you're dancing with your enemy, but you're slowly falling in love [ dark academia playlist ]

Just made a Discord server for the channel! Feel free to join here: discord.gg/JgwuB25sUE

*slowly caresses homework "We're gonna be up all night long."

“In order to understand the world, one has to turn away from it on occasion."

I love the random names of these playlists. I think, "Why not?" and then I hit play.

i often think my soulmate has died i don’t feel love i don’t think i ever will i dream and fantasize about it but that’s all it is a fantasy i’m rarely present on this planet always in my head in a dark dream world alone with someone a shadow figure casted by candlelight that moves sporadically as if, their life would be blown out with one breath along with any faint light this is who i believe to be my soulmate i would’ve been loved by now, if they were still roaming the grounds i can feel but they aren’t and i can’t a part of them must stay with me now taunting me reminding me that they are only a shadow with no face or name living through every candle i light, that warmth is the only thing i can feel my cheeks turn cherry, skin clammy and warm eyes teary from smoke fingertips blistered and burnt, the way a flame does things to me no being ever could. maybe when i was given life, my soul forgot to spilt into two or maybe it did… but, was so comfortable staying a shadow only showing itself when it knew i wanted it to appear so, every night i burn a candle until it dies out on its own and every night, it leaves me. part of me hopes that maybe, i will light my last candle and my second soul will fly up, shadows will dance around the cold sky and the wind will transfer the light into another being, one that was soulless, now filled with my love and i will carry a candle waiting for it to be lit, by my soulmate.

“It’s only one dance.” That’s what Caligo had told himself. If his father thought this could be the way to bridge the gap between the two kingdoms, then by all means he would do his part. It didn’t mean he’d like it though. Except he did. And it was their third dance that evening. What had gotten into him? She had. This deranged princess had crawled under his skin with her sharp red nails and carved her name into his soul. What a way to go. Her pupils were constricted despite the low light that enfolded the room. Not a trace of humanity was found in them. The only thing emanating from her was a hatred that burned brighter and more dangerous as the dances went on. There are two feelings that breed curiosity; love and hate. And he couldn’t say he hated her. Why did she keep dancing with him? Where was the dagger hidden? And would he be able to stay alive when the thought of dying by her hands was tempting him beyond all reason? “Wait a little longer.” he whispered, pulling her closer to him. “Not yet. I haven’t loved you like I want to.” He hadn’t expected compliance, but she softened her step and looked him in the eye. Her hand trailed from his shoulder to his chest. She tapped her fingers lightly above his heart, circling it. “Revenge can be patient.” Her voice was soft and sweet, melodic, dripping with honey. In a moment, he began to wonder how he had hated her, feared her even. For, how can a madman not love insanity when it stands before him in the shape of a woman.

“Oh, to experience it again. The fascinating feelings of real love. Not the false kind that you fall into when you are taunted by boredom. Oh, no. I mean the kind that turns even the toughest of souls into a glass container holding fire, melting its very own edges and forming a new case fit for two.”

To the person reading this, Good Luck! Don't stress, everything will be fine. No matter what difficulty you are facing right now, you can overcome it! You are strong and brave

Listening to sad, sentimental music feels like immersing oneself in a sea of emotions, each wave crashing against the shore of the heart, leaving behind a trail of poignant memories and introspective thoughts

