Slave to DeathI'm tired of hiding,Slave to Death2 weeks ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
But too weak to fight;
The problem with darkness
Is you can't see the light.
I'd love and I'd live
If I only knew how.
But bad habits have grown
And it's too late by now.
So cry out, scream,
And flee from the shadows--
Nothing can save you
From the blood-scented gallows.
AC:NL-S Episode 13: The Rather Dangerous BetAC:NL-S Episode 13: The Rather Dangerous Bet2 weeks ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
It was another ordinary day in the area, with the autumn scenery changing each day, as more and more leaves fell off the trees in preparation for winter. The usual hustle and bustle occurred in the town, which included the 4 trains an hour passing through the town. On one train, however, had a red-haired girl with brown eyes, who appeared to have the resemblance of a character from the first Hunger Games book, with the same colour hair as the said character, only this girl did not give off the vibe of a fox, as she was in no way sly, but she had a level of cunning. When the train stopped at Rota, she got up from her seat and walked towards the train door, and disembarked. She left the station, muttering “So Elizabeth-Marie is here now”, with an evil look on her face.
“Alrighty then, good job everybody on preparing for winter by helping us rake those leaves, so they can be used as a source to restore all of the nutrients in the ground. We’re only required to
Life is an arena chapter 24Chapter 24 JealousyLife is an arena chapter 242 weeks ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Why they didn’t ask Death Dancer to marry them yet?
Well, that was… unexpected.
Death Blade cleared his throat and Skyler blushed, a hand over the chest where he hid the ring he had for her. Death Blade shyly said: "I love you Didì... but since we are three, this is a… bit ‘unusual’ situation. We should talk about a possible sparkbond, before talking of a marriage."
Death Dancer bit her lower lip and commented: "I would like to bound with both of you, guys… if Skyler too is agree, sure." She added, since the wolf didn’t say a word.
The wolf hugged her and then fiddled awkwardly with the hiding place until he found the ring. He showed her the shining jewel.
Death Dancer looked surprised at Skyler's servo. "Oh Primus!"
Death Blade instead blushed embarrassed because he didn't buy gold bands yet for her.
“A sparkbond among three is extremely dangerous.”
The femme smiled at the wolf. "I just want to be with
Masked Dancer- ArminXThug!Reader- PrologueArmin, Eren and Mikasa (A/N Did not put Armin there first because I like him most, or cause he is the main character here. I put him first because of the alphabet) walked around the markets getting whatever was on the list they were given. It was a peaceful day, birds chirping, clear blue sky. What could go wrong?Masked Dancer- ArminXThug!Reader- Prologue2 weeks ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Little did they know, their day was going to get changed by a small thug. You. You were either called the Masked Mystery or Masked dancer. Either way, the word masked made it into your title. You wore a mask so no one could recognize you. Mystery came out of the identity part. Dancer, the way you moved, quickly but elegantly. But the worse part about the thug life you ask? Everyone thinks you're a guy. You aren't complaining though, I mean no one would suspect you. Anyways back to the story. You placed the leather mask on your face, hiding your true identity, F/N L/N, and became the one and only Masked Dancer. You ruffled up your short (A/N For the sake of the story, your hai
Time Travel RPTime traveling romance RPTime Travel RP2 weeks ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
You're a teenage boy, walking back to your house alone. In your backpack/pockets is some money, a history book, and a book on art/fighting/dark magic (hey, you never know XD)
Next thing you know, you pass out. When you wake up, you are...
A: In a village outside a castle
B: In a forest
C: In a village out in the country
WARNING: This RP is pretty much romance. It can have action and such, but mostly romance.
If you pick A: http://jojo419.deviantart.com/art/Maria-the-evil-queen-415791504
If you pick B: http://jojo419.deviantart.com/art/Rikita-the-Amazonian-warrior-415792109
If you pick C: http://jojo419.deviantart.com/art/Maya-the-lovely-dancer-415792680
1: Nothing, nothing, NOTHING above PG-13.
2: Please be descriptive.
