Design My Own Ninjago Character's Costume!! I Tried Tho, With The Patterns And Everything For Each Characters,

Design my own ninjago character's costume!! I tried tho, with the patterns and everything for each characters, I hope I nailed it.

Anyways, here's a closed ups

And the shortest and tall trio be like :

OH MY GAHHHHHH THIS IS SO AAAAA

feeding us some GOOD GOOD FOOOOOOD

I CANT WAIT TO SEE WHERE THIS GOES FJFKDKS

The Red String Theory (01)

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗠𝗼𝗼𝗻 - 满月之夜 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁

On the night of the winter solstice, you were born.

As soon as your name left your mother’s lips, she collapsed from exhaustion. You were then wrapped in a swaddle of blankets by the kind nurse who agreed to help when your mother pounded on her door, with her water broken and tears streaming down her cheeks.

She had then gone into labour in the nurse’s house and finally gave birth to you after hours upon hours of extensive labour. You vaguely remember the full moon that night. It was luminous and cast its soft beams of moonlight down onto you from the tall windows of the nurse’s home. 

She’d taken a long time to heal, and even longer to go back to work after giving birth. If not for Hanoh, you’d both have starved to death on the streets. Sometimes though, you spotted a sad look on Hanoh’s face when she looked at your mother leaving for the palace. You never thought much of it.

Besides, why would you? As long as you have a roof over your head, food on the table, and both of them, you’re content as is.

Time passes by quickly when your days are filled with mere thoughts of when your next meal will be, along with what toy or trinket your mother would bring back from her excursions from the palace. Many mornings she’d lay down next to you on the rickety bed, and you’d both wake up around the afternoon. 

You’d been taught how to do chores since you could walk, with Hanoh instructing you on how to handle peeling potatoes with a small knife. One can only imagine your mother’s outrage when she returned to your bandaged hand full of nicks and scrapes from amateur handling of the knife. 

That day, they both got into a fight, and the sound of your crying was the only thing that stopped them. After that, they never argued in front of you again. Hushed whispers with barely concealed anger was the most of it.

You were only ten when you were brought to the palace for the first time.

Your mother calls out to you, and the very mention of your name makes you flinch. The times she used your full name were rare, and this was no exception. Usually, she’d call you BaoBao, a nickname filled with affection and love.

“Yes, mama?” Her hands brush against your ear, tying up the silky strands of hair with a simple red ribbon. She fastens the knot with a satisfied smile, placing her hand on your cheek and cradling it. 

You tilt your head, unsure of how to react. You study her face, trying to discern if you did something wrong. Her eyes are weary, you notice, with tiny wrinkles beginning to appear on the corners of her eyes. Her skin is still as dewy as ever, though hints of age and exhaustion begin to dim that glow. 

She’s never looked more beautiful.

“Listen BaoBao, we’re going to the palace now. The Lord wants to see you.” 

The mention of the Fire Lord is enough to make you stiffen, taking a step back and shaking your head unsurely. “Don’t wanna.” 

“Please, BaoBao?” You can tell that she’s a little desperate, from the way her smile becomes more forced. The feeling of desperation is unfamiliar to you, but you can tell that it’s important to your mother. 

“...Okay,” You agree, tugging on the hem of your shirt. The material is patchy in some places, a testament to the number of times that she’d sewn together and mended the tattered shirt over and over again. It’s not the prettiest shirt in your wardrobe, but it’s your favourite.

“Thank you,” She breathes a sigh of relief, her fingers gripping your forearms a little too tightly. It’s painful. You wince, but no expression of pain escapes past your lips even if it hurts. You didn’t want to make her sad. Not after the many times she’d come home with tears in her eyes, sobbing quietly in the corner of your room. 

Ever since you could remember, you grew up in the same house as the nurse who had helped your mother give birth to you. While your mother went to the palace every day, Nurse Hanoh took care of you, from feeding and changing your clothes to even reading and writing.

You never questioned why she had taken you both in so readily, and neither did your mother. Once, you had questioned if she was your grandmother, but all she did was look at you sadly in response. Mother just told you to never ask again.

The guard brings you both to the palace after she dresses you in a new shirt you’d never seen before. The golden colour reminds you of the sun, and decorative swirls around the hem are pretty enough to keep you distracted. The material is smooth, unlike the small itches you’d get from your usual clothes. 

“Now BaoBao, do you remember your manners?” Your mother asks with a shaky smile as you follow the guard to the Fire Lord. You nod enthusiastically. 

