#hostage highways

[devouringbodies]

It's so over

We're So Back

[octoooo]

Lmao I thought this was funny, based on this post by @myreygn

[ferromagnetiic]

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | CIVILIAN CASUALTIES | anon. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | GET OUT OF MY WAY | ask. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | BLOOD AND IRON-WILLED | open. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | RED RIOT | memes. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | SCUM OF THE EARTH | reblogs. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | LULLABY FOR A SADIST | music. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | HIGHWAY TO HELL | queue. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | UNFORTUNATE HOSTAGE | ooc. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | GETTING AWAY WITH MURDER | crack. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | METAL JUNKYARD | saved. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | ANIMAL WITH NO NAME | canon. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | SUPERNOVA GOES POP | headcanon. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | SMEARED LIPSTICK | nsfw. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | LET THE SPARKS FLY BABY | shou. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | NOTORIOUS MISFIT | pre timeskip. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | REWIRED RAGE MACHINE | post timeskip. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | SHIFTING GEARS | modern. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | OUR TIME WILL COME BUT NOT TODAY | killer. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | GONNA TAKE ON THE WORLD SOMEDAY | childhood. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | DEAD BODIES EVERYWHERE | promos. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | GENTLE AIN'T HARD ENOUGH ; BUT ANY MORE IS JUST TOO MUCH | kidshou. 】

【 ⚙ ˊˎ | IN THE WRONG KIND OF CASINO ; SPINNING OUT ON MY ONLY TENNER | dash games. 】

[rafey-baby]

hidden 2

cw: hostage situation, outlaw!rafe getting injured and reluctantly letting pogue!reader clean him up, suggestive & him being sleazy

wc: 2k

hope u enjoy xx

part 1 & part 3

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

It’s past midnight and Rafe is driving over the speed-limit. He had said something about handling business and then more or less shoving her into the passenger seat of his truck before she even had the chance to open her mouth in objection.  

The island sky is as dusky as the bottom of the ocean as he races through the soundless highway that reminds her of the yellow brick road; never-ending and with no certainty of what’s looming at the finish line. 

She sits silently on the passenger seat because even if she was curious as to where exactly they were headed to, she’s well aware that he wouldn’t tell her if she asked.    

Her heavy lids fall closed to the calming noise of the wind picking up outside the vehicle and she’s so exhausted she falls asleep within minutes. Therefore, she’s not sure how much time has passed before she’s jostled awake to him turning off the engine in an empty parking lot. 

“Don’t even think about opening the door, alright?” A heavy warning lingers in his tone as he’s tucking his gun in the waistband of his pants and grabbing a thick wad of cash from the glove compartment.  

She hums her acknowledgment and watches his actions; wandering eyes filled with questions. However, he merely offers her a brief glance and then he’s throwing open the door and disappearing into the eerily serene night; leaving her alone in the dimly lit space with her nervous inhales and exhales the only thing keeping her company.  

She tries to peer through the window, squinting in order to see where he’s run off to but the faint glow of the street lamps provides little to no help, making her impatiently tap her nails against the center console as she waits for him to return. She presses her ear to the window but unfortunately no sounds other than the rustling of the leaves in the trees surrounding the area reach her eardrums.  

She sighs.  

What if something happens? 

She knows that he doesn’t need for her to worry over him but she can’t help it. No matter how terrible of a person he is, she doesn’t wish for anything bad to happen to him. After all, she’s not a carefully programmed robot entirely void of human emotions, is she?

The mellow memory of him reluctantly trying to soothe her after her outburst the other day still lingers at the forefront of her mind and turns her initial thoughts regarding him into something softer. After all, she was certain he was going to kill her because she had threatened him with his gun. However, he merely seemed entertained by her stupid bravery, opting to mock her instead of showing a single ounce of actual fear.

And she doesn’t know why, but there’s this peculiar flutter in her tummy whenever her brain decides to mull over the moment of him wrapping his big arms around her shaky body in an almost gentle manner.  

She wants to forget about it, ignore it and simply despise him for forcing her to help him, but she can’t. Can’t help the fact that even if she’s utterly terrified of him, there’s also something about him that almost fascinates her; lures her in and makes her want to figure him out and she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to think of that.  

There’s something enticing about the way he’s such a polar opposite to her; not only is he a Kook but he’s also violent and hostile whereas she doesn’t even have the heart to kill a bug. His demeanor is aggressive and she thought that was all there was but then he goes on and practically hugs her when she’s a trembling mess with salty tears streaking her cheeks. 

All of it confuses her to no end; disarranging her cerebrum and making foreign emotions bubble in her chest like molten lava. Or maybe she’s just touch-deprived; starving for whatever attention Rafe is suddenly offering her so generously.  

She doesn’t necessarily want to think about any of it right now though; opting to stare out into the gloom of the night and forcing her mind somewhere else entirely when all at once, the driver’s side door slams open and her head snaps towards it; eyes startled and heart jumping in her chest at the instantaneous intrusion.  

”Calm down, ‘s just me,” Rafe mutters, sounding out of breath; exhales harsh and chest rising and falling like a madman as he slumps down on the leather seat, eyes flitting over her tense form. “You seriously didn’t move?” He huffs out. “Such a good little puppy, huh?”  

At that, she comes to the conclusion that she’s definitely craving a very specific type of attention when her thighs involuntarily press together at his twisted notion of praise.  

”You— uh…you okay?” She cautiously asks, ignoring the warmth scattering along the apples of her cheeks.  

”I’m fine,” he mumbles before starting the engine and speeding back out onto the road that’s still sound asleep; the pitch black sky beginning to fade into a darkened navy blue with the dim glimmer of the street lamps illuminating their journey.  

She then gets a better look at him and notices a few cuts and bruises adorning his tired face. There’s a particularly deep scrape on his cheekbone; crimson transferring to the back of his hand when he mindlessly swipes over it.  

”Rafe…you’re bleeding. What happened?” She exclaims, uneasiness coating her tone. 

”Don’t worry, okay? Just had some, uh…disagreements. Should honestly see the other guy,” a lazy smirk paints over his face as he lets out a dry chuckle. 

”Rafe, those could get infected or something. Do you want me to clean them up for you?” 

”It’s just a few scratches, you’re acting as if I’m bleeding out,” he rolls his eyes, turning exasperated. 

”I’m being serious, you can’t exactly go to the doctor if those actually end up getting infected, can you?” She argues with a pout.     ”Shit, are all Pogues this fucking stubborn or just you? Told you, it’s fine,” he snaps in disdain, knuckles turning white from their grip on the steering wheel. 

”It’s not fine, though. Can you just…can you just let me help you? It’ll take like ten minutes and then you don’t have to worry about it anymore,” she rakes a hand through her hair in frustration because in her opinion Rafe is the one being stubborn right now.  

”I’m not worrying about it!” His gravelly voice thunders from his chest, making her flinch. 

“Well, I am,” her tone is quiet now; slightly regretting bringing the topic up in the first place.     At that, he lets out an irritated sigh and then he’s abruptly pulling over to a parking lot next to some gas station.

She turns to look at him with a surprised expression.  

”Don’t have all day. Get the fucking first aid kit from the glove box,” he grumbles out a harsh demand.  

”O— okay,” her face begins to light up in victory as she scurries to open the compartment in front of her, rummaging through it and trying to not pay attention to the plastic baggies filled with white powder or the wads of cash her hand comes in contact with.  

At last, her tentative fingertips find the small red bag she was looking for. However, when she turns to face him again, he’s not initiating any sort of movement, simply spreading his legs out in front of him in his slouched position and peering down at her expectantly. 

She hesitates.  

”You’re not gonna…move?” 

”If you wanna play nurse so fucking bad then you have no problem sitting on my lap, right? Not gonna reach all the way from there, are ya?” His tone is mocking and she can practically feel the cherry blush crawling up her face. 

”Oh, right. Um— yeah. I’ll just…” She blinks and then she’s clumsily climbing over the console and awkwardly lowering down to stumble into his lap. He merely looks at her with a bored expression; annoyance swimming in the lagoons of his eyes as he glares at her, clearly bothered by the fact that he has to waste his precious time on something as trivial as this.  

She huffs before timidly opening the first aid kit and trying to settle down on his lap. However, with his long legs sprawled out in the legroom he’s not exactly making it easy for her; being petty and difficult on purpose as she takes out a clean cotton pad and dampens it with some antiseptic spray.  

”Can you just…” she trails off before gingerly taking ahold of his jaw and lifting his face in order to examine the injuries better.

He lets her freely maneuver his head as she pleases and despite the sting, not even flinching when she gently dabs over a smaller cut on his jaw. Merely letting his gaze flicker over her features; making her grow nervous under his curious eyes as she tries to concentrate on the vermilion spots on his face and not the way he’s soundlessly observing her.

Or the fact that she’s currently closer to him than she’s ever been before. Can feel the even breaths from his nose tickling the skin of her lower face when she leans down to get a better angle.

“So…you’re a drug dealer or?” She decides to try her luck, not being able to sweep the cocaine in the glove compartment under the rug so carelessly.  

“What did I say about questions, Puppy?” He scolds her instead of answering.  

“Right, sorry,” her eyes drop down. At least she tried. 

She doesn’t say anything more, instead focuses all her attention on cleansing the scrapes and tries not to pay any mind to the fact that as an afterthought, this position is incredibly improper and she’s not entirely sure why she agreed to it so easily.

Upon careful consideration, she thinks she’s entirely too aware of his sturdy muscles underneath her and it’s turning her respiration more labored by each wipe over his face.

“Thinkin’ about going to Guadeloupe next week,” he utters out after several minutes of silence. 

”You are?”  

”Mhm. My family owns a house there,” his low-pitched tone is calm; almost relaxed. 

”But, how are you—” her brows crease in a question.  

”I have a private jet,” he states as if it should be obvious; he is a proud Kook, after all.  

”Right. Of course you do,” she shakes her head when the corners of his mouth tug up.  

”How long are you gonna stay there?” She asks as she lifts her hand to swipe the saturated cotton over the deeper wound on his cheekbone.  

”Don’t know, ’til I figure something else out,” he shrugs.  

She hums and then shuffles around in his lap some more, trying to wriggle upwards in order to not fall off. However, as she’s shifting into a more comfortable position, he suddenly lets out a low grunt from the back of his throat. 

“Shit, Puppy. You really gotta move around so much?” He murmurs, promptly resting warm palms on her hips, halting her movements altogether.  

“S— sorry,” her eyes round out when she can suddenly feel a slight bulge in his pants.

”If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re tryna get me hard on purpose, hm?” A breathy chuckle escapes his lips along with amusement glittering in blue gemstones as he inspects her flushed face with intrigue.  

”Oh, no— I’m not…was just— trying not to fall,” her words are rushed; thoroughly embarrassed as she blinks repeatedly.

“Just, uh…stay still, yeah? Need me to steady you?” He rasps before strong arms are holding her upright by a firm grip on her waist.  

”Thanks,” her voice is a muted whisper and she tries not to seem so affected as she gets a new cotton pad and begins to scrub off some of the dried scarlet from under his bottom lip; not daring to shift an inch after that.

[lxclerc]

𝐟𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 | 𝐚𝐥𝟏𝟐

summary… arthur is absolutely obsessed with his girlfriend and everyone needs to know request… yes but its for @coffeehurricanes again faceclaim… olivia rodrigo pairing… arthur leclerc x singer! reader

note… i’m being held hostage and the only ransom is arthur leclerc smaus

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

arthurlovesyn

liked by arthur_leclerc, yourusername and others

arthurlovesyn featuring the most gorgeous girl in the world

view all comments…

user1 if he isn't as obsessed with me as arthur leclerc is with his gf then i don't want it

user2 she's so girlfriend in all of the photos arthur posts 🥹🥹

arthur_leclerc the most beautiful truly!

⤷ user3 arthur commenting on here as if he isn't the one running this fan page lmao

⤷ charles_leclerc mate, you need help

user4 if they ever break up, i don’t believe in love anymore

user5 look at her smile omg 🥹

yourusername baby, you’re right next to me

⤷ arthurlovesyn the world needed to see how gorgeous you are

⤷ user6 thank you for your service, arthur 🫡

arthur_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pascale_leclerc and others

arthur_leclerc she’s everything, i’m just ken but that’s kenough for me

view all comments…

user1 it wasn’t enough that arthur runs a wholeass fan page for y/n. his main account also needs to be a y/n fan account

user2 they mean so very much to me 🥹

pascale_leclerc demande lui quand elle reviendra. elle me manque beaucoup !!! (ask her when she’s coming over again. i miss her dearly!!!)

