Saltburnt Inbox

[snaggleteeth]

WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK

USERNAME:
QIMIR

text ❖ audio ❖ video

Comments

— telepathy wet dream. 🪾 (cw: torture porn)

[multiverse]

( the stranger is wooden in the dream, his body holding the shape of a man but lined with bark down his chest, limbs the things of trees. parisa has taken what she has from his mind and donned herself in jedi robes, black flowing fabric folded over itself, legs peeking out through long slits in the robe with every step she takes forward, sauntering, seductive. it's a trap, to be a tree. trees have roots, are stuck in place — there's no quiver of capable motion once parisa lays her hands on his chest, thumbing over the knot of his nipple. he's stuck. her plaything. her thing.

it can be an argument over ownership of the dream. ultimately parisa wins, maintaining dominion. she isn't a cruel mistress — at least, not outright. her hands flatten on his arms, extended outward in prostration, like jesus on the cross. parisa's look is curious, amused, and full of an underlying, simmering rage. such a rare thing, this gift. she grins at him, lifting up on her toes to kiss his splintery mouth. )

I will kill you, my darling. ( she licks at his lips, if only just to prove she can. there's fruit sprouting on the stranger-tree, bright oranges with thin rinds. parisa plucks one, like plucking out an eye. ) Don't think I couldn't. But ... it would be a shame. I enjoy having fun with you.

( this is also, implicitly, not an apology. she sticks her thumb in the orange, like pressing into the soft spot of some vital organ — a finger in his heart, scooping out the pulp. split, she brings the halves up to her mouth and savagely sinks her teeth in, juice dripping down her chin, his meat in her mouth. )

So. ( fruit discarded to the floor, she steps back up to him, hanging off him, an arm around his neck, her mouth in his ear. ) Don't fuck with me, whoever you are. Nothing-man. My little empty.

( (it's less that he killed her, more that he made her corpse ugly before perishing. she plays for the rest of the night with him, snapping twigs like little bones, caressing his thick trunk until sap comes out. ) )