. f o r e s a k e n .

darkinnocent — Sat, 26 Jun 2010 17:38:59 GMT

Oh man, it's been... too long. Although I've stayed in the shadows and read fanfiction constantly, I haven't written anything myself since October 2008. I haven't written any Spawn since -oh my god- March 2008. Well, I've been leading a very crazy and busy life- I'm in my senior year of college studying as a BFA Theatre major so that hopeful, maybe someday, I can act along side the lovely Ms. Trachtenberg or the mouthwatering Mr. Marsters (I met him in June last year, guh. Just as gorgeous in person).

Anyway, I jotted this down the other night. I have no idea if it's any good, but I figured that I would share it because I do miss you guys and I miss writing. So here is my offering. I hope everything is well with you all.

♥ Claire

Title: Reading Between the Lines
Author: darkinnocent
Fandom: Buffy: the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Spike/Dawn
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All belongs to a man named Joss.
Time: Takes place in the middle of Season 6 episode Seeing Red and departs slightly from canon.
Summary: A second look at what was really being said in the Spike/Dawn scene in Seeing Red.

Reading Between the Lines

He should have known. It was always this way with him, he completely forgot to look the gift horse in the mouth. He just thought he had her. Thought she was his girl. But he was just her toy. Even after being exposed, she still wouldn't accept him into her life. She wouldn't allow him to mix together.

Kind of like blood and alcohol. The blood was supposed to be hot but it was cold. The liquor was supposed to be cold but it was room temperature. Still, when he mixed it and sipped it down, the burn from the alcohol almost made him believe he was drinking the blood of something truly powerful instead of a butchered animal. He could pretend, for a little while, that he was himself again. But it was just a bloody illusion. Literally.

"Does it help?"

Had he been a lesser vamp, he would have jumped. Since when did Dawn get good at sneaking up on people? Last he recalled, she was all teenager- gawky limbs and awkward shifting.

"Doesn't hurt," he replied.

When he looked over his shoulder at her, he barely recognized her. Sure, she has the facade of a teenager girl on, and even now, as she shifted he could see the echo of the child she had been. But when her eyes met his head on without fear or judgement, he saw the woman she was to become. She was right in between, not night or day. She was dawn.

He smirked to himself- he must be drunker than he thought. He glanced up and noticed that he had been quiet for too long.

"Not planning a camp-out, are we?" he asked, glancing at the bag in her hand.

Dawn shakes her head. "No. I'm sleeping over Janice's. Figure Willow and Tara might want some time to, um..."

The blush on her cheek is telling. Even after her wild activity on Halloween, his girl was all purity deep down. He found himself wondering how untouched she really was. Glad that she was going to a friends house. Jealous because someone else had kissed her first.

"Oh, so the birds are flying again, eh? Ain't love grand."

Even he could hear how bitter he was. He couldn't even hide his emotions anymore. He was the big bad and here he was, sulking, because two witches were going at it and he was alone. There was a time when having a bed mate wouldn't have been a question- he was more concerned with when, where, and how many. God, he was pathetic. He collapsed into his chair, too embarrassed to even meet Dawn's gaze.

"I wanted to stop by on my way and, you know..."

He could feel her trying to get him to meet her gaze. He hated that she still cared about him because it made him feel human in the worst of ways. He felt guilty because he had promised to protect her and here she was, stopping by to make sure that he was okay.

"Everybody's pretty mad at you," she finished, shifting closer to him.

"Yeah. Kinda picked up on that." Was she mad at him too?

And then the unexpected happened.

"You're not going to be coming around anymore, are you?"

She sounded so heart broken. Had he really forgotten how much this girl had depended on him during the summer? How she had kept him from meeting the sun countless times, had managed to make him laugh, and tolerated his mood swings? Had he forgotten how she had fit in his arms the many times he had to hold her in her sleep to keep away her nightmares, how he kept her eating and eventually even functioning somewhat normally? How he and Dawn would find each other at night, staring into Buffy's bedroom and wordlessly hold hands until the sun came up?

He had forgotten her. So wrapped up in blonde hair and slayer blood- so wrapped up in trying to force a woman to love him when a girl had all ready placed all her trust in him.

"It's... complicated, Nibblet."

She laughed. Now she was the one who was bitter. He could sense the anger coming off of her.

"Everybody's been saying that," she bit off, clearly displeased.

"Must be true then," he muttered into his glass.

He didn't think complicated even summed up the emotional whirlpool he had just stumbled upon, wave after wave of forgotten and repressed memories crashing into him and drowning him in his own guilt and self-disgust. Maybe if she left he could make it stop.

"Was it worth it? What you did with Anya?"

He nearly spit his drink out. He almost forgot that he taught the Bit how to play poker and how, surprisingly, for a girl who lies as well as her sister, she had an excellent poker face. She had played him now as she had played him dozens of times. Start off with a bang, show the soft of her belly and those innocent baby blues, and then she would mercilessly seize him by the balls with an ace in the hole.

"Buffy told you?" he sputtered, eyes meeting hers.

Again, she blushed. "Kinda caught the show. There was a camera somewhere in the Magic Box. Warren and Jonathan and... that other guy have been watching Buffy."

"Wankers!"

Now as he observed the blush coloring her cheeks, he couldn't help but wonder what she had been thinking as she saw him fuck Anya. But the blush cleared and a steel came into her eyes that he was familiar with. It was the same look that she had when she told Giles that they had to move Buffy's body. When she had grabbed him by the collar of his duster and yelled at him to get into the fucking building now before the sun decided to turn him to ash and took another person away from her.

She moved closer to him and god help him, he couldn't meet her gaze again.

"Do you love her?" she asked quietly. The pain that rolled off of her made his stomach clench.

"Oh no. No," he comforted, using the voice he knew she liked. "It was just a... It was a bad day. For both of us. And we just had a few drinks and, things just-"

"No," Dawn interrupted, surprising him for the second time that evening. "Not Anya."

His eyes snapped to her face to try to decipher her meaning, but she refused to meet his gaze. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes and her determination not to let any fall.

"Do you really love her?" her chin was trembling slightly and he could hear her voice getting choked up.

And then she looked at him and he felt like a downright selfish bastard because all the pain he thought he had been feeling up to now was being reflected right back at him but he hadn't a clue it even existed until this point. At least Buffy had known how he felt. Sure, she had decided to use that to her advantage and amusement, but she had known. Spike wondered how long Dawn had been sitting in silence and loving him, waiting for him to see her as he stared at Buffy and wondered the same thing.

"Dawn..." he whispered.

"Then how could you do that to her?" A tear slipped down her face and he found himself rising, standing before her.

"How could you?" she accused.

His hand reached out to... he didn't know. Pull her into an embrace, wipe her tears away, cup her cheek. To touch her in anyway to let her know that he did care. But she pushed him away, just like Buffy did.

Anger unfurled in his stomach and he found himself snarling her name.

She met his gaze unflinchingly. "I don't know what happened between you two. But what you did last night..."

She cocked her head at him and raised an eyebrow in a look that he knew mirrored his own too well. "If you wanted to hurt her, congratulations. It worked."

He could sense her urge to leave, could see that whatever strength she had pulled from to deliver that final killing blow was crumbling fast and leaving her with no resolve. As she turned away from him, he saw another tear falling down her face. Too fast for her to stop him, he moved so that he was blocking her way and pulled her into his arms.

Immediately she was fighting him, desperately squirming and throwing out punches that were poorly aimed and had all the strength in the world behind them. He could hear her when she started to cry in earnest and he tightened his hold on her. Suddenly her hands stopped hitting him and instead she curled her fists in his shirt and held him firmly against her. She was love's bitch, just like him. Fire would burn her again and again, but she would go back and beg for more.

Finally she had cried herself out and he was able to scoop her up easily. She was lighter than air and he almost walloped himself when he realized just how poorly his girl had been taken care of. He sat back down in the armchair with the Nibblet curled tightly in his lap.

"I'm so sorry, Bit," he breathed into her hair.

"I hate her," she whimpered, her fists tightening.

He shook his head, kissing her hairline. "No you don't, baby."

"I do. I hate her because I love her so much even after what she's done to me and to you. To all of us. She just... uses people up. She wants our love only when it's okay for her and when she doesn't, we may as well not exist. I kept waiting for her to come back to me, to let me in the way she did after mom died. I would dream night after night that she would return to us, but I didn't realize it would be this."

"A nightmare," Spike finished.

The feelings she spoke of matched his so closely he ached. As he gazed down at the girl who was barely still a girl, he wondered why it had never occurred to him to place his affections on the younger Summers. She was more his type- pale skin, dark hair, fragile with an uncontrollable power trapped inside. Incredibly strong, fierce and fiery and yet so easy to break. And he was the one breaking her.

"Make it stop, Spike. Make these feelings stop. Tell me how to make it stop."

She wasn't talking about Buffy.

He looked at her. "I don't know how, Dawn."

Slowly, she pulled away from him. He let her slide from his arms and into a standing position. But she didn't walk away like he expected. Instead, she took his hand in hers and smiled softly at him.

"You know, I've had trouble sleeping ever since this summer. I guess I got so used to you squishing into my bed with me that it felt too big without you," she laughed a little at herself and looked away.

"Please make the nightmares go away. Just for tonight," she whispered. "Let me pretend just this once that I'm your girl."

He thought about denying her, but the words died on his lips. How could he deny her when he had begged for the same thing a thousand times from Buffy, hoping that the make pretend would turn into something real.

He stood and he saw her flinch, expecting a rejection. Made him feel all the more like a bastard for considering it.

He cupped her jaw and tilted her face to meet his. "You've always been my girl."

His lips swept against hers feather-light before he led her downstairs. He tucked her tightly into his bed before tucking her even tighter into his arms. She snuggled into him, her body fitting against his just so.

They laid together in silence for a while and he could feel her body slowly relax against him. He had almost forgotten how peaceful this was, how easy it was for him to be lulled into his own sleep by her soft heartbeat. Buffy didn't like to be held- she rarely slept beside him and when she did, she slept as far away as she could without falling off whatever surface she was on. Her body never fully relaxed and a wrinkle persisted even as she slept, just between her eyes. Dawn's face was the picture of serenity and even if he closed his eyes and tried to convince himself that somehow this long-limbed nymph in his arms was the solid and strong Amazon he craved, the scent of the sun that just clung to Dawn's skin would give it away. Buffy was all vanilla and honey- but Dawn smelled like her namesake. With her in his arms, he could remember what the sun felt like before it burned him. He breathed her in and bathed in her warmth- this was Dawn.

Before he knew what he was doing, he had mouthed a few words into her ear, glad that he had enough sense not to voice them.

But she must have felt them being pressed into her heart because she sleepily replied,

"I love you too."

When she woke up, he would be gone. She would hate him again, he knew, but this was something he had to do. If he stayed in Sunnydale, the cycle would continue on until one or all of them did something that they would regret. So he would leave. He would become a better man.

Not because she asked him to. But because he had to.

For her.

.end.

darkinnocent — Thu, 01 Jan 2009 07:09:07 GMT

.books read in 2008.

KEY:
+ Books I Own
* Books I Recommend Highly
! Books I Need to Buy

01. Rachel's Tears by Beth Nimmo and Darrel Scott
02. Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife by Mary Roach
03. Twilight by Stephenie Meyer+* (Honorable Mentions, Best Book of 2008)
04. Uglies by Scott Westerfeld*! (BEST SERIES 2008)
05. Pretties by Scott Westerfeld*!
06. Specials by Scott Westerfeld*!
07. Tartuffe by Moliere+
08. Gulliver's Travels by Johnathon Swift+
09. Frankenstein by Mary Shelly+*
10. Hedda Gabler by Henrick Ibsen+
11. The Death of Ivan Illych by Leo Tolstoy+
12. The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka+*
13. Six Character's in Search of An Author by Luigi Pirandello+
14. The Other Boleyn Girl by Phillipa Gregory+*
15. Skin by Adrienne Maria Vrettos
16. The Passion of Alice by Stephanie Grant*
17. Girls Under Pressure by Jacqueline Wilson
18. Hunger Point by Jillian Medoff*
19. The Hanged Man by Francesca Lia Block
20. New Moon by Stephenie Meyer*!
21. The Best Little Girl in the World by Steven Levenkron
22. The Diary of an Anorexic Girl by Morgan Menzie
23. Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia by Marya Hornbacher****!!!!! (BEST BOOK OF 2008)
24. Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer*!
25. Stick Figure by Lori Gottlieb*!
26. My Sister's Bones bt Cathi Hanauer
27. Second Star to the Right by Debra Hautzig
28. Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser+* (Modern Day The Jungle)
29. A Practical Handbook for the Actor by Melissa Bruder, etc+*
30. I Am Montana by Samuel D. Hunter+*
31. Bug by Tracey Letts+* (5th Place, Best Book of 2008)
32. Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller*
33. Blasted by Sarah Kane
34. Phaedra's Love by Sarah Kane
35. Myron: A Fairytale in Black and White by Michael Keams
36. Take Me Out by Richard Greenberg+
37. The Shape of Things by Neil Labute (3rd Place, Best Book of 2008)+*
38. Zoo Story by Edward Albee (Tie for 4th Place, Best Book of 2008)+*
39. Eurydice by Sarah Ruhl (Tie for 4th Place, Best Book of 2008)+*
40. Backwards and Forwards: A Technical Manual for Reading Plays by David Ball+*
41. The Empty Space: A Book about Theatre: Deadly, Holy, Rough, Immediate by Peter Brooks+*
42. Orange Flower Water by Craig Wright
43. War in Paramus by Barbara Dana
44. Pet Semetery by Stephen King+* (2nd Place, Best Book of 2008)
45. 3 Uses of the Knife by David Mamet*!

