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#flawless music box ballerina
i-spaced-sorry · 1 year
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So someone had requested awhile ago, a Connor Rhodes x reader, where the reader was an ice skater and got hurt. I had it sitting in my ask box forever, but I decided to get to it today, because it’s December 1st, it’s freezing outside and I actually had an idea for it. But I accidentally wrote it for Ethan Choi instead of Connor Rhodes. And I accidentally deleted the ask request. But I actually think the story works with Ethan being the character and I haven’t written much or any with Ethan, so I decided to still post it. 
Triple Axles and Lies Ethan Choi x Little Sister! Reader Ice skating has been your life. You joked with your brother that you learned how to skate before you learned how to walk. So when the annual skating rink in Millennium Park opened, to say you were excited would be an understatement! 
You all but dragged your brother with you. 
“Ethan, please! Just for an hour and then we can go Christmas shopping and whatever else you want,” you pleaded, not caring that you sounded like a whiny 4yr old rather than the annoying 10 year old you actually were. 
Shaking his head, your brother sighed, “Y/N! We have a schedule to stick to today, we can’t have time to dilly dally just so you can skate! Besides, don't you have a showcase or something tomorrow? I thought you weren’t supposed to be resting today.” 
You knew Ethan was right, your coach had told you that you shouldn’t skate the day before a showcase, but didn’t know when you would be in the downtown area again to be able to skate!
“Fine. But can I take the bus home? I’m actually not in the mood to go shopping today”, you caved. 
Ethan gave the go ahead and you went home. 
The next morning, you were in the locker room about to get ready to go on the ice for your number, but while putting on your skates noticed blisters all along the heels of your feet. ‘I’ll just ask Eth after the showcase’ you thought to yourself while lacing up. 
As you emerged on the ice, you began your routine, complete with flawless jumps, beautiful ballerina spins, and even a few small axles. You were feeling really confident and were lost in the music, when you decided to attempt the triple axle. You had only gotten it once in practice and were told by your coach to not attempt it today, but you decided to anyway. 
You skated to the center of the rink, began to jump and spun. Once. Twice. And before you saw it happening, you were crashing onto the ice in a heap. The last thing you saw before losing consciousness was the ice hitting against the side of your face.
To Ethan, watching his sister attempt something, he had basic knowledge of knowing she shouldn’t have been attempting was exhilarating. Until he watched her smack against the ice and not make any attempts to get up. He himself was up in an instant, running down the bleachers easily switching into doctor mode!
“How is she? I’m a doctor” he stated when he reached the coach and the team’s doctor, who were both at his sister's side.
The team doctor looked up at the worried brother and shook his head, “she hasn’t regained consciousness, you should take her to Med” and with that confirmation, Ethan swept up his little sister in his arms and ran for his car. 
The first thing you noticed when you entered the land of the living was how bright the room was. 
You found yourself blinking multiple times just to adjust to the brightness. Thankfully, someone must have noticed because by blink 5, the lights were dimmer and it was easier to keep your eyes open. 
“Hey kiddo” you heard your brother whisper. 
You followed his voice, to see him sitting in the chair beside you. 
“What happened?” You ask, trying to remember the events leading up to being at Med. 
Ethan sighed, “You did it again. Attempted something you weren’t supposed to.”
You looked down at the blanket covering you and began playing with it, “I’m sorry”
Shuffling to sit next to you, Ethan kissed the top of your head and asked, “What made you think you could attempt the triple axle? Your coach said you had only landed it once during practice last week”
You burrowed more into the side of your big brother and sighed, “I practiced it last night at Millenium Park and had landed it like 4 times! I really thought I could do it”
Ethan side hugged the stuffing out of you and spoke, “I’m mad that you went to skate last night when not only I but, your coaches said not to. But we will talk about that later. For now, I’m just glad your okay and your not allowed to scare me like that again”
You just smiled and nodded.
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awlumii · 1 year
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A couple of food-morsels for thought regarding snow prince!Albedo (you don’t have to pay any attention to them if you don’t like them, of course):
There’s one locked room in the castle, at the top of the tallest tower. You can’t see inside it, can’t get inside it. Sometimes, you hear the chiming of a music box floating down the corridor from behind the closed door. (The door is small: about half the size of the other doors in the castle.) Sometimes you catch sight of Albedo entering, and then leaving a while later, closing the door carefully behind him as he does.
What’s actually in the room is a flawless model of his little sister’s old room. Every piece of furniture, every lamp, every thread of every carpet is mimicked to perfection— but none of it is real, of course. Not really. They’re just replicas made of ice and butterflies; her original belongings were long worn away. However, there is one thing here which isn’t woven from snow and magic: a small music box, with a dancing ballerina spinning around inside, playing a quiet melody. (You realise that you’ve heard Albedo playing this very melody himself.) He comes in every day to wind it up again, because he can’t bear the thought of it falling silent.
And maybe, in one hall or palace courtyard, there are ice statues. Once again, they’re flawless, and look exactly like people, frozen in time. The only way you can tell they’re statues is the transparent blue-white of their bodies, and the way no one’s breath but yours steams in the air as you pass by. Perhaps these are replicas of the citizens of his old kingdom, like a split second of memory preserved in time?
(So, basically, in the whole of the palace, there only exist three ‘real’ objects: the music box, the sister’s scarf, and Albedo’s violin/cello.)
And finally… if Albedo was made of ice in this au rather than chalk, does that mean that when he falls in love and his heart begins to thaw, he can melt…?
(As I said, you don’t need to pay attention to any of these if you don’t think they’d fit with the au, but they’re just a couple of brainrots I wanted to share.)
-🎻 anon
y'know, i debated over and over what explains albedo's longevity since the kingdom he once ruled over was decimated ages ago, but i really really REALLY like that last part about him being made of ice instead. adds an angst kick that i really like ☝🏽
i try to maintain as much of dragonspine's original lore as i can, so the whole corruption via black dragon energy or whatever sorta holds up, but i suppose him being exposed to as much of it as he was changed his constitution entirely, and... maybe i'm just thinking much too hard, actually.
all that to say, i really love that idea about him being made of ice.
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bookish-loner · 1 year
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“Powerless” by Elsie Silver
5⭐️/5⭐️
3🌶/5🌶
“Like we’re two opposite ends of a magnet, there’s no resisting the pull. There are forces beyond us at work now, and we’re at their mercy. Maybe it’s science. Maybe it’s fate.”
Sloane Winthrop’s wedding day has arrived, but something doesn’t feel right. After receiving information about her fiance’s less-than-faithful behavior right before walking down the aisle, she decides to leave him at the altar. Her best friend and childhood crush, Jasper Gervais helps her escape to their refuge: Wishing Well Ranch. Once the two are alone, they’re forced to face the feelings they’ve denied for years. What’s more, devastating news about Sloane’s cousin, Beau, rocks their fragile happiness. Wanting to support their loved ones, Sloane and Jasper volunteer to take a roadtrip to Gold Rush Ranch and help Violet. Could time alone be the perfect solution to their problems? Or will it only accelerate the tough conversations they’ve been putting off?
-I was really hyped for “Powerless”, and this book absolutely delivers. Somehow Elsie managed to top “Heartless”, and Jasper is my new favorite MMC. This book is full of great tropes: runaway bride, there’s only one room at the hotel, childhood friends to lovers. But more than that, Sloane and Jasper are really interesting characters. I enjoyed every second of this book and their love story.
-I haven’t read very many friends to lovers romances, but I think it’s a trope I need to explore further. Elsie did an excellent job establishing a background for Sloane and Jasper that was easy to buy into. Jasper is a character readers are somewhat familiar with, he makes appearances in “Flawless” and “Heartless”. However, Sloane’s first appearance is a brief scene in “Heartless”. Jasper and Sloane are best friends, but readers aren’t privy to their relationship until “Powerless”.
-Jasper’s backstory is in many ways a mirror opposite to Sloane’s. Jasper comes from a low income family, and his parents abandoned him after a horrifying accident involving his sister. Sloane’s father is a wealthy businessman, allowing her to grow up in a protective bubble. Yet, despite Sloane and Jasper’s differences, they begin to confide in each other and build a strong friendship. Outside of their romance, I enjoyed their friendship, and learning more about how they’ve constantly supported each other for nearly two decades.
-Sloane’s character arc is one that I think will resonate with many readers, it certainly did for me. I loved the comparison between Sloane being a people pleaser, and a ballerina in a music box. You open the box when you want, wind it up, and the ballerina pops out dancing and smiling. It’s not much different for Sloane. All of her life she was told what to do, including who to marry. The breaking point for her is simultaneously sad and satisfying. We can see how deeply she cares for her parents and their approval, but along the way she lost sight of her personal identity and happiness.
-The spice wasn’t what I was expecting, but I mean that in a good way. Readers will get to enjoy a level of intimacy not seen before in Elsie’s novels. By the end of the book Jasper’s kinks make a lot of sense, and Sloane’s ability to accept them proves how compatible they are.
-I loved reading about all the previous couples, including the ones from the Gold Rush Ranch series; it felt like checking in with an old friend. While these books do contain stories about singular relationships, I think the Chestnut Springs series will be more enjoyable if they are read in order.
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Viktoria Tereshkina in Giselle.
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wh6res · 3 years
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Fiction Tittle : Blue night
blue night | winwin
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%☆#!* perfection is what we should strive for.
the moonlight was periwinkle. it’s this soft hue of white and blue mixed together to create this divine glow. it was stunning, almost angelic. but when your limbs are threatening to collapse under your weight and the fatigue is wearing your whole body down, the very last thing you can think of was the colors of the night. 
a whip cracks in the air and tears your skin. good thing you’ve long been trained to never falter, to never fall unceremoniously to the floor no matter the circumstance. in which, being whipped had been included. 
“did i tell you to stop dancing, my calla lily?”
periwinkle is just another shade of blue. so was teal, cerulean, sapphire, lapis, or azure and for the untrained eye, it was all just one color – blue. 
and blue is what you had felt when your ballet instructor stormed up to you, the chill breeze bleeding through the open windows of the empty theatre catching on his long coat, slightly billowing with every step he takes. you know better than to flinch when winwin grabs your face with a gloved hand, the soft fabric of velvet against your skin not enough to cushion the harshness of his grip when he starts digging his nails on your cheek. 
“perfection is what we strive for, am i not right?” he mutters, soft tufts of the freezing air creating clouds before his lips. 
for a split moment, you wanted to tuck yourself under his chin, the warmth he exudes is comforting even if the man himself was anything but. he was decked in the most expensive of tailored suits – fit for a king, fit for a premier danseur of his status – while you only had a sorry excuse of torn up ballet tights to shield yourself from the freezing temperature.
as a consequence of spacing out, he backhands you. the harsh crack of skin against skin resonating deep within the empty theatre as it ricocheted off its old archaic walls. 
funny how he calls you his calla lily when he treats you like a small porcelain ballerina trapped inside a music box, ordered to dance, and dance, and dance until the onlookers are satisfied. 
only there was one person watching you and he was never satisfied. 
“the question, calla lily. answer my question!”
there’s a deeply disturbing joy restrained in his eyes when he stares at the lone tear that escapes your eyes. he knew how you hated other people to see you cry. too bad for you, sicheng will wear and tear you down until he sees those pretty tears streaming down your face – it was a symbol of power on his part. a symbol of having the upper hand. 
if you couldn't do it, if you were too much of a cry baby to handle the dong sicheng’s methods of perfecting the intricate art of ballet, then you were fucking more than free to go. he has other better things to do than train you. 
and yet you never left. fucking sadist.
he smiles and your heart falls. you don’t like it when he smiles, it was never a good sign. not when it didn’t even reach his eyes, not when there’s an obvious ill-intent hidden underneath those flawless pearly whites. 
“yes,” your voice breaks. “perfection is absolute. if i’m not perfect, i’ve failed you, sir.”
is he guilty that his slacks would tent every time he hears you address him as such? no, he wasn’t. in fact he wholly welcomed it. 
one day. one day, he’ll have you, he’ll take you in the most creative of ways that it would simply appear like you two were dancing. only there’s no music but your needy whimpers and winwin’s heavy grunts. no intricate and heavy costume but the goosebumps and heat covering your undressed form. 
winwin was supposed to be just another ballet instructor helping you out to further develop your craft, like all the other instructors you had in the past. but alas, he proved time and time again how different he is. 
“i love you, my calla lily. you know i only want what’s best for you, right?”
“yes, sir.”
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shozaii · 4 years
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hiii! your writing’s really cute n wholesome 🥺🤍 can i request shouto with an s/o who’s a ballerina and she uses that to her advantage when she fights? thank u
(a/n): thank you so so much anon! y’all are too sweet my heart🥺💕 this request made me squeal and i hope you like it!🥰
i have written this with all my research of ballet hehe
masterlist.
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beauty and grace.
todoroki x reader
warnings : none! 
