#it took her months of an intensive skin care routine but she is finally satisfied and back to clear face kenya

[pxlheaux]

We would like to formally invite you to our wedding day. Please RSVP if you’ll be coming, and we hope to see you there. 

With love,

Kane and Kenya.

[svnflowervol666]

I was wondering if you could write something where Harry’s wife tells him she doesn’t want him in the delivery room when she gives birth. She figures having maybe Gemma or Anne with her. She comes from a family of women, so she just doesn’t think she needs him. Harry’s left torn between agreeing with her because it’s her choice and absolutely broken up over it, because he wants to witness his first child come into the world. In the end she chooses to have him by her side. 🌻💛🌻

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: THANK YOU for this dad!Harry request!! It is quite apparent that I can ramble about dad!Harry for ages, so if anyone has anything dad!Harry they’d like to discuss, my inbox is open and I will give it my all! Enjoy! Take care and tpwk.

Harry found her by the pool, her already glowing body veiled by a thin layer of sweat. Her sun-kissed legs were crossed one another, body completely bare sans the skimpy swimsuit that she only wore at home due to her current situation. She was nearly 7 months pregnant with hers and Harry’s first child, having gotten to the point where even the thought of leaving the house exhausted her. Knowing this, it made sense to Harry as to why he found her in such an unusual place when he came home from his workout at the gym. She’d always claimed that the hated the oversized pool that took up room for a potential garden in the backyard of their home, so she was rarely seen dipping her toes in the cool, blue water. Harry supposed her cabin fever had gotten the best of her and she’d had to find new ways to entertain herself whilst they both waited anxiously for their baby to arrive.

He could see her through the large, glass windows that faced the backyard, her cell phone perched in one hand while she rubbed absent-minded circles around her swollen bump with the other. Sounds of her sweet, cherubic laugh trailed in through the cracks of the french doors, immediately warming Harry’s chest and causing him to smile in a way that showed off his cavernous dimples. This pregnancy had brought a lot of emotional turmoil in terms of the way her hormones would render her depressed and misanthropic for weeks at a time in some cases, then bouncy and cheery the next as if nothing had been wrong. Harry supposed today had been one of those good days.

It came as second nature to him to make a double batch of the smoothie he routinely drank after he exercised. He’d found out early on in her pregnancy that she’d always try to sneak sips of the sweet, fruity blend due to her new cravings, so he’d eventually just started making two drinks each time to satisfy them both. As he juggled the two glasses in his large, ringed hands, he slid open the door with the full intention of joining her in her sunbathing escapades to cool down after his intensive workout. Maybe he’d even convince her to stick her feet over the edge while he swam a few laps around her. That was until he’d caught the tail-end of the sentence that she’d muttered to whoever was on the other end of her phone line.

“…I was just thinking maybe you or Anne in the room during the delivery, and then Harry can come in and see the baby right after.”

Harry felt his heart sink into his arse at what he’d overheard, almost in disbelief at what he’d just heard her say. Surely, he’d missed a key part of this conversation and the tidbit he’d just stumbled upon was not her saying that she didn’t want Harry by her side when she gave birth to their first child. They’d never discussed it, but he’d always been under the assumption that he’d be right there next to her, holding her hand as their son or daughter made their appearance into the world. However, Harry couldn’t shake the feeling like that was exactly what she had just said.

“Yeah, totally. And then- Oh! Hi, Harry!” She stopped mid-sentence and perked up upon realizing her husband was home.

Harry smiles cheesily back at her, though there was a hint of disappointment in his expression. She was too entranced in her conversation to notice.

“Brought ye’ a smoothie,” Harry raised the glass towards his face to show off the perspiring glass of blended fruit and protein powder.

She wiggles her toes in excitement, the shiny lilac polish gleaming in the sunlight. Harry had painted them for her last week, her having been too far along in her pregnancy to reach her own toes. He always did little things like this for her so she could feel beautiful no matter how atrocious she was convinced she looked in her state. If it were up to Harry, he’d keep her like this for as long as possible; he had fallen in love with her ten times over since she’d been pregnant. 

“Thank you, lovie. Gemma’s on the line. She says hi. And also that she’s still your mum’s favorite,” she said to Harry as she pulled the phone slightly away from her ear.

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at his older sister’s immature banter as he sat the smoothie down next to his wife and leaned down to press a kiss to her damp hair.

He spoke clearly into the speaker so that Gemma was certain to hear him, “Just wait until the baby gets here. Then mum won’t give a shit about either of us.”

Harry didn’t hear Gemma’s snarky response, but he did hear her laugh loudly on the other end mixed with his wife’s own sweet giggles. He gave her bump a few pats with his hand that was cold from holding the glass and silently gestured to her that he was headed back inside. What he had overheard on the phone had killed his desire to lounge in the pool with his wife. He needed to be alone, whether it was to come up with a way to convince her otherwise or simply sulk about in his misery. His wife blew him a kiss which he subsequently pretended to catch and stuff in his hoddie pocket before ducking back into the house.

Whilst Harry was washing off in the shower, his mind was racing. Did she really not want him in the delivery room with her? It was his child, for christ’s sake! Of course he wanted to be there, more than anything, to be there when their baby took their first breaths, when they came out covered in goo and kicking and screaming. All Harry had ever wanted was a family to call his own, and now that it was within arm’s reach, he wanted to experience it all. 

Of course, she was going to be the one quite literally pushing a life force out of her body, therefore Harry had no say in the matter. At the end of the day, even if his future efforts to convince her otherwise were unsuccessful, it was her choice and Harry would have to respect that. It just struck him right through his core to think that his own wife didn’t want him there beside her as she gave birth. 

Amidst his racing thoughts, he’d lost track of time. The water had since run lukewarm, but he didn’t realize this until he heard the creak of the steamy shower door open and saw his pregnant wife step inside, still dressed in the skimpy swimsuit that she wore when she didn’t want any tan lines.

“Stealing all of the hot water now, aren’t you?” she teased as she stripped herself of the sopping wet material, then tossed it halfhazardly into the corner of the large, stand-in shower.

Harry mumbled a quiet, “Sorry,” before stepping out of the way of the faucet to let her rinse off.

“‘S alright. I’m still pretty warm from being outside,” she reassured him as she worked shampoo through her dripping locks, “Everything alright?” 

“Ye’, why wouldn’t it be?” Harry answered his wife’s question, though he knew that wasn’t the truth and he couldn’t hold eye contact with her so he opted to watch as the soap suds ran from her scalp and down around her belly.

“Just seem kinda off is all,” she dismissed her quandaries and reached for the conditioner.

“‘M fine,” Harry lied again, “Wha’ were ye’ talkin’ to Gem about?”

“Oh, just baby stuff. She wanted to know if we’d decided on a theme for the nursery yet so she could start buying us gifts and then we just ended up talking for a while.”

Harry nodded silently as he worked a foaming cleanser into his skin, waiting until she was done rinsing her hair to take his turn back under the running water. He could say something, he really could. He knew that he should, because communication was key and he needed to be prepared for the heartbreak he’d experience when she told him that she didn’t want him in the delivery room with her. But he was nervous, scared almost. It was as if he actually didn’t want to know how she felt and would rather just forget the whole thing happened. However, now was not the time to be cowardly. This was his child and if he wasn’t willing to talk openly with his wife about how they’d approach the situation, maybe he wasn’t really ready to be a father after all.

“Did I overhear you tellin’ Gemma you don’t want me in the delivery room with ye’?”

She stopped running the silky soap through the ends of her hair to look at Harry directly.

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you say somethin’ about mum bein’ in the delivery room with ye’ and then me comin’ in right after. Do ye’ not want me in there?”

Harry’s voice sounded trembled as if he didn’t want to hear her answer his question. She finally picked up on his trepidation, and the look on her face was one of confusion.

“Harry I…I didn’t say that,” she was merely at a loss for words.

“Ye’ kinda did. Heard ye’ say it,” Harry snided. 

“I didn’t say I didn’t want you in the room, Harry. My family’s always had only the girls in the delivery room. I just figured I’d do the same. Plus, I didn’t know you even wanted to be there.”

“Of course I want to be there,” Harry stressed, “‘s my baby for cryin’ out loud.”

Right then, she felt an intense flutter in her abdomen that caused her to cup her bump with her arm. This baby sure did love the sound of their father’s voice. Nothing was said between them, only awkward, unbearable silence. The water suddenly felt ice cold, raising chillbumps all up and down her arms and legs. Was Harry mad at her? She didn’t know. There was no malice with her intentions to give birth to their child without Harry in the delivery room, she genuinely hadn’t thought twice about it; it’s how she had been raised to believe how a woman should give birth, with strong women by their side. He was looking at her with glassy eyes like she had utterly broken him and caused irrepairable damage and it made her heart feel heavier than the weight of her baby bump that killed her lower back.

“I didn’t know, Harry,” she whispered, barely audible over the hissing of the faucet.

“Kinda common sense, now, innit? ‘S fine. ‘S your body.”

Harry quickly rid himself of any soap residue and left his wife alone in the ice cold shower before she could say another word. He left her the fluffier, more comfortable towel that he’d chosen for himself, because that’s just who he is.

//

He avoided her for the rest of the evening. He shut himself in his office for the better part of nearly three hours, hoping to turn his feelings into art and potentionally crank out a verse or two. The thoughts buzzing in his head were far too loud to concentrate on any chord or key, so he turned to answering emails, still not coming out of the room to resolve the argument he’d had with his wife in the shower. He wasn’t even sure what to say, or if there was anything to say at all.

She’d done the same, cooping herself up in their bedroom and taking a nap instead of finding Harry and demanding that they squash this immediately. She was so startled over the entire thing, having been bombarded with more information than she could handle. It hurt her to know that she’d hurt Harry, but at the same time she believed she hadn’t done anything wrong. This was clearly miscommunication on the most basic level, though it didn’t make her feel any better having realized that. Uneasiness settled deep into her bones as she drifted off into a light, relaxing slumber.

//

Harry tossed the garlic around in the pan with a wooden spoon blindly, only cooking to fill his stomach and not to enjoy it. It was her favorite meal, so he’d figured she’d enjoy the leftovers, at least. His mind kept drifting off to two months down the road, when his baby would be arriving in the sterile, chilly delivery room whilst he, on the other hand, wouldn’t be there to see it.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt two arms wrap around his middle and a protruding bump poke him in the small of his back.

“‘M sorry,” her voice sounded muffled from where she was talking into his shirt.

Harry reduced the heat on the stove and turned around in her grasp to face her. He took her head in both of his hands, forcing her to look at him when she spoke. 

“‘S okay. It’s your choice. I didn’t mean t’ upset ye’.”

“No, H. It’s not okay,” she couldn’t stop the hormonal tears from pooling in her eyes and running down her cheeks that were still warm from the nap she’d taken, “I should have asked you what you wanted. It’s your baby too. I just wasn’t thinking. I don’t you to be mad at me.”

Harry wiped her tears away with the pads of his thumbs, hating to see her cry like this.

“I’m not mad at ye’, love. Just caught me off guard. I’m fine now. I’ll wait outside the delivery room if that’s what ye’ want.”

He really hoped that wasn’t what she wanted, but he knew it was the right thing to do. After a long pause of her collecting her breath and nuzzling into Harry’s soothing touch, she found her words once more.

