#i want to finish this fic bc i want to read it but it’s so hard 😭

[charlesxavierthirster3000]

Burdened — L. Howlett

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Summary: Based on this request!!!!

CW/Tags: not proofread bc I literally finished this at 5am 😭, Logan is an ASS, a lot lot of feelings, lowk heavy angst I THINK, no use of Y/N, don't like don't read.

A/N: @rambosgirl Ily girlie I really enjoyed writing this :33 I AM SO INSANELY SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG !!!!!!! Also while writing the ending of this my Spotify Smart Shuffle fucking played First Love/Late Spring by Mitski and I swear it knows how fitting it is bro wtaf ok LAST statement but like this is my first 1K+ word fic are you guys proud of me :33 I'm starting this at like 3am so don't bully me if the ending doesnt' make sense ok byeeeeeeeee

WC: 1.6K (get comfy guys) / Navigation

It was unnecessarily irritating. And frankly really, really fucked up.

Anytime you turned your back from a seemingly butterfly-inducing interaction with Logan, you found him all over Jean as if he wasn’t just chatting you up four minutes ago.

Jean Grey was—from what you’ve surveyed over your time at the mansion—not really phased, despite her somewhat established relationship with Scott. She was intelligent and good-natured, flashing you sickeningly sweet smiles in the corridors and occasionally complimenting your outfits as if hers weren’t twice as stunning.

But every time you spotted Logan gazing down at her with the look you thought he’d reserved for your eyes only, the image of perfection the redheaded telepath had materialised in front of you dissipated like a glass of ice left to liquefy under the scorching sun.

Because she never pushed him away, and she was so clearly inevitably attracted, whether she displayed it or not. It was virtually written all across her sharp features, and you knew the same was scripted all over your own when speaking to Logan.

That dip your heart made every time you saw the two’s chemistry from afar; it wasn't just blatant jealousy. 

It was deeper.

It was nastier.

It clung to your insides like a weight you couldn't possibly shake off. The constant sense that you were just a swift distraction, a momentary diversion from the real object of his desire. 

It ate you up from the inside out and exhausted you to no end.

When Storm or Rogue cautiously approached you and tried to console you, you shrugged it off as if it was some uncomplicated highschool sweetheart drama. They knew damn well it wasn’t. Your conflicting feelings for Logan were gradually making you lose yourself— your well-built dignity. You were slowly but surely morphing into someone you didn’t even recognise. Someone who accepted being second best without any contemplation.

All for a man who was immortal. All for someone who presumably considered you a fleeting paragraph in his primitive life while he was an entire novel in yours.

You wanted— needed to locate yourself in the vast body of water which was your feelings. You needed your sense of self-worth to reappear by a miracle, nevertheless, you knew it would take immense time and exertion to track it back down.

But in a wretched attempt to do so, you settled on a fairly elaborate plan and started disregarding each one of Logan’s advances. Suddenly, you conveniently had somewhere else to be every time he approached, you pulled back and overlooked his easy smiles along with the playful banter you practically used to feed off of.

At first, it felt as if you were reclaiming some of your power, spotting his perplexed looks in your peripheral vision as you wandered off to God knows where. But of course, everything you did came back to bite you in the ass. If anything, it only made the truth clearer. He barely even noticed, and if he did, he didn’t give a single shit.

And Jean? She remained unbothered, untouchable— flawless, even. You were the mastermind of this whole game, yet you were the only one losing.

After a particularly humiliating stretch of witnessing Logan and Jean’s shared giggles and stolen looks from across the table, you ultimately found your resolve. Alcohol really was liquid courage, because after a few drinks and several stabs of food, you closed in on them lounging on the couch post-meal. 

Logan’s bare arm was extended across the back of the grimy cushions behind Jean like some kind of cheesy rom-com, cowlicks a prominent silhouette against the weak flickering of the television. But no matter how much you resented them— her, you would never even come by the opportunity to be in the redhead’s position.

“Howlett,” you enunciated, voice sharp enough to slice through the ambient noise like a shard of glass.

Howlett. No other soul could call him that without repercussions. Aside from you. That was why you felt so unique, so distinct from the others, that was the crumb of specialty you were desperately clinging on to.

He shifts to glance over his shoulder, a spark of recognition igniting within him at the sound of your voice—not missing the shred of urgency concealed beneath it. “Hm? What's up?”

You hesitate with your next words, intently but subtly taking in his scruffy features in the dimmed lighting for what felt like it could be the final time. Because after this, you knew for a fact neither one of you could view each other in the same way. You were the one who let him under your skin, you were the one who had to tear him out, and it unfortunately was an agonisingly slow process.

“We need to talk.”

Four words. Yet, it still gave you the sensation of several weights placed upon your back; the unavoidable impending argument, manipulation spat right into your face, and the most dreaded of all, how circumstances would be after tonight.

His expression stiffened mildly as he reluctantly got up from the couch, aged leather groaning beneath his weight. The sensation of Jean abruptly invading the back of your mind was extremely unsettling and even though she appeared unphased, she, without a question, detected your abnormal uneasiness and was gingerly flicking through your thoughts.

Which was apprehensive, to say the least.

Logan fell into step with you as you departed from one of the many doddering living rooms, proceeding to a more secluded space nearing the obnoxious stairs in front of the grand entryway, mansion almost bizarrely silent with all the kids asleep. Jean wasn’t in your head anymore, but she undoubtedly already knew your objectives to the script.

You halted and so did Logan, weight finding its position set upon the auburn wood of the stairs. 

He eyed you with undivided attention. Your stomach threatened to do a fucking flip despite the conditions, the look nearly making you scrap all of this and go right back to being his side piece regardless of the anguish it put your mind through. But you dug your heels in, the clearing of your throat echoing sharply off the vacant walls.

You square your shoulders and tilt your chin up boldly, aiming to stand your ground. “What the hell am I to you? Because from what I see and a whole lot of other people do, I’m just an afterthought. Filler for the gaps Jean left open. Care to elaborate on that, Howlett?” 

He sighed, glancing at the wall behind you as if he was already fed up. “It’s not like that, bub. You’re makin’ it bigger than it is.”

Your blood scorched at the casual dismissal. Your voice inevitably rose but doesn’t go over a whisper, “Don’t patronise me, Logan,” you scoff. “I’m not some stupid kid with a stupid crush, so don’t let your ego get out of hand. I’ve watched you get all up on her, and then come to me when she’s got a class. Do you even fucking hear yourself?” 

His jaw stiffened, his own frustration growing. “You really think it’s that easy? I never asked you to get involved. You know how it is with me and her. You don’t get how fucked my life is, it’s your own fuckin’ fault things got messy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go sulk somewhere else, I don’t give a shit how crappy your life is. It doesn’t take much to be a decent fucking human!— mutant, whatever. I’m not gonna let you come crying to me when things don’t work out with Jean. I’m worth more than that. You can’t see that, it’s your damn problem, not mine.”

