---UNDERGOING EDITING!!!---- Cw: gore, abuse, scars, blood, underage alcohol/drug usage, foul language, ect No smut. Fluff only. I spoke before he could hurt me again. "I know what's under the church, father." His face twisted with anger, but I kept going, tightening my grip on his wrist. "And I'm fascinated with it." "What do you mean, boy?" I looked him dead in the eyes. "I want to join the Devourers of God." (This story actually has a plot:) None of these characters, art, ect belongs to me. All rights go to the creator of the sally face games :)

Travis Phelps- the homophobic asshole that beat up the outsiders as a way to filter his own self hatred, stuck in an abusive household. He was miserable, gay and being suffocated by the grip of his father's religiousness. Sal Fisher- the new kid in town, the exact thing Travis hated. Gay and transgender, on the outside happy with his life. On the inside, dying from a heart disease and living with a verbally abusive alcoholic father. Both were miserable, though it was hardly obvious to outsiders. They were polar opposites yet the exact same. Brought together by the very same religiousness that was slowly killing them, the two are at first enemies. Though after growing together, they make a decision. They were going to run away. They were going to live how they wanted. Even if it killed them. cross-posted on ao3. this fic does not have a happy ending. don't like? don't read.