#ethan loses it when he sees him smoke

[winterrhawk]

they should let benji smoke a cigarette in mi8

[greazyfloz]

Ethan Edwards angst with a happy ending?

Angst

Easy Forgiveness

I was laying in bed when I got a text from Ethan telling me to get ready and come to Nolan’s. I text my roommate Emilie and tell her to get ready then quickly got up and fixed my makeup then put on some leather pants and one of those tie back halter tops that shows slight underboob. Emilie walks into my room as I was fixing my hair. 

“You look hot!” She says sitting on my bed.

“You got ready fast” I replied

“Yeah, well I was already semi-ready cause I figured we would be going out tonight”

After I fix my hair we hoped in the uber and headed to Nolan’s. Nolan lives close enough to walk but I didn’t want to wear a jacket. Once we arrived I texted Ethan to tell him we were here then headed inside. 

“Hey Y/n/n!” Luca greets me grabbing me into a hug as I enter the door.

“Hey Luca, how are you?” I smile back

“I’m great, lover boy is in the kitchen” he says before disappearing. I make my way into the kitchen to find Ethan. In the kitchen I find Ethan with Mark, Luke and Dylan so I make my way over. Ethan looks me up and down as I walk over to greet him and the boys. 

“Hey baby!” I say going in for a hug, but he turns to only give me a side hug.

“Hi” he says almost coldly. I get a couple ‘hey’s from the boys. Throughout the conversation we are having we lose people one by one until it is just Ethan and I standing in the group. 

“What are you wearing Y/n…” his says in a disappointed tone looking me up and down. 

“What do you mean?”

“You’re tits are literally falling out” he says bringing his hands up to pull it down under the tiniest bit of underboob that appears

“I’ve worn this before” I say annoyed, rolling my eyes at him

“Well you look like a whore” he says in an angrier louder tone. 

“Wow” I say starting to leave

“Where are you going?” he yells after me angrily

“To change!” I turn and yell at him before calling an uber and texting Emilie that I’m leaving. She meets me outside the house as we wait for the uber with a bunch of people either smoking or just hanging out on the front porch. Ethan walks out and throws his flannel his was wearing at me.

“Just wear this” he says before turning to walk in the party

“No Ethan. I’m going home. Take your stupid flannel back!” he turns back around

“So you are going all the way home to get changed rather than just wearing my flannel? You’re pathetic”

“I’ll wait inside” Emilie says going inside and a few people on the front porch follow her.

“Fuck you. You called me a whore because I’m dressed like half the girls in there. I’ve literally worn worse than this and you haven’t said anything” I say with my arms crossed across my chest.

“I didn’t call you a whore! Why are you being so damn aggravating?”

“You literally started it!” I yell back

“Holy fuck! I am not dealing with this. Honestly maybe you should go home, that way I can have a good time!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“I’m not fighting with you” he says turning towards the door he throws a hand up and says “have a good night” before entering the house. The uber arrives and I walk down the front steps with Emilie shortly behind me. 

When we get home, I go up to my room not even bothering to get change or take my makeup off and throw myself in bed. I was awoken in the middle of the night by my phone ringing. I flip it over to see Mackie’s contact light up the screen, I answer.

“Hello?” I say into the phone

“Uh-hey Y/n. We- um can you just meet us at the hospital? Actually we will pick you up on the way”

“Is everything okay?” I ask worried

“Yeah, it’s Eddy-”

“What happened?!”

“I’m turning in your driveway right now, just come out and see for yourself”

I hang up the phone and throw my hair up quickly putting on some sweat pants and one of Ethan’s hoodies before going out to Mackie’s car. I hop in the backseat to see Ethan with a kitchen cloth wrapped around his knuckles. 

“Oh my god E! What did you do?!” I ask my visibly intoxicated boyfriend

“I fucked up”

“Yeah, I see that! Bu-”

“Not my stupid hand! With Y/n” he says finally looking over at me.

“It’s okay, let me see your hand though!” I say pulling the cloth off to look and he pulls it away.

“It’s not though!” he says “I’m so sorry for being so mean tonight” I smile at my intoxicated boyfriends tone. 

“I promise, it’s okay”

“I’ll make it up to you” he says before we pull into the hospital. 

“Thanks for calling Mackie” I say before opening the door. I get out and Mackie uts his window down.

“We were already here tonight, but he refused to go in there without you” Mackie tells me before we say out goodbyes and I take Ethan into the ER. We don't have to wait very long to see a doctor. He had to get stitches. I held his had the whole time and had to be the one actually listening to how to care for them. 

“So they will dissolve so no need to come back to take them out” the doctor tells me

“Can he still play hockey?” I ask and the doctor nods

“Yes but he has to be very careful, I suggest maybe taking 4-5 days off” I nod thinking how Ethan is not going to like hearing this in the morning.

I listen to the rest of what the doctor has to say before calling Mackie to come back to take us home. We wait outside on the bench for Mackie to arrive when I ask: “Are you going to tell me what happened now?”

“I punched a mirror”

“Ethan! Why would you do that?”

“Because I thought I lost you”

“You hurt my feelings but I did take into account that you were also drunk and stressed about hockey because playoffs are coming up or whatever”

“That’s no excuse” “I know, but I know you didn’t mean anyth-”

“How?” he interrupts 

“Look where we are E. I don’t think you would of punched the mirror if you meant it” I laugh “Yeah true, I’m so so so so so so sorry” he says looking at me. 

“I promise babe, it is fine” I kiss him softly then look at him again, “Next time though”

“No next time!” Is all Ethan says making me chuckle

[wonderlandleighleigh]

She turns to Dinah when Susie is distracted in her office one day and bites her lip, opening her mouth to make a request, but doesn’t get a chance. The other woman hands her a little slip of paper with a phone number and address on it.

Midge frowns, perplexed. “What is-“

“You got hypothermia because you went to see his show,” Dinah shrugs, grinning at her understandingly. “I figured you’d want his contact information.”

Midge smiles gratefully and slips it into her purse.

*****

She thought she’d be too busy to think about him, but when it’s quiet and everyone else is asleep, she wonders how he is. If he’s enjoying the warm weather. How things are going with his daughter. If he’s happy.

She wants him to be happy.

Midge just wishes…

Sometimes Midge wishes for a lot of things.

But she keeps moving forward. She starts landing more jokes on the show. Ethan is still having sleep issues, but she knows if she’s patient and attentive things will get better. Esther is getting more grown every day and she worries she’s not doing enough for her little girl, but she does try.

She dozes off in front of the television one night, and when she blinks awake, it’s to find the sun coming up and the morning news on.

Except Walter Cronkite only does the evening news, but here he is anyway with some sort of special report.

Midge narrows her eyes at all comes into focus.

“…Found dead at his California home of an apparent heroin overdose…”

Her stomach lurches hard as she shakily gets to her feet.

“…Survived by his mother a one daughter-“

“No,” Midge mutters as the screen flips to –

She had no idea they’d be willing to show real dead bodies on TV, but there he is. She knows exactly who it is, having seen him bared before her, warm and beautiful, very recently.

She means to crumble back onto the couch but misses and hits the floor instead, and suddenly she’s yelping awake, sitting up quickly.

It’s still dark out.

The television is still on its test screen.

Midge fell off the couch.

She scrambles to her feet, rushing for her purse and Dinah’s little slip of paper, and soon she finds herself back on the living room floor, behind the couch with the phone in her lap, shakily dialing his number.

“One AM here,” she mutters, looking at the clock above her. “Eleven there…so he’s either out or-“

His voice is confused when it picks up. “Hello?”

“You need to come back,” she blurts out.

“Midge?”

“You need to come back, you can’t stay in LA,” she babbles. “It’s- bad for you. All that sun is bad for you.”

“Wait-“

“You can move your daughter here,” she keeps going quickly. “There are tons of great apartments and schools, and we can plan playdates and-“

“We don’t do that,” he reminds her gently.

There’s a warmth in his voice that brings tears to her eyes.

“We could,” she tells him. “We should. We should do that. Ethan is weird, and he could use another friend, and Esther could use a little girl who’s a little older and probably the coolest kid on the planet who listens to free jazz and smokes candy cigarettes.”

“Kit’s pretty hip,” Lenny admits, getting sidetracked. “Midge-“

“See! Her name is Kit! That’s a cool name! She doesn’t belong in California, she’s an East Coast kid.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what has you so terrified that you called me up in the middle of the night to demand that I relocate again?”

She freezes, unable to tell him. Partially because she’s starting to realize just how insane she sounds and partially because it’s cruel to tell him.

“Midge.” His voice is so gentle.

“I had a really terrible dream,” she says, trying to steady her voice. “And I just-I want you to be happy, but I miss you like crazy even though I’ve been trying to ignore it, and I thought I was doing a good job but then I had this awful nightmare tonight and I just-“ She loses steam finally, blowing out a breath. “Sound like a lunatic.”

 “A little,” Lenny admits. “Though I admit it’s kind of a turn-on.”

“Lenny.”

“If I said I was sorry for that joke, I’d be lying,” he tells her. “Midge, I…”

She waits.

She waits for him to shut all of this down. To assure her that all is well. That he’s fine. That he has to stay in LA. That they don’t do these kinds of things. She feels herself tense up, taking a breath and closing her eyes.

“I miss you, you know.” It comes out quiet. “There’s a lot going on with the legal troubles…with a lot of things. I wish…I wish I could be…”

“You could.”.

“You have too much faith in me.”

“Just enough.”

“How did you get this number anyways?”

“I’m a very good stalker,” she says.

Lenny sighs softly. “I’m back in New York in two weeks. Let’s get a drink. We’ll talk.”

“You promise?” she asks quietly.

He means it when he says “I promise.”

“Okay,” she says after a moment. “Did you have a gig tonight?”

“Yes, and I even managed to stay out of jail,” he says. “It went pretty well, all things considered.”

“I’m actually kind of surprised you’re home.”

“I had to relieve the babysitter,” Lenny explains. “I’ve known prostitutes with cheaper rates. There’s something in that. Something about childcare being a worse gig than sex work.”  

“With sex work you leave sticky for the right reasons,” she giggles, and it makes him laugh, too.

“Please tell me you’re using that,” he says, and she can hear him smiling through the phone.

“Bet your cute little ass I’m using that,” Midge tells him. She sighs. “I’m sorry, Lenny. I shouldn’t have- I just-“

“It’s nice to be missed,” he admits. “And if I’m being truthful, I really do hate it here.” His voice goes quiet again. “I miss the snow.”

They both sit with that for a moment, letting to quiet wash over them. Three thousand miles away, and one sentence makes her feel more connected to him than ever, even though she knows she should be giving him shit for letting her nearly freeze to death after yelling at her.

“Two weeks?” she asks finally.

“Two weeks,” he promises.