ALMOST made it. Hopefully, I'll get to 50 this year.

darkinnocent — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 06:38:36 GMT

Title: Where They Originally Came Apart
Author: Claire Starling
Gift for: milly for the "Stick it to Kring" Sylaire ficathon at the sylar_claire community. Hope you like it!
Fandom: Heroes, spoilers up until 3.04 "I Am Become Death."
Pairing: Sylar/Claire
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character death
Disclaimer: All belongs to Kring.

Where They Originally Came Apart

Claire disappeared off the map. Months passed without word of her location or status, and even Angela Petrelli became nervous when the Company psychic was unable to locate her granddaughter.

At first, Sylar was only faintly amused by the stir the missing cheerleader had caused. But as more and more company members were deployed and returned unsuccessful in their attempts, Sylar soon found he was once again obsessed with the only victim that had ever survived an encounter with him. Noah was suspicious of Sylar's growing interest in finding his daughter, but he could no longer deny Sylar's ability to help.

Attention was turned away from her briefly when word was out that the two halves of the formula had been united and Adam Monroe had been dug out of his eternal entrapment. As Noah and Sylar raced across the globe to stop all hell from breaking loose, they found that they were too late.

Sitting on Monroe's desk was the elusive Claire Bennet, calmly reading Machivelli's The Prince as though the bodies of three wanted felons weren't cooling by her feet.

After Claire's disappearance, several former company members had turned up dead. Incinerated corpses were discovered, with the local police force finding no evidence of arson. Their reasoning? All the victims had died of suffocation. All sources of the fire were natural and accidental. The cops found no connection in the cases, considering the bodies were scattered all across the globe and the Company were the only ones who knew that they were working for the same employer. Only Meredith felt unease about the whole situation when it came to Claire. After confiding in Noah about the way she forced a confession out of her, he wasn't as shocked to find his daughter tapping the ashes from her cigarette onto Knox's beheaded corpse.

Forced to take her into custody, Claire just raised her eyebrow and allowed her father to handcuff her and usher her into the very cells he had avoided placing her in since her birth.

Sylar found himself in front of her cage more often than he would like to admit. He was invisible to the human eye, but sometimes he could swear that she knew he was there. She lounged around the cell as if she owned the joint, as if she could simply walk out anytime she wanted. Her father's questions were met with taunts and psychological mind fuckary that even he didn't think he was capable of.

When he had originally let Bennet live, he had done so as a form of revenge. A new game to be played. An act of whimsy that he may come to regret one day if little Claire-Bear actually grew claws but now, he wasn't so sure. He was right, after all. She was special, different. She would never die. But that wasn't what made her different from all the others, what had intrigued him enough to let her live instead of separating her head from her shoulders for Daddy Dearest to find.

Everyone was so predictable, they're behavioral patterns were so easy for him to follow. But Claire... Claire was a wild card. She broke her own pattern and refused to be fixed.

One of the few things that Gabriel Gray and Sylar had in common was that they both detested surprises. But Claire's unpredictability was a drug he didn't remember taking, but one he was undoubtedly addicted to. He couldn't fix her. And after a while, he started wondering if maybe she wasn't broken at all. Maybe the only way she could function was if she was broken. To her, broken was fixed.

Claire was a paradox. Leave it at that.

Couldn't keep his mind off of her, no matter what he did. He tried out eating her out killing her out drinking her out fucking her burning this motherfucker down to the ground and still he could see that half smile of hers (she had taken what was his and made it hers), taste her blood on the air (their dying breathes mingling in the heat, but only she would live if he didn't move fast enough because she was still stronger than him), smell her sweat (she was running away, but he would catch her, pin her beneath him and make her scream only that's not quite what happened), feel her trembling against him (in fear and pain although now he wishes it were pleasure), and hear the way her mocking laughter had pierced the tense silence between them the last time she'd laid eyes on him (since when was she the villain and he the hero?).

Sleep evaded him, poison seeping in. He was her uncle. He was always evil, always wrong, but he had never done something so... dirty. He'd attempted to kill a little girl for her power and never blinked an eyelash but found himself restless for nights after he couldn't stop himself from watching Claire masturbate in her cell, whispering what may have been his name under her breath but he may have been hallucinating at that point because his cock was in his hand and he was nearly blue from holding his breath so she didn't hear his grunts of pleasure.

He spent a week away from her cell to punish himself, but only made it three days before he made some excuse to walk by. And then he was there, captivated by her casually flipping through a chemistry textbook. He found it amusing that although her entire family agreed on her incarceration, they still made sure she kept up with her homework and ate all her vegetables like the good little cheerleader she wasn't anymore. Claire smiled secretly at them and did as they asked. He knew she was just biding her time but he could figure out what she was waiting for.

"I know you're there," she said without looking up at him.

When he didn't immediately show himself, a slow smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She shook her head at his defiance and finished her paragraph before speaking.

"There is evil because without it there is no good. Without the contrast, we'd be walking around like ungrateful bumbling idiots because we wouldn't know what the beauty of Eden was without the pain of reality."

Sylar froze. She was answering his questions, the ones he had tauntingly asked her as he dissected her mind. He came closer to the window of her cell.

She looked up. Her gaze didn't meet his, but she was looking within the vicinity of him. She wasn't sure exactly where he was standing, but she knew he was close.

"Who cares how many angels can dance on the head of a pin? What I want to know is... what music are they listening to?"

She closed her book and got off the bed. Approaching the window, she placed her hand on the glass.

"I can show you how to make love," she whispered, her pause deliberate, "stay."

He bled into her vision, his hand against hers- mere glass separating them. She swore she could feel his warmth as she trapped his gaze, black as hers.

"Why love if losing hurts so much? We love to know we're not alone," she finished. Her eyes pierced into him. "You don't have to be alone."

"We're-," he started.

"Related?" She smirked at him, tilting her head. "You going to believe everything that you hear? Their words... they are just noises. Angela is trying so hard to control us but she can't. They may have the genetics, Sylar, but we are so much more. The rules don't apply to people like us. We are different. Special."

"What are you saying?" he breathed, confusion coloring his gaze.

Claire looked away, pulled away, walked away. She had a staring contest with the ground for a few moments, tongue at the corner of her lips as she tried to figure out the right way to word this.

"I was free, away from all this. But no matter where I went, I could hear you. Your words... they are like music to me. You helped me find my demon, Sylar. You helped me understand my power. What it really meant. Who I really am."

Her gaze met his. "In a thousand years, the world will have changed but we won't. We'll still be standing while the skeletons of those around us now are turning to ash. The world will fall down around us and rebuild and collapse and rebuild, and through it all we will remain."

Sylar started to notice that the Claire he had cornered in her home, the Claire he had hunted and chased, wasn't as dead as he thought. She had simply grown up. Radically.

"I don't feel pain anymore, Sylar. And without it, how can I know what pleasure is? I am so afraid of living the rest of my life and never feeling a thing. I killed those people not just because of what they had done, but because I needed the guilt. The regret. It's the only kind of pain I can feel."

"Claire... what happened?" he asked.

He was peering inside of her and a buzz at the back of his head made him wonder if this had anything to do with the fact that she didn't make sense anymore, that he couldn't fix her, she wasn't fixable. Before he knew what he was doing, he was inside her cell, watching from the doorway as she simply eyed him.

"I'm not... who you think I am. I'm Claire- but not. Peter came back trying to change the future, make it a better a world to live in. But he's thinking too big- he always thinks the problem stems from one choice, one decision, one place. He thinks that big decisions that a few people make change the world. But it's little choices. It's everyone. It's everything."

Sylar's eyes widened in understanding, everything clicked into place with a sigh. "You're from the future."

Her eyes met his and he was startled by how dead they were. A million ghosts stood behind her and he wondered if this was how he had looked to his victims before they died.

"I was," she whispered. "She... Me- she came to me. Took over. But she didn't do it to control me; she did it to show me. What I become. What happens to the world."

"So why aren't you asking Peter for help? You two seem to be in love with the martyr concept," Sylar remarked sarcastically.

"Because I can't change the future, Sylar!" Claire snapped, suddenly in his face. "I can't stop it. I can't balance out good and evil by myself, can't stop the world from losing control because everything is morally gray!"

The fire in her eyes made him smile. There was the Claire Bennet he was used to. To his surprise, she took a deep calming breath.

"I can't let this happen to me, Sylar. To any of us. I am willing to risk everything that I gain in the future. Power. Strength. My son." She choked on the last bit, turning away from him. Sylar's eyebrow rose in question but she did not elaborate.

"I can't change the future," she repeated softly. "But I can change the present."

Determined, she looked into his eyes. "I know what they want from you. They want you to change. To reform. They tell you that you aren't a bad dog but you are. That hunger wasn't borne for no reason, Sylar. That need... it never goes away. It will never go away. The world will keep growing. You'll feed it. But it doesn't feed you. And it won't take much to make you snap."

"Claire..." Sylar whispered. Not sure why their situations were suddenly reversed. Why he felt tempted and seduced and scared. Why was he the victim? He wasn't in control. He wanted to scream- he couldn't breathe.

"You want forgiveness. You've asked me for it. But I think what you want isn't what you need," her voice was a siren song and she was pressed against him and damn that company bitch because he could feel everything she had felt, feel where she had been, her journey across the world to end here with him.

She was on tiptoe, her arm wrapped around his neck and her lips brushing against his ear.

"I wanted you to let me go. Begged you to. But you didn't. You gave me what I needed instead: strength, truth, power. You woke me up. Made me understand that it isn't what the world wants that is important, but what it needs. Made me realize what I have to do. What we have to do."

"And what do we have to do, Claire?" he asked. He turned his head, stubble grazing her cheek and she let out a soft moan.

All he could see were her eyes, blue and mischievous, his own nymph. All he could feel is her body pressed against him. Her lips so close that when she smiled they whispered against his, a promise of the kisses to come.

"We have to be villains, Sylar."

.end.

darkinnocent — Wed, 01 Oct 2008 21:42:51 GMT

There is no way for me to apologize for this… This is crack!fic on crack. And possibly steroids.

Title: Aim Confidential Redux
Author: Claire Starling
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Complete and utter crack!fic. Some swearing. Innuendo galore. And Maya! And Peter!bashing
Disclaimer: Mr. Kring, I am truly sorry I soiled your characters this way.
Pairing: Sylaire. Other pairings mentioned in passing.
Summary: Right. So after 3x02, Sylar gets hold of a computer and decides to message Claire.

