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g00d1uckch4rm · 5 years

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Primal

Chapter 10: Silence Isn't The Answer

Summary/Info Rated M

Previously… Yunan is making plans of her own and with her interest in Link lost, Sado has made a bold move, aiming to take Link for himself.

Zelda makes bold moves of her own. Seeing results in Link and Sidon’s interactions, she steals the Sheikah slate before the arrival of an intense storm.

While Sidon finally confesses, there are still secrets between them. Though Link has given Sidon the chance to court him, there is still a task that Link must finish before he can remain at Sidon's side.

Shadows within shadows begin to make their move as Sado and Hine seem to have their own plans being set in motion. Sado makes his first move and Mipha suffers dearly for it.

-Only obvious key points will be summarized. There are likely moments of an Unreliable Narrator or Sneaky Foreshadowing.- ____________________________________________________

Link shot up, gasping as though he almost drowned. Gold light flickered across his blurred vision as his eyes tried to adjust. Panting, he quickly ran his hands over his body in search of a wound, but turned up with nothing. His muscles were tense and humming with adrenaline, his chest burning as if he had just thrown up a lump of lava. Link could have sworn that he had been wounded or attacked or something.

Had it been a dream? But he couldn't recall if he had dreamt at all, yet he had a dreadful feeling weighing on his shoulders. This feeling that Mipha had cried out to him.

However, the burning didn’t fade and it seemed to be spreading. At first it just furthered his confusion, till his insides began to twist painfully. Panicking, Link realized that his fever had most certainly begun. He tossed the fine linen cover off, kicked one of the feather pillows away and in the dark, began to scurry out of bed. But the sleeping giant moved, rolling over and wrapped a large arm around Link, pulling him back in. Worried he had woken Sidon, Link became still. However, when Sidon finally stopped and relaxed, he didn't seem to have fallen back to sleep. "Who..?" His voice was heavy and concerned.

Though Link could only give their arm a gentle pat, as there was no chance Sidon could read his hands in this darkness.

Starting to come around, Sidon’s half-asleep mind put the pieces of last night together. "Link? Are you alright?"

The blond nodded his head quickly; whether Sidon noticed it or not, and took the opportunity to detangle from the hold. Link stumbled around in the dark for a bit before finding the flint. After he had candlelight, he then dug in his bag for one of the orange suppressants and quickly drank it. Though it would take a while to kick in, he believed he had caught it in time.

But when he noticed that Sidon was propped up on his side in the pillows and looking at him, Link began to fear any sort of questioning. Taking a deep breath, Link tried to control his laboured intake, to appear as calm as possible. That he wasn’t being affected by something. He then smiled as he said. [It’s likely a few hours after midnight. Go back to sleep, I didn’t mean to wake you.]

"Bad dreams?" He guessed and Link shrugged as he sat on the floor next to the bed. Though with his focus on controlling his aching body, he was taken by surprise when Sidon placed the blue plush in front of him. “I bestow thee, the slayer of nightmares, Sir Thunder-hoofsten of Breakback Mountain the First, the Lynel Champion." With a big playful grin, he continued. “I find that you two have matching manes when you get out of bed.”

Looking at the tangle of a mane the plush had and then reaching up to feel the mess his hair was in. Link definitely had a bad case of bedhead and half-heartedly he glared at Sidon. [Very funny, whose fault is that I wonder?]

“It could have been no other than Sir Thunder-hoofsten of Breakback Mountain the First, the Lynel Champion. He has a terrible case of mane envy.” Carefully brushing the fur with his claws back into a neat design to further put emphasis on this fact.

[Don’t you have a shorter name for that thing? I feel like you are doing that on purpose to be more annoying.]

“A warrior that has earned their title should be address with no less.”

Link gave his best ‘oh really?’ expression and gestured to himself. [What about me?]

“If that’s what you desire; Sir Captain Link of Central Hyrule, Great Hero of the people, the Hylian Champion.”

Link laughed, then shook his head and gave a small smirk. [Are you always this childish when you wake up?]

“Childish, me? Never.” He stated proudly and then sat up, changing his tone back to normal. “So... How bad was it, was it the same as before?” Link having nightmares was nothing new or surprising with the battles and struggles he’s been through. But there have been dreams that have felt so real, Link swears that it was like he had been there before. Adventures in the sky, on the sea, and in strange worlds.

For a moment Link was still, trying to gather whatever pieces he had. [I don’t remember anything other than I felt like something attacked me... And I think your sister called for me.]

“Mipha had reached out to you?” To which the other answered with a nod, followed by a shrug. “Normally, I would leave it as just a dream, but your connection to her is a deep one. I would not be surprised if she would speak to you out of anyone.”

For some odd reason, the word connection made Link’s heart rate spike. A fragment of Mipha’s soul resided within him, a tie to her healing powers.

“You look very worried all of a sudden, did you remember something from the dream. Is the message bad?”

Hopelessly, Link patted himself down as if it would help him. Then in a mad rush he got up to get dressed, ignoring the prince’s question.

Sidon was out of bed now, fearful of just what message Mipha would have given Link to make him suddenly scramble about. “Talk to me, what did she tell you?”

In record time Link was fully armed with the Zora armour and with his hands free, he explained the situation. [Her power, I don’t feel it anymore. It’s gone and I’m going to the divine beast to find out why.]

Alarmed, Sidon left no room for argument. “I’m coming as well.” And hurried for the door.

Grabbing his gift, Link quickly read over the instructions that Robbie had left him. Then began to equip the diving mask as he followed the other man out into the dark hall.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

“See? You didn't even notice he was gone.” Sado grinned as he played with an amber in his hands, not caring about the hateful look that Hine shot his way.

“His garments are slashed.” Irritated, but noting that not a single scratch was found on the Hylian's skin. And while grateful, she was shocked that the other primal did not hurt Kuu in any form. Brushing the soaked green hair away from his face, she could see that he was exhausted. Even if his expression always seemed dead to anyone else. “Whatever you did, you put a great deal of stress on him. If he loses my pup because of this. I'll pull two bones from your spine.”

He hummed, barely paying attention, until pain exploded from his core. She dare try this again!?

“But you did return him as he was. So, in return, I set your broken ribs.”

“Don't think that we're done here yet, I'll have more tasks for both of you in due time.” He huffed, glaring at her before sauntering off to the exit pool.

While Hine picked up her claim, feeling the small shivers that ran through him and carried him back to the souse den. Curling his arms around her neck, Kuu lightly nibbled at the bite scar above her collarbone. Hine let out a low rumble, tightening her hold as he rested his head on her shoulder.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

In the depths of the reservoir and with the light coming off his mask preventing his eyes from adjusting properly, it was almost impossible for Link to see anything. He estimated that his field of vision was about five feet. As he held onto Sidon’s wrist, Link could just barely see the point of his crest, the light faintly dancing across his scales as Sidon looked about.

"That's very strange." Sidon said with great concern as he continued to pull Link along with haste, leaving trails of bubbles in their wake. "Ruta has gone dark. In all my years, I have never seen this happen."

Before they reached the Divine Beast, Sidon looked back at Link. “We’re descending towards the right side, but starting at the gear room is probably as good a place as any. However, I’ll go in first and before you argue, let’s not forget which of us has the superior senses in the water and can see fairly well at night.”

Even if he was right, Link still didn’t like it.

"If I don’t sense anyone or anything, we’ll split up to investigate. I'll do a check of the perimeter while you handle the interior and we’ll meetup at the main control unit. Sound good?” He thought it was a fair offer, but he knew Link was stubborn when it came to things like this. Thankfully, he agreed with a firm nod.

Once at the point of entry, Link let go and used the frame to stop his momentum. While Sidon slowed himself down inside, floating just shy of Link’s vision.

Being inside Vah Ruta while active was very different than when it slumbered. But not for the reasons most might think; for sound traveled better in the water and vibrations from movement carried farther. So, without the revving of gears, the hissing of joints, the humming of energy, the thundering of engines and the overall rumble of the colossal machine. Sidon could hear the weary clicks of crabs skittering along metal surfaces and he could feel the faint flutter of fish anxiously darting all about. The eco and ricochet that came from being inside the multi-chambered vessel made it hard to pin-point the locations, but all that mattered was there wasn’t any unexpected guests. Be it monsters or people.

He then took a deep intake of water, picking up a mix of tiny traces of something other than lake life. But not enough to clearly make any of it out. He hoped to find stronger remnants in the search. And just as he was about to take off, he passed on an all clear. "No one else is here, but don’t let your guard down."

As Sidon returned to the outside and diving further to the feet. He found the muddy bottom was unsettled and from the imprints, he was certain that it had attempted to rise. Which was odd. The beast had moved here when the battle was over and though it remained active, it was in a state similar to slumber for many years. But, to start moving; only to stop moments after, it was worrisome.

He took his time inspecting everything he could as he went around the beast. Any damages or changes, anything that could be a clue. Yet, a cracking hiss startled him just as a sudden drop in temperature flowed down over his scales. Following the chilly water and sound, brought him up to where the control room was located. Sidon was shocked at the sight, to find ice protruding out and completely filling in the openings. This was certainly the work of Ruta's powers, but why was it here?

Hurrying around and as he passed through the archway of the main entrance of Vah Ruta, Sidon found that the room had been sealed. Or rather, almost sealed. A passage along the floor looked as though something had dug its way out. Taking a closer look, Sidon could also see clean, sharp cuts in the foot thick ice. Too clean, the area was polished smooth, this was not the work of an ordinary tool. Even the best axe would have left cracks and splintering surfaces from the force alone that it would take to cut through.  

What had Mipha tried to contain? Sidon thought as he looked through into the control room, as dim flecks of luminous stone gave the room ghostly shadows.

And the scents he picked up, this time it wasn’t traces, it was seeping out and did not help his concerns. There was blood and a fair amount of it, enough that had him believe the wound hadn’t been an accident. Following that was a soft, yet fresh and crisp smell. This was both confusing and surprising, a familiar scent, but no one in the Domain carried it currently. A wanderer had been here? While there weren’t many outsiders, it wasn’t unheard of for these Zoras to seek refuge during hard times.

The worst of it, he almost missed. It was faint, but there was no mistake in the rough odor, that bordered on mild salt. A primal. A challenger. Sidon’s fins bristled before he could control himself. Instincts spiking from the potential threat and readying for a fight.

Where’s Link? Sidon hurried into the chilly room and the scents only got stronger, along with picking up the remains that could not be described vaguely with taste. No, this kind was like cues and it was quite haunting without any people present. Fear, Sidon could smell an overwhelming scent of fear.

“Link! Are you in here!?” But he felt no movement in response and began to search the area. As the blood got stronger, he found that it was coming from one of the raised platforms, where the luminous stone fragments were scattered. But resting there on the floor as well, was a dead guardian scout, posed as if it had fallen.

Beginning to worry if the blood might be fresher than he thought, Sidon rushed for the platform. Though he was not expecting an air pocket as he suddenly breeched the surface. He proceeded to lift himself up and out of the water to check for the Hylian, even if it muted most of his senses. Yet, he found nothing aside from the shattered glowing stone and dark puddles of blood. Sidon stood searching the dark room and called out again. “Link!?”

He didn’t like this one bit. He had to find him quickly and get him out of here, back to their room, somewhere safe.

A blast of ruby light filled the room and blinded Sidon’s unprepared eyes. Just as his vision began to recover, he heard splashes of water and turned to the source. Finding a now orange and blue light, before recognizing it was the man he was looking for.

"Please tell me that was you who made that flash of light." Link nodded and Sidon gave a quick sigh of relief before sitting down, it was only Daruk’s shield. Thank Hylia, he is safe. “You scared the scales right off me, Link.”

Link lifted himself onto the edge of the platform before replying. [Sorry, the guardian caught me off guard.]

"I hope that you found some form of good news?"

[From the sounds of it, you found something of the opposite.]

"Yes. I’ve found a concerning amount of blood and evidence of two Zora." He informed. "I’m going to guess there was a fight. But, I do not know if they fought amongst themselves or against the guardian scout below."

[What do you make of the ice? You think your sister tried to interfere?]

"It's possible, but why seal them inside with it?"

[Maybe they were thieves.]

"Doubtful.” Sidon grumbled and casts a glare at the water. “If my sister would not grace me with her presence, why would she show up for something so petty?"

At this, Link frowned, not as though Sidon would see with the mask on. But Link noticed the edge of jealousy and resentment in his voice. Reaching out, he touched Sidon’s arm for his attention. [Despite what you may believe, I have not seen her since the day I set her spirit free. She may only choose to appear when she believes it to be necessary. I'm certain she misses her family just as much as you all miss her.]

Sidon merely huffed.

[But as painful as it is for you or I, even her; the fact is she's dead. And there's nothing in this world that could ever bring anyone back.] I know this better than anyone, Hylia knows how long I've searched and prayed. The dead can't come back. 

"But her soul-- she is still here! Why stay away when we could all be reunited once more? All these years, I have never understood that."

[I don't have the answers you're looking for. But I have wondered why any of the champions are still here, once that battle was finally over. Why did they stay or did they even get a choice and were just placed in another cage? What if their tie to the beasts is the only thing keeping them here? And what guarantee does anyone have that they will stay before Hylia calls upon them?]

"Even if she has finally left us for good." The sight of Vah Ruta with no life, Link's own loss of connection, what evidence did he have to believe otherwise? "I just wish I could have seen her one last time. I know that there is a monument in her image, but I can't remember if that is truly her face. I can't even remember the sound of her voice."

[She's a lot shorter.]

"I beg your pardon...?"

[Shorter than me at least, so perhaps she would be a dwarf to your people? Otherwise they got all the other details spot on.]

"A dwarf!?" Sidon gaped. "I'll have you know that she was a young woman with more years of growth still ahead of her." Then in an act of defending his sister's honour he shoved Link back into the water. However, he could not keep his face serious and broke down in a fit of chuckles. "Mipha would scold us both for this."

Link’s laughter was muffled by the mask as he pulled himself back onto the platform. Glad to have given Sidon a bit of relief. [Without a doubt. Though, imagine that on top of how big she would have been by now, she would be bigger than you.]

"Not at all. She would only have grown to the size of the average woman. After all she wasn't an heir to the throne."

Link froze at this information, had Mipha been an illegitimate child or adopted? [She was of your blood, wasn't she? You two look like siblings even.]

"We are, do not be mistaken, we share the same mother and father. Apologies, I forgot that the term 'heir' often refers to the first born in other cultures."

[So it's because you’re the first born son?]

"No." The Zora said solemnly, his smile vanishing as he ran his hand across his crest. "For Zora, an heir to the throne is not as straightforward as that. Father wasn't even related to the last ruler, he had been born into a common family. Muzu is actually the last of the previous royal bloodline."

[Then why did your father become-] Then something became clear. [Your father became king, because he was bigger?]

"Looking at it simply, yes. But, the first sign of an heir comes after children have already gained their entire colour or any time before the age of eighty. It presents in the change of one's head fin." He explained as he absentmindedly ran a hand over and down his own head fin. "Though for my Father... As Muzu was the older of the two and a direct descendent of the current royalty, it was expected for Muzu to inherit the throne in the end. As it is in most cases. For the possibility of an heir outside the direct descendent to inherit the second sign is very unlikely. So, as you can imagine, it was quite a shock to the kingdom that it was Muzu whom was unworthy, even if my father didn't want the throne."

[So, all heirs are required to outgrow any other Zora? What would have happened if they both got big?]

"Both would have likely continued their studies and duties until one outgrew the other. There is only one tale of twin heirs and in that case it had been a duel that settled it."

[He must have been outraged to have lost the throne to your father.] Knowing the elder's temper, it was not hard to imagine him losing it over something like this. In fact, his outburst from the other night made much more sense now, the palace had been his family's home for a very long time. 

"Not exactly, Muzu has always been firm in the ways of tradition. He admits that it had affected him greatly at the time, but was more disappointed in himself than anything. Twice, I have heard Muzu say Hylia chose my father to lead because she knew that he would be the only one strong enough. I like to believe that he is very proud of my father and honoured to have remained by his side." He then chuckled. "Though, perhaps Mipha was the only one he was ever truly proud of. He loved her like his own daughter."

[Interesting to know you'll be as massive as your father one day, you could arm wrestle a Hinox.] He chuckled at the thought; it would be a sight to see. Those giants aren't afraid of anything and can be a pain to deal with. Link also wouldn't doubt if Dorephan was younger he might even enjoy a tussle with one. [I'm certain that this had been explained to me before I lost my memories. Sorry, if I seemed rude for not knowing.]

With the mask, it was hard to know the emotion behind Link's words. But Sidon doubted that it mattered at all if he got bigger to the Hylian. Sidon couldn't decide if he should take comfort in that or not. Not that it would change anything, he was destined to a long life of solitude in less than a hundred years. A giant among all. Dorephan had reassured Sidon many times that he would eventually realize that the body of a king was worth the sacrifices. 

Yet it did not stop his self-hatred, the curses he felt that he was given. Sometimes even the most heavenly gods could be cruel, born an heir, a primal and branded as a symbol of death. Surely Hylia would not have chosen him and then torture him with a fate tied to such a small man? He'd laugh if this was a test of faith. 

[So, since we’ve uncovered next to nothing. Any chance the guard might have seen someone?]

Sidon hummed softly in thought. “Unlikely, there are two dams of the reservoir and only the one inside the Domain has patrols. That’s also not taking into account of the underwater passages that lead deeper in to the mountain range.”

Link sighed softly in defeat, with the witnesses gone, there really was nothing. [Best head back then.]

The Zora nodded in agreeance and hopped back into the water, however the rush of returning senses set him off something fierce. While he had forgotten about the rival, there was an even bigger problem now added into the mix. As water rushed over his gills, something far more potent coiled around his ribs and ran along his tongue. Such a sweet and wonderful taste, he just wanted to drink it all in. To gorge himself in the rich scent, to partake in the softness of a ready mate. Memories of what it had been like to take such a mate only tempted his hunger more. It had his whole body racing and his instincts sang in delight. Now.

With the vibrations that came from Link’s plunge, it shook Sidon enough to bring him back into reality. “Oh, gods.” He wheezed in panic, it had only been a second, he had completely lost control within a second of this smell. Not giving up the chance of clarity, Sidon refused to take another breath; and as fast as he could, escaped with Link in tow.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

Sidon’s gills were aching and his lungs were burning by the time he leaned against the door. But he didn’t care, they had made it back, he had remained in control. How, he didn’t know, yet he was thanking Hylia above that he had been given the strength to get out before it truly had been too late.

Now; glancing down at the bewildered man he had drug behind him the whole way, now he just had to wait it out. Till Link left and he was alone to deal with the problem.

[Are you going to tell me what the hell spooked you so bad, that you had to nearly tear my arm off?] Link scowled, only exaggerating a bit as his shoulder was sore from being yanked on so roughly, but he was genuinely concerned.

Wanting to avoid talking about the current storming state of his body, Sidon staggered from the door to the nest of pillows. Dropping himself face down on the plush surface, ignoring the discomfort the weight of his head brought his crest. It was nothing compared to what the jostling water trapped under his gills did to his whole body. Stirring up that heavenly aroma only made his muscles tense as his temperature continued to rise.

Sidon groaned in discomfort and carefully rolled onto his side. Honestly, Sidon had never experienced it like this. No flashing fantasies of random people or past partners, no building pleasure, just burning need and suffocating pain. But Link was persistent as always, having followed him to the bedside and looking him over with a calculating expression. Sidon sighed and weakly spoke. “There wasn’t any danger and I’m not injured. I’m sorry for worrying you.” [That’s not what it sounds like to me.] Link said unconvinced and reached out to Sidon, only for them to shy away. But it only made Link more suspicious. [Or what it looks like to me. You’re holding your ribs, you know, and your breathing is not slowing down. Did you hit something?]

“No, I’m fine really.” Sidon began, before giving in, knowing Link wasn’t likely going to accept such an answer. “It’s a Zora thing, though very rare. It’s not harmful, it’s just... unpleasant until it passes.” He smiled, trying to cover up how bad it was affecting him.

[Is there anything that could help? Anything I can offer to ease your pain?]

“Thank you, but this problem is not so easily fixed. Whether I struggle through it or tend to the problem myself, it won’t disappear for many hours. Not unless I find the Zora who scent started this frenzy.” But then he groaned as he quickly shook his head and slapped his face. Sidon’s mind was foggy with wanting to protect, to tend to his mate’s needs. My mate, safe, mine. “No, no, I won’t. I won’t even believe that is an option. This isn’t their fault, it’s not anyone’s fault. It’s just... an odd nature in us.”

What? Link stepped closer, surprising Sidon from the sudden approach and drawing in his attention. [What do you mean frenzy? I thought you couldn’t smell anything?]

The questions came flying out so fast he nearly missed them. Sidon sat up quickly, but to also put the distance back between them. He had control, but he didn’t want to test his luck. “Oh, not the bloodlust kind that some creatures get from the scent of blood! It’s not-- it's.” His face grew almost as red as his scales, but no matter how embarrassing, how humiliating, he wanted to be honest with Link. “Just an overpowering need for a... mate. But it doesn’t have to be permanent, I’ve had someone help before and we’ve never wanted anything more than to quell the urge.”

It was so explicitly clear, the type of suffering that Sidon was going through. For a mate and to be mated. The prince was just like M and the other Zora was just like the hero.

Damn it, Sidon had been triggered by Link’s fever, by his scent. He hadn’t covered it with mint, not that it would have remained strong enough after going for a swim during the witching hour. But why? What reason could Sidon have to lie about his sense of smell? In a mix of betrayal and shame, he asked. [Can’t you smell them now?]

“Only what is left clinging to my gills.” And he managed to hold his tongue before he let it slip that he could still taste it.

So, there it was. Not a lie, but not the truth either. He could not pick up on Link’s scent; or any other, out of the water. Sidon did not realize who was the cause of his current state. The reason why his body burned and ached. Sidon looked like he was in utter agony; and while Link couldn’t offer a suppressant, he wanted to do what he could to help him. [Do you want your partner from before? I can go get them.]

“That’s... complicated, I can’t just-” His mind turned black as he tried to recall why, the memories of them no longer had words and quickly faded away in static. Only for Sidon to return suddenly to the current situation and remembered the desires he had for the Hylian man before him.

“But I wish, I could lose myself in you instead.” Sidon was mortified that he had said it out loud. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. N-not that I wouldn’t want too, just. Oh, Hylia.” He shut himself up with a hand slapped over his rambling lips. He was only digging himself a deeper grave and further riling himself up at the same time.

If all it took was for Sidon to hold someone to release himself from the fever, that was easy enough. [You can.] He had been willing to lay with Sidon before with less thought, and without the instinct. And now that he knew that Sidon was like M and had also been with someone like Link, it brought him more comfort knowing that he would be more likely accepted by Sidon.

“Wait, hold on! I-I never intended to-- nor will attempt to enter you!” Sidon flailed as he tried to clear up his intentions. “Our differences in size make, um, that option far too dangerous for you. I don’t want to put your body at risk over something like that.” Though the train of thought did not help his predicament. Groaning as the ache only became more painful and his claws tore into the pillows. “There are other ways. I meant ‘lose myself in you’ as an expression...”

[You still can, I’m saying it’s fine.] For Link, the potion took the physical edge off, but it didn’t stop the thought that he could also satisfy his own need. Part of him was curious if spending time with a partner would bring his own fever to an end sooner.

“Link, you are tough, b-but that, this is different.”

[I don’t think it will be a problem with how I am now.] But as Sidon only looked at him in confusion, Link decided to try one last thing before being blunt. Stepping onto the bed, it brought him to be just a little taller than Sidon as he sat. Then as he leaned in, Sidon must have gotten the impression that Link was going to kiss him and he quickly turned his head away.

The Hylian had been right, if he was closer, it was there. While Link had to be just a breath away from Sidon’s neck from how faint it was, he could still pick up a scent. Delicate, yet gave him unbelievable hunger and yearning for a small bite. But even with the burst of heat throughout his body, he staggered back to face Sidon’s bewilderment from being sniffed. [If my body doesn’t bother you, you can lose yourself in me as you wish.]

It only took a moment before Sidon figured it all out, then the prince’s body stiffened and his eyes wandered over the other. “The reason you were so worried about my sense of smell. It-it was you? Oh, Hylia. It is you.” Mine, my mate! Sidon reached out to cup Link’s face, though in his sudden haste, his claws scratched their cheek. No! Sidon then retracted from the action just as fast, though Link didn’t even flinch. “Sorry, it’s hard to resist these...” He fumbled on the words as he tried to stop the shaking of his body.

[I know.] Even though the elixir was still in effect, Link was aware that his body was reacting differently, changing with the new situation of having someone unbonded present. Just another thing he would have to take into account in making a true suppressant. As it was getting harder not to throw himself at him. To get more of that wonderful scent, to feel the warmth of his scales, to feel Sidon’s embrace. Here, safe.

[I’m the same, but you still haven’t given a clear answer.] Because if Sidon didn’t want this now, it wasn’t a huge problem for Link. It was as simple as getting another potion and sitting out in the cold rain till dawn. But Sidon was well aware of his own situation without a partner. [It’s your choice, big guy.] Agreeing would fulfill both their instincts, stopping the torment and the pain. But Sidon was worried, scared that he would hurt Link. He had cut his cheek just from wanting to kiss him. It would not take much for a Zora to tear into a Hylian’s thin hide if he wasn’t careful. Without dulled claws, without a muzzle; it was dangerous. “I want too, I want to hold you. But.”

This time, Sidon reached out for his armour and grabbed the silver tassets before looking Link in the eye. “Only if you keep your armour on. I want this, but I will not risk hurting you from losing myself to the frenzy.”

Link smiled softly and gave a nod, whatever Sidon wanted. Yet, Link had elixirs if an accident happened so he wasn’t worried about injury.

However, he may have underestimated the power of his fever. Because as Sidon dove in for a kiss, pushing him down into the bed and the Zora’s deep rumble began; Link was trembling. Shaking, as it only took a few heated moments for his fever to overrule the last of the suppressant’s hold, as his body sings and his mind crumbles away.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

Sidon's jaw was starting to ache from clenching his teeth, because he still felt... Anxious? Severed? Incomplete? He couldn't find the right word for it. Though as he cracked an eye open, he was greeted by a surprisingly beautiful treasure. A slowly swaying light that he had seen all his life dancing along the bottom of his home; was glowing before him. But in a brilliant blue that a Zora could only dream of having. As yellow and gold were; after all, Zora colours.

“Could you be any more perfect, Link?” Sidon sighed in awe and softly ran his fingers over the glowing marks of Link’s soul. Though with the density of the armour, the glow underneath it was barely noticeable. Leaving the clear display to just Link’s head and the torn spaces.

His heart stopped in horror; torn spaces. These cuts in the blue layer, they curved around Link’s upper thighs and hips. Without a doubt Sidon knew that he had been the cause of the damage and while there was no wounds or blood, he had a feeling that Link had taken a tonic after cleaning the mess. “Damn, why am-”

Though the man in his arms shifted and began to blink the sleep from his eyes. With guilt now heavy on his conscience, Sidon pulled away from Link and sat up. “Sorry.”

[You didn’t wake me.]

“No, I am sorry I hurt you.” His gaze fixed on the evidence.

Link paused to look down and then sat up, pulling a pillow into his lap in a bad attempt to cover it up. Though he smiled awkwardly, having an odd moment of shyness. Normally he would be unbothered by his skin showing; but from knowing that they had shared a fever and this was done during such an intimate act, it felt different. [You owe me a new pair of Zora greaves.] Link teased as his smile became more of a smirk.

Sidon understood Link was trying to brush it to the side. “How bad was I-- I don’t remember wounding you.” A common side effect of a frenzy, recalling lewd bits and pieces. But overall, barely anything and just left with the feeling of his instincts satisfied.

His expression lost luster, but it was still reassuring and kind. [Nothing that I couldn’t handle. But when my head cleared, you were already tending to my injuries. You don’t remember that?] Sidon shook his head, though he was glad that he had enough sense to do something for Link.

Link could tell Sidon was beating himself up over it and that was the last thing he wanted. [It wasn’t that bad, honest and I only took the potion because you kept fussing over it. I...] He rubbed his neck as his soul brightened, like it was the one blushing. And then, despite the embarrassment, Link gave a shy smile and said. [I was mostly sore. But it felt good... Really good, from what I remember.]