 ***** 

It turns out that while they both intend to keep that promise of meeting in two weeks, it’s harder than he thought it would be to catch her. Between her day job at the show, and her night gigs and her kids, and his lawyer meetings and his gigs it winds up being almost impossible. 

When he steps into the Button Club (previously warned hat it’s her ex’s club, and the man has no idea that Lenny and Midge…well…were ever Lenny and Midge), he lets his eyes rake across the crowd of people.

And realizes he’s just in time for Midge’s set. 

He manages to slip into a small table in the back and orders himself a scotch and water from one of the waitresses before sitting back and watching Midge do her thing.

God, she’s so fucking good.

She runs with the sex work childcare joke, too. 

“You know why it’s more expensive?” she asks. “Because in childcare you leave sticky for all the wrong reasons. There’s jam. There’s gum. There’s play-doh. What’s a little sweat and jizz compared to that?” 

Lenny laughs hard, giving a clap that catches no one's attention except the owner.

Ah, shit. 

"Mr. Bruce. It's an honor to have you at my club," Joel Maisel tells him. 

Lenny glances at him and then nods to Midge."I'm here for her."

"Midge is good," Joel agrees. "Is there anything I can get you?" 

Lenny could just let it go. 

He could. 

He won't. 

"Yeah, a martini, up with olives for when she wraps up."

Jo stands there frozen. "You uh…you know her drink."

"Three years of camaraderie and closeness I fucking should by now," Lenny comments, before turning back to watch her set.

To Midge’s credit, she hasn't let seeing her ex and whatever Lenny is to her throw her off her game, and he's relieved when Joel walks off. 

Lenny grins at her mischievously.

*****

She heads for his table, sits and takes a sip of her martini. "Did you torture my ex?"

Lenny considers. "Maybe the tiniest by knowing you cocktail preference."

"Lenny."

He grins and leans in. "Hi Midge. Great set."

"And I didn't even have to go on a date with you this time to get the compliment," she teases. She sighs. "Thank you for meeting me. I know the setting isn't ideal."

"I did promise. And scheduling was tight, but we made it work," he says. He gazes at her for a moment and impulsively reaches for her hand. "Anymore bad dreams?"

She lets her guard down a little, letting the warmth of his long fingers envelope hers as she nods. "Same thing, over and over."

"Ready to tell me what it is?" He asks. 

"No," Midge admits honestly. "But we worked so hard to meet in person so I kind of have to." 

And she does. About waking up in front of the television to a news broadcast about his death. The graphic photo she keeps dreaming about. How she wakes up before she really knows what's happening other than "Lenny died alone."

His thumb is circling her palm by the time she finishes. Her eyes are glassy. She hates that a silly dream makes her cry but she can't help it. 

Lenny takes a deep breath. "I don't have the best proclivities, as you're aware," he admits. "But I'm going to do my damndest to keep that from becoming reality."

She opens her mouth to offer help but stops when he holds his free hand up.

"I know you want to help, Midge, and I love you for it but-"

He stops as they both adjust to the weight of those words. 

"You-"

"I-"

"Refills?" Joel's voice asks from over them, and Lenny moves to let go of her hand, but she tightens her grip. 

"Wait," she blurts out, staring into Lenny's wide, shocked eyes. "You love me?"

"He what?!" Joel snaps. 

Lenny swallows. "Midge, here? Now?"

"You tell me, you said it," she snaps.

"I don't expect you to feel the same," he tells her quietly. "I just-"

"Of course she doesn't," Joel blurts out nervously. 

She can barely hear Joel's panicked voice as she gazes at the man in front of her. She lets go of his hand to stroke his jaw. "Lenny, don't be stupid. You know I do." 

"You do?" He asks, a little baffled. 

"You do?" Joel asks in shock. 

 Midge can’t help grinning warmly at Lenny. “A little hard not to at this point, don’t you think?” 

“You scraped me off of a sidewalk, watched me have an utter meltdown, and then do the pee-pee dance in front of your building,” he points out dryly. 

“The pee-pee dance?” Joel ponders, confused.

“So attractive,” Midge jokes. 

“You nearly lost a toe because I yelled at you instead of sleeping with you the night of my Carniegie gig,” he adds. 

“I would not have slept with you after you yelled at me,” she argues.

“I’m sorry?” Joel asks, really panicked now.

“You also watched my entire suitcase fall open and dump its contents onto the carpet at JFK and then watched as I stood there and didn’t clean it up,” Lenny goes on.

“Endearing,” Midge shrugs.

“I am standing right here!” Joel snaps loudly, finally getting their attention. 

“Right!” Lenny cries, turning to him, looking more than a little annoyed. “Drinks! She’s have another martini up with olives, and I will have a double scotch and soda.” 

“That’s not-” 

Midge takes a deep breath and looks up at her ex-husband. “Joel. We’re trying to have a conversation. Can you please-” 

“No!” he cries. “No, I won’t please! I want to talk to you in private. Now.” 

“No,” Midge says simply.

Joel stares at her. 

“I’m in the middle of a conversation,” she reminds him. “It’s an important one. And it has nothing to do with you. So you can either go get our drinks, or we can leave.” 

He stands there, weighing those options, and Lenny glances down at his watch.

“You get fifteen more seconds to decide,” he announces without looking up. 

Joel gives a groan before storming away, leaving them to their conversation as the other patrons of the club turn back to their drinks and conversations.  

Midge closes her eyes and takes a slow breath, letting it out.

“So that’s the ex?” Lenny asks, hiding a grin behind his hand. 

“That’s him,” she confirms. “I don’t know how much you would love me if you had to deal with him all the time.” 

His voice comes out soft again. “It would be worth it.” 

She finds herself re-taking his hand, playing with his fingers. “What do we do?” 

“Well,” Lenny drawls out.  “I hate LA. It turns out the lawyers here are, actually, better, you keep having nightmares about my untimely death and it turns out we’re in love with each other. And while I very much should not drag you into all of my horrible garbage…” 

She watches him carefully, knowing that there’s hope written all over her face where there shouldn’t be. That this could all blow up spectacularly, she can’t can’t help herself. 

He leans in, his eyes avoiding hers in favor of looking at their hands. “I want this with you.” 

His words have her tugging him in closer, letting go of his hand again to cup his jaw, pulling him into a tender kiss. 

**** 

Susie Myerson tries really fucking hard not to get involved in her clients’ personal lives. 

Because they’re actual friends, Midge makes it fucking hard to stay out of it, though. 

So does her shitty ex-husband. 

“I don’t need to be here,” she snaps as she steps into the Button Club. “The whole point of her gigging at this place is to try out new material, and give me a couple of nights where no one needs me to hold her fucking hand!” 

Joel looks livid and pale, and he points aggressively toward the main room of the club.

“What?” Susie snaps. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

He points harder. 

Susie rolls her eyes and wanders over to the entryway, letting her eyes scan the crowd, and eventually she lands on-

“Oh,” she says simply, watching as Midge pulls away from Lenny Bruce her hands still cupping his face in the most tender gesture Susie has ever seen in her entire fucking life. 

She’s had the misfortune of seeing Midge with a number of men. That Benjamin guy. Nice, but stiff. Joel. An asshole. 

She’s never seen her alone with Lenny, though, and it’s-

Fuck. It’s love. 

“You gotta stop it,” Joel demands. 

Susie snorts out a deep, dark laugh. “For so many reasons, go fuck yourself.” 

“Susie-” 

“First and foremost, Midge’s lovelife is none of my business,” Susie stops him. “Is this ideal? No. Do I think it will probably blow up in her fucking face? Yeah.” 

“So stop it!” 

“Second of all: That’s not just some fling,” Susie goes on. “That’s not just grabbing a quickie in an alleyway after a gig.” 

“Thanks for that mental image,” Joel complains, squeezing his eyes shut, looking pained.

“Look at his face,” Susie goes on. “Look at hers. That’s real. And I may be a heartless asshole sometimes, but even I know not to stand in the way of that shit.” 

“Susie,” Joel says warningly. 

“And third of all,” Susie says as she grins slowly. “It’s gonna be way too much fun to watch you lose your wind over this. It already is.” 

Joel glowers at her harshly, and, without a word, storms back behind the bar, slamming the office door behind him. 

Susie rolls her eyes and slips back to the bar to get a drink.

***** 

“The kissing is nice but it doesn’t solve our problems,” Lenny points out gently as he allows himself the indulgence of brushing his fingers through the ends of her hair. 

“What’s the lease like?” Midge asks. 

“Month-to-month,” he admits sheepishly.

She laughs. “Lenny.” 

“I may be a man with a lease, but I never said I was any good at it,” he admits. 

Midge takes a breath, and he knows she’s talking about how long he should stay at the house in LA, and what they can do to plan his move back to the east coast and she’s dropping the name of some lawyer her father knows, but he’s missed her so much all he can do is gaze at her face; commit her eyes to memory; let himself be soothed by that lilting intensity in her voice. 

“Are you paying attention to anything I’m saying?” she asks finally. 

“I’ve changed my mind,” he tells her. “I think the kissing would solve our problems.” 

She laughs, and it’s the best sound ever. 

Sadly, they’re interrupted again by the scrape of a chair coming up to the table, and Susie taking a seat with her drink, which she sets down with a loud thunk. “Okay.” 

Midge looks deeply confused. “Wasn’t tonight a Midge-less night for you?” she asks. “You didn’t even want to hear my name tonight.” 

“Joel called, said there was an emergency, and then alerted me to…whatever the fuck this is,” she explains, gesturing towards the two of them.

Lenny sighs and pulls away from Midge, sitting back against the wall. 

“Tell me what’s going on,” Susie says. 

Midge hesitates, and glances at Lenny, before both of them wind up launching into a years-long tale of irresponsible flirting, ridiculous weather-related shenanigans, and their current predicament. 

“Right,” Susie nods after they’re done. “So you’re in love.” 

Again, Midge hesitates. 

“It’s a new development,” Lenny admits, even though it really fucking isn’t. 

“Sure,” Susie waves a hand. “Look, I could care less, but the press is gonna eat this up hard, so we’ve gotta strategize your story here, and while I typically don’t condone telling the truth, I think it’s our best bet. It makes both of you look like sweet, adorable disgusting lovebird angels.” 

Lenny opens his mouth to protest, but the short woman lifts up a hand. 

"You wanna keep fucking my client, you're gonna do what I say."

He shuts his mouth. 

"Good," Susie nods. "I'm leaving. Don't fucking get arrested."

*****

Joel steps out of his office as Susie heads for the exit. "So? You get rid of him? Put a stop to it?"

Susie grins then. A strange, satisfied grin. "He'll see you at the next family dinner."

With that, she leaves, and Joel feels bile gather at the back of his throat. 

***** 

They sit and talk for another hour, and in the back of Midge’s head, she knows that they should have left after Susie did; that sitting here for another hour is likely driving Joel up a wall, and leaving will be much harder the longer they stay.

