#WHAT IS GOING ON AM I INSANE???? AM I LOSING IT???

[fangsandfeels]

It's not that Rook as a project manager/leader/decision-maker doesn't work or has no value. However, what bothers me is that Rook feels like they literally exist to fulfill that role, but they have no part in the story.

For instance, in DAO Warden ends up with the mission to save Ferelden because there is nobody else. The King is dead, their Grey Warden mentor is dead, everyone is too busy playing politics - and the Warden just happened to survive. However, at the same time, they also have stakes of their own. They all have their reasons to go on, to do all that:

Cousland: "I will find and kill Howe for what he did to my family"

Aeducan: "I will take back my throne from my traitor brother"

Tabris: "If darkspawn reach Denerim, nobody will bother to protect the Alienage, so I must do my best for Shianni and all the people there" // "I will kill every fucking shem in my way and I'm not letting the Blight take it from me"

Mahariel: "I lost my best friend to the taint and I almost died myself. I must make sure my people are safe from it, whatever it takes."

Amell: "I narrowly avoided the Rite of Tranquility in my own Circle and there is no place for me anywhere else, so I better get used to this Grey Warden thing" // "Fuck yeah! I got my freedom and no templars, no darkspawn will ruin it for me!"

Surana: "I narrowly avoided the Rite of Tranquility in my own Circle and there is no place for me anywhere else because I am a mage and as an elf I have slim chances of not being harassed in the first place. I really need to make this Grey Warden thing work."

Brosca: "I didn't survive this long just to die here. I will keep climbing out of this pit and nobody will ever look down on me"

These reasons make the Warden more than just a placeholder for team leader - they make the Warden a person with their unique struggles, motivations, and experiences.

In DAI, the Inquisitor is less detailed, but they are put in a unique situation - they have The Thing in their hand and now people think they're the Messiah. Also, the local Pope is dead, there is a gaping hole in the sky and people are losing their shit, and The Thing seems to be the key to dealing with all of that, so the Inquisitor literally has to be the leader.

(Let's ignore the fact that the Inquisitor is also appointed the leader because they can be conveniently turned into a scapegoat for the enraged mob should something go wrong.)

The Inquisitor can be a fierce believer committed to the cause. They can be a reluctant leader and a loud non-believer, but their motivation is clear: I'm dealing with this shit not just because it threatens the world, but also it affected me personally.

Rook, however? They lack that nuance and range. They join Varric behind the scenes for no other reason than "cuz saving our planet is a thing to do!". Moreover, somehow they instantly buy Varric's story that must sound like some tinfoil hat level insanity:

"Alright, so elven gods are real and one of them is hanging around right now and he wants to explode the Veil and drown the word in demons. Wanna join me and stop him? It'll be fun. Yeah, he is literally a god who can kill you in your sleep and you're the only person I've recruited so far, I think our odds are good."

After all, in DAO the darkspawn threat is obvious and very hard to ignore: Mahariel gets the firsthand experience, Aeducan and Brosca' city is literally under constant threat, and the rest of Wardens get a glimpse of what the darkspawn will do to Ferelden in Orzammar. There is no denying the necessity to fight them. But Solas, though? He is subtle. Racism and prejudice against elves play in his favor. The only people who understand the threat are the ones he revealed his secret to.

So, why does Rook join Varric without a shadow of doubt, especially if they aren't even exiled from their faction (more like asked to take a break)? They obviously has a place to return to and things to do, why get yourself involved?

In other words, Rook lacks personal reasons and deeper motivation to go after Solas, which makes them look inauthentic and awkward (even though they're supposed to be capable and skilled) because there is no essence to their interactions.

Moreover, there could be reasons.

Maybe, they lost someone due to Solas' machinations and actions, they realized that there was something mysterious about the tragedy and felt like they were going insane until they crossed paths with Varric who gave them answers.

Maybe they got framed by Solas' spies and lost their place in their faction, their political status, everything - so they literally have no other option but to start beef with a literal god.

Maybe they were one of the slaves freed by Solas' agents but realized that he expects them to die for him now, which rubbed them the wrong way.

It is a compelling reason: to find the mysterious and supposedly powerful being, to be able to thwart its scheming, to ask "Remember me?" right in their face or to demand answers. It's a powerful motivation to keep going, to gather allies and work with people. It would have even made Solas getting stuck in Rook's head more impactful and allowed for more personal and sharper conversations.

In fact, now I think that if Rook got absolutely wrecked due to Solas actions (as a collateral damage) and became a down on their luck depressed mess or a restless seeker of answers putting themselves into dangerous situations, it would have made for a much more protagonist.

What’s really jumping out at me on my second playthrough is that the writers of the first three games understood that your character was the main character. The Veilguard writers clearly thought that the main characters were their characters, the companions.

Every scene is about setting the companions up as cool or competent or sympathetic. Often, this is done at Rook’s expense. The companions get all the witty one-liners; Rook’s attempts at humor not only frequently fall flat, but are frequently called out for falling flat (even when they’re completely automatic and the player has no say in them).

The companions have all the knowledge and skills; Rook just brought them all together and gives them all pep talks so they can focus. I’m trying to edit out all of the comments where Rook is like “Um… what????” from my videos, and let me tell you, it takes WORK. There are A LOT of them. I can count on one hand the number of times when the Inquisitor or Hawke comes across as dumb, but it seems to be a built-in, unavoidable part of Rook’s character. I have not selected a single “purple” option in all of Act 1, and Rook is still coming across as the kid who tries to be the class clown to cover for the fact that he’s always confused. Rook’s role in most scenes is to say “Uhhh… what?” so that the companions look smart.

Rook is always the one offering sympathy and never the one getting it. No one actually comes to comfort you after Varric’s death. No one asks you how you’re feeling about having to lead the team now that Varric is gone. No one tries to reassure you or give you advice for dealing with the trickster god haunting your dreams. We’re told that Neve could keep Solas out of your head, but she never actually offers to do this for you. No one comforts a Shadow Dragon Rook when Minrathous is destroyed or a Grey Warden Rook when Weisshaupt is destroyed. Rook’s problems don’t matter. Only the problems of main characters matter.

Rook is a secondary character in their own story.

[youvebeengalindafied]

This is all @polyarmy and @fiyeroba ‘s fault for making me sad about Glinda again so now I’m posting my whole Glinda Meta here (originally an obnoxiously long dm sent to @gamorahww who is a patient saint)

You’ve asked for it, and now you get……The Glinda Meta™

First: I have been obsessed w/ Glinda's character for like 15 years. She is my roman empire. But I also really LIKE her as a flawed character - something that the fandom has always seemed to be a little uncomfortable with.

She is, to me, what Jane Austen once wrote about Emma:

“I am going to write a heroine whom no one but myself will much like.”

Full meta character analysis under the cut. Uh. Strap in.

(This gets a lil long sorry, but PLEASE HEAR ME OUT -)

To me, the interesting thing is what actually - ACTUALLY - motivates Glinda to act the way she does is so much greater and deeper than a simple desire for success/fame/popularity.

Like obviously in literature/critique of narrative, we have this idea of protagonists vs supporting characters. Supporting characters might have philosophies or goals that drive them (think Nessa and Boq) but those philosophies and goals are usually not developed into self-contradictory nuance the way a protagonist's motivations are. They’re just facts about the character.

And in my option, a big problem in the wicked fandom is that everybody seems to treat Glinda as a supporting character whose motivations are easy to digest. To most fans, she's either the girlfriend who is there to support Elphaba's story by being "loving but conflicted." Or to critics she's entirely selfish and cruel (even as she's fun and interesting), and therefore a semi-antagonist

But if you step back and treat Glinda as a true antihero protagonist of Wicked (for the sake of the mental character study), you see that she's not actually motivated by love or popularity or even success....what drives her is desperation.

Glinda sees her world as a place that cannot be changed and will only work to destroy those who cannot correctly operate in it. And she is SO DESPERATE to avoid that. Elphaba's fate is actually her worst fear - she cannot break away from society and leap to a new fate, because she is the ultimate cynic who thinks there is no way that could possibly work. In fact, it's an enormous testament to her love (however you want to intepret that) of Elphaba that she's even willing to consider leaving during Defying Gravity. For a brief moment, her immense, incredible faith in Elphaba is almost enough to overcome her complete desperation to survive the horrible world she thinks she's in.

