#there's no room for nuance on this imo

[blurred-cat]

i'm sure it's been asked before but Having A Good Life an Entitlement or a Privilege? should to goal of a society be to ensure all the needs of its members are met or should their needs only be met because they are valued enough?

[liesmyth]

All your TLT posting is making me questioning if I should try it.. The only thing i'm worried is that I don't want to start a series and then finding out in the third bookthat the author made the antiheroic genderbent mao protagonist throw the metaphorical atomic bomb on the japanese because the author is an american descendent of a Chang Kai Shek general and wanted to absolve the yankees to grant herself a career (it worked greatly). So should i still try TLT as an olde commie? Love your blog btw, please continue reblog all those TLT fan art they look great! Thanks!

whew lowkey glad I couldn't get past the first book in that other series. anyway *clears throat*

If you like LESBIANS, Locked Tomb is the fandom for you. If you like BONES and FAILWOMEN and ARE ANGRY AT GOD, Locked Tomb is the fandom for you. If you like BAD JOKES and SHITTY MEMES, we have those in spades. If you love EXCELLENT FANART and DIVORCES that last TEN THOUSAND YEARS and LOCKED ROOM MURDER MYSTERIES, if you think EVIL COUGARS are SEXY, if you think PLUTO totally COUNTS as a PLANET, Locked Tomb is the fandom for you!!!!

[here's the rest of the tlt manifesto on ao3, podficced by @/wilfriede ]

On a serious note! I think TLT is definitely informed by leftist politics, and it has many themes that lend themselves to juicy interpretations on top of a really meaty worldbuilding and characterisation. Also the fanart SLAPS. And if you read the books you can check out my fics which, not to brag, are some of the weirdest I've ever written! featuring such tropes as: "bodyswapped man sucks his own dick" "vagina dentata" "ritual sex to have a baby during a mass death event" "in-universe academia" and "orphan girl meets her parents for the first time and they suck"

tldr please read the locked tomb <3

[randomnameless]

Genuine question, not trying to start a fight, why do you get so upset about gods and churches being presented in a negative light in fictional works?

No pbs!

I guess it's a mix of being too common, too forced and having, in general, the cast use common tropish arguments to fight /defeat them.

I rant a lot about this game, but take TS where we have three sort of factions opposing each other, and each are supposed to suck. Who is the faction who never receives any "positive traits" or "pet the dog" moment?

The game force fed us a scene where an Aesfroti soldier - when Aesfrost is depicted as a highly militarised nation with a cult of personality towards their current ruler, that invaded the protag's home and slaughtered several civilians and NPCs in the process - say goodbye to his wife and kids before going to "war" to defend his land against, well, the protags who are invading it to kill their warmongering leader.

As force-fed as this scene was, it, I believe at least, tried to tell us that even the Aesfrosti who pillaged villages and killed their inhabitants are humans, and care about their loved ones, sure it's corny, but it's all about not deshumanising any party.

When we attack Hyzante? Niet, zilch, nothing. No similar scene where random soldiers, or NPCs, worry about what is going on and if they're going to die when their wall has been breached. They just, don't exist in this context.

I think the cherry on the cake is the Golden Route scene, where, apparently, nationalists Aesfrosti decide to turn back against their ultra charismatic leader because, uh, he "lied" when he declared the war and used a false pretense, so the soldiers and people who were butchering babies and invading a city where people were preparing a marriage apparently now have morals and rebel.

There's no similar scene for Hyzante when the cast reveals that the teachings of their Goddess were made up and salt wasn't exclusively given to them by divine intervention, because rock salt exists everywhere. Sure it would be a bit weird and forced that people thinking they're chosen ones and looking down on everyone else suddenly, hm, don't break down when their entire system of belief is shattered, but hey, if the Aesfrostian Gregor can have morals after washing his hands of all this Glenbrookian blood, why shouldn't religious npc #55 not make the same heel face turn?

And then, we have the slavery/human experimentation plot - in general, when TS tries to give nuance, they more or less explain/justify why something that "sucks" is done, it's basically Silvio's character.

Aesfrost' Gustadolph manages to push his "freedom" mentality because his land is a harsh place where people are desperate to survive, salt smuggling is reprehensible, but it's the only way to give some to the ones who cannot afford it. Of course is everyone is free, no one is because, as Gustadolph puts it, they're basically free to die for his ambitions.

Hyzante? Follows a racist creed where Rozellians have to pay for some great sin, and are slaved away in a lake to recover salt until they die. It's, later, justified by Hyzante wanting to keep its salt monopoly else they don't have anything, and wanting to curb down the Rozelle people because they know about the exitence of rock salt (and I guess getting free workers to harvest salt from the lake + having state enemies make his own population docile/not willing to rebel ?).

And then, we have the human experimentations, that are just done for, uhh, Idore's lol. When Hyzante is known for its "advanced medicine" and we could have had the usual dilemna of, idk, having those humans experimentations used to develop this medicine that is reknown in the world (idk, sacrificing a Rozellian to save someone else's life?) - it's not the angle the devs picked. Rozellians are sacrificed to power up an idol, Idore wants to control the world through his idol and soft power (compared to Gustadolph's hard power) and manipulates his people (just like Gustadolph) to do so.

The two are very similar, but who is the final boss? Complete with a transformation in an eldritch monster? The war-mongering imperialist or the jaded old man who is leading de facto a religion?

Hopefully there's the entire "human experimentations for no other purpose than the lols" to settle them apart.

---

I recently watched Dune, and even if I have some issues with the adaptation, the Bene Gesserit isn't portrayed as "comically" evil-er than the Harkonen Empire, I reckon the comparison isn't adequate, because Dune is multi book series when I'm mostly talking about video games.

Symphonia's church of Martel is a font for the Big Bad (tm) to put in motion his nefarious plans, and yet, through the game, we see how random clergymen use their, uh, religious buildings to help people around. Ultimately Martel herself is reincarnated through plot device and tells the big bad to stop being an ass and the story is less about "church and gods evil" but "big bad distorts Martel/church's teachings and role for his plans because he has a tragic backstory"

(but then Symphonia ends with the biggest whitewashing from every Tales I've played for its big bad so I'll stop talking about it because otherwise I'm going to be salty).

Abyss' church is more or less the same thing - the Church is supposed to help people deal with the fact their verse has "predestination stones" where the future is already written, and in the course of the game, we see how it has several factions and one opposes the group (who has the pope as a NPC!) - but it's not a story about "gods bad church BaD".

I remember playing Suikoden Tierkreis a long time ago, and while the game seemed to go through familiar "church bad gods bad" route and we end with defeating a god-like entity... I pretty much loved the twist that, in a game that relied on alternate dimensions/universe, the god-like entity was actually the protag if he made different choices!

In those games, if you fight a religious body and someone pretending to be a God or what not - it's not because people fight against an eldritch creature who wants world domination and to erase puny insects, or is the reason why everything goes wrong, but because, at the end, the conflict/fight is ultimately caused by someone, generally a human or at least a non "god like" entity, wanting to destroy the world.

I don't remember if FE was my first JRPG series or not, but I always liked the idea that if the world is doomed in those games and the heroes must prevent said doom, it's not because a god-like being wants to destroy the world, but because people, humans/randoms are the most shitty ones out there.

---

As for the "tropes" often used to deride fictional churchs and religious people, well, I will again point to TS - which did a splendid job in the Benedict Route where you smash Hyzante after allying with Aesfrost.

There's one battle where out protags diss Hyzantese because they worship a goddess and have no free will, listening to Her teachings and Her says (the traditional "religious people have no free will and listen to their churches who tell them how to think!") - which is immediately countered by one of those Hyzantese characters asking Serenor if he's not the same, but instead of blindly listening to a Goddess, blindly follows Benedict. And it ends with the final chapter title referencing automatons/puppets : who is that title talking about ? The fake "idol" Idore created, or the fake "king" Benedict created?

Anyways, the usual "religions people have no free will because their church/religion tells them how to think" trope reeks of r/atheism and the double standard - bar in this route of TS, but I guess, in TS itself in the Roland route! - is never called out, blindly following a charismatic leader is okay, as long as charismatic leader isn't religious?

Regardless of my IRL thoughts about religion, usually those tropes are presented as a "gotcha!" when they are... not at all, but the games/books leave it at that and we're supposed to roll with it.

I'd say it's lazy writing or, as we saw in Naruto, a quick way to end a story without having to dwelve in characters and their motivations : "you're a god/alien/other being and you're bad, so let us do what we want!" - end of the story.

Hopefully some fillers and to an extent, Boruto gave her more meat bar being the 11 hour villain we had to defeat quick and who manipulated the previous sad'n'lonely antagonists - but it still felt rich from Naruto, known for his famous "talk no jutsu" and trying to understand people he's fighting against, to drop the ball with Kaguya, calling her pure malice and ending with some "let us live the way we want" to wrap up the plot so he can wrestle with his boyfriend later on.

In the end, we often end up with "religion bad bcs the big bad manipulates people through it", as if those mangas/animes/vg never have other examples of charismatic people not using religion to manipulate their randoms/people or "gods bad they should let humans do what they want" when we've read/seen/played through various, uh, really fucked-up shit humans did - but on their own! and ultimately, but it's more in fandom spaces, with have Projection 101.

TLDR : church/religion/gods are too often used in those works as the ultimate scapegoat to either wrap up a story in a rushed ending or to pretend to have "nuance" but still have a common enemy where all the "nuanced" characters can grow/be whitewashed and side together against that "common enemy".

Just like in all things I guess, I prefer when something isn't painted as purely negative and all of the positive traits are erased because there is a need for a perfect scapegoat - sure, bring out too much "nuance" and writing/designing a game/manga/anime becomes harder because there's no "clear cut" antagonist, and yet, the one who always gets fucked in this scenario is the religious/church side.

Want a generic stock villain who will destroy the world so the heroes have to fight against them? Just create a "religion" in your setting, and have the big bad either hell bent on resurrecting Chtullu to destroy the world because Chtullu BaD, or have them be the most corrupt piece of shit who manipulate everything in the shadows, so the rest of the world, even the ones who slaughter others bcs they feel like they must start a war, can be whitewashed at the end.

I mean, there's a saying about diverting attention from a fire by starting a bigger one near, or a trope of "aliens made them do it" : who cares if Madara started a continental war and targeted a village full of random civilians he swore to protect because he lost the elections? Did y'know he was manipulated by a woman, I mean, an eldritch thing created by a woman, regarded as a God, who ultimately wanted to get out of her fridge to kill everyone?

Roland must get over his hatred for Aesfrost for barging in his kindgom and killing hundred of his people while they were preparing for a wedding, because hey, Idore is evil and plans on ruling the world through his sham religion!

I'll forever be salty at TS for not giving Kamsell the occasion to rise against Idore, or not even have minor NPCs get the same treatment as Sycras suddenly going all "u lied to me gustadolph so i won't listen to u anymore + sad goodbyes to my wife'n'kids".

Extremism of all kinds can lead to wars/tragedy/fucked up shit - Sure I don't want to get my History lessons in video game medium when I play lol, but what I really don't like is how it feels like depicting "they're extremists because they're religious" feels like the default/easy answer : want a bunch of brainwashed people the heroes must fight against and can't talk no justu their way out of this fight/will fight without looking too BaD? Depict those people as "misguided" members of a corrupt church/believers of a religion, no one will givea fig. If they are instead supporters of a charismatic leader who throws them through the meatgrinder to further their goals? Well, there's no automatic loyalty so either you have to show/depict it on screen, else it can be challenged at key points to demonstrate how those people - who follow the charismatic leader - aren't completely "mindlessly listening to their leader" or how their leader "isn't that bad after all".

[thisisadonaldduckblognow]

all the rise boys get done dirty on characterization by fandom in different ways i think. (not ALL the time every fanwork etc etc these are just like, trends i tend to notice?) every fandom suffers from losing character nuance.

- leo i’ve talked about plenty on this blog, how some of his canon traits (genuine belief in his skill and cockiness, capacity for joy, his manipulativeness whether for good or ill) seem to get watered down or wiped off the board and supplemented with generic sad boy. his struggles with purpose and identity and not wanting to fail somehow morph into “he hates and completely holds no value for himself”

- donnie’s canon personality gets blurred out and largely replaced with whatever list of Neurodivergent Traits. and i think there’s such a fine line to walk between exploring a character that’s been word of god confirmed as on the spectrum and overwriting what’s canonically there. it’s a hard needle to thread. it also feels like a lot of his canon emotiveness gets left off the table for some reason. bc he does have his moments of flat/deadpan delivery, but a lot of the time he’s honestly very emotive. he has the passion of a theatre kid and the vindictiveness of... also a theatre kid. and the mind of a scientist.

- raph loses so much of his rowdy teen boy energy it’s kind of wild? like interpretations sand off that he’s also impulsive and can be reckless and dumb and LOVES fighting and roughhousing and isn’t the most eloquent person. suddenly there’s this pitch perfect soft boy big bro who would never hurt a fly and always says the exact right supportive thing and singlehandedly raised his 3 brothers (which simultaneously sands off all the nuance of splinter’s issues emotionally connecting with his sons and how that affected all of them). and like i LOVE raph, he’s so full of love and care and anxiety, he clearly has learned to put a lot of work into being aware of his strength and size. but there’s a difference you know?

- mikey is like. where raph gets overparentified by fanon, mikey gets over “family therapist”-ed IMO. the impulsiveness, the goofiness, the powerful emotions including a VERY powerful temper, the flat-out dumb teen boy choices... they get ignored. suddenly there’s this only very sweet and earnest boy who has read a hundred psychology books and runs group family therapy weekly or something. he is crying in his room bc leo and raph are arguing about something. which is so. he IS very sweet and can be very earnest and is full of love! he HAS come in with his opinions and unsolicited advice a couple of times and life coached for the greater good. but there’s a difference between what he does in canon and the role he gets in fanon.

[soulaires]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 7 Evil Exes ™️ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

main pairing: Aaron Warner x f!reader

synopsis: Aaron Warner is not sure about many things, but he is sure as hell that he can be a better boyfriend than your exes.

content warnings: modern au, jealous Aaron Warner, bisexual reader, hinted one-sided rivalry (if u squint enough), use of y/n, profanities, making out, kissing, playgirl!reader, swear words, pining, slow burn..

« words: 17,899 (I know. I KNOW.) ┇ao3┇wattpad┇ reblogs appreciated! »

🪩:: voicemail; read my other aaron warner fics here.

authors note: It’s finally here!!! Please let me know your opinion or what you think about this!! Love you alll 🫶 I suggest reading it in ao3 btw, it’s much more easier imo andd not beta read sorry.

PRESENT. (2040)

Aaron Warner Doesn’t Get Jealous. (Or that’s the lie he keep telling at himself for the past few years)

He’s not really someone who got jealous, I mean, what would a man like him be jealous of?

Jealousy, in Warner’s meticulous worldview, was an emotion akin to unruly chaos. It required an admission of vulnerability, an acknowledgment that something, or in this case, someone, held the power to disrupt the carefully constructed equilibrium of his life. It was a sentiment he considered beneath him, beneath the carefully honed image of composure he projected to the world.

He was Aaron Warner, unflinching and composed. Jealousy required acknowledging vulnerabilities that he refused to expose. He has always prided himself on his unyielding control, the ironclad grip he maintained on every aspect of his life.

Yet, there were moments, like the one he was currently experiencing, that threatened his carefully constructed facade.

The party was in full swing, the atmosphere vibrant and charged. Laughter and music filled the air, and Warner stood amidst the throng of people, a glass of whiskey in hand. As he stood in the corner of the room, glaring daggers at the scene of you and kenji dancing in the middle of the dance floor, Warner could not deny the storm of emotions brewing within him.

He took a sip of his whiskey, his refined taste for the finer things momentarily overshadowed by the fire igniting in his chest. He had been observing the situation with detachment, or so he had tried to convince himself.

Yet, each chuckle that escaped your lips, every shy smile directed at that interloper, seemed to slice through his veneer of indifference like a dagger. Warner’s green eyes narrowed as he watched you, dissecting every nuance of the encounter. He saw the way your hair fell just so across your shoulders, the way your eyes sparkled with genuine amusement. And then, there was that touch – innocent, yes, but it still sent tendrils of anger curling around his heart, grip tightening around the glass cup.

“You alright there, Warner?” A voice chimed in, interrupting his train of thoughts. It was Nazeera, her observant eyes noticing the situation.

“Perfectly,” he replied curtly, his gaze still fixed on you.

Nazeera followed his line of sight and smirked. “Ah, I see. Jealousy does not suit you, Warner.”

Warner’s jaw clenched. “I am not jealous.”

Nazeera raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Jealousy requires emotions, which you find terribly unrefined. But as you stand here, glaring at the sight of poor y/n and kenji who’s unwittingly— or should I say unwillingly caught your ire, I’d say you are feeling downright murderous.”

Warner’s irritation flared. “I assure you, I’m simply observing. Run along.”

Nazeera chuckled knowingly. “Right, observing with the intensity of a hawk about to swoop down on its prey.”

Warner’s eyes flickered to her, irritation now can be seen at his face “You are enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Immensely” she replied, her grin widening. “But don’t fret, Warner. Jealousy happens to the best of us, even those who pride themselves on being unemotional”

Aaron only huffs in response. He took another sip of his whiskey, his gaze drifting back to you. Nazeera only watches him with amusement.

“They were supposed to be broken up,” he said, breaking the silence and now looki— no, glaring fire and daggers at Kenji.

