#but also very serious. ambulance live for the first time ever is serious business

[acasternaut]

DO NOT EVEN JOKE ABOUT AMBULANCE POSSIBLY HAVING BEEN ON A SETLIST THAT IS EXTREMELY SERIOUS BUSINESS TO ME

[writesowhatnext]

it’s so mysterious to me // george weasley

Summary: life’s a little different when your girlfriend can see the future, isn’t it george?

Request: hi! can i request seer!reader x fred/george? where she sees their futures (weasley's wizard wheezes, yule ball and knows hermione will end up with ron *wink*) but doesn't tell them anything bc changing the future is complicates? but always hints at significant points of their lives. sorry if this is very long 😭

A/N: I cut out part of the request that’s a spoiler :) also it took me like 20 minutes to spell entrepreneurial

Reader: female, seer

Warnings: accidents, death, injury, guilt, parental death, battle of hogwarts

Not knowing the future is hard. Knowing the future? Harder. You hadn’t been alive nearly long enough before you learnt that lesson. The most difficult thing about being a Seer, you see, was not actually seeing the future, but fighting the urge to change it; something you’d learnt the hard way.

When you were about eight years, four months and thirteen days old, you had a vision of your mum falling down the stairs on a Remembrall and like any good daughter, you moved it from the landing and into a box on a high shelf in your Father’s study. You’d felt good the whole day, proud even, to have helped your mother. That happiness didn’t last long, though.

When your Mother’s loud shrieking echoed through the house, and she screamed at you to call an ambulance, that something had hit your Father in the head, you realised that maybe some things couldn’t be changed. The day your dad died you got the world’s biggest reality check; the future, whilst it was yours to see, was not yours to play with. It was a cruel mistress and as you grew up, you realised more and more how complicated it could truly be.

Sometimes, you got a feel for a person; an essence of what they would become somewhere down the line. Mostly, it was just silly things. When you first met Ron, the only thing you saw was him snogging Hermione; a bunch of strange teeth cluttered at their feet. An odd one, it must be said, but you thought it was sweet nonetheless. The first time you met George, though, was like nothing you’d ever felt before.

There you sat, only eleven years old on a magical train to a faraway place where you knew nobody, not exactly filled with confidence. You’d be hard-pressed to say it helped when two young boys with red hair and the same face barrelled into your otherwise empty compartment. They slammed the door shut behind them and ducked to avoid the window, sniggering to each other, obviously unaware of your presence.

You frowned as a few older students raced past, one with red hair looking at you sharply before disappearing down the corridor, leaving you alone with the twins before you. They still hadn’t noticed you and so, with a glance out the window at the country landscape, you cleared your throat.

“Oi, George,” one said, pointing at you and nudging his brother. You offered them a weak smile as they stared at you before one shot out his hand in greeting. He was smiling, rather mischievously, and was still crouching on the floor to avoid anyone spotting him.

“The name’s George,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

And when you took his hand, his palm against yours, you saw a whole life ahead of you. Laughter, dancing, countless nights running away with adrenaline-filled grins. He looked more what your Mum would call handsome the older he got, you thought. It seemed like you’d kiss him a fair few times as well, a fact that didn’t thrill you given the fact that boys had cooties, and all.

You stared at him as you pulled your hand away, looking into his expectant brown eyes with a fair amount on trepidation before a smile lifted your cheeks.

“Y/N,” you said softly. “I think we could be good friends.”

After the train, you, George and Fred, as you learnt the other twin’s name was, became fast friends. It was hard, undoubtedly, to be normal around George sometimes; the more time you spent with him, the faster you realised that he was the love of your life and the worse it became to not do anything about it. Somehow, though, life seemed to do it for you and you spent your nights exactly how you’d imagined: racing down corridors away from the scene of the crime with breathless laughter on your lips and George’s hand in your own. By third year, the kissing had started and Fred, despite being rather fond of you, was not a fan. He groaned like a child constantly, but you could see that he was secretly pleased for his brother deep down.

On one cold night in October, you and George were sat in the windowsill of the Gryffindor common room watching the sky dance with stars.

“Hey, George,” you said quietly, your voice wavering slightly as you leant your head back into his chest and his arm circled around your waist.

“Hey, Y/N,” he replied, teasing.

“Do you know what a Seer is?”

“Don’t know about a seer, love, but I know you’re quite the looker.”

You could hear the grin in his voice as you rolled your eyes, pushing your elbow lightly into his ribs.

“I’m serious, Georgie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, running his hand up and down your arm, placing a kiss into your hair. “Like in Divination, the world’s greatest and most riveting subject.”

You scoffed at his sarcastic tone, pursing your lips.

“I’m a seer.”

The air was still for a moment. His silence gave you enough time to thoroughly regret your decision to tell him, not quite sure what would happen. Gently, he turned you to the side so he could see your face and for a moment, you were struck by the softness of his eyes.

“Are you telling me you can see the future?”

You paused for a second, debating whether it was a good idea to just lie to him. Against your better judgement, you nodded, swallowing.

“You’re having me on,” he shook his head, smiling until he noticed your serious expression. “You can really see the future? Like who wins a Quidditch match or whether someone is gonna fail a test or-“

You nodded and his jaw dropped open, his mouth wide.

“It’s complicated,” you began, sighing slightly. “I can’t just… I can’t just change things. And some things make no sense until they’re happening and-“

“How do you manage to always be the coolest person I know?”

Your mouth grew dry at his words, a small smile playing on your lips as he stared at you, his hand lifting to push your hair away from your face.

“It’s a talent,” you said brightly, settling back into his chest, enjoying the way it vibrated at your joke.

“Have you ever changed anything?”

His face hardened at your shaky inhale and he opened his mouth to take back his question when you answered it anyway.

“A couple times,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his. You let the thought of your Dad weigh on you for a second before you huffed.

“I was supposed to fall for Fred, actually,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood. “I thought ‘Nah’, though.”

“You’re kidding,” George said, his arm tightening around your waist and his voice slightly hesitant as if he wasn’t exactly sure.

“Perhaps.”

You hadn’t meant to tell Fred at all, especially not hours before the Quidditch World Cup, but you and George had been joking and then one thing lead to another and now you were sat down on George’s bed with the twins looming over you like parents scolding a child.

“No,” you said.

“Why not?” Fred huffed, throwing his arms in the air, not at all understanding why you wouldn’t tell him who would win the match.

“No, Fred.”

“But, why not?” he whined, pouting with his hands on his hips. You stood up, rolling your eyes at his childishness.

“Because the future is dangerous and changing it is complicated and if I tell you something, it’ll change the whole future and-“

Out the corner of your eyes, you saw George mouthing along to your words, earning a scowl at his memorisation of your well-practised speech. He tilted his head at being caught, pulling you into his side. You shot him an irritated look only to have him wipe it from your face with a kiss.

“Disgusting,” Fred huffed, moving towards the door. “You pair make me sick, as does your lack of team spirit, Y/N.”

You did break your own rules sometimes, though. Only for special causes, you told yourself. You couldn’t help but think of what you’d seen about Ron and Hermione as they side-stepped around each other the closer it got to the Yule Ball. So, as you sat there in the common room, your shoulder against George’s chest as he picked at your sleeve distractedly, you listened to Harry and Ron complain about not having dates.

“You could always take Hermione,” you suggested, trying very hard to keep your voice indifferent.

“Gross,” Ron huffed, crossing his arms. “I’m not that desperate.”

You rolled your eyes, exhaling from your nose as they returned to their pity party. A finger poked at your side and you looked at George with a frown.

His eyes were suspicious as he smirked at you.

“You know, you get this look in your eye sometimes,” he said quietly so nobody else would hear. “When you know something everyone else doesn’t.”

You pursed your lips, not willing to give yourself away anymore. You turned away from him, stiffening when his hot breath fanned your ear.

“I’m on to you, love,” he whispered, sending a shiver up your back.

You tried to keep certain things on the down-low around George after that; subtlety, as ever, was the name of the game. You gave up trying to push Ron and Hermione together after a while, knowing that your meddling would only make it worse. What you didn’t give up on, though, was Fred and George. You didn’t have to be a seer to know that they would go far with their business; they were smart wizards and despite the headache they often caused Professor McGonagall, you couldn’t fault their entrepreneurial spirit. And though you expected it when they came to you in seventh year talking about leaving Hogwarts, given the fact that you’d tried to discretely push them towards the idea, you were sad to see the back of your two favourite boys.

“You should go out in a blaze of glory,” you said, staring at the floor to not give yourself away. “Fireworks and stuff.”

You’d been seeing bursts of colour for weeks at the thought of it.

“Y/N, that might be the most brilliant idea I have ever heard,” Fred said, shooting you a grin.

“Isn’t it just?” George agreed though he was staring at you with a very knowing look.

He could tell how much the war took its toll on you. He had no idea what it was you were seeing, but his heart ached at how much you were suffering because of it. It was obvious that the guilt of not being able to help was eating you alive and it wasn’t until the night after the Battle of the Astronomy Tower that you truly broke down. When you arrived at his apartment, Fred asleep in the room next door, his heart shattered at the sight of you shivering from the rain and crying so horribly that he thought you would pass out right there.

“George,” you said, gripping on to him like you’d never see him again. “I knew about Bill. I knew he was going to get attacked and I knew the pain he was-“

He shushed you gently, his hand stroking the back of your head.

“I knew, George,” you repeated over and over, your body wracking with sobs.

He thought about his older brother in the hospital and his hold on you tightened.

He didn’t need to see the future to know when the crescendo of the war was coming. It seemed as everything was leading up to this final stand at Hogwarts and though he was scared, it was nothing compared to how worried he was for you. After he lost his ear, you grew more and more unhinged. You never talked to him about it and he knew why, he understood that changing the future would have seriously unpredictable repercussions and he knew that you were haunted by every injury, every death that you didn’t prevent. The most he could do for you was be there and he spent most nights next to you just holding you close as you cried yourself to sleep. He thought they were the worst nights of his life at the time.

“George,” you whispered into the night, too afraid of the morning to look outside and see the sunrise.

“Yes, love?”

His arm pulled you closer and you were grateful for his warmth.

“You know I love you, right?”

A lump formed in George’s throat.

“Of course, I do,” he whispered reluctantly, not ready to hear your answer. “Why?”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow.”

He turned to face you, your eyes shining with tears in the moonlight. He could tell you were lying; he recognised your knowing look.

“I love you too. More than anything else in the entire universe,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead and breathing in your scent. His stomach turned at the memory of the look in your eyes and for the rest of the night, he lay awake, staring at the pattern on the ceiling.

When you reached Hogwarts that next day, everybody was running. Younger students were being ushered to the basements and the elder kids were rushing around with their wands out and enchanted statues were marching out to defend the castle and amidst the chaos, your heart was like lead as you thought about what was to come. George’s hand was heavy in yours and your lie was heavy on your shoulders. You wondered if he’d ever forgive you, either way.

You’d never felt sicker than when Percy arrived. His apology was sweet and you were somewhat relieved to see the Weasleys together again despite the circumstances. It felt like you’d come full circle when Percy’s eyes settled on you, much less sharp than they had been on the train that very first day and you barely listened when Kingsley Shacklebolt divided you into groups; you already knew what your role was. George tugged on your hand.

“What is happening?” he asked, his voice begging you to tell him as his hands rested on your cheeks. You swallowed back a lump in your throat as Colin Creevey caught your eye, his young frame sneaking away from the other students that were too young to fight.

“George, I can’t tell you that,” you said, your eyes lingering on Tonks for a moment.

“Y/N, please,” George whispered. You turned to him when his voice broke and all the sight in the world couldn’t prepare you for the tears running down his face, the redness of his eyes.

“There’s so much pain here,” you said, oddly calm for the first time as you stared at him. You brushed his hair from his forehead with a soft smile and what was left of his heart broke a little more at the look in your eyes.

“Y/N-“ he began, trying desperately to find the words. He could tell that you knew too much at that moment, your young face wise beyond your years.

“I would give you the whole world if I could, Georgie,” you promised, grinning. Your insides scrambled as his shoulders rocked a little, a cry escaping him, but you felt surprisingly light. You looked to the side conspiratorially before learning up to him, his hands on your cheeks dropping as you whispered in his ear.

“We win.”

He frowned, but before he could say anything else, you kissed him hard and he fought the urge to trap you in his arms and not let you go.

“I’ve gotta go help Freddie,” you nodded, shooting him a wink. Your eyes lingered on his face for a moment, his beautiful, broken, handsome face, before you chuckled and shook your head, already walking backwards away from him.

“Your life is exceptional, George.”

He reached for you, but you had already disappeared and he was already being ushered away by Bill, who insisted that he get a move on. He couldn’t shake the thought that you were saying goodbye.

He’d been pacing the Great Hall for the best part of three minutes when he saw his mum. Voldemort had announced the armistice barely five minutes ago and already the dead and injured were being carried in. He played with his wand between his fingers when he thought of his family, not yet returned, and he pulled at the hair on his hair when he thought about you, also missing in action.

“Mum,” he huffed, running over to her and hugging her almost as tightly as she hugged him. “I’m fine, Mum,” he said, grabbing her wrists. “Have you seen Y/N? Fred? Ginny?”

“I’m here,” Ginny said warily, walking over to them along with Arthur and Bill, who each got bone-crushing hugs from Molly. They could tell George was getting antsy after ten minutes passed and there was still no sign of you. Charlie arrived almost uninjured, apart from a scratch down his arm, stopping short at the bodies of Remus and Tonks. George felt bad that he hadn’t noticed them yet, but his guilt was replaced with hope when he saw Percy come in.

He raced towards him, pushing past nurses and the other injured people to meet his brother, who he wasn’t completely sure he even liked until that moment.

“Perc,” he said with his hands hard on Percy’s shoulders. “Are you okay? Where’s Fred? Where’s Y/N?”

“George…” Percy said gently, his hand gripping George’s wrist tightly. He frowned.

“What?”

He felt sick.

“We were fighting-“

“No,” George exhaled, his eyes halting over Percy’s shoulder as Fred walked into the Hall with you in his arms.

He could barely breathe as he yanked his wrist from Percy’s grasp and ran over. Fred’s red, tear-stained face covered in the same dirt that covered you sent a sharp pain through his chest.

“No, no, no.”

George grabbed the back of his brother’s neck when he saw him, pulling lightly at the hairs on his nape. His eyes weren’t on Fred, though.

You looked cold, he thought, and heavy in Fred’s arms. Deadweight. George looked at Fred, a strangled sob ripping from his throat as his other hand fell to your face, rubbing at the icy skin of your cheek.

“No,” he whispered. “She’s fine- she’s fine. She’s not- she’s fine. She’ll wake up.”

“Georgie-“ Fred said, his voice weak as he watched his brother. Right there, in the middle of the hall, George sank to the floor, his hand sliding from Fred’s neck as he pulled at you, desperate to have you close to him. Gently, with a sigh, Fred lowered your body down, placing you into George’s arms as he sat there on his knees.

Molly’s sob rang out through the stone walls as George pressed you to his neck, his hand at the back of your head as his chest heaved. You weren’t hugging him back. Your hand dragged on the dirty floor.

Fred’s guilt gnawed at his gut as his family walked over, hugging him and placing their hands on George’s bucking shoulders in an attempt at comfort. It didn’t work.

“It’s my fault,” Fred said to Ginny as she hugged him, her cheeks wet as she ran her hands through his hair. He didn’t look at her, he just stared at George.

“It wasn’t-“

“She pushed me out of the way.”

Everyone was silent for a moment, the background noise of people milling around more than overwhelming.

“She knew,” George whispered, pulling away from you and placing your lifeless hands into your lap, his fingers trying desperately to rub the dirt from your face. He just wanted to see you smile. He just needed to see that smile. “She knew, Fred. She knew what she was doing.”

harry potter tag list:

@creator-appreciator​

@decadentwastelandtrash

@loveisblindness​

@xinyourdreamsx​

@brainlesspasta​

@hariosborn​

@staringmoony​

@rexorangecouny​

@alittletoomanyobsessions​

@peachesandpinks​

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@in-slytherin-we-trust​

@ickle-ronniekins​ 

@harrysweasleys​

[itsclydebitches]

YYH Recaps: Episode 1, Surprised to be Dead

Hello, all you hypothetical readers! It's a beautiful spring day and I have a free afternoon ahead of me, so what better time to start another massive project while I guilty stuff my other WIPs deep into the depths of my hard drive? Yeah. Iffy life choices aside, someone mentioned a few weeks back that they'd love for me to recap a show I have more positive things to say about than negative (RIP RWBY) and ever since Netflix announced that their live-action adaptation of Yu Yu Hakusho is in the works, I've been itching for a re-watch of the anime. With the RWBY hiatus underway, it seemed like the perfect time to fulfill both desires.

Before we begin though, I'd like to touch on a few things that are going to influence this project.

First, YYH is near and dear to my heart. Written by Yoshihiro Togashi in the early 1990s and later adapted for an American audience by Funimation, I had the pleasure of experiencing this story five different ways: as a serialized tale in Shonen Jump, a binge read when I had the money to buy the manga, tiny snippets of the anime on Adult Swim late at night — don't tell my parents ;) — as an after-school treat on Toonami, and then years later as a re-watch when I introduced it to a friend (who, in turn, blessed me by having us watch Fullmetal Alchemist next). I used to keep a Hiei bookmark in everything I was reading, the spirit gun made it into our witch-wolf-space adventures on the playground (middle school was wild), and there was a long period of my life where I tried very hard to teach myself to stand with my hands behind my back, precisely as Genkai does. Spoiler alert: I failed. So to say I love the series is... a little bit of an understatement. I bring this up simply as a way of demonstrating that there's more than a bit of nostalgia attached to YYH for me and that will inevitably cloud my reading of it. How can it not? So that's just something to keep in mind as I work through a series that, like any having hit its 30th birthday, has its outdated, flawed, and other questionable aspects.

Second, but very much connected to the first point, is that these are pretty casual recaps. I summarize and extrapolate, focusing primarily on plot and dialogue (but with the occasional cinematography aspect tossed in). I'm not conducting research on the cultural history here — something that will come up at least once in this episode — I'm not arguing an overarching thesis, and I've never been someone who focuses on the author/production/trivia of a series. I'm here for the story as the story is presented to the viewer. If you've read my RWBY Recaps, this will function precisely the same way, with the only difference being I'm engaging with a finished text as opposed to an ongoing one, so there’s a lot less, “Maybe ___ will happen” theorizing going on. 

Third, I obviously recommend that you watch the show yourself (you can find it on YouTube!), but you don't have to know the series to follow along. As these massive paragraphs attest, I tend to be both detailed and verbose, so we'll be covering every major plot point — and most of the smaller ones too.

Finally, I'm working from the dub. I know, I know, the horror. But it's what I grew up on and, honestly, I think it's superior to the sub. YYH's dubbing is in a class all its own and to this day there are very few shows that compare to it. Trust me, it's a good call.

That's enough of the boring chit-chat though. Let's get started!

Our very first episode "Surprised to be Dead" opens on a crowded street. We see lots of traffic, people going about their business, and a pedestrian crossing sign that, crucially, turns red. This is our normality and, like in every genre story, you need to break that normality at some point so that the protagonists can go on their fantastical/supernatural/science fiction journey. YYH eases us into things by first breaking the normality of an everyday afternoon: there's a screech of tires, quick shots of a man pushing a child out of the way of an oncoming car, and then his back is hitting the windshield. We begin this story with a horrible — but otherwise mundane — car crash.

Now, these flashes alone have a fair bit to unpack. Despite later getting a brief shot of the man's scared face right before he's hit, the moment's focus is really on the child. He's the one foregrounded in the initial, slow-mo shot. He's the one who appears in color while the man is kept in shadow. This isn't just a hit, it's a rescue. The camera is also careful to follow the soccer ball this kid was playing with (more on that later in the episode), with it flying through the air as the man is hit and bouncing to a stop in the street, acting as the dramatic finish. It's childhood! It's innocence! It's play on a sunny afternoon! And it's all gone wrong.

This moment is chaotic and even a bit confusing. Not in the sense of what's happening — that is quite obviously a guy being hit by a car — but who the victims are, how precisely this came about, or even why we're meant to care about this beyond a generic capacity to feel for other human (fictional) beings... that's all removed. And it works. As the crash takes place, the camera pans across the stunned crowd and we, the viewer, become a part of that crowd. They don't know what precisely is going on either. We're all just horrified onlookers as a sudden tragedy takes place. We're all watching the same show.

So everyone realizes this guy has been hit. People are staring in shock and someone calls for an ambulance. We see the driver fall to his knees in the street, distraught, shakily saying, "I didn't mean to..." It's a very serious and emotional scene that —

— is immediately tempered by this guy waking up, complete with a cute 'pop!' sound effect when he opens his eyes.

This is YYH's brand, this Very Serious Circumstances skillfully interwoven with casual indifference/comedy. It's admittedly far from a unique brand, but it's an excellent choice given that this is the same attitude that will drive 99% of our protagonist's interaction with the world.

Speaking of said protagonist, our guy wakes up, opens his eyes, and realizes that he's floating. There's a great, disorientating shot from his perspective where everything is upside down, causing him to nearly fall out of the air. Well would you look at that, he's as confused as we are. It's our audience surrogate!

A narrator says, "And so it all begins. This boy's name is Yusuke, he's fourteen years old, and he's supposed to be the hero of this story. But oddly enough, he's dead."

Game of Thrones might have made it popular, but YYH did it better.

(Yeah, yeah, I know one death kick-starts the journey and the other is a shocking twist. Just let me have this.)

Now, it's a weird introduction, right? At least at the end. The announcement that change has occurred, a name, an age... that all checks out. But "supposed to be the hero"? What the hell is that “supposed to” mean? Our narrator gives us the easy, surface answer: "But oddly enough, he's dead." We're capitalizing here on the audience's expectation that death ends a character's journey and though they may have been a hero previously, they can no longer be one moving forward. That function within the story has passed. So it's this intriguing question of, "What kind of hero do you have when that hero is dead from the start?" but as we'll see soon, there's an additional meaning here of, "How can Yusuke be the hero?" As this premiere sets up, Yusuke doesn't act like the hero is “supposed to” act. 

Until he saved this kid.

But right now he's just confused: "Okay, this is weird. Stupid weird."

Two EMTs arrive on the scene and are hilariously useless. You know how in any medical drama a doctor will stop CPR after a couple of seconds because obviously you're not going to spend half the episode on realism? Well, that's this only a thousand times worse. One guy just looks at the kid and announces he's fine except for some bumps and bruises. Meanwhile, the kid is sobbing.

"Well, at least one of them is," replies the other EMT, because I guess he can tell Yusuke is beyond hope without taking a pulse or anything? "I hate cleanup," he complains as they load his body onto a stretcher because that's? An empathetic response to have??

Honestly this scene is wild.

Yusuke is understandably upset that he's, you know, dead and all. He starts hounding the EMTs who, unable to hear him, just go about their business of taking the kid and his body to the hospital. "You think you can just do whatever you want because you have that stupid uniform on? You can't just write me off. Listen to me!" and Yusuke tries to punch one of the EMTs in the head, resulting in him floating right through.

What a great way to introduce your protagonist's personality. We see here that when things go wrong Yusuke's default emotion is anger and it starts creeping in even before he thinks the others are ignoring him: "Stupid weird." He has problems with authority — "You think you can just do whatever you want because you have that stupid uniform on?" — is used to others listening when he gets angry — "You can't just write me off!" — and is poised to use violence at the slightest provocation. Yusuke is a guy who, right now at least, is ready to punch first and ask questions later.

As Yusuke floats back up into the air and the ambulance drives away, he finally cools down enough to try and think his way out of this. "It's not like this is the first time you've been in a jam,” he thinks. Yusuke recalls that yeah, something was different about today...

...he actually went to school.

Catch me laughing that this idiot boy equates the weirdness of him dying with going to school. Good lord. 

Anyway, this jumpstarts our flashback. We open on a generic, anime middle school (that always feels like a high school to me) where the principal is calling for Yusuke through the loud speaker. Oooo someone’s in trouble! We follow a young girl up to the rooftop and she gets a classic hair-blowing-in-the-wind moment to  establish that she's our love interest. Meet Keiko Yukimura.

Keiko finds Yusuke hanging out and immediately starts lecturing him for trying to chew gum and refusing to wear the boys' uniform. "Oh, give me a break, Keiko. I look better in green." Note that it's here we learn her name and it's an easy, casual way to introduce it. I bring this up because Yusuke's introduction via our narrator is very much... not that. It's an on your nose statement about his name, age, and importance to the story, and if you're just starting the show in 2021, it might come across as a rather armature move. Like something out of a kid's show, perhaps. Yet here we see that this was a deliberate choice, considering that YYH is capable of introducing character information naturally when it wants to.

This moment also tells us that Yusuke cares a great deal about his image. More on that in a bit. Because Keiko isn't finished her list of grievances yet, going on to say that his attendance record has hurt their entire class, hurt her as class representative, and if he keeps going down this path he won't even graduate middle school. "Sometimes I think you don't care about anyone but yourself and then you don't even do that right!"

They're legit complaints. Too bad Yusuke is busy looking up Keiko's skirt.

Yeeeeah. Sadly, this is common for anime, particularly a 90s anime like YYH. Even presumably more progressive series like My Hero Academia feature characters like Mineta, whose entire personality is being a pervert, and the creation of abilities that "require" kids/young women to be scantily clad. See: Yaoyorozu. YYH is no different in this regard, with various forms of sexual harassment functioning as a shorthand for how much Yusuke secretly likes Keiko. "Boys will be boys," right? Obviously not. 

Like so many others series, the creators get away with it because they’re framing it as a bad thing. It's totally fine because look, Keiko slaps him! This is  teaching the viewer how wrong this behavior is. Never mind that this is clearly an established habit between them, that Yusuke laughs off Keiko's discomfort, and that the whole scene is meant to be funny for the viewer. That's the real purpose here; it’s not a PSA on harassment. 

