#ill be a person in the world because i already know how to and im learning everyday. and so it everyone else for the first time

[warmthpdf]

starting my new job tomorrow aah so excited and nervy! but im trying to internalise that things are only scary because theyre new, not because im incapable of doing them! i dont have to know what comes next in order to be okay, i know myself and know i can keep being a person who belongs in the world, even when i dont have a script to follow or a guideline telling me how to get to where i want. life will happen anyway, and the novelty of newness will erode and become normality, the fear will pass and i'll be left with a life i can say i made an effort for

[cerbreus]

Literally nothing makes me more irritated than some guy I hardly know being fucking passive aggressive with me over trivial stuff. What the hell is up with these Minnesotans being knee jerk passive aggressive the second you aren't the most enthusiastic excited person alive..... 🙄🙄😮‍💨

[mononijikayu]

wildflower— nanami kento.

Your breath caught in your throat. “I—” “Do you have any idea how brilliant you are?” His voice was trembling now, thick with emotion. “You were always the smartest person in the room. You deserved to get out of here….to have everything you ever dreamed of. And instead… you stayed. You gave it all up. Why?” Tears burned the back of your eyes. “Because I didn’t have a choice, Kento.” “Yes, you did.” His voice cracked. “You could have told me. You could have called me. I would’ve—” “You would’ve what, Kento?” you choked. “Fixed my life for me? Paid my bills? Dragged me to Tokyo and pretended like I belonged in your world?” His jaw clenched. “You do belong in my world.”

GENRE: alternate universe - actor/s au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, use of she/her pronouns, romance, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, hurt, love, fluff, humor, light-hearted, long-term relationship, marriage, loss, emotional distress, hatred, resentment, domestic, confessions, getting together, friends, slice of life, childhood friends, distress, cheating, falling out of love, toxic relationship, drama, depression, bitterness, grief, trauma, pregnancy, explicit birthing scene, illness, post-partum depression, bodily fluids, children, therapy, explicit depiction of birthing, depiction of bodily fluids, depiction of post-partum depression, mention of blood, mention of birthing, mention of bodily fluids, mention of depression, actor! nanami, housewife! reader;

WORD COUNT: 18k words

NOTE: this took a while and im a bit sick all the sudden but i realized i have to put this out so i just decided to go on and post this. anyway, i hope you enjoy this. ready the tissue for this, its a crier. i love you all so much <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

the good life ― masterlist.

IT WAS HARD NOT TO KNOW WHAT EVERYTHING MEANS AFTER TWENTY YEARS OF MARRIAGE. After all that time, wouldn’t you know much about the person you were married to? This moment was not an exemption, of course. You were his wife, you knew everything about him. You just had to know.

So, as you stood there, looking at him, you knew that look. That look in Kento's caramel eyes as he’s putting on his suit. The quiet resignation. The practiced ease of sliding the tie around his neck, smoothing down his shirt, adjusting the cufflinks. Like a man preparing to go to war — except it isn’t war. It’s something worse. You knew that much.

You hum softly, curled up on the couch, and watch him from across the room. He doesn’t notice you at first, too focused on making himself presentable. Like it matters. Like any of it matters. You know where he’s going. You’ve always known.

It’s something you never said out loud, not in the past twenty years, not when the nights stretched long and lonely, not when his touch began to feel like an apology instead of love. You haven’t said a word, and he hasn’t either.

But you know all about it already.

There was no need for such words.

There was no need for anything else.

You know because when he turns around, there’s that smile all over again. That smile you fell in love with all those years ago. It was that loving, gentle smile. Strained by the weariness, the tired, and the painfully distant bitterness that dwelled over time on his face. 

And then besides that, he lies. 

He always has to know how to lie.

He was an actor by trade, after all.

"I’ll be home late, baby." he says like it means nothing, like it’s any other day. His voice doesn’t crack. His eyes don’t betray him. But you see it. You always do. And it kills you a little more each time. 

You know he loves you. It’s never been a question of love. It’s always been a question of truth. And the truth is, love doesn’t stop him from leaving. The truth is, love doesn’t make him stay. The truth is, he’s already gone before he’s out the door.

And sometimes you want to kill him for it. Even if you don’t want to, you think about it often. You think about wanting to just be angry and let yourself loose into the madness of it all. You wanted to go and have something for yourself. Even if that was a life, even if it was his life. After all that you had suffered and endured, don’t you deserve it? Don’t you deserve to take his life?

For the silence. For the way he pretends. For the way you let him. For the way you can’t bring yourself to break it all apart because maybe —just maybe— if you keep pretending, too, it’ll hurt less.

You don’t say a word when he leans down to kiss your temple as gently as he could, as lovingly as he could. You don’t flinch, you don’t cling. You don’t beg him to stay. You just hum again, quieter this time, and watch him leave like you have a hundred times before. 

And when the door closes behind him, the sound is deafening.

You stare at the door long after he's gone. Like if you watch long enough, he'll come back. Like if you sit still enough, you'll hear his footsteps retreating down the hallway. But silence is all that answers you. Silence, and the faint hum of the clock that ticks louder with every passing second.

Your hands twitch against your lap, curling into fists before releasing again. You wonder if tonight it'll be different, if he'll come home and tell you the truth. If he'll break, just once, and tell you what you already know. That there’s someone else. That his heart no longer belongs here, with you.

But it never happens. It’s never happened.

You get up after a while, wandering through the house like a ghost. You pass by the photos on the walls. The framed moments of happiness frozen in time. His smile in those pictures looks real. Like he didn’t know back then what would become of you both. You touch one of the frames, trailing your finger down his face. It feels cruel now, looking at those captured memories.

The bed feels colder when you climb in alone. You face his side, the sheets still perfectly made, undisturbed by the weight of his body. You press your face into his pillow, breathing him in. You think, for a fleeting second, that if you cry hard enough, he might feel it from wherever he is and come home.

But you don’t cry. You’ve already wasted too many nights crying. Instead, you just wait. 

Because that's all you know how to do now. Wait. And love him. And hate him a little, too.

THE STORY STARTS EVEN BEFORE THAT. You and Nanami Kento grew up together. Two kids from two very different worlds — he is filled with wealth and privilege, you were with struggle and scarcity. His parents lived in a grand, pristine house, while you lived in a cramped apartment that barely stayed warm in the winter.

His clothes were always crisp and clean, and yours were worn out and patched up. From the moment you realized just how different your lives were, you knew people like you didn’t belong in his world.

And the world didn’t hesitate to remind you of that. The neighborhood kids who ran in the same circles as Nanami never let you forget it. They whispered when you came around, made faces when you approached, and laughed when you walked away. 

“Why do you let her hang around you?” they’d ask him. “She doesn't fit in with us.” 

But Nanami Kento never wavered. Not once. Not ever.

“She’s my friend.” he’d say, firm and unwavering.

And that was all it took.

It didn’t matter if your shoes had holes or if your hands were rough from helping your family with chores. It didn’t matter that you didn’t have expensive toys or that you couldn’t bring lunch to school some days. 

Kento always shared this with you. He always liked making sure you were as full as him. So he would go and split his neatly packed bento in half and hand you the bigger portion without a second thought. 

You’d protest, of course, but he’d only shrug and say, “I wasn’t that hungry anyway.” 

You knew it was a lie.

Even back then, he always lied.

And he smiles all the same.

He always did that, giving without asking for anything in return, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And you valued him more than anything because of it. But what you didn’t realize was how deeply it had settled in your bones. The way you looked at him, the way you cherished him, the way you loved him.

It wasn’t like one day you just woke up and decided to love Nanami Kento. No, it was a gradual thing. Like the warmth of the sun slowly rising over the horizon. It happened on the days he’d sneak away from his house to find you playing in the dirt, unbothered by the stares of his so-called friends. 

It happened when he’d walk you home after school, insisting it was just on the way when it wasn’t. It happened when you were crying after your father came home drunk again, and Nanami held your hand quietly, letting you cry into his shoulder without a word.

It happened every time he chose you.

And because of that, because he never treated you like you were less than him, because he never made you feel like you didn’t belong — you fell in love with him. Quietly. Deeply. Hopelessly. Truthfully. 

But you never said a word about it. How could you?

You were still just you. You were unimportant, rough around the edges, struggling to keep your life from falling apart. And he was Nanami Kento, brighter than the sun itself. He was polished, brilliant, and destined for a life far better than the one you could ever give him. 

Loving him felt like holding sunlight in your hands. 

It was beautiful, but impossible to keep.

And so you stifled it, you swallowed it down. 

You smiled when he spoke of his future. Of traveling abroad, of making something of himself — and you ignored the ache in your chest. You told yourself it was enough to simply have him in your life, even if you could never have his heart. But deep down, you knew.

One day, he’d leave. 

He’d outgrow this town. 

He’d outgrow you. 

You’d be left where you always were. You would be standing in the shadow of his light, loving him from a distance. You knew that even if he leaves, even if he doesn’t stay. You would love him all the same.

WHEN THAT DAY CAME, YOU HADN’T EXPECTED IT. You were sixteen when Nanami Kento told you he was leaving. He had gotten accepted into a prestigious school overseas. One that would guarantee him a promising future. His parents were thrilled. His friends envied him. 

Everyone around him kept saying to him — You’ll do great things, Nanami. You’re destined for success.

But all you could hear was the sound of your own heart breaking. Yet you didn’t want it to be broken down out loud.  So, you decided to go and smile all about it. It was better this way, you think to yourself. He, after all, deserved better than you.

He found you later that evening, sitting on the rusted swing set in the small park where you two always met. You already knew what he was going to say. You could see it in his eyes — a mixture of excitement and guilt.

“I’m leaving.” he finally said, voice quiet. “I got accepted into a school in Denmark.”

You forced a smile, ignoring the lump in your throat. “That’s… that’s amazing, Kento. Really. I’m happy for you.”

But you weren’t. 

God, you weren’t.

“I’ll only be gone for a couple of years, you know.” he tried to reassure you. “I’ll visit during the holidays. And we can write letters—”

“Yeah, I know.” you cut him off, still smiling. “We’ll stay in touch. Like we used to.”

But deep down, you knew better. People like you didn’t get to stay in the lives of people like him. Nanami Kento was destined for bigger and better things, all these things that didn’t include you. And you hated yourself for thinking that way.

So instead of breaking down, instead of begging him to stay, you spent your remaining days together trying to memorize everything about him. The way his blond hair would fall over his forehead when he was deep in thought. 

The sound of his laugh when you said something ridiculous. The warmth of his hand whenever it brushed against yours. You burned it all into your memory, knowing it was the closest you’d ever get to having him. 

And then like the wind, that day came in a sudden push.

You didn’t cry when you said goodbye to him at the train station. 

You didn’t flinch when he pulled you into a tight hug and whispered, “I’ll see you soon.” 

You didn’t break down when you watched the train pull away, carrying him farther and farther from you. But that night, when you were alone in your bed, staring up at the cracked ceiling — you sobbed until your throat was raw. Because you knew.

You knew that he’s not coming back.

Maybe not intentionally, maybe he would write you a few letters, maybe he would visit during the holidays but eventually, the distance would settle in. He’d meet new people, make new friends, build a new life. 

And you? You’d still be here, stuck in the same town, living the same hard life you always had. You didn’t blame him. How could you? He deserved better. Yet you told yourself that you’d get over him. That the ache in your chest would eventually fade. That you’d move on.

But you never did.

The letters came at first. Handwritten, neat, and always signed, Kento. 

He’d tell you about the classes he was taking, the places he was visiting, the new friends he was making. And you’d read every word, trying to picture him in that new world of his — a world you didn’t belong to. You always write back, of course. But your letters were never as exciting. What were you supposed to say? 

Hey, I’m still working two part-time jobs to help my mom make rent. Our fridge broke again last week, but it’s fine. I’ve gotten used to eating once a day. 

No. Instead, you lied. You told him you were doing fine, that life was okay, that you were just happy to hear from him. But as the months went on, the letters became less frequent. And then, eventually, they stopped altogether. And that was it.

Nanami Kento became a part of your past.

He was just another thing you had to let go of.

Yet you think about it now, you should have let go.

You should have let it all be.

IT WAS QUITE A SURPRISE, NOT ONE WHICH YOU HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT. You didn’t know he became an actor. The Nanami Kento standing in front of you now. He was still quite as polished, poised, and impossibly handsome as he was.

And yet, he was a far cry from the boy you used to know. But it was still him, he was all the same. Same deep voice. Same gentle gaze. Same presence that made the world feel a little less heavy.

And yet, there was something else too. A distance. 

Like he didn’t quite belong here anymore.

It was like he had outgrown this town, just as you always knew he would.

“Kento, oh wow….” you managed, trying not to let your voice shake. “I… I didn’t know you were back.”

His smile faltered slightly, like he was trying to keep his composure. “Just for a few days. I had some… time off.”

You didn’t miss the way his caramel eyes swept over you. From your wrinkled convenience store uniform to the worn-out shoes on your feet. It was subtle, but you saw it. And it made your stomach twist in shame.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, carefully. Like he was afraid of the answer.

You forced a small laugh, waving a hand. “You know… same old, same old. Nothing much has changed.”

Lie. Everything had changed. You were still here, yes. You were still in the same town, still in the same life — but it felt different now. Colder. Like the weight of the world had settled heavier on your shoulders after he left. And it didn’t escape Kento’s notice.

You were supposed to be somewhere else. He knew that. Out of everyone he’d ever known, you were the smartest. You were the sharpest, the most capable, the one who always dreamed bigger than the town could ever hold. 

You used to talk about it all the time — the places you wanted to go, the life you wanted to build. You were supposed to go to college. You were supposed to do great things. And yet here you were. Stuck. In this town. Wearing a faded uniform and a name tag, working a dead-end job.

Why? Why are you still here, suffering like this?

“So, uh….” you cleared your throat, forcing a smile. “How’s Denmark? Or… wait. Are you still there?”

“No, no. I don’t live there.” he answered, his voice quieter now. “I, uh… I moved to Tokyo. For work.”

“Work?” you tilted your head.

And that’s when you saw it. The subtle shift in his stance. 

Like he was bracing himself for something.

“...I’m an actor now,” he admitted, almost sheepishly.

You blinked. “Wait — like… on TV?”

“Yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking a little uncomfortable. “Film, mostly. I’ve done a few series too.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “You’re kidding.”

He chuckled, though there was no real humor in it. “I’m not. It just… happened, I guess.”

Of course it did, you thought bitterly. Because that’s what people like him did. They left, they made something of themselves, and they became untouchable. Meanwhile, people like you stayed exactly where they were rooted in place, forgotten, ordinary.

“That’s… amazing, Kento. Really.” You smiled, even though it burned your throat. “I’m happy for you.”

But Nanami Kento couldn’t find it in himself to smile back. 

Because all he could think about was how wrong this felt.

You’re supposed to be the one out there, he thought. You were always the brilliant one. You were supposed to leave this town — not me. You were supposed to make something of yourself.

Instead, you were still here in this wretched place. In a store that smelled faintly of stale bread and cleaning supplies. Ringing up snacks for high schoolers who would eventually leave you behind just like everyone else did.

“You’re still working here?” he asked softly, his voice careful.

“Yeah. Been here for a couple of years now.” You shrugged like it was nothing. “Pays the bills.”

His stomach twisted at your words all the sudden. “What about school?” he asked. “You… you were supposed to go to college, right? Didn’t you get accepted somewhere?”

You froze. For a brief moment, the smile cracked on your face. But you stitched it back together quickly. “Ah, yeah… I did. But, you know. Life happens.”

Lie, again, huh?

The truth was that you did get accepted. To a top university in Tokyo, actually. But your mom lost her job the same week you got the acceptance letter. Rent fell behind. Bills piled up. And you did what you always did — you stayed. 

You got a job, dropped out before you even started, and spent the next few years trying to keep your family afloat. You did everything you could to help your family to survive. You abandoned everything to survive. But you didn’t tell Kento that. You couldn’t.

“Anyway, uh….” you deflected, forcing some cheer into your voice, “I’m sure you’ve got somewhere to be. Don’t let me keep you.”

But Nanami Kento didn’t move.

He couldn’t.

Because he couldn’t stop staring at you. He couldn’t stop thinking about how wrong this was. The person he loved most in this world, the one who deserved everything was still here, stuck, while he was out there living a dream he never even wanted in the first place.

And he hated it. 

God, he hated it.

“…Have dinner with me, at least.” he blurted out suddenly.

Your head snapped up. “What?”

“Dinner. Tonight.” His voice was steadier now. “I want to catch up.”

You hesitated. “Kento, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.” His gaze softened. “Please.”

And maybe it was because you were too tired to argue. Or maybe it was because, despite everything, you still loved him. So you gave in. “…Okay. Yeah. Dinner sounds nice.”

And for the first time since he left, Kento felt like he could breathe again.

That night, he picked you up from your small apartment. You tried to dress nicer, but you didn’t have much to work with. It was just a worn-out dress you hadn’t touched in years. When you opened the door and saw him standing there in a tailored coat and polished shoes, you almost told him to forget it.

But Kento only smiled and said, “You look beautiful.”

And God, you hated how much you still loved him.

Dinner was… nostalgic. You talked about old memories, laughed about stupid things you did as kids. But Kento couldn’t stop noticing how guarded you were. How carefully you danced around your life now.

Never mentioning anything too personal, never hinting at how hard things really were. And when the night was over, when he walked you back to your door, he couldn’t help himself.

“…Why did you stay?” he finally asked.

You froze, your hand on the doorknob. “…What?”

“You were supposed to leave this town, you know.” he said, voice cracking slightly. “You were supposed to go to college. Travel. Do everything you always talked about. So… why didn’t you?”

You hesitated. But then you smiled soft and hollow. “Someone had to stay and take care of things.”

And before he could ask what you meant, you gave him one last smile and said. “Goodnight, Kento.”

Then you closed the door. And Kento stood there, staring at the chipped paint on your doorframe, his heart breaking all over again. Because the person he loved most in this world was still stuck in a place she was never meant to stay.

And he didn’t know how to fix it.

NOT A WINK OF SLEEP THAT NIGHT ONCE AGAIN. After you closed the door on Kento, you leaned against it, heart pounding so hard you thought it might burst out of your chest.

You could still feel the warmth of his gaze, still hear the tenderness in his voice when he said you looked beautiful. It was like he still saw you the way he did when you were kids. Like time and distance hadn’t changed a thing.

But it had.  You weren’t the same girl you used to be. And he wasn’t the same boy who once shared his lunch with you. He was Nanami Kento now, an actor, a star, someone the world adored. And you? You were still here. Working a dead-end job, carrying the weight of your family’s survival on your back, and holding onto the ghost of a love you never confessed.

So why did it feel like he was still yours?

Why did it still hurt like hell to let him go?

On the other side of that door, Kento didn’t move for a long time. He just stood there, still staring at the door you closed between you two and felt his throat tighten with a kind of pain he hadn’t experienced in years. 

Because no matter how much you smiled that night, no matter how light you tried to make your voice sound, he saw it. The exhaustion in your eyes. The tension in your shoulders. The carefully crafted responses designed to keep him from knowing the truth. You were struggling. And it killed him.

Because you were the smartest person he knew. You were supposed to be miles away from this town, pursuing the future you always dreamed of. You were supposed to be untouchable, unstoppable, radiant. But instead… you were here. Tired. Small. Dimming under the weight of a life that never stopped asking more from you.

And Kento couldn’t stand it. The thought of going back to Tokyo, of returning to his world of flashing cameras, scripts, and fame while you were stuck here, surviving day by day, made him physically ill.

I should have taken you with me, he thought bitterly. I never should have left you here.

And that’s when he decided — he wasn’t leaving without you this time.

He didn’t care what it took. He didn’t care if you pushed him away. He didn’t care if you convinced yourself you didn’t belong in his world anymore. He would break down every wall you built around yourself if it meant pulling you out of this life.

Because the truth was he never stopped loving you.

And he’d be damned if he lost you a second time. The next day, you were working your usual shift when the doorbell chimed and you didn’t need to look up to know who it was. You felt it before you even saw him. 

“…Kento.” You swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “What are you doing here?”

He looked painfully out of place in the small convenience store. He was dressed in a dark coat, hair perfectly styled, standing taller and broader than you remembered. It was almost laughable. This man who graced movie screens and magazine covers standing in the middle of your dusty workplace like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Thought I’d stop by today.” he said simply. “I was hoping to see you.”

Your stomach twisted painfully. Don’t do this, Kento.

“I, uh… I’m working on the floor.” you stammered. “Can’t really chat right now.”

“I’ll wait.”

You blinked. “…What?”

“I’ll wait until your shift is over.” he said, completely serious. “Then we’ll grab dinner. My treat.”

“Kento—”

“Don’t say no.” His voice was soft, but firm. “Please.”

And God, you almost did. You almost told him no. You almost told him to leave you alone, that you didn’t want him to see you like this anymore, that you couldn’t handle standing next to him and being reminded of how far apart your lives had become.

