You, with the skin made of
uneven shades of black and
purple and blue -
one day, the stars will
claim you, and you
will set alight forgotten kingdoms;
you will be greater
than kings and queens.
You, with the bloody lips,
screaming I lie, I lie
with every fractured smile -
one day, a boy will give you
all his dreams and
kiss you on the mouth;
he’ll taste like leather,
and truth and dirty words,
and your story will be
a crooked fairytale.
You, with the glass planes and fine lines
cracking at the gentlest touch -
one day, you will be made
of stronger stuff
than your father’s white knuckles,
and sharp-edged hatred;
you will rise from dust and ash,
and the world will love you
and fear you and bow down to you.
You, with the magic sleeping lightly
in your veins -
one day, your reluctant home will
crumble before your eyes,
and mountains will be
torn off their feet,
and you will try to save
every one you have ever loved.
so @bleuczernyhad this amazing pynch au where adam is dubbed as “dr. pretty” and ronan is his new patient. he comes in with injuries that start out real, but get increasingly more ridiculous with every visit. (thank you for letting me write this!)
The most interesting of stories seem to always begin with Ronan Lynch.
When he was five, and his father had denied him access to his mother’s ever famous Irish beef stew, he made it his mission to be the first to taste it under any given circumstance. No more than twenty minutes into that mission, the pressure cooker exploded, the kitchen was a mess, and both his parents found him sitting in a puddle of stew looking absolutely betrayed. He may or may not have cried at the loss.
When he was eighteen, he took his school’s “buddy” program hosted by the local orphanage a bit too far by accidentally adopting his buddy, Opal. A legal adult by then, the school could do nothing about it, and she had been living with him ever since.
And now, at the ripe age of twenty eight, he was being hauled into the hospital by his best friend due to him having gone through the most embarrassing fight in his life. Being Ronan, though, he had a knack for making anything sound badass, along with being blessed with the gift of threatening persuasion, so surely this wouldn’t be too much of a problem to brush off.
“His feelings for Adam were an oil spill; he’d let them overflow and now there wasn’t a damn place in the ocean that wouldn’t catch fire if he dropped a match.” // “He could smell it, the earthy scent of rain on dirt, but also the electric, restless smell of ozone. (..) He could track the line of rain travelling across the vast dry field toward him. It was heavy and dark, and he knew he would get drenched if he stayed outside. It was coming from so far away that he had plenty of time to put the mower away and get under cover. Instead, though, he just stood there and watched it approach. Even at the last minute, as he heart the rain pounding the grass flat, he just stood there. He closed his eyes and let the storm soak him. That was this kiss.”
‘Robbers’ is a love song, it was originally inspired by my love of the Quentin Tarantino film ‘True Romance’, the story of an Elvis obsessed loner who falls in love and marries a prostitute. In the movie the couple run away to California after killing her pimp and stealing his drugs to start a new life financed by a once in a lifetime drug deal. It’s the sentiment behind the film that appeals to me, the hopelessly romantic notion that two people can meet and instantly fall in love, an escape story where love is the highest law and conquers all against the odds.
This is my entry for #Saigenosweek day 2 : “ I hope my feelings reach you”
I know I am WAYYYY in advance for day 2 , but I will not have the time to participate or post much during Saigenos week because of Portfolio stuff and commissions, so I wanted to at least work with this one and make this ~
(let me preface that i have a headcanon that ronan actually was physically involved with kavinsky, but the whole ‘i don’t do casual’ thing refers more to who he gives his heart to– so yes, implied past rovinsky. also, going to tag @adamprrishcycle and @pr0ko for heavily inspiring this!)
even after kavinsky dies, adam’s gut twists whenever he thinks about ronan’s past with him.
he knows it’s not fair to be upset over it. but thinking about the feral way kavinsky looked at ronan, like he had claimed him-
he had gotten there first.
ronan never told him so, but he’s seen the marks on his neck, the way they used to look at each other. he’s smelled cigarettes and aftershave on ronan when he would stop by in the middle of the night.
the way kavinsky looked at ronan reminds adam of how ronan looks at him, and he wishes that for once in his life–
for once, could he have something all of his own?
and if ronan could’ve felt something for kavinsky, what does it mean that he feels something towards adam? adam wonders,
“what does that make me?”
one day, it’s just the two of them at the Barns. they’re sitting in silence, and ronan’s holding a mouse in his hands, and adam knows that this is ronan in his purest form. he knows objectively that he should feel peace, but all he feels is this twist in his gut, this lump in his throat-
he is jealous.
“did you ever bring kavinsky here?”
ronan looks up sharply, and adam knows he’s said the wrong thing.
he keeps going though, because he feels so ugly inside and he just wants to know he’s right to feel that way– if he’s anything at all like kavinsky-
“where the fuck did that come from, Parrish?”
adam is inarticulate as he feels that familiar rage swell- he realizes that his fists are clenched, and his rage suddenly withers to a sea of shame
all we are good for is destruction, he thinks. he sees ronan, holding the mouse in his hand, and he knows he needs to leave.
he stands up suddenly and stalks out of the barn, feeling like he can’t breathe. he wonders how long it will take him if he runs back to St. Agnes. will his legs carry him the way they took him along the highways of D.C.?
he is brought back to the present moment when he feels the grip of Ronan’s fingers around his wrist.
“I never brought him here,” he says. “Never wanted to.”
“What am I doing here, then?” Adam spits out.
“I dunno, man,” Ronan replies, shrugging his shoulders. Adam knows him well enough to recognize that he’s trying to find words to say while hiding the ones he still thinks are secret. He turns away and stares at some deer that have wandered into the clearing in front of them.