“And why do you care?” Juliette Ferrars appeared, arms linked in with none other than Adam Kent who is smirking, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding in his eyes.

Nazeera smiled mischievously. “Yes, Warner, why do you care?” Aaron rolled his eyes taking a long gulp of his whiskey.

Why did he care?

Aaron Warner really had nothing against your past lovers—He simply believed that they all don’t deserve you and that he thought that he would fit in so much better in their place.

He could be a better boyfriend than all of them.

You see, You had what Aaron Warner liked to call 7 Evil Exes, except some of them were not really evil and some of them were not really exes. but that is what he likes to call them and a secret he clung to in the privacy of his mind.

Nazeera Ibrahim.

New Years Day Party, Circa 2035.

It was New Year’s Day, Aaron’s father had forced him again to come to a party with his business partners to celebrate.

As he entered the ballroom where the teenagers who were also dragged along by their parents were hanging out, Warner heard you and nazeera's loud, booming, and obnoxious laugh.

Recently, there hadn’t been a time when Aaron was with Nazeera that you weren’t accompanying them. And perhaps, if Aaron did not have such a terrible time making friends, he might not have ended up spending as much time hanging along with Nazeera Ibrahim.

The opulent ballroom was ablaze with twinkling chandeliers and a sea of elegantly dressed individuals. It was the kind of event that drew the city’s elite, where the power plays of the wealthy and influential were disguised behind smiles and clinking glasses.

Aaron Warner, however, had always found such gatherings a tiresome spectacle. Tonight was no different.

“Double A,” a voice chimed in, it was none other than Kenji Kishimoto. Warner hated that nickname and most especially kishimoto. “Upset that your rival is not giving you any attention?” He teased. “Go away.” Warner replied as he took a drink to his wine.

“In case you haven't noticed, this is a party – a gathering designed for enjoyment, y’know.” Warner only rolled his eyes in response , “I’m aware. Get out.”

“What’s with the face, sour patch? It’s New Year’s Eve, are you really starting your year with a brooding face? How boring”

“Go. Away.” He warned. Kenji only huffs in response as he leaves.

“Oh look who we have here,” you suddenly said behind Warner. “What are you doing here at the corner?” You stated. “None of your business.” He replied, bored.

“You are no fun, Aaron.” Oh God. “Fun might not be my forte then.” Warner said, sarcasm visible to his voice.

“You chat like a full-on adult – did you clock that?” You mumbled. Clearly not sober, you speaking to him and being ‘nice’ kinda give it away.

“Why aren’t you out there having a blast with us?” you prodded Warner’s arm. ”Why? You all seem to be enjoying yourselves just fine. Nazeera is,” Aaron murmured to himself.

“You do realize that we consider you a friend too, right? It is not just Nazeera.”

“When was the last time I spent time with you without Nazeera around?” Warner said, harshly. “I am not your friend, l/n.” He continued. “Oh, definitely not. But you are the biggest asshole I know.” You said teasingly as you laughed.

God. He kinda hates you.

“Oh, why thank you” Warner replied as he gave you a mocking smile. You only roll your eyes in response and leave, which is a dismay to Aaron.

__

He had been content in his corner, a place where he could observe without being observed, where he could distance himself from the shallow conversations and frivolous indulgence.

But his decision to leave his little corner had now made him an unwilling witness to a scene that mirrored a teenage sleepover rather than a high-society event, now he was an unwilling witness to the spectacle unfolding, a circle of friends, a bottle spinning, and raucous laughter as it determined the next victim.

It was all so juvenile, so beneath him. He didn’t care. No, he really did not. He exhaled a silent sigh, his eyes scanning the crowd. That’s when he saw you – a flash of mischief in your eyes as you joined the circle.

A mix of anticipation and amusement danced across your features, and for a moment, Aaron found his gaze inexplicably drawn to you.

The bottle pointed at you, and you met his gaze with a mix of anticipation and mischief. He couldn’t help but notice how your smile was brighter tonight, your eyes alight with the shared secrets of the game.

The bottle spun, slowly losing momentum before finally settling.

Nazeera.

The bottle had chosen Nazeera Ibrahim, and Aaron could not help but feel his gut tighten. Nazeera, with her quick wit and unapologetic charm, leaned in and brushed her lips against yours. The room erupted into cheers, the celebration of a simple, harmless act. Aaron downed the rest of his whiskey, his facade barely holding as he looked away.

He did not care. No, he really didn’t. It was a game, a meaningless gesture, and his rational mind understood that. But as he watched you and Nazeera exchange a knowing smile, a spark of anger flared within him, and he was left grappling with an unsettling truth he refused to acknowledge.

The room's energy was infectious, intoxicating, and it stirred something within him he had long suppressed. He downed the rest of his whiskey, its warmth barely soothing the tension in his chest.

___

The party continued, the spectacle of the game morphing into a dance of bodies and laughter. Aaron moved through the crowd with his usual grace, exchanging pleasantries and polite smiles. As the night waned, the festivities evolved into a more intimate gathering. Aaron found himself once again near the circle, his eyes discreetly observing.

His attention was drawn back to you – your laughter, your smile, the easy camaraderie you shared with those around you. And that spark of anger, the one he had tried to suppress, grew stronger.

The noise seemed to fade around him as he stood there, his thoughts a tempest of confusion and contradiction. He had been adamant that he did not care, that he was above the trivialities of the game. Yet, as he looked at you, a realization began to crystallize.

It was not about the kiss.

His internal debate was disrupted when Nazeera approached him, her gaze sharp and perceptive. ”What's eating at you, Warner?”

He gave her a sidelong glance, his features carefully composed. “Nothing worth mentioning.”

She chuckled, a knowing glint in her eyes. “I’ve known you long enough to recognize when something’s bothering you.”

He met her gaze, his voice firm. “It’s none of your concern, Ibrahim.”

She leaned in, her voice a whisper that held a hint of teasing. “You know, it’s okay to be bothered by something, even if you pretend otherwise. You don’t fool me, Aaron Warner.”

With that, she walked away, leaving Aaron to wrestle with the turmoil within him. He moved to a quieter corner of the room, his thoughts a tumultuous storm.

He didn't care. He couldn’t care.

That was the narrative he had woven for himself. But as he stood there, surrounded by the fading echoes of laughter and celebration, the truth began to claw at him.

The anger he felt wasn’t directed at the kiss itself, but at the fact that he had been forced to witness it.

Yeah, he definitely does hate you.

__

PRESENT.

Warner would not lie; there was a point when he disliked his friend.

It irked him how she was always stuck by your side, hated her for being your first kiss, hated her for the fact that she kissed you, hated her.

And he also hated you for being all nice and friendly, making him feel like he belonged like he’s included, but then turning around and acting like he did not exist. It made him think you chose Nazeera over him in some weird way.

The memory of it was a bitter pill to swallow. Now, he’s watching as Nazeera wrapped her arms around your waist, your laughter intermingling with the music, kishimoto no longer in sight.

Aaron’s jaw clenched as Nazeera’s touch lingered, her fingers grazing your skin.

Then you turned around, your arms snaking around Nazeera’s neck, hugging her from behind. The sight of your intimate embrace, the way your top lifted to reveal a hint of skin, stirred something in him that he could not quite name. He looked away, his irritation magnified by the laughter of Juliette and Adam, who were thoroughly entertained by his discomfort.

“Hey, Warner, you’re missing quite the show,” Juliette teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

He forced a half-hearted smile, his gaze avoiding the dance floor. “I’ve seen better.”

Adam chuckled, clapping a hand on Warner’s shoulder. “Come on, man, don’t be such a killjoy. Live a little.” Warner only shoved his hand from his shoulder making Adam and Juliette laugh.

Their voices fell deaf on his ears as his attention was drawn back to you and Nazeera. The two of you seemed lost in your own world.

Warner pressed his lips together, his gaze fixed ahead with an air of annoyance. Even though Nazeera was this kind of ex-but-not-really, he still saw her as one of them. It was not jealousy, not exactly, but Nazeera’s striking resemblance to you made things pretty complicated. You and Nazeera seemed like two sides of the same coin on occasions.

Warner could not help but entertain the thoughts that he might have been a better choice for a first kiss – not that he was particularly yearning for that, though. Kissing you? no way, that would be way too crazy. It was completely out of the question. That was just a wild and outlandish notion, but…

Aaron Warner sure would have been a better first kiss.

But that’s only his own personal opinion. He genuinely has no real interest in it, none whatsoever.

He didn’t really care about you anyway.

Zayden Knox.

Is meeting someone just once and deciding that you already and absolutely loathe them too early? Because Warner was and had already decided he hated Zayden Knox. And if he had to endure another moment in his company, he was fairly certain he might spontaneously combust.

Zayden Knox. Your first Boyfriend. Tall, platinum blond, rich, narcissistic, undoubtedly entitled, and worse, he was dating you. Warner was going to vomit.

Warner could not fathom what you saw in him, what qualities Knox possessed that could warrant your affection? You guys had completed a month of dating – a month that felt like an eternity for Warner.

Aaron scowled as he recalled the incident when Zayden had deliberately taken the seat next to Warner, claiming he wanted to meet your 'cousin'. Cousin.

Warner had left the scene without exchanging a single word.

That was the moment he had decided to loathe Zayden Knox with a burning passion.

The infuriating part was that Zayden had nothing to do with Warner’s feelings for you. It wasn’t a matter of jealousy, or wanting to be in Knox’s place. It was the simple fact that Zayden grated on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

If Nazeera was a mirror image of you in some respects, Zayden was the polar opposite. He didn’t share your interests, your values, or seemingly any of your virtues.

Warner had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes whenever Zayden spoke, which was far too often. Zayden's conversations were self-centered topics that Warner found utterly infuriating.

Worse yet, he had heard Zayden mock the very things you enjoyed with an air of superiority that made Warner’s blood boil.

He literally did not care about what you liked and even trash-talked the stuff you enjoyed. Knox was shallow and annoying, he seemed like the last person you’d click with. So, the big question was, why did you pick Zayden Knox? Warner could not wrap his head around it.

What the hell had led you to choose someone like Zayden Knox as your first boyfriend?

That was the question Warner couldn’t answer, the puzzle he couldn’t solve. He had witnessed you laugh, engage in meaningful discussions, and show kindness to those around you. Zayden, on the other hand, seemed to be the embodiment of insincerity.

He can be a much better choice.

He can be your first boyfriend yet you have chosen someone who can’t even listen to you talking about the things you adored. Maybe that’s why every time he saw You and Knox in the hallways you guys were kissing and not talking.

___

Halloween Party, Circa 2037.

The Halloween party was in full swing, the mansion adorned with eerie decorations and the air thick with laughter and music. Aaron Warner, His costume was a nod to his own enigmatic aura – dressed in a dark, impeccably tailored suit, reminiscent of the dark, powerful figures from classic films.

It was as if he had embraced the idea of embodying his own enigma, using it to further distance himself from the joviality around him. He stood near the grand staircase, observing the masquerade of guests with his signature air of detached amusement.

He had begrudgingly agreed to attend this event, knowing that it was an opportunity for him to judge rich people’s choice of clothes. His attention, however, kept gravitating towards the entrance, his gaze settling on the crowd as the guests flowed in.

And then he saw you, (with Zayden Knox beside you, which Warner has completely ignored.) a vision of mischief and charm, you entered like a phantom, a vision of allure and danger wrapped in an enigma.

The black dress clung to your curves, the fabric flowing like liquid silk with each step she took. The dress itself was simple in design, yet its effect was anything but a slit up at your thigh, a dagger can be seen that it’s attached to your thighs, a fake gun was holstered at your side, a prop that lent authenticity to your costume of an assassin. Your hair cascaded down your shoulders in loose waves.

The corner of his lips twitched into an almost imperceptible smirk – he had to admit that you had a talent for making an impression.

As the night wore on, he found himself content with his role as an observer. People mingled, danced, and indulged, all while he remained the enigmatic figure lurking in the shadows. He could feel their gazes on him, curious and speculative, their conversations likely rife with speculation about his motives and intentions.

The clinking of champagne glasses and the hum of chatter formed a backdrop to his thoughts, and he did not notice when you approached. It wasn’t until your voice cut through the noise that he turned his attention to you, his expression a mix of mild irritation and genuine intrigue.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the formidable Aaron Warner,” you purred, your tone laced with both taunting and undeniable magnetism.

He arched an eyebrow, a rare hint of amusement ghosting his features. ”And here I thought Halloween was a time for costumes, not insults.”

You chuckled, your laughter infectious even in the midst of the lingering tension. “Oh, but Aaron, don’t you know? Insults are my specialty, no matter the occasion.”

He couldn’t help but be drawn into the banter, “and here I was, hoping for a break from the usual.” He shot back.

“Well, I couldn’t help it. Are you trying to blend into the darkness tonight?” you quipped, your tone laced with a playful challenge.

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze meeting yours, “you could say I’m embracing the ambiance.”

“Well, you’re certainly nailing the brooding loner aesthetic.”

Warner resisted the urge to roll his eyes, his lips quirking into a half-smile. ”I’m touched by your assessment,” you only smirk in response. “Why don’t you go run along now.” He continued, more of a statement than a question.

You gasped dramatically, a hand pressed to your heart in feigned hurt. “Wow, eager to get rid of me, Warner? I’m hurt. I thought we had something special!”

Your sarcasm was like a well-practiced melody, each word dripping with playful mockery. You even went so far as to dramatically wipe away non-existent tears from your eyes, the theatricality of the action earning a faint smile from him.

“Never, love.” his tone laced with a mock seriousness that matched your theatrics. You chuckled in response, pink blush coloring your cheeks. Huh. Cute.

“I’ll stay here for awhile, it’s suffocating out there.” you said.

Warner’s eyebrow arched slightly, “Won’t your date miss you?” there’s something in his tone that you couldn’t quite understand.

You met his gaze, ”If I cared about that, I would not be here.”

What? Warner raised an eyebrow, curiosity now visible to his face, “Touché.”

There was a charged silence between you, the tension hovering in the air. The air was heavy with an unspoken tension, a weight that seemed to settle between you as if begging to be addressed. The world around you continued to swirl, the party continued with fancy extravagance that sharply stands out from the complicated feelings brewing underneath.

Finally, Warner turned to you, putting an end to the silence. He blurted out, “Why are you dating Knox?” The question escaped him without restraint.

“What? Why?” Your response seemed defensive.

“He is… just nothing like you,” Warner shrugged dismissively as if he didn’t care. And he didn’t, at least that’s what he believed.

You looked at the landscape beyond the open window, nibbling on your lip. “You know, my friends have been saying the same thing,” you admitted cautiously. Then you turned back to him, looking deeply into his green eyes. Oh God.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Always.”

“I don't like Zayden, not at all,” you finally said, your voice a blend of confidence and vulnerability. There was a quiet honesty in your words, a confession that seemed to hang in the air like a delicate secret.

Warner's brow furrowed, his gaze fixed on you as he processed your words. ”Like you said, he‘s not really my type.”

The uttered and unspoken meanings of the words hovered between you. Warner’s mind raced, piecing together the fragments of a puzzle he hadn’t realized he’d been trying to solve.

“oh.” he managed, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and realization. “Then why are you dating him?”

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, he saw something in your gaze – a flicker of hesitation, a glint of regret. “Everyone around me is dating, and it makes me feel like I’m falling behind, and Zayden was right there and... I don’t like him at all.”

You didn’t like him. You didn’t like Zayden Knox. Well, now it all made a lot more sense.

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, his usually sharp mind suddenly feeling a bit scattered. The revelation hit him with an unexpected force, stirring up emotions he hadn’t anticipated. It was strange how he felt relieved.

“You're dating him because you felt pressured,” Warner summarized, his voice quieter than usual, laced with an understanding that bordered on empathy.

You nodded, your gaze dropping to your hands in your lap. “Mhm. It sounds silly when I say it out loud, but it's true. I thought if I had a boyfriend, it would make me feel like I'm on the same page as everyone else.”

Warner studied your profile, the soft curve of your features illuminated by the gentle moonlight. “I understand that feeling,” he admitted, his tone almost hesitant. “The pressure to conform, to fit in. It’s a powerful force.”

You looked up, your eyes meeting him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. “You do?”

He offered a small smile. “Perhaps more than you think. People always assume certain things about me, and sometimes it’s easier to just play along.” There was a shared understanding between you now, a connection that went beyond the surface.

Warner took a deep breath and spoke with a sincerity that surprised even himself.

“Y/N, you are not falling behind,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm. “You’re not defined by whether or not you are dating someone. You are young, you’ve got time with you. Besides, love is not just romantical, you can find love in everyday things. It's okay to want and crave it but just because you don’t have it right now doesn’t mean there is something wrong with you.”

Your gaze held his, a mixture of gratitude and contemplation shining in your eyes. “Thank you, Aaron.” He only offered a small smile in return.

“You should get back.” he pointed back to the ballroom.

“Right, they must be finding me right now.” you replied.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t.” You smiled at him and winked. You winked at him. You winked. Good god.

__

Not a week after that, you broke up with your first boyfriend.

Zayden Knox was the ex that Warner forgot about the most, to be honest. It was not that he didn't notice the end of your relationship; it was just that Zayden seemed to fade into the background, overshadowed by other exes that have captured Warner's wrath far more significantly.

Really, anyone would make a better first partner, maybe even him. Warner believes he’d be a way better choice for your first boyfriend, honestly.

