“ what do you want ? ” there’s no anger , like usually , but a hint of slight annoyance . he’s not good with new people——or anyone , for that matter . “ i don’t have any food for you . ”
the sight somehow tugs at his hummingbird heart , despite of the existence of the desires in the back of his head , that threaten to taint the entirety of his being . “ was probably lookin’ for its mommy . ”
a single bullet , both thunder & lightning——some strange pavlovian response that makes his skin feel too tight around his bones , & the fire in his belly set into a stone——heavy , imposing , beneath the muscle . “ what did you say ? , ” ( + )
“i know enough like you.” boys like him are all she will ever know. boys like him feed into her gluttonous ache for violence, boys like him know how to keep her wound tight and on the edge of absolution, boys like him will always …
eyes find the deteriorating thing , far too small & porcelain—made , painted in red as it gushes in think ropes over the dry grass . “ about the helpless ? ” branches protest beneath each step , crouching to observe , to study . a digit finds the exit wound , & ( + )
tate is written in a female perspective , meaning i focus on the damage he did to women in the series . tate is not romanticized , & i do not sympathize with his actions . tate committed sexual & mental abuse , this is not erased in my portrayal——EST . 2013 .