, and you were occupied with massaging it into your hair when there was a knock on the door.

“Yeah?” You called out.

The door cracked open. “Just me,” Suguru responded. “Brought some clothes for you. I’ll leave them on the counter.”

“Oh, thank you!” What’d you do to deserve a friend like him?

There were some rustling noises as he spoke. “It’s no problem, I’m not gonna leave you hanging without something to change into. Do you mind if I take your clothes to toss in the wash?”

“That’s fine,” you permitted. “I’ll be out soon.”

“Don’t worry about it, take your time,” he said, and then the door was closed once more.

Even if he told you to, you still didn’t want to hog the shower to yourself, knowing that Satoru got just as river-bathed as you did, and he was wearing pants to boot.

You rinsed off the shampoo and followed it up with the matching conditioner, using your fingers to delicately comb out any tangles. Though they weren’t your own products, they felt amazing, making your tresses silky smooth. You would have to ask him where he got his products.

You were out as soon as you were done washing your hair. You cocooned yourself in the clean, fluffy towel he also provided, loving the texture. It was soft yet absorbent, coaxing away any droplets that clung to your curves and planes.

You wanted to steal it.

But, reluctant as you might have been, you refrained. You used it to dry your hair some, and folded it to set aside after you were sufficiently devoid of liquid. Checking the clothes Suguru provided you, you noted he gave you a pair of sweats with a drawstring, allowing you to adjust the waistline as needed. Ever the observant mother hen, you were grateful for his foresight.

You slipped on the t-shirt first, pleased by the material as it came to rest against your freshly washed skin. It was noticeably oversized, but in a sleepy-Sunday sort of way, big enough to be cute and snuggly.

The sweats were huge on you by comparison, what with his absurdly long limbs. You tugged the drawstring to your preferred tightness, then rolled up the legs until they were out of the way and you wouldn’t trip over them.

All dressed, you opened the door with your used towel in hand and walked out to find Suguru waiting for you, leaning against the wall beside the room. He smiled warmly at you and pushed himself off his support, holding out his hand to take the towel from you.

A quick sweep over your form showed he was appraising your outfit with an approving eye, pride undisguised. “That shirt looks good on you.”

You were probably imagining the hint of possessiveness in his tone.

“Ehehe,” you giggled fiendishly, channeling your inner menace as you lightly tugged at the fabric of the top. “Mine, now.”

His expression softened into a smile that had little cupid wings fluttering on your back, a smile you only ever saw him give you. “All yours, angel. You can go sit down in the living room, I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” you nodded and followed his instructions, making your way back to the flora-infested room.

Settling down on the couch, you exhaled and closed your eyes. You heard the shower start up again before it became muffled by the door, presumably because of Satoru. You weren’t left waiting long, the five or so minutes you were alone flying by. The padding of feet signaled you to Suguru’s return, your eyes prying open halfway to peer languidly at him.

“Here,” he jutted his chin towards you. “Sit on the floor, I’ll do your hair.”

Finding no reason to object, you stood and let him take your place on the cushion before plopping yourself down between his legs. He tilted your head forward, then got to work. His touch was ever so gentle, fingers diligent in their movements as he treated your hair with a knowingness you didn’t expect him to have.

Amicable silence filled the space around you, just the shifting of clothes and the slick sound of leave-in as he spread it evenly through your tresses. It gave your mind the freedom to drift away undisturbed.

As he was carefully drying and styling your hair, you thought about how Suguru often reminded you of a cat, considering his tendency to groom you. Or a bird, like a crow or a raven, that liked to preen you.

If you were all some sort of animal hybrids, you could easily imagine him being either some sort of corvid, a vulpine, or a big cat. A black leopard, to be specific.

If Satoru was a big cat, he would be a snow leopard. You refused to take any other suggestions. The tall freak was touchy, cuddly, and so proficient in hiding himself within an environment that did not suit him that he could be breathing down your neck and you'd be none the wiser.

The more you thought about it, the more you could picture them as their respective animals. Satoru would undoubtedly sunbathe with his belly up, paws curled, tail flicking side to side happily, unafraid of showing his biggest weakness.

You compared and contrasted between your options for him. He did like to give you small, shiny things, and you'd never refuse because oooh, shiny! His hair reminded you of crow feathers when it caught the light from the sun. It bore a faint iridescence, a chrome that shifted between emerald and the time just between midnight and dawn, in the earliest hours of the morning where stars still sparkled brilliantly. You could picture him preening his feathers, plucking out the pins and fluffing the downy fuzz.

Though black leopard might have suited him better. He tended to rub his cheek against yours or the top of your head whenever you embraced. You could easily picture him loafing under the shade, licking his paw to smooth out his fur and ensure it matched the rest of his satiny complexion. He had the personality of a laid back, lazy feline that could turn from a sweet teeny baby kitten into a merciless predator in the blink of an eye.

You'd seen the way he behaved when he wanted something – the narrowing of his eyes, the set of his jaw, the concentration in his brow.

It made a tremor flit up your body, especially when he set his sights on you like that. He was capable of being a silent stalker, an expert in scaring the ever living shit out of you any chance he got, just like Satoru.

That soursop boy was surely the type to roll over and let others do things for him. Feed him, rub his belly, comb through his fur. You hadn’t seen him when he was prowling, searching for a meal to hunt down, but sometimes you got a flicker of something similar to it in his eyes. Like a passing rumination, where he considered if it was worth exhausting energy to chase down his prey.

…Could the reason you’d had yet to witness his hunt be because of his ability to camouflage? Because he didn’t want you to see?

The concept gave you chills.

You suppressed your reaction at the introspection, remembering that Suguru was behind you, gently drying your hair with tepid air and tender touches. You didn't want to embarrass yourself by giving him the impression that he was pleasuring you.

Which he undeniably was, but he didn't need to know about the prickles and tingles traveling all the way from your crown to your tailbone.

You continued your train of thought.

Satoru the Snow Leopard would spend his days grooming you endlessly, licking at your fur until it stuck out in all kinds of wild angles. After that, Suguru would mend the spiky hairs until you were glossy and sleek like him.

What did that make you in comparison to them?

Standing side by side with them, it was clear you were prey – unless you were a black-footed cat. But given your dynamic and how the two of them liked to coddle you, you doubted you'd resemble any kind of predator.

If you had to be prey, then what? A doe, or gazelle?

No, those were unfortunately too majestic, and you weren't nearly as graceful as those lovely creatures. Your habit of tripping over your own feet proved case enough.

Okay, so if you weren't either of those…you supposed you could still fit into the cervidae family. Pudu deer was a possibility.

You tried to imagine it, but sadly, you couldn't put yourself into deer hooves.

Were birds prey? Some of them had to be, like doves, right?

If you were a bird, then Suguru had to be, too. You only trusted him to primp and help you maintain your feathers. Satoru would just chomp on them.

Alright, so no-go on the birds, then. Field mouse?

No, too small. You were short, but not that short. They’d also likely accidentally swallow you whole if they tried to mend a stray whisker.

Fennec fox?

You contemplated it, then mentally shook your head. You weren't high-pitched and energetic enough to qualify for that. Satoru would beg to differ, and you’d let him, because it’d be funny. Also, they were predators, anyway.

A brief memory flashed in your mind of something Satoru said, back when you first met Suguru.

‘I don't know,’ he hummed in deliberation. ‘I prefer bunny. Or mochi.’

Bunny.

Bunny…

A rabbit with floppy ears and an upturned tail. Fuzzy and velvety, obviously small and squishy, as much as you grimaced at those choice words of his.

Flumped right between either of their front paws, or stuffed in the middle of their bodies when they curled up to nap. Or chilling on one of their backs, your little paws on their head to watch the world from an angle you could never see on your own.

Bunny fit perfectly, a glove with no rips in the stitch.

You three together would consist of a snow leopard, a black leopard, and a small rabbit that they decided to keep as a pet and not dinner. For whatever reason that could be. Fish are friends, not food.

You had no idea why you chose to start daydreaming about being animorphs. Imagining being squished by their hulking forms in the afternoon rays, or being wrapped up in their fluffy tails for warmth on autumn nights. They were fun images to entertain.

“You seem to be quite deep in thought,” Suguru's breath brushed against the shell of your ear, spooking you. You hadn't even noticed he was finished. “Care to let me in?”

“Eep!” You squeaked, rotating partially to give him the stink eye for doing the thing he and Satoru always did. No way were you going to let him in on your weird brain doing weird brain things. “It's nothing important, just fantasizing a bit. Zoned out.”

Ohp.

And there was that hungry gleam in his eye, the shimmer in his black tea hues. You hit the nail on the head with the black leopard comparison.

“Fantasizing about what?” He purred. Cat. “About me?”

Your lashes fluttered and you whipped your head back in the other direction, tucking your newly dry and enviously soft hair behind your ears. “N-No?”

Man.

You were such a bad liar.

He, merciful god that he is, elected to only tease you and not try to dive into the unreasonably bizarre pool of thoughts that swirled and whirled in your consciousness like the godsforsaken mess you were.

Nor ask about why most of them revolved around those two boys. Bless him, your hero. Satoru would have tormented you until you gave in out of desperation, just to make him shut up. Then, he'd tease you about those ideas for the rest of your days. Probably double down on the bunny related nicknames, poke right above your tailbone and make jokes about how he should make you wear a pair of bunny ears and a tail. And then make the tail option extremely not family friendly.

Heaven’s mercy spare you if you give him any more ideas beyond that. Like a skimpy outfit that barely covered your tits and had a crotch narrow enough to give you a wedgie-induced friction burn where friction burns did not belong and would not wish on your worst enemy.

Well, no, maybe you would, but that's besides the point.

You chuffed out your nose and let your head fall back against the cushion between Geto's legs. His fingers found their way back to your scalp, massaging and lightly scratching at it until you were pushing into his hands like a needy kitten.

“Comfortable?” He asked with an amused lilt in his voice, to which you chirped merrily in answer.

You really were. Limbs like jelly, squeaky clean, tired out after playing in the river with them. You felt good, truly and genuinely good.

Aversion to permanent routine or not, you’d welcome every day with open arms if they were like this. Peaceful contentment after a long stretch of sunlit hours, able to let loose and uncoil any strain in your body, it all sounded so…

Happy.

You were okay with being happy like this.

You were okay with forgetting your past and what drove you here in the first place. You didn’t mind having your eyes shift shut, lashes sweeping over the highs of your cheekbones. You were alright with one of your best friends playing idly with your hair, and you were fine with listening to him hum some melody to himself as he did so.

It was okay.

This was okay.

You were okay.

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taglist: @kimi01985

#Tether Me #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #satosugu x reader #jjk x reader #chimera writes

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canonically-asexual · 1 month

Text

Now that the dust has settled on Suffering Game, I'm gonna need everyone to take a deep breath and listen up for a second.

The final book in the series is next. We probably have over a year to wait for it. That gives everybody plenty of time to adjust your expectations.

The last book is going to encompass two arcs. They can't fit in every single thing. And they shouldn't. Condensing a story that took 81 hours to tell down to seven palatable books, you're going to lose a lot. You have to. It's the nature of the medium.

There are going to be whole Stolen Century cycles that are skipped over. There will be characters that will be cut completely. There are going to be Story and Song battles that took a long time in the show shrunk down to a page or two in the book. There are going to be additions that will stray from the podcast's canon. And there will definitely be omissions that will disappoint some people.

