* ABANDONED !

i'm feeling capable of seeing the end. i'm feeling capable of ————— saying it's over.

[hopesummcrs]

mxsinister·:

There were only so many times he could take her blood and experiment on it only to fail at getting results. She was not the same as her source material, and he shouldn’t be surprised nothing worked by this point. Sinister grew bored of negative results though he should be happy she even existed at all. It still wasn’t enough, not for him. Sinister wanted to do more and learn more by picking people apart until he could create the perfect specimen.

When the idea spawned, Sinister took the identity of a man he used to be hundreds of years ago. Nathaniel Essex died the same day his son did, but tonight he would be reborn into a better man all for the sake of entertainment. If all went according to plan, Sinister could get everything he’d ever hoped for.

Now, staring down at six long years of lies, Sinister was actually happy with their progress. Though the smile on his face was genuine, it had nothing to do with the woman he held in his arms now. Maybe he could have cared for her in another life or another time when tragedy was not a factor in their futures.

A soft whisper leaves his lips, “Maybe you will be able to reconnect with him…” Would she believe them when they deny Sinister’s accusations? The seed he planted telling her they left her on purpose bloomed beautifully before she escaped with ‘Nathaniel Essex’ and he hoped it would stay vibrant. “And get some answers when you’re ready…”

Nathaniel plants a kiss on the top of her head and pulls away just enough to see her full smile. If he didn’t know any better, he could have fallen in love with it. “Not yet, no one seems to be interested at present. Maybe I need something better than these gummy worms…” he laughs and steps fully away to finish setting up his syringes and other equipment. “They’re in a jar under my desk, in case you wanted to make sure they weren’t stale for me.”

It wouldn’t be a complete lie if Hope said that the idea of reconnecting with her brother was one she’d hope to eventually pursue. Though for reasons not at all aligned with reconnecting with family. Could it be that Sinster had prior knowledge of her brother’s presence at the school ? Otherwise, just how did they even manage to escape out of that place. A hell that became a twisted kind of home, the kind you grow used to when you have no other option. She’d have to confront him again eventually, along with the idea of having a sister. Something Hope had completely forgot to mention to Nate. Normality grows to be more and more out of reach. How was that even possible ? And where had she been all this time ? Hope wonders if maybe this sister is anymore reasonable than the brother they share. 

“Oh you know me, always more than happy to help in whatever way possible.” The tone of her voice is contradicted by the smirk on her face. Walking over to his desk she finds the stash and pops a worm in her mouth. Relishing in the taste she remembers the bland food she had to endure while she was stuck with Sinster. It made her actually miss her mother’s cooking. Even if nearly every time the red headed woman stepped foot in a kitchen, their house nearly burnt down.  “Do you have any plans for later today ? I wanted to go catch a movie or something. You know, before I lose you to your workaholic tendencies.”

[hopesummcrs]

barricadex‌:

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sweat beads at the edges of her hairline as he pounds into her. and she can feel the places where the fabric of her dress is starting to stick to on her back and shoulders. white are the color of her knuckles that clutch onto the sheets of the bed and her eyes start to flutter like mad at the feeling of his breath on her neck.  she means to say no, she wants to say no. but instead the only thing that comes out is just a loud moan. the heat she felt from his hands is no longer comforting and is again, blistering. reminding her of the orange glow she’d seen, what was it ? only hours ago ? now his fingers scorch her wrist with his futile attempts and suddenly the moment is broken.

with moments of thinking she quickly pulls away from underneath him so that her back falls again, flat on the bed. her breath, heavy and hot as she looks up to him hovering above her. a flurry of questions take up space in hope’s head again, faster than the speed of light. all of them stuck in wondering why he couldn’t let her have this one small thing that gave her happiness. she’s now stuck regretting the slip of nate in her thoughts if only to avoid this happening. it was stupid and frankly, the fact that the ring was even on her finger with him being inside her only moments ago, seemed all too irrelevant. but there’s a devilish glint in her eyes when her hand slowly trails up her body, the dress pulling back slightly against her stomach. her brown eyes don’t break contact with his when she slides her ring finger into her mouth. the diamond feels cool on her tongue and metal presses against the roof of her mouth. when she finally slips her finger back out, hope doesn’t spare any prudence on trying to minimize the audial consequences. a shit eating grin grows across her face as she presses the ring to charlie’s lips. ❝ take it then. ❞