3: I only do Boy/Girl romance
4: To make it more fun, don't look at the links until AFTER you pick a option. XD you won't know who you get until it's too late! XD
Maya the lovely dancerMaya the lovely dancer2 weeks ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Name: Dancer Maya
Middle name: Rose
Last Name: Rubystar
Romance life: boyXgirl
Personality: caring, loving, trusting, light hearted, truthful, naive
Occupation: Rich Dancer
RP's she is in: N/A
Angel DancerAngel Dancer3 weeks ago in Free Verse More Like This
Darkness has consumed me
My only chance to reach the light
Is by seeking the sea
Of broken unforgiving sight
My soul goes to the gate
You will always be my savoir
Don't try to change my fate
Never cry my sweet Exavoir
I may not last as long
But I am always in the sky
This is my one true song
You may remember me as shy
I know you want to cry
Spilling tears is not the answer
I feel as though I fly
Watching this angelic dancer
The BallerinaShe watches from backstage as her partner performs his variation. The stage lights seem to get brighter, and the space in the wings seem to close in. She can feel her heart beating faster. Her partner’s short solo seems to last an eternity. She flexes and points her feet as she waits. Finally the music stops. She closes her eyes. She can hear thunderous applause, but it sounds distant, like it’s coming from another world. She centers herself, preparing for the most important two minutes of her life: her first solo as prima ballerina. The applause seems to go on forever. She fears that she will always be overshadowed by her talented partner. She quickly quells that thought. The applause dies down, and she opens her eyes.The Ballerina3 weeks ago in Short Stories More Like This
Instantly her arms assume preparatory position and she points her right foot behind her. She takes a deep breath, and then she is gliding across the stage, her arms naturally floating through the port de bras, a delicate smile on her face. She s
The Harlot DancerShe dies the dancerThe Harlot Dancer3 weeks ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
She dies in her sleep
She weeps alone at night
Knowing that she will never fully grasp it
She was still years away from mastering her craft
And she still dances alone on stage each night
She will kill to never make her scene all the way through
But she will die alone and wish she was thin
She will see the lights
Flashing at the end of a tunnel
And run towards a safe place, her ageing nation
It will pass in the blink of an eye
Then she will come back to haunt
The white swan of her dreams, is becoming reality
The black one still has yet to give
She sees the faces staring full of rage
Yet she will carry on dancing until she is dead
This place, her space
She is dancing for her life to be great
Her mother wants to begin
But she gave it up because she had you
I am starving myself while on my tiptoes
Perfect balance is the key
The route to success is through becoming a harlot
It is all or nothing in this cruel cruel game
She is becoming the black swan of her dreams
The DancerYou break down the internal harmony,The Dancer3 weeks ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
She dances alone each night on the stage,
A dancer in the dark she is her,
She is herself wherever she may go,
"Chip away the ugliness and you will
find a person worth while drowned in their own happiness",
She will dance, she will cry,
But at this moment she will never die,
It is a crying shame to be the main star,
It is the same one as last time I swear,
I am taking over your parts for the stage,
But then I will break my mirror and then,
I will stab myself willingly, I will never know until my relief,
I thought it was you again back to haunt me,
Where is the blood from underneath the door?
Rejected and BrokenRejection is the only thing I’ve ever known;Rejected and Broken3 weeks ago in Free Verse More Like This
The one thing that always repeats.
I try to tell myself it isn’t so,
But reality my dreams it defeats.
I’ve tried to be accepted
But without conformation.
I’ve tried to dwell among
Without changing my being.
But all that happens is rejection;
Whether by accident or not.
Pushed away; driven away;
Leaving my broken feeling to rot.
Some say that they like me as a friend,
But your actions say this is not so.
Why don’t you spend time with me
If your words are of truth.
Maybe you just don’t want to hurt my feelings,
But believe me when I say this;
Your falseness hurts more than anything;
Stop it if the false is truth.
All I’ve ever wanted was friends;
A luxury I’ve never had.
Maybe you can never understand the ‘luxury side’
But that’s because you’ve always had.
All I’ve ever known is rejection;
By the majority of the world alike.
Maybe you do not understand my hurt
08 - Together08 - Together3 weeks ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
08 – Together?
Tresha stood before the door to Bourke’s bedroom, fingers pressing lightly upon the wooden panels. It had taken all of the morning and much of the afternoon to give the kitchen and dining room a thorough cleaning. And she had spent every moment telling herself that she was not avoiding the master suite; cleaning up after the dinner party was much more important. How much effort would it take to change a couple of sheets?
It had been a great shock to awaken in his bed. The memory of the night before came in fragments; pictures of silver moonlight and arguing felines and a rippling wave of emotion tearing at her heart. After everything she had said and done, and every promise she’d made to herself, she’d gone and let him have his roll. One night’s respite and a bottle of wine … she obviously couldn’t hold her liquor.
Neither could she blame the night’s outcome on drink alone. Hadn
Las BailarinasLas Bailarinas1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sometimes, I enjoy watching snowflakes fall. Sometimes,
they are raindrops that
directly descend to the ground. Sometimes,
they are dancers who
wear thin, white dresses that shine like silver
and weave through the air before landing
as gracefully as a snow leopard. Sometimes,
I wonder, what is their purpose?
Why do they blanket the ground with
a pure, white quilt? Does
this fulfill their fiery passion? Or do they even
have passion. Sometimes, the world thinks
too objectively. Sometimes,
I cannot bear the objectivity of society. They
cannot comprehend nonhuman emotions.