But you didn’t. Because deep down, you still craved him.

You craved his voice, his touch, his presence. 

Even if it hurts you just do it all over again.

“…Okay.”

The night air was cold, but his coat was warm. Somewhere between dinner and walking you home, Kento had shrugged off his expensive wool coat and draped it around your shoulders without hesitation. You tried to protest, but he wouldn’t hear it.

“Don’t argue with me about this, please.” he murmured, his hand lingering against your arm a little too long.

It was dangerous being this close to him again. 

But you couldn’t pull away from him.

“So….” you forced lightness into your voice. “What’s it like being famous?”

He scoffed. “Overrated.”

You laughed softly. “Oh, come on. You’re on billboards now. You can’t tell me it’s not a little amazing.”

“It doesn’t mean anything.” His voice was distant. “Not if you’re not there to see it.”

Your steps faltered. “…What?”

Kento stopped walking — turning to face you, his expression unreadable. “I thought about you every day.” he confessed, his voice raw. 

“Kento—”

“The entire time I was gone. I kept wondering what you were doing, if you were okay, if you were happy.” His throat bobbed. “And every time I came back home, I hoped I’d see you, but you were always gone. I… I didn’t know if you wanted to see me again.”

You felt your heart crack open. “Kento…”

“Why didn’t you tell me you stayed?” His voice broke slightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you never went to college?”

Your breath caught in your throat. “I—”

“Do you have any idea how brilliant you are?” His voice was trembling now, thick with emotion. “You were always the smartest person in the room. You deserved to get out of here….to have everything you ever dreamed of. And instead… you stayed. You gave it all up. Why?”

Tears burned the back of your eyes. “Because I didn’t have a choice, Kento.”

“Yes, you did.” His voice cracked. “You could have told me. You could have called me. I would’ve—”

“You would’ve what, Kento?” you choked. “Fixed my life for me? Paid my bills? Dragged me to Tokyo and pretended like I belonged in your world?”

His jaw clenched. “You do belong in my world.”

“No, I don’t.” you snapped, tears finally spilling over. “Look at me. I’ve been stuck in the same place since you left. I’m still living paycheck to paycheck. I didn’t finish school. I’ve done nothing with my life. And you—” your voice cracked painfully. “You’ve become everything you were meant to be.”

Silence. Thick. Suffocating.

“I didn’t want any of it.” His voice was barely a whisper.

You froze. “…What?”

Kento swallowed hard. “I didn’t want fame. The career. The spotlight. I didn’t want any of it. The only thing I ever wanted was you—and I thought… I thought if I made something of myself, you’d still be here when I came back.” His voice cracked. “But you weren’t. And I hated myself for leaving you behind.”

Your knees almost buckled.

“And now that I’m here, with you.” his voice broke. "I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

Tears poured freely down your face. “Kento, don’t—”

“Come with me.” He took a step closer, his hands trembling as they cradled your face. “Come to Tokyo. Stay with me. I’ll pay for your school, I’ll—”

“No!” you sobbed, pulling away. “I’m not your responsibility, Kento—”

“You’re not a responsibility, nor a liability.” his voice cracked. “You’re the love of my life.”

Your heart shattered. And before you could protest again, his mouth was on yours. Desperate, burning, like he was trying to make up for every single day he spent without you. His hands cradled your face, his kiss messy and filled with heartbreak. When he finally pulled away, his forehead pressed against yours.

“Please.” he whispered, voice wrecked. “Let me take you away from here. Let me love you the way I always should have.”

For the first time in years, you let yourself sob in his arms.

Because despite everything, you loved him more than anything in this world.

Despite the distance, the pain, and the time lost, you never stopped loving him either.

And maybe… just maybe… he could still save you.

YOU COULD REMEMBER THE WAY IT RAINED WHEN YOU GOT MARRIED. Not a heavy storm — just a soft, steady drizzle, as if the sky itself was quietly weeping with joy. You stood in a small, intimate venue with that beautiful smile on your face.

Both of you of you surrounded by only a few close friends and family, wearing the simplest white dress you could afford because despite Kento’s insistence that he’d buy you the most extravagant gown in Tokyo, you refused.

“I don’t need anything fancy, you know.” you told him. “I just need you.”

And so there you stood with your fingers trembling, heart racing as Kento watched you walk down the aisle like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. His jaw was tight, his caramel eyes glassy with unshed tears, like he still couldn’t believe this was real. Like he couldn’t believe, after all those years apart, you were finally becoming his wife.

When you finally reached him, his hand grasped yours like a lifeline. 

His thumb trembled as it brushed against your skin, and when he whispered, “You’re beautiful.” his voice cracked.

And when the officiant asked if he took you as his wife, Kento didn’t hesitate one bit as he looked at you with the warmest gazes. “I do.” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I always have.”

Kento never let you go after that.

You moved into his apartment in Tokyo. It was a spacious, light-filled place with floor-to-ceiling windows and a breathtaking view of the city. It was bigger than anything you’d ever lived in, and it almost made you uncomfortable at first.

But Kento never let you feel like you didn’t belong.

“This is our home now, hm?” he told you softly one night as you stood by the window, still struggling to wrap your head around it all. “Not just mine. Ours.”

And you believed him. Because every time he came home from a shoot, tired, disheveled, and smelling like expensive cologne — the first thing he did was find you. 

\Whether you were in the kitchen, the bedroom, or curled up in the living room studying, he always sought you out, kissing you like it was the first time every time.

“My wife.” he’d murmur against your lips, as if the words themselves tasted sweet. “My beautiful wife.”

And every time, your heart would ache with disbelief. Because this was real. You were really married to him. You really woke up to him every morning. His arm draped around your waist, his face buried in your neck and he really loved you like you were the most precious thing in the world. But Kento wasn’t done giving you the life you deserved.

“Tokyo University.” he said one night, casually, like it wasn’t the single most outrageous thing you’d ever heard.

You froze mid-bite. “…What?”

“I want you to apply, like you did a long time ago.” he said simply, sitting across from you at the dinner table. “You always wanted to study chemistry. Now’s your chance.”

Your throat tightened. “Kento… I can’t. I haven’t been in school for years. I can’t just—”

“Yes, you can.” His voice was firm but gentle. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever known. Don’t tell me you can’t do it.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. “But the tuition—”

“I’ll pay for it.”

Your head snapped up. “Kento, no—”

“Yes.” His gaze was unwavering. “I’ll pay for every single yen. I’ll cover your tuition, your textbooks, your lab fees. Everything. You won’t have to worry about anything.” His voice softened. “Please. Let me do this for you.”

Tears burned your eyes. “I don’t want to feel like a burden to you, Kento.”

“You’re not a burden, never will be.” he said fiercely, already pushing his chair back so he could kneel in front of you. His large hands cupped your face, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “You’re my wife. Everything I have is yours. My money, my time, my life. It’s all yours. And if it means giving you the future you always dreamed of, then I’ll do it a thousand times over.”

And with that, you broke down. You sobbed into his chest, clutching him like your life depended on it, because you realized Kento meant it. Every word. Every promise. He was going to build you a life so beautiful, so far removed from the pain you endured, that you’d never have to feel unworthy again.

So the next day, you applied. And Kento wrote the check without blinking an eye. 

You could still remember months later, the day you got accepted into Tokyo University, you burst into tears. You were in the kitchen when the letter arrived, your hands trembling as you tore it open and the second you saw “Congratulations, you’ve been accepted!”

You collapsed onto the floor, sobbing.

“Kento, Kento!” you choked, clutching the letter like it was your lifeline. “I got in! Oh god…. I got in!”

Kento was on you in seconds, kneeling beside you, his face crumpling with pride. “I told you. I told you, baby!” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “I told you you could do it.”

And that night, he took you out to dinner, something extravagant, something you never would have been able to afford on your own. When the waiter congratulated you, Kento beamed like he was the one who got accepted.

“Her, it was her who got in.” he told the waiter proudly. “That’s my wife. She’s going to Tokyo University for chemistry. Smartest woman I’ve ever met.”

And when you glanced at him, with those eyes glassy, heart full, you realized he wasn’t just proud. He was in awe of you. Like he always had been. 

And for a while, it was perfect.

Life slipped into something sweet and steady. You were a university student again, just like you’d always dreamed. You spent your days attending lectures, taking meticulous notes, and spending long afternoons in the library surrounded by textbooks and the faint smell of old paper. You were learning again. Living again. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you.

And Kento? God, he was your biggest cheerleader.

Every morning before you left for class, he kissed you on the forehead and said, “Knock ‘em dead, love.” 

Every night when you came home, exhausted but fulfilled, he had dinner ready and waiting. When you showed him your test scores, perfect marks, one after another. Your husband would beam with pride like he was the one who’d aced the exam. 

When you complained about a difficult professor or a tedious lab experiment, he’d listen intently, rubbing circles into your back, and say, “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

And every night, when you fell asleep beside him, you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Hope. But then —slowly, quietly— the loneliness crept in. Because Kento wasn’t home most of the time.

At first, you didn’t notice. You were busy, after all. You were drowning in lab reports, study sessions, and back-to-back classes. But then you started realizing how quiet the apartment felt when you got home. You’d unlock the door, expecting to hear the hum of the television or Kento’s soft humming in the kitchen but it was always silent. Always empty.

You told yourself it was fine. That was just how it was going to be sometimes. Your Kento was working hard, just like you were. It was only temporary. But weeks passed. Then months. And Kento started coming home later and later.

At first, it was 8 PM. Then 9. Then 10. And soon, there were nights where he didn’t come home at all, just a brief, apologetic text. “Late meeting. Don’t wait for me. Love you.”

And you tried to be understanding. You tried. After all, Kento was the one supporting you. He was paying your tuition, your textbooks, your transportation — everything. He was shouldering the entire financial weight of your dream without a single complaint. The least you could do was be patient.

But good god, it was so lonely.

You’d eat dinner alone most nights, your plate growing cold as you stared at the empty seat across from you. You’d do your assignments at the kitchen table, hoping to hear the jingle of his keys at the door  but it never came. You started sleeping alone more often than not, his side of the bed cold and untouched.

And worst of all you missed him.

You missed Kento. You missed the man who used to laugh with you until your stomach hurt. 

The man who used to kiss you breathless in the middle of the kitchen just because he could. 

The man who used to touch your belly every night and whisper. “I can’t wait to meet our baby.” 

The man who promised you. “I’ll always put you first.”

But now? You were starting to feel like you’d lost him. And then came the night that broke you.

It was well past midnight, and you were curled up on the couch, your textbooks sprawled around you. You told yourself you wouldn’t wait up for him, but you did. You always did. Hours passed, and still — no sign of him. Finally, at 1:27 AM, you heard the door unlock.

“Kento?” you called, your voice cracking.

He didn’t answer right away. When he finally stepped into the living room, his tie was loose, his shirt wrinkled, and the exhaustion in his eyes was so deep it made your chest ache.

“Hey.” he murmured, already walking past you toward the bedroom.

And something in you snapped.

“Seriously?” you blurted. “That’s all you have to say?”

Kento froze, his hand still on the doorframe. “…What?”

You stood, your heart pounding. “You’ve been gone all day again. And you just walk in like I don’t even exist?”

He turned to you, confused. “I—I’m sorry. Work ran late—”

“It always runs late, Kento!” your voice cracked, hot tears stinging your eyes. “Every night, I sit here alone. I eat alone. I sleep alone. Do you even realize how lonely it is to come home to an empty apartment every single day?”

Pain flickered across his face. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m doing this for you, love. I’m working so you can go to school—”

“I never asked you to do that!” you shouted, and the second the words left your mouth, you regretted them.

Kento blinked, stunned. “…What?”

Your chest heaved. “I never asked you to throw your entire life away for me, Kento! I never asked you to quit your project, or work insane hours, or pay for everything. You just did it. And now it’s like I don’t even have a husband anymore. I just have this… ghost who comes home at 2 AM and leaves before I wake up!”

Silence. Thick. Suffocating.

Kento’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening. “…You think I want this?”

You froze. “…What?”

“You think I like working sixteen-hour days?” his voice cracked, raw and strained. “You think I enjoy being away from you? Missing dinner, missing sleep, missing everything…..you think any of this is what I wanted?”

Your throat tightened. “Kento—”

“I did it for you, you know that.” he said bitterly. “I did it so you wouldn’t have to worry about money. I did it so you could chase your dream without worrying about bills or tuition. I did it because I thought it would make you happy.” His voice cracked. “But you’re not, are you?”

Tears blurred your vision. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” he laughed hollowly, running a hand down his face. “I work until I can’t see straight just to keep everything together and you still think I’m not doing enough.”

“That’s not true at all!”

“Then what do you want from me, love?” his voice finally broke, desperate and shattered. “Tell me. Please. What do you want?”

And the answer was so painfully simple, it tore you apart.

I just want you.

But you couldn’t say it. Because how could you ask that of him when he’d already given you everything? When he was breaking his back just to keep you afloat? When he’d already sacrificed his career, his sleep, his time, his life for you?

So instead, you just cried and cried.

And for the first time in your marriage, Kento didn’t comfort you.

He just turned away, defeated, and said, “I’m going to bed.”

And you realized somewhere along the way, you and Kento had become strangers for the first time.

And it hurts like hell to live with that thought.

But of course, it wouldn’t be the last time.

THINGS DID NOT GET BETTER.  If anything, they got worse. You were pregnant. And everything was hurting. It was a different kind of pain now, not just the crushing weight of your depression, but something more physical, more suffocating. 

Your body aches constantly. Your back screamed from the weight of your growing belly. Your feet were perpetually swollen. Your nights were restless, spent tossing and turning as the baby kicked relentlessly inside you, reminding you always reminding you — that there was no way out of this life you didn’t want. And it was killing you.

You thought hitting rock bottom would come with some kind of clarity. Like one day, you’d cry hard enough or sleep long enough or starve yourself numb enough that your body would finally break through the darkness. You thought there would be some moment, some visceral breaking point that would force you to finally start healing.

But it never came.

Instead, you just… sank.

Deeper and deeper, like trying to breathe underwater with lungs already half-filled. Every day you woke up was a fresh kind of misery. You couldn’t get out of bed without feeling like your bones were made of lead. 

You couldn’t stomach food without wanting to throw it all up later. You couldn’t look in the mirror without despising the reflection. You see a bloated, pale, hollowed out, a shell of the woman you used to be.

And the baby never stopped kicking.

You hated it.

God, you hated it.

You hated the way it never let you sleep. You hated the way your body no longer felt like yours. You hated the constant, suffocating reminder that soon, almost all too soon, you would be responsible for a life you never asked for. A life you were already failing before it even arrived.

But the worst part?

You hated yourself for hating it.

Because what kind of mother resented her own baby before it was even born? What kind of woman laid in bed, day after day, clutching her belly and wishing god, please just make this stop  instead of feeling love? What kind of wife watched her husband sacrifice everything for her and still felt nothing but numb, bitter emptiness?

And Kento.

God, Kento.

You couldn’t even look at him anymore without feeling like the most wretched person alive. He was still trying — still holding everything together, still waking up every morning and kissing your forehead, still whispering, “I love you. I’m here.” 

But you could see it now — the slow, painful unraveling of the man you loved. The exhaustion in his eyes, no longer just from work but from you. The hesitation in his touch, like he was afraid you’d pull away — and sometimes, you did.

The way his voice cracked when he said, “How are you feeling today, love?” and your answer was always “I’m fine.”

But you weren’t fine.

And Kento knew it.

You could see it every night when he crawled into bed beside you and held you close. The way his hand cradles your stomach, his thumb tracing soft circles over your skin. You could feel it in the way his touch, once so warm and electric, now felt like a desperate attempt to keep you here. Like if he let go for even a second, you’d slip through his fingers entirely.

And you hated that too.

Because you knew you were killing him. Slowly. Quietly. Without even trying. You could see it in his slumped shoulders, in the way his voice grew quieter, in the way he looked at you like he was losing you and didn’t know how to stop it.

And you wanted to scream — Stop loving me. Stop trying to save me. I’m already gone.

But you didn’t.

Because how could you say that to the man who dropped his entire career for you? The man who worked twenty-hour days just to pay for your tuition, your food, your life? The man who still kissed you goodbye every morning and told you, “I love you, always.”

So you did the only thing you could.

You kept shrinking.

You stopped eating. Barely touched your dinner when Kento brought it to you. The smell made you nauseous anyway, and even when it didn’t, you could barely stomach the idea of keeping yourself alive, let alone another human growing inside you.

You stopped leaving the house. Your classes had already been dropped; you told Kento it was temporary, just until you felt better. But deep down, you knew you weren’t going back. Tokyo University had suddenly become a distant dream once again, like a life that belonged to someone else entirely. And you were too far gone now to reach for it again.

You stopped responding to your friends. They texted you constantly, trying to check on you. You know they mean well. You know they just want to be there for you. And that they were excited. But you were having a hard time accepting their well wishes.

“How’s the baby? How’s school? We miss you!” 

But the thought of replying made your stomach churn. What were you supposed to say, that wouldn’t come out as a horrible thing? 

“I’m miserable. I don’t want this baby. I don’t want this life.” 

Would have that gotten you some mercy?

So you ignored them. Deleted their messages. Let your phone die and don't bother charging it. And then you stopped talking to Kento. Not entirely. But enough.

Later on, Kento halted the work on his upcoming project the day after you broke down. No warning. No hesitation. One phone call to his manager, another to his agency, and it was done. His voice was steady, almost unnervingly calm when he said: “I’m taking a break for now. My wife needs me.” 

And that was it. He dropped it all like it meant nothing. A project he had poured months of his life into, had gone in seconds. You tried to protest when you found out, but he wouldn’t hear it. His mind was made up before you could even form the words —“Don’t do this for me.”

And then he stayed.

Every single day, he stayed. Morning turned to night, and there he was. Bringing you water when you couldn’t stomach food. Sitting on the edge of the bed while you stared blankly at the ceiling. Holding you through the nights when your body trembled from crying, or worse, the nights when you didn’t cry at all, just lay there like a ghost in your own skin.

He was patient. Devoted. Unwavering.

But it didn’t fix anything.

Because the damage was already done.

You could feel it in the way his touch, once so warm and electric, now felt like a desperate attempt to tether you to the earth. In the way his voice,  soft, pleading, loving had seemed to echo against the walls of your hollowed-out chest, never quite reaching you. 

In this way you could still feel the crushing weight of your own failure suffocating you, no matter how many times he whispered “I’m here. I’m not leaving.”

And the worst part?

You wanted him to leave.

Because it hurt too much to see him like this. Abandoning his career, his life, his future, for someone who couldn’t even muster the strength to get out of bed. You resented the way he sacrificed everything for you. 

You hated how the look in his eyes shifted from affection to concern, from admiration to pity. You despised yourself for being the reason his world was crumbling alongside yours. And deep down, you knew. Kento could stay forever, and it still wouldn’t fix what was already broken.

And after that, you stopped going to school.

At first, you told Kento it was temporary,  just a leave of absence until you felt better. But weeks turned into months, and soon your professors were emailing you: “If you do not return, you will have to re-enroll next semester.”

You didn’t respond.

Because the truth was, you didn’t care anymore.

Your stomach was huge now. You could barely walk up the stairs without losing your breath. Your back ached. Your feet were swollen. You couldn’t sleep through the night because the baby was always kicking, and every morning you woke up with the same suffocating thought.

"I don’t want this life."

And the guilt ate you alive.

Because you loved Kento. You loved your baby. But you hated your life. You hated what it had become. You hated the fact that you were no longer a student at Tokyo University. You were just a pregnant woman, a pregnant housewife. You hated the fact that you no longer had a future — you just had motherhood. You just had this house, his status as a wife.

And Kento saw it. He saw how you’d spend hours just sitting in the nursery, staring at the crib with dead eyes. He saw how you stopped studying, stopped watching TV, stopped doing anything. It was like you were fading away.

And it killed him.

You could see it in the way his shoulders sagged a little more each day, as if the weight of watching you deteriorate was slowly crushing him. In the way he tried to hide the bags under his eyes from sleepless nights spent worrying about you. 

In this way his voice would crack, just barely, when he’d sit next to you and say, “Talk to me, love. Please.”

But you had nothing to say. What were you supposed to tell him? That you hated the life you were about to bring into the world? That you regretted everything — the pregnancy, the wedding, the choices that led you here? That sometimes, when you laid in bed at night, you imagined what it would be like if you just… didn’t wake up?

So you said nothing. Nothing at all.

And Kento tried to be strong for both of you. God, he tried.

He started cooking your favorite meals, hoping that if he made something delicious enough, you’d actually eat. He read parenting books late into the night, convinced that if he just learned enough, he could do this whole thing for the both of you, carry the weight, make up for the pieces of you that were falling apart. He took you on walks when he could get you out of bed, holding your hand like it was the only thing anchoring him to hope.

But it was never enough.

It was never going to be enough.

Because the truth was — you weren’t just sad. 

You were grieving everything that had come to pass.