⤷ yourusername je saute dans un avion tout de suite pour toi, maman leclerc ! (jumping on a plane right now for you, mama leclerc!)

⤷ user3 y/n learning to speak french to be able to communicate with the important people in arthur’s life will never not make me want to cry

yourusername actually you’re everything to me 🤍

⤷ olliebearman you’re making arthur cry again

⤷arthur_leclerc IM NOT CRYING OLLIE

⤷ arthur_leclerc Je t'aime pour toujours, ma belle 🤍

⤷ user4 not ollie coming for arthur’s neck like that 😭

⤷ user6 THEYRE EVERYTHING TO ME

charles_leclerc you two make me nauseous

⤷ lorenzotl they are in love, charles

⤷ arthur_leclerc not that charles would ever know what being in love feels like 🤣

⤷ charles_leclerc 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

⤷ user5 charles fr catching some mad strays in this thread

yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc, pascale_leclerc, and others

yourusername i hope i never lose you, i hope it never ends

view all comments…

user1 y/n wanted everyone to know that she is, in fact, as obsessed with arthur as much as arthur is obsessed with her

user2 stargazing!!! in!!! the!!! middle!!! of!!! the!!! highway!!!

arthur_leclerc i’ve been sleeping in a 20 year dark night but now i see daylight 🤍🤍

⤷ user3 he quoted daylight 😭😭😭😭😭😭

⤷ yourusername i love you deeply, my sunshine 🤍

⤷ user4 i’m going to kms

taylorswift ❤️❤️❤️

⤷ yourusername mother 🧎‍♀️

⤷ user5 MOTHER

⤷ user6 when mother approves, you know he’s the one

[siryouarebeingmocked]

Canadian Newspaper Globe And Mail: Conservative Leader wants harsher jail sentences for repeat offender auto thieves.

Nora Loreto, self-described Socialist: Stealing cars is a victimless crime!

Loreto: Also, most people in our jails are innocent!

Loreto: As long as you use the extremely technical definition of “jail” that means “a place where people are usually held before trial and are therefore legally innocent”, which is not how it is generally used.

Loreto: I say this while ignoring how car theft means there is a victim, by definition.

Me:

Some idiot also claimed the real issue was car manufacturers making a ‘defective product’, and the “logical step” should be the government going after them for obvious collusion with insurance companies.

The intellectual titan agreed.

Even though about five seconds thought would go “wait, wouldn’t having an insecure car reduce sales? And don’t insurance companies try to avoid paying out money? And isn’t car insurance mandatory anyway?”

She has a substack post about it, and it’s, uh, special. As in Ed. (archive)

>For me, I understand a victim to be someone whose life is irrevocably impacted, negatively, by forces they cannot control.

>You’re not a victim if things can be made well through consumption.

If someone spills my drink in a bar, I'm still a victim even if they or I buy me a new drink. It doesn't un-spill the drink.

Even if I get a new car, that’s a lot of trouble to go through.

>You’re a victim if you’ve experienced something that means that you’ll never again be the person you were before.

Because no one's ever been permanently traumatized by someone using force to take their stuff. Even leaving aside the times where the thief assaulted and seriously injured the car owner.

>My immediate, half-serious reaction, that jailing people for a victimless crime is ridiculous, caught a lot of heat.

Ah, yes, the classic "I wasn't serious (except when I was)" dodge.

>Thousands of men told me how much they love their cars, how their cars hold them at night and make love to them. My emails and direct messages filled up with lots of “if you steal my car I will kill you”s and “where do you live so I can steal your cars”es. The people were mad that I could assert such a thing.

Along with the classic "let's make this a gender issue, for some reason" and "talking about the harassment so I look more like a victim while ignoring the actual criticism".

>It’s the formulation that this object is so premordial that anything that may befall a car, whether a jacking or an overpacked highway, is a personal attack on the car’s owner. It’s silly.

And naturally, a red just starts making up entirely new arguments for and assumptions about the critics from thin air instead of addressing the actual criticism.

A carjacking is a violent theft of an occupied car.

Which means the operator must a) be removed, by force and/or threat of force, or b) become a hostage of the 'jacker. Sometimes both.

It's amazing that this intellectual titan can even type while she's staring so hard at her navel. Or...another body part. From the inside.

[meespresso14]

Unexpected (Part 2)

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: mentions of sex, pregnancy, nausea, vomiting, medical issues.

Once things settled down and the hostages were rescued safely with only minor injuries and mental anguish, Hondo decided it was time to pull Luca. The team could finish up without him, it would be alright. Luca was working with Tan and Street. Hondo sighed, getting himself together. The adrenaline was still rushing through all of their veins. He walked over to the group.

“Luca, can we talk for a minute?”

The color drained from Luca’s face, his classic smile fading from his lips. Hondo noticed him swallow hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Yeah, boss. What’s up?”

Deep down inside, every bad scenario was running through Luca’s head. Was it you? Was it his parents? 

Hondo’s eyes panned over to Tan and Street before they panned back to Luca. Everyone was wearing a worried look. 

“It’s Y/N. Annie was on her way to the hospital with her. She passed out at home. I was waiting until things calmed down to pull you out as soon as I could.”

Luca’s blue eyes instantly filled with concern before he shook his head, attempting to pass by Hondo. “I gotta get out of here, man. Like now.”

“Listen, listen—I know, Luca.”, Hondo grabbed his shoulders, trying to center him. 

Luca was fighting back tears—he couldn’t show his emotions. That’s not how this worked. He was taught to be tough—even as a child. 

“Just be safe about it, man. She needs you.”, Hondo eyed Luca.

Luca couldn’t meet Hondo’s eyes. He only stared past him, however, Hondo could see the tears pooling in Luca’s deep blue eyes. He hated breaking bad news to his teammates. It seemed like only yesterday when Annie had her stroke and he had to tell Deacon. It was the worst part of being the team leader. 

“I know.”, Luca breathed, voice barely above a whisper.

He rubbed his hand over his face. “What happened to her?”

Hondo shook his head. “Captain Cortez didn’t give me any other details.”

“I gotta get down there. I need to see her.”

“I know. One of us can go with you—if you want.”, Hondo added.

Luca nodded. “Okay.”

Hondo nodded, finally feeling better about Luca leaving. It was decided that Deacon would accompany Luca since Annie was at the hospital anyway. Hondo told them both to be careful and to keep the team updated on your condition. Luca didn’t even take time to change out of all his tactical gear. He just cared about seeing you—making sure you were okay. Deacon noticed him shifting in the seat nervously. 

Luca felt like a cat on a hot tin roof. His face scrunched nervously and Deacon could tell he was spiraling. 

“You okay, man?”

Luca looked over at Deacon. “Honestly…..no.”, he sighed.

Deacon nodded. “It’s okay not to be okay. I was beside myself when Annie was sick.”

Luca nodded. “I’m just thinking of everything that could be wrong with her.”

“It could be something minor.”

Luca scoffed. “Knowing my luck—no way. I mean she’s the best thing to ever happen to me, Deac. She understands me.”

Deacon kept driving, determined to get Luca there as fast as he could. “I know.”

Deacon didn’t check his phone after texting Annie that he was on his way with Luca. Traffic was horrible as per usual in LA. Deacon was a good driver, used to dealing with the congested highway. 

“I could have driven.”, Luca grumbled, crossing his arms and shifting in the seat for the thousandth time. 

“Sorry boss’s orders.”, Deacon shrugged playfully, a soft smirk crossing his lips.

Luca slumped over against the door, his anxiety getting the best of him. He thought he would handle stress better than this. And to be honest, he was a little angry at himself for getting so worked up. But this wasn’t just anything—this was you, the love of his life. He had never felt this way about another woman. He was going to marry you. And soon, especially after this. If everything was alright with you. His mind was racing with possibilities, going through any and every scenario.

Deacon knew what he was doing. He had done the exact thing when Annie was sick. He knew Luca felt guilty about leaving you and going to work. Deacon weaved in and out of traffic in an attempt to get to the hospital faster. Luca huffed and puffed, silently cursing the traffic and hitting the dashboard of his truck. 

After what felt like a hundred years, they finally pulled up to the emergency room entrance. Luca hardly gave Deacon time to shift his truck into the park before he was jumping out. Deacon threw his hands up, making sure he was parked at least halfway decent before jumping out of Luca’s truck with the keys and running to catch up to Luca. 

Luca cleared the automatic doors, instantly going to the registration desk. 

“Can I help you sir?”

“My fiancee is here.”, Luca threw his hands down on the desk, tapping them nervously. 

“Your name?”

“Dominique Luca. I should be on her paperwork.” 

“What’s her name?”

Luca gave them your name. He wished in that moment you shared his. He wished he could call himself your husband. 

“She’s in room three. I’ll take you both back there.”

Luca nodded as he looked back at Deacon. 

“Want me to follow?”

“Yeah, man. It’s fine.”

Deacon nodded, imagining that Luca needed the emotional support. The registrar opened the door and met Luca on the other side before the door to the main emergency room opened. Nurses were running around like crazy, the desk right in the middle of the room. The registrar talked quickly to a nurse and she nodded, looking at him. Luca forgot he had left his SWAT stuff on. 

“Officer Luca?”, the nurse asked, holding her clipboard.

Luca nodded. 

“Your fiancée is in room three. The doctor will be in shortly to give you an update.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“No problem, follow me.”, she smiled softly and part of Luca wondered why she was smiling when his entire world felt like it was falling apart. 

Part of him felt angry but he decided to hold it together. Deacon was behind him as they snaked their way through the emergency department to room three. The nurse grabbed the blue curtain, pulling it back.

“I have a visitor.”, she sing-songed.

Luca held his breath. Were you awake? All these questions were running through his head and he was finally going to get his answers. There were a lot of sounds in the emergency room from young children crying, people moaning in pain, and all the alarms going off constantly. But it was like everything went silent as he waited for the nurse to move back to reveal you. His mouth pursed open, trying to find the right words to say. 

You were lying there with your eyes open, a small smile on your face. “Hey babe.”

Annie was beside you at the head of your bed, holding your hand. Annie was a great friend and you were very thankful for your SWAT family. Annie smiled, realizing Luca and Deacon had arrived. She let go of your hand and moved to give Luca room but he wasn’t waiting. He rushed over to you, tears forming in his ocean-blue eyes.

“Hey, baby. Are you feeling okay?”, he immediately asked, taking you in his arms. 

Your heart monitor was beeping in the background but neither of you was paying attention to anything but one another. He kissed your head, brushing through your hair before you both smiled at one another. 

“I’m so sorry for leaving you this morning.”

“Stop that.”, you whispered lightly. “Don’t beat yourself up. It’s not your fault.”

“It is—I should have stayed home with you. You needed me.”

“Luca.”

“Baby, I would have never forgiven myself if something happened to you.”

“But I’m gonna be okay.” 

You smiled softly as you touched noses before sharing a small, soft kiss. Luca thought for a moment that he would never get this opportunity again. Your lips felt like heaven and he was so relieved. 

“So everything is going to be okay?”

“Well—mostly.”

“Mostly?”, Luca questioned, concern evident in his voice. 

“Sit down, babe.”, you rubbed his muscular arm gently. 

This was it. Luca felt his heart plummet into his stomach. This was the moment you were going to tell him—you were going to give him the bad news. Luca swallowed hard, his legs beginning to feel like jello. He was never this easily rattled. But this was you. It was a whole different ball game, it was okay to be vulnerable. A lesson you had taught him. Annie helped by scooting a chair closer to the edge of the bed so he could sit down beside you. If only he knew what she did. 

Luca took a seat, immediately grabbing your hand. Just as he did, the doctor pulled the curtain back, getting everyone’s attention. 

“Officer Luca?”

Luca looked up at him, and the doctor immediately extended his hand. Luca took it, shaking his hand firmly. “Glad you could join us. I’ve already talked to your fiancee’ but she wanted you present as well.”

“Sorry—my job is a little demanding.”, Luca laughed nervously. 

Luca’s blue eyes panned over to you, still managing to give you a soft smile as he squeezed your hand. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. 

“We’ll be outside.”, Deacon breathed softly, grabbing Annie’s hand and exiting the room as quietly as they both could. 

“Alright, well. First of all, her iron level and blood pressure were low upon arrival to the emergency room which aided in her passing out at home. We have already given her an iron infusion along with some fluids but are admitting her overnight for observation. She will possibly need another infusion next week depending on the results of her blood work. On to other news,”, he smiled softly.