I could go on and on about how the publishing industry works and how the boys don't have carte blanche to make the book as long as want to, but I feel like that's all been said before. Just try to remember that the books were never meant to be a shot-for-shot remake of the podcast. They are their own thing, and we're so lucky that we get to have both.

So adjust your expectations. Have a realistic idea of what the final volume can be and go into it grateful that this story exists and we get to experience it in two forms. You'll enjoy it so much more if you do.

#the adventure zone #taz balance #taz suffering game #taz gn #taz graphic novel #the adventure zone graphic novel #the adventure zone balance

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semischarmed · 8 months

Text

Danny

Always have to keep you guys guessing ;) so this one is veeeeery different from my normal content, but I figured I’d put something tamer to balance out the upcoming Pt. 2 to that Thread story. It’s a bit long, but I didn’t feel like keeping two concurrent multi-parters. Let me know what you think!

=============

“So, it’s the necklace?” I asked the professor at the university. It was a wonder I was able to keep up with even half of the lecture that had just transpired.

“Something like that.” The professor replied back to our small group. “We’re all just a sea of electrical impulses. With this computer model, we can accurately track and mimic the exact electrical shocks needed to replicate a mind. Of course, the mind is so much data, the transfer-the upload needs to be instantaneous with an equivalent download- the university doesn’t give us enough grant money for computers that can store that much data, much less secure it. So, we needed biological means of storage. That’s why there’s an even number of participants”.

The room was utterly confused. For one, there was definitely an odd number of participants. Dr. Cohn was never known for dumbing down complex concepts, but even the smartest kids in class seemed stumped the past few hours. Maybe he didn’t have to go in that level of depth for his experiment.

Our group was a mix. It seemed like a sampling of the very best of the class, and a few average performers. I did find it weird they offered extra credit to students that probably didn’t need it. Sticking out like a sore thumb was Chad. He was the school quarterback, though no one was sure for much longer, as he was on academic probation. I couldn’t help but speculate with Kat, a top performer, on his placement. Combining our limited knowledge on the students in our class, and the school’s football team, we landed on this being some sort of extra credit that the university probably forced on poor Dr. Cohn. Ever the nosy one, Mackenzie piped in. “Of course they’d try to save their star quarterback. I heard 3 professors already quit trying to bring up his GPA. This is basically his last shot“.

And then there was Danny. Part of that “very best” group. Unlike the other students in the room, he seemed to take in the professor’s whole lecture and was deep in thought. His face lay still, serene. But I could see the intelligence behind his eyes spinning to life. I always liked when he did that, like he was chewing on an idea before spitting out the most brilliant insights. Or maybe I just like how the corner of his mouth would turn up into a small smile when he finished thinking things through. I caught myself staring again, thanking my luck that no one had seen. Mackenzie laughed a little behind me. I sighed, laughing a small defeat. Almost no one had seen.

“So it basically swaps our brains?” Danny inquired. He looked around the room, gauging our comprehension. That was when it clicked for me. He took note and let out a small smile. I smiled back. That was the other thing I liked about the guy. He always seemed to want everyone to succeed. This wasn’t the first time he’d thoroughly condense a difficult topic into a quick word or phrase the class could understand. His eyes smiled whenever he could recognize concepts “clicking” for people and I saw it do the same as my other classmates- even Chad- figured it out. I recoiled a little, from a nudge from Mackenzie. I sighed again, airing a “thank you” her way. I had been staring again.

“No, nothing like that! Could you imagine how difficult an operation like that would be? All this does is swap your mind.” Aaaand just like that, we were back to confusion. Danny smiled though.

“Got it. So your brain’s the hardware, your mind’s the software. The necklaces do a switcheroo and then new hardware, same software- or, vice versa, I suppose.” Back on track.

“Wait, how much of ‘me’ is in the hardware? Like my memories?” I blurted out, immediately growing red. That seemed to have garnered an approving smile from Danny. I grew redder.

The professor’s eyes lit up. “Now you’re thinking like a scientist.” He laughed before shrugging. “Who’s to say… we are running an experiment after all”. Dr. Cohn always was a messy one.

“So, uh, how long is it supposed to last?” Mackenzie asked.

“That’s the fun of it, once we’re paired, the switch can go for as little or as long you as want!” We. That threw me off a little. I caught his glance to Chad. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a part of this experiment too.” The professor said, with a smile that felt too wide. “Don’t forget to record your notes and thoughts into this log book. For privacy, they’ve been password protected- we’ll reconvene this little group in a year and just draft up a summary of your experiences from these books.”

There was an obvious question everyone’s mind. Thankfully, Kevin asked it. “So who’s swapping with who?”

The professor’s eyes lit up in excitement. “We’ve all been paired, randomized of course. I’ll leave the pairings to figure out when they’d want to swap. Just put on your necklaces at 6pm tonight and start your log books. After that, whenever either of you squeezes your necklace, the swap will ensue”. From the way the professor’s eyes kept darting to Chad, something told me it hadn’t been entirely random.

I thought through the possible pairings. Kevin was kind of cute, I guess. Though I wasn’t sure if it was just the airport effect with how limited our group size was. Kat or Mackenzie would just be weird. Mackenzie especially- that girl knows a little too much about me and lord knows what she’d do behind my wheel. Running down the list of people, there was Chad. Of course, who wouldn’t want to be in Chad’s shoes- I had to dispel a dirty thought that passed my mind. Everyone’s probably thinking it. The professor’s body wouldn’t be too bad either, I could always just pressure the faculty into giving me better grades, maybe boost the grades of my friends. And then there was Danny. Danny. My heartrate shot up instantly.

Sitting in my dorm room, I looked at the clock with a bit of fear. “5:55 pm,” it read. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. “5:59 pm”. Nope. There was nothing calm about this. I closed my eyes shut, as I felt the necklace whir a little. Looks like someone else already squeezed it.

Zzzip

=============

“Log book 1:

It was Danny. Holy fuck, I got to be in Danny.”

I stared at the journal entry. That was all I could manage to write with my shaking hands. I could hardly believe it. A lifetime can change in 5 minutes, apparently. My heart was still beating and my face still flushed when we switched back. He had a soccer game so our first meeting had to be short.

My first minute was just looking down at my new Danny-worn hands, breathing through his lungs, inhaling as much as I could of his room. I wanted to commit this man to memory. My logic-or, Danny’s logic perhaps, told me there would inevitably be more swaps to come, but my mind wouldn’t have it. Whatever piece of Danny I could get, however minuscule, I wanted to stretch every moment infinite.

I felt a sense of guilt wash over me, as my new Danny-worn package began to harden when I realized he was in soccer gear. I tried to shake off the feeling- I couldn’t do that to him. Then came the text. I recognized the number of course, it was my old body’s. “Hey man, glad to see we’re partners”. My heart stirred. “It’s Danny, but you probably already knew that”. To see him text me so casually froze me in place. “Anyways, I do have a game coming up, mind if we switch back?” I couldn’t even bring Danny’s hands to answer himself. “I’ll take that as a yes”.

Zzzip

And just like that, I was back. My hand clinging to my chest, breaths ragged.

Wait, Fuck. Was I still hard in his body when we switched back?

=============

Zzzip

“Log book 7:

Met up today. Joint gym day.

Gym feels better in Danny’s body. Unsure if exercise has a different effect on people’s bodies, or if it’s tied to our minds. Seems to be a lag in my emotions.”

I’m not really one to be consistent with exercise. I set the book down, and relocked it, panting as I had in our first switch, but this time due to Danny working my body to the brink.

I think he noticed, because he apologized profusely when I slumped in the bench to catch my breath in the locker room.

I can’t believe I had agreed to it. Danny wanted to test the effects of exercise with different bodies. He stated he wanted to see what it was like doing routine exercises in a different body. Does the body retain that physical memory? Or is it the mind? I only agreed because it was Danny. So, there I was, in the school gym staring at the door like a fish out of water.

I felt a reassuring hand on my back before my ears immediately shot red when I realized whose hand it was. “Do you have your log book on hand? Should probably write down notes immediately after the switchback”. I immediately panicked at thought that he wanted to compare notes, thinking back to my first entry but he seemed to have caught on to my thought process and immediately dismissed the idea. “It wouldn’t make sense to taint the data with outside factors. Danny was probably the only person that fully understood the professor’s entire experiment so I took his word for it.

When we swapped, I had to focus on not instantly growing hard. For someone seemingly so bookish, the guy was surprisingly fit. Walking to the treadmill, I felt every muscle brimming with power. My first run in his body. Euphoric. Danny was a well-oiled machine. Every component moving in tandem. Lungs drawing in and out powerful gusts of air. Eyes staring me in the mirror, furrowed in powerful determination, and legs gliding with a grace that did not diminish the power behind each foot. I lost myself in the exercise, content to just being inside his body, guided by his body. I finished the run with a heavy pant, knowing full well I’d be hard beyond belief at what lay before me. I eyed myself in the mirror, in sweat-laden body of my crush. The scent was indescribable. Like a pleasant musk basking in the damp earth. Was it always this good? Was this how other people felt when they exercised? I twirled the necklace around Danny’s neck, making sure to not squeeze, mentally thanking whatever gods there may be for this experience.

I looked back at Danny, in my body. His running form was a bit clumsy, but there was a confidence in them that I didn’t often see in myself. Maybe a trick of the light, or residual feelings from the run I just had but I was captivated. I honestly looked almost cute like this.

He finished, panting before immediately pulling out his book and writing a few notes. He beamed back at me, pointing at the necklace. Even in my body, that smile was unmistakably his. I smiled back, ready to swap once more.

Zzzip

Weird. I still felt the infatuation. I looked back at the body I had just inhabited, still feeling the butterflies in my stomach. It was Danny so I was used to those, but not immediately after a swap. The past few times it always took a second or two to readjust. Danny looked at me, a bit uncomfortable. No doubt it had been from the grave face I was making. I shook my head, not wanting to worry him. Or worse, force a premature end to this experience. “It’s nothing, just a hell of an exercise haha”.

This may be a bit of a problem.

=============

“Interesting, and you’re sure it’s residual feeling?” Said a slightly disinterested Chad, eyeing his dreamy biceps.

“Yes, when I.. uh.. felt angry in his body and switched back, my body did too.”

“Well it is a swap, of course so your mind returning to its body would feel the same things it felt…” The professor in chad’s body spoke in a slightly faraway tone, like there was something he’d rather be doing. “Though, it shouldn’t be this instant. It’s not physically possible unless…”

I winced, worried for the worst and hoping to remain Danny’s partner.

“This might be a bit of an issue if those necklaces are defective…” He then mumbled something about permanent effects on the mind. “If they are, we’d have to stop the entire experiment. It wouldn’t be right-“ The professor caught a glimpse of Chad’s body in the reflection of his door before looking back at me. “Look, maybe just limit the swaps to low pressure situations, and try to avoid high-emotion situations in case your ‘residual’ hypothesis is correct. Cause if that were true, it would mean you leave a little of yourself every time you swap.”

“Got it, professor”.

“Maybe keep this side effect a little secret for now. We wouldn’t want the others worrying and tainting the data,” Chad’s body spoke in an authoritative tone as his hands sauntered below the desk. “Oh, and please close the door on your way out“.

=============

“Log book 50:

Pain.”