But Midge is selfish sometimes, and she just doesn’t want to break whatever spell Lenny is under that has him talking about real things, as his real self. 

Because what if he chickens out? 

What if she chickens? 

What if it all just crumbles? 

What if her terrible dream becomes real anyways?

Lenny leans in then, narrowing his eyes at her. “I can see the wheels turning, you know.” 

She grins sheepishly and shakes her head. “It’s fine. Everything is fine. Really.” 

His eyebrow lifts skeptically. “Having second thoughts?” he asks.

“No. I’m afraid you might be.” 

“Oh, I’m terrified,” he admits. “But I want this much too much to run now.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” Midge asks softly. 

Lenny sighs softly, thinking it through. “Then…we’re gonna break up, and we’ll probably hate each other for a while, and you’ll talk shit about my dick on stage, and I’ll sleep with a woman who’s far, far too young to make myself feel better, and then maybe one day when we’re old, we’ll look back on it at some sort of comedy special where they wheel out the geriatric set and we’ll laugh about it.” 

“Even if we don’t break up, can I talk shit about your dick on stage?” she asks hopefully.

He chuckles and sips his drink. “You have blanket permission to tell audiences whatever you would like about my shvantz in your act.” 

She beams. “You really do love me.” 

"You wanna head out? See if we can sneak past guard at the door?" Lenny offers. 

Midge finishes her drink and gets to her feet. "I'm going to have to face him sooner or later." 

Lenny nods, getting to his own feet and helping her into her coat before they wander towards the exit.

Midge makes eye contact with Joel as he downs his umpteenth drink behind the bar, and shifts from Lenny to at least say goodnight. 

"His place or yours?" Joel asks bitterly. 

"Probably coffee in the village," Midge tells him truthfully. "Go home, Joel. Sleep it off."

"You coulda told me," he snaps. "Shoulda told me." 

"I didn't want to," Midge tells him honestly. 

"Why?"

She pauses, gazing at him for a long moment. "Because there are so few things in my life I don't have to share. That are just mine. This was just for me. Goodnight, Joel." 

She wanders back over to Lenny, taking his hand and heading for the door.

[gayraltofrivia]

RESIDENT EVIL: BECOME HUMAN

(a resident evil x detroit: become human alternate universe)

VERSE ONE: ETHAN WINTERS. android. deviant.

ethan is no longer a human. he just doesn’t know it. he doesn’t know that years ago, mia took the better parts of her deceased ex-husband and crafted her own, perfect, android, devoid of the rules and codes normal androids were forced to abide by. ethan was a deviant from the beginning.

after the trauma of the baker house, it was easy to put everything down to stress-induced hallucinations. if he glimpsed white plastic under malleable skin, if his hands seemed to spark and crackle when they got cut or crushed, he had simply been imagining it all.

once he and mia had escaped the baker farm, he was not allowed to look into any mirror. at least, not until after the kind medics had ordered him to sleep. when he awoke, he could swear he had lost days of time. but that white plastic, that electric crackling, was gone, and when he looked in the mirror again, he was himself.

rose was created using the frozen sperm from the man who had been the real ethan. the android ethan, believing he was the real ethan, never questioned his fatherhood for a second–so much so that mia began to feel, distantly, that she might have done something wrong, tricking the android into believing he was a real person.

she never got the chance to explain.

in the village, it grew harder to explain away his hallucinations. the frightened villagers he met wasted no time in trying to tell ethan what he really was, and their whispered, “android” mutterings played over and over again in his mind. when he lost his fingers–when he lost his hand, and blue blood sprayed out instead of red, he began to believe it. the first-aid medicine didn’t heal so much as corrode, melting metal and plastic down until he could lose no more blood. blue blood.

ethan began to realize that he had been living a lie.

by the time chris redfield found him, ethan was bent and broken, a fading android in a tattered green jacket. “i’m human, right?” he said to chris. chris, who was an android long since deviated himself. the led on his head, glowing a permanent red, luckily gave no sign chris was lying as he answered, “course you are, ethan.”

he was losing too much thirium, by the end. clutching rose in one arm, the other corroded and smoking, he held on to chris and limped towards a salvation he would never see. ethan knew what he was, and he knew that he was dying.

if ethan had known what he was from the start, perhaps he wouldn’t have acted so human. perhaps that would have saved his life. but here, at the end, he passed rose over to chris and searched his mind–his memory banks–for any way to avoid losing himself. any way to avoid fading into oblivion.

in the end, once chris had left, he found it: a server, probably mia’s, where he could empty his memory, pour out everything he had ever been, for safekeeping later. maybe she would delete the whole thing; maybe she would keep him there, keep his memories and fear and shame and guilt forever, occasionally spinning them up to relive what once was. but he was tired–he was traumatized.

he managed to shut off the sensors that would simulate pain, at least, before the explosion ripped through him.

months later, after mia had privately begun to split custody of rose with chris, he managed to hack her home computer.

he found ethan there.

mia, for all her shortcomings, was at least good enough to atone for her sins. she synthesized another android, made him look exactly like he looked before. forced ethan’s memories into his body again, and let chris hold him as he became conscious, screaming and shaking with terror and fear. this time, chris told him the truth. he was an android, but he was safe now.

likes and rbs appreciated. verse two in progress.

[ineedibuprofen]

Percy Jackson + 137?

Percy doesn't even see it coming.

His instincts and reflexes are something he's always been able to rely on and that was only confirmed as the River Styx's curse protected him. Achilles' mark was unpredictable and dangerous there was no doubt, but Percy found it a whole lot easier to focus on the fight when he wasn't worrying about being killed. For the most part.

He finds himself on the other side of Manhattan, crossed paths with a demigod on the opposite side of the war – a child of Hermes, ironically enough, and Percy would be lying if his familiar sandy blonde hair didn't cause equal parts hesitance and resentment to stir up inside him. He doesn't know his name, doesn't recognize him from if he went to camp before, but that wasn't all that surprising. Most of the demigods on the other side Percy didn't recognize.

He's a good sword fighter. Percy knows he's good himself, taught by Luke, the best swordsmen in hundreds of years – he swallows down the hesitance and resentment that rises once again at the reminder – but this kid's been able to hold his own for a good while now. Kid, not just because it was Percy's default nickname to call other people, but also because he really was a kid. He looked maybe fifteen, if he was stretching it, but probably younger. Definitely younger than Percy.

It's a bitter reminder of where they are. In the center of Manhattan, Percy stresses about disarming this kid so he can run and get back to the main fight. Everything is stock still frozen, a time capsule city, and it still feels unreal. It was easy to get lost in the illusion that none of this was actually happening.

"Give it up," the kid grits out as Percy loses his footing.

He slips back a bit and the son of Hermes brings his sword back up. Percy does the same and they meet with a clang that echoes in the silent landscape. There's no one and nothing around, aside from a smashed car that's on fire. It's a few feet away, not close enough to be of help if Percy loses Riptide, but not far enough to be a completely useless asset. Percy uses his other hand as leverage as he places at the other end of his blade and pushes. His foot catches on a rock and it helps him gain traction.

"No," he says, and the kid falls back.

He lands on his backside, taking breath after breath. There's soot and smoke surrounding them and it tastes like fire, like Mt. St. Helens, like scars in his skin that reappeared after Calypso's magic wore off, like he was fourteen then and didn't know how to control his powers and now he's sixteen and destined to die and about to kill a kid a year younger than him. His eyes are brown and round and he's staring at him with the look of a wild animal.

Percy lifts Riptide and points at his throat, feeling the way it trembles in his hands. The blade meets the kid's skin and he closes his eyes, preparing for what he believes is the inevitable. He almost looks like Nico di Angelo. Like Ethan Nakamura. Like Luke Castellan. Like any other camper who was scared shitless and rightfully angry at the Gods. Like Percy.

He swallows down the regret of this whole situation. He swallows down the nausea in his gut. He swallows down his dwindling will to live and the none of this would've happened if you'd never been born. Take a look at the damage around you, Luke has taunted in his dream, how much of it would still be here if you didn't exist? How much of it would go away if you just died?

Percy's eyes unexpectedly sting. He tries to become apathetic, but – this isn't the first demigod he's killed, even if he tries to avoid it like nothing else. It was inevitable, or so he told himself. That was his excuse. But it felt weak now, in the middle of a war with no end in sight.

No end in sight, except for this demigod who was about to die. By Percy's hands.

One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths.

He can't do it.

His eyes squeeze shut and he pulls Riptide back towards himself. He caps it. He puts it back in his pocket. The kid's eyes open. There's a strange look on his face, a combination of terror and confusion and relief. 

"Go." Percy says, voice tense. He takes a step back in a weak white flag and looks to the side, "I didn't see you. Just go."

He stares at him for another second in presumably shock before he splutters and nods. He mutters as he scrambles up, a series of okays and oh Gods and other relieved words Percy doesn't catch. When he's found his balance, he frowns at Percy.

"Why would you –,"

He doesn't get to finish the sentence.

Percy doesn't even see it coming.

There's a loud noise, a noise of a deep, familiar noise. It's exponentially loud, so, so loud, and Percy's ears are ringing before he hits the concrete. He's weightless  as his body flies. After half a second and forty years, he slams his head against the pavement as he hits the road a few feet from where he's been standing. His ears are ringing and he doesn't know the logistics of the Achilles' heel, but his head is pounding like a motherfucker and when he touches his ear, his fingers come back bleeding.

What the fuck. What the fuck just happened? What – an explosion. The familiar noise. Charles Beckendorf's final salute. The Princess Andromeda. The Titan War. It was all the same, it was – where was he? There was an explosion. What caused it? Bomb. Bomb? No, that – where did bombs come from? What was happening – definitely bomb. But no. Fire. Car. The car. Oh, shit. No, no, no. The car had been on fire.

Damnit.

He lets out a groan and curls in on himself. He's not in pain, physically, but he's off put and his ears aren't recovered yet and –

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The kid.

There was a kid, wasn't there? A son of Hermes. Luke? No. Was it – or maybe Ethan? No, no. God – focus. Son of Hermes. Details unknown. He has to find him.

Percy, ignoring his brain's protests, manages to roll over and get to his feet. His ears are still ringing, but it's low and quieter, and he can hear the crackling of a fire nearby. He stumbles as he takes a step forward, mind not quite registering the damage.

The car is no longer there, replaced by bits of metal and rubber and other bad smelling shit that burns in the air. There's little fires scattered around them, and then a bigger one where the car originally was. The air is hot and the atmosphere is like he's in a bubble with no air. It hurts to breathe and he must've inhaled some smoke or something because everytime he breathes too much, he coughs. It's hard and forceful, rattles his lungs, and he hasn't coughed like this since he was ten and Gabe was chain-smoking in the living room while he had bronchitis. 

