Carny Queen - RP - fortunatetattoo

[watchmakersylar]

Angela’s gone. I’m covered in her blood. It’s in my hair, my eyes and my mouth. Under my nails may never come clean. I may even have some of it in my ears. It was worth it though. That’s one down, and one to go. I won’t go back on my deal with Parkman. His family gets to live, but the Bennets and the Petrellis will be decimated, including precious Peter and darling Claire.

The clothes I came here in our ruined, so I have to dig through the closets and drawers of Angela’s house. In one drawer I find the one thing I wanted the most. My watch. When it’s hooked around my wrist, the rest of my missing memories flood into place.

It takes me a good hour in the shower to get all the blood off of me. For the first time since the Hall of Mirrors, I don’t flinch when I see my reflection. I am me again. The real me, not Gabriel, not Nathan, I am Sylar at last.

I’m not ready to go hunting though not yet. First I need a few more powers. Time travel for one, I have always wanted that, and while Hiro Nakamura’s hard to find, the old man at Sullivan Bros. isn’t. Arnold is first on my Blue Plate Special, and I can’t wait to rip his skull open.

Then there’s Samuel. He thinks he owns me. Broken Gabriel fell for his shit, but I never did. I never would. Being subtle is the key; of course, the best way to take power away from Samuel is to get the Queen and the Knight on my side. Lydia likes me. I could taste it on her, and I’m sure she’s wondering where I’ve gone off to. I can take their powers without killing, but I’ll make it the Sullivan Bros. Buffet if I have to.

(Based on Twitter RP, season4heroesrp and some canon.)

Comments

[sylar.livejournal.com]

It's so hard to keep control. The power of our need is threatening to shut down my brain. I'm being flooded by her wants and desires, and I know she's feeling mine with every thrust.

I pull her with me as I slip back onto my heels, my hands wrapped around her slender waist while I bury my face into the crook of her neck. Each scratch of my beard on her skin makes her tighten around me, and my hand moves down between her legs to tease her from the outside too.

Stroking and pumping, our bodies covered in sweat, skin against skin. I keep expecting the ink from her tattoos to slither from her body onto mine. The colored lights coming through the windows make it look like we're both painted.

She's getting close. My teeth and tongue lave the spot where I drew blood on her while she rakes her broken nails up my thighs. I capture one hand in mine, and suck my blood off her fingers.

[fortunatetattoo.livejournal.com]

I can't keep track anymore of where I end and he begins. It's just one huge ocean of pleasure and I'm being swept under the tide.

His skin is like fire, hot against mine as the friction we're creating threatens to explode. I can't hold back, my vocals increasing with every thrust. I'm begging, crying and praying to a God I don't believe in for something I can't even give a name to. I'm desperate for that release but I never want this to stop.

I'll never go back to how it was with anyone else ever again. Not after this.

My head leans back, twisting so I can share an awkward kiss. i suck his tongue inside, clashing mine against his in rhythm with every stroke of his cock. I'm whimpering, tears stinging my eyes as he fucks me in every single way possible.

His fingers are so talented, plucking at me like I'm the worlds finest violin. Rolling and teasing, the pressure building until it's too much and stars explode in front of my eyes.

"Sylar!" I scream from the very depths of my soul as my orgasm takes me over. My muscles are contracting so hard it doesn't seem like it's ever going to end. I've never felt so much pleasure, I'm quivering clear down to my toes.

My arms reach back, wrapping around the back of his neck. My teeth tear at the corner of his chin, my tongue flicking over the blood soaked stubble i find there. I've got to ride it out, my body cannot stop trembling, he's wringing out the last vestiges of my sanity with every continued thrust.

In the midst of all this insurmountable pleasure, an almost hidden tingle unfurls at my hip bone. The petals of a new blossom uncurling in ink being etched into my skin. My God, he's marked me and I have no idea how.