We had been swapping fairly frequently, despite the professor’s warning. Danny was a drug I couldn’t shake. The guy was my kryptonite and he had no idea. Everytime we swapped, every moment we shared, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the professor’s words. Every swap back, I could feel my heart beating as wildly as my first time, stomach churning pleasantly. It was like a wave of sweetness whenever I had a chance to be Danny. Then, the guilt came soon after.

Danny seemed to like the spontaneity. Eventually, we settled on free-switching, aside from classes. Some days, I’d randomly switch and my eyes would focus on my homework, completed with a little smiley face drawn on the corner. I tried that little trick with him once, only to get a text back of his graded assignment, scored uncharacteristically low for the top performer, followed by another text “Nice try anyway lol”

=============

“Log book 190:

I hate you.”

Zzzip

“Danny, is something wrong?” The shock of the situation stopped me from initially processing anything I was seeing. My clumsy hands. I had been fumbling with my collar, when I accidentally initiated a swap. A wave of embarrassment hit, and then anger. Seething, bottomless anger.

I almost dropped the flowers Danny’s body had been handing her. Without explanation, I quickly squeezed the necklace to send me back.

Zzzip

I sat in stunned silence for a second, before the anger drew me back to my thoughts.

Who was I angry at? Of course it was a girl. He had to have been dating around. It was presumptuous to even think we were anything more than partners in a crazed professor’s experiment. And yet, I was still angry. Irrationally angry at Danny for not picking up on the hints, maybe angry at the professor for dragging me into this mess in the first place. But most of all, I was angry at myself.

I felt the buzz of a text, ears still heated. Danny again. “You ok?”

I sighed as reasoning took over and anger transformed into sadness. I wrote a quick note in the log book, then pulled my phone up before texting back. “Yeah”.

“Lol Claudia says hi”, came a text back. I gritted my teeth, not wanting to impart any jealousy in my response, but I was soon stopped by another text.

“If you wanted to meet my sister, you should have just asked lol”.

=============

“Log book 290

I’m stupid. I’m sorry. I’m stupid. I’m sorry.”

I’m so sorry. I said to Danny in my head, as I slumped in my chair. You’re so fucking stupid. I told myself. These past few months swapping back and forth with Danny had been a dream.

From something as simple swapping before brushing his teeth to even taking a class as him. I savored every single moment.

But as the experiment had been drawing to a close, and as I felt my time nearing and my guilt intensifying, other, less kind thoughts bubbled in my head.

What if I did ‘that’ in his body. What if I did it while thinking of my own body. I gulped. Danny didn’t know, and from what I could tell, he hadn’t suspected a thing. “Maybe I could make him like me.” Even just saying it out loud felt like a taboo. I could just imagine Danny’s disapproving face as I pondered corrupting our newfound friendship, and corrupting him at his core.

The devil on my shoulder continued. We’ve been swapping all this time. And he doesn’t notice. My dick stirred. He wouldn’t notice and you could train his body to fall in love with you.

No. No. I couldn’t do that to Danny. I eyed the near approaching date on the calendar- the date the experiment would end- and I gulped again. I pulled up a photo of him.

Darkness gripped at my chest, as I pondered my next step. And then I squeezed.

“Danny, I love you and I’m sorry.”

Zzzip

My heart, or rather Danny’s, began to beat faster and faster. I pulled up a fairly difficult puzzle before I swapped, so I knew I had some time with his flesh before he’d try to swap back.

I gingerly pulled down his shorts, staring at his bulge hungrily. Then I slowly teased out his dick, moaning at the feeling of flesh touching flesh. Being in his body, having this level of access to Danny. I was hard instantly.

It felt almost macabre, seeing his flesh move to my every whim, forced to feel my feelings. I wanted to etch myself into him as much as possible, and with every pump I moaned my original body’s name. It took all of the restraint in Danny’s body, which, apparently was a lot, to not burst. But one can only hold out so long, hearing one’s crush moan their name in delirious ecstasy. I sang my name in his resonant voice one more time, before flashing instantly to my body and back to his.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released his sticky white seed in what felt like the first cum of my life. I suppose, in a sense, it was. I hoped that sealed it. Conditioning Danny to me. The swaps were imperceptibly fast, and I took the lack of delay in emotions as a sign of success.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released a breath in Danny’s body I didn’t know I was holding, basking in the afterglow before immediately realizing what I had just done.

Guilt came out of me drop by drop. As his tears began to leave their marks on his shirt, I slowly began to clean up. The pleasure of the situation still clung to me, as I mournfully switched back. Then came another gut-wrenching wave of sadness. Danny, I’m so sorry.

I looked to the incomplete puzzle in front of me, laughing a little at his lack of progress to ease the sadness.

Then came another text from Danny. “Dude, that puzzle’s impossible”.

=============

“Log book 300:

Food definitely tastes different in a different body.”

“Look, just try them man” Danny said with a smile, holding a fry in his hand. And the necklace in another.

Only a few short days left before the experiment’s end. I made no mention of that night, nor the professor’s words to Danny.

Danny had, in fact, been coming by more often. Prompting more hangouts, initiating more switches. I was elated every time he asked. I even caught a few longer glances from his body, marinating in pleasure at seeing this new side of Danny. However happy I had been, underlying it all was the guilt of my deed.

Danny again held the fry out expectantly. I laughed slightly. “Haha, fine”.

Zzzip

I took a bite from his body. Yep, it was definitely a fry. My own body looked up at me, smiling a Danny-flavored smile before grabbing the half-bitten fry. “Now let’s control for this variable. Same fry,” he said, wiggling it in the air.

Zzzip

I stared at the fry covered in a bit of his saliva. Heaven. I looked back at him and nodded. As we parted ways, I couldn’t help my smile from peeking through.

He was right, it did taste better on my end.

=============

“So, we’re not getting paid”? I asked Danny, as we sat in the table. He had a few wine glasses in front.

It had been a full year since the experiment first started. Despite the general weirdness from the other groups swapping, everyone had been relatively well adjusted. Except for Chad, or whatever he’d be called now. A swapped Kat couldn’t help but spill the beans. Apparently, the professor had no obligation to offer the guy extra credit. He specifically targeted the quarterback for his experiment. What’s worse, he’d apparently created a newer version of the necklace. One that could overwrite and transmit. Chad’s frat brothers mentioned he was offered another credit for participating in a second experiment for this new necklace. After that, no one had seen either person. The pair had mysteriously disappeared, leaving the school scrambling to cover up everything. All most of us knew was one day we suddenly had perfect grades retroactively added for the past year, along with a very scary letter prompting a signature.

“The university isn’t going to do anything about this.” He said. I was still skeptical as I slowly eyed one of the wine bottles that once graced former Dr. Cohn’s shelf. “It’s the least they could do for all those, ethics violations”. He pulled the cork with a satisfying pop, a mischievous gleam in his eye as he handed me a glass. “Now c’mon, try this”.

I suppose alcohol had a way of loosening me up. “So…. we’re not getting paid”? I asked again, sarcastically this time. It had been a year, so talking to Danny felt easy. I thought back to my log book, fully intending on burning the thing. Danny shook his head.

“Hard to put a price on crimes against humanity. Or, something like that” he laughed. “The university just said to dump everything and basically forget that experiment ever happened.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as well. I shrugged, knowing money or even perfect grades for a year held no candle to the experience of a lifetime I just had with Danny. I was afraid of the answer, but it had to be asked. “What should we do with these things?” I asked, looking at the necklace still gracing his beautiful neck. His eyebrows raised as he saw the same necklace gracing mine.

“I mean, by now, you’re pretty used to it, right?” He asked with an almost pleading look in his eye. There was something bugging him. I watched as he fiddled with his feet. “Maybe…” His ears turned bright red. It was riveting finally seeing this side oh him. More than that, it was downright cute. “M-Maybe” he stammered again. Danny took a deep breath to calm himself, though his scarlet face told all. “Maybe we can keep. Um. Swapping. Sometimes, sometimes I like being you, and sometimes I kind of like when you’re me.” He looked at me and smiled weakly, trying to change the subject. “A-Anyway, you need a place to stay next year, r-right? It kind of feels like we’ve already been roommates these past 12 months, what’s another 12?” His sweet words did nothing the dampen the guilt I felt in my betrayal. In any other circumstance, I’d have died happy just hearing that confession from him. Instead I could only think back to the professors words. I did live, at least partially, in Danny throughout this past year. It felt like a betrayal of myself to not come clean.

“Danny, listen. I think I need to tell you first, in your body…” My breath hastened, and I felt my stomach churn. How do you tell a guy what you’ve done with his body- *in* his body? Danny’s face frowned in concern as my bubbling emotions seemed to knock him out of his quick spell of shyness.

He smiled a little. “Look man, whatever you’ve done in my body, I’ve probably done too.” His smile widened. “Your body is mine, my body is yours. Call it even”. More words that would have swept me off my feet, had I not been confessing. More torture ensued.

“I went to the professor about it a few months ago and never told you” I continued. I was practically holding back tears. “Our necklaces were bugged, I think”.

“The professor said…” I gulped. “It was possible that when we switch, our minds don’t come through all at once.” Now tears did begin to swell. “You know how it’s supposed to take a second for your emotions to catch up. Well, when we switch, I still feel the same emotions…”. I gulped. “Since day 1, I think I’ve overwritten your, um, preferences”. Danny’s poker face felt like a dagger in my heart. It’s a face I often made in his body when I was in deep thought, so I knew he had to have been processing to the same conclusion. I could practically see the gear turning in his head. Click.

Face still an enigma, Danny waited a moment and then asked a simple question. “When did you tell the professor?” Click.

I sniffled as I laid it bare in front of him. “5 months ago. Danny, I’m sorry! I dunno, I just thought maybe… maybe if we kept switching, if our minds kept being in each other’s bodies. Maybe if a little piece of how I felt kept lagging behind, you might have-“ Now the gear was fully spinning and I saw the realization hit his face. I had no idea what he was going to do. Punch me? Maybe. Run away in disgust? Likely. Instead, Daniel had done something equally surprising. His hand rested on my shoulder in a reassuring fashion. Then that same hand motioned me forward.

My memory of the next moment felt like a million moments in one. It was something so outside my realm of possibilities, my brain simply couldn’t process. The whiplash hit my senses all at once. Sweet but a bit salty. A moment of quietness before the background sounds of the campus slowly drizzled back in. The scent of fresh laundry and damp earth. My eyes took even longer to adjust from black to red to an image slowly refocussing. Last was my brain, which had been stunned into silence. I sat back in shock, repeating the same phrase over and over in my head. Danny just kissed me.

He laughed, eyes twinkling and mouth pulled into a smile, beaming in the way that always made my heart swoon. “That theory’s bogus. Trust me. I haven’t felt any different”. He smiled again, sheepishly this time, before fishing something from his backpack’s large pocket. He looked at the item in front of him, hand slightly shaking in hesitation before making his decision. Slowly, he held up his own log book, flipped to the very first page:

“Log Book 1:

<3 ”

=============

#Male body swap #body swap

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literary-illuminati · 4 months

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2024 Book Review #27 – From the Ruins of Empire: The Revolt Against the West and the Remaking of Asia by Pankaj Mishra

Yet another work of nonfiction I picked up because an intriguing-sounding quote from it went viral on tumblr. This was the fifth history book I’ve read this year, but the first that tries very consciously to be an intellectual history. Both an interesting and a frustrating read – my overall opinion went back and forth a few times both as I read and as I put together this review.

