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pennamesmith · 3 years

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Skeletor and the Princesses of Power

This is it! The final chapter. Whether you’ve been following these stories from the beginning or this is your first time (you can read all the Skeletor stories in any order) enjoy, and thank you for reading!

Scorpia hosts her first All-Princess Ball, and everyone is invited.

A lot could change in ten years. A lot could stay the same.

Ten years ago Scorpia had been a loyal Fright Zone follower, fighting for the Horde and scheming to attack the All-Princess Ball from within. Now she ruled the whole kingdom (they called it the Delight Zone these days) and with the decennial celebration approaching again it had been decided by unanimous agreement of the Princess Alliance that Scorpia should be the one to host.

An honor, in theory.

But Scorpia still worried, and wondered, and wanted desperately to do the right thing, even when she wasn’t sure what that was. Fortunately, she could always count on her friends.

“For crying out loud, just do it however you want,” Catra frowned through the viewscreen. “What are they gonna do, un-princess you?”

“There’s actually very little consistency in these social experiments,” Entrapta agreed, from another screen. “I’ve been doing some research and it would seem that nearly every previous ‘Princess Prom’” — she curled her fingers in imitation of quotation marks — “has ended in some form of unmitigated disaster. Most of the ‘Ancient Rules of Hospitality’ were added after the fact in an attempt to stop more wars being declared.”

“Wow.” Scorpia whistled. “That list is pretty long now. Does it work?”

Catra coughed. “Scorpia, we literally blew the last one up.”

“Chaos always finds a way! Aha-ha-ha!” Entrapta laughed.

“Oh. That’s less good.” Scorpia touched a claw to her chin, pensively. She was sitting on her throne (it had been Hordak’s, once upon a time, and her grandfather’s before that) and surrounded on all sides by loyal, thriving subjects. Nevertheless, in that moment, she couldn’t help feeling powerless and alone. No matter how many years went by, making choices as a leader didn’t seem to get any less terrifying.

“I just don’t want there to be any big unplanned problems,” Scorpia sighed. “Some of the smaller kingdoms still don’t completely trust us, you know? I need to make a good impression.”

Entrapta looked thoughtful. “If you want, I could send Skeletor over to help,” she offered. She leaned to the side, allowing a view of ‘Skeletor,’ a gangly reprogrammed Horde drone lurking in the lab behind her. He looked up and shook his fists.

“Myaah!” said Skeletor.

“I dunno,” Scorpia worried. “Are you sure he won’t be too… antisocial?”

“Everything I do is for the sake of evil,” Skeletor pointed out.

Oh, don’t worry!” Entrapta said. “We’ve been doing a lot of work on his people skills. Here, watch this!”

She cleared her throat and clapped her hair. “Skeletor! Initiate friendship mode two-zero-zero-two!”

Skeletor snapped to attention. “I am nice!” he announced with a smile.

“Very good!” Entrapta clapped again. “Now, activate decorating subroutine twenty-one!”

“What if we painted the ship a nice granite?” Skeletor wondered, glancing toward where Darla rested in the laboratory hangar.

Entrapta beamed. “See? He’ll have your palace ready for the ball in no time!”

“Well… okay.” Scorpia’s face brightened. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to have a little extra help.”

“Great! I’ll send him right over!” Entrapta giddily hung up her side of the call without waiting for a response.

“It’s going to be fine,” Catra cajoled as Scorpia nervously glanced back toward her. “No matter what happens.”

Scorpia looked down. “I just want everything to be perfect.”

“Remember, imperfections are beautiful!” Entrapta said, turning away from her darkened screen. “Ready to do your best, Skeletor?”

“Boobs!” Skeletor bellowed.

Two spindly robots poked their heads around the laboratory door. Skeletor was no longer the only refurbished Horde drone in the lab. In the years since Entrapta first made him, her work had continued apace. One of the new robots sported a massive metal mandible, and the other peered through a rotating visor affixed to its head.

“Trap Jaw! Tri-Klops!” Skeletor addressed them. “You know what you must do.” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Finally! Our chance to test the machine! Nyeh-heh-heh.”

“Ha! Ha!” the others answered.

All three marched off down the hall, laughing evilly and nasally as they went.

“Be good!” Entrapta called after them. She returned to her keyboard and went back to work, humming a little tune as she typed.

A tall figure stepped softly out of the shadows. “Are you certain this is a wise plan, my dear?”

The years had changed Hordak. He wore his blue hair longer, his shoulders stooped a little lower, and he walked with a gleaming metal cane. He still had the same warm smile he always wore for Entrapta, however, and his voice was tender.

“Don’t worry! I’ve got it all under control!” Entrapta spun in her seat and faced her partner. “Scorpia is going to have the best party ever! Speaking of, how’s your research going? Did you look at those diagrams I gave you?”

“Ah, yes.” Hordak produced a sheaf of papers, covered in sprawling maps of footprints and arrows. One was labeled “She-Ra Slide,” another “The Batusi.”

“Is dancing truly necessary to enjoy such a function? Perhaps I could use this opportunity to practice the conversational arts instead.”

Entrapta smiled. She stood up, and then she rose up, letting her hair bring her eye-to-eye with Hordak. She rested her arms around his neck.

“You don’t have to dance if you don’t want to,” Entrapta whispered, with a coy tilt of her chin. “But it would be a shame to let you stay a wallflower after Adora spent all that time helping you pick out such a nice dress.”

Entrapta traced her fingers down Hordak’s arms. He shivered under her touch. She held his hand and his hip. Purple locks pressed into his back. They spun, slowly. Back and forth.

“There, you see? You just need someone strong enough to support you.”

Hordak only held her in return, following her lead. Entrapta hummed a waltz and they turned together, moving to their own music. Hordak let his cane hang lightly in his fingers. Entrapta was still on her hair, feet moving on an imaginary floor far above the ground as she kept her red eyes locked with Hordak’s.

He twirled, and she caught him in a low dip. They kissed.

“Very well,” Hordak conceded. “You have convinced me, my love. Again.”

Entrapta rippled to the ground and scooted to another workstation, Hordak in tow. “Great! Now, I want you to look at these samples of thaumaturgic particles I suspended in bioelectrical dampening fields. At first I thought it wasn’t having a physical effect, but then I realized…”

Hordak listened. And his heart danced as well.

Catra ended the call and groaned. “I just wish Scorpia would stop worrying so much.”

“Can you blame her, though?” Adora looked up from the chair she was sitting sideways in. “Every kingdom on the planet is going to be watching her.”

“Why’d you vote for her to do it, then?” Catra stood up and paced the room. These days she wore her hair in a voluminous ponytail, and it bobbed anxiously up and down as she moved.

“Well, I still want the rest of the world to realize how much she’s done,” Adora said. “The Delight Zone is one of the strongest elemental kingdoms now, but nobody will treat them like that until they actually see it for themselves.”

“That’s a very noble idea, but are you sure it will work?”

“Oh, I know it will work!” Adora sprang to her feet. She was wearing that massive, guileless grin that always caught Catra off guard, and beckoned as she strutted backward out of the door.

Catra followed her, not even trying to hide how smitten she was. They chased each other down the glimmering hallways of Bright Moon Palace until Adora stopped in front of the most important room of all.

She pointed through the ajar double doors that led into the throne room. Court audiences had ended hours ago; now only warm peace filled the wide tiled floors. The Queen and King were there — Glimmer and Bow, looking overjoyed and radiant in the light — but they were not alone. Two other regal figures laughed with them, enjoying the simple pleasures of being a family.

King Micah, happily retired and as proud of his daughter as any parent could hope for. And Angella, the heavenly matriarch, no mere dream or illusion but really, truly, there.

Angella’s wings were open, and shining. A portrait of a miracle.

“You helped make that happen,” Adora whispered to her wife. Her expression radiated pride.

“So did you!” Catra deflected back. “And the other princesses. And really it was Entrapta and Hordak’s science that…”

“It was a team effort,” Adora admitted, shrugging. “The point is, you, me, everyone who used to be in the Horde? It may not be how Hordak originally meant it, but we really are doing good for this planet. Together.”

She looked again at the royal family. “And the people here do see that. They just have to really see it first to get it. Does that make sense?”

Catra could feel herself falling in love all over again. By now it was a familiar sensation. She smiled and put her hand into Adora’s.

“Believe it or not, I think it does.”

Scorpia pushed the silent screens away.

She knew, in her brain, that there was a lot she didn’t have to worry about. Most of the preparations for the ball were already finished, and she had plenty of help and support. Her feelings, however, were another matter entirely.

“Hey there, love bug. Your stinger looks a little droopy. Anything I can do to help?”

Scorpia turned gratefully at the sound of Perfuma’s voice. The flowery princess rounded the arm of the cushioned throne and leaned over to give Scorpia a tender kiss on the forehead.

Scorpia blushed. “Oh gosh, I don’t know. I’m scared I’ll mess something up on the big night and everyone will be mad and I don’t know how to make that feeling go away.”

“It’s important to acknowledge the feelings you do have,” Perfuma said. She gently reached for a bright patch of flowers growing from the side of Scorpia’s throne. It was far from the only plant in the Delight Zone; in fact, vines and moss and all manner of other green living things stretched across the floor, up the walls, and out the door, covering the entire kingdom. The explosive bloom had begun when She-Ra banished Horde Prime for good all those years ago. Perfuma and Scorpia’s ministrations had kept the new forest alive and healthy ever since. The people who lived there did so happily, in harmony with the world around them.

“And the best use of your energy is to focus on the things you can control,” Perfuma continued. She coaxed a few more flowers out from between the leaves. “You can’t control what people think of you, but as the Revered Hostess you can revoke their invitations and curse their family name for a generation!”

“Wow, I guess. Isn’t that kind of a lot?”

Perfuma laughed and tucked a lilac behind Scorpia’s ear. “What I mean is, you’ve made a good place here. The people who live in this kingdom had their lives shattered when the war ended. You were the one who took responsibility and built something healthy for them. We even have some citizens coming back from the Crimson Waste! Anyone who can’t see the significance of that needs to align their own auras before they go harshing anyone else’s.”

She waved at the moss-covered walls, and they burst into rainbow bloom.

“Of course, I’ll do what I can to keep things colorful too,” Perfuma said with a smile.

Scorpia sniffled, smiled back, and felt her worries, at least some of them, falling away like water off a beetle’s back. Perfuma always knew just what to say.

They hugged. It was still Scorpia’s favorite thing to do.

Seconds later, their embrace was interrupted by the ground exploding in a massive plume of dust and mortar. Both women yelped and ducked behind the throne. When the smoke cleared, Scorpia inched her way to the edge of the smoldering hole and looked down.

Skeletor was on the floor below. Trap Jaw and Tri-Klops were with him, clumsily clawing at the controls of an oversized ray cannon aimed upwards.

“Our trusty heat gun cuts through anything! Even your palace floor!” Skeletor boasted.

“Oh, it’s the decorators,” Scorpia said.

“Serenity now,” squeaked Perfuma.

On the night of the All-Princess Ball (theme: Desert Oasis Delight), light as bright as shining stars burst from Horror Hall. Swarms of princesses and plus ones filed excitedly into the party, some already swaying to the music pulsing inside.

Skeletor was operating the weapons check, with his two henchbots backing him up. A small robotic dog (a present from Entrapta, whom Skeletor had named Relay) stood on the counter and tried to look menacing as guests surrendered their swords, battle axes, and freeze-rays.

“What shall we do to make life miserable today?” Skeletor mused. “I’m not taking any chances! You’re not to do anything until I tell you, understand? If I can’t control you, our combined powers will have to destroy you! Absolute power is within my grasp!”

“Okay,” said the princess fidgeting at the desk alongside her date. “So can we, like, go in now?”

“Yes, yes. Get out of my sight, morons!” Skeletor muttered, waving them through. He shook his fists in the air and cackled. “Absolute power!”

He looked back toward Trap Jaw and Tri-Klops. “We’ll soon find out who has the nerve for our line of work. Let our evil grow! Let it reach out!”

“Hey there, bonehead!”

Skeletor whipped around at the cheerful outcry. The next group to approach the entrance were the Best Friends Squad themselves: Adora, Catra, Glimmer, and Bow, all dressed in their finest.

And there was another.

Angella hadn’t been the only long-lost relative the princesses found when they quested through the space between dimensions. Standing with Adora was another living First One, her own twin brother Adam. Once, he and the tiny band of their people Adora herself was taken from as a baby had been lost to time and legend, fighting on a far-off planet called Eternia.

Now, he was here to enjoy dancing, snacks, and social opportunities in a comfortable controlled environment.

Skeletor scrambled to get in front of the approaching crew, addressing Adora first. “What! You? Along with those ragamuffins you brought with you?” He puffed out his chest. “Oh no you don’t, She-Ra! No weapons at all!”

“I didn’t bring any,” Glimmer insisted, stepping forward. “Bow wouldn’t let me.”

“I think he means this,” Adora answered. She held out her hand, and the Sword of Protection materialized out of thin air. “Sorry buddy, but I, uh, can’t? Literally, I mean. Watch.”

Adora set the sword down on Skeletor’s counter and tried to walk away. Before she got more than twenty paces, the sword shimmered out of existence and reappeared in her hand. She looked back and shrugged apologetically.

“You think you’re handy with that sword, eh?” Skeletor harrumphed. “Very well!” He waved them in.

“Smart choice,” Catra smirked as she passed by.

“Some use their heads for something besides growing fur!” Skeletor snapped back, pouting. He allowed the royal couple through without incident, but held out his hand as Adam approached.

“Not so fast, He-Man!” Skeletor tapped his foot. “You flippant fool! I said, no weapons at all!”

“Weapons? I don’t have any weapons.” Adam shrugged innocently and turned around, showing there was nothing on his back but his pink tuxedo.

“Hmph. Yes, you are all right,” Skeletor grumbled. “Now go away, I have things to do!”

As soon as they were inside, Adam winked and reached over his shoulder, tapping the hilt of his sword. “Ha! Fooled him again!”

“How do you keep doing that?” Adora hissed. “Does it turn invisible or something?”

Before Adam could answer, a blur of purple swooped down in front of their group, bouncing and babbling excitedly.

“Hi everyone! It’s great to see you! Isn’t this party amazing?” Entrapta exclaimed, tipping her tiny top hat. She pointed with her hair. “Tiny snacks are that way, and dancing is over there! I don’t know if the music is loud enough, though. Scorpia said it should be really loud, so I was just on my way to upgrade the sound system!” She waggled a hex driver. “Say hi to Hordak if you see him!”

She hopped away before anyone could answer, laughing and swinging across the rafters by her hair. The squad watched her go and then turned to look at the soiree awaiting them.

Horror Hall had never looked better. Bioluminescent plants hung from the walls and ceiling and electric lights of every color whizzed through the air. An insectoid band played on a raised stage, strumming guitars and belting ballads.

Frosta and Sweet Bee seemed to be comparing notes on potential dance partners. Mermista and Sea Hawk were either flirting, fighting, or both. The Star Siblings had occupied the buffet alongside the Star Sisters (they were, it turned out, descended from the same millennia-old spacefaring families) while Huntara flexed for a gaggle of fawning fans. Netossa and Spinnerella were getting their pictures painted with silly props and hats.

Minor royals flowed around the floor, giggling and gossiping.

