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Romance - Blog Posts
Supernatural Romances make NO sense - A Random Opinion
Here's the thing: As much as I enjoy these concepts or tropes, they don't make sense when you take the time to think about it. Don't believe me? Let's go down the list then.
Vampire romances: The concept of a vampire romance really doesn't make sense when you take just five minutes to add all the aspects together.
Sure, it can be intriguing or whatever (especially if there’s a unique way in which the premise is handled), but let's really boil down the contents of its true implications here.
A vampire is a creature that feeds on human blood. Vampire romances USUALLY (not all the time, but usually) involve a vampire falling for a human rather than a vampire falling for another vampire.
Let me say this again. Vampire, which eats humans---then has stories where they then fall for humans.
That's like a chupacabra hooking up with a goat. What sense does it make for a creature to fall in love with something it usually tends to eat?
Even if the said predator of this relationship has no intention of eating their mate or harming them---would you, as a rational person, feel comfortable knowing that your partner has to harm YOUR species and eat them for their own survival? I highly doubt it.
"Oh, I know you kill people and drink their blood, but I know you won't kill ME! I'm just DIFFERENT--"
It literally makes no sense.
Zombie romances: Zombie romances make even less sense to me. Because now instead of a creature that simply wants your blood, it’s a creature that quite literally wants to rip your stomach open and eat your intestines like Twizzlers.
At least with a vampire, you could just have IV blood bags for them to drink to put off their thirst for a WHILE. But when it comes to zombies, they literally rely on eating the WHOLE entirety of the human.
Once again, it’s like a chupacabra dating a goat. Oh, but what if the zombie doesn’t want to eat or harm their partner?
Well, then we get into even more ethically concerning details on the human’s part. Because aren’t zombies walking corpses that eat people? And if a human is willing to date or become uh…'entangled’ with a zombie, isn’t that a form of necrophilia since the zombie is literally just a man-eating corpse?
Sure, we could argue whether or not zombies are living or non-living. But let's be honest here: the majority of the time, zombies do not look cute. They are rotting parts of their bodies, they look dead, they smell horrible, they’re covered in blood, and sometimes missing a limb or two. If you’re unironically attracted to that in real life or something (not including those who JUST like the stories for the stories), you are mentally ill—there’s no way around it for me. You are attracted to something that looks like a corpse. That in itself is necrophilia and it’s honestly gross from an incredibly literal standpoint.
Even if the zombie were to look like some cutesy/idealistic anime character or something, it still doesn't change the fact that this thing's practically DEAD.
Sure, like vampire romances, it could be interesting depending on the intricacies of the story. But it still makes no sense when you write it down on paper. Wow, you’re dating a creature that looks dead and has to fight off the urge to eat people every single second they're on this planet. How quirky.
Ghost romances: Ghost romances also don’t make sense on paper. Now, this one is a bit more loose in my opinion since ghost archetypes are often experimented with in terms of what they can do or not do. It’s just one of those things where it really depends on the story world and the premise it's placed in. However, from the very cultural and general stance of how ghosts work, they can’t touch anything (except when it's to conveniently scare people, so even then, their intangibility is transient) and they can’t age.
I’m sorry, but aren’t the driving points of a romance being able to see the characters display affection and/or get old together? And if a ghost can’t touch anything, what’s the point in being romantically involved with someone you can’t kiss? I get there’s long distance relationships, but if they’re in the same room with you—why would you want that?
Even if the subject of physical intimacy wasn’t an issue, there’s still the prospect of aging. Because if your boo (pun intended) died young and is a ghost, that means they’re physically stuck at that age forever. Even if they were to be centuries older than you, wouldn’t it be weird to see some elderly person smooching on a young looking supernatural?
Let me put it like this. A human woman at 25 years old is in a relationship with a male ghost. The said male ghost died at 30. Sure, she could get away with dating him for another five or ten years, but eventually, the human woman ages in appearance physically and looks older than her ghost partner. And if she lives long enough, she’s gonna be 80 while her boo still looks 30. You’re seriously telling me that DOESN’T look weird from the outside? Wouldn't you be weirded out if some super old person was smooching up with someone decades younger than them?
At that point, to avoid any oddities, you’d be better off killing yourself in whatever spot they’re stuck to so you wouldn’t have to worry about aging out of proportion in the relationship (and if not aging, then to touch them). That sounds like a lot more work than it’s worth.