That, and to establish the long-suffering love Keiko has for Yusuke in turn, largely stemming from a life-long friendship. "Dumb boy! He hasn't grown up a bit since he was four years old." We see that Keiko's early interactions with Yusuke have given her insight that others lack. As she heads down from the roof she runs into two girls hiding around the corner, too scared to come out lest "the great Urameshi" set his sights on them. Isn't Keiko terrified of what he might do to her? "Or worse, what others might say of it?" Like any classic high school middle school setting, one's reputation is king. Yusuke cares about how others see him — maintaining that tough boy attitude — and the girls care more about what the rest of the school might think of Keiko's interactions with him than the presumed harm Yusuke could do to her. They heard he can summon 2,000 men with just a whistle and that he "kills for fun!" But that means nothing in the face of people talking about you. Despite being one of the most popular girls in school, Keiko is the outsider here via her disinterest in what other people think.

The animation changes here, giving us a good look at how the girls picture Yusuke: tough, scowling, surrounded by shadows, and backed by an entire army.

In contrast, we've already seen what Yusuke is really like.

Keiko laughs the image off too. Yusuke is more like a "lamb" than a killer and besides, he couldn't order around two people, let alone two hundred. "He doesn't have many friends."

"That's not what I heard," says one of the girls. 

"Yeah," goes the other. "I think we would know." 

Again, rumors rule here, with whispers in the hall considered more reliable than someone who interacts with Yusuke on a daily basis. Keiko doesn’t have a hope of changing their minds. 

Oh, as a side note, I love that they gave Keiko Miyazaki-esque hair. It's very emotive.

Yusuke escapes outside where the principal is still calling for him to report to his office. He overhears a conversation around the corner and we cut to two boys, one of which is showing a wallet off to the other. He explains that some bully tried to rough him up, but he said he was Urameshi's cousin and the bully took off, dropping his wallet in the process. The guy's friend is impressed, but what is he going to do if Yusuke ever finds out he lied? Not to worry, he says, that "blockhead" would probably think it's true even if he did somehow hear.

Yusuke, obviously, does hear about this and he, also obviously, does not believe this guy is his cousin. He looms ominously and they scurry up against a wall, terrified and offering him the wallet as an apology.

"You think I want your money?" Yusuke yells.

YYH is, in many respects, a rather simple story, but I appreciate the hints of complexity in these otherwise straightforward interactions. It's not that this guy used Yusuke's name to steal a wallet, he used it as a form of protection against another bully — a far more sympathetic motivation. It's not that Yusuke's fearsome reputation has resulted in any genuine respect because once people think they're safe they reveal how little they think of his intelligence — he's a "blockhead." And Yusuke, though intimidating and violent, is not your average, schoolyard bully. He doesn't care about money, only the insult and the damage this guy using his name might have done to his reputation. There's a little more nuance here than you might otherwise expect.

Also, note how dark the boys' standard uniforms are and how much they blend into the rest of the world. Yusuke, as our protagonist, stands out in his bright clothing. He was right, he does look better in green!

So he's ready to clobber this kid when one of the teachers arrive: Mr. Iwamoto.

Iwamoto demands to know what's going on, but the boys are too terrified to rat Yusuke out. Noticing the wallet on the ground, he assumes that Yusuke was after their money, something that greatly offends him: "Whatever!" Iwamoto goes on to say that, "No good weeds like you should have been plucked a long time ago," making it clear that he considers Yusuke a hopeless case. The positive aspects that Keiko sees, as well as the complexity the viewer sees — to say nothing of his introduction of saving a kid — aren’t considered here.

Notably, Iwamoto exists in part to show us what Yusuke could become. Not a teacher (he's obviously not attending school enough for that!), but a cynical man who is cruel for cruelty's sake. Yusuke is already barreling down that path, ignoring Keiko's advice, terrorizing other students, trying to punch EMTs, etc. If his life (or afterlife...) hadn't changed through that accident, this is the kind of person Yusuke might have grown up to be, and we can see that clearly in the visual parallels between them. Dark haired men dressed in green who scowl with ease and toss out cutting insults. Yusuke is staring his future in the face.

For now he walks off with a final shot, "You shouldn't talk. It makes you sound stupid." This time Yusuke makes it to the school's entrance and tries to enjoy his second attempt at chewing gum, but someone hits him in the back of the head.

"Okay, somebody's DEAD — ah. Sorry, old man."

"That's Mr. Takenaka to you."

Our principal has finally left the office and hunted down Yusuke for himself! Putting this interaction immediately after the one with Iwamoto allows the viewer to compare them. Yusuke might be irreverent towards his principal, but it's clear there's still some kind of respect between them. Yusuke only starts threatening because he doesn’t realize who hit him and once he does realize it's Takenaka, he immediately apologizes. That "old man" comes across as a teasing insult and Yusuke allows himself to be briefly dragged back towards school, rather than throwing a now classic punch. In turn, Takenaka cares enough about Yusuke to try and keep him on the straight and narrow. He utilizes Yusuke's preferred language — violence — but in a casual way, nonthreatening way: slight hit to the back of his head, noogie, pulling him along by the ear. 

It's the sort of physicality we're used to seeing in media between a parent and child who are outwardly antagonistic, but actually share a deep bond. Takenaka is also careful to frame their return to his office as a "discussion," not a punishment, and offers Yusuke tea along with the conversation. Whereas Iwamoto considers Yusuke to be a "weed" that should have been plucked from their school long ago, Takenaka is determined to help Yusuke bloom.

If we're continuing the flower metaphor :D

Yusuke isn't in the mood to play along though. He gets away by using a fake ear, startling Takenaka when it unexpectedly pulls free. Yusuke escapes the school grounds and Takenaka, suffering a back twinge from his fall, can't chase after him. Poor guy. I understand that pain lol.

Yusuke heads home where we're introduced to his mother, Atsuko. Most notable in her first shot is the soft lighting that highlights her looks. We're not told how old she is here, but I believe she's around 28 — and she looks it, if not younger. Given that Yusuke is 14, that means Atsuko was a mom at his age. This is a quick and subtle way to tell us about Yusuke's home life. There are more overt details in this scene — it's at least lunchtime and Atsuko hasn't left her bed yet, she demands that Yusuke make her coffee instead of greeting him, it's all meant to imply (before we actually see) that she's an alcoholic — but her age is another way to highlight the broken household here. There's no partner in sight and she clearly had Yusuke as a teenager. He hasn't had a strong parental figure to take care of him. If anything, Yusuke is taking care of Atsuko here.

"Oh great, mother of the year!" basically sums things up.

Atsuko wants to know why Yusuke isn't in school and he says that everyone is pissing him off today, particularly with their preaching. "Dear, if you hate preaching so much you should live on your own... but you can't do that, can you?" Alongside a rough upbringing, Yusuke is suffering from the common problem of being trapped in a dead-end life. He hates his school, his town, and coming home to find his mom hungover. Yusuke has no prospects and, outside of one principal, no one who is actively working to help him find some. Even the little things he hates, like being preached to, are unavoidable because if you want to live on your own, that requires money. Good luck pulling that off as a middle schooler whose only skill is street fighting!

Yusuke walks off in a huff, literally shouting in a street about what a bad day he's having (and hilariously scaring off pedestrians in the process). His shout brings trouble though. A couple guys appear to ambush him, their boss close behind. The music increases the tension, Yusuke's expression is serious, and we even get a Dutch angle thrown into the mix. 

For any who don't know, the Dutch angle is a popular film technique to establish that something is wrong. There's tension in the scene, something uneasy is at play, and the world is now literally off center. It's perhaps most famously used in Do The Right Thing to establish the friction between an Italian-American pizzeria and the predominantly African American neighborhood it's based in.

But it's also used a great deal in horror as a way to say: yup, shit just got real. Scary real.

This Dutch angle introduces a character you may not appreciate at first, but absolutely should: Kazuma Kuwabara.

He's initially the comic relief and that's clear in his introduction. Within seconds we move from that intimidating arrival to, well, seeing him. To be clear, I've got nothing against redheads with big chins, but compared to Yusuke's design, Kuwabara is meant to be the funny looking one. His threat level plummets the moment we get a look at his face, especially in a series that will occasionally use looks as a (supposed) measure of intelligence. 

Also, Kuwabara is dressed in light blue so, like Yusuke, we know he's important!

Any assumptions that his appearance isn’t meant to imply a goofy, embarrassing personality are put to rest when Kuwabara starts rambling about how they last time they fought Yusuke just got a cheap shot in and he'll definitely win this time. Yeah, he won't. Yusuke is thrilled by this diversion though and we get a shot of him looking almost as creepy as Keiko's friends think he is. Whatever else might be said about Yusuke, he is absolutely a monster in a fight.

Which we see here. If anyone picked up the series without knowing this was a fighting anime, they'll realize it now. Yusuke's choreography is stylized to show off his skill: he disappears with a 'whoosh' and dark lines to suggest inhuman speed,

attacking Kuwabara with a knee to the face, utilizes flying kicks, lands perfect, precision punches, and ends it all with the toe-tip landing we've come to expect of all powerful fighters. Kuwabara never even got a hit in. 

Happy as a clam now, Yusuke wanders off whistling and Kuwabara's friends are left to pick up the pieces. AKA, his likely broken bones. I love that they're legit friends though and not just nameless goons for the sake of giving Kuwabara a small gang (though their names won't come up until later). "That makes 0 wins an 156 loses!" one of them cries, trying to get Kuwabara to stop ending up in the hospital, probably. We establish that Kuwabara is The Most Dramatic Ever when he pulls his broken body into a seated position, shouting, "No! I almost had him that time!"

Then he passes out.

Kuwabara, honey, you obviously did not almost have him, but god bless you for the outlook. The most optimistic thing on this Earth is a well-loved Golden Retriever, but Kuwabara comes in at a very close second.

With his dream to one day beat Yusuke in combat established, we cut to Yusuke wandering the street where the episode opened. "Okay, I'm remembering" he says in a voiceover. "After that I met the kid."

The soccer ball reappears as it rolls to a stop at Yusuke's feet. He grabs it and immediately starts yelling at the kid. Horrible protagonist, right? Well, Yusuke is trying to instill in him the danger of using this street as a playground, a worry the viewer already knows is 100% justified. “Listen, kid, that’s dangerous! There are cars going by that will splatter you into the pavement!” It's one of those quick moments where we get to enjoy Yusuke's duality: he's someone who is nearly making a toddler cry, but for rather understandable reasons. He's got the right idea, but needs to go about it in a more mature manner.

Which is precisely what he attempts to do. Sort of. Yusuke changes gears, though whether it's a more "mature" route is certainly up for debate lol. He tries entertaining the kid instead, raising and lowering the soccer ball to reveal goofy faces.

When these fail to impress, Yusuke goes full out by stuffing the ball into his pants, pushing his nose up with a pair of chopsticks he got from god knows where, and generally just putting on a display.

So Yusuke cares very deeply about his reputation... but only when it comes to those who are an established part of his life. Keiko, Mr. Takenaka, and the other kids at school all need to maintain a particular image of Yusuke, one that he's carefully cultivated. But random pedestrians on the street? Who cares about them? Let them talk.

This shows us that Yusuke does indeed have priorities over his own, selfish goals. Namely, the happiness of some kid is more important to him than looking "cool" for a bunch of strangers. Lots of characters with Yusuke's surface attitude would sneer at the idea of degrading themselves for — their words — some brat. But Yusuke, as we constantly see, actually does have that heart of gold. “Well, if all else fails I can still make kids happy.”

Although... I'm not sure what to make of his display itself. I have the distinct sense that there's something prejudiced here that I'm not able to fully articulate, what with the chopsticks, slanted eyes, bald head, and the like, though to be entirely frank I don't have enough knowledge of Japan's history to say precisely what it might be. Or, really, whether it exists at all. Just something to chew on.

What I am sure about though is the importance of having the child label Yusuke as monster — "Yeah, monster! — but in a delighted manner. Yusuke is indeed some kind a monster, someone who disappoints adults and terrifies his classmates, a demon fighter on the streets too, but here that identity is reworked into something positive.

Having successful secured a laugh, Yusuke tells the kid — calmly this time — to go play elsewhere. The toddler stares up at him with the blank expression only kids can manage.

Well, kids and whatever headspace I'm in after writing these metas.

To absolutely no one's surprise except Yusuke's, the kid does not go elsewhere. Instead, he continues kicking the ball down the street, causing Yusuke to exclaim, “Dammit, what’s the use? The kid can get smashed by a car for all I care!” Liar, liar. 

The picture becomes desaturated as the kid kicks the ball and it flies into the street, time slowing down to show it landing precisely in the middle of the road. Yusuke again yells for him to stay put, but when has a toddler ever listened? He begins to walk into the road as our driver arrives, speeding, swerving, and paying more attention to the girl at his side than what's in front of him.

This time, we see the accident from the front with both Yusuke and the kid presented equally.

There's a cut to black and when we return we're in the present, Yusuke floating above the policemen now investigating the scene. “So that’s it? I’m roadkill?” As Yusuke realizes he's dead, specifically that he's a ghost, a voice goes,

"Bingo! Bingo! You win the prize!"

A woman has appeared who is quite obviously othered by the standards of the episode so far. Unlike the greens, blues, and browns of the series' modern clothes, she's dressed in hot pink kimono with blue hair to match. She's also, you know, floating on an oar.

“I didn’t expect you to figure it out so quickly," she says, referring to Yusuke's revelation that he's dead. Apparently, those who meet unexpected and/or violent ends tend to take some time coming to terms with their demise. It's a nice acknowledgment of Yusuke's intelligence in an interaction that's otherwise... not great for his self-esteem.

Meaning, this woman is about to drag him lol.

She introduces herself as Botan, pilot of the River Styx and guider of souls to the afterlife. You might also know her as the Grim Reaper.

(Hey, RWBY fans: I originally wrote that as Grimm Reaper 🤦‍♀️)

It's an claim Yusuke takes issue with because 1. Botan is too pretty to be the Grim Reaper and 2. If she was really some god of death she'd be taking this much more seriously, not laughing and saying, "Bingo!" For the audience this does two things. First, it acknowledges our own expectations and validates them. Yusuke's world isn't so far removed from our own that he takes Botan's looks and personality at face value, he also expected a skeleton with a scythe. So don't worry, all the weird stuff in this series is weird to our protagonist too. They'll be explanations. Or, even if there’s not, you’re not wrong for being surprised. 

Second, it sets up the very common theme in YYH of undermining those common assumptions again and again and again. We've already seen it with Yusuke, wherein characters who look and act a certain way are, supposedly, destined to be that person and nothing more. Yusuke is meant to be just a "weed," a dumb, violent, angry loser who goes nowhere in life... but we already know he's more than that. Botan is supposed to be scary and serious, but she says nah, I want to be cute and bubbly instead. No character in YYH embodies who they're "supposed" to be when you look past those surface characterizations. They play the part of archetypes — and do keep certain parts of their expected personalities — but they're also far more well-rounded than that. Which yeah, is something most people expect from any story nowadays, but YYH is particularly adept at making you think you're watching Simple Show A only to turn around and surprise you with More Complex Show B.

It's great, trust me.

So Yusuke is pissed that Botan isn't adhering to those expectations, in the same way that he works hard to validate others expectations of him. He doesn't know how to deal with someone challenging his world view yet. Rather than angering Botan though, she just nods and says that this response makes sense for him. “Rather than being scared, or surprised, you yell a lot and tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about." Taking out a notebook, she quickly summarizes everything we learned in the flashback — minus Yusuke's complexities: he's fourteen, in middle school, is ill-tempered, violent, hates authority, and is a horrible student.

Typically, Yusuke responds by getting angry and trying to snatch the booklet out of her hands, only for Botan to pull it out of his reach, laughing. The tables have turned! Rather than being surrounded by people who cower at Yusuke's imposed authority, he now finds himself faced with someone who laughs at his transparent attempts to take control of the situation.

Calming down, Yusuke wants to know if the kid he saved is really alright and Botan offers to let him see for himself. That offer produces Yusuke's first, genuine smile.

They fly to the hospital where a doctor is in the process of giving the kid a clean bill of health, his mother crying with relief. 

That's enough for Yusuke. “Alright, Botan, I’ve got no regrets, so you can take me to hell or wherever it is I’m going.”

That tells you all you need to know about Yusuke's self-worth, despite his bad boy attitude. His life is a dead-end as far as he can see and most of those around him haven't done anything to dissuade him of that idea. He says he doesn't care if the kid lives or dies, but then instinctively saves him. Post his death, Yusuke doesn't have anything he considers a regret, or anything he'd like to do before he leaves, like saying goodbye to a loved one. Oh, he's also pretty sure he's going to hell and has resigned himself to that without a fight.

Uplifting!

Botan just laughs though, saying that she's actually here to offer Yusuke an "ordeal" that could bring him back to life. See, he wasn't supposed to die today — let alone die saving a kid — and frankly they don't know what to do with him. It's another neat summary of what we've already learned: Yusuke is a far more complicated case than the afterlife assumed and now, when push comes to shove, deciding whether he belongs in heaven or hell is... muddled.

There's a fantastic story there about the problems with an afterlife that reduces a person's entire life to a few surface characteristics recorded in a book, refusing to acknowledge the context of their situation, or their capacity for change. “Run someone with your credentials a thousand times and they never would have saved a kid like that." Except, of course, Yusuke did save him, so those "credentials" are suspect, to say the least. However, YYH is not a story that explores these issues. Instead, I recommend you watch this!

Rather than being upset at the afterlife's low opinion of him (because let's be real, Yusuke shares it), he latches onto a little detail Botan let slip. If he wasn't supposed to die today... then was the kid?

Mmm... no. Actually, without the chaos of Yusuke jumping into the road, the driver would have swerved at the last second and the kid would have not only lived, but actually come out with one less scrape.

So Yusuke is obviously upset by this news! I would be too!! Holy shit, hang onto the "it's the thought that counts" message with everything you've got.

Also, don't think too much about the fact that the afterlife apparently knows exactly what will happen to people, down to how many cuts they accumulate in an accident. Also, don't think too much about where the afterlife foreseeing the crash begins and the unexpectedness of Yusuke interfering ends. That way lies madness. This will never come up again, so just let it go.

Sorry, 2013 me hijacked the post for a second.

As said, Yusuke is understandably upset by this revelation and as he fumes I'm reminded that this series likes to pull some amazing expressions.

Botan reiterates that it's all fine because Yusuke can come back to life. Weren't you listening? He should feel honored, in fact, considering that an offer like this only arrives every 100 years or so. Well, that explains why all of humanity isn't grappling with people coming back to life on the daily. One person every generation isn't going to cause much of a stir.

However, instead of jumping at the chance Yusuke announces that Botan is just like the teachers at school: she doesn't know what she's talking about. “You said yourself my life was kind of pathetic, right?” he says, going on to explain that everyone will be happier now that he's dead. His school won't have to deal with his behavior, Keiko won't have to nag him, and his mom will be able to party whenever she wants. It's a win-win for everyone involved. 

Hmm, this feels familiar. 

Don't worry, Yusuke doesn't need to experience a whole alternate reality to get the message.

“I’m sorry you feel that way at such an early age," Botan says and she is sorry, because despite her teasing nature that's a legitimately horrifying thing to believe. Yusuke won't budge though and after a little back-and-forth Botan leaves, telling Yusuke he should think it over while visiting his wake. She'll come back once he decides what to do.

“Do you have worms in your ears, lady? I did decide!” but Botan is long gone.

We cut to that night where Yusuke has indeed decided to attend his own wake. Maybe because of Botan's advice, maybe because he's just morbidly curious. We’re not given insight into the decision. 

Atsuko is a mess, to put it mildly, not dressed for the occasion and sitting slumped against the way, staring vacantly as the guests offer their condolences. Yusuke is surprised by the fact that his entire class is here, but quickly writes them off when he sees two of the boys laughing. I'm on the fence about this detail, which I'll unpack in just a second.

First though, Yusuke sees Keiko exiting the house, inconsolable in her grief. She collapses on the ground with her two friends trying to offer comfort, despite the fact that they had nothing good to say about Yusuke himself. Good on them.

Before he can think too long on this though, Yusuke is distracted by Kuwabara's arrival. Unlike Keiko's crying, he expresses his grief through yelling. Specifically, yelling at Yusuke. For dying. For daring to "run away." His own friends are physically holding him back as he charges into the wake, screaming, “Who am I gonna fight now, huh? Who am I gonna fight?" It's not really about the fighting, of course. At least, not the fighting alone. "You’re supposed to be here for me," Kuwabara finishes, the punch he's thrown at Yusuke's photo going limp and catching his first tear.

You know, for all the  goofy expressions, this show really is gorgeous. Just wait until we get to the fight animations.

Kuwabara's reaction is why I hesitate to write off the classmates like Yusuke has. Granted, we have no reason to believe that they care for him as Kuwabara does — they're nameless background characters defined only by their terror of "the great Urameshi" — but it's still a split second taken out of context. We don't know what they were laughing at, or if laughing is a part of their grief. God knows I personally laugh at the most inappropriate moments. If you tell me someone has just died there is a very good chance I will laugh awkwardly as I try to process that. It’s just a reflex. All of which I bring up not because these side characters are important, but because Yusuke's perception of his own worth is. The point of each of these moments is to show that those around him have always cared for him, even if Yusuke didn't notice. It's nice to think that extends to his classmates too. The variety likewise exists to show us how people grieve differently, with Kuwabara's friends not understanding that this is how he's working through the trauma: “This place is for mourning!” He is mourning, even if his way of mourning isn't as socially acceptable as Keiko's. So if screaming and throwing punches is valid, crying is valid, staring stoically in a drunk stupor is valid... why not laughter too?

Not likely, perhaps, but possible.

As an additional possibility to chew on, watching this premier again, it struck me how more emotional Kuwabara's scene is compared to Keiko's. Don't get me wrong, crying and calling Yusuke’s name gets the point across, but it's two seconds of generic grief compared to a much longer scene rife with intensity. When Kuwabara arrives the music swells and everyone is forced to pay attention to him. His grief is loud, violent, and given symbolism with his fist and the photo. There's more effort put into his reaction, frankly, so it wouldn't surprise me if fans started shipping them after this. That grief combined with an "enemies to lovers" possibility is a pretty potent mix. To be clear, Yusuke/Keiko is the (oh so obvious) canonical endgame and in the fandom Yusuke/Kuwabara can't compare to another slash ship that will turn up later, but this is a good example of how writers can craft some Very Gay Scenes without realizing it. When you have the girl crying prettily for a second and the guy absolutely losing his mind over Yusuke's death, questioning his purpose now, his support network, and then collapsing in grief... don't be surprised if your audience goes, "Oh hey, maybe they'd be a good couple instead."

But I digress.

The only people who are unquestioningly happy about Yusuke's passing are Mr. Iwamoto and his co-conspirator, Mr. Akashi. You know Akashi is another bad guy because he has bucked teeth and "ugliness" is an easy way to code for evilness. YYH is not immune to those mistakes :/

These two are really something else though, standing in the middle of a wake and claiming it's “too bad that car wasn’t big enough for them too," referring to Kuwabara and his friends. Wow! What stellar members of the academic community. Iwamoto goes on to say that Yusuke dying at least accomplished something good. Not, mind you, saving the life of a child, but rather looking good for their school's reputation. Akashi agrees, but says it's likely Yusuke only accidentally saved him while trying to steal the kid's lunch money. Remember, that accusation of theft is the one thing Yusuke has said outright that he does not do.

He's pissed listening to all this — wouldn't you be? — but knows by now he can't do anything about it. In another fantastic shot, Yusuke hovers his hand over Iwamoto's shoulder, desperate to grab him, when Takenaka's arrives there instead.

“What do you suppose is more disgraceful? That boy showing his misery, or your insensitive and idiotic words!”

HELL YEAH. You tell 'em, Mr. Takenaka.

Yusuke gets his third shock of the night at this passionate defense. Takenaka leaves the teachers to go pay his respects, but admits to Yusuke's picture that he just can't speak well of him. He was surprised to hear that Yusuke gave up his life for another and it's a fact that he acted selfishly. Though he doesn't say it in as many words, Takenaka explains that he's not grieving because Yusuke was a good person, but because it's so clear to him that he might have been. “Why didn’t you stay? You could have made something great out of yourself.”

Normally, "Why didn't you stay?" is just something for the living to grapple with, as the dead obviously don't have any say in what happens to them. But Yusuke does. It's here that the lighting grows soft again and Yusuke considers Takenaka's words. Keiko and Kuwabara grieve for who he was, but Takenaka grieves for who Yusuke could have been — someone that might still exist if Yusuke decides to undergo this ordeal.

Atsuko adds fuel to the emotional fire, breaking down and hiding her face in her knees.

Finally, the kid Yusuke saved arrives with his mother. Because yes, Yusuke saved him in every way that matters, considering no one else knows — or will know — that he'd have lived anyway. I like that the show doesn't allow that knowledge to undermine the emotion of their arrival, or what Yusuke’s act meant to them. 

The mom tells her son to pay his respects and the kid thanks Yusuke for saving him, and for "making faces." He clearly doesn't get what's going on here. This is confirmed as the two leave and he asks his mom if he can play with Yusuke again tomorrow. “I know some people sounded angry at him, but he’s really nice!" 

They're probably just crying because they want to play with him too, he thinks, which just makes his mom join in. Everyone is crying in this club tonight.

Those words are the cincher for Yusuke and with a brief montage of all the grief he's witnessed, he makes his decision.

We cut to later that night where Yusuke floats above the city, admiring the moon. Botan reappears and he asks, “Have you ever not known about something that seemed obvious to everyone else?” Yes, everyone has experienced that at one point or another. She asks if he's made his decision and Yusuke agrees to try and come back to life.

Emotional revelations out of the way, we're allowed another tone shift as Botan yells with joy, speeding off and causing Yusuke to grab hold of the end of her oar, lest he be left behind. Cranky as always, he demands to know where they're going. "To the spirit world, of course!" They're off to see someone who can explain the ordeal and give Yusuke the tool needed to complete it. Just hang on and enjoy the ride.

