ext_2122 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
slashfairy.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2006-07-30 05:38 pm
slashfairy.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2006-07-30 05:38 pm
Wings
Wings
PicFic inspired by a manip by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
xchasingtailsx
PG
Viggorli
It's not about the beauty of his body, although that's a factor, certainly. It's not the giggle that makes my heart rise sunny and bright when I hear it first thing in the morning, nor about the depth of his eyes when he's almost, almost there, his cock in my mouth hot and sweet and I look up to find him gazing back at me like that, pupils huge and deep as the universe, that makes my own cock rise wanting to fill him with stars.
It's not about his charities, the way he's learned to speak so well about his support for things that matter to him, that touch his heart, move his thoughts to his core truths and make him brave to stand up for his beliefs, his standards. It's not about how guiless he is, how generous to children, how compassionate to animals, how polite to the worst reporter...
It's about how, when there's darkness and fear, when inner lights go out and hearts begin to collapse under the weight of words I'd wish would leave the tormented alone, his wings appear, translucent, gossamer, invisible to him, always, and by their presence, as they unfold slowly inside the wounded heart, the tired mind, a scaffolding is made, something that provides support from inside.
He's no idea, of course, that he has that effect. He chalks it off to "Good genes" or "Good lighting" or "Good Script/Director/Cast", but that's because he can't see it when it happens.
I felt it, though- felt his wings unfurl inside someone's heart, felt them expand, and take the weight, crushing, impossible weight, and distribute it more or less evenly, so the one who held him heart-deep could breathe, could live, and move, and have their very precious being. I felt his wings burst through that heart's back and lift that person above demons and imps, lift them free of the noxious smells of hell and defeat, and carry them away to brighter, safer meadows, with clean water and bright soft sun, to heal, to grow wings of their own to hold them open, keep them from being crushed.
When I call him "Angel" he smiles, and calls me his King, or his Ranger, or his Poet, and kisses me, and goes on to the next thing he has to do, which he will do with grace, and skill, and balance, his wings folded away, invisible to all but the ones whose lives he's saved.
PicFic inspired by a manip by
xchasingtailsxPG
Viggorli
It's not about the beauty of his body, although that's a factor, certainly. It's not the giggle that makes my heart rise sunny and bright when I hear it first thing in the morning, nor about the depth of his eyes when he's almost, almost there, his cock in my mouth hot and sweet and I look up to find him gazing back at me like that, pupils huge and deep as the universe, that makes my own cock rise wanting to fill him with stars.
It's not about his charities, the way he's learned to speak so well about his support for things that matter to him, that touch his heart, move his thoughts to his core truths and make him brave to stand up for his beliefs, his standards. It's not about how guiless he is, how generous to children, how compassionate to animals, how polite to the worst reporter...
It's about how, when there's darkness and fear, when inner lights go out and hearts begin to collapse under the weight of words I'd wish would leave the tormented alone, his wings appear, translucent, gossamer, invisible to him, always, and by their presence, as they unfold slowly inside the wounded heart, the tired mind, a scaffolding is made, something that provides support from inside.
He's no idea, of course, that he has that effect. He chalks it off to "Good genes" or "Good lighting" or "Good Script/Director/Cast", but that's because he can't see it when it happens.
I felt it, though- felt his wings unfurl inside someone's heart, felt them expand, and take the weight, crushing, impossible weight, and distribute it more or less evenly, so the one who held him heart-deep could breathe, could live, and move, and have their very precious being. I felt his wings burst through that heart's back and lift that person above demons and imps, lift them free of the noxious smells of hell and defeat, and carry them away to brighter, safer meadows, with clean water and bright soft sun, to heal, to grow wings of their own to hold them open, keep them from being crushed.
When I call him "Angel" he smiles, and calls me his King, or his Ranger, or his Poet, and kisses me, and goes on to the next thing he has to do, which he will do with grace, and skill, and balance, his wings folded away, invisible to all but the ones whose lives he's saved.
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the one who held him heart-deep
That snippet made me feel all warm inside.
♥
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that was so beautiful and very romantic.
thank you for sharing this.
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no subject
Beautiful. Just.. beautiful.
no subject
"...as they unfold slowly inside the wounded heart, the tired mind..." - just perfect.