#dance a merry jig | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

willowbelle · 1 month

Text

Wasted

❤︎ roronoa zoro x fem reader ❤︎

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

cw: tipsy sex, dom!zoro, sub!/slightly bratty reader, zoro is a tease, zoro is commanding, teasing, edging, arm-pinning, thigh-riding, oral (blowjob), wall-sex, spanking, creampie.

summary: reader is a strawhat. zoro and reader hook up after a party on the sunny. ;) strawhats know what's up.

word count: ~4,400

tagging: @bby-deerling @eelnoise @3v37773 @laylaloves-ed @shamblespirate @lowkeycasanova @maddddstuff

Wasted

A celebration was in the works for your crew following a recent victory.

The horizon blushes with hues of orange and pink, its kiss with the sky mirrored by the gentle lapping of waves against The Sunny's hull.

Above, strings of shimmering lights twinkle like stars, casting a soft glow upon the gathering, as if the cosmos themselves had descended to partake in the festivities.

As the sun dips below the horizon, the deck of your ship transforms into a stage, bathed in the golden embrace of dusk, setting the scene for an evening of celebration

Amidst the joyous throng, laughter and music fill the air; liquor on your tongues.

Luffy whirls Chopper around in a playful dance, while Usopp and Franky share a merry jig, their spirits soaring in the jubilant atmosphere.

"Hey, Chopper, check this out! I'm gonna be the Pirate King of the dance floor, too!" Luffy exclaims with a wide grin, his enthusiasm contagious.

Chopper giggles, clinging to Luffy's arm as they whirl around. "You're doing great, Luffy! But try not to spin me too fast, I'm getting dizzy!"

Luffy chuckles, slowing down his movements slightly. "Sorry about that, Chopper! But hey, we've got to celebrate our victory properly, right? Dancing is the best way to do it!"

Chopper nods eagerly, his tiny hooves tapping along to the beat. "Absolutely, Captain! Let's keep dancing until the sun comes up!"

----

The ambiance is one of warmth, brightness, and sheer exuberance, a testament to the camaraderie and triumph that define the partygoers.

In the bustling midst of The Sunny's jubilant celebration, a lone figure perches at the makeshift bar, silently observing the lively scene unfolding before him. His eye is fixed on you, even amidst the swirling dance floor.

Your movements are graceful and carefree, dancing along with Nami and Robin as you giggle drunkenly.

As you sway and twirl with the girls, lost in the euphoria of the moment, you catch a glimpse of the swordsman seated at the bar. His eyes seem to linger on you, a silent observer amidst the festivities. You can't quite place the expression on his face – is it longing, admiration, or something else entirely?

Despite the haze of alcohol clouding your senses, you can't shake the feeling of being watched. The music pulses around you, the beat thrumming through your veins, but his steady gaze holds your attention like a lighthouse beacon cutting through the fog.

With each playful spin and merry laugh, you find yourself stealing glances in his direction. Zoro’s always been mysterious, but tonight, his stoic gaze feels… different.

“Too much to drink, y/n?” Nami giggles, “You keep looking at Zoro. He’s so boring, sitting there all alone,” she scoffs playfully.

“Oh shut up,” you giggle, playfully swatting at the navigator’s arm, “Says you! You can barely stand up straight!”

As you continue to dance with Nami, your mind can't help but wander back to the mysterious swordsman at the bar. Sensing your distraction, Robin gives you a knowing smile and gently nudges your arm.

"Lost in thought, dear?" Robin's voice is soft, barely audible above the music.

You nod sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. "I can't shake the feeling that someone's watching me," you confess, casting another glance in Zoro's direction.

Robin follows your gaze, her expression thoughtful. "Zoro does seem particularly focused tonight," she observes, her eyes flickering with curiosity. "But perhaps it's not boredom that keeps him seated there alone."

Her words pique your interest, and you turn to her with a quizzical expression. "What do you mean, Robin?"

Robin offers you a reassuring smile, her gaze steady. "I've learned that sometimes, silence speaks louder than words. Perhaps Zoro has something on his mind that he's not quite ready to share."

----

As the music swells and your drinking continues, your curiosity gets the better of you. Excusing yourself from the dance, you navigate through the lively crowd towards the lone figure at the bar.

With each step, the anticipation builds within you, mingling with the alcohol-induced courage coursing through your veins. As you draw closer, you notice the subtle tension in Zoro's frame, a flicker of surprise crossing his features as he meets your gaze.

With a light sway in your step and a playful giggle escaping your lips, you approach him, the warmth of the alcohol coloring your cheeks. "Hey there, lone swordsman,” you chirp, “Mind if i join ya?” you don’t even wait for his response before sliding onto the stool beside him with a less-than-graceful plop.

Zoro's expression softens, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he gestures to the stool, "Be my guest," he replies gruffly.

Zoro arches a brow, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Looks like someone's had a bit too much fun," he observes, amusement evident in his tone.

You giggle again, nodding enthusiastically. "Maybe just a little," you admit, feeling a sudden burst of boldness fueled by the alcohol coursing through your veins. "But I couldn't resist coming to chat with the mysterious Zoro."

A chuckle escapes Zoro's throat as he leans back against the bar, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of intrigue. "Mysterious, huh?" he muses, swirling the contents of his drink thoughtfully. "I like the sound of that."

Perching on the stool, you steal a moment to take in his rugged features, the dim light casting shadows across his face. There's a quiet strength about him, an aura of mystery that draws you in.

"Sooooo, what's with the solitary act?" you slur playfully, “Why don’t ‘cha join us out there?”

Zoro chuckles, a low rumble that reverberates through the air. "Not my scene," he grumbles, taking a sip from his drink. "Besides, someone's gotta keep watch."

"Fair enoughhhh," you reply, your words trailing off as you glance back towards the dance floor where the party shows no signs of slowing down. The music pounds in your ears, and you find yourself swaying to the rhythm even as you sit at the bar.

For a moment, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the music providing a soothing backdrop to your conversation. As you steal glances at Zoro, you can't help but wonder about the thoughts swirling behind his enigmatic gaze.

With a tipsy grin, you lean a little closer to Zoro, feeling a sudden surge of boldness. "You knowww," you begin, your words slightly slurred but filled with earnestness, "I've been thinking about you."

Zoro's eyebrows raise in mild surprise, his gaze shifting to meet yours with a mix of curiosity and amusement. "Oh, really?" he responds, his tone tinged with a hint of intrigue.

"Yeah," you continue, a playful lilt in your voice. "I mean, you're always off doing your own thing, being all mysterious and brooding... It's kinda hard not to think about you."

A ghost of a smile plays at the corners of Zoro's lips as he listens to your rambling confession. "Well, I suppose I should take that as a compliment," he remarks, his tone teasing yet genuine.

You nod enthusiastically, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his response. "Definitely," you affirm, a playful twinkle in your eye. "You've got this whole mysterious thing going on, and I gotta admit, it's pretty intriguing."

Zoro's gaze softens, a flicker of something unreadable dancing in his eyes. "I'm glad you think so," he replies, his voice quieter, now, more sincere.

"You've been thinking about me, too, right?" you tease, your words laced with playful skepticism. You flirtatiously twirl a strand of hair between your fingertips as you await his response.

Zoro's expression softens, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah," he admits before taking a sip of his drink, "But what makes you so sure of that?"

Your heart skips a beat at his confession, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of being on his mind. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised," you quip, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. "I mean, who wouldn't think about me?"

A low chuckle rumbles in Zoro's chest as he shakes his head in amusement. "You've got a point there," he concedes, his gaze intense as it lingers on you.

Emboldened by his admission, you take a sip of your drink before continuing. "It’s pretty obvious, you know, i've noticed all that staring," you toy, a hint of bashfulness creeping into your voice.

Zoro's eyebrows raise in mild surprise, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of curiosity and something deeper. "Have you now?" he teases back.

