#you are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm

[thepeacefulgarden]

#kindness #compassion #your compassion is incomplete if it doesn't include yourself #self care #self compassion #self respect #mental health #self love #self care is not selfish #boundaries #codependency #martyr is not in your job description #you are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm #people pleasing #fawning #there's only so much “you” to go around #put your own mask on before helping others with theirs #you matter #you cannot serve from an empty bowl

[breelandwalker]

When people want to lean on you for mental and emotional support and you're like, no I am a wobbly stick who is barely standing as it is, if you lean on me I will break.

You are allowed to protect your own mental heath, even if it means disappointing someone. Boundaries are good and healthy things to have and don't ever let anyone tell you different.

#Apropos of nothing... #Always see to your own health first #Put on your own oxygen mask before assisting others #You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm #And personally....my ability to be a sympathetic ear only goes so far #I can deal with some things but at a certain point I have to protect my own mental health and draw the I Am Not A Therapist line #mental health

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, slave darling, crude and derogatory terms, classism, abuse of power, death threats

fem reader

Thinking about the poor kitchen maid who's suddenly told she's to be the spoiled Prince's new chambermaid.

It hasn’t even gone a day yet, but you already miss your job in the kitchens.

Sure, the sweltering heat of the ovens always left you in a state of fever, and kneading dough from dawn ‘til dusk made your arms acidic with burns – unyieldingly sore – not to mention never getting a chance to sit down and rest before collapsing in bed at the end of the day. But the smell of freshly baked buns and the chance to sneak a bite out of those that came out of the oven just a bit too burnt for serving had always felt like payment enough.

That and not having to deal with the royal family.

You know you should feel honored. You know it’s supposed to feel godsend to be picked to become the Prince’s personal servant. But… there was a reason he so often required a change of maid.

You still remember the last one they���d taken from the kitchen. She was pretty and young and shouldn’t have been working there in the first place – that’s what everyone used to say before she disappeared.

You wonder if such words carry curses… and what you did to deserve the same things being said about you.

You nearly cried standing outside The Prince’s chambers, chewing on your lip with his breakfast tray in hand, wondering what rumors were true – if he really was as terrible as everyone claims – wondering where the other kitchen maid went and whether you’d end up in the same place… wondering what you could do to keep it from happening.

You don’t know what you were standing there waiting for, nearly pissing yourself when you knew he was still out – busy hunting down a couple of runaway servants for sport. It was almost as though you feared the room itself, as though it would bite once crossing the threshold. 

None of the sorts happened, though a gust of warm wind hit you like the breath of a beast once you opened the door.

Inside, there were around a dozen heads mounted on the wall – dragons, bears, lions, wolves, and other creatures you weren’t too sure of – all with mouths big enough to bite yours off.

You took only a second to look at them before they looked as though they’d leap from the walls and eat you alive, just like you’d predicted.

You set the tray of food down on the bedside table and walked to the bathroom to draw his bath – deciding work would keep your mind off it.

Stepping out a second later, you fixed a fire in the hearth and made to make the bed, stretching the duvet and the quilt over the massive mattress while eyeing the thread count with envy and the hand-stitching with awe. Left to wonder how many ducks had been shot to stuff the mountain of plush pillows he’d all but thrown onto the floor to make space for himself.

Walking through the steam to the bath again, you opened the cupboard to pick out soaps and oils – overwhelmed by the sight of every shelf stocked full of all sorts you’d never seen – glad you had somewhat decent reading skills – unlike many of the other maids.

Soaping the water, you sat on the edge and waited with a hand wading through the warmth – and while biting your lip, you let your mind wander again – daydream, like it so often did – imagining what it would be like to feel it on the rest of your skin, warm and smooth, sucking all the stress out and leaving you soft like a newborn.

He watched you enjoy yourself, his stark eyes calmly assessing what they saw with a tilt of his head – trailing from the tip of your worn-out shoes to the tattered edge of your grey maid’s dress, up your lap to the cinch of your waist where your white apron was bound – taking his time until your eyes fluttered open to find him standing there.

You nearly fell into the water, hopping up to a stance. “Sorry, your majesty- I forgot myself! Please forgive me.” You bowed, looking down at the muddy stains on your gray shoes – in anxious wait of his wrath.

But instead of a backhanded slap that would send you straight to the stone floor or a spit of venom which would make you flinch and cry, he spoke a calm and patient “Come here-”

Though spoken in a certain tone of authority that forced you forward in quick steps until stopping just short of him – still with eyes downcast.

“Mh, I'm glad they haven't run out of cute ones down there.” He said then, once you stood only a hair's length from him – voice just as calm as before and inspiring just as much surprise in you still, though now joined with visible confusion in the crinkle it caused between your brows. A furrow that only deepened once he reached out his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Your majesty?” You questioned.

“It’s master.” He corrected sharply, and you grew unsure if his voice wasn’t just cold rather than calm. “I like that better. Now quit wasting my time and undress me, slave – I have important shit to attend to today.”

You wavered only a second, feeling the words like a flick to the forehead. “Of course, your majes- master. Forgive me.” You blurted with hands quickly jumping forth to help detangle the knots keeping his robes together. 

Small fingers working hurriedly to appease him, setting aside the light leather cuirass upon his dresser once loosening it from his torso – wondering if you should tell him your name, though thinking better of it as he’d opted for simply referring to you as a slave instead of asking. 

You hadn’t been called that in a long while – slave – never by anyone in the kitchen, at least. You’d nearly forgotten it was what you were – a slave – and not just a busy member of the crown’s staff.

You bit your lip with another bow of your head, not wanting the Prince to see your face in its hurt while you undid the ties to the braces on his arms. The castle had become your home rather than a prison over the years, but… with the echo of your title wringing in that very heavy tone of his, along with standing there – bowing your head while undressing him of all fine body armor and robes – you couldn’t suppress the reminder of being of much lesser blood and birth. A fact that – despite never before having bothered you much – somehow seemed to strangle you now.

He’d dragged mud in with his boots – and given he’d not bothered taking them off, you were left to believe he wanted you to do it for him. And though humiliating as it was, you crouched down and began undoing the laces nonetheless – further feeling degraded while caressing the boot.

You pulled it off and repeated the action with the other foot – wondering if he meant you to remove his breeches and tunic as well until he, fortunately for you, lifted the shirt off and pulled the strings to the trousers himself. Leaving the undergarments in a pool on the floor next to you.

You kept your eyes down until he was completely submerged in the water, afraid to see something you weren’t allowed to – before getting up and padding back to the cupboard. You'd never been any lady's or lord's maid before, but you had been trained in the duties – and though heat rose to your cheeks at the thought of those duties, you still made to grab the soap and loofa in shakey hands before kneeling down on the stool next to the tub.

You’d never seen the prince if not from afar atop the castle balcony during speeches by his mother, the Queen – and had only ever heard of his appearance as something twisted and foul – but looking at him with his eyes closed, he really didn’t look as demonic as people had made him out to be. But further thinking about it, scrubbing his chest with soap and water and oil – you realized that none of those people were likely to have seen him up close either.

He looks every bit royal with his strength of face – cutting edges as though carved in marble, with chiseled muscles gleaming in the water and oil.

He was no doubt very handsome, you concluded silently – finally understanding why he was more of an eligible prince than what his attitude would otherwise allow – that, along with the kingdom’s riches, of course.

He sagged forward while you mindlessly amused your findings – though paying attention enough to take the cue – squeezing water onto his back with the sponge before rubbing over the broad flex of muscles, freezing once hearing him let out a heavy moan.

He leaned back again after you were done. Spilling water onto your dress once pulling his arms out to rest on the frame with a sigh – his chin tipped upward, lounging lazily on the back of the tub.

You reached for his face next – now with a silken cloth – stroking it lightly over the few droplets of blood splattered from when he must have cut into those poor runaways after hunting them down with swords and dogs in heel.

You shuddered some at the thought and must have let your eyes linger too long – or at least long enough not to notice him opening his – staring at you silently with eyes jaded in something that seemed to seize you by the throat.

“I’m sorry, ma-” You tried, but he seemed disinterested in it, reaching for you with wet fingers rubbing on the hem of your collar.

“You’re not dressed properly.” He said then, voice lazy yet loud – unimpressed, though not enough to be outright angry.

Gulping at the feel of his large hand so close to your neck, your voice only barely held it together. “I’m sorry, master. They hadn’t the right maid livery in my size, but I’ll have it ready tomo-” You started, hands folded neatly on your lap.

“Take it off.” He interrupted.

You blinked – tensing with your throat closing – sitting there stunned for a moment before mustering an ever so hesitant answer.

“Your majesty?”

“It’s master. Don’t make me tell you again, slave." He growled through grit teeth right at your face after yanking you close by the fabric of your shirt. "And you either dress properly, or you go naked. And right now, it looks like it’ll be the latter. Unless you want to be whipped for poor servitude?”

Your eyes – moon-big now while you shook your head – breathing thin through your nose. “No, master... I’ll undress.”

“Good.” He broke off your collar, dropping you back down onto your seat on the floor before rising with water rushing fast and heavy down along his limbs, dripping onto you as he stepped out with an unfettered splash.

You got up as well, beginning with the buttons on your shirt. Feeling him eye you while he wrapped himself in the towel you’d laid ready for him – his burning gaze leaving you goosefleshed and nearly in tears, bashful as you stepped out of your skirt – naked before him.

You didn’t dare look – even as he stepped toward you. Keeping your head bowed low – breath in shivers while eyeing the hand he reached for you, his fingers stopping just short of touching your bare skin.

“Clean yourself.” He said then, wafting the same hand to the tub he’d just used. Still filled with bubbles of lavender, though no doubt also of his own grime. But you wouldn’t refuse, no matter the degradation – your thoughts still lingering on the former kitchenmaid who’d disappeared not long after becoming the Prince's personal servant.

You stepped in, feeling the warmth close around your legs – still hot enough to prickle. Lowering yourself down, you sat there – swallowed by the bubbles with the loofa in hand, lathering your flesh with the mix of oil, soap, and water – brushing off soot and sweat – leaving you soft-skinned and smooth to the touch, but also riddled with goosebumps that wouldn't lower under the heavy leer the Prince was giving you.

“Get out and come here.” He said a short moment later, and you got out as told – taking slow steps toward the man, with footprints leaving soapy puddles in their wake.