“Oh.” Was all the surprised Zora managed to say at first, before his grief suddenly turned into bashful delight. “Um, I’m glad. It was the same for me, from what little I recall, it felt good.”

There was a brief pause before they shared in a round of awkward, yet happy chuckles. In the end, that was really all that mattered. That they were okay and that they enjoyed some part of it.

[I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it.] Link’s nervousness showed in the slight tremble of his hands.

“About you being a high primal? It’s alright, I didn’t tell you about myself either.” Sidon said as he opened his arms and Link moved to settle in the embrace, grateful to the welcoming contact. “We’ll just have to be more honest from here on out.”

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

Thankfully, obtaining replacement trousers had been simple and did not require any confrontation with anyone. They were not part of the Zora armour, but the colour was almost identical and that was all Link wanted. Not that Sidon hadn’t offered to get him the official garb, but the warrior had insisted that he could repair the one he had later. With the plated armour over top, one would hardly notice unless they were paying attention to it.

Not that anyone was given the time too.

With all of his things packed into his saddle bag, Link waited at the end of the guest hall as twilight became dawn. Waiting for Zelda to make her way to have breakfast with the royal Zora family. When she did step out, she was surprised, but frowned and said nothing.

As Zelda walked past, she placed the Sheikha slate in his open hand and then continued on her way.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

As for Sidon, in the process of getting rid of ruined bedding, cleaning up and putting stuff away. He was gifted with a sign that things were going back to normal. For tucked into the mane of his plush was a folded note and upon reading it, Sidon smiled.

You should stick to Octoroks. Fighting a Lynel this early is more of my style of a morning workout.

I'll write again soon, till then take care, big guy.

-Link

<<–Previous Chapter-^-Next Chapter–>>

#SidLink #a/b/o verse #Mpreg #Primal FF #Written Work #Rated M #Rated R

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gerbiloftriumph · 5 years

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Captive Crown

(also on ao3)

Someone wanted the newly crowned King of Daventry and all his friends dead. Someone got close, once.

(warnings for the whole thing: kidnapping, bruising, starvation, nightmares, healthy dosage of angsty musing, sicfic, story-coherent vehicle for all my favorite ch2 headcanons)

~*~*~

2/7

(1: to steal)(2: to hide)(3: to seek)(4: to find)(5: to break)(6: to mend)(7: to heal, and to end)

~*~*~

There was a city beneath Daventry.

This wasn’t surprising. Graham had heard stories about all kinds of things living in the tunnels beneath his country. Elves and leprechauns and dwarves and giant spiders and more. He’d even met some of them, back when he’d been looking for the kingdom’s lost treasures.

Still, the leprechaun city had been positively tiny compared to this city’s sprawling chaos. The goblins hurried him along meandering streets overshadowed by drunkenly teetering buildings. Lights sparkled in odd places, lamps and a wild assortment of colored fungi illuminating the cavern darkness like little stars.

It might have been pretty, from a distance, were he not distracted by the ache in his shoulders and wrists and head, and were he not shepherded along by spears, and were it not so gloomy and the company not so grim and…well, all told, it wasn’t pretty at all.

They moved from the open caverns into something that felt much smaller and contained. This new area was guarded by thick, heavy doors—which slammed behind them the instant the last goblin was through.

Startled, Graham whirled, but he tripped over the nearest goblin’s foot, and he fell hard, unable to throw his hands out to catch his balance. He groaned, trying to sit up and finding it difficult with his hands tied like they were behind him. Over his head, his captors grumbled a brief conversation that he didn’t understand, filled with lots of irritated pointing at him, at the room, at the doors. After a minute, they reached for him—he flinched back, alarmed—but they only untied him. He rubbed and rolled his aching shoulders and wrists, curling forward. One of the spear-holders gestured, and hands clamped on his arms and yanked.

“Wait a second,” he muttered, swaying to his feet. A sharp twinge in his hip made him gasp, and he pressed a palm to it, leaning into the pain.

Another gesture, this time with spear prodding into his side. Graham raised his hands. “Please.” They pointed toward the tunnel on the far end of the room. “I—I understand.” He wasn’t sure they understood him back, but once he started walking, arms wrapped tight across his chest, they calmed down.

He tried to focus, tried to memorize details that would surely help later. Failed. This was too overwhelming. It was too dark, and it smelled all wrong, and his shoulders and head and now his hip hurt, and even after all this he still didn’t know what they wanted.

Despite himself, Graham could sense that there were additional tunnels branching from their spiraling route, but he couldn’t make out much more than gloomy shadows. With his vision less than useful, though, he could hear more. The shuffle of his boots, and his guards’ lighter, padding steps, and someone crying, not too far away. He hesitated—it sounded distressingly familiar—but his captors shoved him deeper into the caves.

Eventually, they ran out of corridor and halted. Most of the guard scurried away, leaving him with a small contingent of goblins. Still too many to attempt escape, especially with those spears tilted just enough to slash him if he dared try. He could hear something growling behind one of the barred doors along the hall, and behind him something was breathing raggedly, like it was sick, maybe dying. He stared into nothing, nausea and frustration hot in the pit of his empty stomach.

Was anyone looking for him yet? Did they realize anything was wrong? Or did they think he was just walking the forests? In the rain? What moron went wandering off in the rain? Oh, right, me. What about Olfie? Had he heard Graham scream, or had the rain muffled it?

Rhythmic thumping echoed down the ramp. Like footfalls, but much, much heavier, resounding along the halls. Something big. He itched to have his archery kit, clenching and unclenching his fists like he was holding a bow and not empty air. No one around him seemed to be reacting, though. He could do nothing but wait with growing dread.

In the end, it turned out to be just another goblin in some sort of ridiculous self-propelled cart. Graham blinked. The goblin clutched a book close to its chest. Perhaps it was some sort of scribe? Did goblins have a written language? Shouldn’t Graham know about this already via some dusty Peoples of Daventry manual or something?

The newcomer turned pages delicately, ignoring the captive, until it settled on a page with an illustrated king. Graham could just see the little painted crown, and he felt his own crown’s weight more than ever. The goblin glanced up at Graham for the first time, for a mere scrutinizing instant, and then with a sharp nod it slammed the book shut and wheeled around and left.

And that was it. Not a single word had been exchanged, no explanations given, no questions asked, no decisions spoken, or orders made, or anything at all. He gaped after it, baffled.

So he was already off balance when his guards seized him and yanked—he collapsed in a scrambled heap, too startled to protest. And then they lifted him upside down, gripping his legs, standing on each other to get enough height that his face didn’t hit the floor, and they shook him wildly until he thought his legs might snap off. A literal shakedown. He desperately clutched the crown on his head, refusing to let it fall and dent, but he couldn’t do anything about his pockets. He wasn’t carrying much today: a couple of old coins with King Edward’s face printed on them, scraps of paper with scribbled notes from an earlier addenda study session, pocket fluff, and his feathered cap. It all knocked loose into a little pile beneath him.

Once the hat fell, they dropped him, along with all their apparent interest in him, to pounce on the hat. Like kids fascinated by a new toy. They passed it around, cramming it on top of their masks, and imitating Graham’s long limbed, swinging gait.

Frustration finally overcame fear. He’d been given nothing, no explanations or instructions, and now they were fighting over his hat with his mother’s feather in it, and he was tired and sore and done. “That’s it!” he snapped. “Who’s in charge here?” He cleared his throat, trying to sound intimidating: “I demand to speak to your king!” They had a king. He knew they did. Surely, king to king, they could work out something.

They glanced at each other, glanced at Graham, then jumped him. Again. He went down easily under their weight, flailing. They caught his arms and legs and pulled and twisted and got him on his back, their rock-hard hands gripping too tight. He fought and kicked and achieved nothing. They swung him back and forth through the air, laughing like they were still playing a game, and with one coordinated motion, they flung him through the nearest dark opening in the rock wall. He hit something solid at the same time a door slammed behind him and a lock snapped home.

There wasn’t a trace of light here—they may as well have thrown a blanket over his head. He lay on the ground, staring into the darkness and growing increasingly suspicious that it was staring back, when he realized water was soaking into the back of his clothes. Yelping, he scrambled up, feet swishing in half an inch of water. Clean? Dirty? Cold. He wrapped his arms around his chest, hugging tight, as though that could make it better. It didn’t help.

“Hello?” he called. He hated how thin his voice sounded, how weak he must seem to whatever was in here. He stepped forward and immediately barked his shin on whatever he’d hit when he’d first been chucked in here.

A squeak came from the dark.

“What was that?” Images of rats wouldn’t get out his head. Big, fanged, plague-riddled, wild, angry things. He bit back a shivery squeak of his own and nervously hummed a few fragmented notes of some half-forgotten song instead, desperate to fill the sucking emptiness of the room.

Something began to glow, the faintest touch of blue. It seemed to like the broken melody, whatever it was. He stepped forward gingerly, lost in the fractured chorus, and jarred his side against a protruding pipe. His song cut short. That’s gonna bruise. The blue glow dimmed, but it didn’t go out. Cautiously, hands outstretched, he fumbled toward it, the sole pinprick of light in this place.

Some sort of lizard?

It jumped down, skittered between his feet, hurried to the far wall. Maybe the room wasn’t that big after all. Feeling a little more courageous, he tripped his way over, this time remembering the pipe (he banged his elbow against a different pipe). Again, it squeaked and bolted, tail cutting a wave through the puddles of water. But as it climbed the far wall, he thought he saw—

His breath caught in his throat, and he staggered back, iron pipes ringing against him, trembling hands clapped over his mouth, but he couldn’t silence the whimpers through his chattering teeth.

Dragon.

It was so close. It was right there. He had no defense. No place to hide. No way to outwit something so close. Couldn’t even see where it had gone. It could be sneaking up on him now and he couldn’t see it in the dark, its teeth glistening with saliva, fire curdling in its belly—fire hot enough to melt armor, to kill a friend, to kill him, right there.

Finally, some miserable, silent eternity later, he forced himself to think, It can’t be real. It’s not. “I’m fine,” he told himself sternly. At least, he wished he sounded stern. His voice cracked. “I’m fine.”

After another minute or two, he had to give himself a royal command to walk. Even then, all he could do was crab sideways along the wall, feeling desperately for some break in the stone, some way to slide out of this pitch-black hell and the bleak memories it contained. His foot bounced against something glassy. Grateful for the distraction, he managed to scoop it up. Some jar with a lid, maybe? Steeling his spine, he felt around inside, but it was free of all peeled grape eyeballs and noodle intestines. He found nothing but air. Empty.

Okay. Let’s make a lantern.

Graham had a vague sense of the room layout now, and he slipped up behind that glowing thing, humming those few silly bars of song under his breath. It didn’t move, and he slammed the jar over it triumphantly. “Ha! Got ya!” He held it close to his face and stared at it. It stared back, flicking its tail in irritation. Well, only one name could be given to a glowing newt. “I shall call you Newton,” he pronounced, beaming, enormously pleased with this one tiny success after what was surely one of the top three worst days of his life.

It opened its mouth and screamed. He nearly dropped the jar.

Light burst around him, dozens of glowing salamanders answering Newton. Truly, it was only a halfhearted sparkle, not much better than a moonlit night, but after the complete darkness it made all the difference. He sagged, both relieved to find the room dragon free and upset to discover that it was a proper cell with barred door, four very solid walls, and no way out. Twisting pipes snaked in and out of the stone, ending in some sort of drain that was far too small to do anything escape-y with—it was struggling just to drain the water dripping down the rocks. Water pooled around his ankles and marked every step with a splash. The salamanders had kicked up some fungus and it was glowing, little motes of colored light drifting in the air.

He gently put Newton’s jar on the large stone block in the middle of the room (a table, complete with molding tablecloth, charming) before turning to glare at the door. It was quiet out there, and he had no idea how much time had passed while he’d been paralyzed by the thought of dragons, but surely the goblins hadn’t all left. They’d leave at least a guard, right?

He pounded against the splintery wood. “Hey! You can’t do this to me!” Pause, then, “Okay, fair enough, you did.” He gripped the bars and craned his neck, trying to see around the corner. “Are you listening?” He shook the door, kicked it, and waited. No response. The hall was deserted. “I demand someone get over here!”

His stomach grumbled. He pressed a hand to his belly, frowning. “’Problem with dinner; care to reorder?’” he muttered. “Great.” He’d barely picked at his lunch, either; butterflies in his stomach had overwhelmed him, and he’d ducked out to read more of that official paperwork he was expected to know. Regret panged almost as sharply as his hunger.

“You can’t treat me like this! I am the King of Daventry, and I demand to have respect! And—and also, I demand someone be here to listen. Is anyone out there? Hello?” Graham pushed on the door, staring out and hoping for something to look back (as long as it was helpful and holding a key and wasn’t full of fangs and drool). “Anyone? Goblins? Please?”

Something growled from down the hall, low and throaty and promising all sorts of pain if he didn’t shut up. He let his hand fall against his side, lamely. “Okay. Okay, that’s fine. I’m fine. I’m…ohhkay.”

He sank against the stone table, staring at the bolts and bars in front of him. They meant to keep him. He didn’t know for how long, or for what, or anything at all. Whoever that creature in the chair had been had given him such a strange, appraising look, comparing him with a child’s picture book of all things. Against the little illustrated king with its little painted crown. His own crown pressed against his forehead, and he eased it off with both hands, staring at the jewels. At his reflection. He told himself it was just the distortion of the gems that made him look so drawn out and frazzled. A proper king would be keeping his composure in a situation like this. Definitely.

It’s a puzzle, Graham. Find a way out.

If it could just be that easy.

#this should be more or less the only time it feels like such a one-to-one game expansion sequence #King's Quest #kings quest #King Graham #goblin appreciation blog #ch2 #fic'ing

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btsimaginefactory · 6 years

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At the Beach with BTS - Moodboards and Scenarios

{{i’m sorry that these are messy but it was so hard trying to paint the picture without the board looking too busy and iM SORRY. It’s less “oo aesthetics” and more that these are to give you pics for your mind. But I hope you’re still into this💖}}

Seokjin

“Are you happy?”

You smile gently at Seokjin words, twining your fingers with his as you both sit on the riverbank. More than a dozen stripped box turtles, all in various sizes and ages, paddle cutely at the edge, waiting for more pieces of carrots to be throw from their generous new friends. “I am so happy Seokjin.”

Seokjin’s smile gleams in the light of the sunset, and he leans to kiss you on your temple. He’d wanted to go to the beach with you for a long time, and now you finally had the time. Seokjin rented a house situated strategically between the secluded shoreline and the marsh. What had drawn him to this beach was the privacy, yes, but it was also the beautiful variation of landscapes and an abundant amount of wildlife. In the morning you watched wild horses play on the beach from your balcony, naming each one and giving them elaborate back stories, narrating their interactions. Seokjin was startled by how close they came to the house and how at peace they seemed living side by side with humans.

Almost every afternoon was spent under the umbrella on the sand with packed lunches; idly fishing for minnows before letting them free again as you watch the vibrant sunset over the horizon, and nights spent counting endless stars.

“Listen I’m telling you, THAT one is the big dipper,” you stress.

“No, it’s not because that star should be over there if it’s the big dipper!”

“...Jin you can’t just move stars around to prove yourself right.”

Several days the two of you went to local shops, exploring all the beautiful and wacky things you could find. He was especially drawn to a hobby shop that had all kinds of intricately made sculptures from shells and driftwood. Seokjin commented that he liked he couldn’t find any two alike, and in that same way he could never find someone exactly like you who he loved so much. A slap is quickly delivered to his arm at his gushy words, making him laugh, but getting a kiss from you in the end.

Yoongi

“Yoongi you do realize coming to the beach in the winter kind of defeats the purpose of coming to the beach,” you sigh, looking out the sliding glass doors of your hotel room overlooking the ocean shore. He’s already outstretched on the giant king-sized bed, humming in satisfaction when you come and kick his leg.

“Ow sheesh,” he exclaims, eyes meeting your crestfallen face. “Okay well, I did in fact plan this very carefully and invested many hours to make things perfect.”

He rolls over and leans down to his bag, pulling out some pieces of paper and holding them in front of his gummy grin. You have to squint, but the bright letters of a pamphlet for a well know indoor water park is undeniable.

“NO WAY,” you gasp, snatching them out of his hands and rifling through the packet. “Are you serious?”

He nods.

“Really really? As in you’re actually gonna play with me and not be a lazy potato chip?”

“I am! I promise,” he laughs. “Why do you think I spent so much time picking stuff out for us to do? Don’t you see the view,” he gestures dramatically at the balcony. You can’t help but laugh and pull his cheeks in for a kiss, making him look very pleased.

Yes it was true you’d agreed to go to the beach with Yoongi during the dead of winter, but the surprise and lively atmosphere you found was exactly what the two of you needed. The hotel was connected to the water park by an indoor bridge, and surprisingly, Yoongi cared the giant inflatable unicorn proudly each day, bopping you in the head with it constantly. After swimming and playing, and him throwing you down one to many insane waterslides, you crash in the hotel room with warm comfort, room service, and movies.

Yoongi kisses your forehead and smiled as you lay in his arms. “So should we do the same thing tomorrow or should we go see some of the other things around here?”

Hoseok

When you were looking for a place to rent at a nearby beach online, Hoseok was immediately drawn to the strip of brightly colored buildings on the boardwalk. “Let’s go there! That’s so pretty! And there’ll be lots of places to go.” And so you did, spending loads of time in different shops, buying way too many souvenirs, and an equal time relaxing on the beach.

It was probably a bad idea to suggest a sandcastle building competition because 3 hours later you realized you’d both spent the whole day building a mini-utopia; giving up the competition after signing a treaty to no more sand thrown and opting instead to build your own joined kingdoms. Hoseok desperately tried to save one crumbling wall as the tide came in, but sank to his knees in defeat, promptly having a wave crash over his head from behind as if to add insult to injury. He comes crying to you as you laugh at his dripping wet, salty face, but is sure to trap you in a hug to get you wet as well.

“Baby how about we just shower and order takeout,” he suggests when you arrive at the condo, panting after climbing the 3 flights of stairs.

“How can you be tired from that, you literally can dance nonstop for way longer,” you huff, throwing a towel in his face.

After taking a soothing shower together, the two of you crash on the bed with your take out and TV, while finding all the little red areas you missed with sunscreen where each of you were now burned. “See I told you-you should have put some behind your ears,” he scolds and you simply cover his face with your hands.

“Shh, shh, shh, don’ worry ‘bout it.”

Namjoon

It was the best surprise you’ve ever gotten in your life. When you told Namjoon you were staying at the beach with your family, expressing that you wished he could be there to experience it with you, he decided to do just that. After secret communications with your family, seemingly out of the blue he shows up at your door and you almost knock him over completely in your enthusiastic hug. You introduce him formally to your family, and they immediately like him, if only by the way you glowed around him. They realize quickly he must be an incredible person and one who was absolutely good for you.

Being able to share this important time with him was everything; watching him grow comfortable with everyone, and hiding in embarrassment at all the stories they spilled from your childhood; everything felt so at home about him. The next day you were dragging him out of bed much too early to spend it all with him on the beach. Needless to say he was terrified when you warned him about not swimming in the ocean because of sharks, but he excitedly dug for sand-fiddlers and mole crabs, putting them in a bucket and examining them before letting them free again. That very evening, you two were lucky enough to watch sea turtles hatch, lining up with the other people watching, and giving them a protected path to the ocean as Namjoon squeals in delight.

Every night was filled with good meals and laughter, playing in the heated pool under the stars, and cuddling up in bed sharing stories, relishing that you had him there in the flesh. He pushes your hair behind your ear as he cradles you in his arms. “I wish I could stay here with you forever.”

“Me too Namjoon,” you say with a sad smile, trying not to even think of this time together ending.

“But we will soon.”

Jimin

It wasn’t Jimin’s most favorite idea when you told him you had booked a shared home at the beach; he didn’t know if he felt comfortable staying with strangers. It was an older couple who, after their children grew up and left, opened up a section of their house for travelers so they could share this place with people from all around the world. Jimin agrees though, and in only a few hours of being there, he was so glad that he did.

When you arrive at the bungalow nestled in the seaside forest, the couple takes you on a tour around the house, and more importantly, outside on one of the many trails. After getting over that initial little bit of awkwardness, you and Jimin didn’t turn down a single activity they suggested, for all of them were so perfectly new and exciting. You slowly watched Jimin come out of his shell, bouncing around like the happy, adventurous boy you loved. His favorite part was kayaking through the marsh and inlet, canopied by tall, vibrant trees, and hundreds of different species of birds chattering amongst the reeds.

“Woah look at that one,” Jimin yells in a hushed voice, pointing at a bright white, gangly crane fishing at the bank. “Did you see how it just snapped it’s beak in there and grabbed the fish? It was so fast, like whoosh! I could probably do that.”

“... Jimin what are you even saying?”

“It’s because you don’t believe in me, that's why I can’t grab a fish out of the water with my bare hand.”

You have to stop your eyes from rolling all the way back into your head as he giggles. When you return to the house, you’re all gathered around a fire pit in the backyard to eat dinner, eagerly telling the couple all about where you were from. You fall asleep on his shoulder as you lay beneath the stars, peacefully breathing in the salty air and wondering what tomorrow will bring.

Taehyung

“Greece?!”

“Greece!”

You can only pause. “Greece?”

Taehyung nods in confirmation. “Greeeeeece!” He’d seen a picture float across the internet somewhere of this beautiful resort, and he immediately knew he had to take you. Taehyung is one who is always ready for an adventure and travel, so he expects you to be the same. The resort is at the foot of a mountain, the bright blue sea as a backdrop, making the large sanded smooth white buildings look majestic and nothing short of magical. You have a cabin to yourselves, one in front of a small private pool that glowed purple in the evening; one that you convinced him to go skinny dipping in. It’s easy to have fun with Taehyung, even in a foreign place, but he takes special care to make the trip especially romantic and appreciative. He pampers you like royalty and announces that you are going to be his official model for all his pictures he had yet to take.

“Wow you are a natural,” Taehyung chuckles as he snaps a picture of you posed beneath a twisted tree. “I didn’t even have to tell you what to do.”

“Practice makes perfect I suppose, and so does such a handsome teacher,” you say, pecking his lips. The day is spent on the sand under a large tent, and yes you did have to wait before starting to drink your fancy drink because he wanted to photograph it all, but with his cute grin how could you say no?

Jungkook

“Jungkook don’t you think this is a bit much,” you ask, setting your bag down in the foyer just as Jungkook runs past you around the expansive dining room.

“No no of course not! We’re only young once; when else would we have this opportunity? Come on,” he grabs your hand and pulls you along, peeking in every room as if looking for something. After ‘oo-ing’ and ‘aw-ing’ at the bright coral walls and happy paintings, you head downstairs to find perhaps the biggest reason your boyfriend rented this particular beach house.

“Oh my gosh now I get it,” you say, holding the bridge of your nose but getting equally excited as you’re greeted with a giant arcade room. A flat screen tv, new video games as well as classic arcade games, a ping pong table, and even a pool table were all sitting shiny and tempting and Jungkook is giggling like a kid in a candy store.

You barely have time to reach him before his eyes meet something outside the window in the backyard. “Oh. My. Gosh. There’s a jet ski,” he whispers, instantly bolting towards the door with you yelling behind him.

“Jungkook for God’s sake please don’t kill yourself!!”

You’d thought it was a little wasteful to rent a three-story house with 8 bedrooms for only the two of you, but he quickly washes away your worries with the private pool and access to the dock with a jet ski and kayaks, as well as running around the large house and screaming your lungs out just because there was no one there to stop you. The house was at the end of a small, private cul de sac, and a mere golf cart ride to the shore. It was quieter than you would’ve imagined you’d enjoy, but as you sit on the crows nest overlooking the inlet, watching Jungkook photograph the sunset, you couldn’t imagine anywhere else on earth you’d rather be.

{{I’ve actually experienced three of these imagines AND IF YOU CAN CORRECTLY GUESS WHICH THREE, YOU GET *spins roulette wheel anxiously* ... ah... ha ha... apparently to punch me in the d💫}}

-Admin Chaejeong

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velkynkarma · 7 years

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How about some Coran appreciation? Like maybe he gets sick or injured, or just has to leave for a trip, and everyone realizes just how much he does around the castle and how much they need him. Or he reveals some hidden skill and blows the kids away. Or someone just thinks of him and gives him a gift for no reason. Including Lance would be bonus, but whatever you want to write will be great, I'm sure.

Happy Birthday Maychorian :) Here is a prompt given on one birthday and returned on another. It is a double-birthday fic that has absolutely 0% to do with birthdays but I hope you enjoy it :) With Bonus-Lance because why not amirite.The Castle of Lions is under attack.Lance still has no idea how the Galra even got on the ship. They’re in the middle of space, and they left the last Galra-occupied planet two quintents ago. Galra never seem to excel when it comes to patience; Lance doubts they could have been stowaways for that long. How’d they even get in? Well, he admits to himself, as he runs down one of the hallways with bayard in hand, that’s probably not as weird a question. Ulaz had gotten in too easily enough back at the xanthorium cluster. And Sendak had just walked right in, from what he hears. Maybe it’s just a Galra thing, getting through locked doors. Hell, even Keith’s done it.