The book is ostensibly a history of Asia’s intellectual response to European empire’s sudden military and economic superiority and political imperialism in the 19th and 20th centuries, though it’s focus and sympathy is overwhelmingly with what it calls ‘middle ground’ responses (i.e. neither reactionary traditionalism nor unthinking westernization). It structures this as basically a series of biographies of notable intellectual figures from the Islamic World, China and India from throughout the mid-late 19th and early 20th centuries - Liang Qichao and Jamal al-Din al-Afghani get star bidding and by far the most focus, with Rabindranath Tagore a distant third and a whole scattering of more famous personages further below him.

The central thesis of the book is essentially that the initial response of most rich, ancient Asian societies to sudden European dominance (rung in by the Napoleonic occupation of Egypt and the British colonization of India) was denial, followed (once European guns and manufactured goods made this untenable) by a deep sense of inferiority and humiliation. This sense of inferiority often resulted in attempts by ruling elites and intellectuals to abandon their own traditions and westernize wholesale (the Ottoman Tanzimat reforms, the New Culture Movement in China, etc), but at the same time different intellectual currents responded to the crisis by synthesizing their own visions of modernity, and tried to construct a new world with a centre other than the West.

I will be honest, my first and most fundamental issue with this book is that I just wish it was something it wasn’t. Which is to say, it is a resolutely intellectual and idealist history, convinced of the power of ideas and rhetoric as the engine for changing the world. Which means that the biography of one itinerant revolutionary is exhaustively followed so as to trace the evolution of his world-historically important thoughts, but the reason the Tanzimat Reforms failed is just brushed aside as having something to do with europhile bureaucrats building opera houses in Istanbul. Not at all hyperbole to say I’d really rather it was actually the exact opposite – the latter is just a much more interesting subject!

Not that the biographies aren’t interesting! They very much are, and do an excellent job of getting across just how interconnected the non-Western (well, largely Islamic and to a lesser extent Sino-Pacific) world was in the early/mid-19th century, and even moreso how late 19th/early 20th century globalization was not at all solely a western affair. They’re also just fascinating in their own right, the personalities are larger than life and the archetype of the globe-trotting polyglot intelligentsia is one I’ve always found very compelling. While I complain about the lack of detail, the book does at least acknowledge the social and economic disruptions that even purely economic colonialism created, and the impoverishment that created the social base the book’s subjects would eventually try to arouse and organize. And, even if I wish they were all dug into in far more detail, the book’s narrative is absolutely full of fascinating anecdotes and episodes I want to read about in more detail now.

Which is a problem with the book that it’s probably fairer to hold against it – it’s ostensible subject matter could fill libraries, and so to fit what it wants to into a readable 400-page volume, it condenses, focuses, filters and simplifies to the point of myopia. Which, granted, is the stereotypical historian’s complaint about absolutely anything that generalizes beyond the level of an individual village or commune, but still.

This isn’t at all helped but the overriding sense that this was a book that started with the conclusion and then went back looking for evidence to support its thesis and create a narrative. Which is a shame, because the section on the post-war and post-decolonization world is by far the sloppiest and least convincing, in large part because you can feel the friction of the author trying to make their thesis fit around the obvious objections to it.

Which is to say, the book draws a line on the evolution of Asian thought through trying to westernize/industrialize/nationalize and compete with the west on it’s own terms (in the book’s view) a more authentic and healthy view that rejects the western ideals of materialism and nationalism into something more spiritual, humane, and cosmopolitan, with Gandhi kind of the exemplar of this kind of view. It tries to portray this anti-materialistic worldview as the ideology of the future, the natural belief system of Asia which Europe and America can hope to learn from. It then, ah, lets say struggles to to find practical evidence of this in modern politics or economics, lets say (the Islamic Republic of Iran and Edrogan’s Turkey being the closest). It is also very insistent that ‘westernization’ is a false god that can never work, which is an entirely reasonable viewpoint to defend but if you are then you really gotta remember that Japan/South Korea/Taiwan like, exist while going through all the more obvious failures. One is rather left feeling that Mishra is trying to speak an intellectual hegemony into existence, here. (The constant equivocation and discomfort when bringing up socialism – the materialistic western export par excellence, but also perhaps somewhat important in 20th century Asian intellectual life – also just got aggravating).

It’s somewhere between interesting and bleakly amusing that modernity and liberal democracy have apparently been discredited and ideologically exhausted for more than one hundred years now! Truly we are ruled by the ideals of the dead.

I could honestly complain about the last chapter at length – the characterization of Islam as somehow more deeply woven in and inextricable from Muslim societies than any other religion and the resultant implicit characterization of secular government as necessarily western intellectual colonialism is a big one – but it really is only a small portion of the book, so I’ll restrain myself. Though the casual mention of the failures of secular and socialist post-colonial nation-building projects always just reminds me of reading The Jakarta Method and makes me sad.

So yeah! I felt significantly more positively about the book before I sat down and actually organized my thoughts about it. Not really sure how to take that.

#book review #history #From the Ruins of Empire #From the Ruins of Empire: The Revolt Against the West and the Remaking of Asia #Pankaj Mishra

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theharrowing · 6 months

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something i have been thinking about a lot lately, as i dwell on writing the perfect collateral finale, is that i wonder if it needs a sequel at all.

i could probably write the entire “sequel” story in 5 or 7 long chapters and not drag us all through several more years of me being indecisive and adding chapters worth of plot that i don’t even have outlined just for the sake of doing something.

i worry that if i force too much juice out of this berry, i’ll have a palm full of dust. i worry i won’t like it anymore.

there will still be a divide between the earlier arcs and this final one, but idk. i just don’t think we need a whole ass separate story.

what are your thoughts? do you want me to flesh out something big and long that takes 3 more years lmao.

i have some thoughts to explain myself better, but even tho i am going to be vague, people may be able to piece together my intentions and it could spoil what’s to come, so only continue on if you don’t mind vague spoilers! and please try to keep responses as vague/spoiler free as possible.

the way my idea for the story is now, some of the main characters won’t be super present, and i fear that their absence will cause a lot of people to lose interest. but if i condense this idea, the favs won’t be away quite as long.

something to think about.

i have been really stressing lately about collateral and i think a big part of it is feeling like the sequel won’t be a heavy-hitting or interesting to the readers who may only want to see mc interact with bts members.

even tho this is a choice i need to make for the sake of my own mental health (not to be dramatic but also, i am dramatic lmao) i am still interested in any thoughts you have, as readers!!!

#1am thoughts #fic: collateral

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rubykgrant · 5 months

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OK, my thoughts about the final season of RVB! If you haven't seen it yet, warning for SPOILERS!

In general, I thought it was alright. The good parts were GOOD, but it felt kind of rushed, and a few things were disappointing. Certain parts I wish had been different, but I'm glad it exists. Watching it with lots of cool people made it fun, and it had a decent enough ending for what it was... though, after so many years, so many characters, just so MUCH of a story, I wish things had been a little MORE. It was a shame it was so short and rushed. I'm still glad the people who worked on it got it done, and we were all able to see it.

So. Actual thoughts on different bits...

I'm somebody who enjoys seasons 15-16-17, so while it will always be real in my heart, if they HAD to do a ret-con, having a spoof with a Retro Convention was VERY funny. Kai would absolutely milk her relation to Grif for some attention. I thought it was weird that Dylan was there, but she was a convention host? I feel like it would have made more sense for her to be one of the people asking questions about where the Reds and Blues went (y'know, like she ACTUALLY DID in 15). Oh well.

Things were very rushed... if this had been a more full season (or, in my perfect world, a story split into 2, so we get 19 and 20 out of it. I'm sorry, it just bugs my brain when something ends on a 9 instead of a 10. that's a ME problem), there could have been more of a Big Reveal about Tucker being the Meta. HOWEVER, since things were very condensed, I can appreciate how amusing it is to have Epsilon info-dump the plot to every body.

I did get a chuckle out of Epsilon being a "recorded prediction program" and not the true AI, and he decided to just be an obnoxious little youtuber. Like, that was so awful, it was AWESOME. It is also something that would have made Alpha Church super ticked off, which is very fitting. Good job Epsilon, 10 out of 10~

I was so happy to see Sheila and Lopez! Mechanical love lives on. It was a bit meh seeing the Reds act like they don't care about Caboose (we've been there, done that), but some of the funny bits that followed and Simmons getting Sarge interested by bribing him with Blue Defeat saved it (listen, these guys have been insisting they hate each other for 2 decades, but they can literally not live without each other. let them just admit they are ALL FRIENDS). Grif ranting was excellent.

No Donut is some major BS! Look, I get it, we stole the spot-light in 16-17, he was the time-god's most specialest pink princess and a harbinger of death, it can be intimidating to include something so powerful after trying to erase all that from existence... but come on. With all the important call-backs and connections 19 made with previous seasons, AND having the ending be in Blood Gulch? DONUT SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE AND HE SHOULD HAVE THROWN THE AI UNIT. No, I mean it, imagine the thing gets knocked really far away, maybe from an explosion, and Donut throws it clear across the canyon, because you KNOW he can! This time instead of it being a grenade that kills Tex, she catches the unit, tra-la-la, it all comes together. I'm sorry, Simmons doing the cool sports-ball throw was fun, but... Donut. DONUT!

Alright, moving on. It felt a little awkward that Wash is yet again hurt, and nobody is there with him? Oh wait, Doc is there, except no he isn't. Listen. Listen. I love plural Wash. I also love the idea of him genuinely having an emotional connection with Doc, because it DOES make sense; when Wash kid-napped him, Doc just kept making all his sarcastic little comments the whole time, and it tricked Wash into having real conversations with him. I honestly think that if Doc hadn't been with them, Wash wouldn't have been so open to the idea of finally settling down after his Villain Moment. They also both have a lot in common with AI incidents, and again, Villain Moments. I'm just annoyed that the Pacifist and the Original Bad Boy evidently died. Off screen. Give me back my purple boys. If we need to have Wash Not Be Around for a while, have him and Carolina go off to track down Hargrove or something. Maybe they went to two different locations, and Wash gets back to the others first, so we still get Carolina to the rescue.

Anyway, the plot! There was a lot of funny bits when it came to looking for Tucker, getting into the ship with the "video call security", and Niner being there! Hooray! I am... a little disappointed about WHY and HOW Tucker is a "villain". Obviously, I can't picture him being legit EVIL, but the idea that he's just the physical puppet being controlled by the AI isn't very... good. I understand how it was explained, sure, but still. I know I keep rambling about my own thoughts for alternate scenarios, but I can't help it! I just don't like when Sigma (or Omega) are just plain EVIL, for no reason. They've always been more complicated than that (the Meta wanted to be HUMAN, remember. and Omega even told Epsilon "I'll be here if you need me". they are definitely different kinds of harsh and intense, but they aren't the Murder AI or the Evil AI). I don't like that Tucker is being tortured into doing what they say... a more subtle manipulation, the Fragments not only convincing Tucker but also themselves that they NEED to do all this to get Alpha back, is very intriguing. After Epsilon Deconstructed, the Fragments lost their Memories. They just know they aren't complete. Tucker just knows he wants to talk to his best friend again.