And that obviously means that she's not as noble as Elphaba or as brave as Fiyero as a character - she cannot make the choice to leave when both of them do at different points - but that's because she's the most "human" character in the story. Most people are not brave enough to become international terrorists, even in the face of great evil. We might join in a developed cause, but to knowingly walk towards what is likely one's death to change a system you know you’ll actually have very little effect on...that takes a very special kind of person. And while Glinda is a GOOD person, she is too much a cynic and too desperate to survive her crazy world to become that impossible standard of the Rebel or the Hero. She's just a flawed, scared girl, in circumstances she never dreamed she’d be in.

And then the craziest thing happens:

Rather than showing Glinda that she should have been brave and done what E and F did, the narrative instead goes and basically confirms all her darkest fears: Elphaba rebels...and her revolution fails, and Glinda loses her best friend to bitter hatred and insanity for most of Act 2. Fiyero decides to leave and do the right thing by going with Elphaba....and he is almost immediately murdered in a horrible, violent way as punishment for it. This can only reinforce for Glinda that the State/the System/the World is all-powerful, and she must bow to it.

But that's the most fascinating moment for her character, because the very moment she realizes the absolute overwhelming power of the system (March of the Witch Hunters) is also the very moment that chooses to die rather than perpetuating it. She leaves the City to approach Elphaba - whom Glinda thinks POSSIBLY WANTS TO KILL HER - and BEGS Elphaba to not die. Begs Elphaba to stop her self-sacrificial madness. Begs Elphaba to allow Glinda to sacrifice herself instead ("Then I'll go, I'll tell everybody the truth!" "No! They'll just turn against you!" "I DON'T CARE!" - this girl who is entirely motivated by survival is straight up throwing it all on the line ready to walk to her death at the hands of a mob with wide open, unblinking eyes)

And obviously, in doing so, she is making the same choice that Fiyero did earlier in the story, But the huge difference is that Fiyero is a classic case of a "dead from the beginning" character, and he does not have the same motivations as her. He starts as a nhilist already embracing death in Dancing Through Life and his character is not somebody who is desprate to survive - his character is driven by a desperation for a faith. And Elphaba (and her cause) is his faith that he happily martyrs himself for.

By contrast, Glinda is terrified of the system that is trying to kill her, and she is desperate to survive it. She sees the way it takes everything form her, again and again, destroying everything she loves - Elphaba, Fiyero, her own sense of goodness…

(And she is extremely genre-aware that she is in a tragedy: her world isn't fair, and she knows that Elphaba will fail. She knows this will all go wrong.)

But Glinda still has such strength of character that she - in the end - overcomes all of her fear, all of her weaknesses, and humbles herself at the pyre to join the people she loves so much in their fate. She both offers to die for Elphaba and she takes up Elphaba's work and dedicates her entire life to it, consequences be damned. And that comes from a place of ultimate love and goodness, despite all of her flaws and all the temptations dissuading her.

Because Glinda is not Elphaba or Fiyero - she isn't a starry-eyed optimistic rebel or a man with a obsessive, loving faith. She is just a girl. Just Emma. And she is extremely flawed, and has so many fears that push and pull at her in a way the other main characters do not experience. But despite being so painfully, humanly defective, her goodness allows her to do the right thing in the end.

tl;dr - the greatest thing about Glinda’s character is that she is flawed, and she is weak and makes all the wrong choices. But in the end, she humbles herself completely - to the point of offering her own life for Elphaba and taking the whole weight of the world on her shoulders despite all her fear - because she is ultimately good.

And thus in the end, she becomes the person that Elphaba so clearly sees her as throughout the story: good, caring, and able to make real change in the world. She will now try desperately to fully live up to Elphaba's incredible faith in her. And it's so heartbreaking and tragic, but also one of the best character arcs ever.

So I guess it's less "wants to stay safe in her bubble" and more "she sees no option other than to stay safe. The State/System is all-powerful and there is nothing she thinks she can do to change that. But the beauty of the character lies in her decision to step out of that bubble anyways."

—

BONUS: Glinda’s flaws in relation to her relationship with Elphaba

(Or why Gelphie is a devastating ship (romantically or not) but not in the way you think)

This section dedicated to the SJB/AA performance that just BREAKS ME.

Elphaba basically sees Glinda through some WILDLY rose-tinted glasses (which is just. such a fascinating insight into elphaba’s character). Which is why a good chunk of the fandom accepts it as fact that Glinda is ~not actually all that flawed~ or is somehow being forced to make the decisions she is (she is not. the narrative point of Fiyero’s character is to prove that lol)

Glinda is very much complicated and does make some truly terrible decisions. Elphaba just sees and believes the good in her, despite everything she does (because it’s also a fact of the story that - either platonically or romantically - she’s clearly a little in love with Glinda. (The passes she gives that girl…)). I don’t think her weird thing about Glinda is particularly rational, but it is undeniably all-consuming.

And that makes their relationship feel VERY human. Their flaws don't make them unworthy of each other’s love and respect and friendship. Elphaba's love of Glinda is pretty crazy in light of how much Glinda’s morals and choices differ from her own, but that’s the kind of love that real, sometimes illogical people have. Anybody trying to prove the logic or compatibility of the characters is kinda missing the point - it doesn’t make sense, and THAT’S how you know it’s love.

(Brief aside: similar to Elphaba’s obsession with Glinda, Fiyero is also irrationally obsessed with Elphaba. I mean, she kinda sucks at the whole revolution thing (she's trying!!) and he's clearly starry-eyed ignoring a LOT of her flaws lol. In contrast - for better or worse, Glinda does see Elphaba's flaws and calls them out, just as Elphaba sees Fiyero's flaws and calls him out. It’s a nice little circular relationship)

But…but….is it gay???

Sure. I think so - but I’m a lesbian who has shipped it since I was a preteen lol. But that’s also NOT THE POINT, and focusing on only the romantic angle of their relationship REALLY ignores just how layered and complex it is.

Taking off my squee shipping glasses for a minute: they’re fundamentally just two people in some version of an EXTREMELY intense relationship. I honestly think Glinda reads as a little terrified of how insanely intense her relationship is with Elphaba. She fears walking down that road and fully falling into that intense, all-consuming love. (And we literally learn why later through Fiyero’s ‘death’ and Elphaba’s insanity - love makes you do some crazy things, and Glinda can’t afford that in this world.)

Regardless of whether you interpret them romantically or not - it’s clear they’re very intense about each other and Glinda is very afraid that Elphaba is her weakness. Unfortunately, Elphaba is also her soulmate and the love of her life, and she’ll always come back again. That fact will ruin Glinda’s life in the end, but it will have been worth it for all the love that was there

[cath-lic]

I haven’t been sure what to do with myself lately. I was raised Catholic and I’m trans and my family is really accepting to an absurd degree. I felt God a few years ago and returned to the faith but my faith has faltered because I’m so unsure of everything and I struggle to feel like I belong anywhere. I don’t know for sure if God loves me even though I’m trans and bi. But I also am afraid of what happens next if God does love me anyway. I go to an accepting UCC church, but it’s not the same as a Catholic Church. I feel out of place there and I feel out of place at a Catholic Church. I want to be embrace both my transness and my Catholic heritage, but I always worry they are incomparable. That if I go to confessional I’d have to lie to a priest and say I’m not trans just so I don’t have to deal with them being unaccepting.

Im just scared and unable to act. Feeling God is one thing, figuring out what to do with that is insanely difficult and I don’t know if what im doing is right because God is rarely direct and only speaks to me in riddles and it makes me all confused and lost.

I don’t know what the point of this was, I just really need to get it out and say something. I feel like I can’t embrace my faith as much as I can’t rid myself of it. Knowing God has made life more complicated.

hi my sibling ❤️ i feel many of the same things.

i’m very happy to hear that your family accepts you. that is such a huge gift!

i can promise that god loves you, just as he loves each and every one of us. and that continues through each and every denomination—no matter what, we can all agree that god loves us (sometimes, we can feel, too much).

i know the feeling of not going to quite the right church. i’ve mentioned that i attend an Episcopalian church, and i also wish that there was a local Catholic church that i felt comfortable in.

it is really difficult being in such a tradition that prides itself on integrity and age, but uses this to justify maltreatment of those like ourselves. it is sincerely painful. sometimes you can lose yourself in mourning this.

to be honest, i don’t have much advice here. all i can tell you is that i know how you feel. so does god. this is one of the most important things to remember, for me: he suffers with us. as jesus, he struggled with god’s own vagueness, his own proximity.

faith doesn’t often make life easier—you walk a thorny and troubled road. but so do i. i’m here, walking this road, alongside you.

thank you for trusting me with this, my sibling. i will pray for you. i love you ❤️

[robbed-ghost]

“Damian isn’t ooc what are you talking aboutttt he’s only 14 and wants to trust his dad so badlyyyy guyssss don’t get upsettt” have you never read a comic with Damian in it in your life

[theoldkyokodied]

Uploading all my Tomgreg art at once from the past few week before season 4 hits, who knows in what kind of mental state i'm gonna be once it does :')

[xylatox]

Oh my goodness Letters of Yesterday has been released and I'm so excited to give my review!!