Thinking of the red paladin makes Lance wince. He has no idea where the rest of the team is. The Galra had attacked all of a sudden all over the ship, while everyone had been split up and enjoying some much-needed downtime. Lance had been just coming back from a swim in the pool—he wasn’t anywhere near the ziplines or the Blue Lion’s hangar, which meant he didn’t have his armor. Hell, he only had his bayard on him because Allura had drilled it into all their heads to have it on them at all times, and he’d taken to habitually stuffing it in one of his jacket pockets. He’s lucky he’s armed, at least, but he has no idea where the backup is. Keith might be in the training deck, and if he’s lucky Shiro’s sparring with him, but that’s six floors and lots of Galra soldiers and sentries away. He can guess Pidge might be in the Green Lion’s hangar, but the Green Lion can’t help much in a Castle invasion, and that’s a long way down besides. Hunk might be in the kitchen, that’s five floors in the other direction. And he has no idea where Coran or Allura could have been when the attack struck; they disappear into distant halls and floors of the Castle all the time. He doesn’t even know where the mice might be, to act as guides.Just gotta stay safe and regroup with somebody, Lance tells himself. Stay alive and try to get to the others to help. Easier said than done, though. There’s Galra everywhere—not just the robotic sentries either, but a bunch of actual flesh and blood soldiers. Many of them are armed with swords, or their own blasters, and they usually travel in groups. Lance has got the home team advantage and sort of knows the terrain better than the enemy does, but the Castle is still huge and he could just as easily get lost in parts of it.Still, he does what he can, ducking into rooms to hide, and firing his bayard to take down groups two or three if he has the element of surprise. He doesn’t want to do anything too risky, though, not when he’s not armored. In the blue paladin’s uniform he can take a bit of a beating, and he has his energy shield if things get hairy. In his jacket, jeans and sneakers, all he’s got is his aim and his own wits. He makes for the kitchen. Of all the places he might find one of his friends, that’s the closest, and even if Hunk’s not there, it’s a decent hub for movement. Maybe somebody else will be heading there, or maybe he can sneak through and get to another likely location. But Lance realizes when he reaches the doorway to the dining hall that maybe he’s made a mistake. He’ll need to go through it to get to the kitchen and the other hallways beyond, but the dining hall is big. It’s big, and it’s open, without very many places to hide. He’ll be very visible the moment he steps in there, and there’s no turning back.Lance bites his lip, and glances over to one side of the dining room. He can see one of the panels leading to the ducts and wiring in there, and grumbles to himself. Pidge is probably already squirreling through them to sneak ninja-style wherever she needs to go, but she’s small enough to actually manage it. Lance could probably squeeze himself into one, but it’d be a bit tight, and he wouldn’t be able to use his bayard well if he needed it. And that harrowing drop from the elevator shaft still gives him chills.He sighs. Just do it, he coaches himself. Just run in. Run across, get to the kitchens, check for Hunk, regroup if you can, and move on. Go! He glances around the room one last time—still thankfully empty—and bolts.He makes it about halfway across the room when the shooting starts. The first blast gets close enough to put a quarter-sized hole in his hoodie, and he yelps in alarm. Without armor, those things can kill him pretty much instantly if they get a lucky shot in. He dives beneath the dining room table, in between a pair of high-backed Altean dining chairs, and awkwardly squirms around to take stock of his attackers.There’s three sentries by one of the entrances. All three have blasters in their hands, all of which are leveled at the table. They stop closer even as they fire, and several of the blasts chew holes in the table’s edges and in the surrounding chairs.Coran’s gonna kill me, Lance groans at the damage. If I live that long. Beneath the table is not really the most ideal place to shoot from—there’s not much cover, and it’s a weird angle to shoot at. The alternative is dying, though, so Lance scoots forward enough to return fire, and blasts the hell out of the three sentries. He’s grazed by another shot, but he manages to take down the three robots before they can get near him. “That’s what you get,” he crows, a little shakily—but a victory’s a victory. He glances a little mournfully at his torn jacket sleeve, though. He’ll have to see if Coran has anything to mend it with later. He likes this jacket.“There’s the rat!”There’s an awful crashing noise as the entire table is uprooted from the ground and smashed over on its side, exposing Lance to open air. Lance yelps in alarm, but before he can so much as try to make a break for it, a clawed hand snags around his ankle and whips him free from between the chairs. Lance screeches in surprise and fear as he’s dragged back forcibly and thrown through the air. There’s a sharp pain in his lower leg, and he hears the ripping of cloth. Then he grunts as, with a dull thud, he hits the floor and rolls, gradually skidding to a stop. There’s a clattering noise nearby, and Lance manages to blink his vision back into focus to see his bayard—back to handheld form, at least ten feet away from him.Oh. Oh, crap, that’s not good.Lance scrambles to get to his feet, but winces when his right foot won’t quite take his weight. There’s a sharp pain, and when he glances down his shoe and the bottom of his jeans are all bloody from what appears to be a set of claw marks. Oh, that’s really not good.“Pathetic,” the same voice from before growls. Lance glances up in alarm, and spies his assailants—two flesh and blood Galra soldiers, getting ever closer. One looks like a standard soldier in uniform, but the other is one of those Galra officers that’s built like a damn tank, too tall to be fair and made entirely out of muscle. One of his clawed hands drips red, and Lance winces as his leg seems to throb in response. “They aren’t so strong when they don’t have their precious armor and their precious Lions, are they?” the massive Galra adds, getting closer. “I can break this one’s neck with one hand.” Lance swallows. The Galra are too close for comfort, and he tries crab-walking backwards his bayard. Maybe, if he can just—But the Galra officer snorts contemptuously, and kicks the bayard handle away into a corner. “Can’t you even fight on your own?” he sneers. Not with you cheating like this! Lance wants to screech, but his heart his beating so hard in his throat that he can barely breathe, let alone speak. He tries backing away from the Galra in the other direction, dragging his bad leg, and his back bumps into the wall.I’m dead, Lance realizes, with a stunned sort of horror. Oh God, I’m so dead. The others are gonna find me dead in the dining room and—Oh God, Oh God—That’s when he spots a sudden rush of movement behind the two Galra soldiers as someone comes bursting out of one of the side doors, and straight for them.For a second he thinks maybe it’s one of the other paladins. But the blur of movement is too blue, and he realizes with a jolt of newfound horror that it’s Coran. It’s Coran, and he’s heading straight for the giant Galra, a furious expression on his face and what looks like a broomstick in one hand.Oh no no no, Lance thinks, horrified. He appreciates Coran’s loyalty, but he’s going to die. That Galra brute is huge, and Coran’s…Coran’s old, even by Altean standards. Hunk told Lance about how Coran had hurt his back when they were trying to help save him on the Balmera. And Allura said only older Alteans got the slipperies, for crying out loud! There’s no way Coran can take on a couple of Galra soldiers on his own, and Lance doesn’t have a weapon or mobility to help.But there’s nothing Lance can do. In the split second he has he tries to think of a solution, but he’s got nothing. If he calls out or tries to warn Coran away at all, the Galra soldiers are going to notice him, and then Coran is dead for sure. If he even indicates that he’s noticed Coran, he’ll be dead for sure. All he can do is watch with a helpless sense of dread as Coran darts in closer.Oh God, Coran’s gonna die because of me, and they’re gonna find us both dead in the dining room. I’m so sorry guys—Allura—I’m so—Coran interrupts his horrified thoughts with a war-cry. “Get away from that paladin!” he snaps—and Lance freezes, because he’s never heard Coran sound that angry and that scary before.And then Coran strikes.He swings out with the broom with a shocking degree of speed. It’s not a wild swing like a bat—Lance recognizes the form as one Allura’s used before with her stave, a precise, trained move. It hits the massive Galra right in the stomach, just beneath the plating of his armor, with a heavy thwack. The officer’s arrogance vanishes almost immediately as he doubles over with a loud whoof, caught by surprise and absolutely winded. Coran doesn’t waste a second. With another surprisingly nimble movement, he swings the makeshift stave and twists it about to come crashing down hard on the back of the big Galra’s neck, just at the base of his head. The broomstick shatters in a burst of metallic splinters, but the Galra collapses in an undignified heap to the ground, face driven into the floor and ass still sticking up in the air from where he’d dropped to his knees. Even then, the Galra groans slightly, not quite down for the count. But Coran cracks him in the head again with a precise and efficient kick, leaping forward surprisingly fast to do so. The officer grunts once, and finally goes still, unconscious. The entire take down had taken approximately five ticks, and the Galra hadn’t even known what hit him.The second, smaller Galra solider yelps in alarm and scrambles for his sword strapped to his hip. “Look out!” Lance yells—or starts to. Coran is already on it, and even disarmed, he doesn’t seem worried. He closes the five feet astonishingly fast, jabbing out with a precise, flat palm and fingers like a snake. The first strike hits the soldier in the arm hard enough to disarm him, and the second comes rapid-fire after the first, dropping the Galra’s arm uselessly to his side like it’s dislocated. Three-four-five come one after another hard enough to stun the Galra into submission, and holy crap, is that the move he’d threatened to use on Lance when he first got out of his cryo-pod? Lance can already feel his own arms and torso tingling in painful sympathy. The Galra staggers backwards, stunned and doubled forward. The soldier would normally have the advantage of height and weight, but he’s given it up inadvertently, and Coran pounces. With the Galra’s head closer to his level, Coran wastes no time wrapping one arm around his opponent’s neck, and twisting his other arm around into a holding position. The Galra struggles weakly in surprise, but he’s still stunned from Coran’s other blows, and can’t seem to free himself. And Lance can’t help but count as—one, two, three—the Galra suddenly groans and goes completely limp in Coran’s hold. Coran finally lets go, and the Galra slumps bonelessly to the ground.Sleepy-time. And holy crow, Lance can only stare, jaw dropped and eyes wide open, because—had Coran really, really done that? He’d just taken two Galra soldiers out like it was nothing! Coran is…Coran is crazy strong! Coran groans, and presses both hands to the small of his back, doubling forward a little. “Oh dear,” he mutters. “The ol’ back isn’t what it used to be. I’ve certainly had better days…” He stretches back carefully, arching his back in the other direction, and there’s a revolting series of cracking noises. Lance winces in disgust, but Coran breathes a sigh of relief. “Ah, much better. Do need to watch that.”Okay, so that had been a little…less crazy strong, but Lance had just seen him effortlessly wipe the floor with two Galra soldiers, so. He supposes Coran still gets a pass. Even if he is still the same weird kooky uncle figure he’s always been, and hasn’t just been pretending before going all crouching tiger hidden dragon. Actually, it’s sort of reassuring to know it’s still the same guy that makes them terrible inedible lunches and tells boring stories about cleaning cryo-pods.“All right, Lance?” Coran asks brightly, glancing briefly in his direction. Lance nods weakly.Seemingly reassured, Coran goes to retrieve Lance’s bayard for him from the corner, as though nothing out of the ordinary has just happened, and continues, “We’ve been wondering where you were. I managed to get in touch with most of the others with the network, but we couldn’t find you. I’ve got a rendezvous point for us if we can just—Lance? What are you staring like that for? Have I got something stuck in my mustache again?” He pauses to brush at his mustache self-consciously.“Uh, no,” Lance says, shaking his head with a blink. “It’s just—““Ah, your poor delicate human brain must have taken more damage beyond its capacity to handle,” Coran says, looking concerned now. He presses Lance’s bayard back into his hands, and crouches next to him on the floor. “We’ll have to see if we can get rid of these interlopers immediately so we can free up the cryo-pods.” For a moment Lance sees a flash of anger drift across Coran’s expression, and realizes he’s furious that any of his own have been injured.“No, no, my head’s fine,” he reassures hastily. “It’s just—how did you do that? That was amazing! You’re a total badass, Coran!”Coran blinks at him, anger and worry vanishing to be replaced by a look of sheer bewilderment. After a moment, he says, “I’m not entirely sure what my rear end or its moral capacity has to do with anything, and that seems highly inappropriate, Lance.”“What—no! It means you kicked lots of butt and were totally awesome—““Awesome?”“I…never mind.” Lance sighs. At this point, when he tells this story, no one else is going to believe him. He already doesn’t believe himself. “You must’ve been hit harder than you thought,” Coran says, reaching out to gently probe at Lance’s skull, searching expertly but carefully for signs of fracture or other damage. “You’re speaking nonsense! We’ll have to find somewhere safe to leave you while we retake the Castle—“Lance bats his hand away. “Coran! I’m fine. I’m totally fine. I didn’t even hit my head, although I don’t think I’m walking anywhere,” he says, glancing at his leg and wincing a little when it throbs. “Sorry about the blood stains on the floor, by the way.”“Never you mind that,” Coran says seriously. “I’ll clean a hundred stains without help on hands and knees with a skerzgit brush as long as it means those important to me are safe.” He pats Lance on the head once—this time in a more friendly, less medic-y way. “Let’s get you on your feet, shall we? This area should mostly be clear, but keep that bayard at the ready, just in case.”Coran slings Lance’s left arm across his shoulders and hauls him upright. Lance winces a little as his leg throbs again, but with Coran’s help he can more or less keep pressure off of it. Lance forms his bayard with his free hand as ordered, and keeps it by his side until the moment at which they might need it.“Okay,” he says. “I’m ready. Let’s go. Oh, but Coran…?” Coran hums in answer as they take their first step forward, and Lance says, “Thanks. And…man, that was really great. I didn’t even know you could do that, but you saved my life.”Coran snorts. “Haven’t you been paying attention? I demonstrated all those moves before! And if I hadn’t had a case of the ol’ sleep-chamber knees you might have been acquainted with them personally. I was quite a warrior in my prime, you know! Er, not that I’m not in my prime how, that is…”Lance is pretty sure no one else is ever going to believe his story, except maybe Allura. But the fury in Coran’s eyes and the skill in his movements had been all too real, Lance decides, and he’s pretty sure he believes it after all.

#voltron #Karma's Birthday Bash #velkynkarma writes #maychorian #happy birthday :D #lance #coran #blood #injury #did somebody ask for badass coran???

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pinkrabbitpro · 7 years

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Chasing Fog -- Chapter Fifteen -- Alex has an adventure and glimpses a new player in the game, while Cat and Kara grow closer and come to an understanding.

read it on AO3

FFNet to come when I can get it up

Chapter Fifteen

Nothing.

Alex was ready to kill someone just to let off steam and her arm was aching so badly thought she might just throw up while the grit and stink of the day left her feeling grimy to the core.

All for nothing.

Visiting various sites of known attacks and suspicious activity had yielded no new evidence. As far as she could tell the victims and targets were as randomly chosen as her computer studies had suggested.

Meanwhile, even the most dialed in of her snitches had looked at her like she’d lost it when she asked if Catwoman was putting together a gang. They’d had a variety of responses, from not knowing who the thief was to assuming she was dead. None of them had heard anything about her in Gotham, though one thought she’d been active in Europe during the last decade. None of it made sense. Alex knew what she’d seen, and what the MO on several minor burglaries suggested. Catwoman was in town. For no one to have heard from her didn’t make sense, leaving Alex to doubt her sanity just a little.

She tightened her hand into a fist, the runners of pain that chased up and down her arm oddly comforting. No dead fantasy figure had broken her arm or trapped her in a cage. No, that was a real woman, one Alex had no doubt was out there waiting to strike.

Straightening her shoulders, she took off with long strides, the nightvision on her motorcycle helmet revealing the darkened corners in the abandoned building where she found herself. This was old Eastsiders’ turf, but by the looks of the place, nobody had been back in at least a year. A head-up display reflected a steady stream of numbers and data on the upper left corner of her visor, giving her a sense of her environment beyond the grit and stink that clung to every surface.

She was deep in when the numbers warned her she wasn’t alone. One figure coming in from her rear left, moving slowly, but directly. EMF monitors showed no electronic frequencies. No nightvision.

Bad move.

The head-up registered the moment he started to accelerate. She pivoted and stepped back, sinking into what, for him, were undoubtedly deep shadows. She saw him clearly as he stepped forward, albeit in shades of nightvision grey; not as tall as she was and gawky thin, with narrow shoulders and a bit of stringy muscle. Blind, he lunged where he probably thought she still stood only to stumble awkwardly when he didn’t meet the expected resistance. Off balance, but still on his feet, short, but well kept dreads swinging with his movement. They’d make a decent handhold if she needed it, but for the moment, she kept her distance, flicking out a baton to slap it across his back and send him sprawling.

He was no experienced criminal. Startled, he scrambled as he hit the floor, trying to pop back to his feet, but only slipping in the deep dust so that he wound up on his ass. Another quick slap with the baton drew a yelp of pain and made him sit hard. “Stay down,” she growled, her voice a threatening rasp.

He froze, giving her a good enough look to confirm he was just a kid, fifteen or sixteen at the most.

But a kid with a baseball bat, she realized as she made out the familiar silhouette clutched in his right hand. She kicked it away and heard it rattle across the cement. “Don’t even think about it,” she ground out when he tensed and seemed ready to jump after his weapon. Beating up kids wasn’t her style, but he was big enough to be dangerous and she wasn’t going to let him get his hands on a weapon. “What the hell do you think you’re doing IN here?”

He crab scuttled backwards on his elbows, his eyes wide and scared, though he tried for a pugnacious chin thrust and a glare. He failed miserably. “Protecting my neighborhood from people like you,” he shot back.

Alex cocked her head to one side. “Protecting it?” she demanded, her voice thick with doubt, then added, “Explain.”

“I don’t tell Eastsider slimeballs shit,” he snarled.

Alex sighed very softly as she reminded herself he wasn’t seeing Batgirl, just an outsider in motorcycle gear, so the distrust was logical. Still, being in a place like this and attacking strangers, he wasn’t selling Girl Scout cookies. “Let me guess,” she growled impatiently, “Easties are scum, but Southies are heroes of the poor and downtrod—”

“Banger scum,” the boy snapped and scrambled back another foot or two. “So whichever you are, take your fuckin’ chems and shove ‘em. You got no biz here!”

That pulled Alex up short. “Explain,” she repeated. Neighborhood and gang politics meant the kids usually proclaimed their affiliations proudly. For him not to do so was unusual, just like the accusation about drugs—chems—another thing they usually claimed proudly. She’d dealt with plenty of them over the last few years, and they often bragged about their ‘business’ and how many kilos they dealt per year with as much pride as any Fortune 500 CEO.

“Go to hell.”

She sighed again, just barely resisting the urge to lose her temper. She’d already had a shitty day and he wasn’t helping any. “Kid, I’m no banger, I’m a cape,” she said, using the common street slang for superheroes. Her tone was intended to make it a threat if he was gang affiliated and a promise of hope if he was just a civvie.

Instead of any expected response, he snorted disdainfully. “Which makes you worse,” he sneered. “At least most bangers don’t know any better.” He flashed another quick look at his bat.

“Don’t even think it,” Alex growled in her most threatening voice. “Look, kid, I just want to know if you’ve seen anything unusual lately.” This was the kind of neighborhood where poverty and desperation would make it all too easy for a thief like Catwoman to recruit an army if she wanted.

He snorted again. “Typical cape.” The boy scuttled back a few more inches, his eyes reflecting a level of loathing that caught Alex by surprise. “Come down here giving orders and threatening the people trying to make this place better, but when we need you, you’re nowhere to be seen.”

“Kid, I’m trying to protect the people. In case you haven’t noticed, there are some guys running around hurting them. The Highway Hitmen?”

“Right,” he scoffed. “Only it’s been going on for years and we didn’t see you. You only care now that it’s rich people in Lexuses getting hurt. When it‘s just street rats, you don’t give a crap.”

Alex made a soft, frustrated sound, offended at the accusation, but also feeling defensive. She hadn’t spent as much time in places like this as she probably should have, but she’d been learning and Bruce had steered her away from areas he deemed too dangerous on her own. “What are you talking about?” she demanded, still using that low, threatening tone.

“This ain’t nothin’ new.” He ran his gaze up and down over her, expression twisted into a look of disdain. “You’re batcrap, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?” Surprise knocked Alex back a half step and stole the air from her lungs. She’d never heard her family referred to so disrespectfully.

“Yeah,” he jeered. “All in black, tough tone, intimidation tactics, never talk to anybody like they might just be a real human being...that’s pure batcrapper.” He thrust his chin forward. “You gonna burn us down next?”

Behind the mask, Alex’s lips pulled back from clenched teeth in a soft snarl. “Batman never did that.”

“Yeah, right.” The kid shook his head. “The news may’ve covered it up, but everybody saw, and his buddy, Bruce Wayne, payin’ people off don’t change that.”

Alex’s hand tightened into a fist. “Nobody got paid off—”

“What do you call all those freebies Wayne handed to the people his Batcrap buddy burned outa their homes?” He snickered. “Rich dudes like that don’t just give money away to be nice. There’s always something in it for them.” Another snorting laugh escaped his lips. “Besides, he probably gets twice his investment back on the down low—”

“No.” Alex surged forward a half step. Bruce had been genuinely trying to right a wrong even if he’d been as much the victim as those burned out of their homes. “He’s trying to rebuild the city—”

“Yeah, sure, the part the BatCrap burned down...which Wayne picked up for a song.

The muscles in her jaw cramping with clenched fury, Alex heard her soft growl, “That was Joker—”

“Yeah, it’s always somebody else’s fault with you capes.” He jerked his chin toward her. “I mean, here you are, you could be doing something to help stop Easties from moving back in and using this place as a drop for their mules, but all you’re doing is hassling me and worrying about some geezer with a good insurance plan and a few bruises. You don’t give a shit about the kids who’ll be overdosing on bad chems.”

Alex froze, not liking his version of truth at all. “Then tell me,” she hissed. “I can’t help if if I don’t know what’s going on.”

He let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

“I mean it,” Alex said firmly. “You think I run around like this for my health?”

“Nah, I think you do it cos you’re mental, just like the rest of ‘em,” he shot back instantly.

Barely resisting the urge to throw out a few insults of her own, Alex straightened her shoulders. “You want help or you just wanna whine?” she demanded. “Because if it’s help, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

He peered at her for a long moment until finally he shrugged, silently accepting the gauntlet she’d thrown down. “All right.” His expression was still angry and bitter, making his answer feel more like he was issuing a challenge of his rather than asking for help. “Easties stashed their chems here for years. Cops and capes both knew and didn’t do shit. Hell, the Batcrap left ‘em alone in trade for info on Cobblepot’s boys... so we finally drove ‘em out on our own. Burned their shit, beat their delivery boys, and busted up their cars when they came down here until they backed off. Only thing capes or cops did was bust our asses for it. See, you punks don’t like it so much when regular folks actually take of themselves. So we had a few years of peace, but now Easties are moving back and they’re taking kids, probably using ‘em as runners or mules or whatever...and cops and capes still ain’t doing shit.”

Alex wanted to accuse him of lying, but every instinct said he was telling the truth. “Batman wouldn’t—”

“There’s a reason we call him Batcrap down here,” the kid sneered before Alex could finish. “Though maybe you think we should be grateful at least he didn’t try to burn us out like he did the Bowery Brats—”

“I told you—”

“And I told you,” he shot back, his voice every bit as hard as hers.

Impasse.

He was just a scared kid, Alex reminded herself, whose entire knowledge base was probably based on street gossip and Batman had taken on plenty of bangers who probably gloried in dirtying his name. “Look, kid,” she said after taking a moment to get her temper back under control. “You’re right that we don’t do enough. Cops and people like me do our best, but places like this, they don’t get the help they ought to.”

“If this is your best, it sucks,” he accused. “You should probably go into some other line of work.”

Alex landed on her temper with both feet and ground out, “But you’re completely wrong if you think we don’t try. Batman did everything he could for neighborhoods like this.”

The kid snorted, a mocking look on his face as he asked, “He raise you on Kool-Aid?”

“Cute.” The kid was trying to piss her off. Probably thought it would make her screw up, but it only made her more determined to watch him like a hawk. She drew in a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She doubted he knew much, but maybe she could figure out some ways to help with the local problems and change a few minds.“Look, kid, I’m trying to...” She caught a tiny flick of movement out of the corner of one eye and started to check the head-up when he suddenly exploded into motion.

The kid was fast, and she reacted on instinct, lunging forward.

It was a mistake.

Because a bright red target burst onto the head-up, coming in fast from behind and before she could do much more than register it was there, something slammed into her ankles and swept her feet out from under her.

Alex went down hard, not injured—the suit’s armor had protected her from any major damage—but she was definitely hurting. Also seriously pissed. Ignoring the pain in her arm, she started to push up on her hands, but her attacker stepped across her from behind and rammed a hard hand into the space between her shoulderblades with a hissed command.

“Stay down.” A woman’s voice, low and determined.

Growling a curse, Alex tried for a grab over her shoulder, but her attacker was already moving past her, her voice louder this time as she snapped at the kid.

“MOVE!”

“Goddammit.” Alex pushed to her knees in time to see a black clad, shapely ass from behind as the newcomer hauled the kid to his feet and shoved him ahead of her.

He spun as he moved, fist pumping the air triumphantly as he laughed at her. “Don’t need you, Batcrapper! We got La Gata!”

The Cat? “GET BACK HERE!” Alex roared, scrambling desperately for her feet. The newcomer glanced back, giving Alex a brief glimpse of a black hood and goggles. “Bitch,” she hissed as one foot skidded in the thick dust to send her knee crashing into the floor.

“Dammit, move,” her attacker hissed, shoving the exultant teen toward the exit, but he darted sideways, too gleeful to be on the winning side to think clearly.

“Get outa our home, Batcrapper!” He retrieved his bat just as Alex hit her feet and grabbed a for a small flash bang tucked inside her jacket. It was a very small charge, but it would incapacitate anyone within several feet for long enough to get cuffs on.

Oh, she was gonna enjoy this. Alex triggered and lobbed the device in one easy move, her voice contained by the helmet as she called out, “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.” Easy peasy.

Until the bitch reached out and slapped it back at her like a champion handballer. Shit! The gear would mostly protect her, but even then, she was likely to end up seeing stars. She lunged backward, everything made worse when the kid flung the bat with a twist of his wrist that sent it spinning to tangle her feet and send her stumbling.

“MOVE!” La Gata grabbed the kid and shoved hard enough that he would have gone down if not for her grip on his shirt.

Alex’s last glimpse was the two of them crashing through the rotted remains of a door before she fell into a curl, chin tucked against her chest, arms over the helmet when the flash bang went off.

Even through the protective gear she felt the concussion and saw a flash of light through her closed eyelids. In the aftermath, a slight stink of smoke reached her nose. Less than a minute passed before it was safe to lift her head. Breathing hard she took in the dusty, empty confines of the drop house. Her targets were gone. No surprise there.

Cursing under her breath, Alex staggered to her feet, the sound of bitter laughter and the crack of the flash bang still ringing in her ears. No use going after them. They’d be long gone and she was in no shape. It took everything she had just to remain standing.

Not a day for the record books, at least not the kind you want to be in.

Meanwhile, her arm throbbed like a sonofabitch, she was drowning in sweat inside all the layers of braces, ironskin, and leather, and she swore if she caught up with the little bastard again, she’d kick his ass six ways to Sunday. Oh yeah, and apparently Catwoman had gotten the best of her.

Again.

At the same time, as she calmed and got herself back under control, she experienced an unexpected sense of vindication. She’d been starting to doubt herself. No more. She hadn’t gotten a good look, but all black, goggles, crooked plans and sneaking around and fucking with the good guys, yeah, that was the feline bitch in a nutshell.

“La Gata, huh?” she growled. “I knew you were out there.” She peered around the place, but didn’t see anything that offered any obvious clues. Still, a tight smile curved her lips, her intention to see the thief locked up redoubled. “And the cat came back for the very last time...” she sang softly as she headed back toward her cycle.

* * * * * *

It probably shouldn’t have been a surprise that Cat wound up calling Kara during a lunch break, and asked her if she meant it when she offered to bring Carter home and look after him. She’d finished her article early, but then Barbara had asked her to help with some piece of research for the companion piece, then wanted a short blurb for the social media, then a longer blurb, then other writers working on stories called to ask for some of her research, then to see if she had time to help with theirs. She kept thinking she was done, then something new happened and more work kept coming in.

So she dug in, fielding calls and doing what was asked as quickly as possible.

She helped every way she knew how.

And it felt good.

It was a first for her, feeling like a part of a group and she was startled to realize she liked it. There was an all new sense of achievement and of being relied on, even trusted. There were even a few friendly moments and wry jokes with other writers who’d previously ignored her existence. From what she could tell as the day wore on, there were now at least four articles being written, as well as some kind of video tie-in on the history of the neighborhood where the jewelry store was located.

It occurred to her that she should have been scared, that investigating the robbery meant closing in on her actions as Catwoman, but the usual terror of discovery never set in. She’d done nothing to arouse the fury of the police or crowds and she didn’t think Jacob would claim otherwise. Maybe he wouldn’t even tell the police who’d saved him. She’d heard nothing to suggest anyone knew she was involved.

Maybe she’d dodged the proverbial bullet.

She heard soft laughter from the family room. Carter, a little giggly and happy, then Kara, almost as happy and sounding not much older. A hint of a smile touched her mouth as she felt an unfamiliar lack of worry with having her son out of her immediate presence. He was safe. Kara would make sure of it.

They were okay and somehow it was going to work out.

She was still musing on that thought when her phone rang. “Kyle here,” she answered instantly.

“Cat, it’s Barbara.” The editor sounded a little tired, but her tone was softer than it had been earlier when her clipped explanations and demands had come fast and sharp.

“Did you need something else?”

“No, actually, I was calling to let you know you can take off for the night.”

“Oh,” Cat exhaled, surprised to feel almost disappointed the work was over. “So everything’s finished then?” Barbara was silent for a long moment and Cat desperately wanted to ask more questions, but instinct held her back.

“There’s some video still being edited,” Barbara exhaled at last, “and some timing issues being hashed out, but I think everything else is in place.” Her editor waited another moment, then she cleared her throat. “Plus Andi’s finishing up her article. She wanted me to thank you for all your help. She made a point about how much more complete it is because of your work.”

“I’m glad I could help.” Cat glanced at the article still up on her laptop. “She’s an amazing writer, made me really feel what that place, that neighborhood must have been like in their heyday.”

Another moment of silence followed before Barbara spoke, the words halting as though she wasn’t quite comfortable with what she was saying. “She is,” she agreed. “But she can be weak on the research end, so thank you for helping her get it right...and thank you for just digging in and doing whatever needed doing today. That’s the kind of attitude I want for the new company. Instead of carefully guarded fiefdoms, I want a team where everybody helps, and knows they can get help if they need it.”

“I like that philosophy.” Cat was surprised to realize she was being honest, not just saying what she thought the other woman wanted to hear.

“Well, you keep doing what you’re doing.”

Cat could hear papers rattle in the background and Barbara was silent for another beat.

“Now go get some dinner, look after your son, do whatever you need. The next few days may be a little long.”

Another beat passed while Cat wondered if she should go ahead and just hang up. Barbara could be surprisingly relaxed when it was about work, but at other times, she seemed stiff and socially awkward as if she wasn’t quite sure how to deal with people when a news story wasn’t involved. Cat was just about to click off when the other woman finally spoke.

“And, Cat...” She was quiet for a beat until finally, “You did really well today. Thank you.”

Cat froze, startled to feel a rush of emotion that left her throat tight and threatened to bring tears to her eyes. “I’m glad,” she heard herself respond, her voice sounding a little ragged inside her head. “That means a lot to me. I really want to get this right.”

“You have so far. Just keep it up.”

They hung up a moment later, and Cat shut her computer down, then slipped into the livingroom without making a sound. Carter was sitting crossed on the floor, an open textbook on his lap, while Kara sat in a similar pose on the couch above him, neck craned so she could peer over his shoulder at what he was doing.

“So it’s really that easy?” Carter was asking, his tone perplexed sounding the way it got when he was genuinely confused by something.

“Yep,” Kara confirmed with a wry smile.

He shook his head. “Why do they make it so hard if it’s that simple?”

“Don’t ask me,” Kara sighed, head canting to one side as she peered at his book. “Sometimes I think textbook writers secretly hate children.”

Carter’s brows drew into a frown as he considered that response. “That actually makes sense,” he decided out loud.

Cat couldn’t help it, she giggled, the sound alerting the other two to her presence.

“Mom!” Carter sounded so happy to see her she couldn’t hold back a wide smile. “Kara was just showing me an easier way of doing quadratic equations. It’s like they actually make sense now.”

“Impressive.”

Kara shrugged, but her eyes were sparkling as she took in Cat, her clothes loose and slouchy, her feet stuffed in brightly colored, fuzzy socks. She looked almost as young as her son. “I just showed him a few tricks.”

“Well, if you can make him love math like he loves science—”

“Like, not love,” Carter corrected.

“Yeah, yeah,” Cat snarked, well aware that his grin said otherwise. Or maybe it was just the attention and praise he loved, or maybe just Kara. In any case, it seemed to be nothing but good for him. “Either way, I think you should thank Kara for helping out today.”

“No thanks needed,” Kara quickly demurred. “It’s been fun.” The last thing she wanted either of them to think was that it was a chore for her. She’d had fun with Carter and their small apartment felt homey and welcoming.

“No, Mom’s right.” Carter twisted to peer up at her. “You were great today and I really appreciate it.” He glanced back at Cat who smiled approvingly. “Thank you so much.” He peered at Kara again, his gaze direct, his smile infectious.

Feeling an unexpected swell of emotion that made it hard to speak for a moment, Kara nodded. Reaching out, she smoothed unruly hair off his forehead. “Well, I was glad to do it, and anytime you need a ride, or anything else, just call.” She looked up at Cat, her expression serious. “I mean it,” she added. “Anytime.” It felt good to be needed for who she was, not her powers, felt good too, to be around people who played and laughed and enjoyed the sunlight. Even Carter’s worries that morning seemed normal by comparison with too many things in her own life.

Cat drew in a sharp breath and nodded, her response little more than a mouthed, “Thank you.” Needing a break from the intensity of the moment, she looked past them toward the sliding glass doors that opened onto the balcony. It was dusk out and would be dark soon. “I know we talked about hitting a restaurant tonight for me to review,” she looked back to Kara. “But honestly, I’m burned out—”

“Oh,” Kara exhaled as she felt an embarrassed flush heat her cheeks. She’d overstayed her welcome. “Right, I should probably get out of your hair.” She all but jacknifed to her feet only to come up short as Cat held out a hand in front of her chest before she could flee.

“Actually, I was going to invite you to dinner,” Cat said, the faintest chiding note in her voice.

“Oh.”

“Nothing fancy,” Cat continued, still holding Kara’s gaze with her own. “I was thinking spaghetti and a salad.” She shrugged. “Or we could order pizza or Chinese,” she added. “But we’d definitely like you to stay.” She just assumed Carter agreed and his firm nod in the background confirmed his assent. She tipped her head to one side, her expression just short of disapproval. “Assuming, of course, you can remember that little promise you made to me on the boat.”

“I’m—” Kara saw Cat’s eyes flash and froze.

“Don’t apologize,” Cat said, her voice not so crisp this time, though it retained the note of command. Her expression softened. “You apologize too much,” she said gently.

Forgotten for the moment, Carter swung his head back and forth like a spectator at a tennis match.

“I...” Kara began only to skid to a halt as Cat’s brows arched sharply. She took a deep breath, then started over. “I’d love to stay for dinner.”

Cat beamed. Right answer. She looked at Carter and nodded toward the kitchen. “There’s sauce in the freezer if you want to handle the rest,” she offered.

Grinning, he bounded to his feet, clearly excited by the prospect. “Mom makes a great Bolognese sauce,” he explained to Kara. “It’s like, half Italian sausage. She makes it ahead so it’s always ready.” His gaze swung back to his mother. “Antipasto?”

She nodded. “I think there’s still a half a french loaf for garlic bread if you’d like.”

“Cool.” He glanced back and forth between the two women, ending with a serious look at his mother. It was easy enough to read her mood in her body language. She was tense and on edge and annoyed with Kara’s lack of confidence. She could get too sharp when she was like that. “Be nice,” he ordered, his tone surprisingly firm.

“I’m nice,” Cat insisted, though her mouth pursed into a thin line.

Carter raised an eyebrow and glanced at Kara, then back to his mother. He tipped his head to one side and there was a moment of silent communication between mother and son that left Kara out of the loop. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll get things started.” He hurried off toward the kitchen.

Kara thought about it for a moment, several questions dancing on the tip of her tongue before she simply asked, “He cooks?”

Still staring after Carter with a thoughtful expression, Cat nodded. “Simple things. He’s getting better though.” She shrugged, sticking to the safe topic for a moment. “Wants to learn how to make my stroganoff recipe.” She drew in a deep breath, then ran a hand through her hair and turned back toward Kara. “I’m sorry if I was too sharp.” Her boy was growing up and he’d made his point well enough to make her wince at her own behavior.

Kara shook her head. “You don’t owe me—”

“Actually, I do,” Cat disagreed. “If you apologize too much, I apologize too little.” She help up a hand when Kara seemed ready to argue. “You’re a guest in my home, one who did me a hell of a favor today, and I just acted like a brat.”

Kara looked uncomfortable, but was smart enough to realize the other woman needed to get this off her chest.

“I wouldn’t let Carter behave like that.” Cat flashed a quick look the direction her son had disappeared, a wry smile twisting her lips. It might be a little embarrassing to be called on the carpet by her child, but at the same time, she was so damned proud of him for what he’d done, her chest ached. “Apparently he’s now grown up enough to return the favor.” When she returned her attention to Kara, her expression was contrite. “I’m sorry. We all have our weak points, and the last thing I want to do is poke one of yours.” Reaching out, she straightened Kara’s collar, her touch fleeting. “But I want you to understand that I see this amazing young woman and I’m not always as patient as I should be when you don’t seem to appreciate that.”

“You’ve been great,” Kara disagreed. She gnawed on her lower lip, embarrassed by her insecurities. “Sometimes I just can’t understand why.” She held a hand when Cat drew a breath to respond. “It’s nothing you’ve done,” Kara assured her. “It’s me.”

Cat’s hand floated up from Kara’s collar, brushed her cheek, cupped her chin, stroked along her jawline, every small bit of contact part of a tactile need to reassure them both. “You are very welcome here...anytime. If you ever doubt that, consider that I trusted you with my son today, and I don’t do that lightly.” She tucked a finger under Kara’s chin, bringing her head up when she would have looked away. “I also consider you a friend, and I don’t even remember the last time I said that to anyone.”

Kara swallowed hard and nodded. “Thank you.” She caught Cat’s and ran her thumb along the rise of her knuckles, holding her gaze as they shared a long look. “It’s mutual.”

Pots and pans clattered noisily in the kitchen.

Cat’s chin snapped toward the sound as she was reminded of her son’s activities. “I should probably go supervise,” she exhaled, sounding a little disappointed at the prospect. “He still gets a little ham handed sometimes.”

Nodding, Kara released her loose hold on Cat’s hand to wave her toward the kitchen.“He can be kinda impatient on lab days.” She offered a teasing smile. “Though no major explosions yet.”

Another clatter that bordered on a crash echoed from the other room.

Cat’s ears twitched nervously in spite of her usual control and she bounced on her toes. “I think maybe we should hurry.”

Kara nodded and followed her to the kitchen. Cat quickly got things back under control, and had Carter put away several pots wholly inappropriate for what he needed. After that, she she allowed an eager Carter to handle the cooking with a few reminders to take things more slowly and be careful. When he stuck his head outside, and pronounced it not too cold to eat on the balcony, both adults followed his lead.

“I have a pretty good Chianti on hand if you’d like wine,” Cat told Kara as she pulled a bottle out of the fridge and peered at the label. “But only if you’re willing to stay here at least an hour after your last drink.”

Carter nodded. “Mom’s really strict about drinking and driving,” he confirmed.

Kara had relaxed enough to grin by then. “I’d love to stay at least an hour after dinner,” she admitted. She wasn’t really much of a drinker—she preferred sodas for the most part and alcohol had no effect on her under normal circumstances—but the idea of having to stay longer appealed.

Cat flashed another of the beaming smiles, this time without even a trace of the earlier sharpness. “Wine it is then.”

So a half hour later, they ate at the small table on the balcony, a flickering votive candle the only illumination other than the reflected lights from the city below. There wasn’t much room, so elbows and knees bumped occasionally and they had to serve themselves inside then carry the plates out. The smell was heavenly though and Kara found herself once again with people who actually had enough food on hand to fill her and showed no sign of noticing just how much that was. Meanwhile, Cat served the wine, though she had to set the bottle on the floor off to the side to have space for it.

Kara tasted it and smiled wryly. It wasn’t something Alfred would have allowed anywhere near Bruce’s wine cellar, but it was a bit sweet and pleasantly sharp. Besides, as the meal wore on, it left Cat just a bit buzzed. Oh, not drunk by any means, but a little giggly, and either a bit less coordinated or maybe just less careful and less reserved. Her knee grazed Kara’s as she told a risque joke that went over Carter’s head. Then a few minutes later, her hand brushed Kara’s upper arm in a fleeting caress and their shoulders bumped several times, the grazing touches long enough to leave Kara very aware of Cat’s body heat. Quick glances and shared smiles followed and twice Cat’s hand landed briefly on Kara’s thigh.

It was teasing and fun and just the tiniest bit dangerous. Or perhaps, given the thoughts Kara was starting to have and the smiles that kept trading back and forth with Cat, maybe a lot dangerous, for a very pleasant definition of danger.

Kara loved it. She wasn’t sure what they were doing, or maybe she was and just wasn’t ready to look too closely at what she was feeling. Either way, she didn’t want it to end anytime soon.

She was enjoying herself far too much.

So Kara dug into the food, drank the wine and if her shoulder and knee bumped Cat’s more often than was remotely necessary, she couldn’t feel bad about it because Cat seemed to enjoy it as much as she did. Later, when Carter began telling bad knock-knock jokes, she responded with her own–she’d learned a few things as a teacher. It wasn’t long before they were all laughing uncontrollably at the sheer badness of it all. Finally, with dinner done, their efforts to one-up each other resulted in Kara hitting a punchline that knocked Carter silent. He just stared for a moment, then looked at his mother, who giggled softly. He groaned and rolled his eyes. “You’re more juvenile than I am.” He sniffed disapprovingly at his mother. “Both of you.”

Which made both women laugh even harder.

“And on that note,” he grumbled, “I still have homework to finish.”

“You need any more help?” Kara asked through continuing giggles.

He thought about it a moment and shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.” He looked at the adults again and shook his head. “Besides, you two are way too into that joke.” He looked at his mom in a silent request for permission and she nodded.

“Go on.” She smiled. “And thank you for dinner. It was excellent.”

“Ditto,” Kara agreed. “Seriously, dinner was wonderful and I had a great time today. You’re welcome to catch a ride with me anytime.” She couldn’t have held back a smile if her life depended on it.

He grinned happily, then started stacking the dishes to take them away.

Kara straightened and would have helped, but Carter waved her off.

“A good host takes care of that,” he told her and flashed a quick look at his mother, who nodded. “It’s a way of showing someone how much you appreciate their company,” he added seriously.

It went against her basic need to be helpful, but Kara understood she needed to let him have this. Nodding, she let him take her plate, though she held back her glass. “Well, thank you, Carter.” She glanced at Cat and saw the gratitude in her tiny nod. “You’ve been a wonderful host tonight.”

His chest puffed out with pride and it struck Kara as she peered into his wide open gaze that Cat was careful about teaching him things like this, manners, but also being kind and making people feel appreciated. She’d speak up sometimes and remind him, but he was good on his own about it too. She’d seen it in how he treated the teachers and his fellow students at school.

Finally, with everything neatly stacked, he said his goodbyes and hurried off.

Cat watched him go with a satisfied smile. She was so damn proud of that boy it made her wonder how she could have produced something so utterly perfect.

“He’s a great kid,” Kara murmured as if she’d read Cat’s mind.

“Sometimes it feels like he’s the one thing in my life I got right,” she sighed, thinking of all the choices she’d made to create a better future for him. “I’d do anything for him.”

Kara nodded, drawn to the warmth on display even if it sometimes felt more alien than she was. Her own family on Krypton had loved her, even been willing to die for her, but she’d never had any great sense that they really saw her. She was the future of Krypton, not an individual. Meanwhile, her human family also loved her, but their priorities felt so different that neither she nor they quite knew what to say or do. This family, on the other hand, felt like something she’d long wanted, but hadn’t quite known existed.

Cat met her gaze with a soft smile before taking a moment to top off her wine. That done, she rose and stepped over to the balcony railing. “It’s warmer than I expected tonight,” she sighed, needing some distance to have any hope of clearing her head. All the flirtation and brief touches had left her jittery and spun up. Probably not her best choice, but she hadn’t seemed able to back away.

Kara followed suit and joined her, leaning against the railing to stare out at the city.

Cat stared. When it came to head clearing the sight of Kara like that didn’t help. Her gaze drifted over smooth curves. No, that didn’t help at all. She took a long drink from her glass. Probably also less than helpful. Then a soft scent teased her nostrils, something newly familiar to her. Tangy and a little sweet like some heretofore unknown citrus, it was wholly Kara’s own. It clung to her skin even sharper and more tantalizing than where it remained on the borrowed jacket Cat now burrowed into at night.

Kara tipped her gaze skyward and sniffed at the air. “Warmer, yeah,” she agreed, assessing the weather with the experience of someone who’d spent years in Gotham. “We sometimes get these temperate pauses this time of year,” she mused between idle sips of wine. “But they never last long and usually when they break, it means bitter cold heralded by the kind of storm that shuts the city down.” Her gaze swung to the west where she could easily make out the work lights of the Bowery Project as crews tried to finish several tasks ahead of the winter weather. She swung her gaze east, noting it was much darker and knew that if she sharpened her vision enough, she would see too much crime amid dirty streets where city services virtually didn’t reach. If winter came in hard, they would be the ones to suffer.

Peering up at Kara, Cat enjoyed the clean lines of her profile even as she noted the melancholy in her eyes. It wasn’t the night for it, she decided and reached out.

Kara was startled out of her grim thoughts by the soft tink of a fingernail tapping her wine glass. Cat was smiling up at her and she felt the encroaching darkness retreat a bit.

Cat rapped the glass again. “You know this means you have to stay at least an hour after you finish,” she pointed out.

Kara nodded, the weight on her shoulders fading as she stared down into warm, green eyes. She couldn’t hold back a smile. Somehow Cat just did that for her with little more than a look. “I don’t mind, if you don’t.”

Good girl, the thought went through Cat’s head . “Not at all.” She let out a satisfied sigh and bumped Kara’s shoulder with her own before leaning forward to stare out at the world. “I love this view.” The temperature was dropping, and she pulled her sweater more firmly around herself to ward off the growing chill.

“It’s beautiful,” Kara agreed. “I’ve always loved looking out at city lights.” Even as a child on Krypton, she’d loved to look down on the city and watch the lights and patterns of movement. Few things relaxed her as much or left her feeling so thoroughly a part of this world even when floating above it.

They stayed there in companionable silence, simply watching the city for several minutes until Cat cleared her throat.

Kara heard the other woman’s heartrate pick up. Nervous, but not terrified.

“Carter really likes you, you know,” Cat began.

Kara was glad to hear it.

“I do too,” Cat added, her voice soft and thoughtful, her gaze still on the city past her balcony, instinct telling her Kara needed a bit of space. She needed to make some things clear though. “If you ever want to talk about why you think we wouldn’t you around—why you think I wouldn’t want you—I’ll listen.” She was silent for a beat, considering her words carefully in an effort to give Kara a chance to speak if she wanted, but also determined not to pressure her. “But if you don’t want to, that’s okay too.” It needed to be Kara’s choice. She thought back to her younger days, to a hand held out and unexpected faith that she could still be human if she wanted. It would never have worked if Selina had tried to use force. Lesson learned. She needed to control her own impatient, pushy side. She tipped her head back, seeing the familiar bright stars. “Do you know anything about the stars?”

Kara almost laughed, but realized she’d have to explain too many things. “A little,” she admitted.

Cat read that knowing, wry tone and looked over, her expression almost disappointed. She’d forgotten what Kara did for a living. Hell, the girl probably knew more than she did. “Right, science teacher.”

That too, Kara thought, and nodded.

“Probably not much I can tell you that you don’t already know,” Cat sighed. This time it was definitely disappointment.

“You could tell me why you love them.” When no answer was quickly forthcoming, Kara was left with the sense it was a difficult debate.

Cat was silent for a long moment. The problem of how much to say wasn’t a simple one. “My father,” she finally answered, keeping it simple. “When I was little, we’d sit outside and he’d aim his telescope on the different stars and teach me about them. Later, when I had Carter, we could go up on a rooftop and stargaze for free.” Free had been important in those days, as had being outside in places where they weren’t likely to be noticed.

A soft smile touched Kara’s lips. “My aunt taught me the stars.” Her lessons had involved different constellations, but it was the only time anyone paid more than passing attention to her. Rao, how she missed those times, because Bruce? Much as he loved the night, noting the stars would have required looking up from the crime soaked streets he was obsessed with. She doubted he even knew the stars existed. “God, I miss those times.”

It felt like the most natural thing in the world when Cat reached out to settled her hand over Kara’s. “Yeah,” she exhaled.

She didn’t have to say anymore than that for Kara to know. She recognized the hurt. “How old were you?”

They both understood what she was asking.

“Twelve.” Normally, it wasn’t a question Cat would have answered, but holding the truth back from this woman felt impossible. “Car accident.” That had been the official finding anyway.

“Thirteen,” Kara whispered her voice echoing with old pain.

Cat remembered she’d mentioned it on the boat. “You said there was a fire?” she said by way of question.

“Yeah...a really bad one.” This was the closest Kara had come to telling anyone the truth outside of her adoptive family. “My whole family...everything I knew.” She was surprised by the strength of the hand clinging to hers.

“I can’t imagine,” Cat whispered. “When I lost Dad, I still had my mother.” She was silent a long moment, bitter memories stealing her voice until she muttered under her breath, “Losing everything would have been better.” Even now, the depth of that betrayal was like salt ground into a fresh wound.

Speaking of being sorry, Kara thought. There was a wealth of hurt in that simple statement, though it was obvious Cat hadn’t meant it to be heard. She wanted to ask, but instinct told her it wasn’t the time. After a moment, she slipped her hand free and pointed skyward. Maybe a bit of distraction. “My favorite constellation here is Draco,” she deliberately changed topics as she sketched her finger along the trail of stars. She leaned close, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Did you know it includes a nebula?”

Cat shook her head.

Kara flashed a tiny, triumphant grin, though she suspected Cat might be fudging the truth to have something else to talk about. “You can’t see it with the naked eye.” Well, she could, but a human couldn’t. “But even binoculars are enough to see a bit of a smudge. With better telescopes, it’s just gorgeous, vivid color and a distinct shape.” She leaned close enough to whisper near Cat’s ear. “It’s named the Cat’s Eye nebula.” She heard Cat’s pulse accelerate and the hitch in her breathing. Distraction indeed. “Which right now just makes me like Draco more.”

Cat blinked, unable to take her eyes off the tiny splash of color in the sky. She’d seen it before, of course, first through her father’s telescope and later, after everything changed, with the naked eye, but she’d never really thought about it. Suddenly the normally unimpressive smear of green with its flick of red seemed particularly vivid, beautiful even. All because Kara liked it. Which possibly was the most terrifying thought she’d had in years because she honestly had no idea what to do with the fact that this thing—whatever it was—was moving past a parent-teacher friendship or any lighthearted flirtation.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear or feel Kara move until a hand landed lightly on her shoulder. The twitchy jump happened, muscles flexing and quivering wildly before she could stop the response. She heard Kara’s instant gasp and felt her go utterly still, barely even breathing.

Kara froze the moment she registered the other woman’s skittish flinch and couldn’t help but remember her worries when speaking with Carter that morning. That, coupled with Cat’s muttered comment about her mother didn’t paint a pretty picture. She carefully drew her hand back, moving slowly and deliberately so as not to startle her again. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

Green eyes slid closed in response to the softly spoken apology. “You didn’t,” Cat assured her. She glanced back and flashed a soothing smile even as her shoulders shifted in an embarrassed shrug. “Overly sensitive startle reflex.”

Kara settled her hand back on the balcony railing. “I hope you know I would never hurt you,” she promised.

“I know that,” Cat snapped, her voice more brittle than she intended. She had it in her to wonder if that was the wisest answer. They were pulling closer than she’d planned–or rather, not planned–and she couldn’t help but wonder how stupid she was for not stopping it. She might be trying to change, but her life was still a chaotic mess at best, while Kara was sweet and so innocent that Cat couldn’t help but think she should send her packing because Cat was none of those things.

Which did nothing to ease the thickening temptation, perhaps even made it worse. That utter lack of suspicion was a candle flame to her moth’s wings, offering warmth and light and threatening possible immolation.

Kara took the silence for trust issues and spoke up, her breathing fast and nervous. “I mean it, Cat.” She paused to grab a breath. “Never,” she repeated intensely. “And if you need any kind of help—”

“I don’t,” Cat lied sharply. This time, the meanness of her own tone struck her as she heard Kara’s sharp exhalation as though she’d been struck. Awash in a sudden wave of emotion, she shook her head and took a moment to gather herself. Guilt was something she hadn’t allowed herself in years and it was hard not to bolt in a panic. Finally, she deliberately softened her voice.“I’m sorry, Kara,” she whispered intensely, unable to push the other woman away even if it might be wiser. “ I didn’t mean to snap and I’m not afraid of you.” She dismissed the ludicrous idea with a disapproving sniff. If anyone should be afraid, it was this beautiful, kind-hearted, woman who was sweet and naive enough to actually trust her. That choice had emptied the pockets and diminished the hope of more than one person.

She would not let it happen again, not to Kara.

Kara let out a sharp breath of relief even if she wasn’t certain she completely believed the denial. “I hope not,” she insisted as she peered at Cat, taking in her stressed body language and bowed head. That wasn’t an example of confidence on any world. “Because I would never want that.”

“I know.” Cat swallowed hard and blew out a hard breath before she turned enough to meet Kara’s worried gaze. “I really do trust you,” she assured the younger woman. “I just...” She stumbled to a halt as she considered how much to explain. “There are some bad things in my past,” she admitted at last.

Kara nodded. She’d guessed as much. “Is there anything now?” she asked, needing to know Cat and Carter were okay because if they weren’t, she’d bring the full might of Bruce’s empire and her own abilities to bear to protect them. They were already that important to her. “Are you and Carter safe?”

Catching Kara’s hand in her own. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” Cat acknowledged and looked away for a moment. It felt so strange to have someone care that she didn’t quite know how to respond. “But we’re good here.” She looked back to Kara, and squeezed her hand firmly. “We’re safe,” she assured her. “It’s a new chance, for Carter and I both.”

“You’ll tell me if you need help?” Kara whispered.

Cat froze. It was a promise she couldn’t make, not when it might put Kara in danger and Cat’s problems were most likely to be a kind the girl couldn’t help with. “I promise I’ll tell you if there’s anything you can do.” It was the best she could do.

Kara frowned, correctly reading the conditional nature of the answer. Part of her wanted to tell Cat just how powerful her family was, not to mention how powerful she was. One word and nothing could ever hurt her again. Another part was terrified the other woman would run for cover if she knew the truth. Cat didn’t strike her as the type to be drawn to wealth and power, and the scope of it could be overwhelming even for those used to it. In the end, she remained silent.

“There is one thing you could do,” Cat said after a long moment. “The school wanted an emergency contact in case they couldn’t reach me, and I wondered if you’d—”

“I’d be happy to,” Kara said before she could get any further.

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.” Kara paused for a moment, then finally risked asking an obvious question. “Do you have any other family?”

“No.” Cat was silent for a moment before sighing heavily. “No one who matters anyway. My mother may be alive, but she’s long out of my life, and Carter’s father was never in it. He didn’t want either of us.”

Kara hurt for anyone so alone in the world. “ I’m more than happy to be an emergency contact, or anything else I can do.”

“That’s plenty,” Cat assured her. For Carter to have someone else meant everything to her.

“It’s nothing.” She’d do the same for any of her kids.

“Never dealt with a projectile vomiting kid then?” Cat joked in an effort to lighten the mood. They both needed a break from what felt overwhelmingly sad.

“Actually, I have. Every teacher does sooner or later.” Kara pivoted and leaned back against the railing and took another sip of wine. “And if it was Carter, I’m not saying I’d be happy, but I’d look after him. You too.”

Cat’s breath hitched as she found herself caught by the expression in remarkably clear blue eyes. “So if I’m ever projectile vomiting, it’s okay to call?” she asked after a beat.

A soft laugh and Kara’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’ll kick your ass if you don’t.” It was a joke, but serious too. Reaching out, she cupped her palm along the curve of Cat’s cheek. Struck by the velvety softness of her skin, she stroked lightly with her thumb.

Unable to resist, Cat turned her cheek into the caress, a nearly soundless purr vibrating at the base of her throat. Swallowing hard, she peered up at the younger woman. It was tempting to pretend nothing was happening, that they were just two adults who enjoyed each other’s company, but simple friendship didn’t make her insides quiver at the tiniest bit of contact or set her pulse running so easily. Kara was becoming too important to risk so much. She couldn’t afford an emotional tailspin and Carter couldn’t afford to lose the one adult other than her that he’d ever bonded to. “What are we doing?” she asked at last, her voice soft and scared.

Kara’s voice caught in her throat as green eyes found hers. “I...” She trailed off, afraid to give the first answer that came to her, certain Cat was on the verge of bolting. “Something,” she said after a long beat.

“So I’m not imagining it?” Cat whispered uncertainly. It had been so long since she’d allowed herself anything emotional that she really wasn’t sure.

Between her origins, her family, and everything else, it would be simpler for Kara to say she was. Bruce and Alex would firmly urge to do so. They had enough times already because, god forbid she trust anyone. Hell, Alex would probably start suggesting Cat was Catwoman again.

But Kara couldn’t do it. “You aren’t imagining anything.”

“I’ve never brought people home in front of Carter.” Given the people in her circle, it wasn’t a risk she’d ever been willing to take, particularly not for some brief fling. She glanced sideways for a moment, then added, “Our life was already so unstable. I couldn’t do that to him.”

Kara fidgeted. She hadn’t planned on this conversation, hadn’t even let herself fantasize it might happen, so she went with her gut. “I’m not looking for a one-night stand.” Not that she wasn’t attracted. She was. Cat settled a hand on her chest, the light contact enough to make her pulse accelerated more than flying around the world twice would have. Yeah, a one night stand had its appeal, but even as that thought occurred, she knew she wanted so much more.

“I wasn’t offering,” Cat said crispy, one eyebrow arching high, her manner cooling several degrees. The comment stung even if Kara hadn’t meant it to. She’d had too many people assume too many things for it not to.

“I know.” Kara barely paused as she realized what Cat thought and tried to turn expectations around. “I just wanted it understood you have to appreciate me for my mind as well as my body.” The line was delivered perfectly straight faced.

Cat blinked, momentarily left mute by the effort it took to parse Kara’s response. “I...” She trailed off, then got the joke and chuckled softly, any tension broken. “Point taken.” She eyed the younger woman from head to toe, a frisson if something wicked and taunting shivering up her spine, the wild thing in her demanding to teach the little girl a lesson. “But you should know I think you have a really...hot...mind,” she drawled, drawing each successive word out a little more.

Kara swallowed hard. “I...” She was so out of her depth, though it was tempting to dive deep and swim for it anyway.

Cat shook her head and spread her palm where it rested over Kara’s sternum. Her eyes gleamed and her lips twitched. Hunting instincts engaged. She peered into blue eyes and saw the hunger there. It would be so easy.