He was visibly trying to find his footing, and you took it as an opportunity to carry on, “It’s not my fault this got sloppy. You can’t just invite a woman for a nice drive and end up throwing her out the door a moment later. You knew damn well what you were doing to m—” 

“You don’t know what I gotta deal with every day. It’s difficult. I never wanted it to get like this. You were the one overthinkin’ it.”

You shook your head forcefully, exasperation boiling over. “I don’t give a fuck, Logan— stop hiding behind that, you don’t even remember half of your damn life! It’s not messy, it’s cruel. I’ve had my own trouble, but I don’t use it as an excuse to hurt people who care about me. Don’t put all of it on my back.”

He opens his mouth to retort, but you cut him off. “Don’t. Don’t say anything. I’ve dealt with you for half my time here. I’ve had enough of your bullshit.” A flash of remorse graced his eyes but it didn’t do a thing. 

“I’m not your backup plan. I’m not waiting for you to look at me the way you look at Jean. I deserve someone who doesn’t just act like they give a shit. I’ve made my choice and you’ve made yours. I’m done. Goodnight, Howlett.”

With a harsh turn of your heel, you walked away with a heavy heart. But your head was clear for the first time in months, your shoulders were lighter, and the clarity you felt nearly blew your veins out. It would be painstakingly tough to face him tomorrow morning, but you knew you would get over it eventually.

Also i just realised in the morning Washing Machine Heart works WAYYy better but it's whatever I guess 😮‍💨

[ricky-mortis]

So- Spytown?

I’m in love with this au so much

Inspired by @dxppercxdxver ‘s Spies Are Forever/Hadestown AU. Also by @szollibisz incredible, just out of this world art, and @smytherines many, many text posts about it from the past few days.

[findafight]

Why are some of y'all making Robin be so mean to Steve and having them friend break up or their relationship irreversibly damaged for the sake of romo ships why would you do that to them what the hellllll literally biggest case of She Would Not Do That ever.

Sure Robin will rag on Steve but it's friendly! It's as friends! Steve does the same to her! He literally immediately dragged her crush as soon as she came out to him! Their bickering is mutual! They want to combine!! Into one!! Being!! They care so much about each other Steve wants Robin to be happy Robin worries over Steve's injuries.

Why are you making her ignore him or not realize something is wrong with him? Stop trying to replace her with other teens or a romantic interest for Steve! If your (usually whump) fic cannot function with Robin actually being Steve's friend and him talking to her then like. Send her away to visit an old sick relative or something and unable to actually be there and help him. The stobin angst can come from her being unable to actually do anything besides talk him through it to help, being so far away. You don't! Need! To make!! Her mean!! To Steve!! Sure they can have conflict but that conflict should come from a place of deep care, not apathy!! What the fuck!!!

[astrodances]

As the cabin came into view again, Goldie couldn’t stop thinking about how this had to be the coldest night they’d had in weeks and her feathers were turning into little icicles. With the small amount of sunlight left, she could see her breath on every exhale. It was so cold she was getting exhausted much faster than she should’ve and Goldie knew she’d be sick in the morning...if she made it there at all.

May I present...the Ice Queen of Dawson. ❄️

This has been a long time coming, but I finally finished this set of three drawings last week that I've been wanting to draw for the longest time for @lettheladylead's running in circles (the above drawing specifically comes from chapter 4 - it's the exact moment that Goldie sees the cabin again on the way back from trying to get back to Dawson). (Will also say that these are a very happy belated birthday gift to you! :D)

There were a few moments from the Klondike chapters that weren't necessarily major story moments, but the descriptions of them (and especially of the environments/lighting) caught my eye and my heart, and made me want to highlight the beauty of the Klondike, and so here we are.

For this scene in particular, her walk back to the cabin, I got a very vivid image of it while reading it, a sort of tragic twist on a "winter wonderland" and on Goldie looking all icy-pretty, and the angst of the Ice Queen naturally came in to play.

Will post the other two drawings over the next two days - up next: a king in the morning light.

[adharastarlight]

Listen, I haven't read cr yet but my general understanding is that people need to fucking listen when Regulus threatens them

[crescentfool]

What are your ryomina headcanons? I've loved these two since I played P3 FES, and I'm so excited to get back into the fandom^^

hi!! thank you so much for the ask, welcome back to the p3 fandom, it's always a delight to see new and old ryomina fans alike! 🥺💛💙

as for headcanons, here's a "few" i that i tend to come back to a lot! my interpretations of them are influenced from both the source material and other's fanworks, so i've linked to them as i saw fit! hcs in no particular order under the cut because oops this got long (900 word bullet point list, mentions of reload content up to 1/1)

minato's hair is dyed blue (hair originally brown, you can see it in his roots!) and he has a beauty mark on under his left eye. i like mirror imagery and there's definitely a few arts i've rb'd that portray them this way :) (e.g. this one by feliichu and this one by marasschino)

as far as i'm concerned the bathhouse scene from the manga where ryoji's hair down = similar shape to minato? that is canon to me. this art from xierru is a fun depiction of hair down ryoji :D

ryoji is homeless. everyone say thank you foxmulder_whereartthou for this awesome fic it's why i have the headcanon! but like seriously. we have no idea where ryoji lives and i could believe this.

minato dying at the end of the game is sad to an outsider's POV BUT!!! ryomina gets to be together in death for the rest of their lives (this illustration from mafuwara is a gorgeous representation of them as nyx avatar + the seal)!

speaking of the seal, they are like telepathically communicating to me in the great seal together. (mymp3 had a comic wip with this. give it a looksie :D)

ryoji likes cuddling with minato because he's warm :) (something something orpheus has fire affinity, minato is warm by extension and ryoji is cold because he's death)

ryoji's camera roll is filled with pictures of minato! ryoji... loves life, to me. and i feel that photography and journaling are perfect ways of expressing gratitude and capturing the moments in life that are most important to you :3

my other favorite activity for these two is stargazing- i feel like it's something they could appreciate either in life or death (looking at the stars from the great seal...)! they do a bit of this in the fic eurydice's vow by crescentmoontea (P5R spoilers, takes place in third sem it's a very fun fic concept).

between ryoji and minato i feel like ryoji was the one who fell in love first- and it doesn't really click in place for minato that he loves ryoji until december hits (appriser reveal + ryoji transforming into thanatos). its about the realization that ryoji was with him for his whole life and that he gets him like no one else does.

ryoji is like a sad and wet puppy who is so scared minato won't like him back. he is so scared of being rejected by minato to me like. this boy straight up deflates after he does his "i know i said i wanted us to be friends, but... i actually want to be something more." / "what about you?" on 12/1 ???