Thus ends our very first episode! Ah, the nostalgia. This is part one of a four arc series, with the anime cutting out a lot of the filler stories found at the start of the manga — a smart decision, I think. They primarily do the work of teaching Yusuke what he learned at the wake, so if you can accomplish that as quickly as the adaptation did, all the better. Especially since Yusuke needs to grow a great deal beyond the basic understanding that people might, sort of care for him, and that work will occur primarily through a job he's going to take on. The series isn't really about his death and it's not about an attempt to come back either — it's about what happens once you get that second chance. So this is the setup, but it's important setup all the same.

No need to skip ahead though. I've blathered enough for one recap. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you when the writing gods next bless me with energy! 💜

[katsukisbimbo]

As The World Caves In

✯ pairing: hawks (takami keigo) x gn! reader

✯ genre: angst. just angst

✯ summary: you knew what no matter how bad keigo fucked up. he would be the only one for you.

✯wordcount: 1.6k+

✯warning: angst. it’s so sad. swearing. major character death.

✯ n/a: i cried so hard writing this. it was just so hard to write because of my immense love for hawks. also read this while listening to “as the world caves in” by matt maltese! it hurts more!

sometimes, you wondered what your life would be like if you rejected takami keigo’s advances towards you. lately, keigo has been too busy for you and would leave and go under radar for weeks at a time without informing you. being with him made your anxiety shoot up at the thought of him never coming back. at the thought of you finding his body cold and decaying. at the thought of never being able to hear him call you kid again.

it’s been two weeks since you’ve last seen him. you were worried, but it’s not like it was his first time doing this. you lounged around in your pajama’s as you had a day off today. you laid on your couch as you reminisced your sweet times with keigo, wanting nothing but to be in his arms.

—-

“kEigO! you fucking DICK!” you yelled as you felt your bird brained boyfriend drop you into the freezing cold water of the lake. he was bent over laughing, clutching his stomach at the sight of you drenched and freezing head to toe. you couldn’t help but admire how beautiful he looked while he laughed. you knew about keigo’s past. you knew that he didn’t have much of a childhood, and you were the one who helped him experience things that he should’ve experienced when he was younger.

“i’m sorry kid, i couldn’t resist! you look too cute pouting at me like that” he chuckled as he walked towards you to wrap his arms and wings around your shivering figure. your scowl dropped as you snuggled your face into his warm chest, relishing this moment with your boyfriend.

“hey keigo? are you gonna leave me again?” you questioned as you tilted your head up to peek at his face, catching him grimace at your question. you already knew the answer. you decided to push your negative thoughts out of your mind and just live in the present with keigo.

“you know i don’t like leaving you kid, but i have to. it’s my job, it’s our job. don’t worry about me, i’ll be back before you know it” he comforted as he pressed a loving kiss onto your forehead.

you just nodded and hugged him tighter, feeling your hot tears threaten to overflow and cascade down the apples of your cheeks.

you both stood there, holding each other as if it was the last time.

—-

you felt your phone vibrate on your stomach, pulling you from your daydreams. it was your agency calling. it must’ve been big if they were calling you on your day off.

“hello?” you answered getting ready to put your hero costume on.

“y/h/n! please get down to musutafu now! hawks needs assistance and nobodies available! he’s in big trouble!” they yelled.

that’s all it took for you to drop everything and run to your lover.

—-

“do you ever think we’re going to have kids in the future?” you question your boyfriend as you two watched the sunset rise on top of your building. you turned your head to look in his direction but he already had his eyes on you. you surely would have blushed if he did this while your relationship was still new. (he’s done it before)

he smiled at you and turned his whole body to face you, making you do the same. he brushed the stray hairs out of your face before cupping your cheek. he was fondly looking at you before he decided to speak.

“we’re gonna have all the kids you want kid. we can have a whole basketball team! just imagine that! we can make our own or adopt!” he giggled excitedly.

it was rare to see your boyfriend like this. most of the time he was very serious, especially during patrol as he took his job quite earnestly. the way he did his job with care and thought was admirable. sure you were in the top 10 as well, but he was number two. you strived to be like your boyfriend.

“i wanna have so many kids keigo. i wanna have a nice house, a dog, and the whole white picket fence thing. i want the whole package.” you whispered as you kissed his chest while drawing patterns on his left hip with your pointer finger.

he let out a breathy laugh and took your hand that was on his hip and placed it against his face, snuggling his cheek against it. you gently caressed his cheek with your thumb, making him sigh in content.

“i love you y/n. i love you so much” he whispered as he moved to capture your lips into an innocent kiss.

what started as an innocent kiss soon turned into a heated makeout session as keigo slipped his tongue into your mouth, rubbing his tongue against yours which caused you to let out a low moan.

you felt him pull away as he hovered over you, raking his eyes down from your glassy eyes to your kiss bitten lips.

“how about we get started on the whole baby thing?” he questioned with a smirk.

—-

you soon arrived at the scene where keigo was supposed to be. it looked like a ghost town. buildings and streets were empty as you checked for anymore civilians in the vicinity. you soon heard a loud crash a few blocks away from your current location and ran towards the sound.

—

“you haven’t been home much keigo” you grumbled as you stirred your tea in your mug. your boyfriend sighed as he felt irritated that you were bringing this up again.

“how many times do i have to say it y/n? it’s my job.” he rolled his eyes.

“don’t give me that shit keigo. i know its your fucking job. it’s my job too. but you’re leaving so often now. i don’t even know if you’ll come back alive. for all i know you could be coming back to me already cold. i’m just worried. and i don’t know where you go either. it’s just not the ideal situation.”

he scoffed. “being a hero is NEVER an ideal situation y/n. you fucking know that. oh wait, you don’t. you don’t have the same responsibilities as me because they don’t trust you enough with that shit. they’re not just gonna let a rinky dink hero take care of shit they can’t handle”

you couldn’t believe that he just said that to you. all you wanted to do was scream and yell at him. you wanted to tell him how much of an asshole he was. you want him to feel what you were feeling. instead, you just turned your back on him and walked away, not looking back to see if he would follow you.

you soon felt a hand grasp your arm and you were turned to face your solemn looking boyfriend.

“y/n- i didn’t mean that. i’m so sor-“ you grasped his hand holding your arm and pushed it off. feeling your tears finally cascade down your heated cheeks.

“i’m done keigo.” you said as you turned your back on him once more. not seeing him fall down to his knees.

you wanted to go back to him. you wanted to tell him that it was okay. and that you were both just upset. but your pride was too hurt, and so were your feelings.

—-

you felt your thoughts running a mile a minute. was that keigo? was that the villain? who was it? who got hurt?

you soon found out as you arrived on the scene, seeing your former lover covered under a pile of rubble. his once luscious wings were bent in odd angles, most of his feathers already gone.

“keigo. KEIGO! please wake up, keigo wake up please i’m so sorry keigo! please wake up birdie. please wake up” you wailed as you shook him.

“hey baby bird” he coughed as he brought his arm up to pet your head, knowing that you liked getting head pats when you were nervous.

“keigo, wait here okay? just wait i’ll go find that stupid villain and beat their ass okay?” he just nodded and let let his hands rest on his stomach.

—-

“KEIGO! keigo! i’m back! i beat the shit outta that guy and i called for an ambulance. you’re gonna be okay” you panted as you laid yourself right beside keigo’s figure.

he smiled at you and took your hand in his, rubbing smooth circles on your warm palm. keigo looked deathly pale. you sat up to inspect his injuries and saw that his jacket was soaked in his own blood.

you couldn’t believe that you didn’t notice earlier. why didn’t he saying anything? or did he not even feel it anymore?

“k-keigo? talk to me okay? stay awake baby. stay awake for me” you cried as you placed his head onto your lap. he nodded slightly and coughed out a little blood, which you gently wiped away.

“you and i are gonna make the prettiest babies one day. i’m so thankful that you came into my life. without you, i would’ve stayed lost. *cough* you made my days so much brighter pretty bird. i can’t w-wait to marry you one day” he wheezed, mustering up a smile.

this only made you cry harder.

“yes my love, we will. i’m gonna marry you kei. i’m gonna give you the family that you want. we’re gonna name our first son enji right? you’re such an endeavour fanboy. i remember when you told me that i got so upset beca-“ you cut yourself off when you noticed that hawks had gone silent.

“kei? keigo? why am i the only one talking keigo? keigo please. please you can’t leave me. keigo i love you. i’m so sorry baby. please. keigo.” you sobbed, holding his now cold body closer to yours. you heard the ambulances arriving. but it was already too late. he was gone.

“it’s always gonna be you keigo” you whispered as you pressed a one last kiss on his forehead.

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (2)

       jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: sassy!jungkook vs sassy!MC, mentions of drunk driving

words: 5.2k

         chapter two

The hospitals were usually glum and even off-putting and yet when you showed up to pay Jungkook an obligatory visit the next day after the party – because for reasons beyond you, you felt like you had to see him at least once to make sure he really was okay even though the paramedics that pulled him out of the totaled car had already told you he’d be fine – it felt like you were on set of a medical drama.

The entire hallway where Jungkook’s hospital room was located was full of people who weren’t there to visit but rather to make sure that the sole heir of JJ Holdings was not disturbed or, God forbid, photographed. The tabloids were already speculating what had to have happened to him to make him crash his car so close to his own house, and, frankly, there weren’t a lot of answers that made sense.

And yet, despite that, Jungkook’s family fought their hardest and denied every accusation, claiming that their beloved son, their youngest family member, could never drive under the influence and that it was, really, the horrible weather conditions to blame.

It had been a clear night – albeit a little windy – but you knew better than to get involved in this.

You had assumed that this situation had to have set Jungkook’s family on edge but then his mother enveloped you in a warm hug as soon as she saw you, so maybe not. You’d always liked her – it was Jungkook’s father that intimidated you – so you didn’t mind the fact that you hadn’t seen her since you went off to college three years ago.

“It’s so sweet of you to come,” she said kindly, but she seemed surprised to learn that you knew of her son’s accident.

It took you a while to understand why that was – as it turned out, in the wild chaos that erupted when Jungkook was brought to the hospital, no one bothered to ask who had called the ambulance. And it didn’t really matter anyway, you supposed. Maybe you shouldn’t have even come.

“It’s nothing,” you said with a polite smile. “How is he?”

“Oh, he’s alright,” she said and, just like with Jungkook last night when you’d asked him how his mom was doing, her answer was automatic. He could have been in a grave condition and she’d have still smiled and said that her son was doing just fine.

His family was constantly playing a role for other people. Most of the time, they acted like they walked on paths covered entirely in rose petals, and that nothing could ever inconvenience them. 

It was painful to see that she felt the need to keep the act around you too, but, then again, your mother was now the only one that was still in touch with Jungkook’s family, so that made you an outsider.

“Can I see him?” you asked, starting to feel more awkward by the second. “I brought some comfort food. Even though I don’t know if he even likes this anymore—”

“He’ll really appreciate it,” his mother cut you off and, maybe it was just wishful thinking on your part, but it sounded like she meant it. “His dad is there with him right now but it’s been a while, so you can probably go in there, too. Maybe they both fell asleep.”

You doubted that very much – the Jungkook you used to know never lowered his guard around his father, at least not enough to fall asleep in his presence – but you swallowed whatever objections you may have had and simply nodded.

“Okay, thank you,” you said and walked past her towards Jungkook’s hospital room.

You had to round a corner to reach it and, as soon as you did, you felt yourself exhale in relief. You’d forgotten what it was like to be around Jungkook’s family. Constantly participating in their game of we-are-a-perfect-family-please-oh-please-believe-us was exhausting.

You were about to knock on the door, the chocolates you’d brought for Jungkook clutched tightly in your hand – you felt stupid to have brought them now because, really, what were the odds that he still liked the same candy as he did when he was 12? – when you heard talking inside and stopped short.

Clearly, Jungkook and his father were very much awake and, by the sound of it, currently in the middle of a very heated discussion (because the Jeon family never argued, they just talked louder than usual sometimes).

“I’m tired,” his father was saying. You debated if you should walk away or just wait it out in case their exchange was coming to an end. “I’m sick of this, you hear me? How many times have you tried to sabotage everything we’ve worked for? How many times—”

Inhaling sharply, you pulled away from the door and leaned against the opposite wall instead. You hoped you couldn’t hear them from over there but, unfortunately – or, perhaps, luckily – you still could. And, before you even considered returning to Jungkook’s mother to wait with her, you were already too curious to move.

Yes, you were the cat, and you knew you were about to get killed. But, oh, the satisfaction!

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said quietly inside of the hospital room and you could almost see the shame all over his face. He had never lived up to his father’s expectations but this seemed to be the last straw.

“Listen to what I say because I am not going to repeat myself,” his father said as a nurse walked past you and you had to pull your phone out to pretend that you weren’t being nosy. “You can forget all about the company – hell, you can forget all about your own future if you keep going like this.”

“Dad—”

“You’re still so young but it’s like you’re purposefully looking for a tragic end of your life,” Jungkook’s father continued, not letting his son interject, “you’ve been acting like a completely brainless idiot ever since you started high school and, you know what, now it’s time you stopped. You’re in college now and I’m done watching you destroy yourself and our legacy.”

“I’m an adult,” Jungkook said, sounding very much like a child, “you can’t tell me how to live my life.”

His father laughed and you could have shivered if you weren’t so busy pretending not to be listening as nurses and doctors coursed back and forth in the hallway.

“You’re also my son,” he said then and it would have been a very nice gesture if he stopped there. But he didn’t. “And the heir to our family’s company. What you do is a reflection of us, and your latest stunt will certainly paint us in the most beautiful colors. So, you can think you’re the only one responsible for your life all you want, but the truth is, you’ll always be tied to the rest of us.”

“Right,” Jungkook lost the previous restraints he had, “so, what? Will you have me drop out of college so you can supervise my every move, starting now?”

“Absolutely not,” his father replied. “You went to university to learn how to run a business, to gain leadership skills, to learn how to be a proper grown-up. You might be an heir, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get to sit back and relax while money falls from the trees around you.”

“I know that,” Jungkook said and you knew he meant it. His parents had taught him to work hard since day one – surely not a lot of toddlers learned how to read even before they stopped using the potty.

“You don’t know anything. Don’t embarrass me by saying you do,” his father countered. “You haven’t put any actual work towards your future. You’ve got that band of yours, which is all good, there’s nothing wrong with having a hobby—”

“It’s not—”

“—but if that’s the reason why you’re in this situation right now,” his father continued, not even hearing Jungkook object, “then maybe it’d be better if you focused on your studies instead. Otherwise, I don’t see the point why you should join the company this summer.”

It was quiet for a while after that and you thought they finished talking. You even put your phone away, ready to head down the hallway and act like you just got here, but then Jungkook spoke up again.

“The things that I do in college,” he said slowly, “will not interfere with my job at the company.”

“You can forget that job – and any other job, actually – if you don’t pull yourself together,” his father said.

“Well, what should I do, then?” Jungkook asked. “What do I have to do to prove to you that I don’t need to pull anything together because I’m fine? It’s just that you--”

“Admitting that you’re not fine would be the first step.”

“I-I’m serious,” he said, sounding a little more discouraged now. “What should I do?”

“Well, you’re an adult,” his father said, using his own words against him. “Why don’t you figure that out yourself?”

The room fell silent again and, a few moments later, you heard footsteps approaching the door of Jungkook’s hospital room. Jumping away from the wall, you jogged down the opposite hallway and only turned around when you heard the door open. But Jungkook’s father left the room and walked away without bothering to even glance your way.

When he disappeared behind the corner, you stopped behind Jungkook’s open door, not daring to enter just yet. You felt even less confident about being here now that you’d overheard his conversation with his father but you only had yourself to blame for that – you could have walked away as soon as you realized they were still talking.

The saying should have mentioned that curiosity may not have necessarily killed the cat, but it certainly made it feel very uncomfortable.

Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself and gave the door of his room a gentle knock before poking your head inside. Jungkook was laying down, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, but he lifted himself up on his elbows when he saw you.

“Wow,” he said and a smile crept up to his bruised face, “you’re the last person I expected to see here.”

If you hadn’t just witnessed the fiery scolding he’d received from his father, you would have never been able to tell that something happened. Acting must have been in his blood as he continued to smile while you entered the room and closed the door.

You had to admit, he looked much better today – excluding the saline drip next to his bed, the fresh stitches on his forehead, and the several cuts and bruises scattered all over his face, of course – but that had to be due to the fact that his face was no longer stained with fresh blood.

“I felt like I had to come since I was the one who called the ambulance and then refused to ride with you to the hospital,” you explained yourself.

“Thanks,” Jungkook said, teasing. “I appreciate that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you’d expected this reaction, “it was already awkward enough to talk to you after so long, I didn’t think we were close enough for a ride in the ambulance together.”

“But we’re close enough for you to visit me in the hospital?”

“Like I said, I felt bad.”

“You should,” he said with ease. “I could have died.”

You rolled your eyes. “Your injuries weren’t that bad. The car took the brunt of it.”

“How do you know that?”

You asked the paramedics, that’s how – although, that was a massive understatement. What you really did was cry and beg them to tell you if Jungkook was alive – you even pulled on the sleeves of their jackets like a child, demanding attention – but you’d never admit it out loud.

In your defense, Jungkook’s entire face was bloody when the paramedics pulled him out of the car – courtesy of the nasty cut on the upper corner of his forehead that the doctors have stitched up now – and he was unconscious so, really, your reaction was completely rational, all things considered.

“I asked before they took you away, of course,” you responded simply. “I’m not heartless.”

“Well, that’s good to know, then,” he said. “And, for what it’s worth, I would have definitely taken the ambulance with you if our situations were reversed.”

“It’s not worth anything because there’s no way our situations would ever be reversed. I’m smart enough not to drive when I’m drunk,” you said and he was the one to roll his eyes this time, “and, anyway, you had your members in the ambulance with you. It would have been suffocating with me there, too.”

He didn’t respond but kept his eyes on you and the same awkwardness you’d felt in the hallway outside of his hospital room returned. 

You couldn’t seem to find a place to settle in – there was only one chair in the room and it had his jacket laying across it; you didn’t dare move it – so you stood still, switching your weight between one leg to the next, while his eyes burned into you.

“I… I brought you something,” you finally managed to say – mostly because the chocolates in your hands were now in danger of melting due to how hard your palms were sweating. “It’s not—”

You had extended your hand to put the candy on the cupboard next to his bed and, as soon as he noticed them, he didn’t even wait for you to finish.

“You remembered!” his cry reminded you of the nine-year-old Jungkook who’d stuff his face with these chocolates until he couldn’t even breathe anymore. You stopped and turned to look at him in surprise. “Oh, man, I haven’t had these in so long. Where did you even find them?”

“I know a store,” you said with a soft smile. You put the candy down and took a step back, feeling even more out of place now that your hands were empty. “I—”

“Well, sit, have one,” he encouraged, leaning out of bed to pick his jacket up from the chair, and tossing it on the floor instead. The catheter in his hand must have strained his skin as he did that but Jungkook didn’t let it show. “Mind you, I said one. I’m selfishly saving the rest of them for myself because I am barely getting fed here.”

You chuckled. “That’s okay, you can have all of them. Is the hospital food really that bad?”

“Oh, don’t get me started,” he groaned, unwrapping the candy and putting it in his mouth while you sat down on the now empty chair.

He closed his eyes as soon as the chocolate touched his tongue, leaning back and sighing blissfully – but just loudly enough so you’d know how much he had missed the taste – in a way that made you look down and swallow heavily, your nails digging into the soft material of the chair.

“This is heaven,” he spoke up after a moment and you didn’t dare to tell him that it wasn’t the candy that was heavenly but rather the sight of him enjoying it so much. “It completely makes up for you abandoning me when I was dying.”

You groaned but Jungkook saw the small smile that managed to make its way to your lips. “You weren’t dying. Why are you being so dramatic?”

“Because I need pity,” he confessed, making it all sound like a joke even though you had a feeling there was more than just a pinch of truth in his words. “None of my friends came to see me. Looks like I really fucked up this time, huh?”

That surprised you. “What do you mean? They went with you when they took you to the hospital.”

“No, I don’t mean my members,” he shook his head, “they were here this morning but I made them go home and clean. I meant my other friends.”

“Oh,” you looked down, unsure if you were in any position to comfort him. “Maybe they’re busy?”

“Please,” he scoffed, unwrapping another chocolate, “it’s Saturday. They may be hungover but they’re definitely not busy.”

“Well, in that case,” you said, “maybe they’re not really your friends.”

“Yeah, I came to that conclusion, too,” he said, toying with the candy instead of putting it in his mouth. Bits of chocolate stuck to his warm fingertips and he licked them off before turning to look at you only to catch you watching him. You looked away when your eyes met, though, so you didn’t get to see the pleased grin that appeared on his face. “So, what are you up to? I thought your schedule was full until graduation?”

You smiled, recalling your words at his party.

“Your drunk-driving incident made me push some things around,” you played along, not missing the chance to scold him. Jungkook just rolled his eyes and popped the chocolate into his mouth. “So, you should consider yourself special.”

“I definitely do,” he said, putting the wrappers down on the cupboard next to his bed. “It’s weird to see you like this. I don’t mean here, but just… not in a hurry, you know? I thought you had classes every day of the week, weekends included.”

You had no idea he ever gave your schedule any thought – and hearing that he did made your stomach twist in ways you’d rather it didn’t – so you weren’t prepared for this. Taking your silence as uncomfortable, Jungkook tried to ease into the conversation differently.

“Are you still thinking of owning your own business?” he asked.

He remembered that and suddenly it was like your stomach had decided to tear itself into two.

“Sure,” you said with an awkward chuckle. “It’s definitely still one of the few things I’d like to do after graduation.”

“Good,” Jungkook said simply and, thus, reminded you of how long it’s been since you had last talked. Usually, whenever the topic would turn to you, wanting to own a business of your own, he’d always say, ‘you’re so bossy, so it would suit you.’ Now, however, he added a very considerate, “I know you’ll get to do it. You’re the kind of person that makes her dreams come true.”

Lowering your eyes – because you’d found that praise was hard to accept when it came from someone you were close to but it was even harder when it came from someone whom you used to be close to – you mumbled, “thanks.”

“It’s just the truth,” Jungkook replied with a shrug of his shoulders – it was an attempt to make you feel less awkward. He could see the way your whole body tensed up as soon as he mentioned how weird it was to see you.

“So, what about you?” you asked, turning the spotlight away from yourself. “Do you still want to be a worldwide famous superstar?”

He laughed, his childhood dream sounding ridiculous now. “No. I’m fine where I am right now.”

You smiled but your mind returned to the conversation you’d overheard before you came here.

Slowly, so as not to pour salt on an undoubtedly fresh wound, you asked, “what about the, uh, family company?”

Jungkook sighed. Not because he was angry at you for asking this question, but rather because it was a very natural question to ask, so – naturally – everyone around him always brought it up.

“What about it?” he asked you.

“Well, it’s a family business,” you shrugged, not wanting to put any extra pressure on him. “Your parents were always sort of prepping you for it.”

“Yeah,” he wasn’t looking at you anymore as his eyes settled on the corner of his hospital room. “They’re changing their minds about that.”

Feeling like you were committing a crime by sitting here and acting like you hadn’t just heard him talk to his dad about this, you proceeded nevertheless.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean… well, my mom definitely wants me to take over the business one day,” he said and, just like you remembered, his voice softened when he spoke about her, “she’s constantly talking about how proud of me she is – but you know my mom,” he paused to give you a knowing look and waited until you nodded before he continued, “she always had a lot of love to give so she wanted to have a lot of kids and, after that didn’t work out, she focused all of her love on me.”

“Yes, go ahead and blame your mother as the reason why you’re spoiled,” you teased.

“It’s the truth!” he insisted with an unexpected smile. “Anyway, she always wanted me to work in the company and—”

“What about you?” you cut him off.

Already lost in whatever he was going to say to you, Jungkook didn’t catch your question. “Hmm?”

“What do you want?” you asked again.

“I…” he considered this for a moment, not quite used to being asked about his own wishes when he lived in a family that essentially decided everything for him, “I guess I just don’t want to let her down,” he said finally. “My dad, however… he—well, let’s just say he doesn’t really think I’d make a suitable employee, let alone a CEO.”

Unable to resist it, you bit, “hmm, I wonder what could have lead him to feel that way.”

“I know, I know, there’s no need to sound so condescending,” he rolled his eyes – in that same bratty way that you remembered; no one could ever tell this boy anything without him getting offended – and then sighed. “I haven’t been the ideal son.”

It was hard not to allow your memories to overwhelm you – because of how many times you’d been in this same position before: finding Jungkook cooped away somewhere after an argument with his father and trying to cheer him up with his favorite chocolates – but you tried to focus on the present.

“I’m sure you’re trying your best,” you ended up telling him because that was something you were supposed to tell someone who was having a hard time. 

Jungkook chuckled at the optimistic statement.

“Not really,” he said then, “I’m not trying at all. I’ve just been doing whatever I want to do and, I don’t know, I guess I wasn’t really thinking of the consequences. Or, rather, I didn’t care about them because—well, because I was satisfied with my life,” he continued to talk and you were starting to feel your pulse in your throat because it’s been seven years – seven fucking years – since you’ve heard him confess something so personal and it was almost suffocating, “but then my dad—oh, you should have heard him today. It was one of the more severe variations of the Jeon Concerto in A Major.”

The comparison got you to smile despite the seriousness of the conversation. “It was that bad?”

“Worse,” Jungkook assured you. “He kept going at it for hours. Actually, he left, like, two minutes before you came in, so my head is still sort of pounding.”

You knew that, of course, but you didn’t say so.

“Are you sure it’s not from the hangover?” you asked instead.

He took the jab with dignity, smiling as he nodded, “that, too.”

Gathering his thoughts for a moment – as he played with the frayed edges of the hospital blanket – Jungkook stayed silent and, when he started to speak again, his voice made it clear how desperately he was trying to make light of a situation that had clearly wounded him much more than the accident last night had.

“My dad, uh—he told me to suck it up and get my shit together,” he said. “And that’s almost a direct quote, by the way. I think he’s been holding it in for a while now and today he just exploded.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t given him reasons to yell at you before,” you said.