I know it's angst but my heart can't help but break after reading the first paragraph; I am dreading what is to come. Kai using Letters as a way to resist the curse I'm going to sob actually.

Their first interaction is so sweet wth :(( I love that it feels like they are in their own world and I appreciate how reader just sees Kai for who he is without any lingering pity, it's do cute:(((

I love that reader inevitably makes the first move to sit down next to Kai after weeks of the connection being there and neither doing anything about it.

“I’m not scared of forgetting,” he said, his voice shaking despite his best efforts to remain calm. “I’m scared of forgetting you.” This is so cute oh my gosh; I absolutely love reader's teasing response to Kai, gosh they are so cute your honor. And right after their cute moments the angst comes full force with the first sign of the curse 😞😞 It actually makes me so sad and anxious, I love tho that reader is able to turn around the situation and suggests getting matching bracelets:(

It hurts but is valid the way Kai reacts and decides to pull away; the fact that the inevitable can't be avoided, he decides to protect not only himself but reader from hurt aswell :(( I love that his response did not dissuade reader from confronting him as a result and even after finding out about the curse and why Kai reacted the way that he did, reader still wants to be there and even try breaking the curse because she loves and cares for him so much ugh

THE LETTER WTF😭😭 I feel like throwing up, you can hear the desperation and fear with each word Kai writes; how badly he doesn't want to lose her;-;-;

The angst goes further as we see the curse becoming worse and Kai being unable to remember more and more the memories you had together and even if he didn't remember you entirely, you still had a space in his heart that had such a big impact that aside from the presence of the curse he realized something else was missing, you. That, combined with finding the letter shows that even if the curse made him forget everything else, in his heart that love wasn't lost yet:((

My heart aches even more as reader reads the letters Kai wrote and her reaction breaks my heart. I love that, even after all that she reassures him and is determined to be there despite the pain they both will inevitably face

The way tears like actually welled up in my eyes when we see how much worse the curse is and how reader seems like a complete stranger. I literally have a pit in my stomach and bundle of anxiety after reading that. Reader showing Kai the letters as proof of their memories together, that brief moment where Kai is desperately grasping at that memory ugh😭

Reader's resilience to endure this kind of pain is insane too, like she loves him so much to go through that and even make new memories instead:((

For the ending paragraphs, more tears well up in my eyes and I'm genuinely in so much pain (I absolutely love angst) but I love that despite Kai not remembering he knows he needs reader. Reader loves him to the end oh my god.

I absolutely loved this, like, I love that despite everything and memories being lost due to the curse, both reader and Kai are trying and for Kai, he still feels the love he has for her even if his brain tells his differently without the memories to support it. It really was a bittersweet ending but I absolutely loved it; Rei you have done it once again :(♡

Letters of Yesterday | H.K

Pairing: cursed writer!hueningkai x fem artist!reader Genre: Angst, Slow-Burn, Bittersweet Ending

Summary: When love is as fragile as memory, Kai is cursed to forget everything—and everyone—he loves. No matter how deeply he feels, the magic erases him, leaving only blank pages where once there were memories. But Y/N refuses to give up, even when every day brings a new heartbreak. As she clings to the fleeting moments of their time together, she fights to keep their love alive, knowing that each day could be the last he remembers her.

In a cycle of forgotten smiles and vanished kisses, can love survive when memories are fleeting? Or will the price of holding on to Kai’s love be more than she can bear?

Word count: 9.1k

The curse had always been a part of Kai’s life, a shadow that loomed over him from the moment he understood the world. It was a dark family secret passed down from generation to generation—an affliction that claimed the memories of anyone he loved, but left the pain of their loss behind. His parents, distant and silent about it, had taught him to avoid forming attachments, to guard his heart. But the curse, no matter how much he tried to outrun it, was an inevitable fate. And in his heart, a part of him knew that one day, it would claim everything.

He was just a child when they told him. He remembered it vividly, his father’s voice trembling as he sat on the edge of Kai’s bed, explaining in hushed tones.

“Son, you have to understand… no one can escape this. It’s in our blood.”

Kai hadn’t understood at first, his childish mind unable to grasp the magnitude of what was being said. But as he grew older, the truth settled in like a weight on his chest.

The curse meant that Kai would forget everyone he loved. Every connection, every person who mattered would fade from his mind, erased as if they had never been there at all. And it wasn’t just the people who would disappear. Every feeling tied to them—the warmth of their smile, the sound of their laugh, the little things that made them irreplaceable—those would vanish too. The pain of losing them would remain, but the memories would slip through his fingers like sand, each loss more unbearable than the last.

It was a curse meant to keep him alone. And the more he thought about it, the more he understood how cruel it was. It stole memories, leaving only an ache. It was a life half-lived, a love half-loved.

But Kai couldn’t accept it.

From the moment he understood what the curse meant for him, Kai made a vow to himself. If he couldn’t hold on to the people he loved, then he would at least hold on to the memory of them. He would keep their faces alive in his mind, even if the details would fade. He would write them down, store them away like precious treasures.

He found an old wooden box one day, buried deep in the attic, and from then on, it became his ritual. Every time someone new entered his life, every time he felt his heart begin to open, Kai would write them a letter. Not just any letter, but one filled with the things he loved most about them—the way their voice sounded, the warmth of their touch, the way they made him feel safe and understood. He wrote down the moments that mattered most, as if they were the last ones he would ever have.

The box became his sanctuary, the one place where his memories could live on, even when his mind betrayed him. No one could open it but him. It was a fragile system, but it was all he had. The curse would take everything else. But the letters—those letters were his resistance.

And yet, as he sat there, writing another letter one evening, the weight of the curse pressed down on him harder than ever. The curse wasn’t just something that hovered on the horizon. It was here, now, in every moment. Every smile, every touch, every laugh, every tear. Kai knew that one day, all of it would fade away. He would forget. And the thought of it hurt more than he could bear.

It was a rainy afternoon when Kai first saw you. The kind of day that blurred the edges of the world, making everything feel like a memory that was already slipping away. You were sitting at the corner of a small café, your sketchbook open in front of you, completely absorbed in your art. The soft glow from the lamps above illuminated your figure, its warm and golden light a stark contrast to the dull and gray world around you.

Kai had never been a fan of crowded places, but on this particular day, he had no choice but to seek refuge inside. His footsteps echoed in the quiet café as he entered, shaking off the rain that clung to his coat. His gaze, as if pulled by a magnetic force, drifted to you.

You didn’t notice him at first, too focused on your drawing. Kai wasn’t sure what exactly it was that drew him in—the way your brow furrowed in concentration, the way your lips parted slightly as you hummed a soft tune to yourself, or the faintest trace of something wistful in your eyes when you paused to stare out the window.

But there was something. Something that made him pause, make a slow approach to the counter, his heart inexplicably racing.

The barista handed him his coffee with a polite smile, and Kai turned back to look at you. This time, you caught him staring.

“Can I help you with something?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, your eyes locking with his.

For a moment, Kai forgot how to breathe. He wasn’t used to this—being caught, being seen in such an open way. His eyes flickered downward, and he mumbled something about the weather before retreating to the farthest corner of the café, leaving you with a small smile on your face.

You didn’t press him, but something about his presence lingered in the air, as if he carried an invisible weight that tugged at your curiosity. Throughout the next few hours, as the rain continued to pour and the café filled with the soft hum of conversations and clinking mugs, you noticed him again and again—sitting, always with his notebook in front of him but never really writing, always distracted by something. You had no idea why, but there was an undeniable sadness about him, something hidden in the way his gaze would occasionally drift to your direction, only to quickly retreat when you looked back.

When you stood to leave, gathering your things and preparing to step out into the rain once more, Kai stood up too. It was impulsive, but something inside him urged him to speak.

“You... you’re an artist, aren’t you?” The words felt clumsy as they left his mouth. He winced inwardly, wondering why he was even talking to you. It wasn’t as if he could afford to form attachments, not with the curse always hanging over his head.

You smiled, a small, knowing smile that hinted at a playful kind of mystery. “Yes. And you?”

Kai hesitated, feeling the weight of his own silence, the years of solitude pressing down on him. But there was something about you—something about the way you didn’t look at him with pity or indifference. You simply saw him, in a way that few people ever had.

“I... write,” he replied. It was the simplest way to put it, though it felt like an understatement. His notebooks, filled with letters to himself, weren’t just a hobby—they were a lifeline.

