#but I also can't make new dresses until I'm back to my normal weight or they won't fit right for long

[nipuni]

A stroll through the royal gardens and a traditional lunch in the early 1800s 😊

[twosidedcherrytrees]

THE OBSESSION HAS STRUCK AGAIN SO I REDESIGNED MY KID ICARUS OC

There's a bit of stuff about canon characters if you're interested but be warned this is mainly about my OC(s)

Info about her under the cut!

Aera is an ex servant of Aphrodite that defected during the Trojan War. She was a part of an elite group of Cupids (Basically Aphrodite's Angels? Im workshopping it) before joining Palutena's army, eventually making her way up to an army general. She defected because she fell in love with the Goddess of Light. She stole her bow when she left, and it's actually the Angel's Bow you use in Kid Icarus: Uprising!

Cupids are kinda like angels, but with hollow bones and dove wings, which are weaker. They were also, for the most part, free to do as they please as long as it fell in line with Aphrodite's mission statement of "causing love and problems". Aera argued that her leaving the army to elope with another goddess participating in the Trojan War did both and that she should've gotten a severance package for it.

That's not all- she's also Pit's mom! Kinda. She's not quite.. sure how he got there. She just kinda found him in a fruit basket full of Quince and Figs one day when he was a baby (hence the name Pit!) with a note attached saying it was hers. She didn't really question it since she just thought that's how angels were born. In all actuality it was Aphrodite in an attempt to get her taken off of Palutena's guard. It did not work.

The reason I believe Pit can't fly (at least in my lore) because his wings are dove wings, but his bones aren't hollow and therefore the wings cant support his weight! When a god grants him his flying abilities, they're really just temporarily granting him angel wings instead of his dove wings, and you could hypothetically do the same spell with any human.

Oh yeah in this lore I've created Palutena is Pit's other mom. She is not aware of this. Aphrodite never told her this. Love wins in strange ways. At least Palutena gets to keep Aera's statue-d corpse from Medusa's first invasion to Skyworld all those years ago? Silver linings people.

Facts about Aera that are more about how she affected the world around her than her:

She's the reason Palutena dresses the way she does now and not like she did back in the first game! Once Pit saved Palutena and they made their way back to the temple, Palutena... borrowed some of Aera's clothes. Over the years, it just became her fashion sense! Not like Aera needs them anymore.

She shared a house with her friend named Ivory! During the invasion of Skyworld, Ivory had managed to escape on a cloud, since they were actually one of Hermes's servants who had been negotiating sky travel with Palutena in the messenger god's stead. They had tried to take Pit with them when they fled, as of Aera's request, but they failed. I don't have any NEW art of Ivory, and some of their old art gave them wings, but I do have some old photos of them, which I'll show along-side the other photos! All that matters is that they're still alive!

Pit doesn't actually remember her! I imagine he was a bit young when the invasion happened (4/5) and that he was in the underworld for at least a year until Palutena called for his assistance. I'm allowed to mess with the timeline a little. As a treat. But anyways yeah he doesn't know she was his mom or that she had dove wings, which means he doesn't know HE has dove wings since they look pretty similar and he doesn't really have any other angels to compare them to.

All the art shown down here has outdated designs but the jokes are still the same.

Okay bye see you when I eventually have normal Kid Icarus art that isn't of my OCs okay bye 👍

[katsukikitten]

A harem collab in which we go to a party with our v precious hero 18+ Smut boooiiii

Sitting across from him never did get easier. As much as you told yourself it would. 

If anything it got harder and harder to share the same room as him, let alone air. 

But you were lucky enough, or unlucky enough, to join the agency when you did and to be partnered with your big time crush FatGum. Although you idolized him you were sure he didn't remember you. 

And how could he? He saved countless people a day so it should be no surprise that he had no idea who you were on your first day. Still, it stung. 

And it shouldn't still sting or come to a surprise when he sets down a flyer on your desk. A huge smile on his chubby cheeks as he taps the sheet of paper.

"Can you believe it?! The agency is throwing a new year's eve party!" He practically gushes, lingering by your desk with his intoxicating smile. He rummages in his brown bag, setting breakfast onto your desk careful to avoid getting grease stains on the flyer as if you'd hang it up one day instead of shoving it into the trash. 

"They have one every year." You shrug, thanking him for the breakfast but tossing the paper into the trash can. His smile never waivers as he pulls it from the fresh bin, returning it to the smooth wooden top. 

"Yea but not at a fancy hotel and never an open bar! We should go!" His eyes crinkle in the corners and your heart hammers in your chest. 

Little do you know he prays to the Gods you don't say no. 

"I dont know, it's such short notice. Like next week ain't it?." At least it wasn't a no. He smiles, thinking of your competative behavior. 

"Oh I see what it is." He takes the sheet from your desk, waltzing to his own, "You're scared."

"Tch, scared of what?" You hiss, snatching for the paper. 

"Scared I'll out drink you!" He laughs at your cute scowl as you size him up. His metabolism was insane, and with him being in his larger state you might not be able to win. 

But he didn't have to know that. 

"You fucking wish you could out drink me! Remember the last party we went to? You showed your age and could barely stand!"

"Oi! I was much thinner then. I think luck is on my side this time." He slaps his belly and you smile. A genuine laugh fills the room causing Taishiro's heart to clench. 

"Yea, yea." You wipe away a tear, "We'll see." 

The day drags on and on, turning into a week of you glancing his way. Making sure he wasn't gaining any extra weight as he brought you your normal breakfast daily. 

It wasn't until the day of the party did you gain the advantage, a fight almost turned wrong and Taishiro had to use majority of that stored fat for a deadly punch to stop the villain from terrorizing the city. 

Still you'd never want this type of advantage just for a stupid drinking contest. Although he was not at his largest, he still had a considerable "dad bod" going on. 

"I still can't believe they had a tux in this size so late!" Taishiro shouts into the locker room at the agency, adjusting his tie as he waits for you. Meanwhile nerves eat you alive as you stare into your reflection, wondering if this dress fit okay, smoothing the fabric over your stomach self consciously. 

"You okay in there? We're gonna be late." He calls softly, hoping you aren't having second thoughts about going with someone like him. 

"Coming!" You call back, glancing at your deep amber dress a final time before rushing into the hall. 

"I was just thinking you were going to forfeit and then I-" Words die in his throat and he drinks you in. Beautifully complimented by the shape and color of your dress as he mouth hangs agape. 

"Wow. You look…" 

"Tai, I know, I look...different." 

"Amazing, perfect, breathtaking." He gives you a pointed look, "Which is no different than how you normally look." 

Heat creeps up the back of your neck and you're thankful he misses your flustered expression. The walk to the hotel and the brisk cold air gives you time to not only cool off but think.

Really reflect on the year, this horribly rotten, all bad luck year. Reminding you of all the times you had failed but also reminding you of all the opportunities you had missed. And not opportunities in the sense of promotions or saving people but opportunities to get closer with a certain somebody. 

You glance up at him and he glances down at you, smiling in a way that sets your skin on fire and yet it makes you feel at ease. 

Slowly you were coming to hate it. 

"I'm excited that they decided to invite some smaller agencies. Means I can introduce you to some of the kids I interned. Well I guess they are adults now huh." He looks nostalgic, sad even as he stares into space. Opening the door to the large hotel and it the look sticks with him until he is just before the party doors. 

"Ready?" 

"As ready as I'll ever be." You huff as he places his hand on the small of your back, bringing you into the rented ballroom. Lights and sounds consume your sense as music dances around light conversation. You're beginning to wonder if a drinking contest was such a good idea that is before you see the CEO of your agency totally shit faced. You glanced down at your watch, it was only 8pm. 

Taishiro guides you around the room with a "starter" drink, introducing you to old and new faces. Beaming with pride as he introduces you as his partner and not his sidekick like other heroes had done in the past. You hated how much your heart raced. 

"And this is Kirishima! He was one of my best and most memorable! Kids got guts and heart in spades!" He slaps Kirishima on the back and the young man slumps forward with a sharp toothed smile. 

"Aw come on, I wasn't that great…" He scratches the back of his head. 

"I heard that's when you became 'unbreakable'! I think that's so cool!" You gush over the young hero complimenting him to no end. 

"Stop. You'll give me a big head." He smiles, blushing furiously before his eyes wander to the closeness of the two of you and then they settle on your drinks, "You're not trying to out drink the infamous FatGum are you?" 

You laugh loudly before leaning in close as if to share a secret. 

"Oh, yes and I plan to kick his ass." 

Kirishima returns your smile and stage whispers 

"Taishiro-sama has lost a good bit of weight. I believe in you!" He winks before someone across the room calls for him, "Call me when you get really started!!" 

Two hours pass and you find yourself sitting across from your partner with his sleeves rolled up. Showcasing those deadly forearms as he slams back another shot. Kirishima keeps tally on hotel stationary and announces the number of shots. 

"You'll have to take five to be in the lead! You'll have two minutes to decide to forfeit or-" But before he can finish you're grabbing for one of the prefilled shot glasses. 

"Kanpai!" You shout, slinging them down, ignoring how the room is spinning and how bright the light reflects off of the table full of empty shot glasses. 

Kirishima's eyes widen as you down an extra shot for good measure, tallying the booze count with worry.

"Fat hero." He says, almost gritting his teeth, "You'll have to take seven to be in the lead." 

The large hero leans on his forearms on the table, the alcohol he's had had mostly been processed and maybe your figured that out. That he was starting to lose his edge so he takes you up on the challenge knocking back the several shots as if they were water. You're eager to gulp down a few more praying it drowns out your feelings for the sexy man across from you, instead he lets his broad hand hover over the shot glasses. Silently giving you a reprieve and noticing just how much you're sweating, how blown your pupils are. 

"Let's give it a minute shall we?" He smiles as you drown in his golden eyes. Biting at your lower lip and with a defiant grip you swallow down a final shot.

"Your turn." You focus hard to make sure your words didn't slur, not wanting this feeling or night to end. He snorts, shaking his head wishing you acted out any other time than this. 

"I forfeit." He places his hands up and you glare at him as you wonder if he did it on purpose. Before you have the time to accuse the crowd erupts into a deafening cheer, the room lags as you try to place names with faces as they come close to congratulate you. As more and more people crowd you, the hotter the room feels. Politely you excuse yourself to an enclave balcony closing the doors tightly behind you as you gulp down air, desperate to cool off and douse the desire that burns hot in your belly seeping to your core. 

"Fuck." You rake your nails through your hair as a hit of icy air skates along your skin leaving goose flesh in its wake. A steady warmth comes from behind you, voice deep as he speaks softly. You can tell he's using the same tone he uses on victims, trying not to startle them with his size. 

Little did he know how much you loved how much bigger he was. A safe haven, protection embodied. 

"Ready to go home?"

"No I'm fine! Perfectly fine." He sucks his teeth at your stubborn reply, leaning in close with his hands in the pockets of his tux. 

"You look flushed...you seem out of it." 

"I'm totally of sound mind!" A bark to which he laughs, giving in to the liquid courage as his large hand tilts your chin towards him. Flirting with a line he swore he'd never cross. 

"Yea, if you're so sound of mind, would you let me do this?" He asks, leaning closer, lips almost brushing yours. Your breath mingles with his in little puffs of fog agaisnt the cool air and suddenly you're burning again. 

From the inside out.

His lips touch yours, gently, passive at first and if he's trying to fight against his urges. Slowly he breaks away, amber eyes glued to your mouth before he sighs. Hoping he didn't just fuck everything up. 

In an instant you're drawing him back to you, hands in his golden wheat hair and your fingers weave through the strands. Mouth opening and demanding more as his large hands grip onto your ribcage as if you'd float away. 

And maybe you would, you felt like you could. 

Frantically your hands demand more, exploring up his shirt, touching across his stomach and digging your nails down his back. His own hands follow suit, gripping at your ass and tits, memorizing every luscious curve until he is drunk off of you and you only. You moan into his mouth and with that he loses all restraint. 

Shoving you against the harsh brick building, fisting your hair to tilt your head for better access, exploring your mouth with his well skilled wet muscle. Hands trailing beneath your dress to find your dress, squeezing at your thick thighs and when you moan in approval he moves higher and higher still until his fingers brush against the damp fabric. This time it is his turn to groan as he presses his hardened cock against you, your hips move to grind against his large fingers. 

"Please Tai" It is soft, breathy, sending him into a frenzy as he gives you exactly what you want. Letting his fingers slip beneath the fabric to gather the slick between your folds, gently rubbing against your throbbing clit. You arch against his touch, exposing your neck to him, he leans over and bites. Placing kisses along your throat, making sure to be careful enough to avoid marks before his hazed brain causes him to speak. 

To confess. 

"Do you know how long I've wanted to do this?" He asks, plunging his fingers into your tight heat, stretching you as you mewl, "Ever since I first laid eyes on you. Kamisama you were perfect. And tonight. Fuck baby. Wearing my eye color for all to see. You want people to think you're mine?" 

"Yes, Taishiro. I want people to think I'm yours." You moan, fucking yourself on his fingers before he takes over. Setting a quick pace before he curls his thick fingers just right, in an instant you're creaming against his digits. Crying out as he overstimulates you before he covers your mouth with his broad hand, reminding you just how much he dwarfs you.  

It makes you cum again and again and he corners you against the wall. Cock twitching as he laps up your sinful faces with a gluttonous appetite. 

"Please Tai, pleeeasse." 

"What's wrong baby? My fingers not enough?" His cocky tone drives you mad and your hips buck against his touch before he withdraws from your heat. Panting he levels his gaze yo you. 

"Is this what you want?" Peppering you with kisses as if you could deny him and his godly hands.

"Don't make me beg Tai…" You rasp, he gives a devilish smile. 

"Then I won't." His hands slink up your dress, gathering it at your waist as on skillful finger pulls the overly damp underwear away from your soaking sex. He frees himself and you swallow, not realizing just how large he was, for a moment you worry you won't be able to take him. 

"I'll be gentle." He coos, easing himself in an inch at a time as your stretch around his thick cock. Pussy fluttering as it adjusts to his size, he gathers your legs to his sides, squeezing your hips to keep from rutting into you roughly. He pistons his hips slowly, watching your face contort as he angles himself just right. Sensual thrusts have your legs and pussy squeezing him so deliciously tight. Still he worries he's going to hurt you.

"You okay?" Alcohol lingers on his breath and you swallow him whole with a kiss. Moaning into his mouth softly as he rocks you into one of your most intense orgasms to date. It's a slow build, undeniably intoxicating as his steady pace hits your spongy soft spot and his pelvis rubs against your clit. The coil in your stomach snaps and your body clamps onto the behemoth of a man tightly, stars dot your vision as he continues to fuck you through it. 

"God you're so beautiful ya know? So responsive to my touch. Taking me so well baby." He purrs against your ear, "Makes me want to keep this pace all night." 

He keeps true to his promise, bringing you to new heights at the steadiest of paces, causing you to lose count of how many times you've cum on his length. Pussy attempting to milk him dry as he palm swallows your screams. He looks at your features, your makeup running from delirious tears, mouth fallen opened in a propetial O as your hair clings to your skin. 