“Oh, no I’ve given him plenty of reasons,” Jungkook said, “you know he’s not one to refuse a good yell. I just didn’t give him any opportunities,” he stopped and, just when you began to frown in confusion, he explained himself, “I… I moved out of my parents’ house in my junior year of high school and I’ve only been home a handful of times since then.”

It hurt to hear that for some reason. You hadn’t heard much about him ever since he stopped talking to you in the ninth grade but you figured that was just your mom filtering out any information about Jungkook that she learned from his mom. You had no idea that it was really because Jungkook was deliberately distancing himself from his whole family, not just from you.

It hurt because you were once best friends and then you went seven years without speaking to one another only to end up talking again in a hospital room.

It hurt because of how easily the two of you returned to your natural rhythm, how simply you recognized each other’s facial expressions, how normal this felt.

“What about your mom?” you asked in a croaked voice. Your throat was closing up and there was no concealing that. “Doesn’t she miss you?”

If Jungkook noticed the ball in your throat, he didn’t make it known.

“She probably does but she’s never said anything. I think she understands that I had no other choice,” he said instead. “I’d have gone insane in that house with my dad. You know we never spoke the same language.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “but maybe it’s because neither one of you ever tried to understand the other.”

“Maybe,” he sighed, laying back down on the bed and shuffling around under the blanket until he got comfortable, “probably.”

“That’s a good place to start, isn’t it?” you said, your tone far too hopeful and optimistic – all because you were trying to refrain from getting emotional. “To get your life together, I mean.”

“What?” he turned his head on the pillow so he could face you. You looked down immediately. “You mean, listen to my dad and obey him blindly?”

“No—well, not necessarily. Just… talk to your parents more,” you shrugged, “find a way to communicate with them both and let them know what’s going on in your life. I think you really hurt them by disappearing on them like that and then resurfacing again in the hospital.”

You lied. You didn’t think. You were sure. Because he didn’t just hurt them, he hurt you, too.

Your first conversation in seven years ended with him drunkenly crashing his car into a tree trunk – or was it a lamp post that he didn’t notice? – and now you had to clutch the seat of the chair you were sitting on with all of your might so you wouldn’t start crying. You couldn’t even understand why your eyes were getting watery but they were and you really needed him to look away.

“Hmm, I—I didn’t really think of it like that,” Jungkook admitted and – mercifully – looked back up at the ceiling.

Sniffling as quietly as you could, you added another teasing dig, “maybe also consider drinking less.”

“Yeah, no, funnily enough, I figured I’d have to do that myself,” he replied and you snickered, only daring to look up again when you were sure your tears, that had rushed to the surface, finally receded.

“Good to know you do have a functioning brain despite making it seem like you didn’t last night,” you told him – because you had to – and he glared at you instead of replying, but he did hear what you were saying. He understood.

You wanted to properly lecture him about his reckless behavior but right now you weren’t in the best position to explain your aggressive need for him to start thinking before he acted – and, technically, you had no reason to care about him that much, anyway – so, you took a deep breath, blinked several times to make sure you really weren’t going to start crying, and then started to speak.

“I hope that… uh, no matter what you decide to do and however you choose to handle this thing with your parents,” you swallowed and the words were unexpectedly hard to say, “I hope that you don’t get behind the wheel of a car while drunk again.”

Jungkook looked at you for a long time before speaking and you lost yourself in his eyes like you had done countless of times before. And how could you not when you were faced with his already legendary gaze; the one that controlled entire crowds at Parental Advisory gigs?

You couldn’t see your reflection so you didn’t know, but Jungkook had noticed the redness of your eyes. He noticed the slight puffiness that appeared on your cheeks. He’s seen you cry before, he knew all the signs.

But he was also aware of the gap in your friendship and the tightrope that the two of you were walking over it – he didn’t dare to bring your crying up and risk throwing both of you down into the pit of not-talking again.

“I won’t,” he said instead, his voice gentle. “I promise.”

As he said this, you realized that, perhaps the reason why you felt like crying was because you knew that the second you’d walk out of his hospital room, the two of you would go back to your seven-year-long silence. 

Even though you’d had no problems reconnecting today, it was just one day. It would end tomorrow and, eventually, the connection that you’d had and the friendship that you’d developed as kids, would turn into a distant memory. You’d return to your world and he’d return to his and, even though you both lived on the same campus, you might as well have lived on two different planets.

But, even though that hurt, perhaps it was for the best. It was painfully pointless to carry hopes of a restored friendship when it was almost doomed to end eventually. He’d stopped talking to you once, he could do it once more.

So, you wanted to cry now and then put this weekend-from-hell behind you, so you wouldn’t have to cry later, after losing Jungkook again.

keep reading | masterlist

[geraskier-hell]

“Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? ‘Cause if you did we’re having sex. Right now.” ((For the prompts. geraskier ofc. ))

Thank you for the prompt! This got quite long so I’m only posting the first two sections of the one shot here, and you can read the rest on AO3 :)

Smoke is snaking its way down Jaskier’s lungs, replacing the oxygen in them. He leans against the wall as another coughing fit stops him in his way to the door, and he bends in half while he tries to breathe normally again. The unbearable heat of the room doesn’t help, and a hint of panic tugs at his stomach. Is this where he is going to die?

He refuses to let the fire win, and with major efforts he starts walking again only to be stopped by another wall of flames. If he ever finds out who in his apartment complex decided to leave the stove on unguarded, he is going to give them a piece of his mind. If he gets out of this alive, that is.

His vision starts to blur, and the smoke hides the path ahead. Jaskier is covered in sweat by now, and the panic from before is turning into actual terror. He really is going to die here. He starts crying, this isn’t how it was supposed to go, he had plans and ambitions for the future, but it all looks so far away now, a dream from which he is about to wake up.

In his confused state he thinks he hears voices and steps, but he is slowly losing consciousness and doesn’t know what is reality and what an illusion anymore. There is a bang and then quick footsteps before he is being carried out of the apartment. He opens his eyes, eyelids so heavy it feels like lifting a house. When he sees the person carrying him, he is certain he has died. He isn’t too sure he deserves to go to heaven, but the man holding him between his arms has the eyes of an angel.

He passes out for a brief moment and when he wakes up next, he is in an ambulance, a man with white hair and a woman around him. He recognises the golden eyes of the man from before and stares at him in his state of confusion. He hears him talk but doesn’t really catch what he is saying, too busy with his scrutiny. He is even more handsome than he anticipated, and he can’t tear is gaze away, not even when the man looks back at him.

He says something, Jaskier is sure of it, but he doesn’t know precisely what. The man repeats himself, checking Jaskier’s body from head to toe and then licks his dry lips. He is probably just making sure everything is okay with Jaskier after the fire, but the gesture is so sexy Jaskier’s clouded mind goes in an entirely different direction.

“Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? ‘Cause if you did, we’re having sex. Right now.”

The man blinks a few times and even the woman with him stops to look at him, half amused, half surprised by Jaskier’s comment.

“This one has inhaled too much smoke,” the firefighter says, and now that he has regained a bit of consciousness, Jaskier can understand what he’s talking about.

“Not at all, I clearly saw you checking me out and then biting your lip.”

“Your vision is still blurred from the smoke,” the man replies in a blank voice. “I think it’s best if you take him to the hospital, Triss.”

“Yes, Geralt,” the woman retorts with an amused smirk on her lips. “Don’t you want to go with him?”

Geralt glares at her and doesn’t spare even a glance to Jaskier as he hops down the ambulance.

“No, wait, I was serious,” Jaskier calls after him, coughing more smoke out. “I’m really up for it if you want.”

Triss chuckles. “Try asking him again when you can breathe properly,” she says before placing an oxygen mask on Jaskier’s face.

Jaskier whines and his eyes don’t leave the figure walking away from him until the doors of the ambulance close to take him to a hospital.

 A few weeks pass before Jaskier has fully recovered from the incident and it will take many more before he can go back to his apartment again, so he has to live with an aunt that has a house in the area. Some friends have offered to lend him their couch, but Jaskier doesn’t want to impose and his new house is closer to his workplace.

It is also very near the fire station and that’s the main reason why he decides to move there. During his recovery, he has never stopped thinking about the firefighter that saved his life nor has he forgotten how much of a fool he was after that. He blames it entirely on the smoke that didn’t let the oxygen go to his brain, but he has to admit that it was mostly his subconscious speaking out loud. The man really did look too good to be of this world, and partially to apologise for his behaviour and partially to see him once more, the first thing he does when leaving the hospital is going to the fire station.

He doesn’t have a speech prepared nor a list with bullet points he’d like to cover, so his stomach isn’t entirely calm when he buzzes the station.

“Yes?” a voice says over the intercom.

“Ehm, hello,” Jaskier replies. “Is Geralt here?”

“Do you have an emergency, sir?”

“No, not really, I just want to talk to him about a fire that happened at my place some weeks ago.”

“If there’s a problem with what happened, you should talk to the police.”

Jaskier groans. Why is this man being so good at his job?

“No, no, I just want to talk to Geralt personally for a moment if it’s possible.”

“I’ll see if he can meet you,” the man eventually replies and cuts the conversation.

Jaskier waits in front of the gate, pacing in front of it for what feels like an eternity while his mind is invaded by all sorts of thoughts. He shouldn’t have come, what was he thinking? The firefighter is probably busy or has forgotten about him, and Jaskier really should have stayed home instead of risking to make a fool of himself once again, but it’s too late now, the gate is opening and the man with white hair is looking at him.

He is wearing his uniform - God bless - and Jaskier doesn’t regret having come anymore.

“Hello,” he greets, walking up to him. “I don’t know if you remember me, but you saved me some weeks ago when my apartment complex was burning down. I’m Jaskier.”

“Yes, I remember you,” Geralt replies, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Is there an issue with the rescue?”

“No, no, I didn’t come for this at all, you were great actually, so much that I was wondering if you’d like to go get a coffee together as a thank you from me.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow, but his face turns into a blank expression immediately after. “There’s no need for that, I was just doing my job.”

“Yes, I know, but I’d still like to thank you,” Jaskier insists, rubbing his nape. “And I also wanted to apologise for how I behaved afterwards.”

“No need to do either.”

The emotionless tone in Geralt’s voice takes Jaskier aback, and he doesn’t know what to say to convince him to accept his offer.

A siren pierces through the awkward silence between them, and a determined expression morphs Geralt’s features.

“I have to go,” he says before running back inside the station.

Jaskier would like to call him back, but once again all he can do is to watch him leave.

Continue on AO3

[realm-sweet-realm]

Close Call

Okay, so this is going to be heavier than the stuff I usually write. If that’s not your cup of tea, don’t worry! I have something much more fun and visceral in the works and I plan on dropping it next Wednesday (nine days from now).

---

It was the early morning hours when Shawn returned home from a night of drinking like any other. He and Grant and Lacie had played cards, pool, and darts (the latter they'd played in such a state of intoxication that it was lucky they hadn't hurt anyone). Shawn was glad that Grant had showed up this time. They'd been dating for several months now and probably still were. It was hard to tell. Grant hadn't had the time or "hadn't been up" to going out anywhere in a month, and it had Shawn wondering if he'd just tapped out of the relationship. He had seemed worse for wear lately and of course things at Joey Drew Studios hadn't gotten easier on anyone, so maybe he wasn't lying. At very least, this night had been great, just like things had been before (well, before Grant left a bit early in tears. Sometimes booze just did that to him and he needed to sleep it off), so maybe everything was about to go back to normal. On that comforting note, Shawn dragged himself to bed.

Shawn was awoken by the ringing of his phone. The voice on the other side struck him with fear- it was Grant, and he sounded terrified.

"Shawn, get over here right now. I did something stupid. Please, come here. Help me."

"I'll be right there," Shawn promised.

The door to Grant's house was unlocked. The house was deafeningly silent.

"Grant?" Shawn called. Nothing. Shawn checked around the house. Once he came upon the bathroom, which reeked of alcohol and vomit, he knew he'd found the place. Clicking the lights on, he found his boyfriend passed out face-down on the floor, surrounded by empty or half-empty bottles of pills.

The next twenty minutes were an absolute blur, not helped by the substantial amount of alcohol still in Shawn's system. Shawn remembered calling an ambulance and waiting for it to arrive with his boyfriend unconscious in his arms. He remembered picking up two sheets of paper, which he'd vaguely identified as a suicide note, from the floor. He remembered crying, and panicking, and confusion. Soon enough, though, Shawn was being reassured by a paramedic that given how recently he'd consumed the pills, Grant would almost definitely make it.

The next day, Shawn took out the letter. It had clearly been written ahead of time, unless one of Grant's hidden talents was managing such neat handwriting while heavily drunk. Shawn wondered if that meant that Grant had planned to do this. Slowly, he forced himself to consume its contents, line by line.

If you are reading this letter, I am dead of suicide. I promised myself that I'd never do this. It's been a temptation at the back of my mind for long enough, however, that I thought I should get out what I would want to have out, just in case. I feel like if it ever does happen, it will be in a moment where I'm barely in control of myself.

The first thing I'm going to do is to write out why I promised myself I wouldn't. There are three reasons why. The first is because my mother is the kindest, most loving person in the world, and I know she'd be devastated if I killed myself. There's a good chance she'd end up dead of suicide as well in that situation, and I would never want to cause that. The second reason is for the light of my life, Emily. She has so much promise in her. She has my eyes, the curiousity I had when I was younger, and thankfully just a touch of my sensitivity. She loves me, and I'm trying to be the force for good in her life that my mother was in mine. I would never give her the pain of losing a parent, and I want to see her grow up. The third reason is that I have friends that make me happy, and days when I genuinely want to be alive. Sometimes it feels like life is drudgery, but that's when I most need to remember that it isn't always like that.

Unfortunately, because this will be written ahead of time, I won't be able to say what specifically caused me to go through with this. What I will say, though, is that my life feels like it's falling apart, even when it isn't. My worries about losing my job aren't completely unfounded, given that working at Joey Drew Studios is most often like bailing water out of a sinking ship. I don't know how realistic it is to believe that my career in this industry will be over after that, since I'll have two failed businesses on my record and nothing else. It's hard to tell when I'm being realistic and when I'm letting pessimism get the better of me. I worry constantly about losing the people in my life that make it tolerable, and I don't know if that's realistic either- whether they're getting sick of me or not. Sometimes, it feels like like life is a pointless struggle against the inevitable. I have better days and worse days of course, but, well, if I didn't feel like this a substantial amount of the time, I wouldn't be writing this letter.

Whoever it is that's reading this, you could not have prevented this, it is in no way your fault, and I'm sorry for putting you through it.

—-

There was a banging on Lacie's door. "Lacie! Lacie, open up!"

Lacie, groggy and still in her pyjamas, opened up. "What?"

"I need your advice. Badly."

Lacie could see how distressed he was. "Come on in."

A few minutes later, They were sitting across from each other in Lacie's living room, Shawn had explained what had happened the night before, and Lacie had read the note. It might have been a violation of privacy to show it to Lacie, but he needed her advice.

"Wow, that is serious. Is he okay?"

"Yeah, that's the way they made it sound. I'm going to see him as soon as there's visitin' hours. Just... what do I say to him after this?"

"I don't know."

"Well, if it were Abby what would you do?"

"Abby wouldn't put me in this situation." Lacie saw Shawn getting indignant. "Calm down, I'm not saying 'because she's so strong and he's so weak.' But we've been together for two years, we live together, and we're at the stage where we owe it to each other to look after ourselves and be honest if we're going through issues like this. So, yeah, she'd never catch me off guard like this. Clearly, you two aren't at that point, or at least he doesn't think you are. So, here's my advice: make sure he's getting professional help, and then ask yourself if this is the person you want a partnership with. Also, to temper your expectations: whatever his problem is, you can't solve it, it won't go away immediately, and it's ultimately his responsibility to fix it. If he won't be honest with you about stuff like this, you're under no obligation to help him with it. Honestly, if you do stick with him, chances are that nothing in your relationship will change and in a couple weeks this'll just be an awful memory."

"Well, that's a bunch of heartless nonsense. But you're probably right." Shawn honestly didn't know how to feel about any of it, but he felt like he had to say something. He didn't find it terribly useful since his problem wasn't that he didn't know whether to stay with Grant, it was that he didn't want him to die or to want to be dead.

Lacie shrugged. "I mean, I'm just an untrusting old sea hag. If all you want is dating, or if you honestly think a partnership with him is possible and a good idea, knock yourself out, I guess."

"Okay." Shawn got up to leave.

"Hey. Best of luck, Shawn. I'm always here for you. No matter what you choose to do, here."

—-

Grant was still asleep when Shawn was allowed in to see him, but there weren't any obvious signs of physical damage on him. Shawn gently shook him awake. "Hey... ah just wanted to check in and make sure everything was okay with you. Ya gave me quite a scare last night."

Grant turned to look at him. His movements suggested that he was feeling pretty weak from whatever he'd taken last night. "Oh. Hey, Shawn. According to the nurses, I'm fine. I have to stay a few more hours to get tested for organ damage, but that's it. What... happened last night? I remember I was with you for a while. How did I end up here?"

Oh, Shawn did not like this situation. He didn't like it at all. "How much do you remember?"

"I was drinking with you and Lacie for a while. And... I had a dream last night where I killed myself. But it had to have been a dream, see? I woke up for a minute and I felt you holding me. You must have come home with me after we went to the bar, right?"

"Oh, well, yes. That's what happened. But you... you got alcohol poisoning."

Relief rushed over Grant's face. "Thank God. That's all it was?"

"Yeah. You were trying to keep up with me shot for shot." Shawn gave Grant a little jab with his elbow in a sad attempt to act casual. "Ya really shouldn't do that. I'm a professional, after all."

Grant forced a smile. "Got it."

"Umm... listen, Grant? I love you, and I care about you, and you said some pretty concernin' things last night. Is there anything you need to talk about?"

"No, I'm okay. Sorry for worrying you."

"No. It's fine. Ya want company?"

"Honestly, I'm feeling pretty sick. Can we catch up another time?"

"Okay. See you then."

"Okay. I love you, Shawn."

Shawn got up and left. In the hallway, he dug the note out of his pocket and looked at it one last time, trying to wrack up the courage to go back and admit everything. Instead he crumpled it up and threw it away. Nothing had happened last night. Soon, Grant would go home, find the empty pill bottles on his bathroom floor, connect the dots, and knowing him, probably keep that revelation to himself. And that was okay, right? As Lacie said, it was his responsibility to take it as a wake-up call and deal with whatever it was that had made him do it. Lacie would think this was okay, right? Shawn hoped so. It felt so wrong.

[justanotherwriter-fangirl]

Handle It (K. S.)

Words: around 2k words

Warnings: A little bit of hostage/kidnap situation, some blood and injuries but nothing serious.

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m so excited because I feel like I’m really back on track writing, also this is my first Kelly Severide one shot and I got so carried away that I really can’t believe I wrote so much, so I hope you really like it and enjoy it. As always, requests are open and if you have some feedback I’d really appreciate it <3

Gif obtained from Google. All credits to its owner.

Thanks for reading _______________________ Being a detective wasn´t always easy but you loved it, ever since Hank Voight received you on the Intelligence Unit you have been the happiest you could ever be with your career, it was a great honor.

Unfortunately, your boyfriend didn’t see it the same way, “it’s very dangerous” was Kelly’s favorite reason to constantly check up on you, at first it was nice, you even thought it was sweet but now it just made you want to roll your eyes, he was a fire fighter for god’s sake, it was as dangerous as your job but of course he wouldn’t accept it, in his eyes a fire was nothing compared to a bullet. 

You loved him, you really did, but he needed to stop with all the overprotectiveness, you were trained to do your job, you could handle it and by now his constant calls were starting to be a problem, interrupting you at the worst possible moments because he had the perfect timing to call you when you were interrogating a suspect or working an undercover case.

The situation overall was making you very tense, especially because you could feel the penetrating look of your boss every time your phone ringed.

It was Tuesday morning and your week was getting already very difficult, a girl had been kidnapped and you knew time was the most important thing in this type of cases, the abduction had been reported barely 8 hours ago but you needed to hurry and so far you didn’t have any clues about her whereabouts.

While you were going over some papers regarding her parent’s statements a theory crossed your mind, his dad, a very important Chicago’s business man, had been preparing the inauguration of a new building, unfortunately he had to delay it because he realized the head of the construction team had been robbing him and just to be safe he fired everyone involved, leaving hundreds of persons without a job. It had to be one of them, angry for loosing their job and ready to take revenge.7

“I have something” you said out loud from your desk while standing up “Mr. Jackson said last night that he was with his lawyer while the abduction was taking place, that he had been receiving some anonymous threats but he never said why, right?”

“That’s right, he said that being as successful as him wasn’t something you achieved without making some people unhappy” commented Adam, now all eyes on you.

“Exactly, but if that’s so he has been receiving threats for years and nothing had ever happened, what changed now? The people he made unhappy this time” you could see the engines starting to spin in the team’s heads, how could you have not thought about this before? “In the past, all his victims were people like him, businessmen who ended up being con for trusting him too much, but at the end of the day, this people could live with their lost because they were rich anyway and they all had fancy lawyers to make something about it, but now he fired a bunch of construction employees, people who really needed the job to sustain their families, one of them probably snapped so all we need to do is find who can lose the most because of this”

After that, all happened in a blur, the time was running out and you needed to find the kidnapper before things got worse. 

Couple hours later Jay had found a man whose daughter was sick and required a very expensive treatment, the money from the construction contract was going to be almost enough to cover most of it, for the size of the job, but after they all got fired, he hadn’t been able to find a job who could even come close to cover the medical expenses, the man was desperate and desperate people do desperate things.

You were on Jay’s car on the way to the suspect’s house when your phone started to ring, letting out a sigh you picked it up without even looking at the caller ID, you already knew who was.

“Hey babe, how are you?” said lovingly Kelly, even when it was seriously a bad moment his voice brought a smile to your face, Jay looked at you sideways from the driver side.

“Hi babe, everything’s fine but this is really not a good time, we’re on our way to catch our perp, call you later, okay? Bye, love you” you ended up before receiving an answer, you felt a little bad for being kinda rude but it needed to be done, it was a very important case, you couldn’t let yourself get distracted, the life of a little girl was on the line.

“Severide, huh?” mentioned Jay with a smirk on his face.

“Shut up, Halstead” you answer playfully while rolling your eyes “just drive.”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything” he said laughing a little bit, his eyes on the road ahead “I just think is kinda sweet he always worries about you”

“It is but he has this very rare talent that makes him call me when we are doing something important, it stresses me out every time it happens in front of Voight.”

“Have you talked with him?”

“With Voight? No way”

“No, not Voight, with Severide.”

“Oh, yes, multiple times and I insist that his job is as dangerous as mine but he just don’t see it, I really don’t know what else to do to prove him that I can handle myself on the job”

“Give him time, (Y/N), I guess is not easy to wrap your mind around the idea that the girl you love puts her life on the line everyday”

“I guess.. I just need him to believe in me as much as I believe in him” letting out another sigh you turn around to look out the window when you realize you’re almost at the suspect’s house. 

“Are you ready?”

“Always am” finished Jay while parking in front of the house.

The possibility of the girl being there was slight but maybe you could fine the man to interrogate him or any other clue that could lead to her location.

As the team was reaching the door you heard a scream coming from the inside, everyone pulling their guns out and rushing to the entrance of the house as Voight started to yell instructions.

“Upton, Ruzek, back door, Atwater and Burgess, I want you searching the second floor the moment we got in, Halstead, (Y/L/N), with me”

“Stop!” Yelled a rough voice from the inside once you were on the porch “One step more and I’ll set the house on fire!”

“Listen to me, Jenkins, don’t do anything stupid, we just came here to talk” yelled Voight.

“Liar! I know why you’re here and let me tell you, you won’t find anything here”

“If that’s right then let us in and we can talk about it calmly”

“No, I don’t believe you! I won’t tell you where she is until you assure me that Jackson’s going to pay for my little girl’s treatment”

“I can’t do that, Jenkins, you need to give us the girl first” Voight tried to negotiate.

“No, I won’t. It’s too late now” he finished, raising tension over the whole team, that couldn’t be good.

As you were about to take down the door to get in, you heard an explosion, dropping to the ground you started to see the big flames coming from the top floors of the house and the strong smell of gasoline hit you all.

“5021 to central, send the fire department to North Hamlin 1100, now!”

5 minutes later the sirens of the fire department could be heard and Engine 51, Truck 81, Squad 3, Battalion 25 and Ambo 61 arrived at the scene yelling orders and getting ready to turn off the fire.

You saw Kelly the moment he got out of the truck, his eyes landing on you making sure you were okay, you were about to run to him when a sudden movement caught your eye, behind Kelly and his team, Jenkins appeared all dirty, coughing and raising a gun.

Your instinct kicked in and with a quick movement you fired your gun straight to his shoulder. 

“Get down, get down!” You yelled as you saw him pushed trough the pain on his shoulder and started to shoot at the air while he tried to escape.

One look at your team and you all knew what to do, Burgess and Atwater started to check on the firefighters and putting them out of the reach of the bullets while the rest of you started chasing him, guns up and ready to taking him down. 

Couple blocks down and he was forced to stop, out of breath, on the back of an ally, he was losing blood and he was in no condition to get away running.

“This is it, Jenkins, tell us where the girl is and everything will be easier for you” you said, slowly approaching him ready to fire your gun one more time in case it was needed.

“You are surrounded so drop the weapon and just come with us” complemented Jay from your left.

“Come on, let’s get you to a hospital, cooperate with us and we’ll talk to the D.A.” 

He was tired, you could see it in his eyes, he just wasn’t made for this, desperation made him do it and quite honestly, you felt bad for him, he wasn’t a bad man, he just had made one bad decision.

“Okay, I’ll tell you where she is but you have to promise me that they’ll take care of my daughter’s treatment, once I see something signed by Jackson saying that he’ll be responsible for it, I’ll tell you where to find her” said dropping the gun to the ground and raising his good arm.

