#i didn't even expect that i was just looking for those 'romeo and juliet' from the galaxy far far away - shen and rahasia

[dairine-bonnet]

In the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine:

Elise: Don't worry. I'm going to hug you and oil you and care for you and make sure you never get away over again.

C8-42: Please, kill me...

Canderous: Ha! I guess that droid is really going to serve his master tonight!

[serpentandlily]

Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader

Lost in a Labyrinth Part III - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine. 

Warnings: angst angst angst 

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Part III

and when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun. - William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The First Attempt

Poison was probably the easiest and cleanest way to kill somebody. It involved very little effort on your part, just a slip of the hand to pour the poison into their drink when they weren't looking. It usually didn't involve blood or puke unless you got one of the nastier poisons, which you never did anyways. Some of the girls were more sadistic though and well, you couldn't blame them for it. 

But while it was the simplest method of killing someone, it was probably one of the harder ones to pull off. First, faeries had very good senses, especially when it came to smell. One sniff of their drink could expose the poison in it, unless you were able to get your hands on one of the odorless ones. Those were more expensive though and Lydia and Keir certainly weren't willing to fund you guys besides your nightly rate from your clients. 

However, when you had made a trip to the apothecary in the underbelly of Hewn City, you had begrudgingly forked over the money for one of those clear, odorless poisons. There was no way anything else would get past Azriel and his shadows. 

Your heart ached in your chest as you stared at the decanter of whiskey sitting on the bar cart in your pleasure room. Azriel had been kind to you. He had offered you some mercy by buying out your nights and not returning until that fateful meeting at the party. And while he clearly liked being more dominant while bedding you, his touch had been gentle, soft. No one had ever shown you such care and here you were, plotting out his murder. 

But you simply had to do this. Freedom was only one dead body away for you. One more hit and you could finally wash your hands of this place, disappear to another court—perhaps one that would allow you to bathe in the sunlight for the rest of your days, something the citizens of Hewn City had never really experienced.

Kill Azriel.

Kill the shadowsinger and you'll be free to go. 

Those had been Keir's exact words. 

You had killed before. There was a time when your finger was covered in black lines, a new one added every time you didn't have enough money to pay the house fee or enough for food and had to borrow from Lydia. One every time you failed to perform for a client, no matter what they asked of you. But now you were down to one last mark. 

One for the Shadowsinger. 

One for Azriel. 

You let out a sigh, sitting down at your vanity to brush your hair. Azriel was due to show up any moment now. Ever since that night at the party, he had been coming by at this time every single night. He would buy out all the nights Lydia would allow him to before showing up. 

He never even made it seem like he expected sex on any given night. Sometimes the two of you would just cuddle in bed, whispering stories to each other about your lives. Sometimes he would come all tense and frustrated with whatever the High Lord had demanded of him. On those nights you would offer to give him a massage and listen to him complain about how much he hated his work. It seemed like the two of you had that in common, at the very least. 

You hadn't made any attempts yet. You told yourself it was because you were planning out the best way to kill Azriel. Poison, knives, strangling. There were a multitude of ways to do it. But you knew deep down what the true reason was. You had grown fond of the Shadowsinger. You didn't want to kill him.

But your wants and needs had never really ever agreed with each other your whole life. 

So here you were. Waiting for Azriel to come so you could poison him and be done with this Gods awful place. You wanted out of the labyrinth and unfortunately, this was the only way. 

No matter how much you liked Azriel, he was the one standing in the way of your freedom. 

You saw his shadows before him. They seeped underneath the door to your room like smoke. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of them before pure dread washed over you. 

Kill Azriel. 

Kill him. 

A gentle knock on your door was heard before it was pushed open and the Shadowsinger stepped through the threshold, his beautiful face illuminated by the candlelight. His hazel eyes searched the room until they landed on you and you watched as they lit up ever so slightly—the most emotion he would allow himself to show.

You set your brush down and stood to face him. Azriel stalked forward and by his body language alone, you knew the sort of mood he was in. You braced yourself on the vanity behind you as he came to a halt in front of you, tilting your head up to stare at his lethal and devastatingly beautiful face. 

He didn’t speak as he grabbed your face in his hands and kissed you with a frenzy that lit your body on fire. You returned the passion, stringing your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him. His presence washed over you like a tempestuous storm, all encompassing. You lost yourself in it—in him. 

You had never felt so taken by someone before. But being with Azriel was just so easy. He was a breath of fresh air in this otherwise suffocating labyrinth. 

He pulled away all too soon.

You opened your eyes, heart pounding in your chest. “What was that for?”

“I missed you,” he murmured, voice hoarse. 

You smiled up at him. “You saw me last night, silly.”

“And yet still I miss you the moment I leave.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck and your hands slid into his dark hair. He exhaled a breath that kissed the sensitive skin of your throat. 

You didn’t want to say it out loud, but you felt the same way. Every second apart from Azriel felt like a lifetime. You gently raked your nails over his scalp and you felt his body loosen in your hold, finally relaxing. 

Your eyes fell on the decanter of whiskey sitting on the bar cart. So unassuming. So ordinary. But it held your freedom. You swallowed harshly as Azriel pulled away from you

“Go sit,” you said to him, nudging him in the direction of the couch. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

You watched him take a seat as you moved over to the bar cart. You picked up a whiskey glass, not even realizing how much your hands were shaking until you did so. You quickly set it back down on the cart, taking a deep breath.

You could do this.

All you had to do was just pour him a drink. Just one drink. That’s all it would take. One drink and he’d be dead within the hour. He’d be dead and your bargain with Keir would be over. You would be free. 

“I need to make a trip back to Velaris before it gets too late.” Azriel’s voice caused you to jump, almost knocking over the whole cart. “I have to give my mission report to Rhys before the day is over.” 

“You mean you haven’t gone to see the High Lord before coming here?” 

“No,” Azriel answered. “I…I just wanted to see you first.”

Your heart snapped into a million pieces in your chest. You frowned, staring at the back of his head. You could hear the hesitation in his voice—could feel how much it had taken out of him to admit that. Azriel wasn’t very forthcoming, so to blatantly confess something like that…

Fuck, you couldn’t do this. Not like this. You couldn’t kill him like a Godsdamn coward. 

You grabbed the decanter and dropped it on the floor, watching it smash into a million pieces just like your heart had. The whiskey splattered on the ground, soaking into the carpet. Azriel whipped around at the noise, eyebrows high. 

You turned red and stuttered out, “Oops. I-It slipped right out of my hand.” 

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. You quickly looked away, your heart pounding in your chest. You had been minutes away from killing him. Tears lined your eyes as you knelt down to start picking up the glass shards. Azriel was at your side in a second, grasping your elbow and pulling you up off the ground. 

“Don’t touch it. You’ll cut yourself,” he murmured. “Let me take care of it.” 

His care, his concern, it only made you feel so much worse. You sucked in a breath of air, trying to blink away the tears.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, grasping your face with his scarred hands. He lightly stroked your cheeks with his thumb. “What’s wrong?” 

You stared up at him, into his devastating hazel eyes. “Why are you so kind to me?” Your voice cracked, your throat hoarse as you held back your cries. “I have done nothing to earn your care.” 

“Earn my care? Angel, you don’t have to do anything to earn my care. I care for you because…because,” Azriel paused for a moment, almost like he was debating something. “Because you allow me an escape from my duties—from my incredibly lonely life. When I’m with you, I don’t think about anything else. There is nothing you need to do for me. Just allowing me to see you—to be with you—that is enough.” 

“Azriel, I….” You wanted to tell him everything. Wanted to tell him about your bargain with Keir—about the steward’s demand that you kill him. But the words wouldn’t come out of your mouth. “I just wanted to help you relax and I’ve already messed it up. I’m sorry. Let me go down to the cellar to get another bottle—”

“I don’t need alcohol to relax. I just need you, angel.” 

You were speechless. So utterly speechless. Any words you might’ve said got caught in your throat. All you could do was stare up at him—up at this beautiful male who had shown you he was nothing like the reputation that followed him around. He was gentle, kind, and so much better than anyone you’d ever met in this wretched city. He deserved so much more than this, so much more than you. 

“Okay?” Azriel said, knocking you out of your thoughts. 

You nodded your head, swallowing down your cries. 

“Okay,” you murmured back. 

Tonight you’d give him what he wanted. It was the least you could do. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Azriel flew back to Velaris feeling lighter than he had in decades. It was probably irresponsible that he had gone to see his mate before giving his High Lord his mission report, but he had needed to see her. To feel her in his arms after the day he had in the Illyrian mountains. 

Tonight had been a blessing. She always took care of him like she knew exactly what he needed. And tonight he had just needed to hold her. She had talked him into a massage, her hands magic against his skin and muscles and then they had just laid together, talking about everything and nothing. 

He felt more rested than he would have if he had tried to go to sleep. He felt refreshed, buoyant—like he could take on anything that was thrown his way as long as he had his angel to return to. 

It was nearing six in the morning now and he knew Rhys would be awake, usually tending to Nyx while Feyre got some desperately needed rest. He landed with a small thud in front of the River House and quietly made his way inside. He paused as his shadows whispered to him that Rhys was waiting in his office—no babe in sight. 

When he opened the door to the office, Rhys was indeed waiting for him—arms crossed and his brows furrowed. Azriel quietly closed the door behind him, pulling out his report from the shadow realm and setting it on the desk in front of his High Lord. Rhys glanced down at it for a second before looking back at him. 

“Azriel,” Rhys said, “Where have you been all night? I’ve been trying to reach you but your mental shields were up.”

Azriel cleared his throat before answering. “I had a matter to attend to before I came here.” 

He kept his voice devoid of any emotion. He didn’t want anyone to find out about her yet—his angel. She was his for now. His secret, his love, his mate. 

Rhys raised an eyebrow at him, nostrils flaring. “Is this matter the reason why you smell of cheap perfume and aphrodisiacs?” 

Azriel shrugged, nonchalantly. “This matter is none of your business.” 

“Am I wrong to assume that your scent means that you’ve taken my advice?” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw twitched but he refrained from speaking in anger. “Everything you need to know about the mission is in that report,” he said, nodding towards the file on Rhys’s desk. “If that is all, I will take my leave.” 

Rhys frowned. “No, that is not all. Please, sit, Azriel. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” 

Azriel begrudgingly sat in the armchair in front of Rhys’s desk. All he wanted to do was go back to his apartment and get ready to see his angel again in a few hours. He’d once again bought out all her time slots, leaving her with no clients other than himself. Meanwhile, he tried every night to convince her to leave with him, to return with him to Velaris. But something was holding her back…or perhaps she didn’t feel for him the way he did for her. 

That was a depressing thought that he frequently lingered on. 

“What is it?” Azriel asked, wanting to get this conversation over with. 

Rhys rubbed his jaw, his striking violet eyes assessing Azriel. “I’ve been meaning to apologize for the way I spoke to you on Solstice Night. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t angry when I saw you and Elain together, so ready to make your…affections known in plain sight—especially when she has yet to reject the bond with Lucien. But I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.” 

Azriel tensed in his chair at the memory of that night—at the cruel words Rhys had thrown his way. But unlike before, no hurt came from the memory. No hurt, no longing, no despair. Nothing. Instead, where that hole had been in his chest before was now filled with thoughts and longing for his angel…his sweet mate. 

“It’s fine,” Azriel replied, stiffly. “You did the right thing. It would have been a political nightmare had Lucien seen us.” 

Rhys nodded. “It would’ve. Especially with how many ties he has to other courts—other courts we’re still trying to repair our reputation with. But I treated you like one of my subjects that night and not like a friend. It wasn’t just Lucien I was thinking of, but you too, Azriel. I don’t want to see you hurt if you give your all to Elain and she decides to pursue the bond further down in the line.” 

“It wasn’t your choice to make. It was mine,” Azriel can’t help but say. To his surprise, Rhys nodded his agreement.

“You're right. It is not my choice nor is it my life to live,” Rhys said. “Which is why I’ve decided to rescind my orders for you to stay away from her. I just ask that if you two do pursue something together, please use discretion—especially when Lucien is around. At least until she fully rejects the bond or tells him of her own affairs. Is that reasonable enough?” 

Azriel stood from his seat. “I appreciate the apology, Rhys. But everything else is not needed. I have no plans to pursue Elain or court her. Is that all?” 

Rhys stood as well, his jaw flexing. “So I was right, then? You were willing to throw away our relations with other courts for a female you have no interest in months later? Azriel, I can’t even speak to how irresponsible that would’ve been.” 

“Well, nothing happened. You intervened at the right moment,” Azriel said, coldly. 

Rhys studied him again. “No, that isn’t like you, Az. Something else has happened. Does this have anything to do with that female you had hanging off you in Hewn City? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with a prostitute of all people now.” 

Anger striked through Azriel like lightning. 

“Watch how you speak about her,” he snarled, hands flexing. 

Rhys gaped at him with a disbelieving look. “Godsdamnit, Azriel. Are you that desperate for love that you have truly fallen for someone you’re paying to be in your company?”

“If you are truly my brother,” Azriel growled. “If you truly have my best interest in mind, then you will drop this now. I don’t need your advice or your concern.” 

“Of course I have your best interests in mind! But, Azriel, this is lunacy. I don’t know what that female has told you, but she only cares for your money. If you had any sense, you’d put a stop to this—”

Azriel lunged forward, slamming his hands on Rhys’s desk, shadows spiraling around him. 

“I said,” he snapped, bearing his teeth, his voice as cold as ice. “Watch how you speak about her.” 

Rhys’s mouth dropped open in shock and before he could say anything else, Azriel disappeared in a flurry of shadows. He needed to leave, far too tempted to rearrange Rhys’s face with his fists. So he let his shadows take him somewhere else he knew he could let off steam—the training ring.

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The Second Attempt 

Azriel was laying next to you, fast asleep. Even his shadows had rescinded to the dark corners of the room, content to leave their master in your hands. The hands that were currently holding a dagger, shaking as you straddled his sleeping body. 

Why was this so hard?

You had killed plenty of males like this before. 

But as you stared down at Azriel’s beautifully peaceful face, something ached terribly in your chest. He looked so much more boyish when he slept. His dark hair tousled, his large wings relaxed, the harsh lines of his face smoothed out. 

The room was dark except for the singular candle on your nightstand, half illuminating his handsome face. He was nude from the waist up, his swirling Illyrian tattoos on display—tattoos you often traced over as the two of you laid in bed together. 

It had taken a while for Azriel to actually fall asleep in your presence. The first few times he had spent the night, you had woken up to him holding you in his arms, staring at you as though you were his entire world—like nothing else mattered in that moment but you. It had caused your heart to flutter and ache. 

But now here he was, asleep. A sign that he trusted you now. Trusted that he could sleep and not have to be vigilant. And he looked so vulnerable like this. Gentle and soft. Nowhere was the usual foreboding and threatening aura that followed him around.

So vulnerable. 

So unassuming.

So clueless that you were currently straddling him with a dagger held above your head, ready to strike. 

You blinked as you felt watchful eyes on you, freezing. His shadows had meandered out of the dark recesses of the room, slowly crawling your way—like they were giving you the opportunity to stop this yourself before they intervened.

You let out a deep breath and lowered your arms. 

Poisoning him had been a coward’s move and so was killing him in his slumber. If his shadows had any sense, they’d strangle you right here and now. You fell off of him, laying back down at his side. The shadows rescinded, the threat gone in their eyes. 

But as long as your freedom was dependent on Azriel’s life, he would always be in danger around you. No matter how much you wished to not hurt him. No matter what you felt for him. 

Azriel had to die. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Azriel had never felt happiness like this before you. Not truly. He hadn’t even known it, hadn’t known that this was something he could feel. But here he was, his heart full and his mind at peace. There was only one thing that could make this better than it was.

