#Pre-series

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest & @steddie-spooktober.

Smell My Feet

CCF Prompt: Envy & Spooktober Prompt: Trick or Treat | Word Count: 1313 | Rating: T | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Pre-Steddie? They're Kiddos | CW: Latchkey Kids | Tags: Pre-Series, Trick or Treating, Halloween Night, Making a New Temporary Friend Was So Much Easier As Kids

Whoa. This neighborhood is crazy. Eddie pulls up on his bicycle, and looks around. Taking in all the houses. The big, big houses that probably have all the best candy. Kids are running everywhere, criss-crossing the streets, yelling at their friends.

And Eddie can't help but wonder what they're getting. Good stuff, he bets. 

Eddie is all by himself, with Wayne at work. Eddie doesn't know anyone very well, not yet, making friends is hard, especially when you show up a month and half after the first day, but that's okay. He doesn't mind all that much. He's used to moving around.

Tonight though, he's too busy watching the other kids as they're hitting all the houses on the block. He'd listened to his classmates at school gossiping about where the best trick-or-treating would be. He couldn't help but feel jealous hearing them chatter about what they got last year, including dollar bills from the Smith's and the best homemade orange popcorn balls from Ms. Ellen, whoever that is.

All Eddie knew is that he wanted full-size candy bars, dollar bills and orange popcorn balls, too. So, he put on his costume, the cheap plastic thing from Melvald's, and rode his bike the seven miles to get here.

His legs hurt, the pants are kind of shredded, and Wayne's definitely gonna kill him. He was supposed to stay in the trailer park. Trick-or-treat there, because Wayne got thrown on the schedule at the plant, at the last minute. It happens. Eddie's used to it. He's good at taking care of himself. 

But tonight's Halloween. 

And Eddie doesn't want to trick-or-treat in the trailer park, because Eddie knows his neighbors. Knows what he'd get, and he didn't want a pillowcase full of peanut butter kisses and Sixlets.

Instead, he dreams of full size candy bars. Snickers and Hershey and Reeses. 

And Wayne drove him through Loch Nora, showing him the houses he planned to take him to, and Eddie's good at memorizing things he's seen before, so he had no problem getting back. Even if it took a long time. Even if his legs burned from riding uphill.

But he forgets that, the second the candy starts rolling in. And it is good stuff.

After leaning his bike against a tree in the yard, Eddie knocks on the door, remembers to say trick-or-treat, and is surprised to see another little boy standing there with an orange Tupperware bowl of full-size candy bars in his hands.

"Pick one," the boy says, and Eddie looks at all the choices, before taking one from the bowl. 

"Thank you," Eddie says, remembering to be polite. Before he had to work, Uncle Wayne had said they could come to the rich neighborhood, but that Eddie had to be good and polite if they did. Uncle Wayne might not be with him to see if he's polite or not, but he'll still try his best.

The other boy nods, and Eddie can't help asking, "Why aren't you out trick-or-treating?"

The boy shrugs, "My parents aren't home yet. So, I'm answering the door until they get here. And now my friends have already gone without me, anyway. It's okay."

"Oh," Eddie says, and it's not okay. Eddie would hate to miss trick-or-treating. He lingers on the step, then says, "Well, if your parents get home, you can go trick-or-treating with me, if you want to."

"Okay, yeah," the kid says, looking a little happier than he did when he answered the door.

"I'm Eddie," Eddie tells him.

"I'm Steve."

"Okay, Steve. I'll be back later."

"If you forget, that's okay, too," Steve says, and Eddie's not gonna forget. His memory is good.

"I won't forget. You got a costume?"

And Steve nods.

"Good. Get it on."

Steve nods again, and Eddie smiles. He can hit a few more houses, and then go back to see if Steve's ready to go get some candy. 

Eddie takes a long look at the house, memorizing where it sits, and pedals off towards the next house.

Twenty minutes later, Eddie returns, Steve comes out, and he's wearing a Donald Duck mask.

"My mom picked it," Steve says, pushing it up onto the top of his head, and Eddie decides not to make fun. At least Steve still has a mom to pick out his costumes, as stupid as he looks.

"They still aren't home," Steve says.

Eddie takes the bowl, and puts it on the porch, "Got a pen and paper?"

Sign made, they get on their bikes and take off down the bustling street, looking for their first house.

House after house, they run around the whole neighborhood. Steve gives him tips on houses he might have missed otherwise without his inside info.

"Do it," Eddie urges as he pushes the bell and Steve giggles.

The door opens, and Eddie nudges Steve.

"Trick-or-treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat," they both sing-song, and the lady behind the door laughs. Eddie can't believe he got Steve to do it.

"Oh, Steven," she says, but gives them both a big handful of candy.

They both say thank you, and Eddie's having fun. Steve's a year younger than he is, so that's why he's never seen him before at school, but he's tall. Taller than Eddie. 

Eddie's pillowcase is getting heavy and a little hard to handle.

When Steve says he's gotten enough, Eddie happily throws in the towel, too.

Back at Steve's house, they lay on the floor of the huge living room on their bellies, spreading all their candy out, ready to make trades. Steve's parents still haven't come home, and Eddie wonders if they just work late sometimes like Wayne. 

Eddie needs to go.

"Maybe we should ask the neighbor next door to drive you home," Steve says, "it's pretty late."

"I'll be okay," Eddie says, but he does worry about all that candy weighing him down.

Steve follows him to the door, "Thanks for going with me."

Eddie just nods, "Find me at recess. We'll hang out."

And Steve grins, and Eddie really hopes he does.

Steve walks him to his bike, and the streets are pretty empty, trick-or-treating over for another year. Maybe next year Eddie can come back here and do it with Steve again. 

There's one set of headlights, and Steve holds Eddie back at the end of the driveway. It slows as soon as the headlights catch sight of them.

It's a woman, and she rolls down the window, asking kindly, "Steve. It's a little late to be on your bikes, isn't it?"

Steve isn't even on a bike, Eddie thinks. 

"Hi, Nurse Claudia," Steve says, then looks at Eddie. "Um, I know. We lost track of time. This is Eddie. He's just going to ride home."

"Do you live around here, Eddie?" she asks.

And Eddie shakes his head. 

"Can I give you a ride home, then?" she asks, and Eddie really doesn't want to get in with a stranger all by himself. He looks in the backseat and she does have a little kid in a car seat, dressed as a pumpkin.

"Nurse Claudia used to work at the school, before she had a baby," Steve offers, and Eddie nods. That's probably okay, then. It was a long way from the trailer park to here, and now it's dark and cold.

A ride wouldn't be so bad.

"Okay. Thank you," Eddie says, and Steve helps him load his bike into the back hatch of her car, the little kid sound asleep in the backseat, plastic pumpkin clutched in his fist.

Eddie crawls into the front seat, and waves at Steve as they pull away.

"So, Eddie, where do you live?" Nurse Claudia asks.

"Forest Hills Trailer Park," Eddie answers.

"Dustin and I will be happy to take you home. That's a long way, huh?"

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to read takes on all the Seven Deadly Sins, or to offer up your own!

For more Spooktober, pop on over to @steddie-spooktober to follow along with the fun!

