watchmakersylar: (Gabriel is still there)
Dear Sylar,

I see you in the mirror everyday when you’re brushing your teeth and pretending to shave. I watch the things you do, and I wish I could make you stop. But you don’t listen to me. You don’t listen to anyone. You’re above all of that. Above having a conscience, above caring that you hurt people because you thrive on jealousy. You like to pretend you do it because you’re better than they are.

But I don’t think you are. You’re still me. No matter how hard you fight me, and how deeply you’ve shoved me into the dark corners of your soul. I’m still here, and I feel sorry for you.

No one loves you, and no one ever will. You’re a monster, and I wish I’d been able to stop you in time.

Someday I’ll get my life back, and won’t you be surprised when that happens? It’s a shame you’ve ruined so much of it.

I don’t hate you. How could I? You’re me, and I’m you. But I don’t like you anymore than anyone else does.

Gabriel Gray

The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (ballcap)
Dear Mom,

I’m sorry I left without much warning, but I was afraid. I’ve done some bad things, very bad, and if I get caught I’ll go to jail. I didn’t want to do them. It was like something else was using me like a puppet.

There was a man named Chandra Suresh. He came into the shop, and he told me I had the potential to be so much more than I was. I jumped at that chance, and I bent over backwards to make him happy. He acted like he believed in me, just like you do. He did tests to see how special I was, and when they didn’t work, he sent me away.

He hurt me, mom. I lost myself in the anger. I know you always said my temper would be the death of me, and you were almost right. Except it was the death of someone else. Actually a few someone else’s, the first one was an accident. I was lost in the want of something that I couldn’t have. Something that Chandra needed me to have, so I took it.

The others had more that I wanted, and I took that too, because Chandra was so pleased when I showed him how special I was now. But I shouldn’t have trusted him, mom. He was going to betray me. He had evidence of my crimes, and he was going to give it to the police.

If I went to jail, I couldn’t take care of you, so I killed him too. Snapped his neck in the cab he drove, and left him to rot there. That’s when I ran away.

I don’t know if I can come back. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m lost, and I miss you.

Forgive me,

The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (Not Amused by your crap)
Dear Parkman,

You didn’t think I’d let you slide after the shit I’ve dumped on Angela and Bennet, did you? I’m recording this message, so you don’t need little Matty to read it to you. I thought about using little words that you might understand, but it’s been ages since I could write at a 2nd grade level.

Honest to fucking god, at what point did you think you were doing a good thing when you went into my head? You knew it was wrong! You knew that it was murder. It made you worse than your father! How could a supposedly good human being, a cop no less, do that to someone lying helpless? Sure I’m a murderer, but who made the three of you judge, jury and executioner?

I will always treasure the look on your fat face when you discovered me hiding in your head. Believe you me I wish I hadn’t been there. Christ your life was worse than Gabriel’s. Could you have spent any more time kissing Janice’s ass?

Not that it wasn’t a fine ass. The woman is hot, and so very kinky. Bet you never knew that. Hell I bet she misses me.

So here we are now. I’m back in my body, and I’ve supposedly found redemption. I’ve given up killing to be a hero. That all may be true, but only time will tell if I can keep control of my hunger now that I’m whole and free.

But not killing doesn’t mean I’m not still a mean son of a bitch. If I ever hear you taking credit for me turning over a new leaf, I will reach down your throat, past the three dozen donuts you’ve got in your stomach and strangle you with your intestines.

Keep this in mind too. The day I decide to give into my baser instincts you are number three on my list. I thought having Bennet be number two was appropriate, and you do not rank as number one.

Hope you enjoy living in fear of the day I come for you.


The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (Up to No Good)
Dear Mrs. Bennet,

You were so sweet to me when I came by to see Claire. Not one ounce of suspicion when I told you what a wonderful boss your husband was, and how much we respected him at the paper factory. I’d have thought that anyone who’d been lied to as much as you have would have caught on a lot sooner that I was up to no good. But you were just too nice, making me iced tea and all like I was a normal guest. Most boss’ wives would have looked down their noses at a grunt in a Primatech uniform, but not you, Sandra.

I have to say I loved the look on your face when I shattered the phone, and I may have experienced a few moments of guilt when I put you into the china cabinet.

I might even have liked your little dog a bit.

Later on when I pretended to be you and caused your marriage to Noah to end, I had so much fun. He was insanely angry when he figured it out, and then when I heard what he did to you when he thought you were me – PRICELESS.

I am sorry you got roughed up that time, Sandra. You are good people, and I do hope you’re enjoying your new found freedom from being married to a lying sack of crap like Bennet.