(credits to the owners of these pictures btw :) )
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you have been taking ballet lessons ever since you were a kid. as time flew and you have manifested your quirk,, it was a new goal.
becoming not only the best ballet dancer - but also using those moves during your time in the hero course. a hero, one of a kind! 
the best part was that your quirk complimented your moves. during the entrance exams, you had almost everyone giving you second looks. wow, what a beautiful sight, they thought.
your hero costume was a little inspired by a tutu, as well. not exactly like one, but the idea was there. your favorite color, the perfect footwear to lessen the burden/injury of your legs.
beautiful, yet deadly. the robots being defeated in an instant the moment your legs did a swift kick into the air, knocking your obstacles to the ground. a pirouette shortly after, easily balancing yourself on the track.
it took a while for a dual colored hair boy to notice you. well - he has for a long time. but something about you made him flutter.
he didn’t understand what it was, but he was sure it was new.
there in the common room, the whole class have gathered around, watching you perform your favorite piece of music. you earned ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as you showed them some moves you have learned for over 10 years or more.
he watched from afar, amazed by the talent you had possessed. and so, when he entered his room, he grabbed hold of a little notebook.
he titled it, ‘beauty and grace’. 
it wasn’t just a notebook of your moves. it was also a notebook about you. just you. his feelings. his sensations and tingles. his goosebumps when he sees you defeat anything coming your way.
‘imagine the aura of the ballerina, on the battlefield with a capability so lovely,’ he wrote.
‘though it was beauty and grace, she spices it up with a fast pace,’ he added, recollecting the memory of your fighting styles.
your friendship with shoto was a treasure. it happened as if it were a dream. you had long talks, loads of questions between each other, studying together, walking back to the dorms when you had the opportunity (and when the girls ‘accidentally’ push you to him)
“how long have you been taking lessons?” he asked you one fine day. to which you replied, “ever since i was four!”
begins researching about ballet lessons on youtube or any website with the best information🥺he wants to stay updated. he begins to watch your performances with his classmates. sometimes you perform them when you’re training. he asks your permission sometimes, afraid that he might disturb you (best boy i swear) and while he trains, his heart swoons in joy.
“what about the ones with no ribbons?.”
“ah! these flats are for training.”
his mother listens to the stories he tells about you and smiles. she too, would love to see you someday❤️
i would say he has this huge liking for ballet shoes. it looks so,, pleasing. the way you put them on, tying the ribbons effortlessly with your hands. well, the whole concept of ballet makes him feel relaxed. the music, moves.
very soon, he knew the feelings were catching up to him. it was all in a blink of an eye. i’ve mentioned this before, but he tends to be straightforward. and so he poured out his feelings to you in an instant.
what a blissful feeling. you never expected shoto todoroki, the most handsome boy in your class; to like you. but you had to admit, he looks at you like nobody do. 
it was something that nobody else had.
the notebook of his was constantly filled with words about you. he gave it to you for you to read it 😭💕💕maybe it was around the time when you were both on a date. he had the courage to finally show you that the poetic side of his was to be shown to you; the one he loved most.
you couldn’t help but blush at every compliment he poured out into the book. it was full of emotion, compassion and love. “this is beautiful, shoto.”
“i didn’t want to forget it,” he smiled. “i guess i wouldn’t anymore.”
the love you had for each other was definitely something else. 
he even notices that the flats - the one you wear during training/classes and also the ones you wear for ballet performances; slowly beginning to wear off. and then he finally knew exactly what you would like as a gift.
it was 12 a.m., and everyone wished you the happiest birthday. gifts, party streamers, balloons were everywhere in the common room! he seized the night, walking towards you after taking deep breaths.
shoto stood in front of you. placing a kiss on your forehead.(cue your friends sneakily taking pictures) “this is my few months of enhanced research based on your likes and dislikes. i hope you like it. happy birthday, love.”
as you open the beautifully wrapped box, you let out a delighted squeal. it was new flats, all of them being your favorite colors. as you dug deeper, you saw a dress. custom made, with the sequins and decorations. moreover, it reminded you of the words from his book; all about you.🥰
you were right. the scarlet letter that came with the gift said it all. with the new set of words he has written down for you.
your tears were streaming down your cheeks within seconds. “shoto!” you said as he brought you into his arms. “thank you! i...this is beautiful! i have so much to say yet it isn’t processing well. i love you so much,” you looked up at him.
“oh, love. so many years in my life and you are the definition of flawless. keep doing what you do best. i’ll be watching.”
(a/n): here you go anon! i wrote based on my knowledge of ballet, and i apologize terribly for how long it took :( this has been my favorite piece of writing so far!
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kingdcm · 3 years
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‧  ˖  ❛   ☾   𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄:  𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖜
Last night, 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐀 took stage for her debut live performance on The Tonight Show starring Dave Chappelle. A theatrical, dance driven performance of her new single Sweet But Psycho packed with concept and vocals; critics are raving with praise of the performance. 
CHOREOGRAPHY: Brian Esperson
STYLING: Kelsey Ashley 
STAGE CONCEPT: Misa Misa/Super Fuchsia
HAIR: Alonzo Arnold
MAKEUP: Raoul Alejandre
                                     𝐓𝐀𝐏 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇
The camera pans towards the stage that resembles the inside of a ballerina box, the walls LED screens as well as stage flooring being a matte pink texture. The spotlight is on Misa who is on top of a higher platform like an actual ballerina in a box and dressed as what she’s been known for before becoming a pop star: a ballerina. Misa has blonde hair, drawn into a formal updo as she does an intricate ballet routine to the piano version of My Way being played by a pianist off stage. After 45 seconds, a figure can be seen walking up to her clad in an outfit that is much darker than what Misa is wearing. Just as the piano version of the song is about to play the chorus, the figure pushes Misa causing her to fall backwards and off-of camera. As she falls, Misa begins to glitch out indicating that the ballet performance was simply a holographic version of Misa. The beginning scream of Sweet But Pyscho can be heard as she falls. The darkly dressed figured turns around and reveals themselves to be Misa Misa: the popstar. The lighting of the stage grows darker as the studio instrumental begins to play and Misa begins to sing the beginning chorus. In character, Misa appears both tempting and evil as she works the camera:
“            oh, she's sweet but a psycho a little bit psycho a night she's screamin'     i'm-ma-ma-ma out my mind. oh, she's hot but a psycho so left but she's right though                          at night she's screamin', i'm-ma-ma-ma out my mind.                  ”                   
The LED screens slowly fade into padded walls and floors that pulse to the beat of the song. A group of seven background dancers dressed in similar steam punk costumes join Misa on different levels of the stage’s platform which resembles a ballerina box with mini staircases on the side. The dancers along with Misa do full pop choreo to the first verse of the song:
“           she'll make you curse, but she a blessing. she'll rip your shirt within a second             you'll be coming back, back for seconds. with your plate, you just can't help it.    ”  
As the pre-chorus come in, holographic Misa frantically appears in front of Misa Misa dramatically doing ballet choreography in a way that’s telling Misa Misa and her dancers to stop the pop choreo. ( no. no ) but Misa Misa continues the pop choreo much to holographic Misa’s despair. Misa Misa and holagraphic Misa go back and forth to the pre-chorus of the song ballet style and pop style. Eventually, Misa Misa grows tired of the back and forth and blows “magic dust” (glitter) in holographic Misa’s face causing her to glitch out once more and disappear ( ‘cause she’s messin’ with you head ) leaving Misa Misa and her gang of dancers to continue into the chorus. 
“                 no, no you'll play along let her lead you on you'll be sayin', no, no.                      then saying, yes, yes, yes, cause she messin' with your head.         ”
Misa does full choreo with her dancers all in formation in the middle of the stage, keeping up the theatrical theme of the song by holding her head in her hands and twitchily doing the dance moves during the ( i'm-ma-ma-ma out my mind ) parts. The dancing is sharp, sexual and dark.
“            oh, she's sweet but a psycho a little bit psycho a night she's screamin'    i'm-ma-ma-ma out my mind. oh, she's hot but a psycho so left but she's right though                         at night she's screamin', i'm-ma-ma-ma out my mind.                  ”                
For the second chorus, Misa grabs hold of the camera so that her face up close to it, working the camera as she continues singing walking through the stage and appearing paranoid and hysteric, still in character. At the end of the chorus she smacks the camera away appearing angered. ( i’m-ma-ma-ma out my mind )
“              grab a cocked gun. kinda crazy she's poison but tasty yeah, people say,                run, don't walk away. 'cause she's sweet but a psycho a little bit psycho                        at night she's screamin', i'm-ma-ma-ma out my mind.                   ”               
Returning to their positions on the platform that represents the ballerina box, Misa Misa and her dancers continue choreography. The LED screen shows holographic Misa performing the second verse in a begging and pleading manner, still doing ballet choreo while Misa Misa and her dancers are also seen in the back doing the pop choreo that seems to be what holographic Misa is trying to stop. 
“       see, someone said, don't drink her potions she'll kiss your neck with no emotions.         when she's mean, you know you love it. she tastes so sweet. don't sugarcoat it.       "
An LED spotlight causes Misa Misa to appear as if she was slowly turning back into the ballerina form that resembled holographic Misa; her outfit starting to appear more white and covered up. Noticing this, Misa Misa appears rebellious and frantic while the other dancers tried to pull her out of the light. ( no, no )  Doing additional pop choreo to cause the light to fade. Misa does a vocal run before the chorus. ( messin’ with your head )
“                 no, no you'll play along let her lead you on you'll be sayin', no, no.                     then saying, yes, yes, yes, cause she messin' with your head.         ”
Misa resumes the full chorus-choreo with her dancers in the middle of the stage, this time the LED spotlights shining on the entire crew causing them to appear as if they’re all changing into prim ballet dancers and not rebellious pop dancers. They all appear to be going crazy trying to stop it, showing this emotion through face and choreography. 
“            oh, she's sweet but a psycho a little bit psycho a night she's screamin'   i'm-ma-ma-ma out my mind. oh, she's hot but a psycho so left but she's right though                        at night she's screamin', i'm-ma-ma-ma out my mind.                  ”           
As Misa Misa and her dance crew go mad trying to stop the light from making them what they don’t want to be, holographic Misa appears once again at her original position, on top of the music box. It can’t be determined if she’s happy or distraught by her face but she dramatically does ballet choreo  to the second chorus of the song. Mid-stage, Misa Misa continue the planned second chorus choreography, moving to different positions of the stage to get out of the light. Near-defeated, Misa Misa and co. hold their heads death-dropping to the floor for the bridge breakdown. 
 “              grab a cocked gun. kinda crazy she's poison but tasty yeah, people say,             run, don't walk away. 'cause she's sweet but a psycho a little bit psycho                      at night she's screamin', i'm-ma-ma-ma out my mind.                   ”         
As the beat breaksdown, the dancer return to stage holding mirrors, assembling around Misa Misa so that she’s dancing in front of her reflections. They do choreo that keeps her huddled around in the mirror, which is really an LED screen showing her reflection as holographic Misa trying to get her to be a ballerina again. Misa Misa and holographic Misa both do choreography, fighting one another. Misa hits the background whistle notes at the end of the bridge ( don’t love the pain ) powerfully breaking free from the mirrors and causing holographic Misa to completely glitch out. 
“    you're just like me, you're out your mind. i know it's strange. we're both the crazy kind        you're tellin' me that i'm insane. boy, don't pretend that you don't love the pain.    ”     
   Misa Misa and her dancers who are now free from the “light” do energetic and flawless choreography to the chorus one more, in a horizontal dance formation. Misa hits the vocal run at the end of the chorus as the crew moved backwards getting into their respective positions on the platforms. ( i’m-ma-ma-ma out my mind )
“            oh, she's sweet but a psycho a little bit psycho a night she's screamin'  i'm-ma-ma-ma out my mind. oh, she's hot but a psycho so left but she's right though                       at night she's screamin', i'm-ma-ma-ma out my mind.                  ”          
Misa Misa continues the choreography, hitting extra runs at the respective parts ( run don’t walk away ) / ( oh, a little bit psycho ) holographic Misa can be seen in the walls of the stage behind them trapped inside. As they song ends, Misa Misa puts herself in the same first positions that began the performance; appearing to be a darker version of the ballerina in the box. Misa and her dancers stand statue still, as they song stops.
“              grab a cocked gun. kinda crazy she's poison but tasty yeah, people say,            run, don't walk away. 'cause she's sweet but a psycho a little bit psycho                     at night she's screamin', i'm-ma-ma-ma out my mind.                   ”        
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reversedreamtale · 4 years
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Nightmare belongs to @jokublog
Shatter Me by Lindsey Stirling Ft. Elizabeth ‘Lzzy’ Hale from Halestorm
i got the idea for this from a song called “Shatter Me” about a ballerina who lived in a music box. she was elegant and delicate. “she danced within the confines of her sphere of glass, protected, unchanging, enslaved. The song of the music box plays endlessly, telling her perfection was essential to her happiness.she kept on her toes, keep flawless form, and spin gracefully. the whispering melodies lulled her to believe that only within its protection would she maintain control. the world outside her globe will never see her worth. 
“but as she looked out the glass day after day, she saw the world beyond the globe that stirred within her memories of a happier time. she realized the hypnotic  melody of the music box had deceived her and that perfection had become a cruel master. she longed  for someone to shatter the globe that held her captive. but no one could see her aching heart, beneath the flawless porcelain, the serene expression and delicate pirouettes.