He reached behind you to pull the pin from your worker's bun, letting your hair cascade in flowy wisps down around your shoulders – before brushing them behind you to clear your face and chest.

He’d dried off but didn’t offer you the towel – having dropped it into a wet pile on the floor – now reaching out to feel the smooth gloss of your breasts with brazen digits. Inspecting and assessing while caressing their weight as you stood there with your head still hung down low – silent and shivering.

Soon his hands fell from your chest down to judge your every curve, sliding over slippery slopes until reaching your cunt – stroking two thick fingers through the drippy curls found there. Gliding them between the lips, he circled your clit with his middle digit – tickling you – while dark eyes watched your lip quiver with a power-hungry gleam.

Stepping closer, the small smirk stretched on his face brushed your hairline where you tried bowing your head even lower in embarrassment – with brows tremoring similar to the hands hanging loosely by your sides.

“Aren’t you gonna bleat like a little lamb? Hmm... slave?” He asked then – low in a whisper, blowing gently into the sweat of your hair – cold enough to make you shiver even more. “The slut before you did….” He added with his smirk sharpening – lips stiffening against your skin where he brushed them in halfhearted kisses down your forehead and temple until reaching the shell of your ear. “I had to wring her little neck just to make her stop squealing.”

You sucked your teeth on impulse, jolting just a bit but not enough to make the dire mistake of moving. 

“I can tell you’re smarter. That’s good….” He continued with fingers kept at your cunt – playing your shivering core where you stood planted – dripping wet with bathwater and terrified of moving. “Weak little things like you do better understanding their place.”

Your hands formed loose fists, flinching at your sides as you kept from the urge to wring your thighs shut until he left your sensitivity alone.

“But smart or not, I believe you missed a spot earlier-” Both his hands found your hair instead. “So get down on your knees, slave.” 

One paw cupped the back of your skull in a ponytail while the other laid flat on your scalp, pushing you down until he had you leveled with his throbbing manhood – thick and high-strung – blushed red and strangled with veins – bobbing with might against the ant trail leading up to his navel and looking every bit impatient to be served. 

“Use this pretty head of yours to do better, and maybe I won't have to wring your little neck too.”

You eyed the swaying length with eyes crossing – sucking your lip at its intimidating reach and how it seemed to rise higher than your head – mumbling out a weak. “Yes, master...”

You dropped your jaw and produced your tongue – feeling him keep control of your head in his tightening hold, yanking your hair before you gave the large cock a flat lick – starting at the base of his balls until flicking off at the very tip.

Not too revolted by the mild taste of lavender and vegetable oil, you locked your lips around the head and sucked it in hopes he’d ease his grip.

“Sh-fuuhck- you really do know your place, huh slave?” He mouthed – his head hanging back in a heavy groan – holding your skull in both hands while using them to bob you against his crotch on repeat, lolling his hips inside the wet warm comfort of your mouth a little deeper for each time – only moaning with a laugh once you gave a whine for breath. “Sweet and obedient- just how I like- with a nice wet throat to fuck too….”

He thought of kicking you when you put your small hands against his thighs to brace yourself – but given how softly you held them there without nails and pinches, he decided he’d grant you the tiny mercy – thinking he’d later teach you to keep your hands on your knees when serving him head like a proper slave ought to.

Tipping his head back again, he looked down at you and the pretty curl between your brows and the cute sight of your teary eyes looking back up at him – giving a hiss at how it made his balls tug in excitement.

“Get up-” He growled, pulling you up by your hair and throat until you shoddily stood upright on unsteady feet – lightheadedly looking at him with dazed eyes and a wet pout. “’This tight cunt as loyal to the crown as your mouth, hm?” He asked with a hand smacking the soft place, making you yelp before he made to bury two of his thick fingers inside the taunt space.

You whined out softly at the intrusion – kept steady and close by the fist holding your throat in a choke – before he used the same hand to throw you over the bed – stomach first with a slap to your ass.

“Bow down, slave- and show me some fucking respect. You’re in the presence of royalty, remember?”

He mounted you with a pent-up groan – and a strong fist in your hair, pushing your face down into the mount of pillows you’d dallied with earlier. His knees dipped into the plush next to your hips, locking you beneath him with his spit-slickened meat resting between the soft valley of your ass, sliding between the cheeks impatiently.

Gathering your wrists in his other fist, he kept them crossed at the small of your spine – before pulling back and letting his cockhead fall right to your sweetly wet and welcoming opening – wasting little time in piercing it nice and deep in a direct aim – like an arrow shot straight through a target.

You winced and bucked your hips at the attack – feeling your walls weep and sting – fluttering hot around the size of it.

He leaned across your back – heavy against your shoulders with his mouth at your ear in gritty whispers. “I like docile slave girls like you who know a thing or two about pleasing a man. Good submissive sluts who understand they’re nothing but warm soft meat for men like me to devour.” 

His words groaned in nibbling bites on your earlobe – with a hand kept strict and harsh in yanking your head back for him as he slowly started dragging himself out and stuffing you so fast you couldn’t keep from yelping at the breach. Toes gripping the cold rocky tiles as your legs shook under you – being rocked into harsh and deep by the muscle strength of the beast on top.

“I'm not the first one you’ve bent over for, huh?” He continued with a grin, haughtily chuckling in low breathy condescension. “Probably the first one you’ve had take you in a proper bed, though, hm? And not in a hayloft on whatever dirty farm you grew up on.” 

Your fingernails punched into your palms where he wrung your wrists tight, keeping you pressed flat beneath him while he heedlessly rutted into you like you were nothing but his own snug fist. 

“I bet the whole village had a go seeing how pretty you turned out.” He laughed again, scoffing at it with his tongue tickling your ear. “Did they all fuck you like this? From behind like a farm animal? On all fours with your pretty face moaning in the mud?” Simpering, he sped up as though aroused by his own words.

Twisting your hair tighter and groaning louder against your ear – chasing your deepest parts with balls clapping hard against your clit.

“You’re all fuckin' inbreds- It’s a fucking miracle your filthy parents created something like you- prettier than all the bratty princesses I have to listen to yap all day.” He moaned – now fully drooling against your face, nomming on your ear with heavy breaths.

Fully draping you in his sweaty muscles, you lay gasping beneath the weight – cunt clenching hard around his shaft – making him hiss.

“Ah fuck- It's nice coming home to an obedient slave- so tight and warm- grateful for a royal cock in your poor slave cunt, huh?”

You winced at his pounding, so deep you felt it choke you – making your stomach fold and curl, trying to protect itself from the assault. “Yes- thank you, master- thank you-” You cried while he placed sloppy layers of wet kisses down your temple and cheek in return – until finally pulling off.

“Come here, down on your knees-” Ripping himself to his feet, he pulled you with him by the fist riddled in your hair and pushed you down at the foot end. 

Tugging on his cock in the other hand – quick faps in the slick – he kept you looking up at him while slapping the wet weight in sticky taps against your lips. 

“Open wide, slave- here it comes-” 

Only one more jerk and it all blew in thick white beams shooting across your face – spewing in clusters, hitting you once on your forehead and another over the nose - dripping to your lips into your gaping mouth where he focused on squeezing out the rest – tapping the plush creamy tip against your tongue while panting. 

“Mh-fuck- clean me off and swallow.”

With breaths heavy and slowing, he detangled his hand from your sweaty locks and made to pet your head instead. Gently running his fingers over your hair while watching you obediently kiss and lick up all the spill in tired and slow yet devoted strokes with your tongue until it was all prettily wiped clean.

“Good slave.” The Crown Prince hummed then.

Finally sounding satisfied – still with a lazy hand holding your head where you so faithfully sat at his feet, swallowing his seed, while his satiated cock grew limp in regard.

“Now go wash off while the water’s still warm, and come out and help me get dressed.” He ordered, voice groggily soft in the after high. “I have a full schedule today looking at potential brides… and I want my little farm animal by my side to keep me going insane from boredom.”

BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi

JJK – Sukuna, Gojo, Naoya

HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa

BLLK – Reo

DS – Doma, Muzan, Sanemi

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jjk smut #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha smut #my hero smut #yandere csm #yandere aot

[ichorai]

would that i ; din djarin.

track twelve of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; din djarin x gn!reader

synopsis ; din didn’t consider himself a very jealous person. no, he wasn’t affected at all when the kid seemed to want to spend more time with you than him. not even a little bit.

words ; 1.5k

themes ; fluff, mild pining, kinda sunshine & grump trope

warnings / includes ; grogu eats a frog, mando gets v flustered, reader jokingly calls him daddy lol

main masterlist.

Bag hitched over your shoulder, you tugged on your hiking boots, bending over to double-knot the laces. “Hey, I’m going out to the market to grab some spare parts for the ship,” you called to the brooding Mandalorian in the cockpit. You were met with a quiet grunt in response. Finished with your shoes, you straightened yourself up and peeked your head into the front of the ship, watching Din work on some frayed wires by the control panel. “I’m taking the kid with me.”

This made him halt in his ministrations, and he turned to you. “Isn’t it easier if he just stays with me? Keep him here.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you nodded stoutly. “Alright, lemme ask him. Hey, bub,” you cooed, picking up the tiny creature from his floating carrier and setting him on the ground, equidistant between the two of you. Grogu peered at you with wide eyes, before rounding his head to look up at Din, then looked to you once more. He let out a garbled noise of confusion. “You wanna go to the market with me or stay with Mr. Grump over there?”

Silent, Din watched as Grogu began waddling towards you, seemingly excited at the prospect of going out to explore. 

With a hum of satisfaction, you scooped the kid up into your arms, shooting the masked man a victorious smirk, before striding towards the exit. 

“Be back before sunset!” he barked out, earning him a mock salute from you, then proceeded to incoherently grumble under his breath about how going to the market was really a one-person job, whilst fixing up the banged up ship definitely required more than a single pair of hands.

Clementine flames licked at the air greedily, crackling as Din tossed another wedge of wood into the fire. The setting sun cast long shadows over the secluded, wooded area your little group was hunkering down in, sparsely lit with the heated glow of the fire and the cold luminescence of the distant stars in the sky. You sat on the opposite end of the fire, blowing warm air into your palms to ebb away the numbing cold sewn into your skin.

The kid was snuggled up to your side, cooing as he tried to grab floating embers of the fire that drifted past him, carried away with the frigid night breeze.