The first ones aren’t always all that great, but they have the potential to be, if Aaron Warner was your first.

Astrid Rhodes.

Valentine’s Day, Circa 2038.

Valentine's Day had dawned, and a sense of whimsical romance filled the air. In the heart of someone's abnormally giant garden, a mini tea party event had been set up. The lush greenery and delicate blooms formed the perfect backdrop for the occasion. As the sun's warm embrace bathed the garden, laughter and chatter floated on the breeze.

Among the attendees was Aaron Warner, a figure that commanded attention without seeking it. He entered the garden with a nonchalant stride, his sharp gaze sweeping across the scene. The air was filled with the delicate clinking of teacups and the gentle hum of conversations. But amid the crowd, what managed to escape Warner's notice initially was you.

There you were, sitting on a blanket spread out on the grass, amidst the vivid colors of nature. Your lips were locked in a kiss with a raven-haired girl. The sight hit Warner with an unexpected intensity, igniting a sensation he was quick to suppress.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” a voice spoke behind him, Juliette ferrars. Warner turned to find Ferrars at his side. Her knowing gaze bore into him. Warner stayed silent, a deliberate choice to avoid admitting that there might be a connection between him and you. He grasped the reality that acknowledging it would trap him in that emotion, and he was determined to avoid that outcome. So, denial it was.

“Is that what you two always tell yourself?” Another voice joined in, it was Nazeera. Of course it had to be her. The question took Warner and Juliette completely by surprise.

Warner and Juliette exchanged a glance, bewildered by Nazeera's statement. They turned to follow her gaze, only to realize that she was now looking at you and the raven-haired girl.

“Her name is Astrid Rhodes,” Nazeera informed them, her tone matter-of-fact. “They’ve been seeing each other for about a week now, but trust me, it doesn't carry any weight.”

“I didn’t ask.” Warner's retort was sharp, laced with a hint of sass. Ferrars only scoffed. what?

Nazeera, however, remained unperturbed by their reactions, her gaze still fixed on you. “Y/N is simply exploring something with Rhodes, an experiment of sorts. Nothing serious.” she said as she ignored Warner completely.

Juliette sighed in defeat.

Oh. oh. Jesus Christ.

“You like her?” Warner shot Juliette a look that ferrars can’t comprehend as he questioned her.

“And what about it?” Ferrars replied, as she raised her eyebrows, taunting warner.

“Oh, come now, Ferrars. Don’t pretend you don’t understand the significance of such a question.” Warner responded.

“Significance? Please enlighten me, Warner. I'm all ears.” Juliette said, looking rather annoyed. Warner only ignored her, leaving the scene as he sat on a chair in the less crowded space. Unfortunately for him, Ibrahim and Ferrars have followed him, taking seats beside him. So, God help me.

“I only like her. It’s different from being in love with her, nazeera.” Ferrars stated as she sat in front of him, nazeera scoffed, “sure, j” Ibrahim remarked, clearly not believing ferrars. “I’m being serious! I don’t love her, I can’t.” Ferrars defended herself, stupidly.

“Are you saying you've never felt anything remotely close to affection, Ferrars?” Warner retorted, “Oh, please. Don’t make this about me, Warner. We’re gonna discuss your sudden fascination.” Ferrars declared.

“Fascination, you say? I think you’re giving yourself too much credit. It's called observation.” Warner uttered coldly.

Juliette snorted, “Of course, because watching someone with such intensity is purely an observational exercise.”

"Exactly. Just like observing a laboratory experiment," Warner countered, “You know, with variables, hypotheses, and unexpected outcomes.”

“Ah, so y/n is an experiment now? What’s next? Are you going to write a research paper on her tendencies?” Juliette retorted quickly.

Warner chuckled, “Perhaps a series of articles, titled ‘The Curious Case of Y/N L/N’”

Before their jabs could continue, Nazeera intervened, her presence a stark interruption to their exchange.

“Could you two save the investigative journalism for later?” Nazeera quipped, a knowing smile curving her lips.

Warner and Juliette scowelled, both momentarily taken aback by Nazeera’s interruption. It was as if she could sense the undercurrents of their conversation.

“Something tells me you have more interesting things to discuss,” Nazeera continued, her gaze flickering toward you and Astrid Rhodes, who were still engrossed in their own world.

Warner’s jaw tightened slightly, his thoughts a tangled mess. Nazeera had a way of cutting through pretenses, of bringing the truth to light in a way that was both disconcerting and strangely refreshing. Juliette sighed, her defiance momentarily giving way to resignation.

“Why Don’t you tell me something about Rhodes so that I can properly despise her.” Juliette’s voice cut through, laced with a mix of bitterness and curiosity. Her words hung in the air like a challenge, Nazeera’s lips twitched, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. With a nod, she leaned back, ready to unravel the tapestry of Astrid Rhodes’ reputation.

“Ah, Astrid Rhodes,” Nazeera began, her tone carrying a mix of amusement and exasperation. “A name that triggers a range of emotions in anyone who’s had the displeasure of crossing paths with her.”

Juliette’s eyes bore into Nazeera, the desire for information evident in her gaze. Warner’s interest was piqued as well. Ibrahim keeps talking about Rhodes for the past few minutes.

Apparently, Astrid Rhodes is an absolute nightmare.

After Warner survived Zayden Knox’s awful personality and relationship with you, you started dating someone who’s a hundred times more annoying.

Astrid Rhodes. Hell, you never learn do you? It’s clear that Rhodes is not really a good choice to have someone as significant other. She was Toxic, Manipulative, gold digger, and most importantly a cheater. She has multiple allegations of cheating on her past lovers, which she constantly denies. Jesus Christ.

__

Warner entered a vacant room to get away from everyone for a moment, he was overwhelmed with everything. He saw the door swung open, finding you entering the very same room, you locked eyes with him, shocked.

“Hey, Aaron.” You greeted, taking a step in front of him.

“Hey yourself.” he replied, a smirk tugging his lips.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, while inspecting the room.

“To avoid everyone talking to me, they keep hovering over me. What about you?” Warner asked back, looking around the room.

“Taking a breather. Everyones being a bitch.” you replied, smirking down at warner.

“You know, You’re not as invincible as you think, Warner. One day, you’ll be knocked off your pedestal.” you added as you watched him stepping closer to you, the proximity between you both electric.

“And you think you're the one to do it?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the challenge in his eyes a dare you could not resist. “Watch me.”

His lips curved into a wicked smile, a glint of something more in his gaze. “Perhaps I will.”

“You know everyone keeps comparing me to you, it’s getting annoying, really” you suddenly said, starting a conversation so it won’t be awkward.

“Oh yeah?” Warner said, smirking. His eyes on you. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

“Yeah—God, I hate you.” you muttered

“Say it again.” he countered and you feel like you are going insane. Oh My god.

“Would you love me to whisper it in your ears?” You teased back.

Warner was speechless. Aaron warner doesn’t get speechless—yet here he is. A comfortable silence settles between you two, The tension between you two crackled like electricity. As your teasing reached its crescendo, a moment of silence suddenly settled over you guys. The heated exchange had given way to an unexpected pause, and your eyes met his. In that unguarded second, the tension shifted from amusement to something else entirely.

“Aaron?” you questioned, noticing his silence.

“You gotta stop doing that.” he mumbled.

“doing what?”

Saying things that makes me want to kiss you.

Silence.

Warner found himself drawn closer to you, a gravitational force he couldn’t resist. The background noise faded into a distant hum as he closed the physical gap between you and him, only a meter away. The playful glint in his eyes had transformed into something more primal, more intimate. He’s now looking at your eyes then to your lips.

God, He wanted to kiss you and kiss you and kiss you over and over again. Hell, he was going insane. Do people normally lose their mind like this?

He couldn’t fight again. He couldn’t. If you kissed him right then and there he wouldn’t be able to do anything but kiss you back. And he’s afraid that he won’t be able to stop.

So Warner did the imaginable. He cupped the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, feeling your breath on his lips. With that, he cupped your cheeks, green eyes drawing to yours, he shooed some hair strands from your face.

Aaron can’t breathe. It’s like you have stolen every oxygen he has.

You put your hands to his waist, and it was over.

So, he kissed you. He kissed you. Without warning, without permission, without thinking. Without even deciding to do it, but simply because he couldn’t have done anything else. He had to grab back the breath you were holding. It belonged to him, and he wanted it back.

The kiss began to get more heated as he grabbed your waist and pulled you in close. Your hands wandered his back as he grasped at you. He kissed you and you kept kissing him back. Before giving you a calm kiss on the neck, Warner’s mouth lingered over your skin. He might even taste your skin. In his case, it was needed.

He needed to do it, and he was not going to leave the room until he had. He deepened his kiss by wetting your flesh. With the knowledge that it would leave a mark, he sucked and held it between his teeth.

It was also what he longed for since it was his only opportunity to be with you. With every whisper and every plea that you made for him, he felt the skin of your throat vibrate.

After a while, you guys pulled apart, stunned looks visible to each other. He saw the mark on your neck and he couldn’t help but feel proud about it. A hickey on your neck. And it was him. Aaron Warner who had done it.

He had tasted your skin.

Warner opened his mouth to speak but he quickly closed it, unable to form some words to his mouth.

“Aaron-” You started but Warner was quick to shut you up by raising his index finger.

“Don’t say anything.” he told you with a sorry eyes and he left.

He fucking left.

___

Never before have you experienced being so entirely consumed by a kiss. Suddenly, the void that existed between the two of you ruptures into a whirlwind of sensations. Warner’s heart skips its rhythmic beats; his hands desperately pull you closer, attempting to erase any remaining distance.

The taste of you on his lips is a revelation, making him aware of a profound hunger that had been gnawing at him. Though there have been previous kisses, none have ignited him with such an all-encompassing fire. The passage of time becomes a blurred concept—perhaps it’s a fleeting minute, or it could be an endless hour.

The only certainty is the memory of that kiss, the gentle caress of your skin against his, and the realization that, even without prior knowledge, he has been longing for this very moment throughout eternity.

Kissing You is like getting struck a million times by lightning. The way our lips initially brush before melting together has a thrilling intensity. His ears are able to hear the beat of your heart.

His stomach’s begging fire keeps burning hot and boldly, seeping through layers of muscle radiating heat off his skin. It burns inside him like a forest fire and radiates the aroma of sin and the sanctuary.

In contrast, every breath taken by you; the person whose lips taste like sea salt and fresh snow causes his lungs to fill with water, causing him to be drowned helplessly.

As consuming as it is, Aaron Warner’s primal desires carve a divide between you and harsher traits. He becomes a pristine canvas under your touch, molded by your influence, and he has never been this close to God before.

He knows a religion and God has no use to people like him, but God, you are a temple and He is a sinner in need somewhere to worship.

He feels your soul entangle and untangle an endless cataclysmic cycle as both of your tongues engage in a wedding dance, sending him to the highest of highs and sending him drifting

down,

down,

down.

Down into a glorious drop.

He is sent into a stupor by your hands because they are destitute and devouring. His desires, deceitfully sweet, stain his clothing with sin and sweetness Warner welcomes the waves with all the lightning, fire, drowning, and heaven-and-hell he can muster despite the waves getting rougher and calmer with each passing minute.

Aaron Warner is at your mercy.

___

Weeks goes by since the kiss happened on Valentines day, warner has found himself thinking about you than a normal person would be. Now, he’s strutting down the hallways of the school and then, he sees You and Astrid Rhodes. She was sucking at your neck. He tightened his lips and left the scene quickly.

However, he couldn’t help but believe Astrid Rhodes wasn’t worthy of tasting your skin.

No, not at all.

___

Warner have decided to hate Astrid Rhodes with burning passion. The way she always flirt with other people despite having a situation-ship with you, the way she have always used your name in her needs, the way she asked for your money, the way she manipulates you, the way she mock you behind your back and the way that she always swear in every word she ever uttered. It’s like she’s a kid who learned a new word that she keeps using.

Praying for Astrid Rhodes’ downfall is not enough, he needed to participate in it.

So, Warner took things into his hands.

As Astrid’s accusatory words sliced through the charged atmosphere, Warner’s gaze remained unyielding, a calm facade masking the tumultuous storm beneath. Her reaction was expected – after all, he had just confronted her about something he had witnessed, something that had ignited the flames of his determination to expose the truth.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Warner!?” She shouted at him, voice rose with anger. “You are fucking crazy, stop making up things you fucker” Rhodes continued. Warner has caught her making out with someone, and apparently Rhodes did not take it well when he told her that he’s going to tell you of what he saw.

“Does that make you feel better?” Warner said, bored eyes clear on his face.

“Excuse me?” Astrid furrowed her eyebrows.

“Cursing. Is it an essential component you can’t live without? The constant repetition of those crude and vulgar language in every sentence you utter is truly unbearable.” Warner’s voice speaks so confidently as he towers over Rhodes, whose eyes filled with rage.

“You know, Y/N does not like people who swear a lot. I’m sure she will break up with you sooner or later, no doubt.”

The palpable tension in the room hung heavy, almost suffocating, as Aaron Warner faced Astrid Rhodes with an intensity that matched the burning passion he felt within. There was no denying the ire that had taken root in his heart, festering with each of Astrid’s actions that grated on his nerves like sandpaper against his skin.

Astrid’s eyes sparked with a mixture of fury and defiance, her nostrils flaring as her fists clenched at her sides.

“Oh, so you're the judge of what's insufferable now?” she spat, her voice laced with venom. “Is that your new role in this little drama?”

Warner’s expression remained unflinching, his gaze piercing through the chaos of their exchange. “It’s merely an observation,” he replied calmly. "And observations tend to highlight patterns. In your case, it’s the pattern of manipulation, profanity, and disrespect."

Astrid's eyes blazed with a fire that matched her fiery words. “And why the fuck do you care, Warner? It’s not your life, your relationship, your problem. So, fuck off.”

Warner's lips curved into a knowing smile, a spark of challenge in his eyes. “Oh, but that’s where you’re mistaken, Astrid. It has become my problem when it involves someone who’s… family’s close to mine.”

The air between them crackled with tension, his words hanging in the space between them like a charged current. Astrid’s posture wavered for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features before she straightened herself, her defense mechanisms snapping back into place.

“Y/N doesn't need you fighting her battles, Warner,” Astrid retorted, her tone dripping with disdain. “If she hasn’t noticed your chivalrous efforts by now, maybe it’s time to accept that you're not the hero she’s been waiting for.”

Warner’s gaze remained unwavering, his voice tinged with a mixture of resolve and frustration. “Maybe it’s time for you to understand that genuine care doesn’t require fanfare, Rhodes. And maybe it’s time for you to grasp that the person you're manipulating and using deserves better than this.”

Astrid’s eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and disbelief, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. “You don't know anything about us, Warner.” Warner leaned in slightly, his voice a low, deliberate murmur. “I know enough to see through the facade. I know enough to recognize when someone is taking advantage of someone else’s kindness.”

Astrid's laughter was bitter, a sound that resonated with a hint of desperation. “You’re so damn self-righteous, aren’t you? Acting as if you’re the hero of your own story, here to save the day.”

Warner’s expression was unyielding, his words measured and unwavering. “I’m not here to be a hero, Rhodes. I’m here to ensure that someone isn't being hurt by someone who claims to care about them.”

The silence that followed hung thick in the air, a poignant reminder of the tangled emotions and complex dynamics at play. Warner’s gaze never wavered, his stance unyielding as he awaited Astrid’s response.

Finally, she spoke, her voice laced with a mix of defiance and resignation.

“You’re deluded if you think you can change anything, Warner. Y/N will see through your charade sooner or later.”

Warner’s lips curved into a rueful smile, he laughed incredulously, making Rhodes look stupid. “That’s so much coming from you, hypocrite.”

As his words flew out of his mouth, the room felt heavy with the weight of tension. Astrid Rhodes stormed out after that.

___

A day after that, Warner heard a commotion outside the library, he heard a shout that he knew who the owner was as he had received the same one just yesterday, Astrid Rhodes. As he entered the common room, Warner got greeted by Astrid Rhodes shouting profanities, rude things, and accusing you of cheating on her. Warner couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Rhodes has the nerve and audacity, doesn’t she?

Choosing to remain inconspicuous, Warner settled into a quiet corner where he could observe the unfolding drama without drawing attention to himself. It seemed the entire room was aware that Astrid was weaving a web of lies, yet they were captivated by the scene as it played out. Glancing up at you, he noted your bored and unamused expression, flanked by friends who were shooting daggers at the girl.

“How could you fucking do this to me!? After all we’ve been through! You are so fucking unbelievable!” Rhodes shouted as she sobs at her hands.

Warner heard a few murmurs beside him.

“Damn she’s committed to this act, isn’t she?”

“Best actress goes to Astrid Rhodes!”

“Nah, this is wild. She have the fucking audacity it’s funny.”

“Do she expect everyone to believe her bullshit this time”

“She’s so bad at this shit. I’m out”

“People like her give theater kids a bad name.”

“Kudos to her for having the fucking nerve to pull a stunt like this ‘cause I would never”

“I’m done with you! We’re done, y/n. I’m never seeing you again.” Rhodes added, she has also added a few more insults and vulgar words. She looked at you expecting an answer.

Warner saw you sighed and put both of your hands to your lap as you stood up,

“Are you done with your theatratics now?”

You question with a monotone voice, laughter can be heard from few people.

Astrid only stared at you bewildered and ran outside the room while shut the door harshly. Everyone is now laughing while they gossip about what just happened.