You nod, feeling a rush of boldness coursing through you. "Yeah," you reply, a flush creeping across your cheeks. "And I have to say, I kinda like it."

A flicker of something unreadable dances in Zoro's eyes as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Well, then," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, "Maybe we should do something about it."

As Zoro's breath grazes your skin, sending a surge of anticipation coursing through you. The air crackles with tension, each moment stretching out as you wait for his next move.

With a boldness you didn't know you possessed, you lean in closer, your lips hovering just inches from his. "I think that's a fantastic idea," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the soft music that still fills the air.

Zoro's gaze darkens with desire as he closes the remaining distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that ignites a fire deep within your core. In that moment, all doubts and reservations melt away, leaving only the raw, undeniable passion that burns between you.

With a shared breathless smile, Zoro gently takes your delicate hand in his calloused one, his touch causing sparks to erupt beneath your skin. "Come with me," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, “Too crowded here.”

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest as you follow him through the dimly lit corridors of the ship. Each step brings you closer to an unknown destination, yet you trust in the magnetic pull drawing you towards him.

----

As you walk together in silence, the air thick with anticipation, you steal glances at Zoro, admiring the way his muscles flex beneath his fitted shirt and the intensity in his eyes. Despite the darkness of the corridor, you feel a warmth spreading through you, fueled by the promise of what's to come.

Finally, you arrive at Zoro's quarters, the door sliding open with a soft hiss. Stepping inside, you're enveloped in the intimate glow of candlelight, casting shadows that dance across the walls.

Before you can even catch your breath, Zoro presses you firmly against the wall, his strength evident in his forcefullness.

With a hunger that matches your own, Zoro leans in closer, his lips capturing yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. It's as if he's staking his claim, pouring all his pent-up desire and longing into your lips.

“Mm,” he groans lowly into your mouth.

Filled with a surge of daring, you lift your hand to tangle your fingers in his hair, urging him closer. You revel in the intoxicating taste of him—a mingling of sea salt and booze—it electrifies your senses. His presence is overpowering, emitting a primal scent of sweat and masculinity, tempered only by a faint hint of weak cologne.

Your tongues collide in a fierce, passionate dance, each movement conveying a raw hunger and urgency that leaves you breathless. It's as if you're drowning, and his mouth is your lifeline.

You feel the corners of his lips curling into a knowing smirk at your desperation, and in a swift, decisive motion, he seizes the opportunity to grasp your wrists firmly. With a firm yet gentle touch, he maneuvers your arms above your head, pinning them against the wall as he presses his body against yours.

“Needy thing, aren’t ya?” he grins wolfishly, making heat pool in your core.

With a low growl, he leans in closer, his lips trailing a path of fire along your jawline and down to your neck.

Your head instinctively lulls back, giving him more access to your throat.

“Mm, Zoro,” you huff lustfully, “Want you so bad…”

As he continues to sloppily kiss down the column of your neck, he brings his right knee up to slot between your legs, making you gasp softly into his mouth.

“Come on, baby,” he groans.

Zoro's hands abandon their place around your wrists, descending to grip your breasts firmly. His calloused palms mold your soft flesh, eliciting a small squeak of delight from your lips.

“F-Fuck,” you curse softly.

As you continue to rock your hips against him, the heat between you intensifies, the tension building to an almost unbearable peak. His touch is urgent, his kisses hungry, as if he's determined to consume you entirely.

"Do you like that, y/n?" he growls against your neck, his voice thick with desire. "Losing yourself on me like this?"

Driven by an insatiable need, your hands find their way to his back, your nails digging into his muscles as you cling to him desperately.

"M-mhm," you whimper in agreement, unable to form coherent words as you lose your composure.

His grip on your breasts tightens, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. You can feel the primal urgency in his touch, the intensity of his desire mirrored in the way he ravishes you.

But suddenly, he stops, making you whine out at the loss of contact as he slowly pulls away from you.

His eyes are hungry as you looks you over. Iris moving up and down your form like a predator stalking its prey.

“Get on your knees,” he grumbles lustfully.

His command sends a shiver down your spine, and yet, you obey immediately, sinking to your knees before the swordsman.

As you lower yourself, you feel a surge of heat pooling in your core, the anticipation of what's to come making your heart pound within your chest.

Without a word, he reaches out, his fingers tangling in your hair as he gently guides your head forward.

You inhale sharply, your breath catching in your throat as you feel his warmth close in on you. And then, you do as you have been silently told, pressing your lips to his skin, kissing him with a fervor born of pure desire.

His arousal is evident; rock hard and pulsing beneath each press of your lips to his crotch.

His toned arms snake down, deftly tugging at his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers in one fluid motion. His cock springs free, bobbing against his muscular abdomen, a potent symbol of his arousal.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in the sight of the man before you. He’s magnificent. His cock is big, thick; looks heavy, even.

As your eyes roam over him, he notices your reaction and smirks, a self-satisfied chuckle escaping his lips. He takes your chin between his fingertips, tilting your gaze upwards to meet his.

"Don't drool now," he teases, his voice laced with smug confidence, knowing damn well how well-endowed he is.

You swallow hard, your cheeks flushing with desire as you meet his gaze. His confidence is intoxicating, his dominance igniting a primal hunger within you that demands to be sated.

With trembling hands, you reach out, unable to resist the temptation before you. Your fingers trace along the length of his cock, marveling at its girth and hardness.

He groans softly at your touch, his eyes darkening with desire as he watches you with hungry anticipation. Encouraged by his response, you wrap your hand around him, feeling the weight of him in your grasp.

"Fuck," he breathes out, his voice husky with need.

You continue to stroke him, your movements becoming more confident as you explore every inch of him eagerly.

His breaths grow heavier with each stroke, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward to meet your touch.

“Open your mouth,” he rasps.

You comply eagerly, parting your lips to accommodate him as he guides himself towards you.

He watches you intently, his gaze smoldering with lust as he revels in the sight of you submitting to him so willingly.

With a groan of satisfaction, he slides into your mouth, filling you completely with his hardness. You take him eagerly, savoring the taste of him, the weight of him on your tongue.

As he fills your mouth, you can't help but moan in pleasure, the sensation of him stretching you sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body.

"Mm," you moan around him, the sound vibrating against his skin and sending a shiver down his spine.

Encouraged by your response, he begins to move, thrusting gently into your mouth as he sets a steady rhythm.

“Fuck,” he groans, letting his head fall back, “Such a good girl, taking me so well.”

You revel in the praise that falls from his lips, a delicious affirmation of your obedience.

You can feel the thick tip of his cock meeting the back of your throat with each thrust, but you dismiss the discomfort, you just want to please him.

As you continue to take him deeper, you can feel the intensity of his desire growing, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he nears the edge.

But instead of welcoming his orgasm, Zoro catches your face in his hand, holding your jaw to make you halt your efforts.

"Stand up," he commands huskily, his voice thick with need as he withdraws from your mouth.

You giggle playfully, wiping the drool from your chin. "Jeez, Zoro," you tease, "On your knees, open your mouth, stand up,” you mock, “What's next? You want me to do a handstand?"

Zoro smirks, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Do you want me to fuck you or not?" he grumbles, his tone laced with desire and impatience.

Your playful demeanor melts away at the threat of his words, replaced by a surge of arousal. With a playful roll of your eyes, you comply, rising to your feet and turning to face him, anticipation thrumming through your veins as you await his next move.

With a firm yet gentle hand, he guides you towards the wall, pressing your chest-first against its cool surface. The contact sends a shiver of pleasure coursing through you, heightening the intensity of your arousal.

As you’re pressed breasts against the wall, you can feel the heat of his body against your back, his presence looming over you with an almost palpable intensity.

He presses himself against you, his hardness pressing into the small of your back.

You gasp at the contact, the heat of his arousal searing against your skin as you feel the full weight of his desire pressing into you. It's a delicious torment, the promise of pleasure mingling with the anticipation of what's to come.