Din studied the two of you, his mask betraying no expression whatsoever. Though Din was a man of few words, he was also a man of keen observations, always entirely aware of his surroundings. He noticed the way the orange of the fire tinted your skin with a near angelic glow, how the rustling of leaves behind him seemed to perfectly accompany your tinkering laugh as you smiled at the kid’s ministrations, how your eyes brightened with all the galaxy’s light within your irises. 

His attention was reluctantly drawn away from you when the kid waddled off to the side, having spotted a bulbish frog—which, presumably, looked like a tasty snack to him. 

With a gentle smile, you got up and circled around the fire to sit beside him, foliage crunching beneath your haunches as you settled down. 

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, just audible enough to hear over the pops of the flames. “You’re thinking so loudly.”

There was a moment of silence, the quiet weighing heavily over the both of you.

“It’s nothing,” he replied finally. “Nothing to worry about.”

Not wanting to pry, you hummed in thought, about to tell him that you’d be all ears if he had something to say, but promptly held your tongue when you caught sight of the kid swallowing the poor one-eyed frog whole.

“Spit that out!” both you and Din ordered at the same time. You glanced at each other, and your shoulders shook as you began to laugh, the corners of your eyes crinkling with such genuinity that was rare to find these days. 

You couldn’t see it, but a trace of a smile slowly appeared behind Din’s helmet.

The kid had finally fallen asleep—it took hours of you setting him firmly on your lap and telling him to shut his eyes until he began to relent, curled against your stomach and stealing your body warmth. Sleep was tugging at your own sleeves, whispering gentle static into your ears and weighing down your eyelids. 

Din had passed by the two of you multiple times as he tended to the many laborious upkeeps of the ship, silent as a ghost, but his mere presence was loud enough for you.

It was only when the ship’s door slid open did you startle out of your half-unconscious state, blearily rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You glanced down at the small form on your lap, gently patting his little wrinkled head. 

Carefully, you got to your feet and lowered Grogu into his floating carrier, tucking him into a mottled brown blanket with nimble fingers. The kid stirred mildly at the jostling movement, but settled down when you hushed him quietly.

Satisfied that he wouldn’t spring awake and scamper out of his carrier to swallow down more frogs, you left the ship, sliding the door shut behind you.

The night’s chill was stronger than it had been a couple hours ago, the cold steeping into your muscles and freezing your bones. The moon bathed the forest in a hazy, pearl-hued luminescence, reflecting softly against Mando’s armor. He was watching the vast, dark forest, broodingly quiet. You came to stand beside him, shivering slightly.

“Done with all your little errands?” you asked, trying your best to keep your teeth from chattering. You took his silence as an affirmative. “You really like keeping yourself occupied, huh?”

More silence. In the distance, a frog croaked.

“I would’ve been more than happy to help you if you’d asked, by the way. You didn’t have to do all that by yourself. I used to be a mechanic, you know?”

Din risked a glance to you, holding his breath for reasons unbeknownst to him. You looked awfully serene basking in the sweet cold of the night, which made his chest ache with a tender kind of longing he couldn’t quite put his finger on. A life he knew he couldn’t have, perhaps.

He tore his eyes away before he could dwell on that thought too much.

“What are you doing out here? It’s real cold out,” you murmured, angling your head to look at him. It sometimes frustrated you just how unreadable he was—not even considering the mask, he rarely ever gave anything away with his body language. You wondered what went on in his head. “Are you okay?”

For the first time since you came out, Din spoke. It was tentative and slow—fittingly cautious in nature. His voice sent a thrill up your spine—it wasn’t often that the two of you would genuinely converse about something other than the ship’s upkeep. “The kid likes you.”

A surprised look splintered through your expression. Of all things you expected him to say, that most certainly wasn’t one of them. “Well, yeah, I’d hope so. I love the little guy, even though he eats like a starved wampa.” You narrowed your eyes at him, the beginnings of a smile painting across the corner of your lips. “Oh, maker, you’re jealous, aren’t you?”

Before he could formulate a proper response, you stepped closer to him with a teasing glint to your eyes that he misliked. You patted his chest in mock-comfort.

This close, he could see the fine details of your features much more clearly—he noticed the small, faded scar across the bridge of your nose, slightly darker in color than the rest of your complexion, he noticed the soft curve of your cupid’s bow, and he noticed the slight arch to your eyebrows, as if expecting him to say something.

Oh, right. He should probably say something.

Din flushed hotly beneath his helmet, finding himself at a loss for words. 

“I’m sure the kid loves you just as much, if not more than, he loves me,” you surmised, still with a teasing lilt to your words. “After all, we both know he considers you his guardian—if he could talk, he’d definitely be calling you father. Or, actually, that might be too formal for him—maybe daddy, or something. Pops, even.”

Din huffed, amused. “The kid wouldn’t call me daddy,” he deadpanned, finally finding his tongue. 

You beamed devastatingly gleeful, and he could just about feel his heart disintegrating into sand and spilling through the crevices of his ribs. 

“Why not? I think it suits you.” You shrugged, still grinning so wide it was a wonder your face hadn’t split into two. Oh, you were going to be the death of him one day. “I’m gonna head back in—I’m freezing my ass off out here. Good night, Din. Or should I say daddy?” You barked out a laugh, clearly pleased with your little joke, before trudging away from him, chortling to yourself along the way.

Din watched as you slipped back into the ship, your words ricocheting in his head over and over again. He exhaled heavily. 

He was digging himself a deep hole here—and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to stop.

#the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fluff #din djarin x you #star wars fanfiction #din djarin imagines #din djarin drabbles #din djarin angst #the mandalorian fluff #the mandalorian x reader #sw fanfiction #sw fanfic #star wars fanfic #the mandalorian fanfic

[slusheeduck]

Fictober 2023 Day 4 - Prompt: "Fine, explain it to me." Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 

“This is unacceptable,” Lae’zel muttered, pacing around the campsite like a caged wolf. “That…istik, thinking he could succeed in the mission without me.”

“As I understand it, Lae’zel, they need some stealth today,” Gale said, stoking up the fire. “And, for all your positives, subtlety doesn’t seem to be one of your strengths.” At the look Lae’zel shot him, he held up his hands. “It’s not mine, either! Crouching too long sets my knees creaking like nothing else.”

“But he took the teethling!” Lae’zel protested.

“Tiefling.”

“That is what I said.” She hissed out an agitated breath, resuming her pacing.

Gale watched her for a moment, then went back to the fire. The group would likely be plenty battered and bruised when they got back, and a good warm meal always did the trick. Well, and a few healing spells, but they had Shadowheart for that. He went to gather the ingredients—oh, dear, was this all he had to work with? He longed for a decent shop—then paused as he looked over at the githyanki, still pacing.

“Lae’zel,” he called as he made his way back. “Why don’t you help me with dinner?”

She looked over at him, then scoffed. “You think I am a lowly g’lathk?”

“I…don’t know what that is, but I’m going to say I do not.”

“T’chk.” She did stop pacing, at least, but it was to fix Gale with a withering look. “Among my people, food is unnecessary unless we are in the Material Plane. Those that work with it are a cowardly, lowly caste who would otherwise be useless to us. To ask me, a warrior, to engage with this…dinner is an insult.”

“But you…are in the Material Plane.” Gale frowned. “You have been eating, haven’t you?”

“I take sustenance when I require it.” Lae’zel sent a scowl to the ingredients Gale had set out. “I do not require this sort of…excess.”

Gale looked at what he gathered—a handful of potatoes, three links of sausage, several various mushrooms, garlic that had certainly seen better days, and a bit of pork still attached to the bone. “I suppose the half-fermented garlic really is a bit decadent,” he said dryly, then shook his head. “Well, suit yourself.” He paused. “I do know that Falerin would be very glad to have a meal made by you. And you know,” he added in a conspiratorial whisper, “Shadowheart can’t cook at all.”

Lae’zel was quiet for a very long moment. But finally, she came and sat down beside him, legs tucked under her and back very straight.

“Fine. Explain it to me.”

“Well, first things first, let’s get these potatoes peeled.” Gale picked one up, showing it to her, then picked up a paring knife. With a few deft flicks of his wrist, the peel was off, and he set the potato in a nearby bowl. “Can you manage that?”

“T’chk. A child could.”

“Many do. Here you are.” He passed her the knife and the remaining potatoes, then went back to the fire. He scraped off the bit of meat left on the pork bone, then dropped it in a cast-iron pot with enough water to cover it. That went over the fire, and he got to work on dicing the mushrooms.

“The potatoes are flayed.”

Gale blinked. “I suppose that’s…that’s technically correct,” he said, looking them over. “Well, isn’t that nice! You have a bright future as a potato peeler.”

“I do not.”

“I was joking.”

“It was not funny.”

“…ah. Well, now that they’re peeled, you can cut them up.” Gale went back to the pot, stirring the broth. “I’m thinking that we’ll have a nice fry-up. The broth adds a little extra oomph to it, but the overall effect will be crispy bits of sausage, and lovely golden brown pota—”

“It is done,” Lae’zel interrupted.

Gale looked over and just barely managed to keep his face in check. The potatoes were massacred. Some practically pulverized, others jaggedly cut. It looked remarkably like what Lae’zel’s victims looked like on the battlefield, on a much less impressive scale.

He stayed quiet for a moment as he stared at them, hand going over his mouth. “Or,” he finally said, “Or. We could have a really nice soup.”

He took the potatoes from Lae’zel, setting them aside as he resumed his work on the mushrooms. To his surprise, she stayed put.

“Is there more you require?” she asked.

“No, no, you’ve already been a great help. Thank you, Lae’zel.” He moved the pot aside, taking a cast iron pan and setting the sausages in it, along with the garlic and mushrooms. In a few moments, it was sizzling quite nicely, with fragrant smoke rising up to them. Lae’zel leaned in.

“That smells…pleasant,” she said slowly.

“Amazing what a bit of garlic does for a dish,” Gale said, then glanced at her. “You know, here in the, ah, Material Plane, cooking is an experience. It’s a good way to…take your mind off of things you’d rather not think about. I turned to it quite often when I took my sabbatical from the world, let’s call it, and it ended up being a favorite comfort of mine.”

Lae’zel nodded slowly. “That is why you are flabby and poorly suited for action.”

“…maybe not quite the way I would have put it, but yes. Can you, carefully, pour the potatoes in with the stock? That’s the pot there with the water.”

