i'm free to be the greatest {i'm alive} // helucas day three

lance
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Pronouns: He/Him/His
last seen Apr 25, 2024 21:21:23 GMT -5

gay and chaotic? call it gayos

i'm free to be the greatest {i'm alive} // helucas day three Mar 30, 2017 14:58:35 GMT -5

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Post by lance on Mar 30, 2017 14:58:35 GMT -5

Legs pounded against the ground, pushing him ever so steadily forward. Chest heaved and fell, each ragged breath more painful than the last. Heart pounded against said chest, its latest attempt to free itself from its fleshy confines proving to be just as futile as those that had preceded it.

But not by much.

One fact was certain, though: he was not built for running, despite his height and slender build, and his body was fading quickly as a result.

It wasn't how he'd imagined he would go out, not with legs melted into jelly by what felt like molten lead and chest torn apart from within with each shuddering inhale and exhale.

Alas, it seemed that fate had other plans for him.

Even with the boost that the tiny Eckhart girl had given him, he was fading fast. Years of barely sufficient nutrition and exactly zero physical activity were catching up with him almost as fast as the rumbling sound caused by god knows what was.

A sardonic smile crossed his face as the thought that he had wanted to see the source of the noise up close crossed his mind.

Well, maybe now he'd get his chance.

His pace slowed, then stopped altogether. For the second time, he turned to face the oncoming stampede head on.

He took one step forward, then another, and then another.

Then the humanoid shape appeared out of nowhere and tackled him around his waist.

His cry of surprise was lost with the sudden rush of air fleeing his lungs as, for the first time, he did lose his balance. His back hit the ground with a dull THUMP, and a second later, the other figure crashed on top of him.

Instinct thrust an icy spear of fear that twisted logic lacked the capability to wield through his heart, and one arm reached for a sword that wasn't there and-

-and then his own pale blue gaze locked with twin orbs of brown, and it was like a string had been cut. Relaxation flooded through a tortured system that had once contained nothing but adrenaline and pain.

The rumbling gradually faded into nothing, and yet the thought barely registered within his skull. The cool, vibrant grass tickled his bare back, and yet he didn't notice, for the figure on his front occupied his complete attention.

One gloved hand rose in a motion that could almost be described as timid had he known that such a thing existed, hovering just off of one cheek.

"So it really was you after all, then," he breathed.

His surprise transformed into the tiniest of grins, and almost hesitantly, he brushed his hand across the cheek of Helios Delacroix in the simplest of caresses.

They very well could have gotten killed in a dozen different ways in the next minute, but at the moment, he decided he couldn't care less.

credit to darsypoo uwu

credit to fireflyz!

credit to stare!

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i'm free to be the greatest {i'm alive} // helucas day three Mar 30, 2017 16:47:25 GMT -5

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Post by Deleted on Mar 30, 2017 16:47:25 GMT -5

I pull my weight in gold; hesitant militant, tendons to wrists to teeth to Lucas, good lord. God what am I doing- I can't hesitate, I already declared, only breathed and bled and born, I cross my heart because I didn't come here to live. No thoughts, just running, autopilot until I crash or die, my hand grabs around his hip, tight and panicked; honey, we don't have time for games.

This is home in my hands, no point in thinking. Ripred and I, see, we aren't on good terms, a stampede on my soul and I don't have the time to sit around watching more people die. Watching more-

fuck it.

My shoulder locks, tackling into Lucas with heavy breaths and throwing him with me, Eszter and Elvaina and- and them. Is it safe to think yet? A ditch across the orchards, throwing myself into the tree trunk and on top of Lucas; only thing louder than my heart beat is my breathing good lord. Seventy two hours and I've done more cardio than in the eighteen years prior, breathing heavy on top o-

oh.

"Sorry, sorry, I-" I shouldn't be sorry, why do I apologize so much? Eszter needs me, the ground's grumbling dying in silence off in the distance; past Lucas, past me, past the trees beside us.

"So it really was you after all, then."

"Huh-"

Lucas puts his hand to my cheek and I flinch, he smiles. I- good lord- I've always been a mouth breather, golden armor hanging loose off me, sweat to sweat, skin to skin. His hand against my face and I remember I'm not a warrior- that I'm not a murderer, that Scarlett wasn't always dead and Eszter was kind once, that Zanita used to be here right beside us.

In a place of violence, in a place where I watched Iris walk head first into a stampede and Brooke get her skull smashed in, there's still him- home under my fingertips in a way to make ripred weep. Chain mail and fur, skin, sweat, my lungs still shutter and breath between us; don't think still burns in my blood.

So I don't.

Placing my mouth against his, to think I was celibate once. Scarlett, Zanita, Lucas -- I kiss him like he's home, like we're the last two alive because we might as well be; starving past that of hunger, thinking about Scarlett and her leaving me for dead. Of Zanita and train rides and Lucas, that prevalent thought that just doesn't go away,

I thought he died.

