babrace au: black swan ((((:
AU Meme || @sparklingdiamant
i. She hadn’t expected to be cast as the lead, it was her name up there on the list. The biggest role she’d ever danced, the role that had made her fall in love with ballet as a little girl, and now it was hers. The pressure was intense—especially given how young she was. Some of the other dancers were whispering that she must be doing something for the director behind closed doors. Others were saying that her rich father had paid for her to have the part. But she tried not to listen, blocking them out. She was going to do this. She was going to be perfect.
ii. Dancing the part of the white swan is what she was born to do. She can be pure and innocent and enticing in a way that hinged on softness. “The prince wants to protect you. You inspire him to want to possess you. He becomes enchanted with the delicate push and pull, and falls wildly in love with you.” The direction makes sense, in some part of her mind. Then she looks up and sees the other star watching her, sees the amused look in her eyes, and it all feels so much more complicated.
iii. It’s a bold choice, to cast two different dancers for Odette and Odile, but it’s not unheard of. The bolder choice is to cast two very different dancers, one blonde and glamorous, the other dark-haired and delicate. The boldest choice is to rework the scenes and put them both on stage at the same time, interacting with each other in a more direct struggle for the prince’s affections, and for dominance over each other. “You’re a power play, the two sides of what society sees women as. Odette, as the movement goes on, you start to lose some of that purity, to become more like Odile in an attempt to defeat her, but that’s the moment it’s clear that she will be triumphant.” He looks between the two of them, nodding. “Work on this. Spend time together. This has never been done before, my little doves, and we’re creating something together. Work with it and see where it takes you.”
iv. “I don’t think this is what he meant.” Her voice is breathless, gasping for air. Babette has one hand underneath her tights, the other in her hair, pulling her head back so she can bite at her neck. “I think this is exactly what he meant,” she murmurs, her teeth sharp against Grace’s skin. (It’s going to leave marks, she’s going to have a bruise, why does she want that so much). Before long she’s gasping and begging for more, her hips moving against Babette’s hand. “See?” she says, her voice a combination of laughter and lust. “There’s passion under that pristine exterior. I just need to tease it out.”
v. It becomes a habit. The director praises the dynamic that they achieve on stage, and they “practice” it backstage. Even when she’s not at the theater, it’s all she can think about, images flashing in her mind as she lies in her bed. (Babett’s slender fingers around her neck, pressing her against the mirrors; Babette with her head thrown back, tugging on her hair as Grace buries her tongue between her thighs; Babette teasing her as she begs, telling her to hold off, to be a good girl for her, driving her pleasure higher and higher before finally telling her to cum for her; Babette lying next to her, whispering praises as they both sank into each other, wrung out from passion). She wasn’t sure what this was, or what it meant, but she knew she felt alive two places now: under the stage lights and under her costar.
(vi. Opening night comes faster than expected. She’s standing backstage, in her pure white costume, when she sees Babette coming towards her, a vision as the Black Swan. “You’re going to be perfect,” she says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “And you’re going to come to my bed after the curtain falls.”)