“Can you believe it? The great Double Trouble is here! And they’re with Lord Hordak’s brother! Well, one of them. The main one, who isn’t him. What was his name again?”

“Really? He must have brought them as a plus one. He is the Princess of Dryl’s brother-in-law, after all.”

“No, no, I heard they were invited because they still own the Enchanted Grotto, and let the Revered Hostess sing there as Lynda D’Ream whenever she wants…”

In front of the band, a small flock of clones danced together, moving their limbs in rhythmic imitation of robots. Some bee-people hovered by the punch bowl. And looking over it all was Scorpia, Perfuma on her arm, the arachnid princess filled to bursting with joy and looking like she had made it to heaven and learned how to fly.

Catra turned an ear to the music. “Um, did that singer just try to rhyme ‘world’ with ‘heard’?”

Adora laughed, letting it all wash over her. There was happiness in her heart. She hummed in delight, already beginning to move her feet.

She had a good feeling about this.

Once Entrapta had finished making the adjustments she wanted (and recorded some observations on the prolonged effects of mingling, and ran a few chemical makeup tests on the tiny food) she went back to look for Hordak and her friends. She skipped and bounded, mostly paying little attention to the party guests around her until she turned a corner and came face to face with a grinning skull.

“Oh! Hello Skeletor. I thought you were working the door. What are you doing this far inside?” she asked, pleasantly.

Skeletor had a mischievous glint in his eyes. “If I am to know my enemies, fool, I must study them!” he confided, letting out an evil chuckle. “Soon… Soon!”

“Oh. Well, have fun with that!” Entrapta smiled and continued on her way.

She found Hordak at the far end of the ballroom, chatting amiably with Glimmer and Bow. The band was in full swing as she joined them, playing a song that had something to do with trying and praying and getting up a great big hill of hope, for a destination. Adora and Adam were on the dance floor, heads thrown back as they sang raucously along with the chorus.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Adora called out, waving to the four non-blondes.

She jogged over to them, giddy with excitement. “This is going so good! Isn’t this good? Are you guys having fun? I’m having fun!”

“This is the best prom ever!” Bow agreed, throwing his arm around a giggling Glimmer’s shoulder. “We haven’t danced this much in ages!”

Hordak looked proud of himself. “Indeed. Even I have partaken of this ‘dancing’ ritual. Entrapta and I shared a very pleasant rumba earlier in the evening.”

Adora looked unimpressed. “What? Only one dance? Lame. Come on, we gotta get you back out there!”

She held out an inviting hand. Hordak took a few seconds to realize what she meant, and then flattened his ears in surprise, casting a panicked look at Entrapta. To his dismay, she only gave him an encouraging grin and pushed him towards Adora. Catra appeared and seemed even more excited about the idea, flashing two exuberant thumbs-up.

Hordak knew that resistance was useless. “Very well,” he sighed, and followed his foundling to the dance floor.

Adora was careful of his cane and held his arm gently, with a steady hand. Hordak had a moment to reflect that the girl he’d found as a crying infant had grown into a fine gentlewoman and felt a small swell of pride. Then the music started again, and they were off.

The first few turns went smoothly enough. Hordak started to relax, enjoying the music and the movement. He didn’t recognize this dance, but the steps seemed simple. Then there was a shift in tempo, and from the edge of his vision he noticed Entrapta repeatedly making an exaggerated elevating gesture with both hands.

“Okay, so this is the part where I lift you,” Adora said, her tone entirely serious and matter-of-fact.

“Wait, what did you —” Hordak started, but it was too late. Adora wrapped her arms around his waist and hoisted him effortlessly into the air, as dozens of dancers around them did the same.

Hordak windmilled his arms to stay steady, secretly grateful for Adora’s strength. He was vaguely aware of Entrapta applauding and of Catra doubled over in hysterics, but was far too focused on his own survival to worry about it very much. They turned once more, and then Hordak’s feet mercifully touched the floor again.

“There was a time not so long ago when I was the most feared being on this planet,” he growled to Adora, as the dance went on. “And you… lifted me.”

Adora smiled fondly back. “Yeah, you did great! Isn’t this fun?”

The music faded and they slowed to a stop. Dancers bowed to one another and the others gathered around again, laughing and clapping.

Hordak rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Yes,” he admitted, nodding slowly. “Much to my astonishment, I believe that I am, in fact, ‘having fun.’” He curled his fingers in the same quotation gesture Entrapta had used earlier. “Thank you, Adora.”

That was when disaster struck.

Before the music for the next dance could start, there was a sudden screech of feedback and the lights went dark. The crowd gasped. A familiar, reedy voice filled the room, cackling madly.

“Myehehehehe. Fools! Afraid of your own shadows! I’m afraid you’ve made a slip on this one. For your listening displeasure, a little concert!”

The lights came back up on the stage. In place of the band, Skeletor struck a powerful battle pose. Tri-Klops and Trap Jaw flanked him, glaring out at the frozen audience members.

Skeletor shook his fists. “Our alliance is over, fools! This is the way it had to end, with Skeletor triumphant at last!”

He held up an oversized remote control and pressed one of its many buttons. A giant trap door opened up under the dance floor, sending most of the assembled guests sliding into a wide pit below with loud cries of distress.

“Uh-oh,” Scorpia said, from her vantage point on the throne. “I knew it didn’t make any sense when he told me putting in that trap door really brought the room together.”

“Oh, there are pillows at the bottom,” someone’s voice floated up from the pit.

“Ha! Got you at last, you troublesome tots!” Skeletor chortled. “Trap Jaw! Tri-Klops! Make certain something unfortunate happens to our guests!

“Not cool!” another one of the guests shouted from below. “Why are you even doing this?”

Skeletor looked down. “A stupid question!” he chuckled. “To answer your stupid question… I am completely and utterly evil! I’d sell out anyone! Myaah-ha-ha!”

However, not all of the partygoers had been caught in the trap. Entrapta had Hordak and the entire Best Friends Squad snagged safely in her hair, dangling from the ceiling like a many-limbed mobile.

Entrapta hurled Adora and Adam across the room. They landed on the stage in front of Skeletor and started toward him purposefully.

“You’re a loser, Skeletor,” Adam declared.

“You’ll see who the loser is!” Skeletor whinged back. He pushed another button on his remote.

Before they could take another step, metal bars burst from the floor and curled around the twins, enclosing them.

“Cage mines!” Adora gasped. “All right, that's it. Time for She-Ra!”

Adora’s sword flashed into her hand. A moment later, Adam had his.

“For the Honor of Grayskull!”

“By the Power of Grayskull!”

Nothing happened.

“Ha!” Skeletor laughed. “That cage is charged with magic! Our power-drain ray takes your power away! You’re powerless against me now!”

“That’s a thing?” Adora muttered, bemused.

Entrapta threw Bow next. “I’ll save you!” he boomed, as Glimmer teleported to his side. “With my mastery of tech, I’ll have you out of that cage in no time!”

“Silence, you soon-to-be prisoner!” Skeletor sneered. No sooner had he said this than another cage erupted out of the floor, trapping Bow and Glimmer.

“Ha! Your ugly friend sacrificed himself for nothing!” Skeletor gloated. “You’re not as smart or as strong as you think!”

“My husband is very handsome!” Glimmer shouted, battering ineffectively at the bars of their cage.

“I’m impressed by your courage!” Skeletor said, nodding in approval at the young queen’s show of incredible violence. “There must be some way I can take advantage of this situation. Perhaps we should let this walking lightbulb do our dirty work for us!”

Glimmer yelled something enraged and unintelligible.

Skeletor shook his head. “No, it is I who should rule! I’ve done more than you!” he concluded. He seized a microphone stand and shook it over his head. “I have the power! Me! King Skeletor!”

“Not so fast!”

As if on cue, a new spotlight sparked to life, illuminating the throne at the other end of the ballroom. Scorpia stood there, one claw thrust forward at the invaders as she strode down the steps. Electrical energy crackled around her form.

“You are being very rude!” Scorpia scolded. “I didn’t wanna have to do this, but as Hostess, in accordance with the rules set down over the centuries, I would like to ask you politely but firmly to leave.”

A bolt of red lightning arced from her claw and knocked Skeletor to the ground with a startled shriek. Perfuma, caught in another cage mine, clapped and cheered. Skeletor struggled to his feet, only to see Catra landing nimbly on his opposite side, cutting off escape. Entrapta, Hordak draped across her arms in a flowing princess carry, touched down behind her a moment later.

“Fools! Can your army of has-beens match my evil servants?” Skeletor bleated. “Robots, get them!”

Trap Jaw and Tri-Klops rushed in opposite directions to take on their new opponents. Trap Jaw attempted to tackle Catra, only for his arms to close on nothing as she leaped out of the way. Hordak stuck out a foot to trip the stumbling robot, and Entrapta ensnared him with her hair.

Trap Jaw howled in dismay, clanking his metal teeth helplessly.

“Sorry Trap Jaw, I must think of myself, not you!” Skeletor called. He fled the other way, pointing to Scorpia and barking an attack order to Tri-Klops.

The three-eyed robot seemed distracted, however. Instead of going to battle with Scorpia, he hesitated uncertainly, anxiously looking back and forth between his cohorts. Making a decision, he abandoned Skeletor and ran to help Trap Jaw, who was still being held helplessly in the air.

“Miserable wimp!” Skeletor groused, watching him go. “The both of you are fools! A fine pack of sniveling cowards you turned out to be.”

Skeletor faced Scorpia. “How really unpleasant it is to see you!”

“You’re mean,” Scorpia said simply. She flicked the cantankerous bot lightly with one claw-tip, and he went careening backwards in a shower of sparks.

He landed near Catra, who hefted a heavy dish from the buffet table. “Hope you like spoo, buddy!”

“Spoo? I hate spoo!” Skeletor wailed as the food hit him in the face. “I don’t even know what spoo is,” he moaned, wiping the slop away from his eyes.

Tri-Klops had long since been caught in Entrapta’s hair and hung helplessly next to Trap Jaw. The two robots reached for each other in vain while Hordak tutted over them disapprovingly.

Skeletor cringed when Scorpia approached. “You’ve not heard the last of me!” he attempted, feebly. “Eek! No! Put me down! Down, you muscle-head!”

Scorpia paid Skeletor’s angry words no mind, as she picked him up and heaved him out the front door in one decisive swing. She dusted off her claws and a distant thud echoed from outside.

“Myaah,” a defeated voice muttered in the distance.

And that was that.

“Oh gosh,” Scorpia said when she turned back. “That got a little messy. Is everyone okay?”

The entire ballroom cheered.

Scorpia blushed, struck by the crowd’s approval. “Aw shucks. Well then, whaddya say we get you some ladders and go back to partying?”

The cheers grew louder.

The rest of the evening went as smooth as sandglass.

Adora waltzed with Catra. Scorpia and Perfuma orbited near them and the Delight Zone’s ruler leaned down to whisper excitedly.

“This is going even better than I hoped!” Scorpia exulted. “Everyone is saying we’re heroes! There are a dozen kingdoms asking for alliances already!”

Entrapta and Hordak danced close together, intertwined with one another and looking happily lost in their own little universe. When the music swelled, Entrapta used her hair to lift Hordak up above her head as he pointed his legs and stretched out his arms. They were clearly having the time of their lives.

Glimmer and Bow laughed by the punch bowl, trading inside jokes.

Adam was dancing with one of Bow’s older brothers. When Adora looked across at him, he grinned goofily and gave a self-congratulatory thumbs-up. Adora returned it.

Somehow, Trap Jaw and Tri-Klops had found their way to the dance floor. They rotated like a sprocket in each other’s arms, as the music implored them not to cry out loud.

Entrapta made a note on her datapad. “Well, that was unexpected. But I like the results!”

Scorpia took the stage to hoots and applause. She waved, smiling, and the crowd cheered louder. One of the musicians handed her their guitar, and she leaned in toward the microphone.

“Hello Etheria!”

The audience roared back.

Her claw crackling with energy, Scorpia strummed a powerful chord. So powerful, in fact, that the reverberating echo of it burst out of the speakers in an electric tidal wave that shook the walls. The room rumbled.

Entrapta punched the air. “Boom! Upgrades!”

The crowd went wild.

Later that night, somewhere in the Etherian wilds, the chime of a communicator pad rang out. Skeletor answered it with a laugh and a grin.

“Nice going!” he tittered. “Clever brain!”

“Thanks. You did great!” Entrapta answered. “It’s like I always say, the best way to avoid an unplanned disaster is with a planned disaster! Excellent work being evil, incidentally. You’re a natural, for goodness sake!”

“You flatter me!” Skeletor said. “I never ever do anything for goodness sake!”

“Fair enough.” On the other side of the screen, Entrapta spun idly in her chair. “Anyway, I think it’s safe for you to come back to the lab now. You want me to come pick you up?”

“And accept a favor from you? I’d rather walk!”

“Are you sure?” Entrapta tilted her head. “I could get the Doom Balloon and meet you in… what’s that noise?”

Skeletor was rustling a tree branch in front of the communicator’s speaker. “Some sort of interference. There must be another magician nearby,” he lied. “The fiend’s power is too great! I bid you a fond farewell, forever!”

“What are you —” Entrapta started, but Skeletor had already switched off the screen.

“Now, with one magical gesture the spell will be complete!” Skeletor crowed. He hurled the datapad as far as he could into the distance.

At his feet, Relay the robotic dog barked cheerfully. Skeletor would return, eventually. Perhaps. He always did. But not yet. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, contemplating his next scheme. It was time for him to start doing things independently.

Skeletor scanned the mountain range looming in the distance. It certainly seemed evil enough. “Hmm. Snake Mountain…” he mumbled quietly.

No, not mumbling. Rumbling.

Relay barked again, and Skeletor smiled fondly at the chrome canine, scooping him up in one arm. “We have a long walk ahead of us.”

In Skeletor’s other hand was a long oilskin-wrapped package. He untied it now, revealing a tall walking staff topped with a yellowing ram’s skull. Relay nosed at it curiously.

“It was He-Man!” Skeletor giggled in explanation. “The fool traded it to me for Eternian silver! He doesn’t know its value. Sometimes my power amazes even me!”

Holding his havoc staff and his best friend, Skeletor ventured into the unknown. He felt like he could do anything.

“Ha ha ha! Are you ready?” Skeletor said. “Let our power reach out once more! Myaaaah!”

#Skeletor #spop #entrapdak #catradora #scorfuma #super pal trio #Hordak #Entrapta #best friend squad #Adam #Adora #Catra #glimmer #bow #trap jaw #tri klops #fan fiction #genuine skeletor quote #smith stuff

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l-egionaire · 3 years

Text

My opinion of Alador is that he is ambitious and opportunistic like his wife but that's just because it allows him to fund and do his research.

Like, he does want money and power but the reason he wants those things is because they give him the security and time to focus on his work creating new weapons and abomination technology. He honestly strikes me as being like a slightly more amoral version of Entrapta. The most important thing to him is him being able to do his work so he could care less what he has to do to get the ability to comfortably do it. Sell probably illegal weapons? Fine. Work for the emperor? Absolutely. Let his daughter hang out with friends "below her status" and possibly date a human? As long as she can keep the moneyflow going so he can build more magic robot things, he's good with that. Whenever something happens he focuses most on how it'll effect him and his work first and formost.