Which was the problem. Easy was only easy until it wasn’t. She’d stolen plenty of things. Kara shouldn’t be one of them.

Her hand firm on Kara’s chest, Cat stepped back a pace and took a deep, calming breath.

“Cat?” Kara sounded almost scared.

“We take this slowly...one step at a time,” she said firmly, consciously pushing the hunter back into its cage.

“So you’re...interested?” Kara asked haltingly.

Her smile tender, Cat shook her head. Maybe she should, but she couldn’t. “Very,” she confessed. Besides, with care, perhaps she could do this right. “I just need to do this right, be careful.” She blew out a sharp breath and flicked a glance toward the livingroom. “And take things very slowly.”

Kara followed the line of her gaze, and paused to think about it for a moment before adding. “And if it goes no farther than the friendship we have, that’s okay too.” She reached up to settle her hand over Cat’s where it rested on her chest. “Whatever happens, we stay friends.”

Cat nodded, grateful for the younger woman’s innate understanding. “Friends,” she repeated with a firm nod.

“And if more happens, that’s okay too,” Kara added, sensing Cat’s insecurities.

Green eyes glittered with raw appreciation. “More than okay,” Cat drawled, the feline in her needing to preen in response to the look in Kara’s eyes.

Kara’s mouth ran dry as Cat turned on a taunting grin and did a little hip and shoulder wiggle that shouldn’t have been that appealing in a woman wearing pilled sweats, a stretched out cardigan, and fuzzy socks. “I’m glad,” she gasped.

“Good,” Cat drawled, a tiny shiver making its way down her spine. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this enticing sense of safety mixed with wicked levels of want. Maybe never. She tipped her head back to peer at the sky, calming herself with its grandeur. “But maybe it’s time to go back to talking about the stars.” At least if they were going to go slow.

“Right,” Kara panted dazedly. “Stars.”

Both needing a break from the charged conversation, they quieted, occasionally pointing at this or that, but mostly enjoying the night and the company.

Finally, Kara cleared her throat and asked, “Speaking of stars, did you know there’s a planetarium at the university?”

Cat looked over and shook her head. “No.”

“They took the old observatory on campus, made it the centerpoint of a new building with a planetarium and a children’s museum. It’s supposed to have some pretty cool stuff.” It should. Bruce had donated enough money for it. “It’s on the edge of campus, not far from the riverwalk. I’ve been meaning to go. I thought maybe the three of us?” She paused for a brief moment. “I get that you two are a package deal,” she clarified. If things were going to move forward, it needed to happen in a way that included Carter.

Cat’s mouth turned up in a small, grateful smile. “I know.” None of this conversation would be taking place if she wasn’t confident that Kara understood her priorities. “I think the planetarium sounds wonderful.”

“I figured Carter would enjoy it.”

“He will,” Cat agreed. “But honestly, I love that kind of thing too.” A happy grin curved her lips, making her seem little older than her son. She and Carter had long been museum hounds. They were generally cheap, and once he’d been safe to take in public, something that always kept that eager brain engaged. “One of the greatest things about having a child is you can go all those kid’s places where they let you play with the exhibits without being embarrassed.”

“It’s a great part of being a teacher too.” Kara giggled. “In fact, it means you have to play with them to demonstrate them to your students.”

“I knew there was a reason I like you.”

Kara all but glowed. “Hopefully, I can give you a few more,” she flirted, or at least she hoped she was flirting. She wasn’t exactly an expert.

A blonde brow climbed high on Cat’s brow as she turned an assessing look Kara’s way. “I can think of one or two things already.”

Kara coughed and took a moment to catch her breath before taking a sip from her wineglass. “I...uh...you...” she croaked.

Cat let out a soft, triumphant laugh.

“You’re evil,” Kara accused when she finally caught her breath. She sounded thrilled by the prospect.

It occurred to Cat that it was possibly the first time someone uttered had those words about her where they weren’t even slightly true. “Mm.” She took a sip from her glass and turned toward Kara, taking in bright eyes and pleasing curves. “Very,” she confirmed, pleased by the prospect of getting to know them better. Leaning against the railing, she trailed her gaze all the way down, then up again to peer into Kara’s eyes. An approving smile teased her lips. “I’ve been known to steal candy from babies,” she drawled, putting a suggestive spin on the words that somehow cast Kara as the baby and the candy.

Kara coughed again and found herself wondering who’d robbed the air of all the oxygen.

“Okay, so it was Carter’s Halloween candy,” Cat admitted, taking pity on Kara as her sex kitten act broke into a snicker. “But that boy never eats the Snickers anyways. He prefers Three Musketeers. It’s almost enough to make me wonder if he’s really mine.”

“Hey, it’s chocolate. Never diss chocolate in any form.”

Cat sniffed disapprovingly. “A thin shell over—” her lip curled disdainfully “—whipped nougat.” She shook her head and stuck out her tongue in a universal ‘ick’ gesture. “Boring.” She dragged out the single word in a musical trill.

“But chocolate.”

“Fine. You and Carter can have them. I’ll take everything else.”

“Oh no, I’m an equal opportunity devourer of chocolate.” Kara laughed and leaned in close enough to note the tiny gold flecks in the green of Cat’s eyes. “Among other things,” she murmured, her voice dropping low and taking on a suggestive note.

Cat felt her pulse pick up in response to the challenge in blue eyes. “Oh, Kara,” she exhaled and rested a hand on the girl’s chest, caught somewhere between holding her off and pulling her closer. Hunting instinct re-engaged. “You don’t want to try and one-up me.” She took a step closer. “You’ll lose.”

Cat wasn’t the only one who liked a challenge. “Which could be fun in its own right.” Kara took a half step forward until they were almost touching.

Going slow was proving to be more of a challenge than either of them expected.

Blood quickening in her veins, Cat leaned in just a little, then caught herself as she heard a bit of sound and was reminded of Carter just inside and down the hall, with sharp, little ears that could prick to the tiniest sound. The hand on Kara’s chest tensed and the undecided push-pull became firm pressure. “Carter,” she whispered in reminder.

Kara pulled back fractionally and her brows drew into a frown. “Right.” She looked up, x-ray vision revealing he was still in the livingroom, sitting cross-legged on the couch, his math book on his lap.

“I’ll need to talk to him,” Cat said by way of explanation.

Kara nodded her understanding. “If it’s a comfort, while we were driving back, he asked if I like you—” she put extra emphasis on the word like “—and kept grinning at me.”

Cat laughed and rolled her eyes. “The question, ‘Do you like-like her?’ might have been heard around here after we got back from sailing.” She shrugged. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem, but I want him to understand and not be surprised.”

“So he knows that you...” Kara didn’t finish, uncertain what to say or how to phrase it.

Cat took pity on her. “Prefer the company of women?” She nodded. “It’s not something I’ve ever hidden.”

“That’s good...I mean, that you were honest with him. I see so many kids whose parents lie and hide things and it never comes out well.”

“For good or ill, Carter knows me,” Cat sighed.

“It’s good,” Kara said confidently and laid a hand over Cat’s, the warmth of her skin sending a small shiver of awareness through both of them. “So...uh...we have a busy week at school, and I’m guessing you will too,” she said to distract herself from a sudden flood of sensations. When Barbara pursued a story, it was always with total commitment. “Maybe we could do the planetarium Friday. We have a half day, so I could just bring Carter home and go from there.” She paused a beat. “Then maybe hit the restaurant you were talking about reviewing for dinner.” Another beat. “Or is that too far off?”

“Actually Barbara warned us that the next few days would probably be busy and not to plan anything we couldn’t reschedule, so Friday’s perfect.” She eyed the girl for a moment. “But are you sure you don’t want a break between school and going out?”

She got a quick headshake. “Nah, I’ll bring spare clothes. It’ll be fine.” Not sweating under normal circumstances could be an advantage some days.

“Well, if you change your mind and want a shower, you’re welcome to grab one here,” Cat offered automatically, only to have it occur to her a tiny beat later what that would mean. Strange to have something so simple send a ripple of awareness through her hard enough to make her breath catch.

Their gazes met and some blushing followed, but Kara opted to ignore the opening and simply offer, “If you want, I can take him in that morning too.”

Cat nodded, grateful to have something else to think about. “Let me talk to him. See what he thinks.” Like her, Carter needed control over certain things. The plan for the planetarium and ride home would almost certainly go over well, but an unusual plan for the morning when he was already likely to struggle might be too much. He’d just barely dealt with it that morning because it was an emergency, but for a plan to work, it would have to be his decision.

Kara nodded, accepting the answer. “He needs that, doesn’t he?” she asked thoughtfully. “To have some input with what’s happening?”

Impressed by Kara’s observation, Cat nodded. “He’s like me,” she admitted. “Doesn’t always handle life well if it feels too out of control.”

Kara could see it. He was a good kid and Cat had taught him manners, but he could get prickly with other students when it came to his things or his personal space. “So was baby Carter a demanding little monster?”

Old ghosts floated, not quite hidden, in Cat’s eyes and she waved a hand near her temple as if brushing off a particularly aggressive insect.

“Cat?”

“No,” she said very softly. “He was...” She trailed off, haunted by the memory of Carter in her arms, so tiny and grey as he struggled just to lift his head, the genetic sins done to her visited on him with even more cruelty. “He was the sweetest...child...but he was...ill...most of the first year. I didn’t know if he’d survive.”

Kara’s stomach did a flip and sank. “Is he okay now?” Even she heard the fear echoing in her own voice.

“He’s...” Strong and fierce and every bit as agile as she was as opposed to those early months when he’d been too small and weak, barely even able to nurse, so different from a normal child that she’d had to avoid the doctors very early. She wouldn’t see her son turned into a test subject when there was nothing the doctors could do anyway. So she’d hidden away, holding him by the hour, crooning softly, both of them stressed and rumbly, half expecting each breath to be his last—

“Cat?” Kara repeated, sounding almost panicked.

Cat blinked, yanked out of the past by the other woman’s terror. She caught her hand in a firm grasp. “He’s okay,” she quickly assured her. “Failure to thrive they called it...which was really code for, ‘We don’t know what’s wrong.’” She shrugged. “Then one day he started getting stronger.” Another shrug. “I may have spoiled him a little after that...or a lot.” She let out a grim chuckle. Carter had been a bit of a terror once he started growing and healing, sometimes utterly somnolent, others, so high energy he’d literally bounced off the walls like a human gas molecule. She’d had to restrict him in so many ways that she’d indulged every whim she could, too grateful to see him alive and getting stronger to institute much discipline.

“I can understand that.” Kara thought about it and things clicked in her head. “That’s why the reminders about manners.”

“He was a bit feral there for a while.” Literally. Cat smothered an embarrassed laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, he was never mean, and he’s always had a sense of fairness. He could just be a little thoughtless and wild.” Both dangerous traits for them. Drawing the wrong kind of attention could be disastrous.

Understanding much more than she had before, Kara nodded. “He’s a great kid.” She straightened her shoulders, her expression turning serious as she saw a good opening to say something else that felt very important to her. “And just so you know, my relationship with him is separate from anything between you and me. He’s my student and I always fight for them, no matter what.” On Krypton teaching had been viewed more as a sacred calling than simply a job. That ethic remained deeply ingrained. “There is literally nothing you could do to change that.” She allowed herself the smallest hint of a smile as Cat heaved a sigh of relief.

“Good.” Cat’s tone was firm, her smile serious. “If there’s ever a choice to be made, you choose him.”

Which only made her more appealing, Kara thought. She took a small step closer. Reaching out, every movement slow enough to give Cat plenty of time to see her coming. She brushed pale gold hair back from the other woman’s brow, relieved to see no sign of rejection in green eyes. “I’d very much like to kiss you,” she admitted, suddenly breathless. Her voice was soft and formal, dealing with Cat the way she would have on Krypton rather than here, the more reserved mores of her old world feeling more apropos.

Cat paused, a hard swallow making her throat bob. She shouldn’t. She should wait, at least speak to Carter before it went any farther, be responsible for once.

But the tenderly spoken request and reassuring look in blue eyes touched a long forgotten part of her soul and she couldn’t refuse. She caught Kara’s hands with her own to tug her into the small protected niche that abutted the neighboring balcony. Shielded from the sliding glass door, it wasn’t visible from anyplace in the apartment, giving them a guaranteed bit of privacy.

Following willingly, Kara exhaled a relieved sigh. Her hands found light purchase on Cat’s hips as they were released. She was ready to pull away in an instant, but Cat actually leaned into her.

So much for good intentions.

They both fell silent and tiny hitches of breath could be heard. A shiver worked its way down Cat’s spine as Kara’s thumbs circled lightly at her hip. Green eyes met blue and their gazes held.

“I’d still like to kiss you,” Kara exhaled in a tacit request for permission.

Smoothing her palms up Kara’s chest, Cat took pleasure in the warmth and strength she found, then she looked up into blue eyes and saw another kind of strength and melted. No one had ever treated her so gently or made her feel so safe. She nodded.

Neither woman moved for a long moment, then Kara ducked her head. The first brush of their lips was brief, tentative even, but tender and warm. The second was more confident, but just as careful while the third was firmer, but still gallant and gentle, an invitation. not a demand.

Her breathing heavy, hands trembling, Cat curled her fingers into Kara’s sweater as she fought the urge to work her fingers against firm muscle in happy abandon. It went on, back and forth as they learned one another and found a rhythm that worked. Small forays ebbed and flowed as they traded soft kisses, exploring slowly.

Finally, Kara pulled her head back just enough to break the kiss.

“You know how to do this,” Cat whispered.

“Not so’s anyone’s ever noticed before.” Kara leaned in to lightly bump Cat’s forehead with her own. “Maybe it’s the company,” she teased as she lifted a hand to brush ruffled hair off Cat’s cheek.

“Speaking of not so’s you’d notice,” Cat drawled. Ducking her head, she leaned against Kara, breathing in the scent and heat of her. It took effort to contain a delicate, satisfied purr.

They stood quietly, leaning against one another, close and touching, but no more than that..

“I’d like to hold you.” Kara wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around the smaller woman and cling, but she needed to be sure it would be okay.

Cat tipped her head back, peering up at the younger woman. “I won’t break.” She was no weak, mewling kitten and she wouldn’t be treated like one.

“I know,” Kara assured her. “But I don’t ever want you to be afraid of me.”

Cat drew in a slow breath, her expression solemn. “I’m not, but I don’t want you to be afraid of me either.”

“I’m not—” Kara began, but Cat’s fingers landed on her lips, silencing the denial.

“Yes, you are. Not that I’m going to hurt you, but that I’ll panic.” Her eyebrows climbed toward her forehead. “You needn’t be. I jump sometimes, but I’m no delicate flower.” She dropped her hands back to Kara’s chest to curl her fingers into her thick cardigan. “Far from it.” A firm tug brought Kara back to her when she would have pulled away. There was no more aggression this time than the first, but it was securely under Cat’s control. Staring into blue eyes, she gave Kara time and watched for any sign of rejection as she slowly pushed up on her toes, then her mouth found Kara’s and she drank in the young teacher’s low groan. Cat took time to explore, learning the shape and texture, discovering the way she moved when she shifted her lips to accommodate Cat’s, leaning in when she wanted more.

So much more.

They were both breathing raggedly by the time she broke the kiss. “Okay, that was...special,” Cat gasped as she drew back just enough to peer up at Kara.

Kara offered a dazed nod. There she was, an alien who could fly around the world in the time it took most people to cross a room and it took everything she had just to stay on her feet. “That was...wow.”

Cat laughed softly and stole another quick kiss. Reaching down, she caught Kara’s hands where they’d settled at her hips and tugged them around her waist, then snuggled into the taller woman.

“So you’re good with the holding thing then?” Kara murmured near her ear.

“Mmm.” Words harder with her hormones buzzing pleasantly and an unfamiliar sense of total safety, Cat cuddled into Kara’s warmth. Enjoying the way the taller woman’s body blocked out the chilly night air and the gentle fingers that rose to toy with her hair, a soundless, contented vibration settled into the base of her throat, any sound too soft to be heard.

Feeling cool silk curls slip over and through her fingers, Kara let herself enjoy the pure tactile pleasure of new shapes and textures pressed close. She’d never really understood the way some people talked about these things, like they were the whole universe. For the first time, she got it. She could have written sonnets dedicated to how much she wanted this. It was possibly the single best moment she’d had on this world since her arrival. “I think I could spend a lifetime like this,” she sighed happily.

“Mhm,” Cat mumbled, nosing deeper into the curve of her neck.

Smiling, Kara settled her cheek against blonde hair while she continued toying with the golden strands. Even knowing they should probably back off and turn the conversation back to something less incendiary, she couldn’t seem to let go. Instead, she nuzzled Cat’s ear only to stop as she felt a distinct twitch and Cat waved hand with a muttered grumble.

“Tickles,” she complained.

Kara leaned back enough to peer at the other woman as she trailed her thumb along the outer curve of Cat’s ear. The twitch was tiny, but distinct. “Your ear moved,” she said, fascinated

Tipping her chin up, Cat blinked a bit owlishly and was about to explain when Kara spoke.

“You have vestigial motor control of your ears.” She grinned. “Only, like, five percent of people can do that.”

Cat’s brows shot up, then she remembered. Right. Science teacher. “Yeah, Carter too.” It was a good thing to acknowledge, she told herself. If Kara glimpsed anything, she’d just assume it was normal. “When I was a kid, I’d practice, trying to get better at it.” She saw Kara lean to one side, trying to get a better look. “They’re really sensitive though,” she said, glowering just a bit at Kara’s raised hand.

Kara dropped her hand to her side. “Sorry if I...I shouldn’t have...”

Way to ruin a mood. Cat almost growled at her own lack of social skills. “No, it’s okay,” she said quickly, then her shoulders shifted in a small shrug. “I got teased when I was a kid.” As lies went, it was small and untraceable. “Like I said, it fascinated me.” True enough. Unfortunately.

“Well, I think it’s really cool,” Kara said softly, her tone meant to reassure. “Wish I could do it.” She’d never even heard of such a thing until landing on earth and while she’d read about it in a kid’s biology book, she’d never actually seen it in person. As far as she knew, Kryptonians hadn’t been capable of it.

Cat tipped her head to one side, peering at Kara with a slight frown. “It’s really not a big deal.” Or it wouldn’t have been if it was just the tiny movement possible by a normal human.

Kara shrugged. “I can’t do it.” She craned her neck, still trying to get a look.

Cat had never seen anyone so fascinated by the concept, not even a toddler who’d caught sight of her once when she was tracking Carter that way. The little girl had stared in awe and wanted to know why her mommy couldn’t do that. “It’s very small...just a little bit.”

“It’s unique,” Kara argued.

Cat surprised herself by reaching out and catching Kara’s hand. Her touch light, she guided the taller woman’s hand up to her ear, shivering as her fingertips just barely made contact.

“You don’t have to,” Kara croaked, her mouth suddenly dry. It was such a small thing, just the woman’s ear, by Rao, but her heart was hammering in her chest.

“It’s okay.” Cat couldn’t believe she was doing this, revealing something so intimate, even if it was in such a small way. She was careful, barely flexing the muscles. “They’re ticklish though.”

Kara nodded, outlining the shell of Cat’s ear with a single fingertip, just barely making contact as she felt the tiny movement. She swung her gaze back to meet the green eyes watching carefully, checking to make sure it was okay.

Barely even breathing, Cat saw the question in Kara’s eyes and nodded even as a tiny shiver of awareness slid down her spine. She hadn’t been lying about the sensitivity. What she hadn’t considered, hadn’t even been aware of, was how pleasurable the trailing exploration could be. Without planning, she turned her head toward the light caresses, silently encouraging Kara as she carefully outlined the complex swirls and fondled the ridges between her thumb and forefinger.

Kara felt another tiny twitch and saw green eyes slip closed. Trailing her fingers on, she half scratched, half rubbed the soft skin just behind Cat’s ear, smiling as she felt the flex and pull of delicate muscles.

Her breathing ragged, Cat leaned into the caress.

It was such a small thing, it shouldn’t have been erotic.

Somehow it was.

Then Cat’s hand landed on Kara’s chest, fingers flexing slowly as she tipped her head up, her eyes glazed. “Kara,” she whispered, “I—”

“Mom!” Carter shouted, sounding panicked.

Kara had never seen anyone change gears so fast. Cat blinked, the relaxed haze disappearing in an instant. She spun and was moving while Kara was still registering the boy’s cry. What Kara lacked in response time, she made up for with raw speed, catching up to Cat just as she reached the small livingroom. Remembering herself, Kara hit the brakes, slowing to normal speed as she saw Cat drop to one knee in front of the boy where he sat on the couch, her hands patting him down as she searched for any damage.

No intruders, no blood, but his eyes were wide, his pulse and breathing fast.

“Carter, what?” Cat sounded ready to panic.

He was pointing at the TV. “Isn’t that y—” He verbally stumbled and blinked as he saw Kara. Another blink and he swallowed hard before he continued “—your story? The story you were working on, I mean,” he amended.

Cat twisted, gaze following the line of his arm until she spotted the image on the TV. There was Jacob, looking worn, his arm in a sling, face showing visible bruises. A logo in the corner proclaimed the video ‘Courtesy of the Gotham Observer.’

Inset behind him was a pixilated, black and white security video showing a woman, shapely and all in black sliding sinuously into view from above. As she dropped down, sharply pointed ears were momentarily silhouetted and unmistakable.

Cat froze, unable to do anything but stare as she watched that version of herself decimate three men. Even deeply shadowed and poor quality, there were glimpses of her manic smile visible. Her hand dropped to Carter’s knee, partly to comfort him, partly for her own sake. He knew what she did. While she’d never flaunted it, hiding it had never really been an option either, but she’d never wanted him to see this side of her.

Never really wanted to see it herself either.

Then she was forced out of her daze as she heard an off camera reporter ask, “So why is this so important to you?”

Her stomach rolled, sick with what he’d doubtless say—what Carter would hear—how important it was to expose her, a monster stalking the night, and as she waited to hear the expected answer, it wasn’t even one she could argue with. She’d done plenty of awful things and even that night, she’d been no saint. She’d been there to steal and she’d beaten those men. Even if they were criminals, there was something horrifying about the joy she’d found in taking them down.

“Because this story is going to come out.” Jacob leaned forward, staring into the camera intensely. “That video’s too cool to stay hidden, so I wanted to make sure to get the truth out before someone else controls the message.”

Cat braced herself, firming her grip on Carter as she waited for the damning words.

“Catwoman saved my life,” Jacob declared.

Cat blinked in confusion, uncertain she’d heard right and waiting for the other shoe to drop. It did, just not the way she expected.

“Those men didn’t try to hide their faces,” Jacob continued. “Hurting me was fun for them, but they weren’t trying to intimidate me into silence. They weren’t going to let me go.” He paused long enough to grab a breath. “I was dead if she hadn’t stepped in.”

“Are you certain?” the reporter asked, sounding more curious than skeptical.

“Absolutely. Look, I’m a jeweler’s son and grandson. I’ve heard all the stories about her, but I also grew up in that neighborhood. I know men like that. If she hadn’t helped me, they’d have killed me.”

“According to the police, the men who attacked you say she blackmailed them into it.”

“They’re lying.” There was no doubt in his voice. “They had no idea she was there and thought she’d go down easy at first. Thank god they were wrong.” He straightened, wincing as though the movement hurt. “And I’ll tell you something else, people talk a lot about superheroes in this town. Wonder Woman shows up to escort some ambassador, Superman does his little flybys and whatever cape is wearing the bat-label this week shows up just in time to save some politician or stop some high profile art theft, but they don’t come into my part of town any more than the cops do.”

“You sound bitter.”

“I am. And before you ask, she didn’t steal from me when she got into the safe. I gave her the combination and told her to take that piece. I do a little silver smithing, and it was the only thanks I could give her. It wasn’t worth more than a hundred bucks.”

“Have you been threatened or paid off in any way to say what you have?” The question was sharply asked enough to make it clear the reporter wouldn’t accept a non answer.

Jacob shook his head and his response carried a fine edge of sarcasm. “I wish. I could use the money, but no, she didn’t pay me or threaten me.” He dismissed the very idea. “I’ll tell you—the cops, anybody who’ll listen—she saved my life. Whatever she did in the past, Catwoman was a goddamned hero, and she gets my thanks, and if she ever needs anything, she only has to ask and I’ll do anything I can to help her.”

As Kara heard the firmly spoken promise all she could think about was how Alex was going to blow a gasket. She actually listened for the howl of rage. Nothing. Maybe she’d taken a pain pill and gone to bed early. Hopefully. Maybe they could give her another one before giving her the news that someone had called her mortal enemy a hero.

Then Cat moved, awkwardly rising to her feet as she gestured to the TV. “Yeah, that’s the story,” she answered Carter’s question. “But I...I-I didn’t know about this. About Catwoman,” she specified. “I interviewed Jacob last week...about his store...his work.”

“Mom?” Carter sounded worried and Kara could see he was ready to hop to his feet by the way his shoulders tensed and his hands braced on the couch.

“I just...I didn’t know they had this footage,” Cat mumbled weakly and gestured at the TV as they reran the security video full screen with Jacob narrating events. “Barbara never mentioned—” she shook her head dazedly “—Catwoman.”

Kara frowned, then realized it had to be rattling to have worked so hard and been left out of the biggest part of the story. Given her insecurities, that one had to hurt. “Hey, I’m sure it wasn’t intentional,” she soothed and stepped forward. She thought about rubbing Cat’s back only to hold back. It wasn’t the time to risk startling her again. “Everybody probably just got so busy and involved with getting their own work done that they didn’t think to let you know.”

Cat stared for a moment, her brows drawing into a deep frown before she finally nodded. “You’re probably right,”

“I’m sure of it,” Kara stated confidently. She didn’t know Barbara Gordon well, but she’d seen enough to know she didn’t give even the mildest praise lightly. Maybe she’d been different before, but now she was intense and demanding on her most relaxed day. Reaching out, she moved slowly enough for Cat to pull away if she wanted, and settled her hand on a narrow shoulder. Full lips turned up in a proud smile. “And now you’re a part of what will probably be the biggest story to play out in this town for the next year or two.” Gotham wasn’t exactly a boring town, but Catwoman on prowl and playing the hero? Yeah, that was likely to get a lot of play. And that video, that was a viral meme looking to happen.

“Right,” Cat exhaled and seemed to waver on her feet. Her hand floated up near her temple, momentarily shading her eyes. “Biggest story of the year...”

Kara was startled when Cat suddenly reached back and flowed into her arms, wrapping her up in a hard hug. “This is great,” Kara soothed. “Your editor learned she can rely on you and this story will be big. It’ll help put the new business on the map and that can only be good for the people who get in on the ground floor—including you.” Feeling the way Cat’s heart was fluttering too fast to count the beats, Kara ruffled her hair and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Trust me.” She was startled by the strength in the arms wrapped around her torso.

“I want to,” Cat mumbled into the curve of Kara’s shoulder.

Feeling Cat tremble, Kara petted her hair and held her gently even as she resolved to give Barbara holy hell if there was any other explanation. The redhead wasn’t close to Bruce anymore. Dick’s death and her own injuries had left that relationship too damaged for even a pretense of friendship, but they were still family of a sort, and Bruce was still an investor in the paper. Kara was more than willing to use those connections or anything else necessary if it meant protecting the woman in her arms. Hell, she was tempted to do so just because of the way she’d been disregarded and upset.

Still holding Cat and gently ruffling her hair, Kara looked over at Carter. He was still on the couch, his eyes wide, his posture tense. To Kara’s eyes, he looked scared, which made sense. From what Kara had seen, Cat’s usual mien was all calm and confidence. It was probably jarring as hell to see his mom so rattled. “It’s okay,” she mouthed. “She’s just exhausted and stressed, and it’s all caught up with her.” She tried to make her expression as reassuring as possible. “She’ll be okay.”

He nodded, the movement a little jerky, then looked at his mother again before his gaze swung back up to meet Kara’s. “Promise?” he whispered.

“I promise. I’ll look after her.” She kept her voice nearly inaudible and nodded toward the short hallway that led to the bedrooms, comfortably certain Cat wouldn’t want him to see her like this for any longer than necessary.

He thought about it for a moment, then clicked off the TV and gathered up his books.

Cat lifted her head from Kara’s shoulder and met his gaze. “It’ll be okay,” she promised.