“Alright, Show is over, everyone!” Kishimoto shouted.

Warner comes out of the corner, taking a step to you, “y/n?” He called out. Warner was sent with a curious look from everyone. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “care to join me outside?” You nodded as you followed Aaron Warner outside to go to the field.

“Well, that’s quite a funny show.” He started, you laughed at his statement.

“Yeah, we’ll, I’ve been expecting it, really” you said while laughing.

“Congratulations either way, you’re finally free from that psycho.” He said, green eyes looking at you once again, amused.

“Oh why thank you, dear.” You replied with the same tone he used.

“Honestly, I don’t know how she thought that would work,” you said with an incredulous shake of your head. “It was like watching a bad soap opera.”

Warner chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling. “I must admit, she’s not exactly the most convincing actress.”

“She should probably stick to other pursuits,” you added with a teasing grin.

“I agree. Perhaps she could take up interpretive dance or something equally entertaining,” Warner replied, a playful glint in his gaze.

You both shared a genuine laugh, silence then took over the air as you guys settled in a particular tree, you both took a seat to its shadow.

“Sooo…” you started, awkwardness settling the air.

Warner laughed at this. A smile took over his face and then you stopped laughing, noticing something in his face. Dimples. Aaron Warner has dimples. Oh sweet Jesus.

Warner took notice of this, “what’s wrong?” He asked. You shake your head as you drag your finger to poke at his dimples. Warner froze at this action, you took away your finger from his cheek as you looked away for a moment, feeling embarrassed.

“Sorry. Just noticed your dimples. It’s cute.” You started with rosy cheeks painted on your face.

“Yeah?” He asked smugly. Oh god this egotistical man. You only hummed in response.

Silence took over once again.

“So, are we gonna talk about what happened on Valentine’s Day?” You started once again. Warner however visibly froze at this.

“Listen, y/n, I apologize for my action, really. It was a mist-“ before he could finish his sentence you cut him with a question.

“Do you regret it?” You asked. Warner looked hesitant for a second before he opened his mouth.

“No. I didn’t.” In fact, he would do it over and over again if you would let him.

Warner opened his mouth to apologize again but you once again cut him off but this time, by kissing him.

You have kissed him. You have kissed Aaron Warner. You kissed him. And you keep kissing him.

Everything is now shattered.

Warner was surprised with this but he then went with it.

You then climbed up to his lap as he pulled you closer to him, hands now at your lower back and to your waist.

As your lips journeyed down the curve of his neck, Warner experienced a sensation akin to hot wax trailing over his skin. The heat of your touch left an indelible mark on his senses, searing a path that he longed to be etched into his very being. There was an urgency in his desire, a need for that imprint to be imprinted with a fervency that matched the fire igniting within him.

Every brush of your lips felt like a deliberate touch of molten heat, the intensity of your movements branding him in a way that transcended the physical realm. It was as though your touch held the power to carve a mark into his very soul, to leave an impression that would linger long after the moment had passed.

Warner's thoughts raced, the pounding of his heart matching the rhythm of your explorations. He found himself craving the sensation of your touch, yearning for it to leave a lasting reminder of this shared intimacy. He wanted more than just a fleeting connection – he wanted a testament, a symbol that would endure even when the fervor of the moment subsided.

In that instant, he realized that this was more than just a physical exchange. It was a declaration, a silent plea for permanence, a desire to mark this moment in a way that words could never encapsulate. The sensation of your lips against his skin was both an offering and a promise.

As your lips continued their descent, Warner surrendered to the overwhelming tide of emotions surging within him. He allowed himself to be consumed by the heat of the moment, the fervent desire for a mark that would transcend the boundaries of time and space. He craved the sensation of your touch, the imprints of your presence on his skin serving as a tangible reminder of this shared vulnerability.

And as your lips met the juncture where his neck met his collarbone, a surge of longing coursed through him. He wanted this mark to be a testament to more than just physical desire – he wanted it to encapsulate the layers of emotion that had woven themselves into their complex dynamic.

In that moment, as your lips lingered against his skin, Warner felt a mixture of vulnerability and strength. He surrendered to the intensity of his desire, allowing it to consume him in a way he had never thought possible.

You both stayed like that for a while, not until Kishimoto's voice was heard calling your name from a distance. When you both pull away you guys have a red face and we’re breathing heavily.

As you walked away, Warner was left with the lingering heat of your touch, the mark you had left behind serving as a testament to the moment they had shared. And as he traced the invisible imprint with his fingertips. What just happened?

___

Week later, Astrid Rhodes got expelled from the school. The reason? No one knows.

Not long after that incident, Warner heard the most horrid thing ever known to a man the moment he heard that you began your very long and confusing on and off relationship with Kenji Kishimoto.

God damn it.

Juliette Ferrars.

You and Kishimoto broke up once again for the second time this year, a month in from your break up, you have a new girlfriend. The same can also be said from kishimoto.

He remembered very well that it was the day on March 21st when you announced your relationship with Juliette Ferrars. Juliette Bloody Ferrars. Juliette Perfect Ferrars. Your newest girlfriend.

Juliette was really a step up from Rhodes, everybody could agree on that.

Ferrars was gorgeous, ambitious, confident.

And she was extremely smart, Juliette Ferrars was the dream of any parents for their children. You even had taken her to meet your parents.

____

Juliette Ferrars Birthday Party,

May of 8th, Circa 2038.

The night was alive with the promise of celebration as he made his way to Ferrar’s birthday party. The stars above were scattered like diamonds across the velvety canvas of the sky, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of freshly cut grass and laughter. The venue glowed with twinkling fairy lights, casting a warm and inviting glow that welcomed all who approached.

As Warner walked up to the entrance, the sounds of music and chatter grew louder, creating a vibrant backdrop for the festivities. The door swung open, revealing a scene of merriment. Colorful decorations adorned the walls, and a table groaned under the weight of tantalizing treats and a towering birthday cake.

Warner stepped into the vibrant atmosphere of the party, the lively energy wrapping around him like a warm embrace. The chatter of friends catching up and the clinking of glasses created a harmonious symphony that echoed through the room. Balloons in a riot of colors hovered above, swaying gently as if dancing to the rhythm of the music.

As soon as he entered, he saw you.

Amidst the lively crowd, Warner’s eyes were drawn to you. There you were, amidst a whirlwind of movement, dancing with none other than the birthday girl, Juliette Ferrars. Your smile was a beacon of pure joy, radiating the kind of happiness that could light up the entire room. Warner’s heart seemed to skip a beat as he watched the two of you move in sync, the laughter on your lips infectious.

Juliette, with her graceful movements, complemented your dance perfectly. It was as if the two of you were lost in a world of your own, the surrounding party fading into the background. As soon as you twirl Ferrars around, you kiss her and when you pull away, you guys laugh, you look around the room and you’ve caught a familiar gorgeous green eyes. You smiled At Warner, about to wave at him but Ferrars caught you in another kiss.

It hit him like a knife to the heart. He hoped his face didn’t express the disappointment he felt.

Why does he feel like this?

He doesn’t care. He should not. Aaron keeps thinking the same dialogue over and over again in his head. He doesn’t care. He really didn't, So, he found himself in a mini bar drinking his bitterness away.

The soft glow of the bar’s neon sign beckoned like a warm beacon on a cool evening, the gentle hum of chatter and clinking glasses creating a comfortable backdrop. The air was thick with the aroma of various drinks, and the low murmur of conversations of the other guest beside him.

Settling onto a barstool, Warner ordered another one of his preferred drinks and watched as the bartender expertly mixed it. The clinking of ice cubes and the sound of liquid pouring were oddly soothing. God, he’s dru—no, just tipsy.

As Warner took another sip, a presence approached the bar. It was Ferrars. Hell, what would she want from him now? Parade her win? She slipped onto the stool beside him, a smile playing on her lips. “Well, well, fancy meeting you here.” Warner only hummed in response that made Ferrars scoff. He heard her ordered a drink for herself.

“Why don’t you join us outside, Warner? Instead of just sticking yourself in this bar.” Ferrars started as she took a sip of her drink after saying those words.

“This party is boring.” Warner said, plainly.

“This is my birthday party.” Juliette deadpanned.

“Oh, right.” Warner only received an eyebrow raise in response, expecting something from him. Hell.

“Happy birthday.” Warner said with a sarcastic and plain tone.

“Wow. Okay. Thank you.” Juliette says, “My lo—y/n talked about you.” Ferrars continued. Warner had caught the slipped up of the pet name. My love. Hell, Warner is gonna vomit.

“Only good ones I hope.” He replied as he took a sip to his drink.

“She told me The Camping Trip incident.” Juliette says as she laughed, recalling the story that you have told her.

Warner was surprised. “Oh that,” he chuckled, the memories flooding back. “We practically lived on marshmallows and terrible ghost stories.”

Ferrars laughed, her expression a mixture of fondness and amusement. “And that time you guys got lost in the woods, and you were convinced that you all were in some kind of Blair Witch scenario.” Warner scowled in response.

“Hey, it was dark, and those trees all look the same!” Warner reasoned. Juliette only laughed harder.

“Didn’t you try fighting a bear? Surely you can’t reason that stupid action.” She says as she looks at Warner, challenging him.

“I was young.” Warner defended himself. Juliette only hummed as she drank her glass.

“You were young and stupid, Aaron.” The next voice that sounded through the kitchen made Warner’s heart stop for a moment. Warner saw Ferrars go to you to link her arm through yours.

He needs another drink.

“Was I?” He countered with a smirk.

You laughed in return, mirroring his smirk.

“My darling, shall we dance? It will be midnight soon. My birthday would end in like 30 minutes.” Juliette said, looking between You and Warner with a frown.

“Oh, sure, love,” you kissed her lips and led her back to the party. Warner felt himself breathing again when you were out of sight.

____

In a matter of moments, Warner found himself aimlessly wandering through the sprawling house, Laughter echoed in the halls, intertwined with the gentle strains of music.

Every door he passed seemed to hold a couple engrossed in their own world, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sheer display of affection in hoping to discover a new vacant bathroom that wasn't occupied by overly affectionate couples lost in each other's company, as the party started to wind down, Warner found himself outside Juliette Ferrars room.

He was not intentionally eavesdropping, but the voices from inside were hard to ignore.

“It’s just... it’s complicated, okay?” your voice sounded frustrated.

“And I get that, but it feels like you are not fully here with me,” Juliette's voice responded, a blend of hurt and concern woven into her tone.

“And the way you looked at—” Juliette's voice trembled, and her words came to an abrupt halt, as if she were struggling to contain her emotions. Aaron paused, his gaze settling on the partially open door of Ferrars' bedroom.

Warner found himself in an inadvertent state of eavesdropping, his guilt mingling with his intrigue. The words exchanged between you and Juliette were raw and real, and he couldn't help but listen, drawn into the unguarded exchange.

“Juli, it’s not what you’re thinking,” you softly said.

“ Is it not?” she said. You guys were in the middle of the room, fighting if that is not clear enough.

“I thought-” she choked a bit. Voice trembling.

"Juls-"

"No, baby," Juliette responded, her tone unwavering, your emotions laid bare. “We were... I thought—“

A heavy pause followed, and Warner could almost feel the weight of the conversation. Warner hears ferrars sighs.

“you even let me met your parents, and I remember thinking that our future seemed fucking promising..”

“We still can—We still have that future.” you insist, determined.

Juliette let out a pained laugh.

“No, we don’t, because you have never looked at me the way you looked at him tonight.” Juliette’s voice trembled, revealing a vulnerability she rarely displayed. But despite that, she delivered the line harshly.

Warner's brows furrowed as he tried to piece together the puzzle. Who were you and Juliette talking about? He couldn't shake off the curiosity that gnawed at him, urging him to understand the source of your conflict.

Is it Kenji Kishimoto?

Warner’s curiosity got the better of him as he strained to hear the conversation. You guys were arguing about some 'him' , but the details were hazy. He couldn’t help but wonder who that ‘someone’ was.

“Please, just listen-” your voice was soft, a plea laced with frustration.

"You're not dishonest, my love," she interjected, her tone adopting a more tender and sweet quality. "Just tell me you prefer me, you choose me, you love me more than you love him. If you can, I'll put it all behind us. I will forget about it."

You went dead silent.

The silence that followed your response was deafening. Warner could practically feel the tension in the room, the unspoken emotions hanging in the air like a heavy cloud. It was as if a connection had snapped between you two, leaving behind a void that neither of you knew how to bridge

“I’m so sorry,” you finally whispered. The weight of your words is palpable.

Juliette sighed. Expecting the answer, Warner can see her holding down the sobs.

“Let’s just enjoy the rest of the party, shall we?” Ferrars voice was tinged in sadness. “We can talk about this later. Let's have a last dance.”

He swiftly turned away from the door, his steps quickening as he made his way down the hallway. He needed to retreat, to give you both the privacy you deserved. Warner got away quickly to the bathroom

Inside the bathroom, he washed his hands, his gaze lingering on his reflection in the mirror. Confusion knitted his brows together as he replayed the fragments of your conversation in his mind.

Were you guys talking about kishimoto?

The thought struck him like a jolt. Could it be that you were struggling to move on from him? The image of Kenji, charismatic and charming, filled Warner's thoughts, and he couldn't help but question the impact he had on your relationship with Juliette.

Is it because you just couldn’t get over him?

If you broke up with Juliette Perfect Ferrars because of Kenji Kishimoto, did anyone else have ever stood a chance with you?

Did he-No.

Warner wouldn’t think like that.

He should not care. It doesn’t concern him.

Warner shook his head, trying to dismiss the idea as he dried his hands. He refused to entertain thoughts that would only lead to unnecessary doubts and insecurities. But deep down, a nagging curiosity lingered—a curiosity that would drive him to madness and insanity.

Days later, Warner learned from Kent and Nazeera that you and Juliette had ended your relationship.

Few weeks after that revelation, news reached him that You and Kenji Kishimoto had gotten back together.

It was clear to him that you always gravitate back to kishimoto.

Killian Déicides.

The cycle has repeated once more—You and Kishimoto have broken up. Again. And months later, you have gotten yourself a new boyfriend. Killian Déicides.

It was the longest you had been apart from Kishimoto, nearly five months—not that Warner was counting.

During this period, Kishimoto had found himself a new girlfriend in the companionship of Nazeera Ibrahim, ushering in a new chapter of his own. The pairing had managed to raise eyebrows and ignite conversations, sparking intrigue among your shared circle from other people.

Apparently, you were okay with this. Which is something that surprised Warner. I mean, your ex-boyfriend is dating your best friend? And you’re fine with this? Ridiculous.

From a distance, he observed with a tinge of bitterness as you and Killian forged a bond. Every shared laugh, tender touch, and exchanged glance felt like a jab to his chest. The narrative of your relationship unfolded before him like a story he wished he could tear apart, but all he could do was watch as it progressed, unable to rewrite its course.

As he observed Killian, a critical eye analyzed his character, highlighting his perceived shortcomings and fueling his bitterness.

He hates him. Hates the way Déicides can feel your laugh against his lips, hates the way he can rest his forehead to yours and gaze to your eyes as much as he wants, hates that he can make you shiver from his touch, hates him.

Warner didn’t know why it bothers him so much, why it bothers him the way déicides whisper sweet nothings to your ears or the way he has you secured in his arms. It’s ridiculous.

__

Valentines Day, Circa 2039.

The day had draped itself in an air of romance, as couples nestled close to one another, entwined in the celebration of love. It was Valentine's Day, a day that Aaron Warner typically avoided with fervor. Yet here he was, standing alone on the terrace by the garden, attempting to escape the saccharine atmosphere that permeated the place and some insufferable couples. (you and Killian to be exact.)

From his point of view, he could see the couples—some nestled on the couches, the field, library, others dancing under the soft glow of string lights. It was an annoying sight.

He leaned against the terrace railing, gazing out at the garden below. The sun cast a warm sheen over the blossoms, giving the scenery a dreamlike quality. The peace and quiet were a welcome respite from the relentless cheerfulness that had filled the school’s interior.

Yet, the serenity was short-lived. The soft pad of footsteps interrupted the stillness, and a voice spoke up from behind him.

"Valentine's should be about going out and making out with some strangers, y'know."

Startled, Warner turned to find you standing there, a small smile playing on your lips as you joined him on the terrace. The surprise of your presence coupled with the lightness of your words momentarily rendered him speechless.

You stepped closer, your eyes scanning the garden as if searching for those elusive strangers "I mean, why waste it on being alone here when there are so many intriguing strangers out there for you to kiss?" Your tone was light, but there was a hint of mischief in your eyes.

Warner couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle, his usual guard momentarily lowered in your presence. "I suppose you have a point," he conceded, allowing a smile to tug at the corner of his lips. "But then again, I've never been one for making out with strangers."

You laughed softly, the sound carrying a warmth that wrapped around his heart. "Fair enough," you replied, your gaze now focused on him. "So, what brings you to the terrace on this fine Valentine's Day?"

Warner glanced out at the garden, then back at you. "Just needed a breather," he admitted. "The whole lovey-dovey atmosphere inside was starting to feel suffocating."

You nodded in understanding, your eyes softening as they met him. "I get that," you said. "It can be a bit overwhelming, can't it?"

"More than a bit," Warner replied with a rueful smile. "But I suppose it's all in good fun for those who enjoy it."

You leaned against the terrace railing beside him, your shoulder brushing against his lightly. "True," you said, your voice quiet. "But sometimes, it's nice to have a quiet moment away from it all."

