Nope, not three prompts in one post; just one prompt involving three couples. While Esmeralda dances during the Festival of Fools, examine the thoughts/fantasies that are playing through their heads. These three men would have very different thoughts regarding our favorite gypsy girl.
PART 1 - Quasi is a sweetheartlit_wolfJanuary 23 2011, 09:04:05 UTC
Esmeralda dances, and it is the sweetest thing Quasimodo has ever seen.
Her eyes are closed as she spins and steps, the pure joy of dancing written in her face and her smile. The same smile she'd flashed him earlier, the one that made his heart pound in a way that had nothing to do with the thrill of the Festival. For a moment, he can imagine that her smile is meant for him - really him, not the mask that she thinks he wears.
Master forbids him to read fairytales, for they are the words of the devil. But Quasimodo has caught snippets, here and there; he knows about things like true love, and living happily ever after. He knows there is a story about a woman who learned to love a beast, although he does not know how it ends.
Quasimodo prays every night and every morning, thanking God for this life he is unworthy to live. He deserves no favors, no divine attention; to ask anything more than he has would be nothing short of blasphemy. But this isn't a real prayer, just a - a wish, as quick and fleeting as a shooting star. Up in the
( ... )
PART 2 - Frollo needs to get laidlit_wolfJanuary 23 2011, 09:04:37 UTC
Esmeralda dances, and it is the most foul, disgusting act of depravity that Frollo has ever seen.
Her body twists and sways, her red lips curving in a wicked grin. She is a heathen witch, a succubus sent from the mouth of Hell itself to tempt the weak and indulgent - look at how she shakes her hips, look at how she arches her back, look at the arcing shape of her breasts under the thin cloth of her dress... A man less holy than Frollo would be well under her thrall by now, unable to tear his eyes away from the display of smooth, dark skin and winking green eyes.
But that is why she continues, isn't it? She knows that he is pure, unaffected by her shameless presentation. What she does now is no ordinary gypsy trick, but designed to overcome even his rock-hard faith, and ensnare his soul for her dark purposes. She dances now, bending her slim figure in the most sinful of ways, for him alone.
He will not, he cannot fall to this foul temptress, no matter how smooth her skin, how red her lips, how luscious the curves of her body. He
( ... )
PART 3 - Phoebus has a crushlit_wolfJanuary 23 2011, 09:05:26 UTC
Esmeralda dances, and it is the most beautiful thing Phoebus has ever seen.
She dances with such grace, such vitality, not simply following steps but living the dance, and loving every second of it. Her eyes are sparkling, her hair falling in an ink-black cloud around her face, her every movement an exercise in loveliness. Even the skirt of her dress is lovely, flaring and draping almost as fast as she moves, so that it may as well be a part of her body itself.
Phoebus appreciates a beautiful woman, and she certainly is a fine example of one - but there is something in her he has never seen before, a certain spark, a brand of spirit and liveliness. The curve of her hips draws him in, but the look on her face is what leaves him there, not wanting to look away. He has seen many lovely women, French or gypsies or otherwise, but never one quite like her.
Every move she makes is an invitation, an open offer; not for carnal pleasure, but simply to join her, to get up and join his movements with hers in the dance. And he wants to, he
( ... )
Nope, not three prompts in one post; just one prompt involving three couples. While Esmeralda dances during the Festival of Fools, examine the thoughts/fantasies that are playing through their heads. These three men would have very different thoughts regarding our favorite gypsy girl.
Quasi = innocence, naivete
Frollo = lust, greed
Phoebus = love, beauty
Feel free to take up just one third of the prompt (it could be a three-way collaberation) or take on all three at once!
Reply
Her eyes are closed as she spins and steps, the pure joy of dancing written in her face and her smile. The same smile she'd flashed him earlier, the one that made his heart pound in a way that had nothing to do with the thrill of the Festival. For a moment, he can imagine that her smile is meant for him - really him, not the mask that she thinks he wears.
Master forbids him to read fairytales, for they are the words of the devil. But Quasimodo has caught snippets, here and there; he knows about things like true love, and living happily ever after. He knows there is a story about a woman who learned to love a beast, although he does not know how it ends.
Quasimodo prays every night and every morning, thanking God for this life he is unworthy to live. He deserves no favors, no divine attention; to ask anything more than he has would be nothing short of blasphemy. But this isn't a real prayer, just a - a wish, as quick and fleeting as a shooting star. Up in the ( ... )
Reply
Her body twists and sways, her red lips curving in a wicked grin. She is a heathen witch, a succubus sent from the mouth of Hell itself to tempt the weak and indulgent - look at how she shakes her hips, look at how she arches her back, look at the arcing shape of her breasts under the thin cloth of her dress... A man less holy than Frollo would be well under her thrall by now, unable to tear his eyes away from the display of smooth, dark skin and winking green eyes.
But that is why she continues, isn't it? She knows that he is pure, unaffected by her shameless presentation. What she does now is no ordinary gypsy trick, but designed to overcome even his rock-hard faith, and ensnare his soul for her dark purposes. She dances now, bending her slim figure in the most sinful of ways, for him alone.
He will not, he cannot fall to this foul temptress, no matter how smooth her skin, how red her lips, how luscious the curves of her body. He ( ... )
Reply
She dances with such grace, such vitality, not simply following steps but living the dance, and loving every second of it. Her eyes are sparkling, her hair falling in an ink-black cloud around her face, her every movement an exercise in loveliness. Even the skirt of her dress is lovely, flaring and draping almost as fast as she moves, so that it may as well be a part of her body itself.
Phoebus appreciates a beautiful woman, and she certainly is a fine example of one - but there is something in her he has never seen before, a certain spark, a brand of spirit and liveliness. The curve of her hips draws him in, but the look on her face is what leaves him there, not wanting to look away. He has seen many lovely women, French or gypsies or otherwise, but never one quite like her.
Every move she makes is an invitation, an open offer; not for carnal pleasure, but simply to join her, to get up and join his movements with hers in the dance. And he wants to, he ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment