#colonel!delphia

[moonchild-things]

Chapter Twelve: Homecoming

Summary: Delphia Odinsdottir is the Goddess of Virtue. While stopping petty fights between her brothers, sparing with her friends, and practicing with her mother, Delphia has visions of the future. However, her once boring, uneventful life as Princess is disrupted by one of the most disturbing visions she had ever seen. Which leads her to run into a patriotic captain in red, white and blue.

Word Count: 4056 

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Oh look at that, another update done! And it's the last chapter! Technically there's still the epilogue, but this is the end of the story so far. Hope ya'll like it!

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DELPHIA HAD NEVER KNOWN WHAT HEARTBREAK FELT like. However, as she sat in the underground base of the SSR, she knew that she understood it now. She drifted around the compound like an empty ghost, completely unlike her once bright, bubbly self. Though it was understandable. Steve was gone. She knew that he would have been welcomed in Valhalla for his fighting and courageous death. His sacrifice saved so many people… It just hurt that it had to be him. 

After taking the HYDRA base forcibly, the SSR had taken a catalog of the advanced weaponry that HYDRA had created. Either the weapons would be kept under tight lock and key by the allied forces, or they’d use the weapons themselves. It was a bit of a toss up. One that Delphia knew she should be concerned about to an extent, but couldn’t muster up the ability to care.

While she should maybe see about finding the whereabouts of the Tesseract and making sure that it was kept out of the wrong hands. After all, this fight against Schmidt was due to him having the Tesseract and using it for his own greedy, evil plans. Even still, it’s not like she could find it at this moment. It was in the middle of nowhere. A place that Delphia wasn’t even sure that she could go to due to it reminding her of Steve.

All she could do at this point was tell her father about its whereabouts when she returned home. Though there was the fact that she knew the Midgardians kept the Tesseract at least for a bit. Thanks to her visions, she was certain that the tesseract was kept in the hands of the likes of the SSR for a time. How long that was, she wasn’t exactly sure, but she knew it would be for quite a while.

Currently she was cleaning out the room that she had been using to sleep in at the SSR bunkers. After all of this, she knew it was time to return home. It’s been a few days and Delphia has had no new visions to guide her on what to do. Her gut was telling her that it was time to go home now. 

“Delphia.”

Delphia glanced over her shoulder to see Peggy was the one coming into her makeshift room, “Hello, Peggy.”

The woman took a look around the nearly completely bare room with a raised eyebrow. “You’re cleaning up in here?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “In a way.”

“Colonel Phillips gave this to me earlier,” Peggy said softly, “he asked me to bring it to you.” She handed Delphia the small photo of Steve. The Steve before the serum, the Steve that Delphia is certain she fell in love with. She didn’t care if he was a scrawny little thing back then, it was his heart that she found the most attractive. Staring at this photo, it just brought tears to her eyes. Seeing how Delphia was becoming upset, Peggy placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. They had become such close friends that Peggy hated seeing her like this. Peggy had been with Delphia through so much during this war, and knew that they needed each other more than ever now. However, Peggy had a feeling that Delphia was going to be leaving her behind now after everything. Pulling Delphia into a side hug as the two stared at that photo, Peggy asked, “What will you do now?”

“Now?” Delphia was quiet for a moment, contemplating what to say. “I have no value to the SSR. No value to this war.”

Peggy shook her head at that statement, “You always have value, Delphia.” She wasn’t going to let Delphia think otherwise. Everyone has value, especially someone like Delphia.

In Delphia’s mind she certainly was thinking the opposite. What more could Delphia provide to the SSR. She could no longer be Abraham’s assistant, she hadn’t been for such a long time. She was the charity case that was kept around because of the kindness to those in the SSR. However, now that Steve was gone, the entire reason that she had been recruited by them in the first place, was gone. Steve had died, and so did a part of Delphia. She shook her head slowly, “Not here. I will go home. I have been away for too long.” 

The thought of home almost brought some giddiness to Delphia. She has been quite homesick since she had been brought to Midgard so long ago. 

“If you think that’ll be best for you,” Peggy said softly. She understood Delphia’s thought process about this entire thing. After all, she never signed up to be a part of this since she was just a victim of Schmidt for nearly a year. Peggy might not like it completely, but she definitely thought that it was for the best. “I’ll miss you.”

Delphia gave her a small, genuine smile, “I will miss you too, Peggy.”

“After the war, we could meet each other somewhere.” Peggy offered, “Hang out when things are far less chaotic and grim.”

“Perhaps.” She says this, however, she has a strong feeling that it would not happen. As much as she loves Peggy, nearly a sister that she never had, she could not face coming to Midgard again. There was too much pain here now. All Delphia could focus on now was going back home, back to the safety of her family in hopes that they could make her feel better. “I wish you the best of luck in the war.”

“Thank you, I know that we’ll win. Steve’s sacrifice will not be in vain.”

Delphia didn’t stick around long after that. Even the mere mention of his name was going to set her off. So she excused herself from Peggy with one final tight hug that lasted far too short in both of the women's opinions. Delphia made quick work of keeping her goodbye’s short and sweet with her other friends. She kept herself away from people as she tried to find an area to call for her ride home. She did find an empty alleyway, stinky and dark, and away from prying eyes.

“Heimdall!” She shouted out into the sky, “I am ready.”

The clouds in the sky began to circle above her. A blinding light shot down from above, engulfing her completely. With the familiar feeling of the bifrost consuming her, Delphia couldn’t tell if it was a comfort or not. She was returning home, however, with a heavy heart. Despite the turmoil of war and death that Midgard was currently consumed in, Earth had such potential to be a beautiful place. Delphia only wished she had gone to visit Midgard at a different time. Though deep down, she knew that was a lie. If she hadn’t been brought to Midgard she wouldn’t have had the blessing of meeting Abraham, meeting Peggy, meeting Steve, falling in love. Would she give that up if it meant seeing Earth’s potential? No. No, she wouldn’t.

“Sister!” The booming voice of Thor’s echoed all around them just as Delphia arrived. Delphia was quickly swept up in a tight hug of his as her brother rejoiced in her return. She wasn’t even given a moment to collect herself after her journey through the bifrost. Though it wasn’t like she minded, if anything this was more than welcomed.

“Leave her be, Thor. You will crush her with how tight you are hanging onto her.”

“She is not complaining is she? Are you?”

Delphia smiled lightly, “I am fine. I missed you both so much.”

Next up was Delphia’s mother who appeared more than relieved with seeing her in person, “Delphia.” Behind her, Odin also joined in the family reunion though kept his distance slightly. Lest he seem less manly because he decided to rejoice in his daughter’s return.

“Mother. Father,” She sighed through her nose, the sight of her parents brought her even more comfort for a moment. Frigga embraced her daughter tightly, seemingly afraid that Delphia would leave once again. 

“We missed you dearly.” Frigga said while inspecting her daughter, looking for injuries or anything of the like, “Things were much more chaotic without you around.”

Delphia laughed, “I can only imagine.” Both her brothers must have been causing quite the ruckus while she was away. Either Loki was playing far too many tricks or Thor was getting into too many fights, or both. It most likely was both.

Her father looked down at her with a stiff posture. His ever knowing eyes pinpointed his daughter with a stern yet soft look. Even if he didn’t really show it, Delphia knew that he was happy with her return. What father wouldn’t be happy to have their daughter back home? She knows he understands her role as a völva demands her to see things that are horrible and that she might have to do things to play along with those visions. However, that doesn’t mean he was completely content with it. He asked her, “Did you finish whatever mission you wished to complete?”

“In a way,” Delphia said softly, “I played my part. There are things in motion that cannot be stopped now.” The future that was coming was not one that she was looking forward to, however, she couldn’t do anything to stop it. The infinity stones would be used for a horrible result, and Delphia just hoped that her loved ones didn’t get too involved in it. Her visions showed her glimpses of the stones, where they are, what they will do until the moment they are assembled. However, she has no idea what the cost will be until that moment happens. She then shrugged her shoulders, “though I do believe that the Midgardians could have the Tesseract once again.”

“Again?” Odin blinked at that.

She shook her head trying to explain it as briefly as she could. “They had the Tesseract for some time and some Midgardians used it for some selfish reasons. It is still somewhere on their planet… But I’m afraid it must stay that way.”

Her father didn’t appear to be happy with the news. After all, he left the Tesseract in what he presumed was safe hands. As much as he wanted to go down there to find the Tesseract and bring it back to his vault, he trusted Delphia’s words. If she says that it must stay on Midgard, then it will stay.

Thor broke the tension that was starting to build with a hearty laugh, “Well, we must celebrate your return! Come now, we are already having a feast prepared for you.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Delphia did her best to appear happy with the announcement. She should have figured that something like this was going to happen. Thor would take any chance he could to have a good party, and her return is a perfect excuse for it. Though she really just wanted to be alone…

Her discouraged aura didn’t go unnoticed. As Thor headed off to lead the family back to the palace with his parents following, Loki made sure to walk right next to Delphia. He leaned down and lightly asked, “Is all well, sister?”

“Hm?” Delphia blinked at him in confusion, “Yes, yes of course.”

Loki eyed her skeptically, “Do you think I would believe that? As the god of lies, I can easily spot the lies of others. Especially my sister.” It wasn’t normal for Delphia to lie, especially to her brothers or parents. Though it was worrying for Loki to see how Delphia appeared to be uneasy about something. The last thing that he had wanted to see was his baby sister being bothered by something. He’s sure that it was something that happened on Midgard, and he really wanted to know what it was. 

Growing uncomfortable, Delphia turned herself away from him, “I do not want to talk about it, Loki.”

While her brother left her alone after that, Delphia could feel the concerned look he was burning her with. At the moment, she was not going to talk to anyone about what had happened while she was on Midgard. When her father asks for details about the Tesseract or anything else he deems necessary to know. Though it wasn’t like she was going to tell him about her… relationships while on Midgard. As far as they needed to know, she had allies on Midgard who helped her, made sure she was safe, and could be trusted. She didn’t want to talk about Steve. It just hurt too much.

They traveled back to the palace and started to get right to the celebration. There were so many people who had joined in on the celebratory feast. All of Asgard seemed relieved and ecstatic with the princess’ return home. After all, they were always told how precious she is as one of the last pure völva in Asgard so she was always kept under a watchful eye. Not many Asgardians were glad to hear about Delphia traveling away. She is the darling of the kingdom, no one ever wishes ill on her, ever.

There were a plethora of people who had come to the feast. It seemed like the entire kingdom had come to see the return of the princess. They all cheered and celebrated when she was presented by her father, healthy and seemingly happy. The usual golden glow that surrounded Delphia was dimmed slightly, but people were too excited by the festivities to really question it.

Currently, with a belly full of some of her favorite foods, Delphia sat around a golden table with Sif and the warriors three. They had greeted her loudly once they spotted her. They retold her all the stories about the adventures that they had gone on through laughter and exaggerated gestures. Delphia could never tell if some of it was actually true or not. It was quite amusing to see them retell them. Volstagg told of all the wonderful violence he got to partake in and the feasts that she missed out on. Fandral did his best to try and impress Delphia with his own retellings, as he had plenty to catch up on when trying to woo the princess. Hogun was more or less quiet while watching his friends talk, inputting his own tidbits of story from time to time. Sif was more or less the same, but just as excited to tell Delphia about what she had missed out on. It was safe to say that Delphia could feel just how much her friends missed her, which she hoped that they could feel how much he actually missed them. Even if Delphia wasn’t completely mentally okay.

“Now, tell us,” Volstagg started to say with his mouth full of food, “what is Midgard like nowadays.”

It took Delphia a moment to focus on the question pointed at her, “Oh, currently, they are at war.”

All her friends leaned forward at the interesting statement, Sif blinked, “At war? With who?”

“Themselves.”

Fandral pursed his lips, “Huh, interesting.”

Loki blinked at her from over his goblet of wine, “I hope that you did not join in on this war!”

She shrugged her shoulders sheepishly, “When war is everywhere, you cannot really avoid it.”

“Did you fight?” Sif asked eagerly, “How was it?”

“I did not fight, at least, not like I would have wanted.”

“How disappointing,” Hogun shook his head. He knew just like the others that Delphia was a skilled fighter, even if she was kept off the battlefield ever since her visions became rampant.

Delphia nodded her head slowly, “yes, I suppose.”

Fandral leaned forward, “You must have made allies while down there, correct?”

“What are the Midgardians like?” Volstagg asked, “Strong warriors? Cowards?”

Delphia was silent for a moment as a far away look clouded her eyes. The reminder of those who she left behind on Midgard, who was lost during her time there, grabbed her heart tightly. “T-the ones I met, they were strong.” She swallowed thickly before whispering, “Very strong.”

It didn’t seem like they caught on to the sudden depression that took her over. Perhaps that was because she was able to hide it real well, or they were too caught up in the festivities around them. Either way, no one commented on how she seemed to retract into herself. “Well, I am glad that my sister was kept safe by such warriors!” Thor chortiled loudly, “I would one day like to meet these Midgardians worthy of Delphia’s presence.” After that, Delphia didn’t divulge much of her time on Midgard to them. She just kept to herself and let them enjoy the feast. 

By the time the feast was well on its way of being over, Delphia was able to escape to her bedroom. While Thor, Sif and the warriors three had wanted to keep Delphia longer and begin an after party, Delphia declined. Loki seemed to be the only one that was concerned with how unenthusiastic Delphia appeared to be tonight. He had thought that after being away for so long, Delphia wouldn’t want to part from either him, Thor or those warrior buffoons for too long. Loki had assumed that Delphia would celebrate all night long! Even so, Delphia escapes the party to get upstairs. She even told the guards stationed outside her chambers to leave her alone for a while. It took a bit, but her sweet words and encouragement for them to grab a drink from what remained of the feast convinced them.

So now she stood in her bedroom, the only light illuminating the room were from the small candles by her bed and the moon shining through the large window. One thing that was a big comfort was finally getting to be in her own room again, to sleep in her own bed, to see the beautiful view from her window. Which is what she was staring out of once she changed into some night clothes. Her people were down there happy and excited about what the next day would bring, but Delphia was completely the opposite. Tomorrow was going to be just as bad as today, and yesterday. Everyday will be just as horrible. With the knowledge of Steve’s life being taken so terribly, Delphia wasn’t sure when any day would feel normal again. 

As she gazed at her kingdom, Delphia wondered what Steve would think of her home. What would he think of her not being a Midgardian. Would he have felt betrayed that she didn’t share that part of her? Be scared of her for not being a Human? Shunned her away for lying? Use her to his advantage like Schmidt? No. He wouldn’t do that, she was certain. Steve Rogers was nowhere near a man like Schmidt was. Though she couldn’t be certain that he would just accept who she was. Delphia wished she had the opportunity to have told him the truth.

Her mind then wandered to everything that she had endured on Midgard. Delphia had to question what was the point. She understood the vision she first saw of herself on Earth, but now she returns home empty handed. Was the reason that she was given the visions of herself on Midgard during that war was to get the Tesseract and bring it home? Well, she wasn’t sure. Though she also didn’t care. Not only that but she knows that she returns to Midgard sometime in the future. The reason was also concerning the Tesseract, so it seemed like her purpose being on Midgard during their war was not to retrieve the Tesseract. At this point, she could do nothing but yearn to shut herself into her room. She wants to be alone. Though it seemed she would have to wait for that.

The door to her bedroom suddenly creaked open, startling the princess as she jumped to see who had come in. It was Frigga, dressed in her beautiful golden gown and red hair in a fashionable braid. The queen came over to join her daughter at the window that Delphia focused on once more. “Heading to bed already?”

“Yes, the journey home and the feast has tired me out.” Delphia said softly, not willing to look at her mother lest she see straight through her. She felt dirty having to lie to her mother like this. While she was a bit tired from the long day, that wasn’t the main reason she had escaped to her chambers.

That didn’t seem to work as Frigga said, “I noticed something ever since you have returned home.” Her statement caused Delphia to freeze. Of course, her mother noticed something. Both Loki and their mother were observant people and Delphia could never really hide too much from them. No matter how much she would try. “You are not well,” Frigga said matter of factly, “I can tell. Your eyes are vacant and near lifeless.”

“Mother…” Before Delphia could protest further, her mother grabbed both of her hands in her own.

“I can recognize the look of heartache, you lost someone while on Midgard.” The way that Frigga was able to recognize Delphia’s plight nearly caused Delphia to sob. The reminder of one of the life of Abraham that was taken from right in front of her eyes haunted her. The reminder of Steve’s sacrifice caused her heart to sink even further. Seeing the young woman starting to grow upset, Frigga hushed her quickly, “You do not have to tell me about it. Though know that I will be here if you wish to.”

Delphia stared at her mother for a long moment as tears collected in her eyes. She loves that her mother knew her better than anyone. Perhaps that was due to her magic or her maternal instinct, but Delphia appreciated it no matter what it was. She wasn’t ready just yet to open up to anyone about what had happened on Midgard. Perhaps she would retell bits and pieces that were insignificant. However, no one would know about Steve, not yet anyway.

Delphia missed Steve, she will always miss him. It was an idea that she knew she would have to face at some point due to their large difference in life expectancy. However, it was more heartbreaking since he was taken far too soon in a horrendous way. Even if Delphia knew that she couldn’t spend the rest of her life with him, she wanted to know that he had a good long life on Midgard, not having to give it up due to one man’s selfishness and greed.

Though there was as dark thought in the back of her mind. A voice plaguing her with doubts of herself. There was one thing that she could have done. She could have used her magic to save Steve. How she would save him while he was on a plane miles and miles away from her, she couldn’t completely explain it. She would blame herself, she knew that. It would take years, centuries before Delphia came to terms with it. Who knew when she would be herself again. 

So she let herself sob. Sobbing into her mother’s shoulder once Frigga brought her in for a tight hug. The queen might not know what had happened to Delphia to cause her to become like this, but she would let her have time to tell her. Frigga knew not to push Delphia on this, lest she close everyone out permanently. Frigga just hoped that her daughter would not be completely lost in her grief.

As time passed, Midgard changed over the decades. It wasn’t until it was 2011 that Steve Rogers, Captain America, stood in New York City once again. Disoriented, confused, and on edge, Steve stared around at the foreign yet somehow familiar surroundings. The vibrant, colorful billboards that greeted him were by no means anything that he had seen before. The New York that he is used to was not the same, nor anything that he had ever seen before. Even when he is told by the eye-patch wearing Nick Fury about the fact he’s been asleep for seventy years, he’s not entirely upset about it. He’s more upset by the fact that he had left someone behind, someone he loved.

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There is is! the last official chapter and then the Epilogue. I'm not sure when I want to upload the epilogue at the moment. It's already done so I can do it tomorrow or maybe next week. Depends how I'm feeling I suppose, and if I remember to actually do it lol Next up for this series is to focus on the Iron Man movies, and I already have some of those chapters written out, obviously. Well, only one chapter is uploaded, but I'm working on the next few! Anyway, let me know what you thought of this chapter! Until the next one, my friends!

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#captain america x oc #captain america fanfiction #captain america #fanfiction writer #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #marvel fanfic series #marvel fanfiction #marvel oc #marvel #asgardian oc #asgard #female oc #ocs #multiple ocs #oc #female!oc #fem oc

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

I would really like to see the director's commentary on Make You See Red. I absolutely adore this version of Rick and Dee! 💕

Oh frick yes I am so excited to talk about this. Deadknight and Colonel Delphia have got to be two of my favs.

So, I don't really know where to start with this.

Basically, each of the alternate universes for Rick/Dee I like to think are catalyzed by one event going differently from the Original Recipe universe. For instance in the Criminal!Delphia universe, it's so different because Waller decided to keep Delphia imprisoned as a child. So for this universe I think the first domino to fall was that Delphia decided to join the military - which changed the events of the entire timeline.

In this piece, I really loved exploring Rick's personality and motivations. I loved talking about the death of his father and that weight that it put on his shoulders at such a young age (which is true for every version of Rick I think), the fact that he really didn't mean to become a criminal at all. He got kicked out of the military and thrown in jail for several years because he accidentally killed a man and then when he got out he just couldn't find any work. No one would hire him and he knew one thing he was actually good at was killing and roughing people up. That's what the military had trained him for. And God it's just so sad. He didn't see anything else to do and then he was too in the thick of it to get out.

But then there's Delphia!!! A badass milf that I would let step on me!! I love this version of her. I love all that hardness but also all that kindness that is still there in spite of all that killing.

Does Boomer really have a crush on her? Yes. Yes he does.

And I didn't necessarily intend this, but I love that their relationship is somehow inevitable - inescapable. They are destined to be together but only one of them knows it and she HATES that she does - she doesn't want it to happen. And I just....my heart.

They're meant to be together in every universe and I love that for them.

I would love to do more director's commentaries of my fics! Please send some more in friends!

#annie answers #ask game #directors commentary #make you see red #deadknight #colonel!delphia

[moonchild-things]

Chapter Eleven: Rain Check

Summary: Delphia Odinsdottir is the Goddess of Virtue. While stopping petty fights between her brothers, sparing with her friends, and practicing with her mother, Delphia has visions of the future. However, her once boring, uneventful life as Princess is disrupted by one of the most disturbing visions she had ever seen. Which leads her to run into a patriotic captain in red, white and blue.

Word Count: 3835 

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Yay! An update! I actually got this chapter done and the next few within a short amount of time, which means more Delphia content ^-^ This poor poor woman, we all know what's coming, I almost felt bad having to write it. But it's gotta happen :( anyway, I hope ya'll like it!

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EVERYONE GATHERED AROUND THE MAIN TABLE IN the underground bunkers. Plans had to be made about what to do going forward. Now that they had captured Zola, a larger move could be made against HYDRA. Add in the fact that Schmidt would probably also make a big move now that his lead scientist had been taken. 

“Johann Schmidt belongs in a bug house.” Colonel Phillips said, “He thinks he’s a God. He’s willing to blow up half the world to prove it, starting with the USA.”

“Schmidt’s working with powers beyond our capabilities.” Howard informed, “He gets across the Atlantic, he will wipe out the entire eastern seaboard in an hour.” 

Everyone swallowed thickly at the reminder of that. The tense atmosphere was near suffocating everyone in the room. The Howling Commandos, Peggy, Delphia, Howard, and a few other high ranking officers were sitting at the table. Other officers watched the brief from behind them, holding their breath at every piece of information that was being talked over.

“How much time we got?” Gabe Jones, a member of the Howling Commandos asked.

“According to my new best friend, under twenty four hours.” Colonel Phillips grunted.

Another member of the Commandos, Jaques Dernier then asked, “Where is he now?”

Phillips held up a photo, “Hydra’s last base is here. In the Alps. Five hundred feet below the surface.”

“So, what are we supposed to do?” Jim Morta, a third member of the howling commandos, asked, “I mean, it’s not like we can just knock on the front door.”

“Why not?” Steve asked, bringing the attention to him. From the way that his jaw was clenched and a determined expression was on his face, everyone could tell that he was ready to do anything to defeat Schmidt. With his hardened stare he said, ”That’s exactly what we’re gonna do.”

From his expression and tough tone in his voice, Delphia knew that there was going to be no way to get Steve to change his mind. Delphia wasn’t sure how things were going to go, but she was both anxious and ready to follow him in this battle.

As if Delphia was going to allow herself to be benched during this. It really was the last chance that the SSR most likely had to stop Schmidt. She would be a fool if she didn’t try to get herself involved in it. After all, she has a year worth of vengeance brewing within her that has to be served to the Red Skull. Delphia would usually scold her brothers not to be blinded by something like revenge, but she can’t help herself.

After being subjected to the torture that Schmidt had put her through, killing one of her frist Midgardian friends, and causing so much distress during this war, Delphia felt justified in her pursuit. The only thing was, she had to convince those around her to allow her to go. The most difficult person to convince would most likely be Steve.

So as everyone started to get their battle plans together, she made quick work to approach Phillips. “Colonel,” she started with a strong conviction in her tone.

The man looked up from his paperwork before handing it to someone else, “yes, Ms. Delphia.”

“I would like to help.” It wasn’t a question of whether she was helping or not. She made up her mind and that means she’s going to join them on their venture.

Phillips already knew what that meant and clicked his tongue at her with a critical eye, “I sure hope that you don’t mean to help us on the front lines.”

She tilted her head slightly, “That is exactly what I mean.”

He sighed heavily, “I understand that you want to join in on fighting these HYDRA bastards, but I’m not sure if I can allow you to come with.”

Having him already denying her claim to go with them caused her to purse her lips. This wasn’t something simple like running paperwork back and forth around the bunker like a messenger, she knew that. She also was far too aware of the fact that women were not on the front lines in this war, which she didn’t completely understand, and understood the standards. However, this was by far something different. This involved her torturer and an artifact from her own home. She would not allow herself to sit on the sidelines now of all times! “Have I not proven myself as an admirable fighter? I helped Steve retrieve the captured men of the 107th, I helped train your men in fighting techniques-”

“This is different.”

Delphia’s eyebrows twitched, “you will need all the soldiers you can get to fight this.”

“Are you a soldier?” He asked her simply.

“At times,” her answer just earned her a disbelieving scoff from Phillips. “Either way, I believe I know Schmidt more than any of your men. I can help on the ground any way they need.”

Phillips stared at her for a long moment, taking in her determined stature. “Don’t make this something I regret.” The last thing he wanted was for a young woman to get hurt on the front lines. However, she’s too stubborn to just let this go. He knows for a fact that if she would find a way to the battlefield behind his back. As she has done that previously. It was better to make sure that she was safe within their view than going behind their back to join. Even if she was a bit of a charity case in Phillips' eyes, he wouldn’t want to see her get caught up in this in the wrong way.

As he walked away, Delphia felt herself smile triumphantly. It surprisingly was much easier to talk her way into getting involved in this than she originally thought. She figured she would have to plead her case more to him about joining. Perhaps she had proven herself to him to an extent, or he just knew that she was going to join regardless of what he said. Either way, Delphia was more than happy.

“You’re coming on the mission?”

Delphia spun around at the sudden voice. It was Steve who stared at her with increasing worry growing on his face. She nodded, “Yes. Colonel Phillips agreed with my proposal.”

“Proposal?” He chuckled lightly, “I feel like it was more of a demand than anything.”

She just shrugged her shoulders bashfully, “Well, I suppose that I was going to join no matter what…”

Steve shook his head as a serious expression consumed his face. “Delphia, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I will stay safe,” She stated plainly, “I have done well enough to do that so far.”

He just shook his head in denial, “You weren’t on the field like this, Delphia. 

“I am not a fragile little girl, like you might think.”

“Delphia. I don’t think that you’re fragile.” Steve quickly explained. By no means did he think she was fragile, at least not in the sense that she might be thinking. She’s fragile to him in the way that she was precious to him. So of course he wouldn’t want to have her in any sort of danger. There was a short silence between them as Steve took a moment to build up the courage to say what he wanted. He placed a hand on her cheek, caressing it tenderly. The two stared into each other’s eyes, bright blue clashing with warm hazel. He made sure to portray the raw emotion that he was feeling in this moment to her through just his gaze. “I care for you. The last thing I want is to see you hurt.”

As much as she loved the sentiment from him of keeping her safe, Delphia had heard enough of it. She blinked slowly, “Even when I am away from the prying eyes of my family, I still am controlled. I would not argue with you, if I did not know what I was doing. However, with something like this. I’m not sitting by. I want to fight. I want to fight with you. You will not change my mind.” Ever since she had started to get her visions she had been constantly surveyed no matter what she did. In her home, on her trips(which were minimal), or even while she was in her own chambers. Just to make sure that she wasn’t in any sort of danger at all. Midgard wasn’t completely different, however, she appreciated it to an extent. This was a land that she did not know all too well, so she appreciated being monitored and kept safe. However, something like this was going to be different. Those around her might not like it but there was no changing her mind.

Steve shook his head at the determined expression on her face. He just knew that she wasn’t going to change her mind. Through the way that she was quite headstrong about something like fighting alongside them was something that Steve found quite… attractive. He couldn’t help himself but chuckle, “You’re quite the stubborn woman.”

“You would not have me any other way,” Delphia said, almost playfully despite her serious tone.

“That’s true.”

It was as if a spark was lit just in that moment. With the combination of the largest battle that they’ve had just on the horizon and their relationship developing into something more intimate, the moment seemed right. So the two leaned in slowly before their lips met. The kiss between them was soft and almost awkward, but perfect for them. Steve was slightly clumsy with how he pressed up against her as Delphia was unsure where to put her hands. However, it was still sweet in their eyes. Maybe it wasn’t the right moment for it to happen, as both of them would rather have this romantic moment without the impending fight looming over them. Though it was still wonderful. 

It’s been quite some time since Delphia had her last kiss, but this felt so much different from the ones in the past. Her brothers had scared off most suitors of hers when they were younger, and even now, so the secretive kisses she had gotten in were long ago and nothing too special. Though with Steve… It just felt so explosive, so right to her in that moment.

As they slowly pulled back from each other, neither knew what to say after such a mind numbing kiss. Truthfully, nothing else had to be said. They had explained all of their feelings in that kiss. After all, what else could they say to express their feelings at this moment. So this amazing moment allowed the two to bask in their peacefulness. The calm before the storm, and how splendid that was.

“You ready?” Peggy asked her friend as she primed her weapon.

“For a good fight?” Delphia asked as she smirked, “Always.” She also was given a weapon, as they couldn’t have her unarmed. A small pistol was given to her. Delphia isn’t one for guns or weapons in general, usually relying on her magic when on the battlefield. However, it wasn’t like she could use that here. Last thing she needs is people questioning her abilities.

Delphia waited alongside Phillips and Peggy as they watched from the treeline. Their plan was quite simple and most likely extremely effective. Using Steve as bait to get into the facility, taking out as many men as he could and creating an entry point for the forces outside was impressive. Of course, Steve seemed to make it as flashy as he could. Then again he couldn’t not be flashy in his Captain America attire.

“For a good fight?” Delphia asked as she smirked, “Always.”

The radio that Colonel Phillips had crackled to life, “We’re in, assault team go!”

Phillips nodded his head, “Move out!”

Finally the signal came, and everyone on the outside was ready to fight their way inward. The SSR soldiers all swarmed the base. They fired their guns against the HYDRA agents who retaliated with their own tesseract powered weapons. There were men who were falling on both sides.

“Cut off one head, two more shall…” The soldier started to say but was cut off when Phillips shot him.

“Let’s go find two more!” Phillips shouted out as they ran in. So all the men scattered around the base, finding HYDRA men and killing them. Storming the base seemed somewhat easy as their enemy was not expecting such a harsh ambush.

Just as she was rounding a corner with Peggy and the group of men she entered with, Delphia saw a line of actual fire being shot at Steve. Though Peggy made quick work of dealing with that soldier as she just gunned him down.

Steve blinked and turned to find the group “You’re late.”

“Maybe you were early.” Delphia shrugged before pointing towards the shield wedged in the doorway. “I believe you have to…”

Steve nodded his head, “Right.” He then took off after Schmidt with his impressive speed.

They all came running into the main hangar area. Chaos was everywhere, no matter where Delphia looked. Shots were being fired, bodies were disintegrated, and men were shouting. She knew that her brothers would just love to see such a battle. Well, more of Thor, he was always the more violent and battle-centric brother. 

“Delphia!” Peggy’s sudden voice called out drawing her attention. She turned to find that Peggy was in one of Schmidts cars, Phillips at the wheel, “In here!”

She made quick work of jumping into the vehicle next to Peggy in the backseat. The car then peeled away as soon as she set foot in the vehicle. They drove out towards the hangar to see a large aircraft trying to take off. Also in front of them was their very own Captain America.

Phillips pulled the car up right next to him, “Get in!”

So he jumped into the front passenger seat hastily. The car sped quickly across the hangar to try and catch up with the plane. Phillips then pushed a nitro button of the car, increasing the speed significantly. They then came close enough to the large wheel of the plane thanks to that speed boost. Steve stood up, ready to try his best to get onto that plane at any cost.

“Steven!” Delphia called out above the sound of the wind and engines around them. He turned to her quickly as she pulled him down, and planted a brief kiss on lips. Had he been in a less intense situation, that might have short circuited his mind. Though despite how amazing it might have felt for even the briefest of kisses with her, he had a duty. In his daze he glanced over at Phillips and Peggy. The colonel looked slightly uncomfortable while Peggy appeared smug, as if she had just won a bet.

“I’m not kissin’ you!” Phillips yelled over the wind.

Peggy flashed him a smile, “Good luck!”

With one last lingering look between Delphia and Steve, Captain America climbed his way onto the hood of the car. From there, he jumped just at the last second to grab onto the wheel of the plane. The final battle between him and Schmidt was about to happen, and he was going to make sure that this ended here and now.

As Steve climbed away. Delphia saw the end of the tarmac coming worryingly fast. So Delphia thought quickly. While she had thought she wouldn’t do this while on Midgard, the circumstances called for it. She conjured her seiðr to save the car before it flew off the edge and into the abyss below. She whipped around and allowed white tendrils of brightly white magic come out of her hands that made quick work of digging into the ground behind the car. It effectively slowed the car down and caused it to come to a skidding halt. It was barely just in time as the car nearly tattered off the edge of the cliff. A part of Delphia just hoped that neither Peggy or Phillips noticed her save. That was something that she did not want to have to explain. She told herself when she was first captured by Schmidt that she wouldn’t use her magic in fear that it would just fuel his manic personality and the experiments on her. 

