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[enoderedrum]

 

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ripraven

CURRENT HOUSING:

Currently living both in his designated housing, but also Adams House (pretty much in Kavinsky's bed nightly).

 

SCARS / MARKINGS:
ENVY - Cut into his left forearm (via Blue)
SUFFER - Carving into his calf via himself.
WRIST SCARS (successful suicide) + Thigh SCAR.
WRIST TATTOO -  Paw on his right wrist (via Kavinsky)
THROAT TATTOO - A raven with its wings spread on either side of his neck,
the face is a skull of the raven instead, and the background is filled with blue, purple and hints of red watercolor splashes. (Tattoo shop on Mammons Island.)
RIBCAGE TATTOO - An arrow for Clint and an hourglass for Nat.
STITCH SCARS AROUND MOUTH + slightly damaged vocal cords - Thanks to The Veiled Order capture.
MERMAN Features; white hands with claws and subtle webbing that's retractable, iridescent scales over his hands and in random spots.

DEMON ATTRIBUTES:

Demon Teeth.
The beginning of Pointy Ears (not pictures because right now they're just itchy and growing).
[These are based off Hellburbia Suicide].
Slowly his hands are turning White and his nails are turning into claws (basically)





RICHARD JOSEPH LYNCH
aka
little grey dragon he adopted from Mammons Island.

 

N A V I G A T I O N:  kinks & permissions | visuals | funeral | bdsm info | cr chart
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Comments

[enoderedrum]

Make it sound right, he does.

Leaning against the arm rest between then, he smiles a little. This Proko feels different than the one he originally ran into in the hall, and the one he assumed he would be during Kavinskys planned ‘Party’.

Setting the soda aside without bothering to look away from the others face, he waited for the thump of it sliding into the holder before reaching his newly freed hand over and sliding it around the back of Prokos neck, tangling lightly into his hair. It was only a breaths lean and his nose lightly brushed against the others, “You know, I’m not supposed to like you, right? Some unwritten rule between my group and yours.”

[favoriteforgery]

He doesn't really know what to think or feel as Noah's hand slides over the back of his neck and into his hair. It feels good and he nearly closes his eyes at the touch alone; he does as Noah's nose brushes his own.

He laughs but it comes out like a breath.

"This isn't fucking West Side Story. Fuck supposed to."

[enoderedrum]

Grinning softly again, he looks briefly over Proko's face again; this was trouble, he knew it but touching him felt good. His nose brushed against him again once and his thumb nudged his face up just a touch before he finally just kissed him.

It wasn't a rushed thing that demanded they get naked as quickly as possible, but it was warm, and parted lips that asked for more with tongue and gentle nips of teeth.

[favoriteforgery]

He leans into the kiss as soon as Noah's lips touch his. For all the attention he gets when he wants it, this feels amazing. It's just a kiss that isn't demanding anything else. And maybe it could lead to something else, but right then it's gentle and seeking and fuck--

Proko can't really remember the last time someone kissed him like this.

His lips part when Noah asks them to and he shivers when teeth graze th bottom one. He thinks he needs to breathe but he'd almost rather pass out than stop doing this.

[enoderedrum]

Breathing is overrated right then, Noah doesn't even care even if eventually that will have to be a thing. Right now he just wants--this stupid armrest out of the way. Without breaking the kiss he adjusts to shove the thing up and out of the way.

A soft sound, maybe needy? Maybe something else, practically purrs in his throat from the taste of him alone. Teeth clamp down again, tug, and slowly let go to finally give them a moment to breathe.

[favoriteforgery]

When the arm rest is out of the way, Proko slides closer. He makes a quiet sound, something between a moan and a whimper, when Noah bites his lip and then lets the kiss break.

Quietly breathless, he laughs.

"Shit, Czerny. What a fucking dark horse."

As he says it, he curls his fingers in Noah's shirt, sweater, whatever, and pulls him closer.

[enoderedrum]

Noah pretty much lives in oversized hoodies, so it's easy for Proko to get a hold of him, and he goes all too willingly with a chuckle of his own before catching his mouth again.