AIM Confidential Redux

braineater: Hello, Claire.

shortbutsweet: who is this?

braineater: You honestly don't know? Think about it.

shortbutsweet: if I knew, I wouldn't be asking.

braineater: Look at the screenname, Bennet, it's a tribute to you.

shortbutsweet: SYLAR?!?!

braineater: Got it in one.

shortbutsweet: You've got to be fucking kidding me.

shortbutsweet: Sylar goes on AIM during his spare time? Yeah, that totally goes with your badass status.

shortbutsweet: That was sarcasm, just so you know.

braineater: What? I can't own a computer? It's 2008, what self-respecting person doesn't own a computer?

braineater: And the screenname is new.

braineater: And I am so bad ass. I killed Peter. Twice.

shortbutsweet: *snort* riiiiiiiiight.

shortbutsweet: Only to get killed by a die-hard Star Trek fan. Don't go bragging about it now.

braineater: Hey!

braineater: I was almost killed by a die-hard Star Trek fan.

shortbutsweet: Even you know how lame that sounded.

braineater: At least I don't have a crush on my uncle.

shortbutsweet: *blush* That was totally before I knew he was my uncle.

braineater: Uh-huh.

shortbutsweet: At least I don't have a man-crush on Mohinder.

braineater: ...

braineater: No.

shortbutsweet: That took you a good five minutes to deny.

braineater: It did not!

shortbutsweet: There are timestamps on the conversation!!!

braineater: So!

braineater: I totally do not have a crush on Mohinder.

shortbutsweet: Right, so you guys weren't having surprise!buttsex on the ceiling of Mohinder's apartment when Peter came in.

braineater: No. We were having oral sex.

shortbutsweet: *blink*

shortbutsweet: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

braineater: STFU!

braineater: It was a one time thing!

shortbutsweet: Aw, he didn't call you back?

braineater: No, he was a bad lay.

shortbutsweet: So Maya tells me.

braineater: WHAT?!?!

shortbutsweet: Word travels fast.

braineater: But-but... she was supposed to be a nun!

shortbutsweet: You're telling me that you never got it on with One-Minute-Maya?

shortbutsweet: ...

shortbutsweet: She stayed with Mohinder for less than a week and he had her in the sack. How long were you with her?!?!

braineater: but-but-but

shortbutsweet: Yeah, you're bad.

braineater: We TOTALLY kissed. And it was sexual and stuff. It was like mouth sex. With tongues and lips and stuff.

shortbutsweet: Ew.

braineater: Tell me about it. You weren't even the one kissing her.

braineater: I think she was trying to strangle me with her tongue.

shortbutsweet: Ew.

braineater: She almost succeeded.

shortbutsweet: EW! Stopping with the description now.

braineater: Sorry.

braineater: No wait. No, I'm not.

braineater: I'm a villain.

braineater: MUAHAHAHA!

shortbutsweet: You succeeded in making a teenage girl nauseous. You bad man, you.

braineater: Shut up.

braineater: I'm bad!

braineater: I'm evil.

braineater: *pout*

shortbutsweet: Sure you are, Sy.

shortbutsweet: So why did you IM me?

braineater: Well...

braineater: ... I thought there was something between us the last time we met.

shortbutsweet: Yeah. My brain.

braineater: Well, yes. But I mean, I thought there was some chemistry. Claire.

shortbutsweet: *laughs*

braineater: What's so funny?

shortbutsweet: You're hilarious.

braineater: I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner sometime.

shortbutsweet: Wait a minute.

shortbutsweet: You're serious?!?!

braineater: Do I look like someone who makes jokes on a regular basis?

shortbutsweet: Well-

braineater: That are funny to anyone besides a psychopathic killer?

shortbutsweet: ...

shortbutsweet: Oh. my. god.

shortbutsweet: You are serious.

shortbutsweet: *blink*

braineater: Is that a yes?

shortbutsweet: But... you cut open my head.

braineater: That's not a no.

shortbutsweet: But you cut open my head.

braineater: Right. Pick you up at 8?

shortbutsweet: But. You. CUT. OPEN. MY. HEAD.

braineater: I don’t know why you’re acting so sensitive about this. I put it back on!

shortbutsweet: That's like Hannibal Lecter asking Paul Krendler out on a date.

braineater: Claire, that's preposterous. Those are fictional characters.

shortbutsweet: *blink*

shortbutsweet: riiiiiiight.

braineater: So, Friday at 8? You can tell your parents you're going out with Peter Pan.

shortbutsweet: West? Ew, so last season.

braineater: So tell her you're going out with one of your cheerleading girlfriends. Having a sleep over. With scanty pajamas and pillow fights that dissolve into gentle but passionate kissing and exploration.

braineater: Can I watch?

shortbutsweet: ...

shortbutsweet: Dude, you just asked if you could watch an event that you MADE UP.

braineater: IF IT EVER HAPPENS, CAN I WATCH?

shortbutsweet: um- sure. whatever.

braineater: I'm totally going to brag about this to Peter.

braineater: He can't watch, right?

shortbutsweet: What's with my uncles hitting on me in a not-at-all subtle way?

braineater: Have you seen the way Nathan and Peter act around each other?

braineater: Believe me, in comparison, Peter is being subtle.

shortbutsweet: True.

shortbutsweet: But yeah. Not really into incest. That would be the males in my family tree apparently.

braineater: I'm not your uncle.

shortbutsweet: But Angela said you were.

braineater: Oh come on, we all know she's bullshitting me just so that she can manipulate me into doing what she wants only I'm going to be the one that ends up manipulating her.

shortbutsweet: Huh?

braineater: Exactly.

braineater: So, Friday at 8?

shortbutsweet: Two conditions.

braineater: *sigh* What is it?

shortbutsweet: I will sustain no injuries.

braineater: WHAT?! That is not fair! You jumped off the Hollywood sign with the Nathan rip-off and you didn't even like him!

braineater: And point to you being into incest, because you were dating a kid with the same power as your father.

shortbutsweet: Wait, so now I'm not allowed to date any kids who have the same powers as my relatives because that's "incestuous"?

shortbutsweet: That's like saying dating someone who has the same job as your parents is dirty.

braineater: No, it's not dirty.

braineater: It's wrong.

braineater: But in that hot way.

braineater: Think you could wear the cheerleader outfit?

shortbutsweet: That would be condition number two. No cheerleader outfit, no “I'm straight out of a porno stereotype, let me suck your cock” get up or I swear to you, I will find you and beat you with your own leg.

braineater: Way to turn me on, Claire-bear.

shortbutsweet: You're sick.

shortbutsweet: And don't call me that.

shortbutsweet: ...

shortbutsweet: Did that really turn you on?

braineater: Maybe.

braineater: You'll have to go out with me on Friday to find out.

shortbutsweet: All right.

shortbutsweet: But I pick the restaurant.

shortbutsweet: And you pay.

braineater: I promise you won't have to pay for it.

shortbutsweet: No killing the waiter.

shortbutsweet: Or the host.

shortbutsweet: Or the bus boys.

shortbutsweet: Or the chef.

braineater: You spoil all my fun, Bennet.

braineater: What if they're really slow?

shortbutsweet: Only if it takes them over 15 minutes to bring us the food.

braineater: Deal.

braineater: I've got to go. Need to take a hot shower to wash all the dried blood off.

shortbutsweet: Naked?

braineater: Do you normally take showers with your clothes on?

shortbutsweet: You. Naked. In the Shower. With the Washing.

braineater: Yeah...

shortbutsweet: That's kind of hot.

braineater: Really?

shortbutsweet: Maybe. ;)

braineater: See you on Friday then, dollface?

shortbutsweet: See you then.

braineater: And Claire?

shortbutsweet: Yeah?

braineater: I am so badass.

darkinnocent — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 23:26:48 GMT

I want to finish my Spawn fiction so badly, but my muse runs off of the enthusiasm I get from others fics. Lately, the Dawn/Spike scene has been so... dead (no pun intended).

I miss RPGing, a lot.

I miss LJ a lot.

RL sucks.

Can I crawl inside my computer instead?

darkinnocent — Mon, 14 Apr 2008 15:31:29 GMT

.small update.

My hiatus will soon be coming to a close, things are starting to simmer down in the "real world." My muse has been stirring lately, so maybe there will be something to come out of all of this. I have missed you all, but I have been glad for the time to be able to focus on catching up on what others have been doing and not having the pressure of posting myself.

On another note, I've been nominated at the sylaire_awards for two fanfics, Natural Selection (Best Mature Fic) and AIM Confidential (Best Comedy/Humor Fic). There are so many good nominees, I definitely recommend any Sylaire fan to go over there and vote. Good luck to everyone who was nominated! I'm really looking forward to seeing the results!

darkinnocent — Fri, 04 Apr 2008 18:40:48 GMT

. h i a t u s .

I think a couple of people saw this coming...

To all my friends: I'm sorry I've been so distant lately. I am in a chapter in my life where existence outside the internet is so stressful that I cannot even relax via the internet. I don't know how long this hiatus will last, a few days or a few weeks, but I will try to comment once in a while and attempt to update my RPGs a couple of times. I am so sorry for the people who I've ignored and threads I've avoided, it isn't anything against you. I'm hitting a rough patch right now, even distractions aren't good enough of a pain reliever.

If anyone posts something that they would like me to read or comment on, or need me for anything, please feel free to reply to this post or contact me as you see fit.

Hopefully this will be over and done with soon.

love you all. god bless.

your friend,
c l a i r e

darkinnocent — Mon, 24 Mar 2008 04:30:49 GMT

Title: Touching Reality
Author: darkinnocent
Gift for: snowpuppies for Spawn ficathon
Fandom: Buffy: the Vampire Slayer & Angel
Pairing: Spike/Dawn
Rating: NC-17 (if you squint)
Warnings: Masturbation, voyeurism, sodomy, s&m themes, naughty language... you get the drift.
Disclaimer: All belongs to a man named Joss.
Time: Post Chosen (B:tVS), pre Destiny (Angel)

What sort of fics/art you'd like to receive: S6-7 friendship, the way it should have been. or post-Chosen Romantic relationship. Original art would be nice, if that's your forte. See for kinks.

Touching Reality

As a creature who thrived on physical contact, being incorporeal left him helpless and frustrated. He couldn't enjoy the thrill of the fight or the satisfaction of getting his stones off. And, to his utter displeasure, he found that his inability to touch extended to touching himself. Although he didn't dream in this form, he was able to complete some sort of equivalent. Fantasies would plague him, phantom memories of his lover's bodies would haunt him. Buffy's breath against his neck, Drusilla's nails raking down his chest, Angelus' grip in his hair. This was hell for him. Being tempted with pleasures of touch but being denied the comfort it promised him.

It wasn't until he was nearly mad with hunger for even the brush of flesh against his that he began dreaming about Dawn. At first it was only glimpses, almost ignorable appearances. But the feel of her eyes on his form was almost as palable as an actual touch. He found himself watching her lustfully as her hot eyes traced along the strain of his muscles. Just out of reach as she observed him being ruthlessly fucked by Angelus, her eyes never straying from his as she oh-so-gently caressed herself. He reached for her, teeth emerging for just the briefest taste, but Angelus' hold would tighten and he could only watch as Dawn was brought to orgasm by her own tentative touches, delicate where he would be strong. Shortly after he would be rocketed back into the real world, left alone and longing, but the heaviness of her gaze would warm him.

Hoping to jump start Fred's campaign to make him touchable again, he told her a half truth about straddling some portal to hell. He liked the bird, so he wasn't going to full out lie to her. He was in hell, his own personal kind where Drusilla would simply giggle like a little girl as he squirmed to bring himself closer to Dawn's trembling, naked form hoping that he could at least smell her for fuck's sake and only being trapped within the ghost caresses of memories long gone.

The first time things began to change was during a Buffy memory. She was straddling him on the floor of his crypt, not daring to open her eyes and see exactly which member of the Scourge of Europe she was fucking. Then Buffy opened her eyes and looked down at him in complete disgust. Spike's eyes widened, this didn't happen- this wasn't part of his memory.

Buffy leaned down and nuzzled her nose against his.

"You want to fuck her, don't you, you sick bastard?" she hissed.

"What?" he said, startled.

"Want to fuck my sister's tight virgin pussy," the Slayer growled, her head flinging back in pleasure. "God, you are so disgusting."

He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but Buffy continued on and ignored him. She always ignored him.

"Who would want to touch her? She's not even real. She's just a thing, a burden..."

And then he heard it, a whimper coming from behind Buffy. He sat up, pushing Buffy off of him. Dawn was in the corner of his crypt, crying silently as she watched them. She was saying something under her breath... he strained his hearing and crawled a little closer to her.

"Just a bad dream, just a bad dream," she repeated over and over, a mantra.

Suddenly, everything made sense to him. It seemed stupid somehow to think that Dawn would simply lose her Key abilities once the Glory incident boiled over. He remembered how Dawn would come to him at night, crawl into his bed in the basement and whisper to him about her dreams. Sometimes they were beautiful, other times they were more gruesome than even he could stomach. She would talk about places she wandered that had all different names: Pylea, the Underground, Middle Earth, Narnia, dozens of places that had no name that she knew of that either held the darkest tortures or the happiest wishes. Her dreams and Buffy's death had caused her to dig into research heavily about herself and discovered that she had been around as long as time had been.

The Key must have been trying to find a way to familiarize Dawn with the various dimensions she had created and linked to. Dreams seemed to be the best answer, something that could be built up over time and eventually realized as truth through some intervention of the Powers. Or so Spike figured any way.

Every time she went to sleep, she pulled him into the portal of her mind. Usually she was just a spectator to his memories, but it appeared that tonight her own pain had distorted it. The reason he hadn't been able to touch her all along is because he didn't have any control over the scene, only Dawn did. Now, her misery had shattered her concentration and given him back the ability to control himself.