He ghosted his scarred fingers over your bare back, lightly touching your soft skin. You were laying on your stomach next to him, nude except for the silk sheets pulled to your waist. 

His lips twitched as you let out a tiny noise of satisfaction at his touch, turning your head on your folded hands so you could stare up at him. 

He would never tire of staring at you—at your beautiful, serene face. Your alias made perfect sense. Serenity. That was what you made him feel. Though he felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of how many other males might’ve felt like this around you. 

The only solace he had now was making sure that you were his from now on. He didn’t care how much money he had to spend to keep you occupied with him. So long as it meant you’d be his angel and no one else’s. 

You smiled up at him and the sight was so breathtaking, he lost his train of thought. 

“What are you thinking about?” You asked in that sweet voice that melted his ice cold heart. 

“You,” Azriel replied, honestly. 

You scrunched your nose at him, your smile growing. He trailed a finger down the slope of it, watching your eyes flutter at his soft touch. 

“That’s what you always say.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s the truth.” 

“You're sweet,” you teased, making him chuckle.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever described me as sweet, Angel.”

It was your turn to shrug a shoulder. “You’re sweet to me.” 

“You’re special,” he said, so genuinely that it made your heart skip a beat. 

“Am I?” 

“Yes,” he said, brushing your hair off your back and over your shoulder. “Of course you are.” 

You closed your eyes with a hum, content as he began to trace lines down your back again. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

Your eyes flew open, brows furrowing. You gave him a small nod, curiously. 

“Do you…” he trailed off for a second, his voice lacking the sureness it had a moment ago. “Do you…feel this—this thing between us the way I do?”

“Azriel,” you warned, making his hand pause on your back. This was a topic you tried to stray away from with clients. You weren’t supposed to develop true feelings for any of them and you hadn’t. Not until…

“I know, I know,” he said quickly. “I understand your line of work. But I…I can’t help what I feel, Angel. Tell me you feel it too.” 

You frowned, a nasty feeling coiling in your gut. It should be easy to say no. But that wouldn’t be the truth, would it? No, the truth was you did feel it—that fiery energy between the two of you. Azriel was different. He didn’t feel like a client. He called you by your real name, knew personal details about your life. All things you had shared for some unknown reason. 

All you knew was that you had wanted to share those things with him so you did. You wanted Azriel in a way you’d never wanted anyone else. You wanted to know him, craved his presence when he was gone, loved being with him like this. 

The line between the two of you was so blurred, you weren’t sure it had ever existed in the first place. 

You looked back up at him, your eyes conveying the things you couldn’t yet say out loud. Because you couldn’t let yourself feel like this. 

But Azriel stared back at you, knowingly, like he could read everything you had spelled out in your mind. “You don’t have to say it, Angel. I just need to know.” 

You rolled onto your back, letting out a sigh. “Azriel, we can’t—”

“Why not?” He cut in. “Why not, Angel? If you…if you feel something for me then please, take me up on my offer. Let me take you to Velaris. You don’t even have to live with me. I can buy you your own apartment and anything you need. You’d never have to work again. I could take care of you, Angel, the way you deserve to be taken care of.” 

And what a life that would be. Free of this place, of this gods awful city. Free to live with Azriel. Free to do as you please. Free to bask under the sun, to see the stars in all their glory—no longer buried under this mountain. 

But it wasn’t possible. It was a dream and only a dream. So long as that mark was still on your finger, this was all you could offer him before he’d meet his demise. 

“Azriel, I can’t,” you murmured. “You know this.” 

“But why? Whatever reason or worry you have, tell me. I can’t stand leaving you here day and night. I can’t stand the thought of another having you.”

You rose from the bed, hiding your face from his sight so he didn’t see the tears lining your eyes. You quickly shrugged on a night gown, hugging yourself as you lingered by your dresser. 

You didn’t want to talk about this. You didn’t want to confront this head on. You couldn’t. Just like your other dreams, it would never come true for you. 

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew he had pushed too far but he couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry. I’ll drop it just please come back to bed.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. You should kick him out, send him home. You should tell him to never come back even if it meant you’d be stuck in this place forever without his death on your hands. 

“Please,” he whispered. “Come back.” 

The pure desperation in his voice had you folding. You laid back down next to him, let him take you in his strong arms once again. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The Third Attempt

It had taken at least twenty minutes for you to lug Azriel off the bed and into the chair that you dragged into the center of the room. The faebane laced sleep draught had done its part in this scheme. Azriel had been knocked out, his shadows nowhere to be seen. 

And now you were tying him to the chair with some strong rope, in knots you knew he wouldn't be able to undo. 

Another week had gone by with no attempts on his life due in part to your growing feelings for the shadowsinger. But a visit from Keir had you snapping out of whatever hold Azriel had on you. You needed to do this. You needed to kill him and put an end to this. It wasn't fair, it was never going to be fair but it had to happen.

Out of all the males you had killed, you knew this was the only one that would linger with you for the rest of your life. But it was a necessary sacrifice if it meant you could not only leave this awful city but this Labyrinth too. 

You decided you weren't going to be a coward about this. Azriel deserved to be looked in the eyes as you killed him, otherwise the shame might just eat you alive. It would be so much easier to just try and poison him again but you knew this was the only way it would get done. Maybe you could explain it to him, maybe he would understand. 

Hell, part of you was hoping he'd fight his way from the binds and end your life himself. Would that be a better outcome to this mess? 

You were still debating that.

For now you leaned against the wall, fiddling with your dagger as you waited for him to wake up. You had spent all last night making sure he was happy—content. You had given him everything. Your body, your heart, your mind. It would be your last gift to him. 

But your freedom was hanging in the air between the two of you and that far outweighed anything else. You had been lost in this labyrinth for far too long. It was time for you to finally find your way out. Unfortunately, your way out was through th—killing the one male who had made you feel things you'd never thought you would.

"A-Angel?"

Azriel's hoarse voice made you stand up straight, your gaze falling on him tied to the chair. He blinked a few times, still a bit drowsy from the draught. You watched as he slowly realized his predicament, that he was tied up and without his shadows. He yanked at the binds that had his arms held behind his back, strung up to the chair. 

"Angel," he repeated, finally catching sight of you, "What...what is this? Why...why am I tied up?" 

You stalked forward and he noticed the dagger you held in your hand. His eyes went wide with alarm and he stared up at you in disbelief. He tried to yank himself free again, making the wood of the chair groan. 

“What are you doing?”

“I didn’t want to do this,” you started with a sigh. 

Azriel stopped his struggling, raising an eyebrow at you. “Do what?”

“Kill you,” you said, bluntly. 

Azriel was silent for a moment before he burst into laughter. Your brows furrowed in confusion at his reaction. Normally this was when males started demanding you untie them or pleading for their lives depending on how much pride they had. 

“What’s so funny?” You snapped, taking a step closer to him. 

Azriel shook his head, his laughter fading. “You’re not going to kill me.” 

You frowned. “I am. I have to.” 

Azriel leaned back in the chair, his wings held out proudly. He had completely ceased his struggling, all the alarm gone from his eyes. “And pray tell, Angel, why do you have to kill me?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” you answered quickly, trying to regain your composure. “Not to you anyways.” 

“Well, seeing as I am the one about to die,” Azriel remarked, so nonchalantly, “then I think it does matter.”

He smirked at you, furthering your confusion. Why was he acting so…so calm?! You narrowed your eyes at him, closing the distance between the two of you.

“Why are you smiling?” You huffed, fisting his hair and pulling his head back to expose his throat. You pressed the dagger against his pulse point. 

“It’s cute that you think you’re in control here,” he shrugged, that smile not leaving his face. 

“I am in control here,” you snapped. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re the one tied up!”

“Am I?” He drawled out before yanking at the binds again. “Ah, you’re right. I am.”

You stepped away from him with a sneer. “Why are you acting like this!”

“Like what, Angel?” He smirked at you again, flicking his hair out of his face. 

“Like I’m not about to kill you! Like you’re not about to die!” 

“I’m hoping we can talk this out,” Azriel shrugged. 

“There is nothing to talk about,” you growled, frustrated. You’d expected some yelling or shouts from him, maybe a few pleas thrown in but not whatever this was. 

“I beg to differ,” he replied, “seeing as I’m about to die, I’d like to know why.” 

“Because…you…I—fuck!” You turned away from him, holding the sides of your head in exasperation. You squeezed your eyes shut, Keir’s words replaying in your head on repeat. 

The smile dropped from Azriel’s face at the show of your distress. “Angel, come on. Just drop the dagger and talk to me. Whoever has put you up to this can be dealt with.” 

“You don’t understand,” you cried out. 

“Then make me understand,” Azriel pleaded. “Please.” 

“I have to kill you, Azriel,” you wept. “I have to or I’ll be stuck here forever.” 

“Stuck here? Stuck in The Labyrinth?”

“Yes!” You let out a tiny sob, still not facing him. “If I don’t….if I don’t kill you, I won’t be able to leave.” 

“Angel,” Azriel whispered, “Why would you be stuck here? If you need help leaving, I’ve already offered to get you out.” 

You whirled around to face him. “I can’t just leave, don’t you get it! I can’t just walk out of here like you. I’m trapped.”

“Trapped? Angel, please explain it to me. You’re not making any sense.”

“I was so, so stupid. So stupid, so naive,” you cried. 

“Just tell me what it is,” Azriel said, gently. “Let me help you!”

“You can’t,” you whispered, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. “You can’t help me. Not with this.” 

“Why?”

“Because I made a bargain with Keir,” you said, staring down at the dagger in your hand. “All the girls here have to do it. We get to work here, not get sold off and eventually we will be allowed to leave but…”

“Not without a price,” Azriel filled in the blanks. “So what do you owe Keir favors or something?”

You shook your head. “We’re given marks and targets. He tells us a name and we…we kill them for him.” 

“And let me guess, Keir gave you my name?”

“Yes, he did,” you sighed. “You��re supposed to be my last mark. After this…I’ll be free.”

Silence fell over the room. Silence until Azriel uttered one sentence. 

“So kill me.”

Your head shot up in surprise. “W-what?”

“Kill me,” he repeated, staring directly into your eyes. “If it means you’ll be free, if it means you can leave this place and have a life of your own…kill me.”

“Azriel,” you murmured. “I—”

Azriel yanked himself out of the binds, causing you to gasp. He gripped your arm and dragged you to him, angling the dagger right against his heart.

“Do it, Angel,” he whispered. “It’s okay. Kill me. I want you to be free. I want a better life for you. So kill me.” 

You stared at him, tears pouring down your face. Your hand was shaking as you held the dagger against his skin. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Azriel was giving you his permission, telling you to do it, to kill him. 

He kept a firm grip on your wrist, burying the dagger deeper so it pricked his skin. A small droplet of blood formed, sliding down his bare chest. “Do it, Angel, please.” 

“I-I…I can’t,” you sobbed. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself to push the dagger straight through to his heart, you couldn’t. “I can’t.” 

“Why?” Azriel asked. “Why can’t you?”

“I just…I can’t—”

“Why!” Azriel shouted, making you jump. Your hand was shaking so bad now, tears still streaming down your cheeks. “Why can’t you do it! Tell me why!”

“I don’t know,” you stuttered out through a sob. “I don’t know—”

“Yes, you do,” Azriel said, sternly. “You know why.”

You shook your head, sobbing. He pressed the dagger deeper into his skin. “Why can’t you kill me, Angel? Come on, you know. You know why.” 

He was right. 

You knew why.

You’d known all along. Since the moment you had laid eyes on him that night he came to your room. Something deep inside of you had recognized it and subconsciously buried it. But you couldn’t deny it any longer. 

“Say it,” Azriel demanded. “You know why. Say it!”

You let out a sob.

“You’re….you’re my mate.”

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

taglist: @itsswritten @impossibelle @lilah-asteria @heartless-tate @sheblogs

@jesskidding3 @landofpetrichor @thecollegecowgirl @5onedirection5 @cherry-cin

@fayeatheart @brieflyclassymortal @saltedcoffeescotch @glitterypirateduck @eyebagsanonymous

@chxosangxl @daardyrnitta @seasonallyapril @janebirkln @marvelouslovely-barnes

@frobrotbaggins @purple-writer8 @scooobies @superspideyparker @feyretopia

@sidthedollface2 @xmalfoyweasleyx @slut4acotar @stbwe @shedreamswithstars

@quinzzelx @sevikas-whore @fightmedraco @ubigaia @sunshineangel-reads

@tothestarsandwhateverend @i-am-infinite @scatteredstardustt @rosessndri @sweetestrose569 @roses-r-red54330 @mell-bell @esteriiqww @y0urm0m12 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @adharanotfound

[justwritedreams]

Welcome to the Kingdom | Jeno

Chapter Thirteen: The bittersweet honeymoon

Prince Jeno x Princess Reader, enemies to lovers au!, royalty au!

Word count: 3686

Genre: smut

Author: maari

Warnings: thigh riding, masturbation (m), dirty talk MDI!!! THIS IS A +18 STORY

Note: So hehehe I kind of dreamed about it I'm not that proud of this chapter but I needed to post it

Summary: The honeymoon will begin. Who will give in first?

<<< Previous | Masterlist |

⪢ NCT Masterlist

Taglist: @floweronacloud, @cookydream, @travelleratheart101, @ilvaussie, @tyongf-sunflower99​, @mings-cafe ,  @n0hyuck , @waltermitty97 , @jihoonismydad , @madaboutjunmyeon , @actually-vl   , @neomooniez, @pvppyhao , @ikayyyyyy (can’t tag you honey 😞), @everloving-avenue , @moonchele , @markspossibilities , @yyangj3lly

The princess snorted loudly and crossed her arms, although it was a very childish attitude she didn't care even when she heard Jeno's amused laugh.

Okay, she understood the need to only travel the next day, now having to sleep with Jeno in the same room was already too much!

She wanted to have one last night sleeping alone, with her thoughts, her dreams... She wasn't expecting to sleep in the same room as Jeno so quickly.

“Daughter, please, you know that we hired new employees mainly to serve the wedding party, if any of them find out that you sleep in separate rooms, can you imagine what will happen next?”

She ran her hand over her face, frustrated. Of course she understood what her mother meant.

It was obvious that as soon as anyone noticed that she and Jeno weren’t really in love, the next morning all the tabloids would put on the front page the farce that was the love between the new Romeo and the new Juliet. And newlyweds sleeping in separate rooms would be the worst proof.

She didn't want to start her reign, which hadn't even started yet, like this. With her face printed in the media along with a fake stamp.

"All right mother." she agreed, giving up. “What time will we leave tomorrow?”

“After breakfast, please be ready.”

They both nodded and the queen said goodbye, leaving the room quickly. Y/N took a deep breath before turning around, finding Jeno next to the bed with an amused smile on his face.

She held his gaze, swallowing whatever anxiety had settled in the pit of her stomach. They would just sleep, that's all.

So what if she was thinking about the kiss that hadn't even happened? She was going to be fine… or at least that's what she thought.

"You can take your clothes off." he said before throwing himself on the princess's bed, who looked at him in shock and felt her legs tremble.

Jeno was back with that bossy tone.

"What?" Her voice became thinner and louder, eliciting a sideways smile from Jeno.

“Do you want to sleep in your wedding dress?” he asked, feigning naivety. “If you can do it, that’s fine with me, the bed is big enough for that.”

The princess wanted to beat herself up for the very thoughts that dominated her in those few seconds.

She took a deep breath and swallowed the answer she wanted to give, going to the closet in silence feeling her ears burning.

"Idiot." she whispered to herself as she heard Jeno laugh in the room.

He was in such a good mood that it was irritating her but a mischievous smile appeared on the princess's face as soon as she looked at one of her nightgowns.

Oh she would torture Jeno.

She picked up her clothes and went to the bathroom in silence, with a frown on her face the entire way so Jeno would think she was still mad.