You grabbed the gun as evidence while Adam got him from behind, putting his arms behind him and taking him to ambulance 61, his rights being read.

When you all got back to his house, there was no more fire and everyone was putting their equipment away. 

You passed the evidence to Hailey, putting your own gun away and ran a hand through your hair before going straight to Kelly, it had been a long day full of emotions and you were getting so tired. 

One look into your eyes and he was already opening his arms for you, you buried your head in his chest, breathing slowly to try to calm down your quick heartbeats, adrenaline leaving you as fast as it had come.

“I’m sorry for being rude earlier, hanging up the phone to you and all that” you said, you voice sounding muffled.

“It’s okay, babe, sometimes I forget how badass you are and I’m sorry too. You are busy saving lives and all I do is interrupt you” his arms gripping you tighter, never wanting to let you go.

“No, it’s fine, really. I love you and I get it, I worry about you too” taking a step back you take your time to look at him, his gorgeous eyes hypnotizing you and bringing a smile to your face, you couldn’t believe the man in front of you was all yours, he was strong, handsome, kind and above all so brave, it made your heart skip a beat and your breathing got caught up in your throat.

“Ha! I’m sure not as much as I do but I see it now, you are fucking good at your job, what you just did was so brave and a little bit hot, if I may say” he added winking you an eye and making you laugh a little bit, even after several months of relationship he kept flirting with you.

“I told you I can handle it” you said, flashing him a cocky smirk before you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck to brought him down to kiss him, no more words needed.

_______________________ Masterlist

[paulinedorchester]

London, July 1943: Excerpt from a work in progress

After nearly twenty minutes, Foyle decides that he might as well walk.

A cab pulls up at the entrance to the Victoria Coach Station every few minutes, but the drivers favour passengers in uniform. Difficult to resent that in wartime, but it quickly becomes clear that they’re really looking for the Americans – ready, willing and able to pay twice the normal fare. There are throngs of them in London: on leave, newly returned from North Africa, giddy with the success of the Sicily landings. Foyle keeps looking for familiar faces but sees none.

It’s barely a mile to Charles and Pamela’s place, if he recalls correctly, and it’s a fine day. After almost three hours cooped up in the coach it’ll do him good to stretch his legs. He hasn’t brought much with him and his suitcase is easy to lift. He picks it up and sets out.

Travel remains slow and uncomfortable, as it has been for the past few years. The discomfort is as much psychological as physical. Posters with such inscriptions as Must you travel? and Is your journey really necessary? are still displayed at every station, and Foyle had weathered a few cold stares from passers-by as he entered the coach stop at Hastings.

But it’s Charles and Pamela’s twentieth wedding anniversary on Saturday, and it had been kind of them to invite him. He really doesn’t feel the need for a change of scene, as they seem to feel he must, but he is curious to know what London looks and feels like with no official duties to discharge, even in the midst of the war.

And the war is everywhere he looks. Westminster has been spared neither bombing nor the depredations of the war effort. The railings have been removed from the familiar public garden he passes as he walks north along Buckingham Palace Road, and the garden has been cut up into allotments.

Buckingham Palace itself, he recalls as he makes his way past it, was hit repeatedly in 1940; it’s hardly a moldering ruin, but clearly only stopgap repairs have been carried out, the King and Queen waiting out the shortage of manpower and materials along with the rest of the country.

And as he walks across the Green Park he sees that it’s the public garden writ large: stripped of ironwork, much of the land being used to grow food.

At length – it’s a longer walk than he’d remembered, after all – he reaches Arlington Street and the drive in front of Arlington House. In 1936 Charles and Pamela had given up the fine Georgian house in Highgate that they’d taken before their son Alan was born and moved into a large flat in this mansion block, just completed at the time in the height of modern style. The move was a practical one, they had said: the place was and is an easy walk from the Admiralty, where Charles’ duties were demanding increasingly long days, and their daughter Averill’s school – now evacuated to Yorkshire – was also fairly close by.

Arlington House still stands, but it’s sandbagged and most of its metal ornament is gone. Some windows on the lower storeys, Foyle observes, have been blown out and boarded up.

‘My name is Christopher Foyle – I’m here to visit Commander and Mrs Howard,’ Foyle tells the elderly porter, who looks him up and down in an appraising way.

‘Yes, sir. They’re expecting someone by that name,’ the porter concedes, sounding a bit skeptical. At once he adds, ‘May I see your identity card, please?’

Foyle had suspected, and still suspects, that Pamela was privately relieved at the end of the Howards’ conventional existence in the suburbs. As he waits for the lift he reflects, not for the first time, that it’s hard to decide which seems more unlikely: her decision to leave her earlier life of vaguely Bohemian gentility for marriage to a Naval officer, or Charles’ choice of her as his wife.

Not that they aren’t well suited. They were both born into well-to-do families whose fortunes had been made during the previous century from the more refined aspects of trade: fine printing and engraving in the Howards’ case, textiles for the Fourniers. Pamela’s parents, though tolerant of their daughter’s artistic inclinations, had put the kibosh on her youthful ambition to become a ballet dancer.

Of age by the time the last war began, she had joined the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry, driving an ambulance between Calais and a point that was often unnervingly close to the front. After the war she’d been one of the countless women to whom marriage had seemed an unlikely prospect, if only given the small number of surviving men. Although she had no real need to earn her own living she’d found a position at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, as a Deputy Company Manager, the first woman ever to fill that role.

And then, one evening in 1922, she’d somewhat reluctantly accompanied her father to a banquet at Drapers’ Hall. There she had been seated to the left of 1st Lt Charles Howard, R.N., a junior executive officer in attendance to represent the office that supplied Naval uniforms, still a bachelor at nearly thirty-two. (Foyle has never been entirely clear about how old Pamela is.) They were married nine months later. The wedding was a spectacular business in a Regency chapel of ease in St John’s Wood; Andrew, five years old and saucer-eyed throughout his first visit to London, had been a pageboy.

The brevity of their courtship had caused some talk, according to Rosalind. Still, it was a conventionally appropriate match – but also, Foyle knows, a very happy one. Pamela found Charles bright, witty and kind as well as quite handsome. His determination to remain in the Navy – in the teeth of his family’s expectation that, as the only surviving son, he would return to civilian life and enter the family business – had struck a chord with her, even as the novelty of life as a mildly rebellious bachelor girl with a toe in the demi-monde was beginning to wear off. Charles’ sense of duty was counterbalanced, and his own long-neglected aesthetic interests reawakened, by Pamela’s creative impulses and artistic connections.

It is Pamela herself who answers the door of the flat and laughs gently when her brother-in-law is unable to conceal his surprise.

‘Jill was called up,’ she explains, ‘and there’s really no hope of replacing her. They’ve all been called up! Not to worry, though — I haven’t yet taken over the kitchen. Mrs Ellis is still with us, bless her, so we won’t starve! It’s awfully good to see you, Christopher, and I’m very glad you’ve come. It means a great deal to Charles, as it does to me.’

Rosalind and Pamela had taken to each other at once, and became quite firm friends, Foyle recalls.

Mrs Ellis brings in tea, apologises for its meagerness and withdraws to the kitchen.

‘Would you care for something a bit stronger than mere tea?’ Pamela enquires. ‘I can imagine that you might need it, after travelling in this day and age. There’s no whiskey of any description, I’m afraid, but we do have a bottle of rather good Portuguese sherry.’

‘Well, um, perhaps a very small glass. Thank you.’

Sounding less facetious, she asks after Andrew.

‘He’s, um, he’s well,’ Christopher replies. ‘Not that it’s easy on him – not that I wouldn’t prefer to see him in some sort of nice, safe job at a desk – but he holds up all right on the whole. How’s Alan?’

‘Happy as the day is long — adores the Royal Naval College, talks constantly about the Painted Hall, and is quite convinced that we’ll win the day just as soon as he’s on active service!’

‘That’ll be, um, another two years, won’t it?’

‘Quite right,’ Pamela says dryly. ‘A bit long to wait, in my opinion. He has a chit for the week-end. He’s asked after you.’

‘It’ll be very good to see him. What about Averill?’

‘I’m afraid not — she won’t be here, I mean. Keighly’s a long way off, fifteen’s a bit young for such a long journey on one’s own — as I see it, at any rate — and they’re keeping those girls busy year ’round there. We haven’t seen her since Easter — and we went there. Quite a trek in these conditions! But there’s some good news on that score — the school’s coming back to London in September. I don’t know that I was meant to tell you that,’ she adds, ‘but there it is.’

‘Is that wise?’

‘Charles and I have had a few conversations about that, I can tell you! But Keighly’s not all that far from either Bradford or Leeds, and they’ve both been Blitzed. I suppose that the governors think that they may as well take their chances! In any case the decision’s been made — and it’ll be marvelous to have her home.’

‘Of course. I understand you have a new job,’ Christopher adds.

‘Yes. I’m afraid I wasn’t much good at making Sten guns — they showed me the door, Christopher, to be perfectly honest! — so I’ve joined CEMA as a sort of manager-at-large.’

Christopher frowns, puzzled.

‘Seema?’ he asks. ‘Oh, the Committee, um... ’

‘Or the Council, as it is now, for the Encouragement of Music and Arts.’

‘That part of the Government?’

‘No, not as such. It was run strictly on private funds at first, but Parliament has awarded us a hundred thousand pounds per annum — and Mr Bevin absolutely loathes us!’ Pamela adds with great glee. ‘Some of the people we’ve reached,’ she continues, sounding more serious now, ‘have never seen a live performance of anything before — they’ve simply never had the opportunity — unless it was the village amateur dramatic society, I suppose. It’s truly wonderful, Christopher — we’ve had letters from people who tell us that we’ve opened up whole new worlds for them! War does break down barriers — as dreadful as it is to think of it doing anything beneficial!’

‘I’ve often heard – um, the young woman who was my driver – I’ve often heard her say much the same thing.’

‘Would that be Miss Stewart?’

‘Oh – yes.’

‘We’ve heard some very encouraging things about her.’ Pamela smiles and sips her tea. ‘As it happens, CEMA is looking for a regional officer for the Hastings area. We have someone in Brighton, but she has her hands full with that region — and she’s expecting a baby in January.’

‘This a paying position?’

‘Oh, of course! Not lavishly, I’ll admit — two guineas per week to start with, plus travel expenses.’

‘That isn’t too bad,’ Christopher considers. ‘If I can think of a likely candidate I’ll let you know.’

‘I’d be quite grateful for that.’

Modern as the flat may be, it has a hearth and a mantel, with a clock sitting atop the latter that now strikes the hour.

‘Charles promised to come home at a reasonable time today,’ Pamela notes. ‘Christopher, I ought to tell you that he left here this morning in — I was about to say “in a foul mood,” but “in a highly unsettled state” might be a better way of describing it.’

‘What about?’ her brother-in-law asks, trying and failing to picture this.

‘I don’t know! I can tell you what brought it on, though — a letter that arrived in the morning post. But I didn’t see it — not the letter itself, I mean — and Charles didn’t tell me what was it said. All I know is that it seemed to agitate him a good deal. He took it away with him. Well, when I say that I didn’t see it, what I mean is that I didn’t read it,’ she goes on. ‘Of course I didn’t. But I did see that it was typed — on rather better paper than one is accustomed to seeing nowadays, and that the paper was marked.’

Christopher smiles dimly.

‘I’m no longer with the police, Pamela,’ he reminds her.

‘Well, no. I know that, of course. But isn’t it interesting, nonetheless?’

‘Depends on what’s in it.’

When the door to the flat opens a few minutes later; Pamela excuses herself and goes into the hall to greet her husband. Foyle hears both of them saying his name, and Charles using the words apologise and upset. After a few moments the Howards return to the sitting room.

‘Christopher! Wonderful to see you! Thank you so very much for joining us,’ Charles begins, shaking his brother-in-law’s hand. ‘How was your journey up? We’ve been hearing the most terrible stories,’ he goes on. On the surface he’s the same as ever, but something has changed behind his kind eyes. Something has rattled him.

‘Oh, can’t complain,’ Christopher replies.

Charles asks after Andrew and – with a vagueness that seems almost deliberate, as though the subject were slightly too indelicate to bring up – enquires as to whether Christopher is keeping himself satisfactorily occupied these days. These subjects having been discussed, there is a short silence during which he looks first pensive, then determined.

‘Pamela tells me that she’s put you in the picture about my... well, my loss of an even keel this morning.’

‘Well, um, she told me that it occurred,’ Christopher replies.

‘Mm. There was a letter in the morning post that gave me quite a shock. As the day went on, though, it dawned on me that it concerns both of you as well,’ Charles continues, glancing at Pamela and then back to Christopher. ‘Please correct me if I’m wrong, Christopher, but I don’t believe that you ever met my brother – and of course I know that you never did, Pamela.’

‘Knew him only by reputation,’ Christopher affirms. Captain Nicholas Howard, 4th Battalion, Royal Surrey Regiment, had been killed in action on the first day of the Battle of the Somme and was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross.

‘Yes. Well. It seems that there was at least one thing about him that I didn’t know either.’ Charles falls silent again, looking perplexed. He reaches inside his jacket, brings out an envelope and removes its contents, which he offers to his wife and brother-in-law. ‘Perhaps it would be best if you both simply read this.’

He watches for a moment as Pamela and Christopher stand side by side, each holding an edge of the letter paper, taking in its contents. Then he looks out of a window.

[problemchildnoonewanted]

Life Is Strange 2 AU: P1

~Please keep in mind that the reason there is a lot of cursing/swearing is that this AU is based on a game with a lot of cursing and this is how I thought they would act given their age if they weren't owned by Disney. If you have not played the game I strongly advise it. It's so good! Also, be aware that this game was highly based on racism and injustices in America and how it can affect lives.~

"You're coming to the party, right?" Gogo asked him for the fifth time today alone. As much he wanted to press that little button on his helmet and hang up on her, he knew she'd kick his ass for it.

"Look, Gogo, you know I hate frat parties. They're not my style. I'd rather jus-FUCK!" Tadashi pulled on the brakes to avoid the dumbass that doesn't know what a stop sign is and lurched forward on the moped. Riding home through San Fransokyo was chaotic at best, but nothing new there. "Oh, come on!" The driver, however, just flipped him off and sped away. "What a dick," Tadashi mumbled.

"What happened?" Gogo's concern bled through the Bluetooth.

"Some asshole that doesn't know how to drive." Tadashi continued on his way when a car behind him honked in impatience.

"You need to be careful. Leave the speed to me, dipshit." Tadashi rolled his eyes as he pulled to a stop at a red light.

"The only one in our group that's safer on the road than me is Wasabi. I have a feeling that guy would use turn signals in a car chase. Anyway, as I was saying, parties aren't my thing."

"How would you know? You've never been to one." Tadashi turned the corner when the light turned green and pulled into the garage next to the shop.

"Because I don't want to! Do you seriously think that I want some random drunk college kids bumping into and grinding on me all night?" Tadashi groaned and put down the kickstand to his bike. "Hold on a sec." He pulled on his helmet, turned off the Bluetooth, and pulled out his phone. "Okay, now you can try in vain to convince me to go again."

"First of all, Mr. I Haven't Had A Girlfriend Since We've Met, what makes you think anyone's going to be all over you?" Gogo along with his other friends never understood why he never dated anyone. It's not like he could tell them he's only ever had eyes for his little brother. He tried moving on from Hiro a few years back, but when he kissed a girl for the first time he got so sick he ran off and immediately threw up. He never talked to her or about it again. Let alone try repeating it.

"Listen, that's by choice. And if you must know, the fact that I get asked out every other week is what makes me think that." He opened the door to the cafe and was met with the usual busy chatter of customers. He waved at Aunt Cass and started up the stairs.

Tadashi has always had this sense of loyalty to Hiro even though he thought they'd never be together in that way. In a way, it was like an attachment and gave him peace. And as wrong as it was trick himself like that, Tadashi still dreaded the day Hiro would bring someone home.

"You seriously have to get laid eventually. Unless you wanna be a cherry boy forever." Tadashi heard something clank in the background on Gogo's end.

"You still working on that project?" Tadashi made his way past the living room and climbed the stairs to his shared room with Hiro.

"Nice try, Hamada. We're not changing the subject. And when you get in your room do not try to tell me that Hiro might hear and get freaked out, he's old enough to know about sex."

"That doesn't mean I'm comfortable with talking about getting laid around him," Tadashi lowered his voice the closer he got to the door. This was again because of the loyalty thing. Tadashi didn't want Hiro to think he was with someone.

"Fine then. Agree to come to the party and we can stop talking about it." Gogo was beginning to get more snippy with him now. He knew he wasn't going to win.

He groaned and massaged his temple. He opened the door and hung up his bag. He lowered the phone when he saw Hiro at his desk and walked over to ruffle his hair and kiss the top of his head. Hiro smiled and opened his mouth to say something but Tadashi cut him off by showing his phone was on a call. Hiro pouted and turned back around. Tadashi walked over to his bed and laid down.

"You're not taking no for an answer this time, are you?"

"Not this time. It's the last big party of the year. You're going." Gogo's tone was deadly serious.

"Alright, I'll go. But I'm only staying for an hour."

"That's cool. But just in case you decide to stay longer for, I don't know, someone maybe. I left you something in your bag for you." If Gogo was there he'd no doubt see a smirk to match the mischief in her voice.

"You put something in my bag? What did you put in there?" Hiro's head turned and Tadashi could tell he was curious. Hiro shrugged and walked over to the bag.

"You'll see." Tadashi sees Hiro looking through his bag a lot despite that it's always the same stuff, so he's pretty sure he'll find whatever it is. "Just don't let your brother find them."

"What? Why?" Tadashi immediately sat up just as his bag hit the floor. Hiro's face showed a range of emotions that all followed along the lines of betrayal or abandonment. "Hiro? What is it?"

Hiro simply bolted out of the room without explanation.

"What the hell did you put in there, Gogo!?" Tadashi hung up without thinking and rushed over to the bag and saw... condoms? 'What the fuck, Gogo!'

Tadashi sprinted down to the living room and when he didn't find Hiro there he practically jumped the last flight to get to the cafe. He ran up to Aunt Cass and grabbed her shoulders making her yelp his name, "Where's Hiro?"

"Oh, he just ran out. Did you two get in a fight?" Cass cocked her hip and rested a hand there, but Tadashi ignored her in favor of finding his brother. He didn't want Hiro to get mad and end up in Good Luck Alley again.

However, he didn't find Hiro far off into the distance as he thought he would, but on the other side of the street. On the ground. With their dick of a neighbor yelling over him.

Tadashi instantly became aggressive and when he got across the street he shoved Brett away from Hiro. "Back off!"

Brett had it out for Hiro ever since he messed with one of Tadashi's projects while he was out and it resulted in a broken windshield on their neighbor's new car. Ever since then Brett would call the cops on their family for just about anything, but especially on Hiro.

Now normally, Brett would scamper off and just call the cops when Tadashi got involved. And considering Tadashi stood a good six inches taller than him, was well acquainted with the gym, and very protective of his little brother; that was a smart decision. But today must have been a bad day because he wasn't letting up.

"No way! I'm sick of this little shit running around thinking he can do whatever he wants! Look at this!" Brett gestured to his pure white shirt that was covered in a dark red liquid. Tadashi looked down and saw a cup leaking the same stuff near their feet and realized Hiro must have run into him making him spill his drink.

"I said I was sorry! You didn't have to push me!" Hiro got up and hid behind Tadashi. Brett leaned over to reach for Hiro and yell at him, but Tadashi knocked him away so he'd have to go through him instead.

"Look, dickhead, I'll give you money for a new shirt, but don't you dare touch my little brother!" Tadashi was aware of the crowd gathering around them and even heard someone calling the police, but he didn't care.

"Your brother put his hands on me first!" Brett was starting to size up on Tadashi.

"He ran into you on accident!" Tadashi defended Hiro. By now Tadashi could hear sirens in the distance.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he did it on purpose. Both of you walk around like you own the fuckin' city!" Brett was now only inches away from Tadashi.

"No, we don't! Now get out of my face!" Tadashi couldn't back up with Hiro pressed against him, so he tried to move Brett back by placing a hand on his shoulder.

Brett slapped his hand off and made to punch Tadashi in the nose, but Tadashi swerved his head out of the way. He caught the arm and pressed his palm flat on Brett's chest before using both hands to push him away. Brett stumbled a bit and right as he was about to catch his balance his foot caught on his fallen cup and he fell to the ground hitting his head on the curb.

"Oh, no." Tadashi moved to help when Brett began convulsing. And just then the police pulled up.

"He's hur-!"

"Back away!" The young officer ran up to the two with his hand on his gun.

"Wait! I know first aid. Let me help until the ambulance can get here." Tadashi tried to put his hands up and block his brother from the cop.

However, the cop became more distressed and aggressive as he saw what state Brett was in and drew his gun. "I said back away! Get on the ground now!"

Hiro started sobbing as Tadashi flinched back and started pushing him to the ground. "We didn't do anything!" Tadashi yelled and looked for help from to crowd, but they had begun to run off in fear when the officer pulled his firearm.

Hiro kept crying and repeating what his brother said over and over until their aunt was finally drawn out by the commotion. "Officer, what is going on here?!" She rushed to her boys only to have the barrel on the gun pointed at her too.

"Ma'am, stay back!"

"Aunt Cass, we didn't do anything!" Tadashi tried to explain.

"Aunt Cass, please!" Hiro pleaded for help.

"It's okay boys! Officer, please stop this! They're kids!" Cass tried approaching the officer with her hands up to calm him and talk some sense to him, but that only made him turn his full attention to the woman instead.

Tadashi could feel tears in his eyes and could tell Hiro was close to a panic attack. He wanted to help so badly, but there was nothing he could do. Just then, things around them started lifting off the ground including himself and everyone around. Except for Hiro.

This only made the cop freak out more and when Cass yelped in fear he accidentally squeezed the trigger in her direction. The bullet pierced her in the center of her chest. Hiro screamed and there was a huge pulse of energy.

Tadashi came to almost immediately. He saw his aunt and rushed to her. He wept as he realized she was gone. He then found Hiro and picked him up. Tadashi was smart and could tell that this was somehow Hiro's doing. He couldn't let his brother go to prison or become an experiment.

He stepped past the mangled police officer and ran into the shop. He avoided the people shying away and hiding from him and Hiro as he grabbed the money from the cash register, a couple loafs of bread that were bagged for sale, some water, and ran to their room.

He carefully set Hiro on his bed and began shoving clothes and a blanket into his backpack. When he heard sirens again he gathered Hiro and the stuff he packed and ran downstairs to the garage. Tadashi through the supplies in the back and placed Hiro in the passenger seat and once the garage door opened he was speeding off.

He couldn't go to any of his friends that'd be the first place the police would look. He had to get them out of the city fast. So Tadashi drove toward the closest secluded place to them. Muirahara Woods.

He would keep Hiro safe no matter what. He had to.

[goparkseonghwa]

A Devil’s Covenant [ Prologue ]

Genre: Angst, Romance, Horror, Smut (in future parts)

Pairing(s): Seonghwa x Reader (mostly) x Wooyoung (briefly) + ATEEZ

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Making a deal with the devil to bring back a loved one has its consequences. Are you ready to pay the price for your sins? 

Warning(s): Themes of Horror, Strong Language and Violence, Character Death  (these will be throughout the storyline so read with caution).

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                               ⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

"For the love all things holy, Seonghwa," You laugh down the line, the sleeve of your sweater covering your gaping mouth slightly, "This isn't the type of talk you should be indulging in with your best friend." You flush at the recollection of his previous statement, becoming hot and bothered easily at his low voice alone but his choice of wordage easily made you weak in the knees.

"Ah, but you love my sensual talk," He breathes down his end of the line, joking none the less, but still how he says it sends a faint tremble down your back. You secretly love it when he speaks to you in that manner, but you'd never admit that to his face - or rather to anyone in your inner circle. Hell, you could barely admit that to yourself the first time his words took a different toll on your heart. "And besides, who else would I use to practice my pickup lines on?"

Continue using me, please. You tap your finger against your lower lip as if you were in deep thought, letting a playful hum reverberate through your vocal cords in light spirit, lips turning up in the corners in the slightest motion. "Mmmmm, I know, you could use your suave moves on Yunho. He'd really have a fond appreciation for you after that." You stretch your arm behind your head, tousling your hair slightly as you run your fingers through the mess that was long overdue of a wash.

"You mean he'd probably have a fond appreciation for my chopped off penis sitting in a jar if I pulled that shit on him." He chuckles, and you can't help but gently roll your eyes at his sentence, knowing for a fact that the younger would actually find his elder's practice sessions enjoyable, being able to pick up on some tricks himself all while acquiring some form of blackmail to dangle over Hwa's head in the future.

"He loves your penis too much to ever bring any harm to it." You smile, crinkling your nose in endearment when you hear a scoff echo throughout the speaker, knowing his own cheeks were becoming flushed from embarrassment at your erotic, sinful thoughts.

"I highly doubt you on that one," He starts, voice becoming a bit muffled as the rustling of bags and other voices that echo throughout your speaker, indicating that he was at the market picking up groceries for a dinner he was hosting tonight at his and Yunho's shared apartment. Yunho had gotten in contact with Jongho, who seemed to be as much of a recluse nowadays as the spider, and convinced him to take a break from working on his novel to indulge in friendly conversation and delicious food. Seonghwa's stepbrother, Mingi, was in town for the week on business and Hwa wanted to reunite the five of you before Mingi jetted off to the next country for who knew how long, and before Jongho sealed himself off from the world again. ". . . thank you. . . alright, I think I have everything for tonight."

"Eh, you never know what could be going through Yunho's mind, so you shouldn't be too surprised if he has thought about it once or twice." Standing up from your bed, your knees slightly popping from being in the same, stiff position for so long, you maneuver your way into your bathroom to assess the damage that needed to be tended to before dinner. Cringing upon the sight of your greasy hair, and stained sweater from countless fridge raids, you turn on the sink faucet to begin your much needed 'spa treatment'. "Anyways, so what is Chef Seonghwa preparing for our taste buds this evening?" You inquire, picking up a washcloth to dampen.