You nodded, clearly intrigued. “What do you write about?”

The question caught him off guard. No one had ever asked him about his writing before, not in such an open, genuine way. He shifted uncomfortably. He couldn’t tell you the truth. The letters weren’t meant to be shared. They were his secret, his private attempt to defy the curse that was slowly erasing him.

But still, something about you made him want to open up, to share.

“I... write about memories,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “About the things I want to remember. Even if I can’t.”

Your expression softened. “That sounds beautiful. I think everyone should write about the things they want to hold on to.”

Kai blinked, unsure of what to say. The words you spoke felt like a rare gift, a balm to a wound he hadn’t known how to address. He gave a small nod, more to himself than to you, before pushing open the door and stepping into the rain.

He never expected that brief encounter to change anything, but as he walked away, something shifted. The world felt just a little brighter, despite the persistent drizzle, and Kai found himself thinking about you in a way that felt... strange. The feeling was unfamiliar, like a forgotten dream drifting back to the surface.

And he knew, deep down, that he would see you again. That somehow, this brief moment had already begun to matter.

As the days passed, Kai found himself returning to that café more often than he ever had before. Each time, his steps led him to the same corner where you sat, sketchbook open, lost in your art. And each time, he couldn’t help but watch, his heart inexplicably drawn to the way you moved—so effortlessly, so naturally, as if you existed in a world of your own making.

It became a routine: the café, your art, and the growing, unspoken connection between the two of you. You never asked more of him than he was willing to give, and that was both a relief and a burden. He found solace in your presence, even if his mind never stopped warning him that it would all be fleeting, that he would forget you, just as he had forgotten so many others before.

One afternoon, after weeks of these quiet meetings, you sat down beside him with a cup of tea, your sketchbook resting on your lap.

“You’re always writing,” you remarked, your voice light but curious. “What is it you write about? You never share.”

Kai looked up, surprised by your bluntness, yet comforted by the familiarity of it. The way you spoke to him didn’t feel like an interrogation. It felt like an invitation, like you truly wanted to understand him.

“I write about people,” he said, his eyes flickering to the notebook in front of him. “People who matter. People I don’t want to forget.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Why wouldn’t you want to forget them? Seems like a burden, doesn’t it?”

Kai’s heart ached at the simplicity of your question, the innocence with which you asked. You couldn’t possibly understand the weight of what he was saying, the curse that hung over him like a specter.

“It’s... complicated,” he replied, his voice dropping to a whisper. “For me, it’s a way of holding on. Of not losing everything I love.”

You watched him for a long moment, then leaned forward slightly, your eyes filled with a quiet understanding. “You’re scared of forgetting, aren’t you?”

Kai’s breath caught in his throat. How did you—how could you—know?

“I’m not scared of forgetting,” he said, his voice shaking despite his best efforts to remain calm. “I’m scared of forgetting you.”

There. He had said it. The truth that had been sitting on the edge of his lips for so long. He knew the moment the words left his mouth that they were dangerous, but they felt so right—so necessary—that he couldn’t take them back.

You didn’t say anything at first, and Kai immediately regretted it, feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t expected. But then you smiled softly, the warmth of it a balm to his frayed nerves.

“I’ll make sure you don’t forget me,” you said, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes. “How about that?”

Kai’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. How could you promise something like that? How could anyone promise something so impossible?

But instead of answering, he simply nodded. In that moment, there was no room for anything else but the aching hope that maybe—just maybe—you could break through the wall he’d built around his heart.

Weeks passed, and every time Kai saw you, he found himself writing more. Letters, poems, short descriptions—anything to capture the fleeting moments he shared with you. You were becoming his muse, the light in his otherwise bleak existence. Each word he wrote felt like an anchor, something to hold on to when the curse eventually came for him.

But then, one day, it happened. The first sign that the curse was beginning to take hold.

Kai had been sitting across from you at the café, a letter halfway finished, when he looked up and caught sight of the bracelet you were wearing. It was delicate, silver, with a small charm hanging from it that caught the light. A gift, he realized, but not from him.

“Where did you get that?” Kai asked, his voice sounding distant even to his own ears.

You looked down at your wrist, then back up at him with a gentle smile. “You gave it to me. Remember? For my birthday. We picked it out together.”

His heart stuttered, a sharp pain shooting through his chest. His hands trembled as he reached up, as if he could touch the memory itself, but it wasn’t there. The details were gone, wiped clean from his mind like they’d never existed.

“I... I don’t remember,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

You paused, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the reality of what was happening hit Kai with full force.

“I’m sorry,” he added, his voice barely audible, a lump forming in his throat. “I don’t remember giving it to you.”

You said nothing at first, just looked at him with a sadness and confusion that made Kai’s chest tighten painfully. But then, you reached over and took his hand gently in yours, the touch warm and grounding.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “Everyone forgets things sometimes, it’s normal. Hell, I even forgot what I ate for breakfast yesterday.”

Kai wanted to believe you. He desperately wanted to believe you. But the fear gnawed at him from the inside out, the creeping sense that everything was slipping away, piece by piece. The curse was real, and no matter how hard he tried, it would take everything from him in the end.

You stood up, then, the movement fluid, graceful, almost as if you were trying to pull him out of the dark thoughts that threatened to consume him. “Let’s go buy a new bracelet,” you said, a soft, encouraging smile on your lips. “We’ll pick something even more special, I’ll get you a matching one too, then I bet you won’t forget about it.”

And despite the crushing weight in his chest, despite the growing sense of dread, Kai followed you. For the first time in a long while, he let himself hope. Even if it was fleeting. Even if the curse would one day steal this moment too, he would hold on to it for as long as he could.

The days following the incident with the bracelet were a whirlwind of confusion and emotions. Kai’s fears—those deep, gnawing fears about the curse—had started to consume him. The more he tried to push them down, the more they clawed at his insides, demanding attention, reminding him that no matter how much he wanted to keep you in his life, it would never last. Not for long.

And so, he began to pull away.

It started small—his messages became less frequent, the invitations to hang out became few and far between. Kai was careful, though. He didn’t want you to feel abandoned, didn’t want you to think he didn’t care. But deep down, he believed that pulling away was the only way to protect you. The curse would take him eventually, it always did, and if he let you get too close, you would be hurt. That was a certainty he couldn’t avoid.

You, however, weren’t so easily deterred.

After a week of silence, when you hadn’t seen him at the café or heard from him at all, you decided to confront him. You knew something was wrong, and no amount of pretending on his part could hide it from you.

When you showed up at his apartment that evening, he was sitting by the window, staring out at the city below, lost in thought. His face was shadowed, unreadable. The air between you was thick with the weight of unsaid words.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” you asked, your voice steady but full of concern. “I’ve been trying to reach you. You’ve been shutting me out.”

Kai didn’t look at you right away. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers gripping the edge of the windowsill. He knew the moment you entered that room that you would ask him this question. He just didn’t know how to answer it.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he finally said, his voice quiet, barely audible. “I care about you too much to keep dragging you into this... into my mess.”

The words hit you like a physical blow, but you didn’t flinch. Instead, you walked over and sat beside him, refusing to back down. “I don’t care about your mess, Kai. I care about you.”

He let out a breath, frustration leaking through his voice. “You don’t understand. You can’t. The curse… it’s not something you can just fix.”

You tilted your head, refusing to let him push you away. “Then explain it to me,” you said softly. “What curse? What is it you’re so afraid of?”

For a long moment, Kai said nothing. His heart raced in his chest, torn between the overwhelming urge to push you away and the undeniable need to finally tell you everything. Slowly, his eyes met yours, filled with pain and regret.

“I… I forget people,” he whispered, the words seeming too heavy to speak. “The people I love… I forget them. Over and over again. Every time I get too close to someone, the curse takes them away from me. And it’s not just them I forget. It’s everything. Everything that ever mattered.”

You blinked in confusion, not fully understanding the weight of his words. “You forget them?”

“Not just memories,” he continued, his voice strained. “I forget who they are. I forget their faces. I forget their names. And when I do remember, it’s always too late. By then, they’re already gone.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to process what he was saying. “That’s… that’s horrible,” you whispered. “But why didn’t you tell me sooner? You’ve been pushing me away, Kai. I deserve to know.”

“I didn’t want you to stay out of pity,” he said bitterly, his hands gripping the edge of the windowsill until his knuckles turned white. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to fix me. I don’t want to be fixed. But I know that in the end, I’ll forget you. Just like everyone else.”

You reached out, taking his trembling hand into yours. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said firmly. “You don’t have to go through this alone. If there’s a way to break this curse, we’ll find it together.”