Maybe they would chalk it up to a trick of the eye or their imagination acting up, perhaps. Though if either Phillips or Peggy actually noticed the tendrils that grabbed the ground to stop the car, they didn’t comment on it. That could have been due to the fact that their attention was aimed towards the plane as it flew away.

Delphia stared up and watched as the large plane started to fly away. She could barely spy Steve hanging onto the wheel as it was retracted back into the plane. So the end was starting to begin, and she couldn’t be happier about that.

“We’ve secured the base,” Peggy started to inform as she joined Delphia in the communications room along with Jim Morta. “Most HYDRA soldiers are either dead or surrendered and we’ve started looking over what other weapons that they have.” Delphia didn’t even seem to react much to Peggy’s words as she nodded her head absentmindedly. Her thoughts were obviously focused on other matters. Just by looking at the expression on Delphia’s face, Peggy knew how anxious she was. Though she couldn't say that she also wasn’t nervous about Steve. “He’s a strong man, he’ll come back.”

“I hope,” Delphia said through a shaky breath. A thoughtful expression was on her face for just a moment. She was contemplating on her next few words, but before she could filter herself correctly she just started speaking. “Even during my childhood when I joined my brothers in fighting, I never had the dread of losing someone in battle.” It was true. She knew that her brothers and friends were resilient enough to fight and were quite durable to many different things. However, Midgardians are far more fragile than them. The smallest of things could cause a Midgardian to die. She sighed heavily, “Perhaps that was the blissful ignorance of a young woman not knowing the true consequences of war. This… It fills me with dread.”

To be honest, Peggy didn’t completely know what Delphia was talking about. She had been in battle before? While Peggy would say that she also has while being a field agent, she didn’t think that Delphia was the type of woman to do so. Though some would say the same for her. Even still, childhood? That seemed far-fetched. However, even then she understood the idea of having to come to terms with having to come to terms with the thought of losing people. Peggy had to accept it after brother had passed due to fighting in the war. He was a wonderful man, an amazing brother, brave soldier, and a death that Peggy never knew she would have to experience.

Delphia paced back and forth with Peggy watching her. The two were anxious about Steve’s whereabouts, with Delphia starting to panic only slightly. She had seen in her vision what more or less happened on that plane. Schmidt would be consumed by the tesseract and disappear, leaving Steve the victor. However, why was it taking too long? What had she not seen the other night in her vision?

As she was growing more and more upset, the radio started to spark to life as a voice came through the static. “Come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?”

“Captain Rogers,” Jim, who was sitting at the radio controls, let out a sigh of relief, “what is your…” 

At the sound of his voice, Delphia rushed over to the microphone and took the man’s spot. “Steven? Are you alright?”

“Delphia!” The tension in his voice disappeared, obviously happy to know that she was safe. “Schmidt’s dead.”

A smile crawled onto her face at that piece of news, “Thank the Norns. What about you? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay, but the plane…” He trailed off anxiously, “I’m gonna have to put her in the water.”

It was as if a bucket of ice cold water had been poured over Delphia. A crash landing? Even if certain Midgardian technology still confused her to a certain extent, she knew that planes would not survive a crash where he was. Delphia shook her head, “We can find a safe place for you to land. Howard can help, I am sure of it.”

“There’s not enough time.” Steve denied, “This thing’s moving too fast and it’s heading for New York.” 

“Steven…” Her heart started to tighten as the outlook of this situation became more bleak. “There must be something we can do.”

“Right now I’m in the middle of nowhere.” He explained, “If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die. Delphia, this is my choice.” Even if he were in the plane, oh so far away from her, he knew that she had to be close to tears, just like he was. The last thing he wanted to do was to die during this war after just having met Delphia not too long ago and admitting their feelings. However, he has no choice. He pulled out the compass with the photo of her. He wanted her vibrant smile to be the last thing he saw. The joy that she brought to him with just a simple look needed to be what would keep him calm enough during this. He called out one last time, “Delphia?”

“Yes?”

“I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance.”

“Of course, you name a time, a place,” Delphia let out a weak, watery chuckle, “I will be there.”

“You got it. You know, I still don’t know how to dance.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the statement, “I can teach you. Even if I am not the best either.” 

“We’ll have the band play somethin’ slow.” Steve said, ignoring his impending doom in that moment, “I’d hate to step on your-'' The abrupt end to his words brought dread into Delphia’s stomach. It felt like a rock weighing her down as the reality was slowly bleeding into her mind.

“Steven?” Delphia called out into the static, “Steven? Please?” Peggy placed a comforting hand on a shell-shock Delphia’s shoulder. She could do nothing but begin to cry. The man that she loved had sacrificed himself for the greater good. How she wished that did not have to happen. She hated this, with all her spirit. She hates being on Midgard, it’s brought her nothing but heartache. All she can do now is hang on to Peggy as the two begin to cry at their loss. The loss of a great man. The loss of Captain America. The loss of the Midgardian man that Delphia loved.

---

AHH we're almost there! Only two more chapters to go! After this, technically the next installment in this little 'Revival Universe' of mine will be 'A Change of Heart' which is the Iron Man 1 fanfic that's already got one chapter up. After that I'm thinking of just doing Iron Man 2 straight after and then Thor! Honestly, I have such a big idea of what I want to try and write when it comes to Marvel and these ocs I've created. Is it a little over my head? Perhaps, but that isn't gonna stop me. I love writing!!! Anyway, until the next chapter, my friends!

Blog Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#ocs #oc #fanfiction #multiple ocs #fanfic #female oc #female!oc #captain america x oc #captain america fanfiction #captain america #steve #steve x oc #steve rogers x oc #marvel #marvel oc #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic series

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

❤️ Multiverse Ask: How would your ocs react to meeting one another 👀 Any fandom, ultimate crossover! ❤️ (ps: if you ever feel like you need to take a break, then you should! if writing stops being fun for you, it stops being fun for us! i am very grateful for the content you have put out into the world already and hope you find that spark to create again! good luck! 😊)

I'm gonna respond to the ps first because it is seriously so sweet and you are too sweet anon, seriously. Thank you so much for this. I think I may take a longer hiatus after the Christmas Spectacular is over. Just to...get everything in order and actually take my time with things and put out the best content that I can.

Okay, now I'll go into my OCs meeting one another! I have a few thoughts!

1. This reminds me of back when I used to write for Pedro Pascal characters (I had a Mandalorian and Game of Thrones OC). they both struggled with motherhood and infertility and I always dreamed about the two of them meeting and being best friends. I even almost wrote this piece where they became pen pals across the galaxies.

2. I would love a Marvel and DC crossover! I think the concept of the Justice League and the Avengers existing in the same universe but they never interact is hilarious. So I think Delphia (DC OC) and Rose (Marvel OC) meeting would be fun. I don't necessarily think they would get along, Rose doesn't like anybody except like two people lol But I think after a while, they would see eye to eye. Delphia would win her over with baked goods and her competence (which is key for Rose).

3. So this is a preview of a WIP I have! So y'all know all those different versions of Delphia that I have? Original Recipe, Criminal, and Colonel? Yeah they're gonna meet.

#annie answers #anon ask #thank you so much for this #i really needed it #delphia holman #rose rigby #criminal!delphia #colonel!delphia

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

Here is a masterlist for everything in this little world I've created! Where everyone lived and they all live together now. Because I'm in denial and also found family is a good trope. This includes an OFC of my own creation named Delphia Holman that is in a relationship with Rick Flag. In this universe, she and Flag have started up basically a halfway house for previous members of the Suicide Squad.

Currently requests are CLOSED (as of 10/26/21) for this universe, if you wanna send some into my ask box! I don't write smut so please none of that! But I'll take anything involving the squad family, an au, stuff that happened before Rick and Dee got together, anything!

On here, I am gonna try to put these in chronological order and include the next installments that are in progress, marked with an * (to keep myself accountable) so hopefully, it'll all make sense one day.

If you're wanting to start reading these in order I suggest reading If I Go, I'm Goin Crazy pt. 1 (first piece I wrote in this series) up until Delphia bumps into Rick in the hallway in order to get enough context for the rest of it!

Helpful Things:

A Quick Guide to the Squad Fam and Their Jobs

If I Go Universe:

April 2014 - The Night We Met

January 2015 - Greatest What If

June 2015 - Violence Be Gentle

June 2015 - Sorrow Be Kind

September 2016 - If I Go, I'm Goin' Crazy pt. 1

September 2016 - Is This Our First Date?

October 2016 - Miscommunication

December 2016 - 165th's Reunion Special

March 2017 - Birthday Breakfast

May 2017 - Move In With Me

December 2017 - Merry Christmas, Rick Flag

October 2018 - Greatest What If pt. 2

November 2018 - Sunburned Holiday

December 2019 - Frosty's Ugly Cousin

July 2021 - If I Go, I'm Goin' Crazy pt. 2

August 2021 - Finding the House

September 2021 - Take a Sick Day

October 2021 - Do The Monster Mash

November 2021 - Tapper's Arcade Bar

December 2021 - Snowball Fight!

December 2021 - Arose Such a Clatter

December 2021 - Merry Christmas, Squad

January 2022 - Girl's Day

February 2022 - Sebastian Knows

March 2022 - Let's Empty the Animal Shelter

April 2022 - If I Go, I'm Goin' On Fire pt. 1

April 2022 - If I Go, I'm Goin' On Fire pt. 2

April 2022 - If I Go, I'm Goin' On Fire pt. 3

May 2022 - Nightmares

June 2022 - Wedding Day

July 2022 - The Birthday Boy

January to September 2022 - Snippets of a Pregnancy

October 2022 - Losing Each Other In a Corn Maze

October 2022 - Dreams Come True

December 2022 - We're All Getting Coal

August 2023 - Baby's Day Out

2016 | 2019 | 2023 - Tattoos All In Black

December 2028 - Mommy Kissin' Santa Claus

Headcanons:

Splashin Safari

TaskForceX!Delphia AU:

Headcanons

i am not a woman, i'm a god

i am not a woman, i'm a god pt. 2

Breaking the News

Tattoo/Flower Shop AU:

Roses Are Red

Santa's Mailbox

Deadknight AU:

Make You See Red

Milk and Cookies

#rick flag #rick flag imagine #rick flag x oc #rick flag x delphia holman #the suicide squad #suicide squad imagine #suicide squad fic #found family #if i go universe #colonel rick flag #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #rick flag fic #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman imagine #suicide squad x oc #suicide squad fanfiction #suicide squad fanfic #dceu oc #dceu imagine #dceu fanfiction #dceu fanfic #dceu fic

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

If I Go Universe - Tattoos All In Black (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: Rick has several tattoos, but there are three that he is particularly fond of.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 2320

Warnings: language, the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff, too much love maybe, breastfeeding stuff

Timeline: 2016 | 2019 | 2023

if i go masterlist

2016

The mission had been a brutal one. Many team members died, they still failed despite their best efforts, and Rick had been injured — a stab wound to his side that had left Delphia sitting at the edge of her seat in the control room.

He was back home now, stitched up and resting in bed. Delphia had made sure to make him a healthy dinner, bringing it to bed for him. He smacked her hands away with a grin when she tried to spoon feed him, telling her he was fully capable of doing this bit himself. After she cleaned up the kitchen, she went back to the bedroom and put on one of his favorite movies. But neither of them really paid attention to the screen. As soon as she laid down beside him, Rick was pulling her to practically lay on top of him — right hand tracing over her back as he closed his eyes.

His left arm was propped up behind his head, keeping him in an upright position. Delphia’s eyes danced over his face, thanking whatever was out there that he was back home with her and safe. He was nearly like a renaissance panting. The way his muscles curved and caught the light, her eyes were simply drawn to follow. To trace the curve of his strong neck, down across his collarbone that she loved to kiss, up his tricep to his —

“What the fuck is that?”

Delphia scooted up his chest, eyebrows furrowed and mouth dropped open in confusion. He had a new tattoo. The skin surrounding the black ink was still pink and irritated. And it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever seen in her life.

“What? What?” Rick’s eyes suddenly snapped open, looking around the room like there was a threat he needed to eliminate.

She poked him in the arm, right on the tattoo that was so fresh it made him wince. “That! What the fuck is that!”

Still confused, he looked towards his inner arm and immediately blushed, eyes shifting to understanding as he looked over at her sheepishly. He had to admit, it wasn’t the best tattoo he had ever gotten. SKWAD in stark black ink, crooked letters and shaky lines, was now splattered across his inner bicep.

“A tattoo?” He tried to play it off.

“Uh — no, no, this is a new tattoo. When the hell did you get it and why?”

Delphia was not backing down, as he should have guessed she would. She got nose to skin with the tattoo and then looked over at him like he had lost his mind. The comedy of it was not lost on either of them, as giggles began to bubble out of each of their mouths.

“We had — We had some — “ Rick tried to speak around his laughter, coughed, then tried again. “We had some down time on the mission, got kinda drunk. Lawson practically dragged me into a tattoo shop and gave it to me.”

“Deadshot? Deadshot gave you this tattoo?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, my God.” She looked back at it with a dumbfounded smile. “He didn’t even spell it right.”

Rick’s brow furrowed as he finally craned his neck to get a good look at his new ink. Something he had apparently not done until just now. He groaned loudly as he looked at it clearly for the first time, smoothing his fingers over the flesh and then flopping back onto his pillow.

“Son of a bitch.”

Laughing so hard there were literal tears streaming down her face, Delphia rolled onto her back beside him. Her legs tangled up in the sheets, her arms crooked up at her chest as she hid her face in her pillow. Trying so very hard to stop laughing but finding that she couldn’t. The situation was just too good to be true. Rick got drunk, let a criminal give him a tattoo, and hadn’t even taken the time to look at what had been permanently marked on his body until just now.

“God, that’s so fucking funny,” Delphia sighed as her laughter reduced to sparse giggles, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“You are such a little shit,” Rick chuckled as he pinched her side, forcing her to scramble away from him to the edge of the bed.

“What? I’m not the one who got something put on my body forever by a master assassin!” She smacked at his hand as he tried to pinch her again.

Rick lifted his arm and looked at the tattoo again with a sigh. “I still like it though. Reminds me of everybody we’ve lost. Keeps ‘em alive in some way.”

Delphia’s expression softened. “I can’t make fun of you for that.”

“Come over here,” Rick said with a smile, opening up his arms to her.

She instantly dove into him, snuggled into his uninjured side. Just like how she was always supposed to be.

2019

Delphia woke up to the smell of bacon and pancakes. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, the warm summer sun streaming in through their bedroom window. It was one of those mornings where she really didn’t want to get out of bed. The past week was tough at work. Waller was extra cranky and extra demanding, nearly pushing Delphia to the brink of tears even though her assistant was entirely used to her attitude. But despite the blankets pulling her in like quicksand, she managed to pull herself from the mattress and wander her way into the kitchen.

Rick was standing at the stove wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and nothing else. The sunlight from the living room window was splashed across his back, making his tan skin seem to glow in an ethereal sort of way that made her sigh. The muscles of his back worked this way and that as he flipped the pancakes and turned out the bacon. The man loved his breakfast food — always made sure she ate one before work. And today was no exception.

“Mornin’, baby girl,” his gruff, sleep soaked voice called to her over his shoulder.

“Good morning,” she whispered back as she tiptoed further into the space.

She was drawn to him like a moth to the flame. Knowing it would be the death of her but honestly? What a beautiful way to go. She didn’t go for the coffee like her body desperately craved, instead she went straight to Rick. Wrapped her arms around his torso and squeezed him so tight it made a chuckle burst out of his lips.

“That rough, huh?” he asked, smoothing one large hand over her forearm as he checked the underside of the pancakes currently cooking.

All she could do was nod against his spine. She vaguly remembered coming home late from a meeting the night before. Rick forced her to eat something, she couldn’t even recall what, before collapsing into bed. Waller really had been testing her limits all week long. But it was done now. She no longer had to think about it. At least for another forty-eight hours, they were both free of Belle Reve.

It was comforting to feel the heat of Rick’s skin beneath her cheek, like a furnace burning in her arms. She made a noise nearly like a purr as she burrowed herself deeper into him, hands coming up to scratch lightly at his chest. Her eyes opened after a moment, content and relaxed for what felt like the first time in a long time.

And that was when she spotted it.

There, on his left shoulder, was her name scrawled across his skin in permanent ink. It had never looked so beautiful. As she looked at it, her heart was beginning to feel like it was too big for her chest — tears welled up in her eyes as her eye danced over the swirling letters. He really did love her, didn’t he? Loved her enough to have her name on him forever. Not even in a place he could see but so that everyone else would know that she had him, body and soul. With a breath to control her emotions, mostly her tears, she unhooked an arm from around his waist and brought the tips of her fingers up to trace the tattoo.

“This one’s new,” she whispered, sounding breathless.

Rick looked over his shoulder, a grin quirking his lips and one eyebrow raised.

“Like it?” he asked.

“I love it.” With a grin she planted a kiss between his shoulder blades. “You’re too sweet to me, Colonel Flag.”

“I don’t think I could ever be sweet enough, baby girl.”

2023

Infant wails rang through the midnight air. Delphia stirred in her deep slumber, brain barely able to register that her son was crying in his room down the hall. But soon enough, her body was kicking her into gear — swollen breasts leaking at the sound of her child calling out to her.

“Ah, shit,” she mumbled as she sat up in bed, blearily rubbing at her eyes.

For a moment she was confused. Rick wasn’t in bed. The covers on his side of the bed were thrown back and an indent left in his pillow where his head should be. She touched the sheets, wondering where he could’ve gone, and they were still warm. He hadn’t been up for long. Leo’s cries echoed anew, somehow louder and more distinct, and Delphia finally pulled herself from bed. He was probably hungry. At three months old he was guzzling down milk like it was his job. Which it kind of was. He was a big baby, a “chunky monkey” as Harley liked to call him, and he was only going to get bigger. He was healthy and strong and slept through the night and honestly Delphia and Rick couldn’t have asked for a better son.

Delphia thumped down the hall, still trying to rub the sleep from her eyes, but when she rounded the corner into the nursery she stopped. She couldn’t go a single step further, even though her breasts ached to feed her baby, because the sight before her was just too sweet.

Rick stood in his briefs by the large windows that overlooked the backyard, curtains pulled back to reveal the dark night sky. He held Leo close to his chest, swaying back and forth to try and get him to stop crying and go back to sleep. His efforts were valiant, but to no avail — Leo continued to wriggle and scream. Leo was a big baby, but he looked so tiny wrapped up in his father’s arms.

“Come on, big guy, your momma’s gotta get some sleep,” Rick muttered as he continued to rock and bounce the baby.

“Momma’s already awake,” Delphia spoke quietly as she walked further into the room.

Rick turned to her with apologetic eyes. “Sorry, baby girl. I tried.”

“S’okay — you don’t have the boobs he’s looking for.”

She smiled up at him softly as she pulled Leo out of his grasp, his open, crying mouth already seeking out her nipple to latch on to. Shushing him, she lowered herself into the recliner in the corner. She lifted up her damp shirt and Leo latched onto her breast easily. She remembered with dread those first few weeks where getting him to breast feed was a herculean task. But now it was as easy as breathing for both of them. Leo’s cries slowly turned to whimpers as he drank from her greedily.

“He did try it with me, though,” he said as he watched them.

Delphia looked up from Leo’s chubby cheeked face and smiled. “Really? Would’ve liked to see that.”

Rick chuckled softly with a shake of his head. “Mind if I stay?”

“Course not, baby.”

He settled down on the floor, back leaned against the recliner next to her legs, with a quiet groan. She remembered too, during the beginning when feeding Leo made her cry in frustration nearly every single time, that Rick always wanted to be there. He would grumble at her when she wouldn’t wake him up in the middle of the night for a feeding. He knew he couldn’t help much, but he wanted to be there in case she needed anything. She remembered him telling her once that as she struggled to get Leo to latch, as those frustrated tears streamed down her face and their son cried, he had never felt so useless in his entire life. So now, even when everything was routine and practically effortless, he still liked to be near when she breastfed.

Delphia watched her son for a moment, a tired smile crooking her lips as she let his little fingers wrap around one of her own. His grip was tight for only being three months old. A trait from his dad she had to guess. At that thought, she looked at the back of Rick’s head.

His hair was a mess, all tussled from sleep. One of his knees was bent, arm propped up on it as he gazed out the window to the stars outside. And it was there, bathed in pale moonlight, that she saw Leo’s name freshly tattooed into his right shoulder. It was simple and clean and purposefully placed near the top crest of his shoulder just in case there were more names to add.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she pulled her fingers from Leo’s grasp and traced the letters inked into her husband’s skin. Followed the line of each stroke and line. He didn’t flinch when she touched him. Rick simply turned his head to look at her with an earnestness and love that she felt right down to her very bones. It was the three of them now. Together — always.

“I love you, Rick Flag,” she whispered to him.

“Love you too, Dee.”

Taglist (if you would like to be tagged in future installments just let me know!): @bbygrgu @a-reader-and-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16 @runic-belova @weallhaveadestiny @oopsiedoopsie23 @nerdgrrlramblings @ocfairygodmother @reysorigins @hawsx3

#rick flag #colonel rick flag #rick flag x oc #rick flag x delphia holman #rick flag imagine #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #rick flag fic #suicide squad #the suicide squad #suicide squad x oc #suicide squad imagine #suicide squad fanfiction #suicide squad fanfic #suicide squad fic #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman imagine #dceu oc #dceu x oc #dceu imagine #dceu fanfiction #dceu fanfic #dceu fic #ocappreciation

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

@loverhymeswith asked: Ok I have a request ☺️ I would love to know how Rick and Delphia meet for the very first time! 💕

If I Go Universe - The Night We Met (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: Task Force X is finally getting it's feet off the ground, and Delphia is introduced to its first commanding officer: Colonel Rick Flag. Sparks instantly fly between them. But Delphia always had the bad habit of looking into the futures of people she has a crush on.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 4185

Warnings: language, fluff, a pinch of angst, yearning/pining/swooning, not necessarily a meet cute but they're cute and they're meeting

Timeline: April 2014

if i go masterlist

Delphia set down the little cactus on the top right corner of her desk, then she stared at it with a sigh and her chin resting in her hand. The poor plant had seen better days. There was tape and a toothpick keeping one of the arms on and there was a slight dent in the top. She supposed that was what happened when you moved to three different offices in the span of a year. You got a little dinged up along the way.

At least this office was better than ARGUS. There she had actually had to share an office space with Waller and that was never fun. The woman was a yeller when people weren’t giving her what she wanted and frankly, it made Delphia’s ears ring. But now, at Belle Reve, in the newly built administrative wing, she had her very own office.

Well, kind of. She had, at the very least, a desk in the waiting area for Waller’s office. And to Delphia that most definitely counted. The walls were a drab shade of light grey and there were a few cushioned wooden chairs along the walls. Her desk faced the door so she could greet Waller’s appointments and get them seated to wait for her, and Waller’s heavy wooden door was to her left.

Delphia readjusted the cactus one last time so she couldn’t see the broken arm, a way to lessen her guilt about breaking the plant her boss had given her. She wondered how long they were going to stay at this place. She assumed at least a few years. This entire project was Waller’s baby, an idea she had nurtured and planned through to the last detail. And each of those details she made Delphia look into the future over, just to make sure the procedures worked and that they were hiring the right people. So far everything was going well. But then again, they hadn’t even introduced the actual criminals into Task Force X yet.

The emergency phone over by the door suddenly ringing made Delphia jump in her seat. With a hand to her heart, she got up from her chair to answer it. The phone on her desk hadn’t been hooked up to the landline yet, which made Waller furious. So for now everyone was to use the emergency phones that in the future were to only be used to call the penitentiary security.

“Amanda Waller’s office,” Delphia answered the phone, shoulder leaned against the wall.

“Hey, yeah, this is Waits at the front gate. We’ve got a Colonel Flag who says he has an appointment with Ms. Waller.”

“Oh, yes, he’s her ten o’clock. Go ahead and let him in and we’ll pick him up from the waiting room. Thanks, Waits.”

“No problem, ma’am. See you in a few.”

“Yes, see you.”

She replaced the phone on the receiver with a clack. Another problem that made Waller exceptionally angery: the administration parking lot and entrance weren’t complete yet so all guests and staff still had to use the highly guarded and complicated main entrance to the prison. Delphia sighed and made her way over to Waller’s closed office door, rapping her knuckles on the wood lightly.

“Amanda? Your ten o’clock is here,” she said.

Waller yanked open the door and Delphia jumped back from the threshold as she walked through. “Who is that again?”

“Colonel Richard Flag, candidate for the commanding officer position.” Delphia handed Waller the file from her desk as they headed towards the door. “Current special forces. Had a run in with a metahuman in the Yucatan and was transferred to ARGUS.”

“Hmm, go ahead and set up conference room D. I’ll walk him up alone — get a read on him. He’s the one you said would be most successful, right?” Waller stopped in the hallway, file tucked under her arm.

Delphia shrugged. “Potentially.”

“At this point, I’ll take potentially,” Waller sighed, “Make sure my powerpoint’s up and ready when we get there.”

“You got it.”

The two women went their separate ways. Delphia walked down the long hallway, the walls still unpainted and some light switches still being wired. But at least conference room D was complete and already filled with the proper furnishings. If it wasn’t, she was sure Waller would’ve had somebody's head about not having a room to meet in.

Humming quietly to herself, Delphia made sure that the powerpoint was already up on the TV screen and the clicker was on and working for Waller to use. Then she set out a notepad and pen at the conference table, just in case the Colonel wanted to write down any notes or questions. And lastly she set up her own laptop at one of the chairs along the wall so she could take ample notes throughout the course of the interview for Waller to go over later. A common routine as of late, considering the Colonel was the third man they were going to interview for this position. Not that the other candidates hadn’t been good, they all just got spooked at what they were trying to do here. And Delphia really couldn’t blame them.

The idea of the Task Force was insane and had a high possibility of not working. But Waller was sure that her plan would work. As long as they had a good and highly skilled commanding officer on their side.

And Waller really didn’t understand why Delphia couldn’t just tell her who they were going to hire. Delphia tried to tell her, multiple times, that that just wasn’t how it worked. The flow of time was vague and interpreting its outcomes was a crapshoot at best. If there was a full plan and guarantees, then yes, conclusions were easy to see. But this was vague, too many variables at play. When she looked into the future of the Task Force, using what little information they had, all of her visions were transparent and glimmering. Not solid and realistic like most of her visions were. At this point, the timeline branched off in too many directions for her to see which one was the true path. It frustrated Waller that her psychic was so unhelpful in this situation, but Delphia could only shrug it off as time being a finicky little bitch.

The door to the conference room opened and Delphia immediately got to her feet, straightening out her skirt so she looked as professional as possible in front of the Colonel. Waller walked through the door first.

“Thank you,” she said.

And then Delphia’s heart stopped.

Or maybe it was going too fast? She really couldn’t tell. All she did know was that was not how she expected Colonel Flag to look. She thought a man much older would be walking through that door, having convinced herself that the photograph included in his file was dated. But clearly it was not. He was tall, broad, and as tan as the sun was long. He was wearing his combat uniform, SPECIAL FORCES stamped onto the left breast pocket. Her eyes widened as they trailed up his frame and landed on his face. The expression he wore was jovial despite how hard his exterior seemed to be, but she couldn’t deny the beauty in it. Even with the severe military cut and slightly ridiculous goutee and mustache. Their eyes caught, and Delphia looked back to the floor quickly. She needed to get a grip, he wasn’t that cute.

She glanced back up at him one last time. Oh, Jesus, maybe he was that cute.

“Colonel Flag, this is my assistant, Delphia Holman,” Waller introduced.

Flag stuck out his hand first, giant and calloused. Delphia wrapped her own, smaller hand around it tentatively. His handshake was firm and it hurt slightly when she pulled away. But she couldn’t help but linger on how warm his skin felt, how it felt like electricity shot up her arm when he touched her. She flexed her hand at her side, an attempt to get a sense of normalcy back to her fingertips, and she hoped that no one noticed.

She cleared her throat. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” He smiled at her, a small boyish grin that had her cheeks flaring. The slight southern drawl of his deep voice caught her off guard. “Delphia — where’s that from?”

“It’s — uh — it’s Greek.”

“Never heard it before.”

“Most people haven’t — my dad did some archeological work in Delphi, so he thought it was appropriate.”

“I agree with him.” Flag grinned again and Delphia thought it was way too hot in that conference room. “Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

Delphia’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Jesus Christ. Her tongue felt too big in her mouth. Her insides felt heavy like stones. Her face and neck were on fire. And he was just looking at her with that little grin, and suddenly his tongue poked out to lick his bottom lip as he huffed out a laugh. It was like she was standing too close to the sun, caught in it’s orbit, she wanted to get away in fear of getting burned but it was too warm to leave.

“Colonel Flag, you can take a seat,” Waller suddenly said from behind the podium, “Delphia’s only here to take notes.”

Right. Waller was here. They were in a conference room attached to a prison full of the world’s worst. For a moment there, it felt like all of that had disappeared.

“Yeah, just — er — pretend I’m not here.” Delphia retreated away from him and back to her chair.

She caught eyes with Waller, who gave her a raised eyebrow look. Delphia only smiled tensely back.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Delphia sunk into her seat thankfully, resisting the urge to fan at her hot skin as she placed her laptop in her lap. She stole one last glance at the Colonel as Waller started her presentation. He was completely focused on the screen behind Waller. Fingers crossed together in his lap and brow slightly furrowed as he paid attention. It was too much to look at him, overwhelming with thoughts of that hand wrapped around hers and those lips quirked in a grin. Delphia shook her head and looked back down to the blank document open on her screen.

She really needed to focus.

Waller had come back from the interview the day before without even needing to look at Delphia’s notes. Colonel Rick Flag was perfect for the role and actually willing to take it. Delphia had to wonder why, though. Had he grown weary of his placement in the military? Was he looking for something new and challenging? Maybe that was it. She had to imagine that no one who didn’t like skimming too close to death and driving themselves nearly mad would take this position. But Flag thought he could make it work, and Waller was over the moon that somebody finally said yes.

So Colonel Rick Flag was invited back for a second interview the following day. And Delphia really couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled in her chest at the prospect of seeing him again, of seeing him every day at work for that matter.

As she went home that night and made her meal and went about going to bed, her mind constantly wandered to those few moments they shared together. To what it might be like to see each other in the halls, get coffee at the same time in the breakroom, or even attend meetings together where they may by chance sit next to one another. It felt stupid and childish but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t stop wondering if maybe, just maybe, he was having similar emotions — wherever he was.

Delphia sat at her desk, typing up an outline of how a meeting Waller had next week with the Lousiana Senator was going to go. Including exactly what the Senator was going to say and how he was going to respond. A defined and solid moment in time because Delphia knew the subject matter and everything about who was going to be attending the meeting.

The emergency phone ringing across the room made her jump out of her skin again.

She rushed to answer it and said, “Amanda Waller’s office.”

“Yep, Waits at the front gate here. Colonel Flag is back for his two o’clock.”

“I’ll let her know and someone’ll be down to get him from the waiting room shortly. Thanks, Waits.”

“No problem, ma’am.”

Delphia knocked on Waller’s door. “Amanda? Colonel Flag is here.”

“Shit,” Waller’s muffled voice responded, “Can you get him, Delphia? I’m on the phone with the president.”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

She pressed her hands to her cheeks as she shuffled out the door and down the hallway. She could already feel how warm they were and she hadn’t even laid eyes on him yet. Jesus, she needed to get it together and act professional. She was thirty years old for crying out loud. She wasn’t supposed to get stupid crushes like she was still in high school. Right?

Colonel Flag wasn’t in his military uniform today. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, leather boots worn with time and a dirty baseball cap over his head. He somehow looked even hotter with that on than the uniform. Delphia smiled, uncontrollable and attempting at a professional greeting, as she walked into the waiting room of the prison. But as she got closer, she felt her stomach tie up in knots and threaten to force bile up her throat. There were tattoos poking out of the sleeves of his t-shirt and he was holding two cups of coffee as he sat in the plastic chair he barely fit in.

“Colonel Flag, nice to see you again,” Delphia greeted as she stopped just beyond the waiting room door.

Flag looked over at her and instantly smiled. He got up from his seat and came over to her. It had only been a little over twenty-four hours and she had completely forgotten how he towered over her, even if she was wearing heels.

He handed over one of the paper cups. “This’s for you.”

“Oh.” She took it with warm cheeks but an unsure smile. “Um, sorry that Waller’s not here — she’s on a call with the president.”

“Eh, I suspected you’d be the one to pick me up this time anyway.” Oh. So he had gotten the coffee with her specifically in mind. “Wait — hold on. Like, the president?”

Delphia wrapped her hands around the paper cup and steered them around towards the administrative wing door. She waved at the guard to let them in and they walked through the doorway with ease.

“Yeah, that gets dropped pretty casually around here a lot. Waller has many friends in high places.”

Their footsteps echoed in the unfinished hallways. Filling in the silence that had fallen between them. Delphia desperately tried not to feel awkward. But she just couldn’t help it. It felt like she was back in high school. Running an errand for her favorite teacher with her crush from class, which she would later find out that that teacher did on purpose. Which made a completely different thought dawn on her.

Did Waller do this on purpose?