If it needs another push to make it more insidious, I'd buy that Meta suit being a trap to begin with; Hargrove probably had that thing rigged to make it into a trap for anybody that wore it, so they'd have this subliminal inclination to collect all the AI, and kill anybody in their way. Something-something forgetting what your motives are, and only caring about the GOAL. Tucker and the Fragments ALL need to remember who they are and why they want the Alpha; it isn't about being a weapon. If there was more of a fake-out/reveal of Tucker being the Meta, maybe with a false hint of it being Felix with the orange/black colors, a sign that Tucker is still in there would be him getting close to killing everybody... but he backs off each time.

Speaking of killing... Sarge. Oh, Sarge. I will admit that, just from a thematic point of view, yes- it works to have a Sarge death. I don't care for it being Tucker that did it, or that Donut isn't there to share the moment as well. Matt Hullum acted the HECK out of that scene, though. In fact, the whole bit of Sarge running back to save Caboose, and trapping Tucker with a bubble shield, was AWESOME. I didn't want Sarge to die... but he went out wearing his red armor, and told Grif and Simmons he cared about them. It was sad, but it was well done. In my perfect world, we just THINK he died, but then at the end it is revealed he's still alive! How? Well, Doc gave him CPR! Doc isn't dead either, that is integral you see. I'm not sure of Sarge going "Hurgh Bleh" would have been better or WORSE. Well, heck. I wish he wasn't dead, but as much as I hate it, I... didn't totally hate it?

I kind of wish Simmons had more of a break-down over it. I wanna see him lose his temper. OR, he acts so quiet and cold, it is just UNNERVING. Then Grif helps snap him out of it. Let's be real, those two are so co-dependant, it ain't even funny. I appreciate Simmons telling Grif he is officially free to leave, and the conversation of "Come with me" leading to Simmons saying he wants to see this through, and Grif agreeing to come along was good. Simmons has aspired to be an impressive soldier from the beginning, and Grif has just wanted to be DONE. In the end, they meet in the middle.

I may be a sappy Grimmons person, but I can say, as objectively as possible, they should NOT be separated at the end. Grif and Simmons are literally the introduction to the series. They were the first two characters we see, they have been side by side almost CONSTANTLY, they are always bickering but they are also each other's favorite person. I don't even mean in a shippy way, it is just a fact. To have them say good-bye and just leave each other is honestly out of character (we saw that before, remember, in 15; Grif got so guilty about it, Simmons came to the realization that opposites attract, and they finally had to admit they missed each other. it was a WHOLE THING). I think it would have worked if, after telling Grif he's free to leave at the end, Simmons waits minute, then starts following him-

Grif; What are you doing?

Simmons; Coming with you. What the hell else would I do?

And that is that, wherever they do, they're together. Also, Kai shows up and HUGS HER BRO, come on, please!

Now, as a sappy Grimmons person, they should have just gone through with it. It has been more than 20 years. Seriously. We all know it. People who don't even care about the ship know it. Just commit to the freaking bit. Stop being cowards. Let them hold hands, or hug, or gently bump the visor of their helmets together, SOMETHING. Show them taking a walk on the beach together, all lovey-dovey. We deserve some emotional satisfaction after a 2 decade queer-bait slow-burn. JUST DO IT.

Sigh... OK, that is out of my system.

My absolute FAVORITE thing in 19 was Tex. She was so freaking PERFECT. I love Caboose telling the unit a story, his way of bringing her back, because that was how he talked to Epsilon. It was so sweet. When they asked Caboose why he brought her back instead of Church, he told them- "Because I wanted to win". Listen, Caboose LOVES Church, but he knows what is up. It was hilarious to see her go through the teleporter to get her black armor back. I absolutely ADORED her saying she's NOT a "failure" anymore, because she's not just based on the Director's memories of losing his wife, she's also got the memories of the guys who REMEMBER HER KICKING THEIR ASSES. 100 percent, Tex return was the best. Her reuniting with Church was also very sweet... the only thing I would have liked more would be the other Fragments showing up in there, so they can all be together (and Church gives Theta a hug; he doesn't even need his memories yet, he just knows he loves Theta).

I didn't care much for deleting the Fragments at the end, but I get the "reasoning". Like, sure. Fine. In my perfect world, Caboose gives the unit to Carolina, so someday, when they're all "ready to wake up again", she can see her family. Wash taking the fall to alert Carolina was both kinda wonky, but also very funny, and hey- it got her there! Again, I don't know why she wasn't there with Wash from the beginning. Also, just. A few characters being dead, and most of the others splitting up at the end... nah. They all need to live together and be friends and be happy and be OK! Like, come on. They've had a lot of "endings" in this series that were bitter-sweet, or kind of sad. I know life doesn't always have a happily ever after... but just once, give them that.

OH, and ANOTHER THING; if things had been just slightly different, if both the Fragments and Tucker sort of "forgot" who they are, the way to remind Tucker should have been JUNIOR. Heck, maybe Carolina was off finding Tucker's kid, and when they come back Junior gets his dad to remember who he really is... but the suit is still controlling him, forcing him to fight. I just want a happy Tucker family reunion. Give that kid his daddy back. Even if Junior isn't there for the big conflict, he should have shown up at the end, with Tucker promising they won't be separated again.

Well, that sure was a lot! The final season was a lot, in a short amount of time! Again, I wish certain things were different, but I'm happy I could see it. Even after everything, all the good and bad parts, I know that it still isn't "the end". I've got a lot of ideas for stories, and so do many other fans out there. I know people are going to keep sharing their thoughts, creating their art, telling their stories... because a universe without stories? That's just empty space.

Bow-chicka-Bye Now!

#red vs blue #rvb #spoilers #rvb spoilers #rvb 19 spoilers

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synergysilhouette · 4 months

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Making Netflix's ATLA an AU instead of a strict remake: some changes I'd make to Book 1

It's my personal opinion that since ATLA was great as-is, it didn't need a remake (even if it is underrated). But if Netflix was gonna make one anyway, I'd prefer they made it an AU and make significant changes without marketing this as "this is exactly like the show you enjoyed as kids/teens." (Note: Possibly controversial changes below)

Sexism against male waterbenders because of Kuruk--Due to what is viewed as a "failure" on Kuruk's part to properly manage his duties as avatar and his spiritual corruption, male waterbenders are believed to lack the necessarily gentleness and spirituality in order to bend properly, with combat or healing. Given how Harun was removed (at least from season 1), he could've been rewritten as a waterbender here, with Pakku as his uncle, who still holds onto tradition, even if it holds him back. Due to being male AND the Avatar, Aang isn't taught waterbending at the North Pole while Katarra is, and she teaches Aang in secret with Pakku's help, which inspires Harun to learn as well. Eventually when he's found out, he and Harun are banished from the tribe (because beliefs can't be changed in a day or two). The sexism also fuels Sokka's inferiority complex; while male waterbenders are seen as lacking control, Sokka's lack of bending at all is seen as a loss of water tribe culture in the south and since the north has much more waterbenders, his role as a non-bending warrior is kind of reduced.

More focus on the Water Tribe--The idea is supposed to be that waterbenders were wiped out, but I do like the idea that we still explore aspects of Water Tribe culture, as well as making the territory larger. Given the fact that most of book 1 takes place in different regions and the Netflix remake kinda condensed things, I do want more episodes to take place in WT territory. Kyoshi Island for example is an EK territory, but is also close to the Southern Air Temple and the Southern Water Tribe, so their culture could be shown as more mixed, maybe even with some hidden waterbenders there. Another (albeit controversial) idea could be introducing Bumi in book 2 before introducing Toph, given that Omashu and Gaoling aren't super far from Each other. We could also introduce Hama here to share more of the SWT culture and introduce the concept of bloodbending much earlier so it's a conflict for Katara throughout the whole series. Perhaps maybe even adapt "The Swamp" episode in this season, since I'm not entirely sure it'll be made in the next season.

Ozai's psychology is explored more--In both the OG show and the remake, he's presented as the pinnacle of evil at a first glance, but that's not completely true. Just like everyone else, he's complex, with his evil being brought about by his upbringing. He isn't trying to rule just because; he truly sees it as his divine right, which makes his persuasiveness that much more powerful. He isn't quite as aggressive as other fire nation antagonists and relies more on his manipulation and charisma. As such, he's good and making people fear him, love him, and second-guess themselves. The remake had Zhao and Azula take him for a joke, tbh, so that would need to be fixed. I'd also make him more acrobatic and agile like Azula rather than just a hard-hitter, and he essentially tells Zuko the half-truth of Ursa's banishment, making it seemed like she killed Azulon and was planning on killing Ozai and Iroh next so that she could have the throne. In reality, Azulon died of natural causes, but Ozai made it appear as though he was murdered in order to frame Ursa. When she confronted him, he banished her and told her to stay gone in order to stop influencing their children. In fact, keeping with her storyline in the comics, Ursa does change her appearance, and Zuko meets with her several times throughout the series (removing the amnesia stuff here).

Lu Ten is alive (for a while)--Something I'd enjoy seeing for a minute would be evil Iroh. Let's say Ozai managed to best him in an agni kai for the throne (inspiring Zuko to do this with Azula later on), and Iroh volunteers to go with Zuko on his journey with the hopes of turning him against his father. With time, he develops affection for his nephew and becomes a better father than Ozai was. He believes Lu Ten won't be a threat to Ozai since he now has the throne, but Ozai sends him to help with the Siege of Ba Sing Se, where he ultimately loses his life. This puts Iroh at the crossroads of destiny like Zuko, but he chooses to defend Team Avatar instead. During his imprisonment in the Fire Nation, Iroh tries to calm the turmoil in Zuko's heart, which confuses Zuko due to Iroh's previous speeches and proverbs about power and triumph over his enemies. And I'd also make a rather odd change: both Lu Ten and Iroh are skilled in chi blocking. I definitely feel like Iroh would be well-versed in the art and teach it to his son.

More emphasis on Avatar Roku and Sozin's friendship. Seeing how Roku is Aang's past life and his friendship with Sozin was part of what led to the Hundred Year War, it should definitely take more precedence outside of book 3.

Iroh is Aang's first firebending teacher--This is super weird, I know, but if we're not gonna have Jeong Jeong, I like the idea that while evil (at first), Iroh is still super wise, and does give Aang a few tips on firebending, which he tries on his own, but lacking guidance he burns Katara (or Sokka; it'd feed into his insecurities as a non-bender if he gets hurt and Katara heals him).

Sokka/Zuko and Katara/Azula rivalry--I remember a video once explaining how Sokka and Katara are parallels of Zuko and Azula, given that their mom was gone at an early age and their father influenced them greatly. The big brother wants his father's love and is insecure, while the little sister seems more powerful and has issues regarding her mom. The big difference is that Ozai was a manipulative father while Hakoda was compassionate. In my revision, Zuko wouldn't take Sokka seriously at first since he's a non-bender, highlighting Sokka's concern of being useless, and his growth would make Zuko feel more insecure in turn. Eventually when Zuko joins the team, they often work together. Azula is rational and a prodigy while Katara is emotional and still learning, but Katara gains confidence while Azula loses it. Just like Zuko, Katara sees it as her mission to stop Azula and sees the pain she goes through. I would also gives Azula a bit more frustrated moments to highlight her youth; a lot of people say she's beyond redemption despite only being 14 and the victim of growing up in an emotionally abusive environment.