Focusing for a second, he looked back at Buffy and noticed that the bitch was still talking. He rolled his eyes before closing them, focusing hard on how this was just a dream. When he opened his eyes, Buffy was gone and he was clothed.

Thank God, comforting Dawn in her dreams was going to be awkward enough without having to be naked.

"Dawn," he whispered, reaching out to touch her. "Bit, don't cry."

She scrambled away from him. "Don't, please. I know. I'm horrible for thinking about you this way, for wanting you this way. I know that you love her and not me, that you could never ever want me when she is willing to give you even the slightest amount of attention. I know because I've loved you much longer and you only cared about me because you wanted her to love you. That you would never ever touch me and would never want to. I accept that. I'm just the little sister, and not much of one at that... just, please, don't touch me."

He was silent for a while, unsure what to say. "Bit, why would you think that? You are the first friend I've had in a over a hundred years, if not all my life. I cared about you, I didn't climb that tower for Buffy, I climbed it to save you. 'cos I care about you, pidge."

She sniffled and met his eyes, seemingly surprised that he would be speaking kindly to her at all. "But you don't love me."

"I care about you, bit," he admitted. She turned away, hearing the unspoken statement. He didn't love her.

He touched her hair, nearly speechless at the fact he could feel the silky strands slide through his fingers. "But I think I could love you."

Dawn's green eyes widened, "What?"

"You came to me, you came for me," he grinned wolfishly, delighting in the fact that the double meaning in his words had not been lost on her. "You cared about me when no one else did. Saw me when everyone else thought I was dirt. Buffy made me feel like a man, but you accepted both parts of me with an open heart."

His palm sought out her face, nearly groaning at the feel of her skin against the palm of his hand. His nerves were hungry, drinking in every last sensation they could. She leaned into him and her lips brushed his wrist, freeing the trapped sound in his throat. She blushed and he smiled.

"Like Drusilla reincarnated, you are. A dark princess, waiting for her white knight to save her," he leaned closer, feeling her breath against his face. "Will you let me?"

His hands slid along her knees, spreading them slowly. Her eyes hooded slightly, hypnotized by the power behind his stare. Blue eyes nearly black and devouring her whole. His thumbs caressed slow circles on her inner thighs, his fingers slowly tracing a path up her inner thighs.

"Will you let me worship you, baby?" he purred, nipping lightly at her lower lip. "Let me love you."

His clothes melted away, a wicked look from Dawn indicating exactly who had been in control of that change. The shine of the tear tracks on her cheeks made her face glow. Her legs spread of her own accord and drew him into her.

He paused, hovering at her entrance, as she watched him nervously.

"Tell me this isn't just a dream," she breathed.

"Not a dream," he replied.

He slowly circled her clit with his fingers, moaning as she squirmed against him. He wanted to make her come, make her scream his name, feel her shudder around him...

... but he wanted it for real.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," he said softly.

He closed his eyes kissed her deeply, a million sinful promises being breathed into her as he felt sensation slip away.

When his eyes opened, he was standing in front of the windows in Angel's office, watching the sun rise above the L.A. skyline.

Rolling his eyes, he stared up at the ceiling and beyond, to where he was sure some idiot from the Powers was watching him and cackling like a madwoman. Knowing his luck, it was probably the cheerleader.

"Subtle," he said sarcastically.

Shaking his head, he headed towards Fred's lab to where the frail woman was surely working hard on his problem. He couldn't make her coffee, but maybe a friendly face would speed up the process. He needed to be able to touch, now more than ever. As long as he was chained here, he was kept from keeping his promise. And he never broke a promise to a lady.

...

Half way across the world, Dawn finished scrawling the address of Wolfram and Hart on an anonymous package that contained a specific spell. She paused for a moment and hastily gave it to Lindsey. He smiled and winked and went on his way.

He didn't love her. Not yet. But with this, he just might.

.end.

darkinnocent — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 08:06:41 GMT

this made me laugh when I wanted to cry. there is still some good in this world.

darkinnocent — Mon, 18 Feb 2008 08:34:01 GMT

This is why I don't write crack!fic. This will never die.

Title: AIM Confidential, Part 2
Author: Claire Starling
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Crack. Fic. And swearing. And innuendo.
Disclaimer: I own me. That's it.
Pairing: Okay.... there are a lot in this one. Sylaire. Peter/Nathan. Suggested Peter/Nathan/Claire. Sylar/Maya. Maya/Mohinder... if you squint.
Summary: So... what if Claire and Sylar were friends and talked to each other on AOL Instant Messanger?
Part 1

A/N: To avoid confusion: Claire lives with Peter in NY while she goes to college because Noah didn't want her to go unsupervised and doesn't trust Angela Petrelli (for obvious reasons)
A/N 2: Feedback is the sweet, sweet crack that inspires these fics. If you have any ideas/requests for this series, let me know, I'm open to it!

AIM Confidential

shortbutsweet has signed on.

mmm_brains: You're two minutes and 26 seconds late
mmm_brains: 27
shortbutsweet: No, I'm not, the clock here says that it's 4:10.
mmm_brains: The clock is wrong.
shortbutsweet: Peter just set it yesterday.
mmm_brains: Peter is an idiot
mmm_brains: And he has stupid hair.
mmm_brains: And his mouth does this funny triangle thing when he talks.
mmm_brains: Not attractive at all.
shortbutsweet: You're just mad at me because of what I said the other day.
mmm_brains: About running into your uncle naked? No, not at all.
shortbutsweet: For a psychopathic serial killer, you are so transparent.
shortbutsweet: We share an apartment, it's sort of a hazard. He was coming out of the shower, I was going into it.
mmm_brains: Oh? Was Nathan coming out of the shower too?
shortbutsweet: What?
shortbutsweet: SHUT UP!
shortbutsweet: That is sooo gross. I just pictured my father naked.
mmm_brains: And yet seeing your uncle naked didn't bother you in the slightest...
shortbutsweet: Well, now that you mention it, they're both kinda hot...
shortbutsweet: Totally drool worthy
mmm_brains: Oh god, it's true. The Petrelli family is just one circus of incest, isn't it?
mmm_brains: This is great. Like I didn't have enough problems as it is.
mmm_brains: Do you know how hard it is to get brains out of my coat?
mmm_brains: And now I may land up on Jerry Springer because my girlfriend is caught up in a threesome of Italian love!
shortbutsweet: God, I was just kidding.
shortbutsweet: One taste of your own medicine and you become a freakazoid.
shortbutsweet: Did you just call me your girlfriend?
mmm_brains: No.
shortbutsweet: Yes, you did. It's not like the conversation disappeared or something, the proof is just a scroll away.
mmm_brains: So what? It was just a slip of the tongue.
mmm_brains: Fingers.
mmm_brains: Whatever.
shortbutsweet: So... you're saying that you don't want to be my boyfriend?
mmm_brains: No.
mmm_brains: I mean, only if you want me to.
mmm_brains: want to that is.
shortbutsweet: awwwww
shortbutsweet: You are so sweet.
mmm_brains: What? No.
shortbutsweet: Yes, you are.
mmm_brains: No. I kill people and eat their brains. I am not sweet. I'm bad. I'm evil.
shortbutsweet: Yeah, you're the big bad man who bought me a puppy on my birthday.
mmm_brains: An evil puppy. Ever hear of Cujo?
shortbutsweet: No, because I don't have a psychopathic boyfriend who wouldn't talk to me until I read at least four Stephen King novels.
mmm_brains: It was for your own good!
shortbutsweet: I can never look at clowns the same way again!
mmm_brains: Wait, did you just call me your boyfriend?
shortbutsweet: Well, yeah. You called me your girlfriend, seemed to make sense.
mmm_brains: So are we... um... dating?
shortbutsweet: Oh my god.
mmm_brains: What?
shortbutsweet: Oh my god.
mmm_brains: What?
shortbutsweet: Oh. my. god.
mmm_brains: WHAT?!
shortbutsweet: you've never had a gf before!
mmm_brains: Of course I have.
shortbutsweet: You can't see me, but my eyebrows are touching my hairline.
mmm_brains: Okay. I've never dated. But nobody looked at me as Gabriel and no one really interested me as Sylar.
mmm_brains: Although I have kissed a girl.
shortbutsweet: WHAT?!?!?!!?!?!?!
mmm_brains: Yeah. She was completely in love with me.
shortbutsweet: Who was this? When was this? Why didn't you tell me?
mmm_brains: I told you, remember? Maya was all goo goo over me and I needed her power while I was all powerless.
shortbutsweet: Impotent.
mmm_brains: Shut up.
mmm_brains: Anyway, since she was just about humping my leg, I figured I'd play along.
mmm_brains: It probably would have been better for me if she hadn't drooled so much.
shortbutsweet: So you only kissed?
mmm_brains: Um... I was kind of half naked and she wasn't exactly what I would call virtuous...
shortbutsweet: YOU HAD SEX WITH HER?
mmm_brains: ...
mmm_brains: I was thinking of you the whole time!
shortbutsweet: Isn't she staying with Mohinder?
mmm_brains: Yeah. Why?
shortbutsweet: No reason.
mmm_brains: Claire?

shortbutsweet: Cleaning Mohinder's floor. And possibly his walls. And ceiling.

mmm_brains: Oh shit.
mmm_brains: Don't rip off her clothes!
mmm_brains: Or let her rip off your clothes...
mmm_brains: Or roll around in vanilla ice cream...
mmm_brains: I hope Mohinder's apartment has surveillance tapes.

Post-note: I realize that Alejandro was dead in the bedroom... but let's just say that Sylar pushed him under the bed or something.
Additional Post Notes: Yes, I realize I'm crazy.

darkinnocent — Mon, 18 Feb 2008 04:15:51 GMT

CRACK!FIC!

Title: AIM Confidential
Author: Claire Starling
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Crack. Fic. And swearing. And innuendo.
Disclaimer: I own me. That's it.
Pairing: Sylaire, kind of. Hints of Petrellicest.
Summary: So... what if Claire and Sylar were friends and talked to each other on AOL Instant Messanger?
Awards: First place at Round One of sylaire_awards, Best Comedy/Fluff

AIM Confidential

shortbutsweet [20:22:08]: You did not just say I was Wolverine.
mmm_brains [20:22:38]: Well, if we are comparing our powers to that of the X-Men comics, then it would make sense to say that you are Wolverine
shortbutsweet [20:23:10] : You did not just call me Wolverine.
mmm_brains [20:23:40]: Would you rather be Sabertooth? Cause that can definitely be arranged.
shortbutsweet [20:23:45]: I AM GOING TO KILL YOU.
mmm_brains [20:23:56]: Oh no. Beware the wrath of the all mighty cheerleader. [/sarcasm]
shortbutsweet [20:23:51]: I am warning you.
mmm_brains [20:24:30]:What are you going to do? Annoy me to death?
mmm_brains [20:34:30]: Claire?
mmm_brains [20:44:30]: Claire...

shortbutsweet has signed off. [20:44:47]

mmm_brains [20:44:56]: Damnit.

shortbutsweet is currently offline.