"Kamisama you're like art." He kisses your quickened pulse, "Ready for me to fill you love? You're squeezing me so tight…" 

He groans and all you can think of his him and the searing pleasure that courses through your veins to settle in your over sensitive heat. His cock twitches and you want nothing more than to be stuffed full of the Fat Hero's fat cock and his cum.  But words are lost in your hoarse throat and all you can do is nod, moaning his name as if it were a prayer. It's all the encouragement he needs, quickening his pace as the crowd inside grows louder. Counting down from 10. 

It's all lost to you and his hips snap against you, the brick scraping against your shoulders as his grip on you becomes so tight you're sure you'll bruise. Your body hyper aware of every little sensation as you drown in pleasure and warm amber sun, he groans, painting your walls in hot ropes of cum, your vision spots as your body arches to meet him as your spams a final time while his lips crash to yours. 

All the while fireworks erupt over head, bringing in the new year on a literal high note. 

He huffs, sweating as he looks at you, still buried to the hilt. Swiping his thumb over your cheek and running mascara before he breathes out so gently. 

"Happy new year baby." 

[darkacademicfrom2021]

The Dark Team (part 13)

<<Previous part Masterlist   Next part>>

(Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @the-departed-potato, @jesuswasnotawhiteman, @idontknow296, @beksib, @spythoschei, @geekwritersworld, @whatafuckingdumbass, @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 @toe-vind-ek-jou @joscelyn02, @t00-pi, @irwxnhugsx )

Warnings: creepy man, hungover (alcohol mentions), abduction mentions.

Chirping birds woke you up as the light hit your face. It was a slightly sunny morning, you could see. A cold one, too. Your head ached; yesterday’s wine was stronger than you’d think. You remembered very little, and the hangover weighed on your feet as you tried to stand up. Soon, that weight redistributed up to your head, dizziness almost throwing you back in bed.

With much more effort than before, you got up and walked slowly to the kitchen, glancing around. Last night, a sticky kid fell asleep on the doorframe. You chuckled and decided to not wake him up. Loki was nowhere to be found; must be sleeping in his own room, if he had one by then.

An ibuprofen and some cold water later, you checked the time. It was so early; six in the morning. You decided to get working already; maybe someone on the team was awake. If not, you could at least take things off your to-do list for the day and get time free at noon to play videogames with Peter, or help him with that Lego Stark Tower he has been trying to build for almost two weeks now. A nice walk in the park to get some fresh air until some coffee shop opened; that’s what you needed.

The streets were emptier than you’d imagine, and then you realized it was saturday. Peeping in, a coffee shop next block was already opening, and people were lining up to get in. You made sure to have brought money and a laptop with you, and as you reached your pockets you realized you had your suit on, under normal clothes. Well, at least I’m prepared for anything now. Even a sunday morning in a lovely coffee shop, you thought, laughing to yourself. If Tony saw you like this, he’d recall that word he says you inherited from him. Paranoid. But no, Stark, I’m just hungover. Good to know your first instinct once you get up off bed is to suit up. Tony'd be proud. And a little disappointed, too.

You got a table far from the window, wall behind your back making sure nobody could eye your laptop. Once you were settled in and your coffee was getting cold, you started working. You were so glad you were out of the public eye, so you could afford yourself all of these outside activities. Sounded stupid, but if you were to have dinner with Sam, or Steve, or Thor, you’d have to also deal with paparazzis all night long. Actually, in dining out with Thor, paparazzis would be the least of your problems.

“Hey”, greeted Bucky from the other line. “It’s so early, what are you doing up?”.

“Buck, it’s already ten”.

“Oh”, he said, and you heard a sliding curtain by his side. “Oh, there it is. Sunlight”.

“Why are your times all twisted?”.

“We stayed up until five”.

“Doing what?”.

“Let’s say the mini bar was not so mini”.

“Oh my God”, you laughed, and checked for your work on the laptop. “At this point, I think the only one who didn’t get drunk last night is Spidey. Ah. Listen, I’ve arranged today’s plan, and it has to go right or else you can get abducted again. And we don’t want that, okay?”.

“I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do now. Didn’t we already get the stick?”.

“That’s the point, there’s more… you know, bottles hanging around” you lowered your voice. The coffee shop was almost empty, but just in case, you kept it under your breath. “That’s why you gotta get into Hydra’s last base again. Do not go alone”.

You instructed Bucky and then he tried his best to put you on speaker to the rest of the team, but failed. None of them could actually figure out how to do it; Steve was even less familiar with cell phones, and Thor… well, not even elaborating on him. The only Asgardian who seemed familiar enough with Midgard’s technologies was sleeping soundly on the compound. You had to explain the plan thoroughly another two times individually, and then finally hung up and got to work, sending them coordinates and turning off Hydra’s hacked security cameras.

Once they were already in, you had not much more to do. At least for a few hours, they’d be completely submerged in there, and your help wasn’t needed anymore. You still planned for some outcomes and didn’t even notice the man standing in front of you.

“Excus…”.

“OH... my God”, you gasped, taking yourself off your hyper focused state. The man chuckled. His teeth, yellow, seemed like he didn’t know anything about dental hygiene. His clothes were perfectly cleaned, though, in a tidy office-type suit; but his hair was hidden by a peaked cap that barely let you see his eye expressions. Very weird looking. Hard to read. Just now unemployed? Dressed like that to get attention? You frowned and closed all tabs, opening a fake account of email and some cheap online magazine. “What do you need?”.

“Can I sit here?”.

“No”.

He smiled weirdly and manspreaded in the chair you told him not to sit in. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“What are you doing?”, he asked.

You ignore him and keep pretending to read your mails, eyeing how many people were in there too. It was getting fuller than before. If he wanted to steal your laptop he’d have to do it in front of all of these people, and cross the whole coffee shop. He wasn’t planning on stealing. You made a security copy of all the files anyways.

“You have pretty eyes”.

You ignored him again, but now understood his intentions. God, people could be so shameless sometimes. You literally told him to go away. You’ll repeat it, just in case he would actually listen this time.

“Go away”.

He chuckled and stayed in place.

“I just want to talk, sweetie”.

“Sure. I’m not interested”.

“You have a boyfriend?”.

“I have a very strong fist”.

He got closer, leaning on the table, and lowering his voice said “You’re working on the supersoldiers mission, yes?”.

You froze. Suddenly, the creepy man was a bigger threat than you’d anticipated. Your hand hovered over the gun in your pocket, holding strong eye contact with him.

“Who are you?”.

“What do you have in your pocket?”, he teased.

“Wanna find out?”, you threatened.

Looking over his shoulder, an all-too-familiar fifteen year old hid behind a pile of coffee cups from the bar counter, holding his breath to not laugh. You sighed and broke the tension.

“Funny. Very funny. I almost shoot you, you know”.

“That’s not a very good instinct”.

“Not an instinct, I truly wanted to shoot you”.

“You sure were, pancake”, he said as he transformed back into himself, still in those ugly clothes covering half his face. As he looked down to himself, he frowned and changed his clothes to an Asgardian armor. “But your mortal bullets would be no more than a caress to my skin”.

“Let’s give it a try, shall we?”, you cocked your gun, joking. He laughed, and Peter got increasingly nervous as you played with your toys in a public and safe place, surrounded by civilians. “Don’t worry, Pete, it’s fake”.

Peter sighed in relief as you clarified and put it back in your pocket, and Loki smirked, knowing perfectly well you just lied.

“Why don’t we get something to drink, too, mr. Loki?”.

“Yeah, whatever you want, kid”.

“Not a kid”.

“Apologies. Actually, can you order it? I’m afraid Midgardians don’t usually take kindly to my presence”, he asked. Peter nodded.

“I do, mr. Loki”.

"What?".

"Take it kindky".

Loki smiled and raised his eyebrows, a bit confused. Muttered an “I’m glad” and instructed him to get an americano, while you packed your laptop in the backpack.

"How's the incognito working out for you in your shiny armor?"

"Better than before. At least now I'm comfortable while getting the same bad looks I always get anyways".

"Shapeshifter can't manage to hide, how ironic", you said, giving him one of the new earbuds, with an attachable mic. "Since you have good strategy plans and you sort of know what you're doing, work with me".

"I thought we were already working together. You know, in this stupid thing called The Dark...".

"Yeah", you interrupted him, rolling your eyes once again. "From behind the scenes, I mean. This is so you can listen to whatever my earbud hears. Don't bite your tongue if you have any inputs, I'm running out of solutions".

Your phone rang again as you were getting up.

“Yes?”.

“It’s all gone to trash, y/n. We need a new plan, I can’t find Buck anywhere. What’s your backup?”, rushed Steve’s voice. It sounded like it was from a public service phone, and the static didn’t let you hear Steve’s surroundings. Loki looked at the floor, concentrating. He didn't find anything either, and was too far away to read his mind.

“Wait. What do you mean you can’t find him? You were supposed to keep an eye on him so he doesn’t get kidnapped again”, you said, opening your laptop again and looking for Bucky’s location. He didn’t have it on him.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant with ‘it’s all gone to trash’”.

“Okay, don’t freak out. Where are you?”.

“Hydra’s last base, top of the buil…”.

“Hold up, I have another incoming call”. You put him on hold and see who’s calling. It was Bucky, this time. You sigh out of relief. Peter watched you two concerned while approaching you with two coffee cups. You gestured to him to not talk, and Loki had started to type things in your computer. “Buck, where are you? What happened?”.

On the other side of the line, you didn’t get a specific answer. You heard muffled noises that you still couldn’t quite figure out what they meant, and more than one person behind the phone.

“Buck, you there?”, you asked once again. Bucky’s voice filled the silence with a heartrending scream of agony. You almost dropped your phone, and your heart beated to the speed of light. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. They have him. “Buck!”.

“Three hours”, called someone, probably one of the Hydra butchers. “You have three hours”.

“Three hours for what?!”, you tried to hold them on the line while tracing the call. It was from a specific coordinate, nobody could get there unless they teleported. Luckily, you had the perfect person for the job. Loki looked at you quizzically.

"Do we not have better people on it? Can't Stark go?".

You returned to Steve’s call, while thinking about some other alternative than taking you three there (including Peter). “They have Bucky. Location’s very far away from where we all are, so you try to get out of there and go to Asgard with Thor; they’ll try to kidnap you too, and Hydra’s resources are global. No, don’t argue, you screw up, now you do exactly as I say”.

“Do you think they’re the same that hijacked the ship on the first part of the mission?”, asked Loki once you cut the call.

“They might. We have to go get him, there's no other way. The rest of the team comes back tomorrow and they can't leave”.

“No, I have to go”, said Loki. “But I’m supposed to stay with you two and make sure you’re not endangered, and I’m sure if I leave you here all alone, you’ll try to come by your own means”.

“Which means”, you added, “if you take us with you, you can make sure we don’t endanger ourselves”.

“This is a terrible idea”.

“But the only one so far”, you convinced him. “Pete, feeling like going on a dangerous mission?”.

“Hell yeah!”, he said eagerly. Loki was not very fond of his enthusiasm.

“I can do this”, you assured him. “Do you trust me?”.

“Yes”. He didn’t hesitate. “But I don’t trust them. You two will stay behind me facing the danger, alright? Nothing of wanting to play heroes”.

“Got it. Let’s suit up, fellas. Bucky’s waiting”.

[giggleandtears]

Crimson Renegade, Part 3

What it feels like to match wits (With someone at your level) 

Summary: Danvers and Kirk enjoy winding McCoy up

Pairings: OC/Jim Kirk(Platonic), OC/Leonard McCoy(Eventual Romance)

A/N: If you haven't seen Star Trek Discovery season 2, Pike makes it well worth it. ;-)

Enjoy!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Guiding me to the closest patient area, McCoy offers his hand to assist me in sliding onto the bio-bed. Jim quirks a brow at the chivalrous gesture but McCoy has already turned away to gather a few supplies for the exam. When Jim saddles up beside him, my mind runs wild with comparing the two men. Though they are roughly the same height, the air that surrounds them couldn’t be more different.  

Jim’s flaxen hair, crystal blue eyes, and perfectly chiseled jawline, screams fairy tale prince more than captain. Unless you use Captain Pike, circa 2250, as a barometer. Jim’s the type to whisk you off for an idyllic weekend getaway in a cabin, nestled between snow-capped mountains. A roaring fire would await, champagne chilled and at the ready. I think Dr. McCoy would take a slightly different approach. The fire would remain, as would a refreshing beverage. But replace the champagne with bourbon laden hot chocolate. The cabin would stand resolute against the onslaught of swirling flurries, having been built with the strength of his bare hands. Jim and McCoy are two sides of the same coin but only one is commanding my full attention.

"Ok, what you playin' at?” McCoy whispers to Jim, like salt through a grinder. It’s not standard practice for the captain to escort an uninjured crew member to the Med-bay just for a friendly hello. Jim looks on in unabashed amusement and lets McCoy continue his tirade. “We almost got shot to tarnation and you’re here to introduce a woman? Good god man! Have you no shame?” He says in a huff, gathering and regathering the same tricorder and PADD. “Are those boots even regulation?”

“They are.” I chime in sweetly, like honey flowing fresh from the comb. The boys slowly turn at McCoy’s covert mutterings being so easily overheard. “But the tights sadly are not, yet.”

Walking over to me, McCoy places the PADD beside me and can’t stop his eyes from wandering down. Under further inspection, my boots are indeed regulation, stopping just above my calves. The tights, however, are of my own design. Dark mesh blends expertly with my boots before shifting into a less opaque hue, coming to a point over my knee. Tracing McCoy’s gaze downward, I completely understand why the higher hemline of my dress uniform and the illusion of knee-high boots leaves the doctor’s mouth a bit parched.  

Clearing his voice before he continues, McCoy begins to run the tricorder around my head, then on a steady path from my forehead to abdomen and back. “So, what brings you to our favorite tin can in the sky?”

“I'm working on a new shield prototype with Scotty. Can't steal your head engineer, so here I am.”

“At least he's not on that ice planet anymore.” Jim says, with a nearly imperceptible shiver.  

“You always say that, but I had fun on Hoth.”

Shaking his head, Jim snorts wryly. “You’re about the only one.”

McCoy raises his brow at the name, no doubt never hearing of that planet in any star system. Sadly, that also means his knowledge of historical fiction is sorely lacking. How it’s not a more beloved genre is beyond me. Jim mouths ‘You don’t want to know’ to McCoy and lets it drop.  

“Keenser’s hooch always kept me warm. And what else do you really need besides that and good company?” I say. “Besides, it never seemed to be as cold as everyone whined it was.”  

A small smile highlights McCoy’s handsome features as he continues my scan. Although the warmth of his smile is unmistakable, the delicate lines around his eyes seem to narrate a tale of inner weariness. Something tells me coffee, a nap, or even a stiff drink couldn’t lessen whatever’s weighting on his shoulders.  

Returning to the conversation at hand, McCoy’s asks about my position on the Enterprise. “If you're a commander, doesn’t that make you chief engineer?”

“A commander is usually the head of a department. If Scotty needs me, I’ll be there to lend a hand but the prototype is my first priority.”

McCoy hums lowly in understanding, although his gaze has been diverted. He's concentrating deeply on the tricorder in his hands. After each tap of the device, his expressive brows grow closer and closer together.

“Something wrong?”

“Yea.” McCoy begins in a huff. “This darn thing is on the fritz again. I tried a few tricks Scotty taught me but nothin’s workin’. I assumed you were human and bypassed the initial scan but that didn’t help. You are human right?”