[hopesummcrs]

📷

it’s harder than she would have expected. what was she supposed to say ? childhood traumas weigh down heavily on her throat, words struggling to reach the surface. being in this place felt strange, nothing like a home away from home. when her fingers graze along the edges of wooden walls she’s filled with not nostalgia or deja-vu, but an itch. something crawling into her skin, ready to peel away at it’s layers and burrow so far down past the bone, into the hearty marrow of her.

❝ ten years, hm ? ❞ she huffs out a breath. where in the world would she be in that amount of time ? back in a small room built with white walls ? an unmarked hole barely six feet deep, a troop of white mushrooms growing on bulging land ? ( could her body even really feed the earth enough to grow something ? ) or maybe she’d be in a home made for herself ? the last option shines, opalescent. like the sun shining down on the ocean, something so unknown but teeming with life. a full of grandeur, and new memories. ones that would replace foggy and painful pieces. memories built into the very foundation of a place not only could she lay her head on, but something that she’d pour her entire soul into.

her eyes stare straight ahead, into a camera lens. the reflection that looks back at her knows full well what she’s been tasked to do out here. ❝ a lot can happen in ten years. ❞

STOLEN / FORGOTTEN / REWOKEN

❝ you can lose some of the most important things in your life. people you thought would be there til the day you died. you can even learn what it feels like to be a ghost. the world really is so damn small  .  .  . and the years pass by so fast you almost forget to even notice it, though sometimes it isn’t from lack of trying. and when you come back, whether those people want to be in your life or not  ——— remember that this life is yours and yours alone. do not give explanations to the people who should be asking for your forgiveness. their guilt is their own. so take this life, and build. make your claim of it. ❞

[hopesummcrs]

❝ I USED TO SLEEP WITHOUT WAKING UP, IN A DREAM I MADE FROM PAINTED WALLS. I WAS A MOMENT AWAY FROM DONE WHEN THE BLACK SPILLED OUT ACROSS IT ALL, AND MY EYES WERE MADE SOBER. WORLD WAS TURNED OVER, WASHING OUT THE LINES I’D SEEN. AND MY HEART IS STILL BREAKING NOW THAT I AWAKEN  ———————————–  NO ONE’S LEFT TO ANSWER ME   .  .  .   ❞   ———   NOTHING MAKES SENSE ANYMORE , BY MIKE SHINODA

[hopesummcrs]

A   VISUAL   REPRESENTATION   ;   QUOTES   FROM   POEMS   !

[hopesummcrs]

barricadex‌:

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it’s when he looks at her like that, a pot bout to burst it’s lid right off, when she realizes how badly she wants this. in his voice she can hear the thin ice that breaks as she’s walking on and she has little room to care, let alone time. because before she even has the chance to smirk, his hands are full of force and on her again. her eyes close briefly with a faint smile thinking that she’s finally going to get what she wants. but they open once more when she feels him teasing at her core. the blood of her own lips grazes along her tongue this time as she makes with tremendous effort to bite back the mewls from escaping. watching on painfully has his tip pulls away from her and she pulses on with need.

for a brief moment she sees a more animalistic shift in his eyes and the next thing she knows, the fabric of her dress is bunched up around her hips and her palms are laid flatly against the mattress beneath her. a gasp slips out from her every time his hand collides with her skin and  she rocks her body back into his touch and against him. the way his body radiates off heat makes her think about how it good would feel to have his bare chest pressed against her.    “You’re here with me, Hope,” he says, it sends shock waves through her skin. he’s possessive and jealous, and she’s hardly coherent anymore to verbally respond. her head dips and she reaches one hand between her legs to grab cock, not at all bothering to give him an answer. as she wraps her fingers around him with firm grip, she her hips to meet him at her entrance. ❝ is that what you said ? were you thinking of me when you were fucking somebody else, charlie ? ❞ her eyes are shut so tight that she can see white and she rocks back into his length. ❝ because i wasn’t thinking of YOU. ❞

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

“Do not condemn me to the torture of loving you, losing you, and having life yet left to live.”