Kai looked up at you, tears welling in his eyes despite his attempts to hold them back. His heart ached, his mind screamed at him to push you away, but your words—your warmth—pulled him closer. For the first time in a long while, he felt something other than fear. It was a glimmer of hope.

You stayed with him that night, and the nights that followed. The two of you spent hours researching, diving into old books, talking to anyone who might have any knowledge of curses or memory loss. You scoured libraries, read through ancient texts, and even sought out experts, but time and again, you found nothing. The curse was a mystery, an enigma with no solution.

As the days passed, Kai’s fear only deepened. Every time he looked at you, every time he spoke to you, he was struck by the reality of what he might lose. But there you were, right beside him, holding his hand and refusing to let go. You wouldn’t leave him, not now.

It broke his heart to know that no matter how much he wanted to hold on to you, the curse would eventually take you from him. It was a truth he couldn’t escape.

Kai sat in the dim light of his apartment, the silence around him suffocating. The evening air was thick, carrying the scent of rain that had begun to fall outside. He hadn’t even realized how much time had passed, lost in his thoughts, paralyzed by the very thing he had been avoiding for months. His heart ached, not from the curse itself, but from the realization that the love he had for you was only going to be temporary.

It was as if his very existence had been rewritten to fade, just like his memories. The curse forced him to forget everyone he loved. Over and over again, he lost people, but the pain was always there, gnawing at him. Every time it happened, every time someone slipped through his fingers, the weight of that loss only grew heavier. He had been fine with it before. At least he thought he had been. After all, what choice did he have? But now… now that you were here, now that you were so important to him, the thought of losing you completely shattered him in ways he could never have imagined.

Kai stared down at the crumpled paper before him, the ink of his pen smeared slightly as his hands trembled. His thoughts were a mess, disjointed and desperate, the reality of his situation becoming clear in the most painful way possible. He could never confess his feelings to you. He couldn’t do that to you. The curse would take away his love, his memory of you, everything. And if he told you—if he allowed himself to truly love you—then when the curse took its toll, it would tear both of them apart. You’d be left with nothing but the broken pieces of a love that wasn’t meant to last.

And yet, he couldn’t stop the flood of emotions that overwhelmed him. Every time he saw you, every time you smiled, every time you laughed, it felt like his heart had a reason to beat again. But this was a fleeting joy. He couldn’t hold onto it. He couldn’t let you become the next casualty of his curse.

Kai took a deep breath, wiping his eyes before picking up the pen again. He wrote, not with the intention of ever showing it to you, but for himself. Maybe if he could put his feelings into words, they would somehow become more manageable. Maybe he could come to terms with this loss before it even happened.

"To my future self,

If you're reading this, then you’ve already lost her.

I don't know how, but I know it will happen. This curse... this cruel curse will erase everything, just like it always has. You won't remember her face. You won’t remember the sound of her voice, the way she laughs, or the way she makes you feel like you’ve finally found home. You won’t remember how her presence makes you feel alive, how she has this way of looking at you, this unspoken understanding, like you’re the only two people in the world.

But I need you to remember this—remember what it felt like to love her, even if you can’t remember her name. Remember the warmth of her touch, the kindness in her eyes. Hold onto that, no matter how much the memories fade.

You may not be able to hold onto her physically, but don’t let her slip completely. Don't forget how much you loved her, even if she doesn't exist in your mind anymore. You will lose everything. You will lose her. But don’t forget this: she was everything.

Please, don’t let her go, even if the curse makes you forget how much you care. She deserves better. She deserves all the love we had to give, and more. You’ll be broken when it happens. But I need you to remember… I need you to keep that love, even when you can’t feel it anymore.

I’m begging you, don’t let her leave. She’s worth every broken piece of us."

The ink dried on the paper as Kai folded the letter carefully, almost reverently, before placing it in the box with all the others. His chest was tight, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. There was no way to stop what was coming. He couldn’t protect you from the curse, no matter how much he wanted to. The pain of forgetting you—of forgetting the very essence of you—would be unbearable.

And yet, in the quiet of his room, surrounded by the evidence of his love for you, Kai felt as if he had already lost you. The letter he had written wasn’t just a plea—it was a desperate hope. A hope that, even if he couldn’t remember you, his future self would somehow carry the weight of this love with him, and that love would be enough, even in its broken state.

But deep down, he knew it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

As he laid down that night, the letter still fresh in his mind, he thought of you. He thought of your smile, of the way your hand fit perfectly in his, of the way you had slowly, gently, found your way into his heart. He didn’t want to forget you. He didn’t want to lose you.

But he knew it was inevitable.

And that was the hardest part.

The weeks had passed in a blur for Kai. The curse, as inevitable as it was painful, seemed to be growing stronger by the day. What had once been fleeting moments of forgotten details—small things like where he left his jacket or the name of a book he had been reading—had now become unsettling, disorienting waves. It was like a fog had settled into his mind, blotting out the things that mattered most.

Kai felt it creeping in, like a cold hand around his heart. The things he cherished, the people he loved—they were beginning to fade. The memories were no longer his own to keep. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how desperately he clung to them, they slipped away. And with each passing day, the pain of losing you became more unbearable.

One evening, as he sat at his kitchen table, the candlelight flickering on the surface, he felt a chill run through him. It wasn’t just the curse this time. No, it was something deeper, more overwhelming. It was you—your absence.

He stared down at the photo of the two of you together on the table, trying to place the memories, but they were slipping further from his grasp. He had forgotten the little things first: your favorite color, the way you liked your coffee, the sound of your laughter when you told a joke. Then, he began to forget the bigger moments: the way you first met, the promises you made to each other, even the quiet, tender moments when he had held you close.

But it wasn’t just the memories. It was you. He couldn’t remember your name. Turning the photo around, he sees your name, written in black ink next to his. Kai + Y/N = Besties Forever

“Y/N…” He whispered the name, as though testing it, hoping it would spark something inside him, but it didn’t. It felt distant, like a word he had once known but had now lost to time.

His breath hitched in his chest. "Who are you?" he thought, panic rising in his throat. "What am I forgetting?"

The panic swelled, drowning him in a deep, dark abyss. He grabbed the first thing he could find—one of the letters he had written to himself, one of the hundreds that were stored away in the box. He tore it open and began to read, his eyes scanning the words, the familiar handwriting that had once been his lifeline.

"Don’t let her leave. She’s worth every broken piece of us."

Kai’s chest tightened painfully as he read those words. His fingers trembled, the letter shaking in his hands. The words meant so much more now, piercing through the fog in his mind. They were a plea, a desperate cry from a future self who had already forgotten everything, everything that mattered to him.

“I love her.” The realization hit him like a wave, as if the memory of loving you had been hidden beneath layers of fog, waiting for this moment to break free. His heart ached with the weight of the truth. He loved you, but he couldn’t hold onto it. Not like this.

His tears blurred the ink on the page as he sank back into his chair, gasping for air. He clutched the letter tightly to his chest, like it could somehow save him from the pain. I love you, he thought again, the words so simple, so impossible. He couldn’t remember your face, your smile, the sound of your voice—but somehow, he still loved you.

The curse had taken everything from him, but it hadn’t taken his heart. At least, not yet.

The morning air was still, a fragile quiet hanging in the apartment as you waited for Kai to return from his errand. You had been visiting him more often lately, bringing him meals or simply sitting in the same room, offering a quiet comfort. The curse had taken its toll on both of you, and yet, in small moments, there was still some semblance of peace when you were together. Even in the face of the ever-growing loss, there was something deeply intimate about those moments—something you clung to.

You had arrived early that morning, hoping to surprise him with his favorite breakfast. As you set the table, you noticed something odd—a box hidden under the desk, tucked just out of sight. It wasn’t like Kai to leave things around like that, especially something so carefully concealed. Curiosity gnawed at you, and though you knew better, you couldn’t help but reach for it.

The box was heavier than you expected, the paper crinkling in your hands as you carefully lifted the lid. Inside, there were stacks of letters—neatly folded, each one dated, with Kai’s familiar handwriting on the front. Your fingers trembled as you pulled one out and read the first few lines.

At first, you thought they were just musings, idle thoughts that Kai often jotted down when he was alone. But as you continued reading, the words began to take shape, and with each sentence, the gravity of the situation became clearer. These were more than just thoughts. These were confessions.

Each letter was written to his future self—something you hadn’t known he had done. You had always known that Kai was a private person, but this—this was something else. He had been writing to himself, preserving pieces of his soul, just in case he lost them. The first few letters spoke of his growing fears, how the curse had begun to erode his memory in small, almost imperceptible ways. But with each passing letter, the tone changed. The fear turned into desperation. And there it was, one of the lines that took your breath away:

"She’s worth every broken piece of us."

