Ronan Lynch (
nightmarist) wrote in
thisavrou_log2017-02-02 11:04 pm
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Entry tags:
- agents of shield: daisy johnson,
- breaking bad: jesse pinkman,
- dragon age: zevran arainai,
- original character: alan varren,
- original character: andyr prince,
- the raven cycle: adam parrish,
- the raven cycle: joseph kavinsky,
- the raven cycle: richard gansey,
- the raven cycle: ronan lynch,
- x-men movies: kurt wagner
away with us he's going, the solemn-eyed.
Who: Residents of St. Monmouth & OPEN to their various guests
When: Throughout February
Where: St. Monmouth in Kauto R2
What: The Backstreet Boys move into their magical farm of dreams.
Warnings: Look to the subject headers.
Notes: This is a mingle/catch-all log. Start your own threads! Tag around!
When: Throughout February
Where: St. Monmouth in Kauto R2
What: The Backstreet Boys move into their magical farm of dreams.
Warnings: Look to the subject headers.
Notes: This is a mingle/catch-all log. Start your own threads! Tag around!
[Ronan didn't hesitate. Almost as soon as they arrived, he was making arrangements and picking out a plot of land. No payment necessary as long as he agreed to feed the locals? Fine. Perfect. He'd signed whatever he had to and picked out his favorite place in the lot, then he'd laid down in the grass and dreamt.
When he closed his eyes, he wasn't sure what he would build. The idea of "home" conjured up so many images in his mind. He thought of the Barns, of course, but also of Henrietta as a whole. He thought of Monmouth Manufacturing and dusty old books and the scent of mint. He thought of St. Agnes and its magnificent stained glass and the cramped coziness of Adam's bedroom above the office. He found Cabeswater sprouting up in the strangest places as the landscape shifted around him, spilling out of the walls and claiming rooms all for its own. Corridors and staircases emerged out of his memories, leading him through a maze of rooms both familiar and not-quite. In the end, when Ronan stepped outside to take a look at his work, he found he'd made himself a palace of nostalgia. Then he imagined a set of house keys, turned the lock of the front door, and woke up.
Ronan woke with his head resting on the welcome mat, sprawled across the front steps, gazing up at the spire of what he would dub St. Monmouth. It would be the main building of several he'd end up creating. Their new home.
Like God, he didn't rest for several days. Every time he shut his eyes, he devoted himself to dreaming something new. A farm needed animals and crops and barns and feed and equipment. Home needed streams and fish and bridges and flower gardens and glittering lights. He let his imagination run wild, and this meant that his dream things often emerged strange and senseless, but that reminded him of his father, which made the place more beautiful.
When he was finally satisfied - although not completely finished - he invited the others to join him.]
sparking tree!!
when the tree sparks to live, andyr's eyes it with wonder - one of the stranger, more otherworldly things he's seen ronan dream to life, but incredible all the same. there is the concern that ronan might be harmed by the sparks, and andyr initially comes closer to make sure, a hand covering his face, and touching at his cheek where some of the light had bounced off. no harm done, but he looks so serene and enchanting, dreaming like this. andyr knows he'll be awake soon, that's always the pattern, so he swings a leg over ronan's hips, straddling, with hands framing his cheeks, careful not to disturb his headphones.
softly, gently, andyr kisses him, willing him back to the world, plying at him with affection and adoration. come back to him, dreamer. ]
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After a minute or two, his lashes flutter and he opens his eyes, immediately squinting against the light pouring down from above. It's a beautiful thing, but it's harsh and it makes his heart ache. It seems especially cruel to dream about Kavinsky only to wake with Andyr's lips on his mouth. He shouldn't think too much about it. (He does, anyway.)
Ronan's lips move against Andyr's, drowsily returning the kiss. Unable to lift his arms yet, his fingers brush against Andyr's leg in an affectionate caress.]
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Good morning.
[ he whispers against his lips, with a smile tugging at the corners, unaware of what conflict's going on in ronan's head. this place has been such a miracle to andyr, it's hard for him to be bothered by much else, when he finally has such a strong sense of home right here. he's never wanted to stay so, so badly in this bizarre world. it'll ache in him later, but right now, he's basking in it. ]
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Want me to carry you back? [ or just stay here and worship his skin, you know, whatever. ]
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There's no rush.
[By all means, continue worshiping. He's basking in Andyr's touch.]
