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tannertan36
Xuebing Du

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Love Begins
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
noise dept.
hello vonnie

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One Nice Bug Per Day
Sweet Seals For You, Always
trying on a metaphor

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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Cosimo Galluzzi
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we're not kids anymore.
Not today Justin

Origami Around
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@welcomewilka
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Another breakdown. More voices and visions that aren't there
Her latest invention, an attempt to make a grenade with a new filling, crashed into the wall to the sound of her desperate roar. The parts fell to the floor with a dull clink and fell silent
Jinx had been plagued by bad luck lately. A cruel irony
Usually she brings bad luck to everyone, but now... now it was her turn to taste the mess life had made for her
Thoughts swarmed in her head, chaotic, interrupting each other, all trying to devour her. It felt like each thought was swarming over her, nibbling away a small piece of what was left of her. What was left of her? Jinx herself didn't know. It was almost physically painful
You said something to her, but she didn't hear. Of course, you. No one but you dared approach her when something inside her began to torment her, slowly, debilitatingly, like a festering wound. You were her healing balm. If Jinx could, she would have tied you to her. Just so she could grab your hand at any moment. To make sure you were still there. You always managed it...
But Jinx suddenly felt like you were leaving. That you were abandoning her
No way
Not now
"DON'T YOU DARE MOVE FROM THIS DAMN PLACE!"
Her voice seemed to shake the very walls of her lair. Jinx's hand darted toward yours, gripping it tightly. A little harder and she'll break it
"One more step, and I swear I'll blow us both up. A piece of you here, a piece of me there—a wonderful addition to this goddamn mess"
Her free hand found a grenade, unfinished, but already powerful enough to explode. The scariest part wasn't even that, but how calm and serious she seemed
What does it mean to be a Jinx's girlfriend? Well, this
You stood in your lair, covered in glitter from head to toe, a feeling of relief slowly washing over you. A familiar giggle sounded from somewhere beside you:
"Sheesh, you're shinin' like a little rainbow explosion"
That sneaky ass tossed a grenade that probably scared you into having three heart attacks at once... only to have it explode in glitter. In the remains of the grenade, a bright pink heart was swinging on a spring. You hardly expected anything less from her as a romantic gesture
"You should have seen your face! Your eyes literally said 'oh fuck I’m so fucked', absolutely ADORABLE"
Oh yeah, Jinx had a good laugh at your expense. Sometimes you were about 10% away from giving her a good thick ear, just for those jibes she made that would have given anyone gray hairs
"But hey, you're my adorable rainbow explosion, huh?"
Her arms wrapped around your neck, your bodies collided softly, and her lips touched yours. And now you were both covered in glitter, like two glittering disasters, silly and in love
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A familiar silence surrounded the lake: somewhere, a solitary night bird sang, the wind rustled the willows, and the water lapped peacefully against the grassy shores. A lone swan glided across the lake's surface, wistfully awaiting the full moon to emerge from behind the clouds and silver its feathers
After minutes of agonizing anticipation, the moon emerged from behind the clouds, its light softly illuminating everything it touched. The night flowers opened to greet it, illuminated in response with bluish and violet light. And when the heavenly body glanced at the swan, the silvery light suddenly grew brighter
Waves of light rippled across its feathers, white as untouched first snow, and the swan rose above the water, flapping its wings. The feathers swirled around it with a soft rustle, revealing ever-changing flesh until the fabric of her dress touched the still waters of the lake. The water enveloped her legs, splashing almost gently, and, holding up the skirt of her dress, the princess took a leisurely step, then another. And then she froze