AND SPEAKING of wet puppy ryoji. ryoji is like. every animal in the world to me. he's a bird. he's a cat. etc. and also ryoji knows every language in the world ever and uses it to express his love for minato. see this fic from superheroics to see what i mean.

both of them are lactose intolerant. "this isn't lactose, it's milk!" i definitely think ryoji would make himself sick eating ice cream and milk he doesn't know what lactose is. (i made a silly poll about this once and the tags were very entertaining.)

i see minato as transmasc or nonbinary depending on the day (schrodinger's headcanons babey they're simultaneously true and not true at the same time!!). either way he's not cis to me and ryoji is like. His Gender. anyway go read this fic by nail_gun for t4t ryomina :D !

ryomina are WEIRD GUYS TO ME!!! they are so strange and they understand each other better than anyone else because of the circumstances of their relationship!!! if you asked them to do the "i wonder what i taste like" meme i think they'd start biting each other (affectionate) tbh but that's just me.

after ryoji gives minato the music box in 12/31 on reload, minato listens to the music box every night in january. this boy has insomnia and also chronic illness to me (things that housing death does to you). but i think he finds comfort in the melody and memories he made with ryoji.

in general, i think it's fun to imagine minato taking ryoji to places and show him things he's interested in! i feel that ryoji takes a lot of interest in minato's life, this isn't really a hc because in reload, minato DOES give ryoji a tour of the school (11/9) and possibly port island (11/12). but ITS CUTE OK! (tangentially related fanwork: this series of doodles from vinnigami: 1, 2, and 3)

not a hc but minato's kindness is like the backbone of their relationship and i think we would not have the ryomina we know and love today if minato wasn't such a kind soul. oh minato.... we can learn so much from you... like ryoji did!

anyway! that's all the hcs that i could think of, thank you for the ask! i had a lot of fun answering this, these two mean a lot to me 💛💙

i hope you don't mind the links to the fanart and fanfic as well, the fanwork people have made for ryomina have really made an imprint on me! if you want to see more of them, i definitely recommend looking through my tag for them because oh. i got a lot of them reblogged alright 😂 (<- SOOO NORMAL)

[3-aem]

reading im courting you now i guess by solarbishop and its so cute i love the characterization its like warm milk for my exhausted brain

[purplepixel]

Spur of the moment out of context sketches from Spider's Web with Strings Attached. Might not seem like it, but I've been going through a mini burn out spell due to overworking myself the past week and allowing myself to create messy sketches of this fic has been a small comfort. So once again, thank you @psychologicalwarclaire for writing this fic. Will always be incredibly thankful I found this gem in the depths of my ao3 searching.

[gothsuguru]

i made so much progress on “butchered tongue” i’m so happy AHHHHHHHHH :3 still a long way to go but i’m gonna pat myself on the back regardless <3

[causenessus]

fighting for my LIFE in this omi fic rn I'M TRYING SO HARD TO WRITE IT IN SECOND PERSON BUT I KEEP DEFAULTING TO THIRD PERSON

[reds-skull]

Revenant Side Stories

Story IV: Price

[Konchar] [Graves] [Gaz] [AO3]

This one is a little different from the other side stories, but I have to say I had a lot of fun diving into the way Price experiences his powers from his POV.

This one is probably the most plot-relevant story, in relation to part 2. Hope you enjoy it!

The human mind is a deceptively complex subject. No person thinks the same way, Johnathan has found - some see images scrolling by, vague hieroglyphs symbolizing thoughts. Others narrate their day-to-day life, to themselves or to an imaginary audience. Once, he came across a woman, who, being deaf from birth, imagined words as hand signs.

He could take decades studying a single person, exploring the connections in their grey matter. If he wasn’t devoted to keeping his hands dirty to keep the world clean, John would’ve considered working in a field more suitable for his powers.

As it was, the people he comes in contact the most become the subjects of his investigations.

The first of his boys was the hardest. John met Simon merely a few months after his own Reaping, while the grasp he had on his powers was far weaker. He remembers the first time he arrived at reading distance from the Ghost; the sharp, fractured mind of the then-Sergeant was like a physical ache in his own, and he had to shamefully retreat to the bathroom to vomit.

They were both newly not-quite-dead, both far too powerful to allow back to the field while they didn’t have a tight leash on their abilities. So, they trained together.

Simon, or Ghost as he insisted on being referred as, really shouldn’t have been cleared to stay in the military. John didn’t have to be a shrink to tell, the choking feeling of the Sergeant’s memories and flashback almost bringing him to his knees countless times.

The kid went through worse than most veterans have. He had the powers to match.

Limbo. An ability never seen before in the entirety of recorded human history, the first revenant of the Void Reaper. The higher brass saw it as a cheat code for warfare.

John saw it as a defence mechanism of a broken man.

Ghost’s mind was his first, and perhaps biggest, hurdle as a commanding officer and as a revenant. It took weeks before he could stand to be in the same room with him for longer than an hour, months for the inky, tar-like miasma coating each of Simon’s thoughts to clear.

Ghost began to trust him. See that John is the closest one to really understand what made him a revenant, the fundamental reason of Limbo’s existence: It was never about being an off switch to hostile soldiers, like General Shepherd treated it.

Limbo was a world in Simon’s full control, a place where for once in his life, he could make sure he wouldn’t be hurt.

But that wouldn’t be apparent, from just watching him on the field, from reading mission reports on his unmatched powers. No other soldier, General, or Spiritulogist saw what John saw.

And while he tried to explain, it all fell on deaf ears.

John carries many regrets in his life, but allowing Limbo to become a hostile realm toward Ghost might be his worst one.

Guilt isn’t an uncommon emotion among soldiers. Some hide it better than others, but Captain Price learned to see through mental walls a long time ago. While he didn’t have the opportunity to peer into many revenant minds, it was even more prevalent in theirs.

That is to say, Kyle Garrick shouldn’t have surprised him.

He met the young Corporal barely two weeks after his death, the sight of crushed bones still terribly fresh in his mind. It didn’t deter Price like Ghost has - he has learned a lot since, lived through worse - and instead intrigued him. Call it morbid curiosity, but the sheer amount of care Kyle has for each and every soldier on his team, dead or alive, was a sign he will go far, in Price’s eyes.

That value, as admirable as it was, was currently eating the young soldier from the inside. Before he could take Gaz under his wing, he was forced to watch from the sidelines as the regret and shame weighed on Kyle’s heart. It gave him a considerable amount of comfort, to watch the man grow when they had the chance to work together.

Despite knowing both of them, Price wasn’t sure how Ghost and Gaz would handle a mission together. He knew they would be as professional as ever, but Ghost’s reputation precedes him by many paces, and it unfairly emphasizes times when he either was out of control due to the unimaginable weight of his past, or under orders.

