nightmarist: (wandering ☘)
Ronan Lynch ([personal profile] nightmarist) wrote in [community profile] thisavrou_log2017-02-02 11:04 pm

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!

[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.]
deconstruct: (pic#10330090)

sparking tree!!

[personal profile] deconstruct 2017-02-05 04:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[ ronan dreaming is a beautiful thing, though andyr still worries every time he watches, remembering the creature that'd crawled out and with what fierceness it'd come for him. when he finds him sprawled out in a field, with headphones thrumming, his head somewhere else entirely, leaving his body behind prone and delicate and beautiful, and settles down nearby, to keep watch. he isn't doing anything important besides, and he loves watching ronan create, so it's hardly a chore.

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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[personal profile] deconstruct 2017-02-05 05:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[ andyr feels him waking, the movement of his lips and brush of eyelashes against his cheek, the touch to his leg, and he slips a hand down to tangle with ronan's, fingers weaving together. ]

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. ]
deconstruct: (pic#10330078)

[personal profile] deconstruct 2017-02-06 03:34 am (UTC)(link)
[ more likely some time around afternoon, but andyr's being cheeky. he's grinning back, nipping at one of ronan's lips, before drifting to kiss along his jaw, and at his neck, sucking softly over his pulse point. given ronan's lips can move, andyr's assuming he can let him know if he wants him to stop, but either way, he lifts his eyes now and again, to watch him, just making sure he isn't distressed. ]

Want me to carry you back? [ or just stay here and worship his skin, you know, whatever. ]
deconstruct: (pic#10368523)

[personal profile] deconstruct 2017-02-06 05:26 am (UTC)(link)
[ andyr moves back to ronan's lips, just to whisper a pleased 'good' against them, leaving another kiss, before moving down his body. he gives the hand ronan's holding a short squeeze, before detangling from it, moving to put both against the cloth of his shirt, over his stomach. andyr can feel strong muscle through the cotton, and god, he'd missed the feel of him so much.

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. ]
deconstruct: (Default)

Nnnnssssssfffffwwwwwww

[personal profile] deconstruct 2017-02-06 03:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[ it isn't nearly so complicated for andyr. He hadn't thought he'd ever have Ronan's whole heart, and he'd never expected to. After all, he can't promise Adam or Ronan that they're the only ones to mean this much to him either. But Ronan does mean more than enough to him to earn this kind of devotion from him. This, giving over his body, being free with it, inviting Ronan to take what he likes from him, isn't something he shares with just any friend. Ronan's something special, someone important and treasured, and for andyr, that's enough.

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. ]
deconstruct: (pic#10330090)

[personal profile] deconstruct 2017-02-07 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
[ andyr's careful, this whole thing with him and ronan and adam so new and untested, but god, he wants him so, so badly. still, he's slow, knows ronan has it in him enough to speak if he wants him to stop, and it's the upwards cant of his hips that gives the encouragement he'd been looking for, anxiety ebbing away, as an arm slips behind the small of his back, helping to hold him up as the jeans are shuffled down his hips.

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. ]
deconstruct: (pic#10330060)

[personal profile] deconstruct 2017-02-07 01:33 pm (UTC)(link)
[ andyr's hand spreads over ronan's chest, greedy for contact, wanting to touch every part of him all at once, stroking from just above his cock, up over his stomach, across his chest. his thumb finds a budded nipple to toy at a moment, rubbing over it and rolling the hardened skin between fingerpads before moving lower again, exploring all across him.

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. ]
deconstruct: (pic#10330064)

[personal profile] deconstruct 2017-02-08 12:39 pm (UTC)(link)
[ ronan feels heavy and full and perfect between andyr's lips, pulling up to suck at the sensitive, smooth head of him and swirl his tongue over him, drinking in the taste, a moment before pressing down again, jaw with a pleasant ache to it, extra careful to keep his teeth pulled back. he loves listening to him, the whimpers and gasps and shaking breathing, loves how ronan's hips jerk up with the want to meet him, and the arm against his chest slips under, to hook beneath the small of his back and his hips, helping to press ronan's hips upward, driving him deeper into him, now that andyr's more adjusted to it.

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. ]
deconstruct: (Default)

[personal profile] deconstruct 2017-02-08 04:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[ he does hear it, and at first, Andyr thinks he imagined it, some lust driven pipe dream. Or maybe he's thinking of Adam again, but Ronan is awake, and aware, and not dying, and Andyr's hair is longer than Adam, and it doesn't make sense. He nearly forgets what he's doing, but that's sort of hard with someone's extremities blocking your air passage. There's a stilted moment of surprise, pulling up enough to look at ronan, as if he needed to make sure he was still there, lips red and wet, swollen from his work, and still brushing the head of him. Something wells up in his throat, things he doesn't understand, doesn't know how to process, can't move it from his throat to put into words.

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. ]
Edited 2017-02-08 16:36 (UTC)
deconstruct: (Default)

I WROTE SO MUCH HUURRGGHHH IM SORRY I RAMBLED YOU A NOVEL

[personal profile] deconstruct 2017-02-09 06:45 am (UTC)(link)
[ were he nothing but a go between or something to fill the space, the thing is, andyr wouldn't have been bothered. through most of this, he hadn't been thinking about things he'd wanted for himself, or for some kind of future, or any idea of having. ronan giving himself to him as a friend, alone, had been more than enough to make andyr willing to bend over backwards for him. andyr'd rebuilt himself around the belief that he had no personhood, had no possessions, and had no future, and thus, had no strings attached to himself to be held back by. this, the thought of being loved, beyond just some animal of a boy with too fierce emotions and no care for impulse control or repercussion, starts to crack that apart.

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. ]
deconstruct: (Default)

;;;;;;;;;;

[personal profile] deconstruct 2017-02-09 01:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[ if andyr'd known what was going through ronan's head, he'd fiercely tell him there's absolutely nothing to apologize for. what has him all screwed up is himself alone, and all ronan did was love him, and please, please, never apologize for that. the notion's still spinning in his head, and he can't forget the way the words sounded, echoing in his ears.

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. ]
deconstruct: (Default)

[personal profile] deconstruct 2017-02-09 04:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[ andyr clings so tightly to him, his forehead to Ronan's neck, face hidden away, because it still feels too heated, and his throat still feels choked on words he can't find the sounds for. He's acting absurd, he thinks, like a little kid clinging to a parent, and all the more he wants to just choke this down and be fine again. It isn't a sadness in him, he knows that. This isn't pain, which is what makes it so fucking absurd and frustrating, and when Ronan starts to tell him he doesn't have to like this is some kind of tax on him, to love and be loved, andyr shakes his head vehemently. ]

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. ]
deconstruct: (pic#10330089)

cw: vaaague rape mention

[personal profile] deconstruct 2017-02-10 12:56 am (UTC)(link)
[ andyr'd been working the last six years and change to break himself the way ronan is broken. he'd started out with a too honest heart, too raw, too vulnerable, and he'd almost lost everything left of himself for it. he'd gone catatonic those first couple days in solitary, and nearly stayed that way. just a husk of a body, what everyone in the building really wanted him to be. a pile of superior biology and genetics with no mind attached to it. well, a pretty pile of superior genetics, and that rustles up a whole other set of horrors in his mind, andyr's hands at the back of ronan's shirt bunching, and a shiver through him like there's something so deeply skewed inside him that it's pressing outward at his bones and skin. other hands that'd be on him, in him, all over him, not nearly so kind, hardly seeing him as something living and breathing to begin with.

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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