Give Mr. Muggles a kiss for me. He is so darn cute.


The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (Love Gabe)
You Have My Heart,

That is my promise to you. Every time I look at the ring on my finger, I think about you, and the promise we made to each other. I promise to be there for you. I promise to listen to you. I promise to tell you if I’m hurt and need help. I promise to gut anyone who ever hurts you. I promise to be your brother, your lover, your partner and your friend.

Forever and Always,

The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (Nathan's Skin)
Character: Sylar
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 382
Rating: PG for swearing and meaness
Prompt: Now I waste it, faked it, ate it, now i hate it. - Redundant for [ profile] scifi_muses
Notes: Letter to Angela after the Fifth Stage, season 4 Heroes

Dear Ma Angela,

How about that pie you brought over to Peter’s for Thanksgiving? It was pretty good. Homemade is better, but I realize that Evil Stepmonsters, which is how I think of you now, don’t bake for their children. They might bake their children, but they don’t do nice things for them.

I know you’re going through hell right now. Tell me, please. How long ago did you know I was going to kill Nathan? Long enough that you fed me Bridget on purpose, so I’d have her ability and be able to read Nathan’s memories? Did you play the mommy card with me because of it too, so I’d have a soft spot in my black little heart that belonged to you? I know you’ll never tell me the truth if I asked, and with my lie detection power, I’d be puking by the time you were done spreading your bullshit.

My favorite part in all of this was the look on Peter’s face when I became me again at dinner. It was priceless. I am a bit surprised that the Italian Eagle Scout jumped up to protect you after what you did to him. You made Peter a fucking patsy. He had a right to know that his brother was gone, and guess what, Bitch. The Nathan parts of me hate you for lying to Peter.

That’s right, Angela, Nathan hates you for making Peter think I was him. Hope that gives you comfort at night. You lost Nathan twice. Once when I killed him, and then you lost him again because you abused Peter. It’s a given that I hate you. You are after all the most evil creature to ever live, and I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before Peter pulls his head out of his bleeding heart and sees you for what you are.

He was willing to shoot Arthur, Angela. Pretty soon I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he decides you’re not worthy of his love. I bet you had a dream about that by now too. Then Angela, Mother of Harpies, you will find out what it’s like to be alone in this world just like I am.

Keep my seat warm for me in Hell. I’ll be awhile.


The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (Love Gabe)
Dear Gabriel,

Hey look, another letter to you, little brother. I know it’s a sure sign of how incredibly fucked in the head I am, but my favorite memory will always be you smacking me in the head with that coffee mug when we were fighting about Elle. You were so mad at me, and I admit I was pushing your buttons. I wanted you to see that you deserved better than that whore, but you knew that already. But I still wouldn’t back down. I had to push and push and push until you snapped.

My chin hit the counter, nearly bit clear through my tongue too. Then you did the one thing you hadn’t before. You dug around in my brain for a power while you had me down, your fingers in my brain kept me from healing. I was scared for a few moments that you’d be too lost in the hunger to let me regenerate.

But you did. You let me come back, and I was so mad at you. I remember screaming at you to use my name, backing you into a corner while we smeared my blood all over your floor. I was livid, but we still took care of each other because that’s what we do. We cleaned each other up and the apartment. Then I stayed with you all night.

The only way it could have been better is if I’d kissed you the way I wanted to. I wish I hadn’t been afraid. Stupid isn’t it? I wasn’t afraid of making you angry, but I was afraid to tell you that I was in love with you. Of course I hadn’t realized it until that night either. That’s the real reason it’s special for me. It’s when I stopped turning a blind eye to what was right in front of me all along. The person I needed the most was you.

Forever and Always,

The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (Lips - Shirt)
Dear Gabe,

This is supposed to go to the last person I kissed which is you, but in so many ways you were the first person I kissed as well. Before that first moment when we gave in to our love for each other, I’d never had a real kiss. The others pale in comparison. Hell they weren’t much better than a kiss from mom on the cheek. I was so afraid you’d think I was insane when I kissed you that first time.

With you there is love, there is fire, and there is life. You gave me hope for the future, and the desire to live to see it. I’m not going through the motions anymore. I’m living, and I’m sharing that life with you.

So thank you, for letting me love you. Thank you for saying fuck the morals of convention and doing with me what we want to do. Thank you for giving me someone to spend eternity with who has a brain in their head too. I was so afraid of living forever with someone who couldn’t keep up with me, but you can.