The words swirled around in your mind, resonating with a pain that you hadn’t expected. You had known for a while that Kai was struggling with something—his slow drift into forgetfulness, the moments when he would lose himself completely in confusion. But you hadn’t realized just how much it had consumed him.

He had been fighting the curse, not only for himself, but for you. The love you shared had been slipping through his fingers, and yet he had been holding onto it, with every letter, with every desperate plea to himself.

Tears began to gather at the corners of your eyes. You wiped them away quickly, afraid to let them fall, but they came anyway. You couldn’t stop them. The depth of his feelings—the pain in his words—it all crashed over you. Kai loved you. And he had known, for all this time, that he wouldn’t be able to hold onto that love forever. But he had fought for it anyway, and in doing so, he had written to you, to himself, to anyone who might find the truth of his heart.

You picked up another letter, your heart aching with every word, and you read on. Each letter, each plea, each confession painted a picture of a man who loved deeply and was terrified of what was happening to him. He wrote about you, about the moments you shared, about how the curse had stolen everything but the love he felt for you. And in that love, he was still holding on.

As you read, the air around you seemed to thicken, the weight of the letters pressing down on your chest. The realization hit you like a wave—the man you loved, the man who had slowly become a stranger to you, had always known what was happening. He had always known that one day, he would forget you. But even with that knowledge, he had continued to love you with everything he had.

You sank to the floor, clutching the letters to your chest. You had always been the one to be strong for him, to offer him comfort when he needed it most, but now—now you were the one who felt lost. How could you ever show him how much these letters meant to you? How could you ever explain that even in his forgetfulness, even as the curse took more of him away, you would never stop loving him?

A sharp, painful sob escaped you, breaking the stillness of the room. You couldn’t hold it back any longer. The heartbreak of seeing his love, his anguish, all laid out in front of you—it was too much. Kai was fading, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

“He’s fighting so hard,” you thought, your chest tight with sorrow. “But I don’t know if I’m strong enough to fight this with him.”

But even through the pain, something in you refused to give up. You couldn’t let the love that Kai had so desperately held onto slip through your fingers. You couldn’t turn your back on him now—not when he needed you the most.

The sound of the front door opening made you jump, and you quickly wiped away your tears. Kai stood in the doorway, his eyes searching the room, his gaze landing on you.

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice quiet, unsure. "What’s going on?"

You stood up slowly, still holding the letters in your hands. You didn’t know what to say. The words felt like they were lodged in your throat, too heavy to escape. But in that moment, you realized that the letters weren’t just about Kai's love—they were about hope. They were about a future he wished for but feared he wouldn’t be able to reach. And you would fight with him to make sure that love, that hope, didn’t fade along with the memories.

You looked up at him, a shaky breath leaving your lips. “I found something,” you said, your voice faltering, but firm. “I found your letters.”

Kai froze, his face a mixture of surprise and guilt. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“I know,” you whispered, your heart breaking all over again. "I know you’ve been writing to yourself. I know everything, Kai."

His gaze softened, and a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in weeks flickered across his face. The weight of your words hung between you like a thread, fragile and delicate.

“You’re not alone in this,” you said, taking a step toward him. “I’ll be here, even when you forget. I’ll help you remember. I promise.”

And in that moment, you both understood: no matter how much Kai’s memories faded, no matter how many pieces of him were lost, you would fight for him. You would fight for the love that still lingered between you—because that love, despite everything, was worth it.

The day you had been dreading arrived. You woke up with a sense of heaviness in your chest, knowing that the curse had slowly been taking more from Kai. His memory was fading, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The letters you had found the day before had only confirmed what you already feared. But you still hoped—hoped that maybe today, Kai would remember you.

When you arrived at his apartment that afternoon, you were met with a strange silence. Normally, Kai would greet you with that small smile, maybe a joke about how you always showed up with something for him to eat. But today, there was nothing. The door was slightly ajar, and as you entered, you found him sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the wall.

“Hey,” you said softly, stepping closer.

Kai looked up at you, but there was no recognition in his eyes. His gaze was distant, clouded with confusion.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice flat, almost disinterested. “Why are you here?”

A chill ran through you, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. It was like a punch to the gut, the way he looked at you like a stranger.

“Kai, it’s me… Y/N,” you said, your voice trembling. “You know me. Please… you have to remember.”

His brow furrowed as he stood up, taking a few steps back from you. “I don’t know you,” he said, his voice growing more firm. “Whoever you are, I don’t want any trouble. If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.”

The words stung more than anything you had ever heard from him. The man you loved, the one who had once been your closest friend, was now a stranger to you.

Panic gripped your heart, but you forced yourself to stay calm. You couldn’t lose him—not like this. Not when you still had a chance to remind him of who he was, who you were together.

“No, no, please don’t do that,” you said, holding your hands out in a placating gesture. “Kai, please listen to me. You’re not well. You don’t remember, but we—we’ve been through so much together.” You took a hesitant step toward him, searching his face for any sign of recognition. “Please, let me show you.” You grabbed his wrist and brought it next to yours. Showing him the matching bracelet you had bought together for both of you. “We got this together. remember? We picked them out together. I convinced you to get matching ones with me, remember? Don’t you dare forget about this, I told you I made sure you wouldn’t forget”

You dropped his wrist, watching his eyes flicker as he looked at it. There was a slight shift in his expression, like he was trying to grasp something just out of reach, but the confusion still clouded his face.

“Kai, we got this to remind us both that no matter what, we were always together,” you said, your voice soft but desperate. “Every time you wore it, it was a promise. A promise that we would never forget each other.”

He held your wrist, his fingers brushing back and forth against the bracelet. There was a brief moment where you both stood there, the weight of the silence settling in. But then, he just stared at it, his face blank.

“I don’t… I don’t remember,” he whispered, his voice cracking. The words broke something inside of you, the final piece of hope crumbling.

You swallowed, pushing past the lump in your throat. “Please, Kai. Please try to remember.”

There was no answer, just the quiet hum of the room, as you realized you weren’t getting through to him. The frustration, the heartbreak, was unbearable. But you refused to give up. “I have something—something important.”

You quickly ran around the apartment, scrambling to find the box of letters you had discovered earlier. It felt like an eternity as you searched through the drawers, the cabinets, before finally finding them tucked away in the corner of his desk. You grabbed the box, clutching it tightly as you returned to him.

“Please,” you whispered, your hands shaking as you held the box in front of him. “You need to read these. They’ll help you remember. I’m not lying to you, Kai. I swear. These letters—they’re from you. They’re from your heart. You wrote them to yourself. You’ve always known what’s happening to you.”

He stared at the box for a moment, his expression unreadable. Slowly, he took it from your hands, but his confusion didn’t seem to lessen. He opened one of the letters, scanning the words with a furrowed brow.

“‘Don’t let them leave,’” he read aloud, his voice shaky. “‘They’re worth every broken piece of us.’” His voice faltered as he looked up at you, his face clouded with sorrow. “What does this mean?”

You swallowed, your heart aching with each passing second. “It means that you loved me,” you said, your voice breaking. “You still love me. Even if you don’t remember it, Kai—please, don’t forget.”

As he read more of the letters, the room grew silent except for the soft rustling of paper. And then, Kai’s composure finally broke. The letters slipped from his hands, and he sank to the floor, his face twisted in pain. Tears filled his eyes, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he was truly himself again—vulnerable, raw.

“I don’t want to forget,” he whispered, his voice shaking with emotion. “I don’t want to lose you… but it’s happening, isn’t it? Every day, I forget something. And the worst part is, I don’t even know if I’ll ever remember.”

You knelt down beside him, your hands gently reaching for his. “You will. We’ll find a way. I promise.”

But even as you spoke the words, you knew the truth—you didn’t know how much longer you could keep him from slipping away completely.

“Please don’t leave me,” he whispered, his voice so small, so fragile. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said firmly, your heart breaking for him. “I love you, Kai. And I’ll stay by your side, even if you forget me every single day. I’ll love you every time.”

The air between you was thick with the weight of your unspoken fears, but at that moment, there was nothing but love. Even in the face of everything, you couldn’t let him go. And neither could he.

The days that followed were a mixture of pain and small, precious moments of connection. Each time Kai forgot you, it was like losing him all over again. But each time, you reminded him of who you were, of the love you shared. Every morning, you greeted him with a soft smile, a quiet reassurance that you were still there, no matter how much he struggled to remember.