“Do you want help?” She heard his voice tease as soon as she reached the bathroom, she didn't respond at all and closed the door tightly.

She looked in the mirror and the sparkle of fun was in her eyes. The princess had a hard time taking off the dress herself, she had dismissed the maids, but she managed it after a long time. She undid her braid and took off all her accessories, her hair in thick curls fell in front of her bust and she put it back, took off her makeup and put on her nightgown.

Smiling victoriously, she admired her own figure in the mirror.

The white silk nightgown was short, barely reaching mid-thigh, the breast part of the fabric only covered her nipples because everything else was made of lace, enough to see her skin.

She took the opportunity to put on a white robe but left the front exposed. She wanted to show off and that's exactly what she did when she came out of the bathroom, she paused dramatically so Jeno could get a good look at her and she held back her laughter when he choked on his own saliva.

He seemed surprised and very interested in his wife's figure, enough to move off the bed to take a better look.

The princess walked normally to the other side of the bed while Jeno's eyes were fixed on her, she knew that any sudden movement would make him have a clear view of her bust and that was why she pulled two pillows from the bed and threw them at him, which astonished, he couldn't even defend himself.

Jeno removed the pillows from his face and looked at the princess in confusion.

"What?"

"Pardon?"

“You’ll need them to sleep on the floor.” She crossed her arms and Jeno got lost in the movement, he didn't even hide it when he swallowed hard.

She was finding this all amusing.

Y/N huffed, bringing her hands to her waist, attracting Jeno's hungry eyes even more.

“Isn’t it obvious to you?” she asked but he didn't respond, visibly more interested in looking at her. “You’re going to sleep on the floor!”

He blinked a few times and his eyes returned to looking at the princess's face, she had a false serious expression.

"Huh?" That's what he said and she reached for the bedroom carpet. "Sure." He chuckled, placing the pillows on the bed.

"Do you think I’m joking?”

“Damn I’m going to sleep on the floor.” He lay on the bed with his arms crossed behind his head and she laughed in disbelief.

“Okay, then I’ll go.” she made to pull the other pillows that were underneath Jeno and he stopped her.

“How old are you, princess?” She raised her eyebrow. “The bed is big enough for both of us, I won’t grab you in the middle of the night.” she narrowed her eyes. “Unless you ask.” he winked and she rolled her eyes.

Unconsciously she would ask yes.

“Good night, Jeno.”

Y/N got under the blanket after getting rid of the robe and was about to pull the pillow when Jeno got up, she smiled victoriously thinking he was going to sleep on the floor but the smile was quickly undone when he started taking off his clothes, starting with the pants.

“Wow, what are you doing?” She sat on the bed, forcing her eyes to look only at his face. In vain, of course.

“Do I really need to answer?” he pointed to his own body and saw the princess open her mouth to respond but he interrupted her by taking off the rest of the clothes that covered his chest.

Y/N held her breath when she saw Jeno practically naked in front of her, he was only wearing black boxers and just as he had admired her body, it was her turn to do the same.

Mainly because Jeno seemed slightly hard.

“If you are cold at night, you can hug me.” he suggested, smiling mischievously and loving the fact that she admired him so exposed like that.

“I’m going to smother you with the pillow.” she said, trying to hide the embarrassment of having been so shameless in front of him.

Y/N turned her back to Jeno and lay down again, fighting with all her strength not to turn over and look at Jeno lying on her bed.

It was too tempting to have him there by her side.

Y/N held her breath as she felt the bed dip next to her and Jeno's heat approached her back, something in her stomach happened and it wasn't anxiety.

“Dream with me, princess.” he whispered in her ear and she closed her eyes so that no sound would come out of her mouth.

Who was torturing who that night?

[...]

The princess began to regain consciousness little by little, the room was still dark and hot, that's why she buried her face even more in the pillow. She wanted to enjoy a few minutes before getting up, but she felt something soft against her nose and opened her eyes at the same moment.

Coming face to face with Jeno sleeping next to her, with his face pressed against hers because his head was on the same pillow that Y/N was using. Her eyes widened when she realized what had happened, she had accidentally given him an Eskimo kiss.

When she saw that Jeno was moving in bed, about to wake up, she moved away abruptly, trying to keep a safe distance from his body.

With so many pillows on that bed, had they slept for who knows how long in the same one? It had to be a joke, really.

She got up from the bed, feeling her heart pounding against her ribs and took a deep breath to control the need to rub her thighs together. All she needed was to get excited first thing in the morning with Jeno by her side!

Annoyed with herself, she went to get ready for breakfast. She knew that the chalet was on top of a mountain, far from the big city, and the weather was slightly colder compared to the previous day, so that's why she put on dark clothes, a long leather skirt with a slit on the right leg, a blouse with long sleeves in a brown tone and black boots.

When she returned to the room Jeno was still sleeping, with his arms stretched up and his torso exposed, she almost left the room and left him there, until she remembered her obligations and took a deep breath before going to him.

“Jeno.” she called out to him, briefly touching his shoulder. “Get up.” she saw him complain but didn't wake up. “Hurry up, we don’t have all morning.”

The princess used a little more force against his shoulder and Jeno opened one eye, watching Y/N.

“If I pull you, will you stop pushing me?” Y/N felt the back of her neck crawl from Jeno's hoarse voice, her hands started to sweat and she faltered.

"Stop being an idiot." she pulled away completely and Jeno woke up, interested in looking her up and down. “I can't go down without you.”

He smirked.

“Ah, the beauty of marriage.” he hummed and she crossed her arms.

“You have five minutes to get dressed.” she ordered and went to the other end of the bed, waiting.

"Good day to you too. I slept very well and you?” he said ironically and got up from the bed.

Y/N looked away from Jeno's body and scratched the back of her head, feigning interest in a fixed spot in the room, anywhere that wasn't his boxers and his dic-

“What’s the cabin like?” Jeno asked interested.

“Cold, so if you're thinking about wearing a black tank top, I suggest you think about something else.” Y/N replied without looking at him and heard his light laugh. "What?"

“Don’t worry, only you will see me in a tank top from now on.” the princess looked at him and Jeno winked at her.

"I don't care." she shrugged, feigning indifference.

Jeno laughed but didn't say anything, he went to the closet that already had some of his clothes there and got dressed quickly, also dark clothes, a black button-down shirt that he rolled up the sleeves to the elbow and a pair of jeans, he picked up a dark coat and then went to the bathroom to wash his face and mess up his hair.

At the coffee with the queen and the king there was no other topic other than the wedding, all the leaders of the allied countries and even those who weren’t considered friends of the kingdom had been present, sealing for the time being the peace they had sought with that alliance.

As soon as they finished, the bags were already in the car and the princess said goodbye to her parents with a hug while Jeno just nodded.

Y/N had her hands together while Jeno kept his palms on top of his knees, even the driver was feeling the tension between them, so the ride to the cabin was in complete silence.

To deny the tension would also be to deny the discreet looks that they both directed at each other.

The princess was worried, this was remarkable, she would be alone with Jeno in the chalet for a week. No employees, no parents, no press. She had no idea what to expect and worse, she didn't know what could happen.

Not giving in to temptation in the castle was easy because the place was big enough to not even bump into him, but in the chalet it would be different. Not only did they bump into each other, they would sleep in the same room.

And on top of that it was their honeymoon.

Even though she tried not to put pressure on herself about it, after all it was just a political alliance between the two kingdoms, she couldn't help but get goosebumps every time she remembered why they were going so far away.

The driver helped Jeno take the bags out of the car while Y/N went ahead hugging herself because of the cold and anxiety. The chalet was freezing when they entered and the driver left quickly.

Y/N went to the pantry to get some wood scraps to put on the fireplace while Jeno opened the curtains.

“How long has it been since you’ve been here?” Jeno asked as soon as Y/N lit the fireplace, she stood in front of the fire and rubbed her hands together.

She sighed, trying not to get lost in the memories.

“Longer than I would have liked.” was what she replied and Jeno walked over to warm up like her.

While he stared at her without hiding, the princess kept her eyes fixed on the fireplace, her heart racing every second that Jeno looked at her.

"Stop with that." she asked, quietly.

"What?"

“Staring at me like that as if I’m a…” Y/N looked at Jeno who raised his eyebrow, waiting for the answer, she swallowed and looked away. “prey.”

Jeno laughed lightly.

"You’re nervous."

"No I'm not."

“Then why are you sweating?” he questioned as Y/N felt sweat run down the back of her neck, uncomfortable that she was being so obvious to him, she crossed her arms.

"Heat." was the first thing she responded and she wanted to beat herself up for it.

She was hot, but not because of the fireplace.

“Everything would be so much easier if you admitted it.”

She snorted.

“Admit what?” her voice got slightly louder and Jeno approached with slow steps, stopping so close to her that their bodies were almost touching.

“That I can help you as much as you can help me.” Jeno's low tone was seductive, it made her legs tremble, but she wasn't going to give in that easily.

“You said you would only kiss me when I begged you and you know I won’t do that, Jeno.” she raised her eyebrow, defiant, and Jeno fixed his eyes on her mouth.

"You are." he said with certainty. “Not today, maybe not tomorrow but you will.” She opened her mouth to retort but he shut her up, bringing his hand to her lips, catching her off guard with the touch. “But I wasn’t referring to kissing you.”

She narrowed her eyes.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, quietly, unable to take her eyes off his face.

Jeno took his free hand to the princess's waist and pulled her along with him, going backwards to the sofa, the princess was reluctant when he sat down, feeling him putting pressure on her waist so she could do the same, but Jeno was more insistent and made her sit on his lap.

"What are you doing?" She made to get up, resting her hands on his shoulder but Jeno brought his other hand to her waist, keeping her sitting there on his lap.

“Do whatever you want, princess. You no longer need to rub your own thighs.” Y/N felt breathless as she understood what Jeno was trying to do.

Did he want her to relieve herself on his lap?

Y/N felt a fire rise from her lower belly to her face, not only from embarrassment but from it being a very tempting alternative. Jeno was hot, she was sitting on top of his thigh which seemed to be much more toned than she remembered, his perfume and such closeness was causing the bottom of her panties to get wet.

Jeno brought his face closer to Y/N's ear, who remained static, she was afraid he could hear how hard her heart was beating.

“Do you know what I dreamed about last night?” he spoke quietly and she held her breath, not knowing what to say. “That you touched yourself on my lap.” the princess rolled her eyes and closed them completely as she bit her lip. “Make it come true, princess.”

Although she managed to contain her moan, it was impossible to stop her hips from rolling against his leg, Jeno squeezed her waist as if he approved the movement.

At that moment, the princess's rational side was being completely ignored and even though the skirt was in the way of making the friction even more pleasurable, she didn't care.

All she needed and wanted was for that knot that was in her womb to cease at once. And it wasn't like she could deny that she and Jeno had gone there for that very reason, even if they hated each other.

Y/N felt Jeno's fingers move her skirt aside and she rocked harder, earning a grunt of approval from him. She felt the fabric of his jeans rub against the already wet fabric of her panties and that only became an incentive for her to keep the slow and delicious pace.

His hands went to her hips to steady her on his lap and Y/N grabbed his shoulder tighter when he started whispering dirty things in her ear. The princess wanted to feel ashamed for soaking Jeno's thigh while rubbing her hips but all she felt was more desire to continue.

She didn't want modesty, she just wanted to cum.

Y/N's breathing began to become labored as she felt that her climax was close, she closed her eyes while her whole body shook, Jeno didn't stop talking for a single second, encouraging her, watching the delicious and desperate way in which she rolled her lap.

When Jeno kissed her neck in a wet way, it was enough for her to grab his shoulder as she came against his thigh. With her legs shaking from the spasms, she was unable to get up from Jeno's lap and was too embarrassed to look him in the eyes, this wasn’t a problem however as Jeno held her by the waist and got up from the sofa with her still in his lap.

The princess looked anywhere in the cabin, except Jeno, but she let him carry her to the bed. He laid her down on the mattress and she raised her eyebrow when she saw him undo the belt on his pants and swallowed hard when she realized how hard he was, she had been so busy chasing her orgasm that she hadn't noticed that he was as excited as she was.

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to you.”

She felt a slight pang of disappointment but looked at him curious to know what he was going to do. Jeno put his hand inside his underwear and the princess felt her jaw drop when she saw him start to touch himself in front of her. He didn't get rid of his underwear so all Y/N could do was imagine what he looked like, it was enough for her to start salivating and think how much she would like to have a full view of his dick, which didn't happen.

But even so, it didn't stop the cabin's temperature from rising even more, mainly because Jeno couldn't take his eyes off her and Y/N couldn't take her eyes off the expression of pleasure he was making, mouth partially open, eyebrows furrowed, sweat dripping down his forehead.

Y/N was mesmerized by Jeno, the more he moved his hand the more she felt her panties getting even more soaked, she never thought that seeing Jeno touching himself so close to her would be so hot and involuntarily she began to rub her legs against each other, making Jeno moan softly.

“Do me a favor.” he pleaded and she looked at him, panting, it seemed like his fingers were inside her. “Pull off your panties.” Y/N brought her finger to her mouth and bit it to stifle her moan, his voice was so sexy that she couldn't deny him anything. “Let me see how wet you are.”

She nodded and removed her panties, opening her legs and giving Jeno a privileged view of her wet pussy.

He groaned, throwing his head back as he accelerated the movement of his hand on his dick, Y/N felt so hot and so immersed in Jeno that she couldn't do anything but watch him chase his own orgasm.

It was so hot to see him bite his lip hard while watching her pulsate for him, she could cum a second time just watching him touch himself in front of her.

Jeno moaned as he came, the princess even imagined what was going on in his head while he saw her wet pussy because it was the same thing that was going on in her head.

“I promise you, whatever happens here stays here.” she looked him in the eyes and almost actually came when their eyes met, there was a fire of desire visible there. “Nothing will change our reality in the castle.”

Wouldn't it really change?

[lohotine]

Hello, it's me again (so soon, hehe). Sorry if it feels like I'm asking for things so much.

I have a fun request: Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader as Romeo and Juliet. I desire the juiciest star-crossed lovers angst you can make!

AN: I have only read a quick summary of Romeo and Juliet along with bits and pieces of the balcony scene so forgive me if this is inaccurate-

Um but yeah, I took some creative liberties

Shadow Milk x Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: Angst

-Frayed String-

The rough surface of the stone beneath your fingertips is the only thing keeping your mind stable and down to Earth, if the state you're in can even be considered stable.

You are being held together by only a single thread, and every moment you aren't with your lover you can feel a slice of your sanity being discarded.

You curl your fingers into a fist, the coarseness of the stone wall leaving indents in your digits.

You gaze softly to the shimering stars above. The light coming off of them are the only things making your eyes seem alive.

You cannot say that it hurts, because compared to how your heart has been ripped open, this is nothing.

Even if they were to start bleeding, would it even feel like anything compared to aching in your heart?

As you sit there silently, you wonder if Shadow Milk can see the same stars. You wonder if he is thinking of you now as you are thinking of him.

It was such a shame that your parents hated him. If they didn't then you would have married him on the spot.

That day, you practically ripped open your chest to give him your heart. To show him how it beat for him. How you lived for him.

Yet, your parents wanted you to be wed to someone else.

But that someone else wasn't Shadow Milk, and so there was no way your heart could continue to beat after that.

Fate really has played such a cruel joke on the two of you.

Since your family hated him so, to marry him would be like murdering him. Though, to not marry him would be like murdering yourself.

What decision should be made when putting your life on the line against the person giving you life.

Either way, someone would surely die in the end.

"If only you could change your name," you say to yourself. It was just one of those mindless rambles that you often did. You didn't at all expect someone to respond.

"If you call me your lover then I'd gladly change my name," a voice responded.