mmm_brains has signed off. [20:45:39]

shortbutsweet has signed on. [15:16:48]
mmm_brains has signed on. [16:10:00]

mmm_brains [16:10:03]: You bitch.
shortbutsweet [16:10:07]: What did I do?
mmm_brains [16:10:15]: I don't know how you did it, or how long it took you to do it, but I will find some way to get back at you.
shortbutsweet [16:10:36]: I didn't do anything. 0:)
mmm_brains [16:10:53]: Do you know how long it took for me to reset every damn clock in this city?
shortbutsweet [16:11:18]: Nope.
mmm_brains [16:11:32]: You bitch.
shortbutsweet [16:11:55]: Hey! You can only blame yourself. You gave me the idea.
mmm_brains [16:12:00]: To do what?
shortbutsweet [04:12:33]: Annoy you to death.
mmm_brains[16:13:47]: I'm going to kill Peter.
shortbutsweet [16:14:02]: What? No!
mmm_brains [16:14:43]: How the hell did you convince him to help you do this?
shortbutsweet [16:15:08]: He owed me big time for not telling anyone I caught him in the shower with Nathan.
shortbutsweet [16:15:14]: I meant Natasha. Natasha! A big hooker named Natasha with badly permed hair and a rash!
mmm_brains [16:16:00]: Right. So you caught Nathan and Peter kissing.
shortbutsweet [16:16:11]: Kissing? Who said anything about kissing? They were just naked and groping!
shortbutsweet[16:16:13]: I mean...
shortbutsweet [16:16:14]: shit.
shortbutsweet [16:16:26]: um. Can we forget this conversation just happened?
mmm_brains [16:16:32]: Not a chance. Enhanced memory, remember?
shortbutsweet [16:17:03]: ...
shortbutsweet[16:17:23]: Just need to find those windchimes I guess.
mmm_brains [16:18:04]: Windchimes?
shortbutsweet [16:18:09]: Nothing.
mmm_brains [16:19:54]: Whatever, Wolverine.
shortbutsweet [16:20:14]: Shut up, sugah.
mmm_brains [16:20:16]: I am NOT Rogue!
shortbutsweet [16:20:29]: You both have to hurt other people to steal their powers, how is there an argument here?
mmm_brains [16:20:41]: I am not busty and Southern!
shortbutsweet[16:20:53]: What's wrong with being busty and Southern? You've never complained.
mmm_brains [16:21:34]: I like it on you. Not on me.
shortbutsweet [16:21:48]: Which explains why I find you shifted into me and masturbating that one time in Vegas.
mmm_brains [16:22:00]: Ever hear of the phrase 'what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas?'
shortbutsweet [16:22:13]: Which is why I never told anyone about the time I caught you seducing yourself.
shortbutsweet [16:22:15]: :)
mmm_brains [16:22:29]:...
mmm_brains [16:23:00]: Any chance we could forget this conversation ever happened?
shortbutsweet [16:23:31]: Not a chance. Former cheerleader and gossiper, remember?
mmm_brains [16:23:59]: Funny.
mmm_brains [16:24:03]: Guess I have to book a flight to Haiti.
shortbutsweet [16:24:17]: What?
mmm_brains [16:24:22]: Nothing.
shortbutsweet [16:24:44]: Whatever. I have to get going. Daddy Noah expects me home soon.
mmm_brains [16:24:58]: Go be a good little girl, Claire-bear.
shortbutsweet [16:25:38]: Fuck off.

shortbutsweet has signed off. [16:26:08]

mmm_brains [16:26:12]: I love you.

shortbutsweet is currently offline.

mmm_brains [16:26:32]: I am such an idiot.

shortbutcute is currently offline.

mmm_brains has signed off. [16:26:52]

darkinnocent — Thu, 10 Jan 2008 08:40:26 GMT

HELP!

I am in desperate need of an RP partner. My Spawn muse is slowly dying because my voice has been so long out of practice. If anyone would be willing to be Spike to my Dawn, let me know!!!

darkinnocent — Fri, 21 Dec 2007 00:06:36 GMT

DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE.

thank the lord.

winter break = win.

darkinnocent — Thu, 13 Dec 2007 22:49:10 GMT

Title: Codominance
Author: Claire Starling
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Spoilers for Season 2 Finale.
Disclaimer: All belongs to a man named Tim.
Time: Takes place Post-Powerless.
Pairing: Sylaire
NOTE: Sequel to Turnabout. YOU MUST READ THAT FIRST.
Summary: Submission was hard for her to fake, she had been one of the sheep so long. But ever since she had shed her fleece and let the wolf emerge, she had trouble doing anything but sneering at her formal self.
Awards: Mod's Choice at Round One of sylaire_awards

Codominance

Codominance: the situation in which the phenotypes of both alleles are exhibited in the heterozygote. Also known as "incomplete dominance."

They had tried to stop her, locked her up and shut her in. Submission was hard for her to fake, she had been one of the sheep so long. But ever since she had shed her fleece and let the wolf emerge, she had trouble doing anything but sneering at her formal self. She grit her teeth and bared it, considering it a lesson in manipulation.

As she plowed her way through an awkward dinner with her family, she agreed to continue packing. Her father was dead set on them moving somewhere new, especially when he revealed that the Company had told him that Sylar was still alive. Although he was supposedly powerless, he had still escaped and killed one of the agents. Knowing that Claire’s power would be one of Sylar’s first targets, he didn’t even bother telling them where they were going.

He asked her if she wanted to say goodbye to West, clearly expecting a fight. She didn't bother looking away from her food.

"Why?" she asked. "He's better off really. And so am I."

Dinner was finished in silence.

As she waited for her family to go to sleep, she couldn't help but think about how she used to despise her biological grandmother. Suddenly, she began to understand exactly why she was the way she was. It was survival of the fittest, protect your own pack. Her father had thought he was the lion, but this cub was fully grown and more than ready to take care of her family. She had eliminated the first in a line of potential threats.

Now it was time to up the stakes.

Mohinder had been involved with her capture. They had tied her down and taken what she was willing to give freely. His morals were becoming skewed, it was time she straightened them out.

Snagging the firearm, Claire left her home in Costa Verde. A quick hacking of her father's computer had disclosed that Mohinder was living in a loft in New York City. Getting on a plane with a gun wasn't going to be possible, but getting into the cargo section? That was a different story.

...

She was expecting a lot of things when she got to New York, but she didn't expect to see Sylar steal her blood before escaping from Elle's rather pathetic attempt of a search.

Following Sylar was easy, he was too preoccupied with injecting himself to notice her. It was hilarious to see the man who had once been so powerful shaking like a heroine addict as he picked up a syringe and a vial of her blood.

The click of her gun cocking was enough to bring his eyes to her.

"Well, well, well if it isn't our indestructible cheerleader? You lost little girl?" Sylar crooned, eyeing the gun in her hand.

"Last I checked, I'm not the one who has lost anything. If the word on the grapevine is true, you are the one who is missing his powers," Claire replied, not intimidated in the least by his glare.

"Not for much longer," he replied, moving to stick himself with the needle.

A bullet ricocheted off the wall next to his head.

Sylar's eyes met hers, surprised. Last time he had seen her, she was a shaking mess before him, a lamb to the slaughter. Now she was the big bad wolf, and Sylar didn't fancy getting painted red.

"Hand over the blood," Claire said calmly.

"Or what, Claire-bear? You going to wave your pom-poms at me?" he taunted.

"Or else you're going to find out what it feels like to have your brain removed from your skull," she replied. Her head tipped to the side as she smirked at him, his own expression mocking him. "Poetic justice, wouldn't you say?"

Sylar eyed Claire from head to toe. He couldn't help but wonder if this is what Chandra Suresh had seen in him when Gabriel Gray had changed into something more, into Sylar. Claire hadn't finished her transition yet, but he could tell that whatever was lurking beneath her flesh was going to be commanding.

The Claire he had met in Texas was weak. She was a means to an end, another dead body, a husk housing his power.

This Claire... this Claire was formidable, an opponent. If she was a male, he would be more concerned. After all, there can only be one alpha. Once he got his powers back, he was going to take care of the only threat to his throne.

But Claire... Claire was passionate, strong, eternal. She was a potential mate. And damn him, she was everything he had ever wanted in high school but could never have.

His transformation from Gabriel to Sylar had been painful and harsh. He could ease her pain and mold her in his image.

But first he had to get her to stop pointing the gun at him.

Slowly, he placed the blood onto the ground and slid it towards her. Her gun hand didn't relax as she stalked over to the vial and smashed it with the heal of her boot. He winced, part of him crying out.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"I'm guessing you weren't a willing donor," Sylar said.

She shook her head. "I guess the Company has never heard of the saying 'ask and you shall receive'."

There was a silence as the two looked at each other. The air between them was thick as Claire slowly closed to distance between them, her finger still on the trigger as she kissed his temple with her gun.

There was something about him... something that made the change that was born inside her grow.

"I could kill you."

"Yes."

"Powerful feeling, isn't it?"

"Intoxicating."

He grabbed hold of her legs and yanked her down. The gun fired and a bullet tore a path along the side of his skull but his intent did not waver. She fell to her knees in front of him, gun pressed to his heart.

"Fix me, Claire. Please," he said softly. "Heal me."

Claire studied his eyes, coming to the conclusion that although the emotion there was genuine, him being submissive in any way was hurting him.

"If I do this, you belong to me," she replied, her gaze steady.

"Yes," his hissed, eyes blazing.

"If I do this, you could kill me," she continued, taking the syringe from the box and carefully removing the blood from her arm.

"Yes," he repeated, nearly drooling at the sight of her blood.

"If I do this, I belong to you," she finished, stabbing the needle into his vein.

Her old self screamed, the cheerleader bursting into flames as she realized what she had just done. But the phoenix that rose just laughed, enjoying the sadistic connotation this all had.

Sylar yanked her into his arms, pulling at her hair and sealing his lips over her. She fought against him, her own hands threading into his hair, nails scratching at the wound she had caused and was frantically trying to heal itself. It was a struggle for dominance; every step he took to force her to submit was another she used to assert her authority.

Finally, they tore away from each other. Mouths bloodied and panting. Both of them dared not look away, eyes black with lust.

"Help me destroy the Company," Claire demanded.

Sylar tipped his head and smirked. His hand shot out and he telekinetically pulled a lone can into his hand.

Holding the trash like a trophy, Sylar smiled at his partner.

"Only if you say please."

.end.

darkinnocent — Tue, 04 Dec 2007 23:44:56 GMT

Title: Turnabout
Author: Claire Starling
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Spoilers for Season 2 Finale. Character Death.
Disclaimer: All belongs to a man named Tim.
Time: Takes place during Powerless
Pairing, Characters: None. Claire, HRG, Bob
Summary: Turnabout is fair play.

Turnabout

They had taken everything away from her. Her freedom was taken away the second her ability was whispered in the ears of the Company. Her identity replaced to protect her family. Her individuality smothered to hide her. Her blood sucked out of her for experimentation. And now her father had been killed because all he wanted to do was save her.

She had cried. She couldn’t count the number of tears she had sobbed and it was impossible for her to run out because her body could always supply more. She screamed and pulled out her hair and the pain never, ever stopped.

It wasn’t until she had poured her father’s ashes out over the ocean that she finally tasted clarity mixed in with the salt of the sea. As the sun dipped under the horizon, she finally understood what she had to do.

Her father had spent his whole life protecting her from The Company. Now it was time to pay him back. She would destroy the people that destroyed her. Her tears went away and determination filled the hollowness in her.

But when her father walked through her front door, healed from her blood, everything stopped. Warmth began to bloom in her and Claire wanted to pinch herself so that she could be sure that this was real.

Her plans began to waver under the strength of her happiness.

And then Noah informed her of what he had done. The Company stole her father away again and he was going willingly. To protect her. She grit her teeth and could not control the rage that welled up inside of her. The clarity, the peace that she had found comfort in was completely destroyed. She couldn’t let him do this, not after everything that had happened. She couldn’t let him be apart of the enemy again, couldn’t let him take this away from her.

She stalked after him, a chill crawling up her spin as the voice of Bob reached her ears. And suddenly, it all made sense. They were using her father to keep her quiet. And her father was complying to protect poor, innocent Claire.

She didn’t need to be protected.

Turning on her heel, Claire ripped open one of the boxes she had so carefully packed and pulled out the firearm she had found stashed in her dad’s desk. Driven with a purpose she only felt twice before, Claire stormed past her mother.

She swung the door open and it collided with the inside of her house with a startling bang. Both her father and Bob turned and Claire instinctively took aim and fired. The bang, she noted, was far more deafening than the sound of the door.

While it wasn’t the best shot, it did the job. The bullet had lodged itself just below his throat.

Claire let her arms fall to her sides as she stared down at the twitching, dying body.

“Claire,” her father whispered.

She looked up and saw that her father had reached out a hand to touch her but merely hovered. His face was distorted with horror and fear. His eyes searched hers, looking for an answer.

Claire’s gaze just moved to Bob’s body as he gave a final shudder and died.

“Claire!” her father repeated, finally taking hold of her. His big hands fell on her arms as he turned her roughly to face him.

Her eyes met his and he was frightened of what he found there, or more specifically, what he didn’t find there: not an ounce of guilt, only cold hard determination.

A smile stretched her lips as her head tilted. “Oh Daddy, look what you made me do.”

.end.

darkinnocent — Tue, 04 Dec 2007 03:01:49 GMT

ZOMGWTFHEROESFINALE

darkinnocent — Tue, 27 Nov 2007 03:04:56 GMT

It's come down to this. The last two episodes. If you want to follow my train of thought for the episode, read beneath the cut.

LEAVE CAITLIN IN THE FUTURE- NO ONE CARES!

Damn, Adam is fine.

OMFG, I HATE MOHINDER! YOU ARE SUCH A NAIVE SON OF A BITCH! YAAAH-- CAN'T YOU JUST SIT HERE AND LOOK PRETTY?!

Holy crap, where in the hell was Micah and Monica for the past episodes? Monica is fuckin' cool-- she should have had a bigger part this season instead of the stupid WONDER twins.

SYLAR! AHHHH! SYLAR! He's so fine. Hit on Claire that way- not MAYA. I love how well he manipulates people.