He glanced back and forth between the two women. “I know.” That said, he turned a pleading look Kara’s way, then looked back to his mother. “You can trust Kara.” His voice was so soft it was nearly inaudible. Then he slipped out without giving her time to reply.

“Damnit,” Cat growled and stepped out of Kara’s arms to stare after her son. “I scared him.” She muttered a curse under her breath and looked up at Kara. “You too.” Her tone was bitter. “Probably want to run screaming now.”

“Absolutely not.” Her touch gentle, Kara rubbed Cat upper back and shoulder, though she was ready to let go at the slightest resistance. “Running is the last thought on my mind.” She thought about it a moment. “And it seems a little early for any screaming.” The bold flirtation was tacky and deliberately overdone, but it did what it was meant to, distracting Cat enough to earn a watery smile.

“I’m sorry for falling apart on you,” Cat sighed. She rolled her eyes. “Maybe you should run.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Kara said grimly, her expression serious in the face of the startled look Cat cast her way. “I mean it. You got onto me for letting my insecurities rule me. Consider this returning the favor.” She brushed pale gold hair back from Cat’s brow. “You’re amazing, but you’re also exhausted and have had a couple of pretty intense days. Add in our conversation, which I think we can both agree was a little emotional, and some surprising news? Falling apart is perfectly normal.”

“If you want out... if you’ve changed your mind—”

“I haven’t.”

Cat looked up at that, her panic breaking slightly as she stared up at Kara. “Why not?”

It took Kara a beat to decide she was absolutely serious. “Did you not hear me call you amazing?” She framed Cat’s face in her hands to stare into her eyes with solemn intensity. “I haven’t changed my mind about anything.”

“You have to make me a promise.”

“All right.”

“I mean it. I’ve been trapped, Kara. I don’t ever want to do that to someone else. You have to promise me you’ll be honest if you want to walk away—”

“I’m not going to—” Kara tried to wave the entire idea off, but Cat wouldn’t let her.

“Promise.”

“All right.” Kara didn’t understand the desperation, or maybe she wasn’t ready to. “I promise, but I want a promise in return.”

There was a flicker of fear in Cat’s eyes, but she nodded.

“I want you to promise you’ll be honest if you want to stay.”

It took Cat a beat to process the request, then she nodded, mouth turning up into a small smile as the irony struck her. She closed her eyes against the caring directed her way, shaking ever so slightly under a wash of emotion. Her hand found the upper plain of Kara’s chest, palm settling, fingers spreading as she absorbed the gentle thud of her heartbeat.

“Cat,” Kara prompted after a moment.

“I want to stay.” Cat felt the burn of tears threatening. “So much.”

Kara exhaled a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding. “Then we’re okay.” Reaching out, she tugged Cat back into her arms and tucked her cheek against pale silk. “Because there’s no place else I want to be.”

* * * * *

Carter heard them talking softly, heard his mom’s voice slowly relax and turn soft, then a few low notes of laughter along with Kara’s light sing-song tones. His mom had been so alone all of his life that seeing her happy with someone was strange and a tiny bit of jealousy pulled at him, but mostly he was grateful.

He could see how she felt about Kara, the way she couldn’t look away, the shy little smiles and the giggles that were nothing like her. And Kara was no better. She’d stare sometimes, hem and haw others, then babble a bit nonsensically.

They were both worse than he was when he got a crush.

But that was okay because he’d seen how kind and caring Kara was and his mom needed that so much. The two of them had always been a team, but he was getting old enough to realize he could only do so much, and she had so much on her. Kara could help her with those burdens in a way he couldn’t.

He wanted that for her, someone who would protect her and keep her as safe as she’d always kept him. Kara could do that.

But with the Catwoman thing, he had to wonder if that future was possible. The whole city would be after her now and in the past, that had always meant running. He listened to their voices as they grew gentler and more openly affectionate and teasing. He didn’t think it was an act, but when his mom was desperate, sometimes it could be hard to tell.

He didn’t know what to do except hope for the best and wait to see what happened next

So he finished his homework, then read until it was time to turn out the lights. Later, he was drowsily aware of voices in the hall and the front door opening and closing again. Sleepy, but curious, he dozed for a bit, finally staggering out of bed when he heard him mom land on the balcony.

She’d shadowed Kara home again. That was the moment he was sure that whatever else was going on, she hadn’t been playing Kara.

He heard the TV moments later. They were still replaying the footage of Catwoman. It ran for several minutes—he could hear the man his mom had interviewed describing the attack—then snapped off and he heard the sliding glass door.

He found her out on the balcony, sitting on the floor with her back against the railing, arms resting on her upthrust knees. She was wearing Kara’s jacket, the collar turned up so it was warm against her cheeks, and he could hear a soft rumble, the rhythm fast enough to indicate stress. She looked up as he stepped out and he could see from the faint glaze in her eyes and the way her head moved as she tracked him, that language would be hard. She could get that way when the feral ran wild, instinct telling her to go to ground. Moving slowly, he sat down next to her, mimicking her pose. They stayed like that for a long time before he finally spoke, trepidation in his voice. “Are we going to run?” He hoped the answer was no. He liked it here. For the first time, the idea of leaving seemed less like a new adventure and more like a loss.

She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes swirling with doubts and fears, but also love and longing. Finally, she shook her head. “No running this time.” The words came slow, but were clearly spoken. She slid an arm across his shoulders and tugged him firmly against her side. “This time, we stay...”

* * * * * *

#Supercat #Cat Grant x Kara Danvers #Kara Danvers #Cat Grant #pinkrabbitpro #Chasing Fog #pinkrabbitpro art #pink rabbit productions #pinkrabbitpro fanart

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pengychan · 7 years

Text

Te Rerenga Wairua - Ch. 5

Title: Te Rerenga Wairua Summary: Found by the gods drifting at sea, Maui always assumed he had been thrown in it to drown. When that assumption is challenged, there is only one way to find closure: speaking to his long-departed family. But it’s never a smooth sail to the Underworld, and he’ll need help from a friend - plus a token that fell in the claws of an old enemy long ago. Characters: Maui, Moana, Tamatoa Rating: K Prologue and links to all chapters up so far here.

“Hey. Everything okay?”

“Hu-uh.”

“You sure? You look kinda distracted. Didn’t even hit that Megalodon like you meant it, you know? Left all the hard work to me. I mean, I could handle it, so no worries! Got a cool tooth out of it. Not shiny, so no problem if I keep this one, right?”

A shrug, and no real answer. Maui frowned, then walked up to Tamatoa. He was resting at the very edge of a ravine, one of the many in Lalotai, but it was clear he wasn’t paying any actual attention to whatever was below. Maui sat next to him, letting his legs dangle into the abyss. He stayed silent for a few moments, kicking his legs. A piece of rock fell down into the darkness, making no noise as though it never reached any bottom at all.

“… You were thinking we would find someone of your same species, right?”

Tamatoa let out a small grunt, and for a moment it looked like he wouldn’t add anything. Then he did, idly scratching his chin with a claw. “I guess,” he finally said. “I mean, Gran went on and on about this place, you know? How this is where we were supposed to be, how we’d be coming back when I got big enough to fend for myself, and so on. So I just assumed there would be more of us here.”

More of you. Because she’s gone and now it’s starting to look like you’re the last.

“Yeah,” Maui said slowly. “I can see why you’d think–”

“And you assumed I was from Lalotai when we met,” Tamatoa went on, now turning to look at him. “You said you’d seen others like me here.”

He had, but only few times; Tamatoa’s kind had been rare already when Maui had been a boy and first went to Lalotai. Even rarer after he left it, as a couple of them had tried to turn him into their dinner and hadn’t lived to see the next day, but saying as much suddenly seemed a rather bad idea, so Maui kept that detail for himself.

“Not many, really,” he admitted. “The numbers had been falling for a long time. There were probably few left by the time you were born,” he said, and shot another glance upwards. Tamatoa was still staring into the dark; he didn’t look saddened, not really, but he was uncharacteristically expressionless and his antennae were limp. Maui knew that meant he wasn’t very happy, either. He sighed, and reached up to rub his neck.

“I should have taken you here sooner,” he finally said. Sure, he’d offered to do so before, but only as an off-hand mention until that day. If he’d seriously brought it up, say, a thousand years earlier, would they have found someone of his species still alive? “I didn’t think… I mean, you seemed pretty happy on your own. Never thought it would be important for you to meet someone else from your species. If I’d known–”

But I should have known, he thought. I should have known because it was the same reason why I wanted to return among men, wasn’t it? Because godly powers and all, I still felt I was one of them. I wanted to be.

Unaware of Maui’s thoughts, Tamatoa blinked and turned to look at him. For a moment, he seemed almost confused. “I am pretty happy on my own,” he said, then paused, as though going over the statement in his head a second time. “… Yep. I like my island and I’ve got my treasure there. Never really needed to come back here, you know? Would have been nice to meet someone else like me, but…” a pause, then he shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll live. Plus, we’re not that sure I’m the last, right? There might be a few more somewhere else. The ocean is pretty big. If I grew up away from here, then maybe someone else did too.”

It seemed unlikely to Maui, but it was still within the realms of possibility, and he nodded, reaching to give Tamatoa’s side a punch. “Oh, yes. Maybe a female, who knows? So that you can settle down, and become her fix of protein as soon as she has a clutch of eggs to look after.”

Tamatoa made a face. “Oh. right. That part.”

“I mean, not all of them do that, you know? Some wait until the eggs have hatched, so the dad gets to take a look at his brood before becoming her breakfast as well as their first mea–”

“I think I got the gist of it, thanks.”

Maui laughed. “Why so squeamish now? Pretty sure you said you ate your ma and grandma.”

“They were already dead, thank you so very much.”

“If I didn’t know you, I’d almost say you don’t like the idea of being killed to feed your brood.”

“Well, duh,” Tamatoa muttered, then shrugged again. “At least now I see why my species is mostly gone, though. No one with half a brain would want to breed at these conditions. Only idiots who beget more idiots who’ll probably die some dumb way very quickly.”

Maui raised an eyebrow. “… Wouldn’t that make you an idiot?”

Tamatoa shook his head. “Nope. I got Ma’s brains,” he said, and grinned. “I mean that literally. I ate–”

“All right, all right! Enough!” Maui cut him off, and Tamatoa laughed.

“Look who’s being squeamish now,” he sneered. Maui was about to retort when he heard something coming from the darkness below them. He peered in and realization as to what it was - claws scraping against stone as something climbed up on the almost vertical wall - hit him just one instant too late. He stood with a warning cry, but before he could lift his hook something emerged from the darkness with a roar, a huge mouth wide open to show razor-sharp, gleaming fangs.

Had he had a few more instants before impact, Maui would have realized said mouth and fangs belonged to a huge lizard with scales red as blood. But he was given no more time before the being slammed against him, knocking the hook off his hand, and tried to swallow him.

Tried to, because the moment it tried to bite down Maui reached up with both hands and caught the roof of the beast’s mouth, causing it to growl - gods, did that guy’s breath stink - and try with all his might to bite down harder. The power in that maw would have annihilated any mortal, but of course he was no mortal; he had lifted up the sky, so of course he could hold up a some monster’s mouth open.

Except that it was really strong. Except that the roof of that mouth was so slippery. Except that if he lost his grip, even for a second, if his hands slipped–

“Hey!”

Tamatoa’s voice reached Maui’s ears only one moment before a loud thud, and the next instant it was as though all air had been knocked out of the monster in a gust of fetid wind that blew Maui out of its maw. He landed on the stone floor, immediately flipped in a crouch, and looked up - trying to ignore the disgusting slickness of saliva on his skin and gods, it was in his hair - to see that the thing who’d tried to eat him was a giant, red lizard. And that said lizard was currently snapping and thrashing, clearly furious, under the weight of a certain giant crab.

“Hey! A little help?” Tamatoa called out, trying to keep the lizard pinned down with his claws, the sharp teeth and claws leaving scratches on his carapace.

Maui grinned, and reached for his hook, which had fallen nearby.

Not a bad save, buddy. Not bad at all.

“Help coming up,” he called out, and his hand closed on the hook’s handle.

***

“… And that’s how I saved his life.”

“You did not.”

“It does sound like he saved your life…” Moana said slowly, and shrugged apologetically at Maui’s accusing glance. She didn’t see the smug look Tamatoa gave Maui from behind her, but she had no doubt that was precisely what he was doing, because Maui glowered at him before crossing his arms.

“I had everything perfectly under control.”

“Sure. Until your arms got tired, and then…”

“I could have snapped that lizard in two with both hands tied behind my ba–”

“No you couldn’t!”

Moana winced, because that raspy voice didn’t belong to either Maui and Tamatoa. She turned suddenly, hair whipping the air and hand reaching for her oar. Emerging from the water, illuminated by nothing but the moonlight, was something massive and scaly. Yellow eyes gleamed as though giving out a light of their own. It was the head of a… a…

… Really now?

“What are you doing here?” Tamatoa snapped, turning to face the newcomer just as Maui grabbed the fishhook. “I mean, I do agree that he couldn’t have gotten out of it in his own - that’s what I said - but–”

“Pilifeai,” Maui snarled, cutting him off. “Why did you follow us?”

The huge lizard shrugged, or at last that was what Moana judged it had just done. With all of its body underwater it was hard to tell, although every movement caused ripples. “I didn’t. I was just having a swim here.”

Maui raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with Tamatoa. “Oooh, sure. Heard that? He was just passing by.”

“Of course. And I’m a red lobster,” Tamatoa snorted. He snapped his claws. “You know, I think I’m going to cut off that forked tongue this time around. Pretty sure you called me a bottom-feeder last time…”

“Fine, fine,” the giant lizard - Pilifeai, wasn’t that how Maui had called him? - conceded, taking a few steps back into the sea. “Maybe I was following you.”

“What for? I’m pretty sure you said something on how you knew better than getting involved in anything we’re up to,” Maui pointed out.

“I do. So I’m not getting involved. Just watching to find out who’s going to kill the other first.”

Maui blinked. “… Seriously?”

“Yes. You’ve been a bore so far, if I may add. I’d have expected the crab here to have lost at least another limb by now.”

“Hey!” Tamatoa protested, while Maui shrugged.

“You can blame her. She told me not to.”

“Maui!” Moana and Tamatoa snapped precisely at the same time. The lizard’s eyes paused on Moana for the first time since the surreal exchange had started.

“Oh. I didn’t introduce myself, did I? I am Pilifeai. And you’re the human who kicked the crustacean on his back, aren’t you? Leaving him all alone and powerless when his treasure was stolen…”

Tamatoa scowled, and Moana barely held back a groan. Oh, great, that was just what she needed the giant monster crab to be reminded of, just to make all of her efforts to be pleasant for nothing. “Actually, it was a geyser that knocked him back and–” she began, only to pause when she noticed a flash of white in the redness of Pilifeai’s scales - a grin. Realization hit her suddenly, and it was her turn to scowl. “Wait a moment. Are you trying to pit us against each other right now?”

Pilifeai sighed in clear disappointment. “Well, I’ll be. The human is smarter than both of– ow!” he trailed off with a yelp when the coconut Moana had thrown hit him between the eyes. “Seriously?”

“Scram.”

“I don’t take orders from a huma–”

Maui lifted his hook. Tamatoa snapped a claw shut. Pilifeai’s gaze moved between them for a few moments before he cleared his throat. “As I was saying, I don’t usually listen to humans…”

Moana smiled so widely that her cheeks hurt. “But you’ll make an exception this time.”

“Absolutely.”

“And you won’t follow us any further,” Maui warned. “Or you’ll be sorry.”

“Of course,” the giant lizard said quickly, and backed away; within moments, his head had disappeared under the water. A few moments of silence followed.

“… He’ll keep following us,” Tamatoa finally said, and Maui sighed.

“I’m ready to bet he will.”

Moana didn’t like the thought. Even though the lizard seemed to fear Maui and Tamatoa, at least together, he was huge enough to destroy her boat with extreme ease.

“Don’t worry about him, babe,” Tamatoa said, causing her to recoil. She hadn’t thought her worry had showed so clearly on her face, and most of all she hadn’t expected Tamatoa to pay any mind to her expression. “He’s not going to try anything with me upright and Mr. Mighty over here. I’d be more worried about the pig and the chicken if I were you. They’re not supposed to be doing that, are they?”

Moana turned to see both Heihei and Pua were hiding their head under the sand, and likely had been since first spotting Pilifeai. For Heihei, it was not unusual. For Pua… it was. With a sigh, she went to take the shaking piglet in her arms. “You really should have stayed home with mom and dad,” she sighed, letting him hide hide snout against the side of her neck.

“Yeah, about that,” Maui muttered. “I’ve kinda come to the conclusion your chicken is actually immortal, but I’m not so sure about the pig. Might be best to leave them behind with your boat a bit before we reach the Vault. There’s a small island just nearby, but far enough to be safe. We’ll pick them up on the way back.”

Moana blinked. “Wait. Why should I leave my boat there?”

“Because you don’t want to leave your anything unattended at the Vault,” Tamatoa filled her in. “They’re going to steal it from you the moment you blink. And believe me, it hurts when they steal from you,” he added before pouting. Moana kind of wished he’d stop doing that, but she did her best to give him what she hoped would come across as a sympathetic smile.

“Of course. So… who are they, anyway?”

Maui shrugged. “Monsters. Supernatural beings. Supernatural pirates. Sentients entities. A bit of this, a bit of that. The Vault is kind of a trading place for all kinds of guys.”

“All of them bigger than you, babe.”

“Thanks for pointing that out.”

“Anytime!”

“… Anyway. You think the beings who took his treasure have been or will be there to trade?”

“If they have half a brain, yes. They know Crabcake knows every piece of his collection. They wouldn’t want to be ever caught by him with the stolen goods.”

“Not unless they want to become a snack,” Tamatoa huffed, but Moana ignored him.

“Good point. So, how am I supposed to get to the Vault if I leave my boat elsewhere?”

“I’ll carry you,” Maui said, and Moana couldn’t hold back a shudder when realization sank in.

“We’re not going to fly, are we?”

Maui grinned.

***

The Vault, which Moana had imagined as an island, turned out to be something quite different. From up in the air, when she dared uncover her eyes, she could tell it had once been a volcano that must have sank into the sea long ago, forming a ring of stone not unlike the one around Te Fiti. But, in this case, there was no island in the middle: only seawater where the crater must have once been.

And, according to Maui, the Vault was right beneath the surface.

With a screech, Maui dove down towards the rocks, talons clenching harder around Moana’s arms. She had a few seconds to regret everything - most notably, not trying to swim to the place as opposed to accepting Maui’s quite literal ‘lift’ - and clench her eyes shut before Maui let out another cry and changed. The talons holding her up disappeared, but before she could scream or even open her eyes Maui’s arm was around her waist, and when the impact came it wasn’t her to take it.

“Aaand landed! It was fun, c’mon! Just admit you’re starting to love it!”

Moana opened her eyes to see the ground beneath her. Maui was back to his human form, standing on the rocks she was so sure they’d smash into only moments before, holding her under his arm.

“Put me down,” she croaked. Maui laughed, and was gracious enough to actually put her down on her feet as opposed to just dropping her. Not enough to keep himself from snickering when she leaned against a rock, legs shaking.

“You’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

“I really don’t think so. I’ll swim on our way back.”

Maui opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by a sound of splashing water telling both of them that something - someone - really big was coming out. Moana looked up to see Tamatoa emerging from the water, still chewing what she supposed had to be fish. Maui crossed his arms.

“I see you found the time to have breakfast while we waited.”

Tamatoa glared back at him, but made a point not to reply until he was done chewing and swallowing. Moana was kinda grateful for that. “Don’t even start,” he finally said. “You just got here.”

“And how would you know that?”

“The human is still green in the face.”

Maui paused, and turned to look at her. He stared for a moment, then he sighed. “Point taken,” he conceded. Mini Maui marked one point for Tamatoa, something the giant crab didn’t seem to notice.

“Can you walk, babe?”

Moana did her best to smile. “I’ll be okay,” she said, leaning on the rock in a way she hoped would look casual. But at least her head wasn’t spinning too much anymore. Tamatoa didn’t bother to enquire further either way, and nodded.

“Great. So, what now? We go barging in and grab all we can? ‘Cause I’d be down for that.”

“As much as I like the idea, no,” Maui said. “We can’t just barge in and take what we can. The guys in there would definitely fight back, and your said the hairpin we’re after is fragile. I can’t risk it being turned to dust.”

Tamatoa opened his mouth as thought to say something, but paused as though a sudden thought occurred to him, and eventually shrugged. “Fine. What are we going to do then?”

“I think it would be best to be inconspicuous for now. We’ll get in there without anyone noticing us and–”

“Right, right,” Tamatoa muttered, cutting him off. “Let’s get going.”

Maui glanced at Moana. Moana glanced back at Maui. They both turned to look at Tamatoa.

“… Crabcake?”

“Yes?”

“You’re waiting for us here.”

Tamatoa blinked, clearly taken aback. “What? No way! There’s treasure in there and I’m not going to stay out! Why should I?”

“Because we need to be - wait for it - inconspicuous.”

Tamatoa blinked again.

“… We need to go unnoticed?” Maui tried again.

A scowl. “I know! I heard you the first time,” he protested, causing Maui to sigh.

“All right, Crabby. Do you think you’re inconspicuous?”

Tamatoa opened his mouth, lifting a claw, then he paused and closed his mouth again. He looked down at himself, then his eyes shifted to Moana as though looking for a suggestion. She looked back at him - all fifty feet of him - and shook her head in silence. That caused the giant crab to frown.

“Aw, c’mon! I’m not even shiny anymore!”

“You’re still… rather noticeable?” Moana dared to say, and Tamatoa seemed to lighten up.

“Oooh, right! I still have some shinies! I can taken them off and–”

Oh, for Te Fiti’s sake. “You do realize you’re a fifty feet tall giant crab, right?” she blurted out, causing his claw to pause in the air. “You’re impossible to miss, shiny or not!”

Beside her, Maui shrugged. “What she said. Plus, they’ll know it’s you. It’s not like there are others. And you’ve raided this place plenty of times in the past, haven’t you?”

“Naaaah! It’s just been… five or six… dozen… times,” Tamatoa replied, his voice getting a bit weaker with each word.

Maui raised both eyebrows. “I rest my case,” he said. On his chest, Mini Maui marked two points for him. “If you show up there, they’re going to recognize your ugly mug in a heartbeat.”

“HEY! Who are you calling ugly?”

“You. Not shiny anymore, remember? ”

“Oh. Right. I mean– Human! Tell him to stop!”

Moana groaned, a hand pressing against her forehead. “Maui. Please,” she gritted out, fervently wishing she’d brought some fermented coconut milk along.

He chuckled. “Fine, fine. Anyway, you were doing one thing right, Crabcake. Get some of that stuff off your shell and hand it over. We’re going to need it.”

Tamatoa reared back as though struck. “What? No! Why?”

“Use what little brain you’ve got! We’re supposed to pretend we’re there to trade. Can’t really do that if we show up empty-handed, can we?”

“But–!”

“We’ll bring everything back,” Moana promised. “Plus some, if we can.”

Tamatoa crossed his claws. “You must. Your promised you would help me get my treasure back, and you’ve got to deliver! If you just come back with a bunch of hairpins for me to check out, I’ll… huh.”

“You’ll huh us? So scary,” Maui scoffed. “What is it, are you taking a break to think up some original threat, or–”

“All that fog wasn’t there before, was it?”

“… Huh?”

Both Maui and Moana turned to see that… well, he was right. A fog bank was moving in towards them from the open sea; it was still quite some distance away, but the fact alone it hadn’t been visible minutes before showed just how quickly it was moving. In such an otherwise clear day, it seemed to have come out of nowhere… and the sound of drums in the distance told them precisely what was hidden in it.

“Kakamora,” Maui hissed.

“Huh,” Moana said.

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Tamatoa pointed out.

“But… didn’t we sort of destroy their ship? Ships? However you call that thing?”

“Don’t underestimate how quickly they can repair things. They’re resourceful little thorns in the side.”

“They must be heading to the Vault, too,” Tamatoa mused. “Which means…” he paused, and his face lit up in a grin. He looked down, and Moana realized Maui was looking up, matching it with a grin of his own. For one moment, it was as though she just got a glimpse at how things were between them a long time before.

“They’ve got to be loaded with treasure.”

“Your weight in gold that some of it is my treasure,” Tamatoa said, sounding all the world like an excited child. “Those sneaky little creeps hadn’t left Lalotai in forever and the Kakamora have a knack for finding valuables - I bet at least some of them were robbed blind as soon as they were out!”

“Yeah, if anyone could pull that off, it’s the coconut heads over there,” Maui agreed. “All right, new plan. Let’s take on them first. I’ll make them use up a few weapons.”

“Wait, wouldn’t it be best to have a real pla–”

“CHEE-HOO!”

Moana sighed, and just watched Maui’s hawk form fly towards the fog, and towards the dark outline of the huge ship - or ships, whatever she was supposed to call that trap on water. “All right then. No plan.”

To be fair, Maui didn’t seem to have any problem at first: he flew in and out of the mist, screeching, and avoiding everything - spears, darts, rounded projectiles Moana couldn’t identify - that was hurled towards him. If that kept up, the Kakamora would probably start running out of weapons really soon. “It’s working,” she sighed in relief.

“And I’m never going to hear the end of it,” Tamatoa muttered, something on his face that wasn’t too far away from a pout. He seemed about to complain some more, but he paused and squinted. “… Is the ship splitting?”

He was right: through the thick fog, Moana could see the outline of the ship beginning to split in two. It was nothing she hadn’t seen before, but it reminded her of a beast’s maw, and suddenly she wasn’t so sure about Maui’s brilliant idea anymore.

This is not good. They could have something up their sleeve. They must–

There was a cry, hundreds of high-pitched voices, and everything happened terribly fast.

With a screech, Maui shot upwards from the fog, up towards the sky, and he was almost, almost fast enough. For a moment, Moana allowed herself to give a sigh of relief. Then something else shot up, something that reached Maui and opened up in the blink of an eye. Moana had just an instant to realize what it was before the huge net closed on the hawk.

“NO!” she cried out, and tried to run into the sea, to get closer, but something huge and terribly strong seized her around the waist, lifting her up. Her legs kicked uselessly in the air.

“Hey, hey - what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’ve got to go and help!”

“He’s fine, babe. Just look.”

Moana did, and she realized that the net hadn’t been enough to bring down Maui: he was pulling against it with all of his might, and the rope that was clearly tethering it to the ship was pulled taut, ready to snap. And it would snap, any moment now… any moment–

Something else rose from the fog, like a swarm of insects, and there was nothing Maui could do to escape them.

Darts.

Under Moana’s horrified gaze, Maui suddenly went still. He stopped pulling. The net went slack. And then, the hawk form was gone; Maui fell back into the fog, and did not come out again. Moana found herself staring numbly at the empty sky for several moments before Tamatoa spoke.

“… All right, well. Not so fine,” he said, “I’m starting to think we should have sent your chicken.”

Moana scowled, and kicked again. “Let me go! Now!”

“What, so you can go swimming to your doo–”

Moana snarled, and turned to glare into Tamatoa’s closest eye. “I. SAID. NOW.”

The giant crab winced, taken aback. “All right, all right,” he said, letting her drop in the water. Normally she’d have protested that wasn’t quite what she meant, but it wasn’t the right moment for technicalities. She stood in the water, pushing her hair off her face, and looked up at Tamatoa.

“We must go help him.”

“Do we have to?” he all but whined.

Moana gritted her teeth. “You want treasure, right? It’s right there on that ship,” she snapped. “You take it, I take Maui, and we’re all happy.”

“Sure, but can’t we wait until they, say, cut off one of his limbs or–”

“We had a deal,” Moana cut her off, then made a terrible effort not to yell and to sound as calm and disappointed as possible. “I thought you were a crab of your word.”

He reared back as though struck, and scowled. “Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

Moana held back the urge to scream at him that she wouldn’t need to try if he had any honor at all, and forced herself to stay calm. “Please,” she said instead. “I need your help.”

A scoff. “What happened to Miss I Restored the Heart of Te Fiti?”

“I never said I did it all on my own. I needed help - everyone needs help at some point.”

Tamatoa didn’t seem convinced. “I never needed anybody’s help,” he pointed out, a challenging note in his voice.

