IT'S HOT .... in topeka.

A Faerie Buzz?

2009-08-04T12:31:23Z

Srsly, lab ray. What am I going to do with that shit? DAMN YOU, AQUATIYA. failpet.

darigan chomby plz.

2009-03-25T05:37:50Z

DARIGAN CHOMBY.

WANT.

Sylaire Ficcathon: "Simple Job"

2008-10-20T18:46:54Z

Title: Simple Job
Author: bevira
Written for: ever_obsessed
Rated: R
Summary: Angela leaves Claire with a simple job --- guard Level 5 for a night.
Warnings: Violence, sex, language.
A/N: Whee! I had a lot of fun with this one. I hope you guys enjoy it! Any critiques are appreciated. I'm still getting back into the feel of writing. I also had no beta on this. Ignore any spelling or weird typos. SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3.

“It’s a simple job, dear. You said you wanted to help stop villains, well, why don’t you start with helping us watch over the ones who have already been apprehended? Prove your worth. Then … we’ll begin your field training.”

Claire’s eyes moved to the face of Angela Petrelli, the woman she knew for a fact to be of no real blood relation to her - what with Nathan being Arthur’s son and the other boys being Angela’s children from previous entanglements. But, still … the woman held an eerie maternal hold over her that she couldn’t seem to break. At this point, she didn’t want to.

Sandra couldn’t understand what it was to be special. Meredith had experienced too much and had been too warped by it to help her in a loving, guiding manner. She needed someone wizened and experienced to help her on this path. Angela was the person to do it. Claire felt it.

“And you promise I’ll become a full-fledged agent if I can do this?”
“Of course. Have a good night, Claire.” And, with that, she placed a kiss to the forehead of the blonde girl and left the concrete hallways of Level 5.

As Claire sound herself alone and in a position of power over men who had done terrible things, she found she liked it. Her sneakers scuffed against the floor as she strolled up and down the hallway. Occasionally, she’d pause before a window to toss a fleeting smile at an occupant or, if they looked particularly aggressive, to raise that tazer gun of her’s and give it a little taunting shake.

They cursed her. Screamed at her. Threatened to kill her. Rape her. Rip her to shreds. Claire was unafraid. She had stopped being afraid long ago. She could feel no pain.
Then she came to Sylar’s cell. He had heard the commotion and it seemed to amuse him more than anything. He was seated upon his bed with upon leg tucked to his chest and the other hanging lazily off the edge. His chin nestled upon the kneecap and a smirk was ever-present on his lips.

Claire was at a loss for a moment. It was easy enough to figure out how to push the buttons of the other prisoners. But … how to intimidate a man like Sylar? That was tricky. She placed the edge of her pointer finger’s nail into betwixt those lips and nibbled upon it in thought. And that was when she noticed just how intently he watched her.

“You’re special.”

That was what he had told her that day in Costa Verde. He had taken the time to place the severed part of her skull atop her head and bring her back to life … as well as save her from Canfield’s black hole.

Even with the fingertip in her mouth, a smile began to form. She may not be able to get a rise of anger out of him, but she was sure she could get his heart racing in other ways. Her hand fell to her side and that pretty pink tongue lashed from her mouth, rolling over each glossed tier. A test … and one that confirmed her suspicions. She could see it in his eyes now --- the way they almost seemed to glaze over and the way he shifted.

“Bet you’d love to fuck me.” Her fingers trailed to the top of the seafoam green v-neck she was wearing. One of those nails hooked into the edge and began to pull at it, revealing that perky, yet modest, cleavage of her’s … before releasing the fabric and allowing it to fall back into place. “But you won’t. Because you’re a murderer.”

A laugh left her lips as she continued down the hallway and Sylar slammed his hand angrily against his bed. He was pissed --- not only at Claire, but at himself. A weakness had been uncovered and it made him feel less like Sylar and more like Gabriel. His mother would say that was a positive step, but … this wasn’t the kind of weakness he wanted.
“Just wait, Claire-Bear,” he whispered.

A half-hour passed and, after a while, she became bored to tormenting the tormentors. Thus, she collapsed into a chair and chose to merely observe. This job was easy enough. Really, she didn’t see why it couldn’t be done via security cameras.