“It’s not what I want. I want you there. Beside me. Holding my hand when our baby gets here.”

This time it was Harry that started to cry, though he didn’t let her see the salty tears fall becaues he burried his head into the crook of her neck and held her in the dimly lit kitchen they stood in. All she could hear were his sniffles and his rapidly beating heart through is chest.

“I love you,” Harry mumbled into her neck, tickling her sensitive skin.

“I love you, too. So fucking much, Harry,” she gave his abdomen a tight embrace before pulling back. 

“But promise me you’ll still want me after you see the baby come out of me. I’ve seen it before and it is not pretty.”

Harry choked on his remaining tears as a laugh roared through his chest. He wiped the wetness from his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“’M only gonna want ye’ more after that. Promise,” Harry then raised his left pinky towards her in sincerity, the wedding band on his ring glimmering in the stovetop light.

[itscalledbisexualcrisis]

Scrap Metal - Chapter 6

Summary: Hiro broke off her engagement to Kuvira three years ago and left Zaofu. All she wants is to live her quiet life in Republic City, away from her haunting past. Kuvira's catching up to her, but is she going to find what she's looking for? Or is she only going to reveal the secrets Hiro kept hidden from her all these years?

Read on AO3

“We have been informed that there are dissenters in the western city of Omashu. They are requesting assistance to take down the rebels,” relays the scout. Kuvira is leaning on the table, flipping through the detailed report in front of her. Omashu had been one of the later acquired cities. She found them to be quite irritating to negotiate with and spent many months going back and forth with the old king about their treaty. It was easy to assume that rebel groups would pop up within it.

“We can send Commander Guan, he’s the closest in proximity and has the troops to take care of any dissenters,” Baatar suggests. “It’s about time we reel in Omashu, once and for all. Who better than our Southern Commander?”

Kuvira continues reading the report, letting the rest of her inner circle pipe up with suggestions and requests. Even though it does make sense for Commander Guan to go, due to the location of Omashu, it was hard keeping a stronghold of the mountainous city. They needed a consistent leader for the mountainous region in general. Especially since their plan to take Republic City was fast approaching, Kuvira needed to be at headquarters focusing on the Spirit Canon and Colossal. Her eyes scan across the table, eyeing her inner circle carefully.

She limited the amount of people allowed in her highest ranks. Various men and women of the sergeant and commanding rank sat around the circular table, all capable and willing to fight for their country. She needed someone unrelenting and dominant to maintain balance in the mountains. Most of all someone who she trusted, and the list was few and far between.

“Well, from previous reports, Commander Guan is already struggling to hold together the South East and coastal regions. Do you think it’d be wise for him to take on a new battle when he’s in the middle of one?” Kuvira turns her attention to a voice with sharpness that cuts through the room’s ardent dialogue. Sergeant Anjij was one of Kuvira’s oldest friends from Zaofu who joined her when she first began uniting the nation. She was a talented water bender, a rarity for the Metal Clan, but nonetheless accepted for her talent. She was an expert in combat and one of the front line soldiers during the first siege on Ba Sing Se. Her thick dark hair was held back in a high ponytail and eyes a dark sea foam color. She was known for being a serious no-nonsense woman by her colleagues, a quality Kuvira admired. “We cannot possibly let him leave the Southern coast unguarded.”

“I agree,” Kuvira speaks up finally. Any conversation left was shut down immediately. She turns her head slightly to face the woman. “Commander Guan is occupied with the coastal regions. We need to maintain order within the entire empire. Which is why it is important we have trusted leaders to ensure that the empire is united. Sergeant Anjij, how would you like to be the new Commander for the Southern Mountainous region?” It was an on the spot decision by Kuvira, but seeing Anjij’s cocky smirk only reassured her of her choice.

“It would be an honor, Kuvira.”

“It’s settled then. We will head to Omashu tomorrow afternoon,” Kuvira instructs, standing from her seat to regard the rest of the room. She turns to Baatar sitting directly to her left. “Send word to Commander Guan to send a small battalion to meet us there. We will be taking a few rations with us for Omashu. Bringing in supplies will be better for negotiations and to reassure the people that we are not their enemy. Baatar, I want you to keep working on the Spirit Canon. I expect you to have it done by the time I come back.”

“Yes, Kuvira.”

“With that, this meeting is adjourned.”

---

“Oh thank Spirits!” Hiro threw her arms around Kuvira, not even getting a chance for the woman to take off her helmet. She inhaled the scent of metal and filth, taking in her lover for the first time in what felt like the longest week of her life. All week she’d been sitting near the control center, awaiting news on a mission from Suyin and the Metal Clan Guards to rescue the Air Nomads. This wasn’t something that happened often, but the few times Suyin took the special task force outside the domes was always a big mission. Especially ones that involve the Avatar. Kuvira usually went on these missions and even though Hiro should be used to it, she wasn’t. It didn’t make her feel any more reassured that they would be facing the Red Lotus again. She still gets shivers thinking about their attempt to kidnap Avatar Korra in Zaofu. 

Kuvira smiled and stroked Hiro’s back, hands gripping on to the material of the shirt. She exhaled and made sure to squeeze Hiro a little tighter. The smell of clean laundry and lavender shampoo filled her senses and she could rest easy now, taking in the heavenly scent of her fiance. 

“I’ve missed you too, darling,” Kuvira muttered with her face buried into Hiro’s hair. She could tell that Kuvira was exhausted. They had just stepped off the airship, most of the other guards visibly wounded. She spotted Anjij limping out of the ship with a fellow guard towards the infirmary. Hiro cupped Kuvira’s face and started to examine it for any noticeable damages. It made Kuvira chuckle at the silly face her fiance was making. “Are you broken? I don’t want to send this one back for a refund because of brain damage.”

Kuvira swats Hiro’s hands away, but it only seems to make Hiro even more clingy, draping her arms comfortably around her neck. The reassurance she got back were calloused hands caressing circles on to her hips.

“I’m fine, no brain damage,” she teased. Humor danced behind the irritation in her eyes. After hours of being stranded in the mountains, all Kuvira wanted was a bath and a long sleep with her lover.

“What happened out there?” Hiro’s eyes glaze across the rest of the injured team. “Everyone looks shaken.”

“The Red Lotus were difficult opponents, but the mission was a success: Avatar Korra and the Air Nomads are safe, and the Red Lotus has been apprehended,” Kuvira reported.

“No bruises or new scars for you?” Hiro asked. She wanted to try to keep the air light between them, but her concern showed through brightly. It made Kuvira feel proud, in a way. It was the way Hiro was so openly worried about her that made her want to tuck woman away in her arms, away from all of the dangers in the world. When she was in the mountains with no real indication of when Suyin would return for them, Hiro didn’t leave her thoughts. There was no doubt in Kuvira’s mind that Suyin would come back, but the slight possibility of losing to the Red Lotus also came up. She vowed that she would make it out and return to Hiro just as she promised. Even when she saw the flying bison coming over the tops of the snow capped mountains, she still wasn’t satisfied until she saw the Zaofu domes come up from the horizon. It was only when she had Hiro back in her arms, did Kuvira feel that her mission had been complete. 

“A couple of bruises, sore muscles,” she said offhandedly. “My shoulder in particular. I had to catch and heave a grown man from falling off the side of a cliff, but it’s nothing compared to the injuries everyone else sustained.” The thought of Kuvira carrying the weight of a man twice her size made Hiro blush and her jaw drop. Sometimes she forgot how strong Kuvira was and how intense those gentle green eyes could be.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Hiro wanted to laugh, but could only muster a smile. This week had been very difficult and upon seeing everyone else’s current roughed up state, she didn’t let her guard down when Kuvira said she wasn’t injured. She definitely will be looking into that shoulder later.

Hiro held her face, this time gentler. Kuvira let a quiet moan escape her lips as she let her head be cradled. Hiro thought the tired pout on her lips and scrunch of skin between her eyebrows made Kuvira look unusually vulnerable. It must’ve taken a lot out of her for her to be sharing such a tender look with her in such a public area. It wasn’t easy for Kuvira to communicate her emotions, and Hiro never pushed her to do more than what she was comfortable with. At most, Hiro could get a short squeeze of her hand letting her know that she was okay or a hug that meant she just needed something to ground her. But it seemed that at the end of the day, her strong Captain was still a human who craved affection. And she was so honored to have the privilege to take care of such a powerful and beautiful woman.

She left a careful kiss on her lips before pulling her to go home, promising to draw a hot bath and warm spicy curry for dinner. 

---

Hiro tapped the pencil on the table as she looked over her notes again. Zhu Li gently set the cup next to her. 

The two of them had been pretty silent this morning, going about an easy routine with an ease they’ve created. Hiro spreads out the notes on the table to be examined. Truly she was getting down to having nothing left to share. She had drawn up an updated map of the city. Due to the renovations, some streets were shut off and new buildings erected in previous vacant lots. Most of it was resource centers for impoverished citizens amongst other government buildings. There was a network of phone wires that had been cleaned up to maximize contact for the police force radio communications. A more linear pipeline system replaced old lines that appeared to not have been changed since their existence. It was all in actuality mostly maintenance stuff, and if any of it could be of use to the Empire, she had no idea what for.

“You ever thought about working in urban development Zhu Li?” Hiro asked offhandedly. She was seated at the table with her feet kicked up on the metal surface and leaning on the back two legs of her chair. Zhu Li set down the teapot and quietly examined the new documents handed to her.

“No ma'am.”

Zhu Li was a quiet woman. She limited most of what she said to short questions and nods. Hiro didn’t mind her, but she noticed with the addition of Zhu Li that Kuvira wasn’t coming around anymore. It definitely made things harder for her because how could she take down the Great Uniter if she can’t even see her. As much as Hiro wanted to ask Zhu Li, she kept the small woman at arms length. It was too soon to let down her guard and start asking her questions about Kuvira. She needed to feel out the situation before making her next move.

Hiro realized soon after Zhu Li’s appearance as her ‘assistant’, that the air changed around the maglev. The guards watching over her were more lax, probably because they realized the Great Uniter wouldn’t be paying them as frequent visits. Occasionally Zhu Li would leave and deliver the completed workbooks to an unknown receiver.

This was disadvantageous. She needed to get Kuvira’s attention. She was running out of time before they deemed her as unusable and sent her off to a reeducation camp. I mean, she used to know what would get Kuvira’s attention back at Zaofu. The thought was quickly erased from Hiro’s mind and she let out a small cough. Zhu Li glanced up briefly in suspicion.

Honestly, the thought did cross her mind to potentially seduce the Great Uniter, but even she had to laugh at that idea. She hadn’t forgotten about the interaction she witnessed between Baatar and Kuvira the other night, but ever since then she hasn’t seen either of them. This isn’t working. She needed to think of something else. Hiro gnawed on the inside of her cheek, looking at the map of Republic City in front of her. I won’t run away again. But I can’t do this alone-

“This is quite the setup you have here.” Hiro turned her head to see a familiar dark haired woman coming down the steps. “It’s been a long time, stranger.”