I thought I would be- it's not safe to think yet.

I bite my lip, stammer breathing and choking- god, again. Faltering bottom lip and thoughts and Lucas, my hands pressed white into the ground, trying to swallow tears but good lord. We're not warriors, he's a painter, I'm a priest and we won't be here forever, kissing beneath tree shade and I'm an idiot for thinking it. Idiot for saving him and not Iris and- fuck.

shit.

I can't keep eye contact but I can't lose the body heat, if I let go he'll run and Zanita'll die all over again. "I'm sorry," I flinch, tucking my head in his neck.

"I'm sorry."

[ firestorm ]

lance
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Pronouns: He/Him/His
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gay and chaotic? call it gayos

i'm free to be the greatest {i'm alive} // helucas day three Mar 30, 2017 19:32:59 GMT -5

Quote

Post by lance on Mar 30, 2017 19:32:59 GMT -5

Helios's lips come crashing onto his own, and for a moment it's nothing but-

Pure euphoria.

For a moment, the line between two separate beings is blurred, bent, broken entirely as they become one, lips and tongues and bodies moving in sync as one. Helios tasted of sweat and home, oh god he tasted so much like the home that they would never return to-

and he doesn't care about the minor details, not here, not now, for even with throat dry and lips parched from lack of water the kiss filled with so much more than so many he had ever experienced before, adrenaline and lust and relief flooding a system whipped into a frenzy from the last few moments that he knows it'll be one he remembers for the remainder of his increasingly shortening life-

-and as quickly as it began, it concluded, as Helios broke the embrace with a choked sob and the words "I'm sorry," falling from his lips as quickly as the tears that were now flowing down his face and-

-and suddenly the boy from home tucked his head in the crook of his neck, the same two words repeated again and again.
And emotions, strange and new, flood through him as well, and slowly, almost awkwardly, his arms wrap around the other boy's torso in a tender embrace, and he's whispering too, gentle and soothing croons of "It's okay, it's okay," filling the air in response to Helios's tearful apologies.

He'd never been great at comforting, and yet it felt as natural as the kiss that had taken place seconds before, and the fact confused him almost as much as the sudden shift from passion to tears that had taken place in the other boy.

Then again, he had never been that great at caring, either, and yet so many different individuals had coaxed that feeling out of him in the few short weeks since he had signed up to throw his life away.

Wylla. Lorenzo and Anton. Eva. Fallon. Zanita. Brooke. Molly. Rio. Shelby. Even Riven was slowly starting to warm up to him.

And Helios.

He cared about Helios, too, so clumsy as his attempts may be, he would try and soothe him, too.

After all, none of them had many moments left in the land of the living, so it was imperative that the ones that remained became ones that counted.

Even if it meant letting the boy from home cry into his shoulder for as long as it took.

"It's okay," he whispered.

You're alive, he thought. I'm alive.

We're alive.

credit to darsypoo uwu

credit to fireflyz!

credit to stare!

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i'm free to be the greatest {i'm alive} // helucas day three Mar 31, 2017 17:07:04 GMT -5

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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2017 17:07:04 GMT -5

"It's okay," my sisters never loved me.

Ripred is dead.

These are facts at this point, my heart sworn and crossed and torn, I was always stupid. To volunteer, to leave simple living alone -- I would still be alive. That's a funny thing, right? Had I not volunteered I wouldn't question these things, would not have uncovered all those hidden answers I never wanted to find, I'm a liability.

I get it.

"It's okay."

And I try to stay simple, embracing warmth and arms and it's enough to make me consider dying here. Starved and hungry, enough. Just a simple lie, right Percy? I understand I'm dead weight, understand that I'm nothing but heavy hands and a heavier heart and I'm pulling them down -- Eszter, Iris, Elvaina, Lucas, Scarlett, Brooke; they're all going to die. I'm going to die and they're gonna come my way, and I'm not comforted by it; "I let Iris die."

I let Brooke die, crowning her with flowers and pretending I was a saint for it- I was nothing. Then, before, now and after, every good deed burns unmemorized but that's what I wanted right? To die? To give up weight on my sisters burdens and rot with Percy? I forgot I begged for this, acted like I knew enough to be okay with this death but it doesn't work like that.

For a second it's still, like a bleeding light, panting and skin on skin, mind on heart, we're going to die.

It's a fact, it's always been there, in the back of my mind for the past few days and the foremind even longer, Zanita died, Brooke bleeds petals and Iris gets swallowed whole.

"I'm tired of-" thinking, trying to stop crying for once - ha. Did I always cry so much? Uncoiling myself from the bed of Lucas's arms, propping my back against Orchard roots and choking on stampede and stardust. "This arena," and I try to crack a smile, wiping the corner of my eye with pink fur sleeves.

"Ha," let's just pretend we're okay, "I think I miss that train ride."

If not now then when, huh?

[ firestorm ]