"Feel how much I want you," Zoro's voice is low and husky against your ear as he presses himself closer, his breath hot against your skin.

You tremble at his words, “I-I want you, too, Zoro,” you whine.

He lets out a low growl of satisfaction, his hands trailing down your sides as he pulls your hips back to get you closer.

"Good," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear from behind, “Tell me how bad you want it, y/n, Or I won’t give it to you at all.”

Your breath hitches at his ultimatum. "I want it so bad, Zoro.” you whimper needily, “I need you to fuck me. Please."

You can’t see his face, but you swear you can feel his familiar smirk as he speaks against your ear, "That's what I wanted to hear," he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

With a firm grip on his cock, he guides the tip to nudge at your weeping entrance, teasing you with the promise of entry. You gasp at the sensation, your breath catching in your throat as you await the intrusion.

He begins pressing himself inside you, groaning at the feeling of you stretching out around him. With each inch, he delves deeper, filling you completely with his throbbing hardness. The sensation is overwhelming, sending waves of both pleasure and pain coursing through your body.

“O-Oh, Zoro-!” you cry out weakly.

He leans forward, his breath hot against your skin as he bites along your nape,

"Sh-Shit," he curses through gritted teeth, his voice strained with pleasure, "So tight-" His words trail off into a guttural groan as he buries himself deep inside you, unable to resist the overwhelming sensation of being enveloped by your warmth.

You gasp at the feeling of him filling you completely, your body pulsating with pleasure as you surrender to the intoxicating intrusion.

His hand snakes up to grip the back of your neck as he finally begins to thrust in and out of you.

“Fuck-!” you whimper, your attempts to dig your nails into the wall futile against the onslaught of pleasure.

With a firm grip on your neck, he develops a steady rhythm, keeping you pressed against the wall as he moves in and out of you. Each thrust hits your sweet spot with precision, sending waves of ecstasy rippling through your body.

“Shit,” he groans, “You squeeze me so tight-”

A symphony of moans and gasps spills from your lips, mingling with his own guttural groans of pleasure. The room is quickly filled with the rhythmic sound of your bodies colliding, a passionate cacophony that echoes off the walls.

With a sudden motion, he pulls back slightly, his hand leaving your neck and landing firmly on your exposed ass, delivering a sharp spank that sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

You gasp at the sudden sensation, your body instinctively arching towards him, craving more of the delicious sting. The impact leaves a tingling warmth in its wake, heightening the intensity of your arousal.

"Zoro," you whimper, your voice a mixture of pleasure and desire, your nails digging into the wall as you brace yourself for more.

Encouraged by your response, he delivers another spank, each strike awakening a primal hunger within you.

With each spank, he relishes in the way your body reacts, the way you gasp and arch towards him, begging for more.

"Such a slut for me," he growls, "You like it rough, don't you?"

You whimper in response, unable to form coherent words as pleasure courses through you, mingling with the sting of his touch.

He chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, "Let me hear how much you enjoy it."

You moan in response, the sensation of his hand against your skin driving you to the edge of ecstasy.

The pace of his thrusts never falters as he grants you with more delicious spanks.

He’s thrusting rougher, now, impressed with how much you can take.

"You take me so good, y/n," he groans, his voice strained with desire and admiration. The praise only fuels your arousal further, spurring you on as you both chase the heights of pleasure together.

“Th-Thank you, Zoro,” you whimper weakly, “You fuck me so good-”

You're both teetering on the brink of release as he continues moving in and out of you, the tension coiling tighter with each passing moment. His breath comes in ragged gasps against your ear, matching the rhythm of your moans as you both surrender to the pleasure of the moment.

"Fuck, y/n," he groans, his voice strained with desire, "I'm so close..."

You whimper in response, the pleasure overwhelming as you feel the heat building deep within you. With each thrust, you edge closer and closer to the pinnacle of ecstasy.

With a final, desperate thrust, you both topple over the edge of ecstasy. Zoro groans as he spills inside you, unapologetically painting your insides white.

And with that, the tension that had been coiling within your lower tummy finally snaps, releasing a torrent of pleasure that sends shockwaves through your veins and straight to your head. Colors explode beneath your eyelids as you're consumed by the intensity of your climax, every nerve ending ablaze with sensation.

In that moment, there's only the two of you, engulfed throes of pleasure.

----

The following morning, as the golden rays of sunlight filter through the windows of the ship, you and Zoro emerge from his quarters, your steps in sync as you walk side by side. There's a subtle ease in the air between you, a silent understanding of the shared intimacy that had transpired between you the night before.

As you enter the dining room, the crew's eyes dart up from their breakfast plates, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement. Sanji's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips, while Nami's eyes sparkle with mischief as she exchanges a glance with Robin.

Nami's mischievous grin widens as she leans back in her chair, her eyes flickering between you and Zoro. "Sounds like you two had fun last night," she quips, her tone dripping with playful innuendo.

You feel a flush creep up your cheeks at her teasing remark, but before you can respond, Zoro interjects with his usual gruff demeanor. "Mind your own business, navigator," he retorts, though there's a faint hint of amusement in his voice.

Luffy, ever oblivious to subtleties, beams at the two of you, his mouth already full of food. "Morning, guys! Did you sleep well?" he chirps, completely unaware of the implications of his question.

You exchange a glance with Zoro, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes as you both share a silent understanding. With a shrug, Zoro responds in his typical gruff manner, "Like a log."

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smolvenger · 1 month

Text

My Lord (Prince Hal x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: After you dance with another man, Prince Hal, your royal intended has a confession to make...

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ (fingering, p in v sex, doing it on a desk), historical inaccuracies for the sake of vibes, grammar and spelling mistakes, angst and fluff.

Dick-tionary: Smut starts at “Kiss me again, my dove,” and ends at "You pressed foreheads, feeling his warm breath and how soft his skin felt- comforting, gentle. "

Word Count: 3K

A/N: From @muddyorbsblr's request! It ended up being longer, oops. But enjoy!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

Despite your fine dress and the rich wine flowing, you felt somber at your betrothal ball. Not that the ball itself was a sad event. No, you were not merry from everything around you. It was all merry with the throne room decorated with flowers and jigs being played by the musicians. Your melancholy was due to your intended.

Of all the good lords and gentlemen on this green isle, only one was destined to be the next king. And that was who you were going to marry. Your parents were thrilled when the king agreed to the marriage. They smiled and embraced you as an artist hugged their painting. They managed to sell you to the highest bidder.

His Majesty Prince Henry the Fourth of Lancaster. The highest bidder indeed.

Or Hal, as the taverns ruffians called him. Hal. Riotous, dishonorable, pranking, thieving, tavern hopping, wench chasing, sack drinking Hal. Beautiful, princely, decadent Hal. Every time his brothers had to tell their father the truth of Hal’s layabouts…the king would turn red with fury. Not that you were surprised.

Even if the scoundrel you were going to call your husband had been kind to you these past few months. He would be by your side. And trying to win you over or get you to smile. Flirt with you- he did to hundreds of women at this point! No doubt! Your inner giddiness was mixed with a silent rage and you weren’t sure which would pop out first each time he got your hand and kissed it gently. Hal was beautiful. A handsome, handsome man who wore his doublets tight on his lean frame and walked with a swagger, his auburn curls freed about his head. There was a charm to his manner, and feelings were in you when you looked at him. Feelings you didn’t like. Feelings you didn’t dare name.

For that, you remained polite. Never forward. Nice, but nothing more. For what else could you do? The world of court could be deadly and dangerous. The world’s eyes were on you. You couldn’t afford to make a reckless move.

Despite the garden walks and meals, there was that sliver of distrust. If you didn’t see him, he could be on the floor of the filthiest bar in Eastcheap passed out on the floor from drink. Or in a room with two tavern women in positions that would make a sailor blush.