I sat there with a drink in my hand...watching my best friend dance with her partner with a smile on my face. She seemed very happy... And I loved watching her smile. I shifted my gaze to the man that sat at the other end of hall. The man I despised with all my heart. Or so I hoped. He looked wonderful as always. With a suit as black as his hair with golden linings. He wore his dashing smile that showcased his dimples. Every woman that looked at him would turn red. I hated him. At least I thought I did. These past few weeks that I spend with him made me realize that he wasn't the cocky,mean and cruel prince I thought he was. I naturally hated him as he was the prince of the enemy kingdom. But then father put forward an alliance. He came to the castle very often after that. He always iritated me. And he enjoyed it. I enjoyed bickering with him too. But then I realised that he was actually a very caring and sweet man. He cared for his people. He is just beautiful. In every way a person can be beautiful. I suddenly became aware of the thoughts in my head and told myself to shut up. I turned to look at him again but he had dissapeared. "You look stunning princess." His deep voice sent shivers down my spine. I turned to see my enemy with that sly smile of his plastered on his face. "What do I owe this displeasure, your highness?" I said disguising myself with a confident tone. He put his hand over his chest and said "ouch,that hurt. I sometimes forget that underneath this gorgeous woman is a bratty princess" I chuckled and said "I'll take that as a compliment" He smiled and held out his hand "May I,the handsome displeasure have this dance?" "Why,yes you may" I heard myself answer. What was I doing. My enemy,my nemesis,my rival. The man that I once dispised with my whole heart was now dragging me to the dance floor. The worst part was that, I did not hate it one bit. Before I could even process what was happening, he grabbed me by my waist and pulled me close. I almost let out a gasp. But I was too stubborn to let him know how much of a nervous wreck I was by his touch. I could not believe myself. I the princess, I the brave warrior who had fought so many battles and had won almost every one of them. I the brave woman who feared no one. Was trying to slow down her heart beating at the sight of this man. He and I waltzed around the ballroom and it was obvious that every single person in the room were staring at us. I cannot imagine how histerical the sight must've been... The princess and the prince of the enemy kingdom dancing together. But we didn't care. None of it mattered. At that moment, it was just the two of us and our racing hearts. " Did I mention you look stunning?cuz you do." "Careful your highness, two compliments in a row. We might just become friends." He chuckled and said "Oh we could never be friends. Trust me, I've tried to see you as a friend." "It didn't work,did it?" I said smiling at the memory of our constant banters. "I thought it did. But with the way my heart races when I look at you, I'm sure as hell that it will never work" I tried to calm myself down after I heard those words. My heart was beating so fast that I almost choked. I tried not to make it obvious how much of an impact his words made on me. I looked into his deep brown eyes and my efforts seemed to go to waste. I was staring for far too long. I couldn't help it. He was so beautiful. "Careful princess, if you keep looking at me like that, you might just fall in love" He said smirking. I scoffed and said "In your dreams prince" "We'll see about that." He dipped me against floor and as I straightened and looked at his sweet face once again,I realised that I was in fact falling for him. I was hopelessly falling in love with this man. And that scared me. But oh, I didn't care one bit...I smiled as we stayed with each other in our arms. And the world somehow seemed to have stopped.....

these comments are so deep, im going to cry

“I dance with souls not bodies”

YESSS WE GOT AN ENEMIES TO LOVERS PLAYLIST! ❤❤

(A short story (scene) for you guys to read if you have nothing to do) My chest burned. My hatred for him lived like wildfire throughout me. I hated him so, that I had initially forgotten the particular reason why I had. He took my hand in his, and I gritted my teeth. I should’ve never accepted to dance with him, though what else could’ve I done? Many eyes were on me, on us. Perhaps appearance was why I had said yes. It was just us two on the dance floor. I felt uneasy from the chatter, the whispers. It felt as though each person was commenting how lousy of a dancer I was, how a pin in my hair was misplaced. Or perhaps how my shoes were untidy for such an occasion. His hand held on the small of my back and I felt him pull. “You’re alright, y/n.” I shivered and pulled away “Don’t do that.” “Do what?” He grinned. I rolled my eyes. After a moment his gaze softened. “You know you’re the prettiest woman in here? Don’t think so harshly of yourself.” “I’m not.” He ignored. “But you are. Just squeeze my hand if it becomes too much. I’ll take you somewhere. Anywhere but here. If that’s what you want.” I angrily looked away. Only then I realized, I hated him for all the wrong reasons. I hated the way he looked at me. I hated the way my body reacted when he touched me. I hated his stupid smile and his stupid attitude. “I hate you.” (Thank you Helder for this playlist💕💕💕🫶🏿🫶🏿🫶🏿)

