#icarus.

hi gays. we won..

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‘How much are you willing to risk?’

'Everything.'

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Let us recall, a tale about a boy whose thirst for love and freedom- led to his own downfall.

Oh, how it seemed that the stars were trapped in his eyes, for the mortal boy only gazed at the sky. Oh how he knew, he knew before anyone else- that stars shone in the daytime- for their light could never die out.

Oh, how stardust ran within his veins, coloring his blood almost ichor like- the blood of gods- yet, sadly, painfully, unfortunately- he was still human and humans are meant to fall, the higher they dream to soar.

And the poor mortal, crumbled to his death, like the wax of his wings melting before they finally turned to nothing but dust. Oh, how the gods of above and below- cried out in alarm however the voice of his father’s warnings echoed in his head, deafening any other voice.

But Icarus- despite his incoming doom, smiled.

For his love for the sun,

Despite his melting wings,

Despite his burning

Lips-

His aflamed heart,

Nothing could burn out,

His love for the sun.

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An imprisoned angel, sang ever so sweetly of his desired freedom- how he would gaze upward, as if the hands of some God would appear and take him away from his bedridden curse. How, he exchanged smiles with the sun god, and how he hoped it would turn into something more.

How, his fingers trembled for something he craved yet could never attain. Icarus, what a fool. Icarus, snap out of these useless daydreams; he almost said to himself, every moment of the day. Yet his fallen heart could never believe those words. For he loved, fiercely, deeply, passionately.

Apollo, the god of prophecy and the sun. He knew what lay before the boy- a suffocating death, however, the entire truth was not revealed to him. He could only sit and smile, at the boy who wished at him with such longing which made the ichor in his veins stiffen with lust.

A miracle, Icarus called it when the sun God spoke to him. His flushing cheeks, his unruly curls and his sparkling eyes- captivated the god, amused him. A slight smile, a little teasing could send the mortal in a state of frenzy.

‘A little fun, could do no harm’- Apollo told himself, dismissing away his worries and the consequences one would bear with 5this certain, an almost love affair.

Rays of the sun, shone on Icarus’ face- almost as if someone was softly, wrapping their arms around his face, cupping his cheeks shyly- an occasional breeze brushing past his lips. He knew it was no other than the Sun God who promised the warmth that, he seeked. For how refreshing, alluring it was compared betwixt the coldness of his bed during lonely nights.

How, the rise of the sun, promised him of a miracle, the promise of love kept him awake, for endless nights.

Icarus sighs deeply, something inside him tugs harshly, like the strings of  a harp. A shallow, sharp melody escapes his chest. Like a weeping angel tugs at the sorrow within him, teasing, tugging, releasing the strings all at once.  

“Romantics never live long,” says Apollo, with honey dripping from his lips, with fingers caressing the young boy’s jaw. For the god of prophecy will always know more, for he has bathed in knowledge of realms, before they were even brought to life.

Icarus, the naive, young boy- merely leans onto the warmth, the manipulative god provided him. His eyes untamed and wild, brimming with passion that threatened to break free, but simply- he laughs. “I’ll be different,” he vows.

But the god of warmth, simply hums in amusement for he knows the tragedy that will take place, he knows that he will plummet to his death in a trivial means of escape. He doesn't care, why would he care for a mortal? And that too, which seems to have his head in the clouds- half of the time?

But, Icarus- he believes in miracles, he believes in magic for that is what he creates. He believes that everything can work out, with a simple contraption which he can build with his tinkering fingers and his mind brimming with ideas and algorithms.

‘A mind just like his father,’ people say, the most famous inventor in this world, for his inventions held no competition- nothing came close to the brilliant mind of Daedalus.  

However, no prophecy befell the god of warmth, that he too- would fall in love, with the foolish mortal who wanted his touch. No amount of warnings could have made them change their paths, even if they knew what tragedy awaited them. For, Apollo never knew, that it was his longing that would set the mortal to his demise.

So, when day by day, Icarus, the lovesick fool, collected feathers of white and made them into wings of wax. The day, where he didnt catch a blink of sleep, for he was finally, finally- going to touch his lover.

Unimaginable things flooded his mind which were silenced by the sounds of the waves crashing outside of his tower. As he wore wings of wax, melting them into his skin, as if they were a part of him all along and they had finally surfaced, now that he finally had a reason to fly for. For he simply did not just yearn the warmth, the god of the sun provided, no- he already felt it despite being miles away from him. What icarus wanted was to let the god of poetry, claim his heart- even if he burnt it into nothing but ash.

As, Icarus takes a leap of faith and he’s soaring, flying, he’s finally flying. He’s free. Higher. Higher. Higher. There is no limits to this height, he can feel the warmth that shines on his face, his skin absorbing the light and settling into his veins. He can breathe, he no longer feels imprisoned within the 4 room prison that he has slept in for so long.

Icarus can feel himself going closer, he can feel his lover waiting for him, he can taste his love from miles away and he’s ready. He knows that the sun will burn him, that it will melt him and lead him to his ruin- but he does not care. He will not shy away from love, just because it will hurt. He will stay and he will experience it all, even if its the one thing that stands inbetwixt his freedom.

There’s tears in his eyes, yet a smile is on his face that is comparable to the sun, itself. His outstretched hands, his fingers trembling- one touch, one mere touch and this all will not be done in vain.

