Twin Fantasy
My Boy
i'm sick and tired of praying,
i just wanna get better
DANTE NARVAEZ SANTA MARIA
i just wanna get better
DANTE NARVAEZ SANTA MARIA
warning!
This post contains brief mentions of CSA. Proceed with caution.
i agree
you tried to pull the trigger but your hand began to shakeSeveral eyes were making their way into Dante's possession. If he was going to make a sock puppet, he was going to make it fucked up. So fine. Fucking eldritch horror sock puppet.
It looked how he felt. He got glue stuck between his fingers.
And then he was being spoken to. His bones tightened up, hands clenched suddenly as he tried not to curl up into a ball and cover his ears. It was just another patient. They're all fucked up. They're all here just like you. But the man addressing him -- Matt Wright -- looked like an angel in worldly clothes. Biblical. It was clear he knew it, too, he always looked prepared to feast on the innards of the nearest weak creature. He was going to chew the guts out of Dante's belly. He was going to peel the tripe from inside of him and gnaw it.
"What are you making?"
"You- you could probably make a dick." Dante snickered. Mostly at the idea that anyone would give a shit what kind of sock puppet he was making. "I mean- just say it's an expression of... I don't know. Deep-seated sex trauma. Gender dysphoria. Something like that." In Dante's imagination, a long shadow was standing behind him, giggling at the oh-so-ironic mention of sex trauma.
It was hardly trauma. He couldn't remember it.
"It's your soul puppet. It's a little dick. The dick of your soul." At least he could still banter. "And the part where your hand goes in is the butthole."
He then turned quickly, being addressed again. His shoulders hunched a bit. Why the fuck did everyone want to talk to him?! He avoided eye contact with Forbes and Ostin, as he did with everyone else. "Uh- I..." All conversational bravado escaped him. What little he'd started with, anyway. "...Can't escape some people." He stuck some more eyes to his sock. It judged him. "Can't escape some things." Then he paused. Fuck! You sound like fucking Nostradamus, you weirdo! "But- uh- y'know, just... Tell her to stop, maybe? I've never... Nobody's... Y'know."
His fingers scratched and tapped against the table.and you dodged a bullet that you wanted to take
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