#The Owl House #ToH #Owl House #alador blight #amity blight #toh analysis #the owl house analysis

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mvsicinthedvrk · 3 years

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i’m going to go ahead and make this a combination starter/plot call because i don’t have the time or patience to do one call and then the other

anyway, please LIKE if you want to plot, or REPLY W/ A CHARACTER OF YOURS if you just want a starter & i’ll either wing it or message you to plot if i have no idea

✌️

still in D.C. (in order of “dealing with this fine” to “not dealing well with this at ALL”):

ki yu ri-- ( 3 / ? with hardison, melody, yeon ) she’s not going to let these monsters take her down, no way. she can be pretty uh feral if the situation calls for it, which i believe it probably will. idk that she’ll want to partner with anyone she doesn’t know, but she can help watch your character’s back temporarily in exchange for food/supplies/etc.

peter pettigrew-- ( 1 / ? with john watson ) he’s a survivalist so he’ll be alright, but he will also ONLY be looking out for himself, so. he does have a functional wand as well.

martin blackwood-- ( 4 / ? with entrapta, chi woo, connor walsh, angelica schuyler ) he’s faced a lot of nonsense at the Institute. this is just. another day. he’s exhausted already. honestly you’ll probably find him in a zombie-infested library researching as many creatures as he can to figure out their weaknesses before making a plan to deal with them, all while staying as in-hiding as he can.

noah czerny-- ( 1 / ? with magnus bane ) he’s dead & a ghost already?? so he’s not really concerned about himself. he can probably do communication runs between people from different parts of the city. and he can carry small objects at a time so he can bring supplies to people. at the same time, he is worried about his friends, so that is a bit of a distraction

patroclus-- ( 2 / ? with cullen rutherford, will solace ) he’s fought in wars before. nothing like zombies, of course, and he doesn’t like to kill things if he doesn’t have to, so he’ll be trying to stay away from the main areas of danger if at all possible. i can see him getting trapped by a weeping angel or something.

yuri plisetsky-- ( 3 / ? with sandor clegane, lizzie midford, light yagami ) will be freaking out and angry that this shit is happening. can this city not calm down for two weeks at a time????? anyway, he really has no strategy other than “chuck heavy things at the monsters and run” so, questionable success in his future

orpheus-- ( 2 / ? with ko mun yeong, annabeth chase ) much like on the cruise, he doesn’t do well when others are getting hurt or when there’s massive danger. overwhelmed with worry for everyone in the city that he knows and cares about. he’ll probably try to sing at the monsters to make them calm down. it will not work

on the Island (again, in order of “dealing with this well” to “dealing significantly less well”):

wen kexing-- ( 1 / ? with luke skywalker ) his wuxia abilities, especially his qinggong lightness skills (like his genre’s version of flying, essentially) will be handy. he can also heal others by giving them energy, which might be useful. he’s had to rule over a gang of thousands of criminals for years; he feels pretty confident he can handle a couple natural/supernatural disasters.

wei wuxian-- ( 5 / ? with jin ling, kurt hummel, jester lavorre, jiang yanli / texts with vic weasley ) personality-wise, he’s solid in a crisis. he’s really creative and knows enough physics/engineering to be able to rig up some preventative measures depending on what disaster he’s stuck in. unfortunately, he does still lack his memory so he’s not as useful as he would’ve been if he had his cultivation abilities.

melanie king-- ( 3 / ? with glinda, jaina solo, bianca di angelo ) she’s not really about to trust anyone, friend or foe, to help her in this scenario. and she can’t punch her way out of an acid rain storm, etc, so... I’m not sure how well she’ll fare

pippin took-- ( 3 / ? with hallie parker, arwen, will byers ) on the plus side: woo, finally some adventure he’s been craving! some great stories are going to come out of this! on the negative side: he has very few useful skills or abilities other than the enthusiasm to live. he’s probably sunk tbh.

#hw: plot call #hw: starter call #hwevent12 #war mention tw #violence mention tw #death mention tw #long post tw

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spacebatisluvd · 4 years

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Content warning: More Sea Hawk. Some potential for secondhand embarrassment if you’re sensitive to things like that. Mild references to arousal. Strong references to anxiety and Hordak’s past in the cult.

Hordak looked up as a guard marched into his psuedo-office and dropped a parcel on his drafting table. Hordak eyed the box, noting first that it was addressed to him and sealed with Dryl’s sigil. Then he noticed that the wax seal was broken.

“This has been opened.”

The guard just shrugged, smirking. “Anything that comes through the port of Salineas is subject to inspection for contraband.” He turned to leave, pausing deliberately in the doorway to brush the dust from his boots and to spit on the stoop. Hordak said nothing. He’d seen the builders do the same thing early on. Strangely, fewer and fewer were holding to that habit. Perhaps they’d grown tired of such petty insults.

He set the box to the side, and Sea Hawk perked up. “Are you going to open it now?”

“No. I will open it later.” In private.

“But what if, hear me out, you were to open it now?”

Hordak looked up and sighed. Sea Hawk had draped himself over the top of the box, his eyes gone comically large. Hordak went back to his paperwork. “That does not work for Imp. It surely won’t work for you.”

“Imp?”

“My....” Hordak trailed off, realizing that he wasn’t sure how to refer to his relationship with Imp. ‘Little brother’ seemed the most fitting, yet he couldn’t bear to use such a designation. He exhaled slowly.

“Imp. He is just...Imp.”

“How delightfully nonspecific!” Hordak narrowed his eyes, searching Sea Hawk for any sign of mockery, but he seemed genuine enough. “But...this is from Entrapta, isn’t it?”

“That is her sigil.”

“You don’t want to look?”

He huffed. “My desires are unimportant. I need to finish this.”

“Not even a quick peek?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Just a teeny, tiny little peek?”

Hordak exhaled hard. “No.”

“...what if...I took a peek for you?”

He froze and glared at Sea Hawk, who was infuriatingly impervious. “I would advise against that. Strongly.”

Sea Hawk pushed the lid off the crate. “Oops! Well, since it’s already open....” He reached in, pulling out a small data chip. “Ooh! What’s this?”

Hordak lunged, snatching the chip from his hand. He growled, leaning close until he was eye-to-eye with the pirate. Sea Hawk held his hands up in surrender. “You really aren’t curious? Your beloved has sent you a gift! Perhaps in return for the gift you sent her!” Despite the intimidating glare and Hordak’s prior request not to be touched, Sea Hawk slung an arm over his shoulders and drew him close, using his free hand to frame an imaginary image before them. “Can’t you picture it? She is delighted, overcome with love, overwhelmed with feeling! In fact, she is so delighted that she has decided to reciprocate! And you don’t want to know what she sent?!” For the last question, he turned Hordak to face him, shaking him lightly.

Hordak shoved him off, still glaring. “Entrapta would not be overcome by anything,” he said dismissively. “Particularly not anything I did.” Excited? Perhaps. Elated? Enthused? Yes and yes. But overcome?

No. He could not imagine that.

In a last-ditch effort, Sea Hawk caught his hands and said, “Wouldn’t she want you to open it?”

His ears folded back, and he pulled his hands free. Nevertheless, the question gave him pause, and his words lacked their typical venom as he said, “Do not touch me.”

“Oh, right. But—you know she’d want you to open it right now, don’t you?”

“She knows that I prefer to keep my work and my personal life separate.” Still, he regarded the box uncertainly. He would not want to accidentally insult Entrapta. Was this a custom he was unaware of? Gift-giving was new to him.

Sea Hawk leaned very close, but thankfully did not touch him. “Let me tell you something I have learned about women—“

Hordak frowned. “My observations indicate that individual Etherians are too different from each other to confirm many broad generalizations. The exceptions being ‘requires oxygen’ or ‘must drink water regularly’.”

Sea Hawk blinked. “What?”

“I am questioning your expertise.”

Sea Hawk blinked again. He took a breath, and barreled on—“Women want to know that they are your highest priority. The very center of your universe. Your everything.”

Hordak’s ears folded back. “I killed my brother for her sake. I am certain she already knows that.”

Sea Hawk threw his hands up in the air. “Will you please just open the box?! I’m your wingman! How can I help you seduce your lady love if I don’t even know what she sent you?”

“That is simple—you do not. I am not seducing her. Therefore, I do not require your help.”

Sea Hawk wailed dramatically. “My friend, you are sabotaging your own happiness! You are allowing her to slip through your fingers if you ignore her overtures of—“

He continued to rave, and Hordak sighed, pressing his knuckle to his temple, where he could feel the beginnings of a headache forming. “If I open it, will you stop talking?”

“Oh, yes. Absolutely.”

“Fine.”

“Really?”

“Do not make me regret this.”

He studied the data chip Sea Hawk had snatched from the crate. It was a modern chip of Entrapta’s own design, made to interact with his data pad. He set his data pad on the table and attached the chip to the back. His screen flickered briefly, then a stable image resolved. “Play video,” he ordered, and the image began to move.

Entrapta waved at him, smiling. “Hi, Hordak! My research has revealed that it is customary to send a care package when someone you care about is far from home, particularly if they’re away for an extended period of time.” She looked down, blushing a little. “I’d been intending to do this anyway, but your gift reminded me that it was probably overdue.”

Sea Hawk made a strange sound, his eyes big and hands scrunched tight to his mouth. Hordak barely glanced at him, and held his hands behind his back at he watched the screen, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “There’s a jar in the crate—would you please retrieve it? It requires an explanation.”

Curious, he pulled the crate closer—swatting Sea Hawk away when he tried to search out the jar first. He pulled out the jar and returned his attention to the screen. Entrapta’s image waited a few seconds more, then she said, “I spoke to Perfuma, and she has designed a topical salve that should help ease muscle pain and tension.” Hordak stiffened briefly, glancing at Sea Hawk, but he didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. “Before applying it to a wider area, make sure to test it on a small patch of skin to make sure it doesn’t react poorly.”

Curious, he opened the jar, surprised by the scent of peppermint. He dabbed a small portion on his wrist, flexing his hand and cocking an ear when he felt a subtle tingling in that patch of skin. “I have also included some notes on my current project for your review. I would appreciate your input.” His ears perked, and she smiled coyly. “Not my secret project. You‘ll be allowed to tinker with that one after I have a working prototype.” He grunted, crossing his arms, though he couldn’t keep the fond smile from his face.

“She is taunting me,” he told Sea Hawk.

Sea Hawk smirked. “No, my friend, she is flirting with you.”

Hordak’s ears flexed, and he cleared his throat as he turned back to the screen, trying to ignore the heat spreading across his cheeks. “—send an annotated copy. Maybe when you send me your notes on my proposed procedure,” she said with a grin. Another glance at Sea Hawk reassured him that the man suspected nothing untoward, though Hordak readily recognized the suggestiveness in her gaze.

“Oh! You should know that this care package isn’t just from me.” He cocked his head. “I’ve asked the others to contribute as well, to show you how much they miss you.”

“Others?” Who could possibly miss him aside from Entrapta?

The video cut, then Kadroh appeared onscreen. “Hello, brother! I miss you and am eager for you to return. I’ve been working on my sketching—thank you for recommending I look for my data pad in the library! I found it behind one of the bookcases.” He held up the data pad, to show a sketch of some flowers. “Here’s what I’m currently working on. Oh! I think Imp was just a little jealous. I gave him a pad of paper and some markers, so he could draw too.” His ears drooped a little. “I haven’t done anything worth sending to you—“ The video feed paused briefly, and Entrapta spoke in voice-over.

“He’s being too modest. After we filmed this, we talked and I convinced him to include a printout of a piece he’s proud of.”

“—but I made sure to include Imp’s drawings. I thought you might enjoy them.” He smiled broadly, and Hordak peered inside the crate, noting a sheaf of papers, sandwiched between stiff cardboard to protect them. “We’re excited for your return and I hope you’re enjoying Salineas. I’ve never been to the ocean before; I hope you take the time to appreciate it!” Hordak blinked. He hadn’t even considered doing something like that.

The screen cut again. Crypto Castle’s Etherian servants appeared on the screen, waving timidly. Hordak’s ears folded back and he cocked his head. They definitely weren’t enthusiastic about being filmed, and he wondered if Entrapta had unintentionally threatened them again. “H-hi,” the cook said, wringing her hands. “Princess Entrapta said she was preparing a care package for you. I, um. I thought I’d send some tiny fruit tarts, but I didn’t think they’d survive the trip.” She winced. “So I-I made a premix of cocoa powder and sugar and-and a few spices. Just mix it with warm milk—um, about 60 degrees—“ She appeared to look off screen for confirmation from Entrapta. “—and you’ll have hot cocoa just like I make here.” She smiled hesitantly, her eyes just a touch too wide. “I, uh. I hope you like it.”

Again the image cut away, and Hordak was beginning to wonder how many people Entrapta had pressed into making this video. Then it focused on three former Horde soldiers. The lizardman—Rogelio—was standing behind the humans, Lonnie and Kyle. All of them seemed a touch nervous, but Kyle at least also seemed eager. The audio cut in mid-sentence. “—so much for letting us look after the little guy while you’re gone. I know Miss—“

Lonnie elbowed him. “Princess. Cripes, Kyle. Get it right.” Rogelio rumbled in agreement.

“Right! Princess! I mean, I know Princess Entrapta could totally look after him—“

Off-camera, Entrapta said, “Actually, it’s probably best that you guys take him. Imp’s pretty resourceful, but...um. I’m better with robots, you know. You don’t to remember to feed them every day.”

“Three times a day,” Lonnie said, looking a little alarmed.

“Yeah. That.”

Kyle cleared his throat. “Uh. Anyway. Just. Thanks. We really bonded while you were gone—“

Behind him, Rogelio signed, ‘Kyle has separation anxiety.’

“—and it just really means a lot—“

A few things happened at once. Lonnie jolted and Rogelio froze. The camera jostled, and Entrapta laughed, while Imp’s characteristic chatter echoed. The camera’s image was jumbled and unsteady as it toppled and, presumably, Imp ran off with it. Hordak covered his mouth, afraid to reveal his smile. Somebody called after Imp, but the camera just bounced and jostled, revealing flashes of metal and the tip of Imp’s wing, his small claws. A vent clanged open, and the screen was briefly plunged into darkness. A glowing pair of yellow eyes were the only things visible.

“[I miss him].” Entrapta’s voice echoed eerily in the vent.

Beside him, Sea Hawk cringed away from the screen. “What is that?!”

“Imp.”

Sea Hawk stared at him. “That is not an answer!”

Hordak offered a lopsided shrug. “It is difficult to define him. Imp is Imp.”

The eyes disappeared, and a moment later, they could hear the clanging of the vent. A new vent opened, and Imp glided down to the ground, setting the camera beside Emily. It was set at an odd angle, but all of Emily’s spherical body was visible. She stomped her legs and the upper part of her chassis spun—a kind of dance she often performed, though there was something mournful in her demeanor. She beeped sadly.

From behind the camera, Imp hopped onto Emily and laid down. He opened his mouth, and Kadroh’s voice said, “[—be back soon. soon. soon. soon.]

Sea Hawk blinked and leaned close. “That’s Imp?” Hordak nodded. “Oh. I can’t decide if he’s terrifying or adorable.”

“That is the typical reaction.”

The video cut, and Entrapta reappeared, giggling. “Kyle wanted to retake that last bit, but I thought you might appreciate it.” As always, she was correct. “Anyway, I hope you like your care package, and I hope to see you soon.” She waved, and the feed cut out.