Then, it happened.

One of the doors burst open and a rather burly man came charging out. Max Lowell, a man with the power of enhanced strength, and an all-around mean son-of-a-bitch. Claire was beginning to regret taunting him. How had he gotten out?! Before she could even react, he was on. He knocked her right out of her chair with enough force to send her flying against a wall. She heard the familiar crunch out bones breaking and blood splattering as her body connected with the concrete.

She didn’t even want to thing of how many things had broken. For the first time since her encounter with Sylar, she was thankful she couldn’t feel. Especially when the man leapt on her and began to hammer his fists into her ribs, breaking every single one until the jagged edges protruded from the flesh.

The man must not have known about her. Claire laid perfectly still in a state of mock-death and he seemed satisfied with that. In fact, he began to laugh his malicious laugh.

That came to a sudden end when she whipped out her tazer and stuck it right into his side. The initial sting of the volts was enough to get him off of her. Cranking it up to full-force was enough to not only send him into unconsciousness, but it cause his heart to stop beating altogether.

As her flesh began to knit itself back to its state of perfection, Claire was still unaware of what she had just done. It was only when she sat up and checked the pulse of Lowell that she realized she had just become a killer.

Yet … there was no remorse. No sympathy. This man had deserved it. He was a villain.
“And you called me a murderer,” a taunting voice remarked as another cell door opened. Sylar strolled out in his Company-issue clothes. He leaned against the door frame, his arms folded over his chest.

Claire scurried to her feet and pointed her weapon at him angrily. “Did you let him out?! Was this you?!”

“No. This was my mother. Claire … this was your test.” He closed the distance between himself and the petite woman. A hand fell to her shoulder, remaining there as he moved before her. Her nose buried itself within those locks of fine blonde. They smelled green tea. It made his body shudder with excitement. She was special even prior to this moment, but watching her kill Lowell had been divine. “She left my cell unlocked so I could step in if you needed help.”

“Such a momma’s boy, aren’t you?” She sneered.

“Mm. Seems to me you were quite the daddy’s girl until recently.”

Claire’s jaw tensed. Her mind went back to that night at the carousel. That was the night when her relationship with her father had become fractured -- when she had decided to take her own path instead of deciding to follow her own. Sylar had a lot to do with that.

Why had she fought to save his life when he had scarred her own so badly? And why did she now find herself loving the way his hand felt upon her body? He could understand … That’s what he did. He picked apart things … He understood.

But at the same time, she wanted to pick him apart. Break him down. She wouldn’t be just his toy.

When she felt his hands on her hips, she didn’t object. In fact, those jean-clad legs came to wrap around his waist as he walked them back to his cell. She thought they were headed for the bed, but instead, she found herself suddenly throw to the wall and pinned there by a telekinetic force. She felt the same knife-like edge cutting away her clothing moments later, revealing her body to him.

“We’re not going to do it like this.” She said firmly.

“Yes. We are.”

“No … because if you keeping going after I’ve said no, it’ll be rape … and I’ll tell your mother just that. She’ll be oh-so-disappointed. Won’t she?”

Sylar gritted his teeth and suddenly released all grip he had over her. Her body fell unceremoniously to the cell’s floor a bit roughly. But Claire could handle it. She was standing again, albeit it in just her pink bra and matching panties. “And how do you want to do it, Claire-Bear?”

“My way.”

“And who made you the boss?”

“I did. Or else I’m leaving. You wouldn’t want that, now would you?”

He wanted to throw her out. Make her march back to Angela’s office in nothing but that damn lingerie. But he couldn’t. He was too enamored. Too entrapped. “… Fine.”

“Sit on the bed.”

He did just sat, his eyes never once leaving her.

She moved over to the man she had once held so much hate for. He wasn’t exactly at her list of favorite people, but it had moved from utter hatred to resentment with a side of infatuation. She hooked her fingers into the waist of those gray pants as well as the boxers he wore beneath. As she pulled them down, she gave those hips a tempting sway from side to side which would get the approval of any stripper. It was amazing what one could learn from watching cable TV.