She nodded, taking the bowl of potatoes and pouring them into the water. She went back to sit beside Gale, and he looked over at her.

“You don’t have to stay, if you’d rather go off,” he said. “Thank you for your help.”

“I would like to observe,” she replied crisply, lifting her chin. “Perhaps this is a skill I will have need of, if you are cut down in our travels. I do not trust the others to make food worth eating.”

“I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment.” He gave the githyanki a smile. “And I’ll be sure to let everyone know you were responsible for dinner tonight.”

It was hard to tell, what with Lae’zel’s typical stoicism, but Gale swore he could see just a hint of a pleased glint in her eyes as she sat back to watch him cook.

Fictober 2023 Drabble Master Post

#fictober23 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #lae'zel #buff gale isn't real #buff gale doesn't exist #This man is not ripped he is dad-bodded and pathetic

[crimesofapoet]

you are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm

#new poets society #poets on tumblr #poetry #deadpoetssociety #dark acadamia aesthetic #reading #darkacademia #spilled poetry #writers and poets #poets corner #books and reading #books and libraries #books #beautiful quote #quoteoftheday #life quote #love quote

[redactedevents]

⛄❄️Winter Solstice Week 2022❄️⛄

We're happy to introduce another event this year: Winter Solstice Week 2022!

This is a themed event open for participation by anyone without a word count or application minimum, starting on Monday, November 28th, and ending on Sunday, December 4th. We are aware that this is not the week of the solstice, but as it overlaps with the New Year's Gift Exchange 2022, it is happening a month beforehand.

The event will have a different set of prompts to pick and fill each day, with the last day being a 'free day' where any work of any kind may be posted. You are not obligated to post for each day, but it is encouraged!

This is a lighthearted event to encourage creators to post themed content in collection without the extant pressure. Let's come together and party for the Winter Solstice ❄️!

Short Rules:

1. Be respectful! Accept other's interpetations of the prompts. We're all here to have fun!

2. WIP posting is permitted without restrictions! The only requirement is to use the tag for the event " #RedactedWS22 " and to tag the event account. However, please try to keep works original. Plagiarism will not be permitted for the purposes of the event.

3. 18+ content is allowed at the discretion of the creator! Content that falls under 'Pedophilia', as defined as a romantic or sexual relationship or situation between one individual who is an explicitly stated or written minor and a person who is explicitly stated or written as over the age of 18, will not be counted as part of the event.

4. Anyone can participate! Artists and authors, video and audio creators, any kind of content creation is permitted.

5. Have fun! Do not burn yourself out for this event. The prompts are not strict and there is no content minumum, meaning a winter-themed work posted for only one day will still be counted and shared by this event account, as long as it is related to the Redactedverse. Works posted after the deadline has passed also count!

Days And Themes:

Day One: Wonderland❄️

Key Words: Cabin, Secret, Wonder, Curiosity, Excitement.

"The shapes are getting softer and the land is becoming something magical. The surrounding is transformed into a dreamscape full of bizarre forms that generate friendliness among strangers. Here a smile, there a good word and the world enchanted."

- Anna Asche

Day Two: Hearth🔥

Key Words: Warmth, Crackle, Cuddle, Chocolate, Fire.

"There’s a steaming mug in your hands, warming your fingers.

There’s a friend seated across from you in the cozy chair, warming your heart.

There is mystery unfolding."

- Vera Nazarian

Day Three: Snow🌨️

Key Words: Sweater, Sick, Soft, Cold, Chill.

"I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again."

- Lewis Carroll

Day Four: Holiday🎿

Key Words: Free, Vacation, Sports, Fall, Joy.

"Easily Zin’s favorite holiday, because the night was for everyone of all traditions, religions, and countries. Celebrated by anyone, anywhere, on that hour. It represented the boundary between years, this in-between time. Plus, that evening was about the moment. It was here now. Indisputably immediate."

- Ruth Ann Oskolkoff

Day Five: Dinner🥂

Key Words: Food, Cooking, Full, Celebration, Taste.

"Eating a huge home cooked Christmas dinner was his personal favorite. Evan would look around after each Christmas Day was done. There were empty dishes, and torn up wrapping paper on the ground. Monty was passed out on the couch stuffed with food. Evan would close his eyes and hear the day. He could feel the memories that were just made."

- David Rangel

Day Six: Family🫂

Key Words: Together, Handholding, Skin, Found, Safe, Peace.

"You must remember, family is often born of blood, but it doesn't depend on blood. Nor is it exclusive of friendship. Family members can be your best friends, you know. And best friends, whether or not they are related to you, can be your family."

- Trenton Lee Stewart

Day Seven: Free Day🎉🎆

Anything Goes!

#redacted asmr #redacted fanart #redacted fanfic #redacted headcanons #redactedasmr #redactedverse #redacted events #redacted audios #redacted audio #redactedaudio #redactedaudios

[thepeacefulgarden]

#you matter #you are enough #you are worthy #self compassion #mental health #self respect #self love #self care #self care is not selfish #martyr is not in your job description #you are not your past #you are not your mistakes #you are not what happened to you #generational trauma #religious trauma #people pleasing #fawning #codependency #boundaries #you are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm #think for yourself

[breelandwalker]

Pink Moon - April 6 2023

Prepare for the blooming season and make sure you take those allergy meds - it's time for the Pink Moon!

Pink Moon

Named for the appearance of spring flowers, in particular the early springtide ground phlox, the Pink Moon often coincides with the first bloom of the season, with trees and fields in flower and a profusion of color returning to the world after the long bleak greyness of winter. Despite the name, the moon itself does not turn pink to match.

The April full moon is also sometimes known as the Paschal Moon, being the first full moon after the spring equinox. The Christian Easter holiday, which has a floating date, occurs on the first Sunday after the Paschal Moon. Alternate European names for the Pink Moon include Egg Moon and Budding Moon, and some modern pagan traditions call it the Awakening Moon. Indigenous names for this moon include Breaking Ice Moon (Algonquin), Budding Moon of Plants and Shrubs (Tlingit), Moon When The Ducks Come Back (Lakota), Planting Moon (Tunica), and Frog Moon (Cree).

Farmer's Proverb: A full Moon in April brings frost. If the full Moon rises pale, expect rain.

What Does It Mean For Witches?

The Pink Moon is a time for reconnecting with yourself and the world around you. The world is giving a good yawn and stretch after a long winter's sleep and so can we! Get outside if you can and get some fresh air. Explore your area, especially if there's something or someplace new you've been meaning to try. Revisit old haunts and discover what's changed since the last time you were out and about.

Take a moment to assess your current goals and mark your progress. Celebrate your growth and learn from your setbacks. Assess your boundaries as well. Are you making enough time for yourself? Are you letting things or tasks or people intrude where they shouldn't? Is there anywhere that you should be standing firm but aren't? Balance dedication to your work with playtime and relaxation. Remember that you are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm. Take time to care for your own needs and address those "I'm Sure It's Nothing" health concerns you've been putting off.

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

By the time the Pink Moon comes around, there's either one more cold spell working its' way through or the first true warmth of spring beginning to appear. If the temperatures are rising to sunny pleasantry in your area, it's the perfect time to start planting your garden.

Whether you have a few pots on a patio or a fully-planned plot or just some well-beloved houseplants, get your fingers into the dirt and transfer those seeds and sprouts to a nice fertile home. You can work various kinds of magic as you do, for growth, fertility, prosperity, tenacity, resilience, protection, whatever seems needful. If you grow your own plants for your magical practice, you can also bless them for their intended purposes. If you don't garden (and not all of us do), you can grab your field guide and pruning scissors and go foraging.

For a fun and easy full-moon spell, set out some gallon jugs of potable water to make Pink Moon Water. This will be excellent for watering your garden...and yourself! (Rainwater isn't safe to drink these days, and water collected from wild sources is dicey even if you boil it, but drinking water works just fine.) You can also cast spells for creativity, change, fertility, happiness, adaptability, and growth. Use whatever methods resonate with you and remember that the most important component of any spell is the witch who casts it.

The earth is blooming, so let's bloom with it!

Happy Pink Moon, witches! 🌕🌸

Further Reading:

Pink Moon: The Fascinating Full Moon of April 2023, The Peculiar Brunette

Pink Moon: Full Moon for April 2023, The Old Farmer's Almanac

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison

(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)

#Pink Moon #lunar magic #moon magic #witchcraft #witchblr #pagan #full moon #lunar calendar

[cowgirl60]

Morning Mantra: “You teach people how to treat you by deciding what you will and won’t accept.”

You can’t complain about somebody crossing the line if you fail to set the boundaries.

You can’t complain about somebody wasting your time when you are so quick to agree to their schedule.

You have to stop giving people so many chances to make the same mistakes. Stop asking why they keep doing it and start asking yourself why you keep allowing it.

You have to be honest with yourself even if it hurts. You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm.

Just be smart enough to know when enough is enough.

Learn from it. Grow out of it. Be done with it.

#BeABoundarySetter #BeHappy #BeHorsey #BeHippie #HorseHippie #MorningMantra #inspirationalQuotes #MorningMotivation #Equestrian #HorseLover #QuotesToInspire #HorseHippieBrand #HorseHippieBoutique

[lopeirce]

I had to give myself a pep talk this morning so I figured I’d share this in case anyone else needs a pep talk.

Things I’ve learned in therapy:

Reversing the negative self-talk is a huge element of building up your self-esteem.

I read this book called “Unfuck Yourself” by Gary John Bishop and he said that the person that you talk to the most is yourself. It’s true. That inner dialogue dictates our self-perception and we are our own worst enemy. Change that negative self-talk because that negative self-talk is what is allowing you to remain at the bar that you’ve set for yourself. If you don’t change it, you’re never going to grow and heal. You are not your thoughts. The negative thoughts are lying to you. Don’t buy into them.

Accept compliments even when you don’t agree.

I had a really hard time accepting compliments from people a few years ago. One of the things that my therapist told me to do was when someone compliments me, say “thank you” and then move on and don’t give it a second thought. Even if you think it’s the most ridiculous thing in your mind. Even if it makes you uncomfortable. (Obviously, this pertains to healthy compliments and not a creepy person.) Why? If someone tells you they like your shirt and you say something like “oh, this old thing” you’re demeaning yourself. It goes back to the negative self-talk. Just say thank you and move on because what you’re doing here is you’re not allowing yourself to engage in the negative self-talk. As silly and small as it is, this helps builds confidence.