Moonlight illuminated your figure, peeking out from behind the trunk of a weeping willow. Bertlinde's eyes widened, the blood drained from her face. But she opened her arms, as if to embrace or stop you, and leaned forward, walking anxiously toward the shore
"Pray, have no fear of me"
She begged
You broke her solitude several months ago. You came to the lake to be alone, and then to visit the swan. The graceful bird was always alone, seeming to listen and understand you, even allowing you to embrace it and cry out all your sorrows. These moments became something Bertlinde tenderly guarded and cherished in her memory, awaiting your arrival with longing and hope. And now it seemed to her that her world would collapse if you fled in fear. You had never been out so late before that fateful night, and now... now she could lose the precious you had given her in her miserable life
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The sun lazily sank toward the horizon, painting the world with a warm golden light. Unloading your dried clothes from the bamboo slats, you glanced at the field where the horses—your family heirloom—grazed. Lacking male heirs, your father had passed the family business into your hands as the eldest daughter. Or rather, he had passed the family business into the hands of Mizu. That was the way it was supposed to be
You didn't mind, though. Your wife thrived when she was with the horses, and the horses gravitated toward her in return. She had a gift for communicating with them, finding common ground, calming and guiding them. Once, she spent half the night with a purchased horse that had been frightened by a thunderstorm, scratching it and whispering soothing words. It seemed Mizu had finally found inner peace, felt at home. In a world where there'd never been a place for her, there was at least one corner where she didn't have to constantly keep her ear to the ground and her hand on her katana hilt
Having led the horses back to the stable one by one, she finally returned to you
"Kumo will foal soon"
She announced casually, picking up a basin of dry laundry. Normally, after such news, you'd be treated to another hour of chatter about your precious horses, but Mizu leaned over and briefly touched her forehead to yours, rubbing against you like a cat
"I can't believe you still put up with me"
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Oh, those strange 90s, when everything unsuspected in the 60s, unseen in the 70s, and brewing in people's minds in the 80s came to light. Violet had her share of experiments and self-discovery, but she was happy with who she had become. She was a free spirit, cruising through the evening heat in her sin-red 67 Ford Rochero, which she herself had raised from the dead, radiating an aura of charisma, charm, and rock music. She was the spirit of the era, the side of it that smelled of alcohol, motorcycle exhaust, and leather jackets. Violet really wanted a motorcycle, but she couldn't find anything she could work with, and she didn't have enough money to buy even a used one—everything went to the family and the car. But hey, a big girl should have big dreams!
And then one evening, as she was cruising through the streets of Chicago, the radio crackling softly on her favorite rock station, she allowed herself to glance down at the sidewalk. Something caught her eye. No, someone. Violet was a responsible driver, her eyes always glued to the road, but... there's a first time for everything
Everything disappeared except her; you could have sworn time slowed down. This girl was incredible. The setting sun illuminated her hair and kissed her skin, her clothes caught warm reflections. She was like the sun itself, floating across the asphalt as if across the sky, unearthly and alien in the best sense of the word. And Vi stared at her, practically glued to the window, mouth agape. God, she probably almost hit a pole...
"I was made for lovin' you baby", the radio blared, and God, yes, Vi didn't dare argue. Tearing her gaze away from the stranger, a confused and embarrassed Violet drove a little further, staring at the road with the gaze of someone who had just experienced an emotional explosion. "Screw it", she thought, and turned around, smoothly drove up to a girl (not forgetting to check herself in the rearview mirror), and rolled down the window, resting her elbow on it
"Hey, cutie, wanna ride? Someone has to save your gorgeous legs from this worn-out asphalt"
She forced her most charming grin, though inside she was screaming at how awkward it sounded. She felt like she was 14 again...
