Jesse 'Ash' Kincaid

Photo cred

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

▸ who is : ᴊᴇꜱꜱᴇ / ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍɪʟɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴀɴ

╰┈| Jesse walks like he’s borrowed time’s favorite son — a grin too wide, a heart too loud, and hands that remember every flame they’ve passed through. Death has touched him more than once, kissed him breathless and spit him back out, laughing. He’s chaos in perfect uniform: shirt always pressed, boots always shined, like he’s daring the world to stain him. But when the call comes in—wrong voice, right code—his smile dies. The man who jokes through burning roofs falls quiet. He knows her silence better than anyone. And if she’s in danger? There’s no fire he won’t walk through. Again.

▸ summary :

╰┈| He hears it mid-change, fingers still on his buttons. A voice that isn’t hers calls in a fire that isn’t real. But the system pings the real address—Mercer—and tags it with an S.O.S. She found a way. She’s calling out. And Jesse? Jesse's halfway in the truck before his partner even registers the shift. All charm gone. No smirk. Just heat and storm and rescue.

▸ location info :

⌇ location : Station 77, humming in quiet routine.

⌇ time : Early afternoon, right before the sky turns gold.

⌇ scene : His boots slam into the cab floor. The radio’s still crackling when he throws the truck into gear. Sirens wail. Jesse doesn't speak, not yet. He just drives—faster than he's allowed, tighter than he should. In his eyes, a hurricane is forming. He’s not losing her. Not today. Not after everything. “Hold on, darlin’. I’m comin’.”