Luca was confused while he was smiling. 

“Both of these were results of another finding.”

“And that is?”, Luca questioned bravely.

He needed answers. 

“Congratulations Officer Luca. Your fiancée is pregnant. HCG levels are perfect for an estimated four weeks pregnant.”

Luca’s eyes widened before he turned to you. Did he really just hear what he thought he heard? It was the sentence he had waited forever to hear. 

“Pregnant?”, Luca repeated. 

You smirked softly. “Pregnant.”, you whispered.

“What? Babe!”, he exclaimed, a relaxed feeling finally washing over him as his lips curved into a smile and his blue eyes softened before he immediately took you into his arms.

You giggled lightly, wrapping your arms around him. It felt nice to be in his arms and you closed your eyes, taking in this feeling. You always did—just in case there was a day he didn’t get to come home. You hated to even think about the possibility but you knew that was part of what you signed up for. You always prayed for his safety along with his teammates. He pulled back to look at you, tears in his eyes. 

“I’m really gonna be a dad?”

You nodded before both of you laughed easily. 

“Congratulations to both of you. We will let you know as soon as we get you a room upstairs.”, the doctor smiled before leaving. 

Luca turned back to look at you. “I can’t believe it—but I thought you wanted to get married first.”

You shrugged easily. “Life sometimes throws curveballs.”

Luca smiled, rubbing your cheek softly. “I never thought this moment was ever going to happen for me. I thought I was always going to be stuck as Uncle Luca.”

You both laughed before you began to speak. “You’re an amazing uncle, so I just know you’re going to be an amazing dad.”

Luca smiled brightly at the compliment. “I’m so happy.”

“Me too.”, you began. “But I’m not gonna lie I was a little anxious to tell you.”

“Me?”

You nodded again. “It’s just nerve-wracking. I mean I didn’t know if you wanted this right now.”

Luca sighed, shifting in the chair lightly. “I get it. I know you wanted to get married first. I mean—I know we weren’t being safe like we should but we weren’t exactly trying either.”

You giggled at the use of his terminology. “True.”

“Deacon and I even had this conversation this morning—and I thought there was no way in this world you were pregnant.”

“Me either, honestly.”

“But I’m thrilled. I can’t wait to be a dad—I can’t wait for you to start getting a little bump.”, Luca touched your flat stomach. 

You placed your hand over his. 

“Maybe we should move our wedding up.”, you smirked. 

“Sounds good. You tell me a date and we will make it happen, babe.”

You all shared another kiss before you began grinning widely. 

“Maybe we should let Deacon and Annie back in.”

“Yeah, maybe.”, Luca laughed. 

Luca let go of your hand just long enough to walk to the curtain and open it, telling Annie and Deacon they could come in. They followed him back inside the small curtained room. You could only hope that your and Luca’s relationship could be like Deacon and Annie’s—maybe even better. So far, he had exceeded every expectation. Deacon smirked at Luca and you were unsure if Annie had clued him in. 

“So Luca, was I right? Is there a chance we will have a fourth-generation SWAT member?”

Luca smirked back, elbowing Deacon playfully. “Maybe.”

You and Annie looked at one another, laughing while not being surprised by their horseplay. 

“Yeah, you were right Deac. I’m gonna be a dad.”

There were obvious tears pooling in his blue eyes and Deacon couldn’t help but smile as he pulled Luca in for a hug, patting his back. Annie couldn’t help but give a soft smile before her eyes panned over to you. You couldn’t help but notice the tears beginning to pool in your own eyes watching how excited Luca was. This was better than anything you could have imagined. 

“Well, guess it’s my turn to be an uncle now.”, Deacon smirked. 

"How long until we can tell the rest of the team?", Annie chimed in. 

You looked at Luca and he looked back at you, softly caressing his thumb over your hand. 

"What do you think, babe?"

You giggled softly before noticing Hondo, Chris, Jim, and Tan walking through the emergency room through the small slit in the curtain. "I'm thinking soon."

[garbinge]

Shot To The Heart

Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader (turned SWAT/TEMS) 30 Day Fic Challenge (13/30)

Word Count: 1.3k A/N: Just something small for this wife reader/Tim universe I occasionally write for. Looking forward to season 7, and hopefully a Chenford reunion lol.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of violence, gunshot wounds, ptsd, wat flashbacks, hospitalization, light angst. The Rookie Taglist: @simrah1012 @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @afuckingshituniverse Other fics with this reader: Clean Cut - Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader Earthquakes and Promotions - Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader

“Hey I was just about to call you, I’m wrapping up my shift but the team is heading to get drinks, figured you could meet us there? We’re going to that spot that has those mojitos you like.” Tim had a smile on his face as he answered your phone call. He was walking through the station towards the men’s locker room, ready to change out of the stench of a long patrol day.

“Before you freak out, I want you to know I’m okay.” Your voice was completely opposite of his. It wasn’t shaky for what happened, but you were solemn and still in your delivery. It was honestly silly to start your conversation this way, Tim wasn’t one to freak out, but he was one to think the worst first. 

“What happened?” His voice immediately matched yours. Very typical for people that held the positions you did, to be calm under crisis. 

“I got shot on shift today. I’m at the hospital.” 

“You what?” Tim had stopped in his tracks immediately waiting for more information. 

“My thigh, it’s not a big deal. It missed my artery but protocol is for me to be here for the next couple days.” You didn’t exactly want to get into details but you knew you had to give him some information. 

“Why am I just finding this out?” Tim was now rushing to the exit doors. 

“I told them not to call you, I wanted you to hear it from me, not some random SWAT member.” 

“You do realize they’re not random, they come to all our barbecues, we’ve been to their weddings…” Tim was starting to argue with you. “Not to mention, I should’ve heard it on the radio.” 

“Really wanna argue with me right now, Bradford?” You sighed despite the smile on your face. 

“I really wanna know what happened.” 

You could hear his truck engine start in the background and from that you knew he was going to be at the hospital in minutes. 

“We got called in on some cartel tip, it was off-channel, stealth.” You explained knowing he wasn’t going to let it go. “I was applying aid to a hostage and it just happened.” 

“I really hope you didn’t write your report that way.” Annoyance was dripping off his tone. 

“Tim.” You said with the same amount of annoyance. 

“No, you don’t get to be mad at me for being mad.” He was on the highway now, you could hear the change in background noise. “I’ll be there in 5 minutes.” 

With that he hung up, and was in front of you within minutes. It made you wonder where he left his truck and who he talked to before getting to your room. 

“Jesus.” He was at the edge of the bed looking down at you. “How you holdin’ up?” 

“I’m fine, I just wanna go home.” You brushed him off. 

“What the hell happened out there?” His voice didn’t sound angry like it did on the phone, he was genuinely upset. 

“I told you, it happened fast, I was applying aid and then the next we were under fire.” You shook your head, not able to look him in the eye. 

At that motion he walked over to the side of the bed, quickly engulfing you in a hug. “I know when you’re lying to me.” He mumbled into the top of your head before placing a kiss there. 

You leaned into him, despite all his gear from his belt making it rather unpleasant to be in his embrace, it was the most comfortable you’ve felt since everything happened. You leaned into him more, gripping him closer to you when you let out a little sob. 

He gently scooted you over, making sure he didn’t aggravate or even touch the leg with the bullet wound. It was just enough so that he could sit next to you in the bed and shield you from prying eyes outside. 

“It’s alright.” He hummed as he rubbed your back up and down. A nurse had entered at one point and Tim just politely smiled and asked if the two of you could have a couple minutes. 

The tears you let escape you were some that you hadn’t shed in years. It was buried down deep, being in your field, being at war, it did that to you, it bottled everything up and left you to deal with it at another time, and each time being more inconvenient than the last left for it to overflow now. 

As you calmed down, you took a deep breath and wiped your face before looking at Tim. 

“You went back.” Tim said not needing you to say anything in explanation about what happened. 

“It was like I was right back in Afghanistan.” You nodded. 

“Protocols are different here.” Tim tilted his head to look at you, wondering if he pushed you into this too soon. 

“Yea, they got me on probation. Seeing the shrink tomorrow where they’ll figure out when I’m cleared for active duty.” 

“You know, if you wanted to go back to work at the hospital, no one would hold it against you.” Tim offered up a solution that was more for him than it was for you. 

“I was doing fine up until now, I think all the dust from the desert we were in, my hands wrist deep into this guys abdomen, brought me back to when you were bleeding out in front of me. Getting shot brought me back to the moment, it was like the shake back to reality I needed.” You shook your head as you thought through it all. 

“Yea the shrinks gonna have a ball with you.” Tim teased you before getting serious. “You’ve always been self-aware. On top of your shit, you’ll be back on active duty in no time.” 

“You sound worried.” It was obvious to notice the hesitancy in his voice. 

“Just can’t help but feel like I pushed you to this.” Tim sighed deeply. 

“I chose this.” You began to argue with him. 

“But I planted the seed.” He argued back. 

“You give yourself too much credit.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. “Remember when the Chief’s daughter came in, and I took her on as my patient, he saw how I handled everything, when they checked out, he mentioned how I might be good in TEMS. I brushed it off, but when you brought it up again, it just was harder and harder to brush it off. It just made sense.” 

Tim looked down at you shocked that you never mentioned what his boss said to you. 

“I’m just saying, don’t give yourself the credit for this.” You shrugged and teased him. 

“I just want to make sure you’re good.” Tim got serious again after letting out a laugh from your tease. 

“I’m fine, and after I see Dr. Shrink tomorrow I’ll be even better.” 

“You’re not opposed to it, which is already how I know you’re fine.” Tim joked as he brought you closer to him as both of you relaxed in the bed. 

“That’s that machismo stigma, I love talking to people about my problems. Which, speaking of, you didn’t take the trash out this morning.” 

Tim let out a belly laugh, “I’ll be sure to take it out tonight.” 

“No you won’t. You’re staying with me, Sarge.” And with that you cuddled into him as best as you could and closed your eyes so you could get as many minutes in the the most comfortable sleep you’d get while being in the hospital. 

[loving-n0t-heyting]

Its impossible for me to actually summon up that much indignation about cops sweeping up protesters blocking the highway (or train station, or seaport, vel sim). Even when i support the protesters. Highways without ppl willing and able to try and clear them of blockades are tantamount to no highways at all, and a life without highways for supply chains would be pretty bleak. Thats the whole point of activists targeting them in the first place: to hold the economy hostage as a negotiating tactic. There are limits to whst force it will be reasonable to use, but its important there be any threat of force at all. The fact we have cops charged with clearing off interstates is a good thing

Sometimes a blockade will be a proportionate measure in the service of a righteous cause. But "clear away ppl blocking the road, unless their cause is just" is not a social technology it is actually in anyones power to implement in hoc saeculo. Perhaps there is some sense in which, faced with the good kind of protesters, each individual highway patrolman should abandon his post in the service of the categorical imperative or whatever, but obviously expecting that to happen en masse and without any serious effort to make inroads among them is just asking for a miracle, and if you ask for the sea to be miraculously parted and it isnt maybe in a way it is reasonable to be angry at god about it but its pretty stupid to get all outraged at the water

If you are trying to force a blockade of an economic chokepoint, and our porcine friends take exception, i think basically the way to think about it is that they are doing their job, and you need to stay focused on doing yours. Unfortunate that the two have to be at odds with each other like that but thats just life in a fallen world

[devouringbodies]

benson showing randy horror movies to make him squirm and as an excuse to squeeze him close and tight (too tight). randy wasn't allowed to watch horror (never had a problem with this considering his nightmares) but there's something strangely cathartic in seeing fake blood squirt on a screen instead of on his face for real in his memories. benson's favorites include final destination, bride of chucky, hellraiser(kudos here for that one) and a nightmare on elm street(heh) slashers and gore porn. randy likes found footage and sadder ghost stories (characters that haunt the narrative but really aren't there, aren't people can't do anything). but randy has a soft spot for this one silly creature feature benson suggests one night "hey you like crocodiles right?" so lake placid becomes one of his favs after that.

[i-write-sometimes-maybe]

Careful- Emily Prentiss X GN Reader!

Synopsis: You get injured in the field, and Emily just wants you safe.

Warnings: Descriptions of wounds but not really, Emily just takes care of you. Mostly fluff, basically a Drabble. No gender specified.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/n: I wrote this just so you guys have something while I finish this forsaken Lesso OneShot, I'm sorry it's taken me forever to get anything out. I'm currently working two jobs and saving up for my own place so I'm a bit busy Imao.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Emily's gun had fired a loud shot, but it wasn't loud enough to cover the sound of your seared gasp.