With his lower body exposed to the air, his throbbing member was exposed to her. Claire had never seen one firsthand, though she didn’t let any of that inexperience show on her face. Of course, the man had picked her brain. She was sure he knew he was a virgin. If he didn’t know that way, simply knowing Noah Bennet was her father was another way to deduce that fact.

After taking off her own panties she slung them teasingly over his shoulder, a fact Sylar didn’t seem to appreciate. In fact, he made it a point to show her this wasn’t the wisest thing to do by using his telekinetic abilities to removing the garments and hook them around a small vent in the upper portion of the room where she couldn’t reach them later on. “A keepsake,” he remarked.

“Creepy.”

He shrugged.

His arms then wrapped around Claire’s waist and lifted her up. She was swung around so that she was laid down upon that ‘bed’ of his. It was more like an exam table - not the most comfortable thing - but it worked. She didn’t struggle. In fact, she grinned. It was then that he knew that she wanted this as much as he did.

“You are special,” he purred into her ear as his hips angled up with that dripping snatch. With one thrust, he penetrated her virgin passage. The tightness around him was simply heavenly. It must have felt good for Claire, as well, because she was singing praises beneath him. The coos and whimpers she was making were something he’d commit to his memory forever -- even without the power he’d lost due to the Virus.

“Jealous because I achieved it so effortlessly?” Claire gasped between her moans. She had come across Sylar’s file. She knew about him. She also knew how to get to him. Her words earned her a rather rough thrust which made her cry out louder.

“A tad,” he grunted. His hands braced themselves on either side of Claire’s head and his gyrations began to increase in speed and force. He felt the young woman’s manicured nails move to his back and dig into his flesh, eliciting a hiss from him. The wounds healed up almost immediately and the twinges of pain mixed with pleasure only fueled him on.

“You’re beautiful when you’re getting fucked by a murderer.” He whispered between ragged breaths.

“You’re beautiful when you’re fucking a murderer.” Her nails dug in deeper. She refused to let his words move her. She would not be the toy. She would not only have him, but she would have control over his mind. He had picked her mind once … it was her turn. She knew that with each arch of her back off of that table, she came closer to fully having him. Then, her inner walls clamped down around him like a vice as a flood of warmth escaped her inner core. Simultaneously, a yell of pleasure escaped Sylar’s mouth as his seed let loose within the young woman.

Sweaty and flushed bodies rested against one another for what seemed like hours - his face buried in her hair and her fingers trailing along his back. Finally, he spoke. “I suppose now’s a good time to tell you that you’re replacing your father.”

“Am I?” Claire asked lazily. There was a time when her heart would ache, but now she only felt pride. Her dad didn’t understand people with abilities. She did. She could help them better than he ever could. “Who’s going to be my partner?”

“I meant replacing him as my partner.”

At this, she lifted her head so that those green eyes of her‘s could peer into his deep browns. “I thought it was one of us, one of them.”

“Normally it is … but considering the one-of-them has tried to kill me because he doesn’t understand me … we’re making an exception.” A hand possessively moved to the back of Claire’s head and moved to back to rest of his shoulder.

“This place doesn’t have an no inter-office sex policy, does it?”

“No.”

“Good.” Claire grinned.

NEWSFLASH.

2008-10-18T23:08:55Z

I'm cold.

I also have a new journal theme. I feel cute.

That is all.

Sylaire Ficcathon: "Why'd I Do It?"

2008-09-29T19:51:17Z

Title: Why'd I Do It?
Author: bevira
Written for: liam22
Rated: PG-13
Summary: Sylar whisks Claire away before she makes the biggest mistake of her life, but wonders if it might be one of the biggest mistakes of his.
A/N: First time I've written a fic in a long, long time. Also did this without a beta. Hope it's okay. Also, beware -- SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3 THUS FAR.

---

“Why’d I do it?” Sylar thought to himself.

Tick … tick … tick.

“This is your fault.”

Tick … tick … tick.

“Entirely.”

Tick … tick … tick.

“Why? Why couldn’t we just take a plane like a normal couple or -- would you stop staring at that clock!?”