No more words needed to be spoken for you to recognize exactly who it was.

"Shadow Milk, what are you doing here?!" You'd ask in a hushed yell.

"My dove, I just missed you!" He faded into shadows before reappearing right besides you.

He took your hand in his while also cupping your face. "Your beauty makes even the moon look dull, my dear," He'd say.

Oh how his words made your heart flutter. If it weren't so dark, you're sure he'd see the blush spreading across your face.

"You really shouldn't be here," you told him. Though you could not deny how much you relished in his presence. Every little touch he gave you made you feel as if the world around you was spinning.

"I couldn't help it." He left a soft kiss on your lips, letting it linger for just a while before pulling away.

And so for a moment, the two of you were quiet. Just staring into each other's eyes, exchanging a thousand words that couldn't have been spoken aloud.

Then one of the servants called from outside of your room, and you were quick to speak your farewells.

"Ah, sorry Milk- You have to leave now," you said in a quiet voice.

He only gazed into your eyes while twirling a peice of your hair.

"I'm being serious-" the knock on your door would continue. "Just a minute!" You called out to the servant.

"I love you oh so much.." he said to you before disappearing to someplace else.

All that remained was that leftover warmth of his body and the lingering feeling of longing in your heart.

And now, it seemed as if the world fell silent.

How pitiful it was that the two of you were connected via a frayed string. A connection so frail that it would be worn down by even the air around you.

Oh how his words tormented you. How were you meant to be alright with letting him go when every moment you spent together made you fall so much more in love.

You just wanted to scream out your love for him on the balcony, but that would put both him and you in great danger.

But, what exactly were you supposed to do?

Were you to make him the most happy man in the world by marrying him then letting your family kill him?

Or were you to marry someone else and murder yourself by depriving your heart of the one thing it yearns for?

[centrally-unplanned]

Saw this really cool post of a 1982 "SF" (Science fiction but in Japan that included things like anime, manga, tokusatsu, etc at the time) magazine that did a survey of active fan groups/circles at the time - ~woo, precious data! Lets see what we got:

Love to see a good gender breakdown - as is often the case in these things, while it is of course majority men the number of women participating is very strong. You do notice the age imbalance there - many women in their teens and college-aged, but it drops off quickly. I suspect that this is primarily because this survey is right in the middle of the first wave of the "pop SF boom", where more approachable works like Gundam and new manga subgenres were rapidly growing the community. So the older cadre was more heavily men, while the new group is more balanced. However, this is the early 1980's - it might just be that when a woman graduates college she was expected to marry and "settle down" still, inhibiting participation in these kinds of groups. I think it is primarily the former, Japan had pretty rapidly changed in the 1970's and female creative types were commonplace by then, but I won't pretend the latter players no role.

The writing on this page just contextualizes the piece, not much to report, though it does note that "3 people replied 'other' for gender...as a joke!" Sure, jan!

Anyway, on to page 2, what is our poll question of the day...

ロリコンについてどう思いますか? What do you think about lolicon?

....*siiiiiighs* guys I didn't, I didn't look at the second page before typing this up! I just wanted to report the gender data! This just happens to me, I swear -_-

But I can't back out now I guess:

It actually splits the question by gender - men are asked "are you a lolicon" while women are asked "what do you think of guys who are lolicon" - sexists, way to erase the female lolicon. Not actually joking there, it is a quite a thing due to its overlap with rape and dubcon fetishes - but I won't pretend I have expertise on the prevalence of that in 1982 Japan's SF community, even if it you see it today. Anyway, most men are not lolicons (the tallest line), though others fall on a spectrum from interested to "graduated", certainly a choice of words one could make.

Funnily a good dozen say they are called that by others, but not themselves - I believe that is related to the vague line between loli & shoujo aesthetics at the time. Which is important to emphasize, as I always do on this topic - sometimes the word lolicon just means "youthful" or "cute", sometimes it means like high schoolers, and sometimes it means real-deal underage stuff, and you won't know without context.

Meanwhile two women label lolicon men as "cute!", good for those two living their truth, while others are broadly tolerant but have Opinions. Which is fun, because the rest of the page is people sharing said opinions, sorted into "good" or "bad"! Some choice ones:

★ It's a symptom of modern civilization’s sick parts, but also an inevitable phenomenon. It’s better than having a rabbit or cat complex. Don’t lay hands on young girls. Lolicon must remain platonic. (♂/19/)

You see this theme a bit, "symptom of modernity", the new sexual fetishes are a product of a changing world. Certainly up for debate, but also very "in vogue" for the 80's & 90's to worry about that sort of declinist narrative. Then again, guy is a catgirl and bunnygirl hater, not sure we should listen to their shit taste.

On the flip side you get the "natural way of things" types, of which this is my favourite:

★ There’s nothing abnormal about having a dream involving an uncontrollable urge towards pre-teens. Even Romeo and Juliet would have made Romeo a lolicon given Juliet’s age (14), but people don’t think of it that way. Only at that age can girls love and respect men without ulterior motives. (♂/19/)

That last line, you are telling me so much about you with that one!! You can see how this is discourse, right? Like if one side says you are a "symptom of modernity" you ofc respond with "this is how all guys are" and with callbacks to traditional culture.

The "bad" side has a lot of ruthless condemnation, with more than one call for the lolicons to simply die or labelling them worthless scum. The magazine's writers do try to keep the tone breezy but I do think this topic being actually contentious in the community pokes through here. Though this serious one really did undercut herself a bit at the end:

★ I can understand why one person of the same gender might feel admiration or affection for a child or young girl, but for a man to only be able to love much younger women? That’s a mental illness! If they aren’t willing to fix themselves, they might as well die. They’re enemies of women. It's not going to turn out like Nabokov's Lolita. (♀/20s/)

I mean they did also kill jesus Humbert Humbert in Lolita. that was a pretty significant thing that happened. like i understand where you’re coming from here but they very much did kill the Lolita guy.

There is an editorial at the end, and it echoes something one of the comments also states; that the lolicon boom was seen as coming from "hard" SF fans, the people who did the really nerdy stuff. There is a word they use actually which is neat: 根暗/Nekura, meaning someone with a "gloomy root". It began seeing use as a slang for hyper-serious, boorish people in the late 1970's and became a fad to use in precisely 1982 - here is a live record of that! They associate "hard SF" fans with these sort of gloomy types who can't take a joke or appreciate hanging out with the buds at a bar, that kind of thing. From there, and here I am reading between the lines, these fans like a sort of "idealistically sterile" world, and lolicon as a preference (in comparison to Real Adult Women) flows naturally.

I mention this because astute readers might be going "oh, like otaku?" and that word was only just buzzing around at this time - it is typically dated to 1983. The editorial writers note that these nekura-types are nowadays proud of that fact, wearing it like an identity:

A: I’m not really sure why, I don’t fully understand the inner workings of the SF world, but it’s like, out there, hardcore SF fans are considered gloomy. Maybe that’s why there’s this connection to lolicon? B: But surprisingly, everyone’s actually pretty cheerful. In today’s world, the 'dark and gloomy tribe' is trendy. It’s like they’re enjoying calling themselves gloomy, almost as a fashion statement.

So yeah, I can totally see proto-otaku discourse going on at the edges here.

There is a third page but it continues in a similar vein. A bunch of mentions of Hideo Azuma, who I am growing increasingly convinced was more of a lodestone for the lolicon boom than is currently appreciated - he is the ur-reference everyone makes. More discussion of girls in sailor uniforms as a gateway drug, yeah yeah, "is fine as long as its fiction", of course of course, one of the magazine editors remarking he wants "a wife for practical uses but a daughter as a pet" yeah okay we can call it we're done here, no more survey data anyway.

Not the topic I expected to find, but still this is really valuable "primary source data" - you can't trust the literary class fully on these things, having first hand quotes from community members on otaku culture in the era is always valuable.

Sorry if you got tricked into reading this - in my defense I did too!

[slytherinshua]

ROMEO AND JULIET

genre. ballet au. fluff and a lil drama. warnings. shotaro has a bit of an annoying ex. reader has hair long enough to put in a bun. ballet terminology that you may or may not understand sry </3. pairing. professional ballet dancer!shotaro x professional ballet dancer!reader. wc. 2k. request. no. a/n. i had a lot of fun writing this since i used to dance as well, tho the drama i added was a bit unnecessary. i kinda didn't want to lean into the toxic ballet environment stereotype cause honestly it's just not true?? but anything the get the wc up 😭😭😭

You could feel Shotaro’s hot breath on your neck as he set you back down from the lift, waiting for you to catch your balance for the arabesque before he let go and you did your final sequence of pirouettes to end the first pas de deux. Romeo and Juliet was one of your favourite ballets to perform, but god was it tiring. You could feel your legs and feet screaming for rest, but you prepared for the turn sequence nonetheless, knowing you had no time to rest.

Your body went into autopilot as usual, and you pushed up onto relevé for the fouettés, ignoring all your body’s signs for rest. You felt Shotaro’s hands come back to your waist after the 5th turn, holding you steady for the last 3. You ended as gracefully as you started, with a practiced smile before the music ended and you were able to relax finally.

You heaved in a few breaths, Shotaro doing the same next to you. He gave your shoulder a quick squeeze, something that would go unnoticed if you weren’t looking for it. 

You listened to the director’s few corrections and praises before making your way off stage and into your private dressing room. It was the first stage rehearsal before shows started tomorrow. There was a full week of night time showings and 2 afternoon ones as well. At least you would be getting a good pay check for this season. 

You had just finished changing into your regular clothes when you heard the familiar knock on the door and sighed in relief. Shotaro opened the door slowly, smiling at you fondly through the mirror. He had already changed as well, and splashed water on his face and hair to cool off, it seemed. He was always faster than you were. He came up behind you, draping his arms over your chair and around your chest, chin rested on your shoulder.

“Tired?” You asked him, reaching to take out the bobby pins in your hair. He nodded and nestled further into your neck. You scratched his head gently on your way to get another bobby pin, and he sighed.

“So tired. I shouldn’t have signed up for those early morning classes tomorrow. I’ll barely have time to sleep tonight, and then the first show is tomorrow.” He complained. You were about to respond when you heard a knock on the door and straightened. Shotaro quickly jumped back a safe distance from you, crossing his arms in front of him and leaning on the wall. You were both used to the routine of hiding your relationship at all costs.

Your heart sank when you realized it was Haeun, your main understudy for the show. Your life when you joined the ballet company had been fairly easy and drama free, until you somehow got on her bad side. You were always competing for the main roles in shows, and you hated the pressure. You had worked extra hard to earn the role of Juliet in this ballet particularly, since you knew Shotaro would already be cast for Romeo. 

It was a romantic ballet, and there were quite a few kisses on stage for the purpose of the story. Of course you knew it was all acting even if he had to kiss someone else, but you really didn’t want it to be Haeun. She seemed less than pleased that she only got understudy for Juliet, and kept bothering you every day after rehearsals were over. 

She looked shocked as soon as she saw that Shotaro was in your dressing room as well. You hoped she wouldn’t mention it, but, of course, she did.

“Osaki. I didn’t expect to find you in here as well.” She gave a forced smile that you saw through the mirror. 

“I was just talking to Y/n about some details for the pas de deux.” He said smoothly, diverting any suspicion. “She was amazing during rehearsals, don’t you think? So perfect for the role of Juliet.” He smiled adorably, looking at you fondly. Haeun looked less than happy about him praising you.

There was a moment of silence, and you were sure she was about to protest Shotaro’s words, probably making up some criticism about you dancing badly during rehearsals. You knew you hadn’t. Shotaro was right; you had danced near perfectly. Haeun always pulled something out of thin air just to degrade you. You had learned to not listen to anything that came out of her mouth, but you were slightly worried with Shotaro still in the room.

She seemed deterred from saying her usual rude remarks when Shotaro was there to hear them as well. She agreed quietly before leaving the dressing room. You felt some weight lifted off your chest as your boyfriend closed the door again. You rested your forehead against the desk of the vanity, hoping that that was the last time you had to worry about Haeun bothering you before the fight for main roles in Alice in Wonderland.

“What was that about?” Shotaro asked curiously, quirking a brow at you through the mirror.

“She usually comes to bother me after class, rehearsal, shows— really any chance she gets. I guess it’s entertaining for her.” You shook your head, grabbing your hair brush as you pulled the bun net off your hair and let it fall free.

“She’s not very nice.” Shotaro said quietly, taking the brush from your hand and running it gently through your hair for you.

“I know. I don’t mind that much anymore. Don’t worry, okay?” You smiled at him through the mirror, adoring his shiny eyes and button nose as he beamed back at you.

“All done.” He kissed your temple. “Let’s grab food on the way back.”

You packed up quickly and followed Shotaro out of the building, carefully making sure you didn’t hold his hand until you were 2 blocks away from the theatre. At this point, you weren’t even worried about the company finding out about your relationship, but you were sure if Haeun got word of it, she wouldn’t let it go.

You nudged your boyfriend’s shoulder, “Taro.” He hummed, happily accepting one of your earbuds that you were offering. You turned on his favourite playlist and walked hand-in-hand to a good Japanese restaurant. 

//

The show was going absolutely perfect— if you ignored how Haeun glared at you backstage. You weren’t sure why she was making so much effort today of all days. She had her own roles in the ballet to focus on, and you wished for once she would focus on being as professional as possible instead of picking a fight with you.

It was during the first intermission that she finally spoke to you. You had just gotten off stage after your scene with Shotaro; Romeo and Juliet had professed their love for one another. You had a longer break than just the 20 minute intermission, as you wouldn’t be needed on stage until after the first scene of Act 2. Haeun seemed eager to take a hold of this break. She quickly found you in your dressing room after you had slipped into your stage outfit for Act 2.

“I knew you were always brazen, but you’ve certainly outdone yourself this time, haven’t you?” She snapped.

“Haeun, what are you mad about this time? Now is not the time to bring up some petty complaint-” You got cut off by her before you could finish.

“Petty? Don’t you think that’s a bit hypocritical coming from your mouth? There’s nothing pettier than dating just to get back at me. You thought it would affect me, didn’t you? Well, it didn’t. You can stop the act now.” She sneered, and you were half certain she was critically insane at this point.

“What are you talking about? I’ve never done something like that.” You probably shouldn’t have engaged in the conversation in the first place. It was smarter to ignore her and not give her the attention she wanted, but you were genuinely bewildered as to what she was talking about this time.

“You thought I wouldn’t know that you started dating Shotaro? Why else would you purposefully date my ex boyfriend?! You’re determined to steal everything from me, aren’t you?” She raised your voice louder than you would have liked, the ringing getting to your ears before she left the room.

You weren’t even sure you had heard her right. Shotaro? Ex boyfriend? It was probably the most absurd thing to ever come out of her mouth, but what scared you was that she sounded genuine this time. All previous attempts to get under your skin were so obviously ridiculous, that you weren’t willing to spend even an ounce of your mental energy on it. But the honesty in her voice threw you off guard. Was she being truthful about dating Shotaro?

There was only 5 minutes to stage and you still hadn’t done your hair. You decided you would circle back to the topic after the show. For now, you had to focus on getting ready before you had to be on stage.

The rest of the show went smoothly, and even Haeun didn’t seem to bother you on or off stage. All of it was rubbing you the wrong way— her previous words, her sudden disinterest in bothering you, and how genuine she had sounded. It didn’t excuse all the times she had picked a fight with you for no reason, but maybe in her mind you had actually wronged her.

The company had always been competitive for lead roles, and you were confident that you were only cast because you fit well with the production. You did better in classic ballet roles, and were often only part of the company group during more modern ballet showings. You had seen Haeun get cast as the lead for many shows, so her obsession with you getting lead roles always seemed to confuse you.