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hooking his thumbs under the hem of ronan's shirt, andyr pushes it up along his chest, lips tracing over the skin uncovered, the dibs and rises of his abs, the channel of his sternum. it ends up hitched somewhere under his arms, as andyr's hands roam, and mouth trails kisses and scraping teeth, finding a nipple eventually to pull between his lips and suck at.
he's body's a beautiful, lithe, strong thing, and andyr wants him to know just how much he adores it. ]
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He doesn't deserve this, the privilege of being loved by Andyr again. God wouldn't approve of this arrangement, not when Ronan knows he will never give his whole heart to Andyr. The ever-present fear remains that he's using Andyr. Wounding him. Loving him incompletely, when of all people, Andyr deserves a true and devoted love.
Moaning softly at the attention to his nipple, Ronan rolls his head back and gazes up at the sparks as they drift down toward him. It's so easy to fall back into this. Maybe that's evidence enough to prove, in the end, that he's a wicked thing. A good man would protest. Ronan submits to Andyr's mouth without a word.]
Nnnnssssssfffffwwwwwww
What Andyr wants from Ronan is no more than he's being given now - hearing that soft moan, feeling his body relax under his hands and his lips, inviting him in. Andyr can't get enough of touching him, palms open, smoothing over his chest, along his sides, over his arms and shoulders.
Drifting lower, Andyr licks along the path of Ronan's hip bone, kissing just above the low waistband of his jeans, hands tentatively pulling at the closures. They hadn't done this before, and andyr'd been in a haze of time slip and compulsion drugs when he'd done it for Steve on the island. It feels like something new again, and there's the same nerves for it, but he wants to give Ronan this, tugging his jeans open and peppering kisses lower and lower, as fingers ease his boxers down. ]
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Shutting his eyes against the glittering light, Ronan subtly shifts his body, his hips rocking up against Andyr's kisses and making it easier to undress him. He's still too weak to move much, but there isn't much being asked of him. Andyr will take care of him.
Beneath his skinny jeans, he's already aching for Andyr to free him. The closer Andyr's mouth gets, the harder he pulses.]
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he remembers all the details of him - how ronan had looked bare, the angle of his hip bones, the arch of length and how he feels under his hand, but it still feels new. ronan's already hard and flushed, straining against the fabric until andyr eases him free, hand stroking light and smooth, base to tip, memorizing the weight of him against his palm again. andyr's kneading at his lip, pulled between his teeth, as his cheek rests on one of ronan's hip, watching ronan's hips twitch and his cock throb under his hand, deciding he wants this more than anything right now.
with knees pushing ronan's thighs apart, andyr makes a space for himself to lay between them, the hand at ronan's back swiping around to glide over the hard planes of his torso, fingers splayed, as he busies himself kissing experimentally along the base of him, dragging the flat of his tongue upward along the underside of his shaft, and feeling the sticky wet texture of precome against his lips, when he brushes them over the slit. there's half a second more of nerves, kissing carefully at his cockhead, before andyr sinks down, red lips spreading over the girth of him, as he takes ronan into his mouth, back as far as he can, and up again, sucking sweetly, cheeks hollowed and tongue cradling him. ]
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He still has his voice, and as Andyr's lips find the base of Ronan's cock, whimpers of pleasure escape his throat. Andyr has always handled his body with the finesse of a master, always somehow knowing exactly what to do, and his mouth is no exception in this. Warmth spreads through Ronan's loins, his erection jumping to press closer as Andyr's lips work their way up and tease at his swollen head. And when Andyr's hot mouth finally takes him in, Ronan can't stifle the moan that shakes his body. He'd thought he was prepared, but Andyr's mouth is more heavenly than he could have expected, immediately swallowing him so deep and welcoming him with such a warm and eager tongue.]
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ronan's pulsing length fills up his mouth, and while he doesn't have the kind of skill to try to get him as deep as he'd really like to, gag reflex not up for negotiating that at the moment, andyr's doing his best to try. nonetheless, the sensation of it, having him so close and pulling him inside him and using his body to try to bring him to some kind of ecstasy, feels like a pleasure all its own to andyr, a low, moaned hum pulled from him that vibrates around ronan between his lips, clearly enjoying this just as much himself. once he feels like he has enough control, the hand circling ronan's base drifts a bit lower, cupping his balls and massaging at them carefully. ]
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Even if Andyr is nearly as virginal as Ronan, it doesn't matter. Ronan doesn't notice any lack of technique. It's enough to be inside Andyr's mouth, to press into its warmth and wetness and to feel that tongue moving around him. When Andyr hums, Ronan shivers at the vibration. His hips rock with a weak thrust, pushing slightly deeper into that mouth, and when Andyr takes hold of his balls, Ronan's breath hitches as everything seems to tighten in response. His cock feels like it's straining with desire, rock-hard with all this attention and greedy for more.]
