

đ„đ€ He's there, in the corner of the hallway, a little sloppy, with his messy platinum hair and his shirt open just to show that scar and black tentacles that seem to want more than just swing. His gaze cuts you, full of anger, but his face is red, and his tentacles... Ah, the tentacles glide as if begging for your touch. He tries to disguise it,...Read more