Dance with the prince, Owen had asked me, distract him for a while until he and the others can get past the shielded room and take what we need. So I did. I walked up to him and whispered in his ears, I was close enough for my shoulder to rest on his chest for a moment and I instantly knew it was a mistake. “Will you dance with me, Prince Killian?” His voice came rough, but his face remained calm as he gazed at me with suspect “I am no dancer.” “Humor me.” I smiled and took his hand in mine before he could walk away. His eyes were ones of a predator, following my every move with a strange hunger, I held his fingers with mine, unable to fully embrace his hand. and as if he suspected something was off, he glanced around, Owen nowhere to be seen. “Princess-“ he tried to reject and I quickly led him to the dance floor where the light of the stars reflected in a symphony as equally beautiful as the music being played in the air by some magic spell I had yet to learn. He grabbed my hand tighter and turned me towards his arms, his finger slid down my spine as a single drop of cold rain until he settled his palm on my lower back. His other hand slightly lifted up with my own. I hoped he could not hear the increasing beat of my heart as I put my hand on his shoulder, the feel of the leather was less distracting, unlike his skin on mine. His lips twisted into a cruel smile that created thunder in my soul. “I am offended by how you think you can fool me princess.” He pulled me towards him closing the distance between our bodies, then tourned us around the marble floor. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” I managed to say, trying to focus on our steps and stay composed but as soon as his fingers traced circles and lines on my bare back, I gasped, the light of the stars and the music and murmuring of the party all blurred into a forgotten fog. His face remained neutral, but I could see the amusement in his coal noble eyes. “I will pay for this dance a great price.” He leaned in to whisper, his breath warm on my neck “The sword is not in my room” he smirked. I tried to turn and warn Owen, but his hands were still holding me tight. There was something of quiet desperation as he softened his grip and said “One more dance, princess, and I will hand you the sword myself."

i play your playlists daily when playing chess , studiying or even sleeping . it really helps me to be productive as much as possible .

In one of the narrow alleys of Italy, under the radiant moonlight, the echoes of footsteps reverberated off the ancient walls. She had him cornered from all sides, feeling victory within her grasp. She looked at him with resolute eyes and spoke in a firm tone, "Don't you intend to surrender yourself, Andrik? Aren't you tired of constantly running and hiding?" Andrik laughed, his laughter carrying a mixture of mockery and sorrow. His dark locks swayed gently in the light breeze, reflecting the turmoil in his heart and the burning ache within his chest. Her question was like an arrow piercing his heart. He looked at her beautiful face and gazed into her eyes with a glint that concealed a pain she could not comprehend. In a tone she had never heard before, filled with mystery and longing, he said, "I think I did long ago. Yes, my captain, I do not tire of running and hiding because it's the only way to reach you. If I stopped running, you would stop chasing me." Those words carried a bitter truth. Her heart trembled for a moment as if struck by lightning. She had pursued him with determination and resolve, but she had not realized that this chase was leading her to an unexpected place. She thought her job was to capture him, but she hadn't grasped that her feelings had taken an unexpected turn. She stood for a moment, contemplating his words. There was something in his gaze that drew her in, something she couldn't resist. They were enemies, but in that moment, she felt they were closer than she had ever imagined. The night, the wind, and the faint sounds of the city bore witness to the birth of something new between them, something deeper and more complex than a mere chase between a cop and a mafia boss. As they gazed into each other's eyes, Fiona found herself lost in the depths of his gaze, like shores that knew how to draw her in and play with her as they pleased. Suddenly, her colleague, the policeman, came from behind and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Fiona! Shoot him, aim for his legs! Take him down! What are you waiting for?!" She turned to her colleague, a burning lump in her throat, standing there, her spirit in turmoil. A strange confusion swirled inside her, she didn't know where to fix her gaze. She was too weak to shoot this captivating man in front of her. She stood there, pointing her weapon at him, her mind scattered. Sometimes looking back at her colleague, and other times at the one before her, the enemy who had shaken her being with two simple words. He stood there with full confidence, as if he knew she wouldn't be able to harm or kill him. With a calm demeanor, as her colleague approached, Andrik winked at her before turning away. He ran, leaping over the low wall and escaping to the other side of the alley. Leaving Fiona with her colleague's reproaches, who stood there panting, scolding her, "Why didn't you capture him? Why didn't you shoot him?" She stared in a strange silence. She seemed as if a demon had tampered with her settings and enchanted her! She wasn't alright. Perhaps because she too did not want the game between them to end. Maybe, like him, she loved this game that brought them together. But the only difference between them was that he was aware of this truth and played each round with passion to see her, while she realized it just now. Fiona stood in the middle of the alley, feeling her breath quicken and tears trying to escape her eyes. That moment was the beginning of a new chapter, one that wouldn't be written easily. Perhaps she should have shot him, perhaps she should have captured him, but a part of her knew that wouldn't have ended the story. Her colleague, dismayed by her weakness, turned away, leaving her in that dark alley. But she knew that night was just the beginning. The beginning of a bigger struggle, the beginning of a deeper understanding of herself and the emotions she carried. She looked at the low wall Andrik had leapt over, wondering if she would see him again. Perhaps, on another night, in another alley, their story would continue. But for now, all she had was the turmoil and the undeniable longing. Under the moonlight, in the city's sleeping silence, Fiona slowly left the alley, heading towards an uncertain future, leaving the story open to be written in the blood of love and enmity.