WELL, IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME, WOMAN! YOU ARE SO FUCKING ANNOYING, GAH. DIE!

She's going to shoot herself with a gun that big.

mmmm.... Sweeney Todd trailer.

*sigh* Hiro, you are being rather stupid, aren't you? You were so much more interesting last season... more amusing.

GUILT PLOY! Damn, Peter, you suck.

Sylar, you are awesome.

No, no don't kiss. DON'T KISS!

Anyone else notice that he was tracing the line of her skull where he usually cuts?

Don't TRUST ADAM YOU STUPID PRiCK!.... Well, we all saw that coming. God, Peter, you are gradually becoming stupider and stupider.

OH- MAN FIGHT MAN FIGHT. And of course, knifing and Maya ruins everything and...

0.o

NAKED ZACK. HOLY HELL! I JUST... HOLY HELL! 0,o I am having so much trouble thinking right about now. Just want to nibble... a little... maybe some... *whimper*

*drool*

NO DON'T FUCKING KISS HER. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! hahaha, Alexajando is dead but NOOOOOOOOOO!

Aw, Claire. *hugs*

AAAH! I LOVE MONICA. I'd rather have Sylar making out with her than Maya. At least she's worthy.

It looks like a video game. Mohinder, you suck. I totally think that this is going to go wrong.

I LOVE MONICA! Coolest New hero EVA!

and hence the badness...

Whose ashes are those?

KICK THAT BITCHES ASS!

AH! Sylar! MOLLY!

They cannot CUT IT THERE! THOSE FRIGGIN BASTARDS!

Okay: my predictions for who dies- Hiro. Nikki.

Sylar will use Claire's blood to heal.

Claire and Nathan will go to the press with their powers. This is going to start a Mutant vs. Human rivalry.

I'm really depressed about what has happened to Nikki, Hiro, and Ando's characters because they were so much fun the first season.

darkinnocent — Tue, 06 Nov 2007 02:00:44 GMT

Title: Natural Selection
Author: Claire Starling
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: R
Warnings: Mentions sex, execution, and has bad language. Multiple Character Deaths.
Disclaimer: This is me with the non ownage.
Time: AU
Pairing: Sylaire, slight Paire
Summary: "When the government had gotten wind of the evolution of their species, it wasn’t long before they resorted to mass murder to ensure that humans would be the fittest to survive."
A/N: This is written for hymenchan's backseat challenge. I wrote an alternate ending, but I felt like it didn't the feeling of the fiction. I may post it if people are interested, but if they feel like this ending is good enough, I'll just leave it as is.
Awards: Third place at Round One of sylaire_awards, Best Mature Fic

Natural Selection

When the government had gotten wind of the evolution of their species, it wasn’t long before they resorted to mass murder to ensure that humans would be the fittest to survive. Men, women, children- it didn’t matter to them as long as they were dead. The government decided to alter Homeland Securities focus from dealing with terrorists to dealing with the “Genetic Abnormalities” or GAs.

Several GAs were enslaved in order to find the others, tracking down dozens of people who were born with a gift and sentencing them to their deaths.

Needless to say, Parkman and Mohinder didn’t take it very well when Noah Bennet took it upon himself to shoot the most powerful weapon against the GAs. Standing over Molly Walker’s corpse, Noah didn’t protest when Matt took the gun from his hand and shot him through the eye. Claire sobbed into the arms of her father’s murderer, not needing to be a mind reader to know that Matt had accepted that it was necessary, that death was better than the things the government would have done to Molly if they had gotten their hands on her.

As if knowing a gap would need to be filled, Matt became her surrogate father.

Nathan protested at first, wanting his daughter to come live with him, to join the Petrelli family. But after a quick reminder of just how recently he had patched things up with his wife and kids, he knew that Claire’s appearance would only shatter all of it. Not to mention that flying was easier to hide than involuntary regeneration.

Matt and Claire traveled, finding other GAs and shipping them off to Montreal where Peter would be waiting to supply them with food, clothes, and a new life.

Sometimes they were just in time; sometimes they were far too late. Micah had fallen to the black baggers and St. Joan, New Orleans’ personal savior followed shortly after.

Several government members responsible for the New Orleans branch of death camps were soon found dead. Their deaths were gruesome, bloody, and from the expressions on the corpse’s faces, very painful. Three bombings and two sniper shootings later, almost 1,000 employees of Homeland Security were dead. It was only when Jessica Sanders decided to slit the Vice President’s throat that she was finally caught. She laughed while they dragged her away, medics trying to revive a man that was all ready dead.

Her execution was broadcasted on public TV, stations fighting over the exclusive rights. Scheduled the same night as the last night of the World Series, the game was quickly postponed due to the number of viewers that were tuning into watch the famous Sanders lynching.

While watching the execution, Claire knew by the look in her eyes that it was Nikki who was about to be publicly hanged in front of the entire country. Claire wasn’t surprised that she didn’t look scared or guilty. She wasn’t surprised that Nikki managed to kill her own executioner before she died. Claire smiled bitterly, knowing that Nikki had gotten her own taste of vengeance. But when people started throwing garbage and spitting on her body, Claire shut off the television.

She didn’t sleep for two weeks.

The Company began its own campaign, breeding amongst their kind. The pregnant were pumped full of hormones in the hopes of mass production and kept under lock and key until they were well enough to restart the process. Women were used and used and used until they were incapable of bearing any more children. As retaliation against ‘normal’ people, children who were shown to not possess any abilities were killed shortly after birth.

Matt was impressed with how tight the security was around the women and mentioned it off-handedly to Claire. She had laughed it off, finding the whole idea of breeding absurd.

It was only when Matt told her that Nathan had filled out the paperwork to enroll her in the program that Claire nearly had a coronary.

“What?!” she screeched, looking down at the papers that were only missing her signature.

“We just want you to be safe, Claire,” Matt said calmly.

“I’m indestructible, I don’t need to be protected!” she protested. “Dear god, I did not keep myself hidden away this long to be used as a baby machine!”

“Stop being selfish, Claire! Our kind will be extinct if we don’t procreate,” Nathan spat, pacing the room.

“Me? Being selfish? You are the one asking me to lie on my back for the rest of my life while every Tom, Dick, and Harry with a fucking shine in his eye sticks it in your daughter until I pop out half a million kids. Once they know I can regenerate, I will be a permanent fuck toy!”

“Claire, watch your mouth!” Nathan admonished.

“No, you aren’t allowed to play daddy, not now. Not after this. I clearly remember you crying in happiness two years ago when the tests came back and revealed that your precious sons didn’t carry your special gene. And now you have the audacity to tell me I’m selfish.”

Nathan paled. “I didn’t want my kids to have to go through this.”

“I am your kid,” Claire said, her voice quiet, “and maybe I don’t want my children to have to deal with this either.”

Nathan sighed in defeat and sent Matt a rush of thoughts before storming out of their modest apartment.

Claire looked down at her feet, crossed arms falling to her side. “He’s going to forge my signature,” she stated. “Report me.”

Matt said nothing but his silence was telling.

“Claire,” Matt whispered. “It’s better if you do this willingly. I’ve seen what they do to girls who aren’t willing. And so has he.”

Tears formed in Claire’s eyes. “I thought… I thought he cared about me. Why? Why would he want to do that to me?”

Matt sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He would rather see you as a mother than have to watch you be pulled apart piece by piece by the Homeland freaks. If they got a hold of you… they’d torture you for a long time.”

Claire sniffed, trying to hold back the tears she knew were shining in her eyes. She met Matt’s gaze and nearly broke down at the hopeless look in his eyes.

“Matt, please…”

He looked away, a conflicted expression contorting his face. His jaw clenched and unclenched before he turned and walked away, gently shutting himself inside his room.

It was the soft click that undid her, harsher to her than the slamming of a door. She collapsed to the floor like a forgotten puppet and cried.

...

“Going somewhere?” Matt asked.

Claire looked up from her frantic packing to see Matt leaning against the door jam.

Fuck.

“Language,” Matt warned.

And again, Claire went over the pit falls of having a psychic as her guardian but was unable to keep the smile from her face.

“I’m 21, Matt. I think I’m big enough to use bad words,” she remarked, amused, before she continued to pack.

“Need help?” he asked but only got a death glare in return.

“I called Peter,” Matt said casually after another minute of listening to her shuffle through her belongings.

“God, why?” Claire replied, angrily attempting to fold a shirt. “So he can teleport down here and literally force me to go with the Company? One uterus coming straight up! Ready and prepared for fertilization, boys!”

“He said that he can relocate you, start you off with a few grand, but you have to leave today,” Matt said, his tone no longer playful.

Claire dropped her shirt and looked up at him in confusion.

“When I explained it to him, Peter understood. He was under the impression that you wanted to do this willingly. I’m sure he’ll try to bring you around once you’re up there, but…”

“Oh, Matt, thank you!” Claire squealed, running into his arms, happy to find security in his strength.

“I will always protect you,” he whispered into her hair.

Claire pulled away after a long moment and observed the man who had been her father for six long years. He had aged, his face permanently scarred with worry but his eyes always warmed in her presence.

“I guess you should start packing too,” Claire said.

Matt pushed a rebellious strand of her brown hair behind her ear. “I’m not going.”

“What? No,” Claire shook her head. “Matt, no.”

“Claire, sweetie, I have to,” Matt replied. “Peter only has room for one. There is a lot of work that needs to be done here, a lot of people who still need my help.” Matt brushed a tear off her face. “It will be a lot less suspicious if I stay behind. It’s just about time for college… and you were complaining about growing rusty on your French.”

Claire sniffled. “I don’t want to go without you.”

“You have to,” Matt said, pulling Claire back into his arms. “This is the only way to keep you safe. Plus, you get to lose the icky brown hair color that you’ve been whining over for the past three years.”

She laughed when he tugged on a strand of said hair and burrowed into his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You get to be a red head. Not blonde, but it’s better than nothing.”

Claire pulled away to look at him and saw that Matt had been crying too. Her eyes welled up again but she swallowed hard and forced the tears down her throat.

“When do I leave?” she asked.

“The car will be here in three hours.”

Claire nodded and took a step back. She all ready knew that if she was ever going to see him again, it wasn’t going to be for a very long time. She wanted to cry but she couldn’t. She had swallowed the last of the salt, there were no more tears left.

“Help me pack?” she asked.

A half smile lifted his lips and he wrapped an arm around her. “Sure.”

…

Getting past the border was remarkably easy. The ride was long and Claire was glad to reach her destination. She stretched her legs and took a sip from a bottle of water. Idly, she stared out at the horizon, shivering slightly in the cool air. She missed Odessa, the warmth and safety of home. She missed ignorance. She wanted to go home but home was gone. She wanted to belong somewhere again… she could only hope that whatever was waiting for her now would bring her that peace.

So caught up in her musings, she didn’t notice Peter walking up behind her until he spoke. “You’ve grown.”

Claire’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest as she turned.

“Peter!” she panted, hand over her heart. “You scared me.”

He walked closer to her, a soft smile on his face as eyed her up and down.

“I liked you better as a blonde,” he commented.

She smiled. “I could always dye it back,” she said, stepping up to meet him.

“I’ve missed you,” she said quietly before pulling him into a hug.

He breathed her in and Claire hugged him tighter, relaxing into his embrace.

The innocent hug soon dissolved when she felt Peter literally shift in her arms as a warm tongue slid over her jugular.

“I’ve missed you too, Claire-bear.”

Claire cried out in surprised at the shock of pain to her neck. At first she thought he had bit her, but when she pulled away she saw the syringe.

“Sylar,” she whispered, backing away.

He grinned wolfishly, “Sleep well, baby girl.”

This wasn’t possible, he died! Her thoughts scattered and realigned a million times as she felt the drug start to simmer in her veins. She managed to arrange her face into a mask of confusion before the world tilted.

“What-?” she whimpered.

She thought about running, but it was too late. Her vision went dark, then black.

…

The first thing she noticed when she woke up is that several key pieces of her wardrobe are missing.

“Could someone please give me my pants back?” she slurred.

When she finally found the strength to lift her head, her gaze immediately locked with his. Pitch-black pools with hidden secrets and Claire couldn’t help but shiver at some of the promises waiting there.

“Impressive,” Sylar commented. “The amount of sedatives I gave you would kill a herd of elephants. I thought it would take at least another two hours for you to wake up… but I guess you’ve evolved since we last met.”

Something twisted in her stomach at the way his eyes flared when he spoke to her, but she convinced herself that it was just disgust. “If you’re going to take my brain, just do it. But give me my goddamn pants back.”

Sylar slid closer to her and Claire resisted the urge to press herself against the car door. It wouldn’t have done her much good; the backseat was too small for personal space. She thought about tugging on the handle, but she could see that the doors were welded shut. She was trapped.