Werewolf romances: Werewolf romances are the only sort of supernatural romance I could possibly get behind—and even then, it’s still highly dependent on how the said story chooses to handle the workings of lycanthropy.
At least with this partner, they most likely can turn humans who won’t HAVE to kill you out of survival. You don’t have to be sorry about some super weird complex age gap. And you can touch them. Sounds like a pretty decent basis so far. BUT there’s always a catch.
A werewolf is (duh) a person who can turn into a wolf (or wolf-like monster). When it comes to these beings, it really is a roll of the dice. Because some versions will make them seem they have no thought process or control at all—whereas others give them complete control. So to call a werewolf automatically dangerous to the well being of their human partner is rather tough to say off the bat. Though, I do know that all of that fur that sheds off of them will be annoying to deal with (and that’s not even counting all of the things they might chew up---like your shoes).
And while I would be inclined to agree that being in a relationship with a werewolf could most definitely be a form of beastiality, at the very LEAST a werewolf can revert back into a human the majority of the time. So as long as you’re only doing stuff with them as a human, you should technically be fine, right?
I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still don’t find much appeal in becoming romantically involved with someone who can become some giant creepy wolf abomination, but at least there’s SOME things in there you COULD manipulate depending on which universe you land into.
Overall, while I do think supernatural romances are indeed a fun concept (and I DO tend to enjoy some of these stories), there’s no way in HECK I think they’re ACTUALLY plausible (unless you add some major--MAJOR--plot armor).
Let's bring back putting flowers in your beloved's hair
Rewatched one of the Tom and Jerry movies called Tom and Jerry: The Lost Dragon, and it just seemed funny that Tom was considered the Mama throughout the film since he was the first person the Puffy saw when they were born.
And i joked around that Tom would look good as “The Mother of Dragons”, some type of Game of Thrones jokes was what i was toying with the film about
Though that was when i decided to start planning on making an AU about Jerry being a bartender and coming across Tom who’s the “Mother of Dragons”
'You could be my entire world if you let me.'
When I say I loved love, theoretically...
I FREAKING LOVED IT!!! ❤❤❤
I read this in 2024 and still till this day it's one of my favorite reads ever. Probably because I related so much to Elsie that I even bought a sweater with the quote that is written in this post (the sweater is beautiful tho).
This art is from: @maherdraws
The sweater (if someone wants to buy it) @literaturestitches
Some extra favorite quotes:
'I like to see you. When you're not trying to be someone else.'
'I want you Elsie. All the time. I think of you. All. The. F**king. Time.'
'There is no universe in which I'm not going to let you go. I want to he with you, on you, every second of the day.'
If sex is what you use as the only proof of compatibility between a pairing that you are trying to push at your audience maybe this pairing isn't worth being an endgame.
Come some one help me
I have a friend which I am now dating :3 but before we were the best friends always talking and always playing but now we just do t talk as much and if we do it over text can someone help
I wonder if the day will ever come when I am the one holding someone else's hand, feeling the warmth of their skin flush against mine
when will I be the one on a date with my lover, feeding each other small bites of our meals, pinkies interlocked under the table?
when will I feel a careful but tight embrace in bed on a rainy night after a long night?
will I always be so cold and alone for the rest of my life? will I spend the rest of my life with the itch under my skin yearning for the fireplace of a home?
This shit hits harder than Peruvian cocaine 🙏🏻
kickoff | series masterlist.
gojo satoru x reader [18+] | angst, fluff, smut
ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)
ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot
ᰔ status. ongoing
ᰔ word count. 72.5k
ᰔ taglist. open (feel free to comment!)
chapter index.
ch1. gojo satoru sent you a message
ch2. terms and conditions
ch3. returning the favor
ch4. a day in the life of a hot soccer player
ch5. these feelings are hard to find
ch6. devil's advocate
ch7. to lose someone you love
ch8. a little cottage on the countryside
ch9. words you've been wanting to hear
ch10. pending...
additional content.
official headcanons pt1. fluff, mild nsfw | link
anon headcanons. fluff | link
a note from the author. hello! my name is ellie, and this is my first long fic series called 'kickoff' which i began posting earlier this year in january! if you do decide to read it, i thank you very much from the bottom of my heart as it means a lot to me :””) please let me know if i missed any tags or warnings! and for those who may want to know before reading, this series will have a happy ending <3
I finally watched Dinner in America... I want what they have (I have a whole boyfriend and I could never date Simon irl he is the biggest red flag I've ever seen but omg I love him so much me and Patty have the same taste)
I think I’m falling down a fucking rabbit hole of fanfic. Like. It’s to the point where I want to date the “perfect man or woman or someone” and it’s all I read about but in real life it’s nothing for me. When I wanna have something that someone has that I’ve read about it makes me wanna stand on a fucking train track. I’m being dramatic but maybe reading fanfic needs to stop. Or maybe I should stop looking in real life.