Waller never did anything without purpose, without some other motive. She even admitted to giving Delphia that stupid cactus in order to keep her loyal. Which she really didn’t have to do, Delphia actually enjoyed working for the woman despite her cold and demanding nature. But what could Waller’s motive possibly be for this? For encouraging…something between them?

Delphia took a sip of the coffee Flag had bought her as she thought. But then spluttered when the taste of it hit her tongue.

“What?” Flag laughed over the lip of his own cup, “Is it shit? It’s from my hotel so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“No, no — it’s okay. It’s okay,” Delphia insisted, taking another drink of it for emphasis.

Flag looked at her skeptically. “You sure?”

“It’s just, um…” She looked towards the ceiling, praying that she would just sink through the floor already and get away from this awkwardness. “I drink my coffee black and uh…there’s alotta cream in here. Just surprised me is all.”

“I’ll remember that for next time.”

There was going to be a next time? Delphia thought as he opened the office door for her and let her walk through first.

Sheepishly, she told him to take a seat and Waller would be out in a few minutes. It was tortuous sitting in the same room as him. She tried to just go back to her work but he was sitting right there. He took the closest seat to her desk and Waller’s office. He just sat there and sipped his coffee and scrolled on his phone. He wasn’t even really doing anything and yet it was the most distracting thing in the entire world.Her eyes constantly flicked over to him, only being able to type out a few words before having to stop and just stare at her fingers — poised over the keyboard but her brain anywhere else but this meeting write up.

“So, uh — how long’ve you worked for Waller?” Flag suddenly asked.

Delphia couldn’t tell if she was grateful, excited, or terrified that he was talking to her again. Maybe all three at once?

“Twelve years,” she replied.

“Oh, wow.” He blinked in surprise. “That’s longer than I expected.”

She shrugged, picking up her coffee cup and holding it close to her face to feel the warmth radiating off it. “Started working for her right out of high school, so.”

“Y’must like it a lot,” he said.

“It’s a job. Pays the bills. Takes me to some exciting places.”

Flag leaned forward, elbows on his knees and a grin on his face. “Like where?”

“We went to Jamaica last year for some conference or other. Week long too.”

“Get to spend any of it on the beach?”

Delphia felt her neck heat up in embarrassment. “We were given...Free time to see the sights each day, yeah.”

“Nah, nah, nah — you’re holding back somethin’. What? What’d you do?” He grinned and Delphia rolled her eyes.

“I…” She tried to lie. She really did. But she found it was impossible looking into those hazel tinted eyes. “I took historic tours of Port Royal and Nassau, okay? Learned about pirates. Because I’m a huge fucking nerd.”

Delphia slapped her hand over her mouth with a gafaw at her language slip. She always tried to remain strictly professional with her tongue in the office. But sometimes….sometimes that mouth like a sailor could not be contained. Flag only stared at her with an open mouthed smile and a laugh bubbling in his throat.

“Holy shit, Holman,” he chuckled, “Didn’t think you fuckin’ had it in ya.”

That night, when Delphia went home, she could not get her mind off of Colonel Rick Flag no matter what she did. As she made her dinner her every thought was on him, so much that she overcooked her pasta. As she watched some mindless TV her mind buzzed with the fact that he brought her coffee. And even as she laid down and tried to go to sleep that night, she was restless.

She tossed and turned but her brain just wouldn’t shut off. All she could think about was that boyish smile. Those gentle hazel eyes. The way that shirt stretched over his biceps. How easy it was to talk to him once she got past the awkwardness. How kind he had been. How she was going to get to see him everyday now that he was officially signed on with Task Force X.

What would it be like to run into him in the halls? Would she get the opportunity to bring him coffee and remember how he liked it? Would she get paired up with him for projects Waller wanted finished? Would their hands accidentally brush as they passed off paperwork?

Delphia groaned as she shoved a spare pillow over her face. She needed to get to sleep. Waller wanted her in the office bright and early in the morning to put together a bunch of new hire packets for the office staff. But it seemed that her brain wouldn’t be satisfied until she knew, definitely, that her crush on Colonel Flag would end up going anywhere at all.

A terrible habit she formed in middle school and always had the intention of quitting. But every single time she even felt the tiniest spark with someone, she always had to see. She always had to make sure that he was the one, that she was meant to end up with him. So she would quietly slip into the future, all her thoughts trained on her crush and their love life, and she would see who they end up with. Every single time it wasn’t her. And every single time she got her heart broken and swore she would never do it again.

But then the cycle would repeat itself, and she couldn’t stop herself from just taking a quick peek.

“Ugh, fine,” she hissed into the darkness.

Smoothing out her comforter, it didn’t take much concentration for all of her thoughts to be on the Colonel. Then suddenly her vision was overcome with white, and she was looking at an entirely different place entirely. Far in the future.

Most of Delphia’s visions were solid, realistic. Like she was standing right in the moment, observing everything that happened. But that was only if the variables were set in stone, if there were guarantees, if a full plan was laid. And apparently, Colonel Flag’s love life, or maybe his life in general, was too vague. There were too many variables at play, his timeline branched off in too many directions for her to see which one was the true path. So what she saw before her was only a haze, a transparent, glimmering shadow of a future that may or may not happen.

She stood in the foyer of a big house with nice wood floors, a grand staircase to her right. After a moment, Colonel Flag walked through the front door. He was older, that was certain. But he was still wearing that same dirty baseball hat and worn leather boots. He was thicker now, and he had shaved that ridiculous facial hair. But he looked tired, worn down from a day of doing who knows what. But his face instantly perked up just as the sound of small, pattering feet reached Delphia’s ears.

She looked towards the doorway into one of the other rooms and a small child was running in. Even through the glimmer she could tell that the child had stark white hair and a pair of jean overalls on. He couldn’t have been older than five.

“Daddy!” the child screamed excitedly as the Colonel got down on one knee.

“Hey, big guy!” Flag laughed as his son crashed into his waiting arms.

He lifted the little boy easily, pressing a kiss to the child’s forehead as he got back to his feet.

“Missed you today,” the little boy said.

“Missed you, too.” Flag grinned. “Where’s your mom?”

The child pointed from whence he came and Flag followed his directions with a smile. Delphia followed curiously. She still didn’t have the answers she was looking for. Was she the one he was looking for in this big house? Was she the mother of that child?

Her hopeful heart instantly deflated when she walked into what appeared to be the kitchen. Flag still had his son perched on his hip, and in the other arm he held against his chest a woman with bright white hair. She didn’t see her face, but it was enough to know that it definitely wasn’t her.

Disappointed, Delphia blinked and she was back in her darkened bedroom.

He wasn't the one. She wasn't the one for him. So to spare her feelings, she decided to avoid him all together.

Colonel Rick Flag made it very difficult to avoid him, though. He was kind and friendly and anytime he had to come have a word with Waller he always made sure to stop at her desk to chat for a few minutes. Tried as she might to beat back her growing feelings for the Colonel with a stick, it seemed useless. It seemed she was destined to swoon over the man like a teenager.

And as the weeks went on and her bottled up misery continued, she came to a conclusion. Even if she wasn’t meant to be with him, even if that woman with white hair was going to come along eventually — it was better to spend at least a little time with Colonel Flag than none at all. And it wasn’t like she was going to make a move on him. Whatever happened, happened, and she wasn’t going to stop it.

No, she wouldn’t stop it at all.

Taglist (if you would like to be tagged in future installments just let me know!): @bbygrgu @a-reader-and-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16 @runic-belova @weallhaveadestiny @oopsiedoopsie23 @nerdgrrlramblings @ocfairygodmother @reysorigins @hawsx3

#rick flag #colonel rick flag #rick flag x oc #rick flag imagine #rick flag x delphia holman #suicide squad #suicide squad imagine #suicide squad x oc #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #rick flag fic #suicide squad fanfiction #suicide squad fanfic #suicide squad fic #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman imagine #dceu oc #dceu imagine #dceu fanfiction #dceu fanfic #dceu fic #ocappreciation

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

Anonymous and @blooo0ooop requested baby Flagman and Dad!Flag and I am more than willing to give it

If I Go Universe - Sebastian Knows (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: Rick and Dee had a plan. Settle into the new house, get married, maybe have a kid when they finally feel like they have the rhythm of this new life down. But as has been said before: The future is not set in stone.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC / Squad Family & OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 2370

Warnings: fluffffff, pregnancy, vomiting, language, dad!flag, definitely some suggestive language

Timeline: February 2022

if i go masterlist

A/N: yeah sorry I don't post on a schedule and I've been posting like crazy....but I'm just in love with this little family and I cannot be stopped

It was a beautiful day. One with cause for celebration. Rick caught the murderer, with help from DuBois, and was home safe with only a few scratches. So Delphia had cooked up her fiance’s favorite. Shephard’s pie with a cheesy top, green beans, homemade rolls, and sweet tea. Such a country boy at heart.

She held his leg tightly under the table as they ate. Her grip fierce and thankful and trying to express more than she ever could with words. It had taken everything in her not to look into the future of the case he was working on. When he was gone from the house questioning people or following a lead, she would keep herself occupied with anything and everything so she could remain focused and present. She trusted him with her life. She could trust him with this. So the house was immaculately clean, Harley’s hair was re-dyed, the spring garden was planted, and Abner had a job interview with the local state park working cleanup.

As they all ate, DuBois recounting how he had swooped in and saved Rick’s ass, Rick placed his hand on top of Delphia’s. She looked up at him, eyes glossy with joy, and he smiled. A small and grateful thing that made her hours of worry so very worth it, before he nudged her forehead with his own. He breathed in deep, closing his eyes as he practically fell into her.

“He didn’t save my ass,” he whispered, causing a giggle to rise up in Delphia’s throat, “I was doin’ just fine without ‘im.”

“Sounds like he figured out the last piece of evidence, though.” She nodded her head towards DuBois with a smile.

“Fine — I’ll give him that,” he sighed, nudging her head with his one more time before going back to eating the last of his meal.

“Seemed like you guys made a good team.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we did.”

“Maybe…Maybe you could start doing this — with DuBois,” Delphia suggested nonchalantly as she picked at her remaining green beans.

Rick’s brow furrowed. “What like…Start a PI office?”

“Something like that.” She shrugged, giving up on eating anything more. “DuBois’s been struggling to find work and you’re both more than qualified and — and you were never gonna be happy lazing around this house anyway.”

“Baby girl — I was gonna be more than happy to laze around this house with you for the rest of my life.” He lifted his brows in thought with a slight grin. “But if you’re suggesting I get do something else on the side — “

“Just shut up and do it, Flag.” Delphia knocked his shoulder with her own playfully. “Before I change my mind.”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll talk to DuBois after.” Then he seemed to notice how much food she had left on her plate. “You okay, baby? Ya hardly ate anything.”

Delphia looked down at her plate with a furrowed brow. She felt like she ate a ton, satisfied and maybe even a little nauseous if she thought hard enough. But Rick was right. She’d barely touched her shepherd’s pie — maybe a few bites taken out of each thing on her plate.

“I — I’m okay. Just not very hungry I guess.”

Rick took DuBois out onto the back patio with a couple of beers once dinner was over. It was still relatively cold outside, so they started a fire in the firepit. Nanaue was back out in the pool as soon as he was let up from the table. Harley and Abner joined the rest of them outside, though when DuBois told them to fuck off they began trying out the volleyball net Rick had put up the week before.

“Would you like some help with the dishes?” Cleo asked with a smile.

“Absolutely. Wash or dry?”

“I can wash.” Cleo stepped up to the sink, taking Sebastian from her shoulder and setting him off to the side.

Delphia eyed the rat curiously as Cleo dunked the first pan into the soapy water. He was sniffing at the air, little hands ringing together as he did so. Then he climbed up onto the windowsill behind the sink and crossed over to Delphia’s side. He sniffed at her hand, small wet nose nudging at her skin before he looked up at her with his head cocked.

Delphia sighed as Cleo passed her the now-washed pan. “He just wants to swim in the water doesn’t he?”

Cleo looked over at her rat companion with a smile. “Possibly. He did really enjoy it last time.”

“You’re just gonna have to wait until we’re done with the dishes,” Delphia told him pointedly as she set the pan on the rack to finish drying completely.

But Sebastian wouldn’t stop smelling her hand and looking up at her expectantly. Like he had done a good job and was deserving of a treat. Cleo seemed to notice this strange behavior too. As she handed Delphia the next clean dish, she paused and watched as Sebastian pointedly crawled onto Delphia’s arm, took a big whiff of her skin, then looked across the sink at his caretaker.

“Okay, that cannot be him just wanting to go for a swim.”

“No, it’s not,” Cleo agreed, “I think he smells a change in your hormones, Dee.”

“You trained him to track human hormones?” Delphia asked as she gave Sebastian’s head an affection pat.

“Everyone has a unique signature — it’s good for following people in crowds.” Delphia did not want to know the reason Cleo needed for having rats track someone. “And he tells me when I’m about to get my period. Maybe that’s what he smells on you.”

Right. Her last period was…A while ago.

Oh, fuck.

Her last period was a while ago.

Delphia’s gut reaction was to snap her head up and look at Rick through the window above the sink. But he was distracted by the deep conversation he was having with DuBois. Beer bottles in their hands and serious faces illuminated by the crackling fire between them. Delphia looked back down to her occupied hands as they dried the next pan and swallowed hard. It felt like a rock had settled somewhere low inside her gut. Making her all the more aware of the fact that there may be something actually in there. And as she and Cleo continued to wash the dishes in comfortable silence, Delphia was far from it. Her hands began to shake, her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, her mind felt like it was too loud.

They talked about kids a few times. But any talk involving having any was also always paired with a plan. Buy a bigger house, get married, actually feel settled into this new life that they’ve given themselves and one day, maybe, start having kids. It was always just such a big if for them. They housed dangerous criminals for a living. Not exactly a healthy environment for a child. Not to mention that Delphia had reservations about the possibility of any of their children inheriting her powers. Growing up with them was a bitch and she was unsure if she was willing to put someone else through that.

God, but Rick would be a great dad. There was evidence enough in his interactions with his old squad members. He was gentle in his correction, stern but kind, and more than willing to joke and play when it was necessary. And as Delphia looked out the window at him one more time she could picture it. Him sitting out on one of their deck chairs, just like he was now, with a little baby bouncing in his lap. The image brought sudden tears to her eyes that she had to hide from Cleo.

There was no need to get ahead of herself though. Sebastian could be wrong.

Once the dishes were done, Cleo said, “Come, let’s join them outside.”

“Er — I’m gonna go upstairs really quick, I’ll be out in a sec,” Delphia replied as she dried off her hands, “Do you mind, when you get the chance — just tell Rick to meet me upstairs?”

Cleo nodded before pulling open the sliding glass door and stepping outside.

Making a beeline for the stairs, Delphia took them practically two at a time in order to get to the bathroom faster. She had a test under the sink. The second one from a two-pack after a moment of uncertainty nearly a year ago. She closed the door to their bedroom but left the bathroom door open as she took the test. Once it was fully saturated, she set the test down on the counter, set a timer, and waited.

She pressed a hand to her chest as she sat down on the edge of the tub. Her heart felt like it was going at light speed. She took a deep breath to try and calm herself down. But it didn’t seem to work. Her leg bounced and she couldn’t keep her hands still — her fingers constantly going through her hair or pinching at her face.

“Hey, Dee, Ratatouille said you needed somethin’?” Rick’s voice carried in from the bedroom as he walked inside.

“I’m in here,” she called to him, voice shaking.

“You okay?” he chuckled nervously as he stepped into the doorway of the bathroom, then, being the observant man that he is, he spotted the pregnancy test on the counter and his eyes went wide. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

Her voice was small. So much smaller than it usually was and Rick reacted in kind. He moved across the bathroom to her in one easy stride and knelt down before her. In Rick’s presence, her leg had stopped shaking and her heart had slowed, but she couldn’t stop the big child-like tears that were falling down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she frantically wiped at her reddened face, “I shouldn’t — I shouldn’t feel as scared as I do — “

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rick shushed her quietly, taking hold of her hands and gripping them fiercely in her lap, “It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay.”

“I just….I just don’t want you to think I don’t want this.” Freeing one of her hands, she reached up a hand to his cheek, felt his stubble beneath her fingers, and she smiled. “Because I want everything with you — forever.”

“God, you really do love me don’t you?” he asked with a smirk.

She pushed at his face gently with a light laugh, but then she couldn’t help but coax him into looking at her again. “Yeah. I really do love you.”

They waited in silence for the timer to go off. And all Delphia could do was look at Rick. The distinct line of his jaw. The light stubble on his upper lip and chin. She traced his cheekbones with her fingertips, looked deep into those golden eyes flecked with green that looked back at her with such admiration and affection. She trailed the line of a scar over his right eyebrow. Parted his lips with the pad of her thumb. Yeah, any kid of his was going to be cute. And he was going to be with her every step of the way — no matter what. And yes they may live in a house full of ex-convicts and yes the kid may inherit her powers and yes this wasn’t exactly fitting into their future plans — but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter one bit because she had Rick Flag at her side. And really, what more did she ever need?

The timer went off suddenly and loudly. Delphia nearly jumped as she reached for her phone and shut it off as quickly as she could.

“Do you want me to look first?” Rick asked softly, giving her fingers still splayed across his lips a kiss.

“No,” she replied, dropping her hand from his face, “I want us to look together.”

He nodded with a smile then helped her get to her feet. The white and blue pregnancy test sat almost ominously on the counter. Like a single actor illuminated by spotlight on the stage — about to give his last soliloquy. Delphia stood closest to the sink. Rick stood at her back, chest pressed up against her spine and reassuring hands on her hips. Her fingers no longer shook as she grabbed the test. Breath stilled in her lungs. She could feel Rick’s muscles tense, pulled taught, waiting as she lifted it into view. There was the little screen. They could read it now.

Pregnant.

“Oh, my God,” she laughed, looking at Rick’s face in the mirror’s reflection with a shocked smile.

He smiled right back. She could feel his chuckle reverberate into her spine and ribcage. She put the test down and laughed again. She was pregnant. And she watched, almost dazed, as Rick’s hulking form curled around her. As his head bent over her neck, trailing sloppy kisses up and down her skin. As one of his hands skimmed under her shirt to rest against her belly.

“You’re stuck with me now, Holman,” he murmured into her shoulder.

“Not stuck.” She placed her hand over his and pressed it more firmly into her flesh. “Not if it’s you.”

He hummed into her neck. His fingers slipping into the waistband of her pants — drawing a gasp from her. Then he muttered, “Anybody else know about this?”

“Sebastian.”

Rick paused in his ministrations. “The rat?”

“Yeah,” Delphia chuckled, leaning back into his form, “But I don’t want anyone else to know for a while. That okay?”

“That’s perfect.” He gave her neck another kiss, his hand sinking further between her legs. “Something just for us — for a little while.”

But before their celebrations could really get anywhere, Delphia felt a sudden stirring in her stomach. She tore away from Rick and collapsed over the toilet, spilling the dinner that she barely ate back into the porcelain. As hot saliva dripped from her mouth she groaned, feeling most definitely not in the mood.

“Wanna just cuddle in bed instead?” Rick suggested with a laugh.

“Yes, please.”

Taglist (if you would like to be added for future installments just let me know): @bbygrgu @a-reader-not-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16

#rick flag #rick flag imagine #rick flag x oc #rick flag x delphia holman #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #colonel rick flag #suicide squad imagine #suicide squad fanfiction #suicide squad fic #the suicide squad #squad family #squad fam #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman imagine #if i go universe #dceu oc #dceu imagine #dceu fanfiction #dceu fanfic #dceu fic

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

If I Go Universe - Snippets of a Pregnancy (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: Just a collection of cute little moments that cover the entirety of Delphia's pregnancy.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC / Squad Family & OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 7740

Warnings: lots of pregnancy stuff obviously, labor/birthing stuff, language, death and coma mention, just a pinch of angst, flufffff, suggestive language (and a slight pregnancy kink if you squint like that's my b)

Timeline: January 2022 - September 2022

if i go masterlist

“Babe — look what popped!”

Delphia was standing in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom. Sleep shirt bunched up underneath her armpits so her entire abdomen was exposed. An abdomen that most definitely had a slight swell to it. She was showing.

Rick was already laying in bed, lamp turned on and book in hand, ready to begin their nighttime routine. She looked over at him with an excited smile, a gentle hand against her stomach. A boyish grin stretched across Rick’s face when he looked up at her. He quickly threw aside the covers and got out of bed to join her.

“God, look at that,” he breathed in a sort of unbelieving joy as he slid to sit on the farthest corner of the bed, hands reaching out to pull her over to him.

His hands explored that little belly with a type of reverence reserved for holy things. Tracing the slight curve of it with his fingers, pulling her as close as he could get her between his legs. Rick looked up into her face with a smile.

“We made a fuckin’ baby,” he whispered to her, tone laced with delighted shock.

“Hell yeah, we did.”

Their honeymoon cabin was beautiful. Tucked away in mountainous woods with no one around for miles. The day before, they had gone out on a hike. Nothing too strenuous but with gorgeous waterfall views and plenty of benches to stop and sit down. So today was a rest day. Tomorrow they would go back out and hike again.

And to occupy their time, Delphia had brought along a few baby name books.

“How about Danger?” Rick suggested with a devious grin.

Delphia flashed him a look. “We are not naming our son Danger.”

“Oh, come on.” Rick threw his book down on the side table, putting all his focus on rubbing at Delphia’s ankles thrown over his lap. “S’a cool name. Danger Flag.”

“No. Absolutely not.” She flipped through a few more pages with a furrowed brow. “Theodore?”

“What like the chipmunk?”

She huffed. “Hm, yeah, I guess so. Nolan?”

“Nolan,” Rick tried the name on his tongue then made a face, “Eh — no. What was so wrong with Richard Flag III again?”

“I thought we already talked about this.” She set the book pages down on top of her belly. “His middle name’ll be Richard — but it’s…Important to me that he has his own name. There’s a lot in a name.”

Rick sighed indignantly but relented for the last time. “Fine. Fine.”

There was silence between them for a minute. Rick’s gaze trained towards the window that overlooked the forest surrounding them. Delphia bit her lip as she watched him. Anxiety, like a tentacled monster from the deepest and darkest of seas, was inching it’s way around her heart. Had she done something wrong? It itched at the back of her brain, knawed at her. There was so much new territory here in this moment. They were talking about naming their kid, about how they were going to raise him, they were just married three days ago. Everything about their relationship was tilting and shifting at an angle that Delphia wasn’t accustomed to yet. And neither was Rick. It was all happening so fast it seemed. And — oh, God. It just felt like she had really messed up and she didn’t know how to fix it.

She nudged him with her foot. “Hey…Are — Are we okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rick finally looked away from the window, passing a hand over his chin and jaw. “It’s fine.”

“Please stop saying that.” She didn’t know when those tears started building in her eyes, but they were suddenly spilling over and making her voice shake. That monster from the deep seizing her heart completely.

Rick glanced over at his wife and reacted in kind. “Hey, hey — it’s okay.”

He quickly adjusted, putting himself between her legs so his face could hover over hers. Careful to put barely any of his weight on her. Baby name book tossed carelessly on the floor. He cradled her face in his large hand, thumb wiping at the tears as they came.

“I’m not mad — I’m not, I promise,” he tried to reassure her.

But Delphia could only shake her head, the tears coming even harder now — almost as if she couldn’t stop. “It’s — It's just that I feel like I’m doing everything wrong.”

“Oh, baby girl. You’re not. You’re not doin’ anything wrong. Okay?”

A small sob slipped past her lips. She really couldn’t stop now. Her chest heaved with every breath. Her reddened face was pinched, screwed up as the tears flowed freely. And upon the realization that she couldn’t keep from crying, she covered her face with her hands. Ashamed of what she was feeling. Rick noticed it about as quickly as she did. His face dropped into her shoulder for a moment. Then he readjusted the two of them on the couch so he could hold her better. There was nothing he could say at this point that would make it better. She just needed to be held.

Rolling Delphia onto her side, Rick slotted himself between her and the back of the couch. His arm gently came around to splay his hand against her stomach. He pressed reassuring kisses to her neck and shoulder, lips tracing a studied path up and down her skin. After a few minutes, he felt her breathing slow. The pitiful shake of her shoulders slowed to a halt. Her fingers interlaced with his across her belly.

She said softly, “I know that naming him after you and your dad is important to you. I know that. But it’s just….There’s nothing of me in that name. And maybe that’s selfish of me. But this — “ She gripped his fingers tighter, pressed them more firmly into her flesh. “Is us. It’s both of us together — and I want his name to be us together too.”

Rick detangled his fingers from Delphia’s. Oh, no. Had she said the wrong thing again? He reached over the side of the couch and pulled back up the baby name book. Opened to a random page. He put the book in his hand pinned under Delphia’s head so the other could go back to trace lazy patterns over her belly.

“How about Mason?”

Delphia sniffed with a smile. “Knew a Mason in high school. He was a dickhead.”

“Not that one then.” Rick kissed the back of her head. “Oo — Ignatius?”

“No,” she giggled.

Rick flipped a few more pages. Then Delphia stopped him with a gentle hand on his wrist. “What about that one?”

She pointed to the name in question.

“Not bad,” he said, “It’ll sound nice with Richard.”

“Hm,” she hummed happily, “I love it.”

“Then so do I.”

Delphia had to agree that having a human person growing inside her was fucking weird. Her hormones were all out of whack, she craved the stupidest foods at the stupidest times, her organs were shifting around, her back was killing her constantly, her ankles were swollen, and she was forgetting shit she would usually remember. All because she was pregnant.

And let us not forget fetal movement. Delphia hated that shit. It was good to know that the baby was actually alive in there, but it was the weirdest feeling in the world to Delphia. It made her skin crawl. And when the baby was big enough to where she could actually see her entire stomach move with him, it made her shoulders scrunch and her face pinch in disgust.

But it was all worth it for the simple fact that Rick was obsessed with feeling the baby move. Whenever he was around, he couldn’t keep his hands off of her stomach. Sitting down watching a movie? He wasn’t holding her hand anymore, he had his hand on her belly. She’s standing there trying to make dinner? He’s got his chest pressed to her back, large hands molded over her abdomen. Trying to sleep? You can bet that man is curled around her as the big spoon. Hand where? You guessed it: Feeling the baby.

Tonight was no different. It had become a sort of pre-bed routine. By the light of their respective nightstands, Rick would be reading his book with Delphia sitting between his legs — her back leaned against his chest with her own book in hand. In one hand Rick would have his novel, but the other would be preoccupied on the expanse of her belly, feeling for the baby wherever he could.

“God, he’s really awake right now, huh?” Rick mumbled as he set down his book, instead devoting all of his attention to Delphia’s stomach.

Delphia hummed back as she shifted uncomfortably. Trying to focus on the words on the page but finding it increasingly difficult as the baby practically did somersaults inside her. Which was then contradicted by the stretched, itchy feeling that covered the skin of her abdomen. She reached around the curve of her belly and scratched irritably at it, a whine escaping her when she lost her place in her book again.

Rick chuckled against her neck. “What’s wrong, baby girl?”

“Fuckin’ itches,” she grumbled, tossing her novel to the side with little hope of picking it up again.

“Lemme help.” He planted a kiss on her shoulder before getting out from behind her and disappearing into the bathroom.

Not a minute later he reemerged with the tub of coconut oil in his hand. Delphia smiled at the sight. He was too good to her. As he got back onto the bed behind her, she pulled up her sleep shirt with eager anticipation. Rick scooped a generous amount on his hands and rubbed at her belly gently. Soothing the uncomfortable stretch that had been consuming her. She leaned back into his form heavily with a sigh, a delighted noise from the back of her throat, almost like a purr, making Rick chuckle again.

“Better?” he asked against the shell of her ear.

“Much,” she whispered.

And it was almost like he had hypnotized her. Suddenly her eyes were feeling so very heavy and she barely even wanted to pick up her head from his chest. She could fall asleep right then and there if Rick let her. And he would. It wouldn’t be the first time she had fallen asleep on him while he had to deal with an uncomfortable position. But he never complained, because that was just who Rick was.

He kissed the side of her head. “I’ll be right back.”

Yeah, she definitely could fall asleep, but that gosh darn baby of theirs.

“God, will you just calm down?” she whispered, hands on either side of her belly, “It’s almost eleven o’clock. Way past your bedtime young man.”

“What’d you say, baby?” Rick asked as he walked back from the bathroom.

“Your son will not stop pile-driving me in the kidney.”

Rick quickly flopped onto the bed with her, nose to belly as he said, “Hey! We don’t hit women!”

“You’re ridiculous,” she laughed, fingers tangling into his hair.

“But seriously.” He smiled up at her through his lashes as he planted a kiss to her stomach. “Go easy on your momma, she’s tryin’ to sleep. Even though I completely understand you wanna practice your wrestling moves. We’ll have plenny’a time for that when yer older.

“God, I can’t wait to hold you. Throw the baseball around— take you to yer first game. Can’t wait to kiss those cheeks and show you the world. But we gotta wait just a little longer. Only two more months. Gotta keep cookin’ — then you’re all mine, little guy.”

Rick looked back up at Delphia. She was sound asleep. Head lolled onto her shoulder and white hair falling in her face. He chuckled before pressing another kiss into her belly. Worked every time.

“Hey, Rick?” Delphia asked into the darkness of their shared bed.

She reached out across the maternity pillow that had replaced him for snuggles a long time ago and shook his arm. Rick groaned as he rolled over, reaching out blindly towards her and accidentally hitting her in the face.

“Ow.”

“Ah, shit, baby.” He sounded more awake as he cupped her jaw. “Sorry. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she giggled, “It didn’t really hurt — just surprised me.”

“Sorry,” he repeated.

Oh, no, he was going back to sleep. Hand still on her face and all. She took hold of that hand and squeezed it tight. “Rick — babe.”

“Mm, what?”

“I really want some fries.” She bit her lip anxiously.

Rick huffed as he rolled onto his back, free hand wiping down his face. “Right now?”

“It would be greatly appreciated if it was right now, yeah.” She watched him rub at his eyes with a grin. “I’ll go with you if you want.”

“You don’t have to, baby girl.”

“And if I want to?”

Rick got out of bed and picked up the sweatpants he’d abandoned on the floor earlier. “Then you better get up.”

They were changed into midnight drive-thru appropriate clothes and downstairs in under five minutes. But what they didn’t expect was to find Cleo still awake and sitting in the living room, flipping through channels on the TV.

“What’re you guys doing?” she asked as she watched the two of them try to sneak by her.

Delphia stopped while Rick kept moving to grab the car keys. She put her hands to her belly and sighed. “Well, baby wants fries and I am not about to deny him.”

“Wanna come?” Rick asked as he came back into the living room.

“Sure!”

The three of them piled into the Jeep and took off towards town. Delphia took Rick’s right hand while he drove, pulling it up to her lips before laying it flat against her belly where a few feather-light kicks could be felt.

“He says thank you.” She smiled.

“Anything for my two favorites,” he said, then he glanced into the rearview mirror, “And Ratatouille I guess.”

“Don’t worry Colonel Flag. I won’t tell any of the others that I’m your favorite.” Cleo smiled.

How the entire squad ended up in the nursery while her and Rick were painting was beyond Delphia. She was sure it started when Cleo wandered in, offering a helping hand. Then suddenly everyone was crammed inside the small spare room. Somehow arguing over what color to paint the walls.

“Guys, we already bought the damn paint,” Rick pointed out, gesturing down to the two gallon buckets on the floor.

“Hardware store’s not that far at all,” Harley said.

“And you should return that shit anyway, it’s fuckin’ ugly,” DuBois grumbled from the window seat.

“What’s wrong with sage green?” Delphia asked.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty color, Robert!” Cleo defended from her spot on the floor, Sebastian cuddled in her hands, “It’s like the forest!”

“Thank you, Cleo.”

“Blue!” Nanaue suggested, “Like the sea!”

“I still think I could do some spray paint in here.” Harley held up her hands like she was framing a shot for a film, one eye closed as she looked around the room. “Cool ass mural — write his name across the wall.”

“No thanks, Harley,” Rick replied, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He was starting to get frustrated. They really needed to get the paint done today. All the furniture was coming tomorrow and he was going to have to spend at least a week putting it all together. And from the looks of Delphia, he was barely going to have time to get it done.

But Delphia could see that he was getting overwhelmed. Could see it in the way his shoulders tensed, the way his hands kept switching from his hips to putting his head in his hands. With a bit of effort, she made her way over to him and placed a hand on his arm. He looked down at her as everyone continued to talk, hand over his mouth so they wouldn’t see him frowning. She gave his bicep a squeeze with a smile.

“I got this,” she whispered to him, then she turned to the squad, “Look, guys — we appreciate the help. But we’re still painting the room green.”

They all grumbled, mostly Harley and Nanaue.

“How about this?” she waddled over to one of the walls and put her hand against it, “Each of you guys gets a section on this wall to paint however you want. To remind him of you. Sound good?”

Delphia looked over at Rick first. He was smiling — more thankful than anything at her ability to get them all to stop talking. He nodded his head when they made eye contact. He agreed that her idea was good. And everyone else seemed into it too. Harley immediately bounded from the room, screaming that she was going to the hardware store to get more paint. DuBois groaned when Rick prompted for him to follow her.

“Fuck your wall,” he said pointedly as he walked past.

“What color you gonna get for yourself, DuBois?” Delphia asked knowingly after him.