He was starving for this. Kissing was one of his favorite things in the world and for seven years that had been stolen from him. But now his hands were reaching, curling into the sides of Proko's shirt whatever and pulling him in, greedy for the warmth of him, the solid feel of a body against his.

He moaned, he knows he did, "You're gonna be a problem for me, I can tell." He would want more. More. More. But, if Ronan could do it, why couldn't he bounce around?

[favoriteforgery]

Prokopenko doesn't realize he's doing it, but he starts leaning back until his shoulders hit the armrest behind him, and he pulls Noah with him all the way as their mouths meet again.

"Fuck," he answers, breathy and soft between them. "I'm a problem for everyone," he adds, laughing before he kisses Noah again. It's fine. He can be a problem. But it feels good to be touched and the way Noah doesn't isn't the way Kavinsky does.

[enoderedrum]

The few people that are in the theatre with them are forgotten about entirely but as he's pulled closer he realizes for this to be comfortable there's one more damned arm rest in the way. Without looking back he uses his leg to shove the far side rest up and out of the way with a soft amused snort.

"I don't mean it that way," Not the way he took it at least. This kind of problem would hurt in the long run and he was going to do it anyway. Attraction and sex were easy, it was the messy stuff people their age didn't want to talk about that was hard. And Noah was weak to that sort of thing.

Grabbing an unopened bag of candy that was in the way he tossed it up to the people above them and said, "You can have these."

[favoriteforgery]

But Proko means it all ways. He's Frank's moral dilemma, Ronan's crisis, Kavinsky's secret, Noah's--whatever he'll be for Noah. Heartbreak, emotional catastrophe, bad life choice. He's a problem, whatever that problem is. And he always has been.

He thinks being a problem feels better than being a disappointment.

He laughs when Noah hurls a bag of candy at some people sitting a few rows back. As soon as that hand is free, Prokopenko grabs it and leans up for another kiss. His heart is pounding and half of the rush is a quiet kind of panic. How far can this go before Noah realizes there's something weird? Or missing? How long before hands start trying to slide up beneath his shirt and realize there's more than just skin there? Suddenly the binder that usually brings him comfort feels constricting.

But Noah feels good. He can keep making this mistake.

[enoderedrum]

The kiss is something he drowns a little in again, that desire for touch and warmth, connection is the only thing keeping him from pulling away to find somewhere---private wasn't entirely necessary. Whomever was up there or below them didn't matter.

His hand slowly shook off Proko's grip and reached down to tuck just under the hem of his shirt; soft skin, warm, he wanted to kiss all of it he realized but he was content at the moment just just melt against him, fitting where they could in the mostly uncomfortable theatre seats.

And at first he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, until his fingers brushed where the binder began. And he felt the flutter of what felt like panic; it wasn't physical, just something he had always been good at. Feeling people. Noah broke the kiss again to breathe, but chose to pepper his mouth with softer kisses instead of pulling away completely.

[favoriteforgery]

His breath catches and Proko nearly chokes on air when Noah's hand finds the edge of his binder. His own flies up to pin Noah's in place and he's not sure if he's trying to keep him from going further or trying to keep him from pulling away. His face gets hot for all the wrong reasons and he realizes how fucking stupid this was.

He can still die, even here. Kavinsky proved that.

Prokopenko scrambles to think of something, struggles to grasp a reaction of his own: anger, acid, apology. He isn't sure which he needs. Noah's still kissing him and he doesn't know what that means.

He almost says I can explain. But he doesn't, voice frozen in his throat and body suddenly still beneath Noah's. Ready to fight. Ready to flee.

[enoderedrum]

Noah feels all of that and stills just enough that he can pull back and look over Proko's face.

"Doesn't change anything," he murmurs and smirks softly as he nips the others chin, "Relax."

Noah wasn't the type to bolt over something like this; it wasn't a small thing, but it wasn't huge either. His fingers brushed along the edge of the binder again, then smoothed down, fingers splayed against his side, "Unless you don't want..."

[favoriteforgery]

God, he wants. Something shivers apart inside him, and he's still not totally relaxed but at least he's not on the verge of violence or escape. Proko wets his lips and just nods a little, trying to find words again after the blank horror that flashed through his head.