And the last picture of him in bed with other women- it made you want to scream and sob and throw your goblet at the wall until it smashed into a hundred bits and then pick your skirts, march to the other end of the room, and slap him hard across his beautiful face.

You took a deep breath.

It was just your imagination. Nothing actually happened. One inhale, then another exhale. The walls were grey stone, the candlelight yellow, and the music from a flute was playing something fast.

Why were you like this, you had to remind yourself! You didn’t like him! Why should that matter? You had to remember how much you didn’t care and didn’t like him.

He could have every woman in England on their knees for him every night and you would not care. You would go about your merry way and when you didn’t have to squeeze out a son, you would enjoy the monetary benefits of servants, fine dresses, horses, gold, jewels, money to buy whatever thing you wanted, and the freedom to do as you pleased as queen.

You held your chin up. Only glad it was a lovely party. All were taking gentle sips of wine, sampling the roast boar, listening to lutes, and laughing over nothing. You felt like doing none. In a whole crowd of people, you felt alone, isolated, and cut off. Like a foreigner trying to make a friend but never knowing how to speak the language. They gathered and talked…and here you were. The most wanted and yet also the most unwanted.

Taking a deep breath, you continued to walk in to try to get your mind off of things.

There were dances as well. But you felt as if your soles were made of lead. For all were celebrating your marriage to this scoundrel.

This beautiful, delectable, leather-clad scoundrel. Looking at him across the room, something inside you churned. And you were frightened to name it.

He was in the corner, talking to his brothers. You turned your eyes down. For the party was in swing and in a way, as if they forgot you were its purpose. They wanted to laugh and gossip and drink. Forget their worldly cares and be merry.

You brought your eyes up to search for him. Your heart beat a little harder seeing Prince Hal at the other end of the room. How delicious he looked. His tight leather jacket was the color of the wine. He preferred rougher, bawdier parties- that was why he was frowning as his father went up to talk to him. And here you were, just to be tolerated as his bride. It seemed queenhood was a lifetime away, as was your marriage. For all of this fuss over you both being joined, you couldn’t help but feel separated.

Taking a deep breath, you put both hands on your cup and took another sip, resisting the urge to gulp down your wine and let the alcohol take its effect.

As you walked in, the Lord of Warwick went up.

“My lady- here is my nephew, Thomas! He’s going to appear at Court more often!” the lord introduced.

You curtsied and gave a smile.

The Lord of Warwick’s nephew with his own blonde hair and blue eyes and skin that tanned. He was a polite, warm friendly boy. For having just met him, he left a good impression on you. The uncle even stepped aside to let you talk. Then Thomas held out a hand.

“They’re having dances. Would you give me a dance, my lady?”

“I would love to,” you replied.

You enjoyed his company as you danced. He was very good too- Hal himself had no “strength in measure” and was inches from always stepping on your toes the grand total of two times you danced. Passing between couples, joining, parting, and reasoning hands to the lute music. You felt at peace.

Little did you know Hal’s eyes were on you.

They were on you every time you the whole evening.

Prince Hal scowled. He was practically red with anger. The second the dance ended, he marched up to you. Thomas looked sickly pale and you felt your stomach drop. You never saw Hal himself have any anger and part of you was terrified. They always say it’s the ones who are never angry you watch out for.

“My lord, what is the matter?” you asked after your curtsey.

“I would like to speak with my lady intended,” Hal ordered.

Thomas handed you over quickly.

Amidst the ball, Hal grabbed your arm. Fie, his hand- large, beautiful hands taking a whole of your arm and dragging you to the hallways and through a door. Jesu, was he going to hurt you? Hal never once did anything that would harm you. He seemed too mischievous and cheerful to seem capable of raising his hand to a woman, much less you. There was a fierceness on his fast that made your heart race. You didn’t know if you were feeling lust, terror, or both at once.

The room was a study. The night sky shone outside, though there were lights from the torches and candles. None were inside-perhaps at the party. With tall bookshelves and desks, it would have been a comforting room had your heart been beating wildly against your ribs.

He looked at you up and down. He saw your dress, how it formed you well, and hugged you in the right places. A warmth flushed over you, and you realized you were panting a little to deepen your breaths. But his face was still angry. Beautifully, beautifully angry.

“What, what is the matter?” you asked. Hoping to get this over with quickly.

“Quite a bit, that is the matter!” Hal replied, ruffling his curly hair.

You gestured at the door.

“My lord, they will notice we are gone. We have a party to attend to…”

Hal reached up a hand that he held in the air. You looked back at him. His voice remained soft, matter of fact, right to the bone.

“My lady, we have to discuss young Warwick. The way you were dancing at him, smiling at him.”

“Oh, him!” you said. You had deduced it. He just had to say it himself.

“Yes! The look he was giving you like he would be falling before your feet any minute! Your smile at him! And you were encouraging him, and I-”

“Are you jealous, Harry?” you interrupted, blurting out the obvious.

He turned a little pink.

“Yes, well- what if I am? Should I not be if a gentleman dances with my lady?”

“A lady can rarely turn down another man. My mother told me it is impolite to refuse a man’s offer to dance!” you reasoned.

Hal leaned closer to you.

“You have promised yourself to me, not him! You’re engaged to me!”

He paused and his mouth hung in mid-air. You saw his eyes were shining bright, he was…on the brink of tears. The jolliest scoundrel in all of England and…he was crying. When you imagined him with other women earlier…was that the very feeling he was having as well?

You closed the distance to him, you offered your hand and he took it.

“Hal, I am sorry. I didn’t think you would be upset or even care that I danced with him…” you consoled.

He brought up a hand and wiped a tear off with his palm.

“I forgive you, my lady. Only….That the way you were beaming at him, and not at me, I…I don’t even have words for it and- YN- it makes me angry because…because…I wish it were me you were smiling at…me and only me. That one smile. Then I’d know for sure that you’d love me and we could be find a way to-”

You gasped.

“What did you say?!”

Your face was closer to his, your voice even softer. He paused. His tears stopped.

“You…you love me?”

He flushed, hung his head low, and then back up.

“I do, my sweeting. I love you so much. I don’t know how else to say it or what speeches or things to give. If I am under your spell, I never wish to be out of it. I don’t ask you to love me back at all…I only ask you…you… pity me.”

His face was right before words. Your own mouth began to speak of its own accord. The music was softer, and distant, as if the ball was a world away.

“Hal…even with everything in Eastcheap, I…I… I…I cannot help but…but want to see you, and speak to you, I think of you and wonder what you are doing when you’re away. And I…I worry about you. I want you happy- more than happy, safe.”

He closed the distance and kissed you. The first kiss you ever had other than chaste pecks on the hand. You shuddered at it as he wrapped his hands around you, one hand crawling up your back. He knew his way around a woman’s body. And he knew what would make your knees tremble. You melted into his arms, collapsing into the kiss, into the embrace. He tasted of wine, of freedom.

He let go. But it was as if something awoke that was long asleep. You let him keep his hands on you, to feel your body beneath your dress—one on your hip, fingers inches away from the most private, precious of places on you. You kept on babbling despite yourself.

“All the battles your father sends you on and… and…I was worried, worried you would die…worried something would happen to you- and then, the Eastcheap visits….I was worried…worried you and Doll would.”

“There were no whores. Not since we’ve met,” he replied.

You kissed him again, and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms to feel his back. Dizzy and drink on him. You heard his moan.

He leaned back on a chair and had you straddle him. You gasped, feeling your legs come apart. Places between you were starting to dampen and it was just over where his most secret places were. You were never this close, this intimate with each other

“Kiss me again, my dove,” he commanded.

You kissed him again, his fingers crawling, up your leg. He found your hip and then moved you. You moaned from the friction, the touching and brushing of your bodies.

But you wanted it, you didn’t stop him.