"Ah, little one, it's a surprise," He playfully taunts, the tone in his voice making you huff out in annoyance. Surprises were nice and all but you would like to know what type of food you get to daydream about until it's finally sitting on a plate in front of you.

"Let me guess, you've decided to treat us to a frozen pizza?" You shift the phone from your hand so that it is now pressed between your shoulder and ear, allowing you to utilize both hands as you prepare your skin care routine.

"Damn, I can't believe you figured it out. You and the others get to indulge on a frozen entrée while I prepare myself a lovely steak dinner." He states, amusement easily interwoven within his words. His drawl that was as smooth as velvet was dangerous in itself, but when paired with any form of teasing or amusement it was a catastrophe just waiting to happen. The sultry undertone just waiting to pull anyone into a delicious, sinful paradise where temptations were acted on rather than ignored. A heaven within hell, the angel's fall from grace at the mere prospect of being entangled, consumed with another being that was corrupted beyond a point of redemption. But, those sickly sweet, lust driven whispers would be worth the fall if it meant you could spend eternity with him.

Knowing that he is merely pulling your leg, you decide to play along, "Mmmm absolutely delicious. My mouth is already watering at the mere thought of a burnt piece of bread with a pathetic excuse of toppings decorated on top." Sarcasm drips from every syllable that is enunciated with your tongue, a genuine, but snarky, way of conveying the lightness of the conversation. A smile graces your plush lips as wipe your face with the cloth, the water alone already making your skin feel better, more refreshed than it had been minutes ago.

A beautiful, deep laugh reverberates through the line and you could literally feel your heart rate slightly spike as the sound danced around within your ears. Something so pure, so sweet coming from the lips of a man whose heart was as big as the moon and whose soul was as golden as the sun made you feel as though heaven had answered your prayers, blessing you with a magnificent human who deserved nothing less than the stars. Park Seonghwa had easily found a way to leave pieces of himself within everything you did or saw, intertwining his existence with yours. A colorful pattern so bright it managed to dynamically shift your view on the world from one of black and white to one of vibrant, explosive pastels and neons. He was the artist and his words were the paintbrush as he transformed your life into a living, breathing masterpiece. He meant more to you than anyone could ever imagine, and being so fortunate to hear his laugh, to be around him when he was happy, to see him at his highest while also being there for the lowest was, and is, something you hold close to you. You would never trade anything in the world for those moments you are able to spend with him, the memories too precious to take for granted.

"But on a serious note, the meal I have planned tonight will be to your liking, so you have nothing to worry about," He reassures you which does improve your mood. Not that you weren't in a good mood prior to his statement, you were placed in a tranquil atmosphere the second you saw his name appear on your phone screen, but by him confirming that the meal tonight would be up to the high standards he always set made your spirits heighten further than the clouds.

"You better not give me food poisoning, Park," You grumble, scrubbing your face with the cleanser, "Or else you and I will be having a very strong, very colorful discussion tomorrow."

He gasps on the other end, "I'm hurt, Y/N, truly. You've punctured my heart." He feigns mock hurt, and you can only imagine the cute pout that is present on his plump lips, the crease between his sharp eyebrows and one of his hands placed on his chest, directly over the organ that you wish would belong to you.

"Let me grab my sewing kit so I can stitch that tragic wound of yours," You smile, grabbing the washcloth to dampen once more so you could remove the soap from your face and move on to the next step in your routine, "So, have you heard from Mingi? Is he in town yet?"

"Yeah, his plane landed about a half hour ago, so him and Yunho should be heading back to the apartment as we speak," He trails off, voice becoming muffled, distant from the phone as he must have gotten distracted by something or someone in the marketplace, "Hey, you like roses right–" He's cut short by the sound of a loud bang, startling you to the point of your phone nearly slipping from your shoulder.

"Holy shit! What the hell was that?" You shriek down the line just as another bang can be heard off in the distance, screams following quickly after. Worry starts to flood your veins as you drop the towel onto the counter, fingers now gripping tightly to the phone as you press it harder against your ear, "Seonghwa, what was that? Is everything okay?" There's rustling on his end, shuffling that sounds as if something has dropped or has been thrown down. When you hear short, sharp breaths through the receiver that's when your anxiety spikes dramatically. Something is wrong, something is terribly, horrifically wrong. The screaming intensifies as it draws closer to the phone, panicked voices forming incoherent sentences are jumbled together as well, frightening you even further. "Seonghwa, answer me! What happened?" A faint whimper, a grunt of pain and one final, sharp intake of breath is made before a soft, long exhale is emitted. Your heart sinks. "S-Seonghwa?"

"Someone call an ambulance!"

"Check for a pulse!"

"Oh my gosh! He's dead!"

At that, the phone drops from your now shaking hand, landing on the floor with a smack. Your mouth slackens, head becoming dizzy as your vision begins to produce black splotches in the corners of your eyes. A pounding sensation is heavily felt within your skull as the bathroom begins to spin. You lose your footing, stumbling backwards away from the vanity as your lunch from earlier begins to churn violently in your stomach. No, no, no, no, no. This isn't happening. They can't be talking about Hwa, it has to be someone else. But hearing his name faintly come through the speaker by an unknown voice confirms your worst nightmare. 

You’re numb, face the palest white possible as all of the blood seems to evaporate from under your skin, from your veins, your heart stuttering in your chest. It rapidly presses against your ribcage and you feel as though it’s about to combust from the pain that is pulsing through it, searing it so deeply that being physically stabbed in the chest would be like a measly paper cut – and you’d much rather be impaled a hundred times over than feeling what you are currently feeling.

Your eyes connect with your reflection for a brief second, in the next they roll into the back of your head, your weak frame toppling over, falling right next to your phones now cracked screen.

[ververa]

Sugar

Okay, so since I rarely write for Tammy I decided to mix a few different ideas/requests in this one work. It’s going to be a bit longer. By longer I mean like 3 or so parts. Also, I’m awfully sorry it’s taking me so long, but for some unknown reason I don’t like it and keep on rewriting, which takes A LOT OF TIME. 

Here is part one. I hope you enjoy it <3

Tammy x Fem!reader

Words: 3.181

You had never been an enthusiast of changes. They were always scaring you, as you considered them a threat to your perfectly organised world. You were a perfectionist who always had everything planned in advance. Every day – was always neatly organised. You were always busy and your schedule was full of different activities. But as long as you had everything under control, you had time for everything. Work, gym, parties, relax and rest – but no surprises. Your life was pretty normal. You got bored with the routine, of course, but only at times. You knew that this feeling would disappear and you weren’t going to change anything in your life. For, why change something that works? You believed that well organised time was the key to the success. You made peace and neatness basic component parts of your lifestyle. And any kind of mess or disorder was unacceptable. You were an achiever type – always goal-oriented, not letting yourself be distracted by anything or anyone.

So, if someone had ever told you that love would come into your life when you less expect it, you wouldn’t have believed them. Yet, it befell to you. You happened to be there – in the time and place. Would you call it right? Definitely not. Was it unexpected? Hell yes.

She befell to you. The gorgeous blonde came into your life like a hurricane – turning upside down everything you had had in a perfect order. You were always prepared for everything. Your natural gift for planning and the ability to act under pressure, for sure were helpful. Yet, the car crash was totally unexpected.

You had just finished your work and were on your way back home, when she bumped into your car.

Well, actually it was you who bumped into the back of her car, for she appeared on your way from nowhere. You were driving way too fast to manage and break in time.

The hit was not only sudden, but also quite hard and you ended up with your head hitting first the steering wheel and then the seat back.

“Jesus fuck! What the hell?!” you yelled trying to comprehend what had happened

You unfastened your seatbelt and got out of the car. You examined the car, which front part was badly damaged. You already knew that the repair would not only cost a lot, but also would take long time. You were sore and the realisation of how serious the crash was only annoyed you more. It made your blood boiled.

“What the hell, arsehole?! Are you blind or did you win your driving licence in a packet of crisps?!” you yelled sure that the other driver’s a man

It’s impossible to say how surprised you were, when it turned out that it was actually a woman. A very attractive one.

She immediately began rambling some explanations and apologies, but you were sure she said nothing. It was hard to say whether it was the result of the hit or just the way her appearance affected you. Though, you weren’t angry any more. You were struck by her. Her beautiful blonde hair, big brown eyes staring at you apologetically and her natural cuteness. Even your ruined plan for the rest of the day didn’t matter any more.

She was talking – constantly apologising and saying she would pay for the repair. But you didn’t react. You were just standing and looking at her – wondering how could you be even mad at someone so cute.

“A-are you alright?” she asked worriedly

“W-what? Yeah. I’m fine. Perfectly fine…” you said, but as you did so you felt dizzy

“Oh my God!”

“I’m not a God” you chuckled feeling a bit unstable

“No… I… You’re bleeding”

“W-what?” you touched your nose and looked at your fingers only to see a lot of blood

Right now? Really? You rolled your eyes

“Great” you muttered searching for something you could rely on, so as not to collapse

The woman quickly came closer to you seeing you’re about to fall. She held you up and helped you sit down at the back seat of her car.

“Don’t move. I’ll take some tissues”

You nodded trying to stop the bleeding with your hand, which of course did not work at all.

“Here you are” she said giving you a tissue

“Thank you” you took it with your shaking hand

“Let me help you” the blonde took another tissue and carefully wiped the blood from your face “I’ll call an ambulance”

“No, no. There is no need to…” you choked “It’s not the first time… It happens when I got too nervous. I’ll be fine” you explained quickly

“Are you sure? I can call my friend and she’ll drive us to the hospital”

“No. Really. Thank you”

“Okay. I’ll then call the breakdown service. You don’t move and stay here”

You nodded in response.

After 20 minutes the car hauler arrived, but you were still too dizzy to do anything. However, the woman took care of everything. She even contacted your insurer, so the men took both of your cars.

“Okay. Everything is done” she said “I have a replacement car, so since you don’t want to go to the hospital, I’ll drive you home. Is that alright?”

You didn’t really have a different option also you did not mind spending more time with gorgeous woman, so you agreed.

“You don’t need to do this. I’m fine” you said when she wanted to hold you up and help to the car

“Yeah. Sure. You already said you’re fine and then almost fainted. I think I’ll just help you”

“This time I really am fine”

“Well then, maybe I just want to hold you a bit longer”

You looked at her confused. Was she flirting with you?

“I’m Tammy by the way” she said helping you to the car

“I’m Y/N”

“It’s nice to meet you. Though I wish it was under different circumstances”

You got in the car. You’re about to fasten your seat belt when you noticed the confusion on Tammy’s face.

“W-what?” you asked

“Nothing” she shook her head

“What’s wrong?”

“I… Well, how do you drive it?”

“What?”

“A car with a manual gearbox…”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Tammy looked at you and blushed

“No? I mean… I got used to the automatic one, so…”

“I’ll drive” you said and moved to get out the car

“No! You’re not allowed to”

“Sorry, but one accident is enough for today”

“I can do this”

“Oh God” you whined “Please, let me drive. I’m too young to die”

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad” she started the car “Okay… What do I do now?”

“Please, please, let me do that”

“Fine!” she sighed

“Now look” you said as you changed seats “First you start the car and then you need to press the clutch. And then you can change gear” you explained

“Okay. That doesn’t seem to be that hard”

“Well, it’s not when you practice”

Tammy laughed

“But you have the automatic gear in your car as well, don’t you?”

“You should have said I used to have one”

“Right… I’m sorry and I promise I’ll pay for the repair”

“You don’t need to. I was about to buy a new car, so…”

“Are you serious or just trying to make me feel less guilty?”

“Both?”

“You’re cute” Tammy smiled sweetly once more

You didn’t know her, but you already were sure she was the embodiment of sweetness. She was so kind and polite. And damn, so incredibly beautiful. It was hard not to stare at her, but you didn’t want to have another accident, so you focused on driving.

“Alright. That’s where I live” you said parking and then cutting the engine

“Great. I’ll walk you home then” Tammy said unfastening her seatbelt

You looked at her surprised.

“What? I need to make sure you get home safely”

“O-okay”

Tammy escorted you to the door of your apartment, which was the nicest thing somebody had done for you since a very long time.

“Thank you” you said

“Thank me? Y/N, I crashed your car. Because of me you’re bleeding and then it turned out I cannot even drive you home, because apparently I cannot drive at all. So, you really should not than me, sweetheart. Actually, I should thank you. Also I’m sorry, once again”

“You don’t need to be. Things sometimes happen”

“Will you call me tomorrow?”

“Call you?”

“Yes. I want to be sure you’re alive and okay. Or no, I’ll call you”

“Yyy... okay”

“Yeah. Good. Great… Oh, but you need to give me your number first”

“Sure. Give me your phone”

Tammy started looking for her phone in her bag, but couldn’t find it.

“Damn! It’s here a few minutes ago” she growled

“It’s okay” you tried not to laugh “I’ll just give you my business card” you took one from your bag “So, when you find your phone you can call me”

The blonde offered you one more smile before leaving.

That little accident definitely changed your life. Well, maybe it wasn’t exactly the accident, but it offender – about whom, for some weird reason, you couldn’t stop thinking.

You couldn’t really figure out why she had such an impact on you. In all your born years nobody had ever impressed you as she did. How was it even possible that a randomly met woman could make you feel like that?

It seemed that she destroyed not only your car, but also all the rules you had. You didn’t complain though. If she was going to be your sweet escape from the routine – you definitely didn’t mind. How could you say no to a little sweetness? Everyone needs some sugar in their life. Especially you, cause apparently you suffered from a lack of it.

You were stubborn, as always. You didn’t want to be needing it. But it was truly impossible to resist her beauty and cuteness. Of course all that sweetness cost you quite a lot of money and resulted in a  black eye – after hitting the steering wheel, but you couldn’t care less. Her call the next day made up for all of that.

You were at the office, working on some project – when your phone rang. You looked at the screen and saw an unknown number

“Hello?” you answered

“Hi. It’s me, you know… the arsehole with driving licence from a packet of crisps”

You blushed remembering that you, indeed, called her that.

“I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay. I’m just kidding. Never mind, I wanted to ask how are you? And if you would like to… I don’t know meet sometime. Mabe grab some coffee with me?”

Could you ever say ‘no’ to her? Obviously not. So, the very next day you were at the set place – a nice restaurant. As usually, you were there 10 minutes earlier, because you hated to be late. Though, it seemed that Tammy had a different view on being punctual and arrived almost 30 minutes late. Normally – if that were a meeting with your client or any other person, you would be angry or annoyed at least, but you weren’t, simply because it was Tammy.

The woman practically dashed into the restaurant. She approached one of the waiters – probably asking about you. You couldn’t help, but smile to yourself. She, with no doubt, was the most beautiful and well-organised mess you had ever met. Finally, Tammy spotted you and came to the table. That cute apologetic smile once again glued to her face. And her hair… The first thing you noticed was a pink clip, which was preventing her amazing locks from falling completely free.

She began to apologise, that she needed to wait for her ex to pick up the kids. That information came as a surprise. Kids? Well, you weren’t an enthusiast of that little, noisy and messy creatures either. Though instead of saying anything you only smiled and nodded. Your eloquence and self-confidence was gone when she was around and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t help it. Yet you managed to stutter a few simple words.

“Nice clip”

Tammy’s eyes widened as she realised she was still wearing that little item.

“I… Well, my daughter… We’re playing. I forgot about it. My God” she stuttered taking it off  

“It suits you. You look even more cute with it”

You’re an idiot, Y/N – you chid yourself internally

“Thank you” she shook her head smiling

Well damn, you’re living to watch her like this. That adorable grin was everything you may ever asked for. You had no idea you would ever get more than that, so you cherished that little moment.

“What happened to you?” she asked pointing at the dark glasses you’re wearing

“Well, I had an accident. You know… Let’s talk about something different maybe?”

“So, what are you doing for a living?”

“Well, I’m working in an advertising agency. We’re designing advertisements and organising various events connected with that” you explained

“You must be very creative then”

You were said to be one of the best in your field, but you didn’t like to boast yourself like your colleagues did.

“I’m nothing special, I’m just doing my job”

“Beautiful, creative, talented and modest. That’s an uncommon mix” she smiled sweetly

You spent over 2 hours on talking and getting to know each other better. But you couldn’t get enough. You wanted more hours with her. It felt as if you needed it to live. Luckily for you she wanted to meet again too – actually she was the one who suggested it.

So, you met again. And again and again. Before you knew you’re seeing each other almost every day. You were pretty naive thinking you wouldn’t fall. You might have tried all you want to resist, but your heart was steadily surrendering and you couldn’t fight it. You may not believe in such abstractive things like love. You never truly did, but no matter what you had thought, you were already lost in it. There was no escape, because that gentle breeze waved its spell upon your heart.

You hated to admit it, but she really got you bad and you were unable to break that spell.

For you she was as addictive as the sweets for most of the children. She was a kind of sugar that you wanted to taste so badly. But even when you did, you were still suffering from the shortage of sweetness.

You had always sucked at relationships. Or more specifically at letting people into your life. And all that was for fear they may change it too much. You had always gone by on your own. You never really cared until you met her. This one time you truly wanted it. You were ready to undertake the risk and you didn’t plan on fleeing. Not from her.

You had never thought, not even imagined, that one day a beautiful blonde in an off-road car would appear in your life and turn it upside down. Though, in spite of what you may have thought, she wasn’t the one to beget the chaos – as changes do. Instead she brought your life to a different level. A different dimension – the complete and perfect one. She was like the missing part of the puzzle –without which your life was incomplete.

She was your own angel right from the stars. And like a thief she stole your heart. But you’re a willing victim. You let her see the parts of you that weren’t all that pretty. And surprisingly, she fixed them as if she had some kind of superpower.

It was almost the same with Tammy. She hadn’t expected to meet anyone after her divorce. At least not like that – in a car crash. But she never regretted crashing both hers and yours cars. Because if she hadn’t got distracted and had noticed your car, she would have never met you.

You were younger than her, though seemed to be calmer and more reasonable. Yet at the same time you had a completely different side – a crazy and funny one, which not everyone get to see. You were ambitious, hard-working and always had everything under control, which Tammy absolutely loved, since her life was always one big mess. With you things seemed to be easier, less complicated. There was nobody quite like you and because of that she fell for you. She gave you all her sympathy and love, not really expecting anything in return. But you were ready to give her absolutely everything. And just because she knew that, she loved you even more.

She loved having you close, because without you by her side she felt as if she was something weak.  You showed her good loving and always made things better. After the divorce – all the nasty arguments and a fight, consisting of throwing shit at each other, that she had with her ex-husband – you were the one who comforted her. You were the one who picked up all her broken pieces and only thanks to you she felt more like a human again. That was precious. You were precious and without you she felt incomplete, because you were her true love.

Tammy was aware of it at the very beginning of your relationship, though she knew you had your boundaries and so as not to scare you or anything she just kept it to herself. She didn’t want to push you. She knew she wasn’t on her own, as she had kids. So, she decided it would be better to let things be and see where it all lead. She gave you time to figure out how you feel and what do you want, because that was quite a tough decision to make. For you weren’t taking only her, but a full package consisting of three people.

She let you set the peace of your relationship and you made it mercilessly slow. That’s why Tammy was over the moon when you asked her to go with you to one of the events that you’re in charge of. Finally, another step was taken and she knew you’re moving forward and that you didn’t change your mind.

The party was one of many events, organised by the company, that you had been to. Though it was different this time, because you were the one in charge of preparing everything. You couldn’t deny that you liked to be in power, so when the chance arose you took it. Another pros of that was the possibility of taking Tammy with you.

The woman was so grateful and genuinely happy that she, finally, could go out and leave the house. It’s not that she didn’t enjoy spending time at home with her kids. She loved them, of course, but everyone gets tired sometimes. Everyone gets bored and needs to do something different – simply so as not to go crazy. Moreover that was her opportunity to see what exactly you’re doing. So she gladly accepted the invitation.

Tag list: 

@misssmephisto​

@cakexblankett​

@cordwliagoode​

@tasyahilker​

@mysweetdelia​

[abm111815]

Bad feelings: JJ x reader

Part one

Summary: what happens when the groups plans get ruined and no one can find JJ? They have a bad feeling that something isn’t right.....

The rest of the pogues were waiting for you down at the docks, or at least that was what the plan was supposed to be. Your shift at The Wreck was just ending. You changed out of your uniform and into your swimsuit and shorts and headed to the docks. Kie, Pope, John B, and Sarah were all there waiting. However, your boyfriend, JJ was no where to be found. That made no sense seeing as how JJ never missed an opportunity to be out on the water. “Hey guys! Where is JJ?” You asked the group as you made your way towards the boat. “We haven’t heard from him since yesterday. We just assumed he was picking you up from work and coming with you?” Pope said as he lended his hand to help you into the boat. You don’t know why, but you suddenly had a very bad feeling that something was wrong.

“Guys, I think I’m going to go try to find JJ, you guys go ahead and take the boat out and I’ll let you know when I find him.” You couldn’t just go out and enjoy yourself when you didn’t know where your boyfriend was or if he was okay. “No, you’re right y/n something doesn’t seem right, we will all try to find him.” We decided to split up to try and cover more ground. JJ had broken his phone during a fight a couple weekends ago so that did not help the situation. Pope and kie said that they would go look at some of his favorite spots to surf and check some of the jobs he had been working to see if he was there. You and John B. decided to go see if he was at his house. You knew that if something had happened to him, sadly home was where it probably happened. You and John B. Were the only ones that knew about his abusive, horrible father and what JJ went through at home. You knew that JJ would not want you all to be there , he had made it very clear that he wanted you to stay clear of his father. However, you did not care how angry he would be, you had to see for yourself that he was alright.

John B. Pulled the van into JJ’s driveway, there was no sign of Luke’s truck anywhere so you made the decision to go inside. John B. Called out for JJ but got no response. John B. Attempted to go through the front door only to find it locked. You remembered that JJ had mentioned one night that he would always leave his window unlocked to his room so he could sneak in for clothes without Luke knowing. You ran around to the side of the house and found the bedroom window. “John B. I need a lift! I’ll go in and unlock the door for you!” John B. Helped you maneuver yourself in through the window. You made your way to the living room to unlock the door and that’s when you saw it...or should i say when you saw him.

“Oh My God! John B. Hurry!!” You hurried and swung open the door and ran straight over to the slumped over, unconscious body of your boyfriend. “Dear God JJ! y/n is he breathing?!” You fell down beside him and tried to roll him over towards you. There was so much blood, his face was black and blue and there were cuts all over his arms and his chest. You put your hand on his neck trying to find a pulse, it was very faint but it was there. “He has a pulse but it is weak! Call 911!” “Baby, can you hear me? Me and John B. Are here ok? Can you open your eyes for me?” You were trying desperately to try and get some kind of response out of him but there was nothing. You pushed some of his hair that was matted to his forehead back out of his face. As tears streamed down yours and john b’s faces, all you could feel was anger. How could someone do this to their own child? How could you just leave them there to die? Not even call for help?? How long had he been laying here?!” Once the paramedics arrived and loaded JJ on the stretcher, you followed close behind and hopped in the back of the ambulance grabbing ahold of JJ’s hand. “I’ll meet you at the hospital, I am going to call the others and we will all be there as soon as we can.” You just nodded at John B. Afraid that you would break if you tried to speak. JJ never woke up the entire ride to the hospital. The paramedic informed you that he was breathing but that he was not getting enough oxygen so they had to intubate him. You had never been more afraid in your life, seeing a tube down your boyfriend’s throat was something you couldn’t have ever imagined having to see.

The others came running into the hospital and rushed over to you in the waiting area. “Any news? Where did they take him? Did he wake up??” They all were shooting questions at you trying to find out anything about their friend. “They said they had to run some tests, check to see how bad the damage was and see what all injuries they were dealing with. No, he didn’t wake up at all. He wasn’t getting enough oxygen so they had to put a tube down his throat in the ambulance to help him breathe.” you tried to explain everything to them but you had to stop because your voice started cracking and it was getting harder to catch your breath. “Ok, ok calm down y/n. You’re gonna have a panic attack if you don’t calm down. Just breathe for me, take deep breaths ok?” Kie and Sarah sat on both sides of you trying to calm you down. It was no use though, once the tears started and the first sob escaped your throat you couldn’t contain it anymore. You sat there with Kie and Sarah holding you until you eventually wore yourself out and fell asleep.

“Y/n, wake up sweetie, come on wake up.” Kie gently shook your shoulder trying to wake you up from the uncomfortable waiting room chair. “Hey, so the doctors just came by. They said that it was pretty bad and that if we hadn’t got there when we did.....he probably wouldn’t be here.” John B. Explained. “They said that he has a severe concussion, almost all his ribs are broken, he had been choked so he had some damage to his throat and that’s why he was having trouble getting enough oxygen, and several cuts and bruises which we had already seen.” All you could do was sit there wide eyed and shocked as John B explained all of your sweet boy’s injuries. “Is he awake yet?” You just needed to see him, see those blue eyes staring back at you, to see that he was still here with you. “No, not yet. Since the concussion was pretty bad, they wanted to keep him sedated for a few days to let him rest and heal and also to let his throat heal before they remove the tube. They said if he wasn’t sedated he would probably try to pull the tube out and it would only make things worse.”

You had no more words to say to anyone. You felt like your world was just crashing down. Your sweet boy was laying in the hospital not able to breathe on his own all because of his asshole of a father. You could not sit by anymore and let this happen. You had asked JJ several times why he didn’t say something to the cops about his dad beating him. He said that he couldn’t do that because he would have no one to take care of him and DCS would send him to foster care on the mainland. You didn’t care anymore, you had to figure out a solution. You could not let the love of your life step back into that house with that man. “Guys, I’m going to head home. I need to get cleaned up and get some sleep. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow.” You wanted to include the group in your plan but not yet. After telling everyone goodbye, you headed back to figure 8 to your house. Yes, you were technically a Kook, but your parents were pogues when they first got married and moved here. Your father had worked very hard to expand his business and create a great life for you all. You moved to figure 8 a few years back but you were still a pogue at heart. That is the main reason that your parents never had an issue with your friends. They knew how kooks treated them and they did not agree with it. Your dad and JJ loved each other and hung out together quite often since you all started dating 3 years ago.

