Lucifer slash
Oct. 25th, 2003 12:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nnyFor ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ellen_fremedon.
Flightless
He is the guardian of silence. They forget, sometimes, that he can speak, in a way. They are so used to reading his thoughts in his face, in his eyes, they forget it is not always required.
But because he does not speak, he has more time to think, experience, feel. Perhaps he has become sentimental.
He runs fingers lightly over the back, wincing slightly as his fingers encounter the harsh, puckered texture of scars that never seem quite healed.
His lover, the Morningstar, stirs. He draws his hand back as though burned.
He doesn’t speak. He has no words.
Greeting
He walks through the gardens, touching petals... his hands are gloved in leather far too tough to let him feel them. Neither the petals, nor the thorns. He remembers he never enjoyed this task; but from a new viewpoint, through the eyes of an outsider, he can see it might have worth.
A golden haired figure in the distance, serene in his diminished role; Lucifer knows he has been heard even though he is virtually noiseless, yet he must speak to Duma before he is acknowledged.
Duma’s smile is all the more beautiful because no words accompany it.
ellen_fremedon.Flightless
He is the guardian of silence. They forget, sometimes, that he can speak, in a way. They are so used to reading his thoughts in his face, in his eyes, they forget it is not always required.
But because he does not speak, he has more time to think, experience, feel. Perhaps he has become sentimental.
He runs fingers lightly over the back, wincing slightly as his fingers encounter the harsh, puckered texture of scars that never seem quite healed.
His lover, the Morningstar, stirs. He draws his hand back as though burned.
He doesn’t speak. He has no words.
Greeting
He walks through the gardens, touching petals... his hands are gloved in leather far too tough to let him feel them. Neither the petals, nor the thorns. He remembers he never enjoyed this task; but from a new viewpoint, through the eyes of an outsider, he can see it might have worth.
A golden haired figure in the distance, serene in his diminished role; Lucifer knows he has been heard even though he is virtually noiseless, yet he must speak to Duma before he is acknowledged.
Duma’s smile is all the more beautiful because no words accompany it.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 11:47 pm (UTC)I love the tactility (is that a word?) of both of these-- Duma stroking Lucifer's back, Lucifer's gloved hands. Mmmmmmmm. Silent angelslash. Mmmmmmmmmmmm.
Oh, and after much rummaging through back entries, I finally found the Lucifer/Michael snippet I wrote back in April (http://www.livejournal.com/users/ellen_fremedon/110985.html).
Duma, though. I love Duma like a mad Duma-loving thing. He deserves so much better than being stuck in Hell with Remiel.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 11:58 pm (UTC)Thanks very much for the feedback. *g*