He can hear shouting in the distance, war cries and battle calls, and as the ringing finally fades, Percy remembers he's in the middle of a war. There are people to help and monsters to fight and when did he get sperated from Annabeth? He doesn't know. He doesn't know and it doesn't matter and he needs to focus because there's a kid that needs him.

He scans the rest of the horizon, ignores the way his mind tells him he's abandoning his post. He's abandoning his post for someone on the enemy's side and what kind of leader was he, standing in the middle of wreckage looking for someone most likely saveless to save.

He sees him, across the street from the crime scene. He's on his side, his back facing Percy, his clothes smouldering. He's not moving, except for a very faint rise and fall of his chest. This time, Percy doesn't hesitate.

He runs to the other side of him, crashes into the ground so hard he can feel the skin on his knees break. He turns him over carefully, so his face is towards the sky. His skin is covered in soot and there's burn holes in his shirt and he's bleeding in more than one place.

"Hey, hey," Percy murmurs, "get up, kid. Are you okay – you're okay. You're okay. C'mon, kid."

He doesn't say anything. Percy, feeling his panic rise and take over his instincts, rips open the guy's shirt. He assesses the injuries and takes stock of the supplies he doesn't have. He has a gash on his forehead that's bleeding, red crimson running down the side of his face. His ankle is twisted the wrong direction. Minor cuts and burns cover the bigger half of his body.

Percy has nothing. No ambrosia, no nectar, no first aid. He searches the kid's pockets, desperate for a solution, but the only thing he finds is half a square of crushed ambrosia. He shoved it in the kid's mouth, who remains unresponsive. He moves his jaw and hits him in the throat so he chews and swallow it, and then he's left to his own devices.

The only helpful thing he has is own t-shirt and a piece of sturdy wood and arm's length away. He grabs it, rips the end of his shirt off and then rips it in half and creates a makeshift splint for the ankle. He takes the other half piece and wraps his head best he can, but it doesn't even go in a full circle and he doesn't have any tape to hold it in place.

Kronos has risen and he's forever away from any kind of medical equipment and this kid still hasn't fucking moved. His chest isn't moving. Percy flicks around for his wrist, holds his breathe as he checks for a pulse.

Nothing.

No. No, no. He just had him, Percy just had him. He just – he was alive. What the hell happened? The explosion wasn't that bad, he's not bleeding that bad anywhere.

Percy reels back on his heels and let's himself sit on the floor. He stares at the body of a son of Hermes he never knew the name of. He wonders if anyone knew his name.

People die. People have died. People are dying. People will die. Percy's been at the other end of the sword more than once. That doesn't change the guilt that grows into a parasite and eats his insides. That doesn't change the tears still burning in his eyes. It doesn't change the prophecy, the hero's sould cursed blade shall reap. It doesn't change Annabeth taking a knife for him.

It feels like a cruel, cosmic joke. Like his whole life, everything he's suffered through and sacrificed, all the shit others have suffered through and sacrificed, has been leading up to the fact that he and his friends and the only safe place for people like them was going to be destroyed.

There's nothing left, at the end of the world, except for Kronos and his goons.

If there was any justice in the world, Percy thinks – he leans over and closes the kid's eyes, crosses his arms over his chest, and makes sure he'll tell others to make him a shroud – Gods hope that they've put their trust in the right people.

If there's any justice in the world, this war will not end in chaos. This war will not cater to those who started it for their own benefit.

[ethereousdelirious]

Sicktember 2023 Day 3

Prompt: "What happened to your phenomenal immune system?"

Fandom: Pokémon

Characters: Eusine, Silver, Morty

Wordcount: 2,011

Notes: Masters EX-verse

Eusine was fucking crazy.

Obviously, Silver knew better than to say it in so many words, but why wouldn't anyone acknowledge it? Nobody would agree with him when he brought it up.

Least of all Eusine himself, who would just chuckle and say something about his dream or his heart or whatever.

He smiled even now, when he sagged more than stood in the middle of the Pokémon Center, catching coughs in his gaudy cape. He sounded like a chain-smoking Houndour and looked like he might fall over at any second, yet here he was. Standing. Waiting.

He beamed at Silver when he surfaced from his coughing fit. "Kris couldn't make it today?" he asked. His voice was rough, but not as rough as Silver had been expecting. He actually looked sort of okay.

"She's doing something with Ethan and" —oh, what was his name?— "Lucas today."

"Mm." Eusine nodded, rocking forward onto his toes. "And Morty has a prior engagement with—" He jerked his head to the side and stifled a few more coughs into his stupid cape. "Excuse me. Morty has a prior engagement with Fantina."

"Are you okay?" Silver asked abruptly. Eusine's coughs were strong enough to bend him double, but every time he finished, he just sprang right back into shape again. It was kind of creepy.

"What do you mean?"

"You sound sick."

Eusine waved a hand. "No, no. I" —he rocked up on his toes again— "have a phenomenal immune system. And furthermore, I really don't have time to be sick."

Silver could only shrug at this. It wasn't like he cared. "Sure. So let's get a move on then."

"You read my mind." Eusine turned on his heels and strode for the doors, beckoning for Silver to follow him with an absurd, sweeping motion that made his cape flutter. As he passed through the doors, a booming sneeze bent him double and he even staggered a little.

Silver could only shake his head.

Eusine was definitely crazy.

Still, he carried on with only a sniffle and a blithe "excuse me."

They skirted around the edge of Centra until they reached the woods. There was no trail here, no Trainers, so the only sound to complement Eusine's coughing and sneezing was the rustling of the breeze in the trees.

"Where are we going?" Silver asked when he couldn't handle the sound of Eusine's sniffling any more.

Eusine sneezed before answering, because of course he did. "There's a mountain spring this way," he said, gesturing vaguely. "It splits off into a few different streams. I'm cataloging them to see where Suicune has b…" He cut himself off with another extraordinary, booming sneeze.

He was definitely sick.

But whatever, it wasn't like Silver was gonna call him on it. If Eusine wanted to stomp around the woods with a nasty cold in his head, so be it. Silver wasn't his nanny.

Miles and miles passed. Silver's legs and feet ached and Sneasel kept climbing him to perch on his shoulders. They were both getting soft. This was the longest they had walked in a long time and Eusine was barely breathing hard despite the breathy coughs punctuating his every exhale.

They'd long since stopped talking to each other. Not that Silver was all that keen to get to know Eusine. His battling experience seemed negligible, and there really wasn't much to gain from listening to him yammer about Suicune. Sure, he had some interesting stories, but what did Silver really stand to gain from listening to him talk about Alolan flower fields and Hoennese deserts?

Nothing that wasn't better learned seeing it for himself, that was for sure.

Eusine's breathing got loud all at once and he stopped, bracing himself against a tree trunk. Bark crumbled beneath his fingers and clung to his stupid white gloves. "Sorry," he said breathily. "Just… just a minute."

He hung his head, his other hand working feebly at the bow around his neck. Silver couldn't see his face, but he seemed to be dizzy or losing his balance; he kept swaying and catching himself on the tree trunk, his chin dipping toward his chest. And he couldn't seem to catch his breath. If anything, his breathing got more labored the longer they stood there.

"Hey, uh, are you okay?" Silver asked, shooting Sneasel a look.

Sneasel blinked at him, but Eusine didn't answer.

"Hey." Silver snapped his fingers. "Eusine."

His breath rushed in and out like ocean waves. "Need… I just…" And he pitched forward, faceplanting on the trail.

"Oh, shit. Shit." Silver knelt beside him.

Lance would have had a fit if he'd heard, but Lance wasn't here. No one was here. Silver was alone.

He looked down at Eusine's prone form. Should he… touch him? Slap his cheek, roll him over? Chest compressions? Something?

Olay, maybe not chest compressions. The idiot was still breathing, at least.

"Mm…" Eusine shifted, pressing his cheek into dirt and pine needles.

Well, thank the Rainbow for that.

"You passed out," Silver said as Eusine shifted some more.

He opened his eyes halfway, revealing one brilliant blue iris. "Huh?" A sneeze ripped through him. He curled at the middle, driving his legs toward his chest.

Silver sat back on his heels. "And what happened to your 'phenomenal immune system,' huh?"

"I… Mm…" Eusine squeezed his eyes shut. "I may have gotten a little overzealous."

A full sentence. That was probably good.

Eusine rolled over and lifted his head a little, but made no attempt to get up.

Silver bit his lip.

They had probably walked a good six miles already, and six miles too many considering the condition Eusine was in. Silver could send him back down the mountain on Ho-oh's back, but that was assuming he had the strength to hold on. What would happen if he passed out again? Ho-oh could fly just above the treeline, but it was still a long way down.

"Ugh." Eusine sat up with an expulsion of air from his lungs, then a coughing fit. He rested his head on his knees and turned to look at Silver. His color seemed a little better, not that Silver had really gotten a great look at him before. "Guess we'd better head back down, huh?"

"Did you hit your head?" Silver demanded. "You're going to walk?"

Eusine shrugged. "We have to get back somehow. What would you do?"

'Send a Pokémon to get help,' Silver nearly shot back, just for the sake of being contrary. He caught himself. Eusine had him here. He would walk. He would crawl if he had to. Anything if it meant getting out of this under his own power. "You're crazy."

"I'm driven," Eusine corrected, and shot to his feet. Immediately, he went pale again and had to lean against a tree for balance.

Silver nearly reached out for him but managed to redirect the movement, run a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Call it what you want."

The sky had long since gone gray above them when they finally emerged from the treeline into Centra proper. Orange fire burned at the edges of it painting the walls around them fierce shades. They stepped out of an alleyway onto the main drag and Eusine stumbled, the tips of his shoes catching on the cobblestones.

Silver moved without thinking about it and Eusine's hand caught his shoulder and nearly knocked him over, but he bent at the knees and stayed up.

"Oh." Eusine tried to pull back, but Silver shifted with his movements. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Silver muttered, looking at the positioning of their feet on the cobblestones. "Just— We're almost there, so don't pass out again, okay?"

The extra weight made his knees ache all the worse, but he let Eusine lean on him all the way back to the Pokémon Center. Chairs. They needed chairs or a sofa or something or Silver was going to drop right there on the floor.

Or— shit.

No, Eusine was.

His breathing filled Silver's ears, that ragged, frantic pattern, and his weight seemed to double on Silver's shoulders.

Silver looked around, his gaze flitting from stranger to stranger. The nurse was too far away and he didn't know these people, didn't want them near him. Lance… Lance would know what to do.

"Hey, hey, hey."

Silver flinched, but it was just Morty. He came barreling across the room wearing a fierce expression Silver had never seen before, not even in the heat of battle. He caught Eusine before he could really fall and dragged him to one of the padded benches on the wall. Feet up, head down, nurse jogging over from the front desk.