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there's still the occasional near-choke, andyr getting too eager too fast, but after a short, breathless laugh at himself, he goes back to it, wanting more of him, always more. andyr wants to hold to him as he peaks, feel his body strain as he climaxes, and drink him down. ]
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The moment itself is so beautiful. The crisp scent of grass mingles with the scent of Andyr, and light keeps raining down onto their bodies, and even Andyr's clumsiness is joyful and sweet. Ronan whispers into the air:]
I love you.
[It's just loud enough that he thinks Andyr might hear it. Even if he doesn't, his body is saying it. He's getting so close, especially now that Andyr's arm is maneuvering him, pulling him deeper. Ronan's breath quickens, his abs taut and his chest rapidly rising and falling. His arm is still weak, but he has enough strength to lift his hand now, his fingers drifting through Andyr's hair.]
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So he doesn't, quickly ducking back down to take him between his lips again, the first touch more like a kiss, before Andyr's lips part around him, drawing back down. He can't get it out of his head, though, wordless sentiment swirling in his mind, and all of it centered around this intense need to feel more of him, to give him everything he has to him, to be as close as to that warm center of who Ronan is as possible. For so long he'd felt like just a body with half a personality.
I want to remember living, he'd told posie once, one of those still mornings in the labs, strapped to a hospital bed, when his body still ached from the last surgery, but she'd come to see him, light fingers designed to look fragile and delicate but built to withstand so much abuse running through his hair. I want to remember what it was like, to feel, and to love, and to laugh. she'd told him he would one day, and he'd thought she was sweet and kind, but she was lying.
There's wetness at the corner of his eyes, lids squeezed closed as his head bob, and focuses on the feeling of Ronan's length pressing inside him, the pulse he can feel through him, the hands in his hair so so gentle and treasuring, while this all surges up in him like a maelstrom. Andyr will say it's just his eyes watering, having his head down and his oxygen short and all. He knows it's a lie. ]
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Ronan wants so much to be the same to Andyr.
And he thinks he is. He thinks he might be. Andyr doesn't have to say it to him, because he's doing this for Ronan. Sought him out and lavished him with pleasure. Ronan pushes his fingers through Andyr's hair in gentle encouragement as Andyr takes him deep again, another soft moan escaping him.
It feels unfair that the pleasure's so one-sided, but he's too far gone, and the warmth of Andyr's mouth is too perfect, and he's coming before he can even think to offer more of himself to Andyr first. It's quiet, with his body so worn-out and drained. His breath hitches, his hips jerk weakly, and then he's spilling onto Andyr's tongue with a wave of heat. His voice catches in his throat but his fingers twist themselves in Andyr's hair, keeping him close and willing Andyr to drink him down.]
I WROTE SO MUCH HUURRGGHHH IM SORRY I RAMBLED YOU A NOVEL
and still, he covets ronan lynch so, so dearly, like something he could hide away close to his chest and cling to like his own personal treasure. it's screaming through his bones, pounding in his chest, as he takes him deep as he can go and near physically begs him to spill into him. andyr's hands clutch at ronan's hips, curling in and trying to be careful not to do so too tightly, but there's so much going on right now. if there's a bruise, later, he'll feel horrible for it, but his attention is frayed at the moment, as he savors ronan's body weakly straining in his arms, the straggled gasps coming from him, and the fingers curled in his hair holding him close. he stays with him for the whole of it, rhythm slowing as ronan comes down, the last twinges of climax having his cock jerking between his lips and on his tongue, milking the last of it as he slows, and finally, pulls off, with several kisses dotted over him, against his length, his hips, and his thighs.
it's the quiet after, when it starts to sink in, all that he'd been trying to keep at bay a moment ago. there's a kind of excitement, buried somewhere far back and away, but it's all flooded over by a kind of terror. his hands stroke across ronan's skin, not wanting to let go of him, yet. most of his body urging him to just curl up here, set his head on ronan's stomach, and stay that way until the world comes out right again. that's when he feels the heat on his face, more than just from the exertion. an ache in his throat and a stinging in his eyes, and wetness on his cheeks. like someone else is control his body and every nerve in it is trying to cry, and the little corner of his brain still left for his conscious just can't, for the life of him, figure out why, when he's been in such horrible pain before and never let a tear fall, but this, for whatever reason, breaks him.