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Mizu had always been somewhat dismissive. There were few moments in her life when she could afford even a moment's slack. She'd already let her guard down once, and what had happened? Her heart had been ripped from her chest and thrown into a fire. Her trust had been betrayed in the most terrible way. Now she was certain—she had to move forward, no matter what. There was nothing that could stop her, slow her down, force her to turn around. Hunger, pain, exhaustion, affection—empty words for Mizu
Or rather, that's how it was. Ever since you joined her, she couldn't help but curse in her mind every time you slowed her down. You were more... human. Your body, unbeaten and unwounded by countless enemies, wasn't as resilient. Mizu demanded more of herself than she could handle, but she hadn't had to pay for it often enough for her to understand it. And so sometimes she'd grab your wrist, urging you on despite your fatigue
Mizu had always been somewhat deaf. Other people didn't bother her much unless they offered her the slightest benefit. And every complaint you made, never groundless or petulant, was met with a wall of silence or an irritated "let's go". She wasn't angry, she wasn't doing it out of a desire to hurt you. But she was unintentionally doing just that
And then you got sick. At first, it was just a runny nose, then a cough, and then a fever. Your thoughts were confused, your head was empty, it felt like a thousand needles were being driven under your skin, burning like embers. And for the first time in a long time, Mizu panicked, truly panicked, the way a child panics when their mother suddenly disappears from sight. She was terrified of leaving you alone, and she couldn't help but fear for you every time she went to get medicine, anything that could help you. The former irritation was gone. There was only fear
"Come on, you need to drink this"
Mizu coaxed you, secretly surprised by how pitiful her voice sounded, supporting you behind your back with one hand, holding the bowl of foul-smelling medicine tightly with the other, pressing its rim against your lips
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Leaning heavily on the spear handle, clutching it as if she would lose all support if she loosened her grip, Ambessa walked relentlessly forward. Her wounds still stung, but that meant she was alive. She was a survivor. And she was going home. The enemy never sleeps, armor may crack, weapons may break, but the most important thing was to stand last. She would not allow anyone to break her, bring her to her knees, and leave her in ashes. Not only because she was Medarda, but because she had a reason to return home
It was already late at night, and Ambessa knew you should be asleep. But she couldn't help but glance into your room to see you, snuggled under the blanket, your serene, relaxed face. Someday, you too will have to return home, covered in blood and dust, to your children, to the fortress of your home, which will never be truly safe. For now, you sleep, sweetly and innocently. That's what she's fighting for
However, she noticed a mound of unknown origin on your bed, covered with a blanket. Ambessa frowned and pursed her lips. You should have been sleeping like an obedient child, but for some reason she saw this. She'll definitely give you a thrashing if you decided to play night spy and snoop around... As soon as she pulled the blanket back, she saw you curled up, your face buried in your knees, hugging your knees, and curling your toes. Anxiety stirred in the mother's heart. Ambessa should have punished you, but...
"Why aren't you sleeping?"
She asked quietly, sternly, but not angrily, dropping heavily to one knee next to your bed
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"Fuck"
Mizu cursed under her breath, opening the oven and nearly getting a blast of smoke in her face. The cookies weren't exactly burnt, but they definitely looked more like gifts for naughty children. Oh Lord, why did you give her such clumsy hands...
"Oh my fucking God"
The brunette continued cursing, hastily putting on oven mitts and rattling the baking sheet out of the oven and placing it on the stove. The smell of burnt dough and bitter disappointment filled the kitchen. The cookies she'd painstakingly pressed out with the cookie cutters had spread and partially turned into a single, unbroken mess. A burnt mess. Determined, Mizu cut out what should have been a star with a knife and took a bite. It tastes like bread grilled in hell, and it crunches so hard it makes dentists within a ten-mile radius shudder in horror
Stubbornly chewing on a pastry chef's nightmare, the brunette reread the instructions on the cookie dough package for the hundredth time, explaining how to actually make those ill-fated cookies. In theory, it should have worked, but in practice... In practice, it looks like SHIT
Why did Mizu even do this, you want to know? Because she wanted to make you happy. The days before Christmas were terribly hectic for you, you stayed late at work to sort out endless paperwork that only surfaced, of course, towards the end of the year. She wanted to give you a festive feeling, to make you happy, so you'd come home, eat some delicious cookies with cocoa, and feel a little better. She even wore that ugly sweater (in truth, she thought all Christmas sweaters were ugly) you gave her last Christmas!