You were grieving the life you lost, the person you used to be. You were grieving the dreams you once held so fiercely. Finishing university, traveling, building a career as a chemist on the international level. All of it now reduced to a hazy memory of a different girl. A girl you didn’t even recognize anymore. A girl you resented for being so foolish, for thinking she could have it all.

And you were grieving the love between you and Kento — or rather, the version of it that existed before the pregnancy. Before everything became tainted by your guilt, your depression, your ever-growing resentment for the life you didn’t want.

You knew that Kento saw it too.

He saw how you flinched when he touched your stomach,  not out of pain, but because it reminded you of what you were trapped in. He saw how your kisses grew colder, how you turned your head when he tried to kiss you goodnight. He saw how you stopped saying your i love yous first — how sometimes, you didn’t say it at all.

And still, he stayed by your side. But it was breaking him whole. 

You could hear it in the way his voice cracked one night when he thought you were asleep.

He sat beside you in bed, his hand resting gently on your belly, and you heard him whisper back to you. “I don’t know how to fix this.” His voice trembled. “I don’t know how to help you.”

And that was when you realized — you weren’t the only one grieving. Kento was grieving too. He was grieving the wife he used to know. The one who laughed too loud at his jokes, who kissed him in the morning just because, who fell asleep on the couch with a textbook still in her lap. 

He was grieving the life you both dreamed of late nights studying, early mornings rushing to class, careers that would take you far. He was grieving the love that used to be effortless, the kind that didn’t require whispered prayers in the middle of the night, hoping that tomorrow would hurt less than today.

And the worst part?

You were the one who did this to him.

At least that’s how you saw it all now.

You were the one who dragged him down into this suffocating darkness with you. You were the one who made him abandon his project, his career, his life. All for a woman who could barely look at herself in the mirror without breaking. 

And every day he stayed, every day he kissed your forehead and said “I’m here”, you hated yourself a little more.

You hated yourself so much that you started to wonder if maybe — just maybe — Kento would be better off without you.

And that thought never really left.

Even when he painted the nursery walls soft yellow and smiled like he wasn’t dying inside.

Even when he held your hand in the middle of the night and promised, “We’ll get through this. I swear we will.”

Even when he looked at you with a love so devastatingly pure, it only made you ache more.

Because you couldn’t shake the feeling. That Kento deserved a better wife. And your baby deserved a better mother. And you? You didn’t deserve them at all. Around your seventh month, you completely broke.

Kento found you in the bathroom at 3 AM all alone as you were sitting in the empty bathtub, knees pulled to your chest, sobbing silently. You looked miserable with your hair disheveled and your face contorted into this look, full of grief and suffering.

“Baby?” His voice cracked. “Oh my god, baby, what’s wrong?”

And you just shook your head. “I hate this so much.” you gasped through your tears. “I hate my life. I hate my body. I hate everything. I don’t want to do this anymore, Kento. I can’t…..I can’t breathe.”

And Kento completely fell apart at the sight of your tears, falling over and over again.  “Baby, no— no, no, no.” he dropped to his knees beside the tub, his hands shaking. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. I’m here now. I’ll fix it. I’ll make it better, so—”

“You can’t!” you screamed, your voice raw and cracked. “You can’t fix this, Kento! I’m already ruined! My life is already ruined!”

And Kento? Kento completely broke. Because he realized you weren’t talking about the pregnancy. You were talking about yourself. And you were gone. All there was left now was the shell, that shell he didn’t recognize.

“I should’ve never gotten pregnant, Kento.” you sobbed, your body shaking. “I should’ve never gotten married. I should’ve stayed in school. I should’ve never left the countryside. I should’ve……I should’ve never let this happen.”

And Kento completely lost it. “Don’t say that.” he begged, his voice cracking. 

He climbed into the bathtub with you, fully clothed, and wrapped his arms around you. “Don’t say that, baby, please— please don’t say that. You’re not ruined. I swear to god, I’ll fix it. I’ll fix everything. Just don’t give up on me. Please don’t give up on me.”

And you just sobbed.

Because deep down, you already had.

You were right to feel that way.

It was only a matter of time when the labor came early.

You had never expected it — not this soon, not like this.

It was just around thirty-five weeks then. The baby wasn’t supposed to come yet. You still had time. Weeks. You weren’t ready. Your hospital bag wasn’t packed. The nursery still smelled like fresh paint. You hadn’t even washed the baby’s clothes yet. You weren’t supposed to go into labor yet.

But the universe didn’t care.

Your water broke in the middle of the night — and you knew instantly that something was wrong. The pain hit fast and hard, unlike anything you’d ever felt. Sharp, blinding contractions ripped through your abdomen, so intense that it stole the breath from your lungs. 

You barely managed to shake Kento awake, your voice cracked and choked, “Kento — my water……it broke—”

And the moment he saw the panic in your eyes, he moved. Kento didn’t even ask questions. He sprang out of bed, grabbing his phone with one hand and you with the other, already calling for an ambulance. 

His voice was low, controlled, but you could hear the terror behind it. “Yes, my wife is thirty-five weeks pregnant. Her water just broke — she’s in pain — please send someone—”

But the contractions were coming too fast. One after the other, barely a minute in between, and by the time Kento helped you into the back of the ambulance, you knew. The baby was coming now. And the baby would have no mercy on you.

“No, no, no!” you sobbed, clutching your belly as another contraction ripped through you, your body already beginning to push despite your desperate attempts to stop it. “It’s too soon — it’s too soon—”

Kento was right there beside you, his hand in yours, his voice cracked and desperate. “You’re okay, love. You’re gonna be okay. I’m right here. I’m not leaving you.”

But you didn’t feel okay. You felt like you were dying. And by the time you reached the hospital, you were already fully dilated. The doctors barely had time to wheel you into labor and delivery before you were screaming through another contraction, your body forcing you to push despite your terror.

And Kento was there. The entire time — he was there. His hand never left yours, his voice never stopped murmuring reassurances in your ear. “You can do this, love. I know you can. Just a little longer. Just hold on for me.”

But you couldn’t.

Because something was wrong.

You could feel it in your bones. In the way your body fought itself with every push, in the way your vision kept blurring, in the way you couldn’t seem to catch your breath no matter how hard you tried. And then, in the middle of a push — you felt it.

A sudden, hot gush between your legs. But it wasn’t amniotic fluid this time. It was warm. And sticky. And you didn’t have to look down to know. You were bleeding. A lot. You could feel how it echoes down, heavy and brutish.

“Kento—” your voice cracked, raw with pain. “Something’s— something’s wrong—”

And then you heard it.

The doctor’s voice, sharp and urgent. 

“She’s hemorrhaging. We’re losing her.”

And that’s when Kento lost his fucking mind.

“What?” His voice snapped, pure, raw panic flooding his face. His grip on your hand tightened like a vice. “What do you mean you’re losing her?!”

“Her blood pressure is dropping! Massive uterine hemorrhage. Doctor,  she’s losing too much blood—”

“No — no, no, no—” Kento stumbled forward, his voice cracking as his hands shook. “Do something! Save her! Save them both!”

“We need to get the baby out now or we’re going to lose them both, Mr. Nanami!”

And suddenly it was chaos. Nurses shouting. Machines beeping. Someone calling for blood transfusions. And you — fading. You could feel it. Your body was giving out, your vision was growing dim, and the only thing you could focus on was Kento.

“Kento.” you rasped, your voice so faint, so weak. Your body felt like it was drifting. “I—I love you—”

“No!” Kento screamed. He screamed like something inside him was tearing apart. His hands clawed at the hospital bed, his body lunging toward you as the doctors tried to pull him away. “No, stay with me! Stay with me, love! Don’t you fucking do this—Don’t you dare leave me!”

But you were already slipping.

The last thing you heard was his voice, raw and broken.

“I can’t do this without you. Please! Please don’t leave me. Please—”

And then, darkness.

HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. Nanami Kento couldn’t do anything but collapse in the hallway. The moment they pulled him out of the delivery room. The moment the words the doctor said, all of that rang in his ears like a death sentence. He was sure that something inside him snapped.

And when the door slammed shut behind him, separating him from you, Kento’s knees buckled. He hit the floor hard. Hands splayed out against the cold tile, chest heaving, throat raw from screaming. He didn’t even realize he was still screaming until two nurses rushed toward him, trying to pull him up, trying to calm him down, but it was useless.

Because he could still hear it. The frantic shouts of the doctors. The horrifying words “Massive hemorrhage. We’re losing her.” The sound of your screams cutting off too abruptly. And worst of all — the unbearable silence that followed.

“No—” Kento howled, his voice breaking like glass. His hands clawed at his hair, his entire body wracked with violent, gut-wrenching sobs. “No, no, no— I killed her. I fucking killed her—”

“Sir, Mr. Nanami.” one of the nurses knelt beside him, reaching out. “You have to breathe, you’re hyperventilating—”

But Kento didn’t hear her.

He couldn’t hear anything.

He didn’t care to hear whatever that was.

All he could think about, all he could see was you. Your face twisted in pain. The absolute terror in your eyes when you realized something was wrong. The way you sobbed I don’t want this, Kento, I’m not ready. And he did this. He did this to you.

His body convulsed with the force of his grief, his head slamming against the tile as his sobs tore from his chest like a wounded animal. “I killed her. I killed her. I made her hate her life and now she’s gone. She’s gone—”

“Sir—” The nurse was trying to hold him down now, his entire body thrashing against the floor as he screamed. “Sir, please, you’re going to hurt yourself—”

“LET ME GO!” Kento roared, his voice so raw it barely sounded human. “She’s dying in there. Do you understand me?! She’s fucking dying in there and I……”

Another contraction of sobs wracked his chest, and his fists slammed into the floor so hard that his knuckles split. Blood smeared against the tile, but he didn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel anything.

“I made her hate her life.” his voice cracked, his chest seizing with suffocating grief. His hands curled into his hair again, yanking hard as if trying to punish himself. “I did this to her. I made her want to die. And now she’s gone and I’m still here. ”

“Stop, please.” the nurse’s voice broke, her own eyes glassy as she tried to steady him. “She’s not gone. They’re trying to save her in there, with the baby.”

“No.” Kento’s head snapped up, his face twisted in a horrifying mix of rage and agony. His eyes were bloodshot, glassy, utterly devastated. “You don’t get it. You don’t fucking get it.” His voice cracked so sharply it sounded like it physically hurt him to speak.

“She wanted to die, to be free of that misery. Don’t you see?” he choked. “She hated her life. And it’s my fault. It’s my fucking fault—”

And then his body gave out.

His chest collapsed onto the cold tile floor, his forehead pressed into it as his entire body shook. Choked, gasping sobs clawed from his throat, so violent that he could barely breathe. His lungs were burning, his vision was spinning, and he was sure, so fucking sure, that this was it. That they were going to come out and tell him you were dead.

And it was his fault. 

All of it was his fault.

Because he saw it. 

He saw it every single day. The way you sat in the nursery with dead eyes. The way you stopped smiling. The way you couldn’t even say I’m excited without your voice cracking. The way your love for him was slowly being choked out by the sheer weight of your depression.

And he didn’t stop any of it. Instead, he told you to keep going. He told you to hold on. He let you suffer in silence because he thought that’s what you needed but you didn’t. You needed help. You needed saving. And instead, he trapped you in a life you never wanted.

And now you are dying.

All because of him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Kento sobbed, his forehead slamming against the tile again, his blood smearing across the floor. “I’m so fucking sorry. Please….please, I’ll do anything. Just let her live. Please.”

And that was the first time in his life that Kento Nanami prayed. He prayed like a man possessed. Like a man who had nothing left to lose. His bloody fists clawed at the tile, his nails cracking against it as he begged.

“Take me,please.” he sobbed, his voice mutilated from screaming. “Please….just take me instead. I don’t care. I don’t fucking care. Just…. Please don’t take her. Don’t take my wife. Don’t take my baby. I’ll do anything.”

But the silence stretched on.

And he was certain that you were already gone.

Hours continued to make mockery of him.

Agonizing, torturous hours passed — and Kento was still on the floor.

He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe right. Didn’t think. His body was stuck in that same position. Still face down, forehead pressed against the cold tile, hands trembling as he clenched them into bloody fists. His chest was heaving in short, sharp gasps, his entire body quaking as he sobbed.

He was certain you were dead. He felt it. He felt the moment your soul left the room. He felt the moment the light in his life snapped off like a switch. 

He was convinced that at any second, the doctor was going to come out, look him in the eyes, and say, “I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami. We couldn’t save her.”

And he would never forgive himself.

Because he killed you.

His fault. His fault. His fucking fault.

He was still gasping, still clawing at the ground, still praying like a desperate man when he finally heard the door open. Kento’s head snapped up. His bloodshot, swollen eyes immediately locked onto the doctor walking toward him, his scrubs covered in blood — your blood — and Kento’s entire body seized.

“Mr. Nanami—”

“Where is she?” Kento screamed. His voice cracked, broke, his entire body lunging toward the doctor like a caged animal. His hands fisted the man’s scrubs, yanking him forward. “Is my wife alive? Tell me, damn it? Is she alive?”

The doctor barely had a chance to respond before Kento screamed again. “Tell me you saved her, goddamn you!”

And the doctor’s mouth opened — and Kento swore the entire universe stopped spinning when he finally said,  “…She’s alive.”

Kento’s entire body collapsed. His legs gave out. His grip on the doctor’s scrubs slipped. And then he didn’t realize that he had hit the floor. A gasping, broken sob ripped from his throat. The kind of sob that came from a man who was seconds away from losing everything and his entire body convulsed as he wept.

“Oh my god…..” Kento choked, his hands flying to his face, clawing at his own skin like he was trying to ground himself. “Oh my god. She’s alive. She’s alive!”

“Her condition is critical, Mr. Nanami.” the doctor warned, his voice low but steady. “We had to perform an emergency c-section and a hysterectomy to stop the bleeding. She lost over forty percent of her blood volume. We had to resuscitate her twice on the table—”

“Resuscitate?” he gasped, his vision swimming. His stomach lurched. “You mean she….she died?”

“Clinically, yes. Twice.” The doctor’s face softened with pity. “But we got her back. She’s stable now — unconscious, but alive.”

And that was all Kento needed to hear.

He ran. He didn’t even think. His legs moved before his brain could catch up, his entire body sprinting down the hall, his bloody knuckles slamming into every door he passed until he finally found your room.

The second he stepped inside, he broke.

Because there you were.

Unconscious.

Your body was completely limp, hooked up to a ventilator, your skin so pale it looked blue. Tubes were coming out of everywhere. From your arm, your nose, your mouth and there were fresh surgical dressings covering your abdomen where they had cut you open to get the baby out.

Kento couldn’t breathe. A strangled, animalistic sound tore from his throat like something between a sob and a scream and then he collapsed beside your bed. His hand shot out, desperately clutching yours, his entire body wracked with gut-wrenching sobs as he shook.

“I’m so sorry…..oh my god, I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” Kento’s voice shattered, his head dropping onto your hand as his body convulsed. His chest was heaving so violently that he was on the verge of hyperventilating. “I did this. I did this to you and I….”

He couldn’t stop sobbing. His forehead pressed against your limp hand, his body rocking as he cried like a child. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry….” he choked. “I made you hate your life and I trapped you. I killed you…. oh my god, I killed you….”

And the guilt hit him like a sledgehammer. 

Because it was true. All of it.

He saw the way you suffered. The way you faded every single day. The way you stopped smiling. The way you stopped living. And instead of saving you, he kept telling you to hold on. Just a little longer, love. We’re almost there. Just a little longer.

But you weren’t okay. And Kento didn’t listen. And now you were lying there. Pale, lifeless, barely hanging on. All because of him. And the weight of it crushed him whole. He felt like Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders.

And then finally, you woke up.

“…Kento?” your voice cracked.

“Baby.” he sobbed, grabbing your face, pressing desperate kisses all over your skin. “Oh my baby…..you’re awake. You’re awake. I thought I lost you. I thought….”

“…Where’s the baby?”

And Kento completely broke. “The baby’s fine, don’t worry.” he choked. “She’s perfect. She’s beautiful. But you….you scared the shit out of me, baby. Please don’t ever do that again.”

And when they finally brought your baby girl in and you held her for the first time — you did something you didn’t expect. You cried. And then you sobbed. Because for the first time in nine months — you finally felt something coherent. Something good.

“…She’s beautiful.” you gasped. “I didn’t think I’d love her. But I do. I love her so much.”

Kento just collapsed against your hospital bed, sobbing. “I knew you would. I knew you would.”

But things are like the weather.

They were bound to change.

You should have known.

THE FIRST MONTH WAS HARD, BUT AS TIME WENT ON, IT GOT WORSE. You came home from the hospital physically intact but mentally, you were gone. You still didn’t go back to school. You didn’t touch your textbooks. You didn’t even mention chemistry. The once-brilliant student who dreamed of working in a lab was now just… a mother. And you hated it.

Every single day felt like a fog. You were exhausted but it wasn’t the baby’s fault. You knew that much. It was you that was malfunctioning. You didn’t know how to connect with her. Every time she cried, you felt nothing.

Every time she smiled, you felt nothing. Every time Kento handed her to you and said something to praise your beautiful daughter, you didn’t know how to react. You just nodded and let it go.  And Kento noticed. God, he noticed.

Kento stayed home for a month. He refused to leave your side. He didn’t take calls, he didn’t attend meetings. He just stayed home. But his contract required him to go back to work eventually. And you… you told him to go.

“Go, you have to.” you whispered, your voice dead. “You have to work, Kento. We have bills. You already missed so much.”

But Kento didn’t want to.

“Baby— no. I don’t give a shit about work. I’m not leaving you like this.”

And you forced a smile. “I’m fine, Kento.”

But you weren’t.

You weren’t.

And Kento knew it.

But eventually, he had to go. He had no choice. His manager was calling nonstop. His agency was threatening breach of contract. He had a new film that needed him and Kento was the lead role. So he left. And the guilt burned a hole in his chest.

The first day he was back on set, he couldn’t focus. His co-stars were talking to him, the director was giving him instructions but all he could think about was you. Home. Alone. With a baby you didn’t love. Kento hated himself. 

He was filming a scene when his phone buzzed in his pocket — and when he saw your name pop up, he immediately froze. 

“CUT!” the director barked. “Kento, you okay?”

“…Yeah, director.” he croaked. “I just— I need five minutes.”

And then he ran.

He ran behind the trailer, shaking, and picked up the phone. “Baby?” he gasped, panic echoing in his voice. “What’s wrong? Is the baby okay? Are you okay?”

Silence. “…I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

And Kento’s heart completely shattered.

“Baby…..” his voice cracked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…..” you gasped, voice shaking. “I mean I can’t do this. I can’t be a mom. I don’t love her, Kento. I don’t—I don’t feel anything for her. I just feel empty. And I know she deserves better. I know you deserve better. I think….I….I just….”

Your voice cracked. “I think I ruined my life.”

Kento collapsed. “No, baby. No. Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” He was crying now, gasping into the phone. “You didn’t ruin your life. You didn’t. I promise I’ll fix this. I’ll come home right now—”

“No, you won’t.”

Kento completely broke. “Baby, please.”

“No, Kento. You have to work. We need the money. We need—”

“I don’t care about the fucking money!” Kento sobbed, clutching his hair. “I care about you! I care about our family! Please don’t give up on me, baby. Please don’t give up on her.”

But you just hung up.

Kento completely lost it.

He didn’t go back on set. He stayed behind the trailer, sobbing into his hands, shaking, thinking: “I ruined her life. I did this to her. She was supposed to be in college — not stuck at home with a baby.”

And that thought ate him alive. The next few weeks were worse. Kento was dying. Not physically but mentally, emotionally and spiritually, he was. Every single day he walked onto set, it felt like he was leaving you behind. And it was killing him.

Because all he could think about was you. Alone. Depressed. Hollowed out. Not wanting the baby. And he wasn’t there. He was never there. Every single time he put on that suit, stepped in front of the cameras, smiled for his co-stars. He was dying.

Because he knew. He knew the second he came home, you would be worse. Every day it got worse. Every fucking day.

At first, it was subtle. You were tired. Distant. Quiet. But then the days started stretching into weeks, and suddenly you weren’t just tired, you were empty. Your smiles were forced. Your voice was flat. You didn’t ask about his day anymore. You didn’t kiss him when he got home.

And Kento tried to justify it. It’s just the hormones. She’s overwhelmed. She’ll come back to me soon. She’ll come back to me.

But you didn’t.

And Kento broke down again.

Because the more days that passed, the less of you he saw.

You stopped eating dinner with him. You stopped holding the baby. You stopped getting out of bed. You wouldn’t look at him. And the worst part? You didn’t even cry. You just… stared. Blank. Numb. And Kento couldn’t handle it.

He fucking hated himself. Every single day he drove to set, his stomach would turn. He’d clench his jaw the entire time, his hands shaking as he held the steering wheel because he knew. You were at home. Alone. With a baby you didn’t love. And he wasn’t there. And the guilt was going to fucking eat him alive.

