the balance of power is tipping slowly and there's no way you can stop it
the balance of power is tipping slowly and there's no way you can stop it
jasper/jane. r. 348.
Funny, isn't it, the way he used to be in charge.
He is a pawn and she is the dainty little queen with center-parted hair and pouting lips and an army that would fight to the death.
Funny, isn't it, the way he used to be in charge.
Sometimes the way she looks at him makes shivers run down his wrists, like an ice-cold shower raining down on granite bodies intertwined. The still-warm blood leftover on their skin drips down his fingertips and spirals down the drain.
Sometimes the utter satisfaction at his plight radiates from her skin (the sun shines brighter during the day when they don't exist) and bends through him, refracted in a thousand rays into the atmosphere.
More often, Jasper originates this feeling and Jane laughs at her pet's happiness.
It's hard to tell the difference between her moods, spiking like heart rates as your teeth sink down for the kill. Sinking like ships in oceans where no one expects death. The sea of her emotions shifts constantly and it's all he can do to stay afloat.
He's been around for years but she's been around for longer.
When he stares at her deep red eyes, pleading for mercy, he has more power than she does. She can inflict terrible pain with a thought, with a look, with a split second of indecision, with the gap between synapses, with love. But she's almost helpless (never completely, of course, not his Jane) at the sight of him at her feet.
You're not guilty if it's an accident.
He traces her body, artist's hands splayed wider than her thighs. Every moment is embedded in his memory, every second of a ticking clock separated in his mind.
His feelings don't define him. Not when they could be someone else's. Not when they're just fabricated chemical imbalances or hormonal fluctuations in a body without fluid.
No fluidity -- just rock made flesh, standing strong at the edge of the horizon, whispering, stay.
He vaguely remembers the touch of a tiny body so similar to this one, but when Jane smiles and he screams, it all goes away.
jasper/jane. r. 348.
Funny, isn't it, the way he used to be in charge.
He is a pawn and she is the dainty little queen with center-parted hair and pouting lips and an army that would fight to the death.
Funny, isn't it, the way he used to be in charge.
Sometimes the way she looks at him makes shivers run down his wrists, like an ice-cold shower raining down on granite bodies intertwined. The still-warm blood leftover on their skin drips down his fingertips and spirals down the drain.
Sometimes the utter satisfaction at his plight radiates from her skin (the sun shines brighter during the day when they don't exist) and bends through him, refracted in a thousand rays into the atmosphere.
More often, Jasper originates this feeling and Jane laughs at her pet's happiness.
It's hard to tell the difference between her moods, spiking like heart rates as your teeth sink down for the kill. Sinking like ships in oceans where no one expects death. The sea of her emotions shifts constantly and it's all he can do to stay afloat.
He's been around for years but she's been around for longer.
When he stares at her deep red eyes, pleading for mercy, he has more power than she does. She can inflict terrible pain with a thought, with a look, with a split second of indecision, with the gap between synapses, with love. But she's almost helpless (never completely, of course, not his Jane) at the sight of him at her feet.
You're not guilty if it's an accident.
He traces her body, artist's hands splayed wider than her thighs. Every moment is embedded in his memory, every second of a ticking clock separated in his mind.
His feelings don't define him. Not when they could be someone else's. Not when they're just fabricated chemical imbalances or hormonal fluctuations in a body without fluid.
No fluidity -- just rock made flesh, standing strong at the edge of the horizon, whispering, stay.
He vaguely remembers the touch of a tiny body so similar to this one, but when Jane smiles and he screams, it all goes away.