"Don't," Eusine said feebly, both hands grasping at his face. "Don't."

Morty talked over him, a sharp edge in his voice. "It's okay, Eusine, we're at the Pokémon Center. You're safe."

Not listening.

There was some disconnect… Eusine had lifted his head after the initial collapse. Yes. The congestion in his head had to have been awful; it must have hurt like hell to have his head tilted back like that.

"Move." Silver pushed Morty out of the way with his hip and shoved his palms under the back of Eusine's head, tilting it a few inches off the bench. Eusine thanked him with two booming sneezes. Silver glared at Morty, who was just standing there with his hands by his sides. "Go get a pillow or something."

Then the nurse came striding in and Silver refused to be bullied out of the way. He kept his hands under Eusine's head even though it made his wrists ache.

"I'm sorry for the fuss," Eusine said, and he sounded so nasal that Silver barely recognized his voice. His clear, bright eyes met Silver's for a moment. Silver scowled and Eusine looked away again. "I'm fine, really."

"He's not," Silver said. "He passed out once already."

"And I'm fine now," Eusine said emphatically. "Morty, tell them."

Morty, who had apparently acquired a jacket from somebody, looked up with a curiously blank face. "Is this your 'phenomenal immune system' at work?"

Eusine buried his arm in his sleeve and coughed deeply.

Several things happened at once: Morty displaced Silver and tucked the jacket under Eusine's head; the nurse ran a thermometer over his forehead; Silver nearly tripped over Sneasel.

"Slightly elevated temperature," the nurse said, looking down at Eusine. "You need to rest and get plenty of fluids."

Pale blue curtains surrounded them. Eusine shivered beneath an ugly green blanket. Above their heads, an IV bag reflected the light like the world's worst disco ball.

"Hey, Silver," Eusine said, and sniffled.

His voice was shredded from all the coughing he'd done and he sounded about as exhausted as Silver felt. "Don't talk," Silver said, scowling up at him. With nowhere else to go, he sat on the floor with his shoulders braced against the edge of the bench.

"This is important."

"I'm not sure I trust your judgment now." Eusine chuckled at this, which only made Silver scowl. "I'm serious."

"I know, Silver." Eusine propped himself up on one arm and thankfully, did not come over pale and faint as he had done when Morty had sat him up to take his tailcoat off. "I just wanted to apologize to you."

"Don't bother," Silver said at once.

He really should have known better. Eusine had a listening problem. How did Morty stand this guy? "But I am sorry. I wasted your time today, and you strike me as someone who can't stand that."

"Oh."

He… That…

He would have been right, was the thing. Why wasn't he right? Silver hadn't really had the time for much more than simmering irritation and nausea twisting in his guts all the way down the mountain.

What was he supposed to say?

He settled on a gruff, "Just don't do it again" and crossed his arms over his chest.

Eusine laughed again and relaxed back down onto the bench. "I'll certainly try not to. That's a promise."

[spacecowboyhotch]

FTL - Part 2: BLEEDING

gif by @hunterschafer

summary: this is the opening of new wounds, the deepening of old ones.

characters: fem!reader x javier peña, steve murphy, mentions of connie and messina

contents: 18+/nsfw/MINORS DNI, grief, pining, angst, death, mental health, alcohol mention/abuse, smoking

AN: this gets better i swear, but only before it gets just a tad worse. reader and javi have a blowup in the next bit.

word count: 1.8k

series masterlist | misc. masterlist | requests are open

read Part 1: SALOME.

The morning of, you put on the black dress– your designated funeral dress– that’s gotten a decent amount of wear since you moved to Colombia. You’re staring in the mirror, trying to comprehend that you’re wearing this dress not just for anyone. The last 48 hours have been nothing but a blur. You know that this is reality, you’ve cried enough tears to solidify that. The constant ache in your chest helps too, your grief is real, no matter how much your brain refuses it. Your heart knows.

The shrill of your phone makes you jump. A piece of you hopes it's him. The reasonable part of you that knows Javier Peña would never call you feels a twisted sense of satisfaction when you see your younger brother– Ethan’s– name light up the screen.

You give yourself a voiceless pep talk and clear your throat before picking up, “Hey, Ethan.”

“Hey, how are you holding up?” His voice is delicate and low as if he’s speaking to a wounded animal. If it were anyone else, you’d hate it but it's your baby brother, so you let it slide.

“Oh, you know me. I’m fine.”

“I’m not dad, you don’t have to act like everything’s okay. We’re softer, you and me.”

“I’m fine,” You reiterate firmly. The last thing you need is anyone in your family thinking you couldn’t handle something. Even Ethan was prone to falling into your fathers dated way of thinking from time to time.

“Dad says you can come home if you want.”

That makes you laugh for the first time in days, “Yeah, I think I’ll take my chances with assholes down here, at least they’re not my family and I can-“ You stop yourself before you say too much, never wanting Ethan to know just how brutal your job could be at times.

“You can what?” He prompts when silence hangs between you.

“I’ll call you later, I’m gonna be late to the funeral.”

His protests are silenced when you hang up, setting your phone on do not disturb. You know Ethan will tell your father word for word what you’ve said, but he thinks he knows best and will call to tell you that. He thinks he knows everything, it's why your mother’s death hit so hard. It's why you ended up at the college furthest away. It's on the list of reasons why you took this job. If there was anyone who could get you through today it would be your mother. The unresolved grief attached to losing her isn’t making this any easier, it's only making functioning worse.

The cherry on top of all of this is that Javier doesn’t even come to the funeral. You shouldn't be surprised, he’s said before that he doesn’t do funerals but you’d think with the amount of guilt that was on his face when you saw him that he’d show. For some stupid reason, you thought that he’d do this for you since he’d already failed; you thought you would be an exception. Maybe the exception. Instead of admitting it hurts, his absence just further fuels your anger. Salome deserves his presence, he owes her his respects. So do you.

Everyone says really nice words. They coat all your senses in this sickly sweet layer of comfort that’ll melt away once you’re all alone again. Murphy stands beside you the entire, his hand coming over to rub your back in a consoling gesture every time a sob racks your body. Eventually, your cries come often enough that his hand doesn’t leave. It would be embarrassing if you weren't engulfed in it.

This is the opening of new wounds, the deepening of old ones. It feels like a reminder from some deity above: you are broken, no matter what good you do. You'll never be the same no matter how much you run.

You’ve written a few words and as her partner, you know you have to pull it together and say them. Not just for yourself, but because Salome’s family can’t even be here. For all intents and purposes, you are her family. Once it's your turn, Murphy helps you around to the other side of her casket so that you’re facing the scores of people here to pay your respects. The piece of paper that you’ve written on is worn; you’ve folded and unfolded it too many times to count, staring at the words, still unable to accept that they’re real. You take a deep breath, and your eyes scan the crowd one last time just in case he’s decided to prove you wrong. He hasn’t, and you start to read.

“Salome means peace, and it was fitting. She had this calm about her even in the most harrowing situations that just made you feel like everything would be okay. My last conversation with her was one where she comforted me, where she tried to be my peace like she had been so many times before. She went out exactly how she wanted, in the throes of battle, fighting for the peace that Colombia deserves. And while she’s found hers already, it's our job to keep her alive by pushing on. To Salome, and all she was and will forever be.”

When the funeral’s over Murphy and Connie try to get you to come back to their place but you want to be alone. You want to hear Sal’s laugh again. You want the tender touch of your mother’s arms around you. Messina calls you shortly after you’re home from the funeral, tells you to take a few days off and you happily oblige.

There are bottles upon bottles of wine in your fridge, it was you and Sal’s thing, drinking a bottle together before heading to a local bar to listen to the live music there or dance with the guys that always wanted more. You can never go back there, the thought of being in that place without her makes your stomach turn. Staring at the wine in the fridge, you decide you need something stronger. Something that’ll knock away the overwhelming grief that sits on your shoulders quickly unlike the soothing sweetness of wine.

You hit the liquor store just around the corner, figuring that a few bottles of whiskey will do. It's the same kind that was in Murphy’s desk, the same kind that Javier had put him on to because he always questioned Murphy’s taste. You stuff down the thoughts about him, as you shuffle into your apartment, throwing all but one of the bottles in the freezer.

Whiskey’s your new crutch as you ply yourself with it, day after day. It comes out of the freezer ice cold and heats your body with a sting that makes you forget. But, that reprieve is only temporary and leaves you with migraines and a stomach that can’t hold anything down. The cool tile of the bathroom floor becomes your bedroom.

When you chance a look in the mirror after a four-day bender you realize you’ve got to get your shit together no matter how much it hurts. If Salome saw you like this she’d kick your ass, not to mention what your mother would think.

So after one last long swing, you pour the rest of the liquor down the drain. The shower you take afterward is thorough. You scrub at your skin until it’s raw, and massage your shampoo into your scalp until your migraine has subsided significantly. When you look in the mirror again it’s not so bad, not on the outside. It makes you look presentable, ready to take on the job and whatever else, even if the grief is bleeding out of your eyes.

The days run into each other a little less once you’re back at work. Messina had been kind and told you to take as much time as you want but after 5 days of drowning your sorrows and letting them swallow you whole, you were itching to get back to something that would take your mind off of the loss. If this kept your mind off your mother, it could work Salome too, couldn’t it?

Javier blames himself even though logically he shouldn’t. He had nothing to do with intel, it’d been checked and he went in just as blind as everyone else. But he told you that he would bring Salome back. Since he’s been in Colombia he tries to keep his word; he broke it enough back at home.

“Have you talked to her?” Javier asks as he pours Murphy a drink, sliding it across the table to him.

Her meaning you. He’s found himself glancing at the window around the time you would leave for work. He’s stared at the phone, tried to build up the courage to call you. It always ends with him listening to the dial tone before turning to the bottle. He doesn’t know what he would say to you anyways.

Murphy shakes his head, lighting a cigarette, “Not much, she’s not doing so well. She’s focused on working and nothing else, hardly goes home.”

“Mmm,” His eyebrows raise before he throws back his own drink, refilling the glass quickly.

“She looks like hell, but you’ll see with your own two eyes. She’ll be here next week.”

He tries not to look too alarmed at the thought of you here, “What for?”

“Messina’s making us take turns taking care of your ass,” Murphy offers him a cigarette and he gladly takes it, his nerves all over the place at the sight of you outside of his door.

He breathes in the smoke and it feels like pins are sinking into his ribs. The pressure’s only slightly relieved when he blows out, “Sure she is.”

Fucking Messina. Javier trusts her and respects her but sometimes she’s a little much for him. This is one of those times.

“Have you tried to talk to her?”

They both know the answer to that. Javier doesn’t even have to vocalize it.