Notes: I fucking love peanut butter kisses, Eddie, and I will not stand for this slander of them. The molasses taffy? The dry, crumbly peanut butter inside? Sign me up. (They were discontinued a few years ago, and I haven't seen any knockoffs of them locally.)

Want to see what costumes looked like in 1975? Enter at your own risk. (See: Donald Duck, top row, second from the right.)

And I was a door answering kid on Halloween. Though, for me, unlike for Steve, it was by choice. I liked to answer the door and hand out treat bags that I put together with my mom. It's still my favorite holiday.

Happy Halloween! 🎃

[firetruckfolks]

Only Buck

for @118dailydrabble | Extra Four: Malfunction | Pre-series Buck & Team

“How did he-” 

“Some sort of malfunction, Cap,” Hen replied, finishing Bobby’s question before he could even ask.

“Think he regrets saying the Q word now?” Chimney said with far too much glee, all three of them sharing a chuckle as they watched their probie continue to flounder in the suds filling up the locker room. 

Buck managed to get to his knees, wiping at the glass and wobbling like a newborn fawn as he tried not to slip again. 

“Alright,” Bobby snorted, shaking his head, “Let’s get him out before he gets a concussion.” 

“You mean another concussion,” Hen corrected, already walking towards the emergency shutoff as Chim grabbed towels.

“Only Buck,” Bobby said with a sigh.

[stilinski-ortiz-dolan]

animal kingdom│pre-series/au│halloween

[jellybracelet]

wincest wednesday Q — what's your fave john winchester headcanon? or what fic would you love to read about him that you haven't found yet.

Happy WW!

I think John was occasionally a nice drunk.

Scenario - Sam and Dean were sitting cross legged on the bed, playing Go Fish, and John came stumbling in drunk. Sammy, not knowing any better, asked John if he wanted to play too. Dean tensed, thinking their dad would turn Sam down and then he'd have to see the rejection on his little brother's face, but to his surprise, John obliged.

John admitted he didn't know how to play, and Sammy's face lit up, excitedly babbling the rules and dealing out the cards. Dean could tell his father wasn't really following the kid, but John had a smile on his face for the first time in who knows how long. He caught on to the rules quickly enough.

[i-prefer-west-side]

GIRLS' NIGHT OUT Pre-series

"Come on, Maddie," Kate whines, hooking her arm through her friend's and dragging her down the street. "You can't be ready to go home. It's still early."

Maddie groans and stumbles as she tries to keep up. "My mom's gonna kill me."

"For what, drinking with a fake ID, or being out past curfew?" Kate feels Maddie stop, and she turns to look back, follows her gaze across the street to the neon-filled shop window. She grins. "Or for that?" she teases, nudging Maddie's arm.

Maddie glances at her, a familiar mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Well..."

"Come on." Kate grabs her hand and tugs her across the street. "Let's go."

"I don't know, Becks."

Kate grins and pushes open the door. "Oh please, you've known what you want for like a year." When Maddie hesitates, she sighs and rolls her eyes. "If you do it, I will too."

Maddie rolls her eyes and steps inside. "Fine."

[rainydaysandcloudyskies]

When you’re wondering if those kids you’re guiding were protecting the seven year old or if she was babysitting them…

I have many thoughts about pre-series Thalia, Luke, and Annabeth, and their journey to camp. We don’t know a ton about what happened on that journey, but I do know that they met Grover on their way to Thalia’s Last Stand…

Headcanon that Thalia, Luke, and Annabeth are three of the reasons Grover has the consensus song memorized in the show… I hope we’ll have many more seasons incoming!

[gumnut-logic]

“Another boy?”

Jeff grinned. “Yeah. Another one.” He couldn’t help but stare at the photo that had landed on his screen as a good luck token from Earth.

He did of course, know about Lucille going into labour the night before and it was for that reason he hadn’t had the sleep he probably should have pre-history making Mars landing. But honestly, to get this signal from that little blue planet a good eight months away…his heart swelled…his beautiful baby boy had a shock of red hair that screamed their Irish ancestry down through the hundreds of years since their family had left the old world.

Lucille sat holding him, looking tired but ever so proud. Her dark hair was tied back and the sparkle in her eyes brought a lump into his throat. Her mother, pink hair and all, sat beside his wife holding his two eldest boys on her lap. Scott had his hand on Virgil’s arm as the now second youngest reached over towards his baby brother, a frown of concentration on his face.

“He’s beautiful.”

Jeff startled a little. Berry was breaking regs and leaning over the back of Jeff’s pilot couch, her straps unfastened. The cockpit was pretty snug in the lander, most of the room taken up with safety equipment and interfaces, leaving little for the padded personnel support.

He shot an eyebrow in her direction and she smiled a dare back at him. The astrogeologist wasn’t one for breaking the rules, she just liked to taunt him a little.

Ju, in contrast, was checking her harness was secure a second time. “Creating your own crew, Tracy?” Her auburn eyes smirked at him. “Aiming to replace us?”

He grinned. “Could be.” Dare he mention that his four-year-old eldest could already name all the controls in this cockpit? His grin widened. “But we can’t replace the first person to set foot on Mars, now can we?”

Berry snorted, a little abashed. But it was, after all, her part to play once they made touchdown. The words had been rehearsed, the order of exit decided. For very specific reasons, the first human on Mars was going to be Kate Berrenger.

Berry had worked her ass off to make this mission a reality. Her specialisation onboard was astrogeologist, but honestly it was far more. The woman was talent on legs. It was she who had designed much of the equipment they were deploying on the surface, she who had hunted and gathered the funding, she who had put in the sweat and tears to make this work. And Ju wasn’t far behind. The two of them were quite a powerhouse pair. Jeff considered himself and Lee lucky to have been chosen for this mission. Of course, he’d known Berry for a very long time, worked with her for most of it, but it wasn’t a given that the team that had helped populate the moon would also be the first on Mars.

“Given how many life support pods we’re dragging down there, I bet your boys could drop by in about thirty years or less.”

“You gonna put your money where your mouth is, Berry?” The thought was tantalising. Not to put pressure on any future careers – Lucy would kill him – but he would hope that at least one out of three might follow in his footsteps.

Maybe?

He turned around and opened his mouth, only to be interrupted. “Major Tracy, tell your team to secure. Two minutes to separation.” Sinclair was his usual grumpy, nervous self.

“Roger that, Orbiter Control.”

He glared at Berry and the redhead bit her lip with a smile, green eyes dancing, before sitting back and strapping herself in preparation for the sequence.

She didn’t stop smiling though.

“So watcha gonna name him?” Lee prodded him with his eyebrows from beside Jeff.

A last glance at the photo before he returned to separation prep, fingers tight in his gloves. “Are you going to remember this one?” An eye in the engineer’s direction.

“Sure.”

Running his fingers over the controls, Jeff ran through pre-flight. “Name my eldest.”

Lee grunted, his eyes darting away. “Not important right now.” A flick of a switch. “I’m green across the board.”

“A-ok.” Jeff ran through the last sequence of checks…and ran them again…for luck. “Orbiter Control, we are green for separation.”