I love you,

For [ profile] graylikeme

The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (I don't understand)
Dear Peter Petrelli,

How many times have you gotten away from me? The first time in Texas, the second time in Mohinder’s apartment when I had you on the wall, and then there was Kirby Plaza where Hiro took me out. I can’t begin to count the times since then when you came for me until the Washington when you shoved that needle into my throat, making it possible for Angela to destroy me.

When you came for me behind Parkman’s wall did you ever ask me why I killed Nathan? I don’t remember you ever asking me why I did anything. To you I was just a rabid animal with no remorse, no regrets, incapable of having a single human emotion. You knew for sure that I wasn’t capable of love.

Well you’re wrong about that. I killed Nathan out of jealousy. You loved him when you wouldn’t give me a chance. When Angela said we were brothers, you loathed me. No matter what I did to make you care about me, you wouldn’t. It was always Nathan before me, and now that I have Nathan’s memories in my head I can see that all from his perspective as well.

We broke out from the Wall when you forgave yourself for making peace with the thing that killed your brother. But I want to know, Peter, should I give you another chance? You say you understand, but do you? Can you be my friend now? Should I open myself up to you?

I’m willing to try, but if you hurt me, I will kill you.


The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (Lydia/Sylar)
Dear Lydia,

I didn’t know what to make of you when I finally saw you through my own eyes. I was so broken when I met you. Those first few hours at the carnival I was lost. I couldn’t remember who I was, and Nathan’s memories were so strong. He was the one who knew what to do with you, how to act, how to flirt, how to be a bad boy as Edgar called me.

The real me, I wouldn’t have known what to do. Gabriel would have stammered and blushed until he fainted. He didn’t have a clue about girls, and a beautiful woman like you would have scared him to death.

Me, Sylar, I’d have frozen up too. I didn’t have a lot of experience. I still don’t. But you helped me find myself. You weren’t the whore – and I hate to use that word – that Samuel treated you like. You came with me because you wanted to, not because he forced you. I know that now, because I was healed by you.

I think about you often. I miss you so very much. You honestly did ruin me for all other women. There will never be another like you.

All my love,

the Letter blog
watchmakersylar: (DIAF - ELLE)
Dear Elle,

You lying sack of shit. I am so disgusted that I fell for your lies. I swear it’s one of the biggest reasons that I don’t let Gabriel out of his corner of my brain. How the fuck did someone as smart as I am believe one word that came out of your mouth? You destroyed any chance I had at being human.

How you lied to me, let me list the ways:

1 – You came into the Shop to con me into falling for your big blue eyes. As if any girl that looked like you would pay attention to Gabriel.

2 – Pie. You bribed me with FOOD, with pie! You bitch!

3 – The jealousy card. At least if you were going to force feed me a special and drive me to murder, couldn’t he have had a good power to steal? For fuck sake, what did I need Trevor’s stupid power for anyway when I already have telekinesis? I should have killed you!

4 – You tried to kill me at Mohinder’s! I was broken! I had no powers, and you tried to shoot me! By the way you are a lame shot, Princess. Why didn’t you zap me?

5 – So we meet again at Pinehearst, and do you tell me that Arthur and Angela are lying to me about being my parents? NO!!! You let me believe that bullshit. Where’s the love and trust there, baby?

6 – The car rental guy? Seriously, Elle, did you have to punch all my buttons again? Did you get off on getting Dorkwad to try to protect you from the serial killer? I was playing Arthur, Elle. I’m not stupid.

7 – Then the eclipse hit, and I apparently lost my mind. Can’t believe I wasted time fucking you on the floor of that house. Nice of Bennet to wait until we were done before he started shooting though, but then Bennet did like watching us together, didn’t he?

8 – The fact that I died to protect you shows how out of my mind I was. It showed me that you were a weakness that the Gabriel part of me felt a need to save. So you were a liability I couldn’t afford.

I did enjoy killing you on the beach. You were so sure I was going to do you on the sand. Sorry it wasn’t the way you wanted me to.

By the way, thanks for the phone. That list of targets was really helpful.

Glad you’re dead,

PS - I thought of one good thing about you. You weren't Maya.

The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (Confused)
Dear Person Who Wrote This Meme,

What does “Someone that pesters your mind – good or bad” mean? Do you mean write a letter to someone who is on your mind often? Do you mean write a letter to someone who annoys you? Although if they annoy you, that can’t be a good or bad situation.

Some of these daily prompts are so much like another one, that I’m having a hard time coming up with people to send them to too. I mean someone you used to love and someone who broke your heart – kind of the same thing.

Do you speak English? Were 30 prompts too much for you to come up with?

So there you go, person who wrote this meme, you are pestering my mind, and not in a good way.