“Anjij? I didn’t realize you were here.” Before all of the nonsense with the Earth Empire and Kuvira taking control, Anjij had been one of the few people Kuvira considered a friend. It wasn’t atypical for Hiro to find them engaged in a thoughtful conversation while waiting at the transport station or grabbing a casual lunch on their break together. When Hiro was stationed in Ba Sing Se, Anjij was occupied on the front lines and Hiro only saw her in quick glimpses and at meetings. Now it was clear that Anjij was doing very well for herself. Even after years apart, Hiro still remembered the higher pitch and smooth melody in the way she spoke.

Anjij definitely broke enough hearts in her life and will definitely break more. There was an intimidating aura to this woman and it certainly attracted people. This harsh demeanor was accentuated greatly with her crisp Earth Empire uniform and sly smile.

“Well not for much longer. Kuvira and I are headed to Omashu tomorrow,” Anjij explained. She looked around at all of the scattered maps and diagrams. “Looks like the same old Hiro. Tell me, are you still a pro Pai Sho player?” Hiro smiled slightly. Although it was comforting having someone so friendly and familiar, she still felt out of place. Afterall, the armbands indicated on Anjij’s armband had moved up to be a Commander now.

“I’m a little rusty,” she admitted. Zhu Li was silently setting up an additional teacup, but Hiro couldn’t help but feel that the other set of ears was taking in this interaction carefully.

Honestly Zhu Li was very hard to read. When she first started coming a few days ago, Hiro was very cautious. They talked minimally, only when Hiro showed her what she had written down or drawn up. If Zhu Li asked a question or implored Hiro to explain further, it felt like a business transaction. She gave no indication of her personal opinions or thoughts about what Hiro was sharing to aide in Kuvira’s empire. As someone quite reserved herself, Hiro knew better than to underestimate her. “You said you were headed to Omashu?”

“Correct. Have to whip those mountaineers into shape, you know?” Anjij chuckled at her own light heartedness and Hiro tried to match it. “Your name came up in today’s meeting. I wanted to see for myself, Hiro Zhao, returned in the flesh.”

Hiro tried to keep the surprise from her face.

“Well, in case you don’t know, this isn’t a willing return.” Anjij raised an eyebrow. “From the looks of it, you’re anything but a prisoner right now.” Anjij glanced over at Zhu Li placing the delicate teacup on Hiro’s desk. “But, regardless of the reason, I’m glad I got to see you.”

Hiro’s face faltered. Hiro wanted to reciprocate Anjij’s honest admission, but she couldn’t let their current standings overcome that. In the end, Anjij was a Commander for her enemy that kept her prisoner. And the reality was also that they were no longer young women in Zaofu inviting one another over for dinner or sparring together. 

“You too, Anjij.” Anjij’s gaze shifted as she carefully took in Hiro’s tense expression. She lifted a hand to gently rest it on her shoulder, and Hiro had to resist wincing. She had been touch starved this past week, mainly keeping to herself and shying away from guards when they escort her to her room. She would be lying to herself if the little human contact didn’t comfort her. If Anjij noticed any of this, she didn’t show it.

“Let me know if you need anything. I’m your friend, Hiro, prisoner or not, and I mean that.”

Hiro wanted to believe her. She wanted to believe Anjij when she shot her a determined look of comfort. She wanted to trust Zhu Li as a possible ally to her mission. She wanted to believe that she had someone on this damned maglev to help her. But no matter what Anjij said, she had no one.

---

Most nights Kuvira ate alone. She always opted to eat alone in her office so she can work simultaneously. It was efficient and productive on her part. Sometimes Baatar would join her, but with his dedication to the Spirit Canon, he would be in the lab all night. So when she heard a knock on the door she was surprised.

“Kuvira, mind some company?” Anjij asked through the door. Kuvira called for her to enter. Anjij walked in confidently and shut the door behind her. “I don’t mean to intrude, but there are a few more things I want to go over before we leave tomorrow.”

Kuvira nodded, putting down her current work and giving Anjij her full attention. The taller woman took a seat at the chair facing her desk. 

“The dissenters seem to come from civilians, mostly destroying incoming Earth Empire rations and supply lines,” Anjij reported. “We should be safe passing through on our own as no one will be expecting our arrival. We have suspicions as to the exact perpetrators, but if you ask me, I think the previous king and his council are calling the shots.”

“As far as we know, they’ve been complicit in their surrender of Omashu,” Kuvira answered back. “But you’re correct, they’ve given us the most resistance since their acquisition. We must approach this with discipline. No one is above my mercy. Not even a former king and his court.”

They continued like this, exchanging knowledge and strategies to finding the dissenters to crush their uprising. It was easy to get people to do what you want, it was harder to keep them in line once you had them. If anyone were capable enough to be her commander, Anjij had shown her worth.

As they wrapped up their conversation, Anjij shifted as if weighing her next statement.

“Before I leave, I wanted to mention...I saw Hiro today. She seems off .”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing obvious! I know from today’s meeting she was regarded as a recaptured Earth Kingdom citizen seeking redemption, but don’t you think that’s a bit brash?” Anjij asked. She quickly followed up upon seeing Kuvira’s gaze harden. “With all due respect of course! I am not trying to question your course of action, but have you thought of a smoother way to transition her to the Empire?”

Kuvira eyed her commander carefully.

“Continue,” she demanded. She saw Anjij’s shoulders relax as she patiently waited.

“Well I was thinking, if you made her a corporal and gave her more leniency, she might be more willing to be of service to the Empire.”

Kuvira scoffed. “I didn’t take you to being so keen to Hiro before? What, an afternoon rekindling old memories made you soft?”

Anjij didn’t react.

“She doesn’t have to know that she’s still being closely watched,” Anjij calculated. A growing smirk danced on her lips. It was one Kuvira was familiar with. It brought her back to days in the Metal Clan. It mirrored the look of success and satisfaction every time Anjij would get the upper hand in sparring matches. Their subtle rivalry was what drove them to excel in their field. As time went, Kuvira turned out to be the stronger opponent, but she never forgot that when she saw that smirk appear, there was a deceptive move coming next. “The false comfort to do what she’s good at, will make her let down her guard. Meanwhile, we keep a close eye on her, make sure she doesn’t slip up. And when she inevitably does, we let her think she has the control-”

“When in reality, she’ll play right into our cards,” Kuvira finished. Her calculating gaze never wavered from Anjij. Her blue eyes were piercing with deceit and Kuvira could see how she was enjoying the idea of this. “What do you mean we?”

She shrugged.

“A first step could be bringing her with us to Omashu. Keep a close eye on her and away from the rest of the troops. The more you let her open up to you and see the work of the Earth Empire helping people, the more she’ll be inclined to help us,” Anjij said simply as if it was the easiest thing in the world. She leaned back comfortably in the chair across from Kuvira. “C’mon Ku, this is Hiro we’re talking about. She’s practically a genius with her technology and can learn any new skill like it’s nothing, but what she doesn’t have is a backbone or awareness.”

Kuvira clenched her fists on the table.

“Fine. You’ve made your points. She will be joining us on our mission to Omashu,” Kuvira concluded. Anjij nodded with the cocky smirk still on her face and got up to leave. “But Commander, I do need you to keep your guard up. Like you say, she’s a genius. We cannot let ourselves be underestimated by her.”

Kuvira didn’t like how her words came out like she was defending Hiro rather than warning Anjij.

“Of course, Kuvira.” The words were empty and it was clear Anjij didn’t see Hiro as a threat. She left Kuvira to eat her now cold meal.

“Commander,” Kuvira piped up, stopping Anjij as the door was halfway shut. “This was your idea. So if anything is to go wrong, I am holding you accountable.” Anjij studied Kuvira carefully once over before nodding once and leaving Kuvira with her thoughts.

The thought of manipulating Hiro into the guise of comfort had crossed Kuvira’s mind. And Anjij was right, Hiro isn’t aware enough of her surroundings to judge twice. But something in her gut told her it wasn’t a good idea to play this game. If she were to do this, Hiro would be moved up the ranks and would be working a lot closer with Kuvira, something she just told Baatar she would be doing the opposite of.

The more she thought about it though, she didn’t mind having Hiro around her. As annoying as she was, she was useful. And that’s what mattered. She was useful.

---

“Have you been to Omashu before?” Anjij asked.

“Never,” Hiro answered. She stole a glance from the Pai Sho game in front of her to look out the window of the maglev. A thick fog coated the outside as they traveled to a higher altitude and through the mountain range. She was never a fan of heights, but what made her more uncomfortable was sitting at the meeting table with Anjij across from her and Kuvira to her left, examining documents. Kuvira had been studying them as soon as she stepped in the room, not even acknowledging Hiro’s presence or the fact that they were playing a Pai Sho game in what was supposed to be the meeting room. Anjij called her in for a friendly game and a debrief of their current mission.

“We’re providing extra aid to the people of Omashu. Due to their location, it’s hard to get supplies out there so we try to deliver big bouches at a time,” Anjij explained, moving another piece of the game. “We’ll be here for about a day or so, but I’ll be staying behind to make sure the rations are properly distributed.”

Hiro anxiously glanced over at Kuvira for any reaction or addition, but the woman seemed very engrossed in the designs she was looking at. If Hiro had a better angle she could see what had all of Kuvira’s attention. Quickly she drew her eyes back forward and Anjij was giving her a kind smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Hiro moved a piece in the game, not thinking much of it.

“And that's the game,” Anjij boasted. With her final piece moved, Anjij had successfully completed her Pai Sho board. Hiro folded her hands on her lap, accepting her defeat.

“I told you I was rusty,” she shyly admitted. “It’s been a while since I’ve played an actual game.”

“No one in the big city plays Pai Sho?” Anjij questioned.

“Not really, not like how we played in Zaofu. Most people played fast Pai Sho,” she explained. Asami was the only people she knew in Republic City who still played the traditional form of Pai Sho with slow methodical moves. It had been a while since Hiro played against someone new.

Anjij stole a glance at Kuvira before getting up.

“I’m going to check on the conductor and the other guards. We should be arriving within the next hour. Zhu Li, if you will come with me please, I’d love for you to make more of that jasmine tea,” Anjij flirted. Kuvira resisted rolling her eyes and a clipped warning. Zhu Li simply nodded and followed. Anjij, a flirt as always , Hiro thought.

It left Hiro and Kuvira in an awkward train car alone with cold porridge and documents stacked on the table. Hiro started packing up the Pai Sho game, letting her thoughts take her away from this maglev. As this was only one of the few train cars taken for their mission, it was very quiet. This was the first time she’s seen Kuvira in almost a week. It was almost unnerving how stoic the woman was.

“Do you still play?” The question stuttered out hung in the air, but Hiro couldn’t back out now that the words were already spoken.

“Are you asking for a game?” Kuvira asked carefully. She glanced down at the neatly set up Pai Sho board in front of her. Hiro shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and took a big gulp of the scorching tea to calm her nerves. She was surprised when Kuvira set the papers down and moved to sit across from her in Anjij’s previous seat. Hiro noticed how she placed them face down so she wouldn’t be able to sneak a glance at what she was looking at. “I’ll go first.”

The first few moves were done in silence. Hiro tries to focus on the game and not how this game brought back nostalgia. They’ve played plenty of Pai Sho games in the past, and Hiro knew Kuvira's strategies. Even though it was just a game, something told her that she had to win this one. So she maneuvered her pieces with deft and purpose, different from how she played with Anjij.