Her one bullet had taken out the unsub, but not before he got a bullet of his own out. Only, his bullet traveled straight into your shoulder.

Her gun was still trained on his body, now being checked for a pulse by Hotch, but her eyes were trained on you.

You were clutching your shoulder, blood now oozing through your fingers, partly hunched over trying to calm your breathing.

You were used to the pain of bullets, it was nothing new to you, but that didn't make the pain any better.

"Y/n?!" Emily shouted, gaining the attention of the team.

"I'm okay! I'm okay! Let's just secure the scene and find the hostage." You stood straight once more, trying to go further into the house.

"Y/n, you've been hit! You need medical!" Morgan came up to your side.

"It's not the worst thing I've dealt with, let's go!" Everyone on the team has been shot at least a handful of times, and everyone has been abducted at least once, you can manage a shoulder hit.

"Y/l/n, wait outside for medics. That's an order." Hotch finally added.

An annoyed groan came from you but you still did as told from your superior.

You didn't wait but maybe ten minutes before two ambulances showed up, presumably one for you and one for the hostage.

Emily desperately wanted to be at your side while the ambulance took you to the hospital, but Hotch ordered her to go with the hostage to wait with her while her family arrived.

To her dismay, Emily didn't get to leave the hospital until you had already gotten a ride back to your shared townhouse.

She sped down the highway, going as fast as the car would let her. She was a federal agent, what would the state officer do even if they could pull her over?

You'd think you were barely clinging to life with the way she sped and swerved the lanes.

Truthfully, she was just concerned. She couldn't see you at the scene before you were hauled away, and then the family had to fly in from another state to see the victim. It was safe to say she was desperate to see you.

You were unsurprised to hear a car speed into the driveway. Your townhome wasn't the biggest, so you heard the tires screeching while you were in the bathroom, trying to pull off the bandage from the back of your shoulder.

Not even 10 seconds went by from the time she pulled up in the drive to the moment she was walking through the front door.

"Y/n?!" You sighed, knowing how this conversation would go. It goes the same every time one of you gets hurt.

"In here." You shouted from sitting on the vanity.

Again, not a moment passed before she was by your side.

Emily walked through the bathroom door to see you sitting on the bathroom counter, first aid supplies and wrappers all skewed around you, topless and trying to reach around to your back. To your credit, you had gotten the bandage mostly off, just some of the medical adhesive was out of your reach.

Emily could see the stitches on your shoulder, briefly looking into the mirror and seeing your exhaustion she also caught a glimpse of another bandage.

"A through and through?" Was all Emily asked, she's seen you in this situation far more times than she'd like to admit.

You merely nodded, giving into trying to take off the bloody bandage. Normally you would've left it alone, but you guessed a stitch ripped and it caused you to bleed through the bandage.

Emily wordlessly took over, you knew she would, and carefully pulled the rest of the bandage off. She paused a bit as she heard you let out a seared gasp.

"Sorry, you're good." You caught each others eyes in the mirror.

"That was stupid, Y/n," She spoke softly.

"Emily..." You groaned, you've been here before and you just wanted a clean wound so you can go to bed.

"Y/n, you knew the profile. And you still tried to reason with the guy!" Emily was annoyed but she wasn't truly surprised, you've always tried to be the voice of reason with anyone, and you've always been the one to try to keep the bullets from flying. The irony, right?

"I know, Emily! I was stupid and reckless, I've heard it before. And I'll hear it again tomorrow from Hotch when I have to write a report, just leave it. Please." This conversation was one you could recite from memory, hearing it a few times a year.

She sighed, "I know, look I'm sorry. I care about you, okay? I just want you to be more careful."

"I know you do Em, that's how I am with you too. And we both know that we both agree to be more careful until the next case comes along." Emily said nothing as she taped the clean piece of gauze onto your shoulder.

She tapped on your uninjured shoulder and you took your silent cue to turn around for her to replace the other gauze.

"You got lucky." Her tone was laced with concern and you could tell she tried to hide the little bit of impression in her face.

She was right, you managed to talk the doctors out of giving you a sling as long as you promised to take it easy. And as you said, you promise until the next case comes. Hopefully there'll be a week before the next case...

She started to say something else but you weren't paying attention to her words. You were paying attention to the way her brows furrowed with concentration as she avoided the wound while cleaning. You were focused on how she was delicate yet precise with her movements, probably from all the experience she's got.

Emily wanted to be upset with the fact that you weren't listening to her advice, but she really couldn't. It wasn't the fact that she's a broken record, telling you things you've heard hundreds of times, but the fact that you were so almost entranced by her.

Emily couldn't help but notice the look in your eye, it's the same one she has when she looks at you. How even though you were in pain, you were still mindful of her.

But that's the thing, pain or not, Emily was still the same sensitive person you fell in love with. She was your painkiller. Always there to make you feel better, regardless of the ailment.

"Thank you, Em." You said quietly as she finished up on the front piece of gauze, collecting and tossing the trash from her work and your attempt of bandaging.

"Always. I'll always be here for you." She said in the same softness you spoke in.

"You promise?" You looked her directly in those beautiful eyes.

She hesitated a bit, knowing of her past she can't guarantee anything, especially a long life with you, "I promise."

You simply smiled and rested your head on her chest. This move of yours filling her heart with the love she's always wanted, the love she never thought she deserved.

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

Taglist: @just-your-casual-nerd @v3nusxsky @bigolgay @hxzxrdous @pebbleswritessometimes @sgelessoanddoveykissing @scream-queenlover @darkth1ngs, lmk if you wanna join my taglist!

[physalian]

Creating Tragedy Through Human Error

One of my favorite sci-fi movies is Sunshine (07). In it, a team of highly skilled scientists is sent on a mission to our dying sun to essentially nuke the core to restart nuclear fusion and keep the star alive. They are aboard the Icarus II, the second attempt by a slowly-freezing Earth to attempt this hail mary, after Icarus I was lost. When the team stumbles upon the Icarus I’s distress signal, they have to make a choice: Detour to potentially save survivors and get double the payload (a second chance if they miss or it fails), or waste more time that Earth doesn’t really have straying from their mission.

They decide to detour, reward worth the risk, and when the ship changes trajectory, part of it becomes exposed to the intense heat of the sun outside the ship’s solar shield, and catches fire, burning up their only way to refresh their oxygen. Now, they have no choice to find Icarus I both for the payload and any chance of making it home, and chaos ensues for the rest of the movie.

The whole inciting incident for this chaos isn’t detecting the Icarus I’s signal, it’s the failure on part of the flight engineer to properly account for shifting their solar shield when they change course. It’s a simple, yet catastrophic human error, and he takes it incredibly hard—if the mission fails and they all asphyxiate before the payload can deliver, he will have killed Earth’s last chance for survival. All because he did some math wrong.

—

There’s something brutally tragic about a disaster that comes not from without, but within. Sunshine would have had the exact same stakes if the solar shield had simply malfunctioned and it was fate or the power of god that had killed them. Based on the name for their ship—Icarus—one can assume that human error, human overconfidence, flew them too close to the sun.

Sometimes shit just breaks. Sometimes the tech doesn’t work. Sometimes the bullet misses in a freak gust of wind. It’s a random fender bender on the highway. Not saying these plots are wrong at all, and having a character feeling like fate and the universe are against them is a compelling enough premise on its own.

But some of my favorite tragedies are tragedies because it all could have been avoided if one character made a different choice. One of my favorite TV shows has a climax where everything they’ve been working for, everything they’ve fought for all boils down to successfully inputting a code into a thing for a Sunshine-esque world revival. They’re winning the race, gaining ground, they’re at the console, the villains have lost. Meanwhile, the lone team member back home coordinating everything chooses to ignore a phone call from their allies because he’s busy and thinks they’re far less important. The villains then take these allies captive and hold them hostage—hand over the code or the innocent bystanders die right before their eyes—and the heroes balk, the consequences of which are devastating.

Had this one character stopped, thought, and not dismissed their allies’ call for help, none of this would have happened. Sure the villains could have shown up out of nowhere with them with zero buildup and just said “we caught them offscreen, uh, doesn’t matter how” and the choice would have been as agonizing to watch, but knowing it all happened because one character couldn’t be bothered makes it so much worse.

—

Some things to consider about doing this:

Try to avoid deus and diablos ex machinas. The latter tends to receive less backlash, because shit going wrong for no reason is less story-ruining than shit going right for no reason, but you can do better

This is high above a character simply forgetting about a macguffin or forgetting important information or something conveniently breaking or failing to turn on at the last second for no reason other than to be dramatic, this is something that the audience might not see coming before it happens, but understands immediately once the damage is done.

If you’re going to make it a fault of a character, make sure it’s a fault that character already has, a choice they would realistically make, instead of randomly making them an idiot to further the plot

Up to you whether you want the characters to realize the human error in all this. In Sunshine, that was the whole point, in the tv episode, I don’t think they ever connected the dots, but we did as the audience.

Typically, these are tragedies, and the choice that was made is irreversible. The character who makes it either dies regretting everything, or has to live regretting everything, but there is no quick fix. It’s not a quick “oops let me correct that,” it’s devastating.

Hope this helps, now get writing!

[enigmalynne]

Life at the Breaking Point: Love, Duty, and a Deadly Confrontation in the ER

Title – Life at the Breaking Point: Love, Duty, and a Deadly Confrontation in the ER Pairings – Jensen x Reader, Jared x Madison Word Count – 8,526 Warnings – mentions of shootings, beatings and violence, inaccurate police scenarios, hostage situation JAcklesverse Square – “I thought I lost you forever.”

He's a SWAT team member at the Sheriff's Office, and she's a doctor at St. David's Medical Center Emergency Room. They met at Jared and Madison's wedding, becoming fast friends with a longing for more that the other knows nothing about.

Those feelings come screaming to the front of his head and heart when Jensen hears about a shooting at the hospital where Y/N works, where she's held hostage at gunpoint. Will he be able to remain professional, or is his love for this doctor going to make him do something crazy?

Y/N was sitting at her desk, typing notes from her last patient, when she heard the popping sound. She didn’t think anything of it at first since the emergency room faced the highway and cars backfired all the time, but when she heard the succession of pops a second time, she lifted her eyes toward the glass doors heading outside. 

“What was that?” one of the nurses asked as she walked by. Y/N kept her eyes on the glass doors and listened intently for the sound again. When she heard it the third time, it was louder, closer to the entrance. She knew what it was immediately. 

“Oh, God,” she muttered, eyes going wide. She swung her head toward the nurses standing nearby. “Get as many people and patients out of here as you can. Get them to the elevators and send them up at least three floors.” 

“What?” a nurse asked. 

“Now!” Y/N shouted, grabbing the phone in front of her. “Go!!” The women were startled and started running into action. With a quick punch of numbers, Y/N’s voice went over the intercom for the entire emergency room. 

“Code Red! We have a Code Red in the emergency room!” she said, looking behind her to ensure people were moving. “Code Red in Emergency!” 

Suddenly, the front doors to the emergency room were kicked open, glass breaking and metal bending. The mechanism that makes them slide open sparked and broke, causing them to stop working. Y/N ducked her head to make sure none of the glass got close to the desk area she was at.

“Someone get over here and help me!” a furious voice shouted. Y/N looked toward the entrance of the ER to see a man standing there, holding another man who looked like he had been shot. He had a gun in his hand, and Y/N instantly knew he was the one firing the shots outside. 

“You!” he growled, pointing the weapon in Y/N’s face with furiously narrowed eyes. She immediately lifted her hands in a show of surrender despite her fear. A few nurses and an orderly nearby froze when they saw the weapon. 

“You. You a doctor?” he asked. Y/N nodded. 

“Yeah, I’m a doctor,” she responded. 

“Good. You help him. If he dies, you die,” the man said. Y/N nodded again, swallowing back her terror. 

“What… what happened to him?” she asked carefully.

“What does it look like happened to him? He was shot, you dumb bitch!” the guy shouted. Y/N flinched. “Now help him, or you’ll be shot next!” 

“Can you take the gun off us long enough for us to help him? Please?” she asked timidly. The guy gave her an incredulous look, but she continued. “Just put it away until we get him into a room and get him help. You can keep it on me the entire time I’m working on him, but for now, I need you to put it away so we can focus,” she begged.