I Think About This A Lot To The Point Where It May Be Unhealthy
I'm a bit of a writer, and sometimes I sit reading romantic oneshots and headcannons. And I just get thinking, why does everyone write about 'the first time they met' or 'the first time they kissed' or 'their first valentine's day together'? If it were me, I'd want to read a oneshot titled 'the 315th time they kissed and yet they felt fireworks in their stomachs' or 'the 100th time he hugged me and secretly stole my coffee from the kitchen counter'. I want to read about love persevering. I don't want to read about a guy or a girl who's just fallen heads over heels. I want to read about a couple who has worked their way through the kinks in their relationship, smoothened out the wrinkles, ironed out the problems, and still love each other wholeheartedly. I don't want to read about the first time a guy or girl kisses me. I want to read about the day he kissed me just to distract me from the fact that he was being chased by the police (now wouldn't that be an interesting one?) or the day she stole my car keys because she doesn't have a car and wants to buy groceries for me because I'm tired. I don't want to read about the 'I would cross the world for you, darling' kind of love. I want to read about the 'I would certainly cross the world for you, but only if you're paying for half of it afterwards' kind of love.
I don't want to read about someone falling in love. I want to read about someone working to love someone, earning that love, and making it theirs for the rest of their lives.
I think it should be more normal to give book recommendations like Ao3 recommendations
Idolish7 fanfic- Ringing Hearts <3
-Nagi x Mitsuki, introspective Mitsuki, fluff, slight angst-
Mitsuki lay on his side in bed, idly swiping through his phone. The only light left on in the room was the small square being projected onto his weary face. Mitsuki should be sleeping at this hour but he couldn’t bring himself to settle, allowing the soft music pouring from the speaker to create a more melancholic atmosphere than the day deserved.
Mitsuki was glad to be getting so much MC work lately. Really, he was.
It was just difficult to set aside the fact that their fans thought he talked too much, knowing that Mitsuki had only made it onto i7 as part of a package deal.
But Mitsuki knew better to dwell on that, so he swiped.
Everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it.
-David Foster Wallace
Mitsuki lingered on this slide long enough for the music in the background to loop, then he laughed quietly.
How odd was it to go seeking a distraction and stumble across a mirror, instead?
Mitsuki held the moderation Yamato had given him close to his heart, but this- this desperation to keep a white-knuckled grip on the things he held dear- was something written into the very marrow of Mitsuki’s bones.
It was what kept him signing up for auditions- always reaching, even if it meant his hand might be slapped mercilessly away, again and again. It’s what kept him up at night when he ached from the brutal sting of rejection. It’s what had spurred Iori to glue them together in the first place, if only to spare Mitsuki the pain.
Gratitude and insecurity were glued in equal measure to that memory, but now that they were here Mitsuki knew he would never let go of i7 without engraving his desperate desire for their success beneath his fingernails, first.
The thought of ever being dragged away from the group was an uneasy one, though, so Mitsuki swiped again.
Achilles did not slur my name, as people often did, running it together as if in a hurry to be rid of it. Instead, he rang each syllable:
Pa-tro-clus.
-Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller
Again, Mitsuki paused. An image of Nagi’s shining face poked its way into his thoughts, unbidden, whining for Mitsuki to watch Magical Cocona with him.
Mit-su-ki, Nagi always said. Drawing the syllables out so the shape of Mitsuki’s name lingered on his lips.
Thoughtful, Mitsuki raised a finger to his own lips and pressed down.
Mitsuki was used to people wanting to be rid of him. Used to people batting away his outstretched hand in search of something more. Something better.
No one had ever lingered on Mitsuki, before.
The thought brought warmth to Mitsuki’s face and he slammed his phone down on the bed, throwing his room into a sudden, searing darkness.
Mitsuki’s heart pounded against his chest- a wild, fluttering thing- and he felt stripped bare, his racing thoughts thrown into sharp relief without the soft haze of the phone screen to blur them.
It was so warm, all of a sudden.
Had someone messed with the thermostat?