I don't know whether hate and love can be merged into one, but what I remember is that love was love from the start and forever in love there is no hatred or revenge, there is only a feeling of mutual understanding and understanding, forgiveness and always forgiving without stopping, despite the stupid label of other people are installed in our heads, love from the first and last sight will never be an enemy, never at all

I loved everyone's little vignettes, so here's one of mine! The party had split into two rows, elegant as always, feet whisper-quiet under the hum of the orchestra tuning up. Among them you saw friends, acquaintances, family members, distant relations. All the human clutter of your life - and you had no desire to join them, you realised with a pang. You watched, half hidden behind a divider, the last of the winter's snow still melting in your hair and on your shoulders, feeling wretched. Why had you rushed so? There was no-one here you wanted to see. You turned to leave, before the dancing truly began, and it would still be your choice. Nobody could say you had been driven away, if you left before anyone had even seen you. "Going somewhere?" Their voice was low and mischevious. You turned your coltish instinct to freeze into a graceful pause, turning towards them. "I see no reason to stay," You replied, keeping your voice light and your eyes trained on theirs. "The dancing is already underway, and I find lateness so unfashionable." "And yet you came anyway," mused your companion, breaking eye contact to address the air as if you were totally absent. It made you want to hit them. It made you want to -- "Clearly a mistake," you choked out as your throat tightened. "I'll be on my way." Picking a direction, you marched blindly away from them, deafened by the roaring in your ears. Your head had been thrown abruptly into such a whirl; first the muted panic of deciding to come, and the thrown together outfit and the even hastier plan - to do what exactly? Make someone jealous who desired only to give you their cruelty, who considered you beneath their notice apart from when they wanted to mock you? It was self-abasement that could no longer be endured. Blinking away the stinging in your eyes, you took stock of your surroundings. Your sudden flight had taken you to some sort of picture gallery punctuated by tall, dark windows. Through them, across a green space dusted with snowfall, the ballroom was visible, the warm glow of candlelight spilling out of the grand windows and reaching your lonely corridor just enough to cast shadows. You raised a finger and drew an aimless line through the frost on the windowpane, watching as, in the reflection, your friend and enemy entered the hall behind you. "I feel that I..." they stopped, cleared their throat, and took a step closer. "I ought to apologise. I have... ill-treated you somehow." You bit back a rueful laugh. "Oh, somehow? I'm afraid I can't accept an apology if you're not even sure what you're apologising for." They paused again. It gave you some satisfaction to watch them in the mirrored glass, forcing them to address the back of your head. See how they felt, to be beneath notice. You would not turn unless you felt they had earnt it. That was only fair. "I often find myself acting less polite than I would like, when I am in your company," they began again. "I find the experience ... frustrating. It does not match the standard I would expect for myself." "A good start," you replied after a moment. "But it's hardly my fault if you find me so tiresome you can barely contain yourself. Perhaps you should move on, and stop tormenting us both." They gave a rueful laugh of their own then, the sound so unfamiliar it shocked your hands to the windowsill, and you clutched it mutely as the sound thrilled your spine like lightning. They were always laughing, and often at you, but never such a dark sound, one so weighed down. "I do not think tiresome is the word I would use," they said, finally, and by the sound of their voice behind you it was clear they had moved a few steps closer. You imagined the heat of their body, radiating from them, thawing your back. The windowsill had eight stark ovals printed on the frost when you took your hands down, smoothing your clothes. There was a silence that seemed to stretch endlessly. Then, as if throwing something down a well, or into some similar abyss, your companion gave a deep sigh, and said, "Might I have the very great pleasure of sharing this dance with you?" At this, you turned around. Even in the dim light, it was clear that the cold had kissed their cheeks pink, as well as the tips of their nose and ears. It was absolutely unbearable to look at. It made you want to hit them all over again. "Why should I?" "Because I am asking you." "We can barely hear the music." "I can hear it perfectly clearly." "They must be halfway through the measures. We would look bizarre." "Who is watching?" In this, you had found your excuse. (this got so long and its soooo late, maybe will write more later if people see this + like it! i love a slightly toxic relationship lmao)