So it came as quite a shock when Ghost not only complimented the Sergeant, but in his mind thought he would be content with working with Gaz again.

Price was already meaning to get Gaz on the 141, but seeing how well the two mashed with each other made him all the more certain of the need for the taskforce. He initially pitched it to the higher brass with an explanation of the tactical benefits of gathering their strongest revenants and training them together, allowing for the soldiers to explore unique and powerful ways to combine their abilities.

But secretly, it also allows Price to keep an eye on them, be their commanding officer, and make sure nobody will take advantage of those otherworldly powers without taking in consideration that maybe, despite already dying, revenants aren’t any less human than their fellow soldiers.

And for a long time, it was them three, against whatever fate threw at them. The taskforce gained infamy as the only revenant-exclusive squad in the world, mission after mission joining a long line of successes.

It wasn’t all perfect behind closed doors. Ghost’s Limbo continued to be hostile towards its owner, forcing him to work alone. Gaz was still burdened, and while having other revenants around him helped, showing him he’s not alone in his struggles, sometimes it was not enough.

Their team had their flaws, but it was better than any other alternative they had.

Then, Soap found his way in.

Sergeant MacTavish was an odd revenant, even among the unusual. From the first time meeting him, Price noted just how much the Scot seems to repress, even within the comfort of his own mind. Peering in, it was as if thick concrete walls were erected around his thoughts, sectioning off the different parts that made up Soap.

His personal file wasn’t much better - full pages blacked out, especially any pertaining to his Reaping. Price knows the smell of red tape, and Soap’s file was reeking with it.

It brought him years back to Simon, the way both of them appear to be afraid of themselves.

He decided to assign them both to a simple mission. Ghost resisted at first, as he always does when Price tries to get him out of his shell, so to speak. Luckily for him, and unfortunately for Ghost, he has the final word as a Captain.

It ended up a shitshow, because it always does when Price needs it not to. Or, that’s what he thought at first, hearing the initial reports.

Ghost’s demeanor was almost somber when Price asked him about Soap. Regret, and what Price could define as the feeling of missing out, surrounded the Lieutenant’s thoughts. Something about Soap caught his attention.

It took months before an opportunity arose, and an incredible effort from his side to not spill those thoughts accidentally (lest his plans fail, and his boys become disappointed), but Price managed to convince his superiors that the taskforce needs a new member. That member, of course, being Soap.

Price did not foresee just how much that addition will change his team. To say he regrets it would be a lie… but knowing what he knows now, he might’ve considered it longer.

Seeing how happy the three of them are, how things simply click better with Soap around, Price believes he would’ve made the same choice again and again.

Price came across a few revenants in his life, gazed into their thoughts more than once. Each of them were wholly extraordinary. The experience of dying and meeting a Reaper alters one’s mind irrevocably.

Out of all of those revenants, there’s only one that made Johnathan Price feel an innate sort of dread, one whose thoughts were disturbing enough to keep him awake at night for weeks after their short meeting. One that forced his own to a breaking point, made Price physically hear the creaking of his crumbling brain attempting to process what it is seeing.

That mind being, Vladimir Makarov’s.

John’s Reaper isn’t of the chatty kind, the one that tries to control its revenants with an iron fist. For the most part, it let him do as he pleases, occasionally warning him from this mission or another.

The sudden shift between their world and his Reaper’s realm never ceases to send a bolt of shock through him. He has observed minds when they were brought to distant places beyond their understanding. It made his eyes bleed.

This one is no different.

“R-Reaper. To what do I owe the honors?” John asks, wincing as a headache attacks him, brain overstimulated by the shifting shapes around him, concepts he has no words for appearing and disappearing with a blink.

“You are to be sent on a mission in a few hours.” the Reaper responds, a wild mass of flashing lights, like synapses of a starless sky. Price’s gift allows him to see the hidden messages between the words.

“Interest. Warning. Fear.”

…Fear…?

What… could make his Reaper… afraid?

The ancient voice continues, “You will be asked to kill a man. A revenant.”

“Danger. Blood. Enemy.”

John’s brows scrunch in confusion, “Reaper-?”

“You cannot kill that revenant. Under orders of Fate, you will not kill that revenant.”

“Command. Terror. Fate.”

John opens his mouth, to ask one of the billion questions swirling in his mind, but the synapses flash, his body gets the feeling of falling, and-

John gasps, eyes rapidly taking in his surroundings. Back in his office, kicked out of the Reaper realm before he could let out a peep. He sighs, wiping sweat from his brow, nape still tingling with the wrongness of his Reaper’s messages.

Something is scaring his Reaper to obey… ‘Fate’. John’s not sure what exactly that is, but he knows who will.

He’s about to punch in the number of the resident Spiritulogist on base, when a knock sounds on his door. “Open!” He calls loudly, his mind already supplying him with the orders the rookie is about to tell him.

They have a mission lined up for him, and he’s to be debriefed immediately. The rookie mumbles as such, and John waves him off.

His stomach churns in a way it hasn’t for a very long time.

“Bravo 0-6, what’s your status?”

Price brings a hand up to his comms, “solid, in position, no sign of the target.”

The watcher copies his response, clicking off channel. John swallows thickly, adjusting the hold on his sniper. On paper, this mission should be simple - a man named Andrei Nolan has been observed to be making moves in favor of several international criminal rings. The SAS needs him dead, and Price is here to make sure of that.

The intel suggested a possibility of the man being a revenant, but with no confirmed Reaper, the information doesn’t help him in the slightest.

The port he’s overlooking is said to be housing missiles in some of its shipment containers. Nolan will arrive to buy them from a local arms dealer. They would’ve not sent someone like Price usually, but not only did Nolan evade capture several times, he recently ramped up his activity, pointing to a new employer.

Any other day, Price would’ve killed him with no hesitation. Today, however, the words of his Reaper echo within his mind, dread spreading through his synapses, the emotions that coursed through the interdimensional being now flowing through him.

Reapers don’t lie, and his certainly doesn’t mince words. If it didn’t see a reason to warn John, it wouldn’t have.

There wasn’t enough time to explain that to his superiors, though. Humans don’t understand the connection Reapers and revenants have, hell, they barely understand Reapers as a concept, let alone their intricate oddities.

He inhales deeply. John hopes he’s close enough to read Nolan, when he finally shows up. Perhaps the man’s mind might have a clue as to why his Reaper needs him to stay alive.

And as if his thoughts have been heard, Andrei Nolan shows his face. Or… is that Nolan? The description given in the brief fits him, black hair, brown eyes, Eastern European man in his 30s, wearing a black suit and a red tie. But…

His left eye is closed, lower lid pink like it’s infected, and Price can’t tell from the distance, but… there seems to be a red line, almost like a tear, drawn down his cheek.