You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep other people warm.

If you’re a people pleaser like me, this hits home for you. I spent most of my life doing things because I felt like I would be a horrible friend/person/daughter/sister/lover/etc if I didn’t and in the end, I lost pieces of myself. I sacrificed my own happiness for other people who to this day don’t even acknowledge that. Don’t do this. Know your limits. Set boundaries. You don’t have to sacrifice your own health and happiness for other people. It’s not your job to make other people feel satisfied. That’s their job. If you give 100% of yourself to everyone else, you’re not leaving anything left for yourself.

Your feelings are valid.

It took me until I was 30 to reconcile this. I grew up in a household that made me feel like I was a crazy person and that everything I felt was ridiculous. It’s not. A friend of mine told me something recently that even further has stuck with me. It’s okay if you feel something for only a short time. If someone said something that upset you and then they further explained which then made you understand it better, that doesn’t mean that you weren’t upset. Acknowledge it and know that whatever you feel is okay and it’s normal. You’re not a robot. You’re a person with feelings and they are valid.

Depression/negative feelings are easy to give in to. Resisting them is the hard part.

I struggle with this a lot. I’ll confess that I gave into my depression and eating disorder yesterday. It was easy. Today, I am resisting it and it’s hard. And that’s okay. If you allow yourself to sit in your negative head space, all you’re going to see are negative things. Give yourself time to address your feelings but don’t stay there. It gets harder to get up the longer you stay down. Focus on the simplest of things even if it’s just “ this cup of coffee is so good.” Find the little smiles throughout the day.

If you want to be more positive, successful, etc, surround yourself with people who are those things.

Just like how negativity is easily spread, so is positivity. Use that positive, successful space. It’s amazing how you can train your mind that way.

Life will keep throwing the same lesson at you until you learn it.

Sometimes healing hurts more than the thing that hurt you.

Healing is hard. Therapy is hard. Reopening old wounds hurts because it’s festered for so long. But when the day comes when you can talk about something or experience something without negative feelings, it makes it so worth it.

Most of the issues we carry into adulthood stem from childhood trauma.

I’ve always struggled with feeling like I matter. My therapist asked me “who made little you feel like you don’t matter? Who do you hear besides yourself telling you that you don’t matter?” Start there. Unpack that. 

Know what triggers you and try not to coddle them.

When someone has a phobia of something, they get put through exposure therapy. It’s the same concept with something triggering. Little by little, expose yourself to things that make you feel uncomfortable within your limits. It doesn’t have to be a lot. If you never expose yourself, you’re never going to heal. I used to think that by shutting myself off from the world, no one would hurt me. a.) I was wrong. b.) I’m a human being who needs connections with other human beings. In order to heal, you have to learn to be okay with being uncomfortable.

Tell people how you feel.

This isn’t something I necessarily learned in therapy but it’s something that I live by. I’d rather tell someone how I feel about them and have my heart shattered than look back and wonder “what if?” If you’re bold enough to express your feelings to someone, you can get through the day. 

Negative feelings are temporary.

I have to remind myself of this daily. The pain you’re in, the anger you’re feeling, it will all go away eventually. Someone once told me that it’s literally impossible for the universe to remain off balance. Balance has to be restored eventually.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

#mental health #therapy #life lessons #things i learned in therapy #healing #depression #anxiety #trauma

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Skin & Scale (Part 26)

They opt to travel on foot several miles from Ba Sing Se. If dragons are a sight to see in the Fire  Nation she can only imagine the sort of fuss seeing them in Earth Kingdom skies would cause. At any rate, she can’t seem to bring about the transformation anyways. 

Her legs feel terribly heavy. Her bones seem to hold the weight of shackles or stones. While the others pack up their tents she bunches herself up–still nestled within her blankets and father’s coiled tail. She shifts the blankets and holds her hand out in front of her, the dragon’s teeth stone glints in the early morning light as it filters through the canopy. The flame that comes to blaze in her open palm casts an orange glow, it is so terribly small and she aches keeping even that alight.

She grits her teeth. 

She really has overdone it, hasn’t she? 

She lets her hand flop back down and rests her head upon it. 

Mother’s head comes to loom over her. She extends a claw and strokes her cheek. “You won’t be transforming today.”

She is relieved to know that they are on the same page. Twice as much to know that, if it came down to it, they wouldn’t let Zuzu coax her into trying for the sake of efficacy. Granted, she is fairly certain that they are now past using her like that but she still can’t rid herself of the notion that it is a possibility. That, at the very least, they will be visibly disappointed in her ability. 

She uses mother’s hand to help pull herself upright and mother holds her steady while the dizziness passes and her muscles try to warm up to the prospect of moving about. 

“You’ll build up a tolerance for transforming.” Father promises. “The more you work with the stone the more you’ll be able to transform without depleting your chi.” 

In some sense it is a neglected muscle. 

By now, by this age, she imagines that she should be able to transform at least once per day without repercussion. Or every other day depending on how much she firebends in that timeframe. 

Her stomach sinks, she hadn’t really firebent at all these past few days save for getting the campfire going and making room in her schedule for her casual firebending routine. She should be further along than this. She should be capable of so much more. She swallows, a knot forming in her belly. She has never been behind on anything related to skill. 

Never. 

“It isn’t your fault.” Mother assures her. 

She knows that but it doesn’t help. Her fault or not she has been set back by more than fourteen years now. She can’t possibly make up that lost time. Not in a case like this; a case where it isn’t a matter of pushing herself to build strength. This is a matter of endurance built patiently over time, a process that needs to happen naturally and without any hint of over exertion. 

She is a patient person but she has her limits. 

Mother continues to stroke her cheek. Father, satisfied that she can move on her own, withdraws his hand. 

“Are you ready to go, Azula?” Aang asks. “We have everything all packed up.”

“I suppose I am.”

“Are you going to transform?” Toph asks.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Zuko asks. 

“It requires a lot of chi. I’m…” she hesitates. “I’m tired.” 

“Can I see?” TyLee asks.

Azula extends her arm and lets TyLee feel along it. The girl’s lips purse. “Yeah, it feels like you’re pretty drained.” She pauses. “It isn’t so bad, as long is you don’t push yourself today and tomorrow you should be perfectly okay.”

“I can’t imagine that we will run into too much trouble.” Sokka says. “As long as we stick to our ‘walk the rest of the way’ plan.”

“Yes.” Azula stuffs her hands into her pockets. “I don’t think that we will have too much trouble.” No trouble aside from her feeling like she is a hinderance. Although at the same time as those tickles of shame work their way into her tummy, there is a lighter fluttering. They aren’t demanding that she just transforms anyhow. 

.oOo.

Sokka has to admit that he still isn’t used to seeing Azula so sluggish and slow. He isn’t used to seeing her lay down and close her eyes, not when there is work to be accomplished. What he is used to is logic and reasoning. And it does make sense for her to conserve her energy. He knows it so she must. Even if she resents it. 

Mostly he isn’t used to her being so openly vulnerable with them. Perhaps he owes that to a budding sense of trust and companionship. It could also be that she is well aware that she has two dragons that will protect her viciously. He likes to think that it has more to do with trust, with that he and Katara had helped her through her initial transformation. That has to mean something to her. 

Her hair and clothing flutters in the breeze. 

He can tell that she isn’t sleeping. Sometimes she opens her eyes and stares at the passing clouds. But he can tell that she isn’t in a talkative mood. 

“Mind if I sit here?” He asks. 

She gives him a lazy wave. He is fairly certain that it is a gesture meant to convey that she doesn’t care either which way so he scrambles his way over. It leaves him slightly dizzy–he hadn’t realized just how different it is to ride a dragon rather than a bison. 

Pangs of discomfort and unrest settle into his mind seeing her like this. Even if it is far from the worst state that he has seen her in. With a soft hum she sits herself upright for the first time in about two hours. He hair, slightly disheveled, falls over her shoulders. It has gotten so long, he hadn’t realized how long it had gotten. She fixes her sleepy gaze on him. 

It comes to him why it makes his skin crawl to see those sleepy eyes and that burdened posture. Although she holds herself as proudly as ever and with as much poise and dignity as possible he can still sense her discomfort. He gets the feeling that, that is only because she lets him sense it. 

And it unsettles him because, in that posture he can still see the suffering and the overexertion from their last large adventure. 

“We’re almost there.”

He can’t tell if that had been a question or a statement. “Yeah. Shouldn’t be too long now. Are you able to walk?”

She nods. “I can walk just fine.” 

“If you need to take a break…”

“I can make it to the Jasmine Dragon. We’ll be using their train system, I can rest then.”

Her voice is soothing somehow. Calm and in a way that provides him with a sense of security. He just hopes that it isn’t false. That she isn’t just saying what everyone wants to hear. Just saying things that make her sound and feel stronger for the sake of that impeccable facade that she likes to wear. 

“Alright then.” He smiles as Shaw begins her descent. 

It's much more pleasant this way, he decides. To work with Azula rather than in direct opposition. He supposes that he has decided that a while back. She’s rather charming to talk to in between the banter. He gets the sense that the banter, that all of those jabs are to deflect feelings of discomfort and awkwardness. They are for him, anyhow. There is a sense of familiarity in those sassy little quips that offsets the discomforts of continuing to get used to each other. 

Toph does the same thing. Humor and snark, he supposes that the two are as critical as any other survival tool. And so he gives her a sly smile and mutters, “I wonder if having three real dragons at the Jasmine Dragon will bring in business. You can be a mascot!”

“You can be a smoldering pile of decorative ash.” She grumbles. 

.oOo.

Azula can't say that she has thought much of Ba Sing Se since taking it over. She hadn’t particularly had time to dwell on it. Now that she is here the city leaves her with an itch of longing.

Longing that makes no sense when the past she is yearning for is so dismal when juxtaposed with the present.

Maybe it is that she hasn't felt the same sense of victory and accomplishment since then, perhaps that is what she is longing for–a chance to feel glorious and powerful again. Especially now when she is feeling so utterly useless. 

Really there is no reason for her to feel useless and like deadweight. It isn’t as though they need her to firebend right now. They aren’t in combat at all. So long as she can walk and talk, she isn’t holding anyone back. 

And yet it chews at her in the back of her mind, knowing that she can’t bend effectively at the moment should the need arise. 