“To my knowledge, I am. Is trans-species a thing?”

“You’d be surprised.” McCoy says wryly. “All I got was you’re alive, but a bucktooth gopher in a melon patch is less obvious than that.”

I fail at holding back a snort.  “I have absolutely no idea what that means but it was certainly entertaining.” Offering to take a look, I extend my hand. “Let me see.” The blueprint for each circuit board and screen readout, run through my brain with ease. Fiddling with the small piece of technology is as natural as breathing.  Feeling the heavy gaze of a man no more than 2 paces away from me, is not. Widening his stance, McCoy impatiently crosses his arms after I open the back of the tricorder. I don’t think my brooding companion takes kindly to anything impeding his work, especially a pesky piece of equipment. “The circuits and connectors are in perfect condition, not charred or corroded. So, it must be a programming issue.” Replacing the back of the tricorder, I widen a few scan parameters and disable a couple more, then hand it back to McCoy. “Here, try this.”

After restarting the scan, the familiar steady beeps resume.  

“Well how ‘bout that.” McCoy says, with quiet astonishment. “How’d you know to do that?”

Swinging my legs like a schoolgirl, “Engineers are more than contraband and a good time, Dr. McCoy.”  I say, with cock my head and a cheeky grin. “Or haven’t you heard?”

“I’ve heard a lot of things but that don’t make’em true.”

Leaning the tiniest bit forward, “Is that a challenge?”  

McCoy meets my eye with a sumptuous quirk of his brow. “Only if you can deliver.”

A smile slowly spreads across my face. His steady gaze is electric, sending waves of heat to tickle my skin. Neither of us is backing down. With each passing millisecond something becomes abundantly clear; I am in trouble. Jim clears his throat, breaking us of the spell neither of us intended to cast. Honestly, I forgot Jim was even here.

Leaning back, I straighten my spine and clasp my hands in my lap. Professional as always. “So, did your scan turn up anything interesting?”

“Yea. Are you always this hot?” McCoy asks innocently, without any trace of innuendo.  

This is just too easy.  

Before I can reply, McCoy corrects himself.  “Is your temperature always this high?”

He’s learning  

“Yes. My temperature is usually above average for most humans. 99.3 to 102.4 is normal for me.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

Smiling, “I thought doctors liked specificity.”  

I expected to hear a smart quip but it never comes. McCoy’s face has grown dark.

“There’s also a fair bit of pressure at your temples and occipital lobe.”

Jim stiffens, instantly on alert. A nervous stab blooms in my stomach. I just got here. I can’t be grounded already. McCoy places a calming hand on my shoulder but addresses Jim. Silently they spar, only using their expressive eyes to communicate. I can read Jim like a well-trained empath but McCoy is a completely different beast. The altercation only lasts a few seconds but the decision is final.  

Jim sighs and stuffs his hands roughly in his pockets. “I’ll be right over there, ok?” After nodding, he saunters up to nurse and starts a friendly conversation. Jim manages to only look back once, our concerned expressions mirroring each other.  

“If only he was as protective with himself as the rest of us.” McCoy says.

Smiling weakly, I hum in agreement. With an ever-increasing nervous energy, I pick at the jagged edge of my thumb nail. I’m willing the pressure in my head to subside before McCoy takes the tricorder to me again.  

As if I'm a doe in a wooden glen that’s easily spooked, McCoy speaks much softer than before. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is the pain?”

I rub my forehead. “5, maybe.” Even to my own ears, it sounds more like a question than an answer.  

McCoy stares at me disapprovingly. Maybe I don’t have as good a poker face as I thought. He asks how long I've been having headaches and if they make my duties more difficult. I have to think back but it's been over 6 months. I can handle the pain but the dizziness that sometimes accompany them is harder to shake off. I've been found in a dark supply closet more times than I care to count. McCoy bobs his head with each detail I recount, though his lips remain pursed. He picks up the tricorder once again but decides to hand it off to a passing nurse.  

“Do hypos help with the pain?” McCoy asks. Vigorously rubbing his hands together, he steps forward. Meticulously, he feels around my throat and neck.  

“Only for a few hours.” I answer honestly.  

“What did your last physician say about them?”

“Since I could still fulfill my duties, not to worry until that changed.”

McCoy’s hands still. Exhaling harshly, his nostrils flare. “What kinda bonehead, idiotic...” With a sigh, McCoy calms himself. Letting the matter drop, he continues his exam. McCoy softly eases my head to the side to rest in his large palm. His nimble fingers purposefully flutter up and down the tendons in my neck, even into my shoulder blade. When he tilts my head back, I can’t help but stare. McCoy is so, determined. It’s as if my pain and discomfort are the only thing important to him. For a moment he closes his eyes to concentrate more intently on what he feels beneath his fingers. Smiling to myself, I close my own eyes before I’m caught.  

A slight sting radiates at the base of my neck where McCoy was focusing his attention.  His deft fingers and what I suspect was a sly hypo start to alleviate the pressure that’s been building for hours. Releasing a heavenly sigh of relief, I slowly blink open my eyes. Having them closed for only a few short moments; my lids have become quite heavy.  

McCoy tips my head back with a knuckle under my chin. When my eyes catch the light, he inhales suddenly. “Well I’ll be-.” He whispers, astonished. He slowly moves forward as if an invisible string is pulling us together. I’m enveloped by his impressive stature. His warmth seems to seep into my every pore and somehow, I already know I’ll miss it when he moves away. A sly smirk creeps onto my lips when McCoy’s eyes round in amazement. Imaging myself through his eyes is intriguing. Warm brown eyes of amber with flecks of maroon. It’s a fairly typical combination in this day and age, except they weren’t always like this. The longer the light shines in my eyes, the red specs bend and shift until it nearly overtakes the brown. I found the change to be off-putting at first but I've grown to like it.

McCoy leans in closer and cocks his head to the side. “Retinal morphic photoplasia.” Taking a pen light out his pocket and sweeps it over my eyes. “With a nearly a 47% increase in your concentering rate. That’s mighty rare.”

I shrug nonchalantly.  “Yea. It’s just one of my many tricks.”

McCoy smirks until he realizes how close he is to me. His hand has inched up from my neck and is cradling my cheek in his palm.  Clearing his throat, he gently guides my head down and releases me. Dr. McCoy returns to his PADD, tapping harshly. His faced is etched in frustration as he mumbles to himself. I sigh inwardly. I miss the teasing back and forth, the banter. I’d even settle for Mr. Grumpy Pants.  

I speak as light and airy as possible. “So, am I dying Doc?”

“No!” McCoy says, jerking upright. “Why would you go and say somethin’ like that?”

“Because you're looking at my readings like I have the plague.”

“Now that would be a magic trick, since it's been cured for over 600 years.” Sighing, McCoy places the PADD down. “I’m just not too keen on mysteries in my Medbay.”

McCoy explains my scans are in normal ranges, though a little odd. The headaches could be stress related but he’s concerned about the duration. Since I can't think of any triggers and I couldn’t have come into contact with any alien contagions, McCoy decides to take a few samples and run some more extensive test.  After getting a nurse up to speed, McCoy gives me some very pointed instruction.  “Tell me immediately if the headaches get worse. It doesn’t matter if you can still do your duties.”

“Sure thing, Dr. McCoy.” His name rolls easily off my tongue. However, McCoy’s pinched expression looks like his mama forgot to sweeten his lemonade. “Did I say something wrong?”  

He shakes his head ‘no’ but doesn’t offer any further explanation for his sour expression. I’m starting to think maybe that’s just his face.  

Shaking it off, “So, am I good to go?”

“Yes ma’am. No palpations, fever, or hives to speak of.” McCoy drawls.  

Smiling, “Great!  Thanks Doc. I'll try to keep it that way.” Hopping off the bio-bed, I look around the Medbay.  “Now where did my escort get to?”

“Jim,” McCoy says, hollering over his shoulder. “Don’t you have a ship to run?”

Jim says a few last words to an utterly bewitched nurse and walks away. He leisurely walks over, smiling to himself. “So, what I miss?”  

“I don’t know. Home trainin’?” McCoy says, dismissively. I snort softly into my hand and McCoy rewards me with a small smile. But Jim’s piercing gaze is squarely on McCoy, waiting for my results.

McCoy answers simply, all joking aside. “The commander is cleared for duty-”

“Glad to hear it!” Jim says. His jovial-self returning.

“And she knows where to find me if that changes.” McCoy gives me another pointed look for good measure.  

Inwardly I chuckle to myself but stand straight at attention. I give the doctor an emphatic though comical two-finger salute. I know we haven’t had an active military in centuries and technically McCoy and I have equal rank. But he understands me nonetheless. Or I should say we understand each other. If my condition changes and I don’t tell him, he will hunt me down and there will be hell to pay. McCoy nods curtly, satisfied with my answer. After a beat, his eyes soften and the corner of his mouth lifts just a touch. Relaxing again, I smile in return.  

Jim sees our mostly silent exchange and shakes his head. He looks like the cat that caught the canary and I’m not sure I like where this is headed. “You know I always thought you two would get along.” Jim may be right but that doesn’t mean he has to point it out. “You never let me have any fun.” Oh, how I wish that was true. “Both of you can drink me under the table.” True. Jim pauses for good measure. “And you both hate people.”

And there it is.  

Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose.  

“For Christ's sake-” McCoy growls.  

“I do not hate people!" We say in perfect unison.  

Slowly, McCoy and I look at each other with the same horrified expression. Brows in our hairlines, eyes bugging out and mouth agape.  We even mirrored each other’s tilted head. Neither of us know how to address what just happened, so we quickly act like it didn’t. McCoy becomes intensely interested in his PADD and I kick myself at falling for Jim’s bait so easily. His smirk is already insufferable but I do address his previous assertion.  

“After an 8-hour shift, who wants to be around people that can't hold a conversation, let alone a drink?” I ask rhetorically.  

“Couldn’t agree more darlin'.” McCoy says, clearly on my side.  

Trying to bite the inside of my cheek does little to disguise my smile. “Thank you.” I’m not sure what garners my appreciation more, his immediate understanding or being called darlin'. I haven't been called that particular term of endearment since I was a child. Oddly, I’m not averse to it. Especially coming from the doctor’s lips.  

“Wait,” Jim interjects, “are you finally admitting there are people you don’t like Commander?”

“Yes, and you are quickly becoming one of them Captain.”

This is quickly ramping up into a tit for tat situation and McCoy is having none of it. “Jim, can you let my patient get a hot meal before you start up again?”

Snickering, I mouth ‘Thank you’ and head for the door. As the doors slide open, I stop and look behind me. Jim is slowly walking with his back towards the door, whispering something to McCoy. I don’t know what he’s saying but McCoy crossed his arms in a huff. “Jim, you coming?” Jim turns smoothly on his heel, not missing a beat. The moment Jim’s back is to McCoy something peculiar happens. His arms drop and he … chuckles. His broad shoulders gently shake until he sighs to himself. For a moment he stares into space. The makings of a smile start to form-

“Danny, you coming?”

Jumping slightly, I turn towards Jim’s voice. He’s mere inches from my ear. After scowling in his general direction, I try to get one more glance at McCoy but he’s already gone. We walk in companionable silence toward my quarters but Jim is determined to spoil it. He keeps smirking like he has a secret every time he catches my eye. Its driving me nuts.  

Exhaling slowly, I mourn my sanity. “I know you have something to say. Spit it out.”

Jim shrugs nonchalantly but smiles nonetheless. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just that you owe me a bottle of whiskey.”

[shelby-love]

KELLY SEVERIDE

Chicago's IT Lawyer And Girlfriend

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warnings: none

Authors note: /

"I hate this." You whisper sleepily while fighting the urge to yawn. With your head against the window you scan the area in front of you.

So much press.

"I have to go there and give them a 5 minute long statement at 6 in the morning."

Kelly Severide doesn't fear the press and easily manoeuvres his car onto the free parking space, reserved for Chicago's finest law fighters only.

The muscled arms of your boyfriend easily turn off the car and wrap around you.

Bathing in your boyfriend's cologne is just the right thing you needed to be able to fight through the day.

"You got this. You're Y/N Y/LN." You snort at his words. They have a drop of mock in them but you know what he really means.

Ever since this case got out in the public, where you're representing an Interpol agent in a case gone wrong, you've been the news' favourite plaything.

Chicago's IT lawyer, they call you. Y/N Y/LN now holds serious weight. Luckily for you, you managed to snatch the heart of this hardworking lieutenant before you became so badass at fighting the law.

"I wish we can go eat after your shift is over," You admit. "But the press has been on my tail since this thing blew up."

Kelly isn't a stranger to the news outlets, he had his own share of being in the centre of their attention.

The kiss he gives you melts you in a puddle. It makes you weak in the knees like always and suddenly your stoney facade crashes and you become Y/N. Just Y/N.

"Crush them babe." Kelly encourages. "I'll be watching the news."

"Channel 9?"

"The firehouse watches you on Channel 6?" He tells you. Kelly just found out that his girlfriend is more in the spotlight then he ever thought possible for a hotshot lawyer.

"No, no, no... Channel  6 is rubbish. They make things up." You're quick to explain. "And what's even worse... They edit me to make it seem like I'm a heartless monster. I don't wanna be a heartless monster Kelly!"

"Okay... So channel 9 then?"

"Yes! That way when I meet your friends they don't think I'm heartless."

"You're not heartless baby." He says, his long fingers tucking a strand of stray hair behind your ear.

You check your watch and realise that it's time to go. "I'll see you after shift?"

"Of course. Break a leg Y/N!" He yells once you're out of the car.

"Don't say that Kelly you know I'm clumsy!"

***

The 24 hour long shift is killing him. He spends more time in the common room than at the squad table because that's where the TV is.

After a lot of attempts he finnaly managed to get Mouch to switch the news to channel 9. Just how you told him to.

"Andy Holland. Never liked the guy." Mouch comments on the news reporter.

"Yeah like Miranda is any better. She just spreads lies." Kelly shoots back. The two channels are reporting things very differently and he's looking out for you.

"But it's kind of true." Brian agrees with Kelly. "Channel 6 makes it seem like Y/N's a monster. Andy gives her some credit at least."

"Thank you!" Kelly yells out to him.

"And why do you care Severide?" Cruz joins the discussion. "Sure she's hot and smart but there's no way you can get into her pants. Not hers."

This sparked Kelly's interest. They have no idea. "Oh really?"

Joe let's out a "mhmm" before retreating to the comfort of his bed.

At that moment, Kelly's phone dings, indicating a new message.

From Y/N [4:55 P.M]

Hey you left your wallet at my place. Want me to drop it off?

I'm meeting the client and my team at 7 and I'll be gone until the morning.

Night shift suckssss!

A smile sneaks up on his face without him even noticing. He types a reply quickly, full-heartedly inviting you to the firehouse with the simple message.

***

Just 15 minutes after the small exchange, you're outside the firehouse leaning against your sleek womanly car. You patiently wait for Kelly with sunglasses over your eyes.

You notice him jogging towards you and soon you're in his arms. "I missed you."

"We saw each other this morning Y/N."

You give him an offended look once you take your sunglasses off. "Can't a girl miss her boyfriend?"