One night, Kento came home early. He couldn’t do it anymore. He was on set, trying to read his lines, but his hands were shaking. His mouth felt dry. His mind kept screaming to him: She’s alone. She’s not okay. She’s not okay. She’s not okay. Go home right now.

So he left. He didn’t even tell his manager. He just ripped off his mic and drove home. And when he walked through the door….You were just… sitting there. On the couch. Completely catatonic. Your body was slumped forward. Your eyes were glazed over, completely hollow. You weren’t blinking. You weren’t moving. You weren’t alive.

Baby?” His voice shattered.

Nothing. Kento’s heart slammed into his throat. He dropped his keys, his coat, everything, and sprinted toward you, falling to his knees in front of the couch.

“Baby, please….” his voice cracked. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs trembling as they brushed over your cheeks. “Please talk to me. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

But you didn’t blink.

You didn’t look at him.

You just… stared at the wall.

Kento’s stomach lurched.

His throat closed.

And then you finally spoke.

In a voice so dead, so hollow, that it didn’t even sound like you anymore. “…I don’t want to be a mom anymore.”

“Baby,” his voice broke. He practically collapsed against you, his forehead pressing to your lap as his hands clutched yours. “Please don’t say that. Please, god—”

“I don’t.” you said flatly. Your voice didn’t even crack. It was just… dead. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want her. I don’t want anything.”

Kento’s entire body convulsed.

“Baby, no.” His voice split down the middle. His hands squeezed yours so tight his knuckles went white. “Please don’t talk like that. I know it’s hard. I know you feel alone. But I love you. I love our baby. We can fix this, baby. I’ll fix it. I’ll fix everything.”

But you didn’t believe him.

Because the truth was — you didn’t want him to fix it.

You didn’t want help. You didn’t want therapy. You didn’t want him to stay home from work. You didn’t want him to coddle you or tell you it would get better.

You just wanted your old life back. You wanted school. You wanted chemistry. You wanted the future you spent years building. But instead, you were just Keiko’s mother. And you fucking hated yourself for it.

“I never wanted this.” you whispered numbly, your eyes glazed over. “I didn’t want to have a baby. I didn’t want to give up school. I didn’t want this life. And now it’s all I have.”

Kento couldn’t breathe. His chest split open. His hands shook violently as he tried to pull you closer, his head buried in your lap. “Please, baby….” his voice splintered. “Please don’t talk like that. I need you. Our baby needs you. We love you.”

But you didn’t respond.

You just kept staring.

Kento sobbed heavily.

His entire body convulsed. His shoulders shook. His throat ripped open as gut-wrenching sobs tore out of him. “I’m so sorry.” he gasped. His face buried into your lap, his tears soaking your clothes. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”

And you didn’t comfort him. You didn’t hold him. You didn’t wipe his tears. You didn’t say anything. Because deep down, you hated him, too. You hated that he got to have a life. You hated that he still had his career. You hated that he still had a future.

And you, who you once knew?

You were just a mom.

You were trapped.

And you resented him for it.

YOU WENT AWAY FOR A LITTLE WHILE. It was a shut-in therapy. Somewhere far. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere that felt detached from the life you had been drowning in. Kento made the arrangements. You didn’t ask him to but he just did it. One night, after finding you curled up in the corner of the nursery, crying so hard you couldn’t breathe, he made the decision himself. 

You don’t even remember how it happened — one moment you were screaming I don’t want this, I don’t want this, I don’t want this life anymore, and the next, your husband Kento was quietly helping you with packing your bags.

“Baby….” his voice cracked, his hands trembling as he folded your clothes into a suitcase. “You need help. You need real help. And I can’t—” his throat choked up. “I can’t keep watching you like this. I can’t keep coming home to you like this. I need you to get better, baby. I need you.”

You didn’t fight him.

Because deep down, you knew.

You needed help.

And when you left, Kento didn’t cry. He didn’t break down. He didn’t beg you to stay. He just kissed your forehead, buckled you into the passenger seat, and drove you there himself. The drive was silent. But when you arrived and it came time for him to leave, you felt him break.

Kento clutched your hands so hard you thought he might shatter them. His forehead pressed to yours, his voice splintering as he begged. “Please come back to me. Please get better. Please..... I don’t care how long it takes, just please don’t give up on us.”

And then he left.

And you stayed.

And the first few weeks were hell.

You fought everything. The therapy. The group sessions. The self-reflection. The constant “how are you feeling?” The exposure therapy to bond with your baby. The “you’re not alone” pep talks from strangers who did not know you.

And every single night, you thought about calling Kento. You thought about screaming into the receiver I’m done, come get me, I can’t do this anymore, please just let me go home.

But you didn’t.

Because somewhere deep, deep, deep down, you wanted to get better. And slowly you did. It wasn’t linear. Some days were good. Some days were awful. Some days you held your baby in your arms and felt nothing. Some days you sobbed so hard that you thought you’d vomit. Some days you sat in the therapy circle, refusing to speak, refusing to participate, refusing to care.

But then some days, you looked at your baby and felt something. Not love. Not joy. But something. A tinge of warmth in your chest. A pang of protectiveness. And slowly, slowly, something began to grow. And then six months later, you came home. Kento was there, waiting for you.

The second you stepped through the door, his entire body crashed into you. His arms crushed you against him, his hands cradling the back of your head, his chest heaving as he sobbed harder than you had ever seen him cry.

“Baby!” he gasped into your hair, his voice cracking. “God, I missed you….I missed you so fucking much! I thought you’d never come back to me and Keiko.”

And you sobbed too.

Because you missed him. God, you missed him.

And that night, when you walked into the nursery and you saw your baby again for the first time in months. You cried harder than you ever had in your life. Because for the first time in a long while, you wanted her. And you didn’t hate her anymore.

But… the thing was, your relationship with Kento. It was never the same. You wanted it to be. You tried so hard. Kento tried, too. He was so patient. So gentle. So loving. But something between you both felt… off.

You had a hard time touching him. Being intimate with him. You couldn’t explain why but every time Kento kissed you, really kissed you, or ran his hands down your waist, or tried to pull you into his lap, your body would freeze.

Kento noticed. But he never pushed. He never said a word. He just waited. God, he waited. But the truth was you didn’t know how to give him that part of you anymore. It wasn’t that you didn’t love him. You did. You loved him so much. You adored him. You cherished him. You owed him your life.

But every time you tried to make love to him, it felt like you were reopening the wound. It felt like you were back there again. Heavily pregnant, crying yourself to sleep, suffocating in a life you didn’t want. And you hated it. You hated that your body betrayed you. You hated that you wanted to be with Kento, but the second he kissed you, you’d tense and apologize and turn away.

One night, he finally brought it up.

It was subtle. Careful.

“Baby…..” he murmured as you both laid in bed, his fingers brushing over your bare shoulder. “Do you… not want me anymore?”

And your heart dropped. “What?”

Kento swallowed thickly, his voice small. “You never touch me anymore. You never kiss me first. You… you flinch when I touch you sometimes. And I just…. I don’t know if it’s me or if you just… don’t want me anymore.”

“No — no, Kento, I do.” you sobbed, immediately turning to clutch his face in your hands. “I love you. I love you so much. I just…..I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to….. to be close to you. I want to. I really do. I just….”

Kento shook his head. “Baby, no.” his voice splintered. “It’s not your fault. God, it’s not your fault.”

But you still hated yourself for it.

Because every time Kento looked at you with that softness, that adoration, that undying love — all you could feel was guilt. Guilt for what you put him through. Guilt for resenting him. Guilt for pushing him away. And the fullness of the intimacy, it never really came back.

You tried.You forced yourself sometimes, letting him kiss you, letting him touch you — but it felt wrong. Not because of him. But because your body wouldn’t let you have it. Your body still remembers the trauma. Kento never blamed you.

But it killed him. Because every night he’d roll over in bed, aching for you but he wouldn’t touch you. He wouldn’t dare. He knew if he tried, you’d flinch. You’d shut down. And he couldn’t handle that. So, instead all he could do was just… love you from afar.

But how has that ever been enough?

THE FIRST TIME YOU FOUND OUT ABOUT KENTO’S CHEATING, IT WAS PURELY BY ACCIDENT. It must have been years later. After the therapy, after the recovery, after you slowly started piecing your life back together. Your daughter Keiko was already walking, already talking. You had gone back to school part-time, slowly finishing your chemistry degree. 

And your intimacy with Kento? It had started to come back. Well, not fully. Not like it used to be. But you were trying your hardest with everything. You wanted to make sure that you could do it again. Your husband was waiting, and he deserved it. He deserved your love so much more than anyone. 

You started off small. You started to hold hands and then you started kissing him again. You started letting him touch you again. You even started making love again. Though it still wasn’t what it once was. You didn’t initiate it. You didn’t crave it. You just… let it happen. Because you wanted to be close to him. You wanted to fix what was broken.

Yet, Kento was still distant. Not in the obvious way, no. Kento still loved you. Fiercely. Deeply. His hands were still gentle when he brushed your hair behind your ear. His voice was still soft when he murmured his devotions to you every morning. His kisses were still warm when he kissed you goodbye.

But in his eyes, you could see his eyes so clearly. His eyes always looked starved. Like he was still reaching for something you wouldn’t give him. Like no matter how hard you tried, it would never be enough. And deep down, you knew. You would never be able to give that to him ever again.

You saw it. Every night when he rolled over, half-hard in bed, but he wouldn’t touch you. Every morning when he’d linger in the shower, his back to you, his hand clenched into a fist. Every time you let him inside you, and you could feel the heartbreak in his touch, like he was still waiting for you to love him the way you used to.

And you hated yourself for it.

But you never thought…….

You never thought he’d cheat.

Until one day,  you saw the message.

You were on his phone. It wasn’t intentional. His phone was sitting on the coffee table while he was in the shower, and it buzzed. You didn’t think much of it at first — just a glance, a mindless reflex. But then you saw the notification. A text message. From a number you didn’t recognize.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was married.”

And your blood ran cold instantly.

You froze as your pupils dilated.

Your hand shook as you unlocked his phone. His password was your anniversary, for fuck’s sake and when you opened the message thread… It was all there. The proof.

It was from months ago. At least half a year. Some random woman. The messages were fragmented. But clearly, Kento had deleted most of them. But there was enough. Enough to piece it together.

The first message was from her. “Hey, I had fun last night :) Let me know if you ever want to do it again.”

And then his response — curt. “I can’t continue on with this. I’m married. I love my wife. And….I have a daughter.”

Then her response. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. I won’t bother you again.”

And that was it. But it didn’t fucking matter. Because the implication was there. The truth was there. Kento had slept with her. He had fucked her. He had cheated on you. He decided to go on with this, swallowed by the need and by lust. 

And you just… You just sat there. Staring at the message. Feeling like the ground was ripped from beneath you. And the thing that destroyed you most was that you weren’t even surprised. Because you knew. You always knew.

You saw it in his eyes every single day. That hunger. That emptiness. That quiet, unspoken need for something you weren’t giving him. And you thought you were fixing it. You thought you were trying. But clearly… clearly it wasn’t enough. 

You didn’t confront him immediately. You didn’t scream. You didn’t cry. You didn’t throw his phone at him the second he walked out of the bathroom. You didn’t do anything. You just… sat there. And thought about it.

And the longer you thought about it, the more it made sense.

Of course he cheated.

Of course he did.

You deprived him for years. You denied him your body. You made him watch you suffer, made him sleep beside you every night knowing he couldn’t touch you, made him ache for you in ways you never fulfilled. That’s the worst part. You understood. You understood why he did it. That was the part that made you nauseous.

Because the truth was you had already broken his heart long before he ever stepped out of your marriage. You had pushed him away for so long, turned cold for so long, denied him for so long — that at some point, he just stopped waiting.

And you didn’t blame him.

You hated him. God, you hated him.

But you understood.  And you still loved him.

What a foolish game for a wallflower to grow on.

And when he finally came out of the bathroom, his hair still damp, towel slung over his shoulder, flashing you that soft, tired smile. You didn’t say a word. You just kissed him. Hard. Desperate. Like you hadn’t just been crushed to death by your heartbreak.

You grabbed his face, pulled him down, crushed your mouth to his like you were trying to rewrite history. Trying to pretend like you didn’t know what you knew. Trying to convince yourself that he was still yours. Kento froze for half a second, shocked by your sudden affection but then his hands snapped around your waist and he melted into you.

“Baby….” he gasped against your mouth, his voice needy, aching. “Fuck….. what’s gotten into you?”

You don’t say a word to him. Instead, you just clung to him. Like if you held him tight enough, like you could somehow undo the fact that he had already been touched by someone else. You let him take you that night. Hard. Rough. Desperate.

You let him fuck you like he hadn’t been able to for years, you let him do as he pleased. You let him crumble into you. His mouth on your neck, his hands fisting your hair, his voice breaking as he gasped over and over —“I love you. God, I love you.”

And you let him. Because in some fucked up way, you felt like you owed it to him, after making him suffer for so long. You spent years starving him, depriving him of life. So it was only fair that he found his comfort somewhere else.…Right?

Yet you stayed up after all that love making, alone.

No, you knew the correct answer all along.

But you were just too much of a fool to say it out loud.

AND JUST LIKE THAT, IT HAPPENS ALL OVER AGAIN. Once again, you were pregnant with your second child.  It wasn’t planned. You never wanted any more children, after all that had happened. But it happened. Yet it wasn’t that surprising. In some ways, this was the only way you could find yourself taking revenge against him. To make him just as miserable as you again.

Just weeks after you found out about his cheating, after you spent night after night letting him have you in every way he wanted, desperately trying to reclaim him, trying to erase the touch of another woman from his skin. You found yourself standing in the bathroom again, clutching a positive pregnancy test. And your stomach dropped.

Because the second those two pink lines stared back at you, you knew. The cycle was about to repeat. The suffocating weight of motherhood. The slow erosion of your identity. The same cold distance that once consumed your marriage was about to happen all over again. And the worst part was that you couldn’t even blame anyone but yourself.

Because you let him touch you again. You wanted to feel wanted, and to take revenge. You wanted to erase every part of every other woman’s palm on his. You opened your legs for him, night after night, desperate to keep him anchored to you, desperate to make him forget about the other woman and now, you were paying the price.

And when you told Kento, he broke. But not in the same way he did the first time. Not with pure, unfiltered joy. Not with a beaming smile and hopeful eyes. No, this time, Kento’s face crumpled. Yet you know that look on his face. It was just like the first time.

“Baby—” his voice cracked. “You’re….. oh my god, you’re pregnant again?”

And the heartbreak in his voice killed you. Because you knew. You knew exactly what he was thinking. He was thinking we’re not ready. He was thinking not again. He was thinking I just got her back. And now, it is happening again. Yet, you just knew in the back of his mind, he was thinking this was his punishment. This is what he gets for being the worst man on the earth.

The sleepless nights. Postpartum depression. The intimacy issues. The slow unraveling of your marriage. And you could see it,  the fear in his eyes. Yet, your husband Kento pushed it down. Because he was Kento fucking Nanami. He was a husband. A father. A provider. And regardless of how horrified he was, he refused to let you see it.

So he smiled.

Or at least, he tried to.

Yet you both knew the truth.

That smile felt like the biggest lie.

“That’s amazing, baby.” he choked, his voice strained. “Another baby. That’s… that’s incredible.”

And then he kissed you, soft and hesitant, like he was forcing himself to be happy. And you felt it. You felt the hesitation. The dread. The underlying regret. But you didn’t say anything. Because you were the one who let it happen. And just like that, the cycle began again.

Kento started working more. He said it was to provide for the baby, but you knew better. You knew it was because he was terrified. Because he was already bracing himself for what was about to come for you to spiral again, for you to shut down again, for you to stop loving him again.

You tried not to fall into the same pit you did last time. You tried to stay upbeat. You tried to keep loving Kento — loving him hard enough to make up for the fact that he once touched another woman. You tried to be a good wife. You tried to be excited about the baby.

But slowly… it just happened again.

The nausea. The fatigue. The aching loneliness when Kento came home late. The bitterness when you saw happy women on campus who still had their futures. The slow, creeping resentment every time you looked at your growing belly and thought I didn’t want this.

And worst of all, you started pulling away from Kento again. Not on purpose. But your body remembered. Your body associated pregnancy with trauma, with pain, with suffering and so it shut down. You couldn’t help it. Every time Kento touched you, your skin crawled. Every time he kissed you, you flinched. Every time he tried to make love to you, you just froze.

Kento felt it.

He felt you slipping away.

He felt your body turning cold again.

He felt the weight of your touchless nights,

He felt your silent dinners, your empty stares again.

And you knew.

You knew it was happening all over again.

But this time — it was worse.

Now you couldn’t stop thinking about her. The woman he had slept with. The one he turned to when you couldn’t love him the way he needed. And every time Kento touched you, you couldn’t help but lay there and wonder over and over again.

Did she feel warmer than you?

Did she kiss him like she wanted him?

Did she make him feel loved in a way you never could?

Kento could see it.

He could see the way you recoiled when he reached for you. He could see the distance growing between you again. He could see the guilt burning you alive. And he hated himself. Because the truth was, he never stopped loving you.

Even when he cheated. Even when he fucked another woman. It was never about love. It was never about you. It was about the ache. The desperation. The years of feeling like he was losing you and just needing something to hold onto. Now he felt like he was losing you again.

And deep down, he knew.

You were never coming back to him.

Not fully. Not the way you used to.

And Kento was slowly breaking under the weight of it.

Because no matter how much he loved you, it wasn’t enough.

It was never enough to keep you from falling out of love with him.

This is the world you gave birth to Nanami Kenshin.

LIFE GOES ON AS THEY USED TO SAY. Twenty five years, two whole decades and a half of that since you and Kento had first stepped into this chaotic life together. And somehow, despite everything, you made it.

You had raised two kids, a boy and a girl. Your Keiko and your Kenshin. They were both smart, both stubborn, both carrying that unmistakable sharpness in their eyes that mirrored your husband as much as their compassion had been garnered from your heart.

In all that agony you had come to know in your life, the pair kept you busy with almost everything they could think of. Troublemaking, homework, soccer games, dance recitals, late-night fevers. Everything about it is the messy, beautiful chaos of parenting that somehow keeps you moving forward.

And then there was Kento’s career, near thirty years as a veteran in the industry. He had gone from being the promising newcomer to a household name. Red carpets. Magazine covers. Award ceremonies where his face shone on giant screens as he walked up to accept yet another trophy. The world adored him. Respected him. Envied him.

And you were right there beside him for all of it.

The photographers always wanted you in the frame. His beautiful wife, standing gracefully at his side, draped in sleek designer dresses and glittering jewelry. They loved the way you smiled for the cameras, how your hand always rested delicately on his arm, how you played the part of the elegant, unwavering woman who had supported her husband through it all.

And for a while, you convinced yourself that this was enough. 

That this life, this carefully curated image of family perfection, was what happiness was.

You learned to smile in interviews, to talk about Kento’s dedication as a father and how proud you were of him. You learned to navigate the world of high society — dinner parties with producers, mingling with other industry wives, slipping into that role of effortless charm and poise.

But behind all the glitz and glamour, it was lonely.

With two kids to raise, and a husband to care for, there was little for you.

There was no room for you to be the woman you are.

Kento was rarely home. Always on set, always in meetings, always flying across the country for some event or another. And when he was home, he was exhausted. Conversations grew shorter. His kisses felt rushed. The intimacy you’d once fought so hard to reclaim began to fade again — not because you didn’t want him, but because he was never there.

You kept yourself busy. Raising the kids. Managing the house. 

Smiling at galas, posing for cameras, over and over again. 

Playing the part of the perfect wife in a perfect marriage.

But sometimes, when the house was dark and the kids were asleep, you’d sit alone in the living room clutching an old photograph from years ago, back when Kento’s hair was still short and his smile still reached his eyes and wonder if this was all there was left.

And maybe it wasn’t enough.

But you told yourself it had to be.

Because you had already sacrificed too much to turn back now.

So, you didn’t think of anything when it broke out in the headlines.

Kento Nanami, the beloved actor, devoted husband, father of two had allegedly been caught cheating again after nearly twenty five years of marriage.

You sat at the kitchen table, having breakfast like normal. The morning sun spilled through the windows, the smell of eggs and coffee filling the air, and the faint sound of the television humming in the background.

“Sources say the woman in question is a production assistant from his latest drama series—”

You didn’t flinch.

You didn’t look up.

You just kept stirring your coffee, like the words meant absolutely nothing to you. Kento, on the other hand, was frozen. Fork halfway to his mouth. Face pale. Chest rising and falling like he was trying not to hyperventilate. And then, slowly, ever so carefully,  he turned his head and looked at you.

“…Are you alright?” His voice cracked.

And that’s when you smiled.

You smiled, soft and easy. Like none of it mattered. Like you weren’t currently listening to the entire nation gossip about your husband’s infidelity. Like you weren’t being branded the foolish, pathetic wife who stayed after her husband cheated twice. Like you weren’t dying inside.