“Why did you let Anjij win?” The question caught her off guard and Hiro hesitated while picking up her next piece.

“What do you mean?” She placed the tile down, realizing now that Kuvira was already going in for an attack strategy to win. 

“You had her cornered for most of the game. All of a sudden it was like you stopped playing,” Kuvira observed, moving her tile to another space. “So tell me, why would you let her have the upper hand? Most of all, why make her think she got it in the first place?”

Hiro wasn’t surprised by Kuvira’s observation. In fact she knew the whole time that even though the other woman was engrossed with paperwork, she was acutely aware of her surroundings. Nothing could get past Kuvira...which is exactly what Hiro wanted. Her lip quirked up in a half smile.

“Still being very attentive of me, I see. I’m flattered,” she taunted. Her eyes conveyed that she knew what kind of dangerous game she was playing alongside the Pai Sho game. She smoothly transitioned her next piece over by the one Kuvira just moved. “Anjij was always a challenging player. She moved her pieces seemingly sporadically without thought, when in reality she’s trying to out maneuver her opponent as quick as she can, that way she can finish her board. If you play against her the way she wants you to, she won’t even realize you’re the one winning. Pai Sho when played quickly can be fun and exciting and Anjij has found a way to mix the two.

But I’d argue that careful and thoughtful movements with purpose allows you to see your opponent clearly than going fast can. I could’ve slowed Anjij’s gameplay down and ended it sooner, but she’s the type of woman who likes the thrill of the game.

And once she’s won, she’ll utilize the same strategy until she realizes too late that she’s used up all of her cards and tricks… and you as her opponent have bested her at everything she can give.”

Hiro had been studying Kuvira’s body movements this whole time as the woman played with the piece in her hand, eyes drifting up to meet Hiro’s in what looked like surprise. Hiro bit the inside of her cheek as her face broke out in a smile and crossed her arms.

“I believe it is your move.”

While speaking, Kuvira didn’t even notice that Hiro had successfully cornered her, one move away from winning.

---

Kuvira narrowed her eyes. Her keen ears perked up and she turned her head from the game abruptly to the windows. She squints, no longer paying attention to Hiro. Somewhere within the fog, a shadow moved. It was swift and if anyone else had seen it they would’ve waved it off as a mirage. But Kuvira knew better. She knew to trust her own instincts.

Without another thought, she gets up and grabs on to Hiro’s arm, pulling the other woman up with her. Some of the Pai Sho pieces jerked across the table, messing up their almost completed game.

“H-Hey!” Hiro stuttered, surprised at the sudden jerking movement.

Kuvira shoved Hiro to the floor with her falling on top. Soon after, the window that was previously next to them exploded in a flurry of shards and the train car lurched. Hiro gasped, her next words choked in shock. Kuvira felt the rest of the metal churn and jerk as the rest of the windows blew out in the left side of the car. It’s when she feels the train rocking to the side that she feels panic bubble up. But Kuvira wasn’t paying attention to that; not the way her body was being thrown around or the ringing she felt in her ears. 

Kuvira closes her eyes and lets her senses take over on the metal around her. That’s her default, she centers on what feels familiar and how she can regain control. Her awareness focused on the metal lining of the train, the plates of metal on the floor, the armor attached to her body. It felt like time slowed down as the train tipped over the edge. Hiro’s screams were only vaguely in the background of the ringing of metal hitting metal and the creaking of the maglev as it tipped over the mountainside, completely detaching from the tracks.

“Hold on.” She felt two arms wrap around her shoulders tightly and bury her face into Kuvira’s collarbone. The car tipped on its side and the rest of the windows shattered underneath them. By now the once pristine meeting room was trashed as furniture, documents, and weapons were tousled to the side of the train. Hiro grunted as they tipped alongside with it, their bodies crashing into a nearby table as the train began sliding off the mountain. Kuvira opened her eyes and inspected the shattered window now above them. The train began skidding down the mountain and slowly building momentum, tumbling further into unknown depths.

I have one shot. One move. Only one split second to get this right.

Fluidly, her arm shot out and with it a thin metal cable attached to her belt. The end of it escaped into the white abyss of the train car empty window. It all depended on the angle, the speed and most of all, luck. Kuvira searched aimlessly for something sturdy to hold on to, but the panic was settling in her bones as they skid further and further down the mountain. Hiro clung to her crying helplessly. She clenched her teeth. C’mon. There has to be something-

There

The green in her eyes sparked to life and the tug from her cable told her to hold on tight. With a flick of her wrist, she latched on to whatever support she found. And the next, she was hoisting both her and Hiro out of the train car and into the white chasm. They flew through, suspended in the air at a fast speed. 

Kuvira twisted her body, feeling the ache in her arms and back as she was trying to control her momentum while carrying both of them through the air. Hiro gasped and Kuvira felt her grip loosen slightly. Kuvira was quick and with her free arm, and held Hiro tight to her. In response, Hiro wrapped her legs around Kuvira’s waist, holding on as tight as she could.

She couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her, but the dark mass of rock was a breath of relief. It came a lot faster than she intended and her body harshly crashed against the side as they bounced off.

“Do not let go,” she grunted, seeing the mountain coming up again as they swung back towards it. With another grunt and contortion, she managed to get one foot settled firmly on the mountain. All it took was for her to feel the familiar rock underneath her feet, for her to finally let go of the breath she was holding. Her chest heaved and she heard a large thud from far below. She couldn’t completely relax yet, because she still had Hiro clung tightly to her chest. With her bending and pure physics on her side, her metal cable was holding on to something far above them, keeping them from tumbling with the fallen train car. The sweat poured from her forehead. “Hiro, I’m going to pull us up.”

Hiro blinked a couple times, her small body still shaking. Kuvira feels the woman nod against her chest and clench her body even closer. With the reassurance that Hiro wasn’t going to fly off, Kuvira’s attention settled on the metal and slowly they began moving up. Hiro unconsciously gnawed on her bottom lip as they ascended, careful not to make too many movements to disturb their rise. Meanwhile Kuvira focused on keeping supporting both of their weights as they ascended through the misty mountain air.

It was a gangly looking tree growing out of a shallow cave that saved them. It wasn’t very wide and  it sloped off to only hold enough room for both of them to lay down and catch their breaths. The cave was damp and cold, but all Kuvira could feel was the burning from her muscles ache. She moved on to her hands and knees, the adrenaline still pumping through her as her hair flew out in tangles against her face. Leaning down, she pressed her forehead against the damp ground, thankful to feel the comforting rock beneath her.

Kuvira cursed, letting herself settle and finally picking up to the frantic shouts coming through the radio attached to her hip. It was staticy and hard to hear, but she could just make out Commander Anjij’s shouts.

“Kuvira! Are you there!” She presses the button on the radio, trying to catch her voice. She sits up, letting her elbows fall on to her bent knees. Looking over at Hiro next to her, she sees the other woman has rolled on to her side with her back facing her. She didn’t seem to have any visual injuries, which was a relief. 

“Yes I’m here. Are you hurt? How are the others?” she asked.

“We’re all fine! What about you?” 

“I’m alright. Hiro and I are safe.”

“Thank Spirits you both survived!” Anjij sighs. “Where are you?” “In a cave on the side of the mountain. I can’t tell how far we traveled down.” “We’re coming right now! Hang tight!” With that the radio died on the other end. Kuvira gripped it tightly and resisted the urge to crush it or throw it off the ledge. It was her only contact with the rest of the world now. It was the only chance she had to escape this. She looked over at Hiro again, who seemed to finally quake her shaking body.

“Hiro, are you alright?”

“I think so.” The other woman sat up carefully, and despite definite bruises and scrapes, she was safe. The thick material of the Earth Empire uniforms definitely took on most of the impact. Her glasses are gone, and her weary brown eyes fixate on Kuvira. “Thank you.” Kuvira doesn’t respond, but lets out another sigh and leans back against the wall of the cave. Her eyes fall on the empty whiteness outside the cave.

“Don’t thank me. I should’ve taken more safety precautions,” she muttered bitterly to herself. It was a mistake to go into Omashu blind. At this point she knows it was the previous king of Omashu who attacked her. No one else had known that they were arriving. The thought of being crossed made her jaw clench. They would not be getting away with this blatant terrorist attack on her train.

“Kuvira? Are you okay?” the voice cut through her negative thoughts. It was the genuine concern in Hiro’s voice that made Kuvira look up. She didn’t even realize that her hands had balled into fists and the small sliver of earth beneath them was shaking. Looking over, Hiro sat on her knees with a tentative gaze. She kept her hands firmly on her thighs, but she wrestled back and forth reaching out and holding Kuvira’s hand.

One side broke over and Kuvira felt the warmth of Hiro’s hand settle atop her clenched ones.

“I’m alright,” she let out a long shaky breath through her nose, slowly easing her nerves. The feeling of Hiro’s hand touching hers all at once put her at ease and made her nervous. “They are coming to rescue us now.”

Hiro shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, taking away the contact between them. It was quite cold and the harsh wind that occasionally passed made it worse. The adrenaline was wearing off now and Kuvira realized just how much of a dangerous predicament they were in. It was still the morning so there was plenty of light out, but if they weren’t found before sunset, they wouldn’t survive the night. Kuvira stood up abruptly, trying to peer up through the fog at anything. Even if she could launch herself up there, there was no way she could carry both of them all the way back up by herself. And there was to guarantee that there’d be another ledge stable enough to hold them. Right now she could only hope to be found.

---

Hours passed. Even though dusk was still many hours away, their ledge had become freezing. This whole time they were silent and sitting apart with what little space they could find between them. Hiro tried to keep her shaking to a minimum, not wanting to set off the other woman in any way. Hiro’s mind had been racing. Ever since the attack, she couldn’t ease her mind. Did that happen often? Kuvira seemed to be fairly calm about it. It didn’t occur to her before how dangerous being a leader of an empire could be.

“You’re going to get sick.” Kuvira reached out and offered a hand, making Hiro flush. When she didn’t move, Kuvira rolled her eyes. “You either come here and we try to salvage body heat or we both lose a few toes.”

Hesitantly Hiro obliged and pressed her body next to Kuvira’s, making them shoulder to shoulder. She resisted the way her body wanted to sink into the other woman’s unusually warm body as they leaned against the cave wall together. Kuvira’s hair had been let out completely now, and she felt it tickle against her skin.

She felt a shaky breath brush across her neck and she shivered, but this time not from the cold. Kuvira instinctively tucked in closer, making Hiro tense up. If it wasn’t awkward before, it was now with Kuvira’s face practically buried in her neck. Despite the warmth admitted from her, Kuvira’s face was freezing against Hiro’s skin.

“Please,” the word whispered past her ear. “If we’re going to survive this, we’re going to need each other.”

She sounded so sure of herself that they were going to be okay. It was the confidence that made Hiro finally relax into Kuvira’s body and let herself rest. She felt Kuvira’s body slouch as the woman drifted off to sleep. It was clear that carrying them up the precarious mountain had taken a lot out of Kuvira, and Hiro had mixed feelings about the situation they were in now.

She took a risk and reached out to hold Kuvira’s hand in hers as she let the exhaustion take her.

