(no subject)
Title: Dollhouse
Author: mina_kat9
Theme/Set: 04 Dollhouse/CI
Rating: PG-13/T
Claim (+ additional character(s)): Alex Eames (w/ others)
Warning: This isn't explicit, but it is dark as all get out. Proceed no further if that bothers you.
Summary: Power(Note, I'm taking a decidedly AU approach for this claim. So don't freak. Or, do, 'cause it's pretty freaky, really.)
So much of it just wasn’t real. No one owns that many cars. Ok, Jay Leno, but no one real. Gleaming metal body after gleaming metal body lined up for her to admire. And admire them she did. Fantasy cars. Elegant antiques. Classics that would make her father proud.
If he could get past who owned it. Which he could never.
As a child she’d dreamed of a car like that Charger. Black, sleek and powerful. Even at eight, nine, ten she could feel the thrum of that kind of power between her legs. And now just being near it made her skin tingle.
It took power to make the kind of money needed to own a stable of cars like that. Not to mention the house attached to it. Or the clothes he seemed to enjoy dressing her in. And taking her out of. More accurately, she supposed, the clothes he made her take off. Power.
It took power to survive what he had and go on. That it had bent him…or perhaps he’d always been this way. No way to know. And no matter now. All that mattered now was how he used the power he had. And how she used her power.
She must never let herself forget that despite the animal strength that radiated off him, she had her own power. Her body was strong-she worked at keeping it that way. Her mind was strong-she worked at keeping THAT that way, too. Just being in his line of sight kept her mind sharp. Her spirit was strong-she saw that every time she was with him.
Every time she thought he’d found the combination that would take her mind, send her over the edge into mindless passion and need, she came back demanding more. No man had ever asked anything resembling what he did. No man had ever used her body the way he did. No one.
A pinch accidentally too hard that made her shiver. A partner caught up in the moment thrusting too roughly who brought her over the edge, surprising her with the force of it. The one drunken scramble that had left her with a bruised hip and him wondering who the wild cat he’d picked up was. Aberrations, she’d thought.
Her power.
The cars were beautiful, but they were not his power, anymore than the house or the apartment or her clothes were. They were toys in a beautiful dollhouse, there to play with. His power was deep within him, a primal force that called to her in ways she still didn’t understand. Her power was deep within her and just as primal as his. It kept her alive on the streets. And in his bed.
He talked of owning her. She would never own him. You couldn’t own a wild animal. She might affect him, touch him, but he would never be hers. If she gave in to him, let him own her, she would become nothing more than a pretty doll in his enormous dollhouse. And all her power would be gone.
If that happened, she hoped he would tire of her and kill her quickly. It was no way to live.
Table thingie
Author: mina_kat9
Theme/Set: 04 Dollhouse/CI
Rating: PG-13/T
Claim (+ additional character(s)): Alex Eames (w/ others)
Warning: This isn't explicit, but it is dark as all get out. Proceed no further if that bothers you.
Summary: Power(Note, I'm taking a decidedly AU approach for this claim. So don't freak. Or, do, 'cause it's pretty freaky, really.)
So much of it just wasn’t real. No one owns that many cars. Ok, Jay Leno, but no one real. Gleaming metal body after gleaming metal body lined up for her to admire. And admire them she did. Fantasy cars. Elegant antiques. Classics that would make her father proud.
If he could get past who owned it. Which he could never.
As a child she’d dreamed of a car like that Charger. Black, sleek and powerful. Even at eight, nine, ten she could feel the thrum of that kind of power between her legs. And now just being near it made her skin tingle.
It took power to make the kind of money needed to own a stable of cars like that. Not to mention the house attached to it. Or the clothes he seemed to enjoy dressing her in. And taking her out of. More accurately, she supposed, the clothes he made her take off. Power.
It took power to survive what he had and go on. That it had bent him…or perhaps he’d always been this way. No way to know. And no matter now. All that mattered now was how he used the power he had. And how she used her power.
She must never let herself forget that despite the animal strength that radiated off him, she had her own power. Her body was strong-she worked at keeping it that way. Her mind was strong-she worked at keeping THAT that way, too. Just being in his line of sight kept her mind sharp. Her spirit was strong-she saw that every time she was with him.
Every time she thought he’d found the combination that would take her mind, send her over the edge into mindless passion and need, she came back demanding more. No man had ever asked anything resembling what he did. No man had ever used her body the way he did. No one.
A pinch accidentally too hard that made her shiver. A partner caught up in the moment thrusting too roughly who brought her over the edge, surprising her with the force of it. The one drunken scramble that had left her with a bruised hip and him wondering who the wild cat he’d picked up was. Aberrations, she’d thought.
Her power.
The cars were beautiful, but they were not his power, anymore than the house or the apartment or her clothes were. They were toys in a beautiful dollhouse, there to play with. His power was deep within him, a primal force that called to her in ways she still didn’t understand. Her power was deep within her and just as primal as his. It kept her alive on the streets. And in his bed.
He talked of owning her. She would never own him. You couldn’t own a wild animal. She might affect him, touch him, but he would never be hers. If she gave in to him, let him own her, she would become nothing more than a pretty doll in his enormous dollhouse. And all her power would be gone.
If that happened, she hoped he would tire of her and kill her quickly. It was no way to live.
Table thingie