tfln open post

[byanyname]

***

either leave a message (or set of muses) for one of my assholes, or request a message from one of them. choose messages from the classic source, from your own skull, or whatever you may please.

Comments

2/2

[halfdozenoftheother]

I take interest or I don't.

1/3

[harpsibored]

[ Time slides by. She reads, and re-reads, and still the anticipated feelings - arousal, pleasure, dismissive amusement - fail to form. Instead, something cold.

He's never inspired that before.

That choking. That defiant and slow-rising rage.

She's responding without consideration or caution. ]

You go too far.

2/3

[harpsibored]

[ And then: ]

My voice is no gift from you. Or any other.

I remember the years, and you were not there, guiding me.

For my voice, I worked alone. Crafted alone.

Fought alone.

It is mine alone.

[...]

Take back the words.

3/3

[harpsibored]

[...]

Or take back your interest.

[halfdozenoftheother]

[ White noise and blood-shot. His skull strung with tension.

Fist gone rigid, pressure at his knuckles.

Fucking dramatics.

Fucking obstinance.

Fucking—

What does she think she—

Thinks she can.

Thinks she can simply.

Pressure, everything clamped inward, muscles coiled, his teeth ground together.

A minor shattering he scarcely registers. His phone in pieces on the floor.

He's standing. Bends to press a hand into the pieces, sharp small bites, deeper as he slams his palm downward.

Make certain the fucking device never speaks again.

And stride from the room. In search of prey, a neck to break, veins to stain the cellar.

No sight, no thought, no moment for reflection.

She isn't worth his fucking time. ]