“summoning all her courage, she raised her violin and began to play against the melody that held her prisoner. forgotten emotions sprang from her heart, and she leapt from position where she had twirled for so long.And as she did, her porcelain exterior began to crack, revealing a softer skin beneath, and suddenly she knew. SHe knew that within herself was the power to escape the prison. It ... not she ... would break.
Suddenly, joy and light burst forth from deep within, shattering not only her porcelain shell, but also the glass which held her bound. 
At last she was free. A new world lay before her- a world in which she could live,  love, follow her dreams- and shatter the barriers of the future.”
My idea of this was that goopmare has total control of nighty, but eventually nighty ‘plays against’ the flow. he begins to refuse goopmare control. he fights back and opens his world back up! its just an idea ive been playing with for a while.
-ThatDorkyDork
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bloodloreiscanon · 4 years
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Ballerinas Can Breakdance Too
A Lifetane Story
Pairing: Octane/Lifeline
Notes: This a total AU. Lifeline is a ballerina who moonlights as a breakdancer. Octane is a bored rich boy who falls for the pretty ballerina. Little did he know it was his childhood friend.
Read on: Ao3!
-
Octavio couldn’t believe that he was roped into seeing a ballet recital. Sure there were worse things he could be stuck doing, like taxes or being yelled at by his parents, but this was definitely in the top twenty most boring things he could do with his time. All dressed up in a suit and for what? To sit and watch some people prance around in tutus and spandex? It felt like such a waste of time, and he couldn’t wait to just go out and have some real fun.
As he followed his parents to his seat, he couldn’t help but notice all the other socialites in the massive room. Everyone seemed to be so prim and proper that it honestly started to make the young man uncomfortable. He felt if he messed up, all eyes would be on him and he’d be shunned in his entire town. Don’t get Octavio wrong, he loves attention, but he could do without the disapproving glances.
He sat there for what seemed like hours before the lights finally dimmed and the stage lit up. To be honest the only reason he knew the dance was beginning was that his mother had told him to put his phone down and be more respectful of the dancers. Hazel eyes drifted across the stage as both men and women danced. Octavio couldn’t see why people found these events interesting, to him it was quite boring.
The performance continued and the young billionaire could feel himself nodding off to sleep. One tired glance at his parents and Octavio made his decision.Octavio couldn’t believe that he was roped into seeing a ballet recital. Sure there were worse things he could be stuck doing, like taxes or being yelled at by his parents, but this was definitely in the top twenty most boring things he could do with his time. All dressed up in a suit and for what? To sit and watch some people prance around in tutus and spandex? It felt like such a waste of time, and he couldn’t wait to just go out and have some real fun.
As he followed his parents to his seat, he couldn’t help but notice all the other socialites in the massive room. Everyone seemed to be so prim and proper that it honestly started to make the young man uncomfortable. He felt if he messed up, all eyes would be on him and he’d be shunned in his entire town. Don’t get Octavio wrong, he loves attention, but he could do without the disapproving glances and disgusted glances.
He sat there for what seemed like hours before the lights finally dimmed and the stage lit up. To be honest the only reason he knew the dance was beginning was that his mother had told him to put his phone down and be more respectful of the dancers. Hazel eyes drifted across the stage as both men and women danced. Octavio couldn’t see why people found these events interesting, to him it was quite boring.
The performance continued and the young billionaire could feel himself nodding off to sleep. One tired glance at his parents and Octavio made his decision. ‘What’s a little sleep? I bet that they won’t even notice.’
Octavio was startled awake by his mother harshly whispering his name in his ear after his little nap. He didn’t know how long he was out, but all he knew was his mother wasn’t pleased. She gave him a look that told him he was going to be in trouble if he kept this up and gestured to the stage.
“Octavio Silva! I swear you had better stay awake for this performance or so help me you’ll be grounded for the next month. We have an appearance to keep up!”
Her words only reminded him that he had to be a poster child for manners and propriety and he hated it. If there was one thing he wanted to be, it would be free. Alas, he wasn’t free from the grasp of his family just yet. Rolling his eyes, he looked back at the stage.
However, this time there was something that changed. There was a new backdrop and a few new dancers on the stage and one, in particular, caught his eye. She was one of the background ballerinas, but she was stunning. Her dancing was flawless and she looked like she put her entire heart and soul into this routine.
Her appearance had him leaning on the edge of his seat and paying much more attention to the ballet. His mother seemed pleased and went back to watching, completely missing the fact that he wasn’t paying attention to the others. Maybe sitting in this seat for three hours wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Octavio watched the entire ballet, trying to keep track of the pink-haired beauty with only some minor difficulties. Soon enough, everyone began to clap and all the dancers took their bows. The performance was over, and Octavio found himself wishing it wasn’t. He wanted to find out who the dancer was, but his parents had other ideas. They hurried him out of the building and were well on their way back home.
The next day he was free to do as he pleased, so what did the young man do? He went back to the performance hall to see the same ballet again, in hopes of seeing the young woman again. She was there and he paid rapt attention to her. And the next day he did the same yet again. He went to the performance to see the ballerina perform.
This time Octavio was smart and bought the backstage pass. All attendees with the pass were allowed in the back after the performance, and Octavio immediately sought the pink-haired dancer out. She was laughing amongst her friends and only turned around when one pointed at Octavio.
He can safely say he was not prepared for who turned to look at him. It was his old elementary school friend, Ajay Che. He hadn’t seen her in years, and can he say that time was nice to her. His jaw physically dropped before he shook his head and bounced on his toes.
   “Hola señorita, has anyone ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”
Ajay rolled her eyes at her friend’s antics and placed a hand on her hip. Man how he missed her. It was a shame her parents decided to move away just before high school started. There was no warning, just one day she was gone. It stung, but now she was back and that’s all he could have wished for.
   “Do ya start every conversation with a girl like dat ‘Tavi or am I jus’ special?”
A grin crept onto his face and he placed a hand on his chest. He faked a hurt look before poking her in the shoulder.
   “I’m hurt chica, you know I was saving that one just for you.”
   “Mhm, I’ll believe dat when pigs fly.”
   “You wound me, Ajay.”
She chuckled and gently pushed his shoulder. They chatted a little longer, stopping here and there for other attendees to ask her questions before the scariest woman Octavio had ever seen approached them. She was easily six feet tall and all muscle, not to mention in a suit with sunglasses on. The typical bodyguard look.
   “Is this man giving you trouble Ajay?”
   “No ‘Nita, dis jus’ my old friend. We were catchin up, dat’s all”
   “All right, no funny business.”
Anita’s cold stare pierced Octavio to the core and he nodded. There were no words to be said as she walked away. He could swear he saw her laughing as she walked away, but he wasn’t certain. Ajay yawned and glanced at her phone. Octavio did the same, only feeling a little disappointed when he realized it was time to go.
They hugged once more before exchanging numbers and saying their goodbyes. The rest of the way home, Octavio was giddy. Ajay was back, but that’s when it finally hit him. His age-old crush on Ajay came back, and this time it was ten-fold. Octavio isn’t afraid to admit that he liked Ajay back in school. She was a sweet girl and his only real friend. But now that they’re older and he’s afraid. Afraid of what, he couldn’t tell you, but it’s there.
All night they texted, and it brought a smile to his face every time he got a new notification from her. It made his heart race and he tried to calm it down. He read over every text twice before he sent them and worried when she didn’t respond. It felt like he was back in fourth grade again and he didn’t know what to do.
Ajay’s last text said she was going to sleep, and even though Octavio said he was as well, he knew damn well it was a lie. The night was still young and there were many things to be done. He crept over to his closet and dug through the back, pulling out a box filled with items that his mother would toss out if she knew they even ‘disgraced’ her house.
He put the bandana on the floor before pulling out his favorite crop top and cargo capris. He stared at the bottle of hair dye in the box before tossing it on the pile as well and stepping into his bathroom. Was he about to cut and dye his hair? Yes. Would his parents kill him for this? Oh definitely, but he was 19 and he could do whatever he damn well pleased.
It took a few moments of hopping around to ease his nerves and get to work. After he was done, he wound up sporting a decent looking faux hawk with lime green tips. It was oddly freeing, and he quickly changed into his outfit before sneaking out of his window.
The alleys were familiar as he made his way to a building affectionately called The Hideout. The music inside was loud enough that he could hear it outside before he made his way in. People were having the time of their lives, dancing with each other and watching others dance.
He pushed his way to where he knew The Ring would be. The Ring was just a roped off area in a corner where people can go in one by one and dance and sort of have a battle with each other. Usually, it consisted of breakdancing, but there were a few occasions people would shake it up and do something else.
The person in the middle was doing rather well, and when they stepped out, Octavio made his way into the circle. People cheered as he took center stage. Down here he was rather well known as Octane, the self-proclaimed king of the ring.
As he danced, he was blissfully unaware of the honey brown eyes watching him from the rope. Sweat dripped from his forehead when he was done, and man did he love the rush of adrenaline all the people watching gave him. People clapped, and someone stepped into the ring to challenge him.
She had a skull tank top on and checkered pants, usually he’d cringe at such a choice but she could pull it off. The mask she wore hid her identity from him, but he stepped back and let her go. He was fairly certain he’d win this battle, but once she started he knew he was screwed.
The stranger was a lot more flexible than he was and able to do the moves he did with a much better grace. People ‘ooh’ed and ‘ahh’ed at her dance and even Octavio couldn’t help but get pumped from her performance as well. He cheered her on and when she was done, the pseudo-announcer pulled them both into the center and grabbed both of their arms.
   “Make some noise if you think Octane won this one!”
People cheered and clapped and the announcer grinned.
   “Alright, got a good amount there, now let’s hear it for Lifeline!”
The small crowd went wild and it was clear who the winner was. Octavio bowed dramatically and high-fived Lifeline. She must have made a name for herself here the few weeks he was gone from here. As he was stepping out of the ring, she grabbed his wrist. Puzzled, he looked back at the woman. All she did was wink and wave before walking off into the crowd. What she said to him though bounced around before it hit him.
   “Better luck next time Tavi.”
That was Ajay. 
Of course, it was Ajay.
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caffeineivore · 5 years
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Fic!
For @smokingbomber. AU. A scene featuring Kunzite, Mamoru and Usagi, in which Kunzite and Mamoru are best friends and Kunzite and Usagi are siblings. For a fic not yet published. This is semi-unedited drivel and snark. Sorry not sorry.
**
The commencement ceremony for his sister’s class at the Greenwich Academy features raindrops on roses and girls in white dresses (without blue satin sashes) and a Pulitzer-winning journalist as the commencement speaker, and of course, their whole family was there for Una’s big day. Kent’s mother, Isabelle, had also attended the school in her own teenage years, and had been sloppy with sentimentality all morning at the thought of her only daughter following in her footsteps. His dad, of course, was a bit more prosaic, though he did approve of this year’s choice of commencement speaker as opposed to last year’s staid and rather boring senator.
Una isn’t Valedictorian-- that particular honour falls to her good friend Molly O’Shea, the heiress of a chain of jewelry stores. Molly’s family is a bit new-money, and her mother is undeniably a little crass by their standards, but she’s a sweet girl, undoubtedly with a bright future ahead of her, and certainly, Una could associate with worse people.
The graduating class of an elite, private all-girl’s school is typically less than 100 students, and this year’s is no exception. Kent had heard tell of the local public school holding their ceremony at an actual sporting stadium due to the plethora of students, family, friends and staff involved, and it’s almost comical. Who would even be able to get a good picture of their kid’s face as he or she got their diploma from some spot in the stands fifty feet up? It would make sense for a college graduation, of course, but seems to lack the sort of sentimentality and ceremony that kids always enjoyed.
“Hey.”
The voice is familiar, and while his best friend’s presence isn’t a complete shock-- Matt has been promoted to almost-an-honourary-Crawford-Tate since the events of a year ago, it does strike Kent as a bit odd that his friend would be standing there in full-on black tie and carrying a bouquet of red roses like it’s a wedding or something.
“Hi there, Miss America. Lose your tiara or something?” Kent jostles his friend’s arm good-naturedly, but rather to his surprise, Matt doesn’t say anything smart-alecky back in response and watches the proceedings without a word.
They sit through the speeches, the music and ceremony, and of course, everyone applauds when Una receives her diploma and a yellow rose as her name is announced. She beams and waves at them as she follows the rest of the procession down the line, and Kent is struck with the fact that his baby sister is now all grown up, wearing a long white dress that isn’t all princess ballerina ruffles, her hair down her back rather than in pigtails. Una is petite and bubbly and probably would love sappy nonsense like fuzzy little kittens and Disney movies for the rest of her life, but she is no longer a kid, and it makes Kent, at the advanced age of twenty-two, feel ancient.
The ceremony ends shortly, and Una breaks away from her friends to join them, and that is when all Hell breaks loose.
That she smiles and runs towards them, not quite graceful in her kitten heels, is not super surprising. She’s a soft-hearted little thing, after all, and unlike Kent, who’d grown up on a steady weekly diet of private tennis lessons and captained his rowing team at Yale, generally hated sports and athletic activity. But that she only spares her parents and Kent the most perfunctory greetings before making a beeline for Matt on the other hand stops Kent in his tracks, and when Matt hands her the roses, then opens his arms, and she jumps in, arms looping around his neck and blonde hair mingling with Matt’s black, Kent is almost certain his jaw made an audible thump as it hit the floor.