His hands were over you, greedily touching since you were all his now-his betrothed, his wife, and soon his queen- and he would make sure you never forgot it. He gave you a last grind of your hips.

His hands desperately searched your clothes, trying to find the seams. But you were aching, going up for him, needing him.

“Hal- Hal!” you whispered

“And what if I do? I can’t bear it- the longer I’m with you, the more desire overcomes me- You drive me mad- I can’t, I can’t take it, my dear, my love-I-I have to ravish you, here-now-”

“Yes, you may…”

He slid aside the papers and books so the desk was clear. You swallowed, getting incredibly wet but excited with his flushed face. But his eyes determined, an animal after his prey. And nothing could tear him from his prize.

He kissed you, prompting you to sit. He undid a bit of your bodice, pulling it down, finding your breasts. The cold air touched it as his pupils darkened over the sight of you.

“You’re exquisite, darling, and you’re not his, you’re mine-”

Once they were revealed, he fondled them, thumb grazing over the hard nipples. You moaned appreciatively. All while he kissed your neck.

“Say it, say you’re mine,” he whispered.

“I’m yours,” you replied.

He then freed a hand. It moved up your leg.

“All of this, this beauty, it is all mine-and I’ll drive you there, until you cry out for all of them to hear.”

slid a finger inside and you gasped, feeling it stretch you. You gasped as he curled up- surprised his long finger could go so deep, and find a spot that brought so much pleasure and pain as he discovered the little nub inside you.

“My- my lord!”

He kissed your neck again, then looked at you, smugness spread on his lips.

“Yes….yes, call me that.”

He gathered your skirt up and then undid his codpiece and released his pants, standing at full attention. You gave a small gasp at the sight of his size. He looked at you darkly, a new tone in his voice- deadly and commanding, a king to his whore

“You will be good and make it fit, every bit of it. And you will call me my lord.”

His hands made your legs come wide apart, he moved you up. He was slow, entering you, so you got used to it. You let out a moan, tugging onto him.

“Yes…take it…like a good girl…take it.”

He forced your legs further apart, sheathing you in with a grunt. You let out a sound, your insides penetrated, clutching onto him, feeling your bare breasts against his leather. Your blouse fell lower, exposing both. He then gave a first, sloppy thrust. Then he was seated inside you.

“My lord!” you cried out.

“There-there- I will make you scream it louder,” he growled.

Then he began thrusting—his moans in your ear. You dug your fingers into his shoulders and grabbed your hips, keeping tight. The desk made a sound as you did. It began slowly.

“My-my lord, oh- gods- yes, there, my lord-gods-gods blood-”

It then picked up, your breasts bouncing and your heart racing. All you knew was him, felt was him. You were moaning even louder. It was a desperate, animal. Pounding his hips into yours.

He released one hand. It found your nub between. You gasped. He then strummed it with each deep, forceful, desperate pounding.

“H-My-My lord I-I-there-oh-oh god-I’m-I’m going-going to-to die, but- don’t-don’t-don’t stop-”

“You’re close, you’re-you’re close, darling-call me that-yes-now-fuck,yes-yes-

“Say it, say it when you cum-I’m-I’m going to cum-cum inside- cum, fie, lady- fie, it’s on me now- cum, fie, lady -cum!”

He picked it up incredibly fast, you held onto him, your pleasure spinning out of control.

“Yes- close, close- come on now, give in- let go-”

With a grunt, his seed shot into you and the release of pleasure broke inside you. You didn't say his title but gasped. The light had hit you and made everything duller, things spun, and you felt as if you were in oblivion.

In a final whisper, you only whispered once more “My…my lord…” Your nails dug into him- your lord, your intended, your prince, and your husband. A marriage not sworn but already consummated.

He pulled out, and then cupped your face, “as you are my lady.”

You pressed foreheads, feeling his warm breath and how soft his skin felt- comforting, gentle.

He helped you off and then readjusted your dress so all was well. Making sure the blouse covered you up and that your skirt was in place.

“Are you not hurt?” he asked.

“Not a bit.”

He wrapped a protective arm around you, leading you out.

“Here…we must return to the party…I will fetch us some wine.”

“And…you can have the next dance, my lord,” you said.

He smiled at you- not a naughty smile, but a kind, genuine smile that burst with love.

“As you have all of mine, my lady.”

His smile shone brighter than any candlelight. He gave you a last kiss before you were on his arm, returning to the party.

#smut #carrie writes #prince hal #prince hal x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston characters #angst with a happy ending #the hollow crown #prince hal fanfiction #prince hal x you #prince hal x y/n #prince hal smut #prince hal imagine #prince hal the hollow crown

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imsiriuslyreading · 5 months

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hiya... mind if i have a little complain?

OKAY i put my silly little face on my silly little tiktok and talk about these incredible fics i get to read and honestly i feel SO LUCKY to be here but when i tell you NOTHING GRINDS MY GEARS MORE than when people come into my comments to talk shit about a fic or a writer

like ??? are you quite well? bro, do you KNOW HOW LUCKY WE ARE, some of the fics I've read have c h a n g e d my life, genuinely. whether that be by a sentence in the story or the people I've met through them, world altering. all of it.

so the fact some people think they can dance their merry little jig into my space and talk the maddest shit about the work someone has done for free, when that writer has not only put so much of themselves into a story, but also been incredibly vulnerable by posting it online? i- you got the wrong one

i think when it comes to plot points or interesting dynamics, there can be really fulfilling conversations to be had and observations to be made. but shitting all over someones writing because its not how you'd write it?

(dis)respectfully, go and take your face for a shit

I JUST WANNA BE HERE WITH MY FRIENDS AND BE HAPPY AND READ ABOUT THE GAYS DOING THE GAY THINGS

#sorry #im not even sorry actually that was a lie #lanas crying again #but this time with RAGE #let me enjoy the dead gay wizards in peace you heathen

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maculategiraffe · 4 months

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merry christmas the baby has been asking for nothing but "a reindeer Pez dispenser" for the entire month of december and this morning there was a reindeer Pez dispenser in his stocking and he held it up over his head with both hands like a trophy and then kissed it and then danced a jig and then as my sister got out her phone to take his picture held it up next to his face and beamed and said "cheeeeeeeeese!!"

#baby nephew

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suppose-i-was-worm · 6 months

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Dragon Landing pt 1

**I've had this one floating around for a while and just today realized it was ready to post. Enjoy!**

Kon raged about his room, throwing anything that came to hand at the door, which stayed resolutely shut. His uncle, the king regent of Metropolis after the death of his father, had ordered it locked from the outside until Kon could “calm down”.

Calm down? Snarling, Kon threw another useless piece of decor at the door. How Lex expected him to calm down when he’d just been sold like slab of meat at the market, Kon had no idea.

Sold to marry a dragon, of all things.

Kon cursed the dragon and cursed Lex.

The young man who came as a herald to the dragon was good looking but uninteresting. He smiled and simpered at Lex, and then did the same to Kon.

Kon was pretty sure he was going to vomit if he had to deal with this much longer. The welcoming feast had already stretched on for hours, and the turbulence in his stomach at being forced to marry a dragon hadn’t subsided, even weeks after he’d been told.

At the earliest opportunity, he slipped away from the feast, glad that Lex was paying attention to someone else. No one other than his uncle really looked at him anyways, they wouldn’t notice his absence.

He didn’t notice the bright blue eyes following him out of the great hall and into the shadows of the Keep.

The stars glimmered down at him out in the gardens, and a cool breeze ruffled his hair like a friendly hand. Kon sat down gingerly on his favorite bench, steeling himself against the stone chilled by the night.

It was quiet between the rosebushes, nothing but the sounds of birds singing each other goodnight and bugs going about their business.

“The gardens are beautiful.”

Kon flinched at the voice, and turned angrily to scold the servant who dared disturb his peace.

The speaker was the dragon’s herald.

“I’m Danny, by the way. It’s nice to actually meet you, Prince Kon-el.”