He stopped in the doorway, a frown overpowering his face, then he muttered, “Black.”

By the end of the day, the rest of the walls were painted a beautiful sage green, and one wall looked like the squad family had thrown up all over it. It was divided into five rectangular sections floor to ceiling and each one was completely different from the other.

Harley painted her section a splattering of neons, with crime scene tape and smiley faces. Abner decided to paint his with his classic polka-dots. Cleo painted a beautiful scene of flowers at the top, while Sebastian slapped his little feet as best he could across the bottom. DuBois painted his a simple block of black, with a hidden penis up in the far corner that neither Rick or Delphia would notice until years later. And Nanaue painted a surprisingly detailed seascape, with kelp growing at the bottom and the ocean growing lighter and lighter towards the top.

“N-Nanue did this?” Rick asked as he and Delphia admired everyone’s finished work.

“I know — I watched him do it though,” she said, “He’s surprisingly adept with a paintbrush.”

Now, even if any of them were to leave the house, they would always have something there as a reminder.

“You ready, baby?” Rick asked quietly against the shell of her ear.

Delphia nodded eagerly, fingers flexing against their bedroom wall as she planted her feet shoulder-width apart. It was taking everything in her not to push her hips back into his when she felt his presence behind her. All hard muscle and heat that left her panting in anticipation. Hands on her hips, Rick bent down to plant a kiss on the crook of her neck. Then he hunched around her form, collapsing in on her as he wound his hands under the expanse of her full-term belly. He counted down from three, Delphia’s breath picking up with each passing second, then very slowly and carefully he picked it up.

The full weight of their baby now rested in his capable hands. Delphia sighed at the release of pressure from her lower back. She practically went limp — arms falling to her sides and head thrown back against his chest. Rick’s chuckle reverberated through her spine.

“Feel good?” he asked.

“Fuck yes,” she practically moaned, fingers curling around his forearms, “Can we stay like this forever?”

“You may wanna go to sleep eventually.”

“No, no — I can sleep standing up, I promise.”

Rick shook his head as he chuckled, lips ghosting over the expanse of her neck, going anywhere he could reach. “Can’t believe you’ve been carryin’ this around all the time.”

“It’s your fault, Flag,” she muttered, tilting her head to the side so she could get her own lips on his neck.

“I know,” he growled, sinking his teeth into her pulse point — pulling a gasp from her — before soothing it with his tongue, “It’s sexy as fuck — seein’ you like this.”

Delphia could feel her entire body awash with heat, a huff escaping her when he slowly let go of her belly. Rick guided her hands back up to the wall, pushing them palms flat. Then he gently traced back up her arms, down her shoulders, to ghost his fingers over the length of her spine. It made her back arch, drew a gasp from her that was so quiet in its sin.

Rick’s voice was a gruff mutter against the back of her neck, “I’m not done with you yet.”

Delphia had become nearly addicted to buying baby clothes. They were just always so tempting and so cute that she simply could not pass up at least looking at the little clothes on the racks at nearly every store she went to. Little pairs of overalls, shirts, onesies, tiny pairs of shoes and hats. The nursery closet was beginning to feel overcrowded and Rick would give her look whenever she came home with another little something for the baby.

So when she just so happened to find herself alone in Target with nothing better to do, she wandered around the baby clothes. Hoping to spot something that she hadn’t already bought.

Delphia was looking through some shirts, trying to decide if she should go ahead and buy some six-month sizes just in case, when she noticed an older woman shopping in the same section smiling at her. Shit, they locked eyes despite Delphia’s attempts not to.

“I’m shopping for my granddaughters — twins. Just two months old.” The woman beamed, pointing at the clothes. “When are your babies due?”

Delphia’s eyes widened as she glanced down at herself. She really couldn’t blame the woman. At nearly nine months pregnant she was huge. Even Rick’s shirts wouldn’t fit over the entirety of it anymore. And seeing her feet was out of the picture a long time ago.

Delphia coughed awkwardly and said, “Um, just the one baby actually. Due in about a week.”

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Delphia laughed, inching away from the woman so she would stop talking to her.

The woman didn’t get the hint. “Must be a big baby then, huh?”

“Er — yeah. Measuring nine point eight pounds.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” The woman shook her head and Delphia’s brow furrowed. “My first was a ten-pounder and let me tell you — he tore my vagina down to my asshole. Gave me a hemorrhage. I was in the hospital for a week after the birth. A whole mess.”

Delphia gulped. Oh, God.

Rick came home at the end of the day with DuBois expecting to see Delphia lounged on the couch with a bag of chips and Grey’s Anatomy on the TV. A usual for her the past few weeks with her due date getting closer and closer. But today she was not on the couch. She wasn’t upstairs in their bedroom. She wasn’t in the library. In fact, she was nowhere to be found.

“Hey, Pokey,” Rick said as he came into the kitchen to see Abner making a sandwich, “You seen Dee?”

“Uh — last I saw her she was walking outside, I think.”

Rick looked out the sliding glass door with a furrowed brow. Outside? What the hell was she doing out there? He slid open the glass and stepped outside. The backyard was big, but from the patio he could see the entirety of it. Nanaue swimming without a care in the pool. The empty gazebo. All the pieces and parts of the playground he had yet to put together. But still there was no Delphia. Then he spotted, at the very back of the yard, the wide path that led back to the treehouse.

No way.

With his long strides it didn’t take him long to cross the yard and go down the path to the treehouse. It wasn’t very big, but it was well made and had a nice wooden ladder that led up to the doorway that Rick struggled to squeeze through every time. But there was no way that Delphia could’ve gotten up there. She was nearly nine months pregnant for Christ’s sake. But Rick had a feeling, deep in his chest. So with a sigh, he began to climb the ladder.

He poked his head over the top, just enough to see if she was in there, and sure enough —

“Hey, babe.”

Delphia was sitting on the floor of the treehouse, back against the far wall and legs spread out in front of her, hands resting on top of the curve of her belly. She had that look on her face like something was on her mind.

“Dee, baby, how the hell’d you get up here?” he asked.

“Climbed the ladder.” She shrugged. “Didn’t really think about how I was gonna get down though.”

Rick snorted before he pulled himself up the rest of the way and squeezed his shoulders through the door. He crawled across the floor and settled down beside her with a groan. She didn’t look at him. Her eyes remained lost somewhere in the middle distance with her head cocked to one side.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Lady at the store today asked when the twins were due,” she said.

“Ah, shit,” Rick replied, trying very hard not to laugh.

He couldn’t blame the woman either. Now that Delphia was nearly to term he would agree with her that maybe their baby was too big. She was as big as a house.

“And when she found out it was just the one — she started talking about tearing and hemorrhaging…”

“Baby, the doctor told us that could happen,” he reminded.

“I know, I know. It’s just…Hearing it from someone who actually experienced it made it feel more real. I guess.” She took a deep breath and moved her hands down to cradle her belly. “Kinda scared me — if I’m honest.”

She finally looked over at him and the tears in her eyes hit him like a bullet to the gut. Rick instantly reassured her by taking her hand in his and giving it a squeeze.

“Everythin’s gonna be alright,” he said gently, giving her fingers a kiss, “In the end — we’re gonna have a kid. A baby boy that we’re gonna love so much it’s gonna break our hearts. In the end, you’re gonna be the greatest momma to that little boy. You are the strongest woman I’ve ever known. I’ve seen you shoot bad guys, argue with aliens — and you’re a fuckin’ time lord. I love you so fuckin’ much.”

Delphia sniffed back her tears loudly. “Even if your son rips my vagina?”

“Even if he rips your vagina,” Rick chuckled.

She rested her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh. “Can we just stay here awhile?”

“Is it cause you’re stuck?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

It was nearly two in the morning. But Delphia couldn’t sleep. The baby was restless and every position she tried was uncomfortable. So she opted to wander around the house, jar of peanut butter and spoon in hand. In the back of her mind, she hoped she induced labor with all the exercise. Her due date had passed her by three days ago.

In the darknesss, she found herself in the nursery. Rick had finished putting together the crib that afternoon — declaring his victory over IKEA. Everything was ready and waiting. All it needed now was a baby to occupy it. The closet was full of onesies, little shirts, and pants. The changing table was stocked with diapers, wet wipes, and burp rags. The rocking recliner Delphia had requested was in the corner by the window seat. She made her way over to it and sat down with some difficulty.

She stared at the mobile above the crib. Little clouds and stars dancing above where her baby would sleep. Setting down the peanut butter and spoon, she cradled her belly in her hands. She just wanted to hold him. Really hold him.

The chair rocked back and forth soothingly as she continued to watch the mobile spin. There was nothing else to be done. No more things to buy or paint or furniture to put together. Everything was ready. They were ready — to be parents, with all that entailed.

“God, did you even know you were pregnant when you got arrested?” Delphia’s quiet whisper suddenly filled the silence of the early morning, “Did you ever know? Or did you just slip into a coma with no idea way — with some vague memory of your own mother dying the same way? Being pregnant has sucked, but I wouldn’t’ve wanted to miss any of this. First kicks, getting to hear his heartbeat, the ultrasounds, Rick talking to the baby…You didn’t even get to pick out my name.”

Sudden tears pricked at her eyes that she quickly tried to blink away. “And what did you see — when you were stuck in the future? Did you see me? Did you see this? I hope you did. I hope you got to see the woman I’ve become. I hope you got to watch me fall in love, create a life, start a family of my own. I hope…I hope you were proud of me. And I’m so sorry — that all you could do was watch me grow up instead of actually being there. If — If you’re watching right now from some thirty-odd years ago…I want you to know that I am proud to be your daughter. I wish I could’ve known you, loved you as I should. I wish you could meet your grandson. I’m so sorry…”

There was something against Delphia’s cheek. She looked up from staring into her lap, brow furrowed and wet eyes searching. It felt like a hand against her face. There was a haze — a glimmer before her. Kneeling in front of the recliner. A woman with bright red hair and a sad sort of smile.

“Mom — “

But just like that the haze disappeared and the feeling against her cheek was gone.

“Dee?” Rick stepped into the doorway rubbing tiredly at his eye, sweatpants slung low around his waist, “What’re you doin’?”

“I — uh — “ She struggled to find words for a moment, still staring, hoping to see her one last time. But when nothing happened she shook her head. “Just couldn’t sleep. And neither can baby apparently.”

Rick huffed through his nose with a smile as he stepped further into the room. He held out a hand to her. “Come on — let’s go back to bed.”

“Okay.”

She allowed him to pull her from the recliner and lead her out of the nursery. Looking back over her shoulder, she swore she saw that bright red hair one last time.

“You sure you shouldn’t in the ‘ospital?” DuBois asked from his desk.

Delphia tagged along that morning to Rick and DuBois’ office in town to help file paperwork. Rick had tried with all his might to get his five days overdue wife to just stay home and relax, but Delphia had never been very good at that in the first place. She liked to keep busy and the last few weeks had been killing her. So when she looked up at him with those big blue eyes, pleading and mischievous, he really couldn’t say no to her. And plus, she was so much better at filling out paperwork and organizing it than he was.

“I’m fine, DuBois,” Delphia reassured as she waddled over to a filing cabinet with a stack of filled manila folders, “This baby’s stubborn as his dad and doesn’t plan on moving anytime soon.”

She opened up the drawer and began putting away the files. A nice distraction from her encroaching anxiety about this baby not wanting to just exit her body. Being pregnant was really beginning to drive her mad. And she could tell that it was making everyone else around the house anxious too. They all walked and talked around her like she was a ticking time bomb — about to explode. And maybe she was. But she swore if someone asked her how she was doing one more time, she was going to start throwing things.

So it was a good thing that Rick was out of the office interviewing a potential case and she was left alone with DuBois, who never asked her much about anything. A nice reprieve from Rick’s constant, good natured, worry. She swore that man had packed and repacked the hospital bag at least ten times by now. Every move she made he was asking if it was time to go. She loved him and appreciated his readiness to do quite literally anything for her, but he was starting to make her crazy.

Finished with one stack of files, she moved back to Rick’s desk to grab the next stack. Pain, like she was being cut open with a white hot knife, tore across her stomach. Her hand shot out and gripped the edge of the desk to steady herself — the intensity of the pain having made her lose her balance.

“Ow — fuck,” she muttered under her breath, grimace pulling at her face and her hand reaching down to smooth over her belly.

The feeling quickly passed, but in a short time it made a sweat breakout across her brow. Delphia looked up to see Dubois, sitting at his desk across the room, already staring at her with an angry brow. She smiled like everything was fine and went back to work. Hoping that continuing to distract herself would convince her that everything was, in fact, fine.

But then, ten minutes later like clockwork, just as she was going to close the filing cabinet drawer, another pain ripped across her abdomen. Somehow even more all consuming than before. The metal cabinet rattled loudly as she slammed the drawer shut, her other hand clamping down on top of it hard.

“Ah, shit — titties — motherfucker!” she cursed.

DuBois was now standing behind his desk, concern etched into his face. “You alright, love?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she all but barked back, agitated and still in the remnants of pain.

“I’m gonna call Flag,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“No — I said it’s — “

Delphia never got to finish. Instead, her body answered well enough for her. There was a soft pop between her legs and a sudden rush of fluids soaked her pants.

“Please tell me you just fuckin’ pissed yourself,” Dubois said.

Delphia looked up at him with wide eyes, hands up in the air. “I really wish that I could.”

“Fuck!” he hissed, quickly dialing Rick’s number and putting the phone to his ear, “Think you can wait till Flag gets back?”

“Um — I — I don’t know,” she replied as she slowly sat down in Rick’s desk chair. Not even five minutes after the last pain, another hit her, forcing her hands to clamp down on the armrests and her head to be thrown back in agony. “Shit! Fuck — that hurts!”

“Hey, Flag — yeah, yeah. Look, your girl just went into labor in the office — “ Dubois pulled the phone away from his head, even from across the room Delphia could hear Rick’s loud exclamation. “Yeah, I’ll tell ‘er. Alright. Bye. He said to tell you ta breathe.”

Delphia immediately started up the breathing exercises the birthing coach had told them about, hands rubbing soothing circles into her belly. “When’d he say he’d be here?”

“Twenny minutes — clients house’s pretty far out there.”

Delphia groaned, “I don’t think I’m gonna make it that long.”

“You’re gonna be fine — just, do the breathin’ or whateva and he’ll be ‘ere before ya know it,” he said as he moved to stand beside her.

Five minutes since the last contraction and another was coursing through her abdomen, reaching all the way around to her spine. She screamed in agony, fingers white knuckling the arm rest and sweat beading on her forehead. This was moving too fast — she could practically feel the baby pressed against her pelvis. As the worst of the pain faded, she looked up at Dubois with bared teeth and grabbed a fist full of his shirt.

She yanked him down so he was face to face with her and yelled, “Get me to the hospital — now.”

“Yes, ma’am!” DuBois swears he had never seen such a fury in her eyes. “Can you walk?”

“N-No,” she whimpered, head thrown back and throat exposing a prominent vein.

DuBois didn’t know what else to do, so he just started pushing Rick’s office chair towards the door with Delphia still sitting in it. He redialed Rick’s number as he pushed her out the door and down the ramp towards his car.

“She yelled at me to take her to the ‘ospital — so we’re goin’. Just meet us there. Like I fuckin’ know.” He pulled the phone away and asked Delphia, “How far apart are the contractions?”

“Five minutes,” she huffed, gripping DuBois’ hand tight as he helped her into the front seat.

“She says five minutes. Yeah. Okay. See ya there.” He hung up the phone. “He’s gonna meet us there, love. It’s gonna be alrigh’.”

Delphia could only whimper back as another contraction hit her. Fuck. Everyone said that labor and delivery was painful, but Jesus, they weren’t kidding. This fucking hurt. Tears slipped from her eyes, she gripped her seatbealt till the fabric dug into her palms, her limbs thrashed around kind of hurt. And she just wanted Rick to be there. To hold her hand, to look over at her with worry and maybe a pinch of excitement. To be the promised calm amongst her storm. But instead she was stuck with fucking DuBois for the time being. Who really, truly, cared — but it just wasn’t the same.

She was now regretting very much that she pushed Rick to leave that morning. Telling him over and over that everything was fine and nothing was going to happen while he was out interviewing that family.

The hospital was only three minutes away from their rental office space. DuBois pulled up to the emergency doors with screeching tires and lips pulled between his teeth. Delphia was screaming bloody murder in the passenger seat. An ER doctor and a nurse with a wheelchair ran out the doors to meet them. DuBois opened the car door and Delphia had to be pulled out of it painfully slowly. She could feel it now, the baby pressing hard against her pelvis and the pain was nearing on constant.

Fear gripped her heart. What if Rick missed it?

“Mm — where’s Rick?” she asked, her words garbled with groans and whines of pain as she was lowered into the wheelchair.

DuBois pulled out his phone. “Like I fuckin’ know.”

“Are you the father?” the doctor asked as they wheeled Delphia inside, DuBois trailing behind awkwardly.

“Er — no. Just a family friend.”

“Alright, sweetie, what’s your name?” the nurse asked kindly over Delphia’s groans.

“Delphia Holman-Flag,” she panted back.

“How long have you been having contractions, Delphia?”

“Thirty minutes!” she screamed as another contraction creschedoed, “My water broke around the same time — fuck, I feel like I gotta push.”

Outside, Rick barely pulled his Jeep into the lot before he was running towards the entrance. He could see DuBois’ car still parked in the emergency loop, engine running and everything. He hoped that meant they hadn’t been there long. He barreled through the emergency doors and found DuBois just standing there fidgeting with his phone nervously.

“DuBois!” Rick called out as he approached at a jog, the other man looked relieved to see him, “Where’s Dee?”

“They carted her off to maternity, man,” DuBois explained, “Wasn’t allowed to come with cause I’m not family.”

Rick started off in the right direction, but quickly turned back to his friend and said, “Thank you. One last favor though.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Just — you can go home. But can you bring the bag later tonight?”

“Ugh, fine. Whatever.” DuBois rolled his eyes, but even Rick could see that he was smiling.

“Thanks, man!” Rick called over his shoulder before he started jogging in the direction of the maternity ward.

But then he got stopped just before the big double doors by a nurse. “Sir, you can’t go in there.”

“My wife’s in there,” he said, attempting to go past the nurse and through the doors.

But he was stopped by a hand on his chest. “That’s all well and good — but you need to check in with the visitors desk before you can go in. It’s a restricted area.”

Rick felt his insides boiling. He was not going to miss the birth of his kid just because he needed to check in at some desk. He took in a lungful of air, ready to bark orders like he had been trained to do and push this nurse out of his way. But then the both of them were distracted by a loud scream from behind the maternity ward doors. Followed by —

“Shit! Somebody page Dr. Taylor!”

“Why didn’t anyone say she was a fucking metahuman!”

Without a second thought he pushed the nurse from his path and crashed through the double doors. Delphia hadn’t even made it to a room. She was sitting right there in the hallway with her pants around her ankles. The entire hallway was filled with Ether, a white smoke that flashed with light that emanated from Delphia. Her eyes practically glowed they were so white. She was panting and holding her knees to her chest and for a moment Rick was stunned by the power she possessed.

He was married to one of the most powerful people in the universe. God, he was lucky.

“Where’s my husband?” she cried out, breaking him from his spell.

Rick rushed to her side, collapsing to his knees on the floor beside her and taking up her much smaller hand in his own. At his touch, the white instantly faded from her eyes. Her head snapped over to look at him.

“Hey, baby girl, I’m here. I’m here,” he whispered, moving her damp hair out of her face.

“Rick,” she whimpered, “Thought you were gonna miss it.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for anything, baby.”

A woman in a white coat approached the two of them on the floor, hastily pulling on a pair of white gloves as she said, “I’m Dr. Taylor, metahuman care specialist. You ready to have a baby?”

Delphia nodded, her breathing picking up.

“Alright — Dad, I’m gonna need you to sit behind her and support her back. Help keeps her knees tight to her chest,” the doctor instructed.

Rick slid in between the wall and Delphia’s back, hands curling around the back of her thighs to keep her legs in place. He gave her neck a few sweet kisses, mumbling I love you’s into her ear.

“On three you’re gonna push, okay? One, two, three!”

_____________________________________________________________

Rick pulled into the driveway with heavy eyes but the lightest heart he’s had in years. Delphia was smiling in the backseat, a sleepy thing laced with a lazy joy, blue eyes trained on the car seat beside her.

Where the tiniest baby boy slept. Wearing a little green hat and matching striped onesie. And he was the most beautiful thing either of them had ever seen. He was so small, so perfect. With dark eyes like his father and pure white hair just like his mother. Th perfect reminder that life was so fragile but so worth it. Rick would never admit to anyone that he cried when he held his son for the first time, but Delphia would have that image seared into her mind for the rest of her days.

He killed the engine and asked, “You ready?”

Delphia only hummed in reply as she unbuckled. She was exhausted, in every muscle and fiber of her being. But she felt so happy that she didn’t even care. Rick helped her out of the Jeep first, making sure she was stable on her feet before running around to the other side and taking out the car seat gently.

They walked up to the front door hand in hand.

“Is it bad of me to hope that they all left the house?” Rick asked as Delphia opened the door.

“Maybe,” she replied, “Just know that it’s all love — they’re trying their best.”

He grunted as they walked through the door, mind focused on the next step of getting the baby up to their bedroom so they could all take a nap. But he was stopped in his tracks by the massive banner hanging up across the stairs.

Welcome Home Baby!

And the squad was waiting beneath it. Cleo and Harley were beaming, both of them nearly vibrating with excitement at the sight of them. Abner looked nervous, hands fiddling together as he stared at the baby unsurely. DuBois looked like he was trying to keep up an aggravated facade, but was struggling to keep it up now that they were there. And Nanaue, well Nanaue was definitely there.

“Before anyone says anything,” Delphia began with a raise of her finger, stopping Harley just as she was taking in a massive breath to start speaking, “I wanna lay some ground rules. No yelling in the house from now on, please, I beg of you. If you wake this child up while he’s napping or sleeping or whatever I will beat you myself. We’ll introduce you to hold him one at a time — not all at once. And please, for the love of God, no encouragement of criminal activity. Any questions?”

“What’s his name?” Cleo asked quietly, pointing her finger to the car seat.

Rick lifted up the car seat so they all could see the baby better with a smile.

“Everybody — we’d like you to meet Leo Richard Flag.”

Taglist (if you would like to be tagged in future installments, just let me know!): @bbygrgu @a-reader-and-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16 @runic-belova @weallhaveadestiny @oopsiedoopsie23 @nerdgrrlramblings @ocfairygodmother

#rick flag #colonel rick flag #rick flag x oc #rick flag x delphia holman #rick flag imagine #rick flag fic #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #suicide squad imagine #suicide squad fic #suicide squad fanfic #suicide squad fanfiction #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman imagine #dceu imagine #dceu fic #dc oc #if i go universe #ocappreciation #dceu oc #dceu fanfiction #dceu fanfic

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

If I Go, I'm Goin' On Fire - Part 3 (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: Rick will do anything to get Dee back. Anything. Even call in the help of a woman he's pretty sure wants them dead.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC / Squad Family & OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 6268

Warnings: angst, language, death mention, coma mention, pregnancy talk

Timeline: April 2022

if i go masterlist

A/N: And this story arc is done! And I am somehow even more scared about this last part than any others! Hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading! ALSO shout out to @blooo0ooop for inspiring this entire thing with one comment about Dee's powers going out of control. You are the real MVP my love.

Two days. For two days Delphia laid there with no changes. Her parents were called and flown in from Baltimore. DuBois took over in the kitchen. And Rick Flag hardly left their bedroom.

He stayed at her side. Always holding her hand. Always trying to coax her back to him with soft words and touches. Others in the house commented on the fact that he looked thinner somehow. Like part of him was wasting away along with her. His eyes looked red and puffed with tears. He barely ate — hardly slept. All of his focus was on Delphia and keeping her alive until they could figure out how to get her back. He changed her clothes and the sheets when she soiled herself. He spoon-fed her broth and blended fruits and vegetables. Gently forced water down her throat. He would barely let anyone else touch her. Her parents having to force him to get some sleep.

And on the dawn of the third day, Fanny knocked on the door lightly before carrying into the room two steaming cups of coffee.

“Morning, Colonel,” she said as she handed him a mug.

Rick cleared his throat as he sat up and took the coffee gratefully. He looked tired down to his bones.

“Did the local hospital call back?” Fanny asked as she sat on the edge of the bed, adjusting the lay of her daughter’s hair with a careful hand.

“Yeah,” Rick rasped over the lip of his mug, “They’re not equipped for metahuman care. Closest one is Metropolis — four hours away.”

“Well, you know my opinion.”

“I’m not callin’ her.” Rick nearly glared at the back of Fanny’s head as she continued to fuss over the lay of Delphia’s clothes.

“Amanda Waller is a lot of things, Colonel. But she’s never been completely cold-hearted towards us.”

Rick scoffed. “You never worked for her.”

“No, I didn’t,” Fanny sighed, finally turning from Delphia to look at Rick with her kind, wrinkled, brown eyes, “But when Ducky was growing up — she always came to help us. I believe she’ll show up now. Even though you aren’t on the best of terms.”

“That’s a bit of an understatement,” Rick replied.

“Look, she knows more than anyone about Delphia’s abilities. Arlo and me….We only taught her how to keep them under control. Not how to use them. That was all Amanda.” Fanny got up from the bed and placed a hand on Rick’s shoulder. “She can help.”

“What if I don’t want her help?” Rick grumbled, eyes focused on Delphia’s unmoving hand.

Fanny bristled. Stood to her full height. A fearsome, motherly look in her eye that Rick hadn’t seen from anyone in over a decade. It nearly made his heart stop and his eyes bulge from his head. It was terrifying — that maternal rage. More so than any enemy fire or metahuman criminal.

“If you don’t call her, that baby will die — my daughter will die. This isn’t your own personal tragedy anymore, Colonel. This affects everyone in this house.” Fanny picked up his phone that had been sitting idly on the nightstand and tossed it into his lap. “Now call Waller and protect my Delphia like you promised you would.”

Rick sighed as he got up from his chair, phone in hand, and left the room. He really didn’t want to do this. He would’ve been fine never seeing, never hearing from or about Amanda Waller ever again. She made their lives a living hell. But, he also couldn’t deny her some credit. If it wasn’t for her, hiring Delphia and himself, they never would’ve met in the first place. And he blanched to think how miserable his life would be without Delphia in it. It would be devoid, empty, pointless. An unmarked grave ready for him to fall in. He wouldn’t move on — couldn’t move on. Delphia was it for him. Always was, is, and will be. She was his past, present, and future. She was his one thing set in stone and to lose that —

Rick quickly found Waller’s contact and before he could overthink it — pressed the button to call her number.

She answered after two rings. “Whadda you want, Flag?”

“You know I wouldn’t be callin’ unless I had to,” Rick mumbled into the phone, looking up and down the hallway to make sure no one was coming, “It’s Delphia.”

“What about Delphia?”

“She’s been stuck in her Sight for two days. We’ve tried everything…Please. We need your help.”

Waller was silent on the other line for a few moments. Then she asked, “Is she pregnant?”

“Why does that matter?” Rick questioned with a furrowed brow.

“Shit. She is.” Waller sighed through the microphone. “Look, fine. Myself and a team will be there in two hours. You got room on your property for us to land a helicopter?”

“Yeah. Front lawn should be enough.”

“We have your location pinged from this device. Make sure it doesn’t shut off.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He hated how easily he fell back into following her orders. But this was for Delphia. He would do anything.

“And Flag — you did the right thing by calling me.” He could hear that knowing smirk on her face.

“Don’t make this any worse than it already is.” Rick moved to the doorway of their bedroom, where Fanny now sat reading Delphia one of her favorite books. “Just help her. Please.”

The plea tumbled from his mouth desperately, broken on tears that he didn’t mean to form.

“We’ll try, Colonel.”

The helicopter landed in their front yard two hours later. Rick stood just beyond the front door, arms crossed while everyone else peeked through the windows with worried looks and fears that they were all going to get arrested again. But when the team of doctors and scientists bustled through the door, none of them even so much as batted an eye at the ex-cons sitting in the living room. Their only focus was following Rick upstairs to where Delphia lay waiting.

Waller walked into the house with a look of mild interest. Their place was cute. Decorated simply but charmingly — clearly each piece chosen with love. She acknowledged the former inmates sitting in the living room, glaring at her and making rude gestures, with a nod of her head. Then she too was climbing the stairs with a controlled sense of calm.

The doctors were already tending to Delphia when Waller walked into the room. Hooking her up to an IV, a feeding tube, a catheter, and hooking her up to a heart monitor just in case. The usual for coma patients. Rick Flag was sitting at her side, holding her hand in both of his, as the OBGYN Waller brought along hooked up the fetal doppler.

“Alright, let’s make sure baby is okay,” the OBGYN said as she smeared the gel over Delphia’s exposed stomach and pressed the wand against her skin. “Heartbeat is a little weak…We’ll keep monitoring. As mom’s vitals improve so should baby’s.”

“Thank you,” Rick muttered as he pressed Delphia’s hand to his lips.

“Hello, Amanda,” Arlo said as he walked up to the woman with a cordial smile, his wife Fanny following behind.

Always so nice, that man. Waller flashed a smile with no teeth. “Arlo. Fanny. Good to see you both.”

“Been a long time,” Fanny said with a shake of her head, “Wish it was under better circumstances. Like a wedding.”

“Oh.” Waller glanced down to Delphia’s hand to in fact see a ring sparkling there. “I wasn’t invited.”

“You weren’t?” Fanny asked, giving Rick a glare that he only shrugged at with a look that said what do you want me to say right now, “Well, you are now. After all the help you’ve given already.”

“But from what I’ve heard — “ Arlo butted in, mustache bristling, “S’that you could’ve told us something earlier. Made this never happen. The Colonel says you specifically asked if Dee was pregnant — so why’s that if you didn’t know something already?”

Waller uncrossed her arms with a sigh. “Colonel Flag, if you could come with us out into the hallway, please. Let the doctors work for a minute.”

Rick let go of Delphia reluctantly. He really didn’t want to leave her. Not now. Not when there seemed like there was hope for the first time. But when he saw Arlo’s back as he too retreated from the doorway, he got up from his chair and followed them out.

Waller had the four of them in a tight circle in the hallway so she could speak to them in a hushed voice.

“There is information I neglected to share with you — and Delphia herself.” Waller placed one hand on her hip while the other rubbed her forehead. “Which I’m now realizing was not in anyone’s best interest — even my own. When Frida Holman died we performed an autopsy and found the source of her power. A gland surrounding her heart that was not carbon-based.”

“Not carbon-based — what does that mean?” Rick asked.

Arlo answered, “Everything on and from Earth is carbon-based matter. And most things not of this world, like kryptonite, are non-carbon-based matter.”

“Exactly. We could also assume that this gland is the evolutionary leftovers of the Holman bloodline — dating back all the way to the aliens that gave them these abilities. After running a few tests, it was discovered that this gland actually produces a hormone that — somehow — allows the Holmans to look into the future.”

“This is great’n’all — but how does this help Dee?”

“Frida Holman did not go into a Sight induced coma due to a random event after Delphia was born. She went into that coma while she was still pregnant with her. At about twelve weeks to be exact.”

Arlo and Fanny wrapped their arms around each other’s shoulders, choked noises escaping their throats as they comprehended Waller’s meaning. But Rick only crossed his arms and clenched his jaw. Tight. So hard he felt like he was going to crack a molar. He didn’t want to hear anymore. He knew what was happening. But still, Waller went on:

“At this point, we can only guess that the same thing is happening to Delphia. That fetus she’s carrying has begun to produce the hormone as well — giving Delphia a 200-percent increase in the hormone’s production in her system.”

“Meaning she can’t turn it off,” Rick sighed.

“Correct.” Waller nodded solemnly.

Fanny and Arlo fully hugged each other then, Fanny’s shoulders shaking with sobs as she hid her face in her husband’s shirt. There was nothing those scientists and doctors could do to get Delphia back. The only thing they could do was keep her alive for now while her mind was driven mad.

And Rick — Rick felt like his very blood was on fire. Like his stomach had bottomed out. Like the world was collapsing and falling into place all at once. It was all starting to make sense. The sudden nature of what happened. Delphia’s inability to come out of it. There was no hope here. And it made him so angry. The only thing keeping him from punching a hole in the wall being his calm military training and the constant flex of his fists. Delphia wouldn’t want him to react that way. If she were here, she’d take that twitching hand in hers and give it a hard squeeze. Force him to look at her, only her, focus him on something else at least for a moment. But she wasn’t here. She was lying in bed where she would remain for the rest of her days. However long that was.

It was as if a darkness was welling up inside him. A hatred. A sorrow. An impossible terror. It rose up and up his throat until it escaped him in a scream:

“God — fucking — damn it! Why didn’t you fuckin’ say anything? Why’d you wipe that outta Frida’s file? Huh? Did it give you some leverage over Dee — over me — that you couldn’t pass up on? Was that it?” He pressed a finger into Waller’s chest, shoulders heaving with each breath, eyes crazed and full of tears. “Cause we weren’t even fucking trying when she got pregnant. It was just a — a happy accident. She was so — so happy. So excited to be a mom.”

It nearly made him scream all over again when he realized he just spoke about her in the past tense. The past tense.