They sit there for a while in comfortable silence, the heaviness of all the unspoken emotion sitting between them. This is how Javier deals, keeping it bottled up with a drink and light in hand. Murphy learned this lesson about Javi early on. This is what he needs, he can’t push talking and processing on him unless he wants to end up further away from him than where he started.

By the time he leaves he’s successfully strong-armed Javi into taking the pain medication that’s gone untouched. He would prefer to drink but figures Murphy’s right. He’ll attempt to not mix the substances tomorrow, though he doesn’t know if he can go a day without downing the amber liquid even if he wanted to.

Javi’s hoping that Murphy is wrong. He’s hoping that in your growing contempt for him that you’ve made someone else take up the task of dropping off the things he needs on your designated week. He can hardly face himself, he has no idea how to face you.

read Part 3: IN THE STARS.

if you’d like to be on my pedro pascal characters taglist lmk!

javi taglist: @lesbianhotch, @honeybrowne, @hotchs-bitch, @jazzelsaur, @bubblybubbubs

[filthforfriends]

Hi! I’m the anon who sent in that Alpha!ethan ask! You asked for more ideas so I opened the floodgates of my brain lmao. Omega!reader goes into heat while Ethan is running errands or smth and when he gets back reader literally gets on her knees and starts crying and nuzzling against his legs and is just begging for his knot.

Reader who’s a part of the band (maybe second vocal with Dami?) and she’s the only omega so they all make fun of her (in a nice way) cause she’s just so submissive and so sweet and they jokingly treat her like this little doll, or a fragile thing to be protected but they mean well. And they just tease her about her relationship with Ethan constantly. And it’s a joke until they’re out doing stuff together and reader gets threatened and suddenly there’s three very angry alphas and a beta (Thomas. Idk why I just can’t see him as an alpha) and the person threatening her just runs off immediately while the rest of the band just cooes over their youngest member (reader).

Theyre out and about in Rome and paps start swarming them and reader gets anxious and of course Ethan can tell because they’re mates and they’re literally biologically designed to be perfect for each other, so he lets off some calming pheromones and it works until cameras start being shoved in their faces, trying to get a good shot of the two rockstars, and Ethan just loses it, growling and holding her close and warning them to back off.

Maybe Må are all at the airport, and reader is tinier than all of them, and the youngest and the only Omega, so they’re all really protective. So every time they walk through an airport or smth like that they literally form a circle around her to keep her safe

Or what about when reader crowdsurfs? Naturally all of them wear revealing outfits and sometimes things go wrong but one time she’s only got tape covering her nipples and she’s crowdsurfing and some guy thinks it’s a great idea to try and feel up her boob, and Ethan deadass stops playing, stands up, walks over to the edge of the stage, grabs Damiano’s mic and just looks at the guy with a kind of deadly fury none of the fans have ever seen from him before and just says “if you touch my omega like that one more time security will be escorting you out. And they won’t be nice about it.” Cause literally everyone loves the reader, even the staff and the people who work for them.

Or maybe exploring on the band dynamics, obviously she’s Ethan’s omega and none of the other members would ever try anything without both parties explicit permission. But Victoria has panic attacks and an omega scenting her helps, so reader just nuzzles her face against Vic and it calms her down. And she just does all these things with certain band members that are just so undeniably omega things to do but not they’re so sweet and helpful.

What about all of their scents? Cause I think with A/B/O dynamics the scents are always so interesting. Personally I feel like Alpha!Ethan would kinda smell like smoke and a forest, but in a good way. Alpha!Damiano smells like pine and that icy smell you get when it’s snowing or cold outside. Alpha!Vic smells like warmth and the colour red I can’t explain it. Like a spicy cinnamon thing and it’s great. Beta!Thomas as a beta naturally has less of a distinct smell but the small he does have is like fresh air and clean laundry. And then reader smells like flowers and it’s just the most inviting scent ever.

God I have so many ideas I’m so sorry to bombard your inbox.

Posting these fantastic headcannons for now because tumblr deserves them

[liaromancewriter]

Have Ethan/Cassie/Max/Sienna ever gotten high? Have they been offered? What’s their opinion on it?

Cassie has not. She never quite understood the appeal of losing control of yourself like that. Plus, she was a dancer and ran track in high school. Both those activities require a high degree of athleticism and drugs would have ruined that. She knows the medical benefits of marijuana in certain situations. Recreational use though is a different thing.

Ethan likes being in control of his life, and he wouldn't see the appeal of getting high for the sake of fun. At the same time, he tried weed in college just to see what it was about. But he hated it. Once he found out about Louise’s addictions in college (my headcanon for that is here), he was never tempted to experiment again.

Max has experimented with recreational drugs, specifically Ecstasy and marijuana. It was twice but he decided it was absolutely not for him. When Cassie found out, she lectured him extensively and it was not pleasant. 😆

Ecstasy was with his former high school gf during their FWB arrangement. They liked to party together and dropped E once while clubbing. The second time was inadvertent. He dated a chef once; she fed him magic brownies but didn’t tell him until after they had sex. He was pissed AF. He forgave her but never saw her again.

Sienna got high once during freshman year in college. There was a party in her dorm and her roommate goaded her into smoking weed. She kept coughing the whole time and it was not pleasant. And she was never tempted again.

Character Asks: @annfg8 @bluebelle08 @cariantha @crazy-loca-blog @coffeeheartaddict2 @doriopenheart @lucy-268 @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mrs-ramsey @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

[iamrizaka]

Zeus hates it when he's drunk.

Asteria hated fermented nectar and wine, she preferred to stay in a clear mind and a sober body.

But he's - not her.

Alabaster needs to forget, lose touch with reality and stop seeing the difference between memories and reality.

drunk to death drunk Alabaster pours dirt from his tongue, teases, provokes and behaves playfully-boyish.

Zeus becomes rougher and tougher, he turns into a rabid animal obsessed with his own pleasure.

drunk Alabaster himself climbs up to him, hugs him by the neck and presses his whole body.

drunk Alabaster laughing through crying.

drunk alabaster falls asleep with fresh bruises on his thighs and blood streaming down his skin, thinking that tomorrow he will hate everything even more and Lou Ellen will most likely call Will again.

drunk Alabaster still wants the kids not to see it.

drunk Alabaster still regrets that they were alive.

drunk Alabaster still hates everything.

Lee and Ethan always try to be close to him when he drinks. They know what happens when he gets drunk and heads over to Zeus, he told them. So they try to prevent it and spend time with him, talking about everything (when Lee gets comfortable too, he pulls off the lighter and smokes).

Alabaster knows they are doing it for his own good, but can't help but feel pathetic and disappointed in himself.

The feelings are slowly bubbling up inside of him, and he doesn't know when they will burst out.

[m4gp13]

I think Daisuke's relationship to Percy and Ethan is personified by the song, — I Bet on Losing Dogs - Mitski.

He knows perfectly well that maybe they will both die by 20 or even teenagers, but Daichi [Daisuke's nickname] still loves, cares and protects them, works hard so that his sons have everything they need…

Although he knows that everything will end in smoke and ashes.

I Bet on Losing Dogs is one of my favourite songs for Ethan and a lot of the TA demigods. Particularly the whole 'someone to watch me die' line. When he died he really was alone, neither of the people he was fighting for cared at all and Percy hated him right up until that moment (and we never really see him reflect on his feelings about Ethan later on with the hindsight of his death) so I imagine it would have been a comforting thought for him if he believed he at least had his dad on his side, even if he wasn't there watching him.

[utterlyinevitable]

(Further) Trials & Tribulations (4/?)

↳ series masterlist

Maybe It’s Time to Face the Music

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Becca Lao) x Bryce Lahela Rating: Teen+ Warnings: mentions of depression Tropes: Bryce- Hurt/Comfort, Friends with Benefits; Ethan- The Amazon

Summary: Bryce takes Becca to an outdoor concert, and there’s some kissin’

________________

Few days after Donahue’s, (and the emotional turmoil that came with nearly having sex with a stranger against a sticky bathroom sink because  Tobias didn’t sit right with her and there was something missing. Becca knew she couldn’t be with anyone else. When she had Tobias’s hands on her she imagined it as someone else… bright eyes came into view. Soft hands and a god-like face. She found warmth in the idea of someone completely different) Bryce bounded into her apartment one Saturday morning, dragging her out of her cocoon. 

“You down?” he asks after moving the mountain of bedding off of her, staring at her hopefully.

“No, I’m asleep,” Becca grumbles, nuzzling further into the lone pillow under her head and definitely missed any of the plans Bryce spoke of upon his entrance. 

“Too bad.” He leans over dipping the mattress and steals the pillow out from under her, “Get dressed loser we’re going dancing!” 

“Wha-” 

“There’s a music festival downtown. We’re going.” He says it swiftly, a matter of fact, that Becca doesn’t dare question. 

Not like she has the energy to fight with him either.

Standing in the middle of a brown grass field steps away from the entrance to whatever festival he dragged them to, the sun shining through a cloudless blue sky, Becca looks around from the tall wooden set board to the makeshift sign pointing out the three stages and designated smoking areas and toilet points, to the stalls peppered in odd formations full of food and drink and other essential oddities. There’s just so much. 

“What’s our plan of attack?” 

Bryce shrugs, his smile grander than the sun, “Get drunk and dance our hearts out to some stellar tunes.”

Her brows furrow. “You don’t have a list of what sets you wanna see?” 

“Don’t know any of the acts.” 

Even eclipsed by sunglasses she could tell he winked. And before she could even roll her eyes, he grabbed her by the hand and whisked her away. 

Hours or so later Becca and Bryce are having the time of their life. Thoroughly pleased with the turn of events and not just because the canned cocktails went down easier than water and the music was good. They were bouncing to the music surrounded by other bodies having an equally good time, pure vibes. Bryce couldn’t remember the last time he felt this happy, so happy he’s sure he may lose his voice later on. And Becca... she’s radiant and more so the woman he knows her as than ever before.

"How are we feeling?" he asked smugly, wrapping an arm affectionately around a tipsy Becca, who leaned back into his body and giggled.

"Can't believe they’re actually good!" she nearly screamed while looking up at him, as the crowd started singing the refrain. "Thank you for this."

He bent his neck to speak to her. "I'm so glad you're here!" he said, his lips accidentally brushing her ear.

Bryce was buzzing when he felt goosebumps erupt on her skin under his fingers.

"Me too!" she said, beaming at him. The eye contact they held was a second too long, for she threw him a shy smile and turned back to look at the stage, swaying with him as the music played.

His eyes trailed down her body, he blinked and... she was shining. Smiling wide and true.

Bryce didn’t plan on anything happening between them. But he couldn’t help the old feelings that never quite went away from reentering his veins. Call it a lack of judgment or liquid courage, or whatever, because his chest flutters when he looks at her. 

Her wittiness, her kindness, her empathy just added to her looks and her body - That body was all sorts of sinful with curves, soft and pliable, and familiar, as she leaned against him.