But you need ours to find your treasure, she thought, knowing better than saying it aloud. “Maui put you back upright instead of leaving your helpless, didn’t he?” she said instead.

Tamatoa lifted a claw and opened his mouth. Moana raised an eyebrow. Tamatoa closed his mouth and lowered his claw, snapping it shut. “… I guess,” he conceded, looking away. Moana hesitated for a moment, then she stepped forward and placed a hand on his claw.

“Look. Let’s just go get Maui back. You can keep whatever treasure we find there, and we’ll call it even. Also,” she added lightly, “you’ll get to remind him of this every time you want.”

Tamatoa’s eyestalks shifted back towards her. “That is a good point.”

“Imagine that - getting to remind him that you just saved his life,” Moana pressed on. “And of course I’ll be right there to point out how amazing you looked like while doing it.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t really think I’m amazing. I’m not even shiny anymore,” he added, the whiny quality back in his voice.

Saying that she had found him anything but amazing when he was covered in treasure as well didn’t seem like the best possible move, so she didn’t. “Well, I do think you’re–“

"If you say crabulous, I’m out of here.”

“… Right. Well, if that’s what you think I think, this is your chance to change my mind. And get some treasure. And rub this in Maui’s face for the next thousand years. What do you have to lose? Unless, of course, you’re afraid of the Kakamo–”

“Fine, fine, enough,” Tamatoa cut her off. “You had me at ‘treasure’, anyway. No need to overdo it,” he grinned, and lowered himself to the closest they could get to eye level. “You make good points, human. Have I already said I’m glad I didn’t eat you?”

“Once or twice. So, are we going?”

Tamatoa nodded, and picked her up. This time, Moana let him, and moments later he had placed her right behind the top of his head. They both turned back to the fog; it was coming closer and closer, and they could hear the cheers and drumming coming from it. Celebrating the fact they had brought down Maui, no doubt. Holding onto the base of one of Tamatoa’s antennae - he didn’t seem to even notice her grip - Moana hoped with all her heart that they hadn’t done anything irreparable to him yet.

“You got a plan, Smart One?”

“I think I do.”

“Does it involve a song?”

“… What?”

“Your plan. Do I get to sing a song? Come to think of it, you never told me if you liked–”

“Let’s… just focus on the rescue part,” she cut him off, and glanced at the water between them and the approaching ship. “So. You know that thing you do to attract fish…?”

***

That, Maui decided, was not part of the plan.

All right, so he’d had no plan to begin with - but if he had, that wouldn’t have been part of it.

“Hey! HEY! That’s mine! Put that down! Put it–” he trailed off with a groan when the obvious happened: the bunch of Kakamora who had been trying to work together to lift his fishhook lost their balance and fell crashing down on the deck. Still wrapped in the net, unable to move thanks to however many darts they had managed to stick in him, Maui rolled his eyes.

“Just give up. It won’t work for any of you. Give it back, and I might be merciful - hey! HEY! You get off me!” he protested when a couple of Kakamora began bouncing on his stomach, causing Mini Maui to uselessly shake a fist at them. He tried to shake them off, but of course he could move nothing except for his eyes and mouth. And his tattoo, which were not very helpful at the moment.

Awesome. Absolutely awesome.

“GET OFF ME!”

The bellow had the only result of making a couple of them snicker, while a couple more approached with spears. Maui glared at them.

“Okay, this is the last offer. If you want to get away from here all in one piece– ow! Hey! Stop that! Ouch!”

More laughter, and a couple more Kakamora approached to prod him with their spears, but before they could come close enough there was a cry, and they all turned away from Maui. Under his perplexed gaze, they all rushed to the opposite side of the ship to look down, chattering among themselves and entirely forgetting about him. What were they staring at?

Well, whatever it is, it’s not me. I must make my move before they turn their attention back.

Except that he couldn’t move, and that made things all the more complicated. Maui bit back a grunt as he tried with all his might to move, but his body stayed limp and unresponsive, and he could only look helplessly at his hook, lying on the floor and forgotten about. Last time he’d been on the receiving end of one of those darts, courtesy of the Ocean, he’d been paralyzed for hours; now it would probably take even longer for him to recover any mobility, and the Kakamora wouldn’t be distracted for that lon–

“They won’t be distracted for long,” someone whispered above him, and the next moment someone was getting the net off him, or trying to, some seawater dripping down on him. Of course Maui knew who it had to be before he even glanced up, but he did all the same.

“How did you get here?” he mouthed, and Moana grinned down at him.

“I had a lift,” was the reply, equally silent. She pushed the net off him and lifted an arm over her shoulders, but of course she couldn’t pull him up: he was far too heavy. Back in Lalotai he’d been able to walk with her help, but now he was a dead weight she couldn’t move. She realized it almost right away, and leaned him down. “Okay. Plan B,” she said, and looked up, towards the Kakamora. They were still looking down into the water, mesmerized, when she called out.

“Hey!”

They turned back as one, of course, and immediately lifted the spears.

“… Whatever Plan B is,” Maui found himself saying, “It would be best to get on with it no–”

Moana smiled at the Kakamora, giving no sign of having heard him. “Hello again, guys. Meet my little friend.”

Wait. Wait a sec–

The entire ship rocked as though hit by a tidal wave, and the unmistakable crack of wood breaking filled the air. The Kakamora screamed. Maui was thrown against the side of the ship, while Moana managed to maintain her balance, snatching a spear from the hands of the closest Kakamora and kicking it away in the same motion. Not a bad move and probably one Maui would have cheered in other circumstances, but at the moment he was a bit too taken by the sight of a very, very familiar claw planting itself in the middle of the deck. The next moment Tamatoa was emerging from the sea to peer onto the ship, dripping water and… wait, why did he look so perplexed?

“Human?” he called out, the frown still on his face. The flurry of activity on the deck stopped. The Kakamora stilled and stared at him. Moana stilled and stared at him. Maui stayed still - not much choice there - and stared at him.

“What is it?” Moana finally said, breaking the sudden and confused silence.

“You meant me, right?”

“Huh?”

“Your little friend? That was the signal I was supposed to attack, right? Or was I supposed to wait for another cue?”

“Er… no, this was fine.”

Maui blinked. The Kakamora kept shifting their gazes between Moana and Tamatoa, completely silent, weapons down. Tamatoa shrugged, a claw still planted into the ship and seemingly paying no attention to any of them. “Oh, good. It was just kind of confusing, talking about a little friend, and I’m not little, am I?”

“Well… no, you’re not.”

“Why did you call me little, then?”

“It’s just… can we talk about this later?” Moana asked, gesturing to the whole situation - the Kakamora, Maui’s motionless form, his fishhook on the floor - with her free hand. “Possibly when we’re done here?”

Tamatoa blinked, then seemed to perk up. “Oh! Right! The rescue thing. Hey, Maui! I’m saving your life here! Are you taking note?”

“Believe me, I’m not forgetting this moment anytime soon,” Maui said drily. As chaos exploded around him again, the Kakamora clearly not willing to just surrender their ship to a giant crab, he sighed and closed his eyes, letting his head drop. He would never let him hear the end of it, would he? Of course he wouldn’t. Come to think of it, maybe it would be for the best to just roll into the water and drow–

CRACK.

The ship rocked again, this time a lot more violently, and Maui was thrown across the deck before he felt something beneath him shatter. Moana’s cry - “Maui!” - reached him only one instant before he fell.

Oh, come on! I didn’t really mean–

The thought was cut short by the impact against water, like a violent slap, and the sensation of sinking like a stone. He tried to move out of instinct, tried to swim, but of course he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do anything except stare up at the surface, hold his breath, and sink.

***

[Back to Chapter 4]

[On to Chapter 6]

#moana #maui #tamatoa #oceania #disney

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godseyegalaxy · 7 years

Text

The Flame and Wax Flower 1

Salt saturated the air and settled itself into the wood’s grains like the clusters of barnacles on the hull of the ship. The sails, ropes and every article of clothing were drenched with the sea’s vapor as well as the crew’s sweat, but still the group of men and women worked under the sparsely decorated mid-morning sky. On deck, piles of nets and heaps of dead or dying sea life twitched and emitted a layer of cooking rot that hovered inches above the carcasses. One by one crabs, urchins, and sea grass were picked up and thrown in separate piles accordingly while the fish were left on the deck for later.

Bodies carefully picked their way through the mounds as they pulled on ropes or cleared an area for the new load being lifted out of the water. A myriad of shouts coordinated together to pull the heavy net out of the water, up the side of the hull, into the air and finally over the steaming deck. Within three short commands, the area was cleared from crew members and the net dropped. Along with the sound of a couple hundred fish bouncing on top of their brethren, a loud thud got the attention of the closest crew mates. A series of calls for the Captian echoed from person to person until the message was delivered below deck by a sea sick girl to the Captian herself. A dark-skinned woman of thirty-something swung open the warped door with a bowl of oatmeal in one decorated hand and a spoon in the other. Icora already had her coat on her shoulders and boots laced, she handed the apprentice her bowl and spoon and started to tie back her tangled black hair into a loose pony tail. “Go back an’ lie down Martie- I heard the commotion from updeck when they started holorin’.” Icora gently pushed the lanky girl back towards the bunks with her elbow. “Alright cap’tan, tell me what goin’ on when ya get back, yeah?” Martie wobbled down aisle with the empty spoon in her mouth. “If you’re awake to ‘ear it.” Icora forwent the idea of tying her hair back and proceeded to wrap her forehead with a stained turquoise cloth, the common visage of the captain, as she climbed up. She threw back the door and shielded her eyes against the rising sun. Kicking fish out of her path, members of the crew ushered her forward wreaking Icora’s headache. She scowled, “Alright, Alright! Settle down one at a time, Brinkley! Where are ya?” The first mate pushed his way passed two large twins, “Here, Captian,” He turned to the crowd, “Back up, folks, captain's here, let's clear tha way an' get back to work!” A number of the crew nodded and returned to their task at hand while others backed away but still kept an eye on the situation. Icora slid her arms into her leather coat as Brinkley lead her to the far side of the deck. To the left another net sagging with the weight of fish was pulled out of the sea. A wall of bodies surrounded the object of interest and only when the captain announced her arrival did the fortress open up. The captain stepped forward to see a woman-like figure picking kelp from her hair on top of the mound of flopping fish. The mermaid glanced over frowning and made the effort to flip her iridescent tail over so that her body faced the Captian. “I thought we agreed to stop meeting like this.” The mermaid’s voice was low and smooth, but obviously displeased, however she spoke fluently and loud enough so the circle could understand her. A rarity among her kind; merpeople didn’t need a spoken dialect because of their usual underwater status. The mermaid flicked a wet clump away from her face, her frown becoming more prominent. Icora barked out a laugh that made the entire ship’s deck go silent. Her heels crushed a fish’s skull as she stepped forward and bent down to face the gray-skinned catch. “I may be named after Icarus, but you are the one that flies too close to the sun!” The maid scoffed and turned away from the Captian and tried to pull her way to the boat’s railing. “Very well! I’ll take my leave now.” The captain watched smiling as the crew sidestepped the topless creature as she pulled her body down fish carcases, her silver fin following uselessly in the damp heat. “Oh, come now, Cera, you just got ‘ere! Come, stay until the sun set and have a few drinks. We’ll share stories and a few laughs.” Cerinthe screeched as she was lifted by her waist up into the air by the captain herself. She clawed for the cursed wooden planks until she was flipped over and made to face Icara’s square face. “I insist.” Her broad smile was yellow, square and crooked and her breath was a sickening mixture of cheap gin and sea food. The mermaid reared back, pushing her body away from the pirate while her tail flailed for a solid surface as Icora spun around and presented her like a prize to those silently listening on deck. “Listen and look fast fellas! Someone specials payin’ us a visit! Treat’er nice an well and I might just let ya dogs have supper inside. Got it?” “Aye, Captain!” The bodies on deck shouted before returning to the normal work, letting the net on the left side drop to the floor. Cerinthe sighed in defeat and pushed her hands in her armpits. Looking away from her captor, she said, “I hate you, you know that right?” “Huh?” The Captain started to move back to the shade of the cabin; refuge from the growing aura. “I thought pirates and mermaids had great relationships with each other.” She laughed. Back in the dim light, Cerinthe shivered and shook lose droplets of water. Her tail slid against the wooden pillars and her hair stuck to the walls and slapped each step as they went down. The lower deck was only lit by a single lamp and the shards of lights that broke through the shutters and accompanied by the rhythmic swinging and grinding of rope against rope. Carelessly, Icora's boots pounded down the aisle, walking in time to the boats swaying. She barged through the doorway into the chaotic entanglement of hammocks, crates, and canvas sacks. A few feet from the entrance, Martie looked up, she looked sicker in the flickering light of her personal lantern, but at least the accompanying sight of puke was missing from the scene. The little island-native girl squinted her eyes and switch between the familiar sight of the astute captain and the merlady in her arms. Cerinthe mumbled and glanced behind her, also squinting in the red light. "Hey... Martie." "Oh, 'ello Cera... nice to see ya again." Cerinthe mumbled in reply while Icora set her down in the hammock across from where Martie lay. The majority of her tail settled on the floor and her hair made an ink pool beneath her. "Keep her company, will ya? I need to finish some work before we all talk." Icora lit another lantern above them and promptly left, footsteps fading until the undeniable sound of the captain's door opening and slamming shut. Something that felt like silence seeped in from the outside, or maybe from below. The lamp overhead oscillated, pulling the little flame in circles. The grinding of the ropes faded into white noise as Cerinthe stared half-lidded up to the dripping ceiling. Martie rested her head on the edge of the hammock. "Want me to brush your hair?" "Sure." She replied.

#mermay2017 #mermaid #pirate #the flame and wax flower #icora

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thestoryfilesblog · 4 years

Text

We were flying across the beach, girl and horse, with the wind rushing through us. The coolness of the spring afternoon air chilled my skin despite the layers of clothes I had brought on. The waves breaking on the sand were nothing but a blur of colour like a melting painting.

The sense of freedom beat into me and the thrill tingled in my blood. My heart was thudding in my chest the rhythm controlled by the pacemaker. This was my escape from all of that pain, treatment and medication. All of my heart problems were gone in the hurricane of wind and the excitement of sitting on the back of a running horse.

I could feel every movement made by King, my massive black stallion I was riding, as he raced on wards. King was all powerful muscle and sped thanks to him being a strange mix of mighty shire horse and fast racehorse. Shires were well known for their calm and gentle nature, but King was the opposite of that and acted untameable.

King was pure black all over, with a long mane and tail which I loved to braid. Today, his hair was flying free and adding to the magnificent sight he made racing along the soft sand. King was well over six feet high. I was five-seven and he seemed to dwarf me.

I sat low on his back, almost bent over so that I was aiding him to gain speed, which was an achievement in the black, bulky, protective body suit I was wearing. On impact with the ground the whole thing would inflate like a car airbag, hopefully save me from more broken bones due to falling off King. My hard riding helmet felt like it was glued to my head and shoulder length, purple dyed stuck out from underneath it. The helmet was another life safer in riding a dangerous horse.

King’s mane tickled my face and in a few snatched moments, it seemed we were one. I breathed in his thick, sweaty horse smell and felt the rocking of his body echoing through my own. I watched sand and sea zooming by then in the distance I spotted something out at sea.

I raised myself up and slowed King down which took a good few minutes because he didn’t want to and I didn’t want to anger him. He stepped first into a canter then into a trot. King clearer didn’t want to stop and it took me a lot to make him get into a walk.

By that time, we were coming upon something that looked like an avalanche of cliff. Lots of rocks and rubble worn smooth by the constant touch of the sea were jumbled over the sand. This maze continued into the distance, raising up out of the waves as it went.

The reinforced rock sides were slowly tumbling away and exposing more of the flattened stones. In some parts there seemed nothing left to support the stones and the sea was happily consuming them. Sand, crushed shells and dead sea creatures lay thick on what, a hundred years or so ago, had been a straight road towards a distant island.

King, unhappy his run had ended nodded his large head forward and snorted. He tried to pick up pace again, his muscles rippling underneath me and his huge hooves kicking up sand. King loved to run and could probably go on forever.

Breathing hard to get my breath back, I held the reins tighter, said gentle words and patted his long neck. King came to a stop but his towering, thick legs jigged about. King had so much pent in energy after the winter months because I had been unwell and winter conditions weren’t good to ride in.

Now, spring was here and the best place to let King run was the beach which stretched for miles. Hardly anyone came here because was this the middle of nowhere and access wasn’t easy because of cliffs and sand dunes. Also, the beaches around here with private, owned by the people who’s lone houses stood like dead giants on the edges of the cliffs.

The Grey Causeway, for that was the name of the remains of the road before me, only became visible at low tide on a calm day. The sea waves swept aside and dropped whilst red crabs scuttled over the exposed rocks. Seaweed and moss started to dry out but were still slimy to the touch. Pools of water lingered in between the stones, trapping fish until the tide rose again.

The afternoon sun was half covered by white and grey clouds growing heavy with rain. A few birds wheeled in the sky searching for fish to take back to their nests on the cliffs. The waves were lapping quietly for a change as it was known to all ways been rough here. There was little breeze and the air was cool with the lingering of winter.

‘Let’s do some exploring,’ I said and directed King to turn onto the remains of the road.

King refused with a stamp of his right hoof and a loud neigh. He tossed his head right up, his black mane almost whipping against me and the reins tugging hard. His shoulders bunched and the rest of his body began to fall back on itself. His tail hit the back of his legs in anger, setting loose sand that had become caught. He was getting ready to rear.

King was stubborn and hated to feel like he wasn’t in control all the time. It was his way or no way at all which made riding him difficult. He was well known for throwing riders off and causing other horse to join him in a stampede. No one trusted King and he would have been moved on from my family’s riding school and breeding stables, if I hadn’t taken a liking to him.

I had lost count of the number of times I had fallen off King. Mostly it had be because he had reared and or bucked. Others, it had been because he had refused to jump a gate or go through a gap. A few times, he had moved whilst I was mounting and thrown me off balance. Once, King had physical pulled me off his back by biting into my leather boot and yanking me down from the saddle.

Still though, I couldn’t give him up. We had a strange bond; both craving a freedom that was hard to get.

I eased my grip on the reins and lowered them against his broad shoulders. I took my feet out of the stirrups and relaxed myself as much as possible. I shut my eyes and breathed in the sea salt and sandy air. I counted to ten and tried not to let myself tense up as I felt King’s back doing so underneath me.

It was an unusual tacit but letting King know he had control was the best way to deal with his anger. To try and push him now and be hard on him would result in him rebelling. His mighty body would rear and buck, he would throw me and race off, gaining the freedom he was all ways craving.

‘Hey there, King,’ I whispered, ‘it’s okay. Good boy, King. You’re all right.’

I touched him gently and give him a small pat. King nodded his head, the reins shaking as he did so. He give a grumbling sound that I felt vibrating into me.

‘I know you want to run and we shall. But the tide is low today and I want to go on The Grey Causeway and see what’s left on the island.’

King grinded his teeth against the metal bit and turned his head towards the causeway.

I took my chance, pulling the reins to the right side and giving King a small kick with my left foot, I told him, ‘walk on’ and clicked my tongue.

King obeyed and walked on to the remains of the road. I let the reins and my legs relax again. It had to seem like King had made the choice, not me. It wasn’t safe for him to run along the tumbled, slippy rocks, so I let him pick his own way.

The Grey Causeway was about a mile long and led to an island. Once, it might have been taller and bigger but now it was medium size rocky outcrop and at high tide the sea flooded the lowest parts. Greenery crowded the island and as we got closer the structure of a manor house could be made out clearly against the sky.

To Be Continued….

(Please note; this story was originally inspired by https://scvincent.com/2020/05/07/thursday-photo-prompt-causeway-writephoto. I made the choice to not use this story for my submission to this prompt because I wanted to further explore where this story was going and spend time creating a more polished narrative.

I decided not to use the imagine that came with the prompt but to find my own from a free to use photo site; https://pixabay.com/photos/st-michael-s-mount-cornwall-causeway-4394648.

I have actually visited St. Michael’s Mount in Cornwall on holiday and have on past holidays gone horse riding on beaches and coastal tracks which further inspired this setting of this story.

The photographs below are some I took of my visit to St. Michael’s Mount in 2012. All these photos are copyright to me. To find out more about the history go to https://www.stmichaelsmount.co.uk/).

The Grey Causeway To Brierwell Manor (Part 1) #story #writing #prompt #sea #island #manor #abandoned #horse #beach #freedom #mystery #life #drama #inspired #spring #writer #blog We were flying across the beach, girl and horse, with the wind rushing through us. The coolness of the spring afternoon air chilled my skin despite the layers of clothes I had brought on.

#abandoned #drama #freedom #horse #illness #image writing prompts #inspiration #island #life #manor #mystery #sea #Spring

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kayfabejake · 5 years

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WCW Fall Brawl 1996 PPV Review

Date: 9.15.96 / Arena: Lawrence Joel Veterans Memorial Coliseum - Winston-Salem, NC / Attendance: 11300 / Tagline: Wanna Play with the Big Boys? In a Cage?

There’s no doubt about it--WCW is hot right now. The nWo storyline is in full effect and Sting has supposedly betrayed WCW in a mind numbing heel turn. The WarGames cage is out tonight, and after having watch NXT’s version of the stipulation recently, I’m so excited to get back to the classics and review WCW Fall Brawl 1996: WarGames!

Diamond Dallas Page pins Chavo Guerrero Jr. in (13:07)

DDP and Chavo bringing barn burning energy right out of the gate

Immediately going to brawling on the outside and DDP is taking some bumpskis

Chavo bringing a belt out from god knows where and absolutely whipping DDP

Chavo is impressive at conveying the pride in his family here as he fights back against DDP’s heelish conquering of the other Guerreros

Impressive string of kip ups from Chavo

DDP has the full on ramen hair here looking like Kenny Omega’s weird uncle lmao

Badass ??spear?? off the top rope from DDP goddamn

Vicious elbow to Guerrrero’s face

DDP makes a huge kick and he slips like Charlie Brown when Lucy pulls the football away

The selling is fucking cartoonish in this match lmao

DDP just ragdolls Chavo into the next ring

Tremendous spinning powerbomb from DDP and a kickout WOW

Diamond cutter and the cover, DDP wins in a fucking hype opener

My Rating [3.75*] / Daddy Meltzer’s Rating [3.5]

Submission Match Ice Train w/ Teddy Long sub. Scott Norton in (7:08)

Already this match has more to go on than their match at Hog Wild. The feud makes way more sense and the stipulation synergizes with it well.

These are the big boys that play!

Ice Train hits a standing frog splash with RIDICULOUS height

Dusty Rhodes attempts to say “ventriloquist” and predictable hilarity ensues

Ice Train hits a suplex on a running Scott Norton, good shit

Nasty reverse jawbreaker from Norton

Teddy Long steps into the ring and goes one on one with Scott Norton, playa!

A pretty sudden finish to a VERY improved matchup

My Rating [2.25*] / Daddy Meltzer’s Rating [1.25*]

AAA Heavyweight Title Konan w/ Jimmy Hart pins Juventud Guerrera in (13:45)

Okay let’s talk about Konan...what the fuck? He’s doing a gang member gimmick, BUT he’s a part of the Dungeon of Doom and being represented by Jimmy Hart. This shit is all over the place lol

Konan threw Guerrara ALL THE WAY OFF the fucking ring jesus

JUVENTUD TRIPLE JUMPS ON THE ROPES AND LANDS A SPIN KICK SHUT THE FUCK UP

Suicide dive from Juventud and jesus he hits his head on the rail, hard

JUVENTUD JUMPS OFF THE SAFETY RAIL INTO A HURRICANRANA ATTEMPT, COUNTERED BY CONAN INTO A POWERBOMB FUCK ME

awwww a cute little grandma encourages Juventud to get up

Head scissors on Konan over the top rope then a reverse spin kick

WHERE DID JUVENTUD EVEN COME FROM THERE? JUST THE FUCKING SKY DUDE WHAT THE FUCK

Springboard missile dropkick from Juventud, this match is nuts

One thing: is the WCW Mexican Heavyweight Title a real thing? I don’t see a belt.

Google search appears to reveal that Konan is just bringing his belt from a Mexican promotion around, and he wore it to the ring at Clash of Champions.

450 spin frorm Juventud then another, different spin

Powerbomb into bridge from Konan

Powerdrop seals it, what a match

My Rating [4*] / Daddy Meltzer’s Rating [3.75*]

Chris Benoit pins Chris Jericho in (14:36)

Wow what a fucking dream matchup! Sorry for the lack of comments on this one, I was eating dinner lol

Aggressive, fast paced action between Benoit and Jericho, of course

Great mix of mat stuff, high spots, and flat out combat

Jericho screams a lot lmao

Ridiculously crafty hold reversals

Tombstone piledriver into springboard moonsault from Jericho! Goddamn!

Frankensteiner off the top!

My Rating [4*] / Daddy Meltzer’s Rating [4*]

WCW Cruiserweight Title Match Rey Mysterio Jr [c] pins Super Calo in (15:48)

The thing about Super Calo being based on a popular Mexican rap group is hilarious

Also, good Lucha things!

Calo’s greater weight causes an interesting dynamic here with Rey who is obviously tiny as fuck

Mysterio’s dropkicks are ridiculously crisp

Nice spinestretching spot over the top rope

Flip over the top rope! Senton splash!

Damn dude...I feel like I haven’t seen a WCW Cruiserweight match I didn’t like

DROP KICK DEAD INTO MYSTERIO COMING IN FOR THE CROSSBODY

Some other lucha stuff happens, a bit repetitive but still so so exciting

My Rating [3.75*] / Daddy Meltzer’s Rating [4*]

WCW World Tag Team Title Match Booker T & Stevie Ray “The Harlem Heat” [c] w/ Sherri & Col. Parker pin Brian Knobbs & Jerry Sags “The Nasty Boys” in (15:31)

Brawl to the outside at first moves to a standstill

The Nasty Boys are just so fucking chunky dude how are they supposed to defeat the absolute TANKS of the Harlem Heat

Harlem Heat double team

Chair is teased, yes please

King Bookah just tosses a Nasty Boy on out

Knobbs gets beat up on by Col. Parker’s cane and Booker’s fists

WOW! Sherri actually takes a bump and gets thrown into the ring

Botched count by the ref, he hits three and the crowd pops but there’s no bell

Double spike on the Heat!

The gap in athleticism here is...vast

Sherri breaks up a pin with Col’s cane and a win for the Heat! Hell yeah baby go Booker and Stevie

My Rating [3*] / Daddy Meltzer’s Rating [3.5*]

Grudge Match “The Macho Man” Randy Savage The Giant in (07:47)

Dope promo before the match by Savage

The match is pretty standard for a Giant match

Dominating savage over and over again, applying a massive Boston Crab

Savage constantly being lifted into bear hugs by The Giant and whirled around

Savage escapes with an eye gouge

The Giant hits a mega powerslam on Savage

Savage with momentum pins The Giant and Giant’s kickout pops up The Macho Man

SAVAGE POWERSLAMS THE GIANT

but Hogan shows up and distracts the Macho Man, who is beaten down by Hall and Nash off to the side with a chair

Referee Nick Patrick looks away as the nWo returns Savage to the ring, and The Giant pins him

My Rating [1*] / Daddy Meltzer’s Rating [1.5*]

WarGames Match Scott Hall, Kevin Nash, “Hollywood” Hulk Hogan, and nWo Copycat Sting “The New World Order” def. Ric Flair, Arn Anderson, Lex Luger, and Sting in (18:15)

Chills as Arn Anderson walked down to the cage to face Scott Hall. WarGames has a sense of grandeur to it that no other stipulation does.

AA is fucking ENFORCING in there hell yes!

Commentary is hot, yelling at AA to break Hall’s legs “like a dog”

DESTROY HIM ARN

nWo wins the coin toss, fuck

Kevin Nash jogs to the ring as fast as I have ever seen him move lol

Luger jumps the gun by about fifteen seconds evening the odds at two on two

Only AA is an overwhelmingly talented wrestler in the ring right now but everybody else is making up for it with incredible intensity

Hogan enters with impeccable timing, at one exactly

“Rip the clothes off his body!” Brain feeling a bit homoerotic

The hometown crowd is so hot for Flair, they’re demanding him

FLAIR IS IN THE RING A HOUSE OF FLAMES! STYLIN AND PROFILIN! HOGAN AND FLAIR FACE OFF!