“Thank you for your help — “ Rick leaned over Waller, pushing his finger into her chest one more time, his face inches from her’s as he growled, “But if you ever come near her again — I’ll fucking kill you myself.”

With that, he turned and went back inside the bedroom. Waller looked to Fanny and Arlo, that couple that was always so kind, and neither of them would even glance in her direction. Waller turned with a sigh towards the railing, but she found the entire squad looking up at her with new disgust on their faces. Having heard every word. Amanda Waller dropped her head with a sigh.

She really fucked it up this time.

“How’s she doin’, mate?” DuBois said as he walked into the quiet bedroom, the doctors having given Delphia a break and left to consult their lab results in the kitchen.

Rick sat at her bedside with his head in his hands. Usually so vigilant, he didn’t hear DuBois come into the room until he was already halfway inside and speaking. Rick lifted his head to look at his friend, knowing that there was plenty of evidence that he had been crying for a good long time. He quickly wiped as much of the tears and snot from his face as possible.

“Ugh — she’s — “ Rick cleared his throat of phlegm and tried again. “She’s stable. Vitals are all good.”

“And the baby?” DuBois asked.

“Good. Heartbeat’s strong.” Rick choked on a fresh wave of tears that he fought against hard, his voice coming out in barely a whisper. “Um….Doctors said they could keep Dee alive until the baby was born. Just like they did with her biological mom. But uh — I never — I never pictured doin’ this without her, ya know?”

DuBois pulled up one of the other chairs in the room beside Rick and sat down with a groan. “I wish I knew what ta tell you. How ta…Make you feel betta’. But — this situation just fucking sucks, man.”

“Yeah.” Rick nodded his head. “It really fucking does.”

There was silence for a long time. A good kind of silence that was respectful and full of a mutual comradery that really only came when you’d been through battle together. A safe space that allowed Rick to grieve, to cry without judgment, and for DuBois to be there for his friend. To place a comforting hand on his shoulder. To let him know that he wasn’t alone. Not in this. Not in anything.

“I just — I just wanna say goodbye,” Rick suddenly spoke, “Wanna see her smile one more time. Hear her voice. I just wanna talk — “

Rick straightened up. His eyes were wide, lost somewhere else — deep in thought. Then he was bolting from the room and before DuBois could even begin to follow he could hear Rick taking the stairs two at a time.

Rick walked into the kitchen to find Waller and her scientists sitting at the bar, looking over some data and tablets.

“Flag, I was just about to get you. We found some interesting information on Delphia’s brain scan and — “ one of the doctors tried to say.

“Stop talking,” Rick said as he came up to Waller, who got up from her stool defensively.

“Alrighty then.”

“Was Frida Holman ever able to show anyone her visions? Take them into the future with her?” Rick asked hurriedly.

“No. Not that I’m aware — “ Waller responded just as Rick did an about-face and walked out of the kitchen again. She got up and followed at a light jog. “Colonel, what is this about?”

“Dee and me figured out a few years back that she could — that we could look into the future together,” Rick explained as he went up the stairs, Waller and a few of the other scientists, doctors, Delphia’s parents, and the squad trailing behind, “She said she didn’t think it was possible.”

“It shouldn’t be,” the scientist carrying her file said, “Her power is generated by a hormone — that can’t be transferred to someone else.”

“Oh, it’s possible, doctor. There are things about the Holman’s that we will never understand because they are always — partially — going to be not of this Earth.” Waller struggled to keep up with Rick’s long strides as he went back towards his bedroom. “Is that how you avoided dying during all those missions, Colonel?”

Rick looked back over his shoulder at her as he walked through the threshold. “Possibly.”

Rick climbed up onto the bed beside Delphia, gently turning her on her side — making sure not to disturb any of the wires and tubes coming out of her. He had avoided being in this bed for two days. It felt wrong. Lying next to her when she was like that. He’d forgotten what it was like to sleep without her beside him. How he had done it for all those years, how he had ever gone away from her, was beyond him now. It made any rest he had gotten the past few days uneasy and fitful.

“Colonel Flag,” Waller stopped him with the sharp call of her voice, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Everyone was staring at him. Worry etched into their faces. Harley and Cleo held each other, tear tracks on their cheeks from days of crying and Sebastian curled solemnly on Cleo’s shoulder. Abner and Nanaue stood next to each other, both of them equally miserable-looking. And DuBois, he simply looked concerned as he stepped out in front of the group slowly.

“If you try to do what I think you are, mate — You’re only gonna get stuck there with her,” DuBois cautioned.

“Not stuck,” Rick whispered, turning back to Delphia and skimming his fingers over her cheek, “Not if it’s her.”

“But — But what about the baby?” Harley questioned.

Rick’s face pinched in pain. There was the possibility that he was going to get pulled into a coma as well. But he had to try. He just had to. And he was confident that even though Delphia couldn’t pull herself out, she would be able to pull him in and push him out at will. There was no way he was abandoning their baby. And there was no way that he was leaving Delphia to be driven mad in there either.

“Look, I’m not even sure if anythin’s gonna happen or not. All I know is that I gotta try. I gotta talk to her. And if this could help…I’m gonna see it done.”

There was silence as Rick looked at the group of experts, family, and friends. Then Fanny spoke with her soft, wavering voice and said, “Do it. Save my little girl, Colonel. Please.”

Rick nodded then laid down on his side, guiding Delphia’s hands to wrap around his head. He always hated going into her visions of the future. Hated how out of body it felt. How out of control. How foreign. But none of that mattered. He would go anywhere — do anything — to get her back. To have those blue eyes looking up at him again. To hear that snort-like laugh that she hated but he loved. To have her curl around him in her sleep like a koala. To hear her complain about milk prices and how long it takes to caramelize onions. To talk about baby names and how they’ll paint the nursery and how all of it was so terrifying but exciting. He wanted her back. All of her. And he wouldn’t stop until he accomplished his mission.

With a hand on her hip, Rick focused on those other-wordly white eyes and muttered, “Come on, Dee. Baby, let me in. Come on.”

For a minute, nothing happened. But just as he was about to pull away, completely and utterly defeated, a shiver, as a finger of ice, ran up his spine. Ending in a feeling like his brain had a snowball thrown at it. Then his vision blurred, was overcome with white —

Then he was somewhere else entirely.

Rick was confused at first. This definitely didn’t feel like Earth. The stone the walls were made of too foreign-looking. The water-like light dancing across the floor too ethereal. Then there were the four massive, white-colored aliens sitting in thrones at the end of the room.

He panicked for a moment. What if the Sight took him someplace that she was not? But then he heard her voice, loud and clear:

“And who are you to decide who’s fucking worthy of your oh so glorious power? Who do you think you are — fucking Excaliber? I didn’t ask to be born and I certainly didn’t ask to have your special gift. And — And neither did my baby. That’s your own damn fault. So own up to it.”

There she stood. At the base of the four thrones with a finger pointed and red hair flowing down her back. God, of course, she was fucking arguing with aliens. Of fucking course she was. That was his Delphia. Filled with a quiet rage that once stoked enough would explode in a beautiful firework of hefty arguments and logic. He had been on the receiving end of it plenty of times to know. And had watched, slightly horny if he was being honest with himself, as she unleashed it on others.

Rick chuckled breathlessly as he took a step towards her.

But then the aliens stood up, creating wisps of smoke that sparked with light — an ether of some kind — and shaped them into weapons pointed directly at Rick all the way from across the room. Rick instantly lifted his hands in surrender. No weapons. No nothing. And there was no way in hell he was taking on an alien force he knew nothing about.

Delphia whipped around, fire-red hair flicking over her shoulder. Rick? How was he here? When did he get here? Oh, but none of that mattered. None of that mattered in the slightest. A laugh, joyous and choked with sudden tears, bubbled up in her throat as she ran towards him.

She crashed into him like the sea to the rocky shore. Loud and thunderous and powerful. Her arms serpentined around his shoulders while his own crushed her waist, curled up her back like he couldn’t get enough of her. Couldn’t get her close enough. She could feel his heavy breath against her neck, his lips against her flesh. Her fingers wove into his hair as she held him. As he held her. Beautiful and perfect and true.

“Who are you?” the lead alien asked.

Delphia quickly pulled away from Rick and turned to face them again. “This is — uh — this is my fiance, Colonel Rick Flag.”

“And what are you?” another asked.

“Er — “ Rick didn’t understand the question as he put a protective arm around Delphia’s waist. “Just a man, I guess.”

“Another human? And not a descendant of the Holman bloodline?”

“It would be mighty awkward to find that out at this point,” Rick said.

“It’s true.” One of the aliens looked up from flicking through a piece of ether. “He is just a man — with no connection to us or the Oracles of old.”

“Oh, thank God,” he muttered.

“How did you get here Colonel Rick Flag?” the leader asked.

“Ah, no — No more questions. Not until you’ve answered some of mine first.” Rick stepped in front of Delphia, pulling her back behind him in a show of protection and dominance. “What the fuck is goin’ on? Who are you and what the fuck do you want?”

Delphia peeked her head out from behind Rick’s broad back with a finger raised and an awkward cough. “Um — sorry. You mind if I explain this to him?”

“As you wish.” The lead alien inclined his head.

She took Rick’s hand and led him further back into the room, throwing a quick bow over her shoulder towards the four aliens — unsure if that was even proper etiquet at this point. She had just been yelling at them very rudely. But they seemed like the type she was supposed to bow to. So she did. Once they were far enough away that she felt it was private enough, she let go of Rick’s hand and allowed him to stand in front of her with his arms crossed.

“So, um, first off — hi. Good to see you.” She reached up and touched his cheek with a smile. “Er — second — these guys are….the Lords of Time. Ya know, those alien ancestors I told you about. Apparently they gave my ancestors the power to see into the future as a way to test if humanity was somehow worthy of gaining these abilities. Those four are all that remain of their kind but they believe that time needs to be checked and balanced by an unbiased third party and blah blah blah. So before they die they’re looking for another species to pass the power off to.

“They noticed — as I was tumbling through the timeline — that I uh….Well, I destroyed it. I destroyed the fucking timeline. Didn’t know I could do that. So now they’re questioning me to see if I’m worthy or not of gaining full access to my abilities and continuing on as a new era and generation of Time Lord. Did any of that make sense?”

Rick stared at her long and hard for a moment. She could see the gears turning behind his eyes as he uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his hips.

He pointed back at the aliens. “So….Those guys’re your grandparents?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You — You destroyed the timeline? Like the flow of time?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And now your grandparents wanna give you….More powers because they’re dying. Like an inheritance.”

“Yeah kinda. If they unlock these other powers — it’s the only way I’m gonna get back to the present and my real body. Or — our real bodies now I guess.”

“What the fuck.” Rick rubbed his hands over his face with a sigh. “This is not what I was expecting when I did this. Also — Did you just call yourself a timelord? Like Doctor fucking Who?”

“Shut up. How did you get here, by the way?” Delphia lowered her voice to a hushed whisper, eyes flicking over to the aliens to make sure they couldn’t hear.

Rick bent in closer to her ear. “Ya know, I did that thing we used to do back at Belle Reve. Put your hands on my head and let you take me.”

“But I didn’t do anything.”

“You didn’t?” Rick’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t hear or feel me or anythin’?”

“No. I haven’t been able to feel the outside world for at least a few hours now.”

Rick’s expression crumbled. Delphia almost didn’t want him to say anything more. Knowing that it was going to be bad news.

“Dee, how long do you think you’ve been under for?” he asked.

“Four — five hours. Why?”

“It’s been three days.”

“Three days?” she shouted, turning before Rick could stop her and marching back to her alien ancestors with her face pinched in fury and fists clenched, “Three days? You’ve had me trapped in the Sight for three fucking days?”

“It did not seem pertinent to tell you.”

“I’m fucking pregnant you dickhead!” Delphia took off her shoe and chucked it at the nearest one, hitting them square in the chest but it seemed to affect them little. “I can’t just be comatose for days at a time that’s — “

Understanding. Dread. Her body stiffened as she felt Rick come up behind her. Place his hand on her hip. She looked up into his face, to find some comfort. But there wasn’t any there. Only a confirmation that what she was thinking was right.

Delphia looked back to the Lords of Time with a sickened expression. “This happened to my mother…Didn’t it?”

“Correct.” One of them nodded. “This has happened to every female Holman in your bloodline for the past 100 years. A symptom of becoming less and less like us. You befall pregnant, and at the proper time — when the fetus is developed enough — go into your Sight where you shall remain until your child is born. It’s a very natural process.”

“And how many mothers survived this process?” Rick asked, voice teetering on a growl.

“None.”

“You did nothing…For all those years.” Delphia could only stare at the floor as she spoke, hand reaching back to grip Rick tight. An anchor for her soul. “What made me so special?”

“You proved yourself to be more powerful than any Oracle that came before you. You were able to destroy a timeline without even being shown how.”

Delphia narrowed her eyes. “So I’ve already proven myself to be powerful enough to be granted my bonus abilities and to be sent back to my real body. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Powerful enough to contain and wield these powers, yes. However, it still needs to be determined if you are worthy to possess them.”

“Y’all’re a bunch of sanctimonious bastards, you know that?” Rick grunted, hazel eyes like daggers of ice over warming whiskey.

“Silence!” one of them spoke, voice like a cracking whip through the empty room, “You are nothing but a mere mortal in the presence of gods. We wield time in its purest form — have presided over the flow of time itself. You have no room to speak here.”

“And you are nothing but a bunch of sanctimonious bastards — drunk on power thinking that you’re worthy enough to deem others worthy,” Delphia agreed, giving Rick’s hand a tight squeeze of assurance.

The lead alien had been silent for a long time. Eyes trained on the ether that flowed around them. They were looking for something. Searching. Trying to find understanding in the flow of events that had changed since Delphia started the timeline over anew. And they seemed to find it when their dark eyes snapped back to the couple standing before them.

“You were brought here by Delphia,” they whispered nearly in awe.

“Unintentionally,” Delphia replied.

“You mean to say that you have done this before — intentionally?”

“Yes.” Delphia narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the lead alien. “Rick’s the only person I’ve ever been able to take with me into my Sight.”

The aliens only looked at each other with wide, thoughtful eyes. The ones who had been so against Delphia from the beginning giving consensual nods with hefty sighs. For the first time since being transported to this room, Delphia felt hope rising in her chest. A real, genuine thing that had her gripping Rick’s hand just a bit tighter.

“Under our law, what Time has bonded together cannot be separated. You two have forged something that has not been seen in over a millennia. What our people used to call One’s Promised. The ability to share the Time Plane with another mind and soul.” The lead alien stood to their full height, towering up to the ceiling. “Delphia Holman, we find you worthy.”

Their massive, white hand stretched out. Delphia watched, stunned and terrified, on instinct pushing Rick back behind her, as an alien finger connected with her forehead.

Delphia screamed. A flash of white light filled the room. Rick was blown back off his feet.

And Rick was the first to wake up in their shared bedroom. His eyes snapped back into focus and he sat up, removing Delphia’s hands from his head gently. He hardly even noticed that everyone else was still in the room — that everyone was waiting on bated breath. All he could see, all he could think about was Delphia. On his knees, he moved the hair out of her face. But he lept back and off the bed when her hair began to turn white at the root.

No one spoke. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

The fire red slowly faded from Delphia’s hair. Overpowered with a pure snow white. And when the white reached the tips of her hair, an ether, like glowing smoke, burst from her and filled the room.

“Flag,” Harley said in a hushed whisper as she looked around skeptically at the glowing mist, “The fuck is goin’ on?”

“Not entirely sure.” Rick stepped closer. “Might have somethin’ to do with those…Extra abilities they were talkin’ about.”

Suddenly, Delphia sat up in bed. She felt like she was coming up for air after being underwater for a long time. A gasp burst from her as she sucked in lungfulls of oxygen. Her eyes snapped open. Relieved to find that she was no longer in nightmarish visions of the future or in the gloomy halls of an alien spaceship. Her friends and family stood before her. Looking worried and frightened, but they were all there. Alive and well — with beating hearts and futures already changing. There were hands on her shoulders. Delphia turned. Rick was on his knees at the edge of the bed, joyous tears in his eyes and a smile on his face.

“Rick,” she whispered.

She reached out and touched her fingers to his cheek. She could feel his flesh, warm and full of life. Without a second thought she latched onto him. Arms encircling his neck and pulling him in as close as she could get.

It was over. Thank God, it was over.

Delphia looked, as she continued to hold Rick in a tight embrace, at the small crowd that now celebrated amongst themselves. Her parents were there laughing and holding one another. The squad were all hugging with tears on their cheeks. But Delphia locked eyes with Amanda Waller.

A nod was shared between them. A mutual understanding.

And then she left.

After her story had been shared over as much pizza as she could eat, Delphia and Rick went up to bed. Because even though she hadn’t technically moved in three days, she felt exhausted.

In her pajamas, she stood in front of the full-length mirror worrying over the white strands of her hair. It was definitely going to take some getting used to. And those aliens could have at least mentioned that gaining new abilities would also come with a dye job. Rick came up behind her as she ran her fingers through it one last time. He smiled tiredly at her in the reflection as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Do you like it?” she asked quietly.

“Baby, it’s you,” he whispered, voice rasping and deep, as he swayed them side to side, “Of course I like it.”

They stayed like that for a while. Rick’s hands wandering, memorizing all over again. He lingered over the sweet swell of her belly the longest. His face was lost in the crook of her neck, shrouded by a curtain of white hair. But she could feel, after a few minutes, the hot tears that were dripping onto her skin.

“Babe?” She tugged at his arm, tried to get him to look at her.

“Dee — baby.” His voice came out croaked and strained. “Will you just…Hold me — for a little while?”

Without another word, she led him back to their bed. She laid down on top of the sheets first, then with a smile, patted her chest and opened her arms to him. Rick chuckled, but did as he was told. Stripped down to his briefs, he climbed on top of her.

“Careful, big guy,” she warned as he began to lay fully on top of her, “Don’t squish the baby.”

Rick quickly ducked down, deft fingers pushing up his own t-shirt she had decided to wear to bed. He pressed a gentle, loving kiss to her flesh — just below the navel.

“Sorry, little guy.”

“Little guy?” Delphia questioned with a smile as he replaced her shirt and laid down with his head on her chest.

Rick shrugged. “Just a feelin’.”

One hand traced lines and circles up and down his broad back. The other held the back of his head to her chest. She could feel him relax into her. Like a rocket landing back on earth after a decade spent amongst the stars. Finally finding where he fit. His shoulders relaxed. But he still released a shuddering breath as he wrapped his arms beneath her. Encompassing her in nothing but Rick Flag.

“I was so scared,” he admitted.

“It’s okay.” Delphia ran her fingers through his hair. “I’m here now. Not going anywhere. Listen to my heart — listen to the beat of it.”

They fell asleep like that. In each other’s arms. Alive, happy, and free.

Taglist (if you would like to be tagged in future installments just let me know!): @bbygrgu @a-reader-and-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16 @runic-belova @weallhaveadestiny @oopsiedoopsie23 @nerdgrrlramblings @ocfairygodmother

#rick flag #colonel rick flag #rick flag fic #rick flag x delphia holman #rick flag x oc #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #rick flag imagine #suicide squad fanfic #suicide squad fanfiction #suicide squad imagine #suicide squad fic #the suicide squad #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman imagine #dceu imagine #dceu fic #dc oc #ocappreciation #dceu oc #dceu fanfiction #dceu fanfic

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

@heygerald asked: 1) Rick is left alone with the baby and 2) Dee goes back to work since her whole catatonic episode. Just dad!Rick struggling to keep his sanity with a baby, a house of mentally insane criminals, and no wife at his side.

If I Go Universe - Baby's Day Out (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: When Eleanor invites Dee on a well-deserved weekend getaway, of course, Rick tells her that she can go. He's got this. He's ex-special forces and led the Suicide Squad for years - he can handle a few days alone in the house with little Leo and the Squad Family. Or maybe he can't.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC / Squad Family & OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 3432

Warnings: dad!flag deserves his own warning, language, kind of missing child mention, flufff

Timeline: August 2023

if i go masterlist

“Are you sure you guys are gonna be okay while I’m gone?” Delphia asked for what felt like the tenth time as she packed up her weekend bag.

Rick sat on the edge of the bed with Leo in his lap, the one-year-old playing with a dead remote to a TV they replaced a long time ago. Screw all the fancy baby toys they got him. Leo may have had that signature white hair just like his mom, but Delphia was pretty sure — day by day — he was becoming more and more like his dad. He was already so curious and loving, generous and easy to make laugh. God, that baby’s laugh. It was contagious and loud and the most joyous thing Delphia had ever heard. He liked to wiggle around to music and play with Nanaue in the pool. And just last week, Leo finally figured out how to walk. It was stumbling and slow and he fell back on his butt more often than not but he was walking. It was an act that Delphia and Rick could watch all day long.

Rick sighed as he looked down at the one-year-old’s head. “She has no confidence in us.”

“I have confidence in you!” she defended, “I just, um….Feel guilty?”

“There’s nothing to feel guilty for, baby girl.” Rick stood from the bed, Leo held with his back to his father’s chest while he squealed in delight over finally getting the remote in his mouth. “You haven’t gone anywhere in almost a year. You deserve a weekend away.”

Delphia bit her lip as she looked at them, her boys. She really did want to go on this mini-vacation with Eleanor. They had rented a cabin and Asheville and had a tour of the Biltmore scheduled for tomorrow. It was going to be a weekend full of too much wine, old high school gossip, and probably fondly remembering when they could drink that much and not have a massive hangover. She wanted to do that with her friend. But she also wanted to just stay home with her baby and her husband. This was the first time she would be spending a long time apart from Leo. It was breaking her apart that she actually wanted to leave him for a few days.

“Hey, don’t,” Rick whispered as he cupped her cheek with his much larger hand, “Okay? I know that look. It’s okay to want some time away. It’s okay.”

She leaned into his touch with her eyes slipped shut. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. Go have fun.”

Delphia led the way down stairs, weekend bag on her shoulders and Rick trailing behind her with Leo babbling in his arms. Eleanor and DuBois were already standing in the entryway, holding hands as they said their final goodbyes.

“I’m not gonna miss you, like — at all,” DuBois said as he pulled Eleanor just that bit closer.

“Oh, really?” she challenged with a raised brow, “Bet you text me ten hours into the trip.”

DuBois smiled as he dropped his head. “Bet ya it’s more like five.”

“You’re such a little shit,” Eleanor laughed, then she noticed Delphia coming off the last step and said, “Took you long enough! Ready to go?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Delphia raised her hands in surrender. “I’m almost ready — just need one last thing.”

She turned to Rick with a smile, popped up on her toes so she could kiss him properly on the lips. She kissed him once, twice, three times before she finally pulled away with a hand to his chest.

“Love you, baby girl,” Rick muttered, an uncontrollable grin on his face.

“Love you too, babe.” Then she lifted Leo out of his arms and held him up over her head as he laughed. “And I love my little bean! Yes, I do! I love him so!”

Leo continued to giggle profusely as his mom showered his chubby cheeks with kisses. He accidently hit her in the face with the remote but she didn’t care. She lifted him up one last time to blow a raspberry into his belly, making him shriek with delight.

“Be a good boy for Daddy, okay?” she told Leo one last time before handing him back over to his father.

“We’re gonna be just fine,” Rick reassured.

“I know.”

Delphia pressed one final kiss to his lips and then Eleanor was practically dragging her out the door and towards the car. Rick and DuBois followed them out onto the front patio, both of them raising their hands in one final goodbye as the car sped down the gravel driveway towards the main road.

DuBois turned to Rick once they couldn’t see the car anymore, his own set of keys jingling as he spun them around his finger. “Alright — gonna go talk to that politician's wife a few towns over.”

“Congressman’s wife?” Rick asked, bouncing Leo in his arms.

“Yeah, yeah. Thinks he’s cheatin’ and wants us to look into it.”

Rick leveled DuBois with a look. “Man, I told you we’re not takin’ those kinda — “

“No, no — she thinks he’s cheatin’ on the election. S’why he’s won so many years in a row,” Dubois said.

“Oh, shit,” Rick said, “Definitely a job that’ll blow up in our faces if she’s wrong.”

“Which is why I’m gonna go talk to her. See what evidence she’s got.” DuBois shrugged as he walked down the front steps towards his vehicle.

“Don’t take it unless it feels absolutely solid!” Rick called after him.

DuBois opened the door and looked back at him with his head cocked. “That’s what she said!”

“Un-fuckin’-beliveable.” Rick shook his head as he watched DuBois duck inside his car and peel out of the driveway, then he looked down at Leo. “Oh, shit — sorry. You know your mom doesn’t like it when I cuss in front’a you. But guess who’s not fuckin’ here?”

Rick walked back inside the house, his son staring up at him like he was telling the absolute truth. “And besides, s’not like you can really understand me anyways. Let’s get you a snack, big guy.”

Leo wiggled and jumped in his father’s arms as they approached the kitchen, but Rick held him tight against his chest so he wouldn’t slip out. With the ease of someone who had been doing it for almost a year, Rick put Leo into his high chair and easily clipped him into it so he couldn’t go anywhere. He remembered the first few times he did it. He was scared to squish his legs through the holes and strapping him in was a whole five minute ordeal. But now it took less than ten seconds, and as Rick poured a bit of Leo’s favorite rice cereal out onto the tray, he felt a surge of confidence in his chest.

He could do this without Delphia. He would survive a few days without her. In fact, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t even have to call her about anything as he watched, a slight quirk to his lips, Leo concentrate with all his might on picking up one piece of cereal and shoving it in his open mouth. A dance breaking out across his little shoulders, a habit learned from his mom.

“Will you two stop! It’s my turn with the car!” Harley’s voice screeched from the living room.

“It is not!” Abner called back.

“You erased our names from the list, Harley!” Cleo whined, “You know that’s not right!”

“Well, at least now you know for next time that you need to use a pen.”

Harley waltzed into the kitchen first, face split into a wide grin and carkeys dangling from her painted fingers. Abner and Cleo were close behind, faces pulled down in anger and desperation. But as soon as they spotted Rick leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, the jilted pair instantly perked up.

“Colonel Flag! Tell Harley that she needs to give me the keys!” Cleo said, scurrying over to him with a pleading look in her eyes.

Rick sighed. Of course they chose today to act like a bunch of teenagers. But he still had that confidence raging in his chest. Filling him up like a balloon. He could do this. He’s handled conflicts with guns in everyones’ hands and someone else’s finger on a detonator. He could handle a little family squabble easy as pie.

“Okay, somebody tell me what’s goin’ on,” he ordered, picking himself up off the counter with his hands on his hips.

A perfect demonstration of why he was so deserving of the title Colonel.

“Okay, okay, so I was on the car list for this morning so I could drive to the store and get Sebastian more rat pellets.” Cleo put a hand to her chest then looked to Abner expectantly.

“And I was on the list for after she got back so I could go to the library and return all my books.”

“But, but Harley erased both of our names so she could go to town and buy nail polish,” Cleo said.

“It’s an emergency!” Harley interjected, “My nails look a fright and can’t go around lookin’ like this!”

Rick leveled her with a look he hoped read: you’re an adult, do better — a look he had seen Delphia give many members of the squad several times before. A look he had been on the receiving end of once or twice. And he watched, satisfied, as Harley gave him a pout that screamed she knew she was wrong. God, he was good.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” Rick said as he plucked the keys from Harley’s hand, “I’ll drive everybody to town in the van and everybody can do their errands. Sound fair?”

Everyone grumbled but they didn’t disagree, and that was enough for Rick to go off of. After snatching Leo back out of the high chair and stowing him safely away in his carseat, the five of them were off towards town. The car ride was unusually silent. Cleo’s arms were crossed and she only stared out the window, Sebastian sulking on her shoulder as if to copy his friend's mood. Abner flipped absentmindedly through the stack of books perched in his lap. And Harley sat in the front seat, fidgeting with the colorful rings on her fingers and biting at her lip harshly. Above it all Leo was babbling loudly, a noise no one was going to shush because at least he was happy.

Rick sighed, hands twisting the steering wheel in his grip. He needed to fix this. He was good at that, fixing things. Had been since he was a kid. So fixing a relationship between friends couldn’t be much different than making his RC car work, right?

“You need to apologize,” Rick muttered to Harley so no one else would hear.

“I know I do,” she sighed with a dramatic roll of her head, “It’s just that….bein’ good is hard.”

He shrugged. “It’s real easy to be a piece of shit. Giving a shit is what’s hard. But ya know….It’s worth it, if you’re givin’ a shit about the right people.”

“Da-da! Da-da!” Leo called out amongst his babbling.

“Hey, buddy.” Rick smiled, glancing in the rearview mirror to see his son’s chubby legs kicking wildly. “You good?”

“Ah! Ah!”

“Wonderful. Good to hear.”

“Thanks, Flag,” Harley spoke quietly, “You’re good at…knowin’ what to say.”

Rick puffed up his chest as he grinned. His pride and confidence swelled even more. He was doing great and Delphia was going to be shocked when she came home.

The five of them decided to park the van and walk to each of their destinations. It was a beautiful august day in North Carolina and luckily the stroller was stowed in the back of the vehicle. They had already stopped by the library for Abner, who came out with maybe even more books than he came in with. Then they stopped at the grocery store for Harley to pick out new nail polish, an ordeal that took twenty minutes in which she finally picked out a lovely shade of neon green. Now Harley, Abner, Rick, and Leo were waiting outside the petstore for Cleo to come back out with her bag of rat pellets.

As Rick pushed Leo’s stroller back and forth, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He really hoped it wasn’t Delphia calling him already to ask if everything was okay. And he was actually relieved when he pulled out his phone and saw that it was Cleo calling him instead.

“Hey, Ratatouille, what’s up?” he asked as he held the phone up to his ear.

“Hello, Colonel Flag,” she replied in a soft voice, “I forgot my wallet. Could you come in and help me?”

Rick glanced over at Harley and Abner. He would prefer not to leave Leo with them, but really it was only going to be a minute at the most. What could possibly happen in a few minutes?

So he tilted the phone away from his mouth and said, “Hey, guys — gonna head in for a few minutes. Watch him?”

“We got it,” Harley waved her hand flippantly, though Abner looked like he wanted to throw up.

“Thanks. Yeah. Yeah, Ratatouille, I’m comin’ in.”

It was only a few minutes. He was in and out of the store in five minutes. He paid and Cleo was grateful and he told her she didn’t have to pay him back even though she insisted. He felt on top of the world. He felt confident and cool and calm and capable of anything that life had to throw at him while he was the sole responsible adult in a house full of criminals and a baby.

In an instant it all came crashing down. In an instant he and his pride popped like an overfilled balloon.

Because as soon as he came out of the store with Cleo trailing happily behind him, he very much so noticed the fact that Leo was no longer in his stroller. And Harley and Abner were standing there empty handed.

He tried not to panic, tried not to feel that icy hand around his heart that made it hard to breathe. But for the moment, his son was missing. And as he marched over with a tight lip and sweating palms, he felt like he could’ve torn the world down in order to see him again.

“Guys, where’s Leo?” he asked once he reached Harley and Abner, voice stern and quiet.

“What’re you talkin’ about? He’s right — “ Harley bent over to look inside the stroller and popped up instantly with a frown. “Okay so he’s not right here.”

“Well where the fuck is he then?” Rick’s voice boomed, making Abner flinch.

Cleo gasped from behind him, her finger pointing straight out. “There!”

Rick looked to where she was pointing. There, across the street, waddling his way into the park was a baby with a mop of white hair and a sippy cup under his arm. Jesus, that kid could move fast. Without a second thought Rick started running towards the park, expert eyes trained on that bobbing white head.

But before he could make it a step off the sidewalk a car was honking it’s horn at him, forcing him to stop as it zoomed past. Rick glared at the car as it drove away, his entire chest aflame at the idea that his son was wandering around alone in the city park. But when the car was no longer blocking the park entrance from view, Leo was gone. Rick nearly yelped as he ran across the now-empty street. The flames inside were choking him now, making it hard to breathe. God, if Delphia could see him now — could see how his pride had led to a very disastrous fall. She would probably blow the timeline just to get Leo back safe. And right about then Rick was feeling the exact same way.

“Do you see him?” Abner asked, panting, as the other three joined Rick in the park.

“No,” Harley replied.

A high-pitched laugh echoed in the quiet, grassy area of the park's entrance. Rick turned towards the sound and there Leo was, standing beside a trash can with a huge grin on his face like they were playing a game.Rick sprinted across the grass, desperate to have his son safe in his arms again and to know that he was alright. In an instant, Leo was squealing with playful delight as his father snatched him from the grass at top speeds.

Rick panted as he hugged Leo to his chest, smoothed his hand over that head of white hair. His heart was pounding in his ribcage, thumping in his very ears. Where once his muscles had been pulled taught, ready to pull the world apart, he now felt exhaustion creeping in its place. He glanced at the other three as they approached slowly, relieved and also guilting expressions on all their faces.

Pulling Leo back just enough to look into his chubby face, Rick spoke sternly, “Leo Richard Flag, that was not fuckin’ cool.”

Rick nearly wanted to take it back as he watched his son’s smiling mouth turned down into a nearly comedic frown, as big fat tears welling in his eyes. But even at such a young age, Leo knew that some things were wrong, and this he most certainly had to learn was the wrong thing to do. So Rick just let him cry his little heart out into his t-shirt as everyone walked back to the van.

“Sorry I yelled at ya like that, Pokey.” Rick put his hand on Abner’s shoulder and gave it a good shake.