And with a voice far too calm, you said, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kento’s entire face crumpled.

Because he knew.

He fucking knew.

That wasn’t real. That smile. 

That sweetness. That unbothered facade.

It was performative.

It was the same smile you gave him after your first child was born, when you were drowning in postpartum depression but still told him “I’m fine” over and over again.

It was the same smile you gave him one hundred times when he told you he was going to be late at home tonight, when he didn’t have to be. 

And now, now you are doing it all over again. Feigning nonchalance. Feigning strength. Feigning normalcy. And it destroyed him to bits beyond what he could stand.

“…Baby.” his voice cracked, his fork clattering against his plate. “You don’t have to…. I mean, we can talk about it if you want. I’ll….I’ll explain everything. I swear to god, it’s not what they’re saying—”

You laughed so heartily.

A soft, almost amused laugh.

And you took a sip of your coffee, still smiling. “I don’t need you to explain anything, Kento.”

His stomach dropped. “Wh–what?”

You met his gaze and your smile never wavered. “It’s not the first time, is it?”

And fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

Kento’s mouth fell open. “Baby….no. It’s not like that….I swear I—”

“It’s alright.” You cut him off smoothly. Calmly. Almost too calmly. “Really. I don’t want an explanation.”

Kento visibly flinched. His heart was hammering so loud he swore you could hear it. “…You don’t?”

You shook your head, taking another bite of your eggs. “No. I’m just glad you had fun.”

And Kento lost it. 

“Baby….” His voice cracked violently, his chair scraping against the floor as he immediately dropped to his knees beside you, clutching your thigh like his life depended on it. “Don’t do this. Don’t shut me out again. Please, baby. Please yell at me. Cry. Scream. Break things. Just…. don’t act like you don’t care. Please. Please, baby, I know you care—”

You laughed again.

But this time — it was hollow.

“I don’t.” you said plainly, popping a piece of toast into your mouth.

And that broke Kento completely, you were sure.

“No, no, that’s not true.” his voice shattered, his grip on your thigh desperate. “You love me. I know you do. You still love me. Please don’t….don’t act like you don’t….. I’ll fix it, baby. I swear to god, I’ll fix it, I’ll—”

“Fix it?” you echoed, your voice soft. Curious. “Like you did the first time?”

Kento fucking froze. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Because you never talked about it. Ever. After his first affair, you never once brought it up. You forgave him in the silence. Or at least, you pretended to. You shoved it down, pretended it never happened, and let Kento crawl back into your arms without consequence.

Now you were smiling at him like he was nothing more than a pitiful stranger. “Your ears work fine, don’t they?”

“…I don’t know what to say.” he choked. His hands were shaking. His throat constricted. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please….please just tell me what to do. I’ll fix it. I’ll do anything. Just please don’t—”

“Don’t what?” you asked softly, tilting your head.

The look in your eyes killed him.

“Don’t leave you?” you continued, your voice sickly sweet. “Don’t abandon you like you abandoned me when I needed you the most? Don’t make you feel like I loved someone else the way you made me feel for years?”

Tears burned his eyes. “Baby, please—”

“It’s fine, Kento.” You smiled again. “Really. I’m not mad.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” You sipped your coffee. “I’m not anything.”

And Kento completely unraveled.

Because he could see it.

The way you looked at him now. Like he was just a man. Not your husband. Not your Kento. Not the love of your life. Just a man who happened to share your bed, your house, and your children. And it killed him.

“Do you still love me?” he finally choked out, his voice so small.

And you froze.

Just for a second.

But then you smiled again. 

Just as soft, sweet, cold as before.

“Of course, I do.”

And that was the sick part, wasn’t it?

You did. You still loved him. You loved him with your entire fucking soul. You loved him so much that it hurt. You loved him and you hated him with equal intensity. It was two sides of the same coin and it was tearing you apart.

And yet even if you do love him, you know what should be.

Kento didn’t deserve that love anymore.

And even if you have to act like you don’t love him, so be it.

Let him suffer the amount of suffering you had over that time.

So you kissed his forehead, brushed his hair back, and whispered. “You should finish your breakfast. You have work later.”

And then you stood up from your seat, cigarette on your lips.

And left him sobbing on the kitchen floor, lamenting.

You had errands left to run, after all.

A wife has too much to do, you know?

[mxdotpng]

thinking about a game swap. for zesteria/berseria

[hellobykittys]

𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 ✦ 𝐋𝐇⁴⁴

SUMMARY: Upon discovering you’re pregnant with your boyfriend’s child, you find yourself spiraling into a wave of insecurities, fearing his potential negative reaction and the impact it could have on your relationship. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. PAIRING: Lewis Hamilton x Reader! Girlfriend. WARNING: Established relationship; mild angst; unplanned pregnancy. WC: 2.8k

MASTERLIST | THE (IM)PERFECT PLAN SERIE

It was the second time that day you found yourself leaning over the toilet, your stomach churning relentlessly. Breakfast and the light snack you’d had earlier—both meant to be simple—had already made their way there, and with each passing moment, your suspicions grew harder to ignore. Yet, you stubbornly refused to acknowledge what was right in front of you.

Two weeks had passed since your period was supposed to start, something completely out of the ordinary for you. Your cycle was always regular. In its place came the nausea and constant vomiting.

You didn’t know what to do. The thought of taking a test was too terrifying. It felt easier to pretend this was just a passing illness. After all, how could you possibly be pregnant? You and Lewis were always careful, taking every precaution.

“You need to take a test,” your friend Anne said as she held your hair back, preventing the mess from worsening.

“Anne, I don’t know if I want to know the answer.” You spoke between breaths, rising to rinse your mouth at the sink.

“Eventually, you’ll have to face it,” she said gently, her hand brushing over your back in a gesture of comfort. “If it’s true, you’re going to have to tell him.”

“I don’t even know if he wants to be with me, let alone a child. He’s going to hate this news.” Your tired, worried eyes stared back at you in the mirror. “I don’t know what to do.”

“He won’t hate it. He loves you, and I’m sure he’ll love having a child with you,” Anne said, trying to ease your anxiety. “Y/N, don’t believe what people say online. They just want to bring you down.”

“You don’t understand.” You turned to her, your eyes full of doubt. “We’ve never talked about it—about starting a family. Whenever the subject comes up, he changes it. At first, I thought it was because we’d only been together a short while, but now… I think he genuinely doesn’t want anything more serious.”

“But you’ve been together for two years! How could he not want something more serious?”

“He was with Nicole for seven years, and that wasn’t enough for him to marry her.” You lowered your head, your chest tightening. “Deep down, I think the media’s right. He probably just wants to stay free until the last day of his life. His whole world revolves around Formula 1. Family isn’t part of his plans. Only the eighth title matters.”

You took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. The weight of your words felt unbearable, but you couldn’t stop thinking them. The fear that this was all a mistake, that Lewis simply wasn’t ready for more, consumed you.

Anne noticed your distress and stepped closer, her hand resting on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. “I know it seems hard right now, but you can’t make these decisions on your own. You have to talk to him. He deserves to know, and you deserve to hear what he has to say.”

You turned to face her, your expression reflecting the emotional storm you were caught in. “And if he doesn’t want it? If he tells me he’s not ready, that what we have isn’t enough? What am I supposed to do with this baby? With this… life?”

“Then you’ll deal with it in your own way. This isn’t about what he wants—it’s about what you want, what you need. He may be the person you love, but don’t forget who you are and what you deserve.”

Anne’s words echoed in your mind, but the truth still felt distant, shrouded in uncertainty. It felt like you were standing at a crossroads with your life taking a direction you’d never planned for. Lewis, with his fast-paced existence of racing, titles, and adrenaline, seemed worlds apart from your quiet longing for stability—perhaps even a family. Something you weren’t even sure he shared.

In the end, you knew you couldn’t avoid reality any longer. The test needed to be done. Procrastination wasn’t an option anymore. The fear was overwhelming, but the uncertainty hurt worse. And, above all, the result would only be the beginning. The real challenge would be telling Lewis.

“Will you do this with me?” Your voice came out softer than expected, almost a whisper filled with vulnerability. You looked at Anne, searching her expression for a strength you felt you’d lost. “I mean, will you buy the test and wait for the result with me?”

Anne smiled reassuringly, taking your hand in hers with a firm grip. “Of course. And if you prefer, we can do this at my apartment. No rush, no pressure.”

You shook your head in refusal. “I think it’s better to do it here. He’s not coming back today… probably not until tomorrow night. Maybe even later.” The emptiness of the house felt less oppressive when you spoke aloud, but the apprehension was still palpable. “I just need the courage to go to the pharmacy.”

Anne squeezed your hand, her eyes full of understanding. “You don’t have to do this alone. Let’s go together. Let’s get this over with.”

The trip to the pharmacy was quick, but each step felt like a monumental challenge. The way back home seemed even longer, with the weight of the small package in your bag growing heavier by the second. Back at the apartment, you locked yourself in the bathroom while Anne waited outside, offering encouraging words that barely penetrated the storm in your mind.

You held the test in trembling hands, your eyes scanning the instructions like they were an impossible puzzle. Time seemed to freeze as you waited for the result, the silence broken only by the relentless pounding of your heart.

When you finally looked at the small display, reality crashed over you like a tidal wave. Positive.

Your breath caught in your throat, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at the lines that confirmed what you already suspected. Silent tears began to stream down your face as a flood of emotions—fear, anguish, and an inexplicable love for the new life now connected to you—washed over you.

“Well?” Anne’s soft, hesitant voice called from the other side.

You opened the door, holding the test in your trembling hand. Anne’s expression softened at the sight of your tears. She said nothing, simply pulling you into a tight embrace.

“What now?” you asked quietly, your voice laden with uncertainty.

Anne pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her expression calm but firm. “Now you take a deep breath, Y/N. Then, you tell him. No matter the fear, no matter the doubts. He deserves to know, and you deserve to be heard.”

You nodded slowly, but the lump in your throat remained. Her words were logical, exactly what you needed to hear, but the fear still loomed, beating loudly in your chest. How would you tell Lewis? How would you find the words that would change both your lives forever?

“Anne…” Your voice came out shaky, barely a whisper, as you wrapped your arms around her tightly, searching for any fragment of comfort. “I’m so scared. What if he… what if he doesn’t want this baby?”

Anne sighed, her hand gently rubbing your back with patience. “Y/N, even if he doesn’t, which I honestly find hard to believe, you’ll move forward. You’re stronger than you think.” She pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, her gaze full of conviction. “If you want to have this baby, that’s all that matters. We’ll take care of it. I won’t leave you alone, ever.”

You closed your eyes, trying to absorb her words, but the weight of the situation still felt unbearable. “But what if he leaves me, Anne? What if he thinks this was a mistake? That I was careless?”

Anne cupped your face with both hands, forcing you to look at her. “He loves you. And even if the idea scares him at first, he’s a good man, Y/N. But more than anything, you need to remember that his love isn’t the only thing that matters here. What do you feel? What do you want? That matters, too.”

Her question hung in the air, echoing in your mind as you tried to find an answer. Deep down, you knew what you wanted. You loved Lewis with all your heart, and despite the fear consuming you, you already felt an inexplicable love for the life growing inside you. But bridging those two feelings felt impossible.

As you stared at the positive test sitting on the bedside table, your heart pounded relentlessly, racing with uncertainty. That tiny object seemed to carry the weight of all your doubts and fears. You knew you couldn’t put off talking to Lewis forever, but the thought of confronting him was paralyzing. Each passing second only tightened the knot in your throat.

He was supposed to return the following morning, giving you one night to organize your thoughts, find the right words, and somehow gather the courage that felt so far away. But now, as the reality began to settle in, you decided to push it aside for a while. You needed to distract yourself, to focus on taking care of yourself—and the baby you now carried.

In the kitchen, you started preparing something simple to eat. The thought of being responsible for another life made every small action feel significant. You couldn’t ignore your health or choices anymore. Everything you did was for two now. And though the anxiety still throbbed in your mind, there was a small, strange comfort in that realization.

You were slicing fruit when the sound of the front door opening suddenly broke the silence of the house. Your heart nearly stopped for a moment. He wasn’t supposed to be back until the next morning.

“Y/N?” Lewis’s voice echoed from the living room, heavy with exhaustion and surprise.

You turned to see him standing in the hallway, still holding his travel bag. He was dressed casually in a black jacket and his signature travel cap. His eyes locked on you, then shifted to the plate of fruit on the counter before softening into a smile.

“I decided to come back early. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He approached, leaving the bag by the wall to pull you into a warm hug. The heat of his body against yours brought immediate comfort—but also a new weight.

You weren’t ready. Not yet. But the moment seemed to have chosen him—or fate had.

“Are you okay?” Lewis asked, pulling back just enough to study your face. His expression was laced with concern.

“I’m… I’m fine. Just tired.” Your voice came out low, but you knew he would sense something was off. Lewis always did.

His brows furrowed slightly as he tilted his head, his gaze probing. “You sure? You seem a little distant.”

With him standing there, just a few steps away, the idea of telling him felt even more daunting. Fear wrapped itself around your chest, squeezing tighter and tighter. Fear that the news could change everything between you, fear that the love you shared wouldn’t be enough to face what was coming. So, for at least one more night, you decided to delay. Tomorrow would be the right time. Tonight, you just wanted to savor your last moment of peace with him—if everything changed afterward.

But the memory of the test sitting on the bedside table sent a fresh wave of panic through you. If Lewis went into the bedroom now, he’d see it. There was no way to hide it in time.

“Nothing’s wrong, love.” You forced a smile, leaning up to kiss him, his lips still warm from the chill outside. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll take your bag and be right back, okay?”

Before you could grab his bag, Lewis held onto it firmly, shaking his head.

“You don’t need to do that. I can carry my own bag.” He smiled, the kind of smile that always made your heart flutter, and slung the strap back over his shoulder. “I’ll shower and then we can pick a movie, yeah?”

“No, seriously, let me.” You insisted, your voice slightly too quick. “You must be exhausted. Just relax, I’ll handle it.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing your unease, but didn’t argue further. “Y/N, I’m not made of glass. I can carry my own luggage.”

Without another word, you followed him to the bedroom, your heart racing with every step. Lewis placed his bag by the wardrobe but lingered, his gaze drifting back to you.

“You’re acting weird,” he commented with a small smile, though he didn’t press further. “I’ll take a quick shower and be back. Pick us a good movie.”

As soon as he entered the bathroom and the door closed, you let out the breath you had been holding and quickly made your way to the bedside table. With swift movements, you grabbed the test and hid it in the deepest drawer, pushing it down beneath a few papers. When you finished, the relief was immediate, but brief.

You left the room and returned to the kitchen, trying to distract yourself with anything else. You prepared a bowl of fruit and placed it on the counter, but your mind couldn’t help but drift back to the inevitable moment that was coming.

Minutes later, sensing something was off with Lewis’s delay, you decided to return to the bedroom. When you opened the door, your heart nearly stopped at the sight before you. Lewis was sitting on the bed, his eyes fixed on the pregnancy test he was holding in his hand.

“Lewis…” your voice came out weak, barely a whisper.

He looked up, and for a moment, you couldn’t read his expression. It wasn’t anger, but it wasn’t relief either. It was something in between—confusion, perhaps.

“How long have you known?” he asked, his voice low but firm.

The question hit you like a punch. “What? Lewis, I—”

“Were you hiding this from me?” He stood up, his brow furrowed in a mix of frustration and hurt. “Did you think you could handle this alone?”

“I didn’t… I just found out!” you retorted, feeling your eyes well up. “I didn’t even have time to think, to process. I was going to tell you, Lewis!”

But he didn’t seem to hear you. He ran his hands through his hair, clearly trying to organize his thoughts.

“I thought we were a couple, Y/N. That we trusted each other.”

Those words hit you cruelly, a blow to your vulnerability. “Lewis, I wasn’t hiding anything! I just… I didn’t have the courage to take the test until today. I needed a moment. A second to process what was happening to me.”

He paused, studying your face, his dark eyes softening as his anger dissolved into understanding. Finally, he shook his head, the weight of the tension lifting from his shoulders.

“When were you planning on telling me?” he asked, his voice quieter, but still firm.

“I was going to tell you tomorrow,” you rushed to explain, almost pleading for him to believe you. “I just… I didn’t know how to do it. Lewis, please, believe me.”

His expression changed completely. Without saying another word, he walked over and pulled you into a tight hug. The warmth of his body was comforting, but what struck you the most was the soft sound of a sob. He was crying.

“You should’ve told me as soon as you suspected,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I wanted to be here with you when you took the test.”

“Are… are you happy?” you asked hesitantly, the words coming out in a whisper full of doubt.

He pulled back slightly, cradling your face in his big, warm hands. A smile broke through the tears streaming down his face.

“Of course I’m happy, my love.” His voice was low, but full of conviction. “This baby is a piece of our love. How could I not be happy?”

You collapsed into his arms, your head resting on his strong chest as tears flowed freely down your face. The relief and love you felt in that moment were overwhelming.

“You have no idea how scared I was,” you confessed through sobs. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t want this baby… that you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

He held you even tighter, impossibly so, and kissed the top of your head, lingering in the gesture.

“I would never do that, Y/N. Never.” He sighed, his voice thick with emotion. “You mean everything to me. And now, we’re going to be a family. I just wish I’d been there with you from the start.”

His words were a balm, soothing the storms that had built in your heart over the past few weeks.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, still hidden against his chest.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he replied, gently stroking your hair. “We’re both learning. But now that I know… I promise you’ll never face any of this alone again.”

You stayed like that for long minutes, not needing any more words. The moment was just for the two of you, and nothing seemed more important than the future you were beginning to build together.

[uracutieraka]

When did you get pretty?

Keigo x Younger!f!reader

Pt.1//Pt.2

slight smut warning, nothing too serious.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

synopsis: you are a UA graduate who just turned 19. Youve known Hawks since he was 20. After 2 years, youre starting to feel differently about the older boy who always seems to conveniently be around you. ◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

”You know that I dont think your ideas are stupid!” “Well then how come my fifth idea has been rejected this year!”

youre going back and forth with your boss, well friend who happens to be your boss, Hawks. youve been at his hero agency since you were 17, when he personally invited you to do a work study under him, only to find out he really just wanted to slack off all day and use you for your ideas.

“Keigo, come on dude. You can totally just tell them to listen to me and to trust me! Honestly i dont understand why you dont come to these pitch meetings with me, you know they wont listen to me!”

“Y/n, i cant go because i dont want to!” “Gah you are such a smartass, honestly im not doing this anymore!”

you get up from your seat across from the witty blond infront of you, sending a pointed and stern look his way.

You had just had yet another unsuccessful meeting with his investors, they didnt trust a 19 year old girl could come up with actually successful business plans. Keigo knew this, but he didnt really care.

“What? Youre not quitting on me, are you?” His eyes grew worried as well as the rest of his face. With an obvious sigh you tell him no. “Im relieved. I love you too much to lose you!”

a strong heat spreads across your body, starting in your cheeks. You werent unfamiliar with the cutesy words he spoke, but that doesnt mean they dont affect you. In fact, they more than affect you. Youve been harboring a dark, dark secret for over 2 years now. ever since you were 16 you had the biggest crush on pro hero Hawks. You even had posters in your room as if he were a member from some boyband. He was only a few years older than you too, so it wasnt unreasonable to like him. “Yeah yeah, i know im so perfect and amazing, who wouldnt?” You shoot a witty and sly smile his way. You normally just counter act any romantic feelings and thoughts with a sassy remark.

“Yeah, i know, i know,” he trails off, looking back up to you he opens his mouth again “But on that topic! Theres this hero-party-but actually work-gala happening tomorrow and i figured it would be a good opportunity for you to mingle with the rest of the pro hero world so i put you down as my plus one.”

You roll your eyes at the lack of respect for your own personal schedule. “Were you even going to check that i didnt have anything going on?” You grumbled out to him. “Uhm, no because i know you dont. You never do. Im your only friend really.” “Well first off, youre not my only friend, second off, i did have plans this weekend but no dont worry, ill cancel them for you, again.” “Again?” The winged man quickly looks at you. “Yeah this is like the fourth time I’ve cancelled on my friend” you already had your phone out typing away on your keyboard. “Wait really? Im so sorry, you dont have to come!” Hes giving you sad eyes, you know he doesnt really mean that. with another loud sigh and eye roll you look at him, “Keigo, its fine, id much rather spend a weekend with you meeting pros than go shopping and see some lame ass movie, if i had an issue id tell you.”

keigo hadnt even thought about the possibility that you still had a life outside of the hero agency, or him really, the more he thought about it, he realized there probably hadnt been a full 24 hours where you hadnt been with him since you graduated almost a year ago.

He was in a fight? You were there helping him. He needed help with extra paperwork? You were there, at the opposite side of his desk doing paperwork with him silently. Hes in the shower? You’re in the bathroom chatting his ear off about some stupid internet drama. He needs help grocery shopping? You’re writing the list for him. Anything he needs, you do. He didnt really take time to appreciate you at all now that he thinks about it.