Warner couldn't agree more. As he looked at you, bathed in the soft glow of the sun’s warm light, he realized that this quiet moment with you was the best part of the day. He had always admired your ability to see beyond the surface, to appreciate the simple moments amidst the chaos.

A comfortable silence settled between you and him, broken only by the distant strains of music and laughter from inside. Warner found himself stealing glances at you, his heart aching with a longing he had buried deep within himself.

Finally, he couldn't contain it any longer. "You and Killian seem happy," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your gaze turned to him, and you offered a small, genuine smile. "We are," you replied. "He's been wonderful."

Warner nodded, his eyes tracing the delicate features of your face. "I'm glad," he said, his words carrying a sincerity that surprised even him.

You looked at him for a moment, a knowing expression in your eyes. "But…" you prompted, your voice gentle.

Warner hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. "But…?" He urged you,

”There are moments when I can't help but wonder what it would be like if things were different.”

You met his gaze steadily, your eyes filled with a depth of emotion that mirrored his own. "I know what you mean," Warner said softly.

The admission hung in the air between them, unspoken yet understood. Warner's heart swelled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. Could there be a chance for something more, or was this moment destined to remain a fleeting glimpse into what could have been?

As if sensing his turmoil, you reached out and gently touched his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. The connection sent a jolt of warmth through him, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Maybe," he said, his voice barely audible,

"Someday, things will be different."

You nodded, a sense of peace washing over you. “Someday,” you agreed, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

Together, you stood on the terrace, bathed in the soft glow of the sun, sharing a quiet moment that held the promise of something more—an unspoken hope for a future where the timing was right and love could flourish without barriers.

Until,,,

Warner's heart sank as he heard Killian's voice in the distance, calling your name. He watched as you turned around, your smile brightening as you waited for him to join you on the terrace.

In that moment, all of Warner's hopes and fantasies of having this day with you, just you, were shattered.

He had allowed himself to believe, just for a brief moment, that maybe this Valentine's Day could be different. That perhaps he could have had a chance to be the one by your side, sharing this quiet, intimate moment with you. But reality had a cruel way of reminding him.

As Killian approached, his arm slipping around your waist, It was a feeling he had grown accustomed to, but that didn't make it any less annoying.

You introduced Dèicides to Warner, the two men exchanging polite greetings. Warner forced a smile, concealing the tumult of emotions swirling within him. He couldn't let you or Killian see how much this moment had irritated him.

Warner watched, a pang of knife hitting him as you and Killian shared a tender kiss. His eyes couldn't help but linger on the intimate moment between the two of you.

"Why do you keep kissing me?" you asked, breaking the kiss and gazing into Killian's eyes.

"Because I love kissing you," Killian replied with a soft, affectionate smile.

So do I.

Damn me, So do I.

Warner thought, his mind betraying him in that vulnerable moment.

He felt a pang of aching, a surge of bitterness, but above all, he felt an overwhelming longing and desire.

Oh, what a person he has become.

I don’t want you to see who I have become. It’s bad, my love. It’s so bad.

He knew he shouldn't be feeling this way. You were with Déicides now. Warner turned away, his fists clenched at his sides, as he fought to suppress his emotions. He needed to remind himself that he should not care. It’s none of his business.

Warner excused himself, citing the need to rejoin the festivities inside. He couldn't bear to stay on the terrace any longer, not when it was now tainted with the knowledge that he would never have this day with you alone.

As he retreated into the dining hall, the sounds of laughter and celebration seemed distant and hollow. Warner found solace in the shadows, cherishing the bittersweet memory of that fleeting moment on the terrace—a moment he had desperately wished could have been his, and his alone.

For a moment there, Aaron Warner really thought he’d have this day with you. Only you.

He’s proven wrong yet again.

__

A month had passed since Valentine’s Day, Warner had done a pretty good job avoiding you and your boyfriend. But despite that, Warner couldn't help but notice the change in your relationship. He observed the way your interactions had shifted, like a puzzle piece that no longer fit quite right. There was an undercurrent of insecurity in your touches, and the kisses that once landed on the lips were now exchanged on the cheeks. Your stolen glances lacked the usual warmth and affection, replaced by something more guarded.

The change in your dynamics didn't go unnoticed by the people around you. Whispers and rumors began to circulate throughout the school, with everyone speculating about what had gone wrong this time. Even Kent, who rarely spoke to either you or Killian, had developed his own theories, all of them far from the truth.

Warner found himself torn between the desire to reach out and ask if you were okay and the understanding that he had no right to intrude on your relationship with Killian. He couldn't deny the pang of jealousy that twisted in his chest when he saw you with someone else, even though he had no claim over you.

One day, as he was walking through the school courtyard, Warner overheard a group of students discussing your relationship.

"I heard they've been fighting a lot lately," one girl said, her voice hushed.

"Really? What about?" another girl asked.

"I don't know, but it's not the same as it used to be. They used to be so lovey-dovey, and now they barely even hold hands," the first girl replied.

Warner continued walking, trying to drown out the conversation.

It annoys to hear others talking about you, dissecting your relationship as if it were a gossip column. But he couldn't deny that he was also curious about what had caused the shift between you and Killian.

A week later, news began to spread throughout the school like wildfire: Killian Déicides had transferred to another school. The reasons behind his departure remained a mystery to most, but the end of your relationship with him was clear. The whispers and rumors that had once surrounded you and Killian now shifted to the breakup, and it seemed like everyone had something to say about it.

Aaron Warner couldn't ignore the news, even though he had been trying to keep his distance. It was impossible not to feel a mixture of sympathy and concern for you, knowing that you were going through a difficult time.

One evening, as he was wandering the school grounds, Warner found himself drawn to the astronomy tower. It was a quiet and secluded spot, far away from the prying eyes and gossip of the other students. He climbed the steps and pushed open the door, finding you standing by one of the telescopes, gazing up at the night sky.

You looked up as he entered, your eyes red-rimmed and puffy from crying. Warner's heart clenched at the sight of your distress, and all thoughts of staying away flew out of his mind.

“Can I hold you close?” He quietly asked.

You blinked once, twice—thrice, it takes a full seconds to process what he had said.

“Oh, I’m so—“

“Of course, you can.”

Now, it’s his turn to blink. You laughed at the sight.

Warner simply walked over and enveloped you in a warm, comforting hug. You buried your face in his chest, and he could feel your tears dampening his shirt.

You didn't say anything, and neither did he. You don’t have to say anything. You know Warner is also fluent in silence as much as you are.

He didn't need to ask what had happened; the news of Killian's departure had spread quickly, and he could only imagine how you must be feeling. Instead, he held you tightly, offering silent support and understanding.

After a while, when your tears had subsided, Warner gently pulled away, his hands resting on your shoulders. He looked into your eyes with a mixture of concern and compassion.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

You shook your head, your voice barely more than a whisper. "No, I'm not."

Warner nodded, his expression filled with empathy. He didn't press for details; he knew that sometimes, all you needed was someone to be there for you. He reached out and wiped away a stray tear from your cheek.

"It's okay not to be okay," he said gently. "And you don't have to go through this alone."

You gave him a small, grateful smile, and it warmed his heart. Warner knew that he couldn't fix everything, but he could be there for you in this moment of vulnerability.

As you both stood in the quiet of the astronomy tower, Warner continued to offer his support. He listened as you talked about your feelings, your frustrations, and your uncertainties about the future. He didn't offer empty reassurances or quick fixes; instead, he let you express yourself, knowing that sometimes, that was all you needed.

After a while, Warner spoke up “I mean, who needs him anyway?” He said, trying to make the atmosphere lighter.

To be fair, Aaron’s perspective on you and Killian’s break up are extremely biased because he only heard one side of the story.

“Yeah, fuck him and his stupid excuses. I don’t need him anyway.” You agreed as you laughed with warner. Dimples.

If you ever fall to your knees, you are sure Nazeera would be there to kneel beside you.

If you get lost in the woods or drowns In the ocean, you are sure that Juliette and Kenji will do whatever it takes to find you and bring you back to the surface.

And if you return to Aaron Warner with a broken heart, you are sure that he will piece them back together with his bare hands—even going out his way to fill in the gaps with his own.

“Right,” he mutters as he watches the whole sky through your eyes. “You have me, at least.” Warner added.

“No,” you correct Aaron, “thank all the gods I have you. Always.”

___

3 weeks after that, You and Kenji Kishimoto have gotten back together.

You always come back to kenji.

You always come back to kishimoto even when you have other (better) options.

Kenji Kishimoto.

PRESENT.

Out of every Exes you ever had, Aaron Warner, has always found himself praying for Kenji Kishimoto’s downfall more.

It was messy. Warner knows it. Hell, even the parents know that you and Kishimoto have a complicated relationship. You guys would break up and then boom, months later you guys are back together.

It was an annoying sight. In all 3 years you and kishimoto are together, there would be no year where you and him have never broken up then getting back together after a few months in.

Kent and Ferrars have decided to join the dance, leaving Warner on his own. Warner quickly found a couch he could sit on. He’s now reading some magazines that were on the table.

“Warner, fancy seeing you here,” a voice drawled, its arrogance evident even in the casual greeting.

Warner’s eyes flicked up from the magazine he had been pretending to read, meeting Kishimoto’s gaze with a thinly veiled look of indifference.

“Kishimoto.” Warner greeted.

Kenji leaned against a nearby wall, his posture casual and infuriatingly confident. “Please, Don’t let me interrupt your reading session, blondie.”

Warner closed the magazine, his patience waning.

”What do you want, Kishimoto?”

Kishimoto lips curled into a smug smile, his gaze holding a glint of something that irked Warner.

“I just thought we could have a little chat.”

Warner's eyes narrowed, his tone terse. “I highly doubt we have anything to discuss.”

Kishimoto chuckled, unfazed by Warner’s obvious disdain. “You know, Blondie, it’s fascinating how much you seem to dislike me.”

Warner's jaw clenched, his voice icy. “How Observant of you.”

Kenji's smile widened, his amusement unwavering.

“Tell me, is it because you’re jealous? You know, you’ve never been one to shy away from competition.”

Warner’s restraint wavered, his temper simmering beneath the surface. ”You’re sorely mistaken if you think I see you as competition.”

Kenji's expression shifted, a flash of something that seemed almost like amusement mixed with genuine curiosity. “Then what is it, Warner? Why do you hate me so much?”

Warner’s gaze hardened, his voice dripping with thinly veiled contempt. “You have nothing to do with me, kishimoto. My opinions on you are of no consequence.”

Kenji's gaze held Warner's, the unspoken tension hanging heavy between them. With a sigh, he took a seat in front of Warner. “You’re not very good at pretending, you know.”

Warner's brows furrowed in confusion at the unexpected statement. “Pretending? What are you talking about?”

Kenji leaned back, his posture relaxed. “You can't stand the fact that we've got a history, can you?”

Warner's irritation flared. “History? You mean the endless cycle of dramatic reunions?”

Kenji chuckled. “Exactly. And you hate it, don't you? You hate that there's a part of her life that doesn’t revolve around you.”

Warner's frustration grew, his voice edged with a sharpness. “You're delusional if you think I'm hung up on that.”

Kenji's gaze never wavered, his tone softening slightly.

“You love her.” Kenji said, more of a statement than a question.

Warner laughed with the absurdity, “I’m not in love with her,” he said, “Don't read into things you know nothing about.” Warner Added with a mockery tone.

“Oh, I know more than you think.” Kishimoto said with a smirk.

“Do you ever shut up?” Warner countered back, as he leaned back at his chair.

“Not when it comes to you, asshole.” Kishimoto shot back as he copied Warner's previous action.

“I’m not in the mood to play games with you, kishimoto.” He warned.

Kishimoto only laughed, “are you ever?” He mused making Warner roll his eyes, “besides it’s not a game, it’s just facts.”

“Your interpretation of facts is seriously twisted,” Warner hissed, his voice edged with exasperation.

Kenji's lips curled into an infuriatingly smug smile. “Deny it all you want, but deep down, you know it's true.”

Warner's green eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in frustration. “Just stay out of my way.”

Kenji's laughter echoed off the walls. “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“You're pushing your luck, Kishimoto,” Warner warned through gritted teeth.

Kenji's gaze remained steady, unyielding. “Or maybe I'm pushing your buttons.”

Warner's patience was wearing thin. “You're not as clever as you think.”

Kenji's grin only widened. “Oh, I'm clever enough to see through your act.”

“I have no act, just disdain for you.”

Kenji's retort came quick and smug. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Their words clashed like swords, each one determined not to back down.

“Are you ever serious?”

Kenji's tone held an undertone of mockery. “Why so serious, Warner?”

“I'm warning you,” Warner growled, his patience on the edge.

Kenji's eyebrows lifted playfully. “Are you now? What are you going to do about it?”

“You're impossible.”

Kenji's lips quirked into a knowing smirk. “Impossible to ignore, maybe?”

Warner shook his head in disbelief. “Why can't you just leave me alone?”

Kenji's smile remained infuriatingly intact. “Because I enjoy getting under your skin.”

“You're deluded.”

Kenji's expression turned contemplative. “Am I? Or am I the one who's seeing things clearly?”

Warner's frustration was nearing its peak. “Enough, Kishimoto.”

Kenji's voice dropped slightly, a glint of something more sincere in his eyes. “So you understand what I'm trying to say?”

Warner's response was sharp, laced with a mixture of irritation and disdain. “I understand you enough to know I don't like you.”

Kenji's grin was unabated. “And yet, here we are, having a lovely chat.”

Warner's patience was dwindling, his words laced with finality. “Just go away, Kishimoto.”

Silence.

Kishimoto's laughter rang out as he playfully positioned himself by Warner's side. Despite Aaron's attempt to evade, Kenji's agility won out. With a swift movement, Kenji caught Warner's chin, tilting his face in the direction where you stood.

“How about admitting that y/n might have feelings for you?” Kenji quipped, his tone light but suggestive.

Warner didn’t have to admit it. Because he already knew.

Warner shooed Kishimoto’s arm as he leaned himself in, still looking at you.

This, however, did not go unnoticed by kenji.

“I’m not in love with her.” Kenji recalled warners words to his head, but he saw it in warners eyes, the way he looked at you (like right now) it was full of admiration and devotion.

“Aaron is just a friend, kenj” Kenji Remembers the way you assured him, but he saw the way you looked at your feet and turned your eyes away from him to hide the truth.

Everyone could see it. Kenji can see it.

The way Aaron Warners name rolled off your soft lips like a sweet honey,

The way Warner looked at you like it’s his first time seeing the sun,

The way your name rolled out of his tongue as if it’s a prayer.

Full of devotion.

Kenji is sure that Warner could make a religion out of the way your name sits on his tongue.

Kenji’s thoughts were abruptes by Warner who now stood up and clearly went to the terrace.

Of course, Kenji followed him.

“You need to leave me alone.” Warner exhaled.

“Nah, Let’s talk.”

“We already did.”

“Not enough. Let’s talk about you and y/n’s making out sessions.”

Warner froze, he’s surprised. Of course kishimoto would know.

“y/n always tells you everything, huh?” He breathed out.

Ah, of course, you slipped out of his arms, opting instead to trail after Kenji. The plan was to fill him in on the recent exchange – a typical move in your playbook. After all, you and Kenji had an established rhythm: breaking up only to inevitably find your way back together, rendering the current situation a temporary blip on the radar.

That was the pattern, until the next breakup.

“Only the things that actually mattered, I assume,” Kishimoto responded, his tone carrying a hint of playfulness. “You know, Honesty is the key to a good and healthy relationship.”

“You guys are far from a healthy relationship.” Warner told kenji.

“And you think you guys have?” Kenji shots back.

“We don’t have any relationship.” Warner uttered.

“Could have.” Kenji's voice turned softer, almost a whisper.

The words hung in the air, laden with unspoken meaning.

“You were supposed to be broken up.”

A sly smile curved Kenji's lips. “Ah, you would love that, wouldn’t you, Warner?”

Halloween Party, Circa 2039.

3 years. 3 long years. Where You and Kenji were in an on and off relationship. Never so long together, let alone apart. And Aaron Warner couldn’t understand how. How Kenji saw you with other people when you guys were broken up and was fine with that. And how he managed to be with other people with you just right there.

It was messy. He knows it. Things got complicated when Kenji decided to date a friend of yours, but that cooled down.

Warner now found himself in a hallway, once again, eavesdropping on You and Kishimoto’s fight. He didn’t mean it to be in this kind of situation but here he is.

“I’m tired, y/n.” Warner heard Kenji’s voice coming from inside the room. Warner was silent so as not to disturb the couple and also because he was very curious to know what was going on between them.

“It’s the same fucking talk all over aga—”

“And you don’t think I’m not tired too!? ” you cut him off, shouting. You guys were silent for a while, the tension was thick, it was almost suffocating him. So, Warner left.

Hours later, Warner found you on the terrace, your gaze lost in the starry night. He leaned against the open door frame, the soft glow from the terrace lights casting gentle shadows on your face. He smiled warmly at you.

"What's on your mind, dove?" he asked softly, not wanting to startle you.

You turned your head, surprise flickering across your features before a smile graced your lips. "Things," you replied simply, though the weight of your unspoken thoughts was evident.

"Can I join you?" Warner asked, his voice gentle.

"Always," you replied, your smile growing warmer.

Warner stepped out onto the terrace, the cool night air brushing against his skin. He settled beside you, both of you gazing out at the peaceful night sky.