Romeo and Juliet, Swan Lake, Giselle, even Cinderella. All of these ballets you had performed alongside Shotaro, even long before you had started dating him. Maybe that was why she was upset over it; because you were the one performing alongside him instead of her.

Shotaro came to your dressing room after the show as usual, his usual bright and bubbly energy so contagious that you couldn’t help but smile at him. You had only one thing to ask of him before you let the topic rest.

“Hey, Taro?” You wiped off some of your makeup as you spoke.

“Hm?”

“Did you date Haeun?”

He laughed a little at your question and you threw him a questioning glance through the mirror, “Yeah, for like 2 weeks. She really liked me, but I didn’t really like her back much. I think she still likes me even though I ended it so long ago. We haven’t spoken at all outside of work for 3 years now. Why do you ask?”

“She just brought it up with me earlier. I was just wondering since you had never mentioned it before— but given that it was so short, I see why. I think that’s why she’s been bothering me as well.” You explained, much more reassured than you had been before.

Shotaro scrunched his nose, “She knew about us dating? I’m surprised she didn’t say anything to the director… I would’ve expected her to make a bigger deal out of it.”

“Me too. I’m guessing she couldn’t say anything because it would harm you and not just me. Either way, I’m not too worried about hiding our relationship anymore.” You grinned at your boyfriend and how his face lit up at your remark.

“Really?”

You nodded, “Now that she knows and still didn’t say anything, there’s no risk. No kissing me during rehearsals, though.” You clarified.

Shotaro frowned, “I wouldn’t be that unprofessional. I’ll only kiss you when there’s no one else around.” He smiled, leaning in to press a quick peck to your lips just to prove his point.

Your lips formed a loving smile, thankful that you were able to stay next to Shotaro, both onstage and off.

↳ riize taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,,

@blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @evalevaeva,, @lecheugo,, @wccycc,,

@seunghancore,, @planetkiimchi

[thehopelessexception]

is it just me?

i've been observing a tendency surrounding women —mostly between 20 and 26— where we can't find anything close to love (from men). women are not dating, nor living a normal life, developing a femcel-like point of view. and im saying this because i want to be loved just like anyone else, but are we the problem? or is there something wrong with boys? i mean, ofc there's something wrong with boys; but every year pass by and every time is harder and harder to find someone willing to put the effort to make you feel loved and understood. was it like this 50 years ago? 100 years ago? i am very much aware that our mothers and grandmothers suffered in the world they lived in, generally with sexist husbands and mandatory tradwife lifestyle. but i am also sure that there was some exceptions, way too many more than today.

and we tend to romanticize the past, probably there's something to do with our generation. nor millennials or gen z, the ones in the middle. the girls who grew up with enough technology but not so much. the ones that went crazy over boybands and fanfiction and hung up posters in our walls. the ones that went crazy in 2018-2020 with deranged feminism just to realise, later on, nobody really cared and it maybe was a little over the top. the ones that filled our beds with stuffed animals repeatedly every time we woke up just to throw them on the floor at night so we could sleep. the girls who spent their teenage years on tumblr writing code (before men took that away from us) and making playlists of marina lana and the 1975 so everyone on the internet could see how cool we wanted to look like. probably the ones that suffered some kind of bullying in highschool or some health problem related to how we didn't fit in or how bad we looked at ourselves in the mirror (yk what i mean). we weren't the cool kids in real life or it was just me?

now i'm observing how hard it is to adapt that teenager to adult years. and maybe it's me but i don't feel like an adult. i am a tiny ball of anxiety. i suffer too much stress. i am trying to finish my degree but i don't know if im worthy of anything because i dont have money, and i don't have time to work and study at the same time because i spend too many time thinking about it and feeling a fraud and a failure.

i don't know how to talk to boys either —nor girls, in that way—. and until some days ago i was quite sure i was willing and capable of spending my whole life alone. i've given up to anything because i felt it imposible to be loved. but lately my mind goes up and down with that scene of jo monologue in little women by gretta gerwig. and it also goes with the hot priest monologue of fleabag. and today i rewatched the classic he's just not that into you. are we condemned to be the tedious rule? am i?

i've seen all of my girlfriends suffering the same mysery. and i've seen the extremes. women giving up the love they deserve —because they accepted the fate of being the rule— by dating a jerk just because they are afraid of loneliness. and i've also seen women giving up everything else just because they are not willing to give up love. those are us. hopeless romantics who watched way too many romantic comedies and somehow still expect to find someone willing to die for us just like dicaprio in romeo + juliet. —or at least a patrick verona—.

what i've never seen was actual love. all the couples i met... they don't look happy. they don't look in love. they don't look like they enjoy their own company even. they look exactly like a picture of instagram. they exist just to make us feel miserable even when it's obvious they are not gonna last. i've seen couples of what? 7 years? gone. broken up. they grew tired of each other and of course they never looked like they had anything close to sparkles in their eyes. chemistry? none. and maybe it is my anxiety speaking but i don't want that. i refuse to have that. i want all or nothing. i want always and forever. i want everyone to look at us and think "if i don't have that i'll kms". i want family —even tho im not sure i want to get pregnant, what am i a childbride?—. i don't want to change anything to fit in with the standards of a boy. i want marriage even tho im not sure i want to be legally married. i want the posibility, the future. i want the emotions surpassing myself. i want to not know me anymore and then knowing me again. i want to doubt myself. i want my heart beating so fast i could kill someone for them. i want to believe god exists. i want to laugh of happiness without they making a joke. i want my sundays to not be deppresing because i can hang out with the love of my life and have fun. i want to be the "and yet" of someone willingly enough to fall for me every single day even if i am kinda insane all the time. i want someone who cares. someone who fantasizes with spending the rest of their lives with me and is going to put the effort to get to know every single thing about me and stay because he's blown away. and aparently that's setting the bar "too high" because we are the rule and not the exception.

people always assume that by being a romantic i expect flowers every day and cheesy comments about how beautiful i look; and that would actually make me want to puke because i can do that myself. i am confortable with myself, i like myself, i love myself, i have the ego. i am not really asking for that much i just want someone to love me with every single thing that's probably wrong with me. what i want is someone curious and smart. someone who pays enough attention or wants to. i want the chemistry off the roof.

and contrary to anyone's beliefs the bar is too low about everything else. every single girl probably wants the same thing. is it that hard for men to understand that women want to feel loved?

lately —worldwide— it's all a competition of genres as if humanity doesn't need us to interact to survive. it's a loop that opened up in 2013? with the tumblr-4chan gate and right now got translated to the real world because pick-mes are back and being a man is cool. and suddenly that's how nature works!! because apparently women are boring and just a hole. maybe they all need to go all alexander the great. but it's getting boring. and we as women deserve love as much as respect.

[invisibleraven]

“Yes, it’s a mess but it’s our mess. We’re the only ones who can fix it.”

Let's open femslash february with sapphic ship of your choice?

Julie never meant for it to happen, falling in love with the enemy. Heck, she hadn't known Carrie was the enemy when they first met. It was an innocent meet cute at a coffee shop-brushed fingers as they reached for their orders, a blush and frantic grabbing of napkins to clean the minor spill, an offer to talk to turned into a day sent together.

It was only later, after she had put her number into Carrie's phone, a dreamy smile on her face that Flynn found her, and told her the truth-Carrie was the heir to the Wilson fortune-the same family that had persecuted and destroyed her own.

Julie wished she could say that this hardened her heart, but it only made it ache. Carrie had been so real with her, talking about wanting to be her own person, to step out from the shadows of expectations, without giving her identity away. Who listened when Julie talked about being lost and unsure for so long after losing her mother, without dragging Trevor's ame into the reason why Rose was lost.

Could Carrie really be as evil as those surrounding her?

So the next time they ran into each other, each stopped as their eyes met. "We-we should talk," Carrie said, her voice low.

"Not here," Julie replied, guiding them to a side street, the worn couch outside a club that her band mates used to frequent back in their day. "So talk."

"I didn't know who you were," Carrie revealed, "But even if I did-I think I still would have liked it to have played out the same way."

"Me too," Julie confessed, her voice quiet, almost drowned by the traffic off in the distance. "We can't do this though."

"Why not?" Carrie asked. "I'm not my father-I don't want to destroy or take. I want to create."

"I know that, but I've spent my whole life hating him, what he represents. It would almost feel like...a betrayal to those beliefs to be with you, no matter how much I would like to."

"Doesn't seem very fair to either of us, to be denied happiness because of a grudge," Carrie remarked. "Too Shakespearean. I never did like Shakespeare."

"Much Ado isn't bad," Julie remarked, causing the two of them to snort and then collapse into laughter, even though it wasn't remotely funny.

"Well let's try for comedy over tragedy then," Carrie said, taking Julie's hand once they had regained their breath. "I really like you Julie. You're the first person outside my closest friend that I've felt like me with in a long time. I don't want to let that go."

"Me either," Julie replied. "You made everything else melt away-all the uncertainty, the bitterness. I was just-Julie with you."

"So be just Julie, and I'll just be Carrie. No other names, we're still us."

"You're verging into Romeo & Juliet again," Julie said with a smile--one that didn't fade, even as Carrie silenced her with a kiss.

They kept meeting; secret rendezvous away from prying eyes, away from those who would judge without understanding. To talk, and sing, and kiss. To confess secrets and fears and feelings in their own little world where they could just be.

But outside that bubble, tensions grew high. Resistance versus corporation, family versus family, with violence and threats rising by the hour. Soon curfews would be enacted, martial law put in place. Then Julie was sure she would never see Carrie again.

"I don't want to lose you," she confessed, clinging tight to her, tears running down both their faces.

"You won't," Carrie tried to assure her. But in her heart, she wasn't sure. This was complicated more than either of them thought it would be. "This whole thing is a mess."

Julie gave a shuddering breath, then straightened up, looking Carrie in the eye. “Yes, it’s a mess but it’s our mess. We’re the only ones who can fix it.”

"How?"

"We talk to those in charge, find a way to broker peace, or reach a ceasefire, whatever we have to do," Julie said, resolved.

"We could always run away," Carrie suggested, though there was no spark behind her words. "Start a new life somewhere else, far away from all of this."

Julie worried her bottom lip-the thought was so tempting. Finding a place all their own, where they wouldn't need to hide, where they could truly be just Julie and Carrie together without a care. Yet she shook her head. "I couldn't leave everyone like that, and you know deep down, neither could you. We have to at least try to stop all this, to save what's left."

"You're right," Carrie conceded. "I hate when you're right."

"But I always am," Julie smirked, laughing when Carrie pulled her down for a kiss with a shake of her head.

Maybe their words, their love would do nothing-perhaps even make things worse. But they had to try-because Julie wanted to finally be the person she was meant to be, and Carrie needed a life out of the shadows. Together was the only was through.

So hand in hand, they left their little bubble-hope in their hearts, and swore, no matter what, their story would not end up a tragedy-no matter what the stories said, they had to believe they could defy the stars, and change the world-or at the very least, the minds of their fathers.

But above all else, no matter the outcome, they promised, they would do it together-and always would.

[destinyc1020]

I have seen the discourse since the beginning and you have hit it on the head destiny about lookisim. Because Fran was not “conventionally attractive” (don’t agree btw), it opened her up to not just the racists but black people esp black men who pushed back on the people who were defending her and said “it’s not about racism, she is just not attractive enough to play Juliet.” A lot of black men repeated this narrative. A-lot of discourse from our own community as to why she was cast because it “set her up.” Alot of conversations about how they couldn’t buy into the narrative of the play if they don’t find her attractive. This galvanized by the typical racists out there created a snowball effect that lasted because a lot of people including black people agreed with it. I think black men should really examine how they treat black women and how they speak about them. I think that’s the saddest part that she wasn’t even protected by our own you know. It’s over now and hopefully everyone learned something from it. It’s funny, right when she was cast I remember an anon sent you a message saying “I hope everyone is respectful of her.” And I never forgot that. In the back of my mind I already knew there would be some discourse. I’ll be honest I didn’t expect her to be cast as she is not the typical look hollywood plasters all over but I thought it was fresh and new. I didn’t expect the barrage to this extent obviously. I don’t think Jamie thought about the current racism climate exacerbated by twitter. But it’s obvious that it we swapped out Tom for any of the famous white boys (Timmy, Austin, JE, Paul mescal) and cast Fran the response would have been the same. So as much as everyone would like to blame him, the knowledge that if we swapped him out the discourse would likely be the same tells me it’s the structural issue which is what Fran was trying to say I believe.

Yea, I totally agree Anon that there really needs to be a deeper conversation with Black men, and why they feel so emboldened to tear down their own Black women PUBLICLY. Like, I don't usually see any other race of men doing stuff like this. They may say stuff amongst themselves in private about their women, but usually, you do not see such hatred and vitriol being spread publicly online towards women of their own race like that. 🥴

To me, it's a form of mental illness, and deeply-rooted self hate. 😔

I don't think Fran is unattractive at all. There's a saying a woman (forgot who) once said lol. She said, "There are no ugly women, just lazy ones". Smthg to that effect lol 😆

I think her point was that ANY woman can look "good" if they just put effort into their looks. Especially with the tons of makeup available out here. A ton of people (women AND men) could look better than they do if they were to just put forth more effort in their looks. Some people are just naturally more physically attractive than others (true), but those who weren't blessed in the genetics can also look much better than they do with a little "cleaning up". Some people really do "clean up" well! 😁😃

Fran doesn't live in superficial LA. So she's not going to look like an "Insta Baddie". To me, she looked like a regular Black woman from the UK. 🤷🏾‍♀️ Her looks are cute! She just isn't "done up".

Most of Jamie's R&J production seemed very minimalist and austere tbh, so it's not surprising that Juliet wasn't wearing pounds of makeup.

I also agree with you that if ANY other popular (emphasis on popular) white male had been cast in the role of Romeo, the jokes and racist comments would have been the same unfortunately. 🥴

I honestly didn't expect there to be THIS much backlash and racist hate myself.... It just - unfortunately - shows what type of society we live in. 😔

[sunskate]

Nebelhorn FD

sigh of relief their Carmen is really good and looks like them and only them (except for a tiny moment or two 😅) - they picked some of the greatest pieces, and not always the usual ones - the cut is jarring how it jumps from one unrelated key to another, how it jumps to the 2nd part of the Habenera without establishing the melody, how it's like jukebox Carmen lol turn this in as a music theory assignment and you might get points for creatively mashing it up but a fail for how clashy some of the transitions are. but it does the trick - it's got drama, lushness, big accents

they look beautiful - love how effortlessly smooth they make that sliding SlLi with those fluid position changes look, can you look at the steps and still say they're slow? the choreo is very very good - they're not totally on the music yet, but if they can get everything where it's supposed to land, by the time the gong goes off near the end you'll be holding your breath and the crowd might be on their feet when they end

Benoit made Z/K a P/C-esque lyrical program. watch for how much they skate in hold. it's almost zero. they're either side by side or hand in hand. and when they're in hold they skate far apart. that makes the level of difficulty less. i really loved the previews they showed on tiktok, but in the program, the most interesting parts don't land on anything musical, so this didn't work for me. after yesterday and those beautiful previews, i was expecting something else. but after this, it felt like they'd left room for CPom above them

the Taschlers are impressively strong and fast. this program doesn't really stand out? the music is Moby, and idk it's not memorable, even though they're skating with emotion

Olivia and Tim - nooo it was going so well - this program plays with different shapes and is a little out of the ordinary - it has the potential to be a stand out. she had the twizzle issue and then oof the double fall

Utana and Masaya - they're lovely. this program is lovely - ballet music just makes beautiful ice dance programs, and Prokofiev Romeo and Juliet is SO gorgeous. she can float, and the dress adds to that feeling

Lilah and Lewis - if they were scored on the same scale as everyone else, then i'd be happy for them 😅 at least it's not rocky

[ithinkyouhealedmyheart]

89 for JaLyn 👉👈 🥺

You got:

I do not apologize for the amount of Drake Bell songs on my wrapped playlist, but you have been warned.