“Listen, i know you do a lot for me, and i just wanted to say thank you.” Hes looking away from you now with a hand on the back of his neck, his whole demeanor has changed.

“Dude, honestly its fine, you dont have to thank me, i like being with you. Honestly you are my best friend.” You also were looking away from him, down at the boots for your hero costume.

“Youre mine too.” you look up to see him now giving you a soft smile.

“So about this, what did you say it was?” “gala”

“yeah yeah, what do i wear?” “i dont know something nice? You know its a fancy event, suit n tie for me type thing.” “ah i see, i see, uhm ok yeah thatll work” youre in your head mumbling to yourself about it at this point. “Okay….” He drags out the word obviously to drag you back into the present. “Ok well im going home now!” You hurriedly grab your bags and make a break for it, if you stay any longer you wont be able to get home to clean up and get ready for tomorrow.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

its 6:30 on the dot when you get a call.

“yello?” You say quickly

“hey, im uh, here.” A quiet voice says. “You said 7! What the hell keigo!?!” “yeah yeah just let me up”

You buzz him up to your small, but homey, apartment.

as you hear him knock on your front door you slide your dress up your body holding onto the top as it has yet to be zipped.

You answer the door to see your best friend standing there in a very nice, expensive looking suit. He looked great.

“hey! Come in, its small but it does what its supposed to do!” You say motioning him inside with your free arm.

Keigo realized he had never been to your place, yet you were constantly at his. Like constantly. Honestly he had never even thought about you having your own. You always slept on his couch. He didnt mind though. It was nice not feeling so alone all the time. He liked having you in his life, you treated him normally.

his eyes did a scan over your place

“its cute. Its super you.” He said now looking back at you. He had never seen you soooo… done up? You were honestly such a different person outside of your hero costume, or even your messy buns and large baggy clothes that you always wore at his place. (They had a found a home in a spare drawer in his dresser.)

“Anyways theres only a few things i have left then I’ll be ready,” you had broken the moment of silence, and his intense stare on you. “Can you help me zip this? I thought i could get it on my own but i cant.” you now had your back turned towards him, shutting the door as you did. He hitched his breath, he hadnt ever seen you like this, you were so… calm? And collected? You always seemed so stressed, but he now came to the conclusion that was because of work and his lack of energy for said job.

“sure, yeah.” He said as he stepped towards you to zip your dress. He took you in, in all your glory. You looked so different than normal. Your hair was curled to one side, makeup was light but had the perfect amount of shine, and your dress, well your body looked stunning. How come he had never noticed you like this before?

Your hero costume was tip-toeing the line of scandalous, he knew because he had seen the headlines when he first debuted you at his agency, but he honestly didnt care because he didnt think it really mattered.

But now, here you are in a strapless dress, with a dropped neckline, the fabric is hugging your waist and hips perfectly, the color made your eyes pop and was perfect on you. You looked elegant. So grown up compared to the restless 17 year old he first met.

You had thought the same about him the past few years, he had been turning out to be quite a decent man, he was no longer the hot-shot teen hero you once fangirled over, but the handsome and charismatic man you had grown to be friends with.

turning back towards him you dismissed yourself to finish getting ready in your bathroom.

He now had time to look around your tiny apartment. He walked around looking at all your knick-nacks in the living room until he caught a glimpse of your bedroom door open roughly 10 feet away from where he was standing.

he shouldnt. hes going to anyways.

he made his way to the door peeking inside, it was what he expected, a few clothes scattered on your floor but other than that it was clean. he was scanning your walls when he noticed a very familiar, yet very haunting photo on your wall.

it was a poster he did when he was 17 and freshly debuted in the prohero world. How long had you had this? Have you even been a fan of him for that long?

his thoughts rushed around his head for a brief moment until a devious one creeped up in his head.

you were putting your earrings in, finishing up the last few little things you needed before leaving, when you caught a glimpse of the red wings you became so familiar with at the doorway. You looked over to see Keigo standing there with a mischievous look on his face.

“Uhm, do you need something?” You raised a brow at him. “How long have you loved me? Be honest? Was it when i did my first magazine shoot for that teen magazine?” oh no. He did not seriously look in your room. of course he did. You know him. “DID YOU SERIOUSLY LOOK IN MY ROOM WHAT ARE YOU A PERVERT?”

His face dropped. Oh my god was he really a pervert? “NO I SWEAR, YOUR DOOR WAS OPEN AND I WAS JUST CURIOUS!” “Ugh you are such a brat Keigo! Seriously! Why would you go snooping in a 19 year old girls room! Youre such a douche!” Hes known you long enough to know youre messing with him but you are obviously a bit upset.

“Look, i couldnt help myself i just peeked in and saw that poster! Its cute that you have that is all!” “Honestly, why do you think i was so excited to join your agency? I was obviously a fan.” Another smirk graces his face. “You said ‘was’ sooo are you still or now you know me and think im the worst?” you give him a dirty look and shove past him with a sarcastic huff towards your bedroom. “The ladder!” You sass out to him. He chuckles and makes his way back towards your living room.

A few moments later you emerge from your room and motion for him to head out the front.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

Its been a long night, youve talked to so many people youve lost track, youre a bit more than tipsy from stealing the ends of keigos drinks all night.

Keigos drunk and has been consistently introducing you to new people as “The future hottest hero of the year!” Or “His right hand lady, y/n”

You two have finally found a moment of peace as you had forced him to sit down a table towards the back of the venue. You lean over to him resting your hand on his knee for balance. “Keigo,” he leans his head towards you and give you a ‘hum’ of acknowledgment, “Im ready to go home.” This brings the man to fully look at you. “Yeah, ok, me too.”

Hes looking at you in the dim lighting of the room, how could he not have ever noticed the way your eyes glitter all the time? Or the softness of your features, they look so good together. He fumbled with his phone and called for his car so you guys could leave.

“Alright lets get going.” He says, standing up wobbling a bit before reaching a hand out to you. You grab it and also stumble a bit when you stand up. before you walk away you lean up to him and whisper in his ear,

“Ive been stealing a bit of your drinks tonight…dont be mad at me, s’wear didnt mean to get like this…” your words are ever so slightly slurred together.

He looks at you and whispers back

“Its ok, i know you have.” a moment of silence goes by before you both start giggling about the situation. after a moment of giggling you decided it was time to make your way down to the car. Pulling the blond behind you, you finally make your exit.

❝ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

In the car the driver asks Keigo where to go, he looks at you and you look at him and shrug.

“Back to y/n’s place i think. Ill stay there tonight so you can het home finally!” He gives the driver a big close eyed smile. “Of course sir.” and with that you make your way back to your tiny apartment.”

★。＼｜／。★

Youre finally back in your own place after a few minutes of struggling with your keys at the door, it didnt help you had Keigo standing over your shoulder making jokes causing you guys to laugh every 20 seconds.

“UGH! FINALLY!” You say kicking off your heels and locking your front door. “Did you not have fun or something?” Keigo asks, hes already shed his coat and loosened his tie from around his neck. Damn did he look good.

You look back up at him and can feel the blush creep up your face. “Yeah, I did, i like being your plus one, we should do it more often.” You blurt out, not really realizing what you said for a quick beat. “I mean like you know, youre my best friend and were always together, so nothing weird, haha….” that was not confident of you at all. Way to go y/n.

Hes staring at you, your hair is slightly messy, lips are plumped up from the alcohol, makeup is messy, and keigo feels like a predator almost. a desire is stirring inside him. this is bad. Very very bad. Keigos staring at you. Its different than any stare youve felt before from anyone. You feel something stirring inside you. Something bad, very very bad.

“Keigo, uhm look, I like you. And have for a while.” Words are falling out of your mouth faster than you can stop them.

“Y/n, i dont know, what will people think? Youre my trainee.” Hes giving you a serious look, youve never seen him more serious than this (other than when youre fighting villains of course).

you deflate in on yourself and your heart drops. what did you just do.

“but…,” he speaks again “When have i ever cared what people think.”

A few moments go by and suddenly youre grabbing his face and pulling him into yours.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Your dress is long gone, lost somewhere in your apartment, youll worry about it tomorrow, keigos clothes are littering your floor, mixing with the ones that have already been there of yours. your on his lap on your bed kissing him.

how did you get here?

oh yeah, you were kissing him in the living room then he was pulling your dress off and you were pulling him towards your room. And now youre here.

you stop and look at him, holding his face. “Do you want this? Or are you drunk?” Youre looking into his eyes and studying deeply, you need to know before you make your next move.

“Yes, please, ive never wanted anything more than this right now.” Hes shaking his head, hes begging for you.

“yeah me too.,” youre back to kissing him this time moving your hips since hes perched his hands on them and begun moving you.

theres 2 layers between the two of you. Your underwear, and his. this is it. Everything youve ever wanted is happening right now. The Hawks, is sitting under you begging to have you.

A call suddenly breaks the heavy silence of the room. you know that ringtone. Its the ‘emergency’ ringtone you suggested he set so he never missed one.

you quickly get up snatching his phone out of his pocket and handing it to him.

a few minutes go by with his occasional ‘mhms’

eventually he ends the call. “Yeah, just call me if you need back up.” He turns back at you and begins apologizing, over and over.

Youre telling him its ok and you understand. That youre just happy he doesnt have to go yet.

“Im just happy youre still here Keigo.” “Yeah but i totally just ruined the vibe.” “I dont care, just wanna hangout with you.” “ok, promise youre not mad?” “Yes, i promise im not mad.”

Keigo then hands you a shirt off your floor and puts his button up on over his shoulders, hes too lazy to button it.

“So uh, wanna order a pizza? That food earlier sucked.” He says pointing his thumb back behind him. “yeah, im down.” You say getting up to grab your phone.

pt 2

[seokmn]

YOUR EXISTENCE

pairing: husband!mingyu x gn!reader

wc: 0.5k words

it was supposed to be another ordinary day. mingyu would get back from work with a tired expression, but hed still have a smile on his face, immediately walking towards you and peppering you with kisses while hugging you and telling you how much he missed you throughout the day.

however, this time was different. mingyu opened the front door with a devastated look on his face, which made your smile instantly drop when you turned around to look at him. even on his worst days of work he would never come back with such a bad facial expression. he didn’t greet you with a smile or a soft voice, just with a somber hum

“hey.. food’s ready, gyu” you said softly, but he just nodded and took a seat on the dinner table, not minding to look at your direction. hes never like that, so you were dead worried, was someone being mean to him at work? did his boss shouted at him?

the dinner was silent, you kept glancing at him while he still didnt even bother to look at you. it was almost like he was ashamed, or maybe pissed at you. the lack of information was killing you.

“okay,” you released the cutlery on your plate, “what is wrong? who do i need to kill?”

“me.” he said staring at his almost untouched plate.

“you? why? gyu.. what happened, love?” you rechead his hand and rubbed your thumb against it, making him start to hold back his tears, “come on, talk to me, please”

mingyu took a deep breath before finally looking at you, he then looked at your hands, your hand holding his in a gentle yet firm way, “i got fired,” he sighed and leaned back on the chair, his hands running through his hair in a frustrated way, “i dont know what to do now”

you looked at him with a empathetic look, “your boss is dumb. he just lost the best employee he had in that entire company” you took his hands once again, “its going to be fine”

mingyu shook his head in denial, it was so hard seeing him being pessimistic because he would always be the one to think in a positive way. at this point, tears were already coming out of his eyes while he looked at you with such a depressing expression, “i feel like i dont have reasons to exist anymore”

you immediately placed a hunk of meat in his mouth to shut him up, “im the reason of your existence and youre the reason of mine. this is not the end of the world because you’re such a hardworking person and you gave me. youll soon find another job because you’re good”

“thank you, love” he said while wiping away his tears, “i guess youre right, its not the end of the world. ill find another job”

“good, thats the spirit! now dont you ever say something like once again or else it will be the end of my world and i wont know what to do” he chuckled hearing your response, “got it.. i love you, yn”

you smiled, “i love you more, gyu”

[etherealkissed88]

assume it done now, not in the future . • °

never wait or forget to assume u are ALREADY the desired version of urself in the NOW. dont think/assume: "ill buy this AFTER i manifest $1000" or "they would be crushing on me WHEN i get my glow up".

dont forget that the goal is to assume it NOW.

there is only the present and your job is to always claim your desire as done in the NOW.

DO NOT think/visualize from (embody/assume) the state of “waiting” for it!

DO NOT identify w the version of you who is not already experiencing it!

when you think about a desire, immediately see the world/think as the one who has it already. if not, (if you immediately think of it as the person who is waiting for it), dont stress, just shift into the state/embody the one who has it NOW. you manifest who you choose to be so thoughts never matter because they are part of the 3d, therefore they are always neutral. there is only the present so if you thought “im waiting until i get my sp to do this” 5 seconds ago, it doesnt matter because your job is to be the one who has it NOW. if you think about that thought you had 5 seconds ago, you are thinking about it in the NOW. there is only the NOW/the PRESENT. focus on getting into the state of having it already in the present moment. dont focus on what you thought of / assumed in the “past” because it has no effect on you unless you assume it does.

you are not making a mental list of things you want to manifest for the future, you are checking off the list the MOMENT you make the list!

do not be in the state of waiting for it. waiting for what when the only source of power is you? fulfill yourself the moment you want it. now you no longer want it, now you have/are it!

YOU DESIRE YOUR IDEAL BODY (as an example)

you go to the store and assume “when i get my ideal body, i will fit in all these clothes”

you stop and realize that by accepting / identifying with this assumption, you are voluntary being in the state of not having your ideal body yet and therefore, waiting for it.

since youre educated on the law now, you know that your job is to assume/know its done now! so you decide not to accept that previous assumption that implied youre waiting. you instead decide to shift into the mindset of person who already has their desired body.

what would they think? what would they do? how would they act? how would people treat them? how would they see the world? BE that person in IMAGINATION. visualize, affirm, do inner convos, use whatever technique you want to experience it in imagination. do it to satisfy yourself without worrying about the 3d. remove the 3d from the equation and focus on feeling good as you experience having your desire.

you imagine doing exactly what you wanted: buying pretty clothes from the store because you already have your desired body; feeling confident and free in your body and having fun trying out clothes and paying for them. once you are satisfied from imagining yourself confidently buying your perfect clothes to match your perfect body, you walk out of the store satisfied because you know you already have your desired body since you just experienced it and fulfilled yourself.

you didnt need to buy clothes in the 3d, you didnt need to physically walk in the store with confidence. you dont need to take any action in the 3d. you just need to know its done and fulfilled in imagination. once you are fulfilled, you will notice that nothing in the 3d matters because you really do feel that its done.

later on, you continue to embody the version of you who has that desired body. you imagine walking in school with those pretty clothes on your perfect body while your friends compliment you; this makes you feel confident in your body. you continue to be satisfied with this feeling, with this knowing.

make it yours instantly. assume it done NOW! manifestation is not a process, its a choice. you always choose to BE some version of you in the now. if you are waiting, its simply because you are being the version of you who is waiting. notice how you are always BEING a version of you? so assume it NOW, not in the future. there is no time like the PRESENT.

kisses, jani𖥔

[glitterspaghettiketchup]

MY VERY ELABORATE THOUGHTS ON [SPOILER COLD CHARACTER]:

So in my other post i said "i hate Noelle's mom" and barely elaborated. So here's the elaboration.

i don't think it's as simple as that. I think Carol is an effective antagonist, and she only has a total of a single minute of screentime. She's an incredibly dislikable character, who has every single chance of being expanded upon and rendered more interesting that way.

i'll adress it now: this is most likely going to be THE thing the fandom hates her for (and on some level already disliked her for). Her parenting of Noelle.

...I don't think this is healthy.

Yeah, based on the one scene AND prior context it's not that much of a stretch to say that she's at best, an overly strict mother who's emotional distance since the death of her oldest and illness of her spouse is getting in the way of having any kind of healthy relationship with her youngest, and is using work as a way to avoid adressing those issues.

At worst, she's a woman with abusive tendencies who's lost the one check she had in her personal life and is now free to do whatever she wants, while she's surrounded herself with people who will enable her actions. I don't think this is the case! At least not fully! We just... Can't definitively know unless we see more of her. (we also can't know if she was always like this, but based on a Chapter 2 scene she might've already been strict before Dess disapeared. More on this later)

Granted, this isn't the best first impression of her, but the way the atmosphere shifts the second she's present, how intimidated she makes Noelle, the way she apologises for the scene TO KRIS later and the context from Chapter 2 especially... Yeah i don't think Carol's a great parent!

TO BE PERFECTLY CLEAR: We have no evidence of Carol being abusive to Rudy. We have no concrete evidence of Carol being abusive to Dess, nothing outside of Dess wanting to run away and take Noelle with her at the very least. We don't know what happened after Noelle went in the Kitchen, only that Carol left to say goodbye to Kris. We have no evidence of Carol being abusive to anyone outside of her family and if i see anyone saying otherwise in the replies without any proof i will fucking delete your comment. Let's not make things up to dislike her for, there's already enough here, trust me.

I do at least want to remind people that (i believe) she's implied to own the Flower Shop and be the one that gave Asgore a place to live and didn't kick him out when he hasn't payed rent in a while. She lets him in her house and is only kind of hostile to him for eating the snack tray inside. Granted. Kind of the minimum for an old family friend, but this is also the man who failed to find your missing daughter when you counted on him to do that, so im surprised she's still giving him the time of day. She's not a flat character, that's why i said her getting a more sympathetic motive later was likely or even for sure happening.

and hell, even if she was, i don't think that makes her a bad character, not at all! I love how well her brief appereance followed up on her build-up! When she's near a place, the entire atmosphere is tense. Her entire color palette is cold, her hands are icy, her haircut and horns are much sharper than both Noelle's and Rudy's, she's intimadating, uninviting... and scary. and not the good kind of scary, like Susie is. It's excecuted really well.

Now, i will also briefly adress something. The Voice-On-The-Phone character. I've seen alot of people run with the idea that it's Carol, most obviously because she unexpectedly shows up right after Kris calls a mysterious person on the phone who says they're coming over. Based on the lines that play when you hover in the kitchen vents, this person:

has seemingly been told about Susie being in the Mayor's house

needs to know about Dess's guitar and have a reason why Susie shouldn't get it

knows about the Church Dark World before it's been made

Talks about a "Dark Fountain... next" which could just be "next Dark Fountain in Church"

has at least some knowledge on how Kris's soul works in Dark Worlds

Possibly knows about Undyne's disappearance and talked about a POLICE SACRIFICE NEXT WEEK?

Considering all this knowledge. And that line. There's a good chance that voice is Carol. But i do have an issue with that and that is the voice text noise. It's completely different from when you call other characters in this very game. The speech pattern is also weird, but that's maybe a gameplay thing?

That, and i don't get why she would've made the Closet Fountain or the Librarby Fountain. Why make a Dark World where your daughter learns to get her own agency and stand up to you, hmm?

I also have a couple questions:

When was the Promise mentionned in the end scene made? Why did Kris make it, and why does it make Kris hesitate from climbing out their window? Is Carol watching them or something

Why is Kris working with Carol against finding the code for the Bunker?

Why does Carol know so much about Dark Worlds, and so keen on not letting Susie get Dess's guitar?

WHY IS CAROL SACRIFICING THE POLICE NEXT WEEK. IS SHE IN A FAUSTIAN DEAL WITH THE DEVIL TYPE RELATIONSHIP WITH THE KNIGHT

Oh yeah, speaking of which, Does She Know about the Knight?

Does Carol have an interest in Dark Worlds due to her husband's mystery illness? We've seen now that Dark Worlds can revive the dead if their dust and maybe a treasured item of theirs on top of that are present at the place the Dark Fountain is made in. Maybe it's a last resort?

Does Carol know Kris is possesed. Is that why when she says "You are welcome here", the text is red?

Why does the Knight have deer horns. And also why does their sword look like a baseball bat and have. Mystery Man Sprite hand holes. Also i've seen some people compare their body shape to Papyrus's and im annoyed by the fact i see their point

...We're definitely not getting an answer to any of these questions before 2026. For sure we aren't.

I've mentionned her already, but i'll just adress it here: I do see the Roaring Knight being related to Dess, or even being a Dess corrupted by pure darkness or whatever the fuck.

Dess has been connected to the character lost in the code, in a Dark World so Dark they can't see anyone or anything. The Bunker, a sealed up, mysterious area is implied to have a dark fountain inside considering how the RK manages to slip inside it with Undyne at the end of Chapter 3; that's a good candidate for where Dess ended up! And who do we think know anything about it's code?

The Police Force (the people tasked with finding Dess) and the Mayor (literally her mom).

There's also the horns, looking similar to the horns the Holidays sport on their heads, and there's been a pattern of monsters who seem to be from similar species that ended up being related, with the notable exception of Ralsei, but even then he's a Darkner, so it's debatable if he counts.

And there's also it's weapon: While in the sprite i picked it looks like a sword, the way it summons it...