“Y/n, is that you? Oh, honey what is the matter? Why are you so upset?” The second your parents seen you come through the front door they knew something was terribly wrong. You immediately collapsed into your mom’s arms and sobbed. You couldn’t even get words out to tell them, your mom just held you while your dad rubbed your back until you finally calmed down enough to tell them what had happened to JJ and who had been the one to cause it. “Are you serious? How could he do that and get away with it? I’m not going to stand for that, I’m calling the sheriff myself and turning him in!” You hadn’t ever seen your dad so mad in your life. He was pacing around the living room clenching and unclenching his fists. “Dad, you cant! JJ doesn’t have anymore family to take care of him, if Luke goes to jail, JJ goes into foster care on the mainland!” “No, that is not going to happen either sweetie. Now would i love for my daughter and her boyfriend to live together in my house? No. Would i like to see the boy that she is obviously in love with be taken away from her? Also no. So that’s why i am going to march down to the station and tell the sheriff what happened and that it is not the first time it has happened and how i want JJ taken from that home immediately and i want to become his legal guardian and he will live with us.” You sat there in shock just staring at your dad. Your mom just looked between you and your father with a huge smile on her face, “Y/n honey, you cant honestly expect us to sit by and watch JJ go through that and not do something about it? I know that boy means the world to you, and i know he feels the same. There is no better place for him than right here with us.” You could not believe how well that went. You went to bed shortly after your talk and tried to get some sleep. You could not wait to get to the hospital tomorrow to tell JJ the good news, but what will he think about it when he wakes up?

[picarrete1976]

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[violetfeathers]

Heat (Hawks X F!Reader)

I have never posted anything on tumbler before so let’s just leave this here and hope other’s enjoy my bullshit trash mind too.

Pairing: Hawks x reader

Words: 7.7k+

Genre: smut, some story build fluff smut at least? rut/heat

Rating: Explicit, 18+, NSFW

Warnings: breeding, submissive, choking, some blood at the beginning, some fluff

*Unedited

------------------------------------------------------

Blood erupted from your lips as you coughed, the coppery taste making you cringe and want to heave again as you absorbed the injury of the civilian in front of you.

The small hole in your abdomen slowly started to close, the man staring at you in awe as you had to pull down your black lower face mask to expel your own blood though you appeared as if you weren't worried in the slightest.

Never said my quirk was pretty.

You happened to be in the area during an explosion of a nearby factory and thankfully there wasn't many people injured, which made it easier to take on the responsibility of most serious wounds like the pipe that went through a man's side and the chunk of another's leg that was seared off.

Your quirk was super regenerative and gave you the ability to take on the injuries of others to heal at a rapid rate. Obviously you couldn't bring someone back from the dead or replace entire arms or legs, but you could repairs holes in organs or mass injury depending on what you yourself could survive.

The down fall was experiencing most of the pain of whatever you absorbed, making you weaker and more unsteady depending on the situation until you ultimately passed out. A super powerful quirk yet you wanted to just help people like a normal everyday hero while also volunteering at hospitals rather than boast since newly moving to Hosu city.

You were usually too busy with cases and trips around the area for interviews or coverage, so you remained a small rising pro hero who was only twenty that the public was still learning about and mostly unaware of.

Your eyes kept on a friendly tinge despite the crimson liquid that coated your lips, tone breathy as you inquired about the man you front of you. "You okay, sir? Any other injuries?"

He shook his head in silence, barely able to comprehend how you were still upright. You nodded, standing and helping him to his feet as well. "There is an ambulance over there, make sure to talk to them and the officers just in case. Have a good day and be safe!"

You were gone before he could say another word, your hooked chain wrapping around a broken piece of wall and dragging yourself up to where you heard panicked voices getting closer the further your swung and jumped up with a small wince.

You were greeted with the sight of an older man, his entire stomach coated in blood as he laid next to a familiar red winged pro hero who was trying to calm the death fearing male down with a calming smile.

Holy shit that's Hawks

You couldn’t let yourself be starstruck as you heard the famous pro talking to the man, his tone friendly and upbeat to try to keep the man’s focus.

"We'll get you out, you just gotta trust me." Hawks assured, the remnants of his feathers twitching slightly as he eyed the amount of blood with worry. He wanted to lift the man out, but had already used a lot of his feathers to get out other victims around the fires of the explosion.

His eyes glanced over to see a smaller woman that looked unfamiliar, your hero suit just black with dark grey accents that clung to your form with pouches and a long chain wrapped around your waist.

Your eyes trailed over to man as you neared, your voice soft but urgent as you began to formulate how this would go. "What are his injuries?"

Hawks blinked, surprised by the woman who was talking at him like he wasn't one of the top pro heroes and immediately taking charge of the situation the moment you entered.

"He.. He had a large pipe in his stomach-"

"Anything else other than this large injury?"

Hawks feathers ruffled as you cut him off, but watched as you peeled back the crimson soaked shirt of the man in front of him to look at the size of the wound.

"Burns and scrapes." Came his curt reply, his eyes narrowing on you as you pressed your hands into the civilian's before a beautiful smile made it’s way to your already bloodied lips. His heart skipped a beat at the sight, your scent finally wafting over to him and curling around him in a sweet embrace.

You were too busy wracking your brain with your own state as you smiled at the man below you, knowing that he wouldn't make it to hospital in time. "You're gonna be just fine sir, you gotta trust a hero's word after all. Especially the number two's." Your kind gaze then darted up to the popular hero's surprised one, your smile turning into something more bashful but informative.

"When I'm done, you can leave me and get him out. All I ask is that you come back for me, I'm just gonna need my own help out of here though. Sorry for the bother that this is gonna be!"

Before Hawks could even question what you were even talking about, your joined hands glowed a bright gold just like your irises while the wound on the man's stomach began to illuminate as well before the glowing was cut off, the man gasping at the instant release of his pain.

The bird pro was in shock, his eyes feeling like they deceived him until he heard a cough come from the mystery hero. Blood poured from your lips, your eyes squeezed shut as you curled an arm around your stomach with your black hero suit darkening as the newly formed hole in your stomach gushed out dark red liquid.

Hawks instantly was at your side, his hand resting on your upper back with frantic look to his golden orbs.

"What are yo-"

"T-the man, Hawks. Please."

The winged hero swore under his breath, a feather hastily hooking into the back of the man's shirt and carrying him off without hesitation much to your surprise.

You coughed again with blood splattering out onto the concrete below, your eyesight blurry as your words came out croaked and raspy sounding. "I'll b-be fine. Quirk's healing-" You could barely get out the explanation before your vision started to fade, your words sounding more far away by the second.

Hawks scooped you up into his arms, his feathers returning to him as much as he could that weren't damaged to help form steps that let him jump down from the high up broken floor they were on. "Hey, stay with me, dove. Your quirk is healing, yeah? So, you're gonna be fine right?"

His words had a twinge of worry to them despite his lighter tone, catching the twitch of your lips as a shaky smirk made it's way to your face. "Y-yeah, I'll be- fuck. F-fine. Regenerative p-power. Call my agency."

Hawks felt himself relax but only slightly, his feet landing on the ground as he let out a deep breath. "Alright, what agency are you under?"

He was met by silence, his golden eyes darting down to see your face slack as you passed out in his hold and let a groan slip from his lips.

"Well shit."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that was how you met Hawks.

He thankfully was able to use his own connections at as his agency to find out that you were recently hired at a smaller group on the outskirts of Hosu, surprising him that such a mind boggling quirk was hiding under the shadows of such an unknown agency. He even liked your hero name, 'Death Defy'.

He immediately asked you to come work for him the moment you awoke with the bird man standing over you with a look of fascination.

Which you initially declined.

Because why trust a man you have never met despite his status? You were still unsure of what the world of hero networking was like and it was intimidating to just immediately be okay with working under such a top hero.

You soon found out that Hawks was a persistent man when he had his eye on something though.

A few months went by of randomly running into him out on the field and at your favorite coffee shop, the man now visiting your little caffeinated gem daily around the same time as you at the end of weekly jogs.

He could tell you were not used to the attention, finding out along the way about how you became a hero in your small town despite having merchant parents who ran a grocery store. You had a mutated quirk that was almost godly, one that your parents hide away for years claiming you to be quirkless due to the fear of people come to take you away.

He found it admirable that you had decided to pursue the life of a hero regardless of your safety once you could make the choice for yourself, ignoring your parent’s pleads to just live a normal life. You were fully aware that people would try to take advantage of you or worse, but it was the risk you were willing to take to help as many people that were within your reach.

He almost wondered what the Commission would have done if they had known about her, but he was grateful to meet you just the way you were.

At first you were confused by the interest the winged hero had taken into you, not opposed to his attention at all but you found yourself more lost to be in the presence of such a charismatic man more and more often.

Then your confusion turned into a friendly fondness. His witty banter and flirty attitude growing on you more than you expected, finally causing you to take the plunge to accept his offer.

The charming smirk you got was seared into your memory, your hero life changing drastically from that day on.

You moved closer to his agency, thankful that Hawks offered quite a generous pay to get yourself a decent apartment. Your schedule was more filled than before, answering more calls to disaster scenes and more dangerous encounters to save more people than you ever had.

You felt enlightened and worn to the bone, but it was something that was thrilling to your very core. You wanted to help people and accepting the position at the number two hero's agency had you feeling more useful than ever before.

Speaking of the number two hero, you figured he would stop going out of his way to see you once you agreed to his offer, but you found yourself seeing him more than ever.

He would still see you at your coffee shop, the two of you now having a ritual of sharing a table to chat about everything and anything. He called upon you in a lot of missions too, even if it was precautionary, saying you were more useful than you gave yourself credit for. You swore the blush on your cheeks could be seen through your black face mask.

Time passed and your feelings for the man grew, everything about him drawing you in like a magnet no matter how hard you tried to focus on you hero career. He was charming and flirty sure, but he couldn’t contain the flustered fluff of his feathers at your teasing or the accidental brushes of you hand. He seemed as engaged with you as you were with him, but it was too intimidating to take the plunge and possibly ruin your relationship. 

It was around Spring when you found yourself at the agency late on a Friday night, letting out a deep sigh as you finished your last report.

You figured you were the last one around based on how quiet it had been outside your office for the past two hours. You clicked off your desk lamp as you stood and picked up your stack of files, grabbing your bag to throw over your shoulder on your way out.

You locked your office door and place the files in the tray outside your doorway when you heard something from down the hall towards Hawks' office.

You furrowed your brows as you walked towards the door, noticing that it was nearly all the way latched shut as a whimper caught your attention. It sounded almost pained, causing you to fling open the door with a worried expression, your (e/c) eyes catching the blonde haired crimson winged hero hunched over in his desk chair with a pained look on his handsome face.

"Hawks? Are you alright?" You asked while not noticing the way his body shuddered at your voice, his wings puffing up slightly as your scent wafted into the room as you entered.

His eyes snapped up to yours in a bit of a panic, being in the same mindset as you and expected his agency to be empty by now. "(Y-Y/N)?" His voice was husky and breathy, trying to deal with the flood of heat that seemed to painfully make it's way through him.

He never wanted you to see him like this. He hadn't been keeping track of time of his body's signs of his impending rut, his body and mood all of the place. His hunger almost insatiable for the past few days until, well, this.

All he wanted was to lay low in his office until nightfall then try to sneakily fly back to his penthouse, nest, then ride out his painful week with as much dignity as he could muster.

And right now he felt like the world wanted to see the bird man burn as he watch you round his desk to kneel at his side with a concern look on your pretty face.

"Do you need me to heal something? What's going on?" You asked urgently, your hand going up rest on his flushed cheek and frowning at how heated he felt.

He leaned heavily into your touch, his breaths coming out in pants as his golden eyes opened to practically melt into yours as his lips were barley able to form a reply. "N-no, this isn't somethin' you can fix, dove. You n-need to go."

You frowned further, your eyes narrowing in confusion on the obviously flustered male as you pressed on. "I can't just go with you looking like this! Keigo, please, let me help."

A soft crooning of chirps met your ears, your eyes widening as Hawks felt his face flushing further as he moved away from your touch hastily in response.

"L-listen. This is really embarrassing to deal with and I don't want to creep you out so please let me just deal with this by myself. I promise I'll be okay." He assured you, forcing himself to try and not keep the memory of you on your knees in front of him tucked away for later use.

You could hear rather desperate tone he was barely able to conceal, your eyes taking in a hardened look as you stood your ground. "No Keigo, you can trust me! I don't care if it's embarrassing, just tell me what's going on."

He almost groaned at the commanding tone of your voice, shivers erupting all over his skin at the determined look to your gorgeous face. He blurted out the words before he could process it, not realizing the effect you already had over him due to your scent and his needy nature.

"So you know my quirk is avian in nature, yeah? It's because of that I g-gain some stupid bird traits and habits. Nesting, preening, showing off, possessiveness, and all of that boils down to having a... rut."

".....A rut?" You echo, your eyes searching his as he grit his teeth and forced his hands to remain curled into his own hero jacket to prevent him from reach towards you

"I basically get painfully horny on and off for a week straight. My dumb body wants to do the animal thing." He bluntly drops, hanging his head as he squeezes his eyes shut in mortification of his own words. He wasn't a shy man by any means, but he liked you. He had spent so much time getting to know you and didn't want something like this to make it weird between the both of you. Which is why his eyes snapped open at your next words in disbelief.

"Oh... Well, can't you call a girl to- uh, fuck silly for a few days?"

A pained laugh left his lips at your words, his musical chuckling making a flush settle on your own cheeks as you bashfully glance down from your blunt reply.

Once he caught his breath, he opened his mouth again and tried to not breathe in more of you and your warm energy that called out to him almost teasingly in his clouded mind. "I wish it were that simple, but this is something super, uh, personal? I want to get very connected to whoever I would do this with and I have... never done it with anyone before." He admitted.

"Fuck- sorry that sounded really insensitive, huh? I thought-" He interrupted your apology with a pained wave of his hand, not blaming you for your suggestion at all. "Its fine, I just need to get home. Your, uh smell is kinda driving me wild."

You flushed further, your lips parting in surprise before looking guilty. "I'm sorry-"

"A-again, it's fine. You just scent is just so damn-" He whimpered again, a soft cooing leaving the back of his throat as his body leaned towards yours subconsciously. You bit your lip, your own thighs tightening together at the subject at hand.

Is it bad that I like that he is affected by something as simple as my smell?

You felt embarrassed that your mind was even allowing itself to imagine what it would be like under him, moaning like a bitch in heat while he railed into you. Here was your boss technically that you were thinking about, images of him fucking you in so many ways wanting to flood your mind as he was so vulnerable in front of you. You had pressed him when he already ask you to leave, but you couldn’t help yourself as you wanted to offer any assistance at all to him. 

“Do you need help getting home? I could drive you- wait you said my smell is bothering you...” You realized a bit late about his admission from before, your heart aching for the man in front of you. “You have never had help with this? That must be so painful, I wish I...” You trailed off, your face getting hot at your own implication of your words, wanting to just bury yourself at your own mess up. 

It wasn’t like you crush was surprising, you were just a simple small town town girl who moved to a bigger city in hopes of helping people to be thrust into the arms of a handsome hero.

But you were never obvious in your affections towards the man, always trying to maintain a friendly relationship while telling yourself that any female wouldn’t blame you for letting you heart get away from you at the sight of his sexy charming smirk or his impressive speed and control over his quirk. You had spend almost a year with the man now, you honestly thought about him more often than you should have.

He was way more than just his gorgeous looks, with his kind nature and his witty personality. You knew there had to be a side of him that was hurt and damaged, catching glimpses of far away looks and sad frowns sometimes, but you wanted to learn more about him. To become closer to the man in front of you because you really had come to care for him. Which is why you felt like such a fool for risking that with blurting out your horny thoughts without thinking.

Meanwhile when you scolding yourself for your words, you didn’t see the way his wings fluttered at the implication you left hanging in the air.

She wishes she could what? Does she want to- even with knowing what I'm needing right now?

He couldn’t hold himself back, his eyes searching yours desperately as his mouth opened with a pleading heat to his words. “Would you? You- fuck, you barely know what this is. It’s really a lot and I don’t want you to feel pressured but-” A whining chirp left the back of his throat as he gripped at his chest, practically cooing in pleasure as you instinctively move in closer to him. 

“I really want you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, your underwear immediately growing damp at the lust coated words that seemed to drip off his tongue. The blonde just asking was him inadvertently telling you he wanted to get closer to you, making your chest flutter at the knowledge of him caring for you like you did for him. You felt like you should give it more thought, but your mind started to grow muddy with your own arousal as you swallowed quickly before answering with a breathy tone. “Tell me what to do.”

A beautiful groan left his lips as he suddenly stood with your eyes catching the sight of his hardened bulge before pulling you to your feet, backing away from you with a pained sigh and a shake of his hands. 

“If you are serious about this, meet me at my place. My pheromones could cloud your judgement since we’re so close together.... I n-need to get more comfortable and want to p-prepare just in case you do want to do this. Get some of your own clothes and things, I won’t let you leave my place if you come. Literally. I’ll text you my address, m-maybe look up what this is too. Just to be sure.”

The window was opened without further waiting, you watching with a flustered gaze as the crimson winged hero fly off into the distance.

You had some things to go do.

----------------------------------------------

You exited the elevator, walking forward towards the only door on the floor with a fluttering nervousness in your stomach. You thanked the gods that he wanted to prepare, giving you time to get a shower and shave yourself bare after a sweaty work day. 

Thankfully you hadn’t taken a day off since starting to work for the winged pro along with it being the start of a weekend you surprisingly had off as well. So you gathered up multiple outfits along with toiletries, approaching the door of Hawks with a a pounding in your ears. You had taken his advice to look up what his rut would entail, blushing scarlet at the mention of breeding and protectiveness one would feel. 

You knew he probably didn’t expect that of you, thankfully you were on the pill anyways. So it wasn’t like you couldn’t indulge on the basic instinct of it all though.

When you knocked, it was barely ten seconds later the door swung open rapidly making you jump slightly at the sight of the blonde male in front of you.

He looked a bit more, well, feral that you remembered. His eyes were almost molten in color, his chest barely hidden by a black tank top with sweats hanging low on his hips. His dirty blonde hair looked damp as well, his eyes raking over your form in a baggy shirt under a black jacket and shorts with a duffel bag over your shoulder. 

“(Y/N), I’m so glad you came.”

He tugged you in immediately, grabbing your duffel bag from you before gesturing for you to follow him after you kicked off your shoes at his door. He knew the moment he touched you for real, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back anymore, so he kept his contact brief with trying to get you situated, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible. 

“Sorry for the delay, I had to wait for the taxi for a bit...” You answered back shyly, your hands nervously fiddling with your jacket’s zipper as you entered his room. You knew in the back of your mind where this was going, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be so confident in the presence of such a attractive and stunning man like Keigo. 

“No- no you’re fine. I was preoccupied for a bit at least.” He answered in a husky tone, walking over to set your bag on a bench at the end of his bed. You felt yourself nearly drip at the effect his damn voice had on you, your eyes distracting you by finding the sight of his gigantic bed covered in pillows, blankets, towels, and other articles of clothing stuff along the nest-like structure. You honestly wanted to coo at the sight, it being adorable to you as you turned to see him looking back at you with a soft gaze. 

“Do.. do you like it? I know it’s kinda odd...I mean, it’s a pile of random shit that I like basically.”

You look at him while being slightly surprised at his hesitant tone, never knowing the cocky suave man in front of you to seek approval so openly. You wanted this to be a good experience for him as well, so you gave him a sultry grin as you nodded your head. “Of course, Keigo. I adore it. Very comfy lookin’ If I say so myself!”

The cooing chirps that answered made your heart warm, wanting nothing more than to be closer to Hawks after hearing his cute noises. Your feet were braver than you felt in the moment as you walked toward him, your fingertips trailing over his chest to wrap around his neck as his body shuddered under your touch while his fingers began to dig into your hips. 

He couldn’t take it anymore, your scent felt like it was engulfing him as he tugged you closer and smashed his lips against your soft ones. You moaned in the back of your throat, your bodies pressing together as the heat of the situation began to rapidly escalate faster than either of you had expected. His tongue entered your mouth smoothly, his taste already seeming unfairly addictive as he dominated the kiss so easily that had you feeling breathless already. He felt you grind slightly against his thigh, his cock twitching as the thought of what was to come. 

His lips left yours, his cheeks flushed making the black accent marks around his eyes stand out in the dimmed lighting of the room. “Please, can I fuck you?”

You nodded in response, already having made your decision by coming here in the first place. But the desperation in his tone had you gushing at the thought of having him buried deep within you. You knew what was to come and you could hardly wait to feel him touch you, hoping that it was better than you imagined and dreamed of.

He slid the jacket from your shoulders, you not resisting at all as he let the clothing drop to the floor and worked on your remaining clothing. He appreciated that when he helped you remove your shirt that you went without a bra, the sight of your perky nipples making a whimper leave his lips as he immediately dipped his head down to catch one of the buds between his teeth. 

You let a high pitched cry leave your lips, not expecting his nipping bite but didn’t complain in the slightest. Your quirk gave you a higher pain tolerance than many and despite your small innocent demeanor, you honestly liked it rough.

The crimson winged man noted your reaction as he sucked the areola into his mouth, his tongue swirling soothingly around your skin as he palmed your other breast. He couldn’t control the growl in his throat as he suckled against you sharply, drawing another whine to leave your throat as you felt your fingers shake as they wove into his blonde hair. You tugged at the strands in need as he hooked his arm under your ass and around your waist as he moved you to his bed. 

“Fuck- please, Keigo!” You moaned out, barely able to keep your eyes open as you stared forwards with such a sight like Hawks hovering above you as you raised your hips up as he understood and quickly slipped you bottoms off to leave you completely bare beneath him. 

He soaked in the sight feel of your soft skin under his, his eyes drinking in your body as he tugged off his own clothes knowing that he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. He honestly wished he could hold back long enough to go slow with you, but he was painfully hard and straining to feel you wrapped around his dick. 

He wasted no time as his slid his index finger along the folds of your pussy, groaning as he shoved his face in the crook of your neck to bite and suck harshly at the sensitive skin. You moaned more as he finally pressed a finger inside of you slowly but smoothly, the stretching comfortable as you began to grind you hips against his finger when it began to start thrusting into you. The speed increased steadily, his finger curling in just the right way to make you see a flash of white and a static to run over your skin in pleasure.

“O-of course you’re good at this.”

“Oh dove, I’m no where even close to started.” 

His grin was feral as he scooted down to hover his face over your freshly shaved pussy, breathing in your slick as you both could hear the lewd sounds of your sex every time his finger entered your spasming cunt. He groaned, the fingers of his free hand digging into your thigh to hold you open for him as he leaned close enough for you to feel his breath on your clit. “You smell delicious, my lovely bird. Can I-”

You cut him off in with an impatient whine, your eyes darkened in lust. “You don’t have to ask, Keigo. You can do whatever you want to me.”

Without another word his tongue slipped into your quivering pussy, his groans vibrating against you and causing you to gasp loudly clutch at his hair desperately as he drank from you. 

“You’re delicious, dovie.” He muttered, his tongue swirling back into your entrance and making you moaned loudly then tug at his hair again with a heavy flush settling on your skin. You felt your orgasm approaching faster than you though possible, your noises becoming more desperate as you tightened your grip in his messy locks. He shoved two fingers into you, curling them and rocking them into you harder and faster as your cries grew louder. 

“Hawks, I-I’m gonna- Ah!” You moaned loudly as he responded by quickening his pace, sucking your clit into his mouth and nibbling at the harden pearl while his pressed his fingers against your g-spot in just the right way.

Your crash had your body shuddering, Keigo removing his fingers to replace them with his mouth as his tongue scooped up as much of your essence that he could. Your hips circled from the over-simulation, the wings of the pro twitching and ruffling at every lapping of his tongue.

He moved to suck the rest of your cum from his fingers once he had thoroughly cleaned you to his liking, your chest heaving from the amazing feeling before giggling almost drunkenly as he flipped you onto your stomach. He smirked as he pulled your hips up and watched you immediately get into position by raising yourself onto your elbows since you were still slightly shaky. 

"I never expected you to be the type who would be so eager." He cooed teasingly as he shifted his knee to spread you further apart for him, the tip of his cock weeping at the sight of you so glistening and open for him.

You shot him a seductive grin over your shoulder, your own lidded gaze committing his flush state to memory as you drank in his chiseled torso and broad shoulders. "I have been dreaming of fucking you since I started working for you, so of course I'm a bit needy."

He groaned at your words, his wings seeming to shudder as he gripped himself and rubbed against your dripping slit. "Yeah? You wanted me for that long? You could have had me so much sooner, (Y/N)."

This earned a whine from your lips, your legs shaking in anticipation as you felt the engorged head of his cock grind against your gushing sex.

"I d-didn't think-" You were cut off by you own pleasure gasp, biting your tongue as you felt him enter you slowly without further teasing. 

“This c-could have been happening for so long now. Feeling you so wet and ready for me.”

He was thick and long but not uncomfortably so, the tip kissing your cervix as he bottomed out inside of you with a surprising gentleness to his touch despite the shaking of his fingers as they dug into your hips.

You could feel him holding back, waiting for you to adjust to his size until you sped up the process by grinding back against him teasingly.

A choked groan left his lips at sensation of your rippling warm walls hugging him so tightly, his talons digging into your skin as his hips stuttered against your own with a pained whimper leaving his own lips. His heat started to flood his body, near torturous as he tried to not rush you. "Please (Y/N), I can barely keep myself from-"

"Keigo, I'll b-be fine so move."

He couldn't take the pleading tone of your sweet voice, his teeth grinding together as his self control practically snapped.

His hips slammed into yours, a high pitched moan leaving you at the sudden movement before he began an almost brutal pace. His cock dragged against the walls of you cunt, the drool worthy friction sending you into a whimpering heap as he thrusted against you harder and harder.