She was beautiful. Always. He’s thought so since the moment he met her and she laughed at his dumb joke, half naked in the locker room.

And he’s told her so, too. As much as he could in the most feather-light and complimentary of ways in their brief stint as light hearted lovers, friends with all the benefits.

Even though they’ve amicably drifted from fuckbuddies to the best of pals ages ago, today - right here and now - there’s those same old coy smiles, those lingering gazes, and the constant need to keep touching each other. Have his hands held anything but her the last hour?

"I’m gonna be a lobster later," she yelled over the music, tapping the tops of her freckled shoulders and pulling Bryce out of his reverie.

"I told you to dress for the outdoors, Becks," he chuckled in her ear.

She moved from him then looked down at her top, drawing Bryce’s eyes as well. The deep v-neck of her half-zip black ribbed tank and high waisted short shorts.

His neck flushed hot and his cheeks burned. He looked up and what he saw was blinding lights and anticipation in the air for something... more. She smirked, a teasing glint in her eye that made his heart skip a beat. 

And, with eyes locked, she took a step. 

And Bryce held his breath. 

And they just fell together. 

Literally. 

Becca tripped on a beer bottle and fell into his chest, knocking into him. Bryce’s hands caught her waist to steady her, hooking his finger in the belt loop of her jeans, just because. She threw her head back and laughed. Watching her laugh like that was so soothing for his soul.

“You okay?” he asked, the words breathless and just for her in the crowded space.

She nodded. Slow and eyes searching. And her toes curling. Her lips a mere millimeter away from his. He could feel her uneven breaths against his mouth, feel the pounding of her heart against his chest. He wanted to kiss her senseless, tangle his fingers in her hair and press her up against him until they were only one.

And so he did. 

Bryce captured her lips, hesitantly at first, then fervently when she deepened the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck, and didn’t stop. They didn’t stop - didn’t regret it. 

It felt right at that moment. His hands on her now exposed waist, tingling the soft skin beneath. Moving up her back and pulling her closer. Out in the open for anyone to see. 

God, it felt good. Becca didn’t need to hide her affection, she could take him right then and there if she wanted to. It was so liberating. She hasn’t felt this free in weeks. 

When they parted for air, Bryce is the one to pull back just enough to watch the emotions on her face. 

“Becks…” 

But she wouldn’t let him apologize, so she said full of twinkles, “I’d say I’m sorry but…” 

And he pulled her in for another heated kiss. 

“How much had you had to drink?” he asked. 

Three. He knew the answer, they’d had the same amount. He wanted to make sure she really wouldn’t regret this. 

“Not enough to make stupid decisions.” 

“You wanna get out of here?” 

_____________________

@choicesficwriterscreations​ @openheartfanfics​

> complete masterlist <

Perma:

@jerzwriter   @quixoticdreamer16   @terrm9 @crazy-loca-blog   @the-pale-goddess   @schnitzelbutterfingers​   @gryffindordaughterofathena   @lucy-268   @reputaytion-xiii @peonierose   @withbeautyandrage @little-flowers-on-heaven​ @parisa-kh   @forallthatitsworth   @maurine07 @cariantha​  @starrystarrytrouble​ @mvalentine

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Bryce:

@weaving-in-words​  

[vicsdeangelis]

that video of Ethan just in his blue boxers 😩 like imagine waking up and coming to the kitchen looking like THIS while he’s preparing some breakfast mhmmm. and boom morning sex right on the kitchen counter when the breakfast is fully ruined

it's your first time staying the night at his place, so when you wake up you're no exactly ready for the vision that is ethan torchio making breakfast in nothing but underwear.

your brain is still a little foggy with sleep, and you don't really think while making your way to him, dropping yourself over his back. you kiss him between his shoulder blades, the back of his neck, sucking on his skin, adding to the marks you already left the night before. your hands touch his chest, nails lightly scratching his abs, fingers tracing the elastic of his boxers.

he says your name in a stern tone, like a warning, but he leans back into your touch, enjoying every second of your attention. he stops moving, stops paying attention to the food; just closes his eyes and lets you feel him.

he turns in your arms to face you, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. you can feel your legs shaking as his tongue explores your mouth and his hands run up and down your body. he pushes you until your back hits the counter, trapping you with his body.

he doesn't stop kissing you when he lifts the shirt you borrowed from him, cupping one of your breasts, teasing the nipple with his thumb. he doesn't stop kissing you when his other hand finds its way between your legs, his fingers touching you over your panties, swallowing your moans. he doesn't stop kissing you when he pushes the fabric to the side, gathering your wetness and spreading it all over your pussy.

you touch him through his boxers, feeling the groan it earns you more than you hear it. your head is spinning as you pull them down his thighs, as you stroke his hard cock, as you guide him between your legs. your body is shaking as he slides between your folds, covering himself in your slick.

you grab him by his hair, pulling his lips away from yours. panting, you rest your forehead on his shoulder, watching as he pushes inside. it feels nearly delirious, the sight of his cock stretching you out, the feeling of him filling you up, his moans next to your ear. your nails dig into his skin as a response.

his thrusts are deep, and you feel him everywhere. you want to close your eyes, lose yourself to it, but you can't help it, watching as he pounds into your cunt, moaning louder and louder each time.

he whispers filthy things to you in between groans, his grip on your thigh tight enough to bruise. it's overwhelming. you feel your toes curling, your back arching, your orgasm nearing. you meet his thrusts halfway desperately, clawing at him, nonsensical words and pleas spilling out of your mouth.

when it hits you, you see stars behind your eyes. you feel ethan's pace faltering, his body tensing, his cum inside of you. you feel yourself going limp against him, eyes never leaving the way your bodies meet. when he pulls out, you can feel warmth dripping down your thighs.

he pulls you into his arms, kissing your hair, and you smile. you have every intention of staying just like that, until your plans are ruined by beeping of the smoke detector.

he curses and laments the burnt food, and you laugh into his chest, feeling nothing but blissfulness

[minaharkers]

2, 3, 4 for lukas and 23, 26, 27 for ophelia! 👀

THANK YOU ILY!!! 💖🫶💕🫰

🌵Lukas

2: Which faction(s) did they join and which did they destroy? Why?

The current canon ending I have Lukas doing is independent Vegas but down the line after the Battle for the Hoover Dam he joins the Followers of the Apocalypse. He does really like doing the work that they do and he’s pretty good at medicine even though literally none of it is formal training LMAO. A couple of years down the line he even manages to find his bio mom through the Followers since she’d been doing work for them in the NCR :,)

And the faction he destroys is the Legion because 1. duh 2. His home was one of the “tribes” that were in their path of destruction

3. What is their S.P.E.C.I.A.L.?

At the beginning of the game:

S: 4

P: 7

E: 5

C:8

I:8

A:5

L:5

4. Give us a summary of their backstory

OH BOY HERE WE GO.

Lukas spends the first 11 years of his life in the small settlement of New Eden - a splinter faction of the New Canaanites that his father led after he declared himself a prophet of the Lord (he thought he saw an angel while stranded during a hunting party what was most likely a hallucination). Home life is. Not great. His father’s pretty subscribed to a very toxic projection of masculinity and expects a lot from his children - it’s toxic as hell and Lukas chafes a lot under them. His older brother Ethan got a big portion of their father’s abuse and ends up perpetuating it onto his younger siblings Julia and Lukas. So at 11 he ends up tailing a trading caravan that had recently stopped by in hopes he could leave, scrape caps together and get his mother and sister to leave too.

Like maybe two days in, he gets caught and the caravan decides they’re gonna send someone to take him back because they’re afraid they’ll lose a valuable trade partner if they’re suspected of kidnapping the leader’s son.

The one who escorts him is a ghoul named Majorie who does actually hear him out, and by the time they almost reach the settlement she’s tempted to say fuck it and keep the kid when they see black smoke rising in the distance.

All they find is a burnt-out shell of a town and one Legion flag staked in front - they’d missed the Legion by about a day who had taken everything and then burnt the rest to the ground. (So he doesn’t know this - but basically Ethan had been slowly being converted to the Legion when meeting and trading w them and sold New Eden out for a good position - a few had managed to flee including Julia and their mother.)

Majorie takes Lukas under her wing at first as a temporary thing before she can find someone to take him in, but that doesn’t work out at all and she’s like a mom figure for him.

She ends up dying from a bullet wound shortly before the Hopeville delivery and Lukas has been drifting since doing random courier jobs since he doesn’t have like any roots at all, leading up to the events of New Vegas.

🌊 Ophelia

23. Do they have a temper or are they level headed?

Oh my god yes. People don’t assume she does because she’s very sweet most of the time but you will regret pissing her off

26. How do they come off to others? What first impression do they usually make?

Ophelia comes off as very mild-mannered, a little shy to most people. As the game goes on it can be hard for people to connect her reputation and deeds to the person standing in front of them.

27. Do they prefer to travel alone or with company? Who have they traveled with if any? Current companion if any?

It was really hard for her to travel alone when she first left the vault!! She was so used to having people around. She does get used to solitude when traveling eventually but you know Dogmeat is literally always with her!! She does finally manage to convince Butch to travel with her and it’s a weird friendship neither of them thought they’d have.

[jwittekchatter]

Recap of “Emergency” Patreon Live from 12/28/23:

-he was at his apartment with Kyle. Said there is no emergency. He didn’t know why Kyle labeled it like that. (I thought he was going to end Patreon tbh so I’m glad it wasn’t anything serious)

-they’re working on a year-end recap (maybe like Logan’s? Has Jeff done one before?) Kyle was editing.

-said the beef with Steven is squashed but he doesn’t know the future of him being on the pod. Doesn’t know if he’ll be back.

-opened Christmas gifts with his family on Xmas Eve. Got his dad cash and some weed (o don’t think his dad or parents smoke so ?)

-got his mom tickets to the Rolling Stone concert in May 2024 in Mew Jersey. Mike and his mom will go with them. (That’s sweet).

-said something about how Italy was last year. His memory must be coming back because at one point he said it was three years ago

-will get his New York apartment in either February or March 2024 (previously said it would be January 2024). **I still don’t know if I believe he’ll actually go through with the NY move. It would make sense for him and maybe Mike to get a place since they visit often but idk, Jeff’s so flighty and flaky. He changes his mind a lot.

-left his parents’ house the day after Xmas to work on this recap video

-said someone that’s sort of in his crew hooked up with Ryan’s ex (that we saw at Coachella). He said he wouldn’t name them but if the chat guessed he’d say. People guessed Aaron, Steven, Jeff said no. A bunch of people said Cody and then Jeff stopped responding and moved on. I wonder how Cody met her if she doesn’t live in LA? That’s weird because she’s early 20s and Cody is 36 so yikes.