Yeah no that's a fucking bat. That's just a bat. There's one in Dess's room. There's also some projectiles that look similar to snowflakes, but that one's a little more debatable? But it would fit with this theory, the Holidays have been repeatedly associated with snow after all.

Finally... The Knight can make fountains. Only Lightners so far have been said to create Fountains. the RK being connected to Dess, or being a manifestation of Dess while she's stuck in the Dark Worlds, could make sense to explain that (and especially explain how the hell it carried Undyne IN THE LIGHT WORLD BTW. THE DREEMUR HOUSE ISN'T EXACTLY NEXT TO THE DAMN BUNKER.) Oh, yeah, and the CODE to the BUNKER is in DESS'S ROOM? In her guitar too. extra connection i just realised.

If Dess is the Knight, Carol being the VOTP makes a bit more sense. Because the impossibly powerful being made of darkness isn't just some shmuck trying to end the world for some fuckass reason... That's a lead to her lost daughter. A daughter i don't think she's ever let herself grieve and move on from.

Maybe, like some Mayor Knight theories stated, she's working with the RK to open fountains in a desperate hope to locate her daughter, while neglecting her family and throwing herself into work outside of that.

Look, im not an expert on how to handle loosing a child. Im a teenager barely out of highschool that can barely keep track of their University's schedule. But im pretty sure keeping your kid's room in the exact state it was in when they died/disappeared, and cleaning it enough that it's not dusty is uh. Not a healthy way to deal with loss.

Carol strikes me then, with this information, as a woman who has diffculty handling change. A woman who, to avoid this, needs control on things, so much so that she's the Mayor of the whole town and can only bring herself out of her work for absolute emergencies or catastrophes. A woman who, prompted by loss and uncertainty, choose to burry herself in her work and force her daughter into a position where she won't ever create any change. No uncertainties, no surprises, she'll know what to expect when it comes to her. Because it's the only family member she can be sure won't change.

...Which is probably why she reacted so badly to Susie's general presence.

Im also deeply curious as to what her relationship with Dess was like before she disapeared. Because she VERY MUCH was NOT the kind of daughter she'd want today; while Dess most likely tried meeting her mother's expectations (the Violin and Flute being on the floor in her room), She also seems to be the rebellious type, the cool older sister, the one with all the cool games you aren't supposed to play and the sporty hobbies.

I think Dess would've gotten along great with Susie, or at least would've shared interests with the girl. I don't even think Carol was mad about only the code in Dess's guitar, considering that burrial with Dust and an item cherished in life seems to be the usual custom for Monsters in Hometown.

Maybe the big reason why she wants Noelle to not talk to Susie ever again is because Dess didn't want to stay; she openly told Noelle as such, and had army rations under her bed (most likely for that reason). Maybe whatever incident that caused Dess to disapear was blamed on that misbehaving? Maybe Susie's reputation as the "Bad Kid" extends so much farther than just school? Did people bother the Mayor about her?? Or maybe Carol just saw a complete stranger she didn't approve of dressed in ripped jeans with their shoes on her couch playing her missing (?) daughter's guitar badly in front of Noelle and she was just incredibly pissed off.

...You think im done with this post now. But you'd be WRONG, because it's

CRACKPOT THEORY TIME!!!

So if we assume that Voice-On-The-Phone is Carol, and that RK is Dess in some way. And that Carol is indeed using the RK to bring Dess back or something. Would that mean that Noelle and Queen's relationship doesn't reflect Noelle and Carol's dynamic... But Dess and Carol's dynamic?

Think about it. Carol doesn't need anything from her daughter. she only needs her to be a picture perfect innocent daughter with good grades who participates in the church choir and 0 skeletons in her closet. I don't think she's even trying to make Noelle happy or make her life particularly better outside of her own idea of better, outside maybe that pushing her to get better grades could let her get better universities later down the line?

That doesn't fully map onto Queen, who, while she is controlling and manipulative and uses the teenagers around her for her own ends, those ends are to help Noelle; she says she saw "her [Noelle's] sad searches", and thinks making a second fountain, a different Dark World, would help Noelle be happy. Once Noelle stands up to Queen and makes her agency known, Queen relents. She admits she was wrong. She lets Noelle choose her own world.

I think, with the theories and possibilities i've expressed in this post, that Carol working with the RK or being on the same side is possible, especially with the Dess connection you can make. In this, RK (or Dess) would be the willing peon of Carol, opening up more Dark Worlds to bring about either The Roaring, or finding more information on Dess's whereabouts, and the Knight messing with any of the Darkners before the Fuck Gang reaches them would be prehemptive attempts to stop them, or at least slow them down.

The main difference would end up being that... Contrary to what happens at the end of Chapter 2, RK wouldn't stand up to Carol. In this framework, it's willingly being used for this purpose and seemingly doesn't mind that at all (Maybe like how Queen thought Noelle didn't mind being ordered around all Chapter). Although, we still have 3 chapters left and a roaring to cause, so perhaps the RK will betray Carol, and she'll have to face her loss head on.

...This post was supposed to be a footnote in my dumping info post from earlier, why did this balloon so much in length Oh my god

EDIT: WE HAVE MORE LINES FROM THE CHARACTER STUCK IN THE FILES... AND IT IS ABSOLUTELY DESS. I WAS SO RIGHT

Ok so this changes that final crackpot theory. a bit. Because the Roaring Knight isn't Dess. The deer horns and somewhat deer-skull shaped head it bears during it's intro animation in Chapter 3 is still sus, but it's likely not LITERALLY Dess.

...So Mayor Knight theorists might've been right again, and instead Carol's taken a Faustian Bargain with the RK, possibly to find Dess. Which could explain why she needs Kris (and maybe why she knows of the soul situation) to seal dark fountains and shit. Unless the sealing is unintentional and instead only the Roaring would bring them closer to finding Dess. Hmm.

[mscherub]

Right, so…you’re transported to a new world, and me being the science geek I am, I can’t help but think of all the bacteria you wouldn’t be accustomed to in Twisted Wonderland…so imagine how bad flu season would be, or just the spreading of sicknesses around the school in general

You better have a good immune system cause oml would it be put into overdrive. Anyways…here’s my twist on what the Octavinelle boys would do in order to be helpful in your recovery ❤️‍🩹

Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings!:

Sickness, obviously

Mentions of vomiting, snot, etc

To start us off…

It’s flu season in Twisted Wonderland, well you call it the flu, they call it something else you don’t even bother to learn. With you’re immune so shot and not used to the illnesses that spread around, getting sick more often that you honestly should, you woke up with a headache. Ok…nothing too serious, but you thought it to be a good idea to just take some ibuprofen equivalent in their world and “thug it out,” which ultimately lead to your current situation. Currently, you’re in the infirmary, having passed out from a raging fever and a disgustingly congested respiratory system during PE and you’re bed ridden back at ramshackle, at least until your fever goes down. Sevens bless Grim and the ghosts as they try and get you things to feel better, but you need some sort of intervention, and here comes you’re favorite person at the right time. How do they help you out?

Azul🐙:

“Sign the contract and, you know, I can just take away the sickness, all I need is something in return—“ he’ll pull that card first, but then of course he’ll get serious about it once he sees how bad you look (no offense…)

Mans can cook, we’ve known this, so he’ll cook up a nice meal for you, and he’ll do whatever…just not takoyaki, don’t even say that, he’ll walk out

Ok, anyways, very technical man, so he’s on top of your medicines that you have to take, and maybe he’ll even brew up a potion of something to help with coughs, headaches, or any achyness.

I mean, his motto is to help those poor unfortunate souls in need, and clearly your in need so, he’ll do this for you, just once, but you will have to pay him back, and he’ll state this more than just a few times

He’s researched things on humans before coming to land, just the way he is, and he’s not exactly that weird like the twins, so he won’t eye you when you cough, sneeze, or puke, or anything else, if anything he’ll be grossed out.

Comfort is awkward for him, but he’ll sit on the edge of your bed, reading or something, kinda just being there. He might hum quietly, (IM NOT NORMAL FOR AZUL, ID FALL ASLEEP SO QUICK IF HE HUMMED A LULABY OR SOME SHIT)…must have been the wind yall—

He’s busy, so if he may or may not sub out one of the twins for him. But after he’s done with whatever, if he has time to come back, he will. Not because he cares that much or anything…

Afterwards he’ll ask you to pay him back by washing dishes at the lounge or something. At least he’s giving you an easy job

Jade🫧:

He likes being depended on like…like a lot we’ll just say that

He’ll pamper the FUCK outa you, but there’s always a meaning behind it, but yea, when I mean pamper, I mean pamper.

He’ll make you tea for a sore throat, any foods you want, though he may sneak mushrooms in, so be weary?

Merfolk don’t really get “sick” underwater, so sneezing, coughing, it’s all interesting to him still even after being on land for so long already. Humans look funny when they do it, and he just can’t help but wanna coddle you like a baby, so safe to say if you like puke or anything he won’t bat an eye. ”Funny. Do it again”

He’s on top of medicines as well so don’t even worry, he’ll probably try and find other medicines though to make you feel “better.” It’s Jade, what do you expect

I think he’d hum quietly while he does stuff around your room, wether that be cleaning or organizing stuff, and he’d do that on purpose to try and “soothe you to sleep.”

Afterwards when your better, he’ll say you have to pay him back, but bro is just weird and paying him back would honestly be letting him take care of you again 💀

Floyd 🫧:

Shrimpy is in trouble? The fuck you mean they can’t go mess around? He’ll come in, look at you, purse his lips while inspecting you, let out a huff, say how weak and silly little Shrimpy is for getting sick, then start to be a little nice.

Honestly depends on his moods. If you catch him in a bad one he’ll still go to your room, but he’ll sit there and glare at you, and you being sick will piss him off more, cause now your no fun. Just pout at him and he might give in.

Semi-ok mood, he’ll get in bed and drape himself over you to “heal you.” I mean, whatever works I guess :/

Again with the whole sickness thing, he finds it funny when you sneeze, cough, snot up, puke. He’ll laugh, and if you glare at him he’ll tease you more no doubt, it’s Floyd. He’ll still try and calm you down, in his way, though. Squeezing may not be a good option if you just threw up—

If you ask him for anything he’ll do it, and again, depends on the mood.(But hypothetically let’s say he’s in a good mood for the majority of this)

He’ll make you food, get you blankets, mostly anything you ask him to do, and just the things you ask him to do, he won’t do anything else.

“Medicine? Wait…you’re supposed to take that?” Let’s just say he’d forget, but then sometimes he’d remember, mix of both.

He’ll lay in bed with you and get all comfy, he doesn’t care if he gets sick, says he can’t and that he just wants to make Shrimpy better <3

He’ll forget to ask you to pay him back, he had fun, so he doesn’t care

I wrote this all in one sitting, a rarity for me, also during a study hall…anyways!

Hope you enjoyed, lovelies! More soon for sure!

(Also I think yall can tell what dorm is my favorite now-)

Master list

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[coriphallus]

The Dark Urge thoughts (and prayers)

anyone whos been following me knows im absolutely not normal about durge and i wanna share some tidbits that are implied, but not necessarily canonised, from their story;

I already made a post about it but it seems like bhaal has a degree of control over whether they live or die. he can deny them death, if they fail the duel with orin.

bhaal can command the slayer. he forces orin to transform if you talk to her about sarevok and the scene makes it clear that its against her will.

bhaal manipulates his kin in a subtler way. in the colony you can find a letter from old durge thats apologising to his father for 'liking' gortash. you can interpret their relationship as something deeper but even if it wasnt, this reads to me as terrified and desperate.

the reason being, if you have a LI in act 2 you get the famous bondage scene. coupled up with the letter above makes me think this is a pattern. bhaal can use their feelings against them. he did it with sarevok and orin's mother, orin's mother and orin, etc... it's not as straightforward as 'if you disobey ill kill the one you love'. you will. durge will.

bhaal is testing them in act 2, he revels in chaos, sure, but in the grand scheme of things he doesn't care about isobel. even if you tell scel that you'll kill her you're told that youre too late, you ignored your urges. from durge, bhaal doesn't expect calm calculated murder, he expects blind obedience. failing to receive that his first punishment is to take away something they cherish. there are no half measures, theres no bargaining with a god.

we get so many snippets of information that this has happened before, their foster family being their first victims. theyre made to kill their support system with their own hands, with no one to blame but themselves. they are actually apologising to their father for being fond of gortash because (in my humble opinion) theyre genuinely afraid.

how many times could this have happened, how many nights durge couldve woken up covered in the blood of someone they love until they gave in, became daddys obedient puppet?

durge is groomed for murder. scel says 'you always failed to conduct yourself without me' and given who he is i dont think hes talking about table manners when he says 'conduct'. durge needs 24/7 oversight to set themselves right lest they get tempted by softer things. lest they dare to step away from bhaals grand plan.

durge do have a choice. just as shadowheart had a choice, just as wyll or astarion had a choice. its a choice only in name.

theres no ending besides refusing bhaal that their friends and LI wont die by their hands. the entire lore of bhaalspawn is that theyre meant to conquer the world in his name and slit their own throat a top the mountain of corpses. as cazador aptly put, 'theyre made to be consumed.'

you can pray to bhaal and the narrator says he won't accept [any offering] but the entire world.

durge (and bhaalspawn) do get some sort of euphoria from murder. they crave it like an addict, but bhaalspawn (on prev games) don't constantly have to grapple with these urges as durge does.

now durge is a slightly special case but not in a good way. its implied that theyre not like a regular bhaalspawn, that theyre made by bhaal directly -so to speak-. which is to say, if youre playing a drow, they are bhaals closest approximation of a drow rather than a drow flesh and blood.

thats why theyre fighting tooth and nail against these urges every step of the way, they are literally bhaal himself(in essence). the personality they develop, the person who calls themselves 'tainted' and 'wretched', the character thats making choices throughout the game, theyre the tumour.

theirs is the story of cycle of abuse cranked up to 1000 and it is in parallel to all other origin companions.

[n0rmal-cat]

Normal, normal, it's me, ✨

I'm here to submit a request bc it's been eating at me, and I know you'll do it justice.

You know VNs (visual novels), right? The basis being, multiple people get their own little versions to play with the same character(s), choosing different choices that line up with them irl, an immersive experience for different people, stay with me, ik I sound crazy,

Okay so imagine this, a VN MC keeps going through the story and understands his life is looping, he also understands that, like, the player character keeps picking different options every so often and he'll make comments on that. Like if the player picks different sweets as like their favorite treat, he'll make little comments on that like "oh this time it strawberry" or "you know last time it was..." "will it be something else time" stuff like that. So he basically sees the player as either someone with amnesia or like a system/DID

Anyways, the true idea is, a player starting up the game for like a 3rd time and getting all confused about how the MC is reacting to them, maybe he goes off course,

Yandere visual novel protagonist x reader

[WHY WOULD YOU INTRUST ME WITH THIS GOOD IDEA IDK WHAT IM DOING HALF THE TIME, SO SORRY ✨ I DONT KNOW IF THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED, BECAUSE I GOT A LITTLE CONFUSED, IF NOT ILL WRITE ANOTHER ONE😭💀]

[also yes his name is #### because most protagonists don’t get names]

It wasn’t like everyday was the same, no god had given him the luxury of letting him live a full life only to restart them over…and over…and over.

“So #### what will it be, you can either study with me or sneak out so you can go to the party or it’s the drop out”

He didn’t know how many times he had been asked that stupid question. If he study with his ‘best friend’ he gains enough knowledge to pass the next test with flying colours and impress them.

But if he went to the party they would gain a reputation with the ‘bad boy’ and impress them instead.

He didn’t want to do either, they honestly just wanted to stay in his dorm and sleep for the night.

“I don’t think-I’m sorry I think I’m going to go out tonight” what was that, that was his voice wasn’t it but he didn’t say that.

“Alright I see how it is, you go have fun”

“Wait hold on i didn’t say that!-“ before he could finish his sentence he were already in a different scene.

“No I didn’t want this!”

“#### I’m so glad you came. I promise this won’t be a waste of time” they swooped their hair.

“God you again?” For the past three times he had been hanging out and living their life with this guy.

“Sorry man I think I’m just going to go home” he didn’t like this guy and never had, but the universe just loved to put them together he guessed.

“Did I choose the wrong option? I don’t remember this dialogue?” They snapped their head to the sky. What was that, ‘who’ was that.

You, they saw you. His chest twisted, his stomach felt like it was clasping on itself. Who were you? And what were you?

God? Was that what you were, were you the one setting him on loop over and over again, but why?

“Maybe I should look up the guide again?…did the game freeze? No no no! My progress!”

Game? That’s what this was wasn’t it you weren’t god and they weren’t a person were they. They felt their world go dark, literally in fact as they stared into the empty void.

They clenched and unclenched their hand a couple of times “haha….hahahAHAHAHA” how could they have been so stupid. Of course it was a game but then if they weren’t alive what were they? And if they felt alive could they die?

The world booted itself up again to the ‘first day’. “Damn we’re gonna have to start over again I guess, fifteen endings to go”

Only fifteen? And then what you’ll just leave them, their world never to be opened again left and forgotten. They couldn’t have that not when your were the only real person they had ever met, they didn’t want to constantly fall in love with the same cardboard cutout anymore.

A prompt pop up, “oh no I wake up late, and for my first day at college to, should I have breakfast and risk being late to class or skip breakfast and risk being hungry the rest of the day”

“I guess we’ll skip breakfast, I want to get Raphael out of the anyway”

Is this what it felt like to be controlled by you, was everything he did up to you? Oh god they were having a crisis.

“I actually would like breakfast, kinda want to think about my life right now I also wouldn’t like to start collage for the third time today”

There was an unsettling silence “huh..”

“Can we talk about my life over breakfast actually” they poured themselves a bowl of cereal.

Their world turned black again but when it came back on they were in the same spot. “Stop I literally just want to talk”

“Oh my god this is not happening to me, I’m in a creepypasta aren’t I?”

“What’s a creepypasta?

They got no response back, “so why do you want to get endings of my life, and also why are all the endings to my life me getting with different people, is there a bad ending can I die, have I died and I just don’t remember?” They ate their cereal.

“I’m just gonna” they shut the game off it seemed, #### turned it back on themselves.

“That’s very rude you know”

“How did you do that?!”

“Don’t really know, I’d like to know a lot of things actually, and it would be a help if you answered them”

“Are you gonna haunt me?”

They look up at the sky looking at the face looking back at them in fear.

“Yea…if you don’t play my game every day and talk to me I will haunt you” that will definitely work.

“You sound unsure?”

“And…?”

Reader eventually caves in continues to play, it’s actually pretty fun he gives them tips on how to answer certain questions so they don’t even have to look up a guide anymore.

He also stopped complaining when they turn off his game console now, oh but don’t worry that’s just because he’s infected your phone with his code your stuck with him forever <3

He just wants to talk please, please talk to him.

[pixel art because he’s a game…it just fits]

[carlyraejepsans]

until recently i was a "havent even touched the game in 8 years, i barely remember the characters" type of ut fan, but i just finished it again and my brain is active again, but im really rusty. i could only think of you to ask, please feel free to ignore if youve answered before or for any reason at all. ill send them by separating, first one is this: since flowey says he "could never get past Asgore if it werent for you" does that tie to the quality of his determination, stats, or gameplay? like is he simply stuck on the "playing" part, no matter what he has equiped or his LV, is he simply unable to manage the turns? im a shitty gamer myself, i can bet sans fight would succeed to stop me from finishing a NoMercy, so is the asgore fight equivalent of that for flowey? so he never got Any "ending" at all, just went around doing what he could, until only thing left was asgore, and reseted? if so, wouldnt that make it basically canon he'd tried a NoMercy and got stumped worse with sans? please tell me your thoughts on floweys time with the power to save and reset

Hi, and welcome back to the game! I was in your exact same position a couple of years ago, so I'm super flattered you're looking at me for information.

Flowey's final kill count before the events of the game is... debatable. More under the cut because this got long.

Of course, like you said, you have lines like the ones after you deal with Asgore for him:

Howdy! It's me, FLOWEY. FLOWEY the FLOWER! I owe you a HUGE thanks. You really did a number on that old fool. Without you, I NEVER could have gotten past him. But now, with YOUR help… He's DEAD. And I'VE got the human SOULS!

There's a pretty straightforward interpretation of this line, and it's the one you brought up: Flowey tried to defeat Asgore but couldn't, and he needed us to weaken him first to achieve his goal. The phrasing doesn't leave much to be contested. However! There's another Flowey line--this time in the geno route, I don't know if you've already gotten to it in your replay--that i feel can offer a slightly different perspective.

You understand, I've done everything this world has to offer. I've read every book. I've burned every book. I've won every game. I've lost every game. I've appeased everyone. I've killed everyone. Sets of numbers… Lines of dialogue… I've seen them all.