[mattzerella-sticks]

Drop the Act (Dean/Cas, Sam-centric fic, Post-Canon, 3.5k)

After defeating the Empty, Sam thought all the surprises were done for. Cas was saved, was human, and the Winchesters were a complete family unit doing what they do best: hunting monsters and saving people. He didn't account for his brother and angel best friend to manage one final surprise after coming back from a routine hunt in Florida.

But that's what happens when you don't see what's been happening right in front of you for a year.

(Love to my #SPNFamily)

(Link to ao3)

           Sam enjoyed the Bunker these past two weeks while Dean and Cas were away. It was a vacation filled with dusty archives and suspenseful podcasts, eating when he wanted to and not having to put his research away while he did it.

           There were a few interruptions, like phone calls from his mom checking in. Making sure Sam didn’t neglect basic care for translating more texts. He was offended when Mary suggested he take a night off and step out from the underground. So Sam wouldn’t become, in her words, a ‘hermit’.

           His entire time alone wasn’t spent holed away from the world; Sam jogged in the early mornings – when he remembered to sleep at a normal time. And every other day he’d set aside a half-hour for yoga among the trees. Mary still wasn’t satisfied at that, remarking how little he interacted with others in his downtime. Rolling his eyes, Sam told her he hadn’t any need. The kitchen was well stocked before Dean left, and unlike his brother Sam learned how to control his portions.

           Sam wasn’t avoiding people; he found no need to seek others out. But when they came, he didn’t turn them away. Even with Dean and Cas out, Jack stayed with him. He, too, was uninvited from the hunt. They left each other alone for the most part, both busy with their own things. If he saw Jack, though, he wouldn’t ignore him. Sam invited his angelic son along with him the other day when he took interest with his yoga mat. Jack didn’t get farther than the warrior pose, but he had fun with it.

           So Sam had no problem being around people. He just appreciated his alone time, especially after a rough couple of months. Drowning in back-to-back hunts, he needed to lock himself down and recharge his batteries. Dean and Cas finding their own hunt, one he wasn’t asked to go on, was a sign. The peace and quiet lifted Sam’s spirits. He wasn’t bombarded with loud music, the clatter of pots and pans, distracting chatter and loud, suspicious noises at strange times. Wherever those two went, a commotion was hanging overhead like heavy, dark clouds.

           When he heard the slam of the Bunker door though, he knew his serenity was shattered. He shut his book with a sigh, glancing up as Dean and Cas descended the staircase with suitcases in hand.

           The hunt was in Florida, closer to Miami than Orlando. Now back in Kansas, they still looked ready for the beach. Dean wore a calm t-shirt of a muted grey color, a complete opposite to Cas’s loud rainbow colored Hawaiian shirt. They both also had on board shorts and flip-flops. Sunglasses were loss in the bird’s nest of Cas’s dark hair while Dean’s was hidden by his backwards cap. The entire walk down the stairs, the two bickered with relaxed grins stretched across their tan faces. Cas’s skin was even more bronzed than usual, while Dean’s body shone with star-like freckles.

           Even after a year, Sam found Cas a strange sight when out of his holy tax accountant armor. Picking out a wardrobe was one of the many things Dean taught Cas after becoming human. He didn’t mind, sticking by their friend’s side through it all. He forgot much of what he already learned for his first stint, and the process the second time around was anything but easy. Dean’s resolve never wavered, helping Cas develop his routines and explore his tastes. “What I should have done the first time around,” Dean said.

           “Hey guys,” Sam waved at them, “Didn’t know you were coming back so soon.”

           Dean nodded, dropping his stuff at the head of the table. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. We kinda lost track of time and forgot to call…”

           “To be fair,” Cas said laying his own luggage beside Dean’s, “I assumed Dean had already done so before we left the motel.”

           He rolled his eyes. “When could I have? I wasn’t out of your sight that entire morning.” Dean sat, continuing. “Besides, I thought I told you to text Sam when we stopped for the night in Illinois?”

           “That’s your fault,” Cas told him, taking the chair to Dean’s left for himself. “My thumb hit the wrong button because of somebody –“

           “Oh like that was a problem for you,” Dean cut him off, beaming. Cas matched it in intensity, their smiles glowing with radiant bliss.

           Sam cleared his throat, dragging their attention to him before the pull between them was too strong. “I’m glad you’re both home,” he said, glancing between the two, “the Bunker hasn’t been the same since you left…”

           Dean nudged Cas, chuckling. “That’s moose-talk for he wanted a few more days without us.”

           Glaring, Sam decided to not snag the bait. Instead, he asked them to share how the hunt went. They were tightlipped with the details over the phone, really only connecting with him through text. Sam’s digitization made accessing the Bunker’s resources much easier, but also took away any help he could offer.

           They told the story in halves, both of them interrupting the other at the oddest times with little facts and quips. It was hard to follow along at times, but Sam understood the gist of it.

           A shifter was targeting couples involved with a retreat program built to counsel married couples through communication problems. Sam snuck in a quick jab, wondering that if this hunt happened maybe years earlier things would have been different.

           “Yuck it up,” Dean scoffs, “But some of that shit was actually helpful… if you wanted to be some kind of new age freak in touch with your emotions.”

           “Anyway,” Cas course corrected, knocking shoulders with Dean, “we managed to sign up before the next session began so we could investigate.”

           “Turns out Cas asks questions better when he’s out of the Fed suit.”

           Sam stifles back a chuckle after Cas smacks Dean on the shoulder with a soft thwack. “At least I was asking questions. Half the time you were either on the beach or by the pool –“

           “It sucked enough that there was a shifter there, I was trying to make the most of our trip.”

           “We still managed to enjoy ourselves, after taking care of the monster…”

           Dean sighed, scratching at his neck. “Yeah that’s true.”

           Sam looked between the two, brow raised. “So, how did you take care of it?”

           The hunt barely lasted longer than three days, the extended time because Dean and Cas had trouble testing the staff with silver. Dean pouted, “Seriously, using the rings was a good start until you get called in to a session with a therapist about commitment and cheating.” He waggled his fingers, flashing the silver band towards him. Sam spied Cas’s hand resting on the table, wearing a similar ring.

           Cas smiled at Dean, eyes shining with warmth. “Although I did enjoy your very passionate defense when she assumed you took our marriage as seriously as a… what did she say? ‘Like a teen does his curfew’?”

           “She was bonkers,” Dean growled, “Just wanted to separate us, get us out of the way. Figured… since she was the shifter.”

           “She was?” Sam asked, “Did you gank her right then?”

           “We didn’t realize until later,” he said, “Much later.”

           Dean and Cas got into an argument after the meeting with the therapist. He was hurt and blowing off steam, and by doing that drew unwanted attention their way. “It didn’t matter what she or any of them thought,” Cas told them, “We were there for one thing –“

           “I didn’t take that well either,” Dean admitted, sheepishly darting his eyes back and forth between Cas and the table. “Stormed off to be alone for awhile… mainly sat by the surf and watched it tickle my toes.”

           “While I involved myself in the activities,” Cas said, “Until Dean came to apologize.”

           Sam eyes his friend, “That… sounds ominous.”

           Dean chuckled, “That’s because it wasn’t me.”

           The shifter decided to corner Cas on his way to the pottery lesson, dragging him away to a hidden alcove. Fake Dean took every measure to appear reticent, and quoted a lot of their history back at Cas. He shrugged at Sam. “She did her research.” Cas was ready to forgive Dean, waiting for him to take the first step. It was only when she suggested they seal their argument with some make-up sex did Cas figure out it wasn’t Dean.

           Sam rolled his eyes. It wasn’t the first time a monster read more into his brother’s relationship with their friend. And for once it played to their benefit. He shot off a quick prayer that Dean got used to those types of digs. Before, he would scowl for days and butch it up. Now any mention brought out a wry chuckle and a soft look. Sam couldn’t imagine his brother would have been okay faking a relationship with another man a decade ago. He’s really grown, becoming comfortable with his sexuality.

           “I stabbed her in the heart when she tried unbuttoning my pants,” Cas said.

           Dean leaned into him and smirked. “And that’s when I found them.”

           Sam spluttered. “You did?”

           “Oh yeah, was walking, working up the courage to see Cas and… let’s just say it didn’t make me feel better stumbling on that.”

           “You knew what it was, though,” Cas comforted him, hand disappearing under the table, “All the times I said I wanted to kill you meant nothing in that moment.”

           “Oh yeah that moment…”

           Sam watched them slip into another one of their moods. Where Dean stared at Cas, and vice versa. Nothing could pierce the veil created when both men communicated with only their eyes. When they started these, Sam felt left out. He wanted that closeness, where someone could know what he was feeling with a single glance. Through the years he got over it, though. What Dean and Cas shared couldn’t be replicated. Now all he felt was a fond annoyance. In the early years, he could count these special interactions with both hands. But then that number grew exponentially. After they got Cas back from the Empty, it rocketed near infinity. Sam knew why.

           Dean and Cas were best friends, the former angel an official Winchester brother. Losing him after Lucifer stabbed him was like cutting off a limb. The Empty, two limbs. In the ceremony freeing Cas from that void, Dean vowed to never let any power come between them. His conviction, a powerful magic in itself, forced the Empty into slumber. Not before it shrouded the two as the final words were spoken. They broke the curse hanging over them, and all it cost was Cas’s grace.

           “I don’t need it, not anymore,” he said, once they settled back in the Bunker, “Not when I have my family.”

           Sam cleared his throat, breaking their intense focus. Back for less than an hour, and he had his fill of them. He asked what happened for the rest of the hunt. “You wrapped it up so quickly… but you were there longer?”

           “Dude, we were in Florida,” Dean said, “Vacation.”

           “Seriously?”

           “Hell yeah,” his brother grinned, teeth sharp and white. “Do you know there are nude beaches in Florida –“

           “Gross, I don’t want to hear it –“

           “It’s just the human body, Sam.”

           “Whatever.”

           Dean turned to Cas. “I think he’s gotten his fill of us already.”

           “Then we might as well unpack,” Cas sighed, standing, “I’m feeling kind of ripe.” As he stood, Dean did as well; the reason being their joined hands, as Sam noticed. He gaped at them, unnoticed. “I’d kill for a shower right now.”

           “Well I hope not me,” Dean joked, leading them away.

           Before they could get too far, Sam found his voice. “Guys?” he yelped, voice cracking near the end. Dean and Cas glanced back, free hands hovering over their bags. “What are you… what’s going on?”

           “We’re heading to our room, Sam,” Dean said, “What else does it look like?” Whispering to Cas, he talked from the corner of his mouth. “Someone had his nose in the books too long…”

           “Our room?” Sam parroted, “What are…” In an instant his face shifted, smoothing out into a familiar expression. He set the tired lines of his bitch face to radiate the most annoyance with his brother’s actions. “Okay, I get it. Ha ha… good one.”

           “Okay, now you’re starting to freak me out,” Dean stepped closer worryingly, “Talk to me Sammy. Tell me what’s the matter.”

           “That shifter sure got you wrong,” Sam muttered, returning to his book, “You sure seem committed to this bit.”

           “What ‘bit’?”

           “Seriously, Dean, the case is over. You and Cas can drop the married act now.” He wanted to finish the chapter. It’s difficult when his brother and friend are glaring at him with righteous fury. If he didn’t already know Cas lost his powers, he’d be very concerned for his well-being. “What?”