It isn’t the type of hug a girl would give a friend, or a brother, and the kiss Matt has the audacity to plant on her isn’t exactly fraternal in nature, either. Kent doesn’t even register his own parents’ reactions-- whether they were as shocked and appalled as he was, or whether, worse, they somehow knew about this. Matt picks up a giggling, blushing Una and swings her around, then sets her down and, even more horrifyingly, pulls out a small black velvet box out of a pocket. It’s like the climax scene of every fluffy chick flick ever except in Kent’s head, some 80s era Wes Craven horror movie soundtrack is playing over it.
Matt pulls a ring-- an actual RING!-- out of the box, classic antique platinum band with a flawless white pearl flanked by two small diamonds, and offers it to Una. “It’s not-- well, it’s my mother’s. I know we’re young, and you have college and I have med school. But I want you to wait for me. Someday, I want to do this again, with something just for you.” It’s an old-fashioned notion-- a promise ring-- but even more shocking is the fact that his normally quiet friend is doing this in front of everyfuckingbody like it’s not some huge spectacle, let alone the fact that apparently Matt and Una had been carrying on for goodness only knew how long before then, because she seems thrilled and misty-eyed rather than horrified and shrieking. She kisses Matt again, accepts the ring and the roses, and then, FINALLY, Matt manages to meet Kent’s eye, and Kent has no choice but to move his brain and body out of the fog and react.
He hauls Una none-too-gently out of Matt’s arms, and then punches Matt in the face, his friend’s head snapping back at the contact of Kent’s fist against his jaw. Matt almost falls down, but then Una is screeching and yanking Kent off like a baby kitten attempting to move a mastiff, and her ire is apparently at Kent for punching Matt rather than Matt for laying hands on her in every single violation to the Bro code in the history of ever.
“DON’T HIT MY BOYFRIEND!!! WE ARE IN LOVE AND YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!!” Undoubtedly, this is the liveliest graduation scene the hallowed grounds of Greenwich Academy has seen in at least a decade, and perhaps later, Kent would be reading about some pearl-clutching old biddy having a stroke because of this almost-brawl that would certainly be more in character at a dive bar that served cheap beer and twangy country music or whatever than here. But for now, Kent turns, open-mouthed, to stare at his sister. The petulant words and tone are definitely hers-- classic riled-up Una-- but since when was Matthew Darien Clark anything but his friend?
“Matt is NOT your boyfriend! Since when is Matt your boyfriend?! YOU JUST TURNED EIGHTEEN LAST JUNE SINCE WHEN DID YOU START HAVING BOYFRIENDS?!”
“Kent, you’re making a scene and embarrassing your sister.” His mother’s voice cuts through the haze and whatever undoubtedly furious retort Una has for his remark. “It is extremely unseemly to engage in this boisterous contretemps in public like an uncultured ruffian. Una, dear, do stop screaming. Do you think we might be able to find a place with some privacy to resolve this situation?”
“Why the need for privacy? HE’S the one who wanted to freaking damn near propose in front of all these people! He should suffer the consequences of his actions that HE chose to do publically!”
“I have nothing to say to you about Matt and myself, and until you get off your high horse and leave whichever awful Victorian planet where women sit cross-legged at home and bat their eyelashes while patiently waiting for the men to find something to do with their lives that you seem to be living on, I have nothing to say to you, period. Matt’s your FRIEND and you just punched him because, what, we’re in love?” Una clenched her jaw, then raised her chin in stubborn defiance. “If you’ll excuse me. I need to find some ice for my boyfriend’s face.”
“Kent, kindly don’t conduct yourself like a hooligan.” Even his father, apparently, was in on this horrifying scenario. Kent Crawford-Tate, Jr. looked his usual unruffled self, slightly bored and slightly disapproving with the scenario playing out. “Matthew is not a stranger or an unsuitable fellow, and he even asked my permission to do this beforehand. Your sister is happy.” He waves a hand at the crowd starting to gather around them, bequeaths a jovial smile. “Everything is perfectly fine, folks. Isn’t it a beautiful day? Are you all right there, son?” This last bit is directed at Matt himself, who is rubbing his jaw gingerly, but meets his eye with a wan smile.
“I’m fine, sir.” Matt then turns his dark-blue gaze towards Kent, and though his eyes are somber, they’re unapologetic and meet Kent’s without any fear. “I’m okay with you punching me. I guess we should have told you, but everything was happening so fast. I’m sorry you’re upset over it, but I’m not going to stop seeing Una just to appease you.” An awful, sappy smile crosses Matt’s face. “She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
“Okay, that’s my sister, and that’s disgusting, and never do that again.” Kent shudders. It’s incredibly demoralizing to learn that not only is he the last one to know about this outrageous new development, but Matt’s focus is completely on Una’s happiness. “Do I even want to know how long this has been going on?”
“Since the time my grandmother got sick. Una caught me on a bad day, and just… she understood. We must have talked for hours.” Matt, the noble idiot, brushes lint off his stark black lapels and makes that lovesick face again despite Kent’s stern injunctions just a moment prior. “Your whole family has been incredibly supportive, and I can’t thank them enough, of course. But Una-- she’s like light shining through the darkness. I don’t know what I would have done this last year without her.”
“Ugh.” It’s an uncouth nothing of a word, but Kent finds that he doesn’t have anything else to say. The idea of being friends with a boyfriend of Una’s has literally never occurred to him before, nor the idea of his own best friend eyeing his little sister, nor even the idea of his best friend being in love, period. Certainly Matt was not the sort to tomcat around the Yale campus like some of the other rich, privileged douchebags of their acquaintance, but they were too damn young to settle down for 2.4 kids and a white picket fence. Or, more likely in their case, 2.4 kids, a live-in housekeeper, and a six-bedroom mansion with a three-car garage.
His asshole disgrace of a best friend has the nerve to smile. “You’ll know what I mean someday, bro.”
“Why, you have any long-lost sisters?” It’s a snotty remark at best, but Matt is too nice of a guy to care, and Kent privately finds the idea of continuing to pick a fight with someone who, goddammit, is just not willing to engage, about equal to the idea of arguing with a six-year-old about the existence of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Sure, it may be an easy battle to win, but the victory would feel dickish at best, unjust at worst.
“No, but you’ll fall in love yourself someday. And when you find the right woman, nothing will be as important to you as bringing a smile to her face, and all you’ll want from your friends and others around you is the support and goodwill to share in your happiness.”
“Sounds like a hocus pocus curse, so you should probably stop that shit. I didn’t punch you that hard, you ass.” Kent doesn’t want to shake on it and call it good, not in front of all these people, especially since they’ve already given everyone at that year’s graduation more than enough of a shit show, so he hunches his shoulders, well aware that a multitude of young, white-gowned debutantes are eyeing him like something beneath a microscope slide, and hightails it out to the parking lot.
His car is… noticeable, even in this sea of luxurious, flashy Range Rovers and Mercedes Benzes and Bentleys. The sleek black Maserati with the custom gold trim had been a present for his own graduation a month earlier from his parents. Sure, he rarely ever drove it into the questionable parts of town, and certainly it is a vehicle that screams ‘PLEASE HIT ME WITH A SPEEDING TICKET AGAIN, OFFICER, AND MAKE IT A GOOD ONE!’ the way a BDSM fetishist might scream at some leather-clad dominatrix plying a cat-o’-nine-tails on his backside, but it is a Thing of Beauty and a Joy Forever. Kent makes a beeline towards it, then stops in his tracks about two feet away.
Una had certainly NOT been fetching ice for Matt’s jaw in the interim. Keyed into the exorbitantly-expensive custom paint job, in loopy, girlish handwriting, are the words “SCREW YOU, I DO WHAT I WANT!”, followed by a bright pink lipstick heart on the side mirror.
God fucking dammit! He was too damn young to have two heart attacks in one day.
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leswansong · 5 years
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Marichat May - Kitty Cats & Ballet Shoes
Day Three: Kittens
[ A03 ]
   Marinette did all the research she could, a quick google search gave her almost all the information she needed. Chat Noir, somewhat famous jewel thief with a ten thousand euro reward for any information that led to his capture. News reports stated that Chat Noir had eluded capture many times, escaped from several of the police traps, snuck past million dollar alarm systems. He preferred to steal rare and unique pieces of jewellery, what happened to them afterwards no one knew because there was no trace of them ever being re-sold. Alya would be able to help her more but she really did not want to get her friend involved in such a delicate situation, maybe down the line once she was sure she had Chat Noir’s full trust then she could.
   She wanted to tell someone. Alya, she loved her best friend but if she sent her a simple text like ‘Hey just met a jewel thief, how was your day?’ Alya would drop everything and fly back to France just to be on her doorstep the next morning to bombard her with questions, she would then try and catch Chat Noir herself, sometimes Alya didn’t know where to stop. She considered telling the police or even her teachers well… they wouldn’t be able to do anything, they only thing they could do was send the necklace back to its incredibly secure vault and then nobody would be able to see it, they would never let it out of its vault every again and The Nutcracker would lose its star attraction.
   In the forty years that it had appeared in the production there were only a handful of photos of it so nobody knew exactly what it looked like, the only thing Marinette remembered about it was the way the stage lights bounced off of it when she was six. From the few photos and description online the necklace was small and when worn sat like a choker. It was made up of small white diamonds ranging from four to six karats all octagonal but what made the necklace so special was a rare 50 carat flawless pear-shaped pink diamond. Marinette fell in love with the necklace with only the description, there was no way she was going to let Chat steal it, the necklace deserved to be seen by the world not locked away.
   Marinette was surprised Chat Noir bought her little story about revenge but even more surprised when he gave her something to do, she just needed to-
   “Marinette!”
   She snapped back to the real world, the entire cast was staring at her, she was missing something. Her eyes scanned the group, the opera singer standing in front of her all dressed up in her Athena costume, the other ballerinas in starting positions… Oh right, the ballet, quickly she entered her own starting position behind the opera singer playing Zeus.
   Madame Aonso had an unorthodox way of teaching group dances to her ballerina’s, she preferred to have everyone together after about a week of teaching everybody the steps so she could see who was falling behind. she was like a mother hen to everyone but a fox to those that didn’t put the effort in, she was Marinette’s favourite instructor and had helped her get many of her previous small roles. The music started and Marinette waited for her cue before allowing her body to go through the hours of meticulous practice.
   Marinette’s mind wandered back to the thief as she danced, he had texted a lot over the past few days, she tried to keep her distance from him but he was persistent, reluctantly and begrudgingly she gave in if only to earn a little more of his trust. His acted so… normal which threw her off, she had expected him to rarely text her and only ask if she had heard anything about The Nutcracker but no he asked about her day, sent her funny little bits of information and the strange people he bumped into. Slowly she learned a little bit about his life and it was interesting because it was so very different from hers. She twirled around a final time completing the dance.
   Madame nodded her head, “Again!” she yelled.
   Marinette bowed and shuffled back to her starting position, her eyes flicked up to the catwalk above her, he was up there leaning over the balustrade, bitting back a groan she started to dance again trying to push him as far as she could from her mind but that was impossible.
   “Stop!”
   She froze mid-step and only just managed to stop herself from stumbling over her own feet, Madame Aonso stepped up onto the stage and a feeling of dread bubbled up to the surface, she knew what was about to happen.
   “You,” the woman’s turn voice boomed, she was pointing to a girl three down from Marinette, “dismissed,” tears fell freely from the girl's eyes and soon she was bawling her eyes out. The girl covered her eyes with her hands and ran from the stage disappearing out of sight.
   Marinette’s heart broke for the girl, she looked new to the stage and this was most likely her first production but Madame Aonso’s word was law and if you were dismissed, you would quickly find that your role had been filled by someone else willing to put the time and effort in.
   “Marinette!” Aonso practically yelled.
   Marinette stepped forward out of formation, her eyes were fully focused on the teacher, their eyes meet and she held her breath.
   “You’re free to go.”
   Relief washed over her, she bowed her head and exited the stage. She looked up at the catwalk before she headed down the corridor to her small dressing room, it was empty which meant Chat Noir was already in her dressing room, taking a deep breath to mentally prepare herself.
   She was really looking forward to having some time for herself but now that was off the table, she pushed open the door to her dressing room, Chat had his back to her looking down into something on her dressing table, she checked the hall then gently shut the door locking the two within. Curiously she walked over to him to see what had captivated his gaze, the corner of a large cardboard box slowly came into view. She frowned as she was a little confused as to why he would bring a cardboard box with him.
   “Chat? Why did you-“ she moved to stand beside him.
   “You weren’t answering my messages and I- I couldn’t leave them outside, I’m sorry I-“
   She drowned out his apologises as she stared into the box, she hated herself on the spot because she could feel herself growing attached to the small litter of kittens. It was a problem she had always had, her poor parents had to deal with her constantly bringing home stray dogs, cats and the occasional bird.