At first, it felt like an endless cycle. You would sit with him, gently telling stories of your past, hoping to jog his memory. You spoke of the first time you met, how you’d both been awkward, shy—how you had tried so hard to avoid that sudden, inexplicable pull toward each other. But something about him had always felt right, even in your early days of friendship. You reminded him of the long nights spent talking, the way you’d laughed until your stomachs hurt, how he had always been the one to help you when you needed it most.

And sometimes, when the silence between you grew heavy, you would find small ways to remind him—little touches, soft glances. You would let him trace the bracelet on your wrist, the one that matched his. The touch of his fingers against the metal, the way his hand would linger, gave you hope that maybe, just maybe, the memory of you would come back.

Kai had always been so different when he remembered. The walls he built up when he was lost in his confusion would crumble as soon as he recalled the way you had been there for him. You’d make him laugh, tell him ridiculous stories of your shared moments—those little inside jokes that only the two of you understood. You’d hold his hand as he laughed, feeling the warmth of him beside you, even if just for a fleeting moment.

There was a time, not long ago, when you sat down together on the couch after a long day. You started to tell him about the first time you painted together—how it had been messy, chaotic, but beautiful in its own way. He listened, still struggling to fully connect the pieces, but something in his eyes softened as he sat there, listening. You showed him the canvas you had both worked on, the colors that had splashed onto the surface, forming something that was imperfect but real.

“I don’t remember the first time we did this,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret. “But it sounds like something I would do.”

“You did,” you smiled, brushing your fingers over the painting. “We painted together and had a competition to see who could make the most ridiculous art. You won, but only because you made that ridiculous purple whale.”

A laugh escaped him, though it was laced with uncertainty. “A purple whale?”

“Yeah. Don’t you remember? You were so proud of it. It was huge, and it had these big, exaggerated eyes.”

His lips tugged into the slightest of smiles, the first you had seen in days. “I don’t remember that,” he murmured, but then he paused, his eyes locking with yours. “But I want to.”

“You will,” you promised softly. “We’ll keep painting. We’ll make new memories, even if it takes a thousand tries.”

And so you did. You spent hours together, making more art, more chaos, more laughter. The process was slow, but with each stroke of the brush, each color added to the canvas, Kai seemed to relax, his heart opening in ways that felt familiar, even if it wasn’t entirely whole yet.

One evening, you brought out a guitar and began to strum softly. It was something you used to do together, a way of passing the time, of reconnecting when words felt too heavy. You started with a simple melody, something that didn’t need to be said—just music to fill the space between you. Kai watched, unsure at first, but slowly he joined in, tapping his fingers against his leg in rhythm, his voice uncertain but getting stronger as you continued.

“This is how we always did it, wasn’t it?” you asked as you played. “You and me—making up songs, telling stories through music.”

Kai nodded slowly, his voice soft. “Yeah. I think… I think I remember.”

You smiled at him, the warmth between you both growing stronger with each moment you spent rebuilding what had been broken. Even if he couldn’t remember everything, even if the curse kept trying to tear you apart, you refused to let go. And Kai—though he was still lost in the fog of his memories—was holding onto you as tightly as he could.

In the evenings, after the music stopped and the painting was done, you would sit together in the quiet, just holding each other. No words were needed. You knew that as long as you kept telling him stories, as long as you kept showing him the love that had always been there, there was hope. Even if it was fleeting, even if it was only for a moment, Kai was still there. And you would never give up on him.

With each passing day, the memories might fade again. But you were determined to keep creating new ones. And when those old memories returned, you would be waiting, just as you always had been.

Even if it meant starting over each time, you were never going to let him forget that you loved him, and you always would.

Months had passed since the curse had first started, and in that time, you and Kai had settled into a fragile rhythm. There were good days—days where the fog in his mind seemed to lift just enough for him to remember fleeting moments, bits of laughter shared between you, the warmth of his hand in yours. But there were also bad days, where he looked at you with blank eyes, a stranger to him once again. Despite it all, you stayed.

Now, you lived together, sharing a space that once felt like a sanctuary but now held an undertone of pain. It was a daily battle, a fight to keep the love alive when it was constantly slipping away. But you couldn’t give up—not when he was fighting too, even if he didn’t fully understand why.

This morning, like every other, you woke before sunrise. The house was still, save for the soft sound of Kai’s breathing as he slept beside you. It was a routine at this point, you moved quietly, careful not to wake him, and grabbed your notebook from the nightstand. This had become a routine for you—to document the days, the moments you shared, the love you held onto so fiercely.

As you wrote, the words felt both familiar and painful. Yesterday had been one of those rare, beautiful days where Kai had laughed freely. You had baked cookies together, the kitchen a mess of flour and sugar, but neither of you had cared. You remembered the way his eyes had crinkled at the corners when he caught the flour on your nose, how he’d leaned over and kissed it off with a soft laugh. For a moment, you had forgotten the curse, forgotten the weight of everything that was slipping away.

But as always, reality crept back in.

You wrote, “Yesterday, you looked at me and smiled, like I wasn’t a stranger. Like we hadn’t been through this over and over again. I wish I could tell you that today would be different—that the curse will lift, and you will remember me completely.”

You paused, the words heavy in your chest. There was so much you wanted to say, but the pain of it all made it difficult. You ended the note with a final line, one you’ve written countless of time yet still feels like it had been ripped from your very soul: "Even when you forget me again, I will still love you with everything I have, Kai. I just wish you could remember that."

You placed the notebook carefully on the bedside table, leaving it open to the page you’d just written. With a quiet sigh, you climbed back under the covers and curled up beside Kai, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You closed your eyes, trying to quiet the whirlwind in your mind, but the ache in your heart remained. It was always there, even in the moments when you were together.

Kai woke slowly, the soft light of the morning creeping into the room. He turned his head toward you, his brow furrowing as he saw your sleeping form next to him. For a moment, he simply stared at you, his mind a blur of confusion. He had no memory of the night before, no recollection of who you were in that moment. The curse had taken another piece of him, and for the thousandth time, he didn’t know you.

The room felt empty despite your presence, as if a vital part of him was missing. His eyes fell on the open notebook beside him. He reached for it, his fingers trembling slightly as he read the words. His heart pounded in his chest as he read through your description of the day, your laugh, your love. His breath caught when he read the last line, the raw emotion that poured from it. He felt something shift inside him, an overwhelming sorrow and recognition that he couldn’t fully grasp.

He looked back at you, lying peacefully next to him, and something in his chest broke. He didn’t remember all of it, but he knew, in that moment, that you were everything to him. His confusion swirled with a deep, aching emptiness. He couldn’t recall how he had fallen in love with you, but he felt it now—so painfully, so deeply.

Without thinking, Kai slid closer to you, the vulnerability in his eyes clearer than ever. He gently pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair, holding onto you as if you were the one thing in the world that mattered. You stirred in his arms, and without even realizing it, you clung to him, your own tears threatening to fall.

You had always known the pain of his memory loss, the ache that came with seeing him forget you again and again. But this—this was something different. The rawness in his touch, the desperate need to hold you close, even though he had no idea who you were—it was more than you could bear. You whispered his name, your voice thick with emotion.

“Kai…”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours with confusion and pain. “I don’t know who you are,” he whispered, his voice raw. “But I... I know that I need you.”

Your heart clenched. You held him tighter, your tears silently falling as you pressed your cheek to his chest. “You’re not lost, Kai. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Despite the unfamiliarity, despite the confusion that still clouded his mind, Kai held you with everything he had. He didn’t understand what was happening or why his memories were slipping through his fingers like sand, but he knew one thing: you were his anchor. You were the one person who made sense in the chaos of his mind.

And for a moment, you allowed yourself to hope—hope that this time, no matter how many times he forgot you, you would never let go of him. Even if it meant living through the pain of his memory loss again and again, you would hold on. Because he was worth it. Every single time.

© all rights reserved ─ @gyu-tori 2025

Rei's Notes ✎: Tadaaa, another fic again this month, I hope this gave you the feels the same way it did for me while I was writing it. I had “Would you fall in love with me again” from epic the musical on repeat while writing this.

Thanks a lot to @beomiracles for beta reading part of this story!! Lots of love to her~ Not much else to say honestly, so I hope you enjoy and I'd love to hear your thoughts!!!

Taglist: @yunverie @dawngyu @hueningstar @hhoneyhan @immelissaaa @lovingbeomgyudayone @xylatox @soobabby @i-like-to-read-at-4am

[cometblaster2070]

so i'm going to go fucking insane because for a while this aspect of malenia's character design has been bothering me and making me think I'm seeing things and going fucking crazy.

the aspect in question is malenia's left arm:

when i first saw malenia's arm my first thought was oh okay they're probably just bandages or some sort of wraps.

but then you look a bit closer and like

idk about you (because i might be losing it) but it seems like the mesh of whatever the fuck that is very clearly melded with her skin in a way/it looks like it's going into and then emerging out of her skin (which is HORRIFYING to think of I won't lie).

and once again i thought i was going crazy and seeing things because surely these were just meant to be wraps or bandages like the ones we see in the scene of her fighting radahn right?

and then the thought of the needle came to my mind. along with something malenia says in her cutscene before we fight her.