The man glared at Y/N before looking back at the man he was carrying. He looked back at the doctor before nodding his head and slipping the gun into his jacket pocket. Once it was out of sight, Y/N moved.

“I need a gurney here! Now!” she shouted, causing a flurry of action. The two nurses ran up while the orderly dashed off to find a gurney. Y/N helped the nurses assess the injured man as best they could and lifted the wounded man onto it once the gurney showed up. As it rolled away, stats started to be shouted out.

“Gunshot wound to the abdomen, no exit wound. We need to get him intubated.”

“Trauma 2 is open; make a hole, people!”

“Blood pressure is low; pulse is thready; he needs a transfusion; get me two units of O-Neg!”

“Someone get surgery on the phone, let them know we need a room now!!”

As they were running into the trauma room, the gunman followed along close by. 

“What’s his name?” someone asked. 

“Mark,” the gunman said. “His name is Mark.”

“Count of three, people… one, two, three,” Y/N said, and the group moved the victim onto the bed. The activity kicked up a notch as a third nurse jumped in to assist by putting leads on his chest and turned on the monitors nearby, causing beeping and tones to start in the room over their talking.

“Mark, can you hear me? I’m Doctor Y/N,” she said, checking out his eyes. Y/N continued to assess the injury as one nurse cut the clothing off him and another put an IV in his arm. More information is being shouted around, causing the gunman to watch in confusion. 

“Mark, if you can hear me, squeeze my fingers,” Y/N said, putting two fingers inside his left hand. When nothing happened, Y/N frowned, shaking her head. Suddenly, alarms went off around them.

“He’s flatlining!” 

“Someone get the LUCAS!” Y/N shouted. One of the nurses ran off to grab the machine while Y/N and the other nurse got the man ready. “Get that bag ready!”

“C’mon, Mark, don’t do this to us,” Y/N muttered as the three women got the machine into place. As the nurses strapped Mark’s arms into place, Y/N set the machine and once cleared, it began compressions. 

“Start breathing for him,” she snapped at one of the nurses. Every twenty compressions, a nurse squeezed the bag connected to the vent in his throat to provide air into his lungs. The gunman watched with wide, panicked eyes. Just then, the surgeon, Benny, walked into the room.

“What d’ya got?” he asked, his Creole accent thick. The gunman was startled and pulled his gun back out of his pocket, having forgotten about it while watching the work being done to his friend. Y/N noticed it and tried to hold the man’s arm down. In frustration, he yanked his arm free and whipped the gun across her face, causing gasps from the nurses in the room. 

“Whoa,” the surgeon shouted, stepping forward to stop the attack but freezing when the gun was pointed at him. Y/N was on the ground, a hand on her now bleeding head. 

“Back off,” the gunman growled. 

“Stop!” Y/N shouted roughly from the ground. “We have to get him into surgery if you want us to save his life!” The gunman glanced at her on the floor, then backed up at the people in the curtained room. 

“She’s right,” one of the nurses explained. “He was shot in the stomach, and there isn’t an exit wound. The bullet is still in his stomach somewhere, and we have to get in there, get it out, and stop the bleeding.”

“Look, man, if you want to save his life, you have to let us work,” Benny said, his hands placatingly. He’s already on the LUCAS, which means he’s already close to death. The more time we waste here, the less of a chance he has.” 

The gunman reached down and grabbed Y/N by the hair, pulling her up. Once she was on her knees in front of him, he placed the gun on her temple. The other people in the emergency room whimpered at the movement, including Y/N. The gunman looked back up at Benny expectantly.

“I will kill her if he dies,” he said. “Now, go.” Benny glanced down at Y/N’s tear-filled face before turning and giving orders to the nurses. The three pulled the gurney toward the elevator and made the move to the surgical floor. There was a momentary pause where the quiet took over, then the gunman dragged her up to her feet and shoved her ahead of him so they could walk back into the waiting area.

“You’re coming with me, Doc,” he said, keeping his weapon aimed at her head, his hand still gripping her hair. Y/N swallowed back a sob, tears still running down her face. “Get up.” 

Attention all units: shots were fired at St. David’s Medical Center Emergency Room, with an unknown number of shooters, at least four victims.

Jensen was finishing up some paperwork in his vehicle when the call came over the radio, causing him to pause and listen to the report. St. David’s Medical Center is where Y/N worked, a woman he met at Jared’s wedding a few years ago. Throwing his car into drive with lights flashing and sirens blaring, Jensen peeled out of the parking lot he was sitting in and headed toward the hospital as fast as he could. 

When Jared told him he was proposing to Madison, a schoolteacher he fell in love with after meeting her at a law enforcement appreciation day, he couldn’t have been happier for the man. Jensen had seen Jared through many failed relationships because he was a law enforcement officer, and he hated seeing his friend discouraged. As a man from a big family, Jared always imagined having a wife of his own with three or four kids running around. When Jared and Madison met, Jensen could see the instant connection. When Jared asked Jensen for help picking out a ring a year later, he couldn’t have been happier for his best friend. 

During the planning process, he, the best man, met the maid of honor, Y/N. The emergency room doctor was the complete opposite of Madison. While both girls were outgoing, friendly, and energetic, Madison was more sophisticated and genteel, whereas Y/N was a bit more wild and carefree. Jensen had no idea how they became best friends until he saw them hanging out together, and their personalities blended perfectly. 

The two spent much time together helping the bride and groom prepare for a storybook wedding, laughing and making fun of the couple. They connected instantly and even gave a joint toast at the reception. They have remained friends ever since, though if Jared had his way, they would have been a couple since the end of the wedding. 

Jensen arrived at the hospital quickly and jumped out of his SUV, eyes scanning the building. He popped open the back and unlocked the case that held his rifle. He pulled it across his chest and slid some extra magazines into the slots on his bulletproof vest before closing the hatch, locking his car, and running up to where the rest of the deputies had taken point. Once he got to a safe location, he knelt and aimed at the front of the hospital. Five minutes later, Jared Padalecki came up beside him.

“Mads called me on my way over,” Jared said quietly. Jensen glanced over at him, but Jared’s narrowed eyes never left the front doors to the emergency room. “Y/N’s working today and isn’t answering her phone.”

“Fuck,” Jensen cursed under his breath. “That means she’s in there and probably one of the hostages.”

“Yeah.”

“Ackles! Get over here!” a voice shouted from the Incident Command Center bus. Jensen popped up from where he was and ran over.

“Yessir!”

“I understand you have a solid understanding of this hospital, including how we can contact someone inside,” Lieutenant Singer said. Jensen nodded.  

“Yes, sir, I do.” 

“You’re coming with me, Doc,” he said, keeping his weapon aimed at her head, his hand still gripping her hair. Y/N swallowed back a sob, tears still running down her face. “Get up. The rest of you get moving. If you can walk, walk up front,” he growled. The remaining nurses, techs, and patients who could move did so quickly with their hands up in surrender. With the gun pressed to Y/N’s head, the hostages knew they had to obey the gunman’s orders.

“Look,” Y/N started, stumbling as she tried to keep up with the man dragging her by her hair. “We have sick patients in the ER right now. There are injured people just outside the doors; they need medical attention. Please, you have to let us help them, or they could die.” 

“I can’t do that,” he said quietly. The man cocked his weapon, causing Y/N to inhale sharply and the people nearby to cry out. Once they were in the waiting room in front of the ER, he ordered the hostages to line up. When they didn’t move, he shouted. “Line up against those fucking windows, now! Or someone else will get shot today!” Everyone rushed to line up against the windows, sobbing echoing through the now-empty waiting room. 

The gunman glanced out the front doors, catching sight of the flashing lights, and cursed under his breath. Looking around, he ordered two of the hostages to stand in front of the shattered doors. They scampered to do his bidding, glancing at Y/N as they went by. The gunman continued to drag her with him, his fist tightening in her hair. Y/N whimpered, wincing at the pain in her scalp.

“Why don’t you tell me your name, huh?” she said suddenly, trying to get him talking. 

“I’m not telling you my fucking name!” he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. Y/N flinched, her hands starting to shake as she held onto his hand in her hair. The gunman aimed his gun toward the ceiling and fired a round, the sound echoing around the emergency room, causing people to scream. 

“Any more dumbass questions, and the next one will be in your head, understand?” the gunman growled. Y/N nodded as well as she could with his grip on her. Suddenly, a phone on the main desk rang. The gunman growled as he shifted his gun to one of the nurses standing by the windows.

“YOU! What’s your name?” he asked a young brunette in bright pink scrubs who was crying. She whimpered loudly before swallowing hard. 

“Ma… ma… Maggie,” she stuttered. 

“Well, ma, ma, Maggie…” he said, mocking the girl. “Answer the fucking phone and get rid of whoever it is.” Maggie nodded, rushed over to the desk, lifted the receiver, and placed it to her ear. 

“He… hello?”

“This is Lieutenant Singer of the Travis County Sheriff’s Office. Is everyone okay?” 

“Yes, sir.”

“How many hostages are in there with you?” 

“Um, well…” 

“Hang up the fucking phone!” the gunman shouted, causing Maggie to flinch and whimper. 

“See if you can get him on the phone,” Singer said calmly. Maggie looked over at the gunman and held the phone out to him. 

“It’s the police. He says he wants to talk to you,” she said, her voice slightly whimpering. The gunman dragged Y/N with him as he stalked over to where the nurse sat, snatching the phone out of her hand. 

“No one here wants to talk to you, asshat!” he shouted into the phone. The gunman then yanked the phone and threw it against the wall. 

When they heard a gunshot inside the hospital, tensions grew in the parking lot where police were set up. Singer tried to reach them on the phone to ensure everyone was okay, but it ended in a dial tone. Roman was using his binoculars to investigate the emergency room through the glass doors in front of the building.

“Roman, what can you see?” Singer asked. 

“Looks like most of the hostages are in the lobby, lined up in front of the windows. He’s got one by the hair,” Roman responded. “He’s trying to make it hard for anyone to get a shot off through the glass.” Singer cursed under his breath, realizing sniper work was not an option. 

“He knows what he’s doing,” he muttered. Jensen stood nearby, his AR-15 aimed at the hospital. He kept his green eyes locked on the front of the hospital, watching for movement. 

“We got intel,” a voice said over the radio. “Shooter is Andrew Clarkson, age 32. Has a long rap sheet, mostly petty theft and small crimes, but recently, he’s been picked up on a few drug charges. Don’t know why he’s decided to hold the ER hostage, but this would be his first major crime with a firearm.” Jensen shook his head, glancing at Singer. As he was about to open his mouth and say something, a man started to walk into view.

“Suspect is coming to the door; he has a hostage with him,” a voice echoed across the radio. Everyone lifted their weapons and aimed as all eyes faced the entrance to the emergency room, including Jensen. The gunman shoved the broken glass door aside with his foot, dragging someone with him. The gun pressed to her head gave everyone pause. He yanked the hostage forward and hid behind a brunette dressed in blue scrubs; his hand fisted into her hair as he shoved her in front of him. Her hands gripped his, her pale skin tear-stained and bruising as she tried to control her breathing. 

When Jensen realized who the hostage was, fury burned viciously in his veins. 

“That son of a bitch,” Jensen growled.

“Get back!” the gunman shouted, pressing the gun into Y/N’s temple. “Get back, all of you!” 

“Let her go, Andrew,” Singer said into the mouthpiece of a megaphone. The gunman, Andrew, grew angrier, yanking at Y/N’s hair. The cry that came from her was like ice down Jensen’s spine. Jared glanced at him from the corner of his eye, ensuring the man didn’t do anything stupid. 

“All of you just stay out of the way, and no one will get hurt,” Andrew shouted. Then he smirked. “Well, any more hurt than they already are.” 

“What is it that you want?” Singer asked. “Maybe we can help in some way.” 

“What I want is my brother to survive, and if this here bitch doctor and that surgeon friend of hers upstairs do the job right, he will,” Andrew spit out. “That ain’t none of y’all business, so go about your way and let me handle this.” 

“You know we can’t do that, Andrew. You’ve shot four people already. You have an emergency room full of doctors and patients in there being held hostage,” Singer shouted, shaking his head. Jensen was starting to get twitchy, Jared noticed. 

“Hey, take a breath,” Jared muttered quietly. “You aren’t going to help her going in halfcocked.” Jensen shot him a furious glance. “I want her outta there too, but we must use our heads here.” Jensen took a deep breath and adjusted his grip on his rifle. He studied the man who was holding Y/N hostage, her cries of pain infuriating him as he watched Andrew drag her back into the emergency room.  Once they were out of sight, Jensen and Jared lowered their weapons, but not without sounds of frustration. 