   “Chat… Please tell me you checked to see if their mother around before removing them from-“ He cut her off before she could finish.
   “I did,” he assured him, “there was a lid on the box too and I’ll spare you the details on where I found them.”
   She nodded her head in relief and reached in to pick up the only calico kitten out of the box. It looked barely over a month old, the kitten let out a small cry in her hands so she quickly put it back in with its siblings. Marinette looked at them one last time before letting out a sigh, years of her bringing home strays had taught her a lot and right now she knew there was no way that she wasn’t going to be able to keep them, they were too young to survive without their mother so they had to be taken to a vet.
   Chat was going to hate that they had to go to a vet, the caring look he was giving the kittens said it all but he had to know.
   “Chat… they need-“
   “No.”
   “Chat if they don’t they-“
   “I said no.”
   Why did he have to be so stubborn, she needed to get them to a vet, didn’t he understand that they won’t- ugh!.
   “Chat, please,” she begged to try to get him to understand.
   “I won’t see them again if they go,” a tear formed in the corner of his green cat-like eyes, she felt sorry to do this to him.
   He wiggled his finger around in the box for a grey kitten that was trying to attack them, it was a cute sight.
   “Chat… I need to take them…”
   He reluctantly removed his fingers from the box and gently slid it across the small dresser to her, it was light in her hands, she adjusted her grip so that she was supporting its base.
   She turned to the door but Chat’s gloved hand suddenly being placed on her arm, “Marinette.”
   “Yes?”
   “Text me when… when they-“
   She gave him a small reassuring smile, “Don’t worry, they’ll be okay.”
   He smiled back at her trying to hide the pain behind it.
   Pausing in front of the door she looked down at the doorknob and back at the box in her hands, she tried to adjust the way she was holding the box but it was too large to fix under her arm.
   Chat let out a laugh behind her, she guessed it must have been a funny sight, “here I’ll help you,” he offered, taking the box from her, “you need your gym bag too.”
   “And I need to change my shoe’s,” she remembered staring down at her pointed shoes still on her feet.
   “That too.”
   She sighed and fell into her chair untying the ribbons that kept the shoes in place. Chat kicked over her gym bag for her, reaching in she dug out her old crappy white sneakers and then slipped them on to her still wrapped feet.
   “I-“ Chat started.
   She looked up at him, her fingers continued to tie her shoes, “what?”
   “Your- Your feet,” he stuttered.
   She looked down at them, sometimes she forgot that people didn’t know how much of a beating her feet went through while she danced, “you’ve never seen a ballet dancers feet before have you?”
   He shook his head in response, “No, are- are you okay?”
   She gave him a soft smile, “I’m fine thank you for your concern.”
   “Are they normally like that?”
   “Comes with the territory,” she explained.
   “Does it hurt?”
   “A little,” she replied tying the final knot, “But I’m fine,” she said again trying to reassure him. She flung her gym bag over her shoulders, her ballet shoes were neatly stored away in it. Chat continued to stare blankly down at her shoes, “Chat?”
   “Hmm?”
   “I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” she told him while trying to slowly remove the box from his hands, he reluctantly handed it to her.
   He didn’t seem to believe her but opened the door for her. She smiled at him again it was the only thing she could think of to not make it awkward between them as he started to escort her down the halls of the opera house.
   There weren’t any people in the halls because they were all in a dance class or rehearsal but that didn’t stop Marinette from looking over her shoulders in concern.
   “Marinette stop worrying, we’ll be fine.”
   “And what happens if someone sees you?”
   “I’m in costume,” he replied with a shrug.
   She nodded her head, it was a believable lie.
   From the few meetings and messages she had received from him he had struck her as a kind-hearted person, she wondered what had driven him to thievery. She would have to tell the police about him, that he was planning on stealing a priceless necklace but she didn’t have to tell them right now did she? His steal toed boots echoed off the bricked walls around her and lots of questions floated around in her head at that moment, questions she could just ask the masked man beside her but was too scared to pipe up, she wanted to know why he stole, what did he want the necklace and what was it all for, so many unanswered questions.
   She stepped out onto the Paris streets, glancing behind her she found Chat wasn’t there, she didn’t hear him say goodbye or his boots leave her but then again she was self-absorbed in her own head and wasn’t exactly paying attention to the world around her. A massive gust of wind hit her and she set down and tugged on a thin jacket that had been in her gym bag, it would give her some relief from the cold, she also pulled out a spare shirt and placed it in the box with the kittens, they were immediately crawling and curling up in its warmth. Pulling her phone out of her pocket she googled for the nearest veterinarian clinic finding one six blocks away. She sighed, it was a little further than she wanted to go but it was the only one open at the time, placing her phone in the box so she could see the directions she picked up the box and headed down the street.
   The sound of metal hitting what she thought was brick reached her ears, she looked to the rooftop for the source finding nothing, she frowned but kept moving forward towards her destination, the feeling of being watched stuck with her. She shook her head, she was overreacting over a small noise nobody was following her, they would have to be extremely good to at parkour to follow her plus in some places they would have to make some impossible leaps and bounds just to continue following her, it would much easier to follow her on the streets below.
   Marinette pushed against the glass door with her shoulder to enter the clinic. The small waiting room was mostly empty apart from the receptionist and an older gentleman with a parrot sitting happily on his shoulder. She shut her eyes and sighed, opening them again she walked up to the reception desk and set the box down on the floor beside her.
   “Do you have an appointment? the receptionist asked.
   “No, I have some kitten’s their mother was a stray in my neighbour and she, unfortunately, got run over a yesterday morning, I knew that she had kittens and I just found them and I-“ she nervously explained.
   She couldn’t believe that she was lying for Chat Noir right now, that no good thief had somehow managed to get her to lie, the one thing she hated doing. Ugh! Why was she lying?
   The receptionist passed up a clipboard with paperwork that she needed to fill in, “Name, Address, Phone number, leave out what you don’t know and I’ll help you fill that in.
   Marinette picked up a pen on a string and filled in her information she reached the field dedicated to her ‘pet,’ she was tempted to ask the receptionist how she was supposed to fill in this field but one look at the litter at her feet and her heart melted. They were all curled up against each other on the red long sleeved shirt she had put in, it was official she was just as attached as Chat was to them. She smiled and filled in as much as she could about them and handed it back. The receptionist quickly typed up the new information on the page.
   “Someone should be with you in a moment.”
   Marinette picked up the box and headed over to the seated area picking a seat on the other side away from the older man, she really didn’t feel like talking to the older gentleman. She sat down and quickly her phone was in hand, she sent a text to Alya telling her that she would be late to their weekly scheduled Skype call, Alya responded in mere seconds telling her it was okay and to message her when she got home. Her phone constantly dinged with panicked messages from Chat, she bit her lip unsure of how to respond so she eventually settled on ignoring him until after she had seen the vet but he eventually won, the constant chiming from her was slowly driving her crazy, she pulled the box up onto her lap and holding the phone steady she snapped a picture and sent it to him to try and earn a minute of peace. The messages stopped and Marinette leaned back in her chair letting out a sigh in relief, happy with the silence.
   “Marinette?” a woman asked.
   She looked over her shoulder in the direction of the voice, the woman was dressed in a magenta hospital garb, Marinette picked up the box and followed the woman into the sterile room.
Made for @marichatmay
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Trinkets, Valuable, 6: More useful than simple baubles touched mystery, these items have either a clear purpose, a reliable ability or are made from a fairly costly material. The items could fetch fair prices to collectors of the strange, jewelers, antique or art dealers or simply to barter with if the owner is short on actual currency.
A cute purple hair ribbon. When worn, the bearer is relieved of any mundane headaches or migraines they have and cannot develop them whilst wearing the ribbon.
A silk scarf that has been magically enchanted to look like flowing water. The fabric's water has a current and onlookers will notice ripples and bubbles in the scarf's constantly flowing pattern.
A golden hair pin set with a jasper spider. When worn, the bearer is aware of the exact location of any spider within three feet of them.
A steel fork that instantly cooks to perfection small pieces of raw meat (One inch cubed or smaller) that are skewered by its tines.
A peacock writing quill that never runs out of ink, but randomly changes the color of its ink every hour.
A wooden box, half a cubic foot in size that causes bread placed in it for more than one minute to become lightly toasted and buttered on one side.
A bracelet made from a lattice of woven silver that automatically adjusts itself to the wrist size of its bearer.
A large flawless white pearl that fills whoever holds it with a desire to help others regardless of the risk to their own life. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize this as a Saintsblood Pearl. It is said that when the pure of heart are martyred for their faith, the blood that spills from them is white as the purest snow. As the droplets come in contact with the cold-hearted world, they harden into Saintsblood Pearls, through which the martyr may still grant blessings to the faithful.
A plain, unadorned, black obelisk three feet in height. If placed in dirt, stone or sand, directly under the open sky, a miniature storm cloud will form three feet above the obelisk and will loose a torrent of rain and a near-constant barrage of lightning on the stone. The rain evaporates immediately and cannot be drank or collected and the lighting is equivalent to harmless static shocks.
Adversarial Melody: A black and red music box that upon casual use, appears to be broken. When cranked, the ballerina in the box twirls around but only one creature in all of existence can hear it. Whoever considers themselves the bearer's worst enemy can hear a faint, disembodied nursery rhyme. The bearer is not necessarily aware of this phenomenon.
—Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.
—Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.
A cute purple hair ribbon. When worn, the bearer is relieved of any mundane headaches or migraines they have and cannot develop them whilst wearing the ribbon. 
A silk scarf that has been magically enchanted to look like flowing water. The fabric's water has a current and onlookers will notice ripples and bubbles in the scarf's constantly flowing pattern.
A golden hair pin set with a jasper spider. When worn, the bearer is aware of the exact location of any spider within three feet of them.
A steel fork that instantly cooks to perfection small pieces of raw meat (One inch cubed or smaller) that are skewered by its tines.
A peacock writing quill that never runs out of ink, but randomly changes the color of its ink every hour.
A wooden box, half a cubic foot in size that causes bread placed in it for more than one minute to become lightly toasted and buttered on one side.
A bracelet made from a lattice of woven silver that automatically adjusts itself to the wrist size of its bearer.
A large flawless white pearl that fills whoever holds it with a desire to help others regardless of the risk to their own life. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize this as a Saintsblood Pearl. It is said that when the pure of heart are martyred for their faith, the blood that spills from them is white as the purest snow. As the droplets come in contact with the cold-hearted world, they harden into Saintsblood Pearls, through which the martyr may still grant blessings to the faithful.
A plain, unadorned, black obelisk three feet in height. If placed in dirt, stone or sand, directly under the open sky, a miniature storm cloud will form three feet above the obelisk and will loose a torrent of rain and a near-constant barrage of lightning on the stone. The rain evaporates immediately and cannot be drank or collected and the lighting is equivalent to harmless static shocks.
Adversarial Melody: A black and red music box that upon casual use, appears to be broken. When cranked, the ballerina in the box twirls around but only one creature in all of existence can hear it. Whoever considers themselves the bearer's worst enemy can hear a faint, disembodied nursery rhyme. The bearer is not necessarily aware of this phenomenon.
Companion's Refrain: A white and green music box that upon casual use, appears to be broken. When cranked, the ballerina in the box twirls around but only one creature in all of existence can hear it. Whoever considers themselves the bearer's best friend can hear a faint, disembodied nursery rhyme. The bearer is not necessarily aware of this phenomenon.
A set of masterfully crafted manacles with each carefully forged link containing a relevant parable or meaningful quote excerpted from sacred texts.
A lovingly crafted travel tankard that makes all manner of liquids drunk from it taste of mead. 
A six inch long decorative silver fish with deep emerald eyes.
A golden incense burner etched with a smooth, flowing script spelling out prayers to the god of the sky.
An empty Randomly Colored ceramic jar that emanates a constant but barely audible growling noise. When opened, a wolf howl bursts forth from it and continues until it is closed. The jar will howl up to one full minute per day.
A sealed glass jar with a series of small holes in the lid that contains six lightning bugs. When the jar is opened, they fly out, but stay in a line formation as if tired together with a small, invisible string. If the lid of the jar is tapped three times, the bugs will fly back into the jar. The fireflies require no food or sustenance and do not age as long as they spend the majority of their time in their jar.
A a small maple box lined with white velvet. Inside lies a set of three handkerchiefs; light grey, cobalt blue, and pitch black in color. They never stain or become damaged by any liquid they soak up and always smell freshly laundered.
A thick, gold, box chain style necklace that grows at the same rate as the bearer's hair up to a maximum of one inch a day. The links are stronger than steel but if cut, melted or otherwise broken, the entire chain crumbles to worthless dust.
A small, plain, silver music box. When opened, it plays a slightly off tune version of the bearer's favorite song.
An empty, pixie sized gold flask patterned with leaves and vines
A hand sized canine tooth with organic looking silver and gold veins running through it
A sky-blue, glass bottle bearing a hand sized sculpture of a silver eagle wrapped around the top of the glass.
A thin, grey, woolen blanket that is oddly soft and cozy. Its material stays at the bearer's preferred temperature no matter the weather conditions, but only when the bearer is unconscious.