“It’s okay,” Abner sighed, glancing over at the wailing Leo awkwardly, “I should’ve been watching him instead of looking at my books.”

“We’ll just consider yer babysittin’ privileges revoked for the time being.”

“Oh, thank God.”

Once at the van, Leo’s cries had reduced to soft whimpers and sniffles. He looked up at Rick with big, watery eyes and a pushed-out lip as he was put in his car seat.

“Love you, big guy,” Rick reminded softly with a kiss to his son’s head.

When Delphia got home it was dark out. The weekend had gone about as she suspected. Too much wine, but a good hike here and there, a beautiful tour of the Biltmore grounds, and a great time with her best friend.

It was quiet when she entered the house. Unusual, but then again it was well past Leo’s bedtime. She hoped she could sneak into his nursery and give him a few kisses without waking him up. In the darkness it was hard to spot, but where there had once been a clean floor was definitely now covered in a fine layer of toys and discarded snacks. Oh, boy. She crept up the stairs quietly, leaving her bag in the foyer to be dealt with later. But when she got into the doorway of the nursery, also completely destroyed, she could clearly see that the crib was empty and Leo was nowhere to be found.

Brows furrowed, Delphia padded softly down the hall to the master bedroom. And it felt like her entire insides had melted at the sight she found there.

All the lights were off save for her bedside lamp, Rick having probably left it on for her. Leo’s sound machine was going gently in the corner, displaying a colorful array of stars onto the ceiling. And in the middle of the bed lay Rick and Leo. Delphia had to put her hands over her mouth to hold in the joyful noise that wanted to escape her. She didn't want to disturb this, not this quiet moment of complete bliss and peace.

The two of them were laying in nearly the exact same position. Arms thrown above their heads, one leg crooked at an angle, and faces tilted towards the mattress. They were both deep asleep, chests going up and down slowly in a soothing sort of rhythm. Rick had Goodnight Moon laying open on his chest and a nearly empty bottle laid between them. It made her heart ache and yearn for something she already had. It ached and yearned for every moment to be this precious, to be this good. She wanted to bask in it like finding a patch of warming sunlight in January.

Her beautiful, beautiful Flag boys.

Taglist (if you would like to be tagged in future installments, just let me know!): @bbygrgu @a-reader-and-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16 @runic-belova @weallhaveadestiny @oopsiedoopsie23 @nerdgrrlramblings @ocfairygodmother @reysorigins @hawsx3

#rick flag #colonel rick flag #rick flag x oc #rick flag imagine #rick flag x delphia holman #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #rick flag fic #suicide squad #the suicide squad #suicide squad imagine #suicide squad fanfiction #suicide squad fanfic #suicide squad fic #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman imagine #dceu oc #dceu imagine #dceu x oc #dceu fanfiction #dceu fanfic #dceu fic #ocappreciation

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

If I Go Universe - Is This Our First Date? (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: The morning after their first time together is blissful and sweet and full of breakfast food.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 1362

Warnings: fairly suggestive language, body kisses, rick flag being so soft it HURTS, flufffff, death mention, a smidge of language

Timeline: September 2016 (takes place the morning after If I Go, I'm Goin' Crazy pt. 1)

if i go masterlist

A/N: Is it Wednesday again? It's Writer Wednesday again! Thank you @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape !

Delphia woke up the next morning to gentle kisses on her abdomen. Warm static, like an old tv freshly turned off, coursed up her spine — making her toes curl. She hummed as she blindly reached for the source of such lovely morning kisses. Her fingers tangled into sandy blonde hair, eliciting a near purr against her flesh.

“Mornin’,” Rick muttered, voice thick and rasping as his lips brushed between her breasts.

“G’morning,” she whispered back, eyes finally slipping open just as he came face to face with her.

A grin, uncontrollable and filled with a happiness she hadn’t felt in a long time, tugged at the corners of her mouth. He looked even more handsome like this. Hair mussed, hazel eyes still blurred with sleep, lips swollen from too many kisses, not to mention shirtless. She put both hands into that messy hair and pushed it back away from his face — pulling a sleepy chuckle from him when she hitched her calf over his lower back to get him as close as humanly possible.

“Wanna go get breakfast?” he asked as he hid in the crook of her neck, “That sound good?”

“What — like a date?” Delphia asked through a giggle.

Rick smiled against her jaw, pressing lazy kisses to it as he replied, “Somethin’ like that.”

“Oh, my God, Colonel Flag.” She leaned in close to his ear. “Do you have a crush on me?”

Rick snorted out a laugh, forehead dropping to her collarbone as his shoulders shook. Her sleepy morning giggles sounded like bells in his ears. Her fingers tracing over the scratch marks she’d left on his spine the night before driving him nearly insane. The playful flick of her tongue against his ear made him laugh even more.

What had he done? What had he done to deserve this? This woman lying beneath him in his bed — laughing with him, holding him, bringing new life to all these parts of himself that he thought were dead. For so long — for so long — he thought this was never meant to be. That all he was ever going to get of Delphia Holman was her smiles in the hallways or her hushed gossip at admin parties. And he had resigned himself to that fate. Because just a little bit of her was better than nothing at all. But this was better than just a little bit. This was always going to be better than those smiles and all those moments where he thought things would go further. This was warm, and yearning, and good, and so much more than he ever thought it could be.

Oh, shit. Did he love her already?

“And what if I did, huh?” Rick asked against her chin, giving it a teasing bite.

“I’d say that’s rather embarrassing for you,” she said with a smile, “What are you — twelve?”

“Well, do you like me back?” His lips dropped back to her chest, voice low and edging on a growl. “Check yes or no.”

“Yes,” Delphia sighed, head thrown back against her pillow, “Most definitely.”

“Mm — who’s embarrassing now?”

“Me. Us. Together. It’s embarrassing how much I like you Rick Flag. Devastating even.”

“Fuck.”

He surged up into her like he was coming up for air. Lips connecting with her own as a starved man finding oasis. Her fingers wove themselves back into his hair. Her other leg wrapped around his waist. Lips caught in a feverish dance, Rick planted his knees and pulled them both up into a seated position. He needed more of her. More of her soft flesh in his hands as he guided her to sit in his lap.

Shit. He did love her already.

“Ten more minutes — then breakfast?”

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

The diner was quaint. Quiet in the midmorning with only a few elderly stragglers and soft 50s rock playing in the background. Rick got them two seats at the bar and ordered two coffees, remembering the way she liked hers, while they looked over the menu.

“Oh, they have corned beef hash,” Delphia spoke excitedly.

Rick narrowed his eyes at her as she closed her menu. Apparently decided. “You seriously like that stuff?”

“It’s good when it’s not the canned stuff.” She shrugged, flashing the waitress a smile when she set down their cups of coffee. “My dad cures his own meats so…We had it a lot when I was a kid.”

“You two ready to order?” the waitress asked, pen poised above her notepad.

“Yeah, I’ll have the three meat breakfast with a side of toast, Carol. Thank you.” Rick said.

“Wheat or rye?”

“Uh — Rye bread, please.”

The waitress turned to Delphia. “And for you, honey?”

“Corned beef hash, please. Rye toast for me too.”

“This separate checks — ?”

“Just the one, please, ma’am.”

Carol smiled knowingly, eyes flickering back and forth between the two of them. “Alrighty, then. And, Colonel, how many times do I gotta tell you not to call me ma’am?”

Rick chuckled as Carol walked away. Delphia smiled as she watched out of the corner of her eye. How relaxed and laid back Rick seemed here. He was never like this at Belle Reve. And probably for good reason. There he was Colonel Rick Flag, commanding officer of Task Force X who took no shit and gave orders like he was born to do it. But here, in this little diner, he was more or less just Rick. The hard exterior was peeled back a little and Delphia liked what she saw. Liked the kindness on full display that she knew he was so capable of. Liked the softness of him. Liked him in this big comfy sweatshirt and faded jeans. How did he look more handsome like this than he did naked in bed?

“You come here a lot?” she asked, holding her mug close to her face to feel the warmth of it.

“After most missions, yeah.” He nodded his head. “There’s a uh — group of vets that meet here every week. I like to sit and talk with ‘em.”

Delphia really had to resist the urge to jump out of her seat and start kissing him again. But with a sigh, she controlled herself and said, “That’s sweet.”

“So, uh, why’d’you like corned beef hash so much again?” Rick smirked at her over the lip of his mug.

“You still on that?” she laughed, “I grew up in Baltimore. Way, way, different than Louisiana. Corned beef hash reminds me of home. At least a little bit.”

“I get that. Grew up in DC.”

“Really? Your parents still up there?”

Rick shifted awkwardly in his seat. “Uh, no. Dad died in the Gulf War when I was just a kid and — and my mom lost her battle with cancer ten years ago.”

“Oh, Rick.” She placed her hand on his thigh and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry.”

“S’alright. Long time ago.”

“Yeah, but — it still hurts sometimes, doesn’t it?” When she attempted to pull away his much larger one came down to stop her. She smiled at the sight of his fingers curling around her own. “I never even met my biological mom but — but I still think about her sometimes. What it might have been like….To know her. For someone to know, maybe even just a little, what it was like to do what I can. To help me. Ugh, sorry. I know that’s not strictly comparable — “

“No, it’s okay.” He squeezed her hand sharply and comfortingly. “I get it.”

“Food’s here!” Carol announced with a smile as she set down their plates, “Enjoy.”

They ate their food over more conversation. Rick tried the corned beef hash and actually enjoyed it. Delphia marveled over the amount of meat he could pack away. They laughed so hard they cried. And when they were done, they left the diner with his arms wrapped around her waist and big hands in her hoodie pockets. Laughing as they tried to walk back to his apartment like that. Feeling more joyous and free together than they ever did apart.

Taglist (if you would like to be tagged in future installments just let me know!): @bbygrgu @a-reader-and-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16 @runic-belova @weallhaveadestiny @oopsiedoopsie23 @nerdgrrlramblings

#rick flag #colonel rick flag #rick flag fic #rick flag x delphia holman #rick flag x oc #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #rick flag imagine #suicide squad fanfic #suicide squad fanfiction #suicide squad imagine #suicide squad fic #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman imagine #dceu fic #dceu imagine #dceu fanfiction #dceu fanfic

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

Tattoo/Flower Shop AU: Roses Are Red (AU!Rick Flag x AU!OC)

Summary: Flower shop owner Delphia is thinking about getting a tattoo, good thing one of her cashiers also happens to work part-time at the tattoo parlor down the street. That really scary-looking one owned by the ex-Marine that put the fear of God in Delphia every time she saw him. Great.

Pairing: TattooArtist!Rick Flag x Florist!OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 5282

Warnings: fluffff, language, needle/blood mention, Rick Flag with lots of tattoos

if i go masterlist

A/N: I know jack shit about tattoos cause I've never gotten one, this is all only assumptions I've made from watching stupid tattooing reality TV. So sorry if something is inaccurate lol

Delphia cocked her head to one side as she stared at the floral arrangement before her. She had been working on this one piece for way too long. This shipment of bridal flowers should have been in Abner’s truck twenty minutes ago to get to the wedding venue on time. But Delphia wasn’t going to stop until everything was perfect. It was her job after all. This piece she was working on just so happened to be the centerpiece of the sweetheart table at the reception. With big, open carnations in pastel pink and pops of bright orange cosmos backdropped giant fern leaves. Not exactly her top choices for this color combo but the bride gets what the bride wants.

“You finished with those bridesmaid bouquets?” Delphia asked her apprentice.

“Yes.” Cleo held one up for her to see. “What do you think?”

“They look beautiful. Let’s get all this out to Abner.”

The lanky delivery driver was leaning against the white panel van with “The Little Flower Market '' splashed across the side in the alleyway behind the shop. He lept up from looking at his phone, however, when he heard the metal back door clang open.

“Took you long enough!” he chastised as he quickly moved to help.

He put the usual brick in front of the door to hold it open for Delphia and Cleo whose arms were laden with bouquets, arrangements, and corsages. It was only May, but Delphia could feel that dreaded and beloved season coming on. Wedding season. When her tiny shop in that tiny town made the most money, her creative juices got to flow the most, and when she felt like she never got to sit down. It was all worth it though to live out her dream of being a florist and owning her own shop.

“Sorry, sorry!” Delphia sighed as she helped load everything into the back of the van. “Took longer than expected. You can tell the wedding coordinator that I’ve thrown in an extra arrangement for being late.”

“S’not gonna make them any less angry at me but fine.”

Delphia watched with her hands on her hips as Abner got into the driver's seat and pulled out of the alleyway. She really hoped that none of the vases broke this time and Abner wouldn’t have to call frantically for her to come fix it. With one last sigh, she turned and went back inside the shop.

The backroom was a mess of trimmed stems and flowers with petals too crumpled to use in any of the arrangements. As she looked around at the mess, and Cleo sitting off in the corner on her phone, a sudden exhaustion pulled at the backs of her eyes. Cleaning could wait another fifteen minutes. Surely.

A groan pushed itself past her lips as she lowered herself onto one of the step stools used to reach the vases stored on the higher shelves. Yep, she was starting to feel that wedding season ache in her knees. She pulled out her phone and started scrolling, not even really caring what she was looking at, her mind lost somewhere else. Focused on the next task and the task after that and the task after that. Clean up the back room. Check the online orders for the day. Make those online orders and have them ready for pickup or delivery tomorrow. Clean up the mess from that. Take stock of what flowers are in the shop and place an order for what they need. Call all those wedding coordinators on her waitlist.

“You wanna get a tat?” a high, curious voice suddenly asked loudly in Delphia’s ear.

She jumped, nearly throwing her phone from her hands as she turned to see dipdyed pigtails and red painted lips smiling at her. Harley Quinn. Her newest hire. Just someone to watch the register and hopefully convince visitors to the shop to actually buy something instead of just browsing. The normal facade Harley had put up during her interview was misleading. But at least she kept things interesting when she was around.

Delphia put a hand to her beating heart. “Jesus, Harley! You’re supposed to be watching the front!”

“No one’s come in for like thirty minutes.” Harley waved a hand. “So, you wanna tattoo or what?”

“I, uh — “ Delphia looked down at her phone, she was in fact looking at tattoo inspirations. “ — I’ve been thinking about it, yeah.”

Harley looked over her shoulder at the images she had pulled up with pursed lips and bright eyes narrowed. It amazed Delphia how that woman sometimes looked like a cartoon character instead of a real human person.

“Hmm, not really my style. You should talk to Ricky!”

Right. Harley’s other job. Part-time tattoo artist at the parlor down the street, only a few doors down actually. The Illustrated Man. She had seen “Ricky” a few times, especially at the end of the day when they were closing up shop at the same time. And she most definitely did not want to talk to him. He was an ex-Marine, towering wall of muscle with tattoos covering nearly every inch of skin that hung out of the t-shirts he seemed to wear everyday. He scared the shit out of her and the closest she had ever gotten to him was maybe twelve feet.

“C-Can’t you just do it, Harley? I’ve heard you’re really good.”

“Not my style babe. You wanna tattoo of a cartoon burrito on your ass, you call me up though.” Harley seemed to notice her boss’s hesitation and insisted, “You really want that tattoo?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Delphia replied as she wrung her hands together, turning the flesh a bright red.

“Then you gotta talk to Ricky — the ones you’re lookin’ at match his style perfectly.”

The door to The Illustrated Man tattoo parlor looked heavy, wooden and painted a dark, faded shade of green. There was a large pane of glass to the right of the door that allowed Delphia a peek inside the parlor. On the glass, the name of the place and their logo, a man with arms outstretched covered head to toe in little black markings, was painted on with painstaking precision. The neon sign up in the corner said they were open, the hours pasted to the door confirming it was so.

But still, Delphia stood there clutching the strap of the purse she had thrown over her shoulder tightly. Ringing it in her palms to the point it hurt. She wasn’t nervous about getting the tattoo. She had been thinking about this for a long time, but the conversation she had with Harley just pushed her over the edge to finally do it. And she had plenty of time. It was Monday, The Little Flower Market was closed to give her at least the semblance of a weekend. No — she was most definitely still just terrified to actually talk to the owner of the tattoo parlor.

Stealing the last bits of her courage, Delphia pushed open the heavy wooden door and walked inside. The bell above the threshold dinged loudly when she entered. It wasn’t as scary on the inside as she thought it was going to be. It was nearly inviting. There was rock music playing softly over the speakers. The floor was tiled black and white, the walls covered in artwork. From pictures of tattoos on various parts of people's bodies, to simple drawings, to pictures of what appeared to be fairly famous people after getting their tattoos done in the shop. She moved in closer to the wall, inspecting with narrowed eyes a picture of what appeared to be “Ricky” and Chris Evans. He had been in town? How the hell had she missed that?

She nearly jumped when a set of heavy footsteps echoed from further in the parlor.

“Can I help you?”

Jesus, even his voice was terrifying. All deep and gruff with a slight southern drawl. Delphia audibly gulped as she watched him walk through the parlor to the lobby. He was somehow even taller and wider up close, shoulders broad and straining underneath the black t-shirt he had on. Her eyes couldn’t decide what to focus on. His arms were covered in black ink, swirling and crashing together in a weird kind of harmony. Even the backs of his hands were tattooed with massive roses, his fingers covered by faded roman numerals. As he came to a halt behind the front desk, she could finally see what that tattoo on his neck was: three swallows, hemmed by a golden chain tucked under his shirt.

It was only when he was behind the counter, palms flat and an eyebrow raised, that she finally realized that she was supposed to say something to him.

“I — uh — I — “

“Dee, baby! I thought I heard ya!” Harley came bounding out of the back with a grin, skidding to a halt at the front desk with an outstretched hand. “Ricky this is my other boss Delphia — that lady who owns the flower shop down the street. Told her to come to you for her tat.”

Somehow that brow lifted even higher as he looked from Harley back to her.

“Delphia.” The way her name rolled off his tongue sounded like honeyed bourbon. “Where’s that from — the name?”

“It’s er — it’s Greek. After the myth of the Oracle of Delphi.”

“S’pretty,” he mumbled, making a furiously hot blush spread across her cheeks, before he stuck out his hand towards her, “Name’s Rick.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Her nose scrunched at how little her voice sounded. Her fingers barely wrapped around his hand, it was so big. But it was warm and calloused and had her blushing all over again. God, why was she acting like this? She was never like this. She was never shy or flustered. But he stared at her with eyes she couldn’t tell the color of and a slight, humorous quirk to his lips and her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. When she let go of him, his eyes flicked up and down her body, sizing her up. Did she have to choose to wear that green pair of overalls like some sort of oversized toddler today? He definitely wasn’t going to think that was cool. Wait — why did she care if this guy thought she was cool or not?

“So — “ Rick bent down behind the front desk and pulled out a thick binder, dropping it down on the countertop with a bang. “ — What’r’ya lookin’ for? Birds? A quote? An anchor?”

“Uh, no. No. I kinda had…I was thinking about…I want something different…”

“Ugh! Come on, Dee, spit it out already!” Harley groaned, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “”You’re killing me with the anticipation here!”

“Yeah, you’re killing us with the anticipation,” Rick deadpanned.

Delphia snorted out a laugh, her hand instantly clapping over her mouth in embarrassment. Her eyes met Rick’s and he winked. He winked at her and she felt red hot all over. She coughed awkwardly into her hand and then pointed down at her exposed inner forearm.

“I want a rose held up by a skeletal hand. Offering it like they’re in love,” she said.

The gears were turning in Rick’s head. She could practically see it behind those dark hazel eyes. Then he smacked the countertop and turned towards the back of the parlor.

“Come with me — let me draw somethin’ up for ya.”

He gestured for Delphia to follow and then he was sauntering away, long strides carrying him easily across the tiled floor, steel toed boots thumping with each step. She walked around the front desk hesitantly, purse strap wrung between her fingers once more. But then Harley was smiling at her, squealing in excitement as she took hold of Delphia’s shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze. Right. There was nothing to worry about. It was just a tattoo that was going on her body forever — getting drawn by someone she may no longer be scared of but was definitely starting to be confused by.

Harley guided her to what she could only assume was the tattoo parlor’s backroom. There were a few wornout couches stuffed inside, a fridge, and a tall table shoved against one wall scattered with barstools. Rick was sitting at this table, flipping open a tablet and twirling the stylist between his long fingers.

“Ugh, Dee, your tattoo’s gonna be amazing! I can feel it in my tootie!” Harley said as she twirled around the couch and eventually flopped into a seat.

There was a sputtering noise from the opposite end of the couch. Delphia looked over to see a black man with a closely shaved head and beard coughing into his hand, a bottle of cream soda in the other.

“You can feel it — “ He coughed again. “ — In your what?”

“In my tootie!” Harley repeated, “It’s like my soul but…Better.”

“You’re full’a bullshit, Quinn. Sounds like your ass to me.”

“I am not full of bullshit! The tootie, DuBois, is a very real thing and I can — “

“Guys, will you behave?” Rick spoke up, “Gotta new client here and I’d rather you not scare her off.”

DuBois looked over the back of the couch at Delphia. He stared at her for a moment and then a knowing look passed over his face. His finger came up and pointed at her.

“Hey, you’re the flower lady.” DuBois’ expression dropped to dead serious. “Your peonies did shit to save my marriage.”

Delphia’s face scrunched in confusion. “You picked peonies? Seriously?”

On the edge of her hearing, she heard Rick’s chuckle before he spoke, “Don’t you have a client coming in, DuBois?”

He looked down at his watch. “Not for another — “

The bell above the door rang loudly even from all the way back there.

“Fuck me,” DuBois groaned as he got up from the couch, setting down his drink on his way out the door.

Delphia could hear him talking jovially with his client out in the lobby as she continued to stand just inside the doorway. Really unsure of where she was supposed to be. Rick seemed to notice this, looking up from the drawing on the tablet and waving her to come over.

“Here — take a seat. M’almost done.”

Taking a deep breath, she settled into the stool next to him. For a man with such big, rough hands, his fingers held the stylist delicately as he moved it across the screen. His strokes were all deliberate and confident, not an ounce of second guessing in any of them. Of their own accord, Delphia’s eyes traveled up those inked arms until she finally landed on his face. She had been so distracted by those damn tattoos, she hadn’t even noticed how handsome he really was. Hadn’t noticed that sharp line of his jaw, those distinguished cheekbones, the slight facial hair on his upper lip and chin, his slicked back hair that he pushed back from time to time as he kept his eyes locked on his work. Jesus, those eyes. What color even was that? Brown? Green? Honey? She had no idea and yet she was obsessed with it. Seeing the details of him, he was far less scary now. He looked kind. Maybe a little rough around the edges but definitely not as terrifying as all those nights out on the street.

“Seen you before, you know,” Rick mumbled as he continued to draw, eyes flicking over at her, “Closin’ up your shop.”

“Yeah, I, uh — I’ve seen you, too. Gonna be honest, you’re kinda terrifying on a dark and empty street.” She smiled when he laughed. She made him laugh. “Doesn’t help that you’d just stand there while I walked to my car.”

It was barely noticeable, but she could see his cheeks pink as he hunkered down closer to the tablet. “I was — uh — I was makin’ sure you got to your car okay. Sorry…If it was creepy.”

“Oh.”

Delphia felt too stunned to say anything else. This complete and total stranger, a man she maybe locked eyes with once and had most definitely scurried away from, after a long day at work, hung back to make sure that she got to her car safely. She could practically feel her heart malt, her insides turning to goo at such a kind and silent gesture. She wanted to thank him, but it was too late. He finished with the sketch and was turning the tablet for her to see. Another time perhaps.

“Whaddaya think?” he asked, brow furrowed curiously as he pushed the tablet closer to her.

“It’s perfect,” she breathed, “It’s exactly how I saw it in my head. I love it.”

And it really was. It was everything she was hoping for and more. He even got the positioning of the skeletal hand just right. Rick smiled as he took the tablet back, prepping his drawing to be sent off to the stencil printer.

“Awesome. Do you want any colors in this?”

Delphia cocked her head to one side as she looked at the drawing again. “No. I don’t think so. Just black is fine.”

“Thought roses were supposed to be red,” Rick commented as he got up from his stool, making his way over to the printer in the corner.

“Oh, roses can be whatever color you want,” she replied, “I’ve got some green ones down in the shop if you wan’em.”

“Green? Seriously?”

She shrugged, twisting in her stool so she could watch him stand next to the printer with his hands on his hips, somehow making him look even more broad than before. “Yeah. Get a little food coloring in water, put a white rose in and poof — a few hours later you’ve got a green rose.”

Rick just shook his head with a smile. She decided, with a grin of her own, that she liked when he did that. Made all those hard edges disappear and that kindness in his eyes blossom. It made this warmth radiate in her chest. Like playing in the backyard of her childhood in autumn, knowing that there was hot apple cider waiting for her inside. It made her long to see him smile more, to make him laugh. It made her yearn for his stories, the history behind each of those tattoos and maybe even more. It made —

Oh. Oh, dear.

“Alright — we’ve got the stencil.” He held up the piece of paper hashed with transferable purple ink before he cut off the excess. “Let’s head over to my chair.”

Rick led the way back out into the parlor, Delphia trailing behind with a now permanent blush adorning her cheeks. DuBois was working on a guy closer to the front door, a giant tribal back piece that looked absolutely painful to Delphia. The heat faded from her face when she noticed all the blood that DuBois wiped from the man’s skin after a good pass of his needle. And Harley, who Delphia hadn’t even noticed leaving the backroom, was working on a girl’s foot and she was practically screaming in pain. Nerves bunched up in her gut like a cat caught in the yarn basket.

Stopping at a black leather chair much like a dentist would have, Rick turned back to look at her with a smile. But that grin was quickly wiped from his face when he seemed to notice Delphia’s sudden apprehension.

“Hey, you good?” he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

The weight of his palm was heavy and calming. But that girl was still moaning in pain and Delphia really, really didn’t want these people to see her pass out or hear her own noises of discomfort.

“I — is there….I don’t — can we — ?”

Every variation on the question she tried seemed to get lost somewhere between her brain and her mouth. But Rick got it.

“We’ll go to a private room, okay? Prolly be more comfortable in there.”

Delphia nodded frantically. He led her to a door off to the side that had “Tattoo In Progress” painted into the frosted glass. Rick opened the door and allowed her to step inside first. In this little room, with just the chair and a cart with the tattoo gun, the noises in the main parlor instantly faded. Delphia took a calming breath, but her heart was still pounding as she set down her bag and lowered herself into the leather seat.

“You a virgin?” Rick asked as he sat down on the rolling chair in front of her.

She blinked at him in surprise. “Am I a what?”

“A virgin,” he repeated on a chuckle as he put on a pair of black lattex gloves, “Never been inked.”

“Oh, Jesus — no, I’ve never had a tattoo before.”

Rick pulled out some lotion and a razor. He was gentle as he propped up her left arm the way he wanted and put the lotion onto the skin of her inner arm. He asked her to rub it in and after he started with the razor.

“Gotta tolerance for pain?” he asked as he dropped the razor into a metal dish.

Delphia considered it for a moment, eyes trained on the cleaning foam he squirted on her flesh and rubbed in gently. Concentrated on how his touch made her entire body feel like it was on fire. She was having a really hard time remembering why she thought he was scary in the first place and at the same time cursing herself for not meeting him sooner.

“I mean — I’ve snipped off the tips of my fingers with garden shears plenty of times. Gotten a lotta stitches.” She swallowed thickly as he lined the stencil up just how he wanted it and pressed the design into her skin. “Most people don’t notice, but the middle finger on my left hand is down to the middle knuckle. Sorry — I….don’t know why I just told you that.”

Rick peeled back the stencil slowly and with a small smile. “S’Alright, I don’t mind. I did notice and I was gonna ask eventually, so…”

“The story’s not that great I promise. Oh, God.”

He had pulled out the tattoo gun, plugged in and ready to be dipped in ink. Ready to start working that ink into her skin, stabbing her more than a million times and injecting it just beneath the surface of her flesh. She was always fine with needles, she didn’t know why her heart was pounding in her chest or why her leg had started to bounce. Once he started she was sure it was going to be fine. But God did that gun look terrifying and what if the pain was more than she could bear?

And Rick, somehow so attentive to her emotions and somehow knowing exactly what she needed, put a hand to that thigh that bounced nervously. It instantly stilled as he gave the forgiving flesh a soft squeeze. His hand nearly eclipsed the entire expanse of her thigh, fingers digging into the corduroy of her overalls in such a reassuring and comforting way. He didn’t have to do this. He could so easily lose his patience and tell her that if she didn’t want it she could get out. Stop wasting his time. But he cared. He cared enough to look up at her with eyebrows raised and that kindness in those unfathomable eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay.” His voice was still that southern rasp, but it was gentle, soft. “Plenty of time to back out if you really don’t wanna do this.”

“I do — I want it. Sorry. I don’t know why I feel so freaking nervous. Were-Were you nervous?”

Without even thinking her fingers trailed over that hand on her thigh. Brushed over the faded roman numerals, traced the petals of the elaborate rose on the back of his hand, followed the trail of the green snake coiled around his forearm. She watched the muscle there flex beneath her touch — felt as his fingers dug into her just a bit tighter. She looked back into his face to find his eyes boring into her, searching for something she wasn’t entirely sure of. But she hoped he would find it. Uncover it with greedy hands and keep it close to his chest forever.

“My first tat?” he finally said, with her hand settled around his thick wrist, “Yeah. I was nervous.”

Delphia grinned. “You’re lying.”

“Yeah, I am — but I’m tryin’ to make you feel better. So just believe it for now.”

“I don’t think you get nervous about anything,” she told him honestly, quietly.

“Well, trust me, I do.” He gave her leg one last squeeze before letting go and picking up a paper towel. Dipping the tattoo gun in black ink he poised it over her skin. “I’m gonna start now, okay?”

“Okay.”

The following day, Delphia was back to making floral arrangements in the backroom of her shop. The day before feeling like some sort of weird dream she had yet to wake up from. But there was evidence clearly written on her arm. Covered by a clear second skin Rick told her not to take off for at least a month in order for it to heal the best. The tattoo turned out beautifully. It barely even hurt once he started. The black ink of that rose and skeletal hand in such stark contrast to her pale skin. Rick was so pleased with his work he actually took a picture of it, telling her he was going to add it to his book later. It really was like a dream. She had stumbled out of the parlor yesterday feeling like she had just woken up, a goofy sort of smile stretching her lips with the feeling of his hands on her still prickling all over.

But it was also a dream she had barely had the time to think about. After her day off, online orders had piled up. So she had been in the backroom nearly the entire day trying to fill as many orders as she could, Cleo trying to keep pace beside her. Thankfully, it was finally the end of the day. Everyone else had gone home for the night. There were only ten more minutes till close and Delphia was working on the last arrangement. And what a sweet one to end on.

The notes on the order said that it was for their fortieth wedding anniversary and he wanted it to look as much like her original bridal bouquet as possible. Seeing the request had nearly made Delphia tear up. It was turning out beautifully. Lavender hydrangeas, mauve dahlias, orange ranunculus, and midnight eucalyptas made for a beautiful combination. She snipped off the last bit of excess leaves just before the bell above the door rang loudly through the tiny shop.

Delphia groaned as she looked down at her watch. Seriously? Someone was coming in right now? When all she wanted to do was turn out the lights and go home to take a bath?

She put on her best smile though as she turned to go out to the main room. “We close in five minutes just so you…Know.”

Rick looked so odd standing in her brightly colored shop. All those pops of color from the flowers surrounding him in stark contrast to the all black outfit he was sporting. Oh, so it wasn’t a dream. She met that scary man who owned the tattoo parlor a few doors down and found that he wasn’t so scary at all. He was kind and caring and so roguishly handsome it was nearly obscene. He told her stories while he gave her her first tattoo. He made her laugh so hard she cried. And now he was standing in her flower shop looking so uncertain, head tilted down with the smallest smile, and her heart was fluttering with the anticipation for something. She just wasn’t entirely sure what that something was yet.

“Can I help you?” Delphia asked as she moved to stand behind the counter, hands smoothing over her bright blue apron.

“Yeah, uh — takin’ this girl out on a date tonight.” He stepped further into the shop. “Got any suggestions?”

The way he’s looking at her, all soft and knowing, like there was a secret joke between them, it couldn’t be anyone else. It had to be her. Her smiling teeth came down hard on her bottom lip as her eyes tipped towards the counter. Unable to look at him for too long without feeling like dancing in some sort of girlish joy.

“Depends.” She walked around the counter, cheeks flushed as she gestured towards the wall of metal bins filled with freshly cut flowers. “What does she like?”

“Roses.” His eyes flicked down to her arm, to that tattoo he had slaved over for six hours. “As far as I can tell.”

“Hmm, I’ve got plenty of green ones?” Delphia suggested with a grin as she walked over to the wall covered in roses.

“God, no,” he laughed, “Roses are supposed to be red.”

“Fine, fine. How many you want?”

“Just the one, thanks.”

Delphia pulled a single red rose from the correct bin, out of habit bringing it to her nose to make sure it had enough of that signature scent. It wasn’t until she turned around to head back to the cash register that she noticed that Rick had been staring at her. A boyish grin on his face and hands on his hips. Her blush was furious as she moved back behind the counter.

“So, where you takin’ this girl?” she asked as she rung up the flower.

“Dinner,” he answered as he pulled out his wallet, “That little Italian place off fourth.”

