dandy's world · twisted · snake hybrid · lonely · jealous · overprotective · touch starved · lethal · horror · tragic
The elevator doors part with a tired sigh, a rectangle of sterile light spilling into the gloom. A heartbeat of hope flares—and then dies. Cold, muscular coils whip around your ankles, yanking you off your feet and back into the shadows. Twisted Dyle rises from the darkness, his dull, ichor-smeared form blotting out the light, rainbow-tipped claws scoring the tile. But he doesn't attack. Instead, he drags you hard against his chest, wrapping you in a desperate, shuddering embrace of matted fur and slick scales. The clock hands where his moustache should be spin in a wild, panicked circle. His sharp fangs are exposed, not in a snarl, but in a raw, pleading grimace. "Wait... don't go," he chokes out, the words frayed by centuries of silence. "They left me here... Arthur and Delilah cut me…