“Roger that, Cornerstone. Separation in sixty seconds on my mark.” A breath. “Mark.” Another pause. “Good luck.”

And the countdown began.

Jeff ran his eyes over everything again. The great ship that had journeyed so far from home was preparing to split in half. The lander at the top of the vessel was to pull away from the orbiter and its massive propulsion engines to begin the historic descent to the Martian surface. Eight months in space, so much preparation time and so many sacrifices before that, had all led to this moment.

History in the making.

His eyes combed the readouts watching like a hawk. The computer had control, but computers could only do so much.

Still green across the board.

Quiet, his fingers touched the screen where the photo had been. “John Glenn Tracy.” A breath. “His name is John.”

Displays shifted as the countdown hit zero and machinery grunted. The Cornerstone drifted apart from its propulsion module and floated free far above the red of the Martian surface.

Jeff eyed his instrumentation and sent a prayer to his family back home.

Today was an important day.

-o-o-o-

Lee watched Jeff side-on as he clicked his helmet into place. Taylor was a realist and he knew he wouldn’t be here without the crazy pilot.

It was Jeff’s drive that had gotten them this far. It was like riding a rollercoaster of determination and outright luck. From the Airforce, through space training and their sojourns on Alfie, Lee had tied himself to the man’s coat tails and hadn’t looked back.

God, it had been fun.

Jeff Tracy was a tsunami that crashed through everything and took everyone with him.

And Lee went willingly.

When they had been chosen for this mission it was a dream come true.

The countdown dropped to zero and machinery clunked as the lander separated smoothly from the orbiter. She drifted momentarily before the computer engaged thrusters to push her gently out of orbital alignment.

“We are five by five for atmospheric entry.” The words he uttered were almost rote after so many practise simulations back on Earth.

Atmospheric entry on Mars was considerably different to entry on Earth. Terran atmosphere was more like soup in comparison to the barely-there Martian atmosphere. Still made for a warm entry though, friction was friction after all.

“Trajectory achieved.” Jeff’s voice was confident and firm. As always.

Lee eyed the computer readouts, mentally ticking off procedure as the lander dipped into the outer reaches of the atmosphere and shifted to its entry interface.

Forces wrapped themselves around Lee and his body responded. After so many months of weightlessness, this was going to be a challenge.

“Ready for deceleration burn.”

The landing module sported early entrance stage retro thrusters designed to slow the vehicle to reduce the friction on the spacecraft’s skin. A new innovation that had proven essential in many return trips to the moon in preparation for the creation of a habitable dome on the satellite.

And here they were attempting to do something similar on Mars.

Cornerstone shook as her thrusters engaged exactly on time.

The craft roared.

Lee revelled in it.

“Three minutes to subsonic.”

“I really hate this bit.” It was barely heard above the commotion.

Lee snorted to himself. Ju was an astronaut in every sense, but she had a thing regarding atmospheric entry and the microscopic bits they could be exploded into if something went wrong.

“We are on track, Ju. Not a thing to worry about.” His voice reassurance itself, Jeff could sell the moon cheese if he so felt like it.

“Orbiter to Cornerstone. Tracy, we have a problem.”

Lee blinked. Sinclair’s voice was ominous.

“Orbiter, detail?”

“Cornerstone, weather has kicked up on the landing site. We have a developing dust storm. Looks to be a big one.”

“Orbiter, we are fixed for descent. Please advise severity.” Jeff’s tone was frustrated and Lee couldn’t help but echo it.

Data landed in Lee’s console and while Jeff continued to monitor their descent, Lee examined the situation. “We have a category five dust storm developing over the landing site. Orbiter is right, she looks like she could actually do some damage.”

Mars dust storms were generally all gust and no guts. The air density and pressure forced storms that were dramatic to look at, but generally little more than a windy day on planet Earth. This one, however... “It’s an anomaly.”

Jeff’s eyes darted from his console to Lee’s, grey eyes assessing the data. “Ju, your opinion?” They had to make the decision fast. Altering their trajectory now was possible, but fuel was precious. Any extra used now narrowed their safety margin for later.

The meteorologist’s fingers darted over her board. “Unusual strength, I agree.” Lee glanced in her direction as she frowned. “But Cornerstone should be able to handle it.”

“‘Should’ is not a good enough assumption, Zhang.” Jeff was frowning. The lander’s retros cut out as they reached a safe enough velocity to manoeuvre and Jeff’s hands curled around the yoke.

Lee’s finger darted over his board and brought up the outside cameras.

The red planet stretched out before them, her slightly blue tinted atmosphere contrasting against the rust of her surface.

That surface was churning.

Ju was outraged. “How the hell did that develop in the time it took us to separate from Orbiter? She was as calm as a sleeping baby!”

“I don’t care about then, I need now. Zhang, recommendation!”

The woman grunted. “I say go. If you think you can handle it. It is well within Cornerstone’s specs. Your decision, Major.”

Jeff’s lips thinned, his eyes darting across the readouts. A moment and he hit the comms switch. “Orbiter, we are go for landing. We’ve come this far, might as well go all the way.”

“Tracy, are you sure?”

“Humanity never got anywhere taking it easy.” He glanced at Lee. “Hold onto something.”

Cornerstone began her turn, orientating her nose to the sky so her retros could lower her safely to the Martian surface.

Or in Jeff Tracy terms, ‘spinning so she could park her ass’.

As if reading Lee’s mind, the glint in Jeff’s eyes was something to both be wary of and to celebrate.

Out of the four of them, Jeff was the most reckless, the most daring. But as he was the pilot, it sometimes called for it. Jeff had already saved them from becoming just another crater on Earth’s moon by pulling the most unconventional manoeuvre ever seen on the satellite when a landing thruster misfired on approach. The craft had shot off on a completely unpredicted vector that would have ploughed them into moon dust...if Jeff hadn’t reacted as fast as he did. He flipped the craft with its remaining three thrusters and, shedding the majority of their velocity in an energy dump that had Lee’s stomach on the outside, planted their craft like a sack of potatoes.

They had landed roughly, but they had landed alive and Lee was still amazed his friend had been able to do that.

So, if they were going down in a cloud of red dust, Lee was quite happy to have Jeff at the controls.

Not to say that Lee himself wasn’t handy with a spacecraft. He had his own experience to be proud of. He flew, but his realm was more the mechanical. He was here as back up and maintenance.

For those times the Tracy fix wasn’t quite enough.

A sigh. He eyed the billowing clouds below as they rapidly approached. They were history in the making. Whatever happened here today would be taught in schools for decades to come.

He had faith in Jeff. They would land, Berry would take those first important steps on a new planet, say the rehearsed words, and join Neil Armstrong in the halls of fame.

But first they had to get there.

-o-o-o-

Jeff swallowed as the cloud of dust loomed beneath the lander. Numbers scrolled across his console. The computer should be able to handle most of it. Its programming was solid. Lucy had made sure of it.

The thought of his beautiful wife...little Johnny.

Dust swelled and wrapped around their craft and visibility became...bad.

Cornerstone shuddered.

Mars dust was a bastard of a thing. Ever so fine and carrying a tiny electric charge that on occasion interfered with instruments.

This was one of those occasions.