Surely that’s all it was, and not…
Mitsuki carefully grasped his phone, tilting the screen back towards himself.
he rang each syllable, it said. Pa-tro-clus.
A nervous smile tugged at Mitsuki’s burning cheeks, a gentle weightlessness skittering through his stomach.
Mit-su-ki, Nagi always said.
Mit-su-ki.
Surely Nagi knew the emphasis didn’t belong in the middle of his name, and yet…
And yet, he rang each syllable.
Mitsuki pressed his face into his pillow, carefully cradling the belltower resonance that had been struck each time his name was spoken with such care, building and building and building until the brass echo brought blood rushing to the surface of Mitsuki’s smile.
Mit-su-ki, Nagi always said- sparkling and golden and princelike.
“Nagi Rokuya,” Mitsuki whispered into his pillow. “Na-gi.”
The music on Mitsuki’s phone looped gently again.
Mitsuki carefully rang each syllable.
“Ro-ku-ya.”
Delighted laughter bubbled past his lips, swallowed by the walls keeping watch over Mitsuki's feelings.
Maybe…maybe that’s what Iori had meant the other day. When Mitsuki was sitting on the couch with Nagi, watching the man far more than the anime, and he’d placed a hand on Mitsuki’s shoulder, leaning down to whisper, It’s okay, onii-san.
Maybe it would be, Mitsuki thought.
Maybe Nagi Rokuya was another one of those things Mitsuki wouldn’t let go of without a fight.
“Dream A Little Dream Of Me” 💝
Bobby Kennedy x Reader
synopsis : Bobby has always given you everything you’ve ever wanted, always spoiled you endlessly, and a certain dream makes you feel ready to do the same in return, in the best way you can.
word count : 1.8k
warnings : nothing graphic goes on, just talks about domestic family life and marriage
authors note : hiii this is my first fanfic ever so it might be kind of all over the place, sincerest apologies if that’s the case. also sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy!!
🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽
Bright beams of sunshine passed in through your window, breaking through the silky curtains Bobby had put up for you months earlier, and pulling you from your deep sleep. You rubbed your eyes carefully and shifted slightly, rolling over so your back faced the window and nuzzling your face into the pillow Bobby usually slept on as you began to think. Your mind was fogged by the aftermath of deep slumber, but you could remember one thing clearly. You’d been having quite vivid dreams all night long, ones that made you think about things you hadn’t even considered. Made you think about Bobby, and your future, and the past and present too.
The last time you remembered having a dream as vivid as the one from last night was on the night after Bobby’s proposal to you.
You’d been so excited, and all night long your mind had gifted you with visions of a big, beautiful wedding—a long white aisle with a lace veil trailing along it, wedding rings, Bobby’s tanned hands holding yours and his lips offering generous kisses, an impressively beautiful layered cake, ribbons in your bridesmaids’ hair. It’d all been wonderful to get to imagine, and it left you smiling and blushing bashfully when you awoke, excited like a schoolgirl who’d just been asked to prom.
It hadn’t all just been dreams either, for all of it had really been brought to life, thanks to the sweet nature of your darling Bobby and his extensive familial wealth. You’d told him about your dream, and about your fantasies of your ideal perfect wedding. He’d taken every bit into consideration, and made it all a reality on your big day. The venue and decor at your real wedding had all been beautiful, just like in your dreams—pale shades of pink, yellow, cream, and blue dancing all around the place in exquisitely pleasing order—and the ceremony had been even better, the most romantic, fulfilling moments of your entire life that nothing could’ve ever prepared you nor could ever live up to.
For your honeymoon as well, he’d planned that according to your fantasies of a perfect vacation months earlier. You’d been flipping through a women’s magazine and saw photos of a beautiful 17th century estate in Portugal. A big, castle like home with dozens of rooms of gleaming marble and stone and intricate hand painted designs. A large garden out front filled with beautiful flowers, with a big staircase leading to a huge crystal clear pool, acres of perfect green grass and a clear path through the enormity of the estate intended to be used as a moat of admiration. The coast was nearby, as well, so you could make a trip out to the beach whenever you wanted.
You had adored the property, and showed it to Bobby later that evening in bed. You’d hinted at maybe going somewhere like that for your honeymoon, or for some other vacation down the line. You hadn’t explicitly stated that you wanted to stay in that exact home, you knew renting it would be enormously expensive and you didn’t want to make Bobby feel like he had to put all the money unnecessarily into something like that. You didn’t want to seem too frivolous or like a gold digger, nor did you want to overwhelm him. Your worries were completely thrown out the window by Bobby, though, and you discovered this was such when he surprised you about a week later with plane tickets to Portugal and the news he’d rented the whole place out for your honeymoon.