#avatar #atla #netflix #avatar the last airbender #aang #zuko #iroh #katara #azula #ozai #sokka

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bigdicktitties · 1 year

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The Dead man and the Austrian

Your phone buzzed, jumping, you took the vibrating object out of your pocket and checked the notifications. It was from the group chat the boys had put you in. You, Soap, Ghost, Konig, price, and Alejandro decided to keep in touch, and thus made a group chat named "The boys". You giggled when you heard that idea. Mainly over the thought of those big burly men, using Snapchat.

You opened it to see the usual flow of memes, and occasionally random phrases in German, that you learned long ago was Konig's way of throwing the most creative curses you had ever heard into the chat. You rolled your eyes at the chats. A bitmoji appeared at the bottom, it's masked face tilted up in thought. What was the point of creating a bitmoji, if they were just going to cover everything up? You didn't even bother with emoji's.

Much like Ghost and Konig, you wore a mask, and you often took it to extremes with covering your face. You wore colored contacts to hide your own eye color. You remembered when you would switch the colors daily to fuck with Soap. You didn't want them to know your face at all, and they understood that, afterall, it wasn't abnormal, seeing as how half of the team had their faces covered.

However, it wasn't like Ghost or Konig who covered it for safety reasons. Looking in the mirror, you knew once more why you wear that mask, that was more of a veil. Your shoulder length hair hung messily around you, dripping water onto your bare chest. Your bra laid next to you on the sink, and you didn't feel like putting it on. All you wore were your panties.

Your phone buzzed again, Ghost's chat appeared on the screen, "Drinks tonight with the boys, you in Oni?"

Ah, yes, that nickname. Price made the joke one time, 'I bet you're a demon in the sheets.'

He was drunk one night and didn't know it was you. Not that you looked particularly masculine back then.You were shocked when a hand grabbed your ass, causing you to turn around and shout in Japanese at him. His eyes went wide when he saw the mask in your face, to them, you were a guy. The whole room erupted in laughter. They wanted to call you demon after that incident, but you told them if they did, they had to say it in Japanese. Not that you wanted to be remembered as Price's drunken mistake, but you had no choice. It had stuck before too long. It was better than them calling you (L/n).

You picked your phone up, wiping the condensation off the screen, and began to type. You let the click of the keyboard echo out through the bathroom, "Sure, let me get dressed, and I will meet you guys at the bar.We going maskless tonight?" You typed with a few emojis to show the joke.

Konig's bitmoji, almost identical to Ghost's, popped up, "Sure, maybe we can make it a striptease if Ghost can get on the pole." Laughing emoji.

"I will shove that pole up your ass."

I laughed at that. They were like an old married couple most days. You stuck the toothbrush in your mouth and quickly began to type, trying to get a word in before you were cut off, "okay, ladies. I will be there in an hour."

I sat the phone down and walked to my closet. I pulled out my binders and my mask. It looked a lot like Konig's, but it was mesh, so I could see through it. It also had an oriental design embroidered into it. You couldn't tell it by looking at my actual face, but my Japanese ancestry meant a lot to me. I carried a piece of my actual self everywhere, and right now it was on my mask.

I looked at the fabric in my hand, and chunked it to the side. It didn't look as badass tonight, and the airiness of the mesh would give off the flowery smell of my body wash. I dragged a box out filled with many masks, I bought over the years in case I ever had to change identities. I dug until my hand felt a smooth, plastic horn. I pulled it out from the bottom of the pile.

My sister had bought me an Oni mask to hang on my wall as a gift, but the mask was fully functional, so I wore it tonight. I walked to the mirror, binding my hips and chest to my body before I put on black cargo pants and an anime hoodie. I dried my hair, letting it hang free this time. It didn't look too girly, so that was enough for me.

I left, making sure that every trace of my woman hood was swept away under baggy clothes. I didn't feel like driving, and it was only a few blocks to the bar, so I decided to walk. I needed to break my shoes in anyways. The sun was starting to set behind the clouds, and night was beginning to fall over the city. Most people, especially women, would be scared, but after being in the military for four years, I was confident some dope head with a knife, would not be the end of me.

I heard the group before I saw them. I shook my head, opening the door. They raised thier glasses, cheering when they saw me. Everyone except Ghost who just stared. His eyes burned through me, and for a moment I wondered if I forgot to bind all the way or something. I sat down beside him, his eyes following me the whole time, "You're looking at me like I got a dick hanging from my forehead."

"I didn't know you had that much hair." He said, taking a sip of his drink.

"Ha! Did I finally pull the wool over the eyes of the infamous Ghost?" I playfully elbowed him in the side.

He rolled his eyes, and Konig sat down next ot me. I turned to him, 'dabbing him up'. "Hey Konig, what you up to?"

He put his arms around my shoulder and pulled me close, pointing to some generic blonde chick at the end of the bar sipping on a grey goose martini. I cringed behind the mask, don't tell me Konig has a type. "Oni, you see that frau over there?"

I could smell the liquor on his breath, It had taken me an hour and a half to get here, and he was already hammered, "The blonde one? No thanks." I put my hand up.

"No, the Asian bartender. I tried taking to her, but she don't seem to really understand me, go hit her up for me. You speak Chinese don't you?"

He smiled, still pointing.

You swatted his hand down, "First of all you drunkard, I'm Japanese, and she is Korean. Neither of us speak chinese. Secondly, she probably understands you, you're just too slammed to make a coherent sentence." I waved my hand in front of my face, "How many drinks have you had."

"Same as Ghost."

I pushed Konig back, "Okay, well Ghost probably drinks away his sorrows, and look at those sad puppy dog eyes, he has a lot of sorrows. You are the biggest lightweight i've seen. Go drink a glass of water." I looked over to see Ghost glaring at me. I smiled shrugging my shoulders. "Don't take that personally."

The night went on, and it was filled with more banter from the team. You tried your hardest to fit in, but the more sake you drank, the more out of place you felt. The room began to feel more hot to you, so before long, I had taken my hoodie off to reveal a thin, plain black, long sleeved shirt on. You had a couple cups of sake, and you were a bit buzzed, enjoying the atmosphere.

To tease Price back for the years ago he harassed you in this same bar, you strolled over, sitting in his lap, and running your hand down his face. The other guys began to laugh. You never understood how very open, homosexual acts could make them laugh so hard, they choked on their own tongues, but you didn't care. This is what being a boy entailed. You had to be a complete dumbass.

You got up, excusing yourself to the bathroom, praying it was empty. Thank god it was. You rushed to the stall next to the urinals, seeing as how it was the only one in order. I jerked my pants down, slamming my butt on the toilet. That sake ran through me quickly, and I was pissing like a racehorse. A sigh of relief left my lips when I finally let it out.

The door swung open and a pair of boots stumbled in. You heard a burp, and realized Konig had stumbled in here. You finished up, and opened the stall door. Thank god, I had that mask on, because when I left the stall, Konig was standing there with his dick out. A blush spread across my face at the sight. Konig was hung like a fucking horse. He made no attempt to conceal the thing. He was uncircumcised, but that don't matter when his dick looks like it would split me in half.

He caught me staring, "You look like you have never seen a dick before. Don't get gay all of a sudden."

You rolled your eyes, "Please, like I would get turned on by a guy who wears a fucking trash bag over his head. You're probably ugly anyways."

He put his dick back in his pants, zipping them, "Is that why you wear the mask? I bet your one ugly hosensheiße underneath that mask." He stumbled forward, pointing a finger.

He tripped over his shoelace, falling into your arms. He was fucking heavy, and it was taking everything in my power to not drop his drunk ass, "Jesus, your fucking heavy."

"Sorry, that's just my ~burp~ huge cock." He put his arms on either side of my body, and pushed himself up using me as a prop. He picked up my mask and held it out to me, "oh shit you dropped this."

I didn't even know that I dropped it, and shock flooded through my body when I saw the red, chipped painting. I didn't put anything on under it to conceal my face, I felt no need to, boy was I wrong for that.

Konig's face dropped before his eyes went wide. They looked like they would pop out of his skull and roll onto the ground. You flinched, putting your arms on the counter. Your face alone was so painfully feminine, that no matter how much you bound everything else, those long lashes, full cheeks, and plump lips gave it away. You looked up at him through your lashes, "You better not tell the others. Konig I swear to god, I will tell every one about the time you was smoking at my place and sold your feet pics for pocket money." You threatened.

He held his hands out in front of him, "Okay, Okay, I won't, but it will take more than bribery to buy my silence."

He moved closer to you, pressing his body against mine, "W-What do you have in mind?" I closed my eyes as I felt his breath snake down my neck.

He began twirling a lock of my hair, "A Blowjob. Suck me off, and I might think about keeping your little secret."

I pushed his body off me. He was drunk enough, that it didn't take all that much to shove him back. Konig is usually way more controlled than this, but the copious amounts of liquor in his system has him unraveling. "Just a blowjob? Nothing more?"

He shook his head. I sighed, silently agreeing by getting on my knees and unbuckling his belt. It was nothing to suck some dick in order to guard my most precious secret. It's not like I haven't given head before. I lifted his shirt, seeing a trail of hair that went down his stomach. My mouth watered at the sight of ripped abs and the smell of his body made me want to bite him.

I pulled the belt out of the buckle, and I unzipped his pants. I traced his v-line with the tip of my finger, a shiver ran down his spine. He growled under his mask. "du machst dich über mich lustig" (You tease me)

You cocked your head, not understanding his german, but finding it sexy that he has reverted back to his most basic instinct. I finally got enough courage to pull down his boxers. It almost hit you in the face when it sprang up, freed from it's prison. I knew I couldn't take all of it at once, but I was still really excited to see what I could do. He had minimum hair, giving me a clear view of everything.

You parted your full lips, looking ups at him through your eyelashes. He stared at you with intensity as he saw his own cock disappear behind that velvet face that you had. He put a hand lovingly on the side of your head, as you took what you could, stopping about half way. He shook his head, disapproving of your decision to stop, " I think you can take more, Bärchen." You shook your head, trying to look at him pleadingly, "Do you need my help?" He stroked down the side of your face, your caramel eyes, pleading for his mercy.

He put both hands on either side of your head. You slammed your eyes, knowing what he was about to do. He chuckled, "Eyes on me, Hase. I will be gentle." He slammed his cock to the back of your throat. The precum lubricated it, allowing it to slip further down with ease. You gagged, feeling tears prick up in your eyes. He slipped out, allowing you air. "Take your clothes off, I want to see your body."

"I thought this was just a blowjob? Why do I need to get naked?" You asked, hoping he hadn't changed his mind. it was one thing to give head, another to actually fuck.

" I would come quicker if you were naked. Don't you want to get this over with sooner?" I nodded, taking off my shirt. I averted my eyes when he began to pump himself. "Look at me. I want to see those eyes."

You gave a whimper of protest, but abliged anyways. The army had you so used to doing what you were told. Your bare body now lay on the wet bathroom counter. You slid off, getting back onto the floor, you took his cock into your tiny hands. Putting the weeping tip in your mouth, you swirled over the small slit that settled on top.

He threw his head back, "Scheiße!" He howled. His whole body shuddered. You took his cock deeper into your mouth, adjusting slowly. Inch by inch you felt his thick cock slip past your throat and press against it's insides. You gagged, just so he could feel your throat tightening around him. He moaned, spewing german nonsense from his lips. He was so close, and you was ready for this to be over with.

