08-28-2018, 08:23 AM
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He was out of fucking booze. He was out of ducking booze and the memories were already trying to bother him again. Maybe violence was a trigger for him, but being triggered was for pussies. Dagon dealt with Dimitri’s trauma- their trauma- by drinking. A sober ass Dagon approached them now, tired and trying to get something off his mind.
He looked at Stryker with pupiless, black eyes.
"Hold still, Dimitri. It will all be over soon. You’re doing such a good job you little fuck-" He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to shake away the memory.
Stryker wouldn’t do that to him. That wasn’t one thing any of these fuckers could do to him.
Dagon moved forward, nudging her with his nose and trying to lift her head up. There was a grumble from Dagon as he looked over the books. "Need some fuckin help?”
He looked at Stryker with pupiless, black eyes.
"Hold still, Dimitri. It will all be over soon. You’re doing such a good job you little fuck-" He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to shake away the memory.
Stryker wouldn’t do that to him. That wasn’t one thing any of these fuckers could do to him.
Dagon moved forward, nudging her with his nose and trying to lift her head up. There was a grumble from Dagon as he looked over the books. "Need some fuckin help?”
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