— María Josefa García Granados, tr. by Lina M. Ferreira, from “Farewell,”

[televisionsgifs-blog]

[hopesummcrs]

@barricadex

[hopesummcrs]

                      XINSTITUTE TASK 004 , CHARACTER PLAYLIST.

ONE , i'm in here by sia.  TWO , too bright by perfume genius.  THREE , dead in the water by ellie goulding.  FOUR , human by daughter.  FIVE , ransom by son lux. SIX , the fear by ben howard.  SEVEN , brick by boring brick by paramore.  EIGHT , the ending by ellie goulding.  NINE , the end of love by florence and the machine.  TEN , stolen by son lux.  ELEVEN , insight by joy division.  TWELVE ,  now i want by son lux. THIRTEEN , resurrection by son lux.  FOURTEEN , conscious by broods.  FIFTEEN , exogenesis: symphony part 1 ( overture ) by muse.  SIXTEEN , terraform by novo amor , ed tullett.  SEVENTEEN , otherside by perfume genius.

[hopesummcrs]

in dreams, the sun plays on her skin as if she were an instrument. in dreams, she sings like the birds in the morning, bright and curious. symbolizing the dawning of a new day. and of course, in dreams, she is no chained no more.

she is sixteen. the only reason she’s even aware of this coming of age is because she was told, it could even be just another lie, and she’s convinced it is just that.❛  there’s no way a single year has passed. ❜  another revolution around the sun ?  just another thing that symbolized her namesake. how could it have gone by so fast ? looming above her head and every step, always so far beyond reach. she feels like she’s planted at the bottom of a pit, so far down that her skin has gone iridescent and her tongue feels numb. when her eyes search to gather the surroundings, she might just be blind. there’s too much darkness. but her hands still cast themselves into an unknown emptiness, looking to find something to hold onto, a rope, a rock, a hope ————  and every time her hands only come up empty.

it seemed impossible ; in reality she has no real method to keeping track of days. for all she knew, sinister could have flipped her sleeping schedule. making her rise with the moon, and fall with the coming of sun. and then there was the matter of days where she’d go unconscious, either from her bodily exhaustion, the cells in her body desperately trying to heal themselves. or from some medically induced coma because, well, why not apparently. it's all for the good of mutantkind. after a certain point she’d stopped believing in that stupid imposter of a reason. 

regardless , the idea of only one year passing by a felt like a smack in the face. it meant that the last time she saw her family was over three hundred ago. something that she would have imagined felt like forever. and even that had not been in person, sinister had only ever let them see each other two at a time, a smart move not to underestimate any of their capabilities, powers or not. but what she’s thinking about is that last time she saw her family. the group of them, minus her. looking back now it seems rather fitting. she remembers sinister coming into her cell, long since after they had escaped. he said he had something to show her and offered her a  hand. she didn’t want to touch him, let alone his hand. thinking it too would be cold and covered in thorns, thirsty for blood. but when the footage is shown to her, no fuzz on the screen, she couldn’t believe it. of course she couldn’t. so she did what she knew her mother did best against him. thrashed and screamed, a mess of tears rolling down her face. accused him of heresy and being a terrible liar. swearing up and down that her family would never just leave her behind. it was just another trick of his. a god awful and stomach twisting lie.

