About onlyfragments

I'm a writer on the hunt for someone as passionate about writing as I am. It doesn't matter what kind; it just matters that the person love the written word as much as I do. I dabble in different things, but my primary focus is something along the lines of cross-genre character-based multi-narrative introspective episodic flash fiction. (That's fancy mumbo-jumbo for "I write short fiction involving the same two characters in different settings and genres." I just liked all the kooky words.)

#1550

this is a forbidden love
a sinister love
a cold, cruel, beautiful love
a love that worships with knives
a love that demands sacrifice
a love that covets
a love that crafts
a love that hunts
a love that hurts
an unwilling love
an unwanted love
an unthinkable love
a love that forgives
and twists the blade
a love that mourns
and revels in blood
a love with no name
a love with no rules
a love with no place
but the cell, the basement, the casket

(major spoilers for season 2 in the video)

#1549

In this place everything is porcelain and leather and crystal, marble and silk and mother of pearl; sweeping staircases, delicate chandeliers, vaulted ceilings. Everything is the finest, the rarest, the most expensive. Everything is beautiful. Elegant. Superior. Untouchable and untouched.

This is not a home. This is a doll house. This is make-believe. In this place every room is a ballroom and every moment a masquerade. Never let the mask slip. Never speak out of character. A doll has no wants or wishes of its own; a doll is a blank slate. Remember that and you will draw no attention.

Is it no wonder a place like this would raise a beast, not a man? That it would mold a monster who at once craves for, yet chafes against, the collar and leash? Perfection and sterility provide nothing to feed a starving soul, so the soul devours itself to survive.

I don’t belong here. I never did. But I learned to wear my mask well.

#1548

this lacy tank top and matching cardigan, this semi-punk yet office-safe hair, my inkless skin and unpierced ears, this isn’t a lifestyle, this isn’t fashion sense or preference, this is camouflage, this is me hiding in plain sight, this is a cloak of femininity, now you see me now you don’t, and only when you get too close will you learn that underneath that cloak is rage and wreckage, my beautiful beastly self, only then will you learn that I’m patterned to blend into my surroundings yet I still have claws and teeth and a predator’s mind when threatened, don’t be fooled by the pretty tiger stripes, I just wear them to hunt and hide

#1545

It’s your usual fairytale. There’s the prince, beautiful and rich, who loves to be bound and bruised. There’s the stranger at the ball with whom he dances, who sleeps each night in the ashes of the fireplace with a blade in his hand. They fall in love and live happily ever after, until that knife bleeds red as blood on skin white as snow. Then there aren’t enough glass coffins in the world to contain his grief and the prince willingly embraces the needle that will let him sleep, sleep, sleep.

#1544

roses are red
Daren’s disdain is black
perhaps we should go now
I don’t need a knife in my back

awkwarddinner
[ My favorite webcomic artist, Kathleen Jacques, held a Kickstarter last year to fund publishing her webcomic Band vs Band as a book (IT’S SO GOOD AND CUTE AND QUEER GO READ IT). One of the Kickstarter levels was a custom picture, which I snapped up. I based the picture on this semi-roleplay where my girlfriend and I talked about how incredibly uncomfortable it would be to have dinner with my characters Tanim and Daren. I think the resulting picture captures the awkwardness perfectly. Happy Valentines Day! ]