-said he was leaving Friday morning

-Oscar got engaged

-has 1,500 emails about the dating show. Feels stressed and anxious about it. Said he might get someone else to sort through them. **I think he rushed into this idea because he’s desperate to have a girlfriend and now he’s freaking out about it. He shouldn’t jump head first into things without actually having some thought behind them

-one of his goals for 2024 is the cuss less on the pod

-someone asked what his team did this year that made him proud. He said Oscar losing the Bruce episode 🙄 that even though it was tough it was a reset for the team.

-Oscar now handles only the pod, Kyle handles the main channel and Patreon, Iban oversees everything

-said Jeffrey Shore was a fun series **he was attacked and disrespected the entire trip by Tana and Imari so big yikes!!!

-said Aaron helps with clips and editing. Oscar wants to create a podcast network and produce other podcasts. Jeff isn’t interested in having a network (he’s said in a live or somewhere before that he did want to have a network so see what I mean about how fast he changes his mind? He said before that they could create a network that has Tana, Mike, and maybe a show from Ryan and Steven…now he has zero interest in doing that)

-doesn’t want his content to be PG. wants to post consistently on main channel and pod channel. Said pod channel still makes a lot more money than main channel (that surprises me because they leave in a lot of inappropriate things that I would think would get him age restricted. I’m surprised sponsors have any interest in the pod with how it’s been going)

-said he was insecure about getting guests after the Bruce issue (yeah we could tell 🙄) but they’re back in a good place. They have multiple back ups so an episode shouldn’t get deleted again.

-someone asked again about Vince and the shooting at his house. Jeff said he heard about it and is glad he’s ok but he hasn’t talked to Vince in a long time and they aren’t friends anymore. didn’t want to go into it but seemed very hurt. **people need to stop asking about Vince. It’s obviously a sore subject and bothers Jeff when he’s asked about it. He lost a longtime friend to David and the VS, I understand his hurt about that.

-might have Ethan on the pod because he “owes him” for The Steamies

-talked about hanging with The Nelk Boys. Said they’re nice but likes their managers more. Needs older, positive connections in his life **he should get away from Tana and her teenage friends then

-he checked off his goals for 2023

-said pod is doing better than ever **the view counts aren’t great outside of the Trisha episode so I’m confused by this. The pod topics are so boring and repetitive so I don’t get it

-someone asked where he’s going Friday morning because he didn’t elaborate. He said Mike invited him to Cabo but has a bunch of day parties planned. Jeff had no interest in being around parties with drunk people so he said he might just stay home to work on the recap vlog.

-said he liked the lost on his Reddit saying whatever Jeff said about Matt Rife was good

-he had no idea Brooke dated him and has seen some TikToks Brooke made since.

said he couldn't date a girl with a podcast because "even though I'm not a piece of shit" he wouldn't want to be talked about. Kept saying he's not a piece of shit (meaning, with women)

-was asked if he considered not including the fight with Steven in the last pod. said he did but its what happened and was a big part of the pod. and of course said it's good for content 🙄

-said he might go to Cabo and Cody is in Bali and might join him **he didn't go to Cabo or Bali. he posted a run on Strava from LA

-wants to go to Antarctica soon ** omg 🙄

-hasn't been going to jiu jitsu for a while bit will go back

-had Italian food for dinner

-said Sicily will happen this year. they will talk about plans after the new year. said he might find his wife there

-did 23 & Me and is actually Sicilian

-apologized for slacking on Patreon

-wants to do more lives. they might edit them and post on the main channel. **or he could actually advertise his Patreon and get more viewers that way???

-the only mention of Tana was earlier when he said they have good chemistry "despite how some people feel about her"

Overall, he was in a good mood and was really wanting to get this recap vlog done. Said they had been dealing with life things so that's why they were slacking on Patreon. he also said he doesn't know how much longer he can use that excuse for.

Thank you!

[taughtcruelty]

[ TACKLE ]:    sender physically tackles the receiver during a fight.

THERE’S TOO MANY HUNTERS, TOO MANY CORPSES OF ALLIES & ENEMIES ALIKE strewn across a blood-soaked parking lot. tory can smell blood, gunpowder, death, anger & fear. the sharp acrid tastes of wolfsbane, mountain ash & mistletoe choke her senses, making it hard to focus. the choking smoke from the fire nearby doesn’t help make anything better, either.

at this point, she’s knee-deep in multiple warm corpses of their enemies. no one important from their pack has died, but a handful of wolves from the darst pack (an ally of emile’s) have died, & so have a handful of chris argent & johnny’s hunting friends. there’s blood soaking in her shoes, stained on her ripped, gunpowder-streaked clothes. her claws & fangs are bloodied, aching, but she’s not on the ground in pain. there’s blood caked in the roots of her hair from being kicked in the head earlier in the fight, but nova swooped in to rescue her from that. the teen boy who kicked her is dead on the pavement a few feet away, his jugular ripped out by ciro, his face charred by his hellhound’s fire. tory’s training thanks to emile & her sharp instincts are keeping her alive. her friends & mates are fighting for their lives - & for each other.

despite this, their pack still remain surrounded. allison’s hunters just keep appearing. it’s like they’re fighting a damn hydra - one dies, two more take the dead’s place.

tory’s been doing her best to keep an eye on sam, miguel, nova, scarlett & cosima. nova roars from somewhere off to tory’s right, & miguel bares his fangs as he kicks away a hunter with all of his might, elbowing another one in the face when the hunter tries to grab sam by her shoulders. their pack is hellbent on killing allison, her hunters, & their fucking deranged fur traders. ethan’s somewhere inside of the abandoned-warehouse-turned-slaughterhouse, but the complex was set ablaze under the top brass’s - allison’s - orders. everyone can sense that ethan’s bond with them has been waining. it’s making both tory & miguel incredibly fucking nervous. they don’t know if he’s stuck somewhere, unable to get out. it’s why theo, charlie, emma, icarus & emile’s werewolf pack are closest to the building right now, only about a football field’s length away from the side door because the front door is practically melted, trying to get in to rescue ethan & the handful of other innocent, kidnapped werecreatures. but they’re locked in a bloody battle with allison herself & her family’s hunters right now. tory can’t see tell who is winning that fight & who is losing right now.

the sound of a pistol cocking goes off from tory’s left, & the blonde doesn’t have any time to spin around before she feels someone tackle her, a snarl of anger leaving her lips instinctively. her world briefly careens to the side, & she winds up landing on her back on the pavement, but the gun goes off in that next millisecond, the bullet whistling through the air over their heads. her clawed hands immediately press against a pair of shoulders, ready to throw the assailant off her with all of her strength. she’s working purely on adrenaline & fear. she settles down enough to realize that it’s @taughtpain. her mate’s eyes are wide, & so are her anger filled ones. she instinctively checks him over for any life-threatening injuries, even with all of the chaos erupting around them. ethan wouldn’t be able to calm himself down if any of them got hurt. once he gets out of the complex okay ( & he will, he has to ), & after they’ve fought off allison & her band of hunters, he’ll immediately want to make sure that they’re all okay.

a pathetically soft whimper of pain sounds from where she’d been standing seconds ago. tory looks over. embedded in the forehead of one of allison’s hunters is a wolfsbane-laced bullet. the girl is about her height. tory’s eyes widen slightly. she feels nausea well up inside of her. if robby didn’t tackle her, that dead wolf could have been her. suddenly, nova appears behind the hunter who’d fired off the gun, & she punches her clawed fist clean through the teen’s chest, killing the boy instantly. her sister doesn’t even wait for the body to fully drop before she pulls out the heart, dropping it onto the ground, only adding to the blood staining the pavement. she quickly checks on tory to make sure she’s okay. tory’s eyes are still wide, but she’s unharmed. nova looks relieved, then she spins around, jumping right back into the battle with a newfound sense of rage filling her entire body.

❝ robby, i-i- ❞ tory begins shakily, staring up at one of her mates with wide eyes, but miguel’s growl of alarm cuts her off. miguel is standing back-to-back with sam now, & tory watches as his sharp claws arc down one of the hunters’ shirts with a brutal swipe, kicking the man’s leg out from underneath him. his eyes are glowing yellow, mouth full of fangs.

❛ ethan just told me he’s trapped in one of the back rooms of the complex. the fire is keeping him from escaping, & it’s getting worse. ❜ miguel tells his partners telepathically, barely taking a breath. tory’s eyes widen with pure fear at the news, & she quickly stands up on shaky legs. ethan’s bond wavers badly, & tory feels like throwing up. ❛ fuck. ❜ she curses, then leaps forward to knock a crossbow out of an approaching hunter’s hands. she doesn’t hesitate to punch that same man square in his face with all of her strength. he stumbles back in pain & tory doesn’t hesitate. she rips the man’s throat out with her claws in a messy, brutal display of speed, accuracy & strength. the man dies with a choked gargle, & tory shoves the dead body away from her & robby. the blonde quickly accesses her telepathic bonds with the whole pack.

❛ i’m going in there to get him. ❜ there’s immediate protest from nova, scarlett & cosima, along with scott & derek & a handful of others too, but tory ignores them. ❛ i’m faster & more agile than most of you combined. i need to save my mate. ❜ she explains, like it’s the only option - & it sort of is. because of her jaguar side, she’s one of the fastest members of the pack as a whole - she knows she’s the only logical choice. nova, too, but she’s more brutal when it comes to fighting, even more so than tory herself. the pack needs her here, defending the pack & taking care of their enemies. tory can rescue ethan.

❛ i’ll go with you to get ethan, tory. ❜ ciro immediately speaks up. tory doesn’t protest. hellhounds are immune to any type of fire, even their own that they can naturally generate. they’re also much stronger than the average werecreature, which makes him perfect to clear any burning debris in the building that tory wouldn’t be able to get near, let alone pick up even with her strength. ❛ the building’s unstable, so we need to not focus on fighting anyone, just getting there. icarus, emma & charlie can cover us if anyone tries to stop us. ❜ he urges. the three in question suddenly teleport next to them, where they’d been fighting allison’s hunters seconds before. tory nods, then quickly turns towards robby.

❝ i’ll be okay. ❞ she blurts out to him, confident in her abilities despite the daunting task ahead of her. even in the middle of battle, tory thinks that robby’s never looked more handsome. she doesn’t hesitate before her hands come up, claws quickly flicking back into her nail-beds, leaving her regular human fingertips. she cups robby’s cheeks gently, looking into his eyes. ❝ i love you, robby. ❞ she murmurs, then surges forward to crush her lips against his own for a brief moment, the blood on her lips & her own resting in her own mouth be damned. just in case. she thinks to herself, then quickly pulls back. ❝ i’ll be back as soon as i can. with ethan. ❞ she promises him just as ciro makes his way over to them. his eyes are glowing orange, & he’s unharmed. the hellhound nods at robby, silently letting him know that he’ll protect tory no matter what.