"No. I do. It's cool...?" He looks at Noah with a question. He needs to hear it again. This shit had been a tight secret for most of his life, especially at Aglionby. He'd managed to hide it from the entire baseball team when he'd been playing.

[enoderedrum]

Settling, calming, Noah smirks softly and sits back enough for Proko to really see his face, "Proko. It's more than fine. You're you. I'm here cause of that. And I'm staying cause of that." If it bothered him, he would have been up, stealing candy for the road and on his way back to the insomnia inducing room he's in.

[favoriteforgery]

"Illya," he says, possibly in a fit of stupidity. "My name's Illya."

The fuck is he even doing? It doesn't matter. He reaches to pull Noah back down into a kiss so he'll stop fucking thinking. He reaches down to find Noah's hand agaiin, to guide it back up to where his binder closes on the side. An invitation.

[enoderedrum]

For a brief moment, he looks confused but then he chuckles softly. He was mid repeat of the name when he's pulled back down into a kiss he does not refuse to reciprocate. Kissing Proko--no--Illya feels so much better than not.

What actually does surprise him is when his hand is moved again. He feels the closures with his fingertip and makes a curious sound because he isn't certain the message he was getting was the real one.

[favoriteforgery]

Illya makes himself clear: he starts trying to unhook the binder on his own: it's easier from Noah's angle but he can get it on and off on his own. He almost hates how bad he wants to feel Noah's hands everywhere. But it feels so good to just--not worry that something bad is about to happen with a boy he likes.

[enoderedrum]

Nope, he was getting the right message. The others impatience over it makes him puff a little chuckle against his mouth before his fingers nudge Illya's hand away so he can finish it. And the moment it's free he lets his hand just wander. Memorizing the soft feel of skin, the heart beating wildly beneath flesh and bone, the swell of breast tissue that doesn't matter in the slightest; thumb brushing over a nipple and back down to feel along fluttering abs.

Oh, he wanted this boy. He did.

[favoriteforgery]

They're small, at least. Noah can maybe get a good handful but that's it. Illya trembles beneath him, arching into his touch as soon as he allows himself to have it.

"Fuck, Noah--" His voice catches on a moan and he pushes his hands beneath the loose hoodie, beneath whatever's under it because he needs skin on skin. Just to feel it beneath his palms. Noah is warm and hard and perfect and he can't help the way he rocks his hips up, mindlessly seeking friction.

[enoderedrum]

Adjusting he moves his hand to grip beneath the others knee, pulling it up so he could slide his thigh between Illya’s legs. This really wasn’t the best place for this but Noah didn’t have the want to move either.

[favoriteforgery]

He moans low in his throat and pushes against Noah's thigh as it pushes up against him. A movie theater really isn't ideal, if only because they're trying to be horizontal and the seats are not quite wide enough. But he doesn't want to pull away, afraid that stopping will somehow make Noah change his mind.

He doesn't know where this stops, how it ends; he just knows he wants to keep going.

[enoderedrum]

Noah doesn’t want to stop but what they apparently want is not suitable for theatre seating. He pulls back with a chuckle and tugs him up with him, grabbing the binder and shoving it into his sweatshirt pocket, “Lets go somewhere else. Anywhere.”

[favoriteforgery]

"Fuck. Okay, okay."

His face gets hot when he realizes Noah's stuffed the binder into his pocket. That shouldn't be a turn on, but. It kind of is. What if he keeps it? Proko knows, really, he doesn't need to worry. K is a shithead but he'll protect him if something bad goes down.

He just hates feeling like he might have done something stupid.

Illya manages to get up without falling over and he's content to abandon what's left of their snacks to the rats or whatever else haunts the theater.

"You have a room, right?"

[enoderedrum]

Noah pulled Illya in close, lacing their fingers as he tugged them out of the theatre, “Uh, yes but I’m sharing with Blue and someone else at the moment.” He paused and looked over the others face before being tempted into another kiss.

He grabbed his face and hummed softly, teeth nipping playfully at his lips, “She’s not there. Can kick the other one out. Unless...?”