“I would say the same in any other circumstance.”

Kon didn’t stand up to greet the other properly, choosing instead to turn away again once he’d said his piece.

“You did not volunteer to marry my lord?”

“Would anyone?”

He couldn’t help the vitriol in his voice.

“A prince marrying a stranger, a dragon, so that his regent could gain power? I think not.”

The herald made a considering noise in response.

“You do not agree with your uncle.”

It wasn’t a question, but Kon answered nonetheless.

“The day I agree with that man, someone ought to check me for spells.”

They were quiet for a long time- Kon seething against the constraints of royal duty and the herald- Danny?- thinking about whatever the hell it was he thought about.

“I shall leave you to your thoughts, your highness. I hope you will allow me to meet with you again.”

This time, Kon heard the man’s footsteps.

~~~

Over the days, Kon started noticing how pretty Danny was. The other man glowed in the light and shone in the darkness like a guiding star, and he seemed to want to orbit around Kon.

Every day after Kon’s lessons and training, Danny would pop up beside him from seemingly nowhere and drag him away- to walk through the town below the keep, to ride horses in the fields, and to explore the Keep.

He was never impolite to Lex, if they happened to cross paths, but the closer they came to the dragon coming, the less Kon saw of Lex, no matter what he was doing. And all the more he saw of Danny.

Silly Danny, who played merry games with the hunting dogs by the stables. Gentle Danny, who spoke with the gardeners at length about their craft. Lithe Danny, who danced pretty jigs with both men and women when there was music playing on the streets.

Lovely Danny, who began to look at Kon with stars in his wide blue eyes.

Heartless Danny, who extolled the virtues of the dragon hundredfold.

“He’s very nice, you know, once you get past the inability to rest for more than a moment.”

“Is he?”

Kon kept his eyes closed against the sun, listening to Danny chatter as they rested their horses in a meadow.

“Oh yes, my lord is- he’s very good. Odd, but what dragon isn’t? Kind and selfless and pretty enough most of the time.”

A bitter answer was on the tip of Kon’s tongue, but he kept it behind his teeth. It was no good asking Danny why he didn’t marry the dragon if he liked him so much.

“You’re falling asleep, Prince Kon-el.”

Kon felt a shadow fall over him and he opened his eyes to see Danny leaning over him. A hot flush crept up his cheeks at the sight of the other man looking down.

“It’s warm out.”

Danny laughed, a tinkling laugh like thousands of tiny bells.

“You’ll get a sunburn. Let’s return and see if we can’t get something sweet from the kitchens.”

The other man held a hand out, and Kon took it, allowing himself a moment of selfishness when Danny helped him upright.

~~~

“Prince Kon-el! Do you have a moment?”

Kon turned to see Danny hurrying down a hallway towards him.

“Of course, what can I help you with?”

The servant Kon had been speaking with bowed and made her way off, probably to relay his response to Lex.

“My lord is coming soon, and I need to practice my dancing for the celebration! Will you help me?”

On one hand, Kon could only see this turning out badly. He would be pressed close to Danny for minutes at a time, looking down into his wondrous eyes, and he wouldn’t be able to keep declarations of love to himself.

On the other hand, he would get precious time with Danny that would be ripped away from him all too soon.

He nodded, and Danny lit up with a smile.

“Wonderful! I’ve found an empty room to practice in.”

Kon allowed Danny to take his hand and lead him away.

He did not see the pair of eyes following them down the hall.

Kon was determined that he would at least kiss Danny once before the dragon came.

#dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #danny phantom #dpxdc #kon el #connor kent #fantasy au #dragons

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smile-files · 3 months

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today's the arthropod parade! where beetles dance and weevils sway -- the ants march with their twig batons; caddisflies have costumes on; the lantern lights come swinging by, carried by joyful fireflies; and spiders wave their silken flags -- antennae twitch, mandibles wag -- cicadas and the crickets sing, a harmony of buzzing wings; prancing mantids clap their hands, as the bees play in their band; the mayflies dance a merry jig, led by aphids and earwigs; stickbugs walk on stilts of wood -- no leafbug leaves, although they could, they stay to see whirligig clowns, who laugh and smile and twirl around; the dragonflies, they float like kites, whose strings are held by little mites; the larvae eat leaves overhead, they stay up late, past time for bed, to watch the roaming millipedes, whose stomping sounds like a stampede; as the show comes to a close, the butterflies and moths eclose; every insect shouts "hooray! we love the arthropod parade!"

#melonposting #poem #poetry #bugs #i wanted to write a silly poem!!! and it's about bugs!!!!! :)

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pareidoliaonthemove · 3 months

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Febwhump- DAY 5: rope burns , with Gordon

Ohhh, Gordon was not happy with the idea of being tied up! This one gave me no end of trouble in a good way)! Hope it hits the spot! [wanders off to deal with other prompts ...]

Summary: The best-laid plans of fish and men oft' times go awry.

Backfire

Gordon Tracy writhed. He twisted, wiggled, and convulsed.

Gordon Tracy seethed.

It wasn’t fair! His brothers were all off on rescues and he was ...

Trapped.

In more ways than one.

Firstly, he was trapped on this Island. Okay, that really was nothing new – unless it was for a rescue, he rarely left Tracy Island, but that was by choice. Now … now he was trapped. Trapped by his injuries, still not sufficiently healed for him to comfortably fly out to the mainland as a passenger, let alone as a pilot. So unless his family had the time – and flight hours – to take him, he was stuck here. And with the Hood and the Chaos Crew out and causing mayhem, that was less likely than Parker forgiving him for the bell.

Secondly, he was trapped on dry land. Even though he was now starting physio, and despite water-based physio being the most low-impact option, his various cuts and scratches, and surgical incisions were not yet healed enough – “They would be if you could have sat still, Gordon. You were impatient, and now you’re paying the price.” – for him to be allowed to risk water exposure. Blah, blah, bacteria, blah, blah, infection, blah, blah, weakened immune system, blah, blah, blah, No, Gordon! You can’t go swimming!

Which brought him to this situation. It was received Tracy Wisdom that a dry Fish was a frustrated Fish. And a frustrated Fish vented that frustration with pranks.

And what a prank! A veritable oldie, but goodie – as Grandma often reminded them, “there’s many a fine tune played on an old fiddle”, and Gordon had happily anticipated the merry jig Scott would dance as he succumbed to Gordon’s cunning.

It was simple, the old net in the sand trick. Easy to set up, and not too strenuous, so the Virgil and Grandma in his mind could stop their frowning and toe-tapping and shuffle back to their imaginary infirmary to roll bandages. Bury net under thin layer of sand, rig draw rope around the edges to pulley (already conveniently installed) in the trees, attach to counterweight (also already conveniently set up), set up trip wire across centre of net, and attach to support structure holding up counterweight. Wait for Scott to stumble into it on his morning run. Enjoy the chaos.

Except it hadn’t quite gone to plan.

Scott hadn’t been able to go on his morning run for the last week, and a Scott that couldn’t run was every bit as bad as a Scott that couldn’t fly. Simply put, he was getting on Gordon’s nerves (almost as much as being trapped), and Gordon’s nerves had quite enough to do, thank you, what with relaying to his brain in precise and pedantic detail exactly what part of his body was currently in pain at any given time, and exactly how much that pain hurt. Down to the last micro-ouch.

So that was the equation. Frustration + pain + Scott + anticipation = the call outs this morning being the final straw. Scott, Virgil and Alan had scattered across the globe on three separate missions, Kayo was off with Lady Penelope and Parker trying to anticipate (and head off) the Chaos Crew’s next attack, John had roped Grandma in to assist with dispatch duties, and Brains was locked up in his lab working on the mystery project that had been occupying him since they had recovered Braman.

And Gordon was trapped. Trapped and helpless, and frustrated, and couldn’t stand to stay in the villa one second longer, and had hobbled off to make his escape, down to the beach and across the sand.