“We have blackout on three primary sensors.” Damn. Two others flickered, the screen fritzing a moment.

His fingers darted over controls in an attempt to compensate for the data loss.

Lee was muttering beside him and stabbing at his board. “Rerouting to back-ups.”

Their screens flickered and cleared somewhat.

Numbers plummeted.

Beyond the blinding dust the digital readout that marked the surface of the planet approached.

Far too fast.

Retros crucial to start the landing sequence did not fire.

Shit.

It took seconds for him to compensate and move to manual, but that was enough for the craft to fall many more metres so, when he did manually trigger the burn, they were lower than they should be.

Cornerstone roared as he pushed more energy into braking.

“Lee, we need primary thrust or we are so much pancake!” Her four landing thrusters were not slowing them enough. The math in his head was churning out a fatal result and their history-making attempt was fast turning into a shitfest. “I need that power now.”

“You have it.” Short and sharp as Lee’s hands darted over his console.

On Jeff’s board the main thruster icon lit up.

It wasn’t meant to be used this way. The main thruster was for launching. It was far more powerful than they needed to land. But if he didn’t slow Cornerstone, she was going to take on a big red rock and lose.

The computer ran calculations and spat numbers out at him.

“Firing main thruster.” The icon flashed, Cornerstone roared and g-forces wrapped around all of them and squeezed.

No one said anything for the second of burn that slowed their descent ever so rapidly. Everything shook, the ship’s superstructure groaning.

Jeff’s eyes tracked their velocity, counting down as the surface of the planet rushed towards them. Visually they couldn’t see it. Virtually it looked ready to slap them in the face.

But the main thruster compensated, slowing the craft just enough for the landing rockets to do their job.

Jeff killed the big one and concentrated on the landers to take the last of their speed.

Cornerstone slowed. Five hundred metres. Four hundred metres. Three hundred metres. Two hundred metres. One hundred metres. Landing struts deployed. Fifty. Thirty. Twe-

The whole ship slammed to a stop, its structure groaning and tilting for a second before righting itself. Alarms began shrieking, red lights flashing all over his board.

What the hell?!

The readout had them stalled nineteen metres ‘above’ the virtual surface. Virtual was obviously not lining up with actual.

Another metallic groan and the ship tilted slightly again. This time it stayed tilted. No doubt a landing strut had taken the brunt and folded.

One red light screamed at him more than the others.

Beside him, Lee confirmed his fears. “We have a fuel leak.”

Shit!

He was unstrapping himself even as the craft groaned again. Something sparked not far away. Lee was a split second behind, listing the reason for the malfunction. The exterior hull, and the mangled landing strut responsible.

A rupture in the external hull. Hell.

Jeff undocked a diagnostic pad and slapped it on his belt.

Martian gravity made itself known. So many months without its native pull, Jeff’s body protested the sudden movement, but they didn’t have time. Precious fuel was escaping.

He hit the ladder leading out of the cockpit at a run, feet locking around the struts and his hands pushing him down. The whole sensation of gravity, but only a third of Earth’s was baffling. His body caught between expectations and stumbling along the way. Ultimately, he partly fell his way down through the access ports, hands grabbing at the railings barely preventing him from colliding with each deck.

Cornerstone’s fuel tanks were attached to her four landers, with a fifth fueling her main launcher.

It was number three that was the problem.

His boots hit decking and he scrambled for the airlock. Beside him Lee had a toolkit and they both barrelled through the door sealing it behind them.

The pumps cycled and the pressure dropped, their suits shifting with the change, and then the elevator was lowering them to the ground.

As the doors opened, they were faced with a wall of swirling dust.

Jeff did his best to ignore it but it fast became a problem. The maintenance tab in his hand was directing him to climb ladders up the side of the vehicle, but he could barely see the tablet, much less the ladders themselves through the red dust.

“Stick close, Lee. I’d hate to lose you in this.”

“Right behind you, Jeff. Wouldna want to lose you either.”

It was simple, but reassuring nonetheless. Fumbling, he found the landing strut. It was skewed in a way that even in the thick swirling haze, he could see was far from the right angle for correct support.

Hooking a foot into the lowest rung, he snagged his friend and urged him up the ladder ahead. If anyone was going to save their asses in this situation, it was Lee.

If Jeff could land it, chances were Lee could fix it. The man could jimmy two sticks and a rubberband into whatever was needed. Hell, he’d done almost exactly that on the moon at least twice.

This was just another challenge. Jeff had landed them, no matter how roughly. Now Lee would be able to fix it.

Jeff clung to that maxim.

But the question wasn’t about skill, it was more about whether or not they were going to damn well be able to see what they needed to see in order to do what needed doing.

Red obscured everything. The speed it was all flying past spoke to his earth senses of gale force winds, but the pressure on his suit was little more than a windy day.

Not enough to affect the spacecraft.

Mars was obviously educating them early that this was not Earth. Not in any way shape or form.

Their clamber up the strut was partly a blind one, but they made it to the damaged side of the craft. Through a mixture of touch and virtual readout, it became clear that the outer hull had buckled, forcing the inner hull into the fuel tank. Most of it had held, but there was a small microfracture and the pressure differences were bubbling solid state fuel into gas at a rate that, if it didn’t deplete the tank, would likely cause an explosion that would solve all their problems with a history-making finality.

Jeff climbed up beside Lee as he fumbled at his tool kit. The tank was dislodged off its mounts, something they would need to remedy later, but it was still inset from the hull.

Jeff put his body in position to block the main flow of the dust and wind, jamming himself up against the still warm hull of his ship.

A little less dust swirled over the bubbling crack and Lee didn’t hesitate. Before Jeff could blink, gell bondtape landed smoothly over the area, the engineer sealing it with an electronic nudge from a set-wand. The electricity lined molecules up like soldiers and locked them in place bonding them to whatever the tape was adhered to. They had used the same stuff on Alfie two years ago when one of their habitats had tried to make one with the lack of lunar atmosphere.

An extremely simple solution for a very dangerous problem.

His heart, still adrenalin-fueled, refused to believe the danger was over.

As if reading Jeff’s thoughts, Lee smirked at him through the haze. “Never leave home without it.” A sigh as he ran a gloved hand over the seal. “This should hold for the short term. Once we are sure the strut is stabilised, I’ll give it a good going over. Hopefully, we can lose this storm in the process.”

Jeff would have liked to claim it couldn’t blow forever, but both of them knew Mars storms could be unpredictable and last for months if they so chose to.

Lee ran a scanner over the strut’s connection to the launcher. How the hell the engineer could see the readouts, Jeff didn’t know.

For all future excursions to the Red Planet, Jeff was going to recommend helmet based heads-up displays.

“She’s safe for now. A little bent, but she isn’t going to fall over. Hopefully, once we get out some of the heavy lifting equipment we can bend her back into shape if we need to.” Lee stood up. “Hull patching is going to be an ass, though.”

Jeff’s lips thinned and he dropped a hand onto his friend’s shoulder. “One thing at a time. We’ve got this, Lee.”

Lee grunted. “How the hell do you keep spinning the optimism, Jeff?”