You’d been so excited and thanked him nearly hundreds of times, basking in the joy of having a man that really seemed to be eager to do absolutely anything under the sun if it would please you. He was so doting and so kind, and spoiled you so much you almost felt guilty for it. You knew you were much luckier than most women, knew you had the greatest husband you possibly could. He gave you everything, did everything, and it made you want to do the same for him.
And maybe that—knowing Bobby would do anything for you, everything was possible with him, you could have any future you thought up thanks to his doting unconditional sweetness—was why you’d dreamed so vividly of finally making a father out of him.
That was certainly the greatest gift you could give him, and was a dream of yours, like a majority of other wonderful things you’d enjoyed together.
Your dreams of a wedding had of course come true, your dreams of a perfect honeymoon had come true, you had a marriage that would’ve been the stuff of fairytale and fantasy to you when you were a young girl. Maybe this was supposed to come true as well. Maybe the next thing you were meant to have was.. a baby.
You were snapped out of your long winded train of thought by the door creaking open, and you turned your head up to see none other than Bobby stepping into the room, in all his handsome Kennedy glory. He usually got up earlier than you and wasn’t in bed when you woke up, so you hadn’t even really processed his absence till now, but now that you had, you realized you’d missed him. He was already dressed for the day in a sweater and slacks, and held a cup of coffee for you in his hand.
“Well, good morning, dear.” That familiar boyish smile came onto his face as he spoke and made his way over to the bed, sitting on the edge and setting your mug down on the nightstand. He leaned down, brushing your soft hair off of your face and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, his lips curved up in a faint smile.
“I would’ve woken you up a bit sooner, but you looked so peaceful, I just couldn’t bring myself to.” Bobby spoke, keeping his voice soft and running his fingers through your hair, gazing down at you. “I made a cup of coffee for you. Figured you’d want it, you usually do.”
You allowed yourself to relax against his touch and shut your eyes again, though it wasn’t for the intention of sleeping or even really relaxing. It just served the purpose of allowing you to focus more solely on Bobby’s gentle touch, and bask in the quiet intimacy of the moment without the extra stimulation of sight.
You gave a slight nod after he told you he’d brought you coffee, smiling softly. Bobby was quiet for a moment after your lack of a response, and he soon started to talk about his duties for the day, softly speaking about plans with Jack. He had a few meetings or something, and had paperwork to fill out. You didn’t really know, as you hadn’t been listening much. You were too busy thinking still, and Bobby always had a tendency to ramble.
You gently interrupted him a minute or two into his soft rambling.
“I dreamed about you.”
Bobby was snapped out of his thoughts upon hearing your voice. He processed your words and smiled a bit at them but didn’t respond with much, just a soft, “Yeah?”
He was hoping his lack of substantial reply would encourage you to speak again, and tell him more. He was always interested in what went on in your mind, whether it was when you were asleep or awake. He thought you had a beautiful way of thinking, a beautiful mind and psyche. Probably why he always took your advice on serious matters, with no second thoughts.
“I dreamed that.. that we had a baby. A little girl. She had your eyes and smile, and my hair. We loved her so much, she fit right into everything. It felt so real. We gave her a pink nursery and she had little pajamas with Bambi on them, and we put little pink bows in her hair. Oh, it was so precious.”
Bobby’s eyes went slightly wide for a moment at the words that sounded from you. He hadn’t necessarily been expecting to hear that, but he wasn’t upset about it. No no, not upset at all. Quite the opposite, really. He’d been waiting to hear something like that from you, waiting for a confirmation that you were ready for a life like that with him. He’d always known that you would eventually, he’d just chosen to be a gentleman and wait for you to decide when you wanted it. And now that it sounded like you were reaching that point, he was beyond excited. The prospect of a baby, a sweet little thing to cherish and love, filled him bright joy.
“Well I.. I’d be ready to make that a reality. That is, only if you are, Y/N. You’ve never brought this up before, so don’t decide on a spur of the moment type thing. We have all the time in the world, you know.”
You’d been married for just under a year, but you loved eachother so deeply, you both could be certain that nothing could happen that would cause you to split. And most certainly a baby wouldn’t . A baby would be a blessing, the physical embodiment of your love for eachother. It’d tie you together even more, make you as close as you possibly could be past marriage, bonded for life. You’d be parents together, the natural next big step in your love story.