Right into his own trap.

So here he was, thirdly, trapped in a suspended, swinging cargo net of his own contrivance. Helpless, and stuck, and alone, and in pain.

There would be no rescue until his brothers came back and noticed him missing. Which might be a while. He couldn’t call for help, because he had stupidly left his communicator in the lounge as he stormed out in a huff.

Gordon wiggled, trying to stretch out, to find a more comfortable position to wait out his captivity, but it soon became apparent that he had underestimated the appropriate size of the net required to contain an adult.

Note to self: obtain bigger net before he tries this on Scott again.

He quickly lost track of the time. Luckily, this position remained shaded from direct sunlight, first by the trees, then by the cliff face alongside the path; so sunburn wasn’t a danger. However, it was still hot, and he quickly became thirsty. Luckily he had brought his large water bottle with him, and even more luckily he hadn’t dropped it when the net had scooped him up, so he could hold off dehydration for a time.

The biggest problem was his position, cramped up into a ball at the bottom of the net, unable to flex his body enough to fully shift into a more comfortable position. And as he slid, and slumped, and wiggled, and twisted the thin nylon rubbed against his body, wearing through the thin medically approved garments he was wearing, light and soft and airy, and not at all up to protecting his skin from the abrasion of the ropes.

Gordon winced, as the breeze swung him gently, he twisted his arm around to examine the source of the irritation, and grimaced. The rub had quickly developed rope burn. He was never going to live this down.

And Scott was never going to let him out of the infirmary.

Sighing, Gordon settled back again, hoping it wouldn’t be too much longer before his brothers got home.

#febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday5 #thunderbirdds are go #gordon tracy #season 3 #fanfic #my fanfic

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leahnardo-da-veggie · 11 days

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The Beginning of the World

He dangled his feet off the ledge, peering curiously into the emptiness. The grass grew in thick, wild clumps around him, and his fingers toyed idly with the strands. A crown of flowers intertwined themselves with his hair, vibrant blossoms resting on the soft curls.

His eyes were twin suns, glowing with the blinding light of the stars. His laughter was the wind, merry and fickle. His heart beat in time with the waves. He swelled with power, growing with every beat.

Restlessness overtook him, racing on careless feet. Follow me, it seemed to say.

With a light-hearted bounce, he flipped himself off the ledge, back onto safety. His landing was immaculate, as always. The wind beckoned to him too, begging him to join in the fun, and he obliged.

Life was a thrum of music, a melody of animals and a harmony of plants, the deep bass of rocks and raspy whispers of the earth far below. Fire sang in her soprano, belting out the tempestuous ballad of life and death. Wind hummed cheerfully, irreverent and uncaring of the passions and despairs of mere mortals. Water swirled and splashed in rhythm to the cycles of mortality.

And he, ruler of them all, danced to the tune. It was polka, then jazz, then deep, heavy metal. It roared in his ears, dipping and rising like his breath. There were no words, only raw passion.

He twirled, leaped from treetop to treetop, then fell to the ground with the grace of a feather. Flowers blossomed where he stepped, a vivid explosion of blossoms and beauty. Birds gathered in a circle about him, a halo of sparrows and hawks and albatrosses.

The animals gathered below to watch his frolicking. There were deer with massive, branching antlers, and does with liquid, eloquent dark eyes. Rodents, mice and squirrels and rabbits, stared up at him, noses twitching with fascination. The wolves and lynxes stood side by side, enraptured by him. Time stopped in its passage to admire his mania.

This was the birth of a god, he thought. But a god was ruler of only one thing. He had become something else, something more. And he relished it, throwing his arms in the air to welcome it.

He was in the air, the fluid currents that glided effortlessly. He was in the waters, the crashing of waves into shore. He was in the fire and the earth. He was in everything, and everything was him.

Gone was the forest, gone was the precipice. He thought too small, he decided. It was time to see the full picture. And with the blithe laughter of the innocent he knew all.

Beneath the swirling waters and the murmuring winds lay death, drowning and suffocation, pain and suffering. The gaiety of the fire gave way to the agonised cries of burning alive.

The flowers crumbled to dirt in his hands, the deer and does becoming rotting carcasses. Dessicated bones lay scattered, slowly returning to the earth.

And the screams. Delicious, anguished pleas of the helpless, the grieving and the dying alike. The pain of the lemming in the jaws of the fox, the roar of the bear as an arrow dug into its flesh. The blood and the beatings and the bestings all rolled over him.

Death and Life. Pain and Joy. Bliss and Agony. Light and Darkness, Good and Evil. Everything and Nothing. It swirled in a pot of colours, a whirl and twirl of time and space.

He was Life. He was Death. He was Good and Evil, Order and Chaos. He was everything at once, and yet nothing.

He laughed at the folly of mortality. He laughed at their deaths, with the heedless bliss of the immortal. He laughed at their pain, their passions and their despairs, so inconsequential. His voice tinkled across the world, higher than the songs of the angels, lower than the beating of the world's heart.

And yet- He was a person! He belonged down on the ground, with two eyes instead of a million ones. He belonged with veins of blood, not of magic.

Magic, too, he was the god of. Magic which darted along the skyline, jigged on the edge of volcanoes. Magic who slept with the bear in the winter and cavorted with the fish. Magic that lay in everything, a stream of power that followed no rules, obeyed no orders, save his. He was the master of magic, mercurial, mischievous magic.

Don't, his soul begged. Don't do it. You're a person. Remember? You had loved.

He had been mortal once, he remembered in a dim part of his mind that still clung to those meaningless moments. He had been foolish and young.

And he had loved, indeed.

Love and Hatred. That he was too. He felt it in his bones, the snarl of rage and loathing, the rumble of protection and adoration. It flowed like an undercurrent of magma, molten iron in his veins. Love and hate moved the world, shaped it and moulded it. Fickle things, they were, but he was a fickle being. It suited him just fine.

The little bit of him cried and begged, screamed in haunting melancholia that would have broken any person's heart. No! No! Turn back! Go back to your old self! You're a person, not an infinity!

But he was no mere person, not anymore. Despair was a part of him, beautiful in its gut-wrenching agony.

no. please. It wasn't even a whisper, easily drowned out by the breath of the living. don't forget. Was it even his? It was so desperate, so pitiful, and he so mirthful, that it seemed unthinkable.

With a jolt, he remembered someone, someone who could have said those words. It was hard to think of a single individual, so complex was he. A face, perhaps, quickly whisked away by the annals of time. A person, someone he had loved and who had loved him in return. Naught but a memory.

don't let it end like this, the memory begged. please.

But what did he care for endings and beginnings? He was all, and nothing at once.

no- The voice was gone, forgotten by a flighty God. He tossed it out onto the wind, let the gusts toy with it and laughed along merrily.

His laughter was the harsh wind across the moors, the death rattles of soldiers in a war, the fires crackling as the world burned. It was mocking, uncaring, cruel. Yet it was the chirping of birds in the summer, the giggles of playful children, the autumn leaves crunching beneath running feet. It was bliss, endless and infinite joy. All the emotion in the world was packed into the ringing noise.

The world, he ruminated, was too small for him. He watched life wink out and flare back up, and decided to see more. See further. There were worlds beyond this, stars beyond his sun. He would see it all, he decided.

His gaze turned to the tiny precipice overlooking an endless chasm. It was impossible to focus on it, so microscopic it was. But it was the start of his world, and so it was where he would depart too.

How long had it been? One year? A hundred? A million? The trees had dwindled to gnarled husks, ancient grandmother's curling in on themselves. Capriciously, he laughed at their fragile shells.

He was in the swirling clouds and fluttering leaves, in the sky and the grass, and then in the chasm of the unknown. But he was not in the Void.

He was the Void.