“What makes you think I’m going to kill you?” Sylar replied, cupping her cheek.

Claire wanted to slap the amused grin off of his face. “It’s what you do, Sylar. You’re a murderer. It’s not like we don’t have enough to worry about, but now our kind has to worry about you killing us off as well.”

For a moment, Sylar's features dropped and he held her gaze. "I know what is happening to our kind, Claire." For the briefest of moments, she thought she saw remorse and guilt. But then Sylar grinned and Claire felt her chest tighten. “But I don’t need to kill anymore, Peter took care of that. Didn’t you, Pete?” He said, looking at the front seat.

Claire followed his gaze and screamed as her eyes met those of her uncle’s. Pain had been permanently etched into his features, his dead eyes staring deep into her. She blinked and it was gone. He was gone.

Sylar laughed as though someone had told a hilarious joke. Claire began to cry. “It was just an illusion, princess.”

“Then, it wasn’t real. Peter… he’s-.”

“Still dead, I’m afraid,” Sylar crooned, hands tracing her collarbone.

“You bastard!” Claire screamed, lunging on him as she began to punch him with all of her strength.

Sylar laughed harder, seeming to enjoy every blow. “Yes, Claire, yes! Get mad, get angry! I love your passion- that’s why I’ve selected you.”

Claire stopped when Sylar grabbed her wrists and snapped the delicate bones there.

“Selected me?” she spat. “Selected me for what? The lobotomy special?”

“Darwin said it best, doll face. Only the strongest survive. And what is one of the most vital ways to ensure survival?”

Claire’s eyes widened, “No.”

“Yes. I need someone to be able to carry my offspring. The strongest, the most worthy, and you, Claire-bear, you are my choice.”

“If you want someone to have your kid, go screw a two dollar tramp. She’d be thrilled to know that you want her for her mind,” Claire hissed, yanking her hands away and cracking the bones back into place.

“No. You are the best choice, your power of regeneration will protect my children,” Sylar argued.

“More like I was the girl you could never get in high school and now you’re eager to make up for it.” Claire snorted. “What’s the matter, Gabe? Fell for a cheerleader and all she did was make you feel small and impotent so now you’re going to be the big bad boogieman and be special enough to finally be worthy?”

His glare was her only answer and now Claire took her turn at laughing, unabashedly enjoying his weakness. Her laughter died down when his face turned red, a wolfish grin warping her own.

“You never had a girl like me,” she declared, licking her lips. His eyes followed her every movement before meeting her hard eyes. “You’ll never have a girl like me.”

Before she could draw a breath to laugh at him, his lips were crushed to hers and she was yanked to his body. It was a battle of teeth and tongue and they were both losing and both victorious.

He pulled her down against his erection and she moaned into his kiss. The sound seemed to trigger something in Sylar because her shirt was ripped off her body, his hands covering her breasts before she could register the sting of flesh.

“Here I thought I’d have to woo you,” he murmured into her skin.

She keened as he bit down on her breast, grinding down into him. His groan was her victory.

“Guess I’ve always like it rough,” she replied, rotating her hips to find the correct angle that pressed her clit against the head of his cock.

She knew she had found it when Sylar bit down harder and she gasped in pain. Her blood slipped out from the corners of his mouth and she could feel it dribble down, somehow cooler than her skin.

Claire’s hands found his collar and she ripped his shirt in half, buttons flying. Her mouth sought his flesh as his fingers slipped into her panties. When his mouth enclosed around her nipple and his fingers brushed her aching center, her mouth abandoned it’s exploration in order for her eyes to meet his in awe.

There was a moment of stillness as he pulled away from her breast, giving the dusky peak one last longing lick. She bit down on her lip when she discovered that she couldn’t squirm. She whimpered as he held her still, his fingers so close to where she desperately needed them.

His gaze was burning hot into hers and she knew exactly what he was waiting for but she was reluctant to let this last barrier break free. It was only when he leaned forward and brushed a kiss to her forehead that she gave in.

“Sylar, please,” she begged.

He grinned into her hair. “Good girl.”

And then he was touching her and she didn’t have time to think about what was happening. His fingers were slipping easily into her wet opening and he was stretching her, filling her.

“It’s good to know that every time I fuck you, you’ll be a tight little virgin,” he growled into her ear.

She retaliated by scoring her nails down his back, grinning as he swore when the flesh gave way under her fingernails.

She heard the seams of her underwear give way as he prodded her entrance with something much bigger than his fingers. She was expecting him to thrust into her, but instead he just hovered.

“Tell me, what would Daddy Noah say if he could see his precious Claire-Bear about to get fucked by the big bad wolf?” he crooned.

Claire cocked her head before she unexpectedly sunk down on him, taking his full length into her. Sylar gasped in surprise. Claire leaned forward, her lips a bare whisper from his.

“He’d probably kill you,” she replied sweetly. She ran her tongue over his lower lip. “Do you know what the French call an orgasm, Gabriel?”

Sylar met her gaze and smiled at the degree of madness he found there.

“La petite mort: the little death,” her teeth raked along his jaw as her hands found purchase on his shoulders. “And since I am daddy’s little girl, I think I can kill you just a little.”

And then she began to move. Sylar clung to her hips as she took him deep inside her; nearly dying ever time she pulled away.

It wasn’t loving or sweet or slow. It was quick and violent and desperate. Two people praying at the alters of each others bodies in the hopes of finding some sort of salvation. Each thrust was a silent prayer, each whimper a hymn. He whispered his sins into her flesh and she took them in, so deep within herself. And every time she cried out his name, he moved harder, faster, pounding ever memory out of her, fucking every impurity out until tears wept from her pores.

He shouted her name, biting down onto her neck. He felt her shudder against him and he pulled away to watch her face. His attention was drawn to the wound on her shoulder as he watched her heal, felt himself heal.

“You’re mine now,” he stated, cradling her to his body.

As her sweat mingled with his, she smiled against him. There was something vulnerable in the way he held her, pulling her close and pressing her into him. If this was only about mating, he could have pushed her away afterwards. He could have founds scores of women with powers he deemed "worthy" enough to protect his child. But he didn't. On some level, she knew he had chosen her for a deeper reason than her ability.

He would never say he loved her, but there was no love in the animal kingdom. There was only possession. And she would kill any bitch that tried to take away her mate.

“Mine too,” she murmured, nuzzling into him.

For a moment, the urge to run stirred with in her. This man had hunted her… he had killed her once. Now, she lay beside him with what could possibly be his cub growing inside of her. And yet, she couldn’t be more content. No one in her life had let her do what was her nature to do, be what was her nature to be. She refused to be their pet any longer. Sylar may not love her as they did, but he respected her. He saw her as an equal, a mate.

Sylar may prefer Darwin, but Claire had always liked Plato. “People are like dirt. They can either nourish you and help you grow as a person or they can stunt your growth and make you wilt and die.” Too long had she lived with those who stunted her growth, who had forced her to constantly butt her head against a glass ceiling. No more. In the arms of her enemy, she had found enrichment. He was not afraid to watch her grow and evolve. She would overcome the ones who overlooked her. She would change and prosper and share her power with every child who bore her blood.

And he would be with her, with them. The others had forgotten, but Sylar… Sylar never forgets. “Save the cheerleader, save the world.” He saved her. And now the world was waiting for the fittest to conquer. Covering Sylar’s hand over her stomach, Claire smiled.

Nathan and the others were impatient, but she and Sylar had all the time in the world. Nine months from now a new era will begin… and the beginning is the most important part of the work.

.end.

darkinnocent — Wed, 10 Oct 2007 05:38:55 GMT

I wrote a song. It's completely bizaar. I was listening to "Remember Me as a Time of Day" by Explosions in the Sky (recommended by sideways), which is an instrumental piece, and lyrics started to pop into my mind. I am not nearly brave enough to share the mp3 I recorded nor do I even know how to do that. So hazah, I will share the lyrics with you and you can tell me just how bad it is.

Intermediate Filaments

Like intermediate filaments
you specialize in bearing tension
you caught my attention

and everyone else would not stay
but you caught my gaze and wouldn't look away
you wouldn't look away

you said my love, I love you, love
I will never leave you behind
and although my heart did tremble then
I couldn't help but believe you, love of mine

are you the one for me?
I can't believe I just didn't see
are you the one I've been looking for?
were you hidden behind the locked door?

I tore up my insides and found you within
you were hiding inside my heart
I tried to not let you get under my skin
but you were there from the start

and you said my love, I love you, love
I will never leave you behind
and although my heart did tremble then
I couldn't help but to believe you
love of mine...

darkinnocent — Mon, 01 Oct 2007 04:20:52 GMT

the following people are on my personal entry list, this is not for fanfiction. it is for my endless musings on life.

betwixtengram
dracschick
hymenchan
leon_krouser
seaforanswers
pip_malloy
pspawn

[if you'd like to be added, please comment to this entry]

First Impressions

darkinnocent — Tue, 25 Sep 2007 16:27:06 GMT

Title: First Impressions
Author: Claire Starling
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: Hard PG-13
Warnings: Torture and Violence implied. Character Deaths.
Disclaimer: This is me with the non ownage.
Time: Slight AU in Season One, everything up until "The Hard Part" is the same. The events of "Company Man" did not occur.
Pairing: Sylaire
Summary: Sylar takes it upon himself to leave a good first impression on Claire's parents.
A/N: First time ever writting a Heroes fanfiction, and it's been a long time since I worked on anything besides my Buffy novella. This was written for hymenchan's "Meet the Parents" challenge.

First Impressions

He was glad that he had gotten to meet her family early into the relationship. He hadn’t had many girlfriends, but he knew that the “family dinner” was usually especially awkward. He was glad to have it out of the way, considering he knew her family much better than even she did.

Her mother was sweet, let him in without question and smiled. Offered him a beverage and asked him if they had ever met before because oh, you look just so familiar. She just could put her finger on it.

He was glad to assist.

The boy was nothing special, unworthy of holding the title of “brother.” He shattered him thoroughly before Mr. Bennet even came home. His last words made Sylar smile.

The boy gazed stupidly at the ball of fire in Sylar’s hand, out of his mind from the blood loss and torture.

“Look at the size of that…” he had slurred.

The smell of his incinerated flesh was far less repugnant than the actual boy.

He hadn’t taken much joy in the death of her mother or brother; it was her father he was waiting for. He heard the door open, keys jangle, daddy’s home!

Surprise, papa.

He made sure to kill Bennet slowly, carefully extracting each scream from him like a dedicated musician. He wanted to know which kind of pain caused which sound, how loud, how soft, how long… Thank god for the waitress. He would be able to listen to Bennet sniveling and begging for death for the rest of his life. It was music to his ears. Far more effective than listening to rap.

He was waiting for her now. He sat at the table, her table, drinking the beverage her mother had made for him only hours ago. The brandy didn’t mix well with blood, but victory sweetened the taste.

He wasn’t selfish; he had brought his mother too. He arranged her carefully in the closet for safekeeping until Claire got home. It wouldn’t be fair for him to go through the embarrassing process of getting acquainted with her family if she didn’t do the same with his.

Sylar smiled. He had a feeling that he was going to get along with her family just fine.

.end.

darkinnocent — Sat, 21 Jul 2007 06:13:22 GMT

just worked... at a bookstore... on 07.21... until 1:30 in the morning. And I got to leave early.

*falls over*

and I have to be there for a seven hour shift tomorrow.

*iz ded*

damn you, rowling! damn you!

This is humanity at its worst.

darkinnocent — Mon, 16 Apr 2007 21:39:37 GMT

The deadliest school shooting in US history occured today at Virginia Tech. Please read this article and say a prayer for those who have lost their lives, lost someone they love, or is still in critical condition in the hospital.

http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/04/16/vtech.shooting/index.html

book challenge

darkinnocent — Tue, 06 Feb 2007 06:55:55 GMT

Completely forgot to post this. I've been participating in 50bookchallenge, something that I think any avid reader would enjoy. The basic concept is that everyone in the community will try to read 50 books before January 1, 2008. It's a great community because you can get recs for what to read next and post reviews and have discussions about your favorite books.