"Yeah," He leans in for a tortured kiss, showing you just how much he missed you too. "She can."

You pull away blushing and move to grab your bag. Finally, you fish out his wallet and hand it to him. "Well. Here you go."

"Do you wanna come in?"

"Who? Me?" You're not really dressed to impress. You wanted your first encounter with them be normal. Normal as in you will dress up like a normal woman your age and act like it.

But in the outfit that consisted of a black pencil skirt, white blouse, black blazer and pointy heels you were meant for formality and formality only.

"I want them to meet you." He admits. "I realised how hard it will be to not talk about you. Everyone thinks that I'm way out of your league."

"Oh so your plan is to get me to meet them so you can brag about sleeping with me." For a second that thought hurt your heart.

"No, no, no, no... I just want to be able to brag about how amazing you are as a person. And how much I love you." He leans in until you're inches apart. "I want them to know that we're serious about each other."

He stays quiet for a moment before whispering "And also... They're fans of you."

"Well in that case." You loop your arm through his. "Let's go meet them."

***

"Hey Severide! Come see what they're saying about your imaginary girlf-" Mouch' words die right on his tounge when he sees who's on Kelly's arm. "Girlf-f-friend. Y/N Y/LN is that you?!" He points between the TV and your living body aggressively with his glasses.

"In the flesh... Mouch?" You remember his name because of the detailed description your boyfriend gave you.

"She knows my name! Oh my Trudy is going to be so happy." He puts his glasses back on and starts to work his way around his cellphone, eventually succeeding and calling Trudy Platt. "Stay right there." He tells you and dissapears. You can still hear him even though he isn't in your line of vision.

"How much did he pay you to play his fake girlfriend?" A dark haired man with an impressive mustache comes up to you. Absolutely chirping with joy, almost as if he isn't surprised at all. Mustache.

"Oh! You're Brian right? Or Otis? I don't know which one you prefer." You tell him shyly, embarrassed for not knowing what to call him.

"You can call me whatever." He wraps his hands around yours and places a kiss to the back of it. It brings slight blush to your cheeks and he sees that as the day's biggest victory.

"Okay Otis that's enough." Kelly steps in.

"Y/N Y/LN. I've heard so much about you." An older man comes up to you with glitter in his eyes. He enthusiastically takes your hand and instead of pressing a kiss to it like Otis did, he shakes it with such honor that surprises you.

"He's a fan." Otis fake coughs.

"Of course I am. Y/N I've been watching the news ever since it became public." He slowly pulls you away from your boyfriend and sits you at the long table. "I gotta say. You're great! Calm, cool, collected... A little bit cold but that's alright. My wife Cindy, let me tell ya. She loves you. Emphasis on loves."

You're lulled into his conversation that not even Kelly can get you away from him. Once you're done you realised one simple thing about the older gentleman - he loves to talk.

"Oh my my." Another voice appears by the door. "Y/N?"

"Um...hi. I'm here with Kelly nice to meet-"

The man pulls you into a bone-crashing hug. "You're with Severide?!"

The surprise in his voice and the knowing look on your boyfriend's face caught you off guard. "Yeah? He's my boyfriend."

You easily connect the name to the face. Joe Curz in the flesh.

"Hey, hey what's going on in here?" Another voice joins you and you recognise it. Truck's lieutenant and alderman, Matt Casey, joins you in the common room and stops when he sees you.

"Alderman Casey." You greet your old friend.

"Y/N Y/LN. Haven't seen you in a while." He gives your hand a firm shake for formality sake before you both drop the facade and pull each other in for a hug.

"Wait you two know each other?" Your boyfriend asks in shock. He did not expect this.

"Yeah. Matt and I met at a few events." You explain. "A few glasses of burbon and we were pronounced as friends. Didn't I tell you that?"

A pitch of guilt shoots through your body at the untold information but when you see Kelly smile you immediately relax. "Sorry I didn't tell you. Guess I forgot."

"Don't worry. How long until you have to go?" He asks you before sneaking his arm around your waist.

You check your watch. "An hour."

"Good. Let's have some fun." Kelly kisses your forehead and you join the rest of the buzzing firefighters.

When you leave the firehouse to go to work, you not only leave with the weight off your shoulders but a lot of new friends.

MASTERLIST

[the-last-airblender]

Chapter 4: Run

He looks at you one more time, aims and fires.

Masterlist with the previous chapters

Word count: 5,6k

Notes: Din Djarin x reader

Warnings: angst, violence

Summary: You get prepared for your marriage to your much older cousin, but neither you nor Din are planning on letting it go through.

Moodboard for this chapter:

~

Your knees buckle and the firm grip on your arms is the only thing that keeps you upright as the guards escort you down the hall. Your father's words are still echoing in your head.

'I want to ask you not to get in our way this afternoon, Mando', he said. 'This is simply none of your business. Unfortunately, I will have to take certain measures to ensure that all of this runs smoothly. Too much is at stake here. Our cities will benefit enormously from this union, as our alliance will be stronger than ever. Plus, a big wedding party later this week is sure to make the people forget about the new tax law.'

'You can't force her to get married', Din tried to object.

Signas snorted. 'Oh, I sure can. And don't think you can stop this. It is happening.' He got as close to the Mandalorian as he dared. 'So keep quiet and you are free to leave tonight. If you don’t, I can’t guarantee the safety of that cute, green child you have with you.'

Din had flown forward in rage, but was stopped - with difficulty - by the guards, who basically had to hang from his arms with their full weight to do so. He wasn't quite sure what he planned to do when he reached the mayor, but he could still do a lot of damage with his hands cuffed. Signas knew this and had jumped back, but quickly recovered from the shock. He wiped imaginary dust from his sleeves.

'I knew he was valuable. Don't get me wrong, Mando', he said. 'I don't want to hurt that child-'

‘If you come anywhere near him, I'll tear your limbs off', Din growled, anger beaming off him as if it were sunlight. 

'Then don't give me a reason to', Signas said coldly. 'If you had just given me my daughter like we agreed, none of this would be necessary. You would've been a whole lot richer than the first time we met. So really, you're to blame if anything happens to him. '

This time the guards weren't able to restrain Din and he broke free from their grasp without warning, but they weren't complete idiots. He had barely taken two steps when the now familiar crackling sounded and his beskar loudly made contact with the ground. You grimaced in sympathy, the memory of the pain still fresh in your mind.

'Take him downstairs', Signas ordered irritably.

As they lifted him by his armpits and dragged him out of the room with much groaning, he turned to you. 

'The same goes for you, by the way. I'm sure you wouldn't want anyone else to get hurt because of you, let alone a little kid as big as your nephew. I suggest you keep that in mind today.'

You already know where the guards are taking you before you’ve even reached the door in question. A push makes you stumble into your bedroom, where you’re met by your stepmom Avlin and your aunt Taska, who watch in silence as your handcuffs are taken off. Your eyes dart across the room and are drawn to what lies on your bed: a long, red dress, richly decorated with gold thread, and a matching headscarf that won't be allowed to be taken off until the wedding night. In any other situation you would’ve loved the dress, but now it only adds to your anxiety.

The door closes behind you and you hear a guard cough. One shout and they'll come running back in, but for now they'll give the women the privacy they’d also get on a normal wedding day: it is tradition for the mother and mother-in-law of the bride to prepare her for the ceremony. Avlin is the closest thing you have to a mother, although your father has always forbidden you and Samick to call her that. He married her when you were very young and you love her to bits. You only wish you could say the same of him. 

Usually, this dressing ritual is an intimate, loving moment for the bride and her mother before she separates from her family and begins her own life with the groom. Today, however, it’ll be a lot more difficult.

You stay where you are, tense as a bowstring. You look at Avlin with wide eyes and the exhaustion and pain on her face seem to emphasize the wrinkles starting to form around her eyes and mouth. Her black hair falls on her shoulders and she fiddles with a loose thread from her long, yellow dress, clearly chosen for this occasion. She had disagreed with the whole situation, but you know she was too scared to argue with him. A part of you hates her for it, but then again, you're not much better. No one dares to rebel against him, because everyone knows what happens when someone attempts to do so. You quickly push the memories of those moments back into the most secluded part of the archive of your brain before they can reappear completely.

'Honey ...', she begins with a sigh.

Then, you can no longer stand it and you fly into her arms.

~

Red eyes stare at you in the mirror on your desk. Avlin is braiding your hair and your aunt is sitting next to you, frowning with concentration and decorating your arm with a tube of gold paint. Via the mirror you look at your other arm, which is already covered in curly patterns and countless flowers. You used to dream for hours about your big day, how you’d look so beautiful that all the guys in town would regret ignoring you. How you’d walk to the priest, where the love of your life would be waiting for you in the most beautiful of robes. How he’d shed a tear at the sight of your beauty and your broad smile. How it’d be the happiest day of your life.

You clench your fists to keep the anger off your face and get rewarded with a slap on your shoulder from your aunt.

'Don't move', she orders irritably.

Taska is your father's sister and like the rest of that branch of the family, she is very conservative -which in this case means she has absolutely no problem with this marriage. In fact, she is head of the city guard and will soon also oversee Chavez's city guard. She's therefore dressed in her ceremonial white guard uniform, with her shiny badge proudly pinned up and her blasters on her belt, instead of a festive dress like Avlin. You don't doubt she was furious when she heard about your escape and nearly had to say her promotion -and the considerable raise- goodbye. The fact that the situation now seems to be under control is probably the only reason she’s decorating your arm instead of chopping it off. 

Unbelievable how your relationship changed so quickly; she's the one who had been training you and your brother since you were kids. You owe your fighting skills to her and now she happily contributes to this nightmare, ignoring your opinion and dismissing your strength.

You force yourself to take a deep breath and look at yourself in the mirror again. You have no tears left to cry and instead, anger is brewing deep inside you. Your fighting spirit is back in business. Still, you’ve got to be patient and approach this smartly. Cooperate for now and strike when everyone has dropped their guard. Now that the guards have electroblasters - undoubtedly courtesy of your cousin, who’s involved in the weapons industry - you won't underestimate them a second time. That feeling is most likely mutual, considering what you’ve done. Plus, your aunt is a problem in itself: even if you manage to get your hands on your weapons, you're not so sure you could beat her in combat. Maybe if you could get a hold on one of those electroblasters…

Avlin twists your braids into a bun and secures it with hairpins from the tray on your desk. Then she takes the red headscarf from your bed and starts wrapping it deftly around your head so that any hair disappears underneath. Your long, gold earrings rattle with every move. Once she has pinned the scarf in place, she puts her hands on your shoulders and squeezes them encouragingly. Before you can stop yourself, you've put your hand on hers. As much as you hate that Avlin’s allowing all of this, you know it's not her fault. Leaving her behind is gonna hurt like hell.

'You look regal', she whispers.

Despite everything, you cannot suppress a small smile. However, it disappears right away when your aunt approvingly adds: 'Chavez will not be able to resist you.'

Your chest tightens at the thought of your cousin's greedy gaze, which has followed you since long before this marriage was proposed.

'I'm glad that Mandalorian took you back', she continues without looking up and you don't feel like correcting her, fearing that you'll explode doing so. 'What a ridiculous situation that was! You clearly fail to see how this marriage will profit you as well. The life of a mayor's wife really isn't the end of the world. Think about it: wealth, status, servants... You can buy all the clothes you want and you won't even have to work for it!'

You grit your teeth and ignore her.

'Really, your father is doing you a favor. So put a smile on that pretty face of yours when we go downstairs, would you?' She puts the cap on the tube of body paint and proudly admires her work.

'Beautifully done, Taska', Avlin says diplomatically, before the sales pitch can continue. 'Hey, didn't you have something for her?'

Thanks to your familiarity with the Duuganese tradition you already know what she means.

'Oh yes, that's right', your aunt sighs, getting up and looking around. 'Where did I put that thing?'

'I believe I last saw it in the kitchen.'

Taska looks around one last time and then frowns as she walks towards the door. 'I could’ve sworn...'

As soon as she's gone, Avlin grabs something from under your bed and puts it in your hands. You observe the object, which has been wrapped in a piece of fabric.

'What is this?', you ask.

'We have to hurry', she whispers. ‘Open it.'

You unfold the package and see that it is a metal bracelet. You weigh it in your hands and notice it’s surprisingly light, although one side appears to be heavier. It’s about ten centimeters wide and subtly decorated with a floral pattern.

'It had to match your wedding attire, otherwise people would get suspicious', she explains. 'I had it made for you as soon as I heard about the wedding. Quick, put it on.'

You slide it around your right wrist and look at it from different angles. Only then do you see a small opening on the inside of your wrist.

'Now do this', she says, extending her wrist so the back of her hand moves toward her body. 'But be careful.'

Your brow furrows and you copy her movement. Suddenly, a small, flat blade shoots out from the opening and you nearly yelp, but swallow it just in time as you nervously glance at the door. As soon as you bend your wrist back, the blade shoots back inside the bracelet. Your confusion immediately turns into fascination and you try it a few more times. The blade is about eight centimeters long, razor sharp and sturdy, and invisible when retracted into the bracelet. With a wide grin you let it pop in and out a couple more times and notice that it makes virtually no noise. It’s a fine piece of craftsmanship.

'Pressing this disables the mechanism.' Avlin points to a small flower that, upon closer inspection, indeed looks like a button. 'You don't want to accidentally cut yourself or others.'

You throw your arms around her neck.

'Thanks, mom', you say into her long, black curls, now feeling even more rebellious.

She presses a kiss on your cheek and then pulls away to give you a serious look. 'I know I should have done more, that I should have put a stop to all this. I just...'

You shake your head. 'I know. This isn't on you. '

Her hand squeezes yours.

'Use this wisely', she warns. 'Wait for the right moment.'

You nod and lower your eyes.

'You know I have to leave, right?', you mutter.

A warm hand lifts your chin and forces you to look at your stepmother. She smiles sadly.

'I know', she whispers.

The door opens and your aunt enters with another bundle of cloth in her hand. You get up, feeling safe and self-assured now you have a weapon on you again, and turn around for the final part of the ceremony. Your aunt's fingers deftly attach something to the back of your headscarf and the next moment a thin gold filter falls over your world and the scent of attic and memories reaches your nose. It’s your aunt's bridal veil, as tradition dictates, and you have to admit it is beautiful as well. The edges are decorated with swirling, gold embroidery and the fabric is so light that you hardly notice you're wearing it. Thankfully, you can easily see through it, because it will stay on till just before the 'I do'. Then Chavez will lift it up. You swallow and turn to your aunt and Avlin. The latter looks at you with tears glittering in her eyes.

Before she can say anything, however, your aunt claps her hands excitedly. 'Time to go!'

~

'This isn’t fair', the female guard moans at the ceiling. 'Just as something interesting is about to go down, I have to babysit in the wine cellar.'

'Tell me about it', her colleague grumbles. 'I would’ve liked to see that bitch's face. She deserves everything that’s coming for her considering what she's done.'

Din only half listens to their complaints. His back is leaning against a large wine barrel and his hands rest on his bent knees. Every muscle in his body whines and his left arm still twitches every now and then. Being shocked twice in a short amount of time has left him in a horrible mood and now that he's back in control of his limbs, he's more than ready to end this shitshow.