"I'm in love with Lynette!"

James covered his mouth, and his eyes widened. This didn't come as a surprise to his friends. They knew the brunette's feelings for the Kat's Crew dancer. The singer bent backward for her unintentionally, or maybe it was intentional. James spent most of his time with Kendall, Carlos, and Logan, but now his time is divided between his friends and Lynette. He takes every excuse to see her.

"Okay?" Logan didn't look up from his homework.

"Aren't you guys going to gasp or say this is sacrilegious because Kat's Crew was brought on to replace us?" James pouted and crossed his arms. "I'm like Romeo announcing his love for Juliet."

"Dude, you are not star-crossed lovers." Kendall was lying on the orange couch, tossing popcorn into his mouth.

"Not true! Our bands will never get along, and it'll tear our love to shreds!" James put a hand to his forehead and sighed dramatically.

The door to 2J squeaked open, and James snapped his head towards the door. He grinned when he saw Lynette standing there. Her purple cropped leather jacket was his favorite article of clothing she owned since his favorite color was purple, but it was stylish.

"There's an event at the boardwalk, and Ronnie is busy, apparently." She shot Kendall a sarcastic glare. "James, do you want to come with me?"

"Us? Alone?" James swore his heart skipped a beat.

"Alone? No, Kat, Shay, and Jay Jay are coming too, but it's not like we'll be in this massive group. Kat's mom has a lot of room in her minivan." Lynette leaned against the doorway.

James didn't bother grabbing a jacket as he practically raced out of the apartment. Lynette stayed behind momentarily, trying to process how fast the brunette moved.

"Nothing below the waist," Kendall commented with a knowing look.

"What does that- " Lynette's shoulders scrunched up, and she shut the door quickly.

James was practically squished against the door with Lynette at his side. Kat rode in the front because it was her mom's van. Jay Jay and Shay were glued to their phones while Lynette bobbed her head to the faint sound of music playing over the radio. James had not interacted with Kat's Crew since their first interaction when Gustavo pitted them against each other to take his last remaining slot. Of course, Gustavo would never give up on Big Time Rush. He wanted to scare them because no one was taking this seriously.

He learned from Ronnie that Kat's Crew had left Hawk Records, and Griffin welcomed the girls back to Rocque Records with open arms. Lynette was a background singer, but her strength was dancing. She preferred it compared to singing with the other three girls. James couldn't understand why someone would like dancing better than singing, but he would never ask her why if it seemed like he was judging her.

For some reason, the brunette wasn't expecting the boardwalk to be crowded. He didn't know what to expect when he heard about the carnival. Kat, Shay, and Jay Jay separated from the group when they left the car, leaving Lynette and James. He didn't know why he was so nervous. He squeaked when she took his hand and led him through the crowds. Even if it wasn't anything more than platonic, James couldn't deny holding hands with her made him happy. Butterflies were fluttering in his stomach.

Lynette didn't mind the crowds. She mentally prepared herself for the number of people on the car ride. Holding James' hand was a way to ground herself. It was also just lovely to hold his hand. It fit in hers like a puzzle piece.

"Oh! Let's go here!"

She pointed to one of the stalls, and her eyes lit up. It was one of those stalls where the objective was to pop as many balloons as possible. James was a bit uneasy, but he walked over with her. He could have been better at these types of games back home. There were far too many stuffed animal prizes he could never win. But, for some reason, he was determined to win something.

He gave the carney the money in exchange for three darts, which felt heavy in his hand. If Logan had been there, he would have said the darts were weighted, and the game was rigged, but James was a bit naive. With Lynette watching, he felt even more nervous. What if he screwed up? What if he hit her with one of the darts? What if he hit himself with one of the darts instead? He took a shaky breath and threw the first dart.

The balloon pop was like an explosion, and it startled him. He threw the other two darts with a bit more confidence than before. One of them managed to pop two balloons, which seemed like they could have been more logistically possible, but James wasn't the logical one. He got to choose one of the prizes and noticed how intently Lynette was staring at that big, fluffy dog.

The girl squealed when he handed her the large German Shepard. She giggled and hugged it to her chest.

"This is awesome! Thank you!"

"Yeah, of course!" The singer coughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. Could she see him blushing?

[bodrewritten]

Daughter of Discord Rewritten Chapter 14: Crash Course

11:23 AM, Two days after the Gala.

The morning was grim. A dark cloud of regret hung over the halls as decorations were taken down.

Taco Grandé, Dinky, the cinnamon twins, Apple Blossom, thunder, and lightning stood outside Screwball's bedroom.

"Go ahead," Lightning slash said, nudging her friend. "Knock."

"I'm not knocking," Thunder crack insisted. "You knock!"

"No, you knock!"

"You knock!"

"Fine! Cinnamon Twist you knock!"

"What?!" the earth colt declared. "I ain't even do nothin'! 'sides, she probably doesn't even wanna be cheered up right now!"

"My cuz is right," Apple Blossom agreed. "S'pose we get her upset and she takes it out on us? She went through a lot yesterday. Maybe only one of us should go in."

"I'll go," Dinky volunteered. "Even if she doesn't wanna be cheered up, I can let her know we're here when she does."

No pony argued whenever Dinky said that, knowing that the two of them were closer than bread and butter. The unicorn was about to knock on the door when Cinnamon Twist stopped her hoof.

"Be careful," she whispered. "Take these, for moral support."

Dinky nodded and knocked.

"Go away!" Screwball groaned from inside.

"Screwy, it's Dinky! May I come in?"

There was a pause. "Just you."

The door opened automatically for Dinky to step inside. The room was completely dark, rain patted onto the bed, on top of screwball. She was not crying, but the furniture splintering into abstract concepts and rapidly switching forms told dinky all that she needed to know. Dinky put a plate of six apple fritters on screwball's desk. Screwball raised an eyebrow

"i don't like pastries?"

"oh, those are mine. They're for moral support." her friend stated.

"Right." Screwball chuckled.

Dinky climbed onto the bed and carefully lay her hoof on Screwball's head. "You okay?"

"I understand," Dinky nodded. "Doodle palooza told us about your fight with your dad."

"Not really. Sorry, Dinks. I've just had a bad day."

"That little tattletale." Screwball muttered under her breath

"Every pony fights with their parents now and then."

"But that's the first time I fought with Dad! I mean Mom's gotten sore at me several times before, but not Dad! We never had anything to argue about until now!"

She buried her face in her hooves. Dinky patted her on the head.

"Doodle told me he was hard on you."

"What else did he tell you?" Screwball asked, not looking up.

The unicorn bit her lip. "Well...I don't know if he was just talking crazy like he normally does, but he said that...you were, um...dating that changeling?"

This time, Screwball did look up. "I don't think so. He said he can't see me anymore because he doesn't wanna put a rift between me and my family."

Dinky's eyes widened. "Was he the special some pony you were talking about?"

"Yes."

"Wow. You weren't kidding when you said your dad would get mad."

Screwball had expected a scream. "You don't mind?"

"Screwy, my best friend's the Princess of Chaos, my friend has three moms and my eyes look in opposite directions. I'm used to weird stuff." Maple Cinnamon might not just be a friend at this point...

The earth pony giggled. "Well, yeah, but...changelings are supposed to be evil."

Dinky shrugged. "So is your dad."

Screwball smiled and hugged her friend. "I knew you'd understand, Dinky! What do the others think?"

"Oh, they freaked out, then they said they didn't expect anything less. In a good way."

"I really don't think anypony is as special as mothball."

"Mothball? Is that his name? Hey! Screwball? Mothball? It's like you were meant for each other! Hey! I have an idea! You could run away together! It would be so romantic!"

"Yeah. It's a little more complicated than that, Dinky."

"How so?"

"For starters, he's the prince of the changelings."

Dinky gasped. "Wow! He's a prince even! It's just like Romeo and Juliet!"

"You don't get it, Dinky! He's heir to Chrysalis' throne! Queen Chrysalis is his mother!"

"Well, no offense, but your family's rep isn't perfect either."

"Second, Mothball doesn't believe he has a heart."

"That's silly! Every pony has a heart! Some have two, Ma says."

"But changelings aren't supposed to have hearts. Dad thinks Mothball's just leading me on."

"Then why does he keep coming to your window? By the way, I saw the rose."

Screwball sighed. "Of course, you did."

"Hey, everything will be okay. Things will work out with your parents! Eventually, they'll see how much he really cares about you!"

The earth pony shook her head. "Dinky, face it. You may be my best friend, and you may be real smart, but you can be really naïve sometimes."

"Exactly!" Dinky exclaimed, flinging her forelegs around Screwball's shoulders. "Which is why you have my support the whole way!"

Screwball grinned. "Thanks, Dinky. You know how Gold Digger and Silver Tray used to say I would become evil and have to be turned to stone? I don't see how that can happen when I have a friend like you."

"You know what they say!"

"My better half!" they said together.

"Move over!" Lightning whispered harshly, shoving her friend away from the keyhole. "I want a look!"

"Guys, w-we sh...shouldn't b-b-be doing this!" Maple Cinnamon insisted.

"what? Worried your girlfriend might get mad?" Taco Grandé teased.

"And what are you little ponies up to?"

The group jumped at the sound of Twilight Sparkle's voice.

"We're not little," Thunder grumbled. "We're fifteen."

Lightning nudged him in the side and whispered, "Show some respect." She looked up at the unicorn, "Dinky went to comfort Screwball and we were spying- err, making sure they were okay."

"I tried to talk them out of it," Cinnamon twist said.

"Didn't your parents teach you that it's rude to eavesdrop?" Twilight inquired.

Thunder and lightning hung their heads. "Yes, Aunt Twilight."

"Good. Why don't you all join the others for breakfast? I need to speak with my niece."

The teenagers knew best not to argue. Twilight knocked on the door, startling the two mares inside.

"Yes?" Screwball called.

"Screwy, it's your Aunt Twilight."

"Oh. Come in."

The duchess opened the door. Dinky bowed her head as a force of habit.

"Dinky," Twilight spoke softly, "I need to speak with Screwball alone. Can you get the others not to spy?"

The gray unicorn nodded and left the two alone.

"Am I still in trouble?" Screwball asked.

Instead of answering her question, Twilight simply said, "Follow me."

Screwball had learned long ago that when grown-ups are this ominous, it was wise to listen to them. She put on her propeller hat for good luck before following Twilight.

Twilight led her to a long hallway decorated in colorful stained-glass windows.

"you ever been to this part of the castle?" the alicorn asked.

Screwball shook her head. "Never."

"well, I'm not too surprised. It's not Discord's favorite."

The first window she saw had an image of Discord. "What is this place exactly?"

"This is the hallway leading to the Canterlot Tower, where we keep the Elements of Harmony. The images you see here are moments in history when the Elements were used, along with many other victories."

Screwball counted at least five windows in which her father was depicted. There was one particularly unsettling one showing her father treating a unicorn, a pegasus and an earth pony like marionettes as he dangled them over a fire. The one next to it showed two alicorns circling a white version of her father. She soon deduced that it was Princesses Celestia and Luna turning Discord to stone.

Twilight saw the disturbed expression on the filly's face, and a sudden pang of guilt rang through her heart.

"You gotta understand that your father was out of control then. That was before..."

She guided her to another window, one that was more pleasant. Her father was in this one as well, but so was a yellow pegasus with flowing pink hair. They were running in a field and both looking happy.

"Mom and Dad."

"Beauty tamed the beast," Twilight said with a nod. "Your mama saved Equestria with her Element of Kindness alone. In a way, she saved your father as well."

Screwball stared at the window of her parents for a moment and then looked around at the others. There was one of six ponies battling a dark alicorn. She recognized the heroes as her mother and five aunts

"That was the battle against Nightmare Moon," Twilight explained.

"Oh," Screwball said, remembering the story.

"That's how we all met. If you think about it, if the six of us hadn't recovered the Elements of Harmony that night, we wouldn't have faced Discord a year later, and your parents probably wouldn't have met."

Screwball pointed to the next window. "Is that Uncle Spike?"

Twilight chuckled. "Yeah. That was our victory in the Crystal Empire. He was just a lil baby back then. He's a teen now, just like you!"

"Hey! That's Cadence up there!" She looked at a pink window beside it. "There she is again with Shining Armor!"

"Oh, yes. That was when the two of them used their love to defeat the..."

Twilight trailed off, but Screwball already knew what she was going to say.

"The changelings?"

The alicorn sighed and nodded solemnly. "Screwball, the reason I brought you here is because there is a chance you could be on one of these windows someday. Whether you are depicted as a hero or a villain is up to you."

Screwball's eyes widened as she stared at her godmother. "You think I'm going to turn evil, don't you?"

"All I know is that you have great power, Screwball, and with great power comes great responsibility. Need I remind you of the story of Nightmare Moon?"

"no, I get it. You say I have two choices: being with mothball and being a villain or listening to my family."

" not exactly, but I don't want something like that happening to you."

"It won't!" Screwball insisted. "Why would I ever...?"

"Last night, you lost control of your emotions and used magic against your father."

The younger mare hung her head. "Oh, that. But he was going to hurt Mothball!"

"Mothball? If you don't mind me asking, how do you know him?"

"Well, um...we kind of met as kids and...we became friends and...But he's different! I've felt his heartbeat, I swear! Are you going to tell me to stay away from him too?"

"well... Some Ponies think dragons are born greedy and hateful, but spike wasn't. I think it's a case of nature vs. Nurture. He was raised by queen Chrysalis."

"You know I can tell when ponies are lying, and he hasn't lied to me about being my friend!"

"What do most of these windows have in common, other than the Elements of Harmony?"

Screwball rubbed her chin. "In all of them, a bad guy was defeated?"

"Yes, but how were they defeated?"

"Oh, that. Mom said it was the Magic of Friends?"

"well- I mean, it's the Magic of Friendship, but yes. friendship is one of the most powerful forms of magic. The only thing more powerful was what saved your father."

"My mom?"

"love. True love between creatures is the greatest magic you'll ever find. You may be a being of chaos, Screwball, but you hold such magic in your heart. Never lose sight of it, okay? I don't want you to think there are only two paths for you to take here."

Screwball was a little confused, but then again, Twilight often confused her. She nodded anyway.

"Good," the alicorn said with a smile.

Twilight watched Screwball go with a sigh, wondering if the young mare had understood her lesson. Whenever she had the chance, she would teach Screwball control of her magic and the importance of friendship, hoping it would lead her down the right path. Considering how many friends she had, it seemed there was nothing to worry about.

But now that Screwball was friends with a changeling, and she suspected more, Twilight feared for the young mare. She had a choice between two of the most powerful forms of love, and that's a decision no pony should ever be forced to make.

It was quiet in the Discord household. Not even the baby was up to his usual antics. Discord sat pouting on the couch, his head in his hands. Fluttershy flew up to him and patted his head.

"What's wrong, honey?"

He looked at his wife sadly. "Screwball hasn't spoken to me ever since our fight. She does nothing but sit in her room with the baby!"

"She'll come around soon enough. Or do you want me to call a family meeting?"

He sighed. "No. I'll talk with her myself. Talking to family about your feelings is embarrassing enough."

As if on cue, the door to Screwball's room opened and the filly floated out with her brother in her hooves.

"Mom," she said. "Can I take Zany for a walk in the park? I think we need some fresh air."

Actually, it was mostly her that needed air. She had been feeling very grimy lately.

"But of course, sweetie," Fluttershy said. "I would go with you, but I'm meeting Rarity at the spa."

Screwball looked at her father for a moment. They both opened their mouths to say something, but she placed Zany in a baby buggy and rushed out the door before they could.

"Then we should get our stuff together!" Fluttershy declared. "We'll sort out everything tonight at dinner. Sound good?"

