My Storm - Sylar/(Elle) - PG - [1/1]- Drabble - Heroes
Title: My Storm
Author: force-oblique
Rating: PG
Word Count: 675
Disclaimer: I don't own anything! :P
Characters/Pairings: Sylar/Elle Bishop - Sylar's POV
Spoilers/Warnings: 3x12 mostly and general Sylarelle relationship. It's a take on the scene Sylar killed Elle.
Summary: And I took it all with a smile on my face and the thunder safely kept within. A storm waiting to break out.
I kept it in, while you mocked my dry season inside.
But in reality you were praying for the storm.
My storm.
Author's Notes:This is a piece of writing I barely recognize as mine. It seems filled with allegory and well-hidden rage and violence in equal amounts. But in a sense it's only a waterfall of the psyche...
*slaps self* Ignore me. It all makes sense in the end and it ends fast! lol
~ English is not my native language so excuse mistakes! XD
Dedicated to:
dana-serenity: Because I wanted to tickle your muse and I have missed you sooo much!! ilu
The Whole Sylar/Elle loving Community! ->FTW
Crossposted at heroes-sylar, elle-tric,sylarelle, heroes-fic, heroesfic
My Storm - 1/1
One more look and I know.
Beneath it all you are lying. Your blonde hair, your pink lips, your smiles…all a façade.
Your clear, blue eyes weren’t so clear, after all. But you shook me.
With your words you shook me, promises of acceptance and the scent of freshly baked pie.
I held your hand, you held me hostage.
Hostage to your farce, like a puppet on a string, just waiting for its part in the play.
Waiting to be used because all you did was use me.
And I took it all with a smile on my face and the thunder safely kept within.
A storm waiting to break out.
I kept it in, while you mocked my dry season inside.
But in reality you were praying for the storm.
My storm.
And all the time you were calling on a cloud to darken everything, even if the sun had warmed me up from the inside out.
But I saw it.
I saw your blue lightning- all that time masquerading as benign, normal, trying- careful not to excite my appetite.
And your lightning awakened the skies and all the wrath hidden behind the skies’ gates.
And my storm broke out.
As if I were Thor, safely seated on my throne, behind clouds obstructing my view of things, numb and inactive, till I decided to hammer my way out of my makeshift, self-made prison.
I always knew I could blow the clouds away, but for a minute there I didn’t want to.
I felt good In my disillusionment.
I couldn’t see your lightning and my hunger was dormant, like the dragon who has fed too much.
And it felt comfortable and easy and blissful.
But it seems this was a façade for me, too.
A mask I struggled to keep on, but didn’t quite manage.
It was either too ludicrous or too small for this face of mine and the terror it contained.
So I plastered it on with clay and when your lightning came bringing rain it got washed away, revealing my true self.
My Storm.
I trusted in you for some time, precious time , but now I have my hands tightly around your neck, gripping, squeezing, crushing and you don’t even flinch.
No lightning this time. As if the forces of your nature have been depleted- by what; I can’t tell.
Did your game pain you as well?
No lightning this time. Your blue eyes not energy, but pools of grief, hopelessness and relief? Am I giving you the easy way out?
I don’t care. I want you to choke.
I want to watch as your breath gives way to your soul seeping out of your lungs, your heart, your whole body.
I want to hear the desperate sounds of your throat as I smash it beyond recognition with both my hands and my mind.
I want to see the bruises on your skin, the seal of my handiwork when you meet with death.
I want to kiss your lips as you try to form your final word. What will this word be?
My name, “Sylar” instead of the Gabriel you so manipulated?
“Please” begging me to stop, to show mercy on you?
“Again” mistaking this for a game, expecting me to bring you back with a spill of my blood?
“Finally” as you realize that this is what you had wanted all along?
“Forever” because you will wait for me on the other side, because there we might actually have a chance to be together free of our chains and ghosts and guilt?
Will we be free of our mistakes and bad choices then?
I don’t know.
And I realize that there’s only one thing that has been mine all along. One thing I ever truly owned.
Only one thing that has never failed me, never betrayed me, never caused me anguish.
There’s only one thing that will be mine forever and no one will ever be able to take it away from me.
My Storm…
And watch me unleash it on this world….