Crappy, fluorescent lights cast a cold light into the sizable cellar, which is filled with at least a dozen large wine barrels in untidy rows. Cobwebs hang from the ceiling and it’s clear that nobody has bothered to clean in here for a long time, as people with dust allergies would surely drop dead upon entering. A couple of wooden crates with Maker-knows-what in them are stacked against the wall across Din. He suspects that his weapons have been put in one of those crates, because a few meters to his right the child looks at him with concern from his pod. How relieved Din had been to see him safe and sound. Oh, they’re all gonna pay for even threatening to hurt him.

'I would have preferred to chop her head off myself', the guard agrees. 'This is as close to a real punishment as we're gonna get, I guess. She's gonna spend the rest of her life wishing she never came back here.'

'That little brat should be in jail at the very least! She killed three of us and Signas is acting like she didn't eat her vegetables at dinner!'

Din takes a deep breath. Party time.

'They had it coming.'

The guards whip their heads around and the woman immediately explodes.

'What did you just say?!', she yells.

Her colleague tries to grab her arm, telling her that he isn't worth it, but she shakes him off, her furious gaze locked on their prisoner. Din's willing to bet she was close with the guards that were killed. He moves his hands to the right of his knees, pulling his feet further towards him, as if to hide a bit from her. The tension in the room is almost tangible. Good. Angry people make mistakes.

'They shouldn't have gotten in her way', Din shrugs. 'Have you seen those knives of hers? They brought it upon themselves.'

That's all it takes. She storms over to him, cursing and shouting and so caught up in her tirade that she has no time to react when Din suddenly moves. He draws the vibroblade from his boot, jumps to his feet and catches the woman in his arms, the blade against her throat. Immediately, the swearing dies away and she's wise enough not to move.

'Anna!' The other guard has drawn his blaster and is aiming it at Din, but he doesn't shoot. His colleague serves as a living shield and the Mandalorian wisely moves them between the guard and the child.

'Put the blaster down', he barks.

'Put the knife down', the guard counters.

'You want another one of your colleagues to die?'

He hesitates for a second, his face crumpled in anger, but then decides against creating another vacancy and drops his blaster on the ground.

'Where are my weapons?', Din demands.

'Don't tell him, Val!', Anna yells.

Val keeps silent and glares at him.

'I won't ask again', Din snarls, pressing the blade against her throat.

The guard reluctantly points to one of the crates. 'That one.'

'Open it.'

He walks over to it and opens the lid. Din drags his hostage along with him and glances into the crate. Relieved, he sees that his blasters, bullets and gauntlets are all accounted for.

Suddenly, a heel harshly meets his crotch, making him grunt in pain, and simultaneously Anna pushes his hands away from her throat, quickly diving away from his grip. Normally this could never have happened, but with his hands still handcuffed he is a lot less mobile. Enraged, she kicks him in the stomach, causing him to stumble backwards against the wall near the crate.

She really shouldn't have done that.

Both guards grab their blasters and keep them aimed at him.

'Bastard!', Anna spits, rubbing her throat. 'I'll get you for that!'

Din stares at them, panting but well aware of the fact that he's now standing right next to his weapons.

'I'll kill that little gremlin of yours, I swear', she continues furiously. 'I'll skin him alive!'

'Speaking of that little gremlin,' Val says slowly, 'what's it doing?'

All three of them look over at the child, who has his eyes closed and his hand raised in their direction. A small smile appears on Din's face under the helmet.

The next moment, his handcuffs click open.

~

With every step you take towards the palm tree filled courtyard, your heart beats faster. A Duuganese priest waits by the beautifully overgrown gazebo, dressed in black robes and holding a ceremonial staff. Once the 'I do'’s have been exchanged, he will hit the ground with it and loudly announce that the marriage has been approved by the gods. Chavez, richly dressed in bright blue and golden robes that lightly flutter in the wind, awaits her next to the priest. His long, black hair is tied into a bun on the back of his head and a big scimitar hangs from his belt - just for show. You know he can't actually wield it. His brown eyes are fixed on you and a shiver creeps down your spine.

‘You'll be okay’, you quietly tell yourself. ‘I won't let anything happen to you.’

Words Samick said to you years ago when he first taught you how to drive a speeder. Now he waits by the small artificial pond a few feet from the gazebo, his arms folded. The inner conflict is visible on his face and for a moment you wonder if he also remembers his words. When he averts his gaze, you’re sure.

Your stepmother, your aunt and you stop right in front of the priest. The two women bow to him and step aside. On the other side of the priest is your father with a smug expression on his face and to your left and right guards are watching your every move. A gentle breeze rustles the trees.

Chavez reaches out to you with a grin. 'Let's do this.'

Wait for the right moment. With a sweet smile you take his hand and he pulls you closer, as if he can hardly wait to do Maker-knows-what to you. The priest hits the ground with his staff and begins his story. You hardly hear it as you scan your surroundings as inconspicuously as possible and wonder how you’re going to tackle this. In any case, waiting for the 'I do' would be a bad idea, because that’s when all eyes will be on you and as soon as you say yes, you’ll be married in the eyes of the gods and the law and you want to prevent that at all costs. The thought of Chavez having any kind of power or claim over you makes your stomach turn. You need a diversion.

It's as if the gods heard you. Out of nowhere, shots echo through the courtyard and two guards fall to the ground. Avlin screams, your brother and your father look around in alarm, searching for the source of the blasterfire, and Chavez protectively pulls you to his chest. You immediately tear yourself loose from his grip. Your aunt is the first to spot the Mandalorian and starts firing in his direction.

How he slipped into the courtyard with all that beskar on is a mystery to you, but the fact that he’s here at all makes your heart leap with joy and relief. You rip your veil off and fly to one of the fallen guards to grab his blaster, while the shots continue without interruption. The other two guards, like the rest of your family, managed to hide behind trees and they fire at a  certain point behind the gazebo, where Din pops out of the thick vegetation for a second and continues to make things real difficult for them. You don't bother hiding, knowing that you stand out in your red dress and that Din won't shoot you anyway. Just as you’re about to start firing at the two guards, you hear running footsteps behind you and when you whirl around, you see even more guards coming: not just your father's, but also your uncle's. You’re outnumbered. 

You start firing at the hallway nonetheless and several hit the floor, but more keep coming. You duck behind a tree after all, splinters flying around. A look over your shoulder tells you that the other two guards have lost the fight and the fight now appears to be between Din and your aunt, who seem to be quite well matched and fire at each other from the cover of the dense vegetation.

You keep shooting at the entrance from behind your tree, but there’s just too many opponents and the first manage to reach the courtyard and seek shelter in the vegetation. A well-aimed shot makes you dive away and as you press your back against your tree, your gaze crosses that of Samick, crouched helplessly behind a bush. He looks from you to the guards and then to the fallen guard right in front of him. Then his hand moves to his blaster and your heart sinks in your shoes.

‘Please,’ you quietly beg the gods, ‘don’t make me fight my brother.’

He picks up the gun and gets to his feet.

'Samick!', you beg over the sound of the blasters going off all around you. 'Please!'

He looks at you one more time, aims and fires.

You dive sideways, but then you hear a heavy thud and a now familiar crackling close behind you. He runs over to you and joins your spot behind the tree. You exchange tiny smiles and that’s all you need. As if on command, you both jump up and open fire.

~

Damn, where’s that woman?

Din looks around with narrowed eyes, but the vegetation is too dense and your aunt is nowhere to be seen. She should be somewhere on the floor right in front of him, since that’s where he'd heard the scream, but he can’t see her and all his instincts tell him to be on guard. His helmet shows the many footsteps in the garden, but both of them have run back and forth quite a bit and it is difficult to see what her most recent footsteps are. Then he sees footsteps leading to the edge of the courtyard and when he realizes that they are circling around him, it’s already too late.

'Drop it', says a voice behind him.

Gritting his teeth, he puts down his blaster and stands up, turning towards your aunt.

She smiles triumphantly. 'I can be sneaky too. Now walk.'

She gestures with one of her blasters and he starts walking ahead of her towards the gazebo and the clearing where he'd just seen you during the ceremony, all red and gold. He couldn't resist admiring you from the bushes where he hid. You were by far the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

As he reaches the gazebo, he is surprised to see at least a dozen additional guards, lying motionless on the ground or still jerking from a electroblaster hit. You’re standing next to your brother, who seems to have taken your side, as you both keep your blasters pointed at Signas and the priest. With your headscarf slightly undone, dirt on your face and a blaster in each hand, you look even more beautiful than before. Avlin stands to the side, fear in her eyes as she seems torn between her children and her husband. There's no sign of the groom.

'Put down those weapons!', Din hears Signas angrily say. 'Stop this madness!'

Neither of you move and everyone turns their eyes towards him and your aunt as they step into the clearing. Your eyes widen in surprise and concern.

'Drop the blaster, aunt Taska', you say in a steady voice, your blaster now pointing at where she’s using Din as a human shield.

She snorts. 'You put that blaster away, child. You're not gonna kill your own aunt, now, are you?'

You cock your head. 'You're right. I'm not.' And without blinking, you fire.

It's a direct hit. She drops on the ground like a bag of flour and starts shaking as the electricity violently takes over control of her muscles. Din looks at her and then at you. That shot was impeccable: he'd felt it go right past his hip, to where Taska apparently wasn't entirely shielded by his body. An unstable and incredibly tiny target, but you hit it without hesitating, not worried in the slightest about accidentally hitting him and it is clear why.

Then, he turns to Signas and the priest and drily announces: 'I object to this wedding.'

Despite everything, you grin and throw him one of your blasters, which he easily catches. Then he grabs Signas by his robes and pushes him towards you. 'What do you want to do with him?'

You hesitate, your blaster still pointed at your father, not sure what to answer. What to do with the most influential man in town? The man who made your life so miserable?

'I don't know', you whisper.

Signas bursts out laughing and you cringe.

'Go ahead', he grins scornfully. 'Shoot me. Kill me! You wouldn't dare.'

You grip the blaster firmly, but you both know he's right. Din looks from you to your father, waiting for your response.

Then Signas suddenly grabs your wrist, snatches the blaster from your hand and grabs your throat so tightly that stars appear before your eyes. In a reflex you try to push him away, gasping for breath like a goldfish on dry land, but in the process you extend your wrist and the knife shoots out of your bracelet.

And digs into your father's abdomen.

Much later you still won’t be able to say with certainty whether you meant to do that. Signas's expression changes from furious to bewildered and he looks down with a frown as he is pulled away by your brother and Din, who rushed over to you, and the pressure on your throat disappears. You gasp for breath, even though the whole thing lasted only a few seconds. The two men lower the now wailing Signas to the ground, knowing he won't be a threat anymore. With wide eyes you stare at the knife on your wrist, blood dripping off the blade.

‘Are you okay?’, Samick asks, his eyebrows raised in worry.

'I didn't ... I ...', you stammer as he puts his arms around you.

'I know.’

You make sure to retract the knife before embracing him tightly and you bury your face in his neck.

'I'm so sorry', Samick whispers. 'For everything. I should have helped you sooner, I was a coward. Please forgive me. '

You let go, tears streaming down your cheeks, and smile. 'Of course.' Hesitantly, you turn to Avlin. 'I'm sorry-'

She shakes her head and there's no grief or anger on her face when she walks over to you and takes your hands.

'Don't be', she sighs. 'I won't miss him in the slightest.'

Suddenly, you hear a voice in the distance.

'City guard!', someone shouts. 'Everything alright, mister mayor?'

The color drains from your face as you look towards the entrance and start to panic. Not all the guards are dead and when they come to, they will certainly make sure to tell everyone what went down here. You're screwed.

Avlin, though, keeps her head cool and quickly hugs you before grabbing your shoulders and looking you straight in the eye.

'Go, quickly', she commands softly. 'Take the speeders. We'll hold them off - I'll make something up.' You start to protest, but she interrupts you. 'Don't worry about us. We'll be fine, we'll leave as soon as we get the chance.' She sternly ushers you towards the other door. 'Run! Oh, and check the second drawer in your father's desk!'

'I love you', you tell her and Samick before you and Din hastily make your way towards the exit. Your brother walks over to the entrance, where the first city guards appear just as you enter the hallway. You blink away your tears and take a left turn, the Mandalorian right behind you. The hall runs around the courtyard and you wait until all the city guards are in there before you quickly walk towards the main entrance. Then you pass your father's office and after a short hesitation you duck inside.

'There's no time!', Din hisses, having heard what Avlin said.

You ignore him and run to the desk, pulling open the second drawer. On top of a pile of papers is a red, velvet bag of credits. It's your dowry, you realize. You grab it and grin. You’ll make good use of this.

As you walk down the hall, Din pushes a button on his gauntlet and soon the pod with the child comes floating down the hall. He coos at the sight of the Mandalorian.

'I'm happy to see you too, kid', the Mandalorian says in a hushed voice. 'But we have to get out of here.'

A press on another button closes the pod's panels as you walk into the entrance hall, where you nearly trip over your bag. Apparently it had been thrown there carelessly and you sling it over your shoulder as you pass it. The guard who had taken it from you had also taken your daggers and blaster and put them in the bag, you notice after a quick glance at the contents. Nice.

You run out the door and luckily no city guards remain outside.

'This way!', you shout, turning right to where the speeder bikes are.

Din quickly attaches the pod to one of the speeders while you hop on another and start the engine. A few seconds later, you both race off.

~

Weyfel meets you at the workshop. He spreads his arms in an apologetic gesture.

'Sorry guys, I'm afraid the mayor doesn't like me very much', he says, laughing awkwardly. 'I'll lose my business for sure if I get in his way.'

Din ignores him and keeps walking towards the Razor Crest, which, thankfully, now looks fully finished. The pod hovers after him.

You, however, glare at the mechanic, snarling: 'Thanks a lot.'

He looks after you as you stomp away, no doubt confused by your outfit. You don’t care.

At the base of the boarding ramp, you stop and look up at Din, who’s almost inside. He hears your footsteps stop and looks back. You rub your neck hesitantly. He might have said you could hitch a ride to Nevarro, but who knows, he might have changed his mind. You certainly wouldn't blame him after today's events. He got shocked twice thanks to you.

Din follows your thought process and for a second, he asks himself the same question he did last night. The second after, though, he knows the answer.

‘Come on’, he says, turning around and disappearing into the ship's hull.

A smile splits your face in two and you can only just stop yourself from skipping up the ramp. Something tells you that your life is about to get a whole lot better than before.

~

Tag list: @buckysalefty @dark-academics-and-florals

[teacherunicorn]

A/N: I really see OneRepublic's 'All This Time' as Five & Delores' song. I feel like it has the right vibes to it. Am I wrong?

@tomisbaeholland @universsdaughter

Delores Theadoisa Hargreeves

Chapter Sixteen

The Hargreeves kitchen was silent as five of the occupants stared at the one other, who just went about making his sandwich.

"What's the date? The exact date."

"The 24th." Vanya offered uneasily.

"Of?!"

"March...."

Number Five paused and seemed to think for half a second. "Good."

"Are we gonna talk about what just happened?" Luther put forward, only to be ignored. He stood in Five's way and said in his 'I'm Number One' voice: "It's been seventeen years."

"It's been a lot longer than that." Five snapped and with a flash teleported behind him.

"I haven't missed that...." Luther sighed.

"So where'd you go?" Diego questioned.