To say the words of the pretty blonde in the white gown before him snapped him from his gaze would be a lie. Instead, her words seemed to lazily draw his eyes away from the tall clock tower in the middle of the otherwise modern plaza in the heart of bright Tokyo. “We didn’t take a plane because when I killed Nakamura last year, I never got a chance to properly test his power -- forgive me if I missed the mark by a litt-”

“We’re in Tokyo.”

“Not that far off from Paris.”

“Tokyo and Paris are very far off and you know it! We’re lucky we’re even in the same time frame!”

A hand rose to his temple and he rubbed it. He had a headache coming on. He was beginning to wish he had left her at the altar. Sure … the stolen nights and the secret looks they gave each other had been fine; but actually spending time with Claire Bennet was starting to get on his nerves. Fast. “ -- And I’m staring at that clock before it’s a whole two minutes off.”

He rose from his seat, gracefully waving a hand as he did so. The minute hand upon the clock he was so fascinated with wound back to the proper time and, like a load off his shoulders, he was satisfied.

And Claire rolled her eyes. “Good. The clock’s fixed. Now … Care to tell me where our suitcases are?”

“… Paris?”

---

Shopping in Tokyo. Blech. Everything was so … loud. Claire loved it. The woman was practically giddy at the sight of the Yamamoto store, as well as the other designers in the area. However -- there was one problem. When Sylar took out his wallet and looked into it, all he saw were American bills. Lots of them, due to some creative tricks he’d picked up with his powers over time … but still. American.

“I'm freezing time.” He said.

“What?!”

“It’s easy. I’m doing it.”

“Don’t! You already messed us up once tonight playing around with your powers! Sylar!”

But his mind was set. He closed his eyes and when they opened, Tokyo had come to a stop. As had Claire, frozen in the angry yell she had been spouting at him. He gave her forehead a little poke, tracing over the line he had cut there so long ago. Then, a finger dropped to her lips. He wondered if he should just leave her this way.

“Why did I do it?” He asked himself. It would have been easy to let that man -- boy, really -- marry Claire. Some businessman from Boston. Young, charming … Normal and boring. It would have been so easy, or so he told himself. When he first began to take powers, he had told himself that was the only time he felt special --- the only thing he could do to make himself happy.

That had changed on that rainy Boston night when, while walking down the street, he happened to witness an ever-clumsy Claire fall and bust her leg … only to get right back up. She hadn’t cried or even grunted. Of course she hadn’t … He had taken that long ago. He had followed her. Watched her.

Sad little smile. Green eyes. Cuddled on the couch with her dog -- not Mr. Muggles, but a Pomeranian. The girl had seemed so … detached. Not like the cheerleader he had first encountered. Some of her fire had gone out, or perhaps he had aided in smothering it.

He had gone in … and taunted her. Okay, maybe it had been a little immature. But after she shoved a fire poker through his shoulder and smacked him in the head with a heavy paperweight several times, they made progress.

After that … he followed her. Her father wasn’t around anymore. Either of them. She had no one. Her uncle .. Peter … he was off ‘saving the world.’ Who else was going to watch out for her? Surely not the silly businessman who really thought Claire’s tussled hair was really part of a new deconstructed fashion statement.

Then came the news. She was marrying the Bostonian -- that was all Sylar would call him. The man wasn’t even deserving of a name. His reaction to the news hadn’t exactly been tasteful. “Can we still sleep together?”

She’d smacked him and told him to leave. He’d shrugged and done so.

Yet, not really. He’d stuck around, using the chameleon power he’d picked up from some poor soul years ago. No. He didn’t feel good about himself. He watched as the wedding plans were made. Watched Claire try on her dress. Watched her pick out her veil and flowers. Watched her cry into her pillow.

He knew he had to make a move.

---

He gathered thousands of dollars worth of clothing, stuffing them into stolen Louis Vuitton suitcases.
He also stole some local currency from the cash register before, at last, returning to the still-frozen Claire on the street, his bags falling telekinetically behind him. They settled at their feet and then -- Boom -- everything came back to life.

“Don’t! It’ll j- .. Oh, you did it, didn’t you?” She frowned … but it softened when she realized little had changed and they now had suitcases. So, with a side of submission, she grabbed the pink suitcases -- since she somehow doubted Sylar had picked them for himself -- and started down the street.