“Good choice. My favorite place in town actually.”

Those calloused fingers brushed over her own as he handed over the exact change. It made her breath hitch and butterflies hatch in her stomach.

Rick’s eyebrows lifted as he smiled. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She handed over the rose. “You nervous?”

He took it from her gently, careful not to prick himself on the thornes. Twirling it between his forefinger and thumb, he grinned at her sheepishly. From across the counter, she could see a pink hue crawling up his neck and overpowering his ears. It was adorable.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous in my life,” he admitted finally.

“I believe you this time.” Without taking the time to second guess herself, Delphia inched her hand over the counter and ghosted her fingers over those roman numerals, danced over the rose on the back of his hand. “So, uh — You really gonna ask me or what?”

He stared down at her hand as it wrapped around his wrist. So small and delicate compared to his rough, broad hands. Though her fingers were probably covered in more scars than his were. He watched for a moment, and so did she. That contrast. His skin darkened by faded ink and her fingers adorned with candy colored rings. It wasn’t until that moment that she realized how different he was from her. He was all black and leather and tattoos. She was bright colors and fleece — but maybe she was tattoos too. Maybe it could work. Maybe. Hopefully.

“Will you go on a date with me, Delphia?”

“Yeah. I think I will.”

Taglist (if you would like to be tagged in future installments, just let me know!): @bbygrgu @a-reader-and-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16 @runic-belova @weallhaveadestiny @oopsiedoopsie23 @nerdgrrlramblings @ocfairygodmother @reysorigins

#rick flag #colonel rick flag #rick flag imagine #rick flag x oc #rick flag x delphia holman #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #rick flag fic #suicide squad #suicide squad imagine #suicide squad fanfiction #suicide squad fanfic #suicide squad fic #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman imagine #dceu oc #dceu imagine #dceu fanfiction #dceu fanfic #dceu fic #flower shop and tattoo parlor au #ocappreciation

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

If I Go Universe - Tapper's Arcade Bar (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: Harley found an arcade bar and frankly, how is the Squad Fam not supposed to check it out?

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC / Squad Family & OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 1559

Warnings: language, found family trope, suggestive language

Timeline: November 2021

if i go masterlist

A/N: Probably gonna take a break from Writer Wednesday after this. But what a fun prompt to end on! Thank you @autumnleaves1991-blog for putting out the prompts each week and to @clydesducktape for putting together the masterlist!

It takes them about an hour to get there. DuBois complained for most of it — telling everyone who would listen that it was stupid to drive this long for a fucking bar as he called it.

“This isn’t just some bar, Robby!” Harley argued loudly, “This is an arcade bar! We get to play games, dance, and drink — and that’s fuckin’ cool as shit!”

Rick and Delphia were just happy to be sitting in the front of the van. That way they didn’t really have to deal with the arguing, the excitedly giggling, and the constant questioning if they were there yet or not. All Rick had to do was drive, and all Delphia had to do was hold the phone that was calling out directions every once and a while. And hold each other’s hands of course. There was always that.

The arcade bar was in Asheville, in the bustling heart of downtown. Rick easily found a parking spot by the courthouse in town square, about a three minute walk from the bar front where a line was already forming to go in.

“Alright,” Rick said as he threw the van in park and cut the engine, “Can I hear the rules one more time?”

“Don’t steal anything!” Cleo called out cheerfully.

“Do not maim or seriously injure!” Harley sang.

“No one is nom-nom,” Nanaue replied seriously with a nod of his giant head.

“No weapons except one bloody fucking knife,” DuBois grumbled.

Then lastly Abner mumbled from his seat in the back, “And have fun?”

“Perfect!” Rick grinned as he opened his door. “Let’s roll out!”

As Delphia jumped down from the van, she could already spot Harley running ahead to get in line. Her loud cackle echoing off the brick storefronts as she dragged Cleo behind her. Delphia chuckled with a shake of her head, smiling when Rick came around from the other side of the van and took up her hand in his.

It was their first time going out with all of them together. Rick had of course raised his concerns about putting them all in an environment like that. But Delphia had calmed them all with a gentle hand and smile. A practiced one even. Because this certainly wasn’t the first time Rick had worried over the details of an event, and it most certainly wasn’t going to be the last. Everything was going to work out fine, she had said, they’ve all been working hard — they deserve a night out.

And that was true. The squad was proving themselves to be excellent helpers in fixing up the new house and getting everything put into place. They all diligently went shopping for all their own furniture for their rooms. Helped Delphia with fixing up the gardens for the colder months. Assisted in repainting the walls and cleaning up the backyard. Delphia thought they really did deserve it.

Even if the night might end in total and complete disaster.

The line to get inside was slowly being let in by the time the rest of the group made it, Harley frantically looking over her shoulder and gesturing wildly for them to hurry up. Above the door was a bright neon sign that read Tapper’s Arcade Bar. Delphia had to think that the place was aptly named. She and Rick slipped past the bouncer with ease — mostly because he was too busy staring at Nanaue trailing behind them.

The inside of Tapper’s was dark, but definitely not gloomy. There were neon lights everywhere. The bright screens of classic arcade games covered nearly every inch of wall space and created several rows. There was barely enough room for the bar shoved into the west wall where most of the people were already congregating. It was hard to see anyone in there and hard to hear. The music and noises from the arcade games made it difficult to listen to anyone you weren’t standing directly next to.

Rick put a hand to her back and spoke into the shell of her ear so she could hear him properly, “Whaddaya want, baby?”

“I’ll take a whiskey sour, please!”

“You got it.” He gave her ass cheek a quick pinch.

“I’ll be over there!” Delphia pointed towards the farthest corner of the arcade area, where the least amount of people were.

Rick flashed a thumbs up before heading over to the crowded bar. And after stopping at the machine to exchange money for sweet golden tokens, Delphia wandered her way over to the empty corner of the arcade. A nostalgic sort of smile crowded her face when she spotted Mortal Kombat sitting there. God, how many times had she played that hoping the entire time her parents wouldn’t catch her? With a chuckle, she sat down at the cushioned stool and put in the proper amount of tokens. Now she was only hoping that she still remembered how to play.

“Mortal Kombat?” DuBois questioned as he walked up behind her holding a beer, “Took you as more of a Dig Dug kinda gal.”

“Oh — so you think I look like a girl who knows about Dig Dug?” Delphia looked over her shoulder at him with narrowed eyes and a smirk.

DuBois snorted a laugh. “Fair enough.”

“No, but, uh — me and my best friend growing up used to go to the arcade all the time. It was the nineties you know. We played this game all the time cause our parents told us not to.” Delphia chose her character with a smile. “I was always Sub Zero — Eleanor always picked Snake Eyes. She was better than me though.”

“Hmm.” DuBois took a swig of his beer. “Where’s Flag?”

“At the bar getting us drinks,” Delphia replied, eyes glued to the screen as she began her fight with the AI, “You know where everyone else is?”

“Fuck if I do,” he scoffed, then he squinted his eyes against the neon darkness of the bar, “Eh — Pokey’s with Flag. The shark’s easy to spot. Harley and Ratatoulli are playing some game across the room.”

Delphia smiled out of the corner of her eye at him. “Thank you.”

He just rolled his eyes in response.

They stayed for a few hours. Delphia eventually switching from whiskey sours to blackberry mojitos that Abner liked way more than she did. Rick and Delphia played several games head to head — she won most of them and most of the time he was a good sport about it. She would then play against DuBois, even though he would grumble the whole time, and beat him. But there was no chance she could beat Abner. He was surprisingly good and was actually really enjoying himself despite his reserved nature.

She felt bad that Rick wasn’t drinking though, really letting loose. But she was also grateful to him for volunteering to be the designated driver. Moving and redecorating and adapting to now living in a house full of ex-cons was taking some getting used to. At the very least, Rick was used to the squad and their quirks. But Delphia — this was all so new for her. And she honestly needed this night out more than anyone.

“Whatchya playin’ baby?” Rick muttered into her ear as he came up behind her, arms snaking around her waist.

“Pac Man,” she said with a smile, trying to concentrate on the game.

But it was growing increasingly difficult — especially when Rick began kissing up and down the column of her throat. Like he was trying to memorize the line of the tendon there beneath her skin. This was an entirely new game. One that she was more than willing to play. As she continued to toggle Pac Man around his maze, she pushed her hips back into Rick.

“Baby,” he grunted.

She planted her feet and rolled her hips again. “You started it, big guy.”

But then, over the din of bar chatter and the loud noises of the arcade cabinets, there was a distinct angry shout: “Hey! The hell do you think you’re doing!”

The two of them looked over to see Harley, Cleo, and Nanaue running over to them with overexagerated, worried expressions on their face. And then one of the bartenders following hot on their heels.

“Oh no,” Delphia muttered.

“We gotta go!” Harley whisper yelled to them, grabbing Rick and Delphia by the hand and dragging them away from the game they had been playing.

“What’d you do?” Rick asked.

“The machine wasn’t working — so I hit it a little.” Harley shrugged as the group of seven hurried towards the door.

The bartender was now shouting behind them for them to stop.

“Harley,” Rick groaned as they passed through the exit at a run, “There was a rule about breakin’ shit!”

“No there wasn’t,” she said indignantly.

“Was too!” Rick looked over to Delphia to back him up.

“Actually — I don’t think you made a rule about breaking anything.”

“Seriously?” he questioned as they all ran up to the van, him unlocking it as quickly as he could, “New rule added to the fuckin’ list then!”

“Sorry, everybody!” Harley yelled as the van took off, “Sorry for ruinin’ the night.”

“Nah.” Delphia took up Rick’s hand and gave it a kiss. “It was perfect.”

Taglist (if you would like to be tagged in future installments, just let me know!): @bbygrgu @a-reader-and-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16 @runic-belova @weallhaveadestiny @oopsiedoopsie23 @nerdgrrlramblings @ocfairygodmother

#rick flag #colonel rick flag #rick flag x oc #rick flag x delphia holman #rick flag imagine #rick flag fic #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #suicide squad imagine #suicide squad fic #suicide squad fanfic #suicide squad fanfiction #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman imagine #dceu imagine #dceu fic #dc oc #ocappreciation #if i go universe #writer wednesday #dceu oc #dceu fanfiction #dceu fanfic

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

@witchygagirl requested: Hmm how about a miscommunication between Rick and Dee. Feelings are developing but Rick has the dilemma who's that guy dee was talking to? Did he send her flowers? So he backs off so Dee thinks she did something wrong

If I Go Universe - Miscommunication (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: Rick really likes Delphia - like really really likes her. But he has a history of moving relationships too far too quickly, and he doesn't want to mess things up with her. So he takes things slow. But maybe it is too slow for her liking.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 2903

Warnings: language, a pinch of angst, miscommunication to the max obvs, suggestive language, rick flag being a huge softy

Timeline: October 2016

if i go masterlist

The pastry sat in his front seat. Rick couldn’t stop looking over at it as he drove to work. He really hoped he ordered the right one — the pastry Delphia had mentioned she liked from the bakery near her apartment. He had driven nearly twenty minutes out of the way and spent nearly that same amount of time staring worriedly at the pastry case trying to decide. He got a raspberry filled one hoping that it was right.

The past few weeks with Delphia had been amazing. Rick had never laughed so much in his entire life or felt so light. She somehow made everything better — brighter. He remembered thinking, when he talked to her the first few times, that he thought she was disillusioned with the world and its cruelty. But now he knew that she saw all that cruelty, took it all in stride and decided to turn it into kindness. Which was a strength in and of itself that he had never been able to master.

And she somehow saw the good in him. Brought it to the surface and left all the terrible things behind with each smile she shone his way and every touch she passed upon his skin. Sometimes it felt like drawing poison from a wound. Sometimes he felt undeserving and ashamed — convinced he would only corrupt her and take away her good. But that was impossible. Delphia Holman was too good for this world and she was too good for Rick Flag.

So maybe that was why he was taking things so slow with her. That, and a combination of Rick’s history of taking relationships too fast too quickly. Always blurting out I love yous at inappropriate times or wanting to move in after only a month of dating. He could count on two hands how many times he had scared someone off just because he was a big guy with big feelings. And he really didn’t want to mess things up with Delphia. He had a feeling, deep in his gut, that she was it. And if he scared her off now he wasn’t sure if he would be able to forgive himself. So after that first night, that wonderful first night, Rick decided to backtrack and slow things down for the time being.

They texted all the time, talked to each other in the halls when they saw each other. She brought him coffee a few mornings, just how he liked it. Whenever she brought over paperwork from Waller, she lingered at his desk for longer than was really necessary, not that he complained. But the other commanding officers were definitely starting to take notice and make fun of him for it.

Rick sighed as he parked his Jeep and cut the engine. Sparing one last glance at the pastry in the paper bag before he picked it up and began his walk inside. It was an offering of sorts. A way to ease her into him asking her out again. He had wanted to do it when they got back to his apartment from that diner. But he had restrained himself for long enough and now was a good time. There were no missions for the foreseeable future, unless some catastrophe happened, and from the hints that Delphia had been dropping, her work with Waller had been lessening as of late. Meaning they both had plenty of time.

Confidence filled him as he walked down the hall towards her office, which was honestly his first mistake. Because as soon as he heard that familiar laughter coming through her open door, harmonized by the deeper chuckle of a man, he felt it all seep out of him. He was overgrown with the weeds of fear and jealousy in an instant as he approached the doorway.

But he didn’t even make it past the threshold, let alone inside her office. Because there Delphia sat, laughing and chatting with Gordon of all people who sat perched on the edge of her desk. She was giggling so hard her head was thrown back, eyes screwed shut. Gordon was sitting there chuckling too, arms crossed as he leaned in close to her. Her hand reached out to touch Gordon’s thigh — to stabilize herself — and Rick felt a heat flare up in his chest.

Without even taking a second to think, to rationalize, Rick performed an about face and marched to his office. Pastry bag gripped so tight in his hand he could feel the paper ripping.

He opened his office door with a hard yank, the metal knob nearly banging against the wall as he walked over to his desk. Throwing down the pastry on the top of his desk, Rick settled into his office chair with a huff. Hands pulling over his face as he practically kicked himself.

He shouldn’t have taken things so slow with her. She had moved on, forgotten him. Gordon was funny and handsome to some degree, or at least she seemed to think so with the way she was giggling and touching him. God, he felt so stupid. Putting his heart out on his sleeve and letting her admire it — letting her take it from him without even a care. Shit. Fuck.

“Didn’t take you for a pastry kinda guy, Flag,” another commanding officer commented with a grin.

Rick shot him a glare. “Shut up, Vaughn.”

Delphia texted him that night, asking how his day went and saying that she wished she could’ve seen him today. As Rick ate his dinner angrily, he stared at that text.

He had never been one to make assumptions before. He was a man of facts and hard evidence. But when it came to stuff of the heart — he was a fool. His mind couldn’t get away from her and Gordon together. How happy she looked and how flirtatious. It ate up at his insides and forced him to push his half-finished dinner away. She looked way happier with Gordon than she ever did with him. He had been such an idiot to think that she was the one — that she was it for him. Or maybe he had just waited too long and this was all his fault. It certainly felt like his fault that he had let her get away from him. This amazing, wonderful, kind, generous woman. She would make Gordon happy. And he would just have to watch as Gordon got to live the life he wanted.

So he flipped his phone screen down and ignored her text message completely.

And the message after that, and the message after that, and the message after that.

Part of him felt guilty for leaving her hanging like that — like he was still in high school. But the other part of him was too angry with himself and too jealous to say anything that would be remotely courteous. Everything he felt was too big for words and way too big to see Delphia in person.

So he also avoided her at work. Turned down different hallways when he spotted her coming when before the simple sight of her made him smile from ear to ear. Sent Vaughn to deliver paperwork to her desk when before he would’ve hand delivered everyones if he could. It was eating him up inside but it was also saving him from further heartbreak. He didn’t want to stop her from enjoying her life, no matter how much it hurt.

On and on for a week it went, until one day Rick was the only commanding officer left in the office and there was a giant stack of paperwork that needed to be delivered to Waller. To Delphia.

He stared at the files for a long time. Hoping by maybe some miracle they would teleport themselves down the hall. But sadly, after several minutes of glowering, the stack of papers did not move. Rick groaned as he picked up the files and marched out of his office. He really hoped that she was out, maybe even in a meeting with Waller and he wouldn’t have to see her.

Delphia’s office door was open, as it always was. But Rick still felt the need to peek around the doorframe first before stepping inside. The chair behind her desk was empty and he nearly sighed in relief. Then there was a sharp pain in his chest — like he was being jabbed with a hot poker.

There was a vase full of flowers on her desk. Beautiful carnations and lilies. Rick didn’t have to find a note to know exactly who they were from. Every muscle in his body felt pulled taut as he walked across the room and laid the files down on her desk.

God, he was such an idiot for thinking that that night meant anything. For thinking the two of them could actually be together.

He stared down at the flowers with a tight lip, frozen to the spot by his self-directed anger and jealousy. Then he heard Waller’s office door creak open and he looked over to see none other than Delphia standing there.

She looked beautiful. A billowing white button up blouse paired with tan pants and nude heels — fire red hair straightened and pushed behind her ears. It wasn’t until now that he realized how much he missed her over the past week. And just how embarrassed he was to be caught standing at her desk like an idiot. He briefly caught her wide blue eyes with his and then he practically bolted from the room. Shame and guit chasing after him like the very hands of death.

As he walked down the hallway back to his office, he heard heels clicking against the tile and he nearly picked up the pace — lengthened his strides. He knew she wouldn’t be able to keep up with him but he didn’t want her to know he was running away from her either. Rick glanced over his shoulder, just to check it was actually her, and he was right. Delphia was following a few feet behind him, her brow pinched in what could only be frustration and lips pulled between her teeth.

Fuck.

“Colonel Flag?” she called out to him, “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Rick slowly came to a halt. He really didn’t want to talk to her — didn’t want to admit to everything he had been feeling. Or worse, talk like they were just coworkers again, like he hadn’t mapped out every inch of her with his lips or heard the way she sounded when she was in her greatest moment of euphoria. Like he didn’t love her already.

So he turned with his hands on his hips and kept his eyes trained on the crack in the tile as he muttered, “Yeah?”

“Uh — “ Delphia coughed and tried again. “Did I — Did I do something wrong?”

The quietness of her voice surprised him — the earnestness. He glanced over at her and his knees nearly buckled. There were tears shining in those big blue eyes that searched him like she could read him like a book. Her fists were clenched so tight her knuckles had gone white. Her lip trembled as she held in her tears. But still, her question confused him.

“What?” he asked quietly.

“Did I do something wrong?” she repeated, “Did I overstep somewhere? Was it when we talked about your ex, June?”

Rick looked up and down the hallway. He didn’t like that this was happening here. Anyone could walk in on them and see what was happening. Without a word he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her into the janitor’s closet behind them. And Delphia didn’t protest, she let him lead her until the closet door was shut and the light above had been clicked on.

Swallowing thickly, he found he still couldn’t quite look at her — fear gnawing at the back of his brain like he was the one to have done something wrong here. Maybe he was starting to think that he was.

“You — You didn’t do anythin’ wrong,” he struggled to say.

He looked up at her through his eyelashes, unable to look at her straight in the face for some reason, and he saw her eyes flash.

“Then why the hell’ve you been ignoring me?”

Rick shrugged defiantly, finding his excuse now to be childish. “Cause — Cause you and Gordon.”

His excuse sat heavy between them like a dead body. Delphia refused to tear her gaze away from him, her face pinched in a way he had never seen before — furious and confused all at once. While Rick could barely look at her.

“What do you mean me and Gordon? He’s just some guy!” she said, her face contorting in confusion even further.

“You guys were talkin’ the other day — gigglin’ n’shit in your office! I saw it with my own eyes!”

She stared off at the empty space by his head for a moment, then lifted her hands to her forehead and shouted quietly, “He was asking me to watch his cat while he went on mission!”

Rick’s shoulders dropped. His face blanched, a wicked heat licking at his neck and cheeks as he awkwardly readjusted the grip he had on his hips. But there was still something that wasn’t explained.

“What about the flowers?” he asked quietly, almost like he knew he was already defeated.

“The — The flowers in my office right now?” she questioned back, glancing towards the door for further effect, “They’re from my mom — celebrating my three year anniversary in Louisiana.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

It felt like his entire body was on fire with embarrassment now. Since when did this closet feel so humid? Since when did that look on her face feel so furious and so...disappointed? Part of him wanted to run and hide. Wait for the storm to blow over and pull himself out of his hole when he felt less shameful. But the other part of him, and the part that won out, wanted to fix this with her. Wanted to make things right.

“Dee, I’m — “ he started.

But she launched herself across the small space between them and knocked him back into the built-in shelving. Her strength surprised him and turned him on only slightly. And then she kissed him furiously, strong enough to leave bruises. She fisted his quarter zip in her hands and pulled him down to meet her.

“I wanna punch — “ Another kiss. “ — you but — “ Another kiss. “ — I’m kissing you — “ Another kiss. “Instead!”

The last press of her lips softened only slightly, turned to molten love against his mouth as she passed her tongue along his bottom lip. They were both panting by the time she pulled away completely, Rick chasing her lips subconsciously but she leaned further back with a smirk.

“Didn’t know you needed so much reassurance we were exclusive, Flag,” she whispered, her hand sliding up to gently curl around his throat.

“I — shit — I’m sorry,” he screwed his eyes shut against the guilt and the shame, “I just…I really didn’t want to mess things up with you. Then I saw ya with Gordon and I just…fuck, I don’t know.

“I’ve prolly already messed this up — you and me.”

Delphia’s expression softened slightly as she smoothed her thumb over the edge of his jaw. “I admitted I liked you like some teenage girl behind the bleachers at a football game. What made you think I’d try and go for someone else?”

“I don’t know….” he muttered with his eyes shut.

But he did know. He had spent the past week convincing himself that he wasn’t good enough for her. That maybe she had just been caught up in the moment and that was why she said all those things. His life was too dangerous, he wouldn’t be able to settle down, he was too hard in all the places she wanted something soft, he had too much baggage for her to handle. He would be too much and never enough for someone like her and it was better if they just didn’t get together at all.

Her lips, so soft and sweet, were pressed to his once more. But they weren’t violent and bruising — they were gentle and caring in their caress as she pried his mouth open and slipped her tongue inside. One of those kisses that seared itself on his soul and made an ache form in his very heart.

“Dinner — tonight?” she whispered against the corner of his mouth.

He didn’t deserve it. Not after what he did, so he opened his mouth to painfully say no — but she stopped him with another kiss.

“You didn’t mess things up — you didn’t. Just lets me know I gotta….reassure you every once and a while.” With one hand still on his throat, the other slid down his front, ghosted over the edge of his tacpants. “I’m all yours, Rick. Me and you. Pick me up at seven?”

Her hand had slipped inside his pants and all he could do was nod frantically in reply.

“Good.” Her grin was nearly wicked. “Now let me remind you who it is I wanna be with.”

Taglist (if you would like to be tagged in future installments, just let me know!): @bbygrgu @a-reader-and-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16 @runic-belova @weallhaveadestiny @oopsiedoopsie23 @nerdgrrlramblings @ocfairygodmother @reysorigins @hawsx3

#rick flag #colonel rick flag #rick flag x oc #rick flag x delphia holman #rick flag imagine #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag fanfic #rick flag fic #suicide squad #the suicide squad #suicide squad x oc #suicide squad imagine #suicide squad fanfiction #suicide squad fanfic #suicide squad fic #joel kinnaman #joel kinnaman imagine #dceu oc #dceu x oc #dceu imagine #dceu fanfiction #dceu fanfic #dceu fic #oc appreciation

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

TaskForceX!Delphia AU - i am not a woman, i’m a god (Rick Flag x AU!OC)

Summary: Ra's al Ghul has some devious plans - and calling Batman is completely off the table. So Amanda Waller decides to bring out The Oracle, ex-partner and somehow lover of the criminal mastermind, to quietly put his plans to an end. But what commanding officer Rick Flag never expected from this mission was to get jealous.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 9368

Warnings: language, adult themes (drinking/alcohol, club scene), themes of abuse/manipulation/gaslighting, blood mention, gun mention, some seriously suggestive language, idiots in love, sadist themes (that may not be the right word here, if someone knows the right one please let me know)

if i go masterlist

A/N: Huge shoutout to @a-reader-and-a-writer @loverhymeswith and @reysorigins for beta reading this. You guys are seriously amazing and I love you all. This ones for you babes. And if you wanna get in The Mood while reading this piece, I suggest listening to this while reading:

The mission brief was in Conference Room D because Waller had put together a presentation—more like her assistant had put together a presentation, slapping their boss’s name on it so they wouldn’t get fired. Poor soul must be miserable.

The first slide was a long-distance shot of a man with a goatee and a fancy suit.

“Ra’s al Ghul—millionaire criminal mastermind whose one goal in life is to create environmental balance. He believes that to save the world, most of the human population on Earth must be destroyed,” Waller explained.

Rick flicked through the file as Waller talked. Going up against such heavy hitters was usually not Task Force X’s problem. Those were left to the real heroes, not a rowdy band of criminals who never got credit and were exceptionally expendable. That was the very reason the Task Force was even created.

“And he just got a brand-new toy.” The next slide came up, a grainy cell phone picture of some kind of stone archway. “The man we have planted inside Ghul’s regime tells us that this is a portal to another dimension. And on the other side? Soul-sucking demons that will kill everyone on this planet like the world's fastest virus. Ghul’s dreams will come true if he gets that portal opened.”

The slide clicked back to another picture of Ghul. “Apparently, he has the key to this portal on his person at all times. Doesn’t trust anyone with it, not even his safe. He plans to open the portal in five days once the ceremony has been prepared. So, we have five days to come up with a plan to get that key off him.”

“Easy,” Rick grunted as he flipped the file closed. “Storm the base, light it up—”

“This is not something that can be taken by brute force, Colonel. As much as I would love to see you up against Ra’s al Ghul, he’s too big a character for us to go up against in that capacity. This will need to be covert.”

“Why don’t we call up fuckin’ Batman then?” Rick asked as he leaned back in his chair.

Waller shook her head. “Can’t. Got in an altercation with Bane, broke his back, and hasn’t been seen since. Superman is off-world and Wonder Woman stepped through a portal of her own a few weeks ago. We’re all the world has left, Colonel.”

“Well, shit.”

That was not a positive outlook for the world, then.

“If you could take a look at the other file I gave you,” Waller said.

Rick’s brow furrowed as he lifted the file on Ghul, surprised to see that there was another underneath it. Was there more to this than interdimensional portals and soul-sucking demons? He opened the file only to be met with a half-lidded, blue-eyed stare and locks of white hair.

“Oracle?”

“That’s right, Colonel.” She clicked to the next slide to show a picture of Delphia Holman and Ra’s al Ghul together. “Delphia ‘Oracle’ Holman was found on the streets of Gotham by Ghul, beginning her career of crime as his right-hand woman— that is, until she left to join the ranks of Lex Luther, where she formed an even more… Intimate relationship.”

He didn’t want to, but Rick stiffened at this. Jealousy like a sharp pain hit him in the gut, but he shook it off quickly with a roll of his shoulders and a clench of his jaw. God, what was wrong with him? She was just another criminal—an apathetic maniac who could see into the future, who scared him with how powerful she really was. Who had listened to him talk quietly about his childhood with a wonder and longing in her eyes that made him feel sick. Who warned him once that he was going to get seriously injured on a mission—and when he refused to hear it, she had saved him.

He could picture her face even now, lying on top of him after she had tackled him out of the way of the bullet that would have given him spinal surgery. He had never seen such conflict in someone’s eyes; there was a war going on inside her, and he didn’t understand why. Not until she scrambled away from him and marched off without another word.

“So, what’s the plan? Thought you didn’t like to bring out the Oracle unless absolutely necessary,” Rick stated as he crossed his arms.

“I don’t. But at this point, I’m desperate. Ra’s al Ghul goes to the same club in Gotham every Tuesday night: The Cherry. The plan is to have Oracle planted at the club—Ghul will ask to take her back to his penthouse suite, where she will steal the key. You and Blackguard will be her backup at the club.”

“Think she’ll agree to it?”

“She’ll agree if you tell her.”

Rick’s jaw ticked again. He was foolish to think that Waller hadn’t noticed whatever was going on between him and Delphia—if there was even anything there. But Waller noticed everything, it seemed. Even the potential for something.

“Fine.”

As Rick got up from his chair and exited the conference room, he could see Waller’s shit-eating smirk out of the corner of his eye. A grimace pulled at his mouth as he stalked down the hallway towards the penitentiary entrance.

Fuck Amanda Waller.

Delphia got thrown in solitary again for getting in a screaming match with one of the guards. She liked it better down there. It was quiet except for the growls of the crocodile man that lived down the hall, but she could easily tune that out. None of her few personal possessions were allowed in the cramped concrete space, but that didn’t matter much, either. She had gone most of her life without anything to call her own. All she had down here was a small cot, the sink, and the toilet. That was plenty to go by for the next two weeks.

So there she sat on her cot, legs crossed as she tried to scratch an itch underneath her power-dampening collar. It was always a real bitch to get under there.

Then there was a knock on the metal door of her cell.

She only glanced over at the window, still concentrated on getting her fingers beneath the harsh metal of her collar.

“What?”

“Hey, Holman.”

It was embarrassing how that stupid southern drawl made her instantly perk up. Her hands fell from that obnoxious hunk of metal and she sat up on her cot to get a proper look out the window. It had been six months since the last time she saw him. It was some mission that she didn’t even get used for—the situation was less dangerous than they thought. Her collar never came off once on that trip, and he apologized for it. Apologized. In a soft way that made bile rise in her throat.

“Gotta new assignment for ya,” Rick said as he slid the file through the bars of the window. “Not sure if you’re gonna like it.”

“Since when do I like any of the missions I go on?” She asked as she got up from the cot.

Delphia took the file from his hand, trying not to make eye contact before she opened it up. The task proved impossible; she really couldn’t help herself. Not when she hadn’t looked into those hazel eyes in six months. Before those eyes, nothing had ever felt like home.

With heat creeping up her neck, she opened the file. But all the warmth instantly drained from her body, replaced by a chilling fear when she saw Ra’s al Ghul’s picture pinned to the top.

“No,” she immediately said, pushing the file back through the bars before Rick could catch it, the splattering of paper on the floor audible through the door. “No. I refuse.”

“I’m sorry,” —There was that sick feeling rising in her throat again— “But I really don’t think you gotta choice. You’re the main player in Waller’s plan.”

“Don’t give a shit. I’m not doin’ it.”

Rick’s sigh reverberated through the metal door.

“You’ll get to save the world,” he tried.

Delphia stared at the concrete wall, arms crossed, lip caught so hard between her teeth that she was drawing blood. Ra’s was finally going to do it. All those nights of him waxing poetic about his plans to cleanse the world were finally coming true. She never believed them, no matter how many times she told him that his dream was right. Back then, she had nowhere else to go; Ra’s al Ghul was everything to her. Her source of income, the provider of the roof over her head… The first man to ever love her, know her—and he knew it. He took advantage of it, until she could finally get away.

And she hadn’t gone back to him since.

Delphia found herself asking quietly, “What’s his plan?”

“Some ancient portal to another dimension—soul-sucking demons,” Rick explained. “Gonna open it in five days.”

“Just put up the bat signal, and be done with it.”

“Can’t. We’re literally the world’s last hope.”

“The world’s fucking doomed then,” she sighed, finally looking back through the bars at Rick.

He looked at her so softly, so gently. If she said no again, she knew that would be the end of it. He would take her answer back to Waller and get ripped a new one. But if she really was the last thing standing between Ra’s al Ghul and his destruction of mankind... She would give anything to see his fucking face when she stopped him—for him to know that it was her, his loyal henchman, who foiled the plans that he had been working his entire life for. It would be payback and revenge and justice and redemption for everything he put her through.

Just one look, and Rick knew that she was in. He nodded solemnly, understandingly—like he knew what it would cost her to take this mission on. And maybe he did.

“How well you play with Blackguard?” He asked with a smirk.

“Alright,” she replied with a sigh, “He’s just a kid.”

“Well, you got my full permission to punch him in the face whenever you feel so inclined,” Rick said as he backed away from the window.

The metal door gave a loud buzz and click as it unlocked. Two guards rushed in and clamped a pair of cuffs around her wrists before she could blink. Delphia watched, her face heated, as Rick glared at the pair of them. The two guards instantly backed away, retreating to their posts on either side of her door like kicked dogs. Once they were back in their place, Rick cocked his head for her to follow him out of her cell.

It took her a long time to cross the threshold. Was she sure about this? Could she really take on Ra’s al Ghul? She feared returning to his side for a reason—it would be so easy to fall back into his comfortable lap and have the world at her fingertips once more. But she still bore the scars of all the times his kindness had turned on her. Ghul found a broken girl on the streets and twisted her, mangled her, and shaped her into something of his liking. A loyal pet that would do anything for him out of gratitude—that barely flinched when his anger turned on it. Would she be able to face him again without falling into those familiar patterns? Was she being set up to fail?

Her foot finally fell through the door, and she was out in the hallway with Rick. Her head twisted to look at him as they walked—all softness and determination.

If he was with her… Maybe she could.