she still has the courage to cry. enough remembrance to feel for. for all thats been taken from her, and all the things that she’ll never get to have if she’s stuck here for the rest of her life. what would her body look like by the end of it all ? will they mistake were yet another needle pressed into skin for a freckle ? or would the undertaker leave her a poor memory of what she once was ? ❛ it doesn't matter. i don't matter. ❜   she remembers, chiding herself. what more could she expect ? was she hoping for a grave carved with the name of a family who had abandoned her ? as if they would even spare a second to give her some kind of burial. would her family come to refresh the dying flowers on her tomb ? and her mother, would she spend hours on the grass sobbing and crying out for another baby she‘d lost ? ———— NO. they wouldn’t even know she was dead. she’s been left here to rot. the only remote purpose she had in this miserable life was to be the lab rat sinister wanted. right back to where she started. where she was always going to end right back up in. maybe this was meant to be what she called home.

bound by the wrists to an inclined surface, she thinks.  .  . maybe her mother knew it all along. maybe she even thought hope was better suited for it. charlie didn’t deserve to be in a place like this. hope saw it every time they were allowed to see each other. and every time it was like another chip had been cut into his shoulder. she hated it. watching her brother lose all the best things she loved about him. he was too kind, too much of a contradiction to his own self. but still, what was it about her that made her mother decide ? she wishes it was something like her mom knowing just how resilient she’d be. because they were so much like one another, but something in her gut tells her otherwise. could it be the wavering of her resolve ? she's strong enough to cry, but how much more of this could she take ? ❛  better me than any of them  .  . .❜  she guesses. she was born in this place. the first breath that filled her lungs came from within these very walls. and there was no love here. maybe that was why she could preserve herself better. because she already knew what it felt like in here, to be starved of love. it’s a razor thin line for a sixteen year old. not wanting to disappoint the one who gave you life, and then having her leave you thinking that you’re simply just unloveable. but if her mother thought she would somehow endure it, she was wrong. what when you have nothing but the memories of laughter being replaced every time an injection shoots through your veins.

the monitor sounds, it's incessant beeping matching to the rythm of her heart. and she finds herself wondering if they're having a cake in her name. the same strawberry lemonade flavor they'd get from a small bakery not too far from home. it always reminded her of her name, summers. she misses the way her father used to give her bear hugs. the few seconds where hope thought the weight of his love would pulverize her very being, and her nose would wrinkle at his scent of car grease and motor oil. BUT IT'S HER BIRTHDAY , SHE'S SIXTEEN , AND SHE'S CRYING ——— AGAIN .  .  .

[filmaticbby]

[hopesummcrs]

@telepathological @wreakhavck

[hopesummcrs]

barricadex‌:

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she takes a sharp breath when his fingers plunge inside of her, eyelashes fluttering like a pair of wings on a butterfly, mosaic and beautiful. suddenly his warmth is gone and she’s on the bed, blonde hair sprawled out beneath her head. whatever forms of protest were about to leave her are wiped away as he stands above her. and it’s wrong, the way her eyes find their way to focus on just how loosely his pants hang around his hips. all too much like her, and the way she hangs tightly on the edge of a cliff. her hands are burning with the knowledge of just how easy it could be for her fingers to slip around those denim belt loops. ridding him of those unnecessary and complicated clothes. her mind plays out a lewd scenario, taking his desire into her own hands, literally. sly fingers went prowling down into his pants. the imagine projects into his mind, both taunting and tempting him with possible alternatives.

electrified under his wolfish gaze, she feels like a live wire. patience wears dangerously thin after waiting what already feels like a lifetime, she wishes he would stop playing games. just to have his skin pressed flush against hers, fill her with his warmth in this abruptly cold room. she knows that’s what he wants too but, he won’t, and she almost fails in biting back harsh words to entice him further. the fact that he’s able to draw this out, it makes sense. having already waited fifteen years to see her again, what more were a few moments ? but the moment absolves her of virtue. not when her hands roam to seek out refuge in the bed sheets below her, and they are denied fiercely. her body strains against the weight of his arm, feeling the muscles tense atop her skin, she’s aching for him. the taste of his blood still hangs on her tongue as she chews on her lips to hold back a moan. trying her damnedest to stay quiet, make him work for her sounds, the ones that make him twitch and burn. she wants to hear him to say it, her name. rolling out of him in the most blasphemous form of prayer. she pleads for him to come up, every moment passing by more grueling than the last. it feels agonizing, making her hands move from the bed sheets and to his hair, grasping for the sun. knuckles white and searching for sanctuary, lips clamped shut as her neck inclines lightly off the bed. 