~ Fin ~
Comments found Here
Author: force-oblique
Rating: PG
Word Count: 675
Disclaimer: I don't own anything! :P
Characters/Pairings: Sylar/Elle Bishop - Sylar's POV
Spoilers/Warnings: 3x12 mostly and general Sylarelle relationship. It's a take on the scene Sylar killed Elle.
Summary: And I took it all with a smile on my face and the thunder safely kept within. A storm waiting to break out.
I kept it in, while you mocked my dry season inside.
But in reality you were praying for the storm.
My storm.
Author's Notes:This is a piece of writing I barely recognize as mine. It seems filled with allegory and well-hidden rage and violence in equal amounts. But in a sense it's only a waterfall of the psyche...
*slaps self* Ignore me. It all makes sense in the end and it ends fast! lol
~ English is not my native language so excuse mistakes! XD
Dedicated to:
dana-serenity: Because I wanted to tickle your muse and I have missed you sooo much!! ilu
The Whole Sylar/Elle loving Community! ->FTW
Crossposted at heroes-sylar, elle-tric,sylarelle, heroes-fic, heroesfic
My Storm - 1/1
One more look and I know.
Beneath it all you are lying. Your blonde hair, your pink lips, your smiles…all a façade.
Your clear, blue eyes weren’t so clear, after all. But you shook me.
With your words you shook me, promises of acceptance and the scent of freshly baked pie.
I held your hand, you held me hostage.
Hostage to your farce, like a puppet on a string, just waiting for its part in the play.
Waiting to be used because all you did was use me.
And I took it all with a smile on my face and the thunder safely kept within.
A storm waiting to break out.
I kept it in, while you mocked my dry season inside.
But in reality you were praying for the storm.
My storm.
And all the time you were calling on a cloud to darken everything, even if the sun had warmed me up from the inside out.
But I saw it.
I saw your blue lightning- all that time masquerading as benign, normal, trying- careful not to excite my appetite.
And your lightning awakened the skies and all the wrath hidden behind the skies’ gates.
And my storm broke out.
As if I were Thor, safely seated on my throne, behind clouds obstructing my view of things, numb and inactive, till I decided to hammer my way out of my makeshift, self-made prison.
I always knew I could blow the clouds away, but for a minute there I didn’t want to.
I felt good In my disillusionment.
I couldn’t see your lightning and my hunger was dormant, like the dragon who has fed too much.
And it felt comfortable and easy and blissful.
But it seems this was a façade for me, too.
A mask I struggled to keep on, but didn’t quite manage.
It was either too ludicrous or too small for this face of mine and the terror it contained.
So I plastered it on with clay and when your lightning came bringing rain it got washed away, revealing my true self.
My Storm.
I trusted in you for some time, precious time , but now I have my hands tightly around your neck, gripping, squeezing, crushing and you don’t even flinch.
No lightning this time. As if the forces of your nature have been depleted- by what; I can’t tell.
Did your game pain you as well?
No lightning this time. Your blue eyes not energy, but pools of grief, hopelessness and relief? Am I giving you the easy way out?
I don’t care. I want you to choke.
I want to watch as your breath gives way to your soul seeping out of your lungs, your heart, your whole body.
I want to hear the desperate sounds of your throat as I smash it beyond recognition with both my hands and my mind.
I want to see the bruises on your skin, the seal of my handiwork when you meet with death.
I want to kiss your lips as you try to form your final word. What will this word be?
My name, “Sylar” instead of the Gabriel you so manipulated?
“Please” begging me to stop, to show mercy on you?
“Again” mistaking this for a game, expecting me to bring you back with a spill of my blood?
“Finally” as you realize that this is what you had wanted all along?
“Forever” because you will wait for me on the other side, because there we might actually have a chance to be together free of our chains and ghosts and guilt?
Will we be free of our mistakes and bad choices then?
I don’t know.
And I realize that there’s only one thing that has been mine all along. One thing I ever truly owned.
Only one thing that has never failed me, never betrayed me, never caused me anguish.
There’s only one thing that will be mine forever and no one will ever be able to take it away from me.
My Storm…
And watch me unleash it on this world….
~ Fin ~
Comments found Here