An elaborately carved maple cigar box lined with red silk. In it, lies a cigar clip, and three large cigars. Each have an identical gold paper label with an image of an orc snarling on it.
A set of women's hair curlers, that when worn overnight cause the bearer's hair to become poker straight hair instead of the expected ringlets. This effect lasts 24 hours and causes no damage to the hair.
A large brass candelabra that will only allow the candles to stay lit for an hour at a time, no matter their size. They can be re-lit at any point after the candelabra snuffs them out. Knowledgeable PC's will realize that this was likely meant to be used in a large bedroom as a precaution against the user falling asleep with candles still burning, thus wasting them or risking a house-fire.
A bejeweled ivory drinking horn with gold filigree
A permanently boogery nose ring of orcish design that was worn by a revered historian for the majority of his life. While worn, the bearer becomes familiar with all aspects of orcish life. The nose ring imposes disadvantage on all of the bearer's diplomacy checks (Even towards orcs) but grants advantage on all knowledge checks related to orcish culture, history or society. The nose ring must be worn for eight hours before the bearer gains the benefits, however the penalty to diplomacy takes effect immediately when worn.
A wood case containing five animal figurines carved of turquoise on a bed of velvet.
A silver chalice set with moonstones wrapped in white linen
A heavy iron door knocker in the shape of a stag's head. When the knocker is used, its owner hears a disembodied voice whisper that there is a guest at the door. The owner is defined as the creature who attached the knocker to the door or wall. The owner must be within 100 feet of the knocker to hear the whisper.
A black leather surgeon’s case that can be strapped to the waist or thigh, or can be slung over a shoulder. It consists of a leather pouch, a set of bandages, a sewing kit with silk thread, a scalpel, a bone saw, a bottle of strong brandy and a vial of smelling salts.  
A bolt of white cashmere cloth that never seems to get dirty, wrapped in oilskin.
A hairpin set with an iridescent opal. The gem changes to a Random Colour every day.
A silver coin. It’s precisely geometric in its patterning and shape, and is too thick and large to be practical as currency. It may serve in some sort of ceremonial ritual, as a key or activation object or be used as a debt marker of some sort.
A bundle of good quality lion pelts tied together with leather strips and wrapped in oilskin
A single red tinted coin made of pewter with distinctive markings on each side. Knowledgeable PC’s will recognize this as a Smugglers' Coin, which is sometimes used as a payment or debt marker and form of currency by shadier merchants, smugglers and black market communities. The markings on each side is a cipher, one side tells who created the marker and the other side tells of it’s worth in goods, trade or services. Without a member of the black market community or the proper cipher code, the markings are untranslatable.
A black leather eye patch with a mock eye set in blue sapphire and moonstone
Book of Dreams: A heavy book whose cover is made from soft leather and is bound with spider silk string thread and rare bird feathers. The tome is blank, but when a story is told by someone holding it open, illusionary imagery appears hovering above the book, acting out what the storyteller describes. In the hands of a skill orator, the illusions can serve as an impressive visual aid, acting out each loving described detail, heart wrenching emotional cue and choreographed fight scene. The book can also create terribly misshapen wretches whose very existence offends the nature of any creature with measurable visual acuity when in the hands of a terrible narrator. In addition, when a story puts a creature to sleep, the storyteller may allow the book to display and act out the sleeper’s dreams, which usually tie in to the story that was being told.
A small square of brown cloth that when clapped between the bearer's hands, springs into a full sized feather pillow. Collapsing it requires the same process and allows for easy transportation.
A small golden ear cuff that will fit comfortably on any creature. While worn, the bearer cannot hear the buzzing of any small insects.
A long golden bracelet resembling a snake made of fine links fashioned to look like scales, one end is flared for the head with two ruby chips for eyes. When worn, it wraps up to the elbow of a medium sized humanoid. When attuned, the bearer will begin to drag out the “s” sounds in their sentences.
A small silver plated ring box whose lid is covered in tiny sapphire studs. The inside is covered in soft, deep blue velvet.
A set of silver, cat eye spectacles with emeralds set into the winged points.
A hollowed out acorn with a small diamond stuck in it. The acorn shell's will not break while housing the diamond.
A sterling silver goblet that keeps any drink in it cool and refreshing.
A large bowl fashioned out of pale blue lapis lazuli. The rim of the bowl is etched with a smooth, flowing script spelling out prayers to the god of the sea.
A teacup painted with silver filigree designs that keeps any drink in it warm.
A small grey rock that will turn a metallic gold if dropped into a drink with any alcohol in it. The stone reverts to it's normal grey color one minute after being removed from the liquid.
A pair of large, thick gold hoop earrings with small mouse skulls hanging from them.
A horn rimmed monocle mounted on a fine gold chain.
A gold bracelet, attached to four gold finger rings by little chains. It has a miniature lock with a tiny matching key, to attach it to the hand. Curiously it seems to automatically adapt to any female hand, wrist and fingers.
A silver decanter wrapped in linen cloth
A bundle of good quality bobcat pelts tied together with leather strips and wrapped in oilskin
A hand-sized, ivory figurine of a seated woman covered by her own hair. Female creatures capable of casting magical spells, find the carving strangely warm to the touch
A golden hair clip resembling a hummingbird in flight.
A golden hair clip in the shape of an eight-pointed star. It has four long wavy rays and four short ones.
A slim jeweled belt made of woven gold and covered in fine ruby chips.
A hand-sized ivory statuette of a man holding a sword. Male creatures capable of casting magical spells, find the carving strangely warm to the touch.
A pair of beautiful silver earrings that are mildly cursed. They cause the bearer to randomly hear malicious sounding whispering in a language they can't understand.
A brass doorknob which creates an illusionary wooden door when attached to a wall by any means.
A tiny, delicate cherry wood box, stained a rich crimson. Finely engraved along the perimeter of the lid are various animals. The box is warm to the touch, but only ever so slightly warmer than body temperature. Once per week the box produces a small purple crystal. The crystal has no discernible purpose but if placed in the mouth it dissolves and produces a sweet, pleasant taste.
A gold music box that when wound, plays a love song
A bundle of good quality lynx pelts tied together with leather strips and wrapped in oilskin
A silver holy symbol that floats around it's owner's head in a orbiting circle. For some reason it makes it's owner feel safe from hostile ghosts, although it offers no actual protection.
A Randomly Coloured ceramic eyeball that floats around its owner at eye level and stares directly at whoever is closest to its owner.
A drinking cup that subtly changes color depending on the chemical compositions of its contents. With careful years of study, a person could craft a reference book and use the cup to identify all kinds of liquids... perhaps even poisons. Indeed, it's possible that someone has already compiled such a book, but if they did it was separated from the cup long ago. The cup while always turn clear when containing pure water.  
A broken platinum rod smeared with black ichor.
A skeleton key made from an intricately carved fish bone. The key has a 50% chance of successfully unlocking a standard lock. Delicate bone makes a terribly brittle material however and the key has a 25% chance of breaking apart after each attempted use.  
A wooden case with a glass display containing a dozen superbly lifelike houseflies made of pure gold on a brown satin sheet.  
A heavy glass bottle containing a viscous black fluid labeled “Blackfire Breath”. This alcoholic “drink” is 95% pure grain alcohol and the other 5% is the maker's secret ingredient which compounds the effectiveness of the liquor tenfold. A single shot of this “beverage” is enough to place an adult man of particularly strong constitution in need of a cleric for healing and a normal man in need of a cleric for funeral rites. Extremely knowledgeably PC's will know that the secret ingredient is the result of a complex distillation process, which uses the glands responsible for producing the potent acid of a black dragon's breath weapon as its raw material.
A detailed decorative arrow made entirely of silver, including it's head and fletching. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize this as the second place trophy of the annual archery competition of a local city.  
A sealed suitcase containing a mint condition, mink fur coat sized for an adult halfing or human child.
A bundle of good quality shark pelts tied together with dried seaweed and wrapped in oilskin
A circular silver medallion strung on a thick purple ribbon. The medal is plain except for a set of five interlocking circles underneath  the word “2nd” which has all been etched into the silver. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize this as the second place trophy of multi-planar sporting even that occurs every four years.
A crystal decanter wrapped in linen cloth
A gallon clay jug that holds a long-dead rabbit in aspic and stringent herbs under a thin layer of the creature's own fat. If the jug is shattered, the creature lies still for a few seconds, before commencing to slowly crawl about, gasping and fluttering its hind legs. This pathetic minor undead cannot take commands or even defend itself, serving perhaps only as incriminating evidence or a minor diversion as it hops about in a random and energetic fashion before expiring after five minutes.
A large, handheld, silver ritual bell with a long wooden handle. Ritual bells are typically used for ceremonial purposes, often as a means of getting the attention of large audiences. The silver has been engraved with the words of the morning prayers of a particular religion, and is no doubt used to wake its adherents up at dawn.  
A hollow silver tube, covered in intricate glyphs and small, flute-like keys
A silver censer, supported by a length of finely worked dark iron chain that seems to radiate black smoke when not looked at directly, but is inert upon closer inspection. Any incense burned in the censer is many times more pungent than it would be otherwise, and seems to cause momentary dizziness and disorientation to those who breath in the smoke.
A white handkerchief that is always pristine no matter what mess it’s used to clean up and will dry itself in a span of five minutes
A rare silver coin whose face shows an image of the legendary Knight King Rendal.
A rare gold coin whose face shows an image of the Allfather Lloyd and his white halo.
A platinum fragment engraved with incoherent labyrinths.
A heavy thimble made of pure gold
A beautiful hand fan of ceremonial bearing with a picture of a breathtaking mountainscape on a windy day. The image is magically animated and clouds, trees and snowdrifts continuously move
A thumb sized gem made of black opal. The pattern inside the gem resembles the night's sky.
A strange coin, with one golden side, one silver side and a rim of copper.
A silver ewer wrapped in silk cloth
An expertly crafted helmet that has several small arms which hold various magnifying lenses near the bearer's face. They’re kept in place by locking hinges and crude gyroscopes that compensate for normal head movements. Caps like this are commonly used by tinkers, jewelers, appraisers, and bankers. While worn, it provides advantage to the bearer when used to appraise the value of an item, when examining an item for defects or to identify a forgery.
A gold comb in the shape of a dragon set with red garnets as eyes
A bundle of good quality tiger pelts tied together with leather strips and wrapped in oilskin
A large ceramic jug containing a gold cup set with emeralds
Token of the Brash: A heavy gold coin from an unfamiliar civilization, depicting a harsh looking bearded man on one side and an odd coat of arms on the other. When on their person, the bearer will become harsh and uncouth in any conversation they participate in. They speak any rude thoughts that come to mind and will feel no remorse for their words as long as it's kept on their person. The effect is noticeable to the bearer as well as any who listen to him. The effect ceases as soon as the coin is removed from the creature's person or placed in a lead lined box.
Token of the Elated: A heavy silver coin from an unfamiliar civilization depicting a jovial bearded man on one side and a sunset etched on the other. When on their person, the bearer will become unceasingly happy. They will joke and make happy small talk to anyone that so much as looks their direction as long as the coin is kept on their person. The effect is noticeable to the bearer as well as any who listen to them. The effect ceases as soon as the coin is removed from the creature's person or placed in a lead lined box.
A sleep mask made of a deep green silk. When worn, the bearer has dreams of a sexual nature about the last person they spoke to.
A plain looking copper coin with a small etching of a fish hidden among its other marking. It turns into a foul smelling rotten fish after spending five or more consecutive minutes touching at least four other coins of any denomination. It reverts back to being a coin if if goes without touching any other coins for one hour.
A brown leather bandolier holding seven silver bells with mahogany handles. The bandolier is custom made to keep the bells firmly in place, with internal flaps which keep the clappers from moving. The bells vary in size, starting with one the size of a small pill bottle and growing larger, till the seventh is almost the size of a jar. The wood and metal of the bells are etched with an ancient array of necromantic sigils known as Charter Marks. Knowledgeable PC's will remember a set of stories involving an order of benevolent necromancers known as Abhorsen whose charge was to maintain the border between life and death. It was said that they channeled their magic though a set of bells, that when properly used by one powerful enough could grant the ringer complete master over life and death. It was also said that a single accidental note from the wrong bell could kill the wielder and everyone else within earshot. Either way these bells are either masterful reproductions of old stories or their magic has long since departed, as ringing the bells causes nothing but reminding the listener of their own mortality.  
Love's Labour's Lost: A fairly plain looking gold coin with the head of a hansom male human on one side and a gorgeous female human on the other. The soft gold is somehow always completely free of scratches, dirt or grime no matter it's treatment. Knowledgeable PC's capable of identifying magical items, will be able to determine that the coin is actually a set of memories and emotions solidified into physical form by magic. A particularly perceptive PC using a powerful magnifying glass will notice that the rough, uneven edge of the coin is actually a series of storyboards scenes. The pictures describe the owner's first meeting with his love and all their experiences both violent and loving, joyous and sorrowful up until the last time he saw her and was forced to leave her behind, knowing that she wouldn't be able to wait for him. At the break where the storyboard ends and begins again is the figure eight symbol of infinity with a “V” in one circle and a “D” in the other. It's likely that the owner's grief drove him to have his feelings and memories of her forcibly removed so he would no longer hurt inside. However the owner was too sentimental to simply throw his feelings away and carries his love with him wherever he goes. Unbeknownst to the owner, the experiences can be returned to his mind simply by placing the coin in his mouth which causes the gold to dissolve and the memories to return in a rushing torrent of love and loss. The magic of the coin compels the owner to keep it in his possession and instill the feeling that the item is somehow important. The coin's owner would rather die than lose it and would not doubt be extremely grateful for it's safe return.