"I guess."

"Okay, I have to go now." She kissed him on the snout. "I love you."

Her kiss made him grin a little. "Fluttershy you're the most important pony I know. I love you too."

As the previous events occur, mothball has retreated from the changeling empire.

Mothball sunk to the clay earth when his legs gave out beneath him. He had flown and walked as far away from the empire as he could. Every joint ached and burned with every ragged breath. The vast expanse of the forest floor was covered in organic shrapnel that clung to his lashed legs.

He had to get out of here and warn Screwball of the next phase of his mother's plan. She and her family were in danger and it was all his fault...

In his time to think, Mothball had at least figured out where he needed to go after helping screwball. Maybe somewhere up in the mountains where he could starve alone, as I should, for what I've done. Mothball shook his head. Maybe in the end, he could live in the Fjords with Screwball, in a warm log cabin, cooking chocolate bars in a pot, the whole house smelling of spices. He'd kiss her gently and nothing would go wrong. All their decorations would be green, plaid, and red, quilts would cover every corner...

"Thank ya for helpin' me out today, Sugar," Applejack said to her daughter as they stood behind the apple cart.

"Well, it was either this or spend the day being sad that the Gala ended early," Autumn Glory giggled.

"yeah, I'd be pretty sad too if'n it wasn't so stuffy in there." Applejack laughed.

Applejack still couldn't help but to lament that she hadn't talked it out with Rarity, but how could she? She loved the mare, but it was impossible to think that Rarity would let her daughter feel how she did about her father...

The cowgirl's ears perked up at the sound of a familiar voice, though it was making unfamiliar noises. It was coming from an alley a few feet away.

"Excuse me, hon," she said to Autumn. "I've got to check something out."

Applejack cautiously walked towards the sound and peered her head around the corner. What she saw made her jaw drop.

"Fluttershy?!"

[serpentandlily]

Lost in a Labyrinth Part III Teaser

Lost in a Labyrinth Part III Teaser

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine.

A/n: guys I thought I’d have a lot more time to write today and I, unfortunately, don’t :(( but here’s another lil sneak peek at what’s to come in the Labyrinth Series!

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part III Teaser

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

…and when he shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world will be in love with night

And pay no worship to the garish sun.

- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The First Attempt

Poison was the easiest and cleanest way to kill somebody. It involved very little effort on your part, just a slip of the hand to pour the poison into their drink when they weren't looking. It usually didn't involve blood or puke unless you got one of the nastier poisons, which you never did anyways. Some of the girls were more sadistic though and well, you couldn't blame them for it.

But while it was the simplest method of killing someone, it was probably one of the harder ones to pull off. First, faeries had very good senses, especially when it came to smell. One sniff of their drink could expose the poison in it, unless you were able to get your hands on one of the odorless ones. Those were more expensive though and Lydia and Keir certainly weren't willing to fund you guys besides your nightly rate from your clients.

However, when you had made a trip to the apothecary in the underbelly of Hewn City, you had begrudgingly forked over the money for one of those clear, odorless poisons. There was no way anything else would get past Azriel and his shadows.

Your heart ached in your chest as you stared at the decanter of whiskey sitting on the bar cart in your pleasure room. Azriel had been kind to you. He had offered you some mercy by buying out your nights and not returning until that fateful meeting at the party. And while he clearly liked being more dominant while bedding you, his touch had been gentle, soft. No one had ever shown you such care and here you were, plotting out his murder.

But you simply had to do this. Freedom was only one dead body away for you. One more hit and you could finally wash your hands of this place, disappear to another court—perhaps one that would allow you to bathe in the sunlight for the rest of your days, something the citizens of Hewn City had never really experienced.

Kill Azriel.

Kill the shadowsinger and you'll be free to go.

Those had been Keir's exact words.

You had killed before. There was a time when your finger was covered in black lines, a new one added every time you didn't have enough money to pay the house fee or enough for food and had to borrow from Lydia. One every time you failed to perform for a client, no matter what they asked of you. But now you were down to one last mark.

One for the Shadowsinger.

One for Azriel.

You let out a sigh, sitting down at your vanity to brush your hair. Azriel was due to show up any moment now. Ever since that night at the party, he had been coming by at this time every single night. He would buy out all the nights Lydia would allow him to before showing up.

He never even made it seem like he expected sex on any given night. Sometimes the two of you would just cuddle in bed, whispering stories to each other about your lives. Sometimes he would come all tense and frustrated with whatever the High Lord had demanded of him. On those nights you would offer to give him a massage and listen to him complain about how much he hated his work. It seemed like the two of you had that in common, at the very least.

You hadn't made any attempts yet. You told yourself it was because you were planning out the best way to kill Azriel. Poison, knives, strangling. There were a multitude of ways to do it. But you knew deep down what the true reason was. You had grown fond of the Shadowsinger. You didn't want to kill him.

But your wants and needs had never really ever agreed with each other your whole life.

So here you were. Waiting for Azriel to come so you could poison him and be done with this Gods awful place. You wanted out of the labyrinth and unfortunately, this was the only way.

No matter how much you liked Azriel, he was the one standing in the way of your freedom.

[seitmai]

Everyone knew that they shouldn't talk about it in front of him for fear that the ladies would snap their necks. Even Nat was being very kind and considerate which wasn't really like her at all. 

They 100% would

He didn't know how to respond, so he just kept walking. He had no idea what to say or what to think. It wasn't like he could stop loving someone overnight. He didn't really want to either. Anna's life was quite frankly messier than he had ever expected. She did a pretty good job of hiding it from everyone, and it seemed like she would have continued down that path if they didn't have sex. And that was the other issue; it wasn't just sex to Bob. Anna knew about the things he tried to hide himself, and she seemed to want him in that moment anyway.

😭💔😭💔

But I'll never see them on my shelf,

Unless you come back and stay this time.

He said it once and says it again, she can't keep running, be he will be there 🥺

"Has Bob said anything about me?" Both of them looked at her, and she quickly added, "I can't stop thinking about him." Jessica smiled softly and said, "Not a word, but I've never seen him look so sad. And I mean that in a good way, because although I know he's confused and hurt, I'm pretty sure he just misses you."

They truly are each others missing puzzle piece🥺

"I could kill someone," Jessica muttered under her breath, and truly Anna almost laughed, because Jessica Reed was one of the gentlest people she'd ever met. The most violent thing about her was her Dungeons & Dragons character. "I could at least probably slap him."

Hahah I loved the whole conversation and how supportive they are 🫶🏻 Especially thay Jessica's first reaction is to kill Kevin almost killed me 😂

Nat scoffed when he told her where he was going, and he truly did appreciate that his friend wanted him to proceed with caution, but she just didn't understand how Anna made him feel. Being friends with her after sleeping together a total of one time might kill him, but he knew that was probably all he could have now.

I love Nat and I get that she is protective but damn what's up with her? I once again am on my agenda to find an academic lover for Nat haha

As he got closer to the loft railing, he saw her glance up and meet his eyes like it was some depraved version of Romeo and Juliet.

They really go through all the tragic/dramatic love stories, first Cinderella now Romeo and Juliet, what's next? 🤔

"I do need some more books for my shelves," he replied, and her eyes finally settled on his again. "And you don't have to be nervous around me. I know you're dealing with a lot, and I promise I won't touch you or anything."

I literally wanna cry about how considerate Bob is 🥰😭

Now she just looked sad and distraught, but she nodded and turned down the very aisle where they first met. Bob had to fight to keep a few feet of space between them as she said, "I'm looking for Mary Wollstonecraft, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, and Elizabeth Cady Stanton."

I didn't look quite as sad and distraught as Anna but certainly surprised reading those names, because I literally had to study them for an exam yesterday lol

"Will you let me drive you home? Not because I think I need to, but because I want to?"

I would melt

"I'm going to deal with my shit. I promise." Unsure exactly how he should respond, Bob simply said, "Okay."

This is such a simple and short conversation, but it's so meaningful 😭

She hated him. She hated him so much, she was going to call him right now.

Wow Anna you are so much better than me. Calling someone is already a no only if I really really have to/it's and emergency. Calling someone I hate? Fuck no, never. So good for you girl 👏🏻

The bite was gone from his voice, replaced by a lazy tone, and he spoke to her as if she were a very simple child. "It's not going to happen, Anna. I didn't cut off access to it for no reason. It's worth money. You can pay me for it, or you can kiss it goodbye. I might even publish it myself."

If his words alone wouldn't enrage me, the change is tone? Fucking furious 😤🤬 Jessica, lets go, let's follow your plan!

Covering the Classics Part 12 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Anna noticed that a new poem by her favorite, amateur writer had been posted, she was afraid to read the finality in his tone. But Bob always managed to surprise her. And maybe she could find a way to surprise Kevin, too.

Warnings: Angst, Kevin is a dick, adult language, 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

After that, it was radio silence. Anna didn't reach out to Bob, and he didn't try to either. He went to the Hard Deck on Friday night and lasted about an hour before excusing himself. Nobody asked him why he was bailing after one ginger ale and a single cup of peanuts, and that was enough to tell him that everyone knew. Everyone knew he slept with Anna. Everyone knew she was married. Everyone knew that they shouldn't talk about it in front of him for fear that the ladies would snap their necks. Even Nat was being very kind and considerate which wasn't really like her at all. 

When Bob was halfway to the door, he felt a small hand curl around the back of his bicep. "I'll see you tomorrow night for D&D?"

He nodded down at Jessica's hopeful face. "Yeah. I can pick you up if you want."

Her face brightened a little bit. "I'll text you in the morning." He turned to walk out, and her hand slid down his arm. "Hey, Bob? Don't give up hope on her, okay?"

He didn't know how to respond, so he just kept walking. He had no idea what to say or what to think. It wasn't like he could stop loving someone overnight. He didn't really want to either. Anna's life was quite frankly messier than he had ever expected. She did a pretty good job of hiding it from everyone, and it seemed like she would have continued down that path if they didn't have sex. And that was the other issue; it wasn't just sex to Bob. Anna knew about the things he tried to hide himself, and she seemed to want him in that moment anyway. 

Her words from the previous night made him ache. 

'You're perfect. You're Sky Writing. You're the handsome man from the bookstore who smells like tea and soap. You're Bob, the guy my friends knew I would fall in love with as soon as I met them.'

If that meant she was in love with him or that she thought she could be someday, then he was afraid to walk away from her. But now he was terrified of getting hurt or somehow hurting Anna like Kevin had. Part of him believed if he could just see Anna's husband with his own eyes, confirm that he was exactly the way she described him, then he might be able accept that she just needed time to settle her divorce and to heal. If that was the case, he wanted to make it work. 

In the meantime, when he got home, he ended up standing in his living room, staring at his bookshelf before going upstairs and staring at his bed. He could still picture her red hair all spread out for him. He could still feel it between his fingers as the silky strands slid along his palm. He could taste her on his tongue. He could hear her telling him what she wanted.

Bob picked up his computer and slipped under the covers, knowing he wasn't going to be able to sleep right now.

----------------------------

It had been there since early Saturday morning. A new one. Anna desperately wanted to read it and memorize it like she had the others, but she was afraid to face the finality. Her email alert mocked her every time she looked at it.

Sky Writing has posted a new, original work! Click the link below to check out the subscriber that you follow!

Bob wrote a new poem, and she didn't think she could handle reading exactly how he viewed her now. He'd never be like Kevin, openly belittling her or putting her down, but she knew the shiny packaging had been removed now, and he saw what was really inside. Just a mess of a human. She put off reading it and put off reading it, but when she was sitting at her desk at work on Monday, she made herself decide between reading the new poem or calling Kevin. After a fairly short debate, she decided to read the poem. It was probably so bad, calling Kevin later wouldn't even feel painful in comparison. 

She tapped on the link in her email and was taken to something so unexpected, she gasped as she read it.

There is empty space on my bookshelf,

The one I bought with you in mind.

I didn't know it was for you at the time,

But one night made it obvious,

Before an instance took it.

Reality surpassed intention today.

Your worn favorites and mine pristine,

Should mingle and mix,

Genre forgotten.

Dog eared pages became so endearing.

But I'll never see them on my shelf,

Unless you come back and stay this time.

The format was different from what he usually wrote, but it was so obviously Sky Writing. So obviously Bob. So obviously about her. And he didn't sound angry. Could he possibly miss her after everything she did and said?

She jumped when her phone vibrated on her desk, and for a split second, she believed it could be Bob. Her heart beat faster with anticipation, but it was from somebody else.

Jessica Reed: If you don't come down to this weird tree right now, we're going to come up and get you.

Anna had lost track of time. It was after noon now. She knew that her friends were trying to make sure she was holding herself together after she refused to go to the Hard Deck over the weekend. How could she continue to go somewhere that Bob had the rights to first? It wasn't until she read his Sky Writing poem that she thought perhaps there was a chance he might not only be okay with her presence but perhaps even miss her like she missed him.

With her sad little lunch in hand, she dragged herself down to the quad, trying to decide when was the best time to call Kevin. She was tired of going through lawyers who couldn't seem to get him to budge, and each ninety day window just ate away at more of her soul. She should have been so much more careful with her writing when she had the opportunity, and now he'd completely locked her out of being able to access it. 

No, she was going to have to beg him, plead with him, anything it took to get what she wanted without giving away where she'd moved. Maybe if he agreed to let her have her manuscript, one of her friends would let her borrow money for a flight back to New Jersey to retrieve it. She was getting ahead of herself, but she couldn't help it. She needed to at least get this one thing.

"There she is!"

Anna looked up to see her friends directly in front of her on the bench by the tree, and the fact that they both looked happy to see her made her heart ache. "Hi," she said softly as she sat down between them when they both scooted over.

"Hummus?" her friend asked, passing along a container while she bit into her perfect looking chicken salad sandwich on artisan bread. Anna accepted a few bites of Bradley's gourmet snack, because she was absolutely starving today.

"Thanks," she murmured, and she let herself sink into the background a little bit as the two other women continued the conversation they'd been having. Now that she was down here with his friends, she couldn't stop thinking about Bob again. His soft hair and his kind eyes. The way he always paid attention to her when she was talking. How good he made her feel.

She listened to her friends argue about alumni weekend for a few minutes before she finally cut them off to ask, "Has Bob said anything about me?" Both of them looked at her, and she quickly added, "I can't stop thinking about him."

Jessica smiled softly and said, "Not a word, but I've never seen him look so sad. And I mean that in a good way, because although I know he's confused and hurt, I'm pretty sure he just misses you."

"But," the other woman quickly cut in, "the most important thing right now is making sure you take care of yourself. Even if you are in love with Bob."

"Oh!" Jessica exclaimed. "I have an idea! We could just kill Kevin!"

Anna snorted in spite of herself. "That would actually solve a lot of my problems. Maybe even all of them."

"Only one problem with that," Advanced Calculus said blandly. "You're not a killer, Jessica."

"I could kill someone," Jessica muttered under her breath, and truly Anna almost laughed, because Jessica Reed was one of the gentlest people she'd ever met. The most violent thing about her was her Dungeons & Dragons character. "I could at least probably slap him."

"He wouldn't know what hit him," Anna said, and all three women erupted into laughter. And it felt so strange to feel genuine happiness, even if it only lasted for a few seconds, that Anna almost started crying. As their amusement died down, she asked her friends, "Do you think.... Bob would respond if I texted him?"

Jessica squeaked, and then both women said, "Yes."

---------------------------

Bob was back to square one. Back at the bookstore. He was fifteen minutes early. He was already looking through the Classics. He was about to meet up with Anna. He was nervous.

Nat scoffed when he told her where he was going, and he truly did appreciate that his friend wanted him to proceed with caution, but she just didn't understand how Anna made him feel. Being friends with her after sleeping together a total of one time might kill him, but he knew that was probably all he could have now.