Price frowns, adjusting the zoom on his scope, analyzing the face as much as he can while the man moves. The seller arrived already, and is now showing “Nolan” the goods, but he doesn’t pay mind to him. The left eye seemingly confirms the revenant status, something about it is unsettling in a Reaper’s way, but if that’s the case, wouldn’t the intel note that?

“0-6 to Watcher.” Price mutters, eyes not straying from the supposed target, “I’ve got eyes on a man fitting the description, but something doesn’t line up.”

“This is Watcher, what is the problem, Lieutenant?”

“His left eye is shut, red marking down his left cheek. Sign of a revenant, don’t know who’s.”

The line goes quiet for a few beats, “...standby, 0-6.”

The crease between his brows deepens, John sighs and waits. The alleged Nolan and the seller are still discussing something, probably pertaining to the deal.

After a few long minutes, his radio crackles, “Watcher to 0-6, we’ve consulted Dr. Novikov.”

The head Spiritulogist of the SAS regiment. If there’s any non-revenant he could trust on such matters, it’s him, “what did he say?”

“No PID. Nolan has not been documented to have markings like the ones you’ve described, and they’re impossible to acquire after Reaping.”

“...So we don’t know who this man is?”

“Negative.”

Price shuts his comms for a moment to curse. He radios back in, “Watcher, requesting permission to move closer to target.”

“Explain your reasoning, 0-6”

“I want to use my powers on him. Check his thoughts, might give us an ID.”

The Watcher’s voice becomes muffled as they talk to another person in the room, “granted. Make sure to not be seen, Price.”

“Copy.” he answers, adding under his breath, “not a bloody rookie, am I…”

He leaves the sniper on the hill he previously perched on, preferring to go as light as possible. The target and the seller have moved since the conversation with Watcher, opening a shipment container and examining its contents. With their backs towards him, Price weaves between containers, climbing up a few to get a better view of the guards.

His range on complete strangers is shite as ever, a disadvantage he can’t train out of him. John stays low, sticking to the sharp shadows cast by the steel boxes, creeping closer and closer to the target.

The target is still focused on the illegal missiles, and he needs to step just a few more meters to get into range-

The man sharply turns, his eye locking with Price’s. A chill goes down his spine, and he freezes in place. He couldn’t have noticed him.

Price’s muscles don’t dare move, thoughts both reeling and dead still, as the man raises a hand, and slowly, slowly peels his left eyelid up.

The red line on his cheek continues up into the eye whites, going all the way into his disturbingly crimson pupil.

The seller stares at the target, expression confused when he is ignored. The target steps forward, and John has to force his legs to stay put and not run, because every single cell in his body screams of danger.

“Danger. Blood. Enemy.”

The target enters his range, and smiles. But why would he smile? He has no reason to, because he doesn’t know that Price is a Revenant of the Mind, doesn’t know the limits of his powers.

He doesn’t. He can’t.

And yet when their thoughts link, the first words he can farce are…

“Johnathan Price… just on time.”

John’s thoughts escape his mind before he can get a semblance of control on them, questions like “you shouldn’t know my name, how do you know my name?!” and “who are you, what Reaper fucking reaped you?”

To that, the target smiles with perfect, unnaturally white teeth, “you should know by now, people like me and you operate in realms considered impossible by most, Lieutenant.”

Price grinds his teeth, forcibly pulling his mind back, taking control of his powers, of what the target sees, “you’re not Andrei Nolan, are you?”

The Target chuckles, “you’re far more pathetic than I expected.” the image in his mind is not of Price, but of the entire SAS. “No, I’m not Nolan. I’ll let you know my true name, because rest assured, Johnathan, we will meet again.”

Price scoffs incredulously. There’s no doubt in the revenant’s mind, despite stating something he couldn’t possibly know.

“You do not believe me.”

“I’ve read enough minds to know an overconfident one by now, mate.” Price glares.

The revenant’s grin widens, peculiarly pleased. “It appears that I need to provide evidence for my claims. Very well.” he sweeps two fingers on the red marking on his face, a sort of thread materializing between them. Price’s breathing picks up, something in the revenant’s mind poking at his, a red haze enveloping his thoughts.

He takes half a step back, eyes wide and staring at the thread hanging from the revenant’s fingers.

“I can promise you, Lieutenant, you will not stay in disbelief for much longer.”

The thread shoots forward in a sudden rush, Price stumbling back, but no man or revenant could escape those unnatural strings.

The moment it wraps around his throat, images begin flashing in his mind.

A burning city, smell of flesh overwhelming his senses.

Emptiness. Living statues, covered in darkness.

Endless skies, clouds and stars, moon and sun, falling and falling and falling.

Piles of broken bodies, some familiar and others not, all far too young to be dead.

A photo passed towards him, of the very revenant that is invading his mind. The smell of alcohol burns at his nose.

Realms beyond his own, a fabric weaved with crimson strings. Hands, knitting it together. Three eyes, identical to the revenant’s.

Words. 

“Fate”

“Unescapable. Indestructible. Unchangeable.”

“Nothing but a puppet on red strings.”

A cruel smile, human teeth grafted onto the blood-red skin of a Reaper. Suffocating satisfaction, unfathomable knowledge, power great enough to bend Reaper will.

“Under orders of Fate, you will not kill that revenant.”

“The Revenant of Fate.”

“Vladimir Makarov.”

The string snaps.

Price finds himself on all fours, shaking. The screaming around him doesn’t die down, and it takes him minutes to realize it comes from his mouth. Little red tears drip between his hands, his eyes crying blood.

The revenant - Makarov - laughs. In his thoughts, the sound bouncing in his cranium, unescapable.

“When I tell you we will meet again, Johnathan, I do not lie.” Makarov says, condescending. “But for now, our business is done.”

He feels Makarov leave his range, not before he says, “you should consider yourself lucky, Lieutenant Price. Not many receive this gift, to see their own fate. Until next time.”

John doesn’t dare lift his gaze for what feels like hours, the shaking in his limbs taking long minutes to subside. Eventually, the dread in his gut lowers enough for him to look up.

The seller’s body lays dead in front of him, shipping containers still full to the brim with missiles. Makarov didn’t come for them.

His only goal was Price.

“This is Bravo 0-6 to Watcher, how copy?”

“...Price?! We’ve been trying to contact you for hours, where have you-”

“Target was not Nolan. He wasn't after the missiles, either.”

“Lieutenant-”

“What do we know about the Reaper of Fate?”