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darlingpetao3 · 5 years
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Rewrite the Stars (Harry Wells x Reader, Chapter 10 - Pretty Woman AU)
Rating: Mature
Summary: While on a business trip, Harrison “Harry” Wells has a chance meeting with the Reader on the streets of Star City. Both from two very different worlds, these two spend the week together under the form of a ‘business proposition,’ only to discover that their feelings are more than strictly professional. Based on the 1990 film Pretty Woman.
Warnings: Topic of Sex-Work, Sexual Content, Unwanted Physical Advances, Coarse Language, and Major Feels
Tag list: @thecaptainsgingersnap  @seabasstiantrash  @cavanaghcollins @obsessedadryana @technicallykawaiisoul @ill-breach-you-there-right-now  @drwellwellwells
Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6 Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9
A/N: The song for this chapter is The Way You Look Tonight and can be found on our playlist here.
Ready for the most romantic date on earth??
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~Him~
“Jack, I can’t talk right now,” I said hurriedly into the phone. “I’m leaving soon for my date. I can’t-”
“Date? Since when do you have a date, Harrison? That’s not like you! Is it with the hooker?”
“I’d be careful if I were you, Jack.”
“What? I’m just saying, no matter how bad the date goes, at least you’ll have a happy ending if you know what I mean-”
I hung up on the bastard, trying not to let my temper get the better of me. There was no way in hell I was going to let anyone or anything ruin tonight with (Y/N). It had to be perfect. She deserved perfect.
I was stood out in the main room of the penthouse, waiting for her to come out from behind the closed doors of the bedroom. I felt nervous, which was incredibly unlike me, and I took to pacing a small section of the room and fiddling with my white shirt collar every so often.
I checked my watch and knew that we would have to leave in fifteen minutes if we were going to make it on time, information which I shared with (Y/N).
“Good things come to those who wait,” she shouted back. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay,” I replied, but I went back to pacing anyway if just to occupy myself and keep my nerves at bay.
A few minutes later, (Y/N) emerged finally from the bedroom in the most sublime red dress that could probably make the world stand still.
Though mine already had.
“Pick up your jaw, hot stuff,” she said cheekily. “And my eyes are up here.”
“You look…” I couldn’t even finish my sentence.
She smiled, taking a few steps further towards me before kissing my cheek. She was the definition of beauty and sophistication. It took me a second to remember I had something for her. I grabbed the box on the desk behind me and held it in front of her.
“Now, this is only a loan, but I thought you might like to wear this for tonight,” I said, and opened the lid, presenting her with a glittering diamond and ruby necklace. (Y/N)’s eyes widened in amazement.
“I get to wear that?” she said, apprehensive to touch the jewelry piece.
“If you let me do the honours?” I removed the item with care from the box and stood behind her to place it around her neck. She looked in the mirror at it, her smile brighter than the necklace itself.
“Harrison… how did you- how much is this thing worth?”
“Quarter of a million.”
“Whaa-? Are you pulling my leg?” Her eyes had gone wide, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
We made our way down to the lobby side by side, all the while passing hotel guests and staff whose heads turned as we walked by them. Although, this time, they were undeniably looking at (Y/N). But not with judgement.
I led her outside where I had a ride arranged to take us to the airfield. Where we were going wasn’t in Star City.
Once we were comfortably seated in the back of the car, (Y/N) excitedly turned to me.
“So, where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” I said, trying not to smile at the way she looked so desperate to know. She practically bounced the whole way to our destination and tried to pry a few clues from me, but I remained tight-lipped.
I helped her step out of the limousine and onto the tarmac upon arrival. Her eyebrows shot up at that sight of my jet sitting there waiting for us. (Y/N) turned to me. “Harry, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to impress me.”
I grinned. “What gave you that impression?”
She shook her head at me and took my arm as I led her to our personal transportation to Central City for the evening.
~
“The Ballet?”
“Do you like it?” I asked as (Y/N) looked at the programme for Swan Lake I’d handed to her.
“I’ve always wanted to go…” she said, nodding. Believe it or not, I wasn’t aware of this fact. I only saw the event as a perfect opportunity for a night out.
I almost fell as I accompanied her up the velvety red stairs to our seats. It didn’t matter that (Y/N) wore the most expensive clothing and diamonds here. I sincerely believed she was more beautiful - inside and out - than anyone else in this room. I only had eyes for her.
We walked out onto the balcony to find our seats, and I turned to see if (Y/N) was alright but noticed she had stopped in her tracks. Her eyes studied the auditorium - the stage, the golden lights, the many people below us finding their seats.
“Are you coming, (Y/N)?”
“Yeah.”
I knew that if this was her reaction to the venue alone, I couldn’t imagine how blown away she’d look during the performance. All I knew was that I wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes off her once the show started.
We reached our seats and (Y/N) folded her hands in her lap, looking down at the stage with a look of awe. I placed my hand over hers which at once drew her attention to me, and she laced our fingers together. I smiled softly as I rubbed little circles on her skin.
The lights went out a few minutes later and the show began. The dancing was flawless and captivating, but as I’d predicted, I found (Y/N)’s reactions to be even more so.
She became especially enchanted with the dances of the Prima Ballerina and her two roles during the third act and at the tragic end of the ballet, she squeezed my hand tightly, and I watched her brush away some tears with the side of her hand.
When the dancers came out to take their bows, she was one of the first people on their feet, clapping with such enthusiasm that I knew I didn’t have to ask whether she’d enjoyed it.
Retaking her hand, I led her out of the theatre, but she was gushing the whole way down to the car.
“Did you see how elegant they were, Harry? And being up on their toes like that, doesn’t it hurt? It’s incredible.”
“It really is,” I replied, helping her down the stairs so that she didn’t trip on her dress.
One older lady seemed to overhear her wonder-filled comments and asked whether she’d enjoyed the show, and (Y/N) replied with how thrilled she was to have seen it. She turned to me when the lady had moved on, and I could see on her face at how delighted she was not to be on the end of someone’s judgement like she had been this week. She could just talk about something she loved.
I led her outside into the still bustling street, even though it was relatively late.
“Where are we going now, Harry?” she asked as I opened the door for her.
“Somewhere special.”
We drove a little further away from the centre of the city before getting out again. (Y/N) looked a little confused for a moment, but then I gestured above to the circular building containing my life’s (and future) work. “(Y/N)... welcome to S.T.A.R. Labs.”
She studied every section of the Labs as we passed through the glass doors, marvelling at our displays in the lobby, and the history along the walls. I wanted to show her every little thing, but there was one place in particular I needed her to see.
We took the elevator up a few floors and I guided her in the direction of our journey’s end. The finale, if you will.
Unlocking the door in front of me with my retina scan, I took her hand and led her into the pitch black room. I felt her hand grip mine tighter.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “Give it a second.”
I clicked a button on the fob in my pocket creating the first few twinkles appearing above us, followed by a few more, quickly growing in number until the entire room simulated a starry night. I heard her take in a breath.
“This is… It’s… I’m-”
For the first time since I’d known (Y/N), she was the one at a loss for words.
I clicked a different button on the fob and music began to play over the speaker system. I held out my hand. “Care to dance?”
I’d chosen the song before I’d seen her dressed up tonight, but now, the words to The Way You Look Tonight mirrored what I was feeling when I looked at her. She was bewitching, but I couldn’t put it into words myself.
She laughed softly, still smiling in wonder, but didn’t hesitate in taking my hand, and I brought her close to me. I placed my hand on the small of her back as hers went around me to hold my shoulder from behind. She rested her chin on my shoulder and leaned her head against mine softly, and we began to sway in the middle of the constellations shining around us.
Indeed the centre of our own little universe.
We stayed in each other’s hold for a minute, moving in time to the music, until I slid my hand to her waist and encouraged her to spin out and then back into my arms, just to watch her giggle. I did it again, but this time when she turned back, our faces ended up an inch apart from each other. Looking into my eyes, she blinked a few times, as though she was considering closing the gap, but then dipped her head and just rested herself against my chest again. She wound her arms around my middle and tucked her head under my chin.
I breathed in the scent of her hair in my inaudible sigh, and just wrapped my arms around her as the song came to an end. But (Y/N) didn’t move from where she was hugging me, so I didn’t either. Instead, I continued to sway on the spot, turning in a small circle so that she could see all of the stars around us.
“Tell me about them,” she said quietly, the noise muffled by my shirt, and truthfully I almost missed it.
“Hmm?”
“The stars. Tell me about them,” she repeated, pulling back a little to look at me again. I just smiled and nodded, taking her hand before helping her down to the floor with me, as gracefully as I could.
We lay down on our backs, fingers joined between us, gazing up at the domed ceiling and I started to talk about the constellations. I pointed them out to her, told her about the stories behind them and answered her questions, some of them genuinely surprising me at times.
“Not one of them is the same, is it?” she asked, looking over at me.
“No, they’re all unique,” I told her, meeting her eyes and giving her hand a soft squeeze.
I didn’t know how long we laid there, but I knew I could stay there with her forever. This evening had gone better than I ever could have hoped for.
And I also knew that I couldn’t hope to suppress my feelings for her anymore. I’d known she’d unlocked something the night we’d met, but now, as cliche as it sounded, I was willing to give her the key to my heart. I wanted to know what else she could make me feel just by spending time in her company.
She was making me a better man.
We could just make out a clock chiming eleven outside and decided that it was time to leave, however much neither of us wanted to. But we did need to get back to Star City after all.
I was afraid I would fall asleep on the way back to the hotel. I’d spent every minute of today planning and organizing this night for (Y/N) to go off without a hitch. I blinked my eyes to keep myself awake, but mostly for the sole purpose of revelling in her holding onto me in the back of the car as we left the airfield and made our way back towards uptown Star City.
I rested my cheek on the top of her head and brought our joined hands up to kiss the back of hers.
I had to tell her.
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amvixy · 5 years
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Falling In Love
So I wrote this not long ago and felt like I needed to post it. It’s not fanfiction or one of my other stories I write. Just a random story I came up with. The way I wrote this is not the typical way I write either, but it was something I wanted to try. I’m not proud of it and it’s not the prettiest, but it is finished. So I hope someone enjoys it and I’ll have a link to it on my Wattpad account.
[ ❣ Warning ❣ Sensitive topic(s): Death]
~~~~~~~
All he saw was the radiant glow of amber that haloed around the freckled porcelain face of the elegant woman before him. It never seemed to matter how many times he had seem that gorgeous sight, she still had the magic to take his breath away.
He still could remember the day he first saw her; standing 30 ft in the air on nothing but a silk stretch of rope, walking along with all the grace and balance of an angel. He could tell from the way she moved the many hours of practice and discipline she would pour into her routine, every motion of muscle moving like the fluidity of water. She was flawless, sensual, and captivating. He knew from that moment, this divine creature would change his life.
After her performance, he made a point to interact with her as much as possible. Looking back on it now, he must have looked like a crazed fan that would have been considered too creepy to ever allow to be in her presence ever again. Yet, she smiled warmly, opening herself to his company. She never once turned him away, all the while smiling and laughing with her attention fully on him.
From there, everything had seemed to be like a miraculous dream. He managed to get a job in the circus to be with her, their friendship blossoming into a passionate romance that could shame even the most moving authors of past. She was the fire that fueled his life and he became her sanctuary.
The love in their eyes never faltered even as he stood in their shared trailer, watching her add the finishing touches to her ensemble. The brilliant shine of her hair being held up by various waves of gold ribbon was such a marvel to follow with his eyes. He trailed back over her tight, sleek fabric suit of patterned splashes of pink and gold, standing out with her black net stockings. She was alluring and it quickened his heart to know only he would ever have the right to see and touch the subtle skin that hid underneath it all. He truly was blessed to have someone so magnificent in his life.
She turned to look at him with those gentle eyes, so crystal clear to him that he could see the joy, kindness, and mischievous look that made up the charming woman he had fallen so hard for. The cherry color that stained her lips pulled into the radiant smile that could melt even the coldest of heart and had his skin prickling as a shiver of delight ran down his back. She was his everything.
And after tonight, he could only hope that she would agree to be his forever...
The show had long begun at the amphitheater that the circus was renting from, the metal bleachers filled to max capacity with excited viewers from the young to the old. The next act was about to begin and he stood just off to the side of the amphitheater, taking a break from his work as he leaned on the handle of his rake. Not even the foul smell of the animal pins that surrounded him could keep his smile from wavering. The next act was the aerial silk act- her special dance she choreographed with him in mind.
