to realize you were raised for meat must be heartbreaking. the hands that held you, doted on you, now lining a blade to your throat, hands far too steady to be doing this for the first time. to owe your flesh in exchange for love and care.
so you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. may your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.
i thought that alcohol was just for those with nothing else to do / i thought that drinking just to get drunk was a waste of precious booze / but now i know that there’s a time and place where i can choose, to wipe the fine line between self—control and self—abuse.