"my flesh was dull gold"

huh. now isn't that interesting.

this would imply that in order to stall the rot from consuming his sister, miquella made a plan to sew unalloyed gold into malenia's skin using his needle in a last-ditch attempt to save her arm.

(granted it's funnier to imagine he just sticks it in her arm and goes okay great all done! and that's probably the canon way it went but)

the thought of the sheer pain malenia must've gone through during this process, to be honest, and the thought of the guilt miquella must've felt at having to force his sister to endure even more agony just to help her is just sad.

and all of it is done just in an attempt to salvage what they can of her and hope that more can't be taken.

edit: btw when looking at malenia pre-bloom and pre-losing her needle it looks like there's a proper layer/cover/whatever it is around her arm up till her knuckles making it seem like an actual covering or layer on top of her skin and what not, but when we fight her post-bloom and post-losing needle it appears like some of the layers have either flaked or fallen away and that reveals that it's actually meshed with/into her skin.

[katwasherehehe]

Now that arcane and epic ended…

I seriously need fortiche (The animation studio that brought life to arcane)

Release this

LIKE, IS THIS REAL

im legitimately so excited for this project

As a Greek mythology freak myself, an epic and arcane fan, i need to see this movie when it releases because I know for a fact that it’s going to be PEAK animation and cinema

[starsillys]

cringe Kinito pet oc time ok

I know there’s definitely other sea urchin Kinitopet ocs somewhere out. There and I probably should of expected that before hand but Aourhrrrgh this stupid thing has grown on me guys I’m crasy anywhay this is it this is earl urrm,m,, it’s scare activity thing is still in the works but the general idea is below 👇👇👇👇

Also liettol human concept because I’m a sucker for humanizing unhuman critters

huurrhhhhhgggghhhoufhhhh

[starxslvs]

[valentineveils]

man they werent lying astarion does look softer when he's lookin at romanced tav in act 3 . what the fuck man

[skunkes]

i may be stupid

[bastardbeewoman]

I still can't believe they made a whole episode to deal about how Kazuki needs to allow himself to move from a past love and past life and then one of thr very last scenes of the episode is him coming home and then the camera focus on Rei and it is simply the most lovestruck, heartwarming and tender expression we have ever seen him doing in the anime

[funsize-cenobites]

Mihawk-Brain-Eating-Syndrome has seized me.

The post that started this whole train of thought came from @manofbeskar who's Mihawk thoughts, Mishanks heartwrenchers, and absolutely gorgeous art are so inspiring I feel chewing-on-the-doorframe feral every time I check their blog.

Mihawk has a complicated relationship with vivre cards. Yet despite all efforts at keeping the world and everyone in it at Yoru length he still manages to keep collecting bits of them.

Not many nowadays, its a rather intimate affair after all; to have someone give you a literal piece of their life so that you may always find them no matter where in the wide seas you may be. Assuring that you'll be the first to know should they leave that world entirely.

Far too intimate. It feels too obvious, too heavy handed, too much like handing him your heart and asking him to carry it. Such a thing is heavier than any blade and all the bloody deeds he can never truly wipe from the steel.

Its gentle and vulnerable and human. All the things Mihawk is convinced he could play at but never truly be again. But... I imagine at the start of his journey, maybe he was a touch more open. Perhaps accepting his first from a mentor as a parting of ways though he didn't yet have one of his own to offer in return.

Strange how a simple piece of card in his palm could feel like an open door. Always there, inviting him home. Always there, until it wasn't.

Mihawk will never forget the first time he felt one burning away into nothing in his hands. It went up so quick.. He had no idea it could take less than a minute to burn a home.

Then perhaps he found a crew, a more tangible place to nest and he suddenly had more vivre cards than he could tuck away on his person in a timely manner. Perhaps it became a ritual of sorts each morning, a part of his routine to tuck each one away. The captain, vice captain, and the rest of the specialists lining the inner band of his hat while the rest of the crew were individually squirreled away. A meditation, grounding and quiet. He would use it to remind himself of his role as the crew's swordsman, as their protector.

How could he forget the sharp sear of each individual card burning away, stuck close to his skin by waterlogged clothing as he dragged himself ashore gasping and choking on sea and blood and smoke. Having been left by marines that assumed he would drown because- perhaps pointed out by one that had deceived him, made Mihawk believe they were his friend to be led back to his family:

"No freak like that could exist without having eaten the devil's fruit."

How could he forget the embers escaping, dancing in the evening gloam like fireflies swarming around him? There were so many.. now there are none and gods he's been so empty since. How could such a small piece of paper take so much of him? To kill a man with a blade, even butchering him inelegantly, would be a greater mercy so long as he was dead.

Nowadays Mihawk knows better. Knows better than to trust or be trusted. That blades might chip and tarnish but they dont burn, never completely.

Yoru hums and sings in his hands as he wields her and she does not feel like home.. but she feels solid and eternal and cold. She will never burn. Her weight is bearable.

Impersonal.

Professional.

Yoru makes death an art in his hands. She is the brush not the paper, spattering fireflies over a night sky.

. . .

For years after, he kept far from others. Deciding to never get so close to anyone ever again. Safe in the knowledge he would never feel the burning sting of loss nor the cold cut of betrayal so acutely. Trust was a double edged blade, perhaps the only one he truly couldn't handle.

He was no protector.. so he wouldn't try to be.

Instead Mihawk would hunt. Chasing the marines mercilessly. Cutting a bloody path through their ranks and burning their fucking fortresses to the ground. At first they spoke of him as an insane lone swordsman, then a one man army, then a monster, a demon. The relentless yellow eyed freak that stalked the seas and nightmares of future vice admirals.

He systematically killed all those that harmed him. A shadow over the shore, a rogue wave swallowing their ships, a curse of vengeance come to reap. He destroyed all the records of his crew that he could get his hands on. If he must be cursed to slowly forget them over time, then the world government didnt deserve their memory either.

And so on it went for a time. Long enough for the hunt to lose its luster. Slaughtering sheep by the herd in search of a rare wolf.

Mihawk had almost forcibly forgotten about Vivre cards as a concept. His own remained untouched, never moving from where he hid it. He had no friends, no family, no nakama. Only a dwindling list of worthy foes to test himself against.

Until the day the king of pirates died. Until their golden age truly began.

Until he met Shanks, who held out a hand and asked him to step out of the monochrome past and into a thousand possible vibrant futures. Ones of lush reds and glittering golds, of polished onyx black and the purest, deepest blue.

.

"Here," Shanks said suddenly one night, holding out a small scrap of paper. The both of them were perched atop the ruins of a high sea wall on some remote island, enjoying the cold breeze from the north after a hard fought duel.

Mihawk, for all his composure, blanched. "What is that?" He knew and he did not take it.

"What do you think it is? Its a piece of my card." He said it so simply. Like it barely occured to him how precious such a thing was. Shanks didn't drop his arm, even as the silence stretched out between them.

"No."

"Come on, Takanome- Dont be like that! We're nak--"

"Rivals." He cut the younger man off abruptly. His chest felt too hot and too tight, burning and burning and, "We are rivals, Akagami."

Shanks must've been pouting, he could hear it in his voice, "Even more reason for you to take it. We could duel every day if you could always find me~ Come on.. Please? I want you to have it."

"...."

Hawkeyes glanced at his best friend rival and immediately regretted it. Shank's face was always full of so much hope, so much faith in... something.. It made Mihawk's heart catch in his throat every time to see those big earnest eyes staring at him almost as if, for a moment, it was faith in him.

"I don't know if I can give you mine.." He murmured. Shanks smiled soft, a little sad, and infuriatingly understanding without needing to know anything.

"I dont need it. I know you'll always find me." He pressed his heart, his home the scrap into Mihawk's palm and closed the swordsman's fingers over it. "And if I need to find you.. I'll just ask the wind."

[iivari-ii]

MY FRIEND GOT ME GAMBIT’S DEBUT COMIC OH MY GOD????

@r1ot-ghoul going so insane over this, gnawing the bars of my enclosure jESUS CHRIST

[thisisahyperfixationnow]

Get jumpscared it’s November 5th

(for everyone who got unexpected flashbacks because they forgot the date)