You fluttered your eyes open and looked up at the man in front of you. You smiled softly and reached your hand up to rest it on his hand that was still against your cheek. You leaned your head to the side a bit and gently kissed his palm. “I.. I think I’m ready, Bobby. I just needed a little reminder that it was a possibility for us. I guess that’s why the angels or something blessed me with a dream about it.”
Bobby’s smile widened and he gazed for a moment before sliding his hand away, instead wrapping both of his arms around your waist and pulling you up slightly. He leaned in further and pressed gentle kisses to your face, all along your cheeks and your forehead and jaw, and anywhere else he could reach without going below the neck. You smiled brightly and allowed him to shower you in all this attention, definitely enjoying it quite a bit and showing your appreciation in soft giggles and an embrace, your arms sliding around his neck.
Bobby finally stopped the kisses and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. His face was smooth, so you knew he’d shaved this morning, and you could feel his lips curved up into a smile against your skin. You slid your fingers through his hair, and he sweetly spoke up.
“What are we waiting for then?”
Me writing (i LOVEE writing)
Fic Prompt: Notebook (Romance)
Person (A) missed a class and asked to borrow person (B)s notes. Person (B) gives (A) their notebook and tells them to just give it back the next day. Person (A) opens it to study that night but notices how neat it all was and the little notes and doodles of random things along all the pages. After studying, (A) went through and just looked at the cute doodles and note-to-selfs. (A) didn't know (B) could draw, and finds it cute getting to know them through the drawings, finding by the end, (A) has a little crush.
Confessions Of Memories. | • 7.
1. | 2. | 3. | 4. | 5. | 6. | 7. | 8.
Days had started overlapping with blurred faces and rotting emotions that dried on the hill that was her memories. Her feet could only remember one dance, and that was to shuffle around the room of scrolls and books. Her mind was clattered, rearranging the books in pointless positions.
"You've been so mindless, gosh! Take a week off, that should be enough." Her co-worker sighed.
Please don't fire me.
I'm ting my best. I promise.
The sun made its way down the sky as she left, leaving her key with them. Her body was as heavy as broken heart. Her eyes were burdened with bags of dis-ease, yet empty with confusion.
One person was to be forgotten, yet they kept disappearing. No matter how many wishes of her mother's she pushed herself to fix, she was still left forgotten.
She slid the door open, letting her hair down. She glanced at the hairpins, hopelessly rolling them around in her hands. The house smelt of burnt rice, the flowers that grew outside dulled without water. Maybe she could tidy the house.
But she couldn't bring herself to do it. Her body just felt too heavy.
"Jiji? Are you there?" Xiao asked softly, peering his head through.
He saw her, quietly glancing at the window he was perching on. He exhaled in relief, his eyebrows relaxing.
"What's wrong?"
"I wanted to come and personally thank you, but you weren't there."
"Just, my memory has gotten foggy."
Are you beginning to forget me?
"Ah." He stopped.
"Yeah."
His hand clenched, his lips twitching with a frown. His heart choked in his chest.
Summer.
The hot night wafted the area with a starless night, and a lonely moon. The wind brushed his scent onto her. She smiled, despite her chest aching. The emotional agony was sitting at the back of her mind, the dull reality of her eternal life being paused by his presence.
He brushed kissed her forehead, as if to kiss her doubts away.
Of course it could never work.
But, she'd like to pretend. The temporary feeling that grew, only had so much space.
"Please stay, Xiao."
"Call my name, whenever you need me." He looked at her once more, his hand resting on her head softly.
With that, the wind that burst around her left only a hint of him in the room. Once again, she was alone.
Her bed made her hostile. What nightmare was on the menu tonight? Whether it was marble or molded faces, she didn't want to see it. What could she do? Beg?
"Mei?"
"Who else brings you to the beach?" She chuckled.
"This is your favourite moment at the beach, isn't it?"
The sun spiralled into the ocean, the sky tinted with setting grey. The sand was cold, and damp. The small rocks were littered across the vast area. Her face was missing once again, but she could see her expression.
It was smothered.
"You have a good memory." Mei pranced.
"Sometimes,"
Sometimes I can't remember want I want to.
"Sometimes?"
"It feels like a curse."
"How can having a good memory be a curse?"
Li looked felt her eyes burn, as she grabbed Mei's arm, her grip pleading.