           “Sam,” Cas started, “Dean and I are married.”

           The bombshell that dropped before him sounded suspiciously like his book slipping through his fingers. It was a contest, which would blink first him or them. Sam waited for the ringing in his ears stop before asking. “W-what?”

           All fight drained from Dean and Cas, each sneaking looks at each other before shooting Sam twin looks of concern. “Sam,” Dean tried, reaching a hand out, “are you okay –“

           “I should be asking you that,” Sam leapt to his feet, eyeing him for any clues. “Were you sure it was only a shifter. This isn’t like a spell or anything?” He dragged his fingers across Dean’s chest, as if a hex bag was taped there like a recording device.

           Dean bat his hands away. “Dude, the hell? No there weren’t any witches. Me and Cas are married.”

           “You’re serious?” Sam asked them, eyes wide, “You guys got married in Florida?”

           “No, Sam,” Cas said, “Dean and I have been married for a while… we celebrated our anniversary in Florida.”

           “…What?”

           “Yeah,” Dean continued, drawing Cas in closer, “One year. Why do you think we didn’t want anyone else coming with us?”

           “Because…because you didn’t need us for the hunt?”

           “When we went there was no hunt,” Dean sighed, “Except Winchester luck made it so we had ourselves a working vacation. You’re lucky we managed to salvage what was left so we weren’t coming back cranky. Although… ‘m not feeling too good now.”

           “Oh my God, you two… I can’t believe this…” Sam sank back down into his seat, tugging at his hair. “A… a year? How… When?”

           “You were there, Sam,” Cas said, “all of you were. Mary, Bobby… Jack, Claire, Jody, Donna and the girls… Chuck –“

           “Hold on,” Sam cut him off, “When we dragged your ass back from the Empty?”

           “Yeah,” Dean said, “Weren’t you listening when Chuck explained?”

           Sam blushed, finding his lap more interesting than the conversation. He remembered when Chuck showed them the parchment. On it was a way to rip Cas’s grace out and put it back into his body. He’d still be connected to the Empty, until the second part purified his body of any connection with the entity. And because of that, the Empty still had Cas’s wings, but his soul belonged to humanity. That’s all Sam thought he needed to know. He tuned Chuck out in favor of going over the scroll himself; confident he would understand it better that way. It was illegible, and Sam was too embarrassed to ask Chuck to clarify.

           “But,” Sam tried to save some of his dignity, “You two didn’t really change much. How was I supposed to know all of that was a… wedding ceremony?”

           Dean smirked, knocking heads with Cas. “We’re too old to act like animals, ripping our clothes off wherever. Didn’t need to, anyway. Me and Cas were always close… so there wasn’t that big a change. Just more options to express what was already there.”

           “Although it was me who stopped Dean from getting too frisky in public areas,” Cas sighed, “He didn’t care if you were to walk in on us.”

           “Should’ve let him. I bet there wouldn’t have been any confusion if he saw us –“

           “I don’t even want the mental image,” Sam said, face redder than before.

           His misery garnered a healthy chuckle from his brother. Dean wiped a tear from his eye, “Oh man, Sammy. How could you not notice for a year? You’re the one who’s always harping on the details. Oh – oh – and you even told me the next time I watch porn to wear headphones? Sam, I haven’t had the need to watch porn for so long you heard me and Cas going at it!”

           “Stop!” Sam cried, shoving his hands over his ears, “I’m going to murder you!”

           “Please, Sam, not my husband. Only I’m allowed to kill him,” Cas said blandly. His eyes feigned boredom but there was a smirk curling across his face.

           “I can’t have been the only one who didn’t know.”

           “Know what?” Jack asked, stepping into the room; his frown at Sam’s posture immediately transformed into a smile when noticing Dean and Cas. “Hey! When did you two get back?”

           Dean waved his question away, instead asking one of his own. “Jack, me and Cas? What are we?”

           “…My dads?”

           “No,” he sighed, flashing his hand at him. “What do these rings signify?”

           “Oh! That you and Cas are married!”

           Sam paled at the answer, Dean’s boastful grin leeching the color from him. “You knew?”

           “Of course, Sam,” Jack said, “It was their one year anniversary.”

           “This isn’t making any sense,” Sam muttered to himself, “Why didn’t I…”

           “Mom was in tears for days, Sam. And you thought Claire was joking when she called me dad? Christ, Chuck gave me his blessing and officiated. Even Amara sent a gift, and it wasn’t dad rising from the grave.” He heard Dean swallow, and then a hand on his shoulder. Sam looked up into his brother’s eyes, any and all mirth gone. “You, uh… you’re okay that me and Cas… that we’re…”

           Sam bit back a curse, hating himself for how he was acting. “Of course, Dean. It was… I was shocked is all. I mean… one whole year? And I didn’t even know, didn’t congratulate either of you…”

           “I thought you did, for what it’s worth,” Dean said, “‘You look happy, Dean. How does it feel to have a no-strings attached win?’” Those were the exact words Sam said to him after the Empty’s tentacles slithered away. A tear hangs precariously from the corner of Sam’s eyes.

           “I meant it,” Sam nodded, “Especially now that I know you and Cas are married. Are in love.” The words sat right on Sam’s tongue. Thinking back, he wasn’t sure how he kept the blindfolds on for so long. Love was the only explanation for the way Dean and Cas looked at each other. For how Cas always has a cup of coffee for Dean ready when he wakes up. For Dean buying books for Cas whenever they head out on hunts, the former angel’s collection already taking up one shelf in the Library. Sam swiped at his eyes, launching himself forward to crush Dean into a hug. “You deserve this, Dean.” Dean muttered something under breath, tugging Cas over with their still joined hands. He opens his vice-like grip long enough to crush the other man in, too. “So do you, Cas.”

           “All right, all right,” Dean freed himself, fighting the sweet smile unfurling, “That was enough of a chick-flick moment for today.”

           Cas nodded. “Dean is all chick-flicked out. We spent last night marathoning Bridget Jones after I lost the coin flip.”

           “Cas,” Dean whined, “You’re my husband. You took a vow to always be on my side.”

           “I made no such promise,” Cas chuckled, twining his arms around Dean’s neck, “All I committed to was loving you,” he pecked at Dean’s lips, “cherishing you,” again, “and honoring you,” and again, “until I take my last breath. Nowhere in there did I ‘vow’ to never make fun of you.”

           “You’re an ass.”

           “Yes, but I’m your ass.”

           Sam and Jack exchanged amused glances. “All right,” Sam cut them off before they bickered some more, “We get it. You’re together. You don’t have to prove it anymore.”

           “This?” Dean asked, “This ain’t proof. You want proof you can watch us have sex.”

           Sam frowned, scrunching his nose up in disgust. “Yuck. I told you Dean, I didn’t want the image of you sticking it to Cas.”

           Dean stepped backwards, mouth nearly cracking in half by how wide his grin is. “Other way around, moose brains.” He winked, delighting in the stuttered outrage from his brother.

           “Really?!?”

           “Of course, Sam,” Cas said, Dean already disappearing down the hallway, “How do you think I knew it wasn’t the real Dean?” The pointed stare brought the flush back onto his cheeks. Cas blipped out of sight after that, his and Dean’s laughter both mocking and comforting.

           Sam shook his head, the smile still in place on his face. “You two… made for each other.” He enjoyed his alone time, but always made time for his family. He always will. Things may change, can end or begin anew, but family will be eternal.

[psychoticgirl]

Big Teeth Small Kiss

For Sifki Week Day 2: Mythology. 

Inspired by a wonderful anonymous prompt regarding the traditional Norse myth of Loki’s part in the death of Baldur. I took the idea of the prompt and went in a totally different, much darker direction, but I hope it still works!

AO3 I FF

She had accepted his request for her presence without hesitation, allowing a guard to lead her through the Royal wing of the palace before letting her continue on alone through the final door. She found Loki with his pale face turned up, studying the sunlight and the shadows it cast on the private courtyard as if measuring the time.

She allowed herself a breath to admire the view of his long form and sharp features warmed in the garden sun. She also guessed that he was fully aware of her gaze and lingered a moment to preen. He turned slowly at the sound of her approach and greeted her with a smile. “Right on time, My Lady.”

Sif tipped her head and pressed an arm across her chest. “Always, My Lord.”

“Shall we continue where we left off?” The prince gestured towards the garden bench, laid out with the bow Sif had come to prefer from the prized noble collection.

Sif nodded and approached, lifting the thin arrow from the bench to inspect the weapon. A shaft of mistletoe. A curious choice, Sif thought, sliding her thumb against the edge of the sharpened side. A cutting pain pricked her during the motion, and a fat drop of crimson blood formed on her thumb. Instinctively the warrior brought the thumb to her mouth and sucked at the wound to ease the pain.

Loki took her wrist, pulling her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to the pad of her tender thumb, then letting it drag against his bottom lip, exposing his teeth. The sight brought an image of a wolf to Sif’s mind.

“Take care, Lady.” Loki released her hand and reached up to smooth his own thumb against her cheek in a curiously tender gesture. “A shieldmaiden such as yourself should know best of all that even the most unassuming thing can be dangerous.”

Sif smiled at the veiled compliment and reclaimed her hands, bending to gather the bow and arrow.

“I have a surprise,” Loki reached into the folds of his leather, “if you would indulge me.”

Sif’s stomach flipped as she watched and listened to his smooth voice. Loki presented a blindfold in his upturned palms, the sleek black silk held in offering against his graceful hands.

“What’s this?” Sif questioned.

“Your finesse with the bow has surpassed the skill of anyone who ever wielded that weapon before you. You possess the best, most accurate shot in the entire nine realms, dear Sif. Your skill is truly unparalleled.” He dropped his gaze from hers and looked down at the silk in his hands before continuing. “I confess I’m not quite ready for our private sessions to cease. I thought a challenge may bring a new thrill for one more test.”

Sif hesitated a moment, looking towards the small, soft flour sack that served as her  target, which Loki had spent ample time adjusting to his liking until it was positioned just so across the yard, at chest height.

“Don’t you trust me?” Loki asked, his voice full of feigned insult.

“Not at all,” Sif half-lied.

She stepped closer to accept his challenge and his smile at her acquaintance warmed her belly.

“Brave Sif,” he complimented.

“Foolish Sif,” she corrected and his grin grew more wicked.

She stood still while the second born prince carefully placed the length of silk across her eyes, allowing herself one last look at the alluring angles of his face, before her world turned a warm black. Although the sun was bright, the blindfold was opaque and her sight was lost. In response, her other senses heightened and electrified. Breathing in the smell of the Queen’s roses, she attuned her body to the pleasant sensation of the sun warming her skin and the wisp of her hair blowing gentle touches against her neck in the breeze.

She was particularly aware of Loki’s body next to hers, the smell of his leathers, the sound of his hum of approval all magnified in her darkness. She shivered when she felt his hands take her waist. He kissed her then, long and hard in a way that stole her breath and melted her into his touch. Secretly, desperately, she wished that she could see his face in that moment. Never before had he kissed her so openly, never in a public space outside of his bedchambers.