“There’s gotta be some way for us to get in there without being detected,” Jared said, looking up at the building. Jensen shakes his head. 

“They already have guys working on going in from the roof,” he said with frustration. He turned and looked at the sign in front of him pointing the way to the back of the building. Noticing the directionals, he had a sudden thought. 

“I have an idea,” Jensen said, looking at Singer. “Emergency rooms typically have a back entrance when they must take people from an ambulance. It’s different from where the public comes in, so they don’t get traumatized. I’m betting our perp doesn’t have that back entrance covered.” 

Jared catches on to what Jensen is saying, snaps his fingers, and points. 

“Right! Some of us could go back and sneak in that way while you have the rest of SWAT coming down from the roof,” Jared said. Jensen nodded.

“Make it obvious we are coming in from the rooftop; get him distracted so he isn’t aware of us coming in from the back. We sneak in, take him by surprise, pin him down, and it’s all over,” Jensen explains. Singer looks at Jensen with narrowed eyes, then nods slowly. 

“Alright, let’s do it. Pick three more to go with you. The rest will go up,” Singer said. Jensen turned to Jared, bumping fists. 

“You in?” Jensen asked.

“Always.”

“Awesome. Go get Seb and Jake; meet back here in five.” 

Jared turned and jogged off to pull the two men away and get them ready to go around the back. Jensen looked back over to the front of the hospital and took a deep breath. Hang on Y/N, we’re coming.

Andrew and Y/N made their way back into the emergency room, the sound of muffled sobs echoing around the room. Andrew shoved Y/N away from him, causing her to stumble and fall. She landed hard on her knee before collapsing against one of the sets of chairs put together. The chairs were loud as they scratched along the floor, moving as Y/N slammed into them. 

She moaned quietly, her hand going to her head to rub her scalp as she looked over to where Andrew was now pacing the floor in agitation. Y/N wasn’t sure what would happen next, but she knew things were about to get nasty.

Jensen and his team slowly made their way around the back of the emergency room, running in time with each other, their weapons held at the ready. The helicopter carrying the rest of the SWAT team was flying above them at the same time, making it evident that the sheriff’s office was about to drop deputies onto the roof to make their way down. Jenson glanced up at them once as he made his way around.

Once the back doors came into view, they slowed down to walk so they could see around the corner without drawing attention to themselves. Jensen signaled for the men to pause while he made his way over to the doors and glanced in. It was quiet; the only noise came from machines tracking heart rates and other vital information from patients left behind.

“Just as I thought, no one is back here,” he muttered quietly. “Okay, Seb and Jake take the far end. Jay, you stick with me.” The men nodded their heads in agreement before moving toward the automatic doors. As they quietly swooshed open, the team silently moved forward. Each man made their way through the curtained area of the emergency room, checking on the patients who were still in beds with machines hooked up to them. A few of the patients who were not unconscious saw them moving and were startled by the sudden appearance of a law enforcement officer. The deputies made movements for them to keep quiet.

“Stay here, and don’t move no matter what you hear. We’ll come back and get you out,” Jared whispered to a young couple who sat terrified next to their elderly mother. They nodded frantically, fear radiating off them. Jared then got on his radio, messaging the deputies out front that there were innocent people in the emergency room beds, forgotten and left behind by the gunman. Once the front lobby appeared, Jensen held up a hand to stop them. 

From where he stood, he could see Andrew pacing in front of the desk where a nurse was sitting. The hostages were still lined up against the windows. He didn’t see Y/N anywhere but knew she had to be there somewhere. 

“Will someone answer that fucking phone already?” Andrew shouted. The nurse at the desk suddenly shot up from her seat and ran over to a different desk to grab the ringing phone. She spoke into the receiver momentarily, then held it to her chest. 

“It’s surgery. They want to talk to Doctor Y/L/N,” she said. Andrew spun around, stalked over to some of the chairs in the waiting area, and bent down. It wasn’t until he stood up that Jensen realized it was Y/N. She must have been on the ground. Andrew dragged her to stand by her arm and shoved her over toward the phone. 

“Answer the phone. Find out about Mark,” Andrew growled. Y/N stumbled toward the desk and took the phone from the nurse. She kept her back to the gunman; from her expression, Jensen saw that whatever news she was getting wasn’t good. Jensen glanced at Seb and Abel, giving them hand signals to move forward slightly but low to the ground. His gut was telling him this was about to get ugly. 

Y/N hung up the phone slowly and turned to face Andrew, the gunman. Her eyes were filled with tears and sorrow for the man standing before her. His gun was being held on her, and she knew when she told him the update she was most likely going to get shot herself. 

“Well? What did they say?” Andrew asked angrily. 

“Andrew, you have to understand; Mark was already in a bad place when you first brought him in…” Y/N started.

“What are you saying? Are you telling me that my brother is dead??” Andrew asked incredulously, causing Y/N to whimper and startle. Tears slowly started to make their way down her cheeks as she swallowed thickly. 

“He had already lost a lot of blood before you got here… and then there was an infection that started where the bullet wound went in. Moving him around with the bullet inside him did a lot of damage, too,” Y/N explained, her voice choked with tears. “We sent him up on the CPR machine, remember?”

As Y/N was explaining what happened, Andrew’s arm with the gun was drooping slightly. She thought maybe she was getting him to understand, and he would not shoot her, so she continued explaining.

“Benny did all he could to bring him back, but it was just too much for his body to handle. He died twenty minutes ago. I’m so sorry, Andrew,” Y/N said.

The next moments happened very quickly, causing panic and confusion. Andrew looked back at Y/N, lifted the gun, and fired at her. Y/N flinched, which moved her to the right, which caused the bullet to just graze the skin of her temple instead of embedding itself into her skull. The strike still caused her to fly backward and hit her head on the desk behind her, then crumpled to the ground. 

All four deputies who were in the emergency room saw what was about to happen and opened fire on Andrew, hitting him in the chest and taking him down. This caused chaos among the other hostages in the waiting room area. Jensen moved up to kick the gun away from the dying suspect as his fellow deputies moved forward with him as backup. 

“Jake, stay with this guy. Seb, see if any of those nurses are stable enough to help him. Jay, take the rest of the hostages to the back. I’m going to check on Y/N,” Jensen ordered his team before moving. He didn’t stop to hear them answer. Instead, he leaped over a counter and moved to where Y/N was crumpled on the floor. Just as he reached her and started to roll her over, Jensen was quickly pushed out of the way.

“I got her, Jen,” a doctor named Chris said, pushing him aside. He then rattled orders to three other people next to him, lifting her onto a gurney that appeared out of nowhere. “I need a CT scan on her head; I wanna find out if that bastard did any permanent damage!” he heard as they ran down a hallway and into an elevator.

Jensen stood and watched as they rushed her off and away from him, startling slightly as Lieutenant Singer set his hand heavily on his shoulder. Once she was out of sight, he turned and looked at Singer, then nodded before walking to rejoin his team. An investigation would be conducted on the shooting of a suspect. They would need his weapon to interview him, and he would be put on administrative leave until everything was completed. Until then, however, they had a hospital full of people and a petrified emergency room. 

Y/N sat on her couch dressed in a pair of old pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt wrapped in an old, soft blanket as she stared into nothingness, thinking about what had happened that day. 

Her hair was damp from the long hot shower she had taken earlier, during which she drained the hot water tank and stood under the spray. She was pretty sure Madison, who rushed over to the hospital once she was able to get in, was sitting outside the door the entire time. Once she left the bathroom, Madison took one look at her red eyes and held her for a long time before gently braiding her hair back. 

Y/N had two butterfly bandages holding the small cut on her temple closed, the bruising darkening as each hour passed. The bump on the back of her head was sore but not visible, thankfully. She didn’t have a concussion, but she would have a headache for a while. Thankfully, the CT scan showed no permanent damage to her head or her brain. She’d just be bruised up and sore for a while.

She had a hard time grasping that she went in for a typical 24-hour shift at the hospital only for her day to end in the middle of a hostage situation slash shoot-out that should have killed her. A bullet was aimed directly at her head. A shudder of fear ran through her for the hundredth time that evening, causing her to close her eyes, take a deep breath, and attempt to calm her nerves. Tears once pressed against her eyelids, and she struggled to hold them back. She wasn’t ready to fall apart yet.

Madison had lit one of her favorite candles after hustling her into the shower, so the room smelled of apples and cinnamon, but it wasn’t giving her the comfort it usually did. Her relaxation playlist on the Alexa speaker wasn’t either, despite it being her usual after-shift routine. Something was missing, and she couldn’t put her finger on it yet. 

“Here,” Madison said as she sat beside her on the couch. Y/N’s eyes dropped to the mug of coffee in her hand. “I know you’re not allowed any alcohol with the painkillers you’re on, so I figured coffee was the next best thing.” With a small smile, Y/N unwound her arm from around herself with the blanket and carefully took the mug with a shaky hand. 

“Thanks, Mads,” she whispered. She held the mug and sipped the coffee between her hands, enjoying the sweetened warmth filling her. “You used my salted caramel creamer.” 

“This was a good reason to splurge, I figured,” Madison said with a shrug. “You should try to eat something. I can order pizza?”  Y/N shook her head slowly.

“I feel like if I eat something, I’m going to throw it up,” she said quietly. A knock at the door startled her, causing her to wince after. Madison glanced at the door, then back at her friend. 

“I’ll get it. You stay here,” she said, standing. Y/N nodded, then sipped from her coffee once again. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth, listening carefully to Madison making her way to the front door. 

After taking Andrew down and getting Y/N help, it took Jensen and the rest of the SWAT team longer than expected to clear the hospital. Then, he had to go back to the office and hand over his weapon until the investigation into the shooting was completed. It was a long, tedious process that included an interview with internal affairs and a meeting with the chaplain. When he was finally done for the day, he decided to shower in the locker room so he could just head straight over to her place. 

He was grateful that Madison showed up at the hospital to care for Y/N while he was still working. Given her injuries, there was no way she was going to be able to drive home, and she really shouldn’t have been left alone after what happened. The few times he texted Madison to check on Y/N, her responses weren’t encouraging, which only solidified his decision to go over and check on her in person.

He wasn’t surprised she was struggling. While Y/N was trained to handle a crisis, being held at gunpoint wasn’t exactly in the job description of an emergency room doctor. That was more his world, one he never wanted to introduce her into. Once Jensen was cleaned up, he left the sheriff’s office, stopped at his favorite Chinese food place to grab some takeout, and headed to Y/N’s place. 

When Madison answered the door, Jensen frowned slightly. He expected Y/N to answer. 

“Hey, Jen,” she said, smiling sympathetically at him. She stepped aside to let him in the condo. Jensen looked down the hallway before turning back to the woman with concern on his face. 

“How is she?” he asked quietly. Madison locked the door and turned to face him with a shrug. 

“I think she’s still in shock right now. She was crying a little earlier, but she keeps stopping herself from doing it now. I think she’s going to break down when it all hits her,” Madison said. “She’s been quiet, which isn’t like her. I’m really worried.” 

“Yeah, me too,” Jensen said with a sigh. “Thanks for sitting with her until I could get here.” 

“Hey, don’t thank me. I would have been here regardless,” Madison waved off his thanks.

“Why don’t you head out of here? Jared should be home by now, and we’re on administrative leave until the investigation into the shooting is done. I know he’d love to see you right now,” Jensen said, giving the woman a tight hug. 

“Are you sure?” Madison asked, returning the hug. 

“I’m sure. I’m not planning on going anywhere; I got her,” Jensen nodded. 

“You’ll call me if you need anything?” Madison asked, pointing at him. Jensen smiled gently. 

“Yeah. I’ll call if we need you,” he agreed. Madison nodded as she led the two into the living room where Y/N was sitting. 

“Hey, Y/N, Jensen’s here,” she said with a smile. Y/N was resting, the coffee cup forgotten as it sat on her table; her head was in her hand, her arm leaning on the arm of the couch, and her eyes closed as her breaths remained steady. Her fingers pressed into her hair, rubbing slowly against her scalp in a light massage. Madison stepped closer to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. Y/N startled slightly, lifting her head to face the two. 

“You okay?” she asked, and Y/N smiled slightly, humming. Jensen studied the woman, frowning slightly. He’d never seen her look so defeated before. Even earlier, with a gun pressed to her head, she looked confident and strong. Right then, she looked... broken. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Jensen said quietly. Blue eyes looked up at him, and after a moment of stillness, a small smile made it across her tired face. 