"The future." Five blinked between the cabinet and the table. "It's shit by the way."

"Called it!" Klaus piped up.

The next thing out of Five's mouth made everyone else stare at him like he had three heads: "I should have listened to the old man. You know, jumping through space is one thing, but jumping through time, is just a roll of the dice." He looked up from spreading peanut butter on his sandwich. "Nice dress."

Klaus lit up. "Oh, well danke!"

"Wait how did you get back?" Vanya asked in confusion.

"In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time."

Beat.

"That makes no sense." Diego looked at him with a furrowed brow.

Five didn't even look up. "Well, it would if you were smarter."

Number Two jumped up to attack, but Luther was quick to hold him back. "How long were you gone?"

"Forty five years." Five shrugged, closing the peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich. "Give or take."

"So what are you saying? That you're fifty-eight?"

"No, my consciousness is fifty-eight." Five corrected with a glare. "Apparently my body is now thirteen again."

"Wait how does that even work?" Vanya asked.

"Delores kept saying the equations were off." Five took a bite of his sandwich and shrugged. "Eh, bet she's laughing now."

"Delores?" Alison frowned. "Our Delores?"

Five turned to face them and seemed to notice for the first time that the caretaker was not among the group. "Where is she?"

"She was working in Germany when she got the news." Diego informed. "Pogo said she was flying in."

"Oh, she called; her connection got delayed. She won't be in for another few hours." Klaus commented idly.

"What?!"

"You didn't think to mention this earlier Klaus?!" Alison demanded.

"Well I'm sorry, when between Luther accusing us of murder and Five jumping through time was I supposed to relay a message?"

Everyone in the room collectively groaned. They all knew that they were doomed to insanity until Delores arrived to straighten things out.

"Well, nice to see that nothings changed." Five sighed, strolling past the group and out the door.

"Really? That's all you've got to say?" Alison called after him.

"What else is there to say?" He called back, taking another bite of his sandwich. "Circle of life!"

*******

Upon entering his old bedroom, the first thing Number Five did was open the door to his closet in search of something to replace the suit that had become far too big on him.

Flipping a few hangers to the side, it quickly became apparent that all the closet held were the Umbrella Academy uniforms he'd left behind. Cursing under his breath, he sighed and selected one off the rack at random.

Turning, Five paused when he noticed the large pile of packages occupying his bed. Wrapped in various colors of paper in various sizes, he noticed that the ones toward the bottom of the bunch seemed faded, as though they'd been there a while. A quick count showed that there were forty packages in total.

One for every birthday and Christmas he had missed.

"She waited." He smiled fondly. "Well, nice to see she didn't forget about me."

Leave it to Delores Theadoisa Hargreeves to go the extra mile for her kids. Had the situation been different, he may have been worried his caretaker would have planed a future without him in it; but this was Delores he was talking about. The single ray of sunshine that even the Apocalypse couldn't snuff out.

Seeing the small signs she'd left for him to find through the years he'd been gone had kept him going. A mark scratched into the stone of a building or sidewalk, small doodle in the corner of a historical paper that the Commission thought to be stray ink marks; it kept her voice with him.

It also made him all the more anxious to see her again in person.

******

*Several Hours Later*

Muttering to herself about about the fact that, for all his eccentricities, Reginald Hargreeves had never bothered to invest in a private plane, Delores unlocked the front door and pulled a large rolling suitcase in behind her.

Huffing, she propped it up on it's wheels and dropped her duffle bag on top of it. She turned to the empty entry hall and frowned.

"Come on! I know I can't have been the only one who came to make sure the old man was dead! Where is everyone?"

Her voice was still echoing down the halls when a familiar flash of blue blinked in the corner of her vision and Delores stumbled backwards when a weight was thrown against her and a pair of arms locked around her torso.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

The rest of the Umbrella Academy appeared in various doorways, but Delores failed to notice,her eyes locked on the person burying his face into chest.

She opened and closed her mouth serval times before hesitantly wrapping her arms around him.

Solid. Real.

"....Finny...?"

The only response she got was Five squeezing her tighter, as though she was the one that had been gone for nearly two decades and would disappear once more if he let go.

Blinking again, Delores looked up to see the faces of her other charges watching the pare of them. She skimmed over a quick headcount; Luther, Diego, Alison, Klaus, Vanya. All accounted for, and all the same age they had been when she'd seen them last.

In the doorway leading to the sitting room, she saw her mother and Pogo. Feeling more like a lost child than she had since she had properly been one, she looked to the pair that had raised her with a bewildered look.

"W-What did I miss?"

*******

Number Five was very much the type of person that hated having to repeat himself, but he gladly recounted the story he had told his siblings mere hours ago. Delores seemed to understsnd his explanation for his return better than the others had, but gave him a look when he mentioned the off equations that had put him into his thirteen year old body.

“Five what was the number one rule of all your lessons?”

“Don’t start fights with my siblings?”

“That was trainings.”

Five smirked. “Double check my math, then double check it again.”

“There you go.”

He chuckled. “I’ve missed you, E. Obviously....”

“The feeling’s mutual. Obviously.” Delores smiled at him. Finally turning to address her other charges, she did a quick head count to see who had actually shown up. When glancing over Number One, she blinked and did a double take. “What the hell Luther, you’re not supposed to be taller than me!”

“You didn’t know about this?” Diego raised an eyebrow.

“Spaceboy has been keeping radio silence for a while now.” Delores folded her arms.

“Oooo, somebody’s in trouble!” Klaus sang from his slouched position on the couch.

“Well while she’s already mad at you, why don’t you tell her about your theory of how dad died?”

“Diego—“ Luther tried to cut him off.

“An old man in his seventies had a heart attack.” Delores frowned. “While I admit that’s the most normal thing to happen in this house, what’s to theory?”

“Well- I- you see-“

“Luther.”

“He was anxious the last time he contacted me.” Luther tried to reason. “Told me to watch my back.”

“Sounds like the paranoia he instilled in all of us.”

“Maybe, but —“

He was cut off by the sound of the front door opening. Everyone frowned and looked towards the noise. They were all here, who the hell could that be?

“Oh little digits, I’m home!”

[spencers-dria]

Something From a Fairytale

Someone To Stay Ch. 15

Spencer x fem reader

Y/N POV:

It'a Friday and you are prepared for a normal evening in, curled up on the couch watching Harry Potter with Spencer. That is, until you received a text from him stating: "change of plans, I'm picking you up at 7. Formal attire highly encouraged ;)"

The blush on your face fades as quickly as it appears, as you brush it off as him being goofy rather than flirty. Why was he picking you up, though? And dressed for something formal? Was he taking time to dinner? Was this a date? The thoughts flood your brain so quickly you nearly go dizzy. You quickly shake your head, trying to clear it of the chaos like a etch-a-sketch. Okay. Deep breaths. You're certain you are overthinking things. If  you aren't careful, you will allow myself to be accidentally lead on. You and Spencer friends. Nothing had changed. Sure you have seen him a bit differently lately, but you didn't do anything about it. But admitting those things out loud to your friends, his friends, well that made it feel pretty real. Pretty one sided too. Ugh, you're such a mess. Get it together.

You finally pull yourself up off the couch realizing you want to have enough time to shower and fix your hair, and to properly do your makeup. Not to mention the time it would take to no doubt go through multiple outfits before finally settling on one. You had grown so comfortable around him, you usually didn't prepare much for your movie nights. But something about his request had a certain weight to it. You can't place your finger on it, but tonight felt important.

After showering, shaving, and drying your hair, you throw on a robe and walk into your closet, letting your fingers flip through the clothes. Too fancy, too casual, too edgy...none of it felt right until your eyes land on a dark purple, strapless dress with a sweetheart neckline and long flowing skirt that reaches the floor. You start to second guess, shooting a quick text to Spencer: "Sooo how formal are we talking?"

He takes only a few seconds to respond: "That can be up to you. But probably nothing you'd wear to a sports event."

You roll my eyes. Ha ha. Very funny. You decide this will have to do. Besides, he loves purple, and you can't help but wanting to impress him once again. He'd already seen one side of you that night of a bar. You are ready to show him you can look classy, when you wanted to. You have more than just sweat pants and cocktail dresses.

After giving your hair some loose curls, you put on some light, shimmering eye shadow with bold black eyeliner and a darker pink matte liquid lip. You get so distracted by fixing little details in your makeup or hair that you're caught off guard by the knock at the door. You immediately feel a pit sink into the deepest part of my stomach, pure nerves.

You take a deep breathe before opening the door to see Spencer standing there looking far too nervous considering how fantastic he looks. A well fitting black suit jacket, black button down, and black slacks. He's standing with a hand behind his back, nervously staring at the ground. He's eyes shoot up to you as soon as you've opened the door.

This isn't what you were expecting at all, but you're not complaining. You're also still unsure what this is, as you try to push aside any thoughts that jump to premature conclusions. After staring at each other in silence for a few seconds, you finally speak up.

"You look incredible, Spencer. I mean, really handsome, truly."

He shakes his head slightly like he doesn't quite believe you. He looks down at the ground as you can tell he's contemplating his next words carefully. He finally looks up at you with the sweet brown eyes you love so much. He's so quiet that you almost miss it. "You're breathtaking."

You feel your breath hitch in my throat. He's always been sweet but this was different. Before you have a chance to get in your head again, he brings his hand out from behind his back, to reveal a single rose. Naturally, it's purple, which is apparently our theme for the night. You chuckle before taking the lavender flower in your hand and bringing it up to your nose. You close your eyes and inhale the overwhelming fragrance. You can't tell what's sweeter, the aroma of the rose or the moment itself.

You slowly drag your eyes back up to meet his when he finally speaks. "Would you do me the honor of being my date for this evening?" He steps forward and offers me his arm with a smile, slightly more confident. At a complete loss for words, all you can manage to do is nod your head. You're sure there is also a grin across your face so large, that you can't possibly hide how happy you are in this moment.

The girls were clearly very wrong about you needing to make the first move. Spencer had shown up at my door, like something from a fairy tale, ready to sweep you off my feet and whisk you away to an unknown adventure. As you took his arm and descend the stairs to the lobby, you know in that moment you'd follow him anywhere. He lead you to his car and opened the passenger side, allowing you to slip in. Spencer driving was such a rarity; You are impressed once again.

If you had any uncertainty of how you felt before, it was all but a memory now, replaced with an overwhelming gravitational pull to the man who is sitting next to you in the car. You try not to let your gaze linger too long. Part of you wants to take in how handsome he looks, but the other part just wants to take in every inch of the person who had all but just professed feelings for you. He'd asked you on a date. It felt like a whole new side of him and you are still in awe. You want to take in as much of it as possible, before it ever dares to slip away. Before he changes his mind, or you wake up...I mean there's always a twist right. But you bring your mind back to the present to focus in and enjoy every moment while it lasts.

You want to ask where you are going or why he asked you on a date but settle instead for the comforting silence of the ride. Somehow it isn't awkward. You just enjoy being for the moment, taking in one another's presence.

You can't help but admire his jaw line, the way his curls frame his face. He's definitely prettier than you, which isn't fair, but you don't mind seeing as you get  the pleasure of getting to look at him.

You've been staring a little too long when you notice he quickly glances your direction. Normally he would have turned red as a beet, but instead a small smile creeps on to his face. "You're staring." He says matter of factly, still smiling.

Impressed by his new confident demeanor, you decide to muster up the same confidence.

"If you didn't want me staring, you shouldn't have dressed up to look so darn good."

You catch a glimpse of redness on his face at your statement. You laugh to yourself, glad to still have the shy Spencer around when you want him.

"I didn't say I minded."  He states, smiling while keeping his eyes glued on the road.

Confident Spencer has caught you off guard once again, but you don't want to let that show.

"You're kind of a flirt, you know? Where did that come from?"

He just shrugs and laughs. Your eyes meet for a brief moment, bringing your attentions to the electricity filling the space between the two of you. It's a good thing he's driving, because his attention quickly shifts back to the road. After awhile he parks along a dimly lit street and exits the car, rushing over to open your door before you get the chance. He offers you his harm once again, helping you to stand as you try not to step on your dress.

"M'lady" he says with a cheesy smile.

You can't help but laugh. He's so corny, and you love every moment of it. He leads you to the entrance of what appears to be a theater or music hall of some sort.

"Did you get the times wrong maybe? There's no one else here. Pretty sure it's closed, Spence." You say, brow furrowed as you search for signs of other people.

He gives you a look that you can't quite read, confidence and amusement perhaps, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a set of keys. He unlocks the door and leads you inside. He leads the two of you  through a dark lobby, as if he knows exactly where he's headed. You're grateful, considering you can barely see but a few feet in front of you. You're still unable to determine exactly where he's brought you or why. You can see light crawling out from under a set of ornate wooden doors not too far in front of you.

He pushes to doors open to reveal a beautiful, aged theater. All the lights are on, curtains drawn, string lights draped from the ceiling. It reveals its age and history with every creak of the floor boards, each carving of the railings. The warm glow that fills the room leaves you feeling giddy. You have no idea why he brought you here, but my heart is already racing from excitement. You run your hand along the ornate design carved into the railings as you make your way into the room, taking in every detail.

Your attention is soon drawn to the stage at the front of the room. There, sitting under the spotlight, is a beautiful grand piano. Glossy black with pearly white keys. In front of it sits a piano bench, covered in a deep red velvet. You turn to look at Spencer for the first time since entering the room, curiosity and excitement showing on your features. He's got a mysterious smile that tells you he has a plan.

[aelaer]

Suicide TW!!! I live for the Nick/Stephen frenemy relationship, so: AU where Stephen is severely depressed and, instead of crashing his car, he parks in a pull-over and attempts suicide (drugs, alcohol, cutting, up to you) only to then be hit by an oncoming car. As a result, he ends up in hospital to realise that not only is he still alive, but Nick knows what he did. He can't stand the shame and humiliation, until he hears the words "I'm sorry" out of nowhere.

Okay nonny, so a couple things:

By relationship I presume you meant “platonic relationship” as my list of (serious) romance-focused stories in the MCU is a big fat zero and will remain that way probably for some time. If not all time. But I never say never.

I altered the scenario a bit and decided not to use a car crash, but the main elements (depression/suicide, Nick and Stephen interaction, Nick Knowing) remain. This also sort of allows it to potentially be in the “realm of canon” with enough stretching, should one decide to want the headcanon. Though IMO this is an AU-verse.

So I hope that’s all okay and you still find it fulfilling. I’ve never actually written Nick before (though I dabbled with the idea of all the events of Doctor Strange from Nick’s POV like, back when the film first came out) so that was also fun. I really dislike fics that make him look like an idiot (or worse, a pervert for some weird ass reason) so it’s great to get my own view out.

And I also didn’t want to write a book because I’ve got too many WIPs that are books that need to get finished first, so I was going for “short and sweet”. In a manner of speaking. I mean it seems I’m still incapable of doing something under 2000 words but it’s shorter than the last prompt so you know, I’m getting there. 

As the prompt suggests, this fic will go into detail about very serious subjects around mental health, including depression and suicide. Please proceed with caution if these are sensitive subjects for you. 

Please also note that the symptoms and actions taken within the story are not a guide or diagnosis tool and should be interpreted as strictly fictional. Please refer to official literature such as those offered by the National Suicide Prevention Hotline (US) and other verified sources for what you should do if you believe someone you know is suffering from suicidal thoughts.

