HUMMINGBIRD. LAWRENCE LYKAIOS   —   26,  M.

Speed: Can run to incredible speeds (+) can slow down time for only yourself  (-) physically very weak and slow after using the power (-) time limit of 30 seconds from your perspective.

HISTORY

TWO LIVES DIVERGED ALONG A MOSSY ROAD, only one made it out alive. Born wretched, the second to all things good, you were merely a reflection of what burned bright already. You have never been good enough, and this will never change. The bones in your body weigh more than the purpose you are given, and when you succumb to the infinite, you will take your name down with you. In the forest, what you bargained to ensure your survival was nothing less than the total sum of your parts. It was your hand in his heart, his face accepting of his fate — you could have saved him then for looking so sorrowful (for loving you when you are so unloveable). Had your brother survived, perhaps he could have seen past the trees and into the forest. Perhaps he could have rescued you both, but this plaintive thinking cannot resurrect the dead and so has no use to you. The last kind thing your father does for you is strip you of your name. Yes, you should have died that day, and perhaps in a way you still did, but your brother made the mistake of loving you and that was his fault. 

There are meadows now, and the grass sways in the wind with mournful motions. It conceals the peril within it with venomous precision, but such danger does not matter when they are too slow to catch you. The wind cuts like a knife and makes you bleed in penance. Things matter less now than they did before, you crave no one’s approval but your own — and yet, at times, this too seems an almost impossible task to complete. This is your fate, to hunger and yearn for more than anything anyone is willing to give you. You will never be satisfied, but that has never been your priority, disorder has. You may have found a place to call home within the marrow of another’s fate, but you do not forget the qualities which define you. So, when you hold the skull, as you do everyday  analyzing it for signs of mistreatment, you can only question why such an object holds so much meaning. It is a sadistic thought, a self-important one, and it drives you to understand that if everything matters, nothing does.

CONNECTIONS

FALCONET﹒  I FORGOT SOFTNESS BECAUSE IT DOES NOT SERVE ME

You look at him, ready to sink your teeth into destruction. From the peripherals, you’ve always seen the potential of his unraveling. The edge of chaos is a thin line and he stands at the very edge. A leap of faith for some, an endless abyss for you. A chasm of torment masked by vicious uncontrollable ruthlessness creates a black hole where once existed a heart. But misery is less cruel in company - in another world perhaps you would choose to save him. That’s what a true friend should do. But what good ever came in fleeting goodness? Suffering was inevitable, pain signified reality and the state of the wickedness of the world around you. Its very purpose was to push the limits of all possibilities. You want to show him what it means to embrace the nothingness - it is only then that he will see the world anew. Nothing mattered, nobody cared - be selfish, be greedy, be monstrous. And maybe then, you’d finally find solace in your own reflection.

STARLING﹒ UNZIP MY SKIN TO SEE WHO I TRULY AM

A story of what ifs, that is what you propose to her, together you could end the world - destroy, recreate, reconstruct and then end it all again. STARLING gazes in twisted wonder, a delight sparks through your skin. “Why not”, she taunts. And that is when the dance begins, where you offer your hand, you hold back in anticipation. Greatness comes to those who wait. So you held your breath. Show me your rage, your disgust, every ugly feature that shrieks from within. But she ran and you found yourself back at the very beginning of dawn empty handed. Determination and obsession sets you on a chase to see how she intends to make the world pay. You will stop at nothing to bear witness to her design. Then it’d be your turn to finish with apathetic indifference. “Let me be cruel, let me kill a part of myself to show you how it dies.”

ROBIN﹒ THE RELIEF OF ANNIHILATION 

There is comfort and there is malaise. ROBIN numbs in a manner of anesthetic encouragement, a soothing cold calm voice, she speaks and you hear words of a speaker reciting an insincere eulogy. And yet, you do not mind. Dead or alive, all of your aimless wanderings are machinations of your own device. You can see clearly the fascination and manipulation of every thinly veiled lie. Her desire to touch the very chaos that char the edge of your soul glistens in cold blooded excitement. But she does not understand that what she sees is merely the iron gate. Hell remains beyond the sorrow in your eyes. You give her a promising show to watch, your lips strung into a fabricated smile. FALCONET would be the first to fall into the ravine and then she’d be next. ROBIN beckons your darkness as if she had the power to control your demons but you’d be the one to pull her into the void of your own making. To see clearly, you must first be blind.