Even at a distance, he could still recognize the striking glow of her soft locks as the spotlight lit up her figure from the ground floor. She danced for the audience as the unique melody of a violin and the bells of a music box played in the background. He mused over the thought that she was like the ballerina in the box, springing to life and coming out for all the world to see her beauty.
She danced her way toward the two strands of red ribbons that hung from the metal rafters placed above the stage. She draped them over her like a crimson waterfall of silk before wrapping her long, slender leg around one and twisting the other in hand. She climbed up the makeshift ropes, showing off her lean, but powerful muscles as she towered up over 20 feet in the air. She used her performance skills, dexterity, and her own weight to twist herself in and around the thin ribbons.
Even though he had seen her practice for this new act time and time again, he still couldn't help but become so amazed at how natural she made it appear. The gasps and applauds from the audience were such an understatement to her grace and power as she danced above the world. It was like she was swimming in a tangle of red tentacles as they would wrap around her, holding her up as she twirled, flipped, and spun with them. The ends of the ribbons that dusted the floor just added to the mystique of her craft as they danced and twirled with her motions, creating such a magical atmosphere in her performance.
He studied how the ribbons held her body so tightly as she would twist them over her limbs and waist, tangling herself in the crimson waves of fabric. It reminded him much of how it felt to fall in love with her. From her beauty to her skills to her personality, all wrapping around his heart in such a strong, but warm embrace that lifted him much higher than he ever thought possible.
He could only smile as he subconsciously twirled the metal band that was in his pocket, a ring of gold and silver twisting around each other from both ends to hold up a fiery ruby at its center. He would give her the world if he could, but for now, this would be small promise of things to come should she agree to be his for the rest of their lives.
As the finale of her act was coming up, he watched as she dangled from one ribbon with one arm as the other twirled it's silk partner in a mesmerizing spin. She used her own dangling body to twirl with the ribbon before it was twirling around her delicate frame. She would twist and climb up more before using the other ribbon in her grasp to twist around her as well, practically tangling her from abdomen to thigh in the vibrant strands. She then let go and he felt his heart jump in his throat like it would each time he watched this part of the act. She would fall as the ribbons twirled her body with rapid speed toward the ground below.
But with a sudden jerk, the ribbons stopped her from falling half way down, dangling her in mid air in a butterfly pose as she showed the crowd her open arms with her head tilted back to see them.
The eruption of cheers and hands clapping was almost deafening even from where he stood as he sighed out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Truly, it was amazing act - her masterpiece.
Yet over the roar of the crowd, a small sound cut right through the cool air. It was just loud enough for him to hear and it came so quick, it would have almost been forgotten. But that cringing sound of a tear would forever be branded in his mind as he watched in horror as the taunt fabric at the top of one of the ribbons began to sag. It all happened so quickly, there was no time for anyone to react quickly enough.
He could only watch helplessly as the experienced woman's body was jolted from the sudden instability. The torn ribbon was now sagging so much there was nothing to support her as gravity continued to unravel her, twirling her too quickly toward the stage. He could see her throw her arms up frantically to grasp on to the still stable ribbon, but the smooth material only slipped from her clawing hands.
And then she screamed.
Thud
That was all that rang out even past the courtyards of the amphitheater after her scream. He had only managed to move two steps before hearing that horrid sound, freezing him in place as his eyes laid upon the broken figure of his love that was now sprawled so unnaturally on the stage. The deafening silence that had fallen over them all was quickly broken by random screams and cries that came from all directions. Yet he couldn't make a sound...he couldn't even move another step.
The chaos that was breaking out in the amphitheater bleachers seemed to only mirror what was going on in his head as his body began to quake. He gripped his chest as his heart stopped and jumped so randomly, burning him with such agony that brought him to his knees. His lungs were burning for air, but he didn't have the will to grant it. Vicious, stinging tears quickly swept over his eyes and even as they ran down his face, more came in to flood his vision. He was collapsing on himself, drowning in grieve that was stabbing every part of his being.
She was gone. How could this be? He didn't even have time...
Anger grew up from the pit of his stomach, almost as if he was going to be violently sick. He forced its way past the lump in his throat, boiling up in the heat of his rage as he finally screamed out. His grief and anger were in complete control of him now, jerking his body in spasms of sobs and small, but brutal punches he made into the ground.
It felt like his soul was ripped from him so savagely, like skin from muscle. The pain...it was too much to endure. It was so unbelievable that his beautiful dream was so quickly turned into a hideous nightmare. He looked back up to still see her broken body, but the circus owners and paramedics were slowly surrounding her now, hiding her from the mortified audience. He clawed at the ground beneath him, trying at his best to make his way to her.
He had to hold her one more time.
Kiss her face just one more time.
One more time.
That's all he was asking - begging for.
Just one more time.
What he would give for just...
One.
More.
Time.
https://www.wattpad.com/user/amvixy
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Day Six: The Nutcracker
“I go on date with you, daddy?” Grace asks as she helps him set the table for dinner.
“Yes, bug. After we have dinner.”
“Jus’ you n’ me?  No mum?”
“No. Just you and me. Gonna have a special night together.”
“Where we goin’?” She asks with wonder in her eyes.
“The Nutcracker Ballet.” He says, watching her eyes sparkle with happiness.
“Ballet like me! I a ballerina too!” Grace squeals.
“Yes you are. The most beautiful ballerina I have even seen.” He kisses the top of her head.
After dinner you help Grace put on her new champagne dress you bought for this special occasion. The top has a lace overlay, the satin skirt slightly fans out, and a sparkly belt wraps around her middle. Her shoes: a sparkly champagne color with big bows by her toes. You place  a necklace with a small heart around Grace’s neck: the necklace Harry gave you for your first anniversary. Tonight is a very special night, and you want Grace to feel it’s importance.
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“You look beautiful Grace!” You fix a curl that is going astray. “I think daddy is ready to go. Should we go find him?”
“Wait! My purse!” Grace runs over to your bed, picking up her purse. You raise your eyebrows with curiosity as you see her gracefully run into the bathroom. After a brief second she comes out of the bathroom. “I ready now.”
You follow your daughter out of your bedroom where she pauses at the top of the stairs. Harry is waiting in the foyer, his back turned, but you can see him holding a small bouquet of flowers for his date.
“I all ready daddy!” She says loud enough for Harry to hear. Harry turns around to face the stairs. He lets out a small gasp sincerely.
“Grace, you look gorgeous.” Harry walks towards the stairs as his daughter begins to take elegant steps one foot at a time.
“You too.” She replies. You know Grace really doesn’t know what she is saying, but Grace isn’t wrong. Harry looks breathtaking in his navy blue trousers fit just right against his legs,  and his double breasted suit jacket sits over the top of a champagne button up shirt that matches Grace’s dress. His hair is tousled just right, the ends slightly curling. You never understand how your husband can look so flawless when it is so effortless for him.
Harry holds out his hand to help Grace down from the last step.
“These are for you!” Harry hands Grace the bouquet of flowers. She takes the flowers from her father. Bringing them up to her nose, she takes a deep breath in, smelling the colorful arrangement of pink roses.
“Smell so good!” She says with a sigh.
“How about I put these in water for you Bug. Then we can enjoy them for a while.” You say. Grace hands you the flowers. “Have fun with Daddy tonight! I love you!” You lean down and give her a kiss.
“Let’s go! I got lipstick!” Grace says holding up her purse to show she had placed her sparkly pink lip gloss in her purse.
“Always need to be prepared.” Harry chuckled at his daughter. “I love you babe; don’t have too much fun without us.” He kisses your lips, then walks to the coat rack, helping Grace put on her winter coat.
“Have fun.” You open up the front door for Harry and his very cute date. You wave them off as they walk to the driver waiting in the driveway.
The drive to their destination is filled with Grace telling Harry all about her day. Harry enjoys listening to his daughter talk about the tea parties she has with Bob and friends, or about the story she reads, and the picture she painted that is now on the fridge.
The car comes to a stop in front of the Royal Opera House. The door opens and Harry exits the car, helping Grace out of her car seat and down from the SUV. Grace reaches up and grabs Harry’s hand tightly, causing Harry to smile. Standing in front of the Opera House, Grace looks up at the building.
“I so excited!!” Grace’s body wiggles with excitement.
“Me too Bug! Let’s go in and find our seats.” Harry walks forward, taking Grace into the theater.
Harry takes Grace to the lift, going up 2 floors. The lift door opens with a soft ping. Harry and Grace exit through the doors as an usher greets them. Harry hands the tickets to the gentleman who leads them to their private box. Harry wanted this night to be just about him and Grace. He didn’t want people bugging them, so he felt a box was a necessity.
“Wow!’ Grace says as she walks into the box. Harry asked the usher to bring a booster seat for Grace so she could see the stage clearly. The usher brings in the booster and sets it on her seat. Harry helps Grace  up into her booster. “Look daddy! Snowflakes!’ She points towards the curtain in front of the stage that has snowflakes dancing across the fabric.
“So pretty!” Harry comments, sitting down next to Grace, handing her a program. Harry is excited to watch the Royal Ballet perform the Christmas classic, but he is more excited to watch his daughter experience it for the first time.
The Orchestra begins to warm up their instruments, causing Grace to look over the railing to see where the noise is coming from. Soon the lights dim and the snowflakes begin to slow their dance.
The beautiful overture begins to play. Grace sits back her seat, her fingers tap her thighs with anxiousness as she waits for the music to end and the curtain to rise.  She claps her hands along with the crowd as the show opens with a man and his son dancing on stage with a lantern.
The smile on Grace’s face is so bright the ballerinas on stage can probably see it. Harry reaches over and holds her hand. He feels her body wiggle a little, and looking down at her feet, he watches as they dance along to the music.
“That the nutcracker daddy?” She looks over at Harry, her eyes wide as Drosselmeyer gracefully hands the soldier to Clara. Harry nods the universal sign for yes, Grace’s head whips back to the stage, her eyes glued.
She covers her eyes when the Mouse King arrives with his army, fearing for the Nutcracker’s life. She giggles as Mother Ginger and her Bon Bons come out on stage to cause troubles She sways as the snowflakes dance together, loving every second of the show.
The snow King and Queen take the stage. Grace’s eyes are wide, gasping as the King lifts his Queen above his head. Grace keeps her eyes glued to the stage, tapping her father lightly on the knee. Harry leans in close to Grace.
“Daddy, I do that, I grow up!” She whispers,
“You can be whatever you want to be Bug!” Harry says with full support of her wishes and dreams.
The show comes to an end, both Harry and Grace clap until their hands hurt. Harry guides Grace out of the box, down the lift, out of the Opera House, and into the driver car. He buckles his daughter into her car seat.r Reaching over to get his seat belt, he hears Grace yawn.
“I like dates!” She says as she finishes her yawn.
“I like dates with you Gracie Bug!” Harry looks up from clicking his seat belt into the buckle, Grace has her eyes closed, exhausted from her night out. Her eyelashes rest long and beautifully against her cheeks, her pink sparkly lips part a tiny bit as a small wheeze escapes just like her mum when she is asleep. Harry smiles, imprinting the image of his beautiful ballerina in his mind.
The drive isn’t too long, Harry watches out the window at the beautiful city of London, all dressed up for Christmas. The driver pulls up to the gate, he punches in the code and pulls into the driveway, stopping in front of the door.
Harry thanks the driver, and he gets out of the car, walking over to the other side. He opens the car door, unbuckling Grace from her car seat. Pulling Grace into his arms, he listens as she begins to make small noises and wiggles as she slightly wakes.
“Close your eyes Gracie. Dream of being the Snow Queen.” He says, bringing one of his hands up to touch her head. Grace relaxes, falling asleep in his arms. He takes her into the house, laying her on her bed, attempting to get her dressed as her limp body refuses to work with him. Finally he gets her dressed in her nightgown, and tucks her into bed. Laying Bob next to her pillow, he leans down giving Grace a kiss.
“You can accomplish anything you want. Dream big, love! I will always love you!” Kissing her one last time, he lets his little ballerina dream of becoming something great someday.
A/N: A huge thank you to @whoopsharrystyles. She is truly such an amazing beta/first reader and muse. I hope everyone has a chance to have someone like Dawn in their life. I know I am extremely lucky to have her. Check out The Adventures of Harry and Grace masterlist and my Wattpad page! Thank you for reading, liking, reblogging and recommending. The asks you send make me smile so big! Thank you for all the love. Happy Holidays!!
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cgpsimpromptu-blog · 7 years
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Latent Memory
By Ben Togut
The ballerina in the box pirouettes to the soundtrack of latent memory; that is, the music of nothing at all or the hush of everything that was, you choose. There had never been anyone so perfectly plastic, elegantly unalive. Every day, from behind the store window, passersby would covet her privileges. One, to dance ignorantly unaware of being observed. Two, to be able to dance for hours on end without her face flush or mascara staining her cheeks. She is the object that teenage girls aspire to-- thin, pristine, and sparkling. No wonder they turned to juice cleanses and Soul Cycle; no wonder they craved better skin, perfect noses, and flawless stick figure limbs, and would go to extremes to achieve the unattainable. But the ballerina in the box dances on with her cheap parts-- fake hair, fake legs, fake smile-- into the recesses of latent memory, pulled taut like a rubber band and slingshot into oblivion.
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