The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (BW & Smexy)
Dear Me,

I am the person I wish I could be. I’m so smug and arrogant that they’ll be putting pictures of me next to the definitions in the Oxford English Dictionary. Google searchrs for evolution and special come up with my name too.

I am all that and a big fucking bag of chips.

Gotta love me.

I know; I do.


The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (Gabriel is still there)
Hey Danny,

Hope you’re doing OK. I was sitting around the other night when I felt the need to watch Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. I still love that movie, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how much fun we had ditching school to go see it.

I remember how you had it all planned out. You knew what buses we’d need to take to get to a theater outside of the neighborhood while I figured out the best plan to not get caught by my mom or the nuns. Somehow we managed to pull it off. Mom never found out. The school never turned us in either. Of course it probably helped that we were two of the good boys who didn’t make trouble unless you’re counting having the snot kicked out of us by the jocks.

I doubt you’d recognize me now. I’ve changed so much. I’m not the nerd with the birth control glasses waiting to be shoved in my locker anymore. No one messes with me. I like it just fine too. It’s better to be at the top of the food chain instead of the appetizer.

I’m sorry that I’m not giving you a return address, but there are people out there looking for me. I don’t want them to force that information out of you if you had it. Believe me, they could force you. The Empire has nothing on these guys when it comes to getting what they want. They don’t care who gets hurt, but I do. I don't know what you're heard about me, Danny, but I didn't kill my mother. I could never do that, and I know that you believe me when I say that. I bet you told the cops that too if they asked you.

Maybe I’ll be able to see you for real someday. I know I’d like that. It’s been what ten years?

I have been and always shall be, your friend,


The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (Cookies?)
Dear Molly,

I’m not sure what I want to say to you. I’m not sorry that I killed your parents. I mean if I hadn’t done that, you’d have never gotten to live in New York with those losers Mohinder and Parkman. You’d have never been shipped off to India, and barely remembered by your two loving fathers. I mean sorry, kid, but the second Mohinder saw Maya and Parkman saw the blonde chick with the weird hair it was all over for you. You just weren’t important to them anymore.

I hope you’re having a ball in India. I did hear that you came stateside for awhile, helping out Rebel. Sorry I missed you, but you’re still too young for me. You see, Molly, I still want your power, and someday I’ll get it.

And your little dog too.

All my love,
The Bogeyman

PS – I didn’t appreciate it at all that you were more afraid of Maury than me.

The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (Finger Painting)
Dear Mom,

I am so sorry for what happened. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It was an accident, and I wish people would believe me. But they don’t. They don’t understand that someone like me could care about anyone. They don’t think that I was capable of loving you, but I did. I still do.

Sure you drove me crazy, but that’s what mothers do. You wanted the best for me. You didn’t want me to settle for the life I was living. I was under so much pressure from you, from Chandra, from the games Bennet was playing on me that I snapped. But hurting you was never part of my plan.

I wanted you to be proud of me. I wanted you to be amazed by me. I never wanted you to be afraid of me. When you looked at me that night with such hatred in your eyes, it destroyed me. I know now that I wasn’t who you were looking at. You were looking at my father, my real father, Samson. You tried so hard to keep me from turning out like he did, and when I did you hated me for being weak.

I hate myself too. I wanted to die for hurting you, and for a very long time the part of me that was your son was dead. I tried to never let Gabriel free again, but he’s back now. He misses you, and so do I.

You weren’t the best mother in the world, but you did your best. You loved me, and I’m so sorry I killed you.

I miss you, mom. I'm sorry I couldn't be the angel you wanted me to be.


The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (Pondering)
Letter to [ profile] lizfirestarter

Dear Liz,

I don’t have many friends in this world. Hell I can count them on one hand, and ever since I quit working for the Company a huge chasm has appeared between us. I was so hurt by the things Scully told me that went on at the Company when I walked. To hear that you and Jack thought I would start running amok, treating you all like an all-you-can-eat buffet showed me how little faith you had in me. Did it ever occur to you, that I could have been running willy-nilly through the halls all along, and there wasn’t jack squat any of you could do about it?

But I didn’t because I’m not like that anymore. Scully knows it. She still believed in me. Instead of panicking, she came to see me. She found out about Gabe, and she knew that I wasn’t the one who killed my secretary.

I know we had a bit of a disagreement when Krycek took over the new Company too, because I found out what Jack did to you and Scully. I’m sorry, but that asshole hurt two of the people I care about – you and Dana. He is lucky I haven’t found a way to end him permanently, or that I don’t spend days on end killing him over and over again for fun.

Do you know why I don’t? Because you love the bastard. You could do so much better. You came to my house after it was all over, when Gabe and I finally felt like we could have company over, but you barely spoke to me. I don’t know if our friendship can ever be repaired, but I trusted you Liz. I trusted you to believe in me, and you let me down.