[iaxsl]

no. 6 is so special to me. I can't tell you how much this specific scene rewired my brain chemistry permanently

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday💀

tagged by @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @disasterbuckdiaz @hoodie-buck 💖

hi! so, yesterday I randomly opened the doc with the buddie death cast au - which is a fic I started writing last summer on vacation and never got back to it but then made progress lol it's gonna be MCD, which i know is not everyone's thing so feel free to ignore this 🤣 it's basically buddie in the universe of the "they both die at the end"/"the first to die at the end" books so it's gonna be sad, sorry lol (I never even read mcd, idk why i'm writing this but this idea just wants to be written i guess haha) gotta put this weird mood I've been in lately to good use and finally write this 🤣 not sure if I'm happy with this snippet, but it all needs editing, the first two snippets were written on my phone and haven't been edited yet lol

I posted two snippets so far, gonna link them both snippet 1 | snippet 2

___

“Is all of this clear, Eddie?” she asks in the end.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” he says shortly. He should've just hung up immediately. Or cancel this stupid subscription after Shannon died. Sometimes he wonders if maybe people who get the calls and coincidentally get into accidents, for example, just give up and refuse to fight because they think it’s their time. Not like Shannon could do much, her injuries were too severe when they got there, but the point stands. Maybe they get more reckless, thinking it doesn’t matter anyway. 

There’s a short pause on the line, but then Jane speaks up again, her tone softer, more sympathy seeping through.

“I know it’s not easy to accept, if you’d like some help with that, on out website you can find therapists and grief counselors specializing in-”

“Listen.” Eddie interrupts. He’s spent enough time in therapy. He’s not doing it on his supposedly last day. “I know it’s all bullshit. I don’t care. You said what you had to say, I listened, for whatever reason.” he rolls his eyes. He really should’ve hung up, or not answered at all. “Is this conversation over yet?” he asks and is met with another moment of silence. She’s probably wondering what everyone else always is: why is he even spending money on this if he doesn’t believe. He has an answer ready to go, but that’s not what she asks.

“Can I ask you a question?” she says quieter, whispering, probably not allowed to go too much off-script. 

“Sure, why not.” he shrugs. He’s wide awake now, anyway, he’s not in a hurry. Not like he’s dying anytime soon.

“If it was your last day, how would you spend it? You don’t have to answer, just think about it.” she adds quickly, her tone much softer and gentler now. Eddie’s mind immediately supplies a picture of Christopher and Buck, just a casual hang-out, like usual, maybe going to the movies, or the aquarium, or the planetarium, something fun for his kid. And later a gathering with the rest of their family, maybe a barbecue at Bobby and Athena’s, with Maddie and Chim, and Hen and Karen, all their kids, just everyone having fun together. Yeah, that’d be a perfect day. “There’s no harm in spending today just like this, if possible. Just in case.” Jane adds, still whispering. He doesn’t tell her that’s more or less his plan, anyway, for the evening after his 12-hour shift. During which nothing will happen to him, because Death-Cast doesn’t know shit. “Well, lastly, Eddie,” Jane’s voice is back at normal-volume, tone strictly professional but sympathetic, as she recites the end of her script, “on behalf of everyone here at Death-Cast, we’re so sorry to lose you. Live this day to the fullest.”

Eddie hangs up without a word.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @nmcggg @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @king-buckley @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @exhuastedpigeon @jesuisici33 @theotherbuckley @rainbow-nerdss @malewifediaz @giddyupbuck @diazsdimples @jeeyuns @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks

[lunarrosette]

I have evidence to suggest nark is so powerful ppl don’t even have to listen to the podcast to ship them (I infodumped to my friend abt them and now they’re crazy abt them too)

[honeycreammilkshake]

there will be cake.

i finally finished my first fic, and it's greenflame! it takes place between possession and skybound. i spent a few days on it and i'm still not satisfied... it still feels a bit ooc and amateur to me, but please let me know what you think. here it is...

Sitting down for dinner with the other ninja, Kai had no intention of talking about anything serious, let alone marriage, and especially not how he should go about proposing to Lloyd. But picking at his bowl of chili, he looked around to his friends, watching them talk about their day with animated expressions and exaggerated hand gestures, observing Cole and Jay arguing about every detail of their training so they could trade insults while blushing whenever anyone (mostly Zane) pointed out just how closely they'd have to be watching each other to know such minor things about their routines. And when Kai glanced over to his sister she was already glancing his way with an exasperated smirk at Cole and Jay's antics.

The only absent one was Lloyd. The Green Ninja was training late, as usual, pushing himself to his limits. The perfectionism was at first a little annoying for Kai, who tended to take any show of exertion as a competition against him, but overtime he'd learned to accommodate his boyfriend, who was typically late to dinner or outings with the rest of them. The pressure Lloyd must have felt, every single day, to not only lead the rest of them but to also make his pretty much godly ancestors proud of him had been grinding on him even more as of late, and Kai didn't want to add to their young leader's troubles. Still though… after their last battle, almost losing Lloyd to possession had made him keenly aware of how fragile the normalcy of all their lives were.

At any time, they could find themselves under attack once more. Ninajo had a reputation for attracting the most dark-hearted, vengeant, and power-hungry of villains, and Kai had to wonder if there was some kind of sign posted out for all the tyrants coming to seize this particular place. Something massive and neon was advertising how siegable and conquerable this entire land was somewhere, he was sure.

But as a ninja, bound and entangled with all the rest of his team (a fate he would never want reversed or changed in any way), he knew he would lay down his life for any one of his friends if it ever came down to it. And, naturally, he knew in his heart that no matter how much he teased or gave Lloyd trouble, he would stand behind that completely unhinged god-in-training no matter what. Wherever Lloyd led him, he would follow. And it was because of this that he knew he had to make their relationship even more official, even more sacred, so that when villains like Morro or Chen or the rest came knocking again, Kai would know there was still a chance at a normal life, even a small part of it, in their own lives. That he could say that Lloyd was his in more way than one and come back home to that small piece of stability.

Now, watching his friends continue to taunt and push each other, a warm feeling suddenly overtook Kai, not unlike the sensation he got whenever he drank a nice cup of Wu's tea. He felt it blossom inside of him, a hot and protective surge that came whenever he thought of the others, especially Lloyd. He knew he could trust them completely, he could ask anything of them and they wouldn't treat him any differently for it.

So it was without any filter that he found himself asking, "Guys, if I were to hypothetically propose to someone… someone who's very uhm… career-driven and practically all-powerful, how would I go about asking them to do something absolutely ordinary like marriage?"

A small silence briefly overtook the table as the others, except for Cole who was still digging into his plate without interest in anything else, glanced around towards each other. Nya, on Kai's left side, was completely still all of a sudden and opposite him Zane and Jay exchanged looks.

Just as the stillness was starting to become unnerving, Zane, always practical, broke in, "Logically the best way would be to—"

"Oh my gosh, you guys," Jay all but shrieked. "Kai and Lloyd are going to get married!"