You couldn't help yourself as you tried to grind your hips back in time with his, the male above you smirking at you for being so desperate for him. He found himself pausing at times to grind deeply within you, almost mockingly to remind you of starting the teasing.

"Fuck, Keigo-- Harder!"

His golden eyes soaked up you form, watching the way the flesh of you ass rippled every time his hips rutted against yours roughly like you begged for. He leaned over your body, feeling the primal need to mark you as his as his chest came to rest on your back as he rubbed his scent on you.

"You sound so good, dove. Let me hear you." His growl next to you ear had you practically on the edge of your second orgasm, eyes rolling back as his hand wrapped around you throat to drag you to bend towards him creating a pretty arch to your back. "H-Hawks-"

A choked cry was torn from you lips as his fingers tightened around you windpipe, his hips still slamming against yours at a nearly inhuman pace. "P-please! Fuck me, fill me up! Gods breed me!"

His pupils blew out in desire, your words having their intended affect as he felt his cock twitch at the thought of filling you. He knew he couldn’t last long after hearing such erotic things spilling from your lips.

"Fuck! I'm gonna make you mine, fill you over and over with my fuckin’ cum!" He snarled into your ear as his pace increasing somehow, releasing your neck to rub messy circles on your clit to drag you down with him. "I want you to cum with me, (Y/N, now."

You cried out at the extra simulation, your eyes practically crossing as you felt your release bubbling over. You had never orgasmed on command before, feeling the shake of you body as it spasmed under his hold.

He let out loud pleasured groan, slamming his hips into yours deeply to spill himself inside of you as he large red wings fanned out widely before curling around you both. He felt his cock getting milked by your needy pussy, practically clamping down on him as he let himself rest inside of you for a moment to catch his breath as well as bask in his connection to you.

A soft cooing noise was heard from the back of his throat, turning your head with a dazed well-fucked smile as he flushed at your state below him. You felt his soft feathers brush against your skin as he slowly sat up.

"You're adorable, Hawks." You murmured, shivering as he pulled himself out of you, your eyes immediately darting back to see his cock for the first time and felt you mouth practically water at the sight of it still hard as hell. "And sexy."

He felt his ego get stroked by your words, knowing that he cared more about how you viewed him more than anyone. He was honestly still in disbelief that he even had you here, willing to be with him and wanting to be close to him in such a way.

"All yours now, dove." He replied with a wink, about to move off of you to get a washcloth when you turned suddenly enough to startle him. In a jumble of limbs and feathers, he found himself stunned as you straddled his hips with a devilish curl to your lips. 

He immediately felt his dick twitch at the sight on you hovering over him, his eyes meeting yours as you began to speak with a lust dripping tone. “You know, Hawks, I noticed something quite interest about your rut~.”

He felt him shudder as her fingers trailed down his chest before moaning lowly as you wrapped your fingers around his cock to position the tip at your messy entrance. “W-wait dovie, I’m really sensitive but if you give me just a min-”

He couldn’t find it in him to make a move as you sank down onto his length with a breathy moan leaving your own lips as he felt the mixture of you both starting to drip onto his pelvic bone and thighs you began to grind against him easily. 

His crimson wings tried to feebly curl at the sensation, his eye squeezing shut as a dark red flush settled over his face at the over-stimulation as his breath began to leave him in heavy pants. He thought you weren’t going to continue talking as he tried to reach up and grab your hips once he adjusted to your heat once again. 

That is until one hand snatched his wrists to hold them above his head.

He felt his breath stutter as your free hand went to his wing, curling your fingers into the plume of soft feathers firmly but mindful in case he reacted poorly to such a change of positions as you leaned down to whisper in his ear. 

“I got you, pretty bird~ I wasn’t finished speaking.”

His reaction was beautiful though, a sharp gasp that turned into a lewd moan left his lip as his wings trembled at your surprising actions and seductive tone. He continued to grind up against you in response at such an unexpected turn of events. Your own eyes drank the sight of him looking so desperate beneath you as you began swirling your hips while you watched his face contort in pure pleasure at your ministrations. 

You knew you read about males becoming dominant, which you could easily see him doing, but he also seemed like he was equally as needy, wanting to establish something deeper and emotional. He was acting soft and gentle, which you never would have taken him for in the bedroom. 

Your mind connected the dots with his crooning noises and more thoughtful and almost bashful behavior at times since finding out about his rut, wanting to test if your theory was correct. 

“You are way more submissive, aren’t you Keigo?”

He choked out a groan, wanting to buck up against you until he felt you sliding up his length as you dragged him tortuously slow from your warm moist heat before dropping back down onto him roughly. He threw his head back with cry leaving his lips, a victorious smile forming on your lips as you began to set a steady pace of riding him in a slow and sensual manner.

You ignored his pleading to go faster for a while, enjoying the way he crumpled easily under your touch and was practically begging you to fuck him senseless as he tugged at your hold feebly. You knew he could overpower you easily if he truly wanted, but he seemed tamed under you.  

You only began to increase your pace when he was bucking back up against you with his cries got louder leaving his lips, wanting to soak up the sight of such a powerful man at your mercy. “Please, (Y/N) I need to touch you, please-!” 

You kissed him suddenly, the blonde male immediately opening his mouth and moaning as your sweet tongue danced against against his. He felt himself getting close until you suddenly stopped bouncing on top of him, your hips slowing to a grind again that had him whimpering against your lips as you pulled away from him to move the hand from his wing to grasp his chin in a firm hold. 

Your (e/c) orbs seared into his, the man melting into your touch as he felt more of your slick gush around his cock that made his eyes roll slightly at the feeling. 

“Be honest when answering my question and you can fuck me to your heart’s content. You’ll get to fill me up as many times as you want and use me like your own personal toy.”

He nodded quickly, his wrists tugging at your grip as he wanted nothing more in the moment than to just keep fucking you until you both were unable to move. “Fuck! A-anything! Whatever you want, please!” 

Your lips couldn’t help but curl further at the sound of his needy voice, but decided you had your fun. “How long have you wanted to fuck me, Hawks? How long have you wanted to fuck the pro hero, Death Defy?”

You were barely able to hide your surprise as the answer left his mouth immediately with no hesitation or shame. 

“Since I h-heard you laugh the first day after I found your coffee shop. I loved how your laugh s-sounded  and you looked so sexy in your tights-”

“Fuck-”

You let go of his wrists, the blonde man wasting no time in pushing you onto you back while rolling his legs under himself to hook your knees to press them back into you as his hips started to piston into yours again at a break neck speed. 

“God, I love your pussy so much-”

It was all so smooth, your head spinning at how he was able to get you under his spell again so easily, moaning loudly as your cunt was stretched from such a delicious angle that he was able to achieve as he pounded into you.

His breath was puffing out over your ear, heating you as he lost himself in the feel of your body as his hips blurred at his motion. The slaps of skin on skin echoed along the moans and grunts heard from you both. “Keigo fuck-- your cock is so good!”

When you felt him shift into the position that head you seeing stars you felt yourself talk, though your words felt almost like they were an echo in your own ears. “Gods, I’ll never want anyone else! I love you!”

You thought you had kept your words in your mind safe where they belonged until you felt his hips stutter against yours, his answering moan making your body shake as he began to thrust deeply into you almost with a purpose. His golden orbs locked onto your dazed ones as he knew he couldn’t last much longer.

“Christ, I love you, (Y/N)!”

You were felt yourself come undone as he pounded into you harshly, crying out as he continued to rail into you for another moment before bottoming out and filling you up as deeply as he could. 

Both of you panted at the buzz of energy that still hung in the air, both staring at the other in a surprised high as they tried to process how the sex had went from amazing to otherworldly in just one attempt. 

You wrapped your arms around the crimson winged male, pulling him down with a low whine in your throat as he rested his body against yours while holding his weight off you a bit still. You just wanted the closeness, pressing your lips to his sweaty shoulder as he shivered slightly at the feeling along with the gentle squeeze of you around his cock as he had to pull out of you. 

He turned to press his lips to the side of your neck, smirking as he felt you shiver still under his touch.

“So, you love me?” He asked, his eyes glinting as he watched the pretty flush on your face darken while suddenly growing more bashful in the afterglow. 

“I-I mean, I f-feel like I do but don’t let that sca-” Hawks pressed his lips to yours soft ones to cut you off, parting after leaving you breathless once again with a soft look to his eyes and a adoring smile on his face. “I said it back, dove. Your confidence should stick around a bit more.”

You felt like you were in bliss, Keigo coming to gently rest in arm under your breasts with his wing covering you like a blanket before he broke the silence that started to settle over you.

“.....Ready for another go?”

“Fuck yes.”

[badacts]

Dick and Jason Dick and Jason Dick and Jason Dick and Jason Dick and Jason Dick and Ja

this is pretty ridiculous, but so are dick and jason, so

also the premise of this is admittedly a little grim, but also it’s the two-dudes-and-a-baby trope ft. dick grayson: no idea about babies

Shooter versus pre-Christmas shoppers in an East Side mall. Civilian only, no masks. It’s a bloodbath, and Dick’s only here in time for the cleanup.

“O,” he says on the way down to ground level, “Send whoever’s free and whatever supplies they’ve got. I’m going to start triaging.”

The part of being a bat that goes without saying is that they’re also, when required, first responders. It’s not the first time he’s ever worked alongside GCPD during a mass casualty, and it won’t be the last.

It’s also the part of the job that gets the closest to turning his stomach. The screaming and the crying and the systematic first identifications of who needs help and who they’re too late for - it’s awful.

He gets to work anyway. 

The paramedics from the first ambulance on the scene take charge, arranging the transport of the worst-off victims and coordinating the further arrivals. Dick does as he’s ordered and works on stabilising some of the seriously wounded, working to keep them from going critical. He goes through his supply of wound dressings quick, nodding his thanks when an EMT shoves another pile onto him on her way past.

He’s not the only mask out: it’s a busy night in Gotham, but he catches sight of Batgirl across the roiling crowd as well as the shadow of Cass’s silhouette against the rolling blue-red-blue lights. The flash of a more vivid red in the corner of his eye makes him think, Red Robin, but it’s not the right colour, and definitely not the right shape for Tim. Jason, the sleeves of his jacket rolled up over his forearms and wearing latex gloves, is putting a pressure bandage on a teenager’s upper arm.

“Hi, Nightwing,” an unfamiliar voice says in a familiar I’m-here-to-take-over tone. “Hi ma’am. You’re up for a ride in the next taxi.”

His patient is most of the way unconscious, but she blinks at this in vague acknowledgment. She’s avoided a bullet, but broken her leg badly enough in the crush of the fleeing crowd to show bone. 

“There’s the leg, and I suspect some kind of crush injury to the abdomen,” Dick supplies, moving to make room for the stretcher. “I think she got trampled. Not very responsive either.”

“Any drugs on board?” The EMT asks, hands moving deftly.

“I don’t carry any.” And if he did, he would have used it all up about five victims ago.

“That explains a lot about you,” the EMT says. "We’ve got another two buses here to take the last of the seriously injured over to General, and backup from the GCPD. If you want to move onto patching the walking wounded, go ahead. Anyone who’s good with some disinfectant and a bandaid can head over to talk with the cops.”

Dick nods and gives the woman a last squeeze to her forearm before he clears out of the way. The walking wounded are congregated on the other side of the street, but he doesn’t go in that direction - his priority is still helping, but it’s amazing how even injured people get curious when faced by a Gotham vigilante in the flesh. That’s really not the way he wants to have his identity outed.

Instead, he heads over to Jason’s side where he’s handing off his own patient for transport, their thigh strapped tight with pressure dressings. Jason, standing and snapping his gloves off, says, “Old man.”

“Hood,” Dick says, but he’s thinking Little Wing because he always is when it’s the two of them. They’re drawing looks now even in the dim streetlights - probably Jason, all six-two of him topped with that stupid shiny helmet. “You sticking around?”

“If I -” Jason says, and then breaks off. At the same time as Jason’s head tilts, Dick hears it: a quiet crying, just barely audible in the din.

Dick’s ears are good, but Jason has to have the advantage of auditory enhancement in his hood because he zones in on the noise like a hunting dog. “I think that’s-”

There’s an alley with an access door at the end of it illuminated with a shitty fluorescent branching off the street. It’s otherwise dark as any other Gotham alley, crowded with dumpsters. It takes Dick a moment to pick the odd thing out - a crumpled figure hidden amidst the trash cans.

He makes it to their side first, finding a glaze-eyed young woman clasping something to her chest. The cognitive dissonance of her silence and the now-louder crying catches him out, but Jason catches on quick.

“-a baby,” he finishes, taking a knee on the woman’s other side. He moves as though to slip the bundle from her arms, but her arms tighten even as she hisses in reaction.

“It’s okay,” Dick says to her, “We’re here to help you both. What’s your name?”

She seems to come around a little, eyes flicking between the two of them. She stays quiet for a long moment, and then rasps, “Uh, Mira. You’re Nightwing.”

“Hi, Mira,” Dick says. “Are you hurt?”

“Oh, uh, my shoulder,” she says, and then her eyelids flutter like she’s about to pass out. Dick takes her pulse from her throat and finds it comfortingly strong.

“And your baby?” Dick asks. The bundle certainly sounds lively enough at this distance, but that doesn’t mean they’re not hurt.

“She’s okay,” Mira says, like she’s reassuring herself. “She’s okay. Can you?” 

Which is how Dick finds himself accepting an armful of bawling baby from a wincing, bleeding woman in an alley. “Oh. Okay. Sure.”

Meanwhile, Jason focusses on peeling Mira’s jacket away to reveal a nasty gunshot to the shoulder, high enough that it’s probably mostly missed her right lung but low enough to avoid rebounding off her scapula and bouncing around in her chest cavity. Non-vital, but bleeding badly. 

Mira watches Jason take out a patch dressing and seal it over the wound. She puffs, “I thought…you were…a bad guy.”

“I’m flexible,” Jason replies distractedly, taking out a roll of gauze and wrapping it tight around the shoulder for good measure. “You’re lucky. Little surgery, little hospital stay, you’ll be right as rain.”

That’s no guarantee - she could have more serious injuries than it seems, could get a secondary infection, could drop dead of a thousand different complications or unfair turns of fate in the next hour. However, Dick knows Jason isn’t the type to lie to anyone for comfort. If he’s saying it, he believes it.

Mira’s eyes bulge. “I can’t go…to hospital!”

“Sugar, the one benefit of living in Gotham is the rich folks like to pay hospital bills to assuage their guilt or whatever. Take advantage of that,” Jason advises, and then says to Dick, “Move.”

Dick steps to the side automatically, still holding his squealing burden. “What?”

“No, move. Babies like to move.”

“Oh.” Stiff-armed and feeling like the clumsiest man on earth, Dick sort of…sways. “Like this?”

“Oh my days, Nightwing,” Jason says, in the precise tone he’d usually say ‘Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Dick’. Apparently, he doesn’t deem that language appropriate for the baby. Or maybe Mira.

“I can’t,” Mira interrupts, “I can’t go. They - They’ll take her.”

Jason stiffens a touch in his crouch. Dick says, “Who?”

“The cops,” Mira gasps. “The - CPS. They’ll take her. I won’t get her back.” Her teeth are chattering - shock. 

“You got hurt,” Dick says, attempting a bounce on his toes. He feels a bit like he’s holding a small angry tiger. “This is Gotham. That happens.”

“No, you,” she says, and then closes her eyes and shakes.

Jason reaches across her body and takes her arm. For a moment Dick is dumbstruck, thinking he’s about to watch his little brother comfort someone who isn’t under the age of 15 or his family, but Jason is just turning her arm over to the light. The crook of her elbow is scarred up with pink-white marks.

Mira opens her eyes and stares up at Jason. For a long moment they’re caught in a tableau, her dead-eyed and patient, him silent and judgmental as an old saint.

Voice low, Jason asks, “You using?”

She shakes her head slowly, not breaking her gaze. “Not - not since before her.”

Dick says, more to Jason than her, “That won’t matter. At worst, the baby will spend a few days in respite-”

“Shut up,” Jason replies, and then says to Mira, “If you don’t go to hospital, you’re going to lose her anyway. Except it’ll be because you’re dead.”

“You think I…don’t know that?” she hisses back. “I don’t got family. Her dad’s a deadbeat. It’s just me and her.” The phrase I can’t lose her hovers, unspoken but clear as day in the set of her jaw.

Jason stands. Dick isn’t sure what he’s expecting, but it’s certainly not for Jay to walk to him and lift the baby out of his arms. He holds her the other way around from Dick, head to his shoulder and legs towards his belt, hand cupped careful over the back of her skull. He looks not only more capable than Dick with her, but more capable than anyone Dick knows.

“You got kids?” Mira rasps at him.

Jason laughs. “Christ no.” In his arms, the baby is quieting down, snuffling instead of screaming. She’s a red-faced scrap of humanity, no more than a few months old as far as Dick can tell. Sweet, in any other circumstance.

“Are you nursing or bottle-feeding?” Jason asks without looking up from her.

Dick makes a noise like a squeaky toy that’s been stepped. Thankfully neither of the others seem to notice. Mira says, “Bottle. I don’t - I don’t got the meat on my bones to feed her, I reckon.”

“I’ll do you a deal, then,” Jason says, and he reaches to the back of his neck and flicks the release on his helmet. It hisses slightly as he pops it off, leaving the domino on but exposing the clean human lines of his face. The move turns him from one of Crime Alley’s most fearsome denizens into a young man with truly terrible helmet hair. “You go to the hospital and let them fix you up. I’ve got a friend who fosters who’ll look after her until you get out, no questions asked.”

Mira stares at him for a long moment, and then carefully - and inadvisably - levers herself off of the asphalt to her feet. Then she says, “You do it.”

Jason’s face creases. “What? No. Definitely not.”

“You’re good with her,” Mira says. 

“I ain’t a babysitter.” It’s only partly belied by the ease with which he’s handling the baby.

“I don’t know your friend. I know you.”

“No.” Red Hood is Gotham’s third most stubborn person, behind their younger brothers. That’s infused in the single syllable. 

Mira sways, swallows. “Please.”

Jason looks at her for a long moment. Dick can’t really make out his expression under the domino, but doesn’t need to in order to know that it’s Jay’s particular brand of piercing consideration. Dick used to think he’d learned it from Bruce, but now that they’re both older he’s inclined to think it predates the Bat.

Then Jason sighs, and very obviously rolls his eyes. “Jesus, fine. On your freakin’ head be it, though.”

Mira’s eyes close as she lets out a relieved sigh. The swaying is more obvious now. Dick wraps an arm around her waist the split-second before her knees give out, swinging her up into his arms.

“I should give you my number,” Mira says into Dick’s collarbone. 

“You think I can’t find you?” Jason replies, disparaging. “I’m the Red Hood.”

“Let’s get her a ride out of here,” Dick suggests, before it can devolve further. Mira’s outlook is getting bleaker by the minute - they don’t really have time for her to change her mind now, and he knows if she does Jason will happily continue talking in circles until she makes a decision. 

The scene in the street is much the same, even though it feels like they’ve been in the alley for a thousand years. Dick takes her to one of the ambulances parked up on the corner, sending people scattering out of his way. 

“Her name’s Rachel,” Mira says faintly. “You’ll help him, right?”

“Sure,” Dick replies, and then to the waiting EMT as he deposits Mira straight onto her gurney, “Got another one for you. Gunshot to the shoulder.”

“Got it,” comes the brisk reply. Dick hovers for a second when he should be getting out of here, caught in the grip of uncertainty.

The subject of that uncertainty is currently being zipped into the front of Jason’s body armour. “Good thing she’s so little. Toddler would be a tight fit.” 

“Yeah, it’s great,” Dick mutters, noting the careful arm Jason curls around his chest to keep her steady. He’s got his helmet back on, at least. “Go.”

“Going,” Jason says, and melts away into the crowd like a guy his size definitely should not be able to do.

“Did he have a baby?” The EMT asks tentatively.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dick replies.

*

Dick catches up with Jason a couple of rooflines over. He’s not exactly moving as fast as he usually does. “Where’s your helmet?”

“Stashed it,” Jason replies easily. “It’s like a target. That isn’t the look I’m going for right now.”

Huh. Dick says, “Let’s take her to GCPD.”

Jason looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “What?”

“Social workers? People who know about babies? This ringing any bells?”

“Dick, I just promised not to do that.”

Dick sputters. “I didn’t think you were serious!”

“As death,” Jason replies, and smirks when Dick frowns at him. “Besides, didn’t you used to be a cop? They didn’t teach you anything about little kids?”

“Cops don’t arrest babies.” He can sense Jason’s judgment. “I only dealt with the ones old enough to talk.”

“Right,” Jason snickers, as though Dick’s somehow the weird one here. “C’mon. I’ve got somewhere.”

“I’m not coming with you.” Dick has better things to do. Also, he doesn’t want to. Jason might make him hold the baby again.

“You promised to help.”

“I didn’t pinky swear,” Dick grumbles, but he follows along anyway. After a couple of minutes of quiet he adds, “The care workers - they’re good people.”

“Lots of ‘em, sure,” Jason agrees. “I’d still have slept on cardboard in a back alley ten times over if it meant keeping myself out of the system, though.”

Dick doesn’t have much to say to that. His unfortunate childhood aside, he had his parents, and then he had Bruce, and then he was a legal adult. He never faced the threat of state care, or homelessness.

They touch down on the fire escape of an apartment building that Dick recognises but hasn’t been into. Jason one-handedly disarms what looks like a taser trap and then lets them in through the window, folding himself gingerly to get inside without squashing his cargo.

She lets out a little cry as Jason sheds his jacket and takes her out, little fists bunched and pulled tight to her chest. Jason says, “She’s cold. Grab the blanket off my bed.”

“Do you speak baby?” Dick asks, perturbed by the thought. 

Jason dumps off his domino, probably to give Dick the full force of his eyeroll. “Blanket, big bird.”

The blanket in question is a pretty quilt in shades of indigo, splayed across the unmade bed. Dick picks it up and brings it back out to the lounge, offering it to Jason.

“Good,” Jason says, wrapping her in it. “Sit down.”

“Huh?” Dick asks, though he does it anyway. The next thing he knows, the bundled grizzling baby is in his lap. “No!”

“Yes,” Jason growls, like he’ll pin Dick to the couch if necessary. “I need to make her some food. You just sit there and hold her up until I’m done.”

“Can’t she just lie on the couch?” Dick asks. She’s even smaller pillowed on his thighs, not much longer than a foot by the looks. 

“No.” Jason’s already in the kitchen, his voice half lost over clattering.

“Fine,” Dick says, more to the baby - Rachel - than to Jason. “Do you really keep baby food around?”

“Just formula and bottles,” Jason replies. “And some diapers.”

“Just in case you find a lost baby?”

“No. Because sometimes people need that shit, and they’re more likely to take it from the back of my pantry than if I offer to buy it for them.” More rustling. “Also, my neighbour’s a single mom. Sometimes I watch her kids.”

“Who’s your friend? The one who fosters?”

“Mind your own business, Grayson. I’ve just got to sterilise this bottle.”

Dick has a sudden mental image of Jason firing up an autoclave in the kitchen. He looks down at Rachel, who’s looking back at him. She has her fingers in her mouth. “How long do you think Mira will be in hospital?” 

“A few days, at least.”

“You’re going to look after this kid for days?”

Jason laughs. “Jesus, Dick, it’s not like it’s hard. She’s little. All they do is eat and sleep and make dirty diapers at this age.“

Now Dick’s imagining Red Hood patrolling with Rachel in one of those baby backpacks. Maybe one made of kevlar, though. “What about work?”

“A few days off never killed anyone,” Jason replies. “I’ll catch up on my shows.”

“His shows,” Dick mutters to Rachel. “Hey, you can’t eat yourself. Stop that.” He gently pulls her fingers away from her mouth, wincing a little at the slimy texture. Rachel, unperturbed, tries to put Dick’s finger in her mouth instead. Her eyes are huge and very blue, her hair fair and tufty where the blanket has ruffled it up.

“Here,” Jason says, waving a bottle in front of Dick’s nose. “She might want it warm, but try this first.”

“Oh, I can’t-” Dick manages to get out before Jason literally pushes the bottle into his baby-drool hand. “I don’t know what I’m doing!”

“She does, though,” Jason points out. “Relax, Dickie. Here.”

He twists Dick’s arm until the bottle is inverted and in the range of Rachel’s mouth. Dick notices that her concentration has shifted onto the bottle, her little mouth open like a baby bird. “Keep it tilted up so she doesn’t suck in too much air.”

She latches on and sucks. Dick, surprised, says, “Holy shit, look at that.”

Jason chuckles. “You got it. Now just let her do the work.”

Dick watches her guzzle the bottle. “She’s kinda cute. You know, when she’s not screaming.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re now enjoying one of the two tolerable parts of a baby at this age - eating and sleeping. The only times when they’re not crying.”

“You can’t find it that intolerable.” After all, no one’s making Jason babysit enough that he’s clearly more than just competent. 

“I got depths,” Jason replies with a shrug, as though Dick didn’t realise that. “Bottle up, pal. Seriously, you haven’t heard screaming until your neighbour wakes you up at 3AM to take a turn with a colicky baby.”

“Remind me to never, ever have kids,” Dick mutters. In his lap, Rachel has already almost drained the bottle. She’s slowed right down, her eyes nearly rolling in her head as she struggles to keep them open. “I think she’s tired.”

“Good. Now, put her up on your shoulder and rub her back a little.”

“Really?” Dick asks, awkwardly maneuvering her up his chest. She stretches a little when he makes circles on her teeny back. “Wait, isn’t this the part when babies-”

Rachel hiccups a little, and Dick feels a trace of wetness along the seam of his uniform around his neck. He sighs.

“Well,” Jason says, biting back a laugh. “Here, let me.” He lifts her away, easy as pie. “I’ll deal with the diaper situation. You get a clean shirt.”

“You’re too kind,” Dick says, and actually means it, “But you should know that I’m going to get you for that later.”