It was almost like he could sense that she was there. He looked up from the Shakespeare volume in his hand, and he saw her walk in the door. As he got closer to the loft railing, he saw her glance up and meet his eyes like it was some depraved version of Romeo and Juliet. She mouthed the word Hi before she headed for the stairs, and in less than a minute, she was standing right in front of him. 

Anna looked nervous, but everything else was just the same. Those perfect freckles decorated her face. Her brown eyes were bright. Her pretty hair was in a messy braid. He saw her burgundy nail polish as she fidgeted with her denim jacket. He wanted to know if she still thought he was the kind of person she could love. He wanted to ask her if her husband was any closer to signing papers. Instead he said, "I was surprised when you texted me."

Her eyes went wide, and he wished he could shove his foot in his mouth as she started looking around anywhere but at his face. "I need some books for my feminist literature course, and I just thought maybe you'd like more books for your bookshelf."

Had she read his newest poem? It was a sloppy one that he wrote late on Friday night and posted on a whim. She could have deleted her account by now or vowed never to read anything else by Sky Writing. But that didn't stop the poem from being about her.

"I do need some more books for my shelves," he replied, and her eyes finally settled on his again. "And you don't have to be nervous around me. I know you're dealing with a lot, and I promise I won't touch you or anything."

Now she just looked sad and distraught, but she nodded and turned down the very aisle where they first met. Bob had to fight to keep a few feet of space between them as she said, "I'm looking for Mary Wollstonecraft, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, and Elizabeth Cady Stanton."

They worked their way slowly up and back down each aisle, falling into a natural conversation in spite of the awkwardness between them. In spite of the way Bob couldn't keep himself from looking at her as she ran her fingers along the spines. When she wanted something that was on a top shelf, he reached it down for her. When her hands got full, he offered his up for her use. And to his delight and also sadness, she kept recommending books for him along the way. That's how he ended up with Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day as well as The Importance of Being Earnest in his hand when she led the way downstairs to pay.

Bob cleared his throat as Anna reached into her pocket for some cash. "I can get them."

Her brown eyes snapped up to meet his, and her cheeks turned pink. He already knew what Kevin did, and while he didn't think there was any harm in saying it, he could tell that she at least had her pride intact. "The college is going to reimburse me," she said firmly before handing forty dollars across the counter.

"Right," Bob said before paying for his own books. When they walked out into the fading sunlight, he looked down into her pretty face. "Will you let me drive you home? Not because I think I need to, but because I want to?"

She seemed at war with herself as she looked across the street and pressed her lips together. But her eyes fluttered closed and she said, "I would really appreciate that."

The interior of his truck was quiet the whole way as their books sat on the seat between them. Only the soft hum of the radio helped Bob hold his thoughts at bay. The ride wasn't too long, and when they were most of the way there, Anna finally spoke. 

"I'm going to deal with my shit. I promise."

Unsure exactly how he should respond, Bob simply said, "Okay."

When he pulled up in front of her building, he turned toward her, intending to ask if she wanted him to walk her up, but she was gathering her books together as she said, "I don't know how you feel about me now. I don't know if you could want me again. But I am going to deal with Kevin. I am going to fix my life. Because I want to move on. I need to." When he was so flustered that he didn't immediately respond, Anna said, "You know where to find me. Thanks for the ride."

He watched her run up the sidewalk before struggling to open the door with her arms full, and then she ducked inside when he finally figured out what he wanted to say. "I'll find you."

-------------------------------

If Anna even had a hope or a prayer at a chance with Bob ever again, she needed to work up the nerve. A real chance with him now that he knew all about her disastrous marriage was what she wanted, but she needed to sort Kevin out first. 

As far as she could tell, everything came down to two options: keep her freedom by giving Kevin ownership of her manuscript, or keep her self worth by fighting until she didn't have anything left to give up. And both of them sounded terrifying. The whole weekend passed where she tried so many times to call him. She took her phone out again and again, let her thumb hover over her husband's phone number, and then chickened out. His voice was like a distant memory, and she didn't want to bring it back to the forefront of her mind. He hadn't reached out one time since she up and left without telling him where she was going, and she was afraid to let him know where she was now.

The worst part was, he would know immediately why she was calling. He knew that he had the one thing she wanted. He cut off her access to the cloud files where she should have been able to piece her writing back together. It would have been time consuming, but she would have been all too happy to do it. She should have known better than to let him have so much of her life and so many of her resources in only his name, but there was a time when she trusted him. That was the part that made her so sick. She had trusted her husband, and now look where it got her.

A shiver went through her body as she woke up for work too early on Monday morning. She wanted Kevin's computer where everything was saved. She wanted access to the cloud. She didn't want a damn penny from him otherwise. She was aggressively brushing her teeth, wishing she had more to eat than a granola bar when she spit out her toothpaste and rinsed her mouth.

She hated him. She hated him so much, she was going to call him right now. Without a backward glance, she marched over to where her phone was charging and pulled the cable out. Before she could even think about exactly what she was going to say, she tapped on his stupid name.

Anna was breathing fast and deep, her heart pounding in her ears when she heard his voice for the first time in so many months.

"Anna?" he asked, her whole body cringing after just one word. His voice was scratchy as if she had woken him up, but it was 9:16 in New Jersey. He should be on his way to work if not there already.

"Kevin," she snapped, gripping her phone tighter. She was getting angrier by the second as she listened to him yawn while she looked around her tiny apartment.

His tone was condescending as he said, "Of course you'd call me at six in the fucking morning after I haven't hear a word from you except through a lawyer since July. What the hell do you want?"

She couldn't do this. She couldn't talk to him. While she felt strong a few minutes ago, her resolve was already crumbling. She wanted to tell him that he knew damn well what she wanted, but then she zeroed in on what he said. "What do you mean it's six in the morning? It's after nine."

His voice was suddenly loud and harsh. "I meant exactly what I said. I'm in California for a medical convention. Now get to the point of your call."

Her mouth felt like sandpaper as she carefully put her phone on speaker. She started searching for Neurological conventions in California while she told him, "I just want my manuscript. Please, Kevin. That's all I want, and then you can be rid of me."

The bite was gone from his voice, replaced by a lazy tone, and he spoke to her as if she were a very simple child. "It's not going to happen, Anna. I didn't cut off access to it for no reason. It's worth money. You can pay me for it, or you can kiss it goodbye. I might even publish it myself."

She was gasping for air as she scrolled through her search results, coming up with a conference in Carlsbad that was starting today. As the page loaded, she swallowed and told him, "I'll sue you if you do." But even she knew she was full of shit.

"What what money, Anna? I'm surprised you can still afford your lawyers. I don't even want to know what you're doing to make ends meet right now."

Then she saw it. She saw his name. He was a keynote speaker at the National Neurological Physicians Association conference. He was less than an hour away. She sank down to her knees in surprise and fear. Her mind was swirling with information and ideas, and she couldn't even comprehend what Kevin was saying now.

"What?" she gasped.

"I said come up with some money for me, or I'm not signing shit." Then he ended the call as her hands started shaking. She dropped her phone onto her bed. He was in Carlsbad. Maybe she could surprise him. Maybe she could talk him into it easier in person.

Anna had to run to the bathroom to be sick, but her mind was made up. Once she cleaned herself up again, she tearfully made the decision to cancel her morning classes via email, and then she started grabbing her purse and her essentials. She folded up the newest copy of the divorce paperwork her lawyer had emailed to her and tucked it away. Then she ran for the bus stop, nearly tripping several times as she read through the schedule of speakers who were at the conference this week on her phone. If she caught a bus within the next fifteen minutes, she might make it in time to see Kevin right before he gave his welcome speech.

---------------------------

We will meet Kevin in the next chapter. Now is an acceptable time to start sharpening your knives. Bob, please don't give up on Anna. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

@thedroneranger

@theamuz

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@yuckosworld

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@avaleineandafryingpan

@t-nd-rfoot

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@sio-ina-bottle

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@novastories

@xoxabs88xox

@rileyanntoinette

@mannsachds

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@lovingrobertfloyd

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@paintlavillered

@seitmai

@noonenuts

@amiets2

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@lonelysoul50

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@cruelmissdior

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@angelbabyange

@eternallyvenus

@sgt-barnesveins

@kmc1989

@libbyaller

[thesecrimsonstrings-if]

You know how you said that Juliette's route is heavily inspired by Romeo and Juliet,, can you write a scenario on that? With Tachibana too,, if you don't mind

sugiwara was not the kind of person who dreamt of a world anew. in fact, they were happy enough with the reality of everything they were living in. it was perhaps this fatalistic nature of theirs that made people like them. they knew that no matter what the consequences, sugiwara wouldn't be the type to try and change the outcome of those events.

maybe that would've stayed the case if they didn't meet the person who would make this attitude of theirs turnaround completely. well, that was not exactly the case when they first met though.

“a blood-sucker in the village,” sugiwara spat out, disgusted. “i suggest you leave as soon as you can. my... colleagues may not be as lenient as me.”

“oh?” you raise a questioning eyebrow. “and is there a reason for such leniency, when i've heard that you've shown none to anyone else?”

how was sugiwara to explain that even if they had hated your nature with every fibre of their being, the thought of killing you just did not sit right with them. the hunter left you with more questions than answers, and you could do nothing but look for them.

it was a dangerous game that you were playing. what if sugiwara had lost their patience with you at any moment and decided that killing you off would save them from the headache you give them on the daily? but with the way their cheeks turned pink with your flirtatious smile, and the way you hear their heart beat louder in their chest with your subtle touches, and the way their eyes seem to subconsciously follow your every move in an effort to not lose track of you, you could have been sure that you meant more to them than just a mere supernatural prey.

“kiss me,” you ask, no, demand of them one night. the saké is getting to you, making you say things that you were usually hesitant to say when sober. “kiss me so that i know that you're real.”

the hunter stares at you, slack-jawed. they never expected you to outright say that! good heavens, this was embarassing. however...

their eyes look a tad bit softer and fonder as they look over your utterly foolish, yet mesmerising self. “i'm right here and you better get some sleep before i toss you outside in the cold.”

you smile to yourself. they were real, alright. in all their sweet and sour glory.

the conflict between the hunters and the supernaturals didn't subside in japan. if you had to say something about it, you'd say that it had gotten worse than you'd have expected it to be. supernaturals ending up dead. hunters going missing in action during their duties.

sugiwara was there with you through it all, though. they didn't show it outright but they were ready to vouch for you if the need ever arises. their group trusted them enough to believe they wouldn't be harbouring a supernatural with them, let alone a vampire.

“you have no intention of leaving?” you ask them one day as you both sit on top of their roof.

the hunter shakes their head, hugging their knees closer. “this village is my home and leaving when they need me the most is nothing short of a betrayal.”

you understood the sentiment, of course you did. but it didn't ease up the pain in your heart anyway.

“hey,” sugiwara calls out, looking at you with a small smile. your heart can't help skipping at the sight of it. “if you're planning on leaving sometime soon, can i ask for one thing?”

“of course,” you say with no hesitance whatsoever.

then, with a speed that has you flabbergasted, they press their lips against yours. you almost choke in your surprise, but keep yourself from doing so as you find enough strength in your hands to cup their face and kiss them back.

gods know how long they had been holding back. fearing they'd alienate you from them, that you'd find their affection for you disgusting. most of all, they feared how everyone else might think of their love for you. but now? while they wouldn't lie and say that those fears have completely vanished, they have enough courage to finally follow their heart.

as for you? with your first kiss, you had decided that you could never leave them. you had memorised the very pattern of every beat of their heart. you had taken a hold of their heart and made a promise to cherish it forever. your brave hunter. your darling hero. how you had not regretted even a second of falling for them.

sugiwara would have fought the whole of japan to keep you safe from harm. they'd burn through vengeance and terror and warfare, burn through everything that fuels the human heart and sears it red, burn through everything that covers the outside with hard muscle and tough sinew. for their love was as undying as the power of a million eternal starlit skies.

“[reiko/renjiro] sugiwara. i love you. i love you. i love you.”

“and i am in love with you, {real_name}.”

“to have and to hold, where even death cannot part us.”

“in this life and the next. for however long our souls remain, mine will always find yours.”

those were the last works you spoke as the fire that blazes in the village consumed sugiwara. you couldn't accept them dying on their own, not when there was nothing you could do to save them. were you just an immortal fool to think death would come easy? that you'd be free of this wretched existence and follow wherever sugiwara went? you... you just couldn't. and you hated yourself all the more for it.

so you ran away, away from your memories, away from the place that will always remind you of something that broke your heart in pieces that cannot be put together ever again.

war rages on. prejudices remain. supernatural unions arise to ensure peace between humans and non-humans. and within all of those, the supernaturals and hunters alike, tell the tale of sugiwara and the vampire like some folk song passed between vendors on their breaks. they speak of those two as the ones who had dared to dream. and for that, in an era consumed by hatred and nightmares, they were cut down without mercy.

and yet how, as the chapter of their story ended, they loved each other so deeply that the remnants remained in the hearts of those who knew them.

[rxally-borxng]

I need to know...

Why is there so much people thinking that Camila is a really bad mother?

a) Because she wanted to send Luz to the summer camp?

In Camila's defense, Luz had brought snakes to school. And released a bunch of spiders in the middle of the class. And she probably gave a heart attack to her drama teacher with her interpretation of Romeo and Juliet... Let's be honest guys, Luz was a little problematic back on Earth; and most important than that is the fact that she didn't have friends.

Thinking about my own summer camp experiences, you usually make friends in one of those. You open up to new experiences, learn a bunch stuff and grow as a person; and yes, I'm not going to denied that maybe sending your daugther to a "Think inside the box" camp is a bad idea, but Camila didn't do it because she wanted to erase Luz's creativity or something like that. She was worried and running out of options (Because, again, Luz in the first episodes was a little problematic)

b) Because she didn't wait for the bus with her daughter?

She... She had to work.

That's it, that's everything I have to say here.

And then, when she didn't have to work, she decided to spend her free time driving her daughter to the summer camp. She didn't need to, but she wanted to do it.

c) Because she didn't recongnize her daughter when V used her appearence?

Sorry about this one, but I'm going to get a little angry here. Ejem...

V IS A FRICKING BASILISK!

You can't expect Camila (a human who doesn't believe in magic, sci-fi, fairy tales, etc) look at V and think "This is clearly a fake Luz" when V looks like Luz, speaks with Luz's voice, dresses with Luz's clothes and behave a little strange... Just like Luz at the beggining. And yes, she noticed that something wasn't right after the summer camp, but that's the thing: Luz had come from the summer camp. A lot of thing can change in a few months, especially when you're a teenager!

So yeah, it doesn't make any sense to call Camila a bad mother for this, at least to me.

d) Because she has made Luz promise to come back and stay with her?

Okay, first of all: look at her when she's asking this. Just, look at her.

She's desperate. She doesn't want to let Luz go, she thinks that Luz chose to run away from her and most important, it looks like she doesn't know all the context of the situation. If she had known, she wouldn't have been so hurt when Luz told her that she decided to stay on the Boiling Isles. And let's not forget about the fact that V was trapped when Luz was explaining about the Boiling Isles, so we can assumed that Luz probably told her a vanilla Boiling Isles' experience. That, with Luz starting to dissapear and the fear of not be able to see or touch her daughter again, is what made Camila said what she said. She's being a bit selfish, but again, she's a scared mother who loves her daughter and is trying to understand what is going on.

The thing is... You can dislike Camila, but she's not a bad mother, especially not an abusive one. She made a few mistakes, but Eda too and I don't see people going to her throat for that. If you want to see the bad parental figures... Heck, you have fricking Alador and Odalia Blight, Emperor Belos (if we consider him Hunter's parental figure), even Gwendolyn with Lilith! But Camila? Sorry guys, but Camila is not part of this group