“Jensen, hey,” she said softly, causing him to smile gently at her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were here.” 

“It’s okay. I brought dinner. You okay with Chinese?” he asked, holding up the bag of Chinese. Y/N’s eyes dropped down to the bag of food he had in his hand, and it didn’t smell all that appetizing.

“I’m not that hungry,” she said, looking back at him. Jensen smiled softly at her, setting the bag down. 

“I’ll make a deal with you. You have some soup and maybe a little lo mein, and I won’t bug you about it the rest of the night. Doesn’t have to be a lot, but it has to be something,” he said, kneeling in front of her. Y/N frowned, looking back at the bag of food with a sigh. 

“Soup counts?” she asked, returning her eyes to Jensen. He nodded. 

“Soup counts,” he repeated. 

“Okay,” she whispered, nodding slightly. Clearing her throat, she tried to speak louder. “Yeah, okay. I’ll get some plates.” She unfolded herself and stood, making her way toward the kitchen. Madison stepped aside to let Y/N by, using Jensen’s shoulder for balance as she made her way. Jensen stood once she was passed. The two friends then watched her walk away before Madison threw Jensen a look. 

“I know. I promise I got it,” Jensen said, raising a hand before Madison could say anything. “Jared is waiting for you at home. Go.” Madison nodded and walked into the kitchen behind Y/N. 

Jensen started pulling the food out of the bag and setting the boxes on the coffee table. When Y/N returned from the kitchen carrying the dishes and flatware, Jensen stood and took the items from her. 

“What would you like to drink?” Y/N asked quietly. “I have some beer and soda. There’s still some coffee left that Madison made.” Jensen smiled softly at her and gently guided her to sit. 

“I know where everything is. Why don’t you get comfortable, and I’ll grab us some sodas?” he said. She thanked him and sat back on the couch, pulling one of her blankets around herself. Jensen walked into the kitchen and pulled two sodas out of the fridge. He carried them back to the living room, setting them on the table while watching Y/N as she stared out the window. Jensen sat down next to her and reached an arm behind her. 

“Hey,” he muttered quietly to get her attention. Y/N turned and looked at him, blinking away the distant look in her eyes. “Tell me what you need.” 

“I’m fine,” she said, dropping her eyes and sighing. “I’m just…” she started. She trailed off and shook her head. 

“Just what?” Jensen asked. Instead of answering him with words, she simply shifted her body to face him and ducked her head so she could lay it on his shoulder. Jensen pulled her closer to him, moving her legs so they laid over his and he could cradle her against his chest. This allowed him to start running his hand up and down her back. After a bit of silence, her hushed voice caught his attention.

“I keep thinking about what we could have done differently,” she muttered quietly. Jensen frowned. “I knew there was nothing we were going to be able to do to save his brother just by examining him. He waited too long to get him to us. I was able to get him to put the gun away long enough for us to try, but when we had to pull the LUCAS out… Surgery was a long shot, but we needed to try?” 

“Yeah,” Jensen muttered under his breath, his voice rough. 

“But then we were waiting, and things just got…” she trailed off again, shaking her head. “Nothing I was saying to him was making a difference. I knew it was only a matter of time before his patience wore out and he was going to start killing people. Then, when we got word that his brother died… I just knew.”

“You knew what?” he asked softly. 

“That he was going to kill me,” she replied. Jensen’s arms tightened around her.

“What you did in that hospital, keeping your head… talking to him like you did… that was exactly right. It was the right thing to do,” Jensen explained. Y/N shook her head, her eyes downcast.

“You did everything right, sweetheart,” Jensen reiterated.

“Then why did he still try to kill me?” Y/N asked after a moment of silence. Jensen sighed heavily, his heart hurting badly for this woman in his arms. 

“Because sometimes, even though you did the right thing, the bad guys don’t care and still react violently. Sometimes they just want to hurt others like they were hurt,” he said quietly. Y/N’s eyes started to fill with tears once again, against her will. 

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, tears breaking free and running down her cheeks. 

“I know you didn’t,” he reassured. 

“Those people he killed didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know.”

“I was trying to help him; I wanted to save his brother.” 

“I know you did.” 

“I tried to save him; we all tried to save him…” 

“I know,” Jensen said, hushing her as she began to cry earnestly. “You did everything you could, and it’s not your fault. Andrew should have realized that. You’re safe now, and he can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let anything hurt you anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she sobbed. 

“It’s okay, don’t apologize. I’d be worried if you weren’t upset,” Jensen said, pressing his lips to her temple. He held her close as she cried herself out. When finished, she lifted her head and wiped her eyes, glancing at the man who held her close.

“Better?” Jensen asked, wiping the tears from Y/N’s face with the thumb of one hand. Y/N nodded a little, sniffling a bit. “Let’s eat.” 

“I’m not that hungry,” she admitted. 

“Hey, you agreed to try. It doesn’t have to be a lot, but you need to put something in your stomach,” Jensen said, cradling her head. She lifted her sad blue eyes to meet his tender green ones. 

“Okay,” she muttered. 

“Okay,” Jensen repeated, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He then reached over to the food and grabbed two of the Styrofoam containers with soup in them. He carefully opened the lid of one of them and handed it to her. She smiled gently and sipped the soup. 

“Let’s find something we can watch on TV, okay?” 

Jensen didn’t want to leave Y/N alone; she wanted to stay in case she needed someone or something. She argued, saying she’d be okay, but he knew better. As they watched television, Y/N fell into a doze on Jensen’s shoulder while clinging to the blanket around her shoulders.

“Do you want to watch another episode?” Jensen asked, looking over at her. “Y/N?” That’s when he noticed her closed eyes. A gentle smile fell across his face as he watched her sleep. Moving carefully, he lifted her into his arms. The blanket wrapped around her fell away as he carried her across the living room, down the hallway, and into her bedroom. Thankfully, her bed was rumpled from a nap she had taken earlier, so he could lay her down and cover her with the sheet and comforter she had there. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“Good night, beautiful,” he said quietly before leaving the room. 

With an arm behind his head, Jensen was dozing on the couch as he rested on a few of Y/N’s throw pillows. Y/N’s scream had him leaping and running to her bedroom. He opened the door he had closed earlier to find her sitting in bed with one hand pressed to the side of her head. She seemed to be trying to get away from something or someone, Jensen thought as he watched her sob. He frowned as he walked into the room and calmly hushed her.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Hey, hey, hey, shhhh…. It’s okay. You’re safe,” he muttered.

“He’s gonna kill me,” she bawled, shaking her head and then whimpering. He was sure she was in pain with how she was holding her head. 

“Okay, okay, come here,” Jensen said, pulling the blankets back. She launched herself into his arms once she was free of the blankets. He caught her with a soft ‘oof,’ the weight unexpected, but once he had his arms secured around her, he sat on her bed.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered, his heart aching for her. He situated himself so his back was against the headboard, and Y/N rested against him. She ended up in his lap, her legs straddling his hips while her head rested on his shoulder with her face pressed into his neck. Jensen wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, gently placing a hand on her head and massaging his fingers against her scalp. Her tears ran down his neck to his shirt, causing him to pull her closer. 

“I’ve got you,” Dean said gently. “I won’t let anything happen to you ever again.” Without moving her from against him, he reached down and grabbed her blanket and wrapped it up in it, offering warmth and comfort. Once he was happy with how they were situated, he turned his head and kissed her forehead. Having her in his arms like this, with her crying, was wrecking him.

“God, Y/N…I thought I lost you forever,” he whispered against her, her sobs quiet but intense. He knew she didn’t hear him; it wasn’t for her. His heart screamed at him, hurting at how this could have turned out. It took a long time for her to calm down, and Jensen held her and rubbed her scalp the entire time. Once her sobs subsided, the room was quiet, aside from a sniffle here and there. They remained like that for a long time.

“I thought I was going to die today,” she muttered, her voice clogged with tears and terror. Jensen tightened his arms around her, pulling her impossibly closer. He turned his head to press his lips against her temple and closed his eyes against the onslaught of emotions that raged inside of him. 

“He’s dead, right?” she asked worriedly, pulling her head away so she could look at him. Jensen looked over her face, noticing the bruising on her temple had gotten worse. The bandages and wounds on her delicate skin practically glowed in the dim light of her bedroom. He gently brushed a few strands of hair sticking to her cheek from the tears behind her ear as he nodded slightly. 

“Yeah,” he grunted, clearing his throat before speaking again. “Yeah, he’s dead. He’s not going to hurt you again.” Y/N nodded slightly, looking down. “Hey. You’re safe. I promise. I’m here and won’t let anything happen to you.” Y/N nodded her head before laying back down against his shoulder. Jensen cradled the back of her head with his hand, holding her there, resting his head on top of hers gently. 

“Thank you for saving my life,” she whispered after a long silent pause. Jensen shut his eyes against another onslaught of emotion, swallowing hard. He pulled his head back to look at her. 

“You’ll never have to thank me for that,” he said, eyes studying the woman in his arms. “When I saw him come out with you, I almost shot him right then. I never want you to be in a situation like that again.”

“You gonna become my bodyguard?” Y/N asked, a bit of humor creeping into her voice. 

“I don’t think you understand, Y/N. You’ve become the most important person in my life,” Jensen explained. Y/N lifted her head to stare at him as he spoke, her wide eyes watery. Jensen stared back at her, more severe than he had ever been with her. “I was so angry when I realized that you were in there with that maniac. I wasn’t going to stop at anything to get you out of there safely, and when you got hurt…”

“It wasn’t your fault, Jen,” Y/N whispered. Jensen shook his head, his own eyes getting misty. The following words were out before he could stop himself.

“If anything were to happen to you… I don’t know what I would have done. I’m so in love with you, Y/N. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, and that asshole almost took you away from me,” he explained, resting his forehead gently against hers. Y/N’s breath caught at his admission. 

“Jen… I love you, too. I think I have for a long time now,” she admitted. Jensen pulled back and stared into Y/N’s eyes, searching. Once he found whatever he sought, he gently pressed his mouth to hers in a passionate but modest kiss. Y/N tried to deepen it, moving her hands to his neck and fingers to his hair, but he pulled back.

“No. Not now,” he explained gently. Y/N frowned, hurt. “You’re hurting and need to take some painkillers. I know your head hurts you. And honestly, I just really want to hold you for a while. I almost lost you. I thought I lost you.” 

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” Y/N asked timidly. Jensen nodded her head.”

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” he said quietly. Y/N nodded. “Where are your pain medications?” 

“They’re right here,” she said, facing her nightstand. She picked up one of the three prescription bottles sitting there, and Jensen took it. He opened it and shook out one of the large pills into her open hand. She then reached over for the bottle of water to swallow down the pill before taking the prescription bottle and setting both back on her nightstand. 

“Let’s get some rest, beautiful,” Jensen whispered. Y/N nodded as she laid her head back down on his shoulder. After a while, the two adjusted their positions so that they were lying down instead of sitting up against the headboard. 

That was where Madison found them the following day. She smiled wistfully as she called out to Jared and waved him over to the doorway to Y/N’s bedroom. There, lying in her bed, was Jensen with Y/N curled beside him. Her head was still on his shoulder, her hand gripping the shirt he had on tightly. Jensen wrapped his arm around her waist, the other cradling her head against him, his face turned toward her as his lips pressed to her forehead. The two onlookers smiled softly at the two. 

“She must have had a bad night,” Madison whispered, leaning against Jared.

“It’s nice to see them finally together, too,” Jared muttered quietly, kissing Madison’s head. 

“Wonder how long till we are planning their wedding,” Madison gleefully whispered as she closed the bedroom door. It was quiet for a long moment, then…

“We’re gonna elope if I have anything to say about it,” Jensen whispered, smirking. 

“We’ll do it at one of those tropical resorts in the Caribbean. It’s still kind of eloping, but I still get to dress up, and we still get pictures and flowers and shit,” Y/N said under her breath as she snuggled against him. Jensen tightened his arms around her, pressing a kiss against her forehead. 

“Okay, I like that idea better,” he sighed. 

“This is why I’m the smart one, and you’re the pretty one,” she replied with a soft giggle. He huffed at that comment. 

“You’ll pay for that later. Go back to sleep.”

“Kay.”