Yet as, Apollo embraces him in his fire like arms  and plants a kiss on his rose lips, setting them aflame. His skin tingles as Apollo laughs, the sound settling deep under his ribs. His copper curls bouncing as the god of the sun, tangles his fingers into his hair.

‘I can't believe, I finally met you,’ Apollo murmurs into his skin, as he trails soft kisses on his neck, biting the sensible skin on his collarbones. Icarus closes his eyes against the blazing fire, of flesh on flesh.

Blinded by the light and the beauty of it all, the angel’s wings are sent aflame and turned into nothing but molten wax. Nothing can save him, he’s falling, faster, faster.

The glow of the Sun god lingers on his chest as he falls, he is not scared, he does not fear death- if it will be heading his way. As the light clears away from his eyes, Icarus looks at Apollo one last time and he smiles- which sends all the Gods of Olympus falling in love with him.

“Don't forget me, dont forget the boy that wanted to kiss the sun- one last time.”

Sunburns scar his back, he didn't know that it would hurt this much, the wax seeps into his skin- an estranged sound escapes his lips. Why does it hurt this much? Wasn't love supposed to be warm? Where are the soft kisses that promised his lonely heart the warmth, that he needed. But instead he receives the scorching burning flame on his back which makes the blood in his veins boil.

As his back hit the cold water, a sizzling sound erupts from his back- his cries are drowned by the waves of the ocean. For not even Poseidon could save the young mortal who was foolish enough fall in love with a god.

Yet, as he fell to his demise- the mortal was seen to have a smile on his face of profound unfathomable joy.

Yet, as the sea suffocated his lungs and the whisper of the last kiss washed away his lips, he was once again, alone. Just as he had, all this time in the cold tower.

Yet as the sea, washed away any source of his mere existence- anyone would be a fool to think that Icarus felt any ounce of regret as the light around him dimmed and he was swallowed by the sea. A ghost of a smile playing on his lips, as his back hit the ocean floor.

Apollo knew it would happen, he knew that it would all, precisely take place within that moment, for he is the god of prophecy, The god of the sun and he burns everything he touches, so- why?

Why is there a gaping hole within his heart?

As, the devastated God, fall on his knees in defeat, red hot tears spilling from his eyes. This shouldn't hurt, everything is in chaos. His heart is raging like a forest wildfire, yet its burning him, spreading like poison in his lungs. His head is set aflame, the pressure, the cries of the Gods are driving him towards the brink of insanity.

Grief is a silent killer, wraps its hands around his heart- squeezing it to the point where he feels the same suffocation of the sea within his lungs. And finally he thinks, that this maybe the only way to get rid of the guilt for the murder of a boy who only yearned to fly- or perhaps, the murder for the boy whom he took his love for granted.

And now that its gone, now that the sun feels so cold as compared to the moon- he weeps. Red, golden tears cascading his cheeks fall onto into the sky. And so, every once in a while it rains and the sky is painted with colors of purple, orange and yellow. For the tears, that escape a god's eyes, only for the love that he yearns for the mortal that he lost in the sea. Apollo’s grief paints the sky every single day, for not a moment passes by where the immortal god doesn’t think about his very own angel. For the agony, of losing someone- who was so close and was the cause of his own demise, ruptured his beating heart.

‘You should’ve not loved me,’ Apollo would have warned, he would have told Icarus all the consequences of loving a god. The certainty of the fall, his tragedy. But instead, he said, ‘Come a little closer.’

Selfish, greedy hands clasped around Icarus’ back as, he smoothed down wings made of was and set his skin aflame- burning his searing touch into the young boys very bones. For it was more than exhilarating, to love and be touched by a god.

Similarly, it was the sun’s mere touch that lead him to his death, while the sea waited for him with open hands- and knew that it would be the cool waves that could put out the burning flame within his hollow chest.  

For the sea knew, that it would be his role in the boy’s life, to soothe him, to heal him and finally, put him to rest. For he had already endured too much, and now, he deserved peace- not in the confinement of the brick wall nor the arms of the wailing god, but in the deep, vast ocean where miracles like him- were put to rest. Only to be never found again.

For his name would be implanted in the every god’s heart, for he was the boy- a living miracle, who explored beyond limits, only for a mere touch from his lover.  

The god of prophecy, was not foretold that this would be the heartbreak that he would suffer in silence. For he did not deserve the utmost loyalty the angel provided him. How cruel were the fates, to watch him and occasionally snicker at his foolishness, because it was not the boy who was naive- it was the god, who expected it to not hurt as much as it did.

How foolish, how utterly foolish, was the god to love a mortal, for they were never meant to be.

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A tale told by an old merchant to his children, about how a naive angel loved a foolish god which led to his fall. For he will be remembered for his fall, and not for the love that scorched his veins and left him  smiling despite the shadow of death, looming before him. For a love, like this is only felt once and not more.

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[ + 983 - 001 ] o adrien não participou porque foi apresentador, mas por qual motivo deixaram o archie de fora? [ + 1320 - 019 ] icarus boygroup da nação sim, cada dia mais eles provam isso com sua bondade e carisma [ + 563 - 202 ] as wings são tão sortudas por terem conseguido ver seus idols de perto