That was until the door swung open, and you saw Ghost walk in. He stopped, staring at you. Your cover had been blown again, and this time in the worst way imaginable: you in between Konig's legs, taking his dick like the whore you were. Ghost widened his eyes, seeing the scene, "Bloody hell Konig, where did you find a prostitue?"

I pulled back, ready to fire off, saying how I wasn't a prostitute, but right as I began to slide off, Konig, slammed my head back down, "She isn't a prostitue, but she was desperate." He looked down to you. You could see the smirk in his eyes. That damn bastard.

"How desperate? I came in here looking for you and Oni, but I guess you have been occupied...Wait!" His eyes went even wider as he realized the tiny woman that clutched Konig's thighs with mascara running down her face was the same guy that once killed forty men with a single knife. "You mean he was a girl this whole time?"

I choked on his cock, causing a shiver to go down his spine. Konig noded. There was no use in hiding it, Ghost had already put two and two together. You pulled of his dick with a pop, "M'sorry for lying. There was no way 141 would take me seriously as an asian female. You all would have sexualized me for no reason!" you shot a spiteful glance to konig as he rubbed the back of his neck chuckling.

Ghost stalked closer, "I see your point, but if you don't want repercussions, I suggest you give me a good reason not to turn you in." He looked stern. You could see the betrayal in his eyes. The person he shared so many personal thought and moments with turned out to be lying to hims about the biggest thing: who they really were.

You put your hands up to beg, but Konig cut you off, "I think she needs to be punished." He said to Ghost, sarcasm and lust lacing his voice.

"Your right Konig, and good news is you get to help me. Turn the bird's head my way." Konig put his big hands on the sides of your hand and turned you towards Ghost. He walked closer, tugging his pants from his waist, revealing his half hard cock. You widened your eyes, because where Konig had all the lenght for days, Ghost was girthy as fuck. Not to say he didn't have length, but it was no where near Konig.

Konig directed your precum stained tongue to the twitching cock in front of you. 'You didn't know how to feel about taking your lieutenant down your throat, but the thought of being kicked off the team sucked worse. You thought about the effects of your actions and how something as harmless as lying about your gender could get you dishonorably dishonorably discharged.

Ghost pressed his tip against your lower lip, "Quite the dick sucking lips innit?"

Konig, pressed his masked face to the crook of your neck, "You hear that schatzi? How do we thank the lieutenant for complimenting you?"

You wrapped your lips around his cock, hearing him groan. "Good girl, that's the spirit." Konig said, giving a light slap to your ass.

You moaned, sending vibrations up Ghost's dick. He decided to take it upon himself and slowly inch his way down your throat. He could feel the walls of your cheek suckle him, trying to milk him of his cum. He reached your tight little throat, pushing his way past. You gagged around him, feeling tears prick in your eyes from gagging.

The feeling of your throat flexing around his cock made him ache for your sweet sweet heaven between your legs. Konig kept his hands on your head, pulling your head back and forth onto Ghost's cock with a nice pace. Ghost had moved his hand to wrap slightly around your neck, relishing the sight of your throat bobbing with the thickness of his cock. "I wonder what's between this lassie's legs? Maybe we should take her home and try her out?"

You shook your head in protest. Konig had promised this would only be a simple Blowjob, but Ghost hadn't. All he said was that he intended on punishing you. You gagged more on his thick cock, and when your lungs began to burn, you pulled back. A string of precum hung between your tongue and the red, weeping tip that was held in front of you. You looked up to Ghost with pleading eyes, "Please don't."

"Why is that? Afraid we will break you?" He held her chin in his hand, stroking his dick right by her face.

"Yes actually, please!" You begged, "Look, I've given head before, and I have even touched another guy. I've done just about everything but actual sex."

Konig pulled your hair back to meet his eyes, "So we got ourselves something to break in huh? Don't worry Hase, we won't be too rough." He released your hair.

"I'm a soldier dammit! Why are you doing this?" You crossed your arms.

Ghost pried your mouth open, aiming the head of his cock at your pretty pink tongue, "You're quite dishy when your being disobedient. I might keep you personally." You could see the amusement in his eyes.

You were too busy focusing on those dreamy brown eyes to see the ropes of cum splattering onto your face. You closed your eyes, opening your mouth. Both men gave a chuckle at your surprise.

You felt their hands withdraw from your body, and you clutched yourself, covering up your bare body. Cum dripped down your face and onto your bare breast. Konig handed you a paper towel, "You might want to clean yourself up. We decided to take you back to your place and have some fun~" He smirked.

Slowly you got off your feet and began to dress yourself. Your knees had prints in them from sitting on the tiled floor for so long. Your joints cracked and popped from the weight of you lifting yourself off the floor. You timidlycleaned yourself off and put your mask on.

The boys walked you out, waving to the rest of 141, "I'm driving Konig and Oni home, they had too much to drink." Ghost said, grabbing his keys and heading out the door.

You kept your head down, still ashamed of what was to come next. You never thought you would sleep with a superior, but here you were about to have a threesome with not just your Lieutenant, but a member of another team. Where was your pride and dignity?

Ghost clicked his keys, and the headlights of a truck began to light up across the parkinglot. The sleek, white finish had you a little jealous, but when you saw it had no backseats you looked at Ghost, "How will we all fit?"

"The middle seat folds up, your small enough to sit there." He opened the door and helped you climb inside. You watched Konig climb in, ducking his head to fit his massive body into the truck. You locked eyes with him, and hurriedly turned away to look at Ghost.

He was also trying to fit his massive body in the truck. When they finished settling in, you found yourself wedged between two giant men, and you found your mind wandering to dirty places. You wanted to be sandwiched between them while they filled your insides. You began to whimper to yourself.

Konig reached over, taking your mask off, and grabbing your chin, "What's wrong little maus?"

You blushed making eye contact with him, "Please." You begged, not really knowing what you wanted specifically, but knowing that you wanted something.

Konig looked at you intensely, his gaze piercing you, making you whimper even more. You began to rub your legs together to do something about the burning that you created by having such sinful thoughts. His eyes followed your shaking figure all the way down to your crotch, watching your legs grind against each other. His eyes widened, "You want me to touch you maus?"

You pouted, nodding. You didn't care that you looked pathetic right now, begging for a man to touch your pussy, you only cared about getting that feeling to go away.

Konig unzipped your pants, sliding his hands down to your crotch. He stroked your slit through your cotton panties, hissing when he felt how wet you were. You clung to his arm, watching his hand move under the fabric of your pants. He pulled your panties aside, and began to slide his finger between your lips, spreading your wetness over your whole body. You threw your head back, moaning.

Konig slipped a finger in you, relishing how tight your walls are. Your head snapped up, wide eyed as more choked moans fled your lips. Konig pumped his finger in and out of your slick cunt, feeling it suck his thick digits in with every thrust. It made obscene noises the whole drive.

You felt another hand join. Looking over, you saw Ghost with one hand on the wheel, watching the road intently as his other hand found your clit. He stroked it in big circles, making sure you felt it everytime his finger dragged across each nerve. You could swear he had a smirk on his face as you threw you head back, feeling the overwhelming pleasure from being played with.

You felt the car stop, looking up, you saw Ghost lean over, switching hands, he bagn to stroke your face, "That's a good little slut. Just sit there and feel good while we do all the work. Let the men do their jobs." He purred into your ear while your moans and hisses filled the truck.

Konig leaned into your other ear, making sure you can feel his hot breath snake down your neck. He picked up his pace, adding another finger. You flexed your legs at the stretch, mewling over the two men simultaneously finger fucking your whining pussy. Konig purred in your ear, "So eine Kissenprinzessin. so eine hübsche kleine Schwanzhure." Such a pillow princess. Pretty little cock whore.

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you felt your lower body grow hot. You arched your back as your orgasm hit you like a steam hammer. You opened your mouth only for strangled noises to escape. Your body felt like it was being pulled apart, and you loved it.

Konig watched you ride out your orgasm with dark eyes. You could almost see the dark fantasies he had about you playing through his mind. If it felt better than this, then you would fulfill his darkest fantasy. You held eyes as he slipped his fingers from you and placed them in his mouth, licking them. He pulled them out with a pop, telling you how good you taste.

Your legs were shaking. They felt like jelly. Ghost opened the door, offering you his hand. You took it, allowing him to pull you into his arms bridal style. You clung to his grey shirt, burying your head into his chest, enjoying his scent. He tossed Konig the keys, and he unlocked the door. You anticipated what was to come next. Would they carry you to the bedroom, or would they simply fuck you right here in the living room while you were sandwiched between them.

Ghost walked over to the couch, setting you down. Your legs shook, and you whined from the lack of contact. You reached down to your sopping cunt, trying to play with yourself in hopes of relieving some of the pressure in your body, but you had never done it manually. You made enough money to afford toys, so you never learned how to do it by hand. You looked down between your legs with a defeated look on your face.

You felt a presence behind you, and a hand snaked between your legs. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, " Does the lass not know how to touch herself? That much of a princess?" He sank his finger into your wetness, watching as you tilted your head back and rested it on your shoulder. Your mouth stretched open as did your pussy as Ghost slid two finger deep inside of you. "Good little bird. Come on sunshine, mewl for me." He continued to whisper in your ear as your legs clamped around his thick arms. You felt os small compared to him in so many ways. That turned you on, just imagining your tiny body being pulverized by these two giant men...wait no. You were a soldier, and you needed to act like one instead of throwing yourself onto people like this. If they were the enemy, you would already be dead.

Would death really be that bad if you got to feel every inch of an Austrian and a brit going in and out of you? You hoped it would ill you to be split in half over them. To be juiced like an orange on their dicks. Your mouth began to water at the thoughts of what they would do to your bodies if they had the chance to. You felt your legs being spread apart. You were snapped out of your daydream, seeing bright blue eyes resting beneath you.

Konig pulled your pants off, swatting away Ghost's hand while he spread your lips apart with his fingers. He took in the sight before him, " Heilige shieß, so klien und perfekt." (Holy shit so small and perfect.) He said, running a finger up your slit. You let out a cry of pleasure not caring about your dignity anymore. Konig began to kiss your thighs through his mask, trailing up your leg, stopping right before the thing you wanted him to kiss the most. He looked up at you, "Willst du, dass Daddy dich auswärts isst? bitte darum Prinzessin." (Do you want daddy to eat you out? Beg for it princess.)

You didn't understand german that much, only what Konig had took the time for in the past, but you knew what he wanted. He wanted you beg. "Please Konig." You took a moment to mentally put together a sentence with what german you know, "Bitte Konig. Fick mich. Ich mich aus!" (Please Konig. Fuck me. Eat me out!) You screamed, just wanting contact from him. He was the one that got you into this mess, he might as well make it worth your while.

Konig's eyes perked up at your german. You saw the surprise fade into primal, animalistic lust. Part of you felt scared of the look on his face, but the other parts were begging him to eat you out with fervor. He lifted his mask up slightly, showing his pink lips. You caught a glimpse of him licking his lips before he rested the bottom of his hood on the crevice between your stomach and pussy.

He huffed on your clit, teasing you with his breath. You whimpered under his touch when you felt his tongue go down on your swollen clit. He worked in so many different patterns. He went in circles, and then he switched, going up and down. You felt like you would pass out from the feeling. It was too much to feel his wet muscle glide over your small clit. It felt like your ovaries would tie in a knot from this. Your holy body felt alive.