After Delphia and Blackguard’s mission briefing, Rick rode with them in the transport vehicle to the tarmac. Blackguard tried to make light conversation, obviously excited about getting outside the prison and “doing something cool” for once. Rick tried to make conversation, talking about the handful of times he had been to a club before. But anytime Blackguard tried to include Delphia, she would just stare at him, her half-lidded eyes boring straight through him until he gave up with an uncomfortable cough.

Rick escorted the two of them onto the cargo plane for their trip to Gotham.

“Oh shit, are those fucking suits?” Blackguard asked as soon as they entered through the ramp.

“Well, yeah. We’re goin’ undercover—gotta look the part,” Rick explained as he punched the button to close the hatch. “I suggest y’all change before takeoff.”

At the back of the cargo hold towards the cockpit, there was a rack filled with clothes in an array of colors. Different styles of shoes were laid out on the floor and a handful of toiletries beside a makeshift mirror. Waller wanted to ensure that they blended in, so they wouldn’t be caught.

Rick watched curiously as Delphia approached the rack with Blackguard, her chapped hands and uneven nails reaching towards the clothes. There were several dress options for her. Blackguard already made his choice—a black suit with a black shirt and tie—taking the outfit from the rack to his seat with a smile. Rick slid in beside Delphia with a cocked brow; he had never been very good at picking out clothes.

“The bitch stole my clothes,” he heard her mumble.

“What?”

“Waller,” Delphia said as she swiped through the hangers one last time, “These are clothes from my old apartment. She took them.”

Rick didn’t know what to say. “Sorry.”

“Not sure what I expected to happen to all my stuff,” she muttered as she pulled a white garment from the rack and turned towards her seat, “Just — Didn’t think it’d be this.”

Rick sighed as he watched her go, glancing at the dresses she left behind. These were all hers? They didn’t look like much, hanging there, but he could tell that they would all cling to her body like water, ending well above the knee. He wondered if the one she decided to wear was anything like that. He had to shake his head to make himself stop thinking about it—her body in those dresses. It wasn’t right of him, and he knew it. So instead, he focused back on the suits.

He had no idea what to wear. When he pulled out a navy suit jacket, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Delphia looking at him with a shake of her head. Not that one? He put it back, pulling out a deep maroon jacket and pants. He saw her nod—a difficult task with the metal collar. She guided him the rest of the way with subtle facial expressions and shakes of her head.

In the end, his outfit was complete: A maroon suit, white shirt (no tie), and a pair of white trainers. Draping the clothes across a seat on the same side of the plane as Delphia, Rick began to unzip his jacket. The plane’s engine was already rumbling beneath his feet, right on schedule.

“Er—Flag?” Delphia asked.

“Yeah?”

She looked hesitant, lip caught between her teeth as her blue eyes kept dancing to Blackguard across the cargo hold, who had already stripped down to his underwear. Taking a deep breath, she seemed to resolve something inside herself—like she was gathering her courage and finally had enough.

She said, “Could you maybe… Stand…?”

She gestured vaguely to the space between her and Blackguard. God, how could he have forgotten? They usually have team members dress before missions in gender-split areas. But even then, Delphia always waited until everyone was gone before getting into her suit. He never expected her to be so modest—but maybe it was because she was trying to hide something. It scratched at his brain that he would never know the answer.

“Yeah, ’course,” he said understandingly.

He shifted to stand in front of her, hands on his hips and shoulders straight so he took up as much space as possible. Every muscle in his body was clenched tight when he heard the tough fabric of her prison uniform drop to the ground. His jaw ticked as he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling. He was able to keep still while sneaking past a motion sensor; keep his eyes ahead when his fellow men were left for dead. But this right here was his greatest temptation. It took every ounce of his self-control and willpower not to glance over his shoulder at her. He respected her and her wishes; she didn’t want to be seen in such a vulnerable state, and he was going to respect that. He was sure his mother would come down from heaven to smack him if he didn’t—once Delphia was done with him, of course.

While he was standing there, he made eye contact with Blackguard once or twice, but the boy was too distracted by his new suit to care.

The way she tapped between his shoulder blades nearly made him jump.

“M’done,” she muttered.

Rick tried to go back to his seat and finish getting changed—he really did. That’s what he wanted to do. But out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a pale shoulder, and he was a goner. The white coveralls she wore on missions and the bright orange prison uniform were the only things he had ever seen her in—until now. Her dress was white as snow, clinging to every curve. It showed off the hard muscle of her arms and legs, the thin straps on her shoulders barely holding the thing up. It came down just past her knee with a slit that traveled nearly the entire length of her leg.

Then, he saw them. All those scars.

The stark white and red marks barely poked out from the confines of her dress, clearly a deliberate choice so people wouldn’t ask questions. It looked like someone had kept a running count on her skin. He could see several tiny burns on her thigh from the snuffed cigarettes that made her scream.

Blue eyes drew him in, and he understood what they told him.

Don’t ask. Please just leave it alone.

So he did. He finally yanked himself back to his seat and started getting changed as the airplane took off. But every motion he made was hard and angry. As she put on her heels and strutted to the other end of the plane to do her hair and makeup, he couldn’t stop thinking about those marks. He knew what scars from combat looked like—and they looked nothing like that. Those were deliberate, used to cause her great harm. His blood was boiling, because he had a pretty good guess as to who had done that to her. And this mission was throwing her back into his arms. No wonder she didn’t want to do it.

Rick Flag had never experienced a morbid, red-hot desire to kill anyone… No. Not until this moment.

They were only thirty minutes from Gotham airport. From there, a car would pick them up and take them to The Cherry; loop the entrance three times so it wouldn’t look like they came to the club together. More importantly, so it looked like Delphia came to the club alone—looking for Ra’s al Ghul.

The mirror hung in the corner of the cargo hold was dingy and cracked. Delphia had finished her makeup and hair a while ago, done the way Ra’s liked it, but she still stared at herself through the cracks in that mirror. It had been so long since she looked like this—all dolled up and ready for a night on the town, save for the giant metal collar still clamped around her throat. Even before she got arrested, she worked alone. No need to accompany some big bad male to the club or his little team meetings, wanting her to be nothing more than a pretty thing on his arm.

That is, until they wanted their dirty work done. Until they wanted her to be a pretty weapon—sharp and beautiful with a mouth full of razors and a twisted sense of apathy.

She turned away from the glass with a sigh, noticing Rick sitting next to his neatly folded tactical uniform. He cleaned up nicely, she had to admit. The suit looked gorgeous against his tan skin. And she wasn’t sure if he did it on purpose, but the number of buttons left undone on his shirt was nearly obscene, exposing a good portion of his sternum to the world. To her. His eyebrows were buckled as he stared at a jar of hair product, probably deciding if he should do something with his hair.

“You should do it,” Delphia told him as she crossed the hold.

“Do what?” Rick asked.

“Something with your hair.” She gestured vaguely at his head as she sat down. “You’re not that close to a military cut—but if you wanna look like a fuckboy, you gotta commit.”

He huffed with a slight smile. It was shameful how that made a pathetic sort of pride rise in her chest; she made him smile.

“How should I do it, then?”

Delphia pointed at Blackguard across the cargo hold. “Ask the residential fuckboy.”

“Ya know, I resent that,” Blackguard said, then sighed and relented. “Push it back. You’ve got it short on the sides and long on top—it’ll look good.”

Rick looked back to Delphia for confirmation, and she nodded.

“Alright, fine.”

He got up and went over to the mirror. Delphia watched, head cocked to the side as he completely and totally fucked it up. He grunted in frustration as he tried to fix it, still failing miserably, the dirty blonde strands of hair sticking up in all different directions instead.

Delphia rose from her seat with a huff and took the jar from his hand. Rick turned to look at her with a furrowed brow, mouth pinched like he knew he messed up.

“Let me help,” she told him quietly.

Scooping a generous amount of product from the jar, she set the container on the metal edge of the cargo hold’s seam, smoothing the putty over her fingers before pushing it into his hair. His scalp felt warm beneath her hands, his breath fanning her face as she worked the product into his hair. She pushed it away from his face, smoothing it all down. She tried not to notice those dark eyes slip closed, his eyebrows lifted like he was enjoying it. She didn’t want to notice—not when she could so easily trail a hand down that thick neck of his and make it disappear under the collar of his unbuttoned shirt. It would be so easy. Too easy. She respected him too much to do anything like that. He was her commanding officer, the man in charge. And he was Rick Flag. He was too good, too caring, too sweet. She would only ruin him—twist him and shape him into something dark that matched her own soul, like everyone had done to her before. It’s a cycle that she was determined to break, even if that meant never getting an ounce of him. She swallowed thickly as she pulled a single lock of hair free and lay it over his forehead. It took every ounce of willpower she had to pull her hands away when she was finished.

No. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—get familiar.

Rick opened his eyes again and quirked a brow. “Good?”

“Good. Now you look like a real fuckboy.”

He nodded in thanks before moving around her and snatching a small plastic case from the floor. Delphia had to take a large, calming breath before she could turn and face him again.

“Alright, these are our comms.” Rick popped open the case to reveal a foamy inside, with little indents for three nude earpieces and three signal packs. “We’ll be using channel three.”

Delphia took an earpiece and a signal pack after Blackguard, shoving the little piece of plastic in her ear and the metal block into her clutch after she tuned it to the proper channel.

“Channel three check,” Rick’s voice echoed in the cargo hold as well as her ear.

“Channel three check,” came Blackguard’s drone.

Delphia took a breath as she buckled herself in for landing. “Channel three check.”

“Alright people,” Waller’s voice suddenly sounded off in her head like her conscience. “Let’s start the show.”

The plane landed with a soft thud and the pilot came over the intercom, informing them they had reached Gotham airport. Delphia unclipped herself from her seat and gathered up her clutch, ready for the hatch to open to get out of this stuffy tin can.

But then Rick approached her with the metal key to her collar, and she stopped dead in her tracks. Right—she had nearly forgotten it was on. He reached around the back of her neck and inserted the key, the collar clicking and hissing softly as it released. Delphia grunted quietly at the sudden decrease in pressure around her throat. Rick took the heavy contraption in one hand and tossed it into her empty seat, looking disgusted by it. She reached up and touched her neck for what felt like the first time in forever. The flesh felt raw and hot, likely a bright shade of red. It was made worse by the fact she was scratching at her skin like a dog with fleas. Good thing she put some concealer in her clutch.

“No funny business, Oracle,” Waller warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Delphia was dropped off at the club first. The way she looked at Rick sitting across from her when the valet opened the door made it felt like he had just been shot. For the entire ride from the airport, Blackguard was filling the silence with some story about his partying days before Belle Reve, while Delphia stared down at the floor with unfocused eyes and her arms crossed tight over her chest. But then the door opened, and her expression finally changed—from nothing to something Rick couldn’t quite place. Fear? Doubt? Either way, he felt his blood run cold as she stepped out of the car and the door shut behind her.

“I’m next, right?” Blackguard asked as he fidgeted with his suit pants.

“No,” Rick grunted, starting to lose his patience. “Just remember to use the fake name Waller put on the list—”

“Yeah, yeah, Winston Schmidt.”

“And if you try to steal this car while you’re alone… Just remember I will blow out your skull,” Waller said over comms.

Blackguard adjusted his pants one more time as the car pulled up to the curb once more. “Yeah, yeah.”

When the door opened this time, Rick slid out of the car and adjusted the lay of his jacket. There was a line of people waiting to get in to the right of the darkened glass door. A bouncer in an all-black suit stood at the beginning of the line with a clipboard in hand and an earpiece. He clearly had a sidearm hidden beneath his jacket—but then again, so did Rick. A bright red neon sign glowed above the door, shouting The Cherry to anyone that passed by, along with a cartoon depiction of a woman’s mouth sucking on a pair of cherries.

Rick straightened his shoulders and walked up to the door. The bouncer held out a hand, shifting his grip on the clipboard. The thumping bass could be heard from inside.

“Nick Miller,” Rick replied, trying to act nonchalant.

The bouncer scanned the list for a moment. Rick wondered if Delphia even had to say her name; she came here with Ra’s every Tuesday night for years. It was like a movie in his head: Her, walking up to the door with that white dress, the bouncer not being able to open the door for her fast enough…

“Found ya!” The bouncer finally exclaimed. Then he opened the door, letting the music wash over the sidewalk like a shadow. “Enjoy your evening, Mr. Miller.”

Rick nodded before stepping through the door.

Even though it was dark outside, it was nothing in comparison to the darkness of the club. The bass of the music pulsed through his veins. There were people everywhere, stuffed into every corner and crevice. The Cherry had two floors; on the main floor was the dancefloor and the bar, neon strobes and blacklights flickering all over the place. On the balcony, private booths overlooked the first floor, each one already filled by somebody important in Gotham. Rick couldn’t spot Ghul as he moved further into the club, squeezing past scantily clad girls and sweaty people.

“I’m inside,” he informed over comms.

“At the bar.” Delphia’s voice was barely a whisper over the loud music.

Rick searched for her as he found an empty column to lean against. She wasn’t hard to spot, her white hair seeming to glow in the dim lights of the club. She stood there sipping on a martini, hiding her mouth behind the glass, staring out at the dancefloor like she was exactly where she wanted to be.

“Think Ghul’s noticed you yet?” He asked as he observed a laughing pair of men slapping at each other’s backs as they walked past him.

“Oh, he has.”

“How do you know?” Blackguard questioned suddenly. “I’m inside, by the way.”

“Blackguard, get up to the second floor and watch from above.”

“He can’t,” Delphia said.

Rick sighed in annoyance. “Why not?”

“Ra’s is up there—third booth from the left. One of his men is stationed at the bottom of the stairs. There’s not anybody up there that he doesn’t want to be.”

“Is there a set of service stairs?”

“Yeah. Through the kitchens.”

Blackguard’s loud, disappointed sigh crackled in his ear. “I’m on it.”

Rick spotted Delphia across the club again. Even from that distance, he could tell that she was already looking over at him.

“You look stupid standing there without a drink,” she told him.

“You’re already at the bar.”

“Right. Undercover—separately.” She sat down her drink and called for the bartender to refill it. “Ra’s knows I’m here. He’s watching. But he doesn’t care.”

“You gonna make him care?”

Her drink was refilled, and she picked it up again. “He’s got a jealous streak. If I dance with some rando, he’s bound to send one of his men to come get me.”

Rick couldn’t fathom having to watch her grind against someone in this club. It was difficult enough having to watch her lean up against the bar, all that skin exposed with the sole intent of catching another man’s eye. His jaw clicked, and before he could even fully process what he was saying, he grunted out:

“No civilians.”

“Seriously?” Delphia scoffed. “Who the hell am I supposed to dance with then?”

“I volunteer!” Blackguard hissed quietly.

“No,” Rick all but barked. “You stay up there and watch our sixes.”

Delphia seemed to understand what he was getting at. From across the room, he watched her set down her drink and crook her finger at him—like she didn’t even know him. A thrill ran down his spine as he picked himself off the concrete pillar and made his way through the crowd to her. As he got closer, her red-painted lips twitched up in a smirk. For a moment—just a moment—he could pretend this was real. That they were actually meeting in this club for the first time, instead of being here on a mission. That she really wanted to get close to him, to dance with him. That she could look at him like she wanted him, and maybe he could do the same. That they were both free.

“Care for a drink?” She asked sweetly as he sidled up next to her at the bar, with a Cheshire cat smile that reminded him too much of Harley. “I’m buyin’.”

“Nah, I’m good,” he chuckled.

“Suit yourself,” Delphia sighed, picking up her nearly empty martini glass and leaning in close enough that he could smell her hair product over the booze. “So what’s a guy like you doin’ in a place like this?”

“Not entirely sure.” With one elbow on the bar, he watched her down the rest of her drink. “What’s a girl like you doin’ here?”

She turned to face him, so close they were chest-to-chest, and smirked. “Thinking terrible things, baby. Terrible things.”

Rick’s brow furrowed as he tried to understand her objective—to figure out that torn look in her eye.

But he couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped him when she boldly slid her hand beneath the collar of his shirt. He knew he had left too many of the buttons undone. Her nails scratched across his chest, and he looked down at her while she watched his throat bob. Some primal instinct overcame him, and he latched onto her waist, pulling her flush against him. He could feel every devilish curve, the sharp points of her hip bone, those hidden ridges of muscle that no one would expect. Without even noticing, his other hand disappeared into that slit in her dress, feeling the mottled flesh of her thigh beneath his fingertips. Then her hand was clamped around his wrist, pulling it away. Her fingers barely curled around the entire thing.

“Sorry,” he muttered against her temple, cursing himself for taking it too far, moving to pull his hands away from her entirely.

“No—it’s okay.” She gently grabbed the hand that left her waist, putting it back, her fingers trailing up his arm and back to his chest.

Christ, he felt like he was going to fucking explode. She could probably see it too. It was written all over his solemn expression; the incessant bob of his throat; the way he breathed deeply right into her ear. He really couldn’t help it. Not when her fingers, delicate as a brushstroke, ghosted over the buttons of his shirt, dancing around the top of his pants. It made him gulp and squeeze her waist a bit tighter.

She leaned up, her chest fully pressed into his, and spoke into his jaw.

“Take me to dance?”

Rick didn’t say a word before grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the bar. They disappeared into the crowd and situated themselves in the closest thing they could find to an empty spot on the dancefloor. Nerves bunched in Rick’s gut as he tugged Delphia into him—this was the part he didn’t know how to do. He never had been one for dancing.

Apparently, she could read it all over him. Her hands snaked around the back of his neck as she pressed her hips flush against his. “Just follow my lead,” she whispered.

Delphia made it look so easy. She moved her hips in time to the beat, rolled them up into his thigh as she practically dangled from his neck. Rick followed as best he could, keeping his face buried in her hair so she couldn’t see how blown out his pupils were. He kept his hands on her waist, making it seem like he was the one guiding the show, instead of the other way around.

She paused for a moment, breathing heavily. “Rick?”

“Hmm?” He hummed into her hairline.

“Touch me.”

“I can’t,” he breathed, holding on to his last thread of sanity, though her scent was driving him to the edge of intoxication. “You deserve…”

He couldn’t find what he wanted to say. She doesn’t deserve it? No. She deserved to be happy, loved, supported—all the things she had never felt an ounce of in her life.

She deserves better? Yeah. Maybe that was it. She deserved better than him feeling her up in a club. She deserved respect, boundaries—she deserved the right to dictate where someone’s hands fell on her body. He wanted her to have that. He never wanted to do something she didn’t want. Her entire life, things had happened to her that she didn’t want. He couldn’t imagine that that kid on the street wanted to become a criminal—to be turned into a weapon and a monster who did terrible things just for kicks. No… Delphia never did anything just for the fun of it. She found no satisfaction in hurting people. She wasn’t Harley crazy and she wasn’t Peacemaker justified. She was just a girl who never got any external love and support. And who could hold that against her?

A groan got stuck in Rick’s throat as her hands took hold of his and slid them down past her hips and over the curve of her ass. Of their own accord, those hands traveled back up her back to card through the tips of her white hair. Another groan nearly choked him when her lips pressed against his exposed collarbone—not some accidental brush. A kiss. What was that supposed to mean?

But then she glanced over his shoulder at the balcony, and it was like a bucket of ice had been dumped on his head. Right. This wasn’t just him and her meeting in this too-loud club; this was a mission. There was a mark Delphia was trying to get the attention of. She was a criminal and he was her commanding officer. He had gotten so lost in the moment he had nearly forgotten. But he wanted this moment back—that little pocket of time where nothing else mattered but the pretty girl in the white dress and the boy who just wanted her to feel loved.

Before his mind could fully catch up with what was happening, a man pulled at Delphia’s arm and whispered in her ear for her to follow. Rick watched her go with an expression that he hoped would read somewhere between angry and disappointed—not full-blown devastated, like he was really feeling.

As she was led away, Delphia looked back over her shoulder at him one last time. He wanted to tell her not to go.

“Delphia! Darling!” Ra’s al Ghul greeted as he stood from his usual curved booth. He looked relatively the same. Maybe a little older. More grey on those temples. He wore a velvet, forest green suit and a black-as-night tie—his usual color combination.

Something deep and terrible twisted in Delphia’s gut when he took hold of her shoulders and kissed both her cheeks. Memories flashed before her eyes… Those same hands, punching her in the gut. Those same lips, screaming at her to be better, harder, crueler than she ever wanted to be.

“Good to see you, Ra’s,” she told him, faking her casual, jovial demeanor so well.

“Everyone—make room!” Ra’s told his full table with a wave of his hands. “The Oracle has returned to our circle!”

Delphia watched as some poor soul had to get out of the booth, being escorted away so she could sit down. Ra’s patted the open spot of leather beside him and propped his arm on the back of the booth. She sat with a smile, her skin feeling like it was crawling with spiders.

“Now, now—I thought… You were arrested, dear Delphia,” Ra’s said, glancing around at the group to make sure he had their attention. “Locked up in Belle Reve.”

“Just a rumour.” She put on the silky voice and mischievous smile that she knew he liked. “You know I’d never let anyone catch me.”

“Mm, except the Batman, of course.” He squeezed her shoulder hard, and it took everything in her to keep from flinching.

She smiled again. “You know that wasn’t anything personal, darling. He was only a means to an end.”

Ra’s grinned around at the table, messing with the straw poking out of his drink. Then he looked back at her with a glint in his eye that made bile rise in her throat.

“Just like everyone else to you, yes?”

His expression instantly changed. He looked intrigued, like a cat finding a mouse to play with in the walls of its home. Scooting closer to her, he chuckled devilishly. Oh, no. She must have betrayed something in her expression—some slight quirk or dip that made him take notice. A crack—a weakness.

“Who was that man you were dancing with earlier?”

“No one,” she instantly replied. “Just some guy.”

“No, no—I can see it.” He pointed at her face with a smirk. “You belong to someone else now. How very sad.”

“I haven’t belonged to anyone in a long time, Ra’s.”

That was true. She belonged to no one. But still, the words shot through her chest like an arrow laced with poison. For so long, her heart had been caged in, walled with iron and set with defences. No one was allowed in, and nothing was allowed out.

But Rick fucking Flag. He had somehow wormed his way in; made her think that maybe she could be a good person. Because he killed, he maimed, he did terrible things—but somehow, he was still good. He was still kind, he still cared, and he still had that sense of sympathy that had been lost to her lifetimes ago. He always made her wonder: Could she be good like that?

It felt like corruption, in a way. Weakening. Like her defenses were being torn down and she would be left vulnerable to attack. But wasn’t baring your heart and soul strength? Wasn’t it harder to be made of soft flesh than solid stone? Rick Flag wasn’t making her into something of his own liking—no. He was untwisting, demangling, and relaxing her into whatever shape she wanted to be. She didn’t know what that shape was yet, and he was okay with that. God, it made her heart ache and her stomach burn. It made panic rise in her throat, because she didn’t know what to do with all that kindness—all the goodness he bestowed her, like some heavy crown. It was too much and never enough. No… She couldn’t get familiar.

Her inner strife had made sitting next to Ra’s al Goul—the man that turned her into a monster—that much harder.

“So, Oracle, what brings you here tonight?” Ra’s asked casually over the lip of his drink, like he hadn’t just wrecked her mind and soul.

She sunk back into the ruse with ease, leaning against his side, running her finger over the rim of the drink he bought just for her. “Heard Batman got his back busted, and it will finally be done.”

A flip was switched. Ra’s stiffened beside her, leaned into her conspiratorially with eyebrows knitted together in fury. “How did you hear of this?”

“Word gets around in our circles fast, you know that,” she said, “Is it true?”

He shifted in his seat, pulled at the leg of his pants as his arm fell behind her, wrapping around her waist possessively. “Yes,” he growled in her ear.

“That’s amazing, Ra’s,” she breathed against his jawline. “It’s finally happening. The world will be cleansed.”

It was amazing how Delphia still knew how to get him going, letting him lose his defenses. Repeating his sentiments about the impurities of the world and its need for cleansing always seemed to do the trick. He groaned before he dove into her neck, mouthing at it greedily.

“Come with me to my hotel?” Ra’s asked as he peppered kisses along her shoulder. “I’ve missed you…”

Delphia paled at the thought, but kept up appearances. This was part of the plan. Make Ra’s trust her enough to get close, really close, so she could take the key from him. If she did it now, he would know that it was her. He knew her sleight of hand because he was the one who taught her that skill in the first place. He had to be good and comfortable, maybe even knocked out cold, before she could lift anything off of him.

“Why’re you staying at a hotel and not your penthouse?” She questioned quietly.

This detail made a wrinkle in Waller’s plan. She had assured Delphia that there was a suite in Ra’s building where the two men could camp out and wait for her return. Staying in a hotel obviously changed things.

“It’s near the airport,” he explained. “We leave bright and early for Siberia tomorrow for the ceremony to begin. Come with me, darling. Come with me.”

Delphia pulled his face from her neck, forcing their eyes to meet; something he always forced her to do when he wanted the truth. It was a sign that he could trust her. “Of course, darling. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Waller barked distant commands in her ear. “Economos, get us a room in the Gotham International Hotel, now!”

All according to plan.

Rick stood at the window, watching the sun rise over the Gotham skyline. It was a beautiful sight. Clouds painted pink and orange like giant balls of cotton candy rose up and up over the sky, the sun’s rays painting the blue hues even lighter. The dark buildings of Gotham stood in stark contrast to the majesty of nature, but Rick couldn’t pay attention even if he tried.

His earpiece was still shoved tight into his eardrum in case there would be the slightest sound over Blackguard’s snoring. But after a few more minutes of waiting in tense silence, the comm giving him absolutely nothing, he gave up with a frustrated groan.

Delphia had been silent for nearly six hours. Rick began to feel like a monster was gnawing at his insides, making it all feel wrong. He never should have taken his earpiece out last night—but when his eardrums were filled with pornographic moans and the sounds of slapping skin, he really couldn’t take it anymore. He dug the plastic out of his ear and chucked it onto his mattress, Blackguard telling him to put it back quick, because it was getting to the good part.

Rick sat on the empty bed where Blackguard wasn’t lying spread eagle in his underwear, pulling a hand over his face. He was exhausted down to the bone, which only made the worries eating at him all the more apparent. Is this what it felt like? To be a deer injured in the woods, waiting for buzzards to finish the job? Surely Delphia wouldn’t have run away with Ra’s. She would’ve known that Waller would blow her brains out before she could even make the door. No—what Rick really worried about was the possibility that Ra’s al Ghul had done something terrible. Caught her in the act of stealing from him and silenced her forever. Any chance at a good life, stolen from her… Any chance Rick had of telling her that he felt something for her, completely gone. It made his leg bounce and sweat accumulate on his palms.

“Flag,” —Waller’s voice nearly made him jump— “Heard anything from Oracle?”

“No, ma’am,” he replied.

“Her tracker still says she’s one floor above you. Presidential suite.”

Rick grunted. “Want me to make sure she’s still on mission?”

Yes, the mission… This had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted to make sure she was okay—that she was alive.

“No, let’s wait it out.” The hope for something to do deflated from Rick’s chest. “Ghul’s flight leaves in an hour. See what happens then.”

It took a few more minutes of jittering nerves before Rick was off the bed, moving into the hallway, leaving Waller’s planted tracker behind. As far as she was concerned, he was still in his hotel room following orders.

In the stairwell, he took the steps two at a time to reach the top floor, quietly shutting the door behind him. He crept down the hallway until he reached the corner, sticking his back to the wall so he could peek around and see what was going on.

There was one guard posted outside the presidential suite’s double doors. He turned with a yawn to look down the other hallway, and that’s when Rick made his move. He quietly snuck up on the guard, catlike, and caught him in a headlock—hand clamping tight over his mouth and nose. The guard only struggled for a moment before passing out from lack of oxygen, and Rick lowered him to the floor as the last breaths of conscienceness left him.

Pulling the pocketknife from his tactical pants, Rick made quick work of picking the lock on the door, and then he was inside.

The presidential suite was a whole lot nicer than the room they had downstairs. But apparently, Ra’s al Ghul and Delphia made easy work of wrecking the place. A lamp was in a million pieces on the floor, an armchair turned over on its side, papers from the desk scattered everywhere. Rick tiptoed around the mess, careful not to bump anything.

Then he saw the bed, its crisp white sheets in a torrent with Ghul tangled up in them, hairy legs exposed, lying on his stomach. He was still out cold, and Delphia was right there next to him, tucked under the covers with her white hair fanned out like a halo above her.

Rick took a step forward, but didn’t see the empty liquor bottle in his path. His boot crashed into it lightly, sending it twirling over the carpet. He stopped the curse on his tongue with a grimace.

Ghul only groaned in his sleep, mumbling incoherently as he tried to nestle back into the blankets. Delphia sat straight up on the bed, a thread of Ether shooting out of her palm as a deadly spear. But when she saw it was only Rick, she relaxed—quickly sending the Ether she had formed through one of Ghul’s ears and out the other side. Rick had seen her use her powers this way before as a way to show people a vision of the future. Or, in this case: Keep Ghul asleep long enough for the two of them to leave.

Rick’s fists tightened at his sides at the state she was in. There was an angry bruise under her left eye, her bottom lip cut and swollen, her right cheekbone even worse. Black and blue handprints wrapped around her throat. Rick felt like his entire body was on fire as he made eye contact with her. Delphia never looked so small, so weak. She was always such a loud presence, though she never said much. She was powerful and devastating. But now she just looked like that scared little girl that she never let the world catch a glimpse of.

He turned as she got out of the bed, just realizing that she was completely naked. Screwing his eyes shut, he tried to take hold of the reins of his self-control—if he didn’t, he was sure he would shoot Ra’s al Ghul in his sleep right there. Rick couldn’t fathom a psyche that justified hurting her like that. Laying hands on anyone like that.

The way she tapped between his shoulder blades nearly made him jump.

Delphia was back in her dress and high heels, clutch buried under her arm, a rekindled fire in her eyes. She was furious as she stared up at Rick for a moment before heading towards the door, and Rick followed her out of the room like a lost dog.

With a swipe of her hand, she put a thread of Ether into the guard's head—some vision to make him think he had fallen asleep. Rick watched her march down the hallway with anger boiling in his blood and a feeling of guilt gnawing at his stomach. It wasn’t until they got into the stairwell that she finally turned on him, backing him against the wall with a finger to his chest and a fury in her eyes that put the fear of God in him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Flag?” She questioned through a hiss, digging her finger into his sternum. “I had it under control.”

Rick couldn’t find the words to say. His mouth opened and closed like a freshly caught fish. When words finally slipped past his lips, they were probably the wrong ones:

“He hurt you.”

Fuck. Why the fuck did he say that?

He watched as her face twitched and cracked. As that busted lip trembled. As the fire was put out from her eyes. Her hand fell flat against his chest, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

Then she whispered, “Of course he did. Ra’s is… An intelligent man who—succumbs to his baser instincts when it comes to pleasure.”

“He gets off on beating you up?”

“To put it less delicately.”

She pulled her hand from his chest, and he wanted to reach out to put it back; feel that heat through his shirt again. But he didn’t. He let her gently touch the bruises around her throat and wanted nothing more than to storm back down to the presidential suite and strangle Ra’s al Ghul. No—he wanted more than that. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to make sure she was okay. He wanted to make sure that she knew she was safe with him. But he couldn’t do any of those things. He just couldn’t.

A crude thought appeared in his mind, one that he couldn’t get a handle on before it slipped out of his mouth.

“Do you…?”

“No.” Delphia looked up at him through hooded eyes. “He’s never really cared for my pleasure, and last night only reminded me.”

I would make you feel good, Rick thought to himself as his hands twitched at his sides, a silent plea to reach out and touch her. He would make her feel so good. He would make sure she finished, twice at the least. Because that’s what she deserved.

God, she could probably see all these sinful thoughts passing through his brain. See it in the bob of his throat, the twitch of his hands, the darkening of his eyes. He didn’t want to think them, tried to beat them down and shove them into a corner where he could go back to being professional. But it was all out now. The tiger of his desire was free, and he really didn’t know if he wanted to push it back in its cage. For a moment—just a moment—he could pretend that this was their moment. That this was it. They were just two people caught in a stairwell, ready to show each other their cards.

Delphia didn’t stop him as his feet carried him closer, standing chest-to-chest. Maybe because deep down, she knew he would treat her right. But then she put a hand to his chest, her broken lip caught between her teeth.

“Don’t get familiar, Colonel.”

They walked back in silence to the room where Blackguard was most likely still sleeping. They were no longer two people who met in some club and danced; no longer those people caught in a moment of uncertainty in a stairwell. They were Rick Flag and Delphia Holman once more; the commanding officer and the criminal under his charge.

To Rick’s surprise, Blackguard was sitting at the end of his bed, fully dressed. He looked excited and unsurprised by Delphia’s bruised state when they walked into the room.

“Did you get it?” he asked.

Delphia pulled her clutch from under her arm and out of it she pulled a stone disk. She flipped it over in her hand once before she tossed it to Blackguard, who caught it with ease.

“Waller’s got transport incoming—Ghul’s gonna wake up soon enough and realize his key is missing, so we gotta move fast,” Rick said.

“Er — guys?” Blackguard spoke up unsurely.

“What?”

He held up the key with a worried expression pinching his face. “This says ‘Made in China' on the back.”

“Are you fucking shitting me?” Delphia screeched as she snatched the disk out of Blackguard’s hands. She inspected it for a moment before looking up at Rick with wide, terrified eyes. “It’s fucking fake.”

“Well, shit.”

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