Written for @stephenstrangebingo square, “It’s Not About You”.

—————–

Every employee at Metro-General took the confidentiality of their patients’ conditions seriously. There was no doctor or nurse on staff that could be bribed to leak any celebrity’s medical information; they were known for having some of the best doctors for a reason. Many of the elite of New York went to that hospital in the middle of Midtown for that famous discretion.

There was, however, one glaring exception to this rule that every nurse and doctor learned early on: if one of their co-workers had something very serious happen to them, their status would eventually leak out to the rest of the staff. There was never anything particularly hostile about the whispers, and while curiosity was the biggest fuel to the information train, news tended to spread out from concern rather than scorn. This trend even applied to staff members that were generally seen as assholes.

Doctor Nicodemus West learned this during his next shift. A couple minutes after entering his office, just as he was getting into his email inbox, a quick knock at the open door broke his concentration. He looked up and smiled. “Morning, Alyssa.”

The nurse offered a brief smile in greeting, but stepped inside and closed the door before speaking. “Did you hear the news?” she asked softly; her smile was gone.

His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, news?”

“Doctor Strange was admitted to the ER last night.”

His mind came to a screeching halt. “What? Seriously?” He generally avoided the man if he could, though from what was going around the gossip circles the last couple weeks, Strange was still a raging asshole, but in good health. “What happened?”

Alyssa shook her head. “I don’t know all the details, but he had to get his stomach pumped.”

Nick winced in sympathy; that was not a pleasant experience. “Jeez,” he muttered. “Is he doing okay?”

“Last I heard, he’s stable,” she answered. “Apparently Doctor Palmer’s still his emergency contact, though.”

“She would be anyone’s emergency contact; she’s too good of a person,” he replied in return. “Thanks for letting me know, though; I suspect others in the department may need to take some of his patients that can’t wait for him.”

Alyssa nodded. “The administration is already looking through his cases, though I expect he’ll be up and back at work as soon as he can. Doctor Strange is never really one for breaks.”

“I suppose not,” said Nick. The conversation turned to other topics and the neurosurgeon put the matter with Strange in the back of his mind, left as generally unimportant in the grand scheme of his life.

————— 

Strange got back to work and things got back to normal in the neurology department.

Only thing was, Nick started noticing things.

While Doctor West was no prodigy like Doctor Strange, he would not have the ability to become a neurosurgeon without the ability to notice details. It was the details in life— in the human body in particular— that fascinated him and turned him towards medicine in the first place. No, he wasn’t a prodigy, but he was still damn good at his job.

So when Strange came back to the office a few days after his visit to the ER, Nick decided to break his usual policy of avoiding Strange as much as humanly possible and went to his office to welcome him back. It was good for department morale to act mostly cordial to each other, even if most of the effort was on his part.

The door was open and Strange was still in his outer coat, back to him, when Nick knocked on the doorway. The doctor turned to face him and Nick raised a hand in greeting. “Hey. Just wanted to say welcome back.”

Strange’s brow furrowed and he made a rather weird expression. “Oh… uh, thanks.” He turned to the coat rack in the corner of the room and began to remove his outerwear.

“How’re you…” Nick started, but paused as the coat was fully removed, revealing Strange’s dress shirt underneath. It hung rather loosely on his figure; apparently the man had lost some weight recently. Due to Christine Palmer’s honeymoon phase about two years ago, Nick was more aware than he would prefer to be about how ‘fit’ Doctor Stephen Strange was (which really was unfair).

It seemed that wasn’t the case anymore. When had that happened?

Strange didn’t seem to notice his trailing off. “I’m fine. Perfectly alright, thank you. I hope you didn’t botch any of my surgeries while I was gone.”

And there was the asshole he remembered. Nick pressed his lips together. “All your patients are recovering without setback. You can even see them for yourself.” He did his best to cut back the bite of sarcasm in his last sentence.

If Strange heard it, he didn’t comment on it. “I’ll let the nurses handle it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I do have a lot of emails to catch up on. Close the door behind you, if you would.”

Nick rolled his eyes and shut the door as he left the office, but the detail seen settled in the back of his mind to remain quiet, but not forgotten.

And with that one thing noticed, he started to notice more things as the weeks passed on.

According to Alyssa, Strange was rarely seen in the hospital cafeteria anymore— one of the cafeteria staff  members who had an open crush on the doctor was complaining about it, apparently.

Strange was having bouts of insomnia, according to gossiping security personnel. There were times that doctors did not go home for the night, but his were becoming more consistent occurrences.

As Nick ate with members from both his usual surgical team and Strange’s surgical team one lunch time a few weeks after Strange came back to work, the topic somehow went to Strange and his uncanny recollection for music, no matter the genre or decade it was released. It was well known that he liked to have the others on his team try and challenge him with their song choices while he was performing his operations.

“Not anymore,” said Billy, and Alyssa frowned at him.

“What? But that’s his gig! He’s been doing that for years.”

Billy shrugged. “He hasn’t been doing it for a few months now. He’s told us he doesn’t care what we want to play, but he doesn’t guess at songs anymore. Doesn’t give any recommendations, either. It sort of sucks; my music library has barely expanded this year.”

“Maybe you need to find something really challenging, a song so obscure that he’ll be drawn into it again,” she said. “I wonder how well he knows Jamaican music.”

“We tried British and Australian Top Hits of the ‘80s last year, but we haven’t done Jamaica. Do Jamaicans generally speak English? He hasn’t memorized songs from every language in the world.”

She rolled her eyes, and as Alyssa started explaining the history of Jamaica and Jamaican Creole, Nick stored this new bit of information away in the section of his brain that, somehow, had become dedicated to collecting all these tidbits.

And Nick noticed that every time he bumped into the other neurosurgeon in the hall, he appeared exhausted. Nick did not know if anyone else noticed the clear loss of weight and the dark bags around his eyes, but they were blindingly obvious to him. 

Usually Strange moved with an endless amount of energy when off to surgery, and with some of the more challenging surgeries the energy stayed with him no matter how long the procedure took. It was an exuberance that even he admired, though it was never something he planned to admit to Strange. But now the energy was missing. He was still snarky and aloof, but the spark of genuine joy that was once clear to everyone in the department was gone.

If Strange was a friend, he would have acted weeks ago. If Strange was a colleague he got along with, he would have waited no longer than a month, just to make sure. But two months after his short medical hiatus and Nick remained uncertain, because this was Stephen Strange. Surely no one as big-headed and arrogant as he could ever actually be— yes, there were some signs, but it just seemed too far-fetched. Surely not.

A couple weeks later and some of the doctors from neurosurgery, some from cardiology, and some from the ER were having a rare lunch together. Somehow Christine Palmer had managed to drag Strange out of his office to see his coworkers. And somehow he ended up sitting next to Strange, though the man was mostly quiet as he took the occasional bite from his salad. That in itself was very unusual, as Nick was used to Strange enjoying all the attention of the room.

The conversation turned to a sudden, inexplicable death that happened just yesterday that the hospital was still trying to solve. As theories went around the table, Nick heard Strange mutter under his breath, “Maybe she just realized life wasn’t worth living.” None of the others heard it. Nick pretended he didn’t, either.

But the comment resonated in his head for the rest of the day.

———— 

This was not going to be comfortable. This was not going to be easy. Nick hated that he, of all people, had noticed. Had no one else seen it?

It only took another day to push his discomfort aside. “It’s not about you,” he mumbled to himself in the mirror in the early morning. “Strange needs help.” And he was a doctor, first and foremost. And doctors helped people in need.

He wanted to speak with Strange outside the hospital, in a neutral place for them both. The only problem was that he never saw the man outside of work and he had no idea how to approach him.

The opportunity came a few days later when Nick was already performing surgery while on call. Another emergency craniotomy was required and Strange stepped in at Christine’s request while Nick was unavailable. It was as good a reason as any.

“Thank you for taking that patient yesterday,” he said in greeting the next morning.

Strange looked up from his computer, surprise crossing his features. He looked tired. “No surgeon can be in two surgeries at once,” he said with a shrug.

“Still, I appreciate it,” Nick said. “I know you’re not fond of the ER.”

“A butcher shop.”

He ignored the comment. “So I’d like to thank you. You free after work? Dinner’s on me.”

The other man stared at him. “You want to have dinner,” he said flatly.

“As colleagues,” he added, hopefully unnecessarily, because really? “I’m trying to be nice and show my appreciation, Strange. Don’t be an ass about it and just say yes.”

Strange lifted his brows high, but the fuel to his ego did the trick. “Yeah, sure. Got any place in mind?”

Nick shrugged. “There’s a good Italian place three blocks south of us.”

“Italian’s fine.”

“Cool. See you later.” He ignored the expression on Strange’s face and took his leave.

—————

The walk from the hospital to the restaurant was a bit of an uncomfortable one, but Nick wasn’t certain if it was mostly one-sided or not; Strange was more or less expressionless. He only tried to instigate conversation once throughout the walk, but it trailed off to silence before they reached the second block, so Nick decided then to save all attempts at conversation for dinner.

It was going to be hard enough then.

After they arrived and were seated, he also decided to wait until they had finished eating before approaching the topic. Maybe the food would relax the nerves in his gut.

So in the meantime he talked shop. It had been some time since either of them had discussed their cases with each other, so he figured that it was a safe enough conversation topic until the end of the meal.

Unfortunately Strange, bastard that he was, threw him off his planned course. It was just after they ordered food; both had a glass of wine and their waiter had already set down a basket of bread and a saucer of olive oil for dipping. Strange caught Nick as the latter was ripping off a piece of bread to smother in the dipping oil.

“What is this really about?” he asked.

Nick paused mid-dip. “What?”

“All this.” He waved an arm to gesture to the restaurant. “I’ve helped in the ER several times when your hands were full. What is this actually about?”

He set his bread on his plate, frowning. “You can’t wait until after we eat?”

Strange raised a brow. “Consider yourself fortunate I said yes to this at all. I only came because, admittedly, I’m curious; I cannot begin to guess what you could possibly want to talk to me about outside of work.”

“Fine, fine.” Nick sighed and set his elbows on the table. He pressed his lips against his closed fists as he figured out how to start. All the while, Strange stared at him with an odd mix of exasperation and puzzlement. “You…” he started slowly. He trailed off.

“Me,” said Strange.

Fuck it. “You’ve been off lately.”

His brows shot up. “Off?”

“Yeah, off. Not yourself. Different.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly that. You’re acting differently lately. For a while, apparently.”

He bristled in clear irritation. “If you’re just going to waste my time—”

“You don’t enjoy your work anymore.”

That shut him up. Nick continued in the silence. “You used to always enter and exit your operations with this excitement that echoed down the halls. That’s completely gone.”

Strange recovered his voice. “If you’re implying that my work has suffered—”

“No, no,” he interrupted. “Not at all. This isn’t about the quality of your work; this is about you.” Strange didn’t have an immediate retort to that, so Nick continued, “Or maybe it’s not about you but about this man that’s taken over you the last several months. That man is clearly not eating and sleeping well, barely comes out of his office, hasn’t bragged about his newest studies and speeches in months, and mutters about life not being worth living at lunchtime.”

His colleague’s mouth hung slightly open as if he wanted to say something but had forgotten how to speak. Nick couldn’t quite read the emotion in his eyes, either. Before he completely lost his nerve, he said one last observation. “And that man,” he muttered, “had his stomach pumped two months ago, and those circumstances combined with the rest paint a picture of a man who… might be a bit lost.”

Something raw flashed through Strange’s eyes that made him appear more vulnerable than Nick’s ever seen him before. That brought on a strange and discomforting feeling that joined the rest of the jumbled nerves in his stomach.

Quickly he continued, “You don’t need to tell me anything. I’m not demanding anything from you. I just wanted to say that— no matter what differences we have— that if you do need someone for— for anything— that I’m here. Even if it’s just to listen.”

He fell silent, and still Strange didn’t say anything immediately, which was unusual in itself. Nick wasn’t sure if he should continue looking at him or if he should look away, or what.

And thank God, dinner arrived and gave him the perfect reason to look away and leave Strange to his thoughts.

The silence sat for the remainder of the meal. Strange didn’t eat much (though he couldn’t blame him) but also didn’t leave. Nick didn’t know what that meant, or if it meant anything at all.

Still, he had one last thing to say.

After he paid the bill, he pulled a card from his wallet as he stood up. “She came with high recommendations,” he said as he put down the card of a therapist that most certainly did not work at Metro-General. “Think about it.” With that, he took his leave, allowing Strange time alone to dwell on what he said.

————

When they next saw each other at work, neither of them made any indication to each other that they had dinner last night. Their last conversation never crossed the threshold of the hospital. Strange never called him, and Nick never inquired about his well being more than he did any other coworker.

But a few months later, when he got word that Strange was starting his music challenge games in his operations once more, Nick allowed himself a small smile at the news.

[xmeetyoutherex]

11 minutes

Chapter 3 // Simple

Previous chapters can be found in my masterlist :)

I recommend listening to the song “listen to your heart” by The Maine.

Carter and Calum texted each other all morning. He had finally convinced her to come to a small party Ashton was hosting.

It took a lot of convincing considering Carter was never was the party type of girl. But Calum promised it would be few to no people and extremely relaxed. With that in mind Carter had to agree. She herself was dying to see Calum again. She didn't realize how much she missed him and the boys.

Carter dressed in her usual attire. Just a simple t-shirt and black jeans, added with her black Doc-Martins.

By the time she was ready to leave, the party had already started. She wasn't late because she was working on her outfit. She just honestly didn't want to go. But she hadn't seen Luke and Michael in so long and Calum said that Like would be there. So she grabbed her keys and locked her apartment door and walked up the steps to the not so busy streets of outer LA.

Cater walked down to the subway to find she only had about a minute or two to wait for the train she needed to arrive. As she waited she got her phone out opening up Spotify and plugged her headphones in. She decided to listen to Lana Del Ray.

It was about a forty minute ride to the stop closest to Ashton's Flat. But even though it was the closest stop she still had about a ten to fifteen minute walk. She didn't mind though she was already late what's another ten minutes?

As soon as she arrived she knew she was under dressed and it wasn't a small relaxed party as promised.

Carter was about to just leave, seeing as this was not her scene at all. But then she saw them.

All her worry faded away though as soon as she saw the only reason she even came. Calum was standing in the kitchen waiting exactly where he said he would be, Luke and Ashton close by. He was dressed in a simple t-shirt and black jeans topped with a leather jacket, making her feel less worried about her attire.

As soon as Calum saw her he felt as though it was the first time he had smiled all night. Not even waiting for her to walk all the way to him, he decided to meet her in the middle.

"After about an hour I wasn't sure you were gonna show."

"Well up until about twenty minutes ago I wasn't." She knew she made a last minute decision in coming but she wasn't late because of it, Calum just didn't need to know that. But Calum still knew Carter wasn't joking about making a late decision to come, and he couldn't help but laugh at her comment anyways.

“Is that Carter?” Carter averted her eyes from Calum to behind him to see, a completely different looking, Luke. “Damn, have you changed.”