[codenamesazanka]

for the longest time i just assumed that Spinner did not care/was dismissive about Shigaraki until after the 'destroy everything' speech; and vice versa. We had no reason to think otherwise: Spinner disregarded Shigaraki's kill list; he was skeptical of the Overhaul highway ambush in Chapter 160; and everyone was waiting for a clash because Spinner wouldn't shut up about Stain while Shigaraki held a kid hostage just so he had someone to complain to about how he hated Stain. There was no indication of anything beyond probable mutual annoyance between them. the most likely prediction was not without reason: 'wonder when Shigaraki will dust Spinner'.

chapter 220 was the start of the turning point, and 222 being it. And even 220 start off with Spinner straight up grabbing Shigaraki by the collar and yelling at him for basically not being a good leader. only after that, after the speech, did it seemed like Spinner pay attention. after that, Spinner revised his consideration. He came to empathize with Shigaraki. Shigaraki was proving himself, and Spinner was watching. Shigaraki was called an angry loser and Spinner felt for him. Only then, I thought, did Spinner lower his walls to discuss games. Only then, did they bonded.

And all this was nearly solely on Spinner's side. What did Shigaraki think? No idea. the same regard he held for all other team members. Perhaps mild obligation to respond to Spinner's loyalty, perhaps not.

But Chapter 371 gave us League of Legends, and Chapter 373 gave us the flashback of them chatting, and Chapter 393 showed us Spinner peeking over Shigaraki's shoulder as he played a game, and these were all clearly situated in a time before the events of 220-222. They were already getting along okay. "We bonded over games and stuff" was already happening.

It reframed things: the CRC slaughter, perhaps having affected Spinner more than he let on in the narration. Before, he was fine chilling with Shigaraki, joining the League in conversations about Villain names, being part of the relaxed atmosphere. Morning after CRC, he's withdrawn into himself - arms crossed, staring Shigaraki down, watching the relaxed atmosphere with displeasure, frustration obvious.

Spinner was triggered. He was reminded of why he sought out the League in the first place. And him yelling at Shigaraki can be seen as less dismissal and challenge of an unworthy boss, and more disappointment and hurt of a friend.

If they were already friends - or getting there - by then, then Shigaraki's speech takes on slightly new framing as well. It's not just a boss proving himself; it's a friend trying to repair a strain. It's not him trying to convince a skeptical follower to continue following him, it's him having listened to what Spinner was saying and taking time to reflect on it, address it. It's Shigaraki sharing his own pain, right after Spinner shared his.

It wasn't just, I have no sense of self and I need a leader to follow and Here's a purpose, then, if you want it.

It was: The world emptied me out. It suffocated me. We killed the worst offenders of my suffering but it's not enough. I've been hurt by more than that. I remember now, just how bad it was. i've been hurt my whole life.

And Shigaraki decided, Then let's destroy everything, and that is his kindness, twisted as it is, it is absolutely genuine.

for all that Spinner was enthralled by Shigaraki promise of destruction, captivated by the horizon, it's Shigaraki who brought it up first. Spinner wanted the world to change; so Shigaraki offered destruction. Shigaraki dreamed up the beautiful horizon; and Spinner decided he would shoulder that burden. Shigaraki's dream became Spinner's dream, becoming Shigaraki's promise of their dream.

[sexhaver]

every time some smug yuropoor reblogs my post about Biblically Accurate Highways with some variation of "ummm haven't americans heard of ROUNDABOUTS?" i kill another hostage

[hollowtakami]

WHEN THE WORLD NEEDS YOU

Keigo Takami x GN reader

CONTENT; warning for implications of s/h, suicidal ideation, references to insomnia/depression, hurt comfort, angst, established relationship, pet names (duckie, birdie, baby bird, baby), references to struggles with eating + taking care of yourself amidst depressive episodes

WORD COUNT; 1899

AUTHOR NOTE; it’s currently 5am and my insomnia has kept me up with my thoughts, so i wrote this to try and vent out some feelings. It’s a little heavy in some parts, so please read with caution - if you feel like you can’t read this, please do not feel obligated to do so. You’re loved, you deserve to be here. Please take care of yourself. <3

The morning light seeped under closed curtains, flooding onto the floor of your room. Heavy eyes stared to the ceiling as your heart pounded in your chest. Insomnia had you in the palm of its hand and it was squeezing the life out of you - you were tired, you just wanted rest.

When life felt like a chore, any leftover energy wasted on doing the dishes, you found yourself needing to hug Keigo’s jacket when you tried to fall asleep. It was a survival instinct at this point, you and that jacket against the flurry of thoughts in your head. On nights when Keigo was called in for night patrols, the void that his existence stitched up burst open again. It wasn’t his fault, you put it down to you being broken.

Your eyes were almost as heavy as your heart. That beating clock was weighing you down into the mattress, the heap of blankets on top of you that reminded you of Keigo’s wings, the fur lining of his jacket against your cheek; little things like that brought you peace, but not in this moment. Right now, everything was too much. You groaned, a tired hand lifting to rub your eyes, as if that would aid you in your fruitless attempt at falling asleep.

Not that there was any point in falling asleep. It was well into the early morning now, you’d be awake until afternoon the next day. That’s when you’d be lying in bed, and, like always, your eyes would give up on you. You’d wake up around midnight and the cycle would repeat all over again.

Keigo worked most weekdays, having the day off occasionally, if the agency was feeling generous. He was in high demand most of the time, there’d been a sudden spike in villain activity.

He’d work to keep you safe, he always promised you that before he kissed your knuckles gently, hurrying off to aid citizens in need.

You would always stand on the balcony and watch him fly off, see how his shape got smaller the further away he got. Jealousy burned deep in the pit of your stomach; you felt selfish for it, but you couldn’t help it.

You needed Keigo, but everyone else needed him more because people didn’t know how to behave themselves. You were angry at the world for stealing him, you pinned it down as that and have ignored it since.

But now you were laying alone in your bed, his jacket giving off a homely scent that made your heart hurt. The blankets weren’t enough to replace the weight and warmth of those crimson feathers anymore - you became desperate, your heart was banging against your chest cavity, screaming and begging for release.

The relief never came. It never would until he came back.

Thoughts of that twisted kind of relief found its way into the crossroads of your mind, jumping straight into the highway of neurons and catching you by surprise.

Elsewhere, Keigo was just finishing up with a petty thief who’d robbed a convenience store. This spike of criminal activity was very much morphed into a moral panic by the media. The most dangerous thing Keigo had had to deal with recently was a hostage situation, but for some reason, even those were rare. It seems the LOV had scared most low-level thugs into hiding, or in the very least, had seriously knocked their confidence and they were doing everything they could to seem tough; even if that was stealing melon bread from their local store.

Keigo stretched, yawning as his wings spread. He stood patiently waiting for the police to come and collect the restrained villains at his feet. They were petty thieves, sure, but Keigo had had enough action for one night.

Checking his phone in the meantime, his free, ungloved hand tapped away at his screen to check for any messages from you. He did this a lot, any time he had free time on the job, mostly. He put it down to muscle memory.

He frowned a little when he noticed you hadn’t texted him - at all, in fact.

Humming to himself, he pocketed his phone when he noticed a flash of red and blue, a siren’s screams coming into earshot.

With a laugh, he knelt down to the villains, plucking a feather from his left wing and poking it into the tight ropes of one of the angry thugs.

“I’ll let them take care of you from here!” Keigo saluted towards the police cars approaching, before wasting no time to lift off, cutting through the air with godlike speed. Leisurely flying through the early morning air, Keigo yawned. Granted, the air was sure to wake him up, breeze stroking back his messy golden bangs, tired eyes hidden behind his visor. His wings flapped as he reached for his back pocket, taking out his phone again and calling your number.

“Come on, birdie, pick up,” He clicked his tongue, hoping you’d be awake, even if your lack of messages told him you were probably asleep.

Straight to voicemail. The robotic phone voice played out into the morning breeze and Keigo felt concern start to bubble at the bottom of his stomach. He weighed his options - you definitely hadn’t blocked him, you never turned off your phone either. He eased his mind a little by concluding that you were just asleep. Still, if he was gonna get any sleep himself, he needed to check up on you.

As to not surprise you with his visit, he made sure to text you that he was coming over.

Your phone buzzed. It snapped you out of your thoughts, making you jump. You noticed a missed call from Keigo, a message too. You mumbled to yourself how pathetic you were for drowning so deep in your thoughts that you couldn’t hear your own phone ringing.

You didn’t have the energy to text him back, to tell him that everything was fine and that he didn’t need to come over. The tear stains on your cheek, your racing heart, clammy skin; they told you otherwise.

That one thought pulsated around your head, it was laughing at you, taunting you. You wanted to hold your head, shake it out in a screaming fit.

You would, if there wasn’t a worried, wide-eyed Keigo at your bedroom window.

You slithered off your bed, sniffling and rubbing your eyes as you unlocked and lifted the sill of your window. Keigo wobbled inside, folding his wings and soon regaining his balance. You could feel his eyes darting around your room but you couldn’t look at him, your head down. You were ashamed of yourself, but then again, your depression always did that to you.

Keigo didn’t feel the need to ask as to why you were covering your arms.

His eyes met the spare jacket he gifted you, wrapped messily around one of your pillows next to a pile of blankets scrunched up like discarded paper, forgotten thoughts, notes.

“Duckie,” Keigo’s voice shook as he pulled your head into his chest, his arms folding around your frame as your own stayed stuck to your sides. “Duckie, talk to me.”

Your frame shook with unexpected sobs. You wanted to repress, but you couldn’t. Keigo made you vulnerable. Whether or not that was a good thing, you didn’t know. His hand to your head, softly stroking back the hair stuck to your face with the glue of your tears, his other hand gently pressed into your back, applying a pressure that made you feel safe, secure, amidst the storm of your feelings.

You tried not to make too much noise, nor did you want to soil Keigo’s hero costume with tears you didn’t want to shed in the first place. You felt so pathetic, like you didn’t need to feel this way, like depression only picked on you to mock you - you had no reason to be sad, it told you, you were just a fraud, nobody wanted you here, it pointed and laughed at you every moment you opened your eyes unto the world.

A world you didn’t wish to be born into, a world that cursed you the moment you left the warmth of your mother’s womb. A world that Keigo was in, too.

“I just,” You choked on your emotions. They got stuck in your throat and they stayed there, adamant to steal your breath. “I just don’t wanna do this anymore”

Your words came rushing out into the fabric of Keigo’s shirt, muffled as they poured from your heart. You couldn’t speak anymore, your ribs, shoulders, your entire body relentlessly heaving up and down from your cries.

Keigo held you patiently, hugging you tightly and grounding you. He slowly wrapped his wings around you, letting you get lost in the softness, the warmth.

A small kiss was planted onto your head like a small seed of hope, Keigo whispering into your hair. “Hey, easy, birdie,” His hand stroked your hair again - it was definitely muscle memory. “Just breathe with me, slowly, in and out,”

Gently applying more pressure to your back, Keigo held you closer to him as if he wanted to become one with you, to be able to fight off all your pain for you and set you free. Amidst the exaggerated epidemic of villain activity, the one villain he could never defeat was your sadness, and it killed him.

He felt relieved as he felt you breathing in time with him, your shaking subsiding to small shivers, sobs tuning down to sniffling.

“There you go, baby,” Keigo slowly lifted your chin with a hooked finger, looking into the bloodshot-white of your eyes. “I'm here now, i’m gonna take care of you,”.

If there was one thing you were grateful for, it was Keigo’s patience. He understood that your depression found its way into your bone marrow and made functioning, living, so difficult. He knew that there were days where you hardly ate anything or drank any water, days where you swore to yourself you’d do that one chore, but never did - it was okay, he’d always tell you.

“I’m so proud of you, baby bird, so proud of you,” Keigo muttered into your hair, “I’m so glad you’re still here,”

You smiled as best you could.

“I love you, Keigo.” You mumbled, pressing an ear to his chest, the sound of his heartbeat was a lifeline to you.

Keigo breathed through his nose, kissing your forehead and squeezing you gently as he smiled. “I love you too, duckie, so much.”

After calming you down, Keigo would bandage you up, guiding you through it. He’d drink a glass of water and grab a snack with you, because he knew it made it easier for you. He’d hold you in his arms, swaying on his feet and making you giggle because he loved to hear your laugh and see that smile of yours. He loved you, he wanted to keep you safe. He’d keep fighting that villain in your head with you, Keigo was going to be there for you no matter what.

After making sure you were comfortable in bed, he mumbled a small goodnight to you, spooning you and planting gentle kisses on your back and shoulders, humming and lulling you to sleep.

And you would sleep, for the first time in weeks, peacefully.