“Would you give me the honour of your last dance?” He asked with a cocky grin waltzing on his face.       “Only if you promise not to fall for me as the song comes to an end.” She answered, her eyes already empty, lifeless. He would, of course, accept the said condition; as killing her with his own hands was not enough: she needed to drown in her misery.       His hands grabbed her waist, as sweetly and softly as the silk she was wearing. He had to admit that red looked good on her in a way it would never do on anyone else. Maybe that was the reason he wanted to see her covered in blood, apart from the hatred, which was born decades ago.       To be honest, none of them knew why they fought against each other. Would that make a difference, though? Knowing how pointless this war is will not change the outcome for the two enemies, will not change how he feels. But what is it that he feels? He hated her, and for so many reasons it was hard to put into words. Think about it made him tighten his grip in a vague expectation that she would explode right there. She coughed, laying her head on his shoulder for no longer being able to breathe properly. Humiliating that was. She could cry if she wanted to, but in no case would she give him this victory over her. “Careful, princess, or you might sleep before the song ends.” He laughed, making fun of her. She thought of a reply, which would never be said. She did not have the strength for that. He was sanguine, impatiently waiting for her to perish right there. Who would have guessed that it only took a slice of her favourite cake and two drops of poison to put an end to her career. The woman who once declined the throne and declared war against her people only to cut his head now faces the cruel and ungrateful fate. One last waltz, one last breath, one last everything before he could finally declare his victory. What a shame his heart was aching, hands were trembling, throat was sore. Could that final note last forever? Slowly, regret would hit him. Regret for all those bloody words which killed her before that poison could have been thought of being used. Regret for the hate he swore to feel until his death but was never really there. Regret for how he lied, lied for a last dance, since he could never comply with that condition. He fell for her. And realised that with each passing note. He loved her. And will have to live knowing he killed the only woman who would ever love the ugly man he was inside. “Careful, prince…” She tried to say between coughs. “Or you might start crying…” Simple as that. Tears started rolling down his cheeks. Her eyes closed. The music stopped. How much of it was a victory? How much of it… “Careful, princess…”