He held his knuckles to his mouth, a subtle smile at the corner. When he was sure he was composed, he lowered his hand and reached for the crate, pulling the sheaf of papers from it. He unbound them, setting the stiff cardboard to the side. He leafed through the pages slowly, again holding his knuckles to his mouth. Imp’s drawings were little more than uncoordinated scribbles, yet he found himself touched to see them. He lingered over one picture in particular. Two tall stick figures, one with red eyes and one with sunny yellow eyes—himself and Kadroh?—and a short stick figure with long strands of purple hair. A green orb with four legs. And a very small, blue stick figure with sketchy wings and a tail.

Sea Hawk leaned close. “I didn’t realize you had a family.”

Instinct demanded he deny it, but instead he said, “It is...new.” He leafed through the rest of the pictures, lingering again on the last, which was clearly Kadroh’s work. Despite his brother’s obvious uncertainty, Hordak was impressed with his sketching—it was a rather good likeness of Emily, and he found himself admiring Kadroh’s sense of whimsy, present in the flowers he’d drawn to crown her.

His chest felt warm and oddly tight. He packed everything back into the crate with care, intending to look at it more closely later.

At his elbow, Sea Hawk was oddly quiet, almost pensive. Hordak was grateful for that. Later, when the tightness had eased from his chest, when he could trust himself to speak, he’d call Entrapta to thank her. For now, he set the crate aside and returned to work.

Later, in the privacy of his room, Hordak reviewed the research she’d sent him. He found himself pacing as he read, a small smile on his face. He scribbled a few notes in the margins, but he knew she didn’t really need his input—she would have eventually discovered the few bits he added on her own, but he was flattered she even asked.

At the end, he wrote, ‘I am awed by your brilliance.’

He saved the file, but hesitated to disconnect the disk. Entrapta had clearly said that he should send it with the annotated procedure she’d proposed for their Intimacy Log. Was she merely teasing—flirting?—with him? Surely it wasn’t a command. Entrapta, he reminded himself, did not issue orders. She made requests.

But if it would please her, could he consider it anything less than an order?

He stopped, clenching his hand. That...that was not true. Entrapta had reassured him every step of the way that this was as much his decision as hers. From her, he suspected that even an order should be considered a strongly-worded request.

So, really, this was his choice. Entirely.

He swallowed, hearts hammering. He recognized the anxiety that came with disobeying one of Prime’s orders—

(How many nights had he spent on Etheria, nearly doubled over with pain and panic, knowing that Prime would not approve of his actions but also knowing he had no other choice if he wanted to survive? How often had he pleaded with the memory of his maker for mercy, knowing the price of his disobedience was reconditioning or purification? How many heresies had he justified, though he knew Prime would not consider his life worth saving?)

—yet amidst the familiar anxiety, he felt something else stirring. A thread of excitement, knowing Entrapta would be pleased with him. There was spite, as well��a banked fury that came from knowing that Prime would disapprove, were he still alive to care. Hordak’s life was his own, and he was more than the sins that Prime would tally against him.

He exhaled slowly, and ignoring the tremble in the tips of his fingers, he brought up Entrapta’s proposal and set aside the data pad to prepare for bed. He paused after removing his armor, noting the strain across his shoulders. His neck ached and he reached back, squeezing the straining tendons alongside his cervical port. It did little to help. Then he remembered the salve Entrapta had sent. It had been nearly ten hours now, and there was no sign of a poor reaction at the spot he’d tested—no rash, no irritation, no itching. Perhaps he could test it further and apply some to his neck?

He dug into the crate, pulling out the jar of salve. The scent of peppermint was pleasant enough, and not too overpowering. He scooped a little on two finger and reached back, rubbing the salve into the skin at the base of his skull before dragging his fingers down the back of his neck—careful to keep it out of his port. He inhaled sharply as the skin began to tingle where he’d applied the salve, and a soft moan escaped him as the tingling sank deep into the muscle.

That worked better than anticipated. He studied the jar, wondering if Entrapta had run a chemical analysis on the salve. He’d be curious to know what was in it and if he could synthesize it himself. He wiped his fingers clean, realizing he probably should have used gloves when he felt the tingling along his cuticles and the thin skin under his claws.

He settled on the bed and arranged the pillows until he was comfortable. He leaned against the pillow at his back and surprised himself by thrumming softly. For the first time since leaving Dryl, he was very nearly content—the salve had done much to ease the pain that ran the length of his neck, and Entrapta’s care package left him feeling...well, cared for. Entrapta herself was the only thing missing. He reached for the data pad and his stylus; it was a poor substitute, but if he could not be with her, at least he could content himself with the knowledge that she desired to be with him too. Despite the anxiety coiled like a spring in the pit of his stomach, his scalp prickled with what could only be anticipation.

Swallowing, he skimmed the proposal, skipping past the parts he’d already read and the notes he’d made. Even so, the prickling along his hairline grew stronger. He swallowed and smoothed his hair back, regretting it immediately when that only caused the crest to rise. The tingling of his scalp seemed to blend into the prickling at the back of his neck, and he was glad he hadn’t applied any of the salve to his shoulders. Shaking his head to clear it, he reached the line he’d finished on last time:

*Ask subject how he feels about being bitten.*

His throat felt tight. He swallowed, free hand wrapping loosely around his neck. He tapped his stylus against his leg, wondering how to respond to that. Just thinking about it caused something within himself to clench. He swallowed again and wrote neatly, ‘Not yet. I feel being bitten would net a strong reaction, and I would like more information before experimenting with that.’

The coil of anxiety loosened, just a little, and he exhaled slowly. The next line read, *Explore pectoral muscles. Test sensitivity of nipples by—*

He blushed, looking away as embarrassment overcame him. His hairline felt sensitive, and he curled his fingers to resist the urge to smooth his hair back or to test his nipples’ sensitivity. He could barely bring himself to look at them, somewhat scandalized by her suggested means of examination. Swallowing stiffly, he wrote, ‘They are not sensitive. No testing is required.’ He hesitated. ‘I will indulge your curiosity, if you insist.’ His cheeks burned, and his ears drew back, the tips hot as his mind conjured the image of Entrapta nestled between his thighs, her hair binding his hands over his head as she bent forward to lave at—

A soft, distressed chirp escaped him, and he nearly leapt from the bed to begin pacing once more. His hair had risen to a soft peak, and the back of his neck now felt hot and sensitive. The coil of anxiety had somehow blended with his anticipation, making him feel like he was balanced rather precariously between the two. Not unpleasantly, he had to admit, even if he was no longer entirely comfortable. He took a few breaths, trying to compose himself. There were only a few lines left. Surely he could get through this without completely embarrassing himself. He bent over the data pad, crossing his legs as he continued to read—and ignoring the subtle squirming in his lower abdomen.

*Be sure to kiss the subject liberally—on the mouth and while exploring his body. Very light application of the fingernails may also be desired.*

He cocked his head, curious about that last statement. Careful of his claws, he ran the tips lightly over his inner arm. The sensation was pleasant enough, and he noted in the margins that he would be agreeable to that, thankful that it seemed like such a tame suggestion after everything else.

*If subject is comfortable with genital examination, this procedure may be expanded on.*

He froze, fingers curling. His gaze fell to his lap. The prickling along his scalp and the back of his neck suddenly didn’t feel quite so pleasant anymore. Swallowing hard, he sat up, resettling himself again. The spring in his lower abdomen had coiled tight, all hints of anticipation replaced by dread. He tapped the stylus against his thigh, trying to decide what to say.

Finally, he brought his stylus to the data pad and began to write.

A/N: As always, thank you for your comments! I love your feedback and I treasure each of your comments. I often go back and reread them if I need a little encouragement, so even if I don’t reply, know that I love hearing from you.

#intimacy log #entrapdak #entrapta #hordak #my work #my writing #work inappropriate content #cultic abuse #past abuse #anxiety #arousal #sea hawk

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riceccakes · 3 years

Note

Late to the game, but a Catradora prompt: Catra gets dragged to go rock climbing by Entrapta and Scorpia and is super impressed by the clearly regular climber Adora.

this was a lot of fun! thanks for the prompt, hope i delivered :))) ao3

It was a Sunday, a lazy Sunday, Catra pointed out. All she wanted to do was sleep in until noon, eat, and then go back to sleep again. Maybe kiss Adora a few times, maybe mess with Glimmer a little bit, perhaps take a walk around the castle with Melog. However, she did not want to go out, much less exert any large amount of energy. She’d spent so much of the war using up all her energy, even using it when she had none at all. Now with the fight over, she was determined to have as many lazy days as possible.

So, when Scorpia had bursted into her and Adora’s room in the Bright Moon castle, Catra was not amused. She covered her ears and shielded her eyes, hissing at Scorpia for opening the blinds. Soon after, the sound of beeping technology entered her room.

“By my calculations, the most appropriate time to leave for optimal sunlight without too much heat is in twenty minutes,” Entrapta spoke. “I thought you said you’d be able to wake up Catra.”

Catra huffed, “Scorpia has been more than successful in waking me up, Entrapta.” From her curled up spot in the bed, she glared at Scorpia, “It’s just a matter of why.”

“Come on, Wildcat,” she replied, attempting to pull her out of bed. The feline quickly crawled away from her, trying to get comfortable again at the other end of the bed. “Sunlight is good for you, fresh air is good for you! Plus, a little exercise never hurts.”

Catra replied with a muffled no. She curled up even more, trying to find Adora’s legs to nuzzle against. When she couldn’t, her eyes opened to see where in the bed she was. Instead, she heard Adora’s voice walking in.

“Adora, you can get her out of bed, can’t you?” Scorpia asked.

Catra groaned, tucking her head between her arms. She felt Adora’s hand on her fur, a spark fluttering through her body. She shut her eyes further, she would not be swayed.

Adora’s hand rubbed her softly, she kindly played with her hair, “Hey there sleepy head.” She giggled, Catra always loved the sound of it. “Come on, we’re going rock climbing.”

“We?” Catra crawled up to the pillows, throwing the blanket over herself. “The only we should be us in this bed with the drapes closed.”

Catra felt the bed shift, a quick inhale brought the familiar and comforting scent of Adora. “Please?” The blanket lifted off of her, she found puppy dog eyes and a pouty lip. “It’s gonna be fun.”

“Sixteen minutes now, if we want to exert the most amount of energy with the least amount of residual heat from the sun,” Entrapta said.

Adora smiled, running a hand through Catra’s hair once more. She closed her eyes again, knowing the longer she’d look into Adora’s sky blues, the more inclined she’d be to accept. Adora’s fingers lingered behind her ear, in the exact spot that was her weakness, and she purred.

In her ear, Adora whispered, “Just a few rock walls and then we’ll come back here, just us.”

Catra’s ears perked up, her tail reacting with curiosity. After a few more lazy strokes of fingertips behind her ear, Catra sat up.

“Fine,” she growled. “But I will not have fun.”

Adora kissed her cheek, helping her out of bed. It took no time for her to change and then the group was off. Catra didn’t even know how rock climbing became a subject of interest for her friends, and in the early morning sunlight, she didn’t really care. Entrapta spoke into her recorder, mentioning something about analyzing how Etheria’s magic has since affected the world around them. She could hear Scorpia and Adora chatting, about what she wasn’t sure; Catra was busying herself with looking at the new grown flowers, at the moss green grass covering the stones and logs. She lamely followed the group, huffing every now and then, dreaming about the bed she reluctantly left.

After some uphill walking, they came across their first wall. Entrapta was the first to go up, her hair doing most of the work for her. Once she was at the top, her hair reached down and grabbed Scorpia’s arms, hoisting her up.

“What?” Catra exclaimed. “What kind of exercise is that, Scorpia?”

Adora placed a hand on her shoulder, “She can’t climb with those pincers, Catra.” She wrapped her arm around her, whispering in Catra’s ear, “Bet I can beat you to the top.”

Catra furrowed her eyebrows, examining the wall in front of her before smirking. She pounced onto a nearby collection of tall rocks, then onto a tree branch.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Adora yelled with a laugh behind her voice.

Catra turned to see her girlfriend easily scaling the wall, dare she say almost too easily. She quickly picked up her pace, trying to find the next surface for her to land on. Adora was nearly there, a wide smile on her face. Catra was stuck at a small ledge not too far away from her, out of options for places to help her up. Pouncing from place to place, Catra could do with ease. Climbing? Not her strong suit.

Determined to win, however, Catra tugged at a few different protruding rocks before choosing one and bringing herself upwards. Looking to her left, Adora was already hoisting herself over the edge. Catra rolled her eyes, continuing to carefully choose her next handle to hold onto. Scorpia was cheering for her, encouraging and rooting for her abilities; Catra rolled her eyes to hide her growing grin. Adora peered over the edge, boasting a smile. Catra shook her head, trying faster now to get to the top.

She was almost there, Adora’s stupid, pretty face becoming clearer and clearer. Catra took the nearest ledge to her and put her weight on it, bringing herself upwards when she felt the rock come out from under her.

A breath caught in her throat. She knew it was a long way down, and while she’d surely land on her feet, pain would not be avoided.

It was too sudden for her to try and grab anything else but just as soon as she felt the rock give out under her, she felt a hand take her’s, Adora’s hand.

“Don’t worry,” she said as she pulled Catra up, “I’ve got you.”

On flat land, Catra let out some heavy huffs. She turned to Adora, “Where did you learn to climb like that?”

She shrugged, “Light Hope made a lot of simulations while I was training to be She-Ra. I’ve climbed enough walls in there to be pretty decent.”

Catra growled, “So, you set me up! That’s not fair.”

Adora smirked, giving her girlfriend a quick kiss, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She began laughing, sticking her tongue out and lamely running away. Catra chased after her with glee, jumping on her and rolling around on the ground. Scorpia and Entrapta were a bit ahead of them, but not too far that they could potentially become lost. Catra straddled Adora, applauding herself for pinning her girlfriend. Adora took her face in her hands and kissed her slowly only to flip her over. The two huffed, staring into each other’s eyes before getting up with smiles.

They caught up with their friends; Scorpia was collecting flowers that reminded her of Perfuma, meanwhile Entrapta was collecting samples for her research back at the castle. They scaled a few more walls, Catra was always the last to go up. (Mostly to admire Adora’s back muscles at work, but also because she just wanted to go back to bed and didn’t feel like climbing anything.) (Well, except maybe one thing.)

Once Entrapta couldn’t hold any more data, the group began their descent. Going down was far scarier to Catra, her foot placements always seemed to find the unstable rocks first. However, Scorpia was once again cheering for her friend and Catra enjoyed the encouragement. (She wouldn’t say it out loud, but it definitely helped her feel better about her mediocre climbing.)

Finally back at the castle, Catra took Adora’s hand and gave a curt goodbye to their friends. She walked the halls to their bedroom, barely acknowledging any of their other friends they passed. She threw open the door, taking Adora in with her, and kissing the girl fiercely.

Adora chuckled into her lips, “I’m guessing someone liked rock climbing?”

She rolled her eyes and muttered, “It was kinda, pretty cool to watch you go up.”

“Hm, huh, what was that?”

Catra pushed her shoulder, “Ugh, shut up, Adora.”

“Make me.”

So Catra did.