She mused over how she had come to be in this position, with her heart racing at and aching for Loki’s touch. She had never held him in high confidence, typically giving him a wide berth in the sparring yards, knowing him to be fond of mischief and trickery. She had been wary when he approached her one morning months ago when she was alone in the yard to invite her to the private royal training grounds. But her warrior heart was eager for the chance to access the spoils of weapons that was afforded to so few. It came as a surprise to her when she found Loki eager for the chance to share her bed, wooing his way forward with honeyed words, whispering praise of her prowess in the training yard and love of her body and mind into her ear.

She knew that his was a liar’s tongue. But she could not deny the pleasure it brought her, how her ego enjoyed the attention he lavished upon her in their secret meetings. And, oh, the pleasure he could coax from her body, was beyond anything she had ever felt before. She even perversely found enjoyment in the possessive way he looked at her. Slowly, unexpectedly, recklessly she had become putty in his hands.

She molded herself to him now. The passion of his kiss, heightened by the blindfold made her dizzy. The warrior allowed herself to give into the vulnerability of the moment, indulging Loki’s hands as he spun her abruptly, then caught her again with her back against his front, his long palm pressing her close. Blind, she didn’t have a clear sense of which way she now faced, still reeling from the kiss.

“If you please, My Lady.” His voice was velvet whispered in her ear, surrounded by his arms.

His hands covered hers to nock the the bow with the strange mistletoe arrow, and raise her arms to aim.

“Just a breath higher, that’s it. The time is almost here, lovely loyal Sif.” He placed his hands on her hips as she drew the bowstring back.

“You’re going to do so well,” he purred. “Get ready.”

Sif took in a calming breath in her darkness and tried to steady her racing heart.

“Now,” he demanded and Sif obeyed. Loosing the arrow and letting it fly.

She heard it connect with soft target, her aim true as ever and she smiled in her blindness.

“Perfect,” Loki’s voice dropped into her ear before he pulled his body away.

The woman’s scream that followed made Sif’s blood freeze, knowing something was dreadfully wrong. Raising a hand, Sif pulled the silken knot loose from the back of her head, blinking in the too-bright sun.

Across the courtyard Thor stood, pierced through with her arrow, growing pale as a weeping, screaming Frigga guided his body to the manicured grass, blood seeping into the dirt.

The look of surprise was frozen on the first prince’s face, not expecting the ambush while out for his daily stroll with his mother. It was supposed to be mundane. Punctual, routine, planned.

A chuckle drew Sif’s attention back to her lover, as Loki watched his brother crumple. A horrible, satisfied smile warped his features.

She suddenly realized what she had done, what she had been made to do.

The clarity struck her through and she released the silk clutched in her fist. In the moment between the blindfold fluttering from her fingertips and landing in the grass,  Loki caught her eye, and his smile momentarily grew, before the trickster’s wicked grin morphed effortlessly, melting into a look of absolute horror.

He began to back away from her, his voice a masterful performance of surprise. “Oh Lady Sif, what have you done?” He called louder and turned from her then. “Guards! Guards please!”

In horror, Sif looked down and the bow still held in her hands as the guards began to heed the prince’s calls. The intensity of pain and betrayal and fear felt as if her own heart had been shot through by Loki’s corrupt arrow. She released the weapon and turned to flee the grounds. In that moment her soft shattered heart turned to stone.

[darling-cas]

Whatever It Takes: Chapter 1

ACOTAR Figure Skating AU

Summary: Nesta firmly believes that if you want something, you have to work your ass off for it. And she wants a National title attached to her name. But when her coach decides that a change in discipline is what Nesta needs, she’s far from impressed. Now, instead of training as a ladies single skater, she has to switch gears and skate as a pairs skater. And her partner? Someone she can’t stand. Non other then cocky, flirtatious, former Men’s skater Cassian. Edited by: @ilikebigbooks-and-icannotlie

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

——————–

Nesta pulled her laces tight, tying a bow at the top. She stood up, bending slightly at the ankles to make sure her skates were nice and snug. When she was satisfied, she sat back on the bench, leaning against the wall.

She normally wasn’t one to be tired at early morning practice. She’d trained her body over the years to follow a strict schedule. She went to bed at ten every night and woke up at four in morning, giving her exactly six hours of sleep. When she was up, she went about the same routine Monday through Saturday. Early morning practice, off-ice practice, gym workout or ballet class, another on-ice practice, then home for bed. She had followed that schedule for most of her skating career.

Yet, she couldn’t help but feel the exhaustion set in on her shoulders that particular morning, making her eyes droop and her limbs feel heavy.

To say practice had been hell lately would be an understatement. Nesta pushed herself harder than she ever had before. After Nationals, she took about a week off before she put herself back on her intense schedule once more.

If you want something, they have to work your ass off for it. And Nesta wanted a National title attached to her name.

Practices were intense, brutal. Just the way Nesta liked them. But that didn’t make them any less frustrating.

She decided very early on that if she was going to beat Aelin Galathynius next year - along with every other skater in her category - she was going to have to add a triple-triple combination to her routine. Of course, skaters didn’t necessarily need triple-triple combos to beat out the competition. If they didn’t land the jump, it would do them more harm than good. But Aelin Galathynius had nailed her triple-lutz triple-toe. Therefore, Nesta had to one up her.

So she added a triple-flip triple-loop to her routine.

A dangerous combination. Triple loops were hard to get right. They were normally always marked as under-rotated. Which was what made Nesta pick that jump.

If she landed it, she had no doubt she would take that National title.

The only problem was that, though she had been training and working on the jump for months, she still had yet to get it right, which caused her to leave practice more and more irritated every day.

But Nesta didn’t believe in ifs. There was no if she would land it. Only when she would land it. Because she would land that jump. She didn’t care how much she had to push and crawl to get there.

Running a tired hand over her face, Nesta pushed herself up off of the bench once more.

She was Nesta Archeron. She was a fighter, a winner. She had to push through the exhaustion and work just as hard as she did every day.

Pulling her slick ponytail tight, Nesta took in a deep breath. A look of pure determination clouded her features as she picked her water bottle up and marched through the door.

The crisp air of the old stadium welcomed her the moment she left the dressing room. There were only a few skaters on the ice at that hour of the morning. Not like they had many skaters at the Velaris Starlight Figure Skating Club. They were definitely one of the smaller clubs in the country. Which made getting ice time easier.

Nesta took off her skate guards. As she did so, her narrowed eyes spotted Mor starting her warm-ups. The two shared a quick nod, but nothing more. Practices weren’t for socializing - not for Nesta. Still, she couldn’t help but notice that the ice felt almost too big. As if one missing body made a huge difference. It was still an odd sight, not seeing Elain on the ice.

There were a few other skaters on the ice. However, Nesta no more than glanced at them as she stepped onto the slick glossy surface.

It was like someone had flicked on her autopilot. The moment her blades touched the ice, Nesta was locked in her own little bubble. Her blades carried her as if they had a mind of their own. She went through her warm-up routine without so much as a second thought. She did all the moves she knew like the back of her hand, warming and loosening up her body, getting herself ready for another intense, body-breaking practice.

Twenty minutes later, Nesta glided across the ice. She pulled her leg up over her head, stretching out her thigh muscles, before moving onto the next leg. She did a few more stretches before she made her way to the boards. She kicked her leg up, resting her head against her knee. And damn her, because as she was reaching for her toes, she couldn’t do anything to stop a yawn from escaping her mouth.

Nesta wanted to rip out her own hair for letting the exhaustion get to her like that. Even more so when she heard a pair of blades glide to a stop next to her. Followed by a dark, fluid, male voice.

“I should make you do laps and some push-ups in the middle of the ice for that yawn.”

Nesta switched legs without so much as a glance over her shoulder.

“But you won’t,” she stated, resting her head against her knee as she counted out her stretch.

“You sound certain of that, Ms. Archeron.”

A ten count passed by where no one said anything. Then, Nesta lowered her leg and turned around, coming face to face with her coach.

“That’s because I am certain of that,” she said simply, stretching her arm across her chest.

Coach Carver raised a dark eyebrow. That cool expression was forever present on his handsome face. With his mop of stylish dark hair and eyes so brown they appeared black, his skin looked paler than it actually was, which caused him to look even scarier to any passerbys. Even his smiles were wicked, almost humorous. He walked and skated with this ancient aura around him, as if he was older than he seemed. As if he belonged in another world.

And maybe he did. He was one of the best skaters to come out of Valeris after all, along with Coach Suriel. Both had Olympic titles to their names.

Which was why Nesta picked him for her coach. He was brutal, unforgiving. He did everything, no matter the measure, to make sure his skaters were the best they could be. No excuse was good enough for him. He pushed. Stretching the muscles until they grew several inches. Bending bones until they suited his needs.

That was how he got his nickname after all - the Bone Carver.

Coach Carver raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow.

“Watch your tongue, Ms. Archeron.” That deadly smile appeared on his face, as if he knew her deepest secrets. “It may get you in trouble some day. If it hasn’t already, that is.”

Nesta couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Coach Carver was also way too dramatic for his own damn good.

“Can we get on with this?” Her face was hard. “I have a jump to land, and we’re already twenty minutes into practice.”

“I wanted to talk to you first, actually.”

Nesta waited, forever impatient, as Coach Carver clasped his hands behind his back. He didn’t speak for a few short moments. He simply stared at her as if he was trying to see into her mind, which only raised Nesta’s temper.

“Can we make it quick, then?” She tried not to snap, but she didn’t succeed. She had a routine to perfect, and even her own damn Coach was doing nothing but wasting her time.

Coach Carver stared at her for a heartbeat longer before he finally spoke.

“When I tell you this, Ms. Archeron, I think it’s best you keep in mind that I’m your coach. I know what’s best and have never lead any of my skaters wrong before.” Those dark pools bore into Nesta’s very soul as Coach Carver slowly spoke. “And before you decide to open that smart-ass mouth of yours, you should also keep in mind that, unlike you, I have an Olympic title to my name. So I would think twice before you talk back to me.”

Harsh words, they both knew it. But they worked, just like Coach Carver knew they would. Nesta found herself clenching her jaw, nodding slowly.

She couldn’t stop a chill from running down her spine. A chill that had nothing to do with the bitter stadium air. Nesta knew that whatever Coach Carver was about to say was going to be damn serious.

“You’re a good skater Nesta Archeron. There’s no doubting that,” he said. “But even the best skaters need to be pushed out of their comfort zones to become the best of the best.”

Nesta narrowed her steely eyes. “I’m already pushing for a triple-flip triple-loop. How much more out of my comfort zone could I get?”

Coach Carver shot her a warning glare, causing Nesta’s mouth to snap shut. Even she knew when not to cross her coach.

But she couldn’t help but notice that there was also a challenging look in his eyes. And was that amusement?

“I think you need a change in discipline.”

No beating around the bush then.

Nesta blinked. She stared back at her coach with a blank expression, the words not fully registering in her head.

“You want me to change my skating discipline.” Her words were slow, as if she were trying to understand them. “What? Ladies’ skating to Men’s skating?”

There was definitely amusement shining in Coach Carver’s eyes as his lips pulled up in the corner.

“Not exactly. Despite how interesting that would be,” he said, putting his gloved hands in his coat pockets. “You’re going to skate Pairs.”

A beat passed where no one spoke. Nesta could heard the sounds of blades and yelling behind her, but it all blew past her.

Then, she smiled. A laugh bubbled out of her lips.