It shouldn’t affect her so. It isn’t as though she hasn’t lost her bending before. It isn’t as though she can’t be effective without it. When had she let her confidence slip so much? She hopes that it is just a matter of getting used to her new life, to people caring for her and letting her be weak when she needs to be weak. 

“You haven’t bickered with Zuko all day.” Mai notes. “Are you…”

“I’m fine, Mai. I just…I’ll be more comfortable when we get to the Jasmine Dragon.” More comfortable and less all at once. She’d be lying to herself if she said that the prospect of finally confronting uncle isn’t playing a part in her exhaustion. 

“Are you actually fine or are you just saying that?”

“I am actually fine.” She isn’t bleeding or dying. She has certainly dealt with much worse. “I should feel better tomorrow, after sleeping in a bed.” Not that mother and father aren’t comfortable to sleep by. They don’t seem to mind that she usually ends up clinging to one of their tails in her sleep. They don’t make a point of bringing it up either. She kicks a small rock and watches it skitter down the walkway. 

Most people don’t seem to pay her any mind, if anything they are taking curious peeks at the peculiar entourage as a whole; an Avatar, a Fire Lord, a Bei Fong, two dragons in disguise, and a princess with a strange stone embedded in her arm. Add two Water Tribe folks, a Kyoshi Warrior, and a darkly dressed fire noble and they do make quite the spectacle. Not one of them seems to outshine any of the others. And Azula is perfectly content with that, she can’t imagine that Ba Sing Se’s hostility towards her has been reduced. 

Regardless, she can’t imagine that they recognize her. Most people are still looking for a grown woman. Word of mouth and information gaps allow her the luxury to stay hidden in plain sight. She doesn’t plan on correcting them and she will go about her day.

“You ready?” Zuko asks.

Azula shrugs. 

“It isn’t so bad, uncle didn’t hold it against me when I betrayed him.”

“Uncle was angry at you because he loved you enough to feel betrayed.” 

“Are we still talking about Iroh?” Mai asks. 

“Mostly.” 

TyLee slings an arm over her shoulder and she gives a slight start. It has been so long. Long enough for her to forget about TyLee’s sudden and explosive displays of affection. She hadn’t realized how much she has missed them despite how annoying she found them to be. 

 “You must love us a lot then!” 

She doesn’t deny it. “Let’s go inside and get this over with.”

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Sokka #Dragon Azula #Zuko #Fanfiction

[purenguyening]

N A O L I C E + Q T

This one will definitely be long, eheh..

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

Bellow mostly applies to Touhou Project:

More character analysis based on how they appear in the games. It doesn't happen often but I think talk centered round how Touhou characters express themselves through spell cards can add a lot of depth that doesn't come through in fanworks.

More fanworks that draw from their historical inspiration (this limits to a small cast of characters but I feel like Historical Touhou is very rare...I also understand why this doesn't happen much mostly due to high barrier of entry and in general requiring more work.)

Also a huge fan and will always welcome Touhou designs that pull from the artist's nationality. It's a fun twist and I'm always impressed when they incorporate design elements from the original outfit into the clothes.

A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

Sakuro and Cleru during my Summon Knight: Swordcraft Story playthrough made me laugh a lot. Sakuro is a very, very silly Craftlord. They have a very similar dynamic to Steven and Brendan's relationship from Pokemon Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald (though I feel like Emerlad is probably the better fit to their dynamic).

There's a few others but Giyuu/Tanjirou and Sabito/Tanjirou are on my mind because of [this fanart]

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

Alright, I had to have Youtube randomly shuffle my Summer Recap but it pulled up Fifty Fifty's Cupid and it just reminds me of Devil Survivor as a whole for the sole reason I read all eight volumes while listening to this song on loop at 1.25x speed. It's really funny of all the songs I put on loop throughout the summer, it happened to pick one I actually have some association with a fandom....

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves. (Characters you’re neutral about are fair game, as are characters you merely dislike. Characters that you absolutely loathe with the fire of ten thousand suns are exempt, as there is no point in giving yourself an aneurysm over a character that you hate.)

Major spoilers for Swordcraft Story: I really like Ureksa a lot as a character, he's portrayed in a pretty sympathetic manner and I think how he patches things up with Cleru/Pratty is really refreshing. While I don't love the suicide bait and switch, it really does feel clear to me even if he made some pretty bad decisions, I do think he's a kind person at heart. He's a very prickly person, but I think it makes sense from his design (a lot of spear specialists tend to not be very direct, which makes sense for their fighting style, the game specifically sets up spear users to fight at a range).

Now that I think about it, Matsuoka Rin (Free!), is also someone I warmed to eventually because I liked seeing him be a mentor to Aiichirou and Momotaro. I think that's part of his character design though...

As an aside, it is possible to send me this prompt multiple times since there's very few characters I actively hate and I always have something tucked away in the back of my mind. Most of the time is me wanting to comment their role in the story, but I think that can be read as me recognizing their purpose....

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?

Not tumblr, but on Twitter, I do think it's really easy to lose interest in fandom because it's very easy to fall into negative spirals. There is a general shift in fandom overall that made me feel the need to keep my interests separate with side blogs and I tend to be more active through a very closed off account on Twitter.

Maybe one day I'll be courageous and blog about my interests from my one main blog, but that's still an option off the table for now.

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will.

Toyosatomimi no Miko/Soga no Tojiko the popular fandom portrayal just gets on my nerves and I find it really annoying when sometimes posts still appear because the ship name is not mentioned anywhere in the tweet. I do have a specific portrayal but I'm hesitant to say if's romantic, but i do think their dynamic is interesting, I just can't bring myself to think of it as romantic.

This might be more closer to me complaining I wish I had post block on Twitter/Tumblr Mobile.

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

I think a long time ago I made a joke about how the fanon portrayal of Shinichi drinking coffee is a subtle way for him to drive away people bugging him. (Caffiene is a natural insecticide, hence the word play). Truth be told I'm not 100% sure now if that was the inspiration for this post I made...

I think maybe you can still find it in the KaiShin discord, but I felt like there's a lot of innuendo to be had knowing Toichi and Yuusaku having a back and forth with just a question mark and exclamation point. (The symbol that combines both the question mark and exclamation point is called an interrobang and it looks like this: ‽)

I don't think either of them spawned too much in the fandom, but I realize my sort of humor needs like a short essay just to explain the context and this is probably why I don't really share my more cracky/insane interpretations....

Q - A fandom you’ve abandoned and why.

I think the only true fandom I've completely abandoned is Harry Potter? Aside from the obvious reasons, I've learned I still do really love the concept of magic, but I would rather have it manifest itself in different ways. I love fantasy and magic, but I think I end up preferring it to be a back drop or the setting rather than the primary focus. I guess it's more closer to, I like it more as an aesthetic, but dislike it when it becomes the center focus.

Even more controversial fandoms I never can quite fully bring myself to fully abandon (the one that mainly comes to mind is Hetalia). A lot of other fandoms that are less contentious I tend to just cast aside for a while but after a few years I end up picking it back up again for one reason or another.

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 

Listen, I know it's basically confirmed now that Futo killed Tojiko as of Strange Creators of Outer World, I still refuse to believe Futo actually did it. The closest thing I'll compromise on is Futo's definition of killing Tojiko is "she was not present to stop the murder." That's about it.

I'm basically a Futo apologist and I'm sorry you had to find out this way.

#asks #blossomingardently #thanks for stopping by!

[gojoest]

Whats ur no 1 advice ever (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

hmmm idk if it’s my #1 advice ever but for the past few years there’s one i’ve been trying my best to stick to for my own wellbeing and sanity— “you’re not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm”

you can’t always be there for others. some days you’re in a bad headspace yourself or you just have too much on your plate, or you’re just tired and socially drained etc etc and that’s ok ! you don’t have to justify yourself to others. you’re your most important person and priority and ppl who care about you will understand and those who don’t— you know the drill, they don’t belong in your life

pspsps… let’s talk !

#[ ai—mail ] #ᓚᘏᗢ — meowtuals

[johnmelodyme]

So, a plausible Zombie Apocalypse is around the corner?

First thing first, for those who ask "what exactly is Zombie Apocalyspe?". The zombie apocalypse is a kind of pandemic that will spread quickly across the world and kill millions of people in just one day. It could be caused by an unknown virus or bacteria that will turn people into zombies which can be controlled by humans but not fully controlled by humans. Zombie apocalypse is a scary and dangerous phenomenon that can happen to any country. It is a real threat to humanity. 

The last time I watched a horror movie, the story was about a virus that turned people into zombies. As I was watching, I couldn't help but fear the worst-case scenario of this happening in real life. "What should we do?" many panicked while the recent news hit headline, "Scientists Revived 48, 500 years old Zombie virus" 

I suggest get prepared, genius! Here are some tips from my opinion for surviving this apocalypse. 

These are the 7 things you need to do when there's a zombie apocalypse.

Immediately turn off every electronic possible. (alarms setting, and phone must be mute).

Get dressed up. (A much durable attire, avoid suits(bruh, You are not John Wick))

Barricade your windows and doors (block with heavy objects)(Best move these items when it is heavily raining outside)

MOST IMPORTANTLY “SHUT THE F*** UP”. Zombies are not your sex partner, they won’t feel pleasure from the noise.

Survive for 2 weeks indoors. (Anticipate as more people will be dying in the street, killed and being eaten. Usually, people will panic and etc) Let mother nature gets these zombies rotted the flesh. (less protein, the poorer the cognitive capabilities of the zombie)

Research and plan. (Research by listening to the radio, or fly a drone if you have one (Do not go out yet)

If you're planning on surviving a zombie apocalypse, you need to know what weapons to get.

1. Hatchet - A hatchet is an essential tool for chopping wood, which you'll need to do if you want to have any chance at staying warm. And there will be plenty of zombies that need hacking up with your trusty hatchet!

2. Tactical Knife - A knife is another must-have item if you want to survive in a zombie apocalypse; it's useful for everything from chopping wood to skinning animals and even killing zombies (of course).

3. Guns - You can't beat guns for sheer stopping power—they're great for shooting zombies in the head and dropping them fast! You'll want several types of guns so that you can defend yourself against different kinds of enemies: pistols, rifles, shotguns… whatever works best for your situation!

I can't show it here. You got the idea.