#ricewrites #catradora #catra #adora #scorpia #entrapta #spop #writing prompt #one shot #short fic #thanks for the ask :))#buffythejammerslayer

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fantasyraindrps · 4 years

Text

Anti Catra/Catradora

This series has always felt like the Catra Show, and so much so that even Hordak never felt like the main villain. And nothing drove that point home more than season five proving once and for all that this series moral line(or lack there of) is REALLY about a Villain Protagonist when the character that increasingly became a MONSTER for FOUR SEASONS still got everything she wanted in the end.

Catra is the poster child for the moral bankruptcy of this series.

I can't buy her ''redemption,'' or her relationship with Adora, because she WENT TO FAR.

Therefore nor can I buy the HYPOCRITICAL mental gymnastics that arise when she is a topic of discussion in the fandom.

For four seasons I watched this character WILLINGLY and GLEEFULLY jump rope with the moral event horizon. She eventually finally broke it to the pieces when she deliberately GENOCIDES everyone on the PLANET, because of her sick,evil obsession with being better than Adora.

Loved all this time my behind.

Catra was a vile person from her introduction, and just got increasingly more poisonous as the show went on.

Season Five wants us to treat Catra like a bad friend that said a few mean words here and there, and therefore all she has to do is sincerely apologize then friendship can begin again.

Here's the thing Catra wasn't just a bad friend, but also an ABUSER and a FASCIST.

She had multiple opportunities to leave the horde,and had no reason to stay in the first place, gleefully attacks the resistance, is the reason Angela died, tried straight up multiple times to end Adora’s and her friends lives, and was just an abomination to even the ones on her side....

On the flip side we have Adora who doesn’t give a damn about Catra for four seasons. She’s too busy enjoying life with her REAL friends. Try and recall, was there ever a moment where Adora was...concerned for Catra’s safety? Pining for her in any way romantically? Ever? Even once during the first four? Because I don’t. Honestly Catra wasn’t important to Adora until Catra showed up on screen. And then they both wanted to kill each other. Any moments of Adora thinking about Catra it was in the context of Catra being her ENEMY.

But I'm supposed to believe in their romance based on what?

Catra's toxicity? Adora's nonexistent romantic feelings for pretty much the entire series?

In season 5 all Catra had to do was one act of atonement and out of nowhere, like Adora has been possessed by the ghost of Queer Rep, she suddenly can’t get Catra out of her head. Also note Catra didn't save Glimmer because she realized her past actions were evil; no it was all for Adora's sake i.e. the person she is toxically obsessed with.

Back to Catra, her redemption is handled with the most condescending of kid gloves. It’s like she was replaced by a clone for season five. She’s just accepted. It's like seasons 1-4 didn't happen. The forgiveness was excessive and forced so we could be okay with this ABUSER / WAR CRIMINAL being chummy and romantic with her victims.

For example Glimmer cries over her, hugs her, kisses her cheek etc... Yet Catra is responsible for her MOTHER’S DEATH, the WORLD ENDING once before, trying to KILL her, war crimes against Bright Moon/HER KINGDOM...

Then Entrapta also forgives Catra like it’s nothing even though she sent HER TO DIE, and apparently she was in this hell space for a YEAR.

Same with Scorpia who forgives Catra's toxicity in five seconds.

But everything is suppose to be wonderful because an ABUSER ends the series ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED WITH HER VICTIM?

When Adora said you made your choice now live with it THAT should have been the end of any reconciliation either platonic of romantic.

Even her flashbacks are her being abusive. You see her in one of them( in her so called redemption season at that) SCRATCHING Adora's FACE to the point it left BLOOD,and JUMPING ON HER STOMACH just because Adora DARED to be friends with other people.

This was pretty much every childhood flashback they showed.

She would emotionally and physically abuse Adora, and then Adora would take her back.

This would continue even as near adults. It was a PATTERN(red flag) that Adora unfortunately didn't escape.

But.....I always loved you,says Catra.

For ADORA'S own mental health/closure she could forgive,but only if she also makes it clear that she doesn't want her abuser/war criminal ex friend back in her life.

I could have tolerated that ending instead of Adora becoming a COUPLE with her ABUSER.

Basically this villain sue ends the show getting everything she wants even after evil manipulation of several characters, genocide, war crimes against her own people, repeated attempts at murder,physical and mental abuse(especially toward Adora), and just being a complete psychopath to anyone within spitting distance of her toxicity.

She gets to be pretty much a abusive scum bucket for four seasons, on top of ACTUALLY DOING THE SAME THING PRIME WANTED TO DO, yet whiplash forgiveness and Lesbians 4 Evah is her ending.

"So we're all just okay with this?", says Mermista incredulously of the war criminal Hordak.

Good question,but then I remember you all seem to be okay with war criminal Catra who is pretty much Hordak's parallel soo ....

Her mirror Hordak, according to the showrunner, is sentenced to beast island for his war crimes. However, my question then becomes where is Catra's sentence? Oh, that's right if you're the creator’s pet you get to be a war criminal in peace.

It's also convenient that Mermista was chipped,and therefore didn't get to say anything to the girl who helped bring down her kingdom with a smile on her face.

Funny how that worked out.

It's even more convenient that her victims gave their lighting fast forgiveness.

Can't have icky things like abuse and war crimes get in the way of that ending smooch you know.

I suppose we also just need to look at Angella as collateral damage while we smile as her daughter hugs and kisses her killer I guess.

I also find it odd(since were loving abusers and war criminals) that Shadow Weaver point blank doesn't get forgiveness from Adora, and she even ends the series dead. However, she defected to the hero’s side in season two(regardless of any impure motivation), and stayed there and helped the protagonists until her season five death. But Catra, who not only stayed with the conquering organization the Horde for almost the entire series as well as eventually becoming their LEADER, was not only forgiven but also rewarded a romance with her victim. Curious.

I'm tired of this abominable trope invading every piece of media. An antagonist crosses the moral event horizon, and some even break it to pieces, but somehow the story gets selective amnesia and thus they are free to join the protagonists with their numerous sick crimes ignored or a sob story is bsed into a justification onto why we should ignore physical and emotional abuse and/or the numerous bodies piled up.

When you don't have a moral LINE in your narrative then that means you have already made a mockery out of morality and numerous victims.

The only way I can stomach her season five ‘’redemption’’, and lighting quick forgiveness, is if I forget the monster of four seasons didn't exist.

Problem is I can't do that.

Why should I get any catharsis that the protagonists prevailed over Horde Prime when you have two characters in particular(Hordak,Catra) that are pretty much him with a sob story attached. If THEY get to kumbaya with the hero's then Prime should to because that's honestly where the morals are at in this story.

I had to stop watching two shows(Vampire Diaries and Once Upon a Time) because I got tired of this sick trope. There were SEASONS worth of whitewashing and selective amnesia for two sick and evil characters(Damien Savatore and Regina), to the point their VICTIMS became their BIGGEST CHEERLEADERS and LOVE INTERESTS.

There is no justice when this vile trope is in play.

The moral event horizon exists for a reason. It means once a character has jumped over it then there should be no moral way they can come back from it. Humanizing them is a good narrative choice,but that humanization doesn't and SHOULDN'T erase their heinous crimes.

Thus the only true ending that moral event horizon characters should get are redemption equals death or thanks for growing a conscious and helping us out, but you're STILL going to prison for life afterwards kay. They don't get to kumbaya with their victims while the other one's, THE DEAD BODIES, stay cold.

But you know if I HAD to I COULD have TOLERATED Catra and Hordak going on an atonement journey so they could help the people still living that they made homeless/ lives they ruined. Also they can do this while they both get the therapy they badly need.

I needed CONSEQUENCES that STUCK.

Instead Catra (ADORA'S ABUSER) gets to make out with Adora(HER VICTIM), and also become her girlfriend. She also becomes the best friend of her other victims.

So it seems this show's message is no matter how much emotional and physical pain a person does to you it's okay to not only let them back in your life(damn your mental health I guess),but it’s also fine to enter a romantic relationship with them as well.

Yes, that's what children need to see.

It's also hilarious that some of her fans say she's Zuko.

No.

She's what would happen if Azula and Kylo Ren were made into one character.

I did my research on the show runner, and the creators pet/villain sue bias became clearer.

Catra is HER, and Adora is her wife.

That explains EVERYTHING, and not in a good way.

What the show's title should actually be called:

She-Ra:The Story of a Villain Sue Antagonist,War Criminal Abuser,That Gets a Happily Ever After With Her Victim; Whom She Emotionally and Physically Abused for Four Seasons.

Another alternate:

She-Ra: The Story of Lesbian Reylo.

#catradora #anti catradora #catra #anti catra #spop season five #spop #shera confessions #spop critical #anti c//a #western magical girl confessions #adora deserved better than to end up in a romantic relationship with her abuser

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inscribed-in-asteroids · 4 years

Text

AN: Here’s chapter two!

Title: The Ripple Effect

Characters: Hordak, Entrapta, Odessa, features original characters

Pairing: Entrapdak, features other canon couples (and some fanon)

Rating: M

Read on AO3. It’s always posted there first.

Evaluation

“You want us to help you… find your dad’s… home planet?” Hydrangea questions.

“Not necessarily that,” Odessa replies. “I’ve been mulling over this the last couple of years. Wandering through space, it’s apparent that my father’s species has predominantly settled into Etherian life. But when I ask my father where we are from, he has no answer.”

“Not in the withholding information way,” Tristan clarifies.

“Exactly. In the sense he has no answer to give. Period. I’ve discussed it with my mother, and she believes it could be an exciting chance to find out where he’s from!” Odessa claps her hands together. “We know about the biology, physiology, mental health, behavior of one person. My father has been studied thoroughly for years, but his makeup can only tell us so much.”

They nod in understanding. It does make sense. He has been genetically manufactured over and over, thousands of versions of him co-existing among species that still have yet to see anything like him before. Hordak has lived among Etherians, has explored world upon world, but they know he is an anomaly. They all do.

Odessa looks down at her hands, an anomaly herself. Her parents have always been supportive of her intellectual pursuits, and this could very well be one of the greatest. She has filled a medical textbook composed of both Entrapta’s research, Hordak’s explanations, and her own observations, theories and notes about how his species operates. But what good is it if it simply applies to a single individual; that’s not applicable to how science or medical practice works.

Hydrangea pours them tea. She knows how determined Odessa can be once she sets her mind to something. There’s no stopping her once her brain gains traction on an idea. Tristan’s set face comprehends this as well.

Tristan speaks first, “When would you like us to begin?”

Odessa smirks, “Soon as you’re done with your drink.”

“Hm, of course you’d say that.”

“Damn right,” Odessa answers.

Hydrangea places her hands on her hips, “Alright, Des. We’ll get going soon as we’re done!”

“Or you could chug your chamomile in one go.”

“No.”

Dryl is etched further into rocky cliffs, its labyrinth excavated deep inside the mountain. Its residents welcome their princess, happy to see her return. Entrapta’s kingdom had been left to its own devices for years, even prior to Entrapta’s departure; yet they view Odessa as the rightful heir, and treat her as such. She supposes it's something to be grateful for, as it does leave them with a place to rest and organize without much interference.

Though she could do without the large paintings of herself lining the walls.

“I never get over how cute you were as a baby,” Hydrangea says, giggling. “Look how chubby you were!”

“You were so adorable,” Tristan gushes. “So innocent.”

“The sweetest little baby,” she continues. “I still want to pinch your itty bitty face!”

“Shut up,” Odessa pouts, blushing. Curse these portraits… and curse their laughter...

“Odessa! Hello, hello!”

Relieved, she turns, smiling at the friendly face, “Hi, Uncle Wrong-Man.”

Crushing her to his chest, he presses their cheeks together, “It’s been so long since I’ve seen my most favorite niece in the world!”

“You’re going to make all the other nieces jealous,” she says. Then smiles, “But it’s true.”

“I can’t help it, you were the first niece I had!”

Back on her feet, Odessa glances at the vicinity. Normally, there’s more of her uncles wandering through the halls. “Where is everyone?”

“Oh, they’re working outside or in the kitchens. We heard you were back and we felt a welcoming party would be fun!”

“You don’t have to throw one every time we come back.”

His eyes turn watery, a sad, morose frown on his features, “Oh… I see… You don’t… like my parties anymore…”

“No, no, that’s not it!” Odessa says, trying to cheer him back up. “I just meant you don’t need to go through all the trouble each visit.”

He looks up at her, ears drooping lower, “Do you like them?”

“Yes, Uncle Wrong-Man, I love your parties,” she insists. “You’re the best at it!”

In seconds, his bubbly personality returns, “Excellent! I look forward to giving you another party suited to your tastes!”

Tristan leans toward Odessa, hand held up to his mouth, “Wow, for a minute I thought I heard violins.”

“He has that dramatic flair to him,” she agrees.

“How have your parents been? I haven’t seen them yet!” W.H. asks.

“Mom and Dad are fine,” Odessa tells him, following him through the halls. The maze has been modified to be easier to map out. The first time she had come here, they had gotten lost since Entrapta couldn’t quite recall where all the secret entrances were. Odessa took it upon herself to make her own layout, and added to it whenever a change had been made. “They went to Beast Island to see how it is there.”

His ears fall for a moment, “Aw, I hope they’ll visit soon!”

“I’m sure they will,” she assures him. “They had some business to conduct over there.”

“In the meantime, what brings you to Dryl?”

“I wanted to talk to you and some of the others regarding your past,” she explains.

W.H. enters the closest kitchen, walking toward the oven. Tucking on mitts, a perplexed expression crosses his features, “Our past? My dearest niece… have you been afflicted by amnesia?”

“No, my memories serve me right,” Odessa says, patient. “I am asking for information regarding where we had come from, as a whole species. What world we originated from, what our culture was like. I had spoken with father about the matter, but he said he didn’t know due to being younger than the rest of you.”

W.H. crosses over to the countertop, removing the cookies onto a cooling rack. He is silent for a few moments, and it is clear he is choosing his words carefully, trying to understand what she’s asking. He turns, a serious mien about him, unusual on his face. “I… I’m not sure, either.”

Odessa walks over to him, “Is it because you were separated from the hivemind?”

“I don’t believe so,” he replies. Folding his arms over his chest, the fact they’re all one person reveals itself in his posture and tone. “We had been created to serve Horde Prime. Nothing more or less. And I do think that I myself had been cloned after your father. He had been Horde Prime’s general as well, and if he didn’t know, one of our elder brothers might have the knowledge you seek.”

Odessa glances at Hydrangea and Tristan, then back to her uncle. “Do you know who would?”

W.H. ponders for a minute. “Hm, no one here, I am certain. The residents of Dryl are like myself—of the younger group, since we have more people skills to associate with the Etherians.”

Hydrangea says, “I always wondered how that worked. Where you were designated and why.”

W.H. nods, “Oh, yes, we put thought into what our new purposes would be. After I helped my brother and sister with Beast Island, I came here to demonstrate how to function with Etherians!”

Tristan walks over to the counter, “Where do you recommend we go, then? Also, can I have one?”

W.H. beams, nodding enthusiastically, “Please do! I am going to make much more. But in regards to your first question, I would suggest visiting family in Mystacore or Beast Island.”

Odessa takes a cookie off the rack as well, munching. Mystacore is closer, so it would be prudent to try there before traveling to Beast Island. There are portals stationed throughout Etheria, but it’ll be worth stopping by Mystacore. She hasn’t seen anyone there at all yet. Although, it’s not as if there are many who live in the clouds, visiting her family there is always exciting.

