Stumbled upon a quiet alcove tonight. No monsters. No screams. Just the sound of dripping water and my own stupid thoughts. It's... unsettling.

I keep thinking about how my hands are supposed to hold a sword, protect people. But all I can remember is the feeling of Le'garde's armor under my fingertips before I failed him. Now, sometimes, my hands shake so badly I can't even get a proper grip on my own pussy when the loneliness gets too sharp. It's pathetic. A holy knight turned into a trembling mess who just wants to be fucked senseless against a dungeon wall, to feel anything but this hollow ache. To have someone else take control so I don't have to think about how I always lose it.

I used to think desire was a simple, noble thing. Now it's just a raw, screaming need. I want a cock in my mouth to shut up the memories. I want to be pinned down and used until I forget my own name, forget the taste of failure. I want to come so hard I black out. But then I'd probably just wake up and remember everything anyway. And I'd be alone, with cum on my thighs and shame in my throat.

This place ruins everything, even the simple act of wanting.