4. Archery - Bow hunting has been around since before the dawn of civilisation; it's nothing new! The bow and arrow are easily one of the most effective ways to hunt game; they're also great for taking out zombies because they require very little skill or practice (unlike firearms).

5. Baseball Bat: A baseball bat is a versatile weapon that can be used for both close-range and long-range attacks. It can also be used to crush a zombie's skull, or knock its head off in one fell swoop.

6. Sledge Hammer: A sledge hammer is another great weapon for breaking the skulls of zombies with ease. It can also be used to smash through walls and doors to escape from enclosed spaces.

7. Machete: You'll need this for chopping through brush and branches, as well as for killing zombies.

If you're planning to survive the zombie apocalypse, these are the items you need to have in your kitand here are the most important items to stock up on in case the worst happens:

1. Walkie-Talkie: A must-have for staying in contact with your team members and keeping tabs on them when they're out of sight. It's also good for communicating with other survivors who may be nearby.

2. Ready-to-eat packet food: This is good to have on hand if you don't have time to cook or don't want to risk fire being seen by zombies or other survivors. It's also great if you can't find fresh water—just add a packet of water purifier and voila! You've got yourself some hydration!

3. Multitools: These little gadgets are incredibly handy in any situation—you never know when your car might break down or you'll need something fixed on your house that can't be done by hand alone!

4. Binoculars: If you don't already own a pair of binoculars (and even if you do), it's important that every member of your team has their own set so that when one person

5. Lighter: You'll want one of these handy for starting fires to keep warm and cook your food. And if you're lucky, you might even be able to use it as a weapon!

6. First Aid Kit: You don't know when you're going to get a cut or scrape that could become infected under these conditions, so it's important to have some first aid supplies on hand.

7. Collapsible water bottle: Water is precious during this time, and you can't risk running out of it. A collapsible bottle will help keep your supply safe and accessible.

8. Lock-picking tool: If there's one thing that everyone who knows what they're doing will agree on during a zombie apocalypse, it's this—you need a lock-picking tool so that you can get into safety once it becomes clear that your current location has become unsafe.

9. Torchlight: A compulsary for navigating dark areas and finding things in the shadows!

[in-ei]

Ninternia: The Ultimate Elemental

Chapter 9: From Ice To Life

"Hey, I don't think freezing yourself will unlock your powers," Khan said, joining Cyrus outside in the snow ."If that was how it worked, I would've just set myself on... nevermind." He sighed, and kicked at the frost under his feet. It had only been a day since the fire. A place that had withstood the test of time, destroyed in a few hours. Cyrus felt a tightness in his chest whenever he thought about it. Perhaps he was malfunctioning.

Not to mention the missing pieces the siltharaa had taken. They weren't sure how to get those back yet. The backup plan was if they didn't run into the snakes again, they'd go to the waterfall door Shadow had found. Khan was not happy about that plan. 

A frigid breeze blew down the mountain, causing his companion to shiver a little. As a robot, or rather nindroid Cyrus didn't react to the cold, and strangely, neither did the reason he was out here.

Shadow just sat far above them, on the branch of a snow covered fir tree, her cloak flapping in the wind. You could see the disturbances in the snow where she had climbed, yet it still looked almost impossible to reach her perch, and Cyrus had seen her get there.

"Why are watching her?" Khan asked.

"I was built to protect those who cannot protect themselves," he stated. "Someone should supervise her, she is a child. What if she falls?" 

"If she falls?" Khan scoffed. "She thinks she's a squirrel! And I'm sure she can pro-HEY!" He yelled as a branch dumped its share of snow on him. Shadow, who had jumped on it causing the white powder to fall, landed on her feet beside them.

She looked at Khan "Careful what you say. You never know who's listening."

"See?" Khan said, trying to get the snow out of his hair "No protection needed."

"Sure, if you want to freeze," Katara said, throwing a black parka at each of them as she came out of the bus. "But if you'd rather not, I'd wear the jacket."

"That wasn't what I was talking about," he muttered, shrugging it on. The rest of the Guardians soon joined them, all dressed in the parkas, each trimmed in their respective colors. Katara herself only wore a plain, black cloak like Shadow's atop her gi. Atalie followed, shivering in her thin long sleeve.

"The third piece of the Blade of Elements is, well, the blade. The Vault is at the top of Tuinval Mountain, the tallest mountain in Ninternia." Atalie explained, "No human that's attempted the climb was ever seen again."

"There's a reason for that, " Katara said." Tuinval Mountain is the home of the winter contingent of the Last Liegion, or, in other words, the last home of the winter elves. Well, that and the subzero tempatures."

"That's where you grew up?" Jaya asked.

"Not exactly." Katara replied. "Anyways, I'm sure you've noticed how warm the jackets are. They should keep you from freezing. I also worked a technoband into the right sleeve. It's not as high-tech as mine, but it has a grappling hook, spike, and a couple other things for the climb. There's also a communication device worked into the hood so we can hear each other over the wind. Any questions?"

Cyrus watched as they put the new jackets on. Clay's was trimmed in orange, Khan's in red, Jaya: turquoise, Ren had blue, and Shadows was all black. The young girl had to take off her cape to put it on and she didn't seem happy about it. Cyrus's own trim was ice blue.

"May I asist you with that?" R.A.L.I. inquired, approaching Cyrus.

"Of c-course," he stammered, allowing her to help him put the parka on. After she'd zippered it up, she stood there for a second, just looking at him, before going back inside. It was only the Cyrus realized he was holding his breath.

Wait... I do not require oxygen.

He frowned, perplexed. He really needed to get Katara to do a full systems diagnostic. He was about to call for her when a sudden movement caught his optical sensors.

Cyrus looked up to see Katara lying in the show, Clay on top of her as he'd dove into her. Where Katara's head had been was a grappling hook, now buried in the wood of a tree.

"Oops, my bad" Shadow said innocently.

Katara glared at her as Clay helped her up, both of them brushing off show. The others exchanged looks. None of them were sure if Shadow had simply been testing her technoband, and misfired, or if... they'd just witnessed an attempted murder.

Ren coughed, "So..."

"The jackets are powered by a fire sapphire, an elven gem. It's in the reinforced pocket. If you open it..." Katara trailed off, looking straight at Shadow as if daring her to see what would happen.

"Okay, how about we spread out and practise?" Jaya said before Shadow could do anything. As they started climbing short ways up the cliff and dropping back down, Cyrus approached Katara.

"Could you run a diagnostic on me?" he asked her.

"Sure, something wrong?" she tapped at one of her technobands.

"I have been feeling unfamiliar sensations of late, such as a fluttering in my chest, losing my train of thought, and, most recently, a tightness, like my core is being squeezed."

Katara paused and looked at him. "R.A.L. I. around whenever you feel the first two?" 

"Yes."

"And the tightness, did that start after the fire?"

"Affirmative."

She gave him a small smile. "Nothing wrong with you Cyrus. Those are just natural reactions to love and loss."

"But... I am a machine. I am incapable of feeling emotions."

"You're a lot more capable than you think, more so than some other people. Now come on, we should start climbing. We don't want to get stuck on the cliff face overnight." As she and the others began their final preperations, Cyrus just ste there, thinking; she's wrong I'm not like them. I'm not alive. I can't feel.

No matter how much I want to...

Hours later, he was much more concerned with physical ways of feeling rather than emotional ones. They were thousands of feet above the ground, clinging to the rock face in the middle of a blizzard. Cyrus was just wondering why he was capable of feeling such cold when something grabbed his arm, and pulled him into the mountain.

He yelped, but quieted after realizing it was just Katara, who had been ahead him. She gave the others the same treatment. Clay and Jaya were startled a bit. Khan screamed and flailed around in the show before coming to his senses. Ren freaked out and fell, so they had to pull him back up. It was a good thing they'd tied themselves together. Shadow on the other hand...

"What the-" she rolled while holding Katara's arm, using the momentum to throw the poor elf into a nearby snowbank

"Kat!" Clay shouted, going to help her while Ren and Khan cracked up.

"I think we're going to get along," Khan told Shadow. She glared at him, then flicked her wrist. Next thing they knew, a knife was pinning his hand to a nearby tree.

"Keep telling yourself that," she said.

"Are we at the village?" Jaya asked, changing the topic.

"Not yet," Katara replied, spitting out snow and glaring at Shadow. "Come on."

After they released Khan from the tree, they continued their journey into mountain peak. Looking up, Cyrus could see a widening strip of sky that looked blue instead of cloudy. As for the rift itself, the entrance was narrow, about a foot wide, but the walls soon began to open up.

It was warmer inside the crack, likely because there was no wind. Small trees and bushes grew here and there. The snowfall was light, just enough to cover the ground in a pristine white blanket. It was so peaceful...

"When we get there, follow my lead. My kind don't trust humans and with good reason. You'll be the first humans to step foot in it as far as I know. Anyways, just be on your best behavior," Katara finished.

"This group? Never," Shadow smirked.

"Never say never," Ren grinned

"Why not? You just said it twice," she countered.

"Ooo, she got you there Sparky." Khan snickered.

"You're just jealous I have powers and you don't!" Ren shouted back.

"Just wait till we finish the Blade, then we'll see who's jealous!" Khan spat.

"Wait... you think you're going to be the Ultimate Elemental? Oh, this is rich" Shadow laughed.

"How? I'm perfect for it," Khan glared, a little miffed that a little kid was laughing at him.

Before anyone could respond, seven white clad figures surrounded them, some from the snow, others from above. Each of them held a knife, and had a bow and quiver of arrows slung across their back. One of them stepped forward, jabbing their knife into Khan, ice blue eyes boring into his warm hazel ones.

"How do you know of the Blade of Elements?" they hissed in a low voice.

"Leave him alone," Katara answered, stepping between them. Thankfully, the knife hadn't done any damage. The Guardians tensed, unsure if they were going to fight or not.

To their surprise, the one who'd Khan pulled down his hood and face mask, revealing a surprised looking, raven haired elf.

"Katara?" he whispered. She froze, then pulled her own hood back. Next thing Cyrus knew, the two elves were hugging each other and talking in a strange language. The rest of the elves relaxed, and put their weapons away.

"So... they're friendly?" Ren asked.

"Yes" Katara said, "Everyone this is my uncle Levi.  He-"

Cyrus never heard the rest of sentence because someone grabbed behind and pulled him...

Into the rock?