"Because whatever I remember never makes me happy." She sniffled.
"It's tiring. I'm forgetting everyone. I don't want to. I don't want to!" Her voice was absolute, the beach dead with her resolve, Mei silent.
She sighed, patting her head.
"How much happiness are you going to sacrifice?"
You don't have to live like this.
-
Confessions Of Memories. | • 4.
1. | 2. | 3. | 4. | 5. | 6. | 7. | 8.
Mine never wanted me.
My father is something of a dead myth, and my mother was a criminal.
A perfect upbringing for me really.
Li Jing looked to the unfinished diary entry, the words burning through her pupils. Her eyes constricted, as she cradled herself, shoving it away with her foot. She scrunched her raven strands in her fist, as she chewed on her lip.
XXXX
My dream got eaten last night..
But I'm recovering.
"Xiao wasn't responsible, was he?" She sighed, to no-one in particular.
That was the truth. The secret that she so desperately needed to tell him. To at least chip away at his guilt- even slightly - wasn't possible. He would never know, because she would never tell him.
XXXX
I don't want to stay with her.
The page lay unfinished.
The next week after the entry, Li Jing was alone.
Loneliness plagued her life without hesitance. She dragged herself through a path that only led to more loss. Yet if she stopped, she would betray her mother. Being loyal to her mother was the only thing she needed.
She wished.
Li Jing shuffled to the door, quiet as she looked to the dawn that was illuminating him. Xiao was perched there, like his usual self. His breaths paced, body stiffly stuck in one place. She sat beside him, watching the sun glide over the debris of the moon.
"You really need to relax sometimes." She glanced at him.
"Hmph. And where's the time for that? Liyue isn't a place for rest."
"Then where is?"
Xiao hummed, looking to her arms. Her arms, were probably warm. But they had also probably forgotten him.
"Well what about you then?"
"History doesn't rest, so I can't either."
"Promise me you'll rest." His eyes clicked with her own, his tone soft.
"I'll keep the promise if you rest as well."
"Fine."
He leaned forward. He hesitated. With her eyes screwed shut, a soft warmth was pressed to her head, his sleeve dragging across the wood as he retracted. Li Jing's cheeks flushed, as her heart was pierced with ache once more.
"What are you guys doing?" The Traveller looked up to them, sleepy and worn with leftover fatigue. Xiao arched his brow, gracefully landing infront of the Traveller. Li Jing took the stairs down.
She linked arms with the Traveller, leading them away from him.
"The book you picked wasn't easy."
"Why?"
"The memories of the author are dead. None of their memories were clear."
"Then what are you going to do?"
"I'll need to meet this village's historian."
She brushed her hair rapidly, taking her two hairpins out of her side pocket.
"Who gave you those hairpins?"
"These? Oh."
"One is from Xiao."
Her face flushed red with fever. Days were blurring together as she looked to the outside, which had a quiet pond. The only thing keeping the days apart was Xiao.
His eyebrows were furrowed. Xiao leaned closer, his lips pressing a soft kiss to her head. Her eyes were heavy with fatigue, the cold cloth on her head slightly aiding her.
"Get well soon, please." He murmured, placing a hairpin in her hand.
She held his hand, a soft smile glazing her face.
"The other is from my best friend."
The summer sun was set on the water, as they padded through the sand, their arms gritty with wet sand. She paused, dirting her dress as she searched for an item.
"Mei your dress!"
" My mom doesn't care. Here! I got us matching hairpins! "
"What'd she look like?"
"I can't remember."
-
"I remember you! You must be the village historian?" Li Jing quipped.
"Yes, it's an honour to meet someone who has been documenting for centuries."
Her chest creaked with unease. She looked at his dark eyes, chuckling lightly.
"You knew the author?"
"Quite well actually. She passed on just a decade ago."
"I hoped she lived well."
"She did, being the great- granddaughter of Honghui. "
"Honghui?"
"I'm going to marry Hui! "
"You're only ten!"
Mei huffed, crossing her arms.
"True love doesn't wait, does it?"
"I can't believe she's dead. She was only 18!"
"Honghui is so distraught, he won't even leave his study."
"Yeah, he's an old name now. His tale is quite sad- moving on, you needed information for the book?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Make yourself at home."
"I'll be leaving in fifteen minutes, it's really not necessary."
She shuffled, tucking her sleeves to her side. The man glanced at her, his eyes lingering on her. Li Jing let her eyes fall to the table.
"No need to rush."