his tongue lapping against her makes the task of her trying to watch him, let alone keep her eyes open seem impossible. the weight of his arm restricts her from moving and so she decides to him further. her hands leave his hair and glide their way up, one begins to palm at her breast through the fabric of her dress, the other grips round her throat lightly. she leaves her mind open, freely projecting to his as she thinks of dark hair and rosy lips. the last man that had her like this. it makes her back curl up further, almost in an unnatural sort of way. there may very well be hell to pay for this but her growing excitement holds close to no reigns.

[emilysbluntz]

[hopesummcrs]

@barricadex

[filmgifs]

Whenever you’re afraid, or miss me terribly… just tell Emily. And she’ll get the message to me, wherever I am. And I’ll send one back right away… so that when you hug her… you’ll really be getting a hug from me. A Little Princess (1995) dir. Alfonso Cuarón

[hopesummcrs]

@wreakhavck

[siickangel]

[hopesummcrs]

@telepathological @wreakhavck @barricadex

[hopesummcrs]

barricadex‌:

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❝ fuck, ❞ the profane word slips from her tongue. squirming by just the feel of his touch, she prays. not to god or some holy being ——— but to oblivion. for it to welcome her in with open arms and shelter, because heaven will deny them entry for this. a sin so heinous it has no name . . . like her mother, she is filled with a ferocity that rivals her small frame greatly. so while he nips at skin of her collarbone, she sucks in a breath and lets her hair fall across her face, a small gimmick. sinking deeper into his grasp, behind a veil made of both their hair, sharp teeth catch at his earlobe, toying with the skin before she hisses right into it, loudly. there is a small alarm within her that tells her to keep quite. trying to remind her of the fact that anybody could potentially hear them. not only for the sake of thin walls, but prying minds. but it’s useless when she finds herself again, spewing out a various set of noises, all of them from pleasure. 

one hand creepily sneaks it way down the back of his shirt, nails grazing against skin before coming across a tender and raised spot. the sound of his wet kisses on her neck is replaced with distorted shouting and a rumbling she thinks comes only from his chest. people run in all sorts of directions, dirt covering their faces and then, the sound of a door slamming makes the image fade away quickly. like the smoke of a blown out candle it all dissipates into nothing. a sudden cold pressure at her core begs for alleviation ( however small ) and steals her attention before she can question the vision further. cold beads of a thin metal necklace press against the arm she has wrapped around his neck. she mewls into his mouth before running her tongue against his bottom lip and teeth. the same lips that were so soft on her forehead. the same lips that made baseless accusations and told her she needed to grow up. they held such reservation only moments ago, now they crash and burn at skin. her hips move to glaze his hand over and she pulls at his hair, wanting more of that soft mouth on hers.

a garden grows inside her, and he is the mad gardener who’s come to prune her roses. damn eden. on her tongue he tastes of : pomegranate, apple, and grape. all of them combined, all of damning, all of them defined by one word ——— FORBIDDEN. a small breath hitches as she parts her lips, forehead pressed hard against his as she heaves against him. his heart beat is heavy and fast, it almost makes her own go hypersonic. the piece of fabric so easily discarded like the laws of an imaginary scripture. right now, he was the realest thing. she pulls away abruptly, taking reign over his thoughts of self doubt. ❝ you. are. enough. ❞ she says through pants with eyes that hold his gaze without pause. it's the truth, even without the spell of lust they find themselves rooted in. she sends him her strong emotions of love, letting him know that all the words she'd said before, they didn't mean anything. she could never hate or blame him. she searches and shows him fond memories of them laughing together in what feels like another lifetime, hoping he feels the praise behind it all.  ❝ now show me what it’s like to forget. ❞ with that she brings her mouth back down to his, this time nipping at his lip, coaxing until the red runs across her tongue.