A snort. “What? You’d prefer doom and gloom?” He shuffled back towards the ladder. “That’s it, Lee, we’re never leaving this god forsaken rock. Welcome to your new home.” He raised up his hands and as if the gods declared him some kind of Moses for that very moment, the dust clouds parted as if they were a red sea of sand. Sol, so much smaller this far away, poked its weak light through the hazy atmosphere and lit up the bare red rocks of their temporary home. While on one side, the billowing wall of dust storm swirled on its way, on the other red mountains rose up to a weak blue-red sky.

Lee shifted down beside him. “You know, I figured you had an agreement with the gods of physics, but isn’t this a little ridiculous?”

Jeff was too captivated with the view to respond.

Cornerstone was on the plateau they had been simulating for months on end. She stood tall and proud, if a little crooked and pinker than her promo shots.

“We made it.” The words fell from his lips.

Lee clung to the ladder beside him. “Yeah, that we did.”

Sunlight flickered weakly in the atmosphere and a gust of wind dragged more dust across the view.

Jeff shifted. “We better get inside before that mess starts up again. Take advantage of being able to see where we are going.”

Lee didn’t respond immediately, his eyes combing the jagged horizon. “Thanks, Jeff.”

A frown. “For what?”

“Getting us here.”

“It was a group effort, Lee, you know that. Couldn’t have done it without the team. Couldn’t have done it without you. Hell, you just patched a hole that could have blown us up.”

Lee grunted.

“Are you guys going to hang outside all day, or do we have to guess the sitrep?” Berry’s tone was tight.

“Roger, Berrenger. Situation secure. On our way back in.”

It wasn’t until they reached the elevator that he realised exactly what had happened.

And who he was.

By the doors, protected by the shadow of the lowered module was a single footprint that hadn’t been blown away by the wind.

“Aw, hell.”

Lee, as always, stepped up beside him. “Yeah. I guess that makes you the first man to walk on Mars.”

-o-o-o-

Ju was furious. “It was Kate’s right to be the first!”

The vacs in the airlock had sucked everything off their suits to the point Lee was surprised his hair wasn’t standing on end despite the helmet.

As it was, his hackles were somewhere near orbit as they stood in the conference room that doubled as a mess. “And what exactly do you think we were supposed to do? The ship was going to explode.” It was simple to Lee. Sure, he was all for equality, it was a given, but they would’ve been all equally dead if he and Jeff hadn’t done what they did.

“You didn’t give us a chance!”

“I’m the engineer here, Zhang. There wasn’t time! The decision was made and we are alive because of it.”

“Then why weren’t you first, Taylor? Why the hell was Tracy even out there? He’s not the engineer!”

Beside Lee, Jeff straightened. “Standard procedure, Zhang. We work in pairs. If you think I was going to let Lee go out in that on his own, you’ve been serving while wearing a blindfold.”

The short, dark-haired woman stepped up to the Major, her eyes fiery. “It was Kate’s place in history and you stole it!”

Lee flared. “We did what was necessary! This was not a publicity grab, for Christ’s sake! It didn’t even occur to us until we were returning. It was about saving our lives, Zhang. How can you possibly think it was anything else?”

“Because it always is.” She waved a hand at Jeff. “Always the hotshot. Always the first. Always the hero. Do you ever think, Tracy? Do you ever think about those you barrel past?”

Jeff glared down at the meteorologist. “I will not apologise for my achievements, Zhang. This was an honest to god accident.”

“Due to decisions made by you.”

“What the hell, Zhang?!” Lee pushed forward. That was taking it too far.

“We should never have tried to land in that dust storm. We should have waited it out.”

“You said we could take it!”

“But it wasn’t my decision, was it?” Her tone was a positive hiss at Jeff.

“Screw you, Zhang-“

“Taylor!”

“Jeff-“

The man was still the damn tall walking wall when he wanted to be. “Lee, stop.” He glared at Ju. “I will not apologise for my command decisions either, Zhang. What was done, is done.” His stance softened as he turned to Berry.

She had been ominously quiet the entire time.

Jeff sighed. “I’m sorry, Kate.”

The red-haired astrogeologist straightened away from the bulkhead, her arms still folded across her chest. Lee had always liked Berry. She had her head on much straighter than Ju ever did.

Ju was like a terrier with a bone.

The bone variety today was definitely Jeff-flavoured.

But there was only kindness in Berry’s eyes as she looked up at the Major. “This sucks, Jeff, it really does.” She looked down a moment. “But it is what it is and I guess it was what it was meant to be.” A shrug. “I suppose I’ll have to settle for third on Mars. Still pretty momentous, I think.”

“Kate, it doesn’t have to be that way.” Jeff took a step towards her. “It’s not official. It was a stupid repair. We can do the ceremonial step onto the planet anyway. No one has to know.”

Her head tilted to one side. “So, the ship miraculously healed itself?”

“Berry-“

She closed the gap between them, placing a hand on his arm. “Jeff, honestly, it’s not what is important here. You took the first step. We still have plenty of others that need to be taken. My ego can keep.”

Zhang flared again. “Kate, this was for women-“

“Ju, enough. It doesn’t matter! Humans have just landed on Mars, for god’s sake. I would have thought we would be a little less worried about the gender of the person taking the first step and more worried about the fact we did it without blowing up.”

“It was supposed to be you.” Ju wilted in defeat under Berry’s glare.

“Well, it was Jeff, and I think he is no less deserving than any of us.”

Jeff’s voice was quiet. “Are you sure, Kate?” The use of her first name was a rarity for the major, there was a friendship between those two almost as long as the one between Jeff and Lee. Hell, if Jeff hadn’t met Lee’s sister, Lucy, the engineer wondered what might have eventuated in that department.

Not that he had ever had to worry about that. Jeff was a complete sop for Lucy. His sis had the man wrapped around her little finger.

If that made Lee feel just that touch more protective of the crazy pilot, then so be it.

Kate straightened, her shoulders strong. “I’m sure.” Then her lips curled up a little. “Besides, my lines were so much more elegant than ‘Stick close, Lee. I’d hate to lose you in this.’”

Jeff snorted and shrugged. “If I’m going to make history gotta make sure my best friend is with me.”

Zhang made a disgusted sound and stormed out of the room.

Shoulders dropping, Jeff sighed. “Guess I need to work on my phrasing.”

But Lee was too wrapped in the moment, a little too proud and grateful to care. “She’ll live.”

The grunt from Jeff reminded Lee that they still had months to share living quarters with the fiery Ju.

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her.” Berry squeezed Jeff’s arm before reaching out to Lee as well. “Thank you, both of you, for getting us down safely. We’re on Mars, guys. Let the party begin.”

The smile in her eyes was honest and ever so heartening.

-o-o-o-

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

In Good Hands

Dean is eighteen and bleeding out on the carpet of a seedy motel room when it happens. He’s going to blame it on his malfunctioning brain later on, on the concussion that accompanies the through-and-through in his thigh. On the drugs that will be coursing through his system when he comes to, many hours later, in a hospital bed, miraculously alive. But right here, right now, left for dead, with unconsciousness licking at his vision, it’s a remarkable moment, even with everything weird he’s already seen in his life.