Carter rolled her eyes at him cause she didn’t change that much, only outgrew her baby face and started wearing makeup. She still had the same glasses she wore in high school, same hair style except instead of a full head of purple only the ends are purple now. She certainly didn’t change as much as him. She gave a snarky reply of, “and that’s coming from you.”

They could all tell she was joking based on the smile embracing her face. Luke went in to give her a hug while saying, “I know I got hot, no need to comment on it though.”

Calum and Ashton burst into laughter and Carter joining with a chuckle of, “but it is true,” as Luke and her separated from the hug.

Luke and Ashton decided to head back into the kitchen leaving Carter and Calum to themselves in the hallway.

"Come on Carter, lets go outside. There's less people out there." He lightly grasped her arm and led her outside.

Calum led her to two chairs away from everyone. Calum dramatically held both his arms out pointing to one of the seats. "Your throne," Calum then bowed his head while having a smirk play at his lips.

"We both know I'm no royalty" Carter’s family was never poor, but she certainly wasn’t getting more than one small Christmas gift a year and only movie nights on her birthdays. They just couldn’t afford to spend money on wasted items and Calum always knew that no matter how secret she always tried to keep it. Calum was one of the only people who ever gave her birthday gifts or random things here and there. They always left her feeling guilty cause she couldn’t do the same back.

"And we both know that has always been a lie." They both let out a slight chuckle but Cal's was heavy and weighted with nerves that he hadn't felt in years.

"I see your still as emo as when we were in high school." Calum observed the Mayday parade shirt that Carter still had from when she saw them in high school. Also the all black theme she was sporting went very well with the notion. A different look to what she had been sporting at the bar a couple weeks ago.

Calum on the other hand was wearing all black, but Carter knew that wasn't his usual attire lately. "And you have seem to made it only a phase."

It was pure joking on Carter's part and Calum could tell from the smile she was wearing. "My attire may have changed, but believe me all four of us only became more emo over the years."

"Your new style suits you," carter complimented while rolling her eyes sarcastically with her next comment. "Even though I feel betrayed here."

"Hey, I said that I would be emo forever with you, that doesn't include the clothes." They both broke into laughter and Calum couldn't help but feel all of the nerves he had, at the beginning of the night, fade away.

Their laughter drowning out the rest of the crowd and people allowing for another everlasting night.

....

Her and Calum talked about everything and nothing for hours. It was probably around 2:00 a.m. when they finally realized the party was dead. Looking inside, Carter could only see Ashton and Luke cleaning. She took that as her que to go help and then get ready to head home. Before she could get up though Calum was talking again.

"You love this song." It took her a minute to process what he just said until the lyrics started sinking in.

We're too young this is never gonna work

She could still remember the first time she listened to that song. Her and Calum were just sitting in her bedroom listening to random music. Calum still remembers her whispering how she adored this song.

That's what they say, "your gonna get hurt"

Calum stood up and held out his hand for her. All she could do was scoff at him. He knew she didn't dance, well at least not in public places where others could possibly see her.

"Come on just take my hand, no one's watching."

She reluctantly took his hand, and he immediately pulled her close to him. "Cal this isn't a slow song," Carter said while pulling back putting about a foot between them.

"So is it a mosh song then?", Calum began to jump a little swinging Carters arm.

She beamed at him, "Of course." Calum released Carters hand and they both began to jump and shout the lyrics at each other. It probably seemed childish to people looking in on them, but to them in felt like they were back in high school. It felt easy to be childish again.

They started singing the lyrics at each other. Each of them taking a turn and as they sang they stuck their faces out towards the other.

This promise doesn't have to be so loud,

Just whisper I could find you in a crowd.

I think it's time we ran away.

Your father says I'm not good enough for you.

Your mother she thinks that this is just a phase,

I think that we should run away.Don't listen to the world, they say we're never gonna make it.

Don't listen to your friends, they would've never let us start.

Don't listen to the voices in your head,

Listen to your heart.

As Carter and Calum stared into each other's eyes with the biggest smiles on their faces, It felt safe. It felt simple. Neither of them would do this with anyone else. It would be too embarrassing, but with each other it was normal. It felt like nothing changed even after all these years.

Don't listen to the world, they say we're never gonna make it,

But I know we'll make it.

When the song ended another The Maine song came on and Calum commented, "who gave Luke control over the music?"

The two began to do the same thing to the song Right Girl without a regret in the world.

As Carter and Calum danced around laughing to each other, Luke and Ashton couldn't help but notice.

"I can't believe Carter made her way back into our lives again." Luke was still shocked by the coincidence. At first he hadn't believed Ashton when he told him.

Ashton let out a content sigh, "God am I glad she did." Ashton Hadn't seen Calum smile like that for too long, it was overdue. And Ashton being him, he decided to take a video.  He saw how when the two danced around to the music the world disappeared in a sweet bliss.

A/N: well......................... it’s longer. It’s so freakin cheesy the pizza is five inches thick.

If you want to be in my taglist let me know!

Taglist:

@emotionalhue @5saucewho @someinsanefangirl @claredolphinbear24 @friendly-neighborhood-michelle @fangirlforever0704 @bitterbethany @tresfandom 

[creekqueen27]

Fate (Raphael x Reader)

Requested: can you do one with Raphael, she gets kidnapped and they get Raph's dna and make her pregnant, he's actually happy about it cause he already loved her, how he acts around her being pregnant. Maybe some protective or possessive Raphael with some smutt?Thx!! <3

Gotcha boo thang 💋

Requests are open.

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The bright lights made it hard for you to open your eyes. You tried to move your arms, only to realize you were restrained. Memories of what happened the night before come rushing back; the break in, the fighting, the capturing of yourself and the turtles. This really looks like the end. You turn your head and see what you assume is a doctor. You swallow thickly, trying to move your legs only to realize.. they're in stirrups?! "What the fuck.." you say, gaining the attention of the doctor. He looks up from the laptop and meets your eyes. "What are you doing to me?!?" You scream. He chuckles.

"Oh, you've been unconscious for the entire procedure, miss. You're an amazing surrogate. The healthiest eggs I've ever seen, really." Is that supposed to be a compliment? "I'm really excited for the outcome of the experiment. I'm sure you're concerned, but you shouldn't be. I'm very confident that it will be just a normal pregnancy, a normal delivery. Then, if we don't get the desired outcome, we can try again." The smile never leaves his face. Your stomach suddenly feels sick.

"Pregnancy?!" You shout. "I'm pregnant?! How?!" Your head is spinning.

"One of your eggs were fertilized with the DNA sample we acquired from your friend, Raphael. We believe the outcome should greatly benefit our company, the physical talents of you both combined-" You tuned him out, you felt like your heart stopped. You couldn't breathe. There goes your chance with him..

"I'm pregnant with Raph's baby.." you lay you're head back as you feel tears filling your eyes. Are we ever getting out of here? The thought ran through your mind for the next few days until finally, at dusk, you heard glass breaking and an alarm going off. As you heard people getting beat up closer to where you were being kept, you felt hopeful.

"She's in there!!" April's voice called out. She must have gotten help. You feel like you're going to cry when she busts through the door and starts undoing your wrists. You immediately hug her, tears escaping your eyes as you sob. "Are you okay?! What'd they do to you.." she trails off, glancing at the screens around you.

"Come on!" Leo screams as you see the turtles knocking people down left and right. You stand up, grabbing the folder next to the chair you were strapped to, and ran as fast as you could while holding April's hand. Casey was holding a door for everyone while he urged everyone to hurry. The fresh air hits your face as you all make it outside and run towards the "lady killer" as Mikey calls it. You hold tight to the folder as you hop in the back with April, Donatello in the passenger seat, Leo driving, Mikey, Raphael and Casey in the back pushing buttons to get defenses up again the enemy. Once you're all in the clear, you can't help but stare at Raph. April nudges you, leaning in.

"Are you okay?" She asks. You immediately feel tears falling down your face. "It's okay, you're okay. We're all here, you're okay." She soothes, Mikey coming closer and offering reassurance as well. You shake your head.

"I'm pregnant." You choke out as you hand the folder to April.

"Pregnant?!" Mikey screams and looks at your belly. He's pulled back by Raphael harshly, who has a pained look on his face.

"Raph.." April says lowly, looking between the two of you.. "he needs to read this.." she says, looking to you. You nod your head and lean against her after she hands the folder to Raph. You stare at him as he reads. He suddenly looks up at you. His eyes go to your belly. Back up to your eyes. He doesn't look disgusted?

"Are you hurting?" He asks. You shake your head. "Are you sure this is real?" He asks, leaning towards you a bit. You nod your head. "Yer pregnant.. with.." he whispers, looking at your belly. "Your baby." You finish for him, meeting eyes.

A few weeks later.. about 8 to be exact..

The lair was finally cleaned up and restored, which is good because the morning sickness hit you hard. You just lay and rested on the couch with a bucket, miserable. Mikey tried to cheer you up, but it didn't work. You just wanted this to be over. "Here, try this." You look up at Donnie offering you a small vile of liquid. You weakly grasp it, drinking it down. It only takes a few seconds to notice a great difference.

"Oh my God, Donnie.. thank you." You say quietly. You sit up, popping your back before standing and pulling down your pj shorts. Donnie gently leads you to the table where Mikey just sat down fresh pizza. As soon as you sit, you're pulled up again. You look up and meet eyes with Raphael, giving him a confused look. He places a pillow in your seat before sitting you back down. You can't help but smile. He's actually been really sweet towards you since..

"Yessss, gimme that sweet cheesey goodness!" Mikey says while digging in the pizza box. He passes the box around while Leo sits down, grabbing a slice. When you finish your second slice, you make a move to stand but Raph quickly puts his hand on your shoulder, holding you in place.

"Ya need'a eat more." He states, grabbing another slice and sitting it in front of you. You look from the slice, back up to him.

"I'm full." You simply say, earning a look from Raph.

"Baby aint." He says. You roll your eyes at him. "Just eat the damn pizza." He sighs. You also sigh, eating the slice. Maybe you weren't as full as you thought. "Don, you finish the thing so we can see the baby yet?" Raph asks, leaning back in his seat. The nerdy turtle swallows quickly, and smiles.

"In fact, I have. And I don't mean to brag, but I believe it's much more accurate than what you would get in a doctor's office." Donnie smiles. You're still getting prenatal care from an actual baby doctor, but extra care never hurts.

"Can I see the baby today?" You ask, getting nervous but excited as well. Donnie nods, mumbling an 'of course' as Mikey bounces in his seat.

"Dude, let me see the baby too!" Mikey shouts. You giggle at him.

"You can see, Mikey."

"After me." Raphael states harshly. You look up to him, raising a brow at his tone. He looks at you out of the corner of his eye. He chews his toothpick as he follows you to Donnie's lab, Mikey still sitting and finishing off the pizza with Leo. You lay on a long desk with a pillow behind your head as Donnie fools with the machine. Raphael towers over you, staring down at your belly before taking a seat, making him a bit above eye level with you. As the machine turns on, Donnie grabs a jelly like substance and raises your shirt. You don't miss Raph clenching his jaw.

"Okay, let's see.. female organs.." Donnie mumbles to himself as he rubs the jelly around your belly and presses a wand like thing to your lower belly. "AHA!" He shouts as an image pops up on the screen. Not entirely black and white. Not fuzzy, but clear.. "As if you're actually inside the womb, I knew it would be much more detailed." He says, proud of his invention. "Very strong heart rate. Seems developmentally on schedule. Aw, what a little shell." He coos, and you stare at the image. It really is Raph's baby.

"It's so small.." Raph says in awe, smiling at screen. Are his eyes watery?

"Actually, it's measurements are a bit bigger than most at this gestational age." Donnie says casually, getting different angles of the baby. "Most likely from the father." Donnie states playfully with a glance at Raph. You've never seen him smile so big before, immediately bringing a calming feeling over you as you smiled, too.

"Does it look healthy?" You asks, biting your lip. Donnie nods, double checking the heart rate.

Raph was always there when you got an ultrasound from Donnie. He always smiled looking at the baby on the screen. He was always helpful.. except for this exact moment. You're almost 5 months pregnant, finally have a noticeable bump.

"Move." You state, looking up at the red clad turtle blocking the door. He moved all your stuff, including yourself, into his bedroom weeks ago during the worst part of the morning sickness. He would always follow you to the bathroom, holding your hair for you. (He insists on sleeping on the mattress in the floor while you take his bed.) You've been procrastinating on getting stretchier pants for a week or so, and you were going to go out and buy some now but..

"Ya aint leaving. It's not safe for you, yer vulnerable." Raph states, not even moving an inch while you're pushing him as hard as you can. "Ain't gonna getcha anywhere, shorty." You sigh.

"Raph, I need more pants. These aren't really fitting anymore!" You pout up at him. "I have to go get some! And more socks.." you say quietly as you remember.

"Call April, I'll pay 'er back for em." His rough voice is low as he looks down at you. You pout again, earning a smirk and eye roll from him.

"I need to get them myself, I can't have you buying everything for me-"

"Sure ya can, shorty." Raph cuts you off, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"You could just dress up and go with me.." you quietly suggest as he leads you into his gym, remembering when he went out in daylight in a disguise.

"Ya can just call April and stay ya ass here and stay safe." The irritation is clear in his voice. "Get some light cardio goin'." Raphael starts with his weights as you use the treadmill lightly, trying to stay healthy during this whole thing. You give into Raphael's 'suggestion' and ask April to get you some comfy maternity pants and clothes. She really is your best friend, and has stayed so supportive. When she arrives the next day your new wardrobe (she really went all out), you were so excited. Your favorite was a dark red sweater.

After having girl time with April, and another ultrasound (which included Raph) because she hadn't seen the baby yet, you and her made a plan. "I hope they go for it." You say as you walk into the busy living area where all four turtles were playing video games.

"I swear to God yer fuckin cheatin!" Raph growls at Mikey as he cowers away from his older brother.

"Dude I'm not, you just suck!" Mikey says, running behind April and picking her up as a shield. Your giggle catches Raph's attention, but you don't see it.

"So guys! Why don't we go to the farmhouse for a few days? Give this girl some time outside." April suggests while giving you a side hug. Mikey immediately agrees, followed by Donnie. Leo is indifferent, really. He could take it or leave it. Raph seems unsure.

"Please?" You beg, walking to where he now sits at the kitchen table. You're barely above his eye level with him sitting and you standing by his side.

"Dunno if it's gonna be safe." He states, drinking his orange crush. You sigh, putting your arms around his large shoulders.

"Pleeeeeease? Everyone's gonna be there, it'll be safe." You beg. He grunts in response. You squeeze him a bit, whispering a quiet 'please' while leaning your head against his. You hear a 'come on, Raph' from Donnie. You nuzzle him lightly while Mikey tells him to 'dude, it'll be fine'. Even April throws in a 'itll be fun'. You give a final pout as he caves.

"If ya really wanna go.." he says lowly. You smile so big and kiss his cheek, thanking him before you rush to go pack. You completely miss the blush on his face, but everyone else sees it.

"You really love her, dontcha dude?" Mikey asks casually, softly. Raph grunts and nods. "You can totally tell her." He suggests.

"Look at me, Mikey. I'm a freak. She's beautiful. And she's stuck havin' my kid. She never wanted that.. ain't gonna make it worse for her." Raph sighs through his nose before going to the gym to work through his negative feelings.

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The