And then the door clicked, to her horror. You were dismissed early, and upon arriving at your cozy apartment, you were met by your girlfriend's confused face, the smell of something burnt, and indistinct pieces on the baking sheet. Mizu's usually impassive face immediately flushed with shame and guilt
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It's funny what a goddess's boredom can lead to. Usually, Aphrodite entertained herself with whatever she could. She wove love affairs, like a curious child watching mortals cope with sudden surges of emotion. She made people fall in love, listening to their passionate speeches. From her klinē, she watched mortals create beauty, giving free rein to their feelings in art. There was something about it. And then, during one of these moments of "cultural amusement", she noticed you
You weren't a woman of incredible beauty, but you were certainly... lovely. Appearance wasn't what attracted her to you. Aulos wasn't simply playing in your hands; it was finding a voice. The cry of a wild falcon in the sky, the lament of a woman in the night, the howl of a fierce wind in abandoned lands, the victory cry of the last warrior. So many voices that even a goddess could hear. You spoke other languages and sang ancient songs as soon as the aulos fell into your hands. A little auletride, whose voice most often sounded from somewhere in the shadows or from behind a screen. It's funny that she once made fun of Athena for playing the same instrument, but she completely adored the way you played
As the embodiment of love, in all its various facets, Aphrodite was not surprised that her eyes lingered on the girl she had mentally dubbed her sparrow. You seemed so tiny and sweet to her, like a little bird singing somewhere in the branches of an olive tree
After the theatrical performance, you emerged from the orchestra, tired but content. You were paid quite handsomely for your contribution
"Do you know, girl from the ensemble, who played the aulos?"
A soft female voice sounded behind you, and when you turned around, captivating eyes, blue as the sea on a calm summer day, looked at you. The stranger smiled amiably, tossing her blonde strand back over her shoulder, and the bracelets on her wrist jingled. A rich lady, obviously
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"Get off that bloody horse, woman, before ye fall off and break yer neck"
Your dear husband grumbled, leaning his shoulder against the stable doorframe and crossing his arms over his broad chest, watching you struggle to climb into the saddle of his stallion, which stood there with the submissiveness of a lamb. The problem was, he'd called your mare a "lady's pony". Without malice, but with enough sarcasm to be insulting. Abijah preferred large breeds of horses, and he was especially fond of this Boulonnais stallion—a majestic, large animal, yet docile and calm, with surprisingly intelligent eyes. And surprisingly large, damn it
You tried in vain to climb into Anlon's saddle, not because you lacked skill, but simply because your dress significantly restricted your movements, and because the horse was too tall and large. It's like trying to climb a barrel. In a jump
"For God's sake"
With an irritated sigh, Fowler pulled away from the doorframe, the heels of his high boots thumping dull and measured on the trampled ground. His fingers, calloused from frequent writing and physical labor, grabbed you by the waist and lifted you as if you weighed nothing, lifting you into the saddle like a father lifting his child onto a toy horse
"Are ye happy now?"
He asked, rhetorically, gripping the horse's reins tightly, as if it really could throw you off
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The evening was drawing to a close, and the streets of Piltover, flooded with honest citizens finishing their shifts, were gradually emptying. The streetlights flickered on, darkness and silence descended. Your shift today hadn't been particularly eventful, just a couple of arrests without any major complications. It was all the better for you, after all, you had a night duty ahead of you
You weren't on night patrol, thankfully, but the bureaucracy had its greedy hands on you too. No one would fill out the reports and paperwork except you, at least not this shift. The only consolation was that the police station wasn't empty, leaving you alone with the endless ink lines and humming lamps. Familiar footsteps sounded, and your colleague, Junior Officer Nolen, entered the office
"I thought ye might be wantin' a snack"
Maddie flashed a radiant smile, placing a cup of steaming coffee and a plate with two sandwiches on your desk. She was always extremely friendly with everyone, so her kindness to you didn't seem like an attempt to curry favor, even though you were her senior in rank... At least, it wasn't insincere. It was hard to say for sure. She seemed such a cutie patootie
"I know it's agin the rules, but... mebbe I could help ye with this? I'm almost done with my work"