“Yeah, right,” Nesta shook her head. “Even you aren’t crazy enough to switch a skater’s discipline just 2 months before the first competition of the season.”

“Regionals hardly counts as a competition for you,” Coach Carver waved her off. “And I am very serious Ms. Archeron. You are going to be skating Pairs from now on.”

The smile slipped off Nesta’s face. A shiver ran through her as she narrowed her eyes.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” It took everything in her not to yell. “This is completely stupid and ridiculous! What good is switching disciplines going to do me at this point?”

Coach Carver actually had the nerve to sigh. As if he was tired of her already today.

“Do you have a National title to your name?” Coach Carver stated bluntly. When Nesta didn’t say anything, he continued. “You’ve been skating competitively for eight years now and the closest you’ve come to that title is third place two years ago. So clearly, Ladies isn’t doing you any good.”

“And you think Pairs will?”

Venom laced Nesta’s every word, but Coach Carver simply nodded.

“I do.”

“I’ve never even skated Pairs before,” she felt the need to point out.

“It’s not as hard as you would think, especially not for you, who has been skating for eighteen years. Plus, your partner is also a very skilled skater. Someone else with lots of years-”

Nesta held up her hand. By the look on Coach Carver’s face, she could tell he wasn’t too impressed. But she didn’t care. Not one bit.

“You said partner.” Her brows pinched together as she spoke. “You already got me a partner?”

“Of course.” Coach almost sounded offend. But then he looked over Nesta’s shoulder, beckoning someone forward. “And here he is now.”

Before Nesta even had a chance to think about who she had seen on the ice that morning, a pair of blades glided to a stop next to her and Coach Carver.

“Nesta Archeron -” the amusement shining purely on Coach Carver’s face now was unbearable - “Meet your new skating partner.”

If Nesta was irritated before, she was definitely raging now.

Of all the people her coach could have chosen, Cassian stood next to her. His shoulder-length dark hair was pulled back messily. Those piercing hazel eyes locked on her. His rough features caught the bright rink light, and there was an ever-present smirk on his lips. Just the sight had Nesta’s blood boiling. Her jaw locked as her fists clenched.

“No.”

Her voice was dangerously low, cutting off whatever Cassian was about to say, his mouth snapping shut.

“No,” she repeated, turning to Coach Carver with fire in her eyes. “This is fucking ridiculous. First you want me to change my discipline. Now, you want me to work with him? You’ve actually lost your mind.”

Coach Carver’s eyes flashed. “Watch your tongue, Nesta Archeron.”

“I’m not skating Pairs. And even if I was, I’m definitely not skating with him.” Nesta’s voice was cold as she pushed her blades backward. “Either I skate Ladies or I don’t skate at all.”

“Then I guess this is goodbye.”

A part of Nesta knew she should stop and think about her next move carefully. But she was too blinded by rage to think straight. The cold look Coach Carver was giving her, along with the raised eyebrow from Cassian, only fueled her fire.

“I guess it is,” she snapped.

Then, Nesta did something she had never done in her whole skating career.

She skated off of the ice in the middle of practice.

——————–

When Nesta stomped into their small house hours later, she was still fuming with rage.

It didn’t help that everyone was conveniently home that night. Something that was very rare for the Archeron household.

That fact did little to calm the fire burning deep within Nesta.

“Did you know about this?”

Feyre blinked as she looked up from the book she was reading at the breakfast bar. The fact she was home at all surprised Nesta, though she didn’t show it. Feyre was usually always out with her skating partner slash boyfriend Rhys, and his inner circle of friends. Friends that included Cassian. Which was exactly why Nesta made a beeline for her youngest sister.

“About what?” Feyre’s stormy eyes narrowed at Nesta.

“About Coach Carver completely losing his mind and wanting me to skate Pairs with Cassian fucking Guerrero.”

Elain, who was standing across from Feyre cutting up vegetables, paused. Her knife froze mid-cut as she looked up at Nesta.

“What?”

“I didn’t know any of this,” Feyre shook her head, surprise coating her own features. “And if Rhys did, he didn’t tell me.”

“Coach Carver can’t be serious though, right?” Elain asked. “Changing someone’s discipline this close to the start of-”

“He’s fucking serious all right.” Nesta’s words came out harsher than she meant them to as she cut off Elain, but she couldn’t help it.

“Maybe this isn’t a bad thing,” Feyre shrugged. “Coach Carver must know what he’s doing, or else he wouldn’t have brought up the discipline change in the first place.”

Nesta’s gaze turned hard as it flicked to Feyre, her words fueling the fire. Even though what Feyre said was true.

“Coach Carver shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place,” Nesta snapped. “Just because Pairs ended up working out splendidly for you doesn’t mean it’s that way for everyone else.”

Feyre’s gaze clashed with Nesta’s. Two pairs of the same stormy eyes meeting, neither one backing down. Just like it always was. Because Nesta and Feyre, they were two sides of the same coin. Too similar to get along and too different to understand one another.

It was so quiet, so intense in the room, Nesta didn’t even notice the footsteps coming from the hallway until they stopped.

“Ah Nesta. I didn’t realize you were home.”

As if the day couldn’t get any fucking worse.

Feyre’s heated gaze dropped back to her book. Elain went back to cutting the last of the vegetables. The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Nesta felt like she was choking on it as she turned around, coming face to face with her father.

Dressed in a pair of simple black pants and a grey shirt, stumbling into the kitchen with a beer bottle gripped in his hand, Nesta couldn’t tell if he was coming or going. But then again, that was always the case with their father. Ever since their mother passed away, and he took on drinking as a coping mechanism. Ever since he decided to give up. Ever since he decided that using the last of their money on gin was more important than using it on food.

Years later, and he was still the same. Refusing to actually do anything for his family. Leaving day and night, hardly ever being home.

Just looking at him now had Nesta’s seeing red.

“I could say the same about you,” Nesta’s cold voice bit into the air.

Not able to take her father’s gaze or the tension in the room any longer, Nesta simply stomped off down the hallway and into her small bedroom. The slamming of the door echoed off of the walls around her.

She took a moment to take an easy steady breath, but it did little to calm the blood rushing in her ears. The fire of rage burning deep within.

All she wanted was to practice and work hard. By herself. All she wanted was to land that damn jump perfectly so she could up her chances at winning Nationals. That’s all she was asking for. And honestly, it didn’t feel like she was asking much.

Deep down, a part of her did know she was being foolish. She knew she shouldn’t have skated off of the ice. She knew Coach Carver really did know what he was doing. If he believed switching her discipline was the best way for her to score a National title, then Nesta should have just smiled and gone along with it.

But that was the part of herself that Nesta never listened to.

She was Nesta Archeron. She did things her way or no way. She had worked hard to get where she was. She didn’t rely on anyone. The only person she looked out for on the ice was herself; no one else - save for Elain - really mattered to her.

There was no way Nesta Archeron could skate Pairs. Not when the whole concept was about a person opening themselves up. When every ounce of faith and trust was put in the hands of a partner. And especially not when said partner was Cassian.

A frustrated sigh made its way out of Nesta’s lips. She pulled her hair out of its ponytail, running a hand through it as she fell back onto her bed.

They never did get along, her and Cassian. He was always teasing her, testing her patience, and pushing her buttons. Ever since they first met, Nesta wanted to knock him off of his high horse and punch him in his smug face. It was bad enough that she had to see him almost every day at the rink. For Coach Carver to actually pair them up-

“Nesta?” A light knock sounded on the door, followed by Elain’s voice. “Can I come in?”

“Yes.” Nesta sighed once more, the exhaustion from that morning, and the whole day, settling down on her like a ton of bricks.

Elain carefully pushed open the door before closing it softly behind her.

“Who’s cooking dinner?” Nesta raised an eyebrow as Elain sat on the bed across from her.

“I left Feyre in charge. I don’t think she can screw up soup that badly.”

Nesta almost laughed at that. Everyone knew Feyre couldn’t cook to save her life. Somehow, she’d find a way to even burn water.

“I’m assuming he didn’t come home last night?” Nesta nodded her head in the general direction of the kitchen, bitterness in her tone.

Elain let out her own sigh, her finger tracing random patterns on the bed. “He walked in around noon today, falling all over the place. I managed to get him on the couch. He passed out then, only waking up a few minutes before you got home.”

A snort left Nesta’s lips. “Of course.”

She didn’t think she’d ever forgive her father for what he did - for what he was doing. For throwing away all of their money to numb his pain. The pain they all felt, but only he got the luxury to run away from. He was supposed to be the one taking care of them, but if he wouldn’t do that, then she’d take care of herself.

So she threw herself into her skating, dedicating her life to the sport her mother loved dearly. Meanwhile, Feyre worked three jobs to feed their father’s addiction.

Her irritation grew more and more over the years, watching her sister surrender paycheck after paycheck to that vile leech.

And yes, they were finally okay with money. Being professional skaters eased that worry. But still, just thinking about all of it caused anger to flare up deep inside of her.

A beat of silence drifted past them. A silence Nesta couldn’t take. The more silence she sat through, the more irritated she became.

“Do you know what you’re doing about skating yet?” She asked Elain. “You coming back?”

A shrug of her shoulders before Elain sighed, finally looking up.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “I still have another week or so before I have to let everyone on the executive board know if I’ll be sitting another season out or not.”

“Do you have a reason to take another season off?” Nesta questioned, raising an eyebrow.

It wasn’t unusual for skaters to have off-seasons. A lot of skaters took a season off every once in a while to give their bodies a rest, or spend more time training. But Elain was still a baby in the industry. For her to take two seasons off in a row… Nesta couldn’t understand why.

But Elain didn’t answer her question. She remained silent for a long while. The silence only told Nesta that whatever Elain was thinking, it was something serious.

Before Nesta had a chance to question her more, however, Elain spoke up.

“Did you want to talk about earlier? The discipline change?”

The question caught Nesta a bit off guard, before her blood started to boil once more.

No, she didn’t. Not with Elain. She couldn’t pass that stress to her. Even since they were little, it was always the two of them together while Feyre was more or less off on her own. Over the years, Nesta had become more and more protective of Elain, always wanting to cause her as little stress and pain as possible. That moment was no exception. Especially after seeing how much she had on her plate already with her own skating career, Nesta wasn’t about to add anymore weight on her younger sister’s shoulders.

So she didn’t even bother to answer the question.

With a sigh, Nesta fell back against her pillows, her mind running a mile a minute. The silence around her and Elain was almost deafening, but neither one of them said anything.

After some time, Feyre’s voice drifted down the hall, letting them know that dinner was ready. Elain slowly stood up, casting one look at Nesta before leaving the room.

But Nesta didn’t move. While her mind was racing, her limbs felt heavy. Exhaustion set into her bones. She didn’t have the energy to stand up. Not after the day she had just had.

No, tomorrow she would take action. Tomorrow, she would figure out how she was going to convince Coach Carver what a horrible idea all of this was.

Because she was Nesta Archeron. She was strong and independent. She didn’t need anyone in life to help her get anywhere. Least of all Cassian Guerrero to help her get a National title.

With blood rushing in her ears and a fire in her heart, Nesta slowly fell asleep with a look of complete determination on her face. The last thing she could remember was picturing herself punching Cassian square in his smug face, before blackness took over.