@jxns-notes

“i love you, hyunjin-ah.”

changbin ran out of time; he’d wanted hyunjin to have his humanity for atleast a little bit longer. his health only deteriorated faster after their night of stargazing, despite changbin’s attempts to keep him safe. it’s selfish, the way he was happy when hyunjin agreed to be turned (to be with changbin, he’d said), the way he sprung the question on him only when he was on his death bed. changbin has only known hyunjin for a short amount of time within his much longer years of life (or death, technically), but the boy still impacted him greatly enough for changbin to know he didn’t want to let hyunjin die.

hyunjin, a boy who smiles through his pain and suffering. a boy who somehow finds enjoyment in life from his hospital bed. a boy who has let changbin into his life, and has brought happiness to his existence for the first time in a long time. changbin admires him.

what if it doesn’t work?

changbin fears the turning process going wrong, fears killing hyunjin just for him to not return to him. he warns hyunjin, but the boy doesn’t seem afraid of his death in the way changbin is. his smile, that beautiful, dimpled smile, is the only thing that gives him enough confidence to proceed. he wants to see it for the rest of forever.

he tries to make the process as comfortable as possible, sitting with hyunjin in his lap, stroking over his hair, cupping his sunken cheeks between his palms. the vampire catches hyunjin’s gaze, his own eyes sad, but hopeful. he kisses hyunjin’s forehead, then his lips, trying to keep tears from falling before he’s even started.

changbin drags his lips from his jaw down to his neck, peppering soft kisses along pale skin as he gently moves his shirt collar to the side. he can hear the shallow flutter of his heartbeat, can feel the way it quickens in his pulse and beats like a little hummingbird.

“i promise you, i will be here when you wake up, little one.”

and with that, he’s biting hyunjin’s neck, fangs piercing through thin skin. changbin holds hyunjin close through it, his own tears rolling down his cheeks as hyunjin’s blood fills his mouth for the first time. it’s bitter due to the sickness, but it’s hyunjin. it’s overwhelming. changbin squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to make any noise as he drains hyunjin completely of his life force in a way only a vampire can do. he feeds until hyunjin’s skin goes cold, until his already pale skin somehow looks paler. changbin’s fingers curl into hyunjin’s shirt, heart breaking as hyunjin goes lifeless in his arms. as hyunjin dies, because of changbin.

changbin’s still crying when he pulls away, vision blurry with his tears as he lays hyunjin down on the bed, laying at his side and gently pulling hyunjin’s head to his chest. fingers stroke carefully through soft hair, fingers ghosting along the features of his face. he almost looks happy, even in death. changbin sobs, pressing his face into the boy’s hair, cradling him and waiting for him to return.

Comforting Edition {Sentence Starters}

Protect him.

Even around the trembling of his body, Tomoya found the ability to laugh at the mere notion of it. “Yeah?” he mused, the corner of his mouth twitching into a tentative smile -- not that Rika could see it.

Blackouts were the objective worst. This one had been scheduled, to be fair -- Tomoya’s entire residential district was caked in black in the wake of electrical maintenance -- but Tomoya had forgotten all about it in his busy schedule, and as such had been scared out of his mind the moment his entire house went dark.

Not even his nightlight worked in this scenario, and his phone was in another room, and Tomoya was so paralysed by his childhood fear of darkness that he found himself standing in the middle of the room like a fucking idiot, his heart pounding loud in his ears and his face flushed with mortification.

But Rika sounded sweet as she spoke -- comforting, as she always was. And Tomoya felt like even more of an idiot, having been stunned into visceral fear in the middle of something as decidedly (objectively) fun as a sleepover.

“R-Right...” The stammering was embarrassing. His stomach flipped as he walked carefully, and whilst his eyes had adjusted somewhat to the darkness by this point, there was still that lingering sense of distress at the idea of what might be out there, just waiting to jump out at him. “I...”

Tomoya came to a stop again, flinching at the feel of something on the floor by his foot. This was, of course, one of Mii-chan’s toys, but it was enough to halt him entirely.