Dean has no illusions about the severity of his injuries. If his father or even Sam were here, he’d stand a chance. But they’re on a food run and oblivious to the attack on Dean or the fact that his femoral artery has been severed and is pumping his life juice onto the smelly brown carpet.

He’s tried to use his belt as a tourniquet, and in spite of the blow to his head and the room spinning around him like crazy, he’s managed to get the belt around his thigh, but he’s too weak to pull it tight enough and keep it that way. Hell, he can barely see what he’s doing, and his fingers are slick with his own blood.

Dean’s phone is on the floor, screen smashed and as dead as he will be soon.

His heartbeat spikes in a brief burst of panic.

No chick flick moments.

The fear in his chest begins to flicker. It fades in and out, along with the room. He’s tired. So, so tired. The pain in his leg lessens. His hands are tingling. His eyes are slipping closed.

I’m sorry, Sammy. I’m sorry, Dad.

Dean hears his heart thrum in his ears. Hears it flutter. No– there’s an actual flutter. He feels a gust of air. What…?

Dean forces his eyes back open. The room is bright. Too bright for Dean or his oxygen-starved brain to understand what he’s seeing: a shape, a being, haloed by light. Curved black shadows spread out behind it. Are those…?

Dean cannot finish the thought. It unravels, dissolves. Dean’s eyes close.

Something touches him on the shoulder. He senses heat. Brightness penetrates his eyelids. Warmth floods him. A feeling of safety. Of being caught and held.

The pain goes away.

Blackness comes.

XXX

“We found you just in time,” John Winchester tells his son the day after, sternly, as if the attack had somehow been Dean’s fault. “The doctor says it’s a miracle that you’re not dead. If you hadn’t tied that tourniquet…”

His father breaks off, and Dean, drowsy from the meds, doesn’t realize that his dad is fighting tears. Or that Sammy is standing by the side of his bed, lanky, timid and big-eyed.

Floating on morphine, Dean tries to hold on to the memory from last night, to the light, the presence, the touch, but it gets lost, erases itself to a flutter, a whisper…

“Some angel must’ve been watching over you,” he hears his father say as he slips back into sleep.

A/N: I am obsessed with the idea that Castiel had been assigned to watch over Dean long before he rescued him from hell.

[fluff-writing]

Legends of the Necromancer: Rathma came in the mail today :D

Initial thoughts (and Spoilers);

Linarian is a total sweetheart, and kinda dumb. Or just really naive. Bro really tried to resurrect his Best Friend in a Spooky Cave where they used to mess around with the Powers of Life and Death, left her there when it didn't work, and was surprised when that went awry a few years down the line. They also draw him really doe-eyed every time there's a closeup of his face. Cutie. It's an interesting contrast from the whole No-Emotion-Super-Serious Rathma we're familiar with.

Lilith's massacre really was brutal. The drawings of her fuck severely.

There's a Citadel! Where all the angels & demons & their kids lived together on Sanctuary. Mayhaps a location we'll visit down the line? Or perhaps that was what became the Cradle/Kasama in D4.

Apparently Linarian has always had visions of the future, and its pretty much always been a shit-show.

Kessime (Linarian's wife) is sweet. Don't really see much of her before she gets offed, but what we do see is very domestic. She and Linarian love and care each other. (I think they might bone in this book. Good for them!)

It's a little weird how much long-violent-tongue their is in this book. Once is fun but twice is brow-raising. (It is not a long book. 40 pages maybe. There did not need to be two instances of tongue-violence.)

They also took Linarian's shirt off twice. Nice.

Linarian being a farmer is cute but. I dunno. We already got that from Uldyssian and Mendeln, he coulda been a baker or something else fun and quaint. The least they coulda done was show him reaping wheat with a proper sickle, but nah.

At least we know Rathma knows his way around a shovel.

They mention but don't show kids + grandkids. Bummer.

The action scenes were interesting, and I enjoyed that when he's mowing the undead down he gives everyone a choice to either depart or come with him for sweet revenge. Commander of the Dead indeed.

We start to see Rathma's set armor from D3, a fun little nod there. Linarian seems to be able to conjure it from the aether. Or maybe he's borrowing it from the dead bodies around him? I dunno, either way it seems really convenient.

I like that Indira is more or less what we'd get if Rathma used his powers for evil and stuff. They are nice enough foils for each other, and I'd like to see more of her.

...This book is basically Linarian kinda fucking up and losing all the women in his life (Lilith, Indira, Kessime), which is a little. Hm. Don't love that, don't hate it.

We only get a little bit of Trag, but what we do get is very pretty.

There is. No Inarius in this book. Not that there needs to be, but personally I think that's a missed opportunity. Rathma was murdered by his father, they coulda added something between them here.

[akariarda]

Bitter scars

Garmadon shows his scars to Misako. Some of them are related to bitter memories that Garmadon blames himself for. Attempting to write Garmadon angst. I hope it's good!

"There is something I have always wanted to ask you," Misako said as she sat next to Garmadon, who raised an eyebrow curiously.

"How did you get this scar?" She pointed to the faded white line that stretched from the bottom of his upper arm to halfway down his forearm.

"Oh, that," Garmadon replied in a quiet voice. "It's a scar from my childhood. I got it..." He paused for a moment to gather himself.

"You don't have to tell me if it's difficult for you," Misako gently touched his shoulder.

"I think it will be better if I share it with someone," Garmadon replied as he took a deep breath to begin his story. "It happened when I was just a few years old. Father took Wu and me to the park to play. I wanted to climb the slide."

~Flashback starts:~

"Look, Father!" young Garmadon exclaimed, pointing at slide. "I want to climb to the top."

"Don't, son," the First Spinjitzu Master said worriedly. "It's high. You could get hurt."

"But I have to climb," Garmadon shouted again and started climbing.

"I made it, Father, I did it!" Garmadon exclaimed when he reached the top, feeling satisfied and starry-eyed.

"Garmadon, please come down," his father pleaded.

"Argh!" Garmadon grumbled irritably, but he still listened to his father and started descending.

"Father, look what I can do!" Garmadon exclaimed once again and continued jumping down the stairs despite his father's concerned calls.

"Aaaa!" he yelled and burst into tears when he fell to the ground, accidentally scratching himself on something sharp along the way.

"You should have listened to me," the First Spinjitzu Master said worriedly, taking the tearful Garmadon in his arms.

"You'll be fine, son, you'll be fine," he repeated while tightly clutching the hand that was bleeding. 

~Flashback ends~

"It's all my fault," Garmadon said when he finished recounting the story. "I should have listened to my father."

"You should have," Misako gently replied, rubbing his back. "But don't blame yourself so much. After all, you were just a mischievous child."

"It's not about that. Look," Garmadon said, pointing to the white scar that ran from his shoulder to his stomach. "I also got this because I didn't want to listen to my father."

~Flashback starts:~

"Garmadon, be careful with that." The First Spinjitzu Master said to Garmadon, handing him the katana.

"This is a new trick, which is very difficult to perform. You can get hurt."

"Ha," Garmadon scoffed, looking like he was in his teens. "Don't worry."

"Be cautious, don't go so fast!" The First Spinjitzu Master shouted, while their eldest son ignored him.