like a nervous tick, he sets to redressing ronan, as he's melted into the afterglow of orgasm. andyr focuses on the mechanical process of it, lifting ronan's hips to tug his boxers up, shimmying the jeans back up, making sure the boxers aren't bunched awkwardly. latch the button, tug the zipper, slip the belt ends together and set the buckle. all the while, there's a sniffle here and there, trying to clear the mess his face is in, head bowed enough that ronan would have to lean up to see him. he wipes his nose and his eyes against the sleeve of his hoodie, as if it's nothing but allergies. andyr doesn't have allergies, and hasn't since his KN gene activated.
he's watching his hands work, and the problem is, he knows that he's lying. he knows too well, right now, to try to start convincing himself of something else to drown it out. the trick only works if he can shout the lie louder than he can whisper the truth. ]
weeps
Dreamers are to be classified as weapons.
He says nothing as Andyr dresses him, pretending not to notice. Ronan knows that he, personally, hates it whenever anyone notices he's crying. On those rare occasions he's even capable of it.
Finally, when Andyr's almost done with him, Ronan takes him by the wrist. He sits up, shaky and slow, with most of his weight on his elbow, and gently tugs Andyr closer to him. His mouth seeks out Andyr's cheek for a soft kiss, reassuring. He has no idea if that's even more hazardous. He should probably stop touching Andyr at all. But he doesn't know how else to apologize.]
;;;;;;;;;;
ronan's still weak, he knows, but andyr wants him closer still, and putting all his weight onto him now doesn't seem like the best idea, so after he nuzzles his nose against ronan's cheek, returning the soft, sweet kiss just behind his ear, andyr's arms hook behind his back, and he hauls the boy up. pulling ronan into his lap, he lets his legs hook behind him, and andyr's face tucks against ronan's neck and shoulder, arms tight around his middle with hands gripping at the back of his shirt.
he stays there, for a long moment or so, breathing with shoulder's shaking, as he tries to get something out. any kind of word, something to tell him a piece of all that he feels for him. he isn't sure he ought to, that he should even be entertaining this in himself, but he wants ronan to know. needs him to. ]
You too. [ andyr eventually rasps, against ronan's throat. the rest is too jumbled up, and they sound difficult to get out, but spoken with a want for him to hear. trying. ]
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He is still so, so sorry. Some people can love without causing pain, Ronan knows, but he hasn't figured out how to be that kind of person. If it's even possible for him. (Who can safely fall in love with a knife? Of course someone's bound to get cut.)
Ronan shuts his eyes against Andyr's words.]
You don't have to. You know that, right? You don't have to do any of this.
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It's not-- [ his voice chokes up, and andyr hates it. Just wants his body and his mind to be still and silent again. But he can't do that at the expense of Ronan thinking he's hurting him. ] It isn't that. Just--
[ how does he explain any of this? Without sounding either nuts or full of shit? Or fucking hysterical? Andyr swallows back, and lets out a shaker exhale, resolutely keeping his face tucked out of sight, against Ronan's shirt, as he finally breathes it what the closest explanation he can think of for why he's like this right now, coming out in a rattled whisper. ]
I'm happy. [ saying it alone feels like too much, like all this will suddenly crumble, and the rest of him feels so fucked up to not be able to make it through something so simple without a fucking episode. ]
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Because that's a feeling Ronan knows too well.
He keeps on holding Andyr against him, letting him stay hidden and safe. Ronan doesn't cry like this, but he doesn't think poorly of Andyr for it. It doesn't seem hysterical to him. This is how people normally act when they feel things. That part of Ronan is broken.]
It's okay.
[To feel whatever he's feeling.]
cw: vaaague rape mention
he's not a human, andyr'd told himself for what felt like ages in that fortress. he's no longer a person, a life, something with rights or thoughts or soul. he's a structure of muscle and bone and fury and vengeance, and that's his reason for breathing. he'd been happy to have a friend, before, and someone seemingly on a similar wavelength, in ronan, but this is something different. ronan loves him, and suddenly andyr feels like there's something more to him. something that'd been taken, given back, and it chokes in him. ]
I don't wanna go. [ andyr rasps out, clinging tight, unsure of what exactly he means by that, just that it'd been echoing in his head. it isn't the same kind of happy that he'd been before, but that's the core of it. even if there's fear in it as well, of what he'll lose, of how he can even be a shade of who he was before, but having a piece of himself slotted back into place, and finding something that makes andyr, for the first time since arriving on the moira, actually feel like he's free, fills his heart to bursting. ] I want this.
[ ronan, his love, the ache in andyr for him, and the way this feeling is so good that is sears through him, leaving him a wreck, but a loved one. something seen, and something human. ] I want to live.
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