“You’re welcome, Claire-Bear,” he purred in satisfaction. He loved being right.

“HEY! SPOCK! WHOOO!” Yelled the excited, Japanese-accented voice of a young man.

Sylar turned, just in time to have a camera flash go off in his face. In his past life, he had been nerdy enough to understand that reference … but he wasn’t copping to it now. Not in front of his former-cheerleader lover. Not when she was looking at him so confusedly. All he could do was shrug his shoulders and rubbed his stinging eyes. “The Japanese -- they’re weird.”

“… yeah.”

---

“Why did you get me so many pink things?” Claire asked from the bed of their hotel suite. She had tugged off the white silk stockings she had worn to the wedding and, instead, was tugging on a pair of pink knee-socks with white polka dots upon them.

“I like you in pink. It makes you look innocent.”

“I’m not.”

“I know.”

A grin was sent to Claire as he moved to the bed and took a seat on its edge. He had changed out of his clothes and into a pair of black boxer shorts. He reached down and took hold of Claire’s cloth-covered foot and gave it a quick tug, causing her to fall onto her back on the mattress. He then released it so that he could lay back next to her.

This was nice. It always was. He liked the way his temple felt pressed against her own.

“Why’d I do it?”

“Which ‘it’? You do a lot of things beyond my comprehension … You’re going to have to specify.”

“Take you away from your wedding. Bring you here. Why did I do it, Claire?”

“Oh. Because you love me.” It was answered without hesitation. The answer came so easily for Claire because she had known for some time but it made Sylar sit right up and glare at her. This only made her smirk more. “When you’re creeping around my apartment, wear less cologne … I can smell you.”

He settled back into the bed. He didn’t know why he was so surprised. When he had picked her brain long ago, he had seen the answers to so many questions. And Claire … she was special. If he had to love someone, at least it was her. So, with a grunt of reluctant submission to the whole idea, he curled her arms around her upper body and rested his head upon her breasts. The ticking of a clock had always been soothing to him, but so was the thub-dub of Claire’s heart.

“Thub-dub, thub-dub, thub-dub.”

“Claire?”

“Hm?”

“Your wedding dress. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste. Tomorrow … let’s get married.”

“Is that your idea of proposing?” She teased as her fingers played with his slicked back hair. Then, she looked down at her finger and noticed the glint of a diamond ring upon it. A stolen gem, certainly … but she could overlook that simply because it had come from him.

“No. That is.” He smirked. “See? One can do amusing things when they can freeze time.”

A laugh escaped Claire’s lips -- perhaps the first one not tainted with sadness in years. She then kissed the top of his head and settled back into the bed. That was the way they spent the rest of their night -- him listening to the beat of her heart and her watching the way the light caught her gem.

blahhhraaaagh.

2008-09-25T18:43:55Z

I feel like my lungs are trying to diiiiiiiiiiie.

:O

I go to the doctor's tomorrow.

Gah. I hate working in a daycare sometimes. I love the kids ( most of them ) but I get all their germs.

Lara Croft Classic Commercials - Bud

2008-04-10T00:33:10Z

Karate Slow Motion

2008-03-27T06:33:30Z

Morse qui danse du Michael Jackson

2008-03-27T06:33:24Z

miss tandi dupree

2008-03-14T20:22:53Z

Smell Yo Dick

2008-02-18T03:51:14Z

iTunes shit.

2008-02-17T00:28:06Z

THE Rules:
Go to your music player of choice and put it on shuffle.
Say the following questions aloud, and press play.
Use the song titles that come up to answer each question.
NO CHEATING.

1.How does the world see me?
"Unwritten" - Natasha Bedingfield.