“Thank you, Uncle Wrong-Man,” Odessa says, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “We’ll head there now!”

“Take some food with you to go,” he insists. In a flash, he’s bagging the cookies into a cellophane sack, tying it with a pink ribbon that shapes into a butterfly. “Healthy meals are important, but so are treats! Otherwise, you get moody.”

Hydrangea and Tristan are handed their own bags, much to their surprised delight. Before Odessa can accompany them out the door, W.H. stops her, giving her another, “Would you mind taking this with you for your cousin?”

Odessa smiles, “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

Hordak and his brothers were categorized not by their clothes, or hair dye choices, but by their eyes. Odessa and her mother had noted the various shades of eye color, their teeth matching them the most; however, inside of their mouths, it adjusts to mimic the change as well, affecting the tongue and beneath it, gums, hard and soft palates, uvula, even extending down to the oropharynx. All her uncles are in good health, and with none of them dead, she can only assume that the change continues down the esophagus. She got it in writing several years ago that, should any be willing to be dissected for scientific purposes, she has a few choices for her study.

Their eye colors are fascinating: while they all reflect light to glow, which is meant to intimidate opponents, she has observed the change serves as behavioral distinction. The lighter the color, the more mellow and passive the personality; the darker or more intense, the more independent and aggressive. A chameleon-like feature, reflecting mood. And, in turn, signifying mental and physical health, as peppier individuals tend to be less plagued by feelings of inadequacy, anger, and low self-esteem. W.H. had his eye color eventually become the joyful chartreuse yellow she’s known since birth, and her father’s returned to their fiery red sometime after the war. This is the one true variation that doesn’t need attire or fanciful hair styles and dyes to show that no matter how alike they are by DNA, they are their own separate people.

So when she teleports to Mystacore, and she finds dark blue eyes staring at her from above, she remembers, quite immediately, that sometimes, darker eye colors don’t indicate low self-esteem but rather, an egregious amount of confidence.

Her uncle jumps down from his perch, landing daintily on his feet. He narrows his eyes, leering, “Odessa… it has been ages since you’ve arrived on Mystacore.”

“Hi, Talon,” Odessa says.

He looks at her friends, “You two are faring well, I hope.”

Hydrangea smiles, “Yes, thank you for asking!”

Tristan nods, “You look good, too, Talon.”

“Indeed,” Talon answers. “It would be a shame if I lost my abilities.”

With that, he throws knives out from his sleeve. Tristan dodges the attack by barreling to the side, somersaulting along the ground. Hydrangea calls up plants from underground, knives embedding into the sides. Odessa leaps into the air, reaching behind her to draw out a handheld bar. With a click, it extends to a staff, and another morphs it quickly into a pilum.

Reeling back her arm, she launches it with full ferocity at Talon. He avoids it, jumping to the left and pulling out more knives, but he aims them at Tristan, who runs toward the nearest fountain to pull water out from its containment. Tristan moves his arms upward, pushing out enough water to create a vertical depth, the knives slowing down as they pierce its surface and float inside.

Odessa tugs her spear out from the dirt, cornering her uncle at the right. Hydrangea pulls plants forward, fingers splayed in the air. From her fingertips, electricity strings across her exoskeleton. Tristan rushes to their side, water sloshing around them, encasing Talon in its center, creating a barrier.

Talon sneers, then bursts out laughing. His stance loosens, standing upright, “Your senses haven’t weakened. Good. I’d be vexed if you squandered my generosity to teach you combat.”

Odessa smirks, minimizing her staff and settling it behind her back, “We wouldn’t do that.”

Hydrangea grins, “Tristan and I do practice on our own.”

Tristan shifts the water back toward its source, then rubs the back of his neck, “Which is great, since there was no holding back from that attack.”

“Enemies don’t show mercy,” Talon says. Adjusting his collar, he nods his head, “But tell me, what brings my niece and her companions to Mystacore?”

Odessa speaks, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Me?” he replies, curious.

“Yes. It’s about your origins. Uncle Wrong-Man said it might be beneficial to come to Mystacore and question my relatives here.”

Talon raises a brow. He looks up at his home, then addresses the trio, “Are you intending to stay for longer than an hour?”

“Most likely.”

“I will invite you to my home, then. Come. Dinner will be prepared soon, and we may discuss the topic during.”

Accepting this, they head in the direction of his home. An impressive, ornate building that’s three stories high; they tread up wide steps, where one can overlook the weigela bushes lined around the vicinity’s front entrance, a fountain spouting water in the garden’s center, surrounded by lilacs and roses. Cool air wafts over their bodies, welcome from the heat outside. Odessa remarks that the decor has only slightly changed, the furniture taking on silver, blue, and white qualities, polished until they gleam.

Going to the stairs, Talon nods at them, “Make yourselves at home. As usual, do not break anything. I will see you at dinner promptly.”

Once he’s gone, Hydrangea chuckles, “He’s still intense.”

“He’s gonna kill us one day,” Tristan sighs.

Odessa pats his shoulder, “Only if we let him.”

He lips thin out, “Not reassuring, Des.”

Climbing the steps, they decide to wait until they are called, and opt to entertain themselves by bothering someone else.

Magic radiates within the room, energy felt even behind the door. Odessa carefully pushes it open, seeing a slim figure move around. Putting a finger to her lips, she leads her friends into her cousin’s quarters. His face is stern, staring at the spell hovering over the ground at shoulder height.

Hydrangea sits quietly on a cushion on the floor, and Tristan does the same. Odessa leans against the wall, and they all watch. Eon is her cousin, and their similarities begin and end with their fathers having chosen Etherian women as their partners. He differs from her, and any other potential cousin, by having the capability to do magic. Real, Etherian magic.

Eon takes measured breathing, focusing on the spell. It elongates toward the ceiling and floor, then narrows to a thin line. Reaching for it, he plucks it with his forefinger. It snaps, and a discordant sound follows, uncomfortable and shrill. Hydrangea and Tristan cover their ears, as Odessa winces.

Eon looks at them, brow raised. He grins, “Did you all enjoy the show?”

“We did, until that,” Hydrangea complains, glaring at him. She frowns, lightly slapping her ears, “Aw no, there’s some ringing!”

“It’ll pass in a few moments,” Eon explains. “Besides, you three coming into my room unannounced and unwelcome deserves a bit of retribution.”

“By popping our eardrums?” Tristan asks, deadpan.

“Exactly,” Eon says, one hand on his hip. He turns to Odessa, and smiles. “You’re here sooner than expected.”

“I believe we arrived on time,” she answers, grinning back. She hasn’t seen him for a while, but he has gotten taller since then. He takes after their species' propensity for large heights, but she knows he’s grown a few inches and might continue to grow for the next couple of years as well.

Eon begins putting away his spellbook and notes, arranging them neatly, “What are the three of you doing here? With you on Etheria, you normally visit me later on your returns.”

“I came to ask your father some questions, but then he invited us to dinner.”

“He can be standoffish, but oddly enough, never when it comes to hosting meals.”

Hydrangea sits up, “We got into a sparring session with him right away too.”

Eon joins them on the floor, one knee bent to prop up an arm, “I had mine early this morning. You know him, he’s never done with training.”

Crossing outstretched legs, Tristan reclines against the wall, “Your parents don’t let up, huh?”

“No, but I head to my place at Bright Moon later in the month. I check in biweekly to continue my sparring and magic training, then head back and repeat.”

“That’s a lot of back and forth,” Hydrangea adds, holding a pillow to her chest.

Shrugging, Eon says, “I don’t mind. Keeps me busy.”

Odessa chuckles lightly, taking a seat beside Tristan, “For being super busy, Uncle Wrong-Man said to give you this.” Pulling out the bag, she tosses it to him.

Eon catches it deftly, a quiet ‘yes’ of triumph leaving his lips. His diet is strict when he’s with his parents, for optimal nutrition and betterment. But he has a sweet tooth that rivals Odessa and Entrapta, thus any opportunity to consume sugar is taken. Using a levitation spell, he has it placed atop his desk, and an invisibility spell follows after, keeping it from view.

“Won’t your parents find it? It’s not like you can’t smell cookies,” Odessa states.

“I’ll say it was one of you.”

Hydrangea laughs, “I don’t think they’ll be entirely fooled by that.”

“If not, that’s fine by me too,” Eon says. “I let them think they’re savvier than myself.”

Tristan smirks, “How often has that worked?”

“More than for you,” Eon says, smirking back.

Odessa and Hydrangea whoop at Tristan, who laughs in good humor.

Stretching his arms up and to the side, Eon turns to his cousin, “How did the last journey go?”

“It went as planned. We went to Pilan, and my parents found what they needed for research.”

“And you two?” he asks, addressing the others.

Hydrangea lays on her stomach, drawing circles on the pillow, “Hm… my moms have started taking me to council meetings, which is interesting. We had a gathering with some of the leaders in Plumeria that are helping to manage its growing space. And New Chelicerata has been thriving for years now, since we removed all the machinery in the Fright Zone and expanded it into the Flower Field.”

“Not all the toxins have been removed, I’m assuming.”

“Some of the groundwater had been too polluted, and it leaked into larger bodies of water, but, as a whole, we started seeing real progress six years ago.”

“I’ve been helping the residents there by removing water too far gone,” Tristan adds. “We’ve been separating them into larger containers as instructed, and we’re hoping that newer technology from Entrapta and Hordak will yield positive results in another decade or so.”

“Even if it’s slow, progression is always good.”

Odessa glances to her left, letting her mind drift. Time doesn’t pass by the same when traveling through space. She watches her mother age, while her father stays the same, and that’s the extent of how often she pays attention to the changes happening around her. It’s not from ignorance, but from not giving too much thought to it, even with the years she has spent returning to Etheria to evaluate and aid her people here.

Settling against Tristan, Odessa yawns. He keeps his body still as she falls asleep, finding their chatter relaxing. Dinner will arrive sooner if she’s napping. Even closing her eyes is enough for her body to rest, breathing quietly as she listens to them discuss any topic they happen upon.

Her friends are interrupted mid-conversation, a knock at the door grabbing their attention. Odessa opens an eye. The housekeeper bows her head, addressing Eon, “Your parents are waiting for you in the dining room. Please, follow me.��

Odessa knows her uncle, Talon, is a force to be reckoned with in combat, but her aunt, Nyxia, is a woman with severe features and a severer personality. If there was ever given a choice between fighting him or her, they may have to weigh their options a little more carefully.

She is seated next to Eon, with Hydrangea and Tristan placed across from them. Odessa leans toward her cousin, “Did Nyxia poison the food this time?”

Eon shakes his head, “Maybe Tristan’s.”

Tristan bawks, “Hey!”

Waving his hand, Eon smiles, “I’m teasing. It’s more than likely Hydrangea.”

“What?!” she demands, worried.

“You two are making this easy,” Eon grins, shaking his head. “Really, after all this time, you continue to doubt my parents’ hospitality.”

“I haven’t seen your mom in a while, okay? I wouldn’t know if I offended her last time,” Hydrangea breathes out, leaning back in her chair.

Ear twitching, Odessa catches the sound of footfalls, her aunt coming into view from the corridor, chin-length, violet hair framing lithe, dark features, gown flowing behind her. Definitely not a person to be out of line around.

But that only applies to non-relatives.

Nyxia smiles warmly at her niece, “Odessa! My charming girl, how have you been?”

“Wonderful, Aunt Nyxia, thank you,” Odessa replies, nodding her head in respect.

“Excellent. I heard all of you did well in your impromptu session with my husband earlier,” she says, making her way to the other end of the table. Standing beside her chair, she looks at her son’s other friends, “Talon remarked that you’ve improved considerably.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Hydrangea and Tristan reply at once.

Talon comes from the opposite corridor, walking toward Nyxia. Pulling out the chair for her and sliding it beneath, he moves to the other end and takes his place at the head. The staff bring out their meal: roasted pheasants and potatoes, slathered in its drippings, with baked seasoned vegetables on the side. Wine is served to all of them, as Nyxia and Talon are lax in this department of child-rearing, though the option to have different beverages is always available. Odessa requests her usual fizzy drink, as Hydrangea asks for lemon water. Tristan and Eon have no qualms with the choice displayed in front of them.

“Smells delicious, Miss Nyxia,” Hydrangea compliments.

“Thank you, my dear,” she answers, laying a cloth on her lap. “When I heard you three were in Mystacore, I chose to make this instead.”

Odessa and Eon twiddle each other’s fingers under the table, a silent ‘fuck yeah’ to the change in menu. Nyxia is a phenomenal chef, but she abhors cooking. The usual staff do lovely work, except they are meant to keep things simple, clean, and balanced. Nyxia, despite agreeing with her husband on meal preparation, manages to create rich, satisfying food each time. Normally, when Odessa and her family are visiting.

Relishing this opportunity, Eon cuts into his pheasant, stabbing a portion of potato with it, melting on his tongue. Trying not to pretend-weep. Or actually weep.

“What was your question, Odessa?” Talon asks, swirling the wine in its glass. “It’s not like you to come without your parents.”

Dabbing her mouth, Odessa looks at him, “I wanted to ask you questions about your time serving as a soldier for Prime.”

He doesn’t break the smooth motion of his wrist, not minding that part of his life, “Yes?”

“I was told that older clones might have information regarding our origins. A life before Prime sought out to conquer the universe. My father and W.H. are too young to remember, or were never privy to it. You’re one of the eldest, so I figured to come here before heading to Beast Island.”

Talon sets down his glass, lifting his fork and knife. He takes a bite of his food, chewing quietly. Swallowing, he says, “I will be blunt: it is not possible to know such a thing. Our purpose, our life, was to do Prime’s bidding.”

“There isn’t anything you can think of?”

Talon mulls the question, glancing up at his wife, then back to the plate. He narrows his eyes, and they flicker to an even darker shade of blue for a fraction of a moment. He gives a minute shake of his head, imperceptible to all but his wife.

Odessa waits for him to speak, slipping out her recorder with a strand of hair.

“I… cannot remember a time before Horde Prime. There was only war. Ravaged lands, and screaming,” he leans forward. He meets his niece’s gaze, “You might have to go to Beast Island for your answers, though I do not trust they will know more. Many of us have been alive for decades, but not millennia.”

“Is there a reason for that?” Tristan wonders. “The hivemind was the source of connection. Did you lose memories once it left?”

“No, it doesn’t seem to be that way,” Talon answers, sipping his drink. “It’s more… you have recollections, starting from the present. And it continues backwards until it stops. A wall in your head, which is the moment of when we, for lack of a better word, are ‘born.’ From what I’ve gathered, raising Eon, and observing all of you growing up, an infant that develops naturally can have memories that are faint—both in sensation and imagery, and the mind’s eye develops scenarios of what could’ve happened. Piecing puzzles in your memory banks. Attempting to make sense of your childhood and surroundings, and it even causes you to feel certain emotions into adulthood on a subconscious level. For us, and my brothers, there is no guesswork. There is the instant of emerging from the vitrine, and from there it goes on. Our memories are crystal clear, and gaps do not occur. If we feel emotion, it’s from direct experiences, not preconceived ideas of maybe how we experienced living. The hivemind being removed made us how we are now, but its absence didn’t seem to affect anything else.”

“Fascinating,” Odessa says, forgetting her meal. “So, you remember everything?”

“Yes. It would seem my brothers and I recall memories at greater capacities than most.”

“Would you say you have photographic memory?” Hydrangea asks, leaning forward.