-
Confessions Of Memories. | • 3.
1. | 2. | 3. | 4. | 5. | 6. | 7. | 8.
Li Jing wished she hadn't taken the route.
She feared for him.
Of course he had lived hundreds of centuries that had built his immunity to wounds, there was nothing wrong with being cautious.
"We'll get to rest soon." She said subconsciously to the two.
Xiao nodded, whilst the Traveller was silent. Who is Mei? They looked to Li Jing, who beamed at them. They looked to the path again.
Li Jing was greeted by a little girl as they finally got to the circular village. The girl tugged on her sleeve.
"Are you staying over again? Everyone missed you. You barely visit after last year's Spring!"
Li Jing chuckled lightly. Her face fell flat, as she beckoned for the two to follow her. The path curved into a lively place, one of yellow hues and humble faces. As they settled in, she couldn't make contact with him.
He remembered; she could feel it in her swollen soul.
"So why did they need you right now? Couldn't they have asked someone else?" He murmured.
Li Jing looked at him for a moment before bursting out with laughter.
"I didn't know you whined." She pinched his cheek, prompting him to scoff.
He buried his head in the nape of her neck, his hands firmly around her waist. She hummed, filling in the last of her scroll. His affection was a plea for her attention. The ink finally finishing. They walked through the back of the village, leaving them to the stars.
His head laid in her lap, she stroked his hair. The moon smiled at the two, willing them to be together.
Except they weren't. The sunset stuck in the sky, unwilling to move for them. She dropped her things in her room, kicking it in so the door could close. The dust stuttered in the air as the door settled in place, leaving the three of them in the open area.
The birds chirped, the crows squawked.
"Make yourselves at home- for now."
"Going somewhere?" Xiao asked gently.
"Mhm. I won't take long."
She didn't have to walk far to find the rounded mound of grass and mold, littered with broken white roses and unfailing snow. Sunrays lulled on the grass, quietly expecting Li Jing.
She kneeled beside the mound, her hands curled up into delicate fists. The snow dampened her dress, as she scraped at the snow to mold a heart. She placed it ontop, and stood.
"I wish I could remember your face."
The path she walked back was one that left her empty, and senseless. She stepped back into the room, unravelling her hair. She placed her hairpins on her table. Li Jing stretched out the scroll, placing a weight on either end.
She loaded the ink.
There was a faint growl, one of pain. She paused, hearing the scraping of wood. Li Jing approached his room, his hoarse breathes filling the room.
A smooth wave of paralysis unclosed around her, hand outreached.
She hummed, like she would always do. She would just have to improvise for the harp that wasn't being played. Her throat grew brittle, as she stood from a distance, waiting for him to show any signs of relaxing.
His shoulders drooped.
A heavy silence filled the room, as they failed to make eye contact.
"I'll leave you alone. Call me if you need anything."
-
He poured hot water on the herbs, carrying it to her study. His hand hovered over the handle. Either way, he would still find her in her study, her hair like a black curtain over the book. He placed it beside her.
"Oh, thank you."
"How is the book coming?"
"Finding the memories that fit with this book isn't as easy as I thought."
"Maybe you need a break then."
She smiled to herself, closing the book as he sat opposite of her. She glanced into the glass, the hued water letting the petals fall to the bottom.
"...Sorry. I'm sorry for saying that. " She murmured.
Xiao crumpled his face, and turned to the side. What was he to say? I don't have feelings anyway. I don't deserve them.
"You don't need to apologise for that."
Her face grew faint, as she took a sip. As her tongue burned, she realized just how much she want to tell him. She wanted to tell him the truth.
-
Borrowing town memories was easy. Yet, as she sat in the place where the author once was, she could not remember. In fact, she was beginning to forget. Her eyes dulled, waiting for midnight to strike.
"It must be difficult being a historian. You constantly ignore your life to record others."
Li Jing looked at the Traveller. She smiled gracefully, fixing her posture.
"You could look at it like that. I like to look at it like an escape."
The Traveller sat beside them, resting their hands in their lap.
"I wanted to ask,"
"Who's Mei?"
"I'm not ready to answer that." She faltered, fiddling with her fingers.
"Is that why did you become a historian?"
"That wasn't because of her. I'm just naturally indebted to Liyue."
"Naturally." They thought to themselves.
"You're lucky to have a fate of your own." She chuckled.
The Traveller quipped a brow, to find Li Jing's gaze averted to the sky.
You're lucky,
To have parents who wanted you.
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