"You look miserable," he observed quietly.

You chuckled softly, the sound like music to his ears. "I feel like it, too."

Warner couldn't help but laugh along with you. "Well, I'm here to keep you company, for what it's worth."

"Thank you, Aaron," you said sincerely, your eyes filled with gratitude.

"Of course," he replied, his gaze never leaving you.

There was a comfortable silence between you, the tranquility of the night providing a soothing backdrop to your thoughts.

The evening air was cool, and the stars twinkled in the night sky as you and Warner stood on the balcony, the distant sounds of laughter and music from the party below drifting up to you. It had been a night of celebration, but now, in this quiet moment alone, it felt like the perfect opportunity to speak your mind.

"Aaron, can I tell you a secret?" you finally ventured.

"Always," he responded, his tone warm and reassuring.

You took a deep breath before continuing. "Me and Kenji have been broken up since June."

Warner was hardly surprised by your confession. He had observed the signs, the strained interactions between you and Kenji. Yet, hearing it from your own lips somehow made it feel more real.

"Me and him decided not to tell anyone because we know everyone is getting tired of our bullshit," you continued, your voice tinged with a hint of self-deprecating humor.

Warner shifted his gaze to the starlit sky, his thoughts racing. He wanted to say something comforting, something that would ease the burden you were carrying, but the words eluded him.

"It's nobody's business," he finally said, his voice gentle yet supportive.

You turned to him, your eyes meeting his, and for a moment, it felt as though the weight of the world had lifted from your shoulders.

"Soon enough, you guys will get back together. You always do," Warner replied, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation.

You sighed, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. "That's the problem. I think we are done for good. Finally hitted the rock bottom."

Warner shifted slightly closer to you, your faces now mere inches apart. The soft glow from the terrace lights illuminated the anticipation in both your eyes.

"Aaron," you whispered, your breath brushing against his lips. "Kiss me."

"Kiss me, Aaron Warner."

Time seemed to stand still as you gazed into each other's eyes, the tension between you palpable. But Warner, paralyzed by his own uncertainty, remained frozen.

A few seconds later, you both heard Kenji's voice calling out your name from a distance. Warner reluctantly moved away, a mixture of longing and regret in his eyes.

"Your boyfriend's here," he said, his voice strained.

You nodded, swallowing the disappointment that welled up within you.

At the moment, you achingly wished for him to just please linger near the door uncomfortably instead of just leaving you. But of course, Warner turned and walked away, leaving you on the terrace, your heart heavy with unspoken words and unanswered desires.

As you watched him go, you couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if he had kissed you, if you had both taken that leap of faith. But for now, the timing was not in your favor, and you were left with the lingering ache of what could have been.

As Warner walked away, he harshly bumped into Kenji, not looking at him or saying sorry. He had made a decision, not a smart one. But he had made a decision and he’s already regretting it.

After the Halloween party, by Christmas, you and kenji Kishimoto are officially back together. Again.

You will and always come back to him.

Even when everyone thought (even him) you were never going to come back to him, you did. You always do and will.

___

PRESENT.

As Warner recalled the memory, he couldn't help it but echoed Kenji's question to his mind.

You would love that wouldn’t you, Warner?

“Very much so.” Warner finally admitted.

“Ohh fucking finally. Now, tell me why? What’s the reason?” Kenji dared to ask as he teased him, pushing his buttons more.

“Because none of you all deserved her.” Warner said what he had been swallowing all these years.

Nazeera didn't deserve to be your first kiss. Zayden Knox didn't deserve to be your first boyfriend. Killian Déicides didn't deserve the time he had with you. Surely Astrid Rhodes didn't deserve to have touched you. Juliette Ferrars, who didn't even fight for you. And Kenji fucking Kishimoto, who had you again, and again, and again. And as always, he without fail let you slip through his fingers.

“Wow, okay,” Kenji smirked, taking a drag from his cigarette. “Do you think I'm the one who's breaking up with her? Most of the time, it's always the other way around. If someone is breaking someone's heart, it's her, not me,” he continued, exhaling a puff of smoke. “I'm serious. It might look like I'm the heartbreaker, but it's really her. I'm not trashing her or anything.”

Warner was taken aback. None of this made sense. Could it be that a year ago, on this very day, you had wanted more than just a momentary distraction because you missed Kenji? You had wanted him, and he hadn't wanted you back. He had let you slip away, just like those he had criticized and hated.

“No,” Warner muttered, struggling to find the right words to defend you even though he knew deep inside it was right. He will always be ready to defend your honor, and always ready to reshape the reality of if you were in the wrong just so you can always be right. That’s what he had been doing for the past years.

Kenji took another drag from his cigarette, considering Warner's words. “Anyway, Y/N and I are done for good. We really can’t keep doing this for another year,” he said, his tone solemn.

"Really?" Warner asked, his heart racing in his chest.

Kenji nodded. “Yup. This year was the worst of our relationship, even though it was the one we spent the most time together.”

Kenji sighed, reflecting on your and his relationship complicated history. “I think we've always found comfort in each other, you know? It's like the memories and the time we spent with each other are what we really hold onto, not our relationship. But despite that, we'll always care for each other.”

Kenji gave a knowing look and added, “Nothing will change that.” He said as if it’s a warning to Aaron.

Warner couldn't help but ask, "Why now?" His voice was barely a whisper.

Kenji took a final drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. “Because we need to move forward, to let go,” he said, shrugging. “Because she's finally ready to fight for you, That's what I came to tell you.”

Warner's eyes widened, disbelief washing over him. "We have nothing to fight for," he replied, although it was a lie.

Kenji smiled knowingly. “You should admit it, Warner. If not to Y/N, at least to yourself.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Warner alone with his thoughts.

"Damn him," Warner muttered under his breath, a mix of frustration and longing in his heart.

Aaron Warner.

PRESENT.

He despised them all, there was no denying it. That's what it had come down to.

He acknowledged that the sensation churning in the depths of his stomach was a mixture of hatred and jealousy directed at your former partners. It had apparently been festering there for an extended period, steadily intensifying, and waiting for him to acknowledge it, or for him to stop pretending. It was time for him to face the truth. He was head over heels in love with you, and the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

That he, Aaron Warner Anderson, was completely, foolishly and totally in love with you.

One year ago, on this very day, he had possibly squandered his chances with you. He couldn't help but wonder if he had allowed himself to kiss you that night, could it have altered the course of our lives? We might have celebrated a year together today, an entire year with you.

Warner shut his eyes tightly, just as he had done on that fateful night. He knew better than to dwell on the past, to chase shadows that had long slipped through his grasp. It was a futile endeavor.

His infatuation with you had started when he was just fifteen. He had witnessed your first kiss with one of his friends, and ever since that moment, an empty feeling had settled in the pit of his stomach.

When you had started dating Zayden Knox, Warner couldn't fathom why you had chosen him. He found Zayden shallow and irritating, far from the ideal partner for someone as exceptional as you.

Astrid Rhodes, in Warner's eyes, was entirely undeserving of your presence. He could hardly stand the thought of her sharing the same air as you.

Your on-and-off relationship with Kenji had only intensified Warner's inner longing and turmoil. You broke up countless times, only to reunite even more frequently. It was a rollercoaster of emotions that drove him to the brink of insanity.

Juliette Ferrars, kind and lovely as she was, could not escape Warner's disdain. The sole reason for his animosity was that she had been your girlfriend.

Then there was the matter of Killian, who had never truly desired you, yet had somehow managed to possess you. That had stoked the fires of Warner's resentment even further.

But most of all, Aaron Warner, despised himself. He was utterly foolish for not realizing his feelings for you sooner. He loathed himself for pretending that he wasn't in love with you for more than six agonizing years.

With each passing day, the emptiness in the pit of his stomach grew, a void that could only be filled with one thing—action. He had become his own worst enemy, too afraid to confront his feelings.

It was time for Warner to face the truth. He couldn't continue this way, allowing the hatred to consume him. It was time to break free from the shackles of his own fears and let his feelings be known.

But how? How could he convey this whirlwind of emotions to you? How could he bridge the chasm that separated them, a chasm of his own making?

Warner found himself wandering through the memories of those moments he had witnessed you with others. He remembered the first time he saw you kiss someone, the way his heart ached as he watched from the shadows.

And then there was Zayden Knox, the one he couldn't stand. Warner couldn't fathom why you had chosen him as your partner. He had always believed you deserved so much more.

Astrid Rhodes, a name that brought a sour taste to his mouth. She had never deserved to bask in your radiant presence. Warner had always felt she was unworthy of you.

Kenji, the source of endless heartache. Your on-again, off-again relationship had driven Warner to the brink of madness. The constant separation and reunion had been a torment he couldn't escape.

Juliette Ferrars, a kind soul, but Warner couldn't help but find flaws in her when it came to her being your girlfriend. He couldn't shake the irrational jealousy that reared its head whenever he thought of her.

Killian, who had never truly valued you, had held you in his grasp. It was a wound that festered, fueling his resentment.

And then, in the midst of all these emotions, Warner realized the crux of the matter. He was the one he despised the most. He had let fear control him, and in doing so, he had let you slip through his fingers.

As he contemplated his inner turmoil, Warner knew that he had to find a way to confront his feelings. He couldn't let his love for you remain a silent, unspoken truth. The time had come to break free from the grip of his own insecurities and tell you how he felt.

Warner couldn’t keep this hidden any longer. The weight of his unspoken affection had grown unbearable, and he needed to act. He had to find a way to communicate his love for you, and he couldn't let fear stand in his way any longer.

His heart aches for words he never had a chance to say. He had to find you, to speak to you, to lay his heart bare.

After what felt like eternity, he spotted you across the room. You were engaged in conversation with nazeera and juliette., your smile lighting up the room. Aaron could not tear his eyes away from you, captivated by your presence.

With determination, he wove his way through the lively gathering, his eyes never leaving you. The chatter around him faded into a distant hum as he approached.

Finally, he stood before you, and you turned to him, a warm smile curving your lips. The party continued around you, but in that instant, it was as if everything had come to a standstill.

”Y/N,” Aaron began, “Can I have a talk with you, please?” He asked you, his request hung between the both of you.

You watched him, your eyes filled with curiosity. “Of course, Aaron. Let’s find a quieter place to talk.” you suggested, your voice soft and encouraging. You knew there was something on his mind, and you wanted to hear it.

With a nod, He took your hand, and together you navigated your way through onto a terrace that overlooked the city. The noise from the party gradually faded, replaced by the soft rustling of leaves and the distant sounds of the night.

As you stepped onto the terrace, the city’s twinkling lights spread out before you, creating a breathtaking backdrop for your conversation. You found a secluded corner and settled.

He took a deep breath and locked eyes with you. “Y/N,” he began again, his voice steady, “Can I tell you a secret?” He asked, and a flashback came into your mind.

The words hung in the air, a heavy pause that seemed to stretch on. The party continued to surge around you, but at this moment, it was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

“Always,” you said, your voice filled with warmth.

He took a deep breath, his words heavy with emotion. “I’m in love with you.”

“Aaron.” you said.

“I am,” he said. He was staring at you. “I love you. I have been trying to find a word that is something deep and coherent to represent my devotion to you. I wish there was something better than I love you. I really love you. And I want to find out what that means together.” He breathed out.

"Aaron." You said again. Not knowing what else to say.

“And If home is a person, I’d gladly rush at the end of every day to you always, towards you. I carry your name everywhere I go, even when you are not around to hear it called. I recite it like a prayer. You are excruciatingly tender and it happens to be the only language I speak besides devotion,”

Warner reached up to your chin and made you look at his eyes,

"Those eyes spoke to me long enough in a way words could never translate and God knows how I was breaking apart."

You are speechless. Absolutely speechless. You don’t know what to say, you looked him straight into the eyes.

He said it. Aaron Warner finally said it. After those years, he finally told you. And God, he loves you in the same way we’ve drawn meaning from stars placed conveniently beside each other and established faiths out of constellations. Aaron Warner badly wants to carve your name out of stars.

The confession hung in the air, a profound declaration that reverberated through your soul. You reached out and gently touched his hand, a silent reassurance that you were there with him.

But before you could reply, he interrupted you. “Please,” he implored, desperation clear in his voice. “Please ask me.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you asked, “Ask you what, Aaron?”

His eyes pleaded with you, and he stepped closer. “Ask me again to kiss you,” he said, his desperation visible to his voice.

Your heart skipped a beat as the weight of his words sank in. You had long wondered about his feelings, and now he had confessed his love. But his plea for you to ask him to kiss you revealed the depth of his desire. You could see the depth of his longing, the yearning he had held back for so long. It was a silent plea.

The world seemed to hold its breath as t And then, The city's lights shimmered in the background as you leaned in, and your lips met in a passionate, heartfelt kiss. It was a moment of surrender, a union of two hearts that had been entwined in secrecy for far too long.

Aaron is still panting from the intense kiss, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps as he stares at you with a love-struck gaze.

You reach up and gently caress his cheek, feeling your own heart fluttering as you look into his eyes.

He smiles softly at you and leans in to press his forehead against yours, still feeling overcome by the passion and intensity of the moment.

“You have been driving me to madness, my love.” He says.

“Oh please, I haven’t even been around you enough to drive you mad!” You defended.

“The idea of you then.” He said, as you reach for another kiss.

“Mhm, no more evil exes..” Warner whispers.

“What?” You confusedly asked but was shut down as Warner pulled you in a kiss.

A few moments later, you share a small giggle together, feeling the tension dissipate into a calm but blissful state.

It’s over. He finally won.

(Aaron Warner) tag list 🏷 : @ravisinghs-wife @ab-baybay @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @cosmicswan

+ @reminiscentreader @mrswifeyscoleman @kaileyn-everdeen @marlygee @hazzassmirk @myloveforreading @khaleesihavilliard @etheriaaly @reapers-lover @corpsedoll777 @dahliawarner @addiessblack @i-amtitania @timhalamet @butterfly-lover @scarz-xo @rippahwrites @elijahssuit @s0urw00lf @rifran @iamsatansoul @tqrgvryen

If you wanna be added to my official A.W. Tag list plz lmk!!! 💗

[airborneice]

VERY late to the party but here’s my piece for @hilda-appreciation-week Day 2 - Favourite Episode - STONE FOREST BABEYY

hmm I was gonna talk a little about why I love this episode so much but it got kind of long so that’s going under a cut lol

ok so this would’ve been a really tough one for me to choose, if it weren’t for the fact that Stone Forest has had a very special place in my heart right from the moment I picked up the comic in 2018 and spent the next 2 yrs hoping I’d see it in the show. since that was pretty much my introduction to the comics and it was a hilda story that was yet to feature in the show it was just. so much fun. the art style of the comic is wonderful and a joy to look at and I would argue that pre-Mountain King it was the first comic to show a bit more dimension to Johanna and really have her along for the adventure, and I love it for that so much

I was so hyped to see this episode when season 2 dropped, and imo they adapted the story perfectly. I admire how the writers adjusted the story of the comic to fit into the show with all the changes they’d made, making the same conflict work with a slightly different Hilda-Johanna dynamic in the show, and how they made room in the story for the supporting characters who aren’t in the comic so much (even if that meant they got rid of my boy the stray sod to have hilda’s friends there instead 🥲 it's fine I snuck him into the bg of this drawing bc he’s still there. in my heart). Anyway I love this ep, I loved seeing how my fave comic moments made it onto the screen while also getting the completely new B plot with Frida, David, Gerda etc. I also really really love that the story being animated meant they had room to expand on some smaller moments in the comic and make them more emotional and nuanced (the part where they try to sleep behind a rock and Johanna thinks about reaching out to Hilda before giving up comes to mind…love little additions like that which take advantage of the medium!!!) also they had Johanna do cool stuff like tell a troll to get lost to its face so in conclusion this episode was made for me specifically and I just think it’s such a treat :D

[messiahzzz]

the IGN article has already been addressed by several users, but imo the points of critique raised by others were still often misinterpreted, or ignored entirely.

— so i’d like to talk about it.

beforehand, it is important to mention that it remains everyone’s respective responsibility to curate their own online experience. you shouldn’t purposefully expose yourself to topics that cause you distress or trigger you. however, general discussion should always be valid and welcomed. you have every right to voice your opinion on the matter and to be upset about this. please don’t feel guilty about venting and expressing your emotional response.

we also need to differentiate this specific interview from the fandom’s overall treatment and interpretation of gale. several of the posts i’ve seen on the subject tend to derail into the latter, without addressing the valid points many have raised or glossing over them entirely. this isn’t about the usual “haha gale eats shoes” joke or whatever new meme fandom comes up with. this is solely about the developer’s treatment of gale, the character, and about a specific, internal bias that has been prevalent throughout the entirety of the game, as well as their social media. this particular interview merely adding to the amalgamation of points mentioned.

yes, it is certainly unrealistic to expect larian to address every single companion in detail and to touch on every nuance possible, in an interview that broadly focuses on the game’s narrative and gameplay. there are, however, specific character sections. each companion received a headline that was reflective of their overall character archetype or provided quick insight into their development.