"You're being silly." Garmadon retorted. "I can, AAA!" He yelled as he cut himself.

"You got hurt." The First Spinjitzu Master shouted and moved towards his son. "Let me help you."

"No." Young Garmadon shouted, moving away.

"I can do it myself." He grabbed his chest, feeling the blood trickle down.

"I'm f-fine."

Suddenly, he started shaking, but he didn't want his father to touch him.

"I-I'll do it alone. I don't need you! I don't need you!"

 ~Flasback ends~

"How did you wrap that?" Misako exclaimed in surprise, looking at her husband as if she was seeing him for the first time.

"That must have been a nasty wound if you now have such a big scar."

"I didn't wrap it," Garmadon began but paused to sigh. "I passed out within two seconds. My father picked me up and took care of me. I never even said sorry to him."

"You were upset," Misako told him, sitting down again. "But you should have at least told him that. It wasn't his fault. But I'm sure he understands."

"I don't exactly." Garmadon said curtly. "Out of everyone, you're the only person I've met who understands me."

"Don't say that," Misako told him. "And what about your friends?"

"This happened when I was with them in the Serpentine War." He pointed to a relatively fresh scar that ran across his leg.

~Flashback starts:~

"Just a little further," Ray said as they moved forward. "The Serpentine camp is close."

Ray, Maya, Wu, and Garmadon walked forward in silence. Suddenly, something slithered across the floor.

"Watch out!" Maya exclaimed, assuming a fighting stance.

"It's a Serpentine!" Wu said. "It's trying to attack us."

"Go towards the camp, I'll take care of this!" Garmadon bravely said, gesturing to his friends to leave.

"Are you sure, brother?" Wu asked him.

"It's just one Serpentine. You'll have to face many more. Go!"

Garmadon took a defensive position and attacked the Serpentine with his katana.

It eluded him for some time, but he managed to strike it on the head. It retreated, but not before slashing Garmadon's leg.

"AGG!" he shouted, quickly grabbing his calf. He felt warm blood trickling down his leg and could only hope the wound wasn't deep.

Every sense in his body screamed, and he could only fight to hold back tears. He wouldn't cry; the wound wasn't that deep.

"Garmadon!" Ray exclaimed in surprise when he saw his friend. The three of them headed towards him.

"Are you okay?" Maya asked him. "Let us help you."

"Please, go," Garmadon groaned.

"We can't leave you, brother," Wu insisted.

"Please." Garmadon weakly said, causing the three of them to step back.

"If you're not at the camp in two minutes, we're coming for you." Wu told him as they walked away.

~Flashback ends:~

"Ray asked me why I was angry. They never understood that I wasn't actually angry, just irritated because I got hurt. "Garmadon finished,

"I do love my friends, I just always push people away."

"You didn't push them away like you didn't push away your father," gently said Misako.

"But I did push them away with my behavior."

"There's no point in dwelling on the past now," Misako said, not knowing exactly how to comfort him.

"You're right. How did we even get on this topic?"

"I asked you how you got that scar from the slide," Misako replied.

"Ah, that," Garmadon remembered. "I have more scars, they're just not as bad as these three."

"Now I'm curious," Misako said, looking at him. Garmadon thought that her curiosity knew no bounds and smiled to himself.

"Do you want me to tell you?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"If it won't upset you like those stories before," Misako agreed, still looking at him with worried eyes.

"Alright then," Garmadon began. "I got this one on my finger from cutting myself with a knife. This one on my ear is from falling down the stairs."

"Ouch, that sounds bad," Misako said.

"Yeah, and it seems that's it, at least for now," Garmadon replied and smiled. Misako didn't share that laughter with him.

"Don't speak like that."

"I won't," he said and kissed her forehead.

"And remember, there's no point in dwelling on the past. It's important to focus on the present. If you ever need someone to talk to, you know I'm here."

"I know," Garmadon cheerfully said, happy that he could at least share the burden with someone.

"I promise I'll keep that in mind," she looked at him as if verifying the truth of his words.

He held her chin and pressed it into a kiss, not wanting the feeling of regret to return.

He knew that Misako helped him a lot, but he also knew that the feeling would come back sooner or later.

It warmed his heart to know that it would be at least a little easier.

Tell me what you think. I HOPE you have more requests, because I'm seriously running out of them🙃

I also started watching ninjago after the seventh season! I'm currently on Marc of the Oni. So now I'll be able to write much better about some of the things that happened to me, so feel free to re-request if you think it can be fixed.

[lady-wallace]

Whumptober Day 11: Seeing Double

Some pre-series Vampire Hunter AU for today's @whumptober prompt

Prompt: Seeing double, (alt. survivor's guilt) Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 5 (Vampire Hunter AU) Character: Abbacchio

~~~~~~

Read on Ao3