Your friend,

the Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (Peter/Sylar Lips)
I'm not quite cheating on this one, but I've already written the perfect letter for #13.

I'm Sorry Peter

The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (Agent Gray)
Character: Sylar
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 443
Rating: PG
Prompt: Bruce Wayne: I'm not afraid of you. [ profile] scifi_muses
Notes: Letter Meme and muse prompt fulfillment.


I almost wrote this letter to Angela, because she is the cause of so much pain and misery in my life. But I decided that you deserve it more because for all her twisted evil machinations, Angela at least takes responsibility for her own actions. You always fall back to blaming the Company for yours.

It was always the Company told me to do it. The Company told me to set you up, Gabriel. The Company told me to send Elle into your shop to manipulate you into murdering someone again when you were perfectly happy to kill yourself. The Company made me evil made me walk the fine line of gray.

Well to that, Bennet, I say bullshit.

You’re a man of above average intelligence. You’re more than capable of making your own choices in life, and you should have known better. You helped Chandra make me what I am, and then you play the family card when the Company excuse doesn’t work.

You hurt my daughter! Waa! Waa! Waa! Well guess what, Noah! SHE CAN’T DIE. Short of cutting her empty little head off and keeping it far, far away from her body, nothing I did to her is permanent. For all I know you’d end up with two little Claire-Bears if I did that, one growing from the head and the other from the body. Shame there’d still only be one fucking brain cell between the two of them.

So I traumatized her a little when I stalked her through your house, but I said I was sorry. I don’t apologize often, and I never do it unless I mean it. You on the other hand couldn’t tell the truth to God himself. You lie even when your lips aren’t moving.

You’re a bigger monster than I’ll ever be. I didn’t betray you when Angela made us partners. I’m not the one who was plotting ways to kill you. Hell I saved your fucking life when they had you in that bank. But you couldn’t see past the monster, the man you made me.

How about you do something different, Noah? Accept some responsibility for your mistakes. Admit that you’re the one who made a monster. You’re the one who destroyed your family.

By the way, where did Larry get to? Did you ship him off to military school or something? Must have made him feel good that Claire was so much more important than he was for you, and Mr. Muggles was more important to Sandra than he was too.

I don’t want you dead, Noah. I want you to suffer for as long as humanly possible.


The Letter Blog
watchmakersylar: (Prophecy)
Character: Sylar
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 407
Rating: PG
Prompt: Detective Del Spooner: Can a robot write a symphony? Can a robot turn a... canvas into a beautiful masterpiece?
Sonny: Can *you*? for [ profile] scifi_muses
Notes: Letter Meme and muse prompt fulfillment.

Hello Isaac,

I can’t help but think about you every time I see a splash of crimson paint or splatter of blood. Your power is amazing. To be able to paint the future was an incredible gift, and how did you use it, drawing fucking comic books. You could have done so much better for yourself.

Of course you were screwed by your addictions. I know what that’s like too. The killing and collecting are what I’m addicted to. I need them to thrive, to become more. I wonder if you understood that, when you pretty much rolled over and showed throat to me, when I came to your studio. You were so eager to die, so that you wouldn’t have to see the future or face the failures of your past.

I think we could have been friends or at least allies in our mutual hatred of Peter Petrelli. He got in my way, taking what I had to fight to get just like how he slipped between you and Simone. He got her between the sheets quickly enough didn’t he? Now she’s dead because of him. Are you together now, Isaac? Did she love you enough to wait such a short time for you, or is her gossamer shadow trailing after Puppytrelli?

The visions of the bomb terrified me too, Isaac. I was so afraid that I’d be the one to murder all of those people, but it wasn’t me. That’s what you couldn’t see, but I could. I even called Mohinder to beg for his help, but he wouldn’t listen. When it came to me in my mother’s blood, I knew what I had to do.

The bomb was Peter. It wasn’t me. I was the one who could stop him. That’s what my purpose was in all of this. I was the one who could take Ted’s power and use it to keep Peter from exploding. But you didn’t put that in your comic, did you? Oh no, you could only draw Hiro stabbing me, keeping me from my destiny to be the hero.

I’ve lost your ability, but I wouldn’t mind finding it again. I’d take a few art classes first this time though. I’d want my art to be as beautiful as yours.

Hope you’re painting up a storm wherever you are.


PS: It’s true. A dead artist’s work is worth so much more than when they are alive.

The Letter Blog


watchmakersylar: (Default)
Sylar - Gabriel Gray

July 2012

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