Here are the ones that I've finished so far:

1. Prozac Nation by Elizabeth Wurtzel:

This memoir inspired me to do something that I rarely ever do (I can only think of one or two occasions), write in a book. Filled with amazing quotes and insights, Wurtzel holds nothing back as she bares the darkest parts of her. She spares herself no humilation and does nothing to make herself appear anything more or less that who she was. It's strange how much this book spoke to me and scared me at the same time because in certain parts I felt as though Elizabeth Wurtzel (the author) had torn a page out of my diary and typed it into her book. As someone who is currently taking Prozac, this book spoke to me on a very personal level. I feel as though this book defines depression for today's youth. 5/5

Random passages that striked me as profound:

"I will drain them and drown them until they know how little of me there is left even after I've taken everything they've got to give me because I hate them for not knowing." (page 52)

"I'm a stranger wherever I go because I'm strange to myself." (page 162)

"My gifts are for life itself, for an unfortunately astute understanding of all the cruelty and pain in the world. My gifts are unspecific. I am an artist manque, someone full of crazy ideas and grandiloquent needs and even a litttle bit of happiness, but with no particular way to express it." (page 231)

"...love is always a product and a victim of circumstance." (page 246)

"Rock bottom is an inability to cope with the commonplace that is so extreme it makes even the grandest and loveliest things unbearable." (page 288)

"One of the creepiest moments for me was discovering that six million Americans had taken Prozac. As a Jew, I had always associated that precise number with something else entirely. How would I come to reinterpret six million, to associate it with something quite different, a statistic that out to be frightening but instead starts to seem rather ridiculous?" (page 342)

Wurtzel, Elizabeth. Prozac Nation. New York: Riverhead Books, 1994, 1995.

2. Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk

As an avid believer in reading the novel before seeing the film, I was eager to pick up this book after hearing all my friends praise for the film. Not to mention, one of my friends is a huge Palahniuk fan and nearly forced me to read it. For all the lovers of the film, all I can say is, this book provides the inner dialogue, the mystery, and confusion that is borne from the narrators POV. The novel is shocking in its rawness, and is surprisingly easy to follow in its smooth writing style. Definately worth the read. 4/5

Random quotes:

"You wake up, and you're nowhere." (Page 33)

"Oh, the proof that one day you're thinking and hauling yourself around, and the next, you're cold fertilizer, worm buffet." (Page 35)

"Don't think of this as extinction. Think of this as downsizing." (Page 125)

Palahniuk, Chuck. Fight Club. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1996.

3. The Tenth Circle by Jodi Picoult

Fans of Picoult will not be disappointed with her newest novel, The Tenth Circle. As a die-hard fan, I found myself devouring this book as I do with all her novels. The story circles around fourteen year old Trixie Stone who finds herself date-raped by her ex-boyfriend Jason Underhill. An investigation is underway, but Picoult is quick to throw kinks in the system. Soon, it becomes very unclear who is lying and who is telling the truth. More importantly, it is even harder to deceipher what the truth is.

Something I really loved about this novel was that Picoult incorperated the panels from her character, Daniel Stone's, graphic novel into her book. Interwoven with chapters, the comic offers insight to the inside of Daniel's mind.

This book will also be greatly loved by any fan of Dante. His Inferno and the discovery of the Nine Circles of Hell (and the additional tenth) is also incorperated into this novel.

As always, Jodi is worth the $15 for the book. 4.5/5

4. "Oedipus Rex" by Sophocles

I read Antigone, the third part of this series, decades ago. So I finally figured I should read the first part since it is also very well known. Oedipus Rex is a story that most people know, and the play is definately an interesting and quick read. Reading (or watching, since it is a play) Oedipus realizing what he has done and how he damned himself is certainly something to keep you reading. If you need a quick fix of good ol' fashion Greek writing, this play will surely do the trick. 3/5

5. A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess

I have read many books, but A Clockwork Orange definately fits into a category all on its own. The novel is truly a brilliant read, something that will captivate and startle you. Burgess takes his time carving out the savagry and brutality that comes so natural to humans. Alex, Our Humble Narrator, is our guide through Burgess' "nightmare vision of the future."

This book is definately not for everyone. It requires a lot of attention and time. Alex, and other characters, use a slang invented by Burgess. My recommendation for anyone who reads this books is to print out an online dictionary of the slang used in this book. I used this site to help me decipher the Nadsat language. Also, be sure to get the version of the novel that contains the "controversial" last chapter, as Burgess intended. In the original American version, the editors removed the last chapter. But if you get a world edition or the Nortan one, it contains the last chapter.

My only warnings for my fellow readers is that there is rape, murder, and brutal scenes of violence in this literature, which may frighten or sicken some. But I think that it is a necessary tool to help reveal the harshness of Burgess' vision. 5/5

Random Lines that "Will Shudder You"

"They were creeching and going ow ow ow as they put their platties on, and they were like punchipunching me with their teeny fists as I lay there dirty and nagoy and fair shagged and fagged on the bed. This young Sonietta was creeching: 'Beast and hateful animal. Filthy horror.' So I let them get their things together and get out, which they did, talking about how the rozzes should be got on to me and all that cal. Then they weree going down the stairs and I dropped off to sleep, still with the old Joy Joy Joy Joy crashing and howling away" (page 46-47).

"And [listening] with different bliss than before, I [saw] again this name on the papper that I'd [ripped] that night, along time ago it seemed, in that cottage called HOME. The name was about a clockwork orange. Listening to the J.S. Bach, I began to [understand] better what that meant now, and I thought, [listening] away to the brown gorgeousness of the [ancient] German master, that I would like to have [beaten] them both harder and ripped them to ribbons on their own floor" (page 33-34)

Burgess, Anthony. A Clockwork Orange. 1962. New York: W. W. Nortan, 1986.

6. MacBeth by Stephen King

Read on a whim. I know, that's like blasphamy to read Shakespeare because you're bored. To be honest, I needed a tiny break from reading It by Stephen King (that novel is so dense, you get completely absorbed with the story... very tiring) so I went for something completely different to cleanse my pallet. And you know what? I actually liked it. As a theatre lover, my peers give me weird looks for not liking Shakespeare, but I don't. He stole everyone elses ideads and most of his stories are exactly the same. But there were some awesome lines in MacBeth and surprisingly, I don't think they were the famous ones. Personal favorite: "what, can the devil speak true?" - Banquo.

Good read, definitely one of the better Shakespeares. 4/5.

7. It by Stephen King

For anyone who has never read this book, It is an incredible read. Every step of the way, you are completely engrossed in each new turn that the book takes, every new leaf that's revealed. Carefully constructed, the plot is extremely intricate but everything fits together to create a gruesome picture of death and evil. The lucky seven guide the readers through the dark history of Derry and the cause of it all: It. It can only be evil, a horrible monster that disguises itself as 'Pennywise the dancing clown' to lure in children for consumption. The Lucky Seven, chosen for reasons unknown, stand together to defeat It and save Derry.

Stephen King is an amazing writer. Stylistically, it is a masterpiece of flashbacks and forewards, with faultless changes in POV. The book isn't for beginners or for those not willing to dedicate time-- it's 1,090 pages long and you feel every word. I'm a speed reader and it took me a month to finish this baby. 5/5-- Everyone should read this book.

8. Lolita by Vladmir Nobokov

Finally finished this one! I have to admit, it was a challenge. For all those who do not speak French, there are parts where you are going to stumble because online translators just don't cover it. I did my best though, and it was totally worth it.

The storyline is pretty well known, the older man who marries a woman in order to get closer to her eleven-year-old daughter, Lolita. The novel was nothing like what I expected... I suppose it is because Lolita was nothing like how I expected. Because it is a classic, some plot points are known, but I still found myself surprised.

Nobokov has an amazing way with imagery, they way he describes places, people, events... are simply stunning. The way the words flow together is pure music, a symphony pouring forth from the lips. Makes writers like me feel quite impotent.

Not my favorite classic, but still worth picking up. 3/5.

Amazing imagery examples:

"a distant hill scrambling outscarred by still untamed- from the wilderness of agriculture that was trying to swallow it."-pg 153
"There was elsewhere, hundreds of grey hummingbirds in the dusk, probing the throats of dim flowers." -pg 157.

9. The Devil Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger

I usually read the book before I watch the movie, but I was dragged to see the movie first. I loved the movie, so I was psyched to read the book. The book was just as entertaining and it was so different from the film, so the movie didn't really spoil anything. It was a lighthearted and easy read, good for anyone who needs something to read on the beach. Something to cleanse your mind, relax, and warm under the sun. 3/5.

10. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Path

What a change from the previous book. I always wanted to read this book and I was so pissed that I wasn't in one of the classes that read it in high school. Every word of praise I ever heard about this book is completely true. I felt like every word related to me somehow, every situation, every pain. It was short for a classic and I felt myself hungering for more of her work. I will definitely go for another Sylvia Plath novel, as I've been reading her poems like a madwoman. Maybe even a biography about her... she's facinating. Definitely worth the time and effort. 5/5.

NOTE: Around this point, I'm too ~~lazy~~ busy to write reviews for the books I've read, so I'm just going to say whether or not I recommended them.

11. Beyond Genetics by Glen McGee (kind of long and winded, only recommended if you're really into genetics)
12. Paint It Black by Janet Fitch (if you liked White Oleander, you will like this. It's amazing. Also good for Jodi Picoult fans)
13. How to Survive a Horror Movie by Seth Grahame-Smith (if you're a horror movie fan, this is good for a laugh.)
14. Perfect by Natasha Friend (Bullemia/Anorexia novel. Good for high school reading level.)
15. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde (classic. hard to get through, put the language is amazing.)
16. The True Story of Hansel and Gretel by Louis Murphy (MUST READ! A page turner, I hated putting it down.)
17. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (She wrote it when she was 19 and her brother in law got the credit. Not at ALL what I expected. For those of you who picture Boris Koloff, this will blow your mind. Really amazing.)
18. Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach (one of the BEST nonfiction books ever. Despite the morbid topic, I couldn't stop laughing. Roach is hilarious and makes puns throughout the whole thing to make the book entertaining and intelligent. MUST READ.)
19. A Model Summer by Paulina Porizkova (Nice light read. A page turner story about love, sex, drugs, and what it means to be beautiful. If the story of Gia interests you, read this).
20. The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini (I was hesitant to read this but found that it was exactly what everyone said it was. Amazing in everyway, heartbreaking, sad, and rings so very true. An amazing look on modern day Afghanistan.)
21. Spoon River Anthology by Edgar Lee Masters (A book that answers a question we all have when we walk amongst stranger's graves: who are the people behind the effigies?)
22. Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kayson (Strange look at insanity. Was a little disconnected and not what I expected, but still had a charming quality to it)
23. The Fuck Up by Arthur Neresian (It's really hard to give a review of this book. It's about how easy it is to keep slipping further and further into your own demise. It struck home for me.)
24. Suburbia by Eric Bogosian (This play frightened me because it was basically my life. I stand outside of a Dunkin Donuts instead of a 7-11, but it was frightening. Anyone who has ever felt trapped by the norm, by the suburbs, by society standards should definitely pick this one up)
25. Buffy, the Vampire Slayer: The Long Way Home by Joss Whedon (This is a collection of the first five comics of the Season Eight Competition. I am really enjoying the season so far- there is a lot of interesting character development. I'm excited to see where Joss takes this)
26. Serenity: Those Left Behind by Joss Whedon (This graphic novel made me so mad that the show was cancelled because it really rubbed in my face how much more could have come out of it. Amazing read and MUST read for any Firefly/Serenity fan)
27. Design Yourself by Karim Rashid (The colorful pages are bound to keep your interest if nothing else does. It's a book about spiffing yp your life but it is definitely NOT self-help. More like a kick in the ass.)
28. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey (If you liked the movie, you need to read the book because it is just so much sicker and very twisted. A dark look into the mental institution system)

List of Books that I Plan on Reading (alphabetical):

- The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Album
- Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert
- Lion in the Winter by James Goldman
- ~~Kite Runner~~ ~~by Khaled Hosseini~~
- Party Monster by James St. James
- ~~Girl, Interrupted~~ ~~by Susanna Kayson~~
- ~~One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest~~ ~~by Ken Kesey~~
- Carrie by Stephen King
- The Cell by Stephen King
- The Shining by Stephen King
- The Stand by Stephen King
- ~~Spoon River Anthology~~ ~~by Edgar Lee Masters~~
- ~~The Fuck-Up~~ ~~by Arthur Neresian~~
- 1984 by George Orwell
- Keeping Faith by Jodi Picoult
- Perfect Match by Jodi Picoult
- Salem Falls by Jodi Picoult
- Thirteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult
- Spook: Science Tackles the After Life by Mary Roach
- The Power of Now by Eckart Tolle
- The Firebrand by Marion Zimmer Bradley
- Bitch by Elizabeth Wurtzel

Round 5 at Fang Fetish

darkinnocent — Sun, 04 Feb 2007 02:06:37 GMT

I was runner up for Best Short Completed at Fang Fetish (Round 5) for Normal (Angelus/Spike/Dawn). You can check out all the Fang Fetish stories at Just Rewards. Thanks to all who voted!