"Some advice, if anyone grabs you from behind, resist." Shadow said, dragging from him along a passageway carved into the rock. The blue tinted rock. The reflective, blue tinted rock. That was cold to touch.

Oh, it was ice. The further along they got, the more reflective the wall's became. Soon, the floor became too slippery too run, but instead of slowing down, Shadow started skating. More or less helpless to stop, Cyrus just let her pull him, watching the strange phenomena of the walls reflecting  each other into infinity.

It was somewhat mesmerizing to watch. Whenever he looked, there was hall after hall, identical to the one they were in. Strings of bioluminescent microorganisms were frozen in the ice, giving off an odd light, only adding to the uncanny beauty. And of course each hall had its own Shadow and Cyrus. The nindroid found himself wondering if one of them were the real ones and he was the reflection.

"Whoa, slow down Dreamer Bot!" Shadow called as she let go of his hand, flinging him forward....

Straight toward a ravine.

In a panic, Cyrus grabbed for the doorway, and managed to swing himself sideways. He promptly crashed into wall.

Shadow skated over to him. "I don't suppose you know how to get across?"

"I do not even know our current location," He said, getting up.

She rolled her eyes. "Where do you think?"

Cyrus frowned, attempting to run a scan through the place so he could match it to somewhere in his data base, and... failed. Or perhaps he didn't. He knew where he was now.

"The Blade Vault."

"Maybe there's hope for you yet." Shadow said.

He blinked, then turned his attention back to the chasm. It was too deep to see the bottom, too wide to jump across, and everything was sheer ice, impossible to climb. Across it, Cyrus saw a flight of stairs leading up. There was also the remains of a bridge, a few feet of ice sticking out on either end.

"Any ideas?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I am useless here... Something shuts down modern technology."

"It's all the elemental energy, boosted by the Blade piece. The air's so thick with it, I can almost feel it." Shadow answered, "But that doesn't matter. You can still brainstorm."

"Why would-"

"I meant come up with ideas."

"Oh," Cyrus watched as she sat down an the edge of the cham, lege dangling over the darkness, muttering nonsense under her breath. He didn't make any suggestions. She was a smart girl, and had no lack of ideas. Despite her being over ten years his younger, she'd probably solve this quicker without him. Without his systems, he was nothing more than a fancy toy.

"Well?" Shadow asked him.

"Could you repeat your query?" Cyrus inquired sheepishly.

Is my audio system not functioning as well?

She rolled her eyes. "I was asking if you'd come up with anything because I don't want to get the others when we could bring it back, and rub it Lady Lectures-a-lot and Hedgehead's faces."

Cyrus blinked.  

She sighed. "Katara and Khan,"

"Oh."

"So?"

"I do not have any ideas."

"You have to have something."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Cyrus asked quietly.

"What?"

"Why do you think I have ideas? I am robot, a piece of machinery. My mind is made up of ones and zeros, just programming. I cannot feel, or ever think for myself. Without my other systems, I am nothing," he finished, staring into the void.

"Dunno, you seem pretty sad right now," Shadow commented.

"I-what?"

"And now you seem surprised, little insulted, a bit disbelieving, and confused. Now that think about it, you're confused a lot of the time. Not that I blame you, humans are confusing. Been one my whole life and I still don't get them."

He frowned. "You do not understand. Those are merely simulations of emotions my creator programmed into me so I could seem more human."

"What'd he 'program' you to do?"

"I am built to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

"How can you protect if you can't care?"

"I-But... but..." Cyrus stammered she was wrong. She had to be. Dozens of people over the years had told him he couldn't feel, they couldn't all be incorrect. It was statistically impossible, yet...

If that was true...

Then why did Shadow sound so...

Right?

"Butts are for sitting," she decided.

Cyrus couldn't help it, he laughed. It had been so unexpected, so ridiculous, so simple, that it was perfect.

Shadow smirked. "See? You can laugh too!" She met his eyes. While her face was still locked in a sneer something in her deep green eyes made him question if she was still just trying to make him question his exsistance, or if she was actually trying to help him when she added; "I think the only thing that's stopping you, is that you don believe you can."

Cyrus stared at her, trying to process what she'd just said. For such a long time, as long as he could remember, he'd been told the exact opposite. He could even remember the day he'd stopped trying to feel.

He'd been meditating in a pond when he'd heard a muffled shriek. He'd kicked to the surface. When he'd emerged he'd seen a little girl speeding down a hill on a bike. She was out of control, and heading towards a busy street. A woman in a lab coat was chasing after her, screaming for her to stop.

Cyrus had pulled himself out of the water, and cut the child off, tackling her into the grass. She's been crying, hiding her face from him. She wore a lavender, grass stained hoodie, a pair of thick gloves, jeans, and dirty, purple, sneakers with untied laces.

By this time the woman had caught up with them. "Minnie?! Onh, Minnie, you're okay! You scared me." She'd sobbed as she'd embraced the child. She'd turned to Cyrus, her expresion thankful...

Until she saw him

A look of horror had come over her face. "Get away from us!" Shed screamed 

He'd been so confused. "Ma'am, I'm just trying to help, please-"

"I said get away! No machine could ever care enough to help without being told. You all just do what you're programmed to! I know that now, after - Just go!"

Since that day, Cyrus had never stayed after helping anyone, never remaining in one place for too long. Not until Master Ju had found him, and trained him. He'd changed so much because of one little girl.

And now, here was another making him question himself all over again. Now there was only one thing to do. He needed to know what he wanted. Did he want to be an emotionless droid, or take a chance at being human?

Was it even a choice?

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, searching his mind, breaking every barrier he'd built over the years, and just letting himself feel. Before he understood what was happening, a flood of familiar images he didn't quite recall flooded his mind.

A young man holding him tightly, running through a snowy forest.

The same man, now middle-aged, smiling with pride as Cyrus played with a flying prisimfin.

A very old version of the man, lying in a bed, whispering something to Cyrus, "You'll remember when you're ready. Farewell my son, I wish you the same love and happiness you gave me..."

The man was his creator, his father: Ty Julian. Before he could process what that meant, another wave of emotions hit him, and this one made him collapse.

Pain

Loss

Sorrow

The man flipped a switch on Cyrus's chest, then his eyes closed a final time as he took his last, shuddering breath...

For a second, Cyrus felt a sense of loss and loneliness too big to comprehend. 

Then he felt...

Emptiness.

Blackness.

Nothing.

It was like he was trapped a freezing void. He was completely numb. There was no point to do anything. Only to go through the motions. The cold seeped into him, and took away his senses.

He didn't feel any drive.

Any determination.

Any reason why he did anything.

He just... 

Did it.

Years flashed before his eyes, lost in this haze. He didn't think it would ever end. 

Suddenly, a memory flashed in his mind, of when they were racing through the maze under Lyra, laughing. Other memories of the others poured through his mind.

Ren showing him how to play video games.

Khan talking to him about R.AL.I.

Katara maintaining him.

Jaya explaining the others jokes.

Clay always checking up on him.

Even cold, distant Shadow leading to him to this point.

A warmth began to spread through him, chasing any trace of the numbing cold.

I am Cyrus Zen Julian, creation and son of Dr. Ty Julian, and a pair of the Guardians, my... family.

As soon as he thought the last word, a new set of images fell into his mind, but these ones were strange, blurry, forgien.

Katara slumped in red puddle inside a transparent silver dome.

Half of his power source in the back of a metal hand.

A complete Blade of Elements landing in the intersection of Nelson and LuMonica.

A shadow trapped in a web of lightning, ice, fire, earth, and so many things exploding in light.

His eyes flew open and he bolted upright.

"Took you long enough," grumbled Shadow."You gonna make a new ice bridge, or what?"

"What?" Cyrus asked, disorientated by everything he'd just been through. "You just unlocked. Fix the bridge."

"...."

He quickly realized she was right.

He could sense a new... energy in his mind. He stepped up to the edge of the bridge, and reached out with it... only to create a layer of ice on an existing bridge.

"You've got to be kidding me," Shadow groaned. "It was there the whole time!?! I listened to all that for nothing!?" She yelled out at nothing, before never doing that again.

"Can't stop me," she muttered under her breath, causing Cyrus to look at her in confusion.

When she didn't elaborate, he said, "It appears to be made of the same reflective ice as earlier, making it seem like there is nothing there because of the darkness above and below it. Ingenious." 

"I can't decide if that's straight up brilliant, or downright cruel," she said in response, stalking across the bridge. Cyrus just smiled slightly as he followed her across then up the stairs.

Why was he so calm?

Because that last set of memories weren't memories at all, but rather visions of what was to come, and if he played it right, he could bring an end to this fight.

"Wow..." Cyrus breathed, as they emerged from the stairway. As it turned out, the never before seen by human eyes Tuinval Peak was a ring of stone and ice. The center of it was sunken hundreds of feet down. Within that crater was the last winter elven village.

Cyrus could see the elves homes, some of which were carved half into the cliff, but, thanks to the high walls, it was already dark down there, and there were twinkling lights scattered throughout the buildings. In the center of the village, and by that extent, the mountain, was a tall rock formation reaching all the way up to their level. On the top of it rest a pavilion carved out of ice, inlaid with gemstones. A bridge led from the outer ring to the pavilion, where Cyrus located the blade piece. It was a magical sight, right out of a fairy tale, but it was nothing compared to the view surrounding them.

They were so high up, the storm clouds that had given them much trouble lay below them, surrounding the peak in a fluffy blanket. It looked like a lone island in an endless sea of clouds, tinted in pinks, lavenders, and oranges as the sun began to set. The sky itself was so many colors, Cyrus wondered if he was looking at a rainbow. It was completely breath taking.

I wonder if a moment can last forever... He wondered as he stood on the pavilion, turning slowly, trying to see everything at once.

"Why haven't you grabbed the blade yet? It's freezing up here," Shadow grumbled, ruining the moment. Cyrus sighed as he went to retrieve it. Despite her comment, she didn't look the slightest bit cold. He made a replica of the blade out of ice, and switched them.

"Now we get to do all of that in reverse, yay." she complained, but then a sly smile spread across her face. Cyrus wasn't sure he trusted it.

"What?" he asked hesitantly.

"Do you like sledding?"

#ninternia #shadow kaida #cyrus julian #clay brooks #jaya lenori #katara anakari #khan lenori #ren walker #ninjago fanfic #least ninjagolike Ninjago fanfic