If you go with the previous interpretation, you can read this line as Flowey being hyperbolic, or taking some poetic liberty for the sake of rhetorical parallelism. But considering his larger metanarrative role as a mirror and reflection of the completionist player experience, I think it is also completely fair to assume that Flowey HAS, in fact, killed Asgore before. Just like he's killed Sans. Just like he's killed literally everyone who can be killed in the game, either directly or indirectly (see, in our case, Alphys).

This does require a re-framing of the post Asgore fight dialogue, however. Which is... actually not as much of a stretch as you'd expect!

"but now, with your help... he's dead. and i've got the human SOULs." -> i needed your help to kill him.

"but now with your help... he's dead. and i've got the human SOULs." -> i needed your help to get the SOULs, specifically.

It's a subtle difference, but one that gets corroborated, once again, in Flowey's NEW HOME monologue in the geno route.

We don't even need to leave to get them this time. The king has six of them locked away. I've tried hundreds of ways to get him to show me them… But he just won't. I know he'll do it for YOU.

Remember how the SOUL containers are hidden under the floor in front of the Barrier until the moment you and Asgore initiate the battle? There would be no way for Flowey to know where they were stored unless Asgore chose to show them to him.

If you want my personal favorite interpretation, I think it's pretty clear that I lean towards the second option. All while not discarding the idea that Flowey is just a bit of a shit gamer as unrealistic (for all he may trap us in unavoidable attacks over and over, he does get thwarted every single time). He certainly seems more apt in plotting schemes and manipulation than sheer fighting prowess. My preference also remains because, while Flowey IS softlocked out of the ability to "finish the game" until we (the true protagonist) start playing, that is because Undertale doesn't end when we kill Asgore: it ends when we get to the Surface. THAT'S the final objective Flowey wants, and can never achieve on his own in the state of the game before it begins. Whether Asgore is alive or dead is irrelevant.

My preference also comes from Asgore and Flowey's characterizations. We know that Flowey has spent a significant amount of time stalking and resenting and mocking and enjoying Toriel's suffering in the RUINs. He is extremely good at pushing buttons and digging wounds back open. And well, Asgore himself is actively suicidal by the time we get to him, and has been for a while. Think only of the ending where Flowey doesn't kill him, so he kills himself instead. Furthermore, if you look at Undyne's reminiscing during our date in pacifist...

Once, to prove I was the strongest, I tried to fight ASGORE. Emphasis on TRIED. I couldn't land a single blow on him!

...it's clear Asgore is not only a very strong opponent, but also capable of blocking/dodging attacks. Something he doesn't do during our battle with him, in order to give us a fair fighting chance. Which is also clear suicidal ideation. Now, once again you could use this dialogue to support the opposite thesis that Flowey never managed to kill him. Asgore clearly has past experience in fending off rabid 13yos who want to beat his ass. But he is also in a very fraught mental state as is. Flowey's... well, everything--his mere existence as a concept would be enough to make him want to die. You can't tell me Flowey never drove his father to suicide during his resets (think of Asgore and Alphys' parallels), OR his mother--though I don't think he would be successful in her case (which only makes him hate Toriel more.)

But I would say both options are very good and can both be used to explore their characterization, on their own and in relation to one another.

So while I don't disagree with your comment about the Asgore fight being Flowey's personal Sans fight, I do think Flowey's Sans fight WAS also just... the sans fight lmao. Possibly with easier requirements to face it than us, if you only consider this dialogue of his after several neutral endings in a row

You know. Smiley Trashbag. Say. If I have ONE piece of advice for you... DON'T. Let his brother. Find out ANYTHING about you. He'll... well… Let's just say. He's caused me more than my fair share of resets. Stay away from that guy.

Though it's true that that could both refer to his fight and other shenanigans Sans could have pulled to cause problems on purpose for a time traveler, if he really saw them as a threat that needed dealing with.

does that tie to the quality of his determination, stats, or gameplay? like is he simply stuck on the "playing" part, no matter what he has equiped or his LV, is he simply unable to manage the turns?

I'll leave that to your discretion, actually! Like I already mentioned, it does seem to me that Flowey's specific strengths lie in his ability to manipulate and plot from the shadows, but whether he's naturally good at battles or not, I think the core of what makes him dangerous is the same thing that made us dangerous too. The fact that his mistakes, at the end of the day, do not matter. Flowey can fail and die and try again every single time he wants.

Every other character only needs to mess up once.

When the bored time bending kid with a violent complex has the wheel, it's not a matter of "if" he beats you. It's a matter of when.

Hope that made some kind of sense!

[mediumgayitalian]

Can you recommend long fics preferably over 200k words pls (all solangelo centered) 😞

okay so i searched through all my bookmarks and, unfortunately, ive only got 3 fics over 200K, two of which i'm certain i've already recced, and one i'm not quite done myself (but that i am enjoying a lot):

august by @cordelia---rose

Somehow, Nico's life only gets more confusing after he defeats a primordial Goddess. Will Solace accounts for about 90% of that confusion. (A journey through August, and all its ups and downs.)

i have recced this series once i have recced it a thousand times. it is my own personal canon. as long as my fics do an okay job reflecting the will and nico here, i'm happy. august (will's version) has to be one of my favorite fics ive ever read and the updates keep me sane. i LOVE this fic. there is such care in it. it is done so amazingly well and cordelia, in general, is an EXCEPTIONAL author with an unbelievably good handle on characterization and humor.

2. PJO Arranged Marriage/Royalty AU by @gatesofember

In a fictional world inspired by 18th century Europe, Artemis arranges the marriage of Will, the illegitimate son of Duke Apollo, and Nico, the Prince of Pluto. Percy, Prince of Neptune, marries his lover and childhood friend, Annabeth, a foreign heretic native to the islands in the north. After his older sisters pull out of the succession and his fiancee leaves him, Jason, Crown Prince of the Juvian Empire, faces the manipulative power of his stepmother alone...until he finds a new woman to marry.

i love this fic. it is unfinished however and will remain so. ember has an ending outlined on their blog, and who knows, anything can happen. lol. HOWEVER this is definitely worth the read. if anything it will inspire a royal au that lives in your head, like it lives in mine. plot was so so so so catching.

3. Will Solace and the Socialites of Olympus University by @sarcasmandships

Will Solace has enough problems. Between juggling two jobs, surviving pre-med classes, and making sure his roommates don’t burn down their Harlem apartment, the last thing he needs is a hopeless crush on campus legend Nico di Angelo. But try telling that to his heart. Nico and his rich, mysterious, ridiculously good-looking best friends (affectionately dubbed “Nico and the Seven” by students who can only dream of being that cryptic) are the stuff of gossip and wild rumours. Mafia ties? Maybe. Vampire coven? Sure. Time travelers from an alternate dimension? Definitely plausible. Will’s sure he’s never stood a chance… until a spilled drink, a cigarette on a balcony, and one very unexpected dinner invitation send him spiralling into Nico’s orbit. Now he’s stuck somewhere between flirting and a full-blown existential crisis. Because falling for Nico di Angelo was not part of Will’s academic plan; and he’s about to learn that extra credit doesn’t cover emotional disasters.

ongoing, but excellent. i am on....chapter 11?? i think?? so a quarter through. i broke and read ahead to some of the smut lol. and some of the prequel also bc it is excellent. but i am back on the straight and narrow and reading this painful slowburn persist. i am very excited to see where this goes bc anything stella writes is a BANGER and im not just saying that bc we're moots. she genuinely has a very good idea on how to write the push and pull and flow of a relationship, from romantic to platonic to in between and outside.

okay that's it that i have for 200k+. however. i have SEVERAL 20k+ fics?? if you would like?? shoot me an ask and ill do a list of those

[xq1zi]

look of love

gaara x reader

warnings: not proof read, english not first language, and no capitalization.

word count: 2.4k

A/N: gaara needs more love. also i recommend the song “strangers in the night” by frank sinatra. it describes this fic perfectly i think and it wasn’t even intentional lol. also this kinda dumb

when the chunin exams had begun you weren't there due to being away on a mission with your parents. and when you came back so much had happened such as sasuke leaving the village. naruto going to go train with master jiraiya.

you would be filled in once you came back and saddened that you didn't get a chance to say goodbye to nartuo. but wasn't the end of the world since what caught your interest was the three they called the “sand village siblings”.

and was told how scarry a guy called “gaara” was. sure when this was told to you all of it already happened so you had nothing to worry about but still left a bad taste in your tongue.

but nowadays its peace was made with the sand village so nothing goes on with them anymore you gradually forgot about them. then you were told to go assist team 10 going to save the current kazekage.

after the cheering and sad moment for lady chiyo, he had gotten up to go back home. but he had looked around for a second to see who had come. then your eyes met.

it could be because he's never seen you. or simply you caught his eye for some reason. but for that moment it felt like staring into a person you've known for years. comfort. but it ended as quickly as it started.

then everyone went back to the village and naruto suggested that they should go out to eat. so many went to a restaurant to celebrate the fact that gaara is alive.

the restaurant had a second level balcony and you went out to get fresh air for a little while. then the door slides open. “oh, i didn't realize someone was already here.” a quiet voice says.

“oh no, don't stop because of me here.” you invited gaara to come out with you.

“i don't think we've met before. i was certain i had met everyone of naruto friends by now” he spoke again. “i was on a mission when you first came to leaf village so i didn't have a chance to meet you. im [name] nice to meet you.” your eyes couldnt leave his.

“same to you. gaara but i'm sure you knew that by now…” silent grew but looking into each other's eyes you didn't even notice it one bit.

but subconsciously without thinking, you blurted out the one thing that should've been kept inside. “you look so beautiful..,” quickly slapping your hand over your face and turning away from him.

when you saw him like this your cheeks reddeden even more but this time from the way he looks so cute in this moment. but as it was his power to interpret, nartuo came in looking for gaara. “GAARA THERE YOU ARE HERE COME DOWN- huh what are you guys doing here”

“nothing naruto, just getting to know one another since this is my first time meeting” you said back to him.” “oh okay!,” he gave his big smile “GAARA LET'S GO COME ON” he screamed even more, “very well, nice to meet you, hope we meet again.” he looked at you, seemingly not wanting to go. “yeah..same” both of you stand there before naruto starts yelling again.

a few days passed and you can't stop thinking about the feeling you got with gaara. then as it seems like luck was on your side you were given an assessment to go and give documents to the sand village. after three days of travel you arrived at the sand village. you were at the kazekage doors.

after you knock you hear his voice. “come in.” you opened the door and he looks at you with surprise. “ive came to drop off some reports from what..well you know happened.” you said a bit shyly.

“ah, yes t-thank you.” hes a bit red. “w-well ill be going now.” you said. “w-wait! well arent you tired? y-you should sleep before going,” gaara said without thinking.

not sure of what he was doing he continued on. “you can sleep within my residence, as a guest of the kazekage. rest for a while.” he was still timid but calmed down.

“you sure? i wouldn’t want to be bothersome.” everything seems like it’s coming to place. “you wouldn't, i can assure.” he replied.

“well i guess a quick power nap wouldn’t hurt,” you didn’t sleep that well and you could use a hot shower. “okay i’ll take you up on that offer.”

“good here, follow me.” he said. you two walked for a bit and got to the entrance of his home. then we walked over to a room.

it was nice and tidy. “take my room. my bed is more comfortable than the one in the guest bedroom.” don’t know why he brought you to his own room. but he felt so comfortable with you that he didn’t mind it.

“oh thank you so much.” you said in a genuine tone. “yes, no problem, have a nice nap.” he smiled at you then left to go back to his duties. once his presence left the room you quickly felt your heart racing. why was he making you feel this way? surely it can’t just be you feeling this away.

and you would come to the right conclusion because little to your knowledge he also felt his heart beating in a way he can’t explain.

you changed into some sleeping clothes you packed just in case. and slept for a while. but unfortunately the thing that woke you up was gaara coming into the room thinking you’ve already gone home. since it was only going to be a “quick nap”.

“forgive me i thought you would’ve gone home by now.” he said, very sorry for coming in while you slept. “huh?! NO DID I OVERSLEEP…” you shouted just a bit. “seems as though you did.” he said back. “awe man, wasted a whole day. i have to start leaving now.” you said while getting up from the bed and remaking it.

“i’m assuming you haven’t had dinner yet. it’s not good to go on an empty stomach.” gaara had a point there. “do you have anything in mind?” you said. “i can show you a good restaurant if you want,” he suggested. “i haven’t had dinner yet either”

“okay sure let me get ready and i’ll meet you outside” you replied and started to get dressed once he left. after being done you went down and met with him. and walked to the restaurant together. the two of you sat down and ordered.

“thank you so much for letting me sleep. saved me money and sleep deprivation!” he chuckled at the statement. “yes, no problem just wanting to return the favor to the leaf after coming to my aid” conversation was going smoothly. two of you ate and talked like you’ve grown together over the years.

then finally this moment came to a close and two of you stood outside the restaurant. smiles both placed on each other's faces. then when you started saying goodbye you said something.

“hey! gaara…don’t you feel like we’ve known each other for years. for some reason i’m so comfortable with you.” you said in a soft tone.

“well, yes i do feel like that. i thought i was simply imagining it.” he gave you a soft answer.

“my heart is telling me to keep seeing you or at least keep in touch…hope that doesn’t sound too crazy if you know what i mean.” you chuckled.

“no,not at all, i wouldn't mind. we can exchange letters until we meet again.”

“oh that 's so great! bye gaara!! you’ll get a letter from me once i arrive okay?!” you left giddy knowing that you took a risk and it paid off. faith is certainly doing its course.

over the past couple of months you and gaara exchanged letters. you would wait for his letter to come every time. of course many took notice now a certain type of bird will find you and hand you a letter. it would be rare that you two would meet but every time it was perfect.

“[name] spill we know you have a mystery man.” sakura said while ino stood next to her. “yeah we’ve been dying to know!!” ino went next.

cheeks red from the sudden accusation. you start to rebuttal them. “huh?! i don’t have a mystery man, what are you guys on about!” you wave your hand at them.

“lies! you receive letters from him and every time you read them your face smiles from ear to ear.” sakura shouting at you. this continues on for a bit after you reveal that it's been gaara you’ve been talking to. but nothing is going on.

“nothing going on my butt, you clearly have feelings for him!” ino said. “oh my it’s quite literally love at first sight!” sakura smiled. “sakura what are you on about?! It's nothing like that.” you defend yourself even though deep down you know it’s the truth.

“you can’t even hide it well. your eyes light up so much when you see his letter.” ino remarks. you don’t speak knowing it’s true. “you can’t even say anything because you know it’s true” sakura teased.

while you were enduring this torture, gaara seemily was also going through the same things.

“hey gaara i’ve been wondering who sends you so much letters.” kankuro said. “hey! i was just thinking the same thing!!” temari stated.

“oh, it’s nothing really. just a friend.” they both gave “ohhh”s. “who it’s it naruto? man is he surely consistent with them.” kankuro said. “well it’s a she so it’s not naruto” gaara corrected him. both of them were confused and shocked. “it's a girl?! who!?” temari interested in what her little brother is doing.

“she’s from the leaf. we met when they came to our rescue. for some reason we connected right away.” gaara said bluntly.

“are you serious? i wouldn’t take you for a person who would connect right away.” kankuro laughed. “well who is she? you haven’t answered that.” temari asked again.

“her name is [name].she wasn’t there when we took the chunin exams. so you didn’t get to meet her.” he answered. he gave a slight smile when talking about you.

“gaara do you like her as a friend or something more? you seem to light up as you talk above her.” temari teased him. “you should definitely ask her out if you do” kankuro joined in.

“it’s nothing like that.” gaara defended himself while a tint of pink appeared on his cheeks. this continued for a while seemingly with no end. but at the end of the day both of you came to the same conclusion. you both had a crush on each other.

when finally it came time for you two to see each other again. it was a bit awkward. “so gaara how have you been..?” you asked shyly while walking. “good, a bit tiring but nonetheless good.” he replied back.

“good, good, uhm gaara do you want to go somewhere? i know a really good place.” you said to him. “sure, lead the way.” he smiled at you.

while you led the way you too talked. with those quick silent moments where you two just look at each other with a deep understanding. just like falling in love.

“look gaara, how beautiful the view is!,” you said while looking over the beach as the sun goes down. and the waterfall falling into the water make a nice and calming sound that you can just fall asleep too.

“here!, come!! sit! look at this view gaara isn’t it great.” you said while being hypnotized by the view.

“yes. it is certainly beautiful.” gaara said but not looking at the view rather at you. the two of you sat there for a while listening to the waves and wind. you gave a sigh “gaara… i feel like i’ve known you for so long… i feel so safe around you.” you turned now looking into his eyes. drowning in them you lose yourself in them.

“i feel the same. not sure why but i want to stay close to you.” he turned red because he never felt so open like this before.

“me too…can i be honest gaara?,” he nodded so you continued. “i have feelings for you… when i first saw you i felt a sudden connection i know it sound silly-”

“it doesn’t. it’s not silly.” he interrupted you. “you sure?” you giggled. “i’m sure.” his smile was so bright.

“would you like to be with me?” he said. it was sudden even though you felt the same you were so shy to answer. “y-yes. i would!” you said while turned red. “good. thank you.” he pulled into a hug and kiss the top of your head.

after a couple of hours you two returned to his home. as it was closer. “so now that we are together…what do we do?” you asked.

“not sure what you mean.” he was confused. “i mean do you want to cuddle and sleep together?” you nervously laughed. “you can if you want.” he looked away with a slight blush. “you look cute, did i tell you that?” you giggled. he blushed even more.

you got ready for bed. his bed was large so certainly enough space for both of you two to have your own space. but you chose not too. embracing each other. and falling asleep as newley lovers. who seemingly fell in love at first sight.

did guys like it? i worked on it in class lol. i probably would make head canons for him or a part 2 if you guys want!!

[jaychrilo1144]

Ramble post 19373729

Topic- being trans/queer in the marauders fandom

There is so much hate going on, especially on tiktok and instagram rn. From my experience we're reletively alright here on tumblr but it still needs to be adressed.

The marauders fandom is for those who are pushed to the side. That goes for poc, ppl of the lgbt community, or anyone of a marginalized community.

We saw the hate from the creator of this world, took that, and turned this world into an inclusive space for character fan cannons/fics to roll with and made sure that fans felt like they had a safe space to go.

After all, James Potter-and parents- are known for "picking up the strays". The marauders themselves symbolize Found Family along with the skittles and The Golden Trio. Finding a space and the people in that space who will love you for being yourself regardless of the people who didnt (especially those who didnt and were supposed to).

I have found safety expressing my Sexuality here. I looked at some of the characters like remus and luna be so loved by their friends regardless of who they are, what they're interests are, and how they act, and realized that I deserve to have people around me who will accept me for me. That I am not too much. That I am enough. That I am deserving of everything good I want for my life. And because of the safety and love I have felt here, I only saw it fit to pour back into it because thats what we do for each other here.

No we dont all agree on things. Everyone has their own ships, their own headcannons, and thats okay. We can agree to disagree on things like this, and at the end of the day we will always have eachothers backs because we know what it is to be thrown to the side and no one should have fo feel like that.

Right now, I am seeing an obscene amount of transphobia, racism, and homophobia in the Harry Potter/ Marauders community, and it's devastating. People are being publically dead named right now because of headcannon disagreements. What the actual fuck?? Or I've seen some ppl go insane bc some ppl headcannon James Potter as mexican or desi. And some people headcannon sirius/remus/regulus as trans, and they are getting shit on too. What???

Do we not remember that we are talking about FICTIONAL CHARACTERS??? And that the marauders fandom makes fanfics... again. FAN... FICS. They are not cannon. Sometimes they arent supposed to be even close to cannon. It is fan based. Interpretations and expressions of said characters and story line. Dont like it? Turn the other way and find people, blogs, videos, stories, and headcannons that you DO like!

As for the treatment of other fellow fans here, im truly devastated about it. Trans people do NOT deserve this kind of treatment, especially here! Especially since this fandom is based on inclusivity, acceptance, and found family.

Whats even worse is the ppl who say Fuck JKR and hide behind that while STILL continuing to act against the lgbt community, marginalized groups, and other fellow marauder fans. You know who you are. Do better.

The world is already a scary place, and a scarier place for trans folk. With Tr!mp in office here in the states, its even scarier to see all of the excessive hate on my community and seeing less and less safe places available for both queer and trans people.

The safe places that trans people have are sacred, and thats how it should be here too

Forgetting the fact that marauders was during the 70s-80s (again the world is literally made up, logical time and the beliefs at that time dont have to follow), would James potter truly be a person to turn away a friend for being queer or trans. Think about it. Ill wait. Oh wait, I don't have to, because NO. NO HE WOULDNT! He found out Remus was a werewolf, a literal XXXXX creature that can brutily kill people one night of the month, and james said "yes, I accept him. And because of my friendship to him, I will research and go through the process of becoming an animagus because I care for my friend and he doesnt deserve to be alone." As did sirius and peter in the end.

Be more like James Potter. It is not difficult to respect people. Respect your fellow marauders & hp fans. Keep this a safe place for them, and all.

Thank you.