"Wait what????" Kai burst out, feeling his cheeks start to heat up. "I didn't say anything about—"

"Oh please," Jay scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You're the fire ninja, Kai, so whatever you're trying to cover up, you still burn holes right through it." He was picking at his bowl of chili delicately, like most of its contents offended him, and by the way he had complained about every other dish Cole had prepared for them, you would think it was genuine. But Kai knew the Blue Ninja would sneak lots of extra helpings of Cole's meals whenever he thought they weren't looking. And seeing as how most of Cole's food was… to put it plainly… bad, Kai knew it was because Jay was simply (and not so secretly) completely crazy for the Earth Master.

"You guys thought it was such a secret, but we could all tell what you were up to," Jay continued, matter of fact, then smirked. "The walls here are really thin, you know."

Kai groaned and buried his face in hands. "Okay," he sighed out. "So what if it is Lloyd?"

"I knew it!" Zane exclaimed from Cole's side, face lighting up. When the others looked to him, he explained, "Pixal told me they have a 95% compatibility rate. Lloyd's sensitivity and high emotional intelligence counterbalances Kai's hotheadedness and temper—"

"Yeah yeah we get it," Kai huffed, feeling called out.

"My vitals monitors indicate that your heart-rate speeds up whenever Lloyd appears," Zane added helpfully. "My data also suggests that Lloyd's libido increases whenever he watches you training."

Beside him, Nya made a choking sound. "Oh my god," she gasped, wiping away dribbles of water from her lips. "Please never say libido again, Zane."

Despite the embarrassment at having his secret relationship exposed so quickly, Kai couldn't help the way that information stroked his ego. All the time that little brat had been claiming to watch so closely to point out errors in Kai's form (as he always did) he was secretly checking Kai out shamelessly. It made him flush with more than a little contentment, but he got a hold of himself quickly, and managed to grit out, "Okay guys, that's enough."

"Where would they even get married though?" Jay pushed on, ignoring Kai entirely.

"Somewhere big enough for all of us," Zane pointed out. "I can compile a list of popular wedding locations and analyze them for suitability."

"No no," Jay dismissed, whipping his spoon around passionately so that a bit of chili hit Kai in the face. He wiped it off with a grimace as Jay continued to lecture Zane. "It should be somewhere perfect for the both of them..." Jay bit down on the handle of his spoon and then grinned widely at Kai. "I know just the place—my parent's junkyard!"

Kai blinked, caught off-guard. "Jay, I'm not marrying Lloyd in a junkyard—"

Across the table, Cole's face finally unfused from his plate long enough for him to shout, "Will there be cake? I'll definitely come if there's cake!"

"Always thinking with your stomach, right Cole?" Jay snarked. But the Earth Master chose to ignore him, much to Jay's disappointment.

As the others continued to conspire Lloyd and Kai's wedding, loudly describing each lavish detail — "Lloyd should wear all red so Kai can wear all green... and there should be dragons!!!" Jay contributed while Zane added, "Kai should put Lloyd in his lap and ride in on one to the ceremony" and Cole piped in, "And there should be triple stacked cake afterwards!" — Kai's ears picked up shuffled movement in the hallway. He sat up straight. Wu and Misako were out getting "vital" supplies like flavored tea and herbal medicines — old people errands — and they weren't expecting anyone else to come calling. It could only be Lloyd.

Getting that sensation he got whenever he was about to be cornered, he felt himself start to panic. "Guys, if you don't shut up now, I swear I'll send every single one of you to the Cursed Realm," Kai hissed out. "I don't even care if we're on the same team — you will all be banished for your crimes. This conversation is over."

But, of course, cause everything and everyone hated Kai, this was the exact conversation Lloyd chose just that moment to walk in on.

With a short glance around to the other ninja, he came into the room and a crushing silence followed as they all tracked him with their eyes. He walked casually, carrying a bowl laden with an excessive amount of Cole's chili (which wasn't that bad but it also wasn't that good either, so Kai felt Lloyd had filled it to the brim subconsciously) and settled down in his usual spot to the right of Kai, slowly lifting his spoon to his lips…. Lips that were twisted up in an unmistakable smirk, the one Kai knew and adored so well, that he loved to bite on — but right now, seeing the way it melted away the usual prim and proper princely beauty of Lloyd's face into the wild rawness of the conceded brat he really was, all Kai could think was Lloyd knows…. He's been listening in on the whole thing!

"What's all this about cake?" Lloyd asked, oh so innocently, as if he didn't know already, and Kai kind of wanted to manhandle him right then and there for being such an unyielding brat.

But before Kai could say or do anything to grab at any sort of control over the conversation, Jay leaned in closer to Lloyd, conspiratorially settling his chin into his cupped hand like he was about to tell the world's greatest secret. With a hauntingly straight face he said, "Only that Kai can't keep his eyes off yours."

… And then everything kind of blew up in Kai's face.

Nya and Zane burst out laughing and Cole let out a bellowing huff before slapping Jay across the back so hard the Blue Ninja's face almost landed in his uneaten bowl of chili (Kai wished with his whole heart that it really had). Jay glared briefly at Cole but then the Master of Earth said, "I guess that's why they call you the Master of Shocks! That was a good one, Jay."

Pure pride swelled the Master of Shocks' chest, making him look just like a puffed up little blue jay — which he technically was… though Kai could barely register the humor of it as sticky hot embarrassment exploded inside of him.

"Oh wow you guys," Nya finally managed to gasp as she held her sides, like she could fall apart from the delicious humiliation of it all. She wiped at her eyes, choking out, "Look at Lloyd's cheeks — they look like cherries!"

Lloyd's mouth was pressed together tightly, and his cheeks were definitely a deep scarlet that Kai took some satisfaction in seeing, but he knew his own cheeks were probably just as red and burning twice as hot.

And of course Jay would point that out. "Guys, check out Kai's face — he's burning up!"

"Oh the irony," Nya giggled.

"Red ninja indeed!" Zane chimed in with a grin that practically spilled off his face. And in that moment, Kai had never been more certain in his life that he was surrounded by traitors. Enemies.

Kai ground his teeth together and finally managed to squeeze out some sort of response. "You're all banished."

The other ninja, minus a cherry-colored Lloyd, started laughing again as Kai sat there, gripping the edge of the table and plotting revenge. Only Cole made any kind of move towards redemption, leaning closer to both Lloyd and Kai to say, "You know we're just teasing you two… We're really happy to see you making things more official. And just so you know, I would love to be there for you, even if there no's cake for me."

"You do know the whole point is so that Kai gets to keep the cake just for himself, don't you?" Jay smirked.