2. Will I have a happy life?
"I Want You Back" - Jackson 5

3. What do people really think of me?
"Borderline" - Madonna.
>_> LO-Fucking-L iTunes.

4. Do people secretly lust after me?
"Girlfriend" - Avril Lavigne.

5. How can I make myself happy?
"I Won't Say (I'm in Love)" - Hercules OST

6. What should I do with my life?
"Wonderful Life" - Gwen Stefani

7. Will I ever have children?
"Boogie Wonderland" - Earth, Wind, and Fire.

8. What is some good advice for me?
"Bubble Pop Electric" - Gwen Stefani

9. What do I think my current theme song is?
"Talk Dirty to Me" - Poison.
Roooooooooooowr!

10. What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
"Hotel California" - The Eagles

11. What song will play at my funeral?
"Part of your World" - The Little Mermaid OST

12. What is my day going to be like?
"Seasons of Love" - RENT OBC.

13. Why am I here?
"Hey Ya!" - Outkast

14. What will people remember me for?
"Beat It" - Michael Jackson

15. What song will I get stuck in my head tomorrow?
"Outsiders" - Franz Ferdinand

16. Are there people outside waiting to take me away?
"The Salmon Dance" - Chemical Brothers

17. What will this year be all about?
"Hit Me With Your Best Shot" - Pat Benatar

18 - If you reached the top of Mount Everest, you would scream:
"A.B.C." - Jackson 5

19 - The next time you stand up in front of a group of people, you'll say:
"Cold Turkey" - John Lennon

20 - Your message to the world:
"Paint it Black" - The Rolling Stones

21 - Your deepest secret:
"Clint Eastwood" - Gorillaz

22 - Your innermost desire:
"Another Night" - Real McCoy

23 - Your oldest memory makes you think:
"Cupid's Chokehold/Breakfast in America" - Gym Class Heroes.

24 - Somewhere in your wedding vows, you'll include:
"The Meek Shall Inherit" - Little Shop of Horrors OBC.

25 - When you wake up in the morning, you mutter:
"I'm Free" - The Who

26 - Right now, your feelings are:
"Geek" - MC Chris.
Hah! XD Always.

27 - The day you fall in love will be the day that:
"Blue (Da Ba Dee)" - Eiffel 65

28 - You scream during sex:
"He Can Only Hold Her" - Amy Winehouse

29 - Your farewell message to the readers of this:
"You'll Be In My Heart" - Phil Collins.
xD Lol.

Flight of the Conchords-Robot Song

2008-02-14T03:08:46Z

A Blake and Vira Moment -- Vira's questionable music taste.

2008-02-05T01:59:54Z

Blake: Can't damn sleep.
Vira: I'll take you to the candy shop! I'll let you lick the lollipop!
Blake: I feel like an emo fucking bas---
Blake: ......................
Blake: I lost all
Blake: faith in you
Blake: with just that one lyric.

The YES dance

2008-02-03T19:14:11Z

The Greatest Prank Call Ever

2008-01-20T14:39:09Z

SHED! WE NEED TO DO THIS TO SHAWNA!

2008-01-20T00:20:37Z

...

2007-12-26T06:02:30Z

Merry Christmas to all.

Know what I got this year?

A pseudotumor celebri diagnosis.

Fuck yeah.

>_>

The Internet Stars Are Viral

2007-12-12T02:02:31Z

Awesome music video. Great dancers.

2007-12-09T04:27:58Z

WATCH THIS SHED.

A conversation between Blake and I regarding the Spice Girls.

2007-12-08T03:32:28Z

The screennames have been removed to protect the potentially gay. :P

Blake: And..my dumbass
Blake: can name them all
Vira: Really? Me too. XD
Blake: Posh. Scary. Sporty. Baby. Ginger.
Blake: Is that right?
Vira: Yup!
Vira: I love Posh.
Vira: Posh was my role model for a lot of years. Lol.
Blake: I liked Sporty...
Vira: Actually, the first character I made used Posh as the char pic.
Vira: xD This was, like, in 1999.
Blake: "Is my skirt to short?"

"No?"

"-...Yanks it up a bit-"
Vira: XD!!
Vira: YES!
Blake: We do not
Blake: fucking repeat
Blake: that Blake can quote Spice World
Vira: But it's so adorable. <333
Blake: That'd deduct Heterosexual points.

Grunberg is my hero.

2007-12-07T01:20:11Z

Sad part is that I do similar things in my room.

Butter

2007-12-07T01:15:51Z

Oh, Milo. How I love thee and your oddness.

Butter.

2 girls, 1 cup, 1 grandma.

2007-12-01T23:49:33Z

Best Wedding Dance... Ever?

2007-11-28T04:38:13Z