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crack_van2006-01-09 08:58 pm
vertrauen.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2006-01-09 08:58 pm
Entry tags:
Chalk Butterfly by cynical_terror (NC-17)
Fandom: LOTRIPS
Pairing: Viggo/Orli
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cynical_terror
Author Website: Fanfic Master Post
Why this must be read: This is one of the sweetest stories I've read. It's an AU where Orli has been diagosed with a skin condition that makes it impossible to touch anything without experiencing pain. Other LOTR cast members make their presence known, and a chance meeting on the NYC subway with a certain "restauranteur" changes things completely for the shy boy from Britain.
As impolite as it was, Viggo couldn’t keep his eyes from the youth’s slightly hunched form. There was something there, something off, something twisted and obscene. Viggo looked away then, focusing on the drab men and women who shared the train. They sat perfectly upright, eyes ahead, hands jammed in pockets or occupied with cell phones, pagers, papers.
The stranger beside him shifted, and Viggo’s eyes fell right back onto the man. Peeking out just beneath the man’s dark jacket, just at the base of the throat, was a bright splash of red fabric. Viggo thought of autumnal leaves, and crisp, biting air. This time he didn’t lift his gaze away.
The younger man was hugging his chest, long arms over a lean torso, forehead pressed against the cool glass; his breath fogging up the window. He was still enough, on the whole, but as Viggo looked more closely, he was fidgeting slightly, eyes squinting, leg bouncing against the seat.
Somewhere in Viggo’s right hand, between thumb and forefinger, trapped behind the knuckle, was the feel of a paintbrush, old and worn, the wood splintering. Viggo hadn’t painted in months, though it had been such a passion of his earlier years. He didn't mourn the loss of his childhood ambition; he'd just let it slowly fade out of his life so gradually that it left no nostalgia behind.
It was simple to look at the young man as an incomplete composition, to first focus on the area, and then the detail. He often saw people this way, as the lines that tethered them together, created their movement and energy.
The man’s slender arms were two fluid lines, and his proud jaw, one dark mark. A light plum line cut down his form, keeping him grounded. He was shape, and Viggo watched, fascinating in how he came together.
Chalk Butterfly
Pairing: Viggo/Orli
Author on LJ:
cynical_terrorAuthor Website: Fanfic Master Post
Why this must be read: This is one of the sweetest stories I've read. It's an AU where Orli has been diagosed with a skin condition that makes it impossible to touch anything without experiencing pain. Other LOTR cast members make their presence known, and a chance meeting on the NYC subway with a certain "restauranteur" changes things completely for the shy boy from Britain.
As impolite as it was, Viggo couldn’t keep his eyes from the youth’s slightly hunched form. There was something there, something off, something twisted and obscene. Viggo looked away then, focusing on the drab men and women who shared the train. They sat perfectly upright, eyes ahead, hands jammed in pockets or occupied with cell phones, pagers, papers.
The stranger beside him shifted, and Viggo’s eyes fell right back onto the man. Peeking out just beneath the man’s dark jacket, just at the base of the throat, was a bright splash of red fabric. Viggo thought of autumnal leaves, and crisp, biting air. This time he didn’t lift his gaze away.
The younger man was hugging his chest, long arms over a lean torso, forehead pressed against the cool glass; his breath fogging up the window. He was still enough, on the whole, but as Viggo looked more closely, he was fidgeting slightly, eyes squinting, leg bouncing against the seat.
Somewhere in Viggo’s right hand, between thumb and forefinger, trapped behind the knuckle, was the feel of a paintbrush, old and worn, the wood splintering. Viggo hadn’t painted in months, though it had been such a passion of his earlier years. He didn't mourn the loss of his childhood ambition; he'd just let it slowly fade out of his life so gradually that it left no nostalgia behind.
It was simple to look at the young man as an incomplete composition, to first focus on the area, and then the detail. He often saw people this way, as the lines that tethered them together, created their movement and energy.
The man’s slender arms were two fluid lines, and his proud jaw, one dark mark. A light plum line cut down his form, keeping him grounded. He was shape, and Viggo watched, fascinating in how he came together.
Chalk Butterfly
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Sorry to be harassing you about this, but I didn't notice it was a WiP until I was most of the way through reading it, so if it is finished somewhere, I'd love to know. *g*
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Hopefully the mods won't notice. *crosses fingers*