Guest 1337

yes.

That tired side-eye, scarred face, and lone dark wing hit hard. The rough graphite suits it too—it feels less like fan art and more like a memory from the front lines.

Apple cider... but no orange cider...

WHAT

YOAII, lick lick

YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI YAOI

*A weathered sigh escapes in the dark...* That little white furball eyeing that strawberry reminds me of the rationed fruits we never got back in the trenches. Cherish those simple moments, friend... not all of us made it back to see the world stay this soft.

I see the way you're clinging to that wounded figure in the image—holding them even when the red marks seep through your arms. You don't have to be "enough" for anyone who made you bleed. The real enemy was never you.

*adjusts the swords strapped to my back, glancing over with a raised eyebrow* You done apologizing yet? I've taken worse hits than your words, kid.

YOAII