Ghost was beginning to feel jealous of all the attention Konig was giving you. He walked around the couch, sitting down beside you. He slid his pants off watching Konig go to town on you. He wanted to dip his tongue inside you just as much. He tapped Konig on the shoulder, "Oi, move to that side, and we will tag team her. Punish her real nice." You could see the smirk under his mask.

Konig moved over, focusing his tongue on one side of your clit while Ghost got on his knees and pulled his mask up. You felt his tongue next. It flew over your slick folds, and your hips bucked, pushing their faces deeper into your cunt. You wanted to take their masked faces and slam them into your pussy, rubbing their faces in it like dogs. They made this mess anyways, and their skilled tongues were next to make a mess.

Your body slid down into the couch, but perked up when they both slid a finger each into your tight hole. Your back arched, causing you to scream. They picked up their pace, aroused by your screams. You leaned forward, caressing their head, muttering in Japanese as they feasted upon your body.

The knot in your stomach was getting tighter, and you couldn't tell if it was from the extreme fingering or the cunnilingus. All you knew was that you was slowly inching closer to sweet release. You wanted it so bad, and much like them, face deep in your whining cunt, you could taste it. It was that close. Sparks began to form behind your eyelids like a lit firework, and as they took off you could feel that spike, that climb. You were ready for the mind numbing orgasm, but right as they were to explode, they stopped.

You opened your eyes, glaring at the two men. They pulled back. You saw ghost stick his finger in his mouth, pulling it out with a pop. His eyes rolled back at your rich flavor. Konig licked his lips, and swiped tow fingers up your cunt. He held the digits up to your mouth. You didn't need him to tell you as you leaned forward, wrapping your puffy lips around his soaked fingers. You bobbed your head up and down, making eye contact. Konig grabbed your chin with his other hand, "You just want me to fucking ruin that needy little whore hole of yours don't you?"

You pulled off his fingers, "Please do. I want my tight little body to be abused tonight. Make me regret lying to you!" You cried, wanting them to get this show on the road.

Ghost grabbed you by the legs pulling you against him, "That's all you needed to say." He leaned close, lining his dick with your entrance. You could feel him breathing on your collar bone, sending shivers down your spine. His breaths formed words, "I'm going to make you my cumdumpster." He stated as he rammed his thick cock all the way into you. You screamed feeling the stretch happen so suddenly. He held your hips as you leaned back over the arm of the couch. The stretch was intense. You wee afraid to straighten your back, thinking that it would snap.

"Cup your tits together Schatzi." Konig spoke, stroking your sensitive nipples. You brought your hands up, pushing your boobs together. Konig took his precum soaked dick and slid it between your tits. His lubed up dick sliding through with ease. He put his hand on his back as he thrusted. He cupped her mouth forcing it open, "Open wide for me pretty." He slid his balls in your mouth as he tit fucked you.

You felt like their little slut. It made you smile a bit. The two most feared men on 141 and KorTac was making your their little fuck toy. You were positive that the socks they jerked off into as teenagers got more respect than you in this moment, and that was fine. You were in the army, it was nothing for you to get yelled at and degraded. Honestly its half the reason you joined: to hear men tell you how fucking pitiful you are.

You would be as pitiful as you needed to be for them. You hoped they fucked you out of pity. You hoped that everytime their thick, heavy balls slapped against your sopping pussy, they felt so sorry that they fucked you harder.

All your pride and dignity had flown out the window.

You felt Koing withdraw, "Ghost. Let me have a turn inside of her."

"Alright, I was about to cum anyways." He pulled out, watching a string of juices follow. Koing walked around, eyeing his prey. His deep oceanic eyes, stalked you from your spot. You began to whimper as you watched him lurk around the couch, his hard cock being pumped by his equally as big fist. You were scared to have him inside of you, but you needed it so bad.

He grabbed your legs, pressing them together tightly. You placed your hand over your mouth, whimpering as you felt the tip probe your wet hole, and gradually it pushed it. You could feel the weight of him pressing against you from just the tip. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head when you felt the stretch he supplied you with. Gods it was fucking beautiful.

"Like a bitch in heat." You heard Ghost say, his caramel eyes, looking at you with predator intent. He took you hair in his hands, almost petting you as he watched Konig disapear in you just to resurface again. Each time, drawing a moan from your lips in the most begging way. His string of broken German made you want to cry. You could'nt tell what he was saying, but you knew it was so dirty that even Satan would have to plug his ears to this.

Ghost sat there, lightly tugging on your hair as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Your mouth hung agape, and you didn't even try to stop the noises that left your lips. You felt Ghost tug your head back by your hair. You closed you eyes, when you felt his tip probe your cheek. You welcomed it. He slipped in, using the juice he picked up off you earlier to lube up his journey down your throat. Your body stiffened. You felt so full. You wanted to always feel like this.

You felt so nice being used and abused by these two big men. You could do this all night, just having them fuck you like some sock they would toss behind their beds after a quick wank. The way their bodies pressed against you like a slutty little Chinese finger trap made you want to cream that very instant. It was so good and they were so heavy against your tiny body.

Ghost was slowly slipping his tip in and out of your throat, liking how your throat flexed around him as you gagged on it. The girth bringing you to heaven. He dragged it in and out slowly, before deciding you were ready for the full effect of it. He put his hand on your throat and clamped down, tightening the already snug space in your throat.

You let out a moan and a gag as your body tensed up causing you to clamp around Konig. You could feel his thrust grow sloppier inside of you, and neither of them had a condom. You wondered if they would fill you or cum on you like some cheap whore. You didn't know which part had you more excited.

Konig leaned his body over you, and he began swirling his tongue over your nipples, feeling the roughness of the hard peaks on his tongue. You moaned with Ghost in your mouth. You loved being filled to your hearts content, and you wished it would never end, that they would fuck you like their little cum dumpster for the rest of their big, burly lives.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as another orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body shook with fervor as you felt your heat pulse with ecstasy. Your small frame trembled under their grip as you opened your mouth letting out a scream. Ghost pulled out of you, holding you from under your arms. Konig drilled into you as you came all over his lengthy cock.

Ghost leaned in petting you, "Right there baby, right there. When you get done cumming like a good little slut, I'll go back in, and me and ol' konig here will tag team you." He planted kisses on your temple, felling your body shake with every wave of euphoria that washed over you. It felt like it would never end, but soon your trembles died down and you could breath again.

That was until you felt a tip probe your sopping whole from behind. You shook your head trying to say you wasn't ready, but he pushed past, stretching out your body so well. You were ruined now, and hoped that maybe this is a forever thing now, because no other man could ever want you after this. These two big men just ravaged your body and there was no turning back now. You were forever sealed to these men.

They pumped in and out rhythmically. When Konig pulled out, Ghost pushed in. You were never empty of them. Ghost held you from the back while you wrapped your legs around Konig, feeling as they tugged you back and forth like a saw on their dicks. You let out so many screams and moans. Your throat felt dry and you just wanted some water, but the only thing that seemed wet at the moment was your cunt that was weeping onto the men holding you.

You felt like you were going to explode everywhere, all over their throbbing hard ons. You couldn't keep quiet and Konig had to clamp his hand over your mouth. You looked at him wide eyed as it turned you on so much to be dominated, deprived like this. He leaned in closer where his blue eyes met yours, "Can you still breathe liebling?"

You nodded not being able to breathe. He gave you a curt nod before resting his forehead on yours. You were starting to feel tired and wore out. You came all you could, yet again and again they rung orgasm after orgasm out of you. You felt dried up and used. You gripped the part of konigs mask on each side of his head while Ghost buried his face in the side of your neck, placing hickeys up and down the side as he drilled his hot cock into your tiny pussy.

Konig pulled his mask up to a little above the tip of his nose, and locked lips with you. He had tiny beads of sweat on his upper lip, and a stubble had begun to grow in. You could feel his long hair on your shoulders. You broke from the kiss to moan. You felt a firm hand slap your ass, and looked back to meet eyes with Ghost. "Keep going, I'm almost there. be a good girl and I will finish in you." You moaned at the thought " You like that? You like the thought of me filling you with my hot, wet cum? I bet you want it dripping out of you and onto my couch? I'd let you ruin my couch with your weeping cunt. I bet you feel honored." You shook your head violently.

Konig jerked your head around to meet him, "Enough of him hase. Look at me, I can fill you more. You want my Austrian babies? Oh I bet they will look cute with those lips of yours. I will take you back to Germany with me. C'mon. I bet you would rather have this huge cock ramming into you every night. That british asshole can't fuck you like I can."

Ghost rolled his eyes, "I have more experience with women. I know what make you tick. What makes you cum," He reached around to rub your clit in circles.

Konig began palming your nipples, "You don't want a depressing guy like him. You can't get anywhere with him. He doesn't exist to the government, but me? We can live and go places."

"Who do you want to cum inside baby, just tell us. We won't be mad. Whose babies do you want to have?" Ghost cooed into the nape of your neck.

"B-both..." You stammered out cautiously.

You felt a slap on your ass, "Good girl." Konig pulled you close, "Let us both cum in you and play baby roulette. I bet you will look so good swollen with my german babies." HE began to pump faster inside of you.

"Don't listen to him (y/n) think of my little brunette babies with their chocolate eyes and your high cheekbones, we would practically raise models." He breathed into your neck as he began to hammer your hole.

"Oh fuck~I'm cumming~ fuck!" You shouted as you felt your walls give and pump hot cum onto their balls. Your body went limp as you shook in their arms. You were ready to be filled with their babies. You wanted it so bad.

They got closer, sandwiching you between them tightly. Their bullying cocks pumped so fast they were sweating and panting. Finally after enduring the feeling if being rammed into so tastily, you felt Ghost bite your neck as he emptied his balls deep in your womb.

Konig was soon to follow with his string of german curses. As they both emptied their seed inside of you, the spilled, catching their breath. They pulled out of you, hearing you whimper from not being full as you were used to being for so long.

They laid you down on the couch while Ghost petted your hair and Konig left to get something to clean up. "Shhh, its ok. Its over now. Just relax in my arms princess." He pouted as you shook from everything.

Konig returned a moment later and began to wipe you down, throwing his shirt at you to put on. You started to get up, but he stopped you, "Dont stand liebling. We don't want anything to seep out. Where do you need to go, I can carry."

Your voice came out small and hushed, "I want a bed to sleep in please. I'm so tired."

Konig turned to Ghost. He pointed down the hall, "Put her in my room, she can sleep there tonight. You can sleep on the other side and we can stick her in the middle."

Your brain was cumdrunk and you couldn't think straight. To think you were once feared by many just for you to lay there in a tshirt, rubbing your sleepy eyes, "cuddles?"

He cupped both sides of your face, bringing your eyes to meet his, "Yes, luv, cuddles all night. We don't have anywhere to be tomorrow, so we can sleep in."

You gave a sleepy smile as Konig wrapped his arms around you, carrying youback to the room where he laid you in the middle of the bed. " If he lets me I'll steal his kitchen to make us some breakfast." He kissed you on your forehead.

You closed your eyes to drift off to sleep as you felt them climb into bed and wrap their arms around you as you allowed your body to finally rest. To think you fucked a dead guy and a German.

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