#This is a continuation/co-piece with the End of the World that I posted yesterday #writeblr #writing #my writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #writing community #spilled ink #short story #fantasy #I like writing about dying gods

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triptychgardener · 1 year

Text

Alright, you wanted it, you asked for it, here we go.

THE FULL GUIDE TO LEPRECHAUN ROMANCE

Created in collaboration with @a-very-stuck-doggirl, with additional assistance from @gendertrickster and @clamitoustemptation

If you want the FULL, EYEBURSTING EXPERIENCE of reading this beautiful, beautiful explainer, you can find the full document here. And furthermore, we will be expanding (and taking liberties with) the canon explanation of Leprechaun romance and the charms system, a brief explainer of which can be found on the wiki here.

And finally, we will not be explaining how Leprechaun reproduction works, only how the cultural systems of romance work. You bunch of perverts.

And with that...

Let us begin.

When broaching the subject of leprechaun romance, our feeble human minds immediately assume the most ingratiating posture of glee imaginable. What whimsy, what mystery, what the fuck! Here, we will do our best to unravel all the different nine charms of LEPRECHAUN ROMANCE, in order to construct a romantic system that ADEQUATELY INCLUDES THE ROMANTIC OPTIONS OF ONE WEIRD CLOWN GIRL. So without further Ado, or with it if she decides to join us…

Let’s get this shit fuckin storted

but furst…(fred durst)

A brief explainer.

A JAPE is another form of courtship, this time taking the form of Sick Prankz. Anything you can use to get an edge, to get a brief Jortle out of them, or simply yourself, counts as a Jape.

A JIG is the type of courtship dance you perform, either when romancing an attractive and silly person, or simply to reaffirm the feelings of your relationship. When in doubt, Jig it out.

A WHIMSY is a feeling, a scene, or something else exemplifying the pure Vibes of the romance. A few examples are given, but a Whimsy is not such a thing to be tied down. After all, the charms are made to be mixed into TROVES, with three being the bare minimum for a proper trove.

CHARM 1: 💗 (Heart)

The heart is the one charm that actually means romantic love in the sense of human romance and matespritship. It is notably pink, while most other romance systems use a saturated red heart.

JIG: A quick and lively dance in close proximity to a partner. Maybe even (scandalous!) some bumpin’ and grindin’. Turning this sockhop into a sockless hop if you know what I’m saying.

JAPE: The classic to end all classics. Bucket on the door. (Cultural specific)

WHIMSY: Skipping along carefree, arm in arm, a feeling of warmth inside.

CHARM 2: 🌙 (Moon)

A symbol associated with dreams, mystery, and the night. A common sign that one is in moons with another is seeing them in your dreams, or them seeing you in their dreams.

JIG: A sneaky, tip-toeing, light jig, almost airy, never quite touching each other. Jesus would approve.

JAPE: Be the monster under the bed, sneaking up on the partner and startling them in a safe but traditionally scary location. (monster in the closet works a-ok if your bed has no underside)

WHIMSY: Sneaking off under the cover of night, doing a merry canter on your prospective lover’s windowsill, whispered jokes under the covers.

CHARM 3: ⭐ (Star)

The orange star, associated with excellence, achievement, perhaps even a far-flung imagination that goes a bit beyond reality. A common sign you are in stars with another is coming up with wildly ambitious schemes that are nearly certainly doomed to fail. But you try anyways.

JIG: Hand in hand bouncing up and down. Legs kicked up behind, butterfly kisses.

JAPE: Pantsing someone whilst onstage giving a big presentation, killing the president with a pie-to-the-face necksnap. Anything wildly important that can be brought down with a pratfall.

WHIMSY: A sporadic and spur of the moment journey, often lasting at least an hour, to an unknown or unvisited location.

CHARM 4: 🍀 (Four-leaf Clover)

The clover is associated with, what else, luck. To be honest, achieving this with someone is nearly impossible to do intentionally. It must be stumbled into on a whim, perhaps literally falling into one’s lap on a chance journey. The clover is a treasured, and often dangerous charm, but those who achieve it are, well, extraordinarily lucky.

Jig: Socks on a smooth polished floor, slip around defying gravity with the sheer will of your connection. If you fall you’ll get back up laughing and slip slide some more.

Jape: Spending all of their savings on scratch-off lotto tickets. You’re either getting laid or getting VERY dumped.

Whimsy: A night at the casino to win it big, throwing your life to the wind on some daredevil stunt, a meet-cute at the top of a colliding rollercoaster.

Charm 5: 🔷 (Diamond)

The blue diamond is closely related to the troll concept of moirallegiance. The diamond is a stable shape and be it red or blue it represents stability, be it of reaching where you want to be, or a strong foundation to build upon.

Jig: A simple, steady square dance, perfectly in sync, with a couple shooshpaps thrown in for good measure.

Jape: The surprise of a breakfast in bed, but the food won't stop coming. Be buried under freshly squeezed orange juice and lovingly jellied toast.

Whimsy: A pale session on a plush quilt, the warmth underneath you as you sit on their lap. Being in the car with an incredibly safe driver.

Charm 6: 𝝮 (Horseshoe)

Horseshoes are associated partially with challenge, a game, and irony. A horseshoe is lucky, but it’s simply a marker of the most challenging and ironic situations. Also horses.

Jig: A lively and sardonic canter with a particularly risky somersault down a grassy hill, or a jagged set of concrete steps.

Jape: Physical non-lasting injury. Bonking someone with a biiiiiiiiig mallet. Big lumps on the head, flattened into an accordion. (WARNING: DO NOT TRY UNLESS SILLY). Performing pranks in ironic proximity to horses.

Whimsy: Chase through hallway with many doors, coming out completely different ones than the ones entered. Sometimes swapping outfits and gaining other members to your procession. A boxing match where both of you have guns taped to your back.

Charm 7: 🎈 (Balloon)

This charm is primarily associated with freedom, knowing that you have a relationship even when apart, that allows you the independence to experiment. Associated with polyamorous, long distance, and open relationships, flight and travel.

Jig: A wide and free-flowing twirl, lifting each other up over and over, then separating till only the tips of your fingers remain.

Jape: Showing up unannounced at your long-distance partner’s doorstep and utterly imposing on them. But they love it all the same.

Whimsy: Making out with your roommates while couchsurfing, a wild kiss in a hot-air balloon, the open road flying by.

Charm 8: 🌈 (Rainbow)

The rainbow is adventure, going beyond boundaries. The journey is the relationship, the relationship is the journey. This charm represents growth and change, be it progression or regression, what matters is to be doing it together.

Jig: Running leaps, a jig in motion, something wild and unexpected. The kind you see in a musical where people are jumping on tables and shit.

Jape: Dying your partner’s hair color while they’re asleep. Genderpranking them leading to self-discovery.

Whimsy: Packing bags together, and making sure that together you have what you need, not one carrying it all.

Charm 9: 🍯 (Pot o’ Gold)

This one’s allllllll about the money. Material goods, gifts, splendor. But it’s not necessarily just about gr33d and gain. It can also be in the little treasures that you hold, your favorite mug, or a timeless autograph from the creators of the Hit Webcomic Outcaste. Wow! So cool.

Jig: Dousing one another in fake or real money, break out the monopoly board we’re getting silly. Confetti works just as well, what needs to be is something falling down around you.

Jape: Buying your partner gag gifts: I’m talking fake snakes stored in cans of peanuts, or actual snakes stored in their plate of spaghetti. Giving them a box that hurls a pie in their face.

Whimsy: Digging for buried treasure, looking for something lost. The chaos in the search is all the more fun.

Leprechaun Romance Research is hard. It's hard, and now, whether you wanted to or not, you understand. But the romantic sciences are not a simple, cut-and-dry thing. We encourage you to seek out your own answers, delve deep into the knowledge stored in the deeper dreambubbles, and maybe, someday, feel the touch of plush, green felt against your very own lips.

#homestuck #meta #fucked if i know how to tag this

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