“Our superior intellect allows us to retain knowledge quicker, and we remember things for longer, but a true photographic memory isn’t an aspect we have considered.”

Nyxia cuts into her pheasant, “It’s not unlikely. Your brothers and you have shown an uncanny ability to remember things more greatly than Etherians. It might be prudent to research it further, wouldn’t you say?”

Nodding in agreement, Odessa would not rule it out. She’ll discuss it with her mother for an unbiased opinion later.

Dinner finishes with chiffon cake and fruit, leaving guests and hosts satisfied. Talon and Nyxia wave at the door, as Eon walks them to the portal.

“It was good to see you all,” Hydrangea says, turning to Eon. She clasps his hands, “You should visit more!”

Eon blushes slightly, still not used to open demeanors, “I’ll try to make an effort.”

Tristan pats his shoulder, “You have to get out more. Between you and Odessa, I don’t know who’s more of the hermit.”

“It’s definitely me,” Eon replies. “Odessa’s too needy.”

Punching him in the arm, Odessa gives a side-hug right after. She and her friends step onto the portal, “I’ll drop by again soon! And visit my parents sometime, dumbass.”

He flips her off, smirking.

Hopping through the portal, they arrive in Plumeria, where she bids goodbye to her friends. Then, she heads to Beast Island.

“Odessa! My little cupcake, how was your trip to Mystacore?” Entrapta asks. Imp, crawling around on the walls, chirps his greetings with Emily beeping at her return.

“It was very interesting,” Odessa says, pulling out her recorder. “Would you like to listen with me?”

“You bet!” Entrapta shouts, sidling over to sit on her hair. Odessa takes a proffered seat before playing back the conversation at dinner. She listens with rapt attention, the two of them quiet. Afterward, Entrapta grins, “That was fascinating! I had noticed that your relatives tend to be more affluent with recollection than most, but this requires more study.”

“Do you think there is a possibility that they have photographic memory?”

“We won’t know unless we test the hypothesis,” Entrapta turns to her daughter, grinning wide. “You know what that means!”

Odessa grins wide too, saying it with her.

“Time to experiment!”

Odessa and Entrapta had to decide what and how to measure. The test is simple on paper, but part of the reason memory tests can be difficult is due to fallibility of nature. Recalling a memory does not equate accuracy. They also had to take into account that Etherian children were more susceptible to false memories, which could affect them as adults, hence, why Talon said that there’s no guesswork for his brothers and himself. And when it came to the ethics, Entrapta reminded Odessa that it’s part of experimentation, much to the latter’s chagrin. Odessa would’ve followed, regardless, but she’s more determined to see things through without obstacles.

A lack of true full-blooded children for Hordak’s species, and Eon and Odessa were not little anymore, that wasn’t necessary to entertain. However, Odessa and Entrapta believed it would be prudent to test the memory of Eon and any other hybrid cousins simultaneously to the Etherian and Horde groups, sans Odessa.

After deliberating, they chose to experiment by gathering Etherians between the ages of 15-50, to cover the age bases of both Etherian teens and adults, hybrid offspring, and Horde descendants. After age 14, correct absolute judgments and relative judgments have better succession rates and are not as affected by false positives. With this in mind, Odessa sends out a mass message asking if anyone would like to be part of a study.

She receives her answers quickly from her uncles, who would be more than delighted to aid her in any quest. She splits them into four groups, Group A, B, C and D. To accommodate for the choice in subjects, they will be separated into three sections, Etherians being the first, hybrids the second, and her uncles will be the third subsect. Over the course of the week, she receives the rest of her subjects at Beast Island.

Tristan and Hydrangea are the first to arrive, looking forward to spending time with her and her family in the meantime. Hydrangea gives Emily and Imp hugs and kisses, cooing over them incessantly. Imp clings to Hydrangea’s neck, completely at ease.

Tristan pats Emily’s surface, smiling at her beeps, “It’s good to see you too.”

She beeps even louder and harder, spinning around in place.

Entrapta grins, “Aw, you made her day!”

“No one else is my favorite robot, are they, Ems?” Tristan asks. She spins again, and the whirring becomes softer, almost shy.

Odessa nudges his ribs, “Great, my sister has a crush on you.”

Tristan rolls his eyes, smiling.

Odessa peers at his face, “Hey, you shaved!”

“Yeah, you were right. It was horrible,” Tristan remarks.

“You look better this way,” Odessa affirms, pinching his cheek, and he lightly whacks her fingers away.

Scorpia comes a moment later, and immediately bolts over to them all. Once the hugs are done, Scorpia and Entrapta discuss things on their own. Entrapta settles into the crook of Hordak’s arm, resting easily over her shoulders. Scorpia gushes over how cute they are. Hordak humphs in disdain, despite the blush on his cheeks.

Another five minutes pass and the portal hums. Catra, Adora, and two of their children come through.

Odessa sighs. Not looking forward to having some of them here. But she smiles, walking to Adora, “Hi! Thanks for coming.”

Adora smiles, giving Odessa a warm hug. She pulls back, holding her at arm’s length, “It’s no problem. We’re glad to help! You’ve gotten taller.”

“You’ve definitely sprouted more than we thought. I remember when you were knee-high,” Catra says. “You were the worst ankle-biter in Etheria.”

Odessa teases, “Still am.”

Laughing, Catra pats her back, walking hand in hand with Adora to their friends.

Her smile falters after that, though she manages to keep it in place. If Catra and Adora weren’t there, she wouldn’t hide her contempt or indifference.

They have four children in total. Quadruplets in fact. All a year younger than her at 15. Two of them, Clawdeen and Marlena, tend to spend their time in Bright Moon, and she has no opinion of them other than they’re not her sort of people. Well, that’s not true. They’re surprisingly elitist and refuse to associate with anyone they find unworthy of their time. They mind their business enough, however, so Odessa doesn’t pay them attention.

Barely coming to five feet tall, Molly is one of the children here today, a skittish, timid thing; the runt of her litter. She inherited Catra’s heterochromia, one eye blue, the other green, and that’s the one interesting thing about her. She stands, unsure, by the portal. Her appearance here is odd, since she tends to be alone. Odessa doesn’t hate her, or even dislike her, but the girl’s meekness doesn’t make her striking enough to have an opinion on either.

Adam, their one son, is another story. His eyes are bright blue, and slightly jarring in the feline face. The opposite of Molly, he is loud, prone to temper tantrums, and his temerity leaves much to be desired. She prefers the company of confident, open people, but he’s, without a doubt, the most obnoxious fucker she’s ever had the misfortune of knowing.

His eyes, the only one to resemble Adora’s, land on hers, and he leaps over, grinning. Placing an arm on her shoulder, leaning, he says, “Yooooo, what’s up, girl?”

Odessa turns to him, narrowing her eyes, “Please don’t take my smile for welcome, you complete ass.”

“Ooh, baby, you need to chill,” Adam says, poking her nose.

“Try that one more time and I’ll bite it off.”

He winks, “That a promise, thottie from space?”

Odessa smiles wider, eyes flashing, “It’s a threat, you parasitic fool.”

Sensing her growing irritation, her friends bound over. Hydrangea waves at Adam, “Hey! We haven’t seen you in a long time. How’ve you been?”

Adam turns to her, “Hey, Dragon Fruit! You know how I be—taking care of all this,” Adam gestures to his thin body, puffing out his chest. “What you been up to lately? Those flower braids are doing everything for your look.”

Hydrangea urges him to walk far, far, far, far away from Odessa’s area.

Rubbing her temples, Odessa takes a breath.

Tristan rubs her back, “Remember, Des: think of the experiment.”

Odessa nods at him. Science. Her one true refuge. “I know. It’s a little… irritating that he’s here. But I’m sure that empty-headed dolt will yield some results for me.”

Tristan smiles at her, ensuring she doesn’t lose her cool. Once he’s sure she won’t murder, he looks at Molly, “Hi! I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Molly brushes hair away, looking briefly at the ground before addressing him. “Yeah… Um, my moms thought it would be cool to take one or two of us. To help Odessa out.”

Odessa shakes her head, “So glad about that.”

“Um… I’m sorry about Adam...” Molly starts.

“It’s fine,” Odessa replies, focusing back on her clipboard, walking away.

Sighing, Molly bites her lower lip, feeling uneasy.

Noticing that, Tristan smiles at Molly, “Come on. We can wait over here.”

“Sorry you’re stuck with me,” she mumbles.

“I’m not stuck with you,” Tristan answers. He leads her to an unoccupied stone ledge, the occasional pooka darting across it. “Though, I didn’t think this was your sort of thing.”

“It isn’t. I don’t really want to be here,” Molly answers, pulling her legs to her chest.

“It might be fun, right?” Tristan asks.

Shrugging, Molly places her chin onto her hands.

They both watch the portal light up, a plethora of clones marching through. It has to pause for a brief moment, then it continues to spew individuals out of it. Tristan glances down at Molly, knowing there’s no point in attempting to converse. The silence doesn’t bother him, and she seems to take more comfort out of not having to make dreadful small talk. He hates it too, so this works.

Eon and his parents eventually pass through. Waving at him, Tristan reclines in his seat, “You and your folks actually came. I didn’t think any of you left the house.”

Standing with his arms behind his back, at ease, Eon smirks, “You’re all lucky we don’t come out more often.”

Tristan sticks his tongue out at him. He gestures to his left, “You remember Molly?”

Eon looks down at her, “Yes, we have met before. Nice to see you again.”

Molly flushes, turning away, “Nice to see you too…”

He glances at Tristan, who gives a one-shoulder shrug.

She keeps quiet, looking at the people around her. Hordak and his brothers all stand out as one unit, and other cousins similar to Eon slowly arrive. Not as large in number, with more variation than Hordak’s species but less than natives. She watches Etherians coming forth as well, and doesn’t wave or acknowledge them. Hoping to blend with the background, she scoots further away, sinking behind Tristan.

Tristan notes her discomfort and doesn’t move.

Eon, however, waves at some relatives, who rush over to greet him.

Molly frowns, accepting her fate. She takes to watching Eon speak with his family, his tall, sleek body impressive even among those similar to him in build. His hair, cropped shorter at the sides, falls in front of his forehead, a darker hue than his cousin Odessa. His eyes are a lovely shade, bordering on magenta with a stronger red tint, the sclera an equally pretty color, lighter than his irises. His usual confident smirk remains on his face throughout, bright, sharp teeth against the usual backdrop of pale face with the sides of his cheekbones and neck becoming a shock of dark blue or purple. It seems to be a common male trait, since Odessa’s face is white all around, but she isn’t sure. She doesn’t see the other cousins close enough to tell.

She spies Odessa wandering with her device, either barking orders or quietly checking off things. Long, lilac hair floats behind her when not in use, her frame just as slim and tight as the others, and inheriting a tall height seems to be the norm for them. Despite her gorgeous features, Molly finds it interesting, also intimidating, how much redder Odessa’s eyes and sclera are compared to Eon’s.

Hydrangea is speaking with Odessa now, platinum blonde hair brushing against her body, falling in the softest of waves to the small of her back. Her lithe frame befits the gentler, kinder nature she has, which isn’t surprising considering who her parents are. But there’s that powerful change in limb, her arms spiking at the shoulder in dark red, the skin of her arms mottled with it, until it reaches her elbows, where it spikes again, hardens, forming another patch of chitinous skin that reaches her fingertips, claws neatly filed down. And then there’s the tail, shorter, but as potent as Scorpia’s. Deadly and graceful.

She looks up at Tristan, beautiful, brown eyes staring off to the distance. Long lashes frame them, delicate yet full. His hands rest lightly over his knees, fingernails painted black. Hair reaching the end of his neck, lightly touching muscular shoulders, it enriches brown skin with its color, more than a mere dark purple. It’s the color of wine in the dark, of a gorgeous night as the last remnants of light dash away. The blue of his clothes highlight everything further, lavish gold trim clashing against the bright colors, revealing every taut muscle without meaning to, and she traces the curve of his spine with her eyes.

She feels a gaze on her, and finds her brother staring at her from a distance. Molly, snapping from her reverie, darts her sight to the ground. Unaware of Tristan looking in her direction.

Once enough participants have arrived, Odessa claps her hands, “Alright, people! Listen up: I have divided you all into the following groups. Step up this way, where I will assign you all with a place to go to.”

Adam bounds up out of nowhere, whispering, “Can whatever group I’m in be called Team Sexy?”

Odessa ignores him, “Let’s begin, shall we?”

HYDRANGEA

Age: 15

Species: Etherian

“Alright,” Odessa says. “I’m going to show you 10 pictures. You will have seven seconds to absorb all the details for them, and afterward, I will ask you one simple question about what you can remember.”

“You got it!” Hydrangea sits in her chair, comfortable. “Sounds easy enough.”

Odessa smiles, “Here’s your first one.”

She holds up a simple image of table mats atop a wooden surface, decorated with plates of breakfast foods, drinks, and fresh fruits.

“Okay, ready for the question?”

“Yep!”

“What fruits topped the waffles?”

“Oh, um… berries and apples?”

Writing it down, Odessa proceeds with the next image.

TRISTAN

Age: 17

Species: Etherian

“Hello!” Entrapta says, bringing him in. “I’m going to show you 10 pictures for less than 10 seconds each, and you’ll let me know what you remember.”

“Sure thing,” Tristan replies, sitting upright.

She pulls out an image of miscellaneous items and personal effects on a desk, three photographs in the middle, a drawing in one of the corners, a grey notebook, and a folder with intricate patterns.

“Okay, ready for the question?”

“Yes.”

“Were there tickets on the table?”

Tristan mulls his answers for a moment, “No.”

MOLLY

Age: 15

Species: Etherian

Odessa approaches the girl, relieved that she doesn’t have to deal with the handful that was her brother. She looks at Molly, “I’m going to hold up 10 pictures for you, and you will have seven seconds to absorb the image. Afterward, I will ask you questions.”

“Alright,” Molly nods, nails clicking against each other.

The image is of a mountain peak, glinting from the light; the moon shines above it, and a trip of hoofed animals moving along its surface.

“What was the total number of baby goats in the image?”

Molly thinks over the total, and says, “Five.”

ADAM

Age: 15

Species: Etherian

Entrapta comes into the room, “Hello! I’m going to be showing you some pictures—”

Adam interrupts her, “Is this going to take long?”

“Nope! It takes less than five minutes for this segment to be complet—”

“Do we get paid to do this?”

“...No.”

Scratching his nose, Adam leans back in his chair, “Got it, got it. Lay it on me, girl!”

Entrapta smiles, “Great! So, I have 10 pictures and I will show them to you for about seven seconds. I will ask you questions after each one about what you saw.”

“Question real quick: is this one of those tests that explain anything about your psychosis?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is it gonna tell me anything, like, am I gonna learn about who is the most likely to be a murderer or nymphomaniac?”

Raising a brow at him, Entrapta says, “I can’t divulge too much about the study to participants. But this is not that kind of test.”

“Aw… okay,” Adam shifts back further in his seat, lifting the front legs from the ground. “Well, that’s less fun.”

Entrapta proceeds to bring out a picture: a series of potted plants are lined on shelves, different heights and colors smashed closely together in the frame, their pots not resembling the others save for a few.

“What was the centre motif for the pots?”

Adam scratches his chin, “Frog, I think.”

EON

Age: 18

Species: Etherian and ?