Karlach: 'The Labrador of the Party'

Lae'zel: 'She's So Young'

Halsin: 'A Creative Risk'

Shadowheart: 'The Jason Bourne'

Wyll: 'We Lost a Little Bit of Narrative Room'

Astarion: 'Much of What He Does Is Out of Fear'

Minthara: 'It's Not a Redemption Arc...But She's Got a Lot of Love'

and last but not least:

Gale: 'The Guy Who Starts Off Annoying Everyone'

what followed was a brief discussion about their respective storylines, each being addressed with a certain level of respect, empathy, and consideration. except for gale. all that was mentioned in regard to his character was the narrative impact of gale’s suicide. talking about the overall logistics of this ending, the visuals of the cutscene, and how, to them, his sacrifice felt like the right ending and how in many ways, it is.

Chrystal Ding, Lead Writer: On a very human level, you have the guy who starts off annoying everyone, he's constantly asking you to give him your most treasured possessions to eat, otherwise he's in trouble, and at the end, he gives himself for the world. Sven Vincke, Founder: And he had the choice already once before where he wasn't ready for it. So it's a very powerful ending, and it comes in different permutations.

gale is the character who is initially annoying companions and players alike. he is verbose, enthusiastic and has a tendency to break out in long-winded rants. he repeatedly asks for your assistance, to help him manage his condition. to spare himself and his surroundings from an untimely, explosive death, he must consume items that you’ve carefully collected. gale is, essentially, a liability. a ticking time bomb. he already had the option to have his life be a meaningful sacrifice, but he wasn’t ready to die yet. now, that the party has reached the end, he has another chance to give himself up for the world.

short after, gale’s section of the interview quickly diverts into a more general discussion about the difficulties of playing as a wizard and other classes.

larian claiming that there is a universal “right ending” in a game with many branching paths and choices very much contradicts the definition of a role-playing game. where it is solely in the player’s hands to decide what direction to take and what outcome they deem to be the right one. moreover, it is important to remember that the interviewees weren’t just any developers, but consisted of two lead writers and larian’s founder himself. some of them industry veterans who are, to an extent, pr-trained. we all know that fandom often sees statements from developers synonymous with word of god. as such, the implications and impact are truly unfortunate.

if larian was referring the SA survivor and stated that “the right ending” for him was to return him to enslavement or to hand him over to the gur. that for all the death and misery he (involuntarily) assisted, his sacrifice would at least grand them a slither of justice.

astarion caused death, perpetuated racism, and now that you have handed him over to the gur hunter, he is offered a chance to give himself back to the world.

it is then deemed the right choice for him because it is the most narratively satisfying/impactful/powerful outcome in the context of the overall story. the majority of us would agree that such would be a rather tactless statement, no? not specifically for mentioning it in relation to astarion as a character or his influence on the narrative — he is fictional, after all, but because of the real-life implications and the very real stigma the affected face. we can't deny that it would be hurtful to irl victims. maybe we would even fault the writing altogether for such biases. after all, why should astarion be the only character whose redemption and healing are considered to be significantly less important in the grand scheme of things?

fiction functions as an abstraction and simulation of our social experience. we are supposed to get invested, to explore the meaning, examine the parallels, or maybe just to enjoy stories for the sole purpose of indulging in the occasional escapism. perhaps a way to temporarily forget about one’s limitations and the prejudices we face. in many ways, chronic pain/impairment, suicidal ideation, and autistic traits appear to be disorders & symptoms that are perhaps less relatable to some, and that they are maybe not as sympathetic to.

it truly would’ve been nice to see larian approach this interview with more professionalism. opting for a simple, diplomatic “actually, there is no right ending. the sheer variation in choices makes such a distinction impossible” would’ve more than sufficed.

this isn’t asking for larian to touch on every nuance possible, in an interview that largely resembled the flow of a regular conversation. it’s about asking for the same level of consideration and care that was granted to the rest of the companions. it’s about addressing gale’s particular brand of trauma with the same level of basic human decency. maybe we even could’ve received some new bits and pieces of insight on gale’s development, rather than the regurgitation of every shallow reddit/tiktok take we’ve seen up to this point. alas..

[windcarvedlyre]

Rewatched part of ch1's trial and found something else that's really interesting in hindsight!

We're all familiar with Komaeda's FTE; over a decade later, there's still some room for debate wrt whether he was telling the truth about his diagnoses or not. My stance was already that he was telling the truth, instantly regretted it, and lied that he was lying, and I will die on that hill. I think the above lines reinforce my stance further.

Hear me out. I might as well make this a comprehensive 'Komaeda wasn't lying' post while I'm at it.

For reference, here's the entire final FTE.

The reasons I already had to believe him are as follows, ordered from strongest to weakest:

Komaeda almost died from despair disease; he was much more severely affected than Owari and Mioda. Lymphoma can weaken your immune system, leaving you more vulnerable to infections. While Komaeda's degree of illness could also have been due to bad luck, this could easily be an intentional hint about him.

He claims he's wanted someone's love all along. Again in chapter 3, after the trial, Tsumiki targets his lack of loved ones and seems to genuinely perturb him, indicating this is a real insecurity:

Behavioural variant frontotemporal dementia, or bvFTD, can have symptoms that align with a lot of his social and behavioural issues in the game. bvFTD symptoms can include saying socially inappropriate things/being rude and insensitive, rash/impulsive behaviour, empathy issues, and rigid thinking, among other things. Do I even need to cite examples of these? He can still hide things and manipulate people sometimes, but his ch4 investigation segment proves he's genuinely socially impaired. He sometimes fails to understand the emotional nuances of other people and the impact his words will have. For example:

(Though he still has moments of self-awareness and introspection; he acknowledges he's pessimistic in his introduction and worries he'll make Hinata hate him by saying weird things in Island Mode.)

Issues with memory, cognition in general, etc, are more of a thing in later stages of the disease, so Komaeda having significant social impairments but still being extremely sharp and lacking noticeable lapses in memory makes sense.

Physically Komaeda just doesn't seem healthy in general. He's pale, skinny, his hair is white (possibly fading into a pinkish brown that I could see being his hair colour in the past), and- at least in Japanese- he sounds really breathy and wheezy. I once laughed in a way uncannily similar to his ch1 breakdown when I had a chest infection. With asthma. Stage 3 lymphoma symptoms can include chest pain, shortness of breath, weight loss, loss of appetite and fatigue. If it's still stage 3 it's present in lymph nodes above and below the diaphragm but hasn't metastasized outside of the lymphatic system yet, but if it's advanced to stage 4 since his diagnosis then it may have spread to his lungs as well- having further potential to cause respiratory issues.

In his second-last FTE he starts to tell Hinata about something before he entered Hope's Peak but stops himself, not wanting to 'burden' Hinata. And leaves immediately to end the conversation. He'd just told Hinata how his parents died in front of him, showing zero awareness of how bad it was or how it would affect Hinata, so it must have been real bad for him to do this. And makes it less plausible he was impulsively repeating something from a book later, imo.

Iirc at least one spinoff manga runs with it being true, depicting him in a doctor's office during a nightmare. I'm too tired to hunt this down now; maybe I'll edit it in later.

On a meta level I just find it less compelling for the final reward for spending so much time with him to be 'Here's some actual vulnerability- lol psyche, remember he's manipulative? He might still want sympathy, you be the judge'. It would make the aborted confession at the end the only thing we can't infer from elsewhere in the game already. On the other hand, the diagnoses being real, and him trying to take it back and distract Hinata with an incitement to kill him (before also trying to confess his crush and aborting that too, he's a mess there), really really adds depth to his character.

Semi-tangentially, some people with bvFTD also develop neurological problems that affect movement- eg. making them slow and stiff. There's no evidence for or against Komaeda having this in canon afaik, and I've read it's more of a thing in later stages of the disease, but in the ch1 trial he talks about the threatening letter as if it's in his actual handwriting, and if so... it looks pretty stiff, doesn't it? Either it was angular on purpose or the writer has trouble with fluid hand movements. Let me know if he displays fine motor skills anywhere else, I guess.

The only real counterargument is that he's outlived the 6-12 months he was expected to, but:

The estimate is presumably from the cancer, which is treatable. FTD can take years and years, even 10+, to reach the later stages.

That's an estimate, not set in stone, and real people have survived after being told they have X months to live without supernatural luck.

In either case, it doesn't matter how dire the prognosis is if Komaeda's involved. If the chance of him surviving something isn't zero it will probably happen. When he finally managed to kill himself it wasn't even real.

Anyway, the thing I started the post with! Compare the lines below.

In both cases he's said something that could make others feel bad for him, immediately takes it back, and claims he did that on purpose.

But he wasn't actually lying in the first line, albeit hamming it up a little. He wanted someone to kill him. This happened while he was still pretending to be the killer, after Saionji asked him why he sent the letter. He dropped a hint about the truth and then deflected away from it, likely intentionally antagonising people to distract them from thinking too hard about what he just implied and make them more averse to empathising with him.

So what could that imply about the lines from his FTE?

TL;DR: He told the truth about having cancer and dementia, your honour. There's not only strong evidence for this but precedent for the sort of deflection he made afterwards.

[madarasgirl]

A Night for Hunting Ch.18 -Interlude III

CW: 18+, NSFW, Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, explicit sexual content, Dom Vladcard, ROMANCE, oral sex, bondage, blindfold, ballgag, shadows/tentacles, ‘speculum,’ breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, affectionate vampire king, comfort, history, self-indulgent fantasies, cervical penetration, shadow writing. A couple who's BIG HORNY for each other Words: 5089

Extreme sex re: tentacle porn. But this is still emotional smut in the same strain as the other Interludes. 

This chapter can be skipped and imo you shouldn't miss too much plot-wise. Something interesting that does happen will be described in later chapters. Don’t take the contents of this chapter too seriously. It wasn’t planned well in advance like most other chapters. The Reader is ovulating and so am I, that’s all. Oh daddy Vlad.

In this fic, vampires are infertile because they are dead, including their spunk, which Vlad knows. He's just indulging in a fantasy and contemplating a life which he knows would never have been possible.

I also went through this story from the beginning and made some small edits. I swapped some words here and there that I liked more and made two changes to ensure continuity and adherence to the canon:

Alucard should only be using one gun in Ch.7 since he doesn’t have the Jackal yet

In the OVAs, there was no painting hiding the entrance to Alucard’s lair

Excerpt below the cut

”Alu-!” You stopped in your tracks upon entering the great room after the check in the bedroom yielded no vampire. 

“Vlad.” 

The diffuse rays from another hall retreated shortly after illuminating the lounging figure, as if shying away from the night creature of legend. 

Alucard was always correct whenever he mused about the wonders of darkness’ cover. 

There was beauty in the unbroken shadows. The poor visibility compelled you to adjust to the nuanced differences in the most subtle shades of black. The brooding giant nearly fused into the surroundings, consuming any specs of light, his knee-length tresses flooding around him in an inky pool deeper than the background. No metal reflected the lamps outside. Vlad was unarmed, clad in a skin-tight suit covered in straps that outlined his impressive physique.

This was not who you expected to find. Twin citrine jewels flickered softly as they regarded you. You silently observed each other for a moment. Was he sad again tonight? No, clearly he could scent your need and was waiting to see what you would do.

‘The trappings of his physical form were meaningless,’ you recalled him insisting. You took wide exaggerated steps to allow your groin to air –and for your natural aromas to diffuse better. Kneeling at his feet, you wedged between the King’s knees and fumbled with the leather straps to fish out his member. The outfit was an irritating single piece garment. Fortunately, the clothing parted as you dug in and left you salivating at the creamy flesh nestled within a sea of darkness. 

Summoning up a piece of forgotten courage, you glanced up at his imposing magnificence before standing abruptly to lead him back out to the throne room. Your lover was a king tonight and respect must be imparted. 

You exhaled as you arrived and got a proper look at him. The jumpsuit accentuated the outline of those sublime proportions. His chest was thick and quads swollen with brawn; you could make out the grooves where his triceps began and where the “V” to his hips ended. The smoggy darkness cloaked him like a jealous mistress unwilling to relinquish her finest work of art.

His cock hung semi-erect from a carpet of neatly trimmed pubes.

The vampire was enjoying the attention, eyes sparkling as he watched you drink him up. The corners of his lips tilted roguishly and your gaze focused on those plump pads. Something snapped.

Your mouth crashed into Dracula’s in an open-mouthed kiss as you stood on the tips of your toes and nudged him back to encourage him to sit, to allow you to fellate the King on his throne. 

Piece by piece, you took your time shedding the components of your night clothes, until at last you let your panties drop and join the pile pooled at your feet with finality. 

His stare bore through you.

There was a low whining sound from someplace far away, yours, as you rubbed hard against his body and collapsed to the floor to settle between his legs again. A trail of fresh bruises were left in your mouth’s wake along his thighs. Audacious, but the need to satiate the flesh was stronger than any lingering intimidation inspired by this version of your lover.

The bruises disappeared before your eyes. The circles mottling the dead man's skin were never bright red. Angry maroon faded into smooth alabaster within moments as the pounding of your heart kept pace with the speed of your lover’s healing.

Your fist tightened around him. You latched tight and sank as far as you could, casting your gaze at him again proudly through hooded eyes when you barely gagged at this depth. It was the triumph of many months of training in the bedroom. Your cheeks hollowed.

Vlad was austere and gorgeous, and though he remained silent, those narrowed vermilion irises remained fixated on your actions. At least the way he gazed at you wasn't as lecherous as Alucard.

The vampire grew for you rapidly, a reassuring indication you were doing something well. The back of his fingers stroked your cheeks as you bobbed and applied more suction while you prodded his balls.

You stayed on your knees in supplication to a demon, feeling drunk in the act of perverse prayer.

You grew docile as you suckled your pacifier, marvelling at the fleshy taste of goodness when he tugged you off the ground and bent down to bestow another passionate kiss upon your hungry lips. Your tongues intertwined and shoved at each other. Your hands dug into his suit and traced the contours of his pecs, ravenously trying to get under and onto his skin. The royal vampire rumbled as you panted to catch your breath. 

“I have something to show you, my Darling. It is as we discussed,” he said.

You almost forgot your arrangements through the haze. That explained why he was dressed this provocatively.

Show me. 

The warlord’s hand enveloped yours as he led with a loose grip to the bedroom, where he stopped in the middle of the cavernous chamber. Somehow, you missed the leather sling dangling from the ceiling earlier. It oscillated ever so slightly in its emptiness. Not for much longer.

The vampire King, for all his nefarious reputation, stared down at you tenderly and smoothed the back of his hand over your face. So much power and all of it was restrained for your sake. A blindfold appeared from nowhere and he fastened it around your head reverently. 

“Do you remember what you agreed to? What you asked for?” He said as he cradled both sides of your face and coaxed you into tilting it up at him.

~To be Continued~

Ch. 19- Valentine's

[vivelareine]

I’m really sorry that people jump to conclusions about you being a royalist. You seem to be quite nice and your posts are informative.

And it’s true that clergy and aristocracy at large benefitted from the rigged system. Also apparently the economy was already screwed up before, but Frev just had this specific set of precursor circumstances that lit up the powder keg, which was going to blow up eventually.

There is definitely a discussion to be had about all the nuances here, as Frev is a complicated subject.

Thank you! People can be... something, that's for certain.

I love nuanced discussions! I think they're especially fascinating when it comes to this era.

Like I love the fact that we can discuss how Marie Antoinette was personally charitable and kind, but that her personal charity and kindness existed in this almost incomprehensible vacuum of extreme wealth vs poverty.

To use an example I talked about on Twitter, there was an assistant gardener for the hameau de la reine who became ill shortly after being hired, and Marie Antoinette ended up spending almost 2000 livres (a hefty sum--the annual salary of the head gardener was considered a respectable 1500 livres per year, with room and board) on his medical care alone. When it became clear he would not regain his health, she paid for him to return home to England, with a large sum so he could set himself up somewhere.

This assistant gardener's annual salary, had he stayed to work at Versailles? 50 livres, which did include room and board, but still, 50 livres per year.

Now to take an EXTREME example, the infamous bracelets that Marie Antoinette purchased and her mother harassed her over cost 250,000 liveres. It would take 5000 years of this assistant gardener's salary to buy a pair of bracelets that she purchased on a whim. (Now this is an EXTREME example, because everyone considered these bracelets horrendously expensive and extravagant, and it was purchased during her short yet very significant 'wilder' days.)

So it's this fascinating contrast of, her being personally kind and thinking nothing of making sure he had medical care and personally seeing to it that he's not just kicked out of France with nothing and no way to live... and realizing that this personal kindness and compassion existed within this system of massive inequality.

It reminds me of the scene in Ever After (listen I will use any excuse to bring the movie up) where Danielle-in-disguise, after the prince frees the servant from the cart taking them to be indentured servants until they die: "You gave one man back his life, but did you even glance at the others?"

And not in the sense that I think Marie Antoinette would have been like "free this one man!" and ignored everyone else, but the sense that she gave charity, compassion, cared for others, paid for the upkeep of various families and watched over their children's well-being etc etc on a personal level... but she did not comprehend the need for systematic change outside of that very limited scope.

Re; Nuance...

Nuance gets lost a lot, on both sides.

IMO, I don't think people should expect to be taken seriously when talking about history if they are either huffing and puffing about Marie Antoinette being a bitch tyrant who got what she deserved, or if they're wringing their hands and saying Louis was perfect and the revolutionaries were devil worshipers who are burning in hell for daring to revolt.

(And like, I GET... if you just glance at my blog, you might go, oh wow, this person is really Marie Antoinette themed. Must be one of those people who thinks her life was the Sofia Coppola movie. But if you think that and you haven't bothered to read my blog or any of my social media, don't come up at me with some random BS like that and expect to be taken seriously. It's basic common sense and respect.)