[hopesummcrs]

barricadex‌:

Arlo could never read her mind, as desperately as he wanted to sometimes. When they were growing up, Hope and their mother shared a bond he could never understand. The first four years of Hope’s life were spent solely with their mother and their tormentor, until Alex Summers did what he did best. Hope understood their mother in a way he never could. They spoke to each other with only glances, quick touches, whispered into each other’s heads and shared sly grins. It made him feel like an outsider sometimes even when he knew it was never meant that way. He hated how jealous he was of it. He hated how everyone pointed out how he was more like Alex than Jean. Always large for his age, intimidating, stubborn even. He wanted to be like his mom, someone could bring a smile to your lips without having to try. She was so sweet, even when she was angry there was something impossibly beautiful about her. It’s probably why most of his parents arguments ended in the bedroom, something he wished he never had noticed. But it was something he and Hope had shared disgust over, the way kids do when they’re reminded their parents are only human.

Here Hope stood, golden like him but with that same impossible beauty. He wanted to press his lips all over her face, undo all the things Sinister had done to her over the years with just his love alone and it was absolutely stupid. He was absolutely stupid. Her words thaw his heart in a way nothing else could and he grips her hair tighter, not enough to hurt but definitely enough to urge her closer. She’s so warm and he can’t stop staring at her. Taking in every expression that flits across her face. The absolute delight. A part of him, jealous and awful, wonders if this man she’s supposed to marry makes her look like this. Blissed out and carefree, if only for a moment.

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his lips are warmer than she had expected. it is a softness she’s beginning to develop a hunger for. plump against the hardness of her skull, full of stubbornness and with little room for compromise. lost in the moment, her neck arches closer into his hands. she finds herself missing the way his hands felt in her hair, casting out silent and empty wishes for him to return back and only pull tighter. but still, her mouth gapes open as his fingers reach for her neck. the muscles in her throat contract and expand to collect nearly all the oxygen in the room and even then, it seems to not be enough. a thought crosses her mind, burning red hot with desire. could he save her now ? with his hands almost wrapped around her airways. he could crush her trachea and larynx in the swiftest of motions but it only entices more of a thrill. if her mouth latched onto his ? could he breathe life into her lungs ? share his essence with her in a way that was robbed from them all those years ago . . . 

her pale chin tilts so far upward that the back of her head meets the wall. any concept of shame is banished from her as she rolls her neck further into his touch. his fingers playing her like a guitar and she just sings. it is a soft sound, falling somewhere between a whine and hum. barely filling the space between them ——— an eternity of silence broken by the beginning notes of a strum on golden strings. she is a rocky shore and his emotions are the sea foamed waves thatcrash / wash / splash over her own like a second skin. and in both them are the ruins of one another she can feel his want, clouded by the tug of moral alignment. alarms sound off in a now distant part of her mind, they ring faintly and it’s far too easy to ignore them now. he is an oasis in a desert, and she, a lost merchant robbed of all her freight. there is no weight to her now. when he speaks his words they almost pass right over her. she wants to listen more closely but her hypersensitivity sends her through loops full of haze. there’s a certain kind of adoration in his voice that resounds louder than the words he speaks, a sweet song to her ears. ❛ find me, charlie. ❜ the words never manage to leave her lips.

they’re so close now, and the way his breath falls onto her skin makes hope  forget what to do with herself. the weight of her request is incomprehensible, the words float between two minds, gone adrift in one another. but she’s almost forgotten it already, falling deeper into this twisted mania. boldly, her hands reach up to find his and she brings them back up to her lips again. ❛ TAKE ME HOME. ❜