“Auntie Li said I was a good girl yesterday for helping her carry her stuff inside!”

Her shoulders relax significantly, gazing down at you warmly. “That’s my daughter.” Her smile falls when she notices where you are, her grip on your hand tightening. 

You copy her bow, keeping your gaze on the ground, looking anywhere but at the person right in front of you. “My lord.” 

The throne room is vast, his throne right at the front and centre above his subjects. His presence is overwhelming, almost frightening. The neighbourhood kids had always whispered scary tales about the Fire Lord, sometimes to the point you’d get nightmares. 

It takes everything in you to not cry. But you can’t, not now. You have to keep it together for your mother. 

“You may raise your heads.” His commanding voice rings throughout the room, demanding attention and respect. You slowly look at him, biting on your lip as you try not to cry. Your mother notices, gently pulling you closer and giving your hand a small squeeze. 

“It’s fine,” She murmurs, keeping her eyes directed at him. 

He scans you up and down, a sort of bored satisfaction in his eyes as he sighs. “Dance for me.” 

Your mother starts to move, letting go of your hand. However, a single gesture from him makes her stop, glancing from him to you. “My lord,” She begins, the shakiness of her voice betraying her, “She is only eleven. She doesn’t know-”

“Dance.” He repeats coldly, his gaze remaining solely on you. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that only bad things awaited if you disobeyed. So, you clumsily copy the movements you’d seen your mother practice at home, almost falling flat on your face had she not helped to catch you.

“I apologise, my lord.”

“Perhaps she may need lessons,” He muses from his throne, before raising his hand in a dismissive wave. “You may leave.” The guards approach you, your mother flinching before she realises that they’re headed for you, not her. Regardless, she stands in front of you protectively, shielding you from them. 

“My lord, I apologise for her disrespectful behaviour. I shall bring her home to ensure her education is no longer put off.”

You didn’t understand most of the words, to be honest. All you can see from behind her flowy dress is the mild intrigue in the Fire Lord’s eyes. He looks directly at you, for the first time since coming into this room. 

Needless to say, you avert your gaze, your entire body shaking in fear that you might be separated from your family if even the slightest of mistakes is made. To your relief, the guards pause from yet another gesture from him. 

“I see. You are both dismissed.”

— — — — — — 

You were only eleven when your mother died.

It’d been a normal day like no other, with you doing the chores as usual. A couple of months had passed since the visit to the palace. Nightmares had plagued you for a week, waking up each time with a cold sweat all over. They eased off though, when your mother began bringing home more trinkets and toys for you, seemingly more lavish each time. 

She always said it was because they had given her more money in exchange for her dancing, and true to her word, Hanoh would find piles of coins beside her bedside table to buy more food and groceries. Life was good. 

That is; until the soldier showed up at your front doorstep.

“What?” You breathe out, all feeling in your legs gone as soon as he delivers the news. 

“Your mother has been executed in the name of the Fire Lord, for showing him disrespect and stealing the princess’s treasured belongings. He has, however, shown you mercy in the form of becoming a maid in the palace. You are to report to Mei Yi first thing in the morning.” The guard replies stiffly, turning around after delivering the news. 

“No…” Hanoh whispers in horror from beside you as you sink to the floor together. It’s hard to accept what you’re feeling right now, all of Hanoh's words rendered mute as silence overcomes all your other senses. The ground is all you can see - all you can even focus on, but even that’s blurry. You can sense her warm hands on your shoulders, holding you close to her, but something’s different now.

Your mother’s gone.

Urgent update my little brother is dying 😭

Today we took our little brother to the hospital because he suffers from an infection that affects his breathing and causes him pain. I hope that every living conscience will help us save our young son’s life and donate any amount you can.

Unfortunately, there is no treatment in the hospital for my little. Help us before it is too late.

wink wonk

wonk wink

oh fear oh god, T-28 days till I'm done with this semester and my finals, then I can actually start writing again.

I got so much I wanna write you guys but I gotta focus on my finals, thank you for your patience 😭🫶🏼

ALSO MANIFEST WITH ME I GET HIGH GRADES PLEASE, I NEED ALL THE HELP I CAN GET

| The Red String Theory |

𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

chapter 1 | chapter 2 |

Summary - 总结:

Legend has it that the gods tie an invisible red thread around the ankles or little fingers of individuals who are fated to cross paths in life. Despite obstacles and challenges, the thread remains unbroken, ensuring that the two souls eventually find each other and fulfil their destiny together.