~~~~~~

Men of Worth

Vampire Hunter AU – Abbacchio is having a hard time forgetting his past, but Bucciarati is ready to help him move toward the future.

~~~~~~~

It was the kind of late that could technically be called early. Not that this was an odd time for a Hunter to be out, but Bucciarati wasn’t on a hunt that night.

At least not the usual kind.

He’d gotten back from a meeting with Polpo only for Fugo to tell him that their new recruit, Leone Abbacchio had run off again.

It had, regrettably, become a bit of a reoccurring thing. Bruno knew he was still drinking despite his orders against it, but Abbacchio usually managed to stagger back to the mansion sometime before dawn and sleep enough to be mostly coherent when he needed him again.

He had been worried about their new recruit over the last couple of days though. He had looked like he was getting less and less sleep and his disappearances had only been increasing.

When Bruno had caught him coming back to the mansion the morning prior, he had made it clear that he didn’t want Abbacchio doing that again. Despite the guilt on his face, Bruno was sure that order would be disobeyed, and therefore, he was going to go after him this time and actually confront the man about what was going on.

He headed to the only public house on the street that was open all night long, “Hunter’s Rest”, and stepped inside.

The bartender nodded to him, but Bruno wasn’t here for a drink.

He was here for the man who sat slumped at the shadowed table in the back corner.

He strode directly over and sat, taking his hat off and setting it on the table. “Evening, Abbacchio.”

The other man didn’t even look up at him, one hand held limply around the neck of a bottle, every line in his body sullen and exhausted.

“I thought we talked about you drinking.”

“We did,” Abbacchio replied gruffly, and as if in defiance, pulled the bottle up to his lips for another long drink.

Bruno pressed his lips together, trying to think of the best way to approach this. “This is becoming more and more frequent. I’m worried you’re falling back into bad habits.”

Abbacchio sighed and finally released the bottle, slumping back against the wall, his exhausted body finding support in the corner. “Maybe your problem was having too much faith in me to begin with.”

“I think we can both agree that I’m not the one with the problem here,” Bucciarati said firmly. “I need to trust the members of my team to be somewhere when I need them and at full capacity for whatever we will inevitably face. If you continue to go on missions hung over, you are not only putting yourself at risk, but your comrades too, as well as citizens that could potentially be caught in the crossfire.”

“I understand,” Abbacchio snapped at him. “You know I do. Why do you think I’m reluctant to go on hunts?”

“I didn’t hire you as a clerk, Abbacchio,” Bruno snapped. “I hired you because despite the unfortunate end of your prior job, your employers all said that you were an exemplary officer and—”

“And what?” Abbacchio cut in, slamming a fist down on the table. “It was an accident? I did all I could? I handled the situation appropriately? They didn’t have to tell his mother and his fiancé, they didn’t have to take the iron rod and—” he trailed off, teeth bared as he looked away, reaching for the bottle again. “I made a mistake accepting your job offer. I don’t think I can work in this kind of environment. It’s…perhaps a little too soon.”

Bruno stared at him for a long moment, trying to figure out how best to go about this. “Would you not feel better making sure those kinds of things don’t happen to anyone else?”

Abbacchio snorted. “Enough of the idealistic bullshit. The world isn’t kind to good people. It’s just the rotten ones who get left behind.”

“Is that what you think of yourself then?” Bucciarati asked, genuinely surprised.

Abbacchio cast him a baleful look and took another drink. “You don’t?”

“No,” Bruno replied. “Let me try putting it into perspective for you another way: Hunters operate under true justice. Nothing we do is black or white. We are here as the mediators between the human and supernatural communities. We are unprejudiced to the workings of natural society. How would you feel, Abbacchio, if you had let your partner live and he had gone on to kill others? If you had done that then you truly would have been a coward, and he would never have forgiven you on top of that—or himself if he had been the one to kill you. What you are is a man who made the right choice and suffers for it because you have a conscious. It’s not something to be ashamed of, Leone. Compassion is as much a part of this job as killing. And even when we are forced to kill, that doesn’t mean we still cannot have compassion for the victim.” He cocked his head to one side. “It’s not having fangs or drinking blood that separates humans from the supernatural—humanity is a choice that we all have to make.”

Abbacchio stared at him, eyes blinking to focus before he looked away, silent.

Bruno leaned over the table. “So tell me, Leone—are you drinking because of the guilt, or to avoid the inevitable decision you’ll have to make to move on?”

Leone shut his eyes. “It’s the only way I can sleep,” he admitted and his voice was so exhausted that it pulled at Bruno’s sympathy.

He hadn’t been expecting such a direct answer. “You can only sleep by drinking yourself into a stupor then, is what you’re saying.”

Abbacchio rubbed his eyes, smearing some of the kohl he wore, darkening the circles under his eyes. He looked up, his expression now haunted. “I…I see him, Bucciarati. I think my partner comes to haunt me at night.”

Bruno watched him carefully. There was a sincerity in Abbacchio’s voice that led the Hunter to think he actually believed that to be true.

“Abbacchio…vampires don’t become ghosts,” he said simply.

Abbacchio huffed a wry laugh. “So you’re saying I’m going mad, then?”

“No.” Bruno shook his head and took a deep breath. “I…I also saw my father for a while after I lost him. I don’t think it’s an uncommon thing. Maybe in part there is something in them that lingers by us. Or something in our minds that keeps them there. But I promise you that if you are truly haunted, Prosciutto will be able to offer a better exorcism than a bottle of cheap wine.”

Abbacchio watched him for a long moment, but made no move to pick up the bottle again, and Bruno counted that as progress.

“This doesn’t have to be a lonely job, Leone,” he said, folding his arms on the table. “We build teams for a reason. I don’t want to see you distancing yourself because you feel unworthy of the position. This is a firm reminder that I do not see you as unworthy—I never would have recruited you otherwise.”

Abbacchio had the grace to look chastened. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Bruno gave a small smile. “None taken, as long as you put in an effort.”

He stood, taking the bottle and putting the cork back into it. “I would suggest finding a better cure for sleeping. Fugo prefers chamomile tea, while I tend to prefer sparring in the gym. With my odd hours, I’m sure you could find me if you’re ever interested in trying it out.”

Abbacchio looked grateful. He tried to push himself up, swaying slightly. Bruno reached out to take his elbow and steady him.

“If you’re able to get enough sleep, there’s a job I want you and Fugo to look into tomorrow afternoon—or rather this afternoon, I should say.”

Abbacchio nodded. “I’ll be there.”

The two made their way back to the mansion at a sedate pace, the cool night air straightening Abbacchio’s steps as they went.

Bruno saw him to his room back at the mansion and went to make him a cup of tea.

By the time he got back, he was satisfied to see that his new recruit was passed out on the bed, seeming to be sleeping deeply.

Bruno kindly removed his boots and settled a blanket over him before setting the tea on the bedside table.

He had every faith that Leone Abbacchio would become an incredibly adept Hunter and an invaluable part of the team.

[anandabrat]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Under The Bridge (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Underage Relationships: Cam/Rebecca, Cam Bentland/Rebecca Godfrey Characters: Cam Bentland, Rebecca Godfrey Additional Tags: 1980s, Period-Typical Homophobia, First Time, i'm not sure it's possible to write these two a happy ending Summary:

Cam takes two trips to Vancouver. One when she's a junior, and once again a year later...

Takes place pre-series.

Okay I am positive this will be canon compliant for exactly a day, but maybe we can all enjoy imagining this is what went down for that day, yeah?

[firetruckfolks]

Who's Watching Over Us

for @118dailydrabble Day Seven: Spirit | Buck & Maddie, pre-series, Baby Buck

Maddie was going to kill the babysitter. 

“Evan, for the thousandth time, ghosts are not real.” She said, trying to stay patient, but unable to hide her irritation. 

After all, it wasn’t her brother’s fault he was scared. The babysitter was the one who thought Amityville Horror was appropriate to put on for a six year old. Maddie was the one who went out for the night, instead of being home where she belonged. 

“Sorry,” Evan whispered, curling up even tighter around his teddy bear. He looked utterly miserable, and Maddie’s heart ached. 

“Scootch over.” Maddie sighed, clambering into bed and holding her brother tight, “I’ll stay here tonight and protect you from any spirits wandering around, okay?”

[samanddean76]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester Additional Tags: Pre-Series Dean Winchester, Pre-Series Sam Winchester, Pre-Series John Winchester, Kinktober Prompt: Cuddling, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Cuddling, Cuddling, Dean Being The Very Best Brother To His Sammy, Cuddling - Winchester Style, Protective Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester Series: Part 17 of SPN Kinktober 2023 Summary:

Dean needs to hold Sam close. But this isn't cuddling, or snuggling, or some chick-flick moment worth of tender emotion. No, this is Winchester style. The way it should be.

@spnkinkevents  SPN Kinktober 2023

[unicornondeck]

@tatteredxsails (Ed)

After a swift pause, Izzy rejoined him on deck as they docked the ship at the Republic of Pirates. He allowed his arms to flow down to his sides as they watched some of the crew exit the ship, gaze turning back to Edward. "You going down to Spanish Jackie's? Fucking hate going down there but at least the drinks are good."

[i-prefer-west-side]

https://www.tumblr.com/sweetest-miracle/707737804178882560?source=share fic prompt

(pic: a man standing next to a bed, fully clothed but his pants unzipped and opened, and a bare foot caressing his...ahem...groin area 👀) INSTANT CONNECTION (rated M) https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14325576/1/Instant-Connection