She suggested after a short pause, gesturing toward the stack of paperwork you needed to fill out. Maddie was a diligent girl, no doubt about it, so if she said that, it meant she really was almost done honestly earning her share of carpal tunnel syndrome for the day
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Abijah, a man of power and growing greed, never imagined himself as a father, never wanted to play that role, but it became his second skin. His life was initially turbulent when you appeared in his fortress. It was like watching over a kitten, trying not to accidentally crush it or let it kill itself through its own stupidity. And yet, one night, as he cradled you, soothing you after yet another nightmare, something stirred in his heart
You followed him like a little tail and refused to go to bed, only to fall asleep on his shoulder half an hour later. Abijah sat by your bedside when you were sick, scolding you and giving you moralizing cuff on the nape when you messed up, hiring the best teachers who had the brains to teach you without spilling the beans. Did you irritate him? Oh, hell yes. Like an active and curious child irritating a grumpy old man trying to work. But he loved you, loved you with a rough, clumsy, protective love. You weren't the heir he wanted to see, and yet you were his daughter, his through and through
"I hear ye creepin', me lass"
Fowler murmured thoughtfully, quite tipsy, dozing off by the fireplace in the armchair, his head propped on his fist, his accent is thicker from alcohol and fatigue. He didn't need to open his eyes or strain his ears to hear and recognize your footsteps
"Tell me, dear, why are ye scuttin' about the corridors at this hour like a mouse, mm?"
He lazily opened one eye and turned his head toward the doorway, waiting for you to finally poke your head out
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Being an enforcer was always quite risky; even on the streets of prosperous Piltover, you could get into trouble. So, when it came to descending to patrol the Undercity, the risks tripled
You were a patrolwoman. Very commendable and brave. You'd already had to chase down juvenile thieves, detain and process the arrests of dubious characters. In short, life was a whirlwind. However, you'd never been to Zaun. There was always an unspoken sense of resentment. Some considered it beneath them, some were wary of the local continent, and some were scornful from the start. But that was the duty of officers, so all they could do was bury their resentment deep down and march through the toxin- and garbage-polluted streets of Zaun. And, as it happened, it was your turn to patrol the Lanes. A kind of baptism of fire that no one envies
"Don't be nervous. Just stay close to me... and don't rubbernecking"
These were the orders the Sheriff gave you, leading you on patrol. Her deep, calm voice gave you no cause for concern, even if her warning alone was enough to make you tense
And everything did go smoothly. Perhaps because Grayson, a strong woman with a firm gait, was the one in control
"So, how was the walk?"
She asked playfully with a soft smile, removing her gas mask as you two crossed the border between Topside and Undercity
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Since Mizu found herself on a path of vengeance, coated in the blood of crushed enemies and the remnants of her humanity, her life had been nothing but survival. There was only the goal, the blade, and the principle of "me or them". No weaknesses, no distractions. Nothing could derail her. And yes, there really was nothing... Because there was someone
Your company was... tolerable. You weren't particularly helpful, but at least you didn't make things worse for her or get in her way, creating more problems than she already had. Thank you for that. It was more trouble, sure, but nothing that would irritate Mizu enough to tie you to a tree in the forest. Over time, you both learned to coexist, and that was what became her pleasant moments of calm between battles and information retrieval. It felt almost like safety. Moments of stability
And even though she was used to dealing with every stone life threw at her on her own, there were times when she needed help. Terrible moments of vulnerability, when she had to trust, to become weaker again, even if only for a little while. After another fight, she was left with bruises and a couple of wounds that she had successfully stitched up. But there was one such wound on her back. Alas, Mizu couldn't reach it even if she wanted to. And so she had to ask you
She hissed and tried very, VERY hard not to snap at you. Your fingers were clumsy, your movements hesitant, and her blood on them didn't help the situation. She wasn't angry at you. She was angry at herself, at the weakness she had sworn to bury
"Careful"
Mizu snapped, unable to bear it any longer, turning to you for a brief moment. And yet, after a brief pause, she added, much more softly,
"But you're holding up well"
This meant more than it seemed
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