Before Kai could set fire to either himself or Jay, Cole turned to the Blue Ninja and smiled. "Don't worry, sparky, I'll make sure to claim a cake for myself too," he said, and proceeded to reach over so he could grope Jay's ass as the smaller ninja let out a high-pitched squeak.

"Who's the Master of Shock now?" Zane grinned as Jay started choking.

Nya pursed her lips and said, "Really? Right in front of my chili?"

Kai moaned and buried his face in his hands as the entire table descended into chaos. But it died out quickly as Lloyd stood up, his face unreadable, that silken smirk of his erased from his lips. As Kai peeked up at him, he couldn't help but feel… reverent. Lloyd was strong, and fierce, and brave. And more than that… he was the magnet that kept them gravitating to him, to their destiny. Their fates were inexplicably tied to his for the rest of their lives. They all shared a bond deeper than mere friends: they were each other's counterparts and focal points and homes.

And nobody was more at home with Lloyd than Kai.

"Kai," Lloyd began, and Kai felt the air rush out him as soon as Lloyd turned those ember-bright eyes right on his face. "Do… do you really want to marry me?"

Kai's heart was pounding far too fast. It felt like the adrenaline spark right before a battle. "Of course," he managed.

The other ninja were finally fully silent, their eyes wide and watchful. Feeling bold, Kai pushed away from the table and stood right in front of his boyfriend. Then he sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving Lloyd's, and swallowed. "You know that all of us are bound to you, and all of us would protect you with our lives, just as you would do for us. But the bond I share with you runs even deeper. I promised you that I would protect you, and that I would follow where you lead me, that you could always rely on me, so I would like to ask you now… Will you let me follow you forever? Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon, will you marry me?"

In all that time, Lloyd and Kai didn't look away from each other. The others remained blissfully quiet, but there was a current of anticipation coursing through the room.

It felt like an age before Lloyd cleared his throat and said, "Of course I will.... Someone has to keep my cake away from Cole, after all."

Kai groaned but found himself grinning anyways. "You're insufferable," he told Lloyd and pushed up from the floor.

"That only means you're even more perfect a match," Nya pointed out from Kai's side, but she hugged her brother tightly, patting him on the back. They both knew how much this meant to him...

Lloyd and Kai returned to their places at the table and tried to resume eating normally, but they kept glancing over to each other until Jay scoffed and said, "You two, honestly, go get a room."

"Quiet, sparky, you'll get yours soon," Cole winked and Jay started to protest.

"If you think I have any interest at all in a dusty piece of rock like you—"

"Yeah yeah," Cole waved him off. "Keep pretending, bluey."

Lloyd laughed and reached over to offer his hand for Kai to hold. Kai took it gently, and didn't miss the way everyone stared at their joined hands, their fingers twining together.

"No matter what comes in the future, we'll face it together," Lloyd promised Kai, and they felt each other's pulses jump at his words.

Kai nodded, soaking up the way the light hit the pale gold of Lloyd's hair, making it look just like a glowing halo. This boy would be the death of him, he just knew it. He couldn't help the smile spreading across his face. He raised a spoonful of chili towards Zane, Cole, and Jay and gave his best unhinged grin. "The future looks bright for you and me both, but right now I say we take these three down for being so obnoxious," he suggested and Lloyd grinned too, wild and full of fire, just like Kai.

"What?" Zane sputtered. "I didn't do anything!"

"Wait!" Jay cried out. "But we helped you propose to him, Kai!"

Lloyd snorted while Kai rolled his eyes. "Sure you did," the Master of Fire said, then launched the first spoonful at Jay's surprised face.

"Food fight!!!" Nya cried, pounding her fist on the table before she upended her entire plate on Kai's head.

Kai gasped, shaking sticky shrimp out of his hair. Reaching up, he felt the clingy, pasty sauce of the dish matting his once-immaculate spikes, and he shrieked, "GET HER, LLOYD!"

With a roar, the table fell into chaos again. As the ninja threw handfuls of food at each other — except for Cole who sat there lamenting the waste of it all — Lloyd and Kai looked at each other and smiled. Everything that they had ever done, all that they had ever faced and clawed their way through, had been worth it for moments just like this. With a laugh, Kai leaned in and kissed Lloyd in front of everyone, not even caring to keep anything concealed anymore.

He didn't even care when Nya shouted, "Gross!" and splashed the rest of her water on them. With a smirk, he pulled Lloyd closer and set a palm to the boy's back to dry out his clothes.

"You know," Zane said afterwards, as everyone settled down. "Someone has to clean all this up before Master Wu returns."

"Not me!" Jay was the first shout.

"We will," Lloyd said calmly, volunteering an unwilling Kai before he could protest. "We started this after all."

"They had it coming," Kai argued but stopped when Lloyd cast him a sharp look.

"You said you'd follow wherever I lead," Lloyd reminded Kai, then smirked his signature smirk when Kai let out yet another groan.

"Alright then," Kai sighed. "Lead me to the dishes."

"Get used to this," Jay said smugly. "This is going to be married life for you from now on."

Cole stood up from his seat and brought the rest of his plate down, shrimp-first, on Jay's head. "And this is going to be married life with me," he promised the Master of Lightning and walked away smiling.

"Welcome to the family," Nya said to Lloyd before standing up from the table.

"Can't be crazier than my family," Lloyd called after her, then turned to Lloyd. "Well, let's get cleaning."

Kai sighed melodramatically but didn't complain. He had promised to follow Lloyd wherever he lead him, even if it was just to another mess to clean up. So he smiled as he knelt down to pick up pieces of dinner from the floor with Lloyd. He wouldn't have traded it for anything else.

[fuzzyhairedfreak]

Okay Larian here's how you fix your reputation wrt Wyll being SO ignored by y'all's writing: Give us a fancy ball DLC that he is the star of. Let it be all about his life and his backstory, let us meet his childhood friends and enemies, let us defend his honor in a dramatic duel, let us do a fancy dance with him in front of all of Baldurian high society (whether we're romancing him or not) (seriously even the straight guys on reddit were sad they couldn't dance with him in camp without it being a romance thing). It doesn't have to be as high stakes as some other well known fantasy rpg video game's masquerade ball mission, and in fact I'd rather it wasn't. Rather than the Winter Palace, I'm looking for more of a Citadel DLC vibe if you know what I mean. Let there be some drama, a little plot to solve maybe, but mostly good party times with my friends, and getting to learn more about Wyll as a kid and teen, and Wyll telling us all the best gossip from back then. More interpersonal drama than plot. But most importantly, give Wyll romancers our the Sound of Music Maria and Mr. von Trapp showing the kids a folk dance on the patio. Give us our Pride and Prejudice (2005) no one else in the room moment. Our Cinderella and Prince Charming 'So This Is Love' scene. I'm begging