Their objectivity silently burns against all creatures
and objects until they submit into oppression.
Why can’t snowflakes have emotions?
Why can’t snowflakes be dancers?
The Body of a DancerShe moved with passion and grace.The Body of a Dancer1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
Left to right, side to side.
You could see the emotion in her face.
I loved to watch her move.
She loved it when I watched her groove.
And we both adored the night when we danced together with movements so swift and smooth.
I watched her work for hours.
The way she rolled her body made dancing seem like a super power.
Her curves seem to enhance her.
She had the body of a goddess...
No, she had the body of a dancer.
Ballerina on the stage of lifeBallerina on the stage of lifeBallerina on the stage of life1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am a
No , I do not know
as a piece
When the curtain
are closed, it is not
to a new
What some call
That is, a
prosper, create ties
and do not forget to dance.
Every life is a
Unique and wonderful
Bailarina no palco da vida
Eu sou uma
Não eu não sei
na verdade ,
é a vida .
com todos os
e piruetas .
Ela se desenvolve
como uma peça
de balé .
Mas , apesar
de tudo ,
tem que continuar .
que as cortinas
se fechem .
Quando as cortinas
se fecham , não é
o fim .
apenas se prepara
Misc The last stroke of her paint brush brushed the edge of her canvas. After months of emotional decay and days of painting she stepped back, dropped her paint brush onto the paint sheet below and simply said "hmmm". Her paint stained hands grabbed a book off her shelf and stepped out her bedroom door. She closed and locked it, within five swift steps she was at the top of the glass stair case, "hey look! she finally veers her head after.. What? Days of hiding out in her room?" Lucas called from breakfast counter. Kirby beside him let out a choke and went back to drinking his coffee, Dylan on the other hand was on his feet looking like he was about to say something but just stood there, in his usual blue sweater.Misc1 month ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
She ignored the three people in the kitchen, grabbed her keys, took off her slippers and slipped into her converse. As she opened the door she stopped to listen to what Kirby had to say; nothing. Though he didn't have anything to say, she knew he was thin
Dancers within the Lonesome HourWhen I looked into your eyesDancers within the Lonesome Hour1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
I saw fear, hunger and desire
As we danced in the lonesome hour
You look away, shaking without control
What is it of that you are afraid?
If only determinations were easily made
Carefully, I lean against you
Reaching out with my hand
Hoping to touch the shadow to comprehend
But we remain as silhouettes
When we begin our waltz tonight
Black and white.
Twisting and twirling, our bodies intertwine
As our lips gain the color of fine wine
We chase each others hearts and hues
Creating pictures with our words
And rainbows in the music heard
No longer dancing to dancer
But to human.
As we sway to the midnight charm
You held me in your arms
With the both of us to never see the world again.
Only in darkness shall we begin
To find our kin of light anew
In our dance within the lonesome hour.
The Artist's SoulA drug no less addictive than Ecstasy,The Artist's Soul1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Cutting the remains of what once stood tall.
Leaving it's melodic mark, or what chaos it may prefer.
Try as they might, this movement can't be taught.
It's first a dance of ebony chemistry,
Forcing the choreographer to bitterly recall,
The emotions of memories that once dearly were.
Leaving despair to those who tried to pass the ghat.
And after dark has been added to the pale murderee;
hit by a new stained wave, the dancers fall.
remaining mute is consumed by vivid blur,
Sometimes leaving the piece of godly soul bought.
GardensSongs watering the mind like a thirsty gardenGardens1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
Albums evoking stories and scenes
Memories sprouting through the dirt of consciousness
Despite weeding and pruning as we do
Just a simple melody nourishes green shoots
Feelings long forgotten in the ground
Reaching up towards the sun
How replaying an album causes though to blossom
Flowering in the minds eye, blurring reality
Intoxicating the gardener in exotic sights and smells
Hello, Sun DancerHere is a pile of rubbish. Let me tell you a story about that pile. What is the pile of rubbish? Am I to speak about the book or the author of the book; the humans or the trash? Isn’t interesting to think that all garbage came from our stupid species? Nothing nature created was rubbish. Nature is beautiful, free and fierce. It fills you with warmth and tears you apart, sometimes literally.Hello, Sun Dancer1 month ago in Emotional More Like This
We are the authors of this trash. We wrote this trash into the world. Trash leaves its mark, as do words. However, it is probably unfair for me to compare something so ugly to something so beautiful. It could be argued that trash can be beautiful. All the same, it will die away.
Look at nature; so beautiful. A majestic wildebeest dies. Through it’s lifetime it swallowed the deer that munched the leaves that drank the sun and the rain. The energy of the sun courses through us. We are one. We are connected. From dinosaurs’ remains, we rose. We fall apart. Our flesh feeds the flowers.