“Sting” enters on the side of the nWo

REAL STING ENTERS ON THE SIDE OF WCW

Get in there boys!!!! What the fuck I’m marking out so hard

But Sting fucking leaves after cleaning house! Angry that nobody trusted him he tells Lex to shove it and it’s 3-on-4 in favor of the nWo

Lex Luger ��taps out” to fake Sting

Absolutely magical storytelling, a twist, and an incredible stipulation. The only thing missing? More actual...wrestling.

My Rating [2.25*] / Daddy Meltzer’s Rating [1.75*]

Final PPV Grade: B+

Storytellingwise, just an incredible PPV. A few great matches and an absolutely savage main event match. I’m not sure I agree with Sting exiting the main event and the finish was weak but knowing where this all is going has me so excited.

#WCW #fall brawl #wargames #ric flair #nwo #sting

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pengychan · 7 years

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Te Rerenga Wairua - Ch. 3

“Wakey wakey, Crabcake! Ready to go on an adventure?”

“… Bwuh?”

“Yes! That’s the spirit! Come on!”

Something knocked on his shell, and Tamatoa opened his eyes with a groan. The cave he lived in had no source of light aside from the bioluminescent algae growing on the small seawater pond that connected it to the sea - plus his own bioluminescence - so he had to blink a few times before he was able to really see much of anything. Then again, there was no need to really do it: even before he turned his eyestalks to peer over his back, he knew who it was. The voice had been a dead giveaway and really, there was no one else who knew of his cave and would dare to jump on his shell like that.

Standing on his shell, leaning on his hook, Maui grinned at him. “Sorry, are you sleeping?”

“You’re not sorry and no, clearly not anymore,” Tamatoa grumbled, shrugging and causing Maui to jump off his back before he could lose his balance. “How did you get in here?”

“Turned into a shark for the swimming part,” Maui said, and glanced around, throwing the fishhook over his shoulder. Tamatoa winced back, wishing he were more careful when he swung that thing. “Wow. I expected the cave to be big, you know, but not this big. And it was enough for your and your grandmother to stay in?”

“It would be a tight fit now,” Tamatoa muttered through a yawn. He was growing bigger with each passing year and decade and century, but of course his grandmother had been much larger. His kind never stopped growing until death - or so she had told him; he had never met anyone else of his kind to confirm or dispute that - and she’d been far older than him. By now he was easily the size of a small ship. “Wouldn’t have been a problem, though. She’d have thrown me out way earlier than this if she hadn’t kicked it first. Or gone back to Lalotai.”

Hadn’t he been busy yawning some more, he’d have noticed the grin on Maui’s face fading some. “That’s harsh.”

“Naah. I’m a big boy,” Tamatoa waved a claw dismissively before letting his eyestalks inch closer to Maui, not moving an inch from the hole in the rock he was comfortably nestled into. It was too large for him - it had been Gran’s sleeping spot - but that meant he could fit in it comfortably and also keep all of his shiny collection close while he slept. “So. What was it about adventure again?”

Maui’s grin made a triumphant comeback, and he puffed out his chest. “You and I, my friend, are going to achieve something amazing! East from here, in a bottomless pit, there is–”

“Treasure?” Tamatoa asked, his interest piqued, and frowned when Maui shook his head.

“Nope,” he said, causing all of Tamatoa’s interest to instantly evaporate. His antennae went limp.

“… Why did you wake me up, then?”

“Don’t you wish days lasted longer?”

“No. More time for me to sleep unless you decide to drop by.”

Maui made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “All right, fine. But humans would like it if days lasted longer, so we’re gonna lasso the sun.”

Tamatoa blinked. “We’re gonna… what?”

“Lasso the sun. He runs way too fast.”

He blinked again.

“But we’re gonna catch it with a net first,” Maui added. “As in, you are.”

“I’m going to catch the sun with a net,” Tamatoa repeated slowly.

“And then I’ll use my hook to lasso it and slow it down. Yes, I know it’s a flawless plan. No need to cheer too hard.”

“… Have you been drinking fermented coconut milk again?”

“That’s absolutely irrelevant.”

“I’ll take it as a yes.”

“Whatever. Bottom line is, I’m going to slow down the sun - it’s the stuff of legends and I’ll let you be part of it!” Maui laughed and reached to pass an arm around Tamatoa’s neck, squashing his face against one of his eyestalks. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’ll take it as a yes.”

“Hey, that was my line to begin with and– what have you got there?”

Maui laughed again, throwing the pearl up in the air and then catching it again. A really big pearl, too, easily the size of his fist. Where had be been keeping it? “Something nice n’ shiny for my favorite giant crab monster.”

“I am almost positive I’m the only giant crab monster you know,” Tamatoa said, but he did keep his eyes glued on the pearl. It gleamed so prettily…!

“But you’re also a good friend who’s gonna help me slow down the sun,” Maui said with a shrug, and threw the pearl up at him. Tamatoa caught it with ease, gave it a good look, then grinned.

“… All right. What’s the plan?”

“Plan?”

“You have a plan, right?”

“Oh. Sure. Hahaha! Of course I have a plan. Sort of. Anyway, we’re gonna need rope. Lots of rope, and lots of luck. Say, anyone in particular you’d like to leave your stuff to should anything happen?”

“Huh?”

“Asking hypothetically.”

Tamatoa rolled his eyes. “Maui?”

“Yes.”

“If we die, I’m going to kill you.”

“Pffft. You can try, Crabcake. You can try.”

***

“… And I could have tried to find them, you know? Back when they could be still alive. If anything to gloat at them, and then if it had all been just a big misunderstanding they would have said something, wouldn’t they? They’d have told me that I was wrong and that they never meant to abandon me, right?”

“Yes. I guess they would have.”

“And what did I do instead? Nothing! I just chickened out, no offense to your chicken, and never even tried to look for them. And now…” Maui paused for a moment, arms still lifted as though about to grasp something, then he gave a long sigh and let them drop. “… Now it’s too late. I mean, maybe they did abandon me and the kid Tamatoa saw being buried at sea was someone else, but either way… now I’ll never know,” he added. He sounded more tired than saddened, but it made something in Moana’s chest ache all the same. He wasn’t supposed to sound like that; it just didn’t seem right.

And she didn’t know what she could say to make it better.

With a sigh, she turned her gaze to the ocean. The sun had long since set - she really hoped her parents wouldn’t be too worried now - and the moonlight turned the waves to silver around the boat. In the distance, she could barely make out the shapes of a few manta rays that–

Wait. Wait just a moment.

“It’s not too late!” she exclaimed, jumping to her feet and causing Maui to yelp in surprise.

“Gah! What was that about?”

Moana smiled, so wide that it made her cheeks hurt, and grasped her necklace with both hands. “It’s not too late!” she repeated, holding the necklace up. Maui blinked at it.

“Uh. Yes. It’s.. very pretty?”

… All right, so maybe she hadn’t explained herself all that well.

“I mean, your family!” Moana said, reaching to grab his shoulder to shake him. Well, try to: he didn’t move a single inch, but it was the thought that mattered. “They may be gone, but so is my Grandma, and she came to me! Our ancestors are never really gone. I mean, you should go! You’re the demigod here!”

There was a spark of something that looked much like hope on Maui’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “It’s not so simple. Your grandmother would have known where to find you. She knew you. My parents… don’t. They wouldn’t even know I lived - why would they look for me in the land of the living?”

“But we can look for them, right?”

Maui blinked at her. “We,” he repeated, and Moana shrugged.

“Of course I’m not letting you do this on your own. More on point, can we look for them instead? There is an afterlife, so they have to be somewhere! It’s just a matter of finding them!”

Maui laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

Gradually, Moana’s smile turned into a frown. “What? What did I say that sounded so funny?”

“You think - heh! You think we can just go and waltz into the Underworld?”

“Well, we already were in Lalotai, so…”

“Lalotai doesn’t have Hine-nui-te-pō guarding it,” Maui said with a lopsided grin. “Great woman of the night. Skin of red earth, red eyes, lots of obsidian teeth in places where there shouldn’t be any. No, don’t ask,” he added, lifting a hand as soon as she opened her mouth. “Bottom line is, no one alive gets in. You’re not getting past this one by singing at her.”

“… Well, it worked once…”

“And won’t work again.”

“You don’t know ‘till you try!”

“And if it doesn’t work, we don’t get a second attempt. I’m not dragging you in this with me. And besides,” he added, letting himself drop on his back to look up at the stars, “even if I did get past her, do you have any idea how vast the Underworld is? There are more people who died over the millennia than there are in the world of the living right now. And I don’t even know what she looks like.”

Oh, right. Moana hadn’t even thought of it, but it was true. With a sigh, she sat down as well and let her legs slip into the water. She kicked in it, a bit absentmindedly, and bit her lower lip. It just seemed so… so…

“Unfair,” she finally said, a hand reaching up to her necklace, tracing its shape. “It’s just really unfair. There’s got to be a way!”

Maui gave a rumbling chuckle. On his chest, Mini Maui was looking rather dejected. “Heh. Don’t take the whole wayfinder thing too far now, kid. I’ll be fine anyway. I’m a big boy.”

He had a point, she knew that, but at the same time she couldn’t quite let it go: the sheer injustice of it gnawed at her. After so long thinking the worst of his parents, he had been presented with a staggering possibility and couldn’t even speak to them, to find out if it was true. Her hand found her necklace again, and closed around it.

There is nowhere you could go that I won’t be with you.

… But how had her grandmother found her? When Moana had been at her lowest point, when she had called for her without realizing it, she had come - but as the tales went, the ancestors who returned would remain close to the island where they had lived, while Moana had been a long way from Motunui, near an island Gramma Tala had never seen in life. And yet she had found her, in the middle of the ocean, as though she had followed a beacon. The heart of Te Fiti, maybe? No, that wasn’t right - it didn’t feel right. But then…?

I can’t leave you.

There is nowhere you could go that I won’t be with you, she had said. Moana closed her eyes, replaying the scene in her mind and trying to ignore the ache in her chest. That was exactly what she had told her, only moments after giving her the heart of Te Fiti and… and…

The necklace.

Moana’s thumb, which had been stroking the shell’s smooth surface, stilled. Her eyes snapped open. “The necklace!”

“… Huh?”

Moana jumped on her feet, causing the boat to rock slightly. “My grandmother! She found me when I called for her, and I think… I think this helped,” she added, holding up the shell once again. “Is that possible? It belonged to her!”

Maui sat up again and scratched his cheek, frowning in thought. “Oh, right. I think someone mentioned something like it once? Can’t remember which god, but hey, it’s been a couple thousands years. I’m almost sure that was it - something about a token belonging to the ancestor, like a beacon in the night, blah blah poetic stuff, for the soul to follo–” he trailed off abruptly, as though someone had just knocked all wind out of him.

In the dim light of the moon Moana could see his eyes widening in dawning realization. Then he looked up at her again and, slowly, he broke into a grin that mirrored her own. When they spoke, it was precisely at the same time, to say precisely the same thing.

“The hairpin.”

***

He ought to destroy it, really.

It wouldn’t have been much of a loss, all things considered. It had been a pretty, shiny thing once - when he was a drab little thing who made do with colored glass beads because he couldn’t get his pincers on anything better - but now it didn’t even shine anymore, not after so many centuries. It was burnished and brittle and just plain ugly; even the gemstones had lost all of their shine. It wasn’t worth holding onto and really, snapping it in two would be really satisfying: after all, he would be breaking Maui’s stuff.

Not as good as ripping away his leg, but it would do. One snap of his claws, no effort at all, and he’d turn it into find dust. It would be so easy.

And yet he couldn’t do it.

It’s still part of my treasure, he reasoned. Part of a very tiny treasure now, one he couldn’t afford lose more of, all things considered. And besides… besides, that hairpin could be useful, after all. He still wasn’t sure how, but there was a nagging voice in the back of his mind - which sounded all the world like his Gran had, fittingly enough - telling him he should keep it, and keep it safe.

You never know, Tinytoa.

“Quit calling me that,” he grumbled to the empty lair, but he did tuck the hairpin in a tiny gap in his carapace.

Just in case.

***

“GIANT HAWK! GIANT HAWK! GIANT HAWK!”

“Seriously, kids? This would be the thirtieth time, I’m getting kind of tired and– GIANT HAWK! CHEE-HOO!”

The cheering from the children - and the adults, really - was almost loud enough to cover the screech Maui’s hawk form let out before flying up in the air, coming down again in a dive before sweeping up again. Moana had seen him doing that plenty of times as he worked to regain control of his own powers and that of his hook, but she had never seen him doing it in front of a crowd. Now that she did, it was clear to her how much he loved it.

And said crowd was loving it just as much.

“Moana?”

Her father’s voice was quiet, and Moana gave an inward sigh, already knowing what what was going to be about. When she turned, he was standing behind her with an arm around her mother’s shoulders, the fire casting deep shadows on their faces. They had been amazed when Maui had showed up along with her, of course, but now all that showed on their faces in the flickering light was worry.

She had sailed to the horizon and back, and still they feared for her.

“I’ll be fine,” she said before they could add anything else. “Really. Maui helped me restore the heart of Te Fiti, how to sail and wayfinding and… he’s my friend. I want to help.”

Tui and Sina exchanged a glance before looking back at her. “We won’t try to talk you into staying,” her father finally said slowly. “But I could come with you.”

“Our people will need at least one of us to stay,” Moana pointed out. She may be the Chief now, but her father had so much more experience, and the thought of leaving their people on that new island without his guidance didn’t sit right.

“At least let some of our best men come with you.”

Moana paused for a moment to drink some more coconut water, more to take time to think of something to say than because she was thirsty. She had reassured her parents that the journey to recover a token Maui needed would be short and most of all safe, but of course she could guess it was anything but: the way she had to struggle before convincing Maui that she was coming had been enough to tell her that. And she had no intention to put anyone else in danger - but saying as much would reveal her little white lie to her parents.

“You’ll need all the hands you can get here,” she finally said. They had taken some of their best men for the journey, of course, but not all of them, as many had stayed on Motunui to tend to their island. “To explore this whole place, hunt, fish, plant the harvest. I can’t take them away from here for no reason.”

As her father nodded, conceding the point, it was her mother to speak.

“She is right. Besides, a demigod will be with her. What would be safer–”

“LOOK! SHARK HEAD!” Moana heard Maui yelling, to roaring laughter. Her parents looked behind her at the scene, expressions turning even more concerned. Their eyes flickered back and forth between her and the scene. Moana cringed a bit and decided it would be best not to turn and look.

“Also,” she added, maybe just a bit too quickly, “our ancestors will be watching over me.”

***

When Moana’s boat left the new island the next day, with no one but her and Maui on board, everyone stayed at the shore to watch them disappear towards the rising sun. Tui and Sina stayed longest, eyes fixed on the horizon as the sky climbed up in the sky.

“Our people used to know her as Chief Tui’s daughter,” her husband said after a very long silence. “Their children and their children’s children will know me as Chief Moana’s father.”

Sina smiled, and reached to take her husband’s hand. “You should be proud.”

“I couldn’t be prouder,” Tui said. “And I couldn’t be more scared.”

“Of course you are. You may live to be a hundred, see her become a grandmother, and still worry for your child. That’s what parents do,” she said, and sighed. “We set them free into the world, hope for the best, and tend to their pig and chicken until they return,” she added, and looked down.

Only to pause, and frown.

“… Wait. Where are they?”

***

“A chicken and a pig now? Really?”

“Bwooook!”

“They were supposed to stay home with my parents! I had even checked to make sure Hehei wasn’t hiding here– Pua, no! Come here! Stay! Stay!”

“Hey, at least we’ve got something to eat if things get bad.”

“Maui!”

“Not the chicken, not the chicken! He’s off limits, I know. But the pig looks nice and juicy, so– hey, wait, why is he looking at me like that? Aaagh! Okay! Sorry! I won’t eat you! Make him stop!”

“Oh no. You brought it on yours– wait, wait, we have to go back! Chicken at sea!”

“All right, but they’re not coming inside Lalotai with me.”

“No, of course they’re not coming with us.”

“Us?”

“Of course. I go where you go.”

“There’s no need to - here, got your chicken - come in there with me. I’ll just get in, find out if that bottom-feeder still has the hairpin, maybe clobber him a bit for good measure, and leave. If I get the hairpin, great. If not… we’ll think of where else it might be.”

“And if it turns out to be anywhere in Lalotai - Heihei, no - you’ll just go looking for it leaving me outside with the boat.”

“And the pig. And the chicken. Good company.”

“I’m not waiting for you outside. Got to make sure you don’t get hurt too badly.”

“Oh, har har.”

“That was not a joke.”

“Could be the beginning of one, though.”

“What could?”

“All of this really. So, there are a wayfinder, a demigod, a chicken and a pig at sea…”

***

There had been times, as the boat soared on the water’s surface and the wind filling her sails whipped at her hair, when Moana had thought that was what flying had to feel like. Now, as Maui dropped her on solid ground, on top of the spire above Lalotai, she could tell it actually was nothing like flying, and thank the gods it was not. That had been terrifying.

“Everything all right? Not gonna puke?” Maui asked as soon as he returned to his human form, sounding all too pleased with himself.

“Swimmingly,” Moana croaked, trying to tell herself two things: that she sounded convincing - she did not - and that the brief flight upwards had still been better than a gruelling climb - she had her doubts.

Maui chuckled. “Next time I’ll try harder,” he muttered, and threw himself down the opening. Moana sighed, and followed. The drop down wasn’t pleasant, but still better than the terrifying rush upwards, and this time the landing was far better, with Maui catching her before she could hit the ground. “You’re welcome,” he said, setting her down.

“Most people say that after being thanked, you know.”

“I’m not most people. And you were just about to thank me,” Maui said, then rolled his shoulders, and cracked his neck before he began marching towards Tamatoa’s lair. “Well. Time to go and clobber a giant crab.”

Moana followed, rolling her eyes. Lalotai was no less creepy than it had been before, strange noises echoing everywhere and creatures moving just beyond her field vision, but it was difficult to be afraid with Maui walking beside her, fishhook in hand. She had seen what he could do at his best, what he could face. “You were supposed to talk with him.”

“He talks better after a good beating. And I talk best after giving one,” Maui pointed out, grinning as the spiralling shell Tamatoa lived into appeared before them.

“I’m just saying that maybe we can do this without having to clobber anybody,” Moana said quickly as they reached it. She had almost no doubt that Maui would win the fight, but that was no reason to risk it. The smaller creatures inhabiting Lalotai were one thing; then giant crab another entirely. She and Maui had already come uncomfortably close to becoming his dinner. “Maybe you can just, uh, talk it out. You said you didn’t fight last time, and you did help him up. There’s no need to make him angry.”

Maui rolled his eyes. “He’s not good at talking about anything but himself,” he muttered, but he did lower the hook as they approached the lair, and she supposed it was something. Moana nodded at him, and peered inside through the hole Tamatoa had broken in its wall when he had tried to chase them down.

Last time she had been there, the lair’s floor was covered in glittering treasure - enough for her not to realize that much of it was, in fact, the top of Tamatoa’s shell. Now, however, the treasure seemed to be entirely gone; the ground was bare… and so was Tamatoa’s shell.

He was resting in the middle of the lair, much like he had last time, except that of course he was now in plain view. It looked like he was sleeping, head resting on his claws and… no, wait, that wasn’t it. Moana frowned, squinting to see better, and caught a glimpse of something gleaming. Gold, she realized: Tamatoa had placed what little of his treasure he had left before him, encircled it with his claws, and was now using it as a pillow.

He’s making sure no one can steal what’s left.

There was something rather sad about it, and maybe Moana would have felt some small - very small; he had tried to eat her, after all - measure of pity, if given enough time to. But Maui didn’t seem to be up to waste even a moment, and hit the ground with his hook with enough strength to make it shake, and Moana almost lost her balance.

“Hey, Crabcake! Wakey wakey!”

“EEK!”

With a shriek that sounded nothing like the kind of noise a being that huge was supposed to make, Tamatoa lifted his head, eyes snapping open. Rather than standing, however, he seemed to flatten himself on the ground; when his eyes found her and Maui, he immediately pulled what was left of his treasure closer.

“You can’t have it! It’s mine!” he all but whined. “Human! Tell him he can’t have my things!”

Moana blinked. “… Huh. Look, we’re just looking for one little thing, and we’ll let you keep the res–”

“No! It’s all your fault I lost everything else! This wouldn’t have happened if you just stayed still and let me eat you!”

“… Am I supposed to apologize now?”

“Well, it would be a start!” Tamatoa said with a huff. “What did you think was gonna happen? You’ve got a monster taking a nap in his home in the realm of monsters, minding his own business, when a heap of protein on skinny legs comes waddling in–”

“Wait a moment now, I wasn’t waddling and my legs are not that–”

“… Making an awful lot lot of noise–”

“Fine, look, that was Maui’s idea, and–”

“… To serve as a diversion for the guy who ripped off my leg to steal my stuff!”

“Hey now, that hook was Maui’s to begin with, and you stole–”

“I found it. Not my fault he got his butt kicked by Te Ka and dropped it!”

“You knew it was Maui’s!”

“Yeah, and? Was I supposed to go looking for him and give it back all nicely after he ripped off my leg? I don’t think so! It found it, and so it was mine! I didn’t steal any– whoa!” he trailed off with a yelp when Maui struck the ground again with his fishhook, causing the entire lair to shake again.

“But you did steal something once, didn’t you?” he said, glaring daggers at Tamatoa. “And from a grieving mother no less. A golden hairpin. And I want it back.”

Tamatoa glared back, then huffed. “Well, tough luck. It’s gone. You may not have noticed, but most of my treasure was stolen.”

“Most of, yes. Not all of it,” Maui shot back, and marched straight at him. “And this is as good of a place to start looking as any. Let me see what you’ve got.”

“Hey! You can’t just come in here–”

Maui lifted his fishhook, not breaking his stride. Tamatoa seemed to shrink. “… Oh. You can,” he mumbled, and stepped back - very, very reluctantly. “All right, I’ll let you just this once. But if I see you taking anything– hey! Come on! Don’t throw my stuff around! Please?”

Maui entirely ignored him, and kept rummaging among the pile of treasure with no regard for any of it. Tamatoa stared miserably at the scene, then turned his gaze back on Moana, who was still lingering near the entrance.

If he lunges now, Maui might not be able to stop him on time.

The thought was sudden as it was chilling, and she suddenly wished she had waited outside, after all. Not that being outside on her own would have been much safer, but at the moment it did feel like it. She opened her mouth to say something along the lines of ‘I’ll be waiting outside’, but Tamatoa spoke first.

“So, did you like the song?”

Wait. What?

“Wait. What?”

Tamatoa frowned, eyestalks inching closer. “The song! You know, the whole big musical number? Me talking about myself in musical form? Right before I tried to eat you?”

“Oh. I… yes. I do remember that.”

“So, did you like–”

“Nothing.”

With a frustrated growl, Maui turned away from the small pile of gold and glared up at Tamatoa. Of course it wasn’t a surprise that the hairpin wasn’t there: they had already known that the odds it would be in the small heap that had been left were low. Still, Moana could understand all too well Maui’s frustration: his only means to speak to his mother, his family, may just be… anywhere, really. “You. Who took your treasure?”

The question made Tamatoa scowl, anger looming behind his eyes like thunderclouds. “Would be quicker to tell you who didn’t take it. It was a whole swarm of them.”

“And where did they go?”

“How would I know? I was stuck on my back! All I know is that they must have left Lalotai.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

A scoff. “Would you be lingering here after stealing my stuff?”

“Yes,” said Maui.

“No,” said Moana.

Tamatoa nodded and pointed at her with a claw. “See? The human got it right. She’s the smart one. I like her!”

“You tried to eat me,” Moana pointed out. Tamatoa grinned.

“And I’m sure I’d have found you delicious!” he exclaimed, sounding all the world like he was paying her a great compliment. Ancestors, he probably really thought he was.

“… Huh. Thanks?”

“You’re welcome!”

“Don’t go stealing my lines now,” Maui muttered, and stomped away, throwing the hook over his shoulder. “Let’s go. Wherever that hairpin is, it’s not here.”

Moana was about to follow, but paused - both of them did - when Tamatoa spoke up. “Sooo. You want that hairpin back, right?”

A few steps ahead of her, Maui stiffened before turning. His expression was icy. “Is there something you know and are not telling me, Crabcake? Want me to beat it out of you? Because if that’s what you want–”

“You don’t even know what it looks like, do you?” Tamatoa cut him off, taking a step closer. He was towering above them now, and Maui immediately put himself between him and Moana.

“But you do,” ha said. It wasn’t a question - it was a statement.

“Of course I do. I know every single piece of my treasure like the back of my claw,” the giant crab confirmed. “I could recognize them anywhere.”

“Get to the point.”

Tamatoa lowered himself to the ground, eyes getting slightly closer. Moana guessed that was supposed to be a non-threatening stand, but it was hard not to feel threatened all the same. “We both want something, don’t we? You want that hairpin, and I want my treasure back. Finding one means finding the other, or at least part of it.”

Maui raised an eyebrow. “… Tell me you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”

Tamaroa grinned. “Of course I am! I… I think?” he paused, and frowned. “Depends? What do you think I’m saying?”

“That you want to come with us,” Moana spoke, and Tamatoa’s frown melted into another grin.

“Hah! Yes! Told you she’s the smart one!” he exclaimed, a triumphant note in his voice.

“Forget about it,” Maui snorted, and Tamatoa gave something that looked a lot like a pout.

“Seriously? Do you know how many golden pins like that one I collected? How many are out there scattered in the ocean right now? A lot, lemme tell you! What, are you going to hoard every single golden pin in the sea and in every island you can reach? Hah! That’s gonna take so long your skinny human friend will have long since turned to dust!”

Maui’s scowl deepened. “Leave her out of this.”

“And why? You dragged her into this.”

“I actually kind of insisted to come,” she pointed out. Tamatoa blinked down at her.

“… I take back what I said about you being the smart one.”

“Hey! I tricked you once, remember? If I’m not the smart one, what does that make you?”

“Fine, fine! I take back half of it. You’re still kinda smart. Are you happy no–”

“You’re not coming with us,” Maui snapped, cutting him off. “I can throw you way further than I can trust you.”

“You don’t need to trust me - just to know me,” Tamatoa pointed out. “You know what I want. If you can help me get it back, I’m all for helping you out. A measly golden hairpin is no price to pay, and as for your annoying company, I’ll manage. You help me find the treasure, and, the moment I see the thing you want, I’ll know and tell you. How ‘bout that? I get my treasure back, and you get your ugly hairpin!” he exclaimed, lowering himself enough to be… well, not quite at eye level, but the closest he could, and extended his claw. “Have we got a deal?”

Maui snorted, and swatted it aside. “I don’t make deals with–.”

“Deal.”

“You can’t be serious,” Maui protested, but his voice was drowned out by Tamatoa’s.

“Yes! Hah! I knew you were the smart one, huma–”

“Only one thing,” Moana cut him off, and stepped closer, until she was right before him, and gestured for him to lower his head. “Come closer.”

Tamatoa blinked, clearly curious, but he did lean as low as he could, eyes inching closer and antennae falling within her reach. Moana reached to grasp one for emphasis, picked one eye, and stared straight into it. “This human has a name,” she said, and Tamatoa blinked again.

“Oooh, right. Was it Marina or–”

“Moana,” she cut him off, yanking at his antennae. It wasn’t a strong enough pull for Tamatoa to feel any pain - she was sure she couldn’t hurt him even if she tried to - but it did cause him to shut his mouth. “Moana of Motunui. I sailed across the sea, restored the heart of Te Fiti–”

“And awful waste, if you ask to–”

“And right now,” she cut him off again, more forcefully, glaring into his right eye, “I am the one thing standing between you and a very powerful demigod who’d love to make a ship out of your shell.”

Tamatoa seemed about to say something but didn’t; his eyes flickered towards Maui for a moment before turning back to her, wide and somewhat bewildered. Good.

“Keep your word, and you’ll have your treasure back. Break it, and I won’t keep him from breaking you. Is that clear?”

Tamatoa blinked, bewilderment turning into something closer to fear.

“Is it?” she pressed on, and tugged at his antennae again. When Tamatoa spoke again, his voice was nothing short of a croak.

“… Crystal.”

***

[Back to Chapter 2]

[On to Chapter 4]

#disney #moana #maui #tamatoa

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