[detectiveneve]

Please,,,, please more rambles about astarion and him healing and his slowly changing relationship with (-tav-) Sex and intimacy and choice and-

LISTEN BUDDY...

Okay gonna talk about the Grave Scene. this scene truly lives in my head rent free. I've been rewatching it a few times and every way it plays out is so touching. Especially the way he.. hmm... expresses himself here? There's such earnestness to him that frankly is unimaginable to the person we met in act 1. He really went from being both so sly & yet obviously lying ("[you trusted me...] an objectively stupid thing to do.") to someone who admits and lists the way Tav makes him... feel.... SAFE? and held? and I understand why it's not something a lot of people focus on but I actually am so heart-touched by how complex and intricate his journey to reclaiming sex and desire is at the end of this conversation. None of it is gratuitous. None of it is for show. The blending of the nonsexual intimacy, and openness (the grabbing of the hands, the showing of the grave, the raw admittance of so much vulnerable material he gives to Tav; all things he would never have even CONCEIVED of offering up in even act 2.)

("I've been dead in the ground for long enough. It's time to try living again." ... "With everything that life has to offer.")

It's an extremely nuanced and thoughtful approach to an SA survivor rediscovering & reclaiming what they want to make of their desires, their sexuality, in the aftermath of what was done to their bodies without their consent. It's so thoughtful & beautiful imo. Finally here at his grave, he tells Tav that they're someone he feels safe & accepted with, & he can experience intimacy on both sides with someone who has put forth the effort, the time, the willingness to learn and wait and watch and care for his own desires in a manner no one else EVER has.

("I feel safe with you. Seen. And whatever the future holds for me, I don't want to lose that.")

It REALLY... gets me in the heart here. It doesn't avoid the difficulties of sexuality in the aftermath of abuse, and it ultimately shows one individual's journey toward reclamation and reconciliation with autonomy on their own terms. That's so vital here, that he reaches out, chooses to make the step forward, HIS choice. There's no lingering gratuitously on the trauma, if that makes sense? the descriptions and vulnerability are raw; Tav is grounding person here, Tav gives him room to speak. The true balance of intimacy in verbalizing his feelings, intimacy in being close physically with Tav, intimacy in discerning for himself what he desires, intimacy in accepting touch, contact, affection, togetherness. It's all so... [BITES INTO FIST SCREAMING]. And the ending. Where he and Tav get to set off on another adventure. Get to explore who they are truly now, with each other, without any higher powers looming over and putting a yoke around their necks. I'm personally partial to the "finding a way for you to be in the sun," ending myself but all of them are just ... so delightful. He really SHINES in a way that exceeded my expectations so completely in act 3. he went from totally closed off and locked away and unaware of how to navigate his own personal relationships, no idea what a "relationship," even was, no idea how to express boundary or unravel his complicated ideas and feelings around his body, what it was forced to do for Cazador, to:

("For nearly two centuries I stalked the streets like a ghost while the person I was lay here, dead and buried. Now I need to figure out who I am. What I want.")

also laying a flower on his grave and all he says is "cute." but there's such a minor moment of tenderness there. I weep I wept I will weep.

[ninallthatjazz]

I am rewatching Shadow and Bone and I have so many thoughts about the Kanej wound dressing scene in S2E3 dkwbjdorbr it's one of the best scenes in the show imo.

The hesitant way Kaz enters the room, like he knows exactly that it will be hard for him to see Inej hurt and, more importantly, angry at him. He looks at the floor for a second to gather his courage before he speaks.

Mirroring Kaz in the first episode, Inej senses his presence before he makes himself known. She goes still for a second, staring straight ahead, before resuming what she is doing.

The trembling in Inej's voice on the line "you are gambling with our lives" because she is so furious and hurt and can just not understand why Kaz is not his usual level-headed, cold-hearted, calculated self. Kaz can be cruel and detached, but she knows how to work with that, she knows him. This is uncharted territory, and it terrifies her, especially because she will be right back where she started if this goes wrong.

Kaz immediately turning away when Inej starts to take off her blouse (despite the layers she wears underneath). I am wondering if it's more for her sake or if he doesn't trust himself to keep his desire for her locked away in the dark corner of his heart where he usually keeps it buried.

Kaz fighting to get out the words "Pekka Rollins killed my brother", breathing heavily like speaking those words are enough to make him drown.

Inej looking at him with fire in her eyes and saying in the most eerily calm voice "then we destroy him". He gave her a reason, and this is all she needed to trust in him and fight by his side.

Kaz looking up at those words like he can't believe that he heard correctly, like he has to make sure the hope growing in him is grounded in reality.

The resolve in his eyes when he starts walking towards her, hand shaking when he silently asks her to give him the cloth so he can clean her wound.

Inej's stunned look at his face, trying to read the situation. Is Kaz Brekker trying to take care of me? In a situation that requires touch?

Her little gasp when the cloth makes contact with her skin. I don't think pain is the cause.

Kaz trying so hard, but still clenching his jaw like he is biting steel, breathing fast, feeling the water rise.

The look they share after "was there no one to protect you?" saying that no, they were both alone then. But they are not alone any longer.

Inej's little arched brow and casual tone when she asks "do I have one?" (a tell). She wants to know if he sees her, her, who tried to be invisible most of the time. Him immediately giving an answer.

Her asking him to be vulnerable with her in return. "what's yours?" whispered in the intimite air between them.

Kaz trying desperately to keep his armor on by deflecting with the limp. Immediately losing it when she keeps looking at him (looking at his mouth) telling her what she wants to know, he would tell her everything, if she just keeps looking at him like that..

Inej understanding even without him saying it (I want you), leaning into him.

I could rewatch this another 100 times and I would still find new things. Freddy and Amita deserve all the awards for this incredibly nuanced performance.

[miquella-everywhere]

Ugh completely agree with you! Forget Miquella the intelligent brilliant inventor of spells, chemo therapy for soul rot, a set of sick prosthesis including replacement skin (possibly created using his own blood), creator of a God Tree Paradise watered by his own blood, creator of a kickass sword, guy connected with Eclipse rituals, the guy who made the freaking Walking Mausoleums, who abandoned the religion he was raised in and the ideology the world revolved around, the fact his other main goal is throwing out the influence of Outer Gods… nope! See the most important part of his character is having level 100 charisma and actually saying please and thank you thus controlling hundreds.

Imo one of the worst things about the DLC is just how narratively boring and uninteresting it is. In a world that ranges from evil to dark shades of morally grey, the most interesting character is the one that actually cares and has a plan to help the downtrodden. Obviously nuance and grey elements (Miquella struggling with his curse and his natural allure, the use of actual charm etc.) are good, but the way they were utilised they sort of make Miquella the same as everyone else. Even outright corrupted Miquella would’ve been more interesting. Same with Leda, a subversion of the “honourable knight in shining armour” isn’t that striking if all the other knights are less than interesting. Which makes me think this wasn’t GRRM’s intention, despite the infamy George understands you need to have good and bad as well (in a kingdom full of less than stellar knights, one of the most interesting knights is one that’s actually the knightly ideal, and she isn’t even a true knight). I really think the most interesting and striking twist Fromsoft could’ve given us was an ending and character that was just mostly good.

I’ve enjoyed looking at your takes, as well as old theories and predictions (masochism) haha, hope we can all spiritually recover from this soon enough.

Listen I'm not against morally grey Miquella. One of my favorite theories before the DLC came out was that Miquella had sacrificed sorcerers to make Graven Masses in order to study the Primeval Current. I am not against him doing dubious shit, in fact it makes his character more interesting lol

The biggest most nauseating problem of the DLC for me is the fact that it completely disregards and ignores everything else that Miquella has done in favor of going full tilt into his charm powers. And even then I am not against his bewitching powers! I like how they are being portrayed in the DLC and it's interesting how they are more calming in nature rather than straight brainwashing.

But still.

It legitimately feels like Fromsoft forgot nearly everything about Miquellas lore when concocting Miquella the Kind. Miquella the Unalloyed no longer exists and that's what really irritates me.

And again, the biggest elephant in the room when it comes to the assassination of Miquella the Unalloyed's character is the shoehorning of Radahn into Miquella's narrative. I could write an entire fucking essay about how there is absolutely no basegame evidence regarding Miquellas "crush🤮" on Radahn, how it is a blatant and lazy retcon, and how Radahns inclusion in the DLC made things just fucking awful for everyones lore, and hell I probably will later, but for now:

Y'know how there are certain female characters who's entire story and character revolves around a man and it reduces them to a side character?

yeah...

yeah.......

[psychic-refugee]

Not only do I think the novel ISN’T canon Wenclair, I don’t think it’s canon Wednesday, to be honest.

It’s not enough that the book was approved and published. It should actually be accurate to the source material, the TV show.

If the Powers that Be approved the novel, then they approved errors and emphatically different narrative concepts that are in direct conflict with the TV show.

What exactly does that say about how much they cared about the content of the novel?

Overall, the TV show and the writers, Gough & Millar, are the controlling narrative. IMO. If the book is in conflict with the TV show and what the writers themselves have stated, then I can dismiss the novel.

Tehlor Kay Meija was hired to write the book, and it was approved for publishing. I cannot infer more than that on anyone’s motivations. Certainly not if they approve of ship.

I disagree with Meija’s interpretation of certain scenes, and I can point to obvious and glaring mistakes.

“In the baby-blue-wallpapered room, I open my bag.” p. 32

Here, we clearly see that not only is the bathroom not blue, she does not open her bag. Full scene:

It stays on her back. She taps the bag and orders Thing to give her a nail file. The bag flips open on its own and he gives her the file.

The book has a lot of these unnecessary and should have been easy to fix mistakes. I’ve seen some rude replies where they ask “Did you watch the show?” Interpreting certain thoughts and actions as sapphic or not is a matter of opinion. This is just flat out wrong.  

There are provable errors not only in description but dialogue.

The tone and characterization of Enid and Wednesday’s interaction is different with the incorrect dialogue and descriptions.

The entire book is like this. It has wrong or dropped dialogue and deviates from the original narrative concepts of the TV show.

Every character has been done a disservice by this book.

It seems the people you should ask if they watched the show are Meija and whomever approved publishing the book, errors and all.  

The book with its lack of details I think misses a lot of nuances that we see from facial expressions and body language on the show. Details on the possibility of what others are thinking via facial expressions and body language are inconsistent throughout the book.

There is an annoying plethora of exclamation marks that makes it seem people are yelling or excited when I think they’re actually trying to portray emphasis. That’s just a pet peeve of mine and I fully admit it’s petty, but it does make some, like Kinbott, seem more manic than the show intended.

“Well Wednesday, I hope you don’t think of me as your adversary,” [Kinbott] says. “I hope we can forge a relationship built on trust! And mutual respect!” p 30

Kinbott does not have this kind of excited inflection when speaking to Wednesday, ever. She always remains calm and uses a soothing voice, like she’s trying to talk to an unwilling cat. lol

I think it was a mistake to hire Meija, who specializes in children’s books. The TV show is aimed at teens, but also has a strong nostalgia factor for those who grew up in the 90’s and the movies. I think Netflix is aiming for a wide audience of older teens and adults. With the violence and “edgy” aesthetic and leanings, I think a writer for an older audience would have been more appropriate.

This book was clearly made JUST for children. The bigger print, low word count, and very simplistic narration make it for an elementary grade reading level. It feels very dumbed down.

Wednesday the TV show is not meant to be for that young of an audience.

I think if Gough and Millar had written the novelization, it would be much different not only in style but accuracy.

At bottom, Meija is an outsider to this fandom and did not do a good job.

[belle-keys]

My Hogwarts House book recs

Okay, ever since some of my favorite booktubers made posts like these many a year ago, I always wanted to make a book rec list like this because I still genuinely do like the Hogwarts Houses. Enjoy!

Gryffindor

Graceling by Kristen Cashore - she walked so these new fantasy girlies could run, fantasy kingdom with assassin main character, the original ya high fantasy killer girlboss imo

A Game of Thrones by George RR Martin - all of the sympathetic leads are classic heroes (dany, jon, arya), adventure and politics and battle and dragons, nuanced outlooks on honor

The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah - ww2 novel, deals with the french resistance during the occupation, hit every spot in my cold black heart, emphasis on sisterhood and endurance

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen - what is bravery if not a broke woman telling a rich man to get a grip, og strong female lead overcoming many challenges, criticisms of polite society

Hufflepuff

Crave by Tracy Wolff - big on found family, paranormal romance shenanigans in a boarding school, somewhat satire, unserious and just very wholesome, steeped in nostalgia uwu

All My Rage by Sabaa Tahir - unapologetically written to heal and explore trauma, cathartic, wholesome and pure relationships, emphasis on self-growth and overcoming abuse and pain

The Stationery Shop by Marjan Kamali - historical, about the value of relationships in war and hardship, themes of growth and acceptance and promises, beautiful story

The Foxhole Court by Nora Sakavic - what happens when you let a bunch of mentally ill kids play a made up sport, angsty but feels like a big hug, contemporary fiction, just genius ok

Ravenclaw

The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake - very slytherclaw, philosophy and physics as the basis, dark academia urban fantasy, character-driven, multiple POVs, morally grey academics

Babel by RF Kuang - this book has been likened to a history textbook, by a nerd girlie for the nerd girlies, linguistics and languages, super well-researched, condemns colonization

Disorientation by Elain Hsieh Chou - witty and sharp narration and dialogue, set in academia and deals with east asian literature, satire and black comedy, explores racial fetishization

Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov - only a ravenclaw could appreciation its complexity, so many literary references, stylistically immaculate, lots of room to debate its message and themes

Slytherin

Vicious by VE Schwab - perfect moral quandaries demonstrated here, everyone is morally dark grey, supervillains, very angsty and also profound at times, dark academia

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde - my man makes a deal with the devil for eternal youth and beauty, everyone here is morally dubious, murder and orgies and philosophy

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn - exhausted woman does what she needs to do, female rage book, does some interesting things with pov, justified evil, amy dunne is insane and it's great

Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao - tired chinese woman does what she needs to do and kills men, very unhinged queen behavior, ambition and god complexes, pacific rim but in china

[lurkingteapot]

to have, to live, to be with(out)

or an amateur's attempt at looking at Pat's "It's me who can't live without you" in Our Skyy 2 ep 15 4/4. Not fluent, just a nerd, standard disclaimers apply, fluent speakers please take me to school, etc. Transcription is into IPA.

ANYWAY. All this came up because @dimplesandfierceeyes asked about the literal translation of Pat's "I can't live without you" (I'd wailed about the way the Thai hit worse for me in a shared groupchat).

I was thinking about looking at the whole sequence because it adds a lot imo, but I'm not sure about two bits (Nanon, you're a great actor, but your diction as Pran is not beginner or intermediate friendly), so I'll just stick with that one phrase and the one that kicks the exchange off.

Pat starts off teasing Pran

ภัทร์: บอกมึงไง ไม่มีกูมึงอยู่ไม่ได้เลย Pat: "told you, didn't I -- you can't live without me" (second clause is breaks down to "((not have) me) (you (exist (not possible) (+ emphasis particle)")

Then there's the whole back and forth, and in the end, he concedes

ภัทร์: มึงก็รู้แล้วไง Pat: you already know this, too (+ fondly exasperated emphasis particle) ปราณ: ว่าไงครับ Pran: hm? so what is it? (Adding ครับ /krap/ for polite emphasis, sorta … lovingly teasing) ภัทร์: กูเองอะ อยู่ไม่ได้หรอก ถ้าไม่มีมึง Pat: It's me. [I] can't be. If [I] don't have you. (I myself -- exist not possible [emphasis particle] -- if not have you)

And the issue here, in translation, is with both the อยู่ไม่ได้หรอก /jù: mâj dâj rɔ̀ːk/ and the ถ้าไม่มีมึง /tʰâː mâj mi: mɯŋ/ because. They do mean exactly what the subs say! But translation, as always, also deals in nuance, in tone, overlap and gaps. And here, we're dealing with two pretty basic words that function juuuust differently enough from English in most cases that there's … wiggle room, I guess? for things to feel a little differently.

a) อยู่ /jù:/ means "to exist, to live (somewhere), to be (present)", so อยู่ไม่ได้ /jù: mâj dâj/ can be both "[someone/something] can't be" and "[someone/something] can't live" (which we could argue are similarly overlapping in English, but in Thai, it's one word for both -- there are separate, higher-register words for "to exist" and "to be alive" and "to dwell at place", but that's not what we're dealing with here). I suppose even the more dramatic translation of "I can't survive" would be an option for that particular clause, depending on context.

b) Thai uses มี /mi:/ as both "to have" and "to exist", sort of similar to how 有 you3 works in Mandarin or how ある and いる work in Japanese. Or even (sort of, if you squint) in English, if you think about "I have a friend" -- a person exists who is your friend, a friend is available to you (generally speaking, even if maybe not right now. They're your friend whether they're here with you this very moment or not).

But that means ถ้าไม่มีมึง is simultaneously both "if you don't exist" and "if I don't have you". Maybe there's less of a gap here in English than my brain is painting for me right now, too? It's not ambiguous in Thai, I don't think, but in English, in translation, obviously the subtitling team had to make a choice (and they made the most devastating choice possible because they know their audience, good job, translation team).

I'm pretty sure it's also – maybe notably, maybe obviously – NOT "I can't live when you're not there/not here" (as in, "not in the same place as I am"). I'd expect a ถ้ามึงไม่อยู่ if they wanted to express that, explicitly.