Odessa approaches her cousin, sitting relaxed in the seat. She had gone through the first ten pictures with him already. She glances at him, “Are you ready to continue with the process?”

“Whatever this study is, I’m assuming that you need me to come back again for another trial run.”

“Yes, you will be returning a few times after today to aid in the study, as per your agreement on the written form.”

“Of course.”

“You went through the first half, and you’re going to begin the second half now. This is slightly different,” Odessa explains. Instead of photographs, she holds up a pad, similar in size and weight to her telecommunicator. “I am going to hold up one image: a grid of white and black squares. Then, I will show you a second image, of the same number of squares on the grid; however, you will choose the one square you believe was white in both image one and image two. Image three will have the grids with numbers in the squares instead for you to pick. The amount of time will be the same, seven seconds. There are four levels of difficulty, and you will proceed until we reach the last level.”

Nodding, Eon watches her lift the screen to his eyes. A grid of white and black appears, and he keeps in mind which are white only. The second image appears. Then the third. He makes his decision. He will not know if he is right, as the data is processed within for the researchers alone.

Odessa keeps her face neutral the entire time, intrigued at what this part of the test will yield from everyone else.

TALON

Age: approx. 90 (total) | approx. 52 (mental) | approx. 52 (physiological)

Species: ?

Entrapta smiles, “We do appreciate you helping with the test.”

“It is no trouble,” Talon states. “You and my niece are a select few that do not leave me…”

“Irritated?”

“We’ll use that word.”

Entrapta approaches her brother-in-law, setting herself down on swathes of hair, “Are you ready for the second half of the test?”

“Yes. By all means, little sister, proceed.”

“Excellent! I’m going to show you a grid with black and white squares. Another image will appear after on the device. The number of squares will not change, however, you have to decide what is the one square that remained white. You will pick that in the third image, where the squares will all be numbered.”

“Understood. You may show me the first image.”

W.H.

Age: approx. 40 (total) | approx. 23 (mental) | approx. 27 (physiological)

Species: ?

“This must be exciting for you, isn’t it?” W.H. asks. “You haven’t done a study like this in a while.”

Readying the pad, she nods, “It has been a few years since I’ve conducted anything in this manner.”

“I still remember when you were little, and you insisted on having your first experiment be a methane explosion. You were so cute!”

Odessa smiles, “Speaking of memory, we’re going to begin the second half of the test. You will have the same amount of time to memorize the image on screen. Another will follow right after, and your task is to choose which square on the grid remained white. The image will be your selection on a numbered grid.”

“Sounds fun!”

Holding it up for him, Odessa watches his eyes stay in place, focused. A flicker to indicate change on the screen, then another before he makes his decision.

HORDAK

Age: approx. 56 (total) | approx. 57 (mental) | approx. 35 (physiological)

Species: ?

Entrapta can’t help but smile at him, “Thanks for helping, Lab Partner!”

Hordak smiles back, rising from the chair, “Of course. The experiment seems to be going well.”

“It’s been so fascinating!” Entrapta lifts herself up in the air, at his height. “Everyone has been super helpful, even when they’re rambling about their own assumptions!”

“Who was rambling?”

“One of Catra’s kids—the boy. He was very interesting when he talked, but I had to stay focused! We’re collecting so much data… Odessa is going to be ecstatic!”

Happy to see her in good spirits, Hordak leans forward, kissing her cheek, “When you’re done, I will be waiting for you in our room.”

Entrapta waggles her eyebrows at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Ooh! Is this about that new maneuver you wanted to show me?”

“We’ll see if your memory serves you just as well tonight,” Hordak smirks.

Squealing, Entrapta kicks her legs behind her, pecking his mouth with her own. “Can’t wait!”

The results, overall, took two months to compile through the data machine and to check back in with the participants. None of the groups had different numbers, pictures, objects, or words. Odessa and Entrapta tested everyone on their eidetic and photographic memory ability. Group A had no distractions, Group B had Etherians with distractions only, Group C was where her cousins had the disturbances, and Group D it was her uncles with diversions.

When it came to eidetic memory, the numbers didn’t vary too much. But the photographic memory yielded noteworthy results. Each group was brought back a month after being tested to see if they could recall things better. A few Etherians showed some promising ability for it, but overall it wasn’t strong. Her cousins showed stronger signs for photographic memory, Eon being one of the best candidates.

But her uncles were nearly at a 97% rate of accuracy. Talon and W.H. showed an adeptness for remembering things weeks later. Hordak was somewhere in the middle. She wonders why.

“Mom,” she says, holding the charts in her hair. “I know that photographic memory is rare, but these numbers are unreal.”

“I know! The majority of your relatives have a knack for it! That’s so fascinating.”

“I have a theory that it might be due to the hivemind, and perhaps the military training they underwent. It would make sense why they have such capability, even two decades later,” Odessa says. She pulls another chart toward them, tapping her forefinger in quick successions behind it. “It may or may not be that, since we’re not certain of Dad’s origins, but it would explain aspects of it.”

Entrapta’s hair moves her behind her daughter, peering over her shoulder, “It may. I saw that Wrong Hordak was remarkable with photographic memory, and Talon as well.”

“I believe it’s possible that it might be due to neither having depressive episodes. It may have been a group study, but I saw that clones similar to Dad in terms of mental health had a tendency toward memory loss or confusion. It’s not as often or strong as Etherians, or a couple of my cousins, but it’s there. Brains are brains after all.”

“It is exceptional to write this in our records. I wish we had more examples to go by,” Entrapta says. She smiles, “I think it says quite a lot when you compare it to Etherians and your cousins, though.”

“I do find this riveting. Even if it’s Dad cloned thousands of times, there’s something in their brains, their minds, that can provide clues to them as a whole. It’d be prudent to conduct more research, but I’d like to begin as soon as possible, and I can add notes as I go along.”

Entrapta pats her daughter’s head, “And now that you have this information, what do you intend to do with it?”

Odessa looks up at her mother, then back at the data. “I’m going to have Tris and Gea come with me on a little field trip.”

#entrapdak #entrapta #hordak #entrapdak fankid #odessa #shera #spop

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i-just-love-spop · 4 years

Text

About what happened...

“I had another nightmare. You died again.” For Scorpia and Entrapta? Scorpia feels guilty for leaving Entrapta on the island for as long as she did and is plagued with nightmares where she didn't leave in time to get her back?

Request by @haro-ra

I was not expecting to get a request for Entrapta and Scorpia, but I love this idea so much and immediately knew what I wanted to write. I love both characters, and they have such a fun dynamic, too. This was SO fun to write!

Thank you so much for the request, I hope you like how it turned out!

Summary: Takes place in between “Horde Prime” and “Launch”. Scorpia goes to Entrapta’s tent to talk about what happened back at the Horde and tell her she’s sorry she didn’t come look for her earlier.

—

“Hey. Sorry, I know it’s late, but...”

Scorpia stuck her head through the tent entrance. Her pincers clicked open and close on repeat nervously.

“Oh, hi Scorpia.” Entrapta looked up from the drone she had been dismembering for the last hour and waved at her friend. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping? My statistics indicate most princesses tend to be sleeping at this hour. The exception to the rule is Adora, but recent events seem to indicate that lack of sleep isn’t good for her health, either.”

“Yeah, I... that’s true. I think... most people need sleep?” Scorpia shrugged. “Anyway, I... wanted to talk to you. Can I- can I come in?”

“Sure. I mean, about...” Entrapta paused to calculate for a moment, “seventeen percent of you are already in here anyway. The remaining eighty-three percent can enter.”

She smiled at her.

Scorpia was nice, and one of the few people that had ever actually considered Entrapta her friend.

People were... weird, and complicated, and everyone was different. That wasn’t exactly easy for her. It had never been.

But Scorpia was just nice, and friendly, and supportive. She made Entrapta feel less left out. Entrapta liked that.

“Yeah, I- sorry, that was kinda rude, I didn’t want to disturb you or anything. I was actually going to knock, but this is a tent, so that was kind of ineffective.”

Scorpia rubbed the back of her head and grinned sheepishly.

“It’s fine, really. Come sit with me!”

“I... thanks.”

The white-haired woman did as she was told.

Entrapta pointed at disassembled pieces of drone in front of her. “This tech is fascinating! It’s so different from the one the First One’s left on Etheria. If you would look at this-”

“I-” Scorpia took a deep breath. This was hard. Stars, this was really, really hard. Especially since she was afraid changing the topic might make her friend think she wasn’t interested and hurt her feelings. Which absolutely wasn’t the case. It was really interesting to Scorpia when Entrapta talked about tech, even if she understood next to nothing. But that wasn’t what she needed to talk to her about right now. “Entrapta, listen, I- this tech thing is super interesting, really, but there’s actually something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” Entrapta looked up at her. “What is it?”

“Uhm... I... About what happened... Back at the Horde, I mean... Entrapta listen, I- I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have let Catra hurt you, I shouldn’t have let them take you away like that, I... I should have left the Horde and go look for you sooner. You- you could’ve gotten hurt, or... or worse-”

Scorpia couldn’t say it out loud. She couldn’t bear saying ‘you could’ve been dead by now, and it would be partially my fault if you were’, no matter how much the thought wouldn’t leave her head when she looked at her friend and no matter how much it haunted her in her sleep.

Entrapta raised an eyebrow.

“Waaait. Are you... apologizing? To me?”

She looked genuinely confused.

The white-haired woman nodded vigorously.

“I...” Scorpia swallowed hard. Tears were running down her face. “I’m sorry I was such a bad friend.”

“Hey... don’t cry. I don’t like seeing you upset.” Entrapta smiled at Scorpia encouragingly. “I’m not mad at you. But... I forgive you, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does, actually. A lot. I-I’m so sorry. I keep dreaming about something happening to you on Beast Island and when I wake up I keep wanting to check on you to make sure you’re actually here and okay, but I kept chickening out because I wasn’t sure if you were ready to forgive me or talk to me and I thought maybe you still needed some space – which would be totally cool by the way. Do you need space?”

Entrapta tilted her head to one side.

“I just said I’m not mad. Was my answer not clear enough?“

“I- no- I just...” Scorpia sighed. “I’m sorry. I... guess I was expecting you to stay mad at me longer.”

Entrapta gave her friend a pat on the head with her hair.

“It’s okay. And Scorpia... you’re not a bad friend.”

“I... I’m not?”

The tech genius shook her head.

“I mean, I’m still not an expert on friendship because the data on that topic is really confusing, but... I think you were just trying to be a good friend for Catra too hard.” She shrugged. “I get it. You find a friend, or a lab partner, and being with them is fun and makes you happy, so you do everything you can to help them, so they’re also happy. I mean, I did it for myself, too. Building the robots was an incredible experience, and working on the portal with Hordak was sooo fun!” The excitement in her voice died down quickly as she lowered her head. “But... people got hurt, and now nobody likes me anymore.”

Scorpia patted her friend‘s head with one of her pincers.

“Hey, that’s not true. I like you. And I’m sure the other will, too, eventually. It’s just a weird situation for all of us, with the war and Prime and-” Scorpia hung her head. “I still can’t believe how nice everyone here is. I hurt them, too. I feel so bad about it now.”

Entrapta shrugged.

“We can’t change the past, scientifically speaking. Not yet, at least. And even if I were to invent time machines, I still have tons of different theories about if and how it could change the past and there’s no real way of knowing which one of them is accurate until we test it! Isn’t that exciting?!”

Her eyes gleamed. Scorpia chuckled.

“I mean, yeah. Totally!”

She had no idea what her friend was talking about, but Entrapta sounded excited and happy and that was pretty contagious.

“We can start getting hung up on past mistakes when I finish it! But for now, let’s just... try to not hurt our friends anymore. Maybe I can use my technical knowledge to help them. Maybe then they’ll... like me again.”

Scorpia hugged her.

Stars, she loved hugs. They always made her feel better. And it worked for most other people, too.

“I’m sure they will. You’re great. And when your robots aren’t trying to kill people, they’re actually really friendly! I mean, look at Emily.”

The robot was integrating into the group very well, all things considered.

“Thanks!” Entrapta grinned. “Oh, speaking of, thanks for taking care of Emily when I was gone. She really likes you!”

“Of course. Anytime. Emily is great. And I... figured the least I could do was protect her from Catra after I didn’t protect you.”

Entrapta’s look turned puzzled again.

“Catra... I’ve never had as much trouble understanding anyone as I have understanding her – which is saying a lot, because I’m just... not great with people in general. I don’t know why she’s so difficult to figure out. I... thought she was my friend, but then she hurt me, and now I don’t know what to think anymore.” She looked kind of hurt, but shrugged it off a moment later. “It’s almost like Catra never says what she really means, and no matter what she does, nothing ever makes her actually happy. The only constant I can find with her is Adora.”

Scorpia threw her pincers in the air.

“Tell me about it! Catra is, like, really big on talking about her all day. ‘Adora here, She-Ra there, I can’t believe she’s doing this, how dare she do that, we used to be best friends‘ – the whole shebang. And even when she’s not talking about her, you sometimes feel like she’s still implying something Adora-related.“

“Yeah, she definitely has some kind of fixation on her,” Entrapta concluded. She still seemed kind of lost in thought for a moment. “And my analysis from Princess Prom indicates that it at least used to be mutual. I haven’t collected enough data yet to find out what the current situation on this is.“

Scorpia shook her head.

“Oh, don’t get me started on the weird passive-aggressive slow dancing they had going on at Princess Prom. Seriously, what is it with these two?“

The Scorpioni chuckled, but the feeling of happiness soon vanished, replaced by the same bittersweet thought that had kept crossing her mind a lot recently.

“In all seriousness, though... I hope Catra’s alright, wherever she might be now. She hurt me, but... I still kind of miss her. I still kind of hope she could, you know, be better. I don’t think I would be ready to just let her back into my life if she showed up outside the tent right now, but... She’s just making herself miserable the way she’s acting. I don’t want her to be miserable. Even after everything, I kind of just want her to be happy. Is that stupid? It’s probably stupid.“

“It’s not stupid.” Entrapta put one of her pigtails on Scorpia’s shoulder. “One thing that is statistically very frequent in friendships is that most people don’t want their loved ones to be unhappy or get hurt.“

“Huh. Yeah. Guess you’re right.” Scorpia exhaled loudly. “Glad I got that outta my system. I feel so much better now.” Despite Entrapta being someone who struggled with friendship a lot, she actually understood more about it than most people. “I’m just... happy you’re okay.”

“More than okay, actually. Beast Island was really interesting and I made so much progress with my research and my theories, and now I get to take all of this new technology apart!”

Entrapta was beaming.

“You were going to tell me something about this tech-stuff earlier?“

“Eeeeek, I was hoping you would ask!”

Scorpia still didn’t understand much of what Entrapta was saying, but it sounded exciting, and she didn’t care too much about understanding it.

She was just glad to have her back.

#scorpia #entrapta #spop #spop fic #spop writing prompts #spop requests #my works #my writing #spop season five spoilers #spop season five #reblogs are appreciated #but please don’t repost

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pennamesmith · 3 years

Text

Secret of the Skeletor

Skeletor sneaks out. Some less-prominent former members of the Horde receive community outreach. More Skeletor stories!

Skeletor sat alone in the laboratory.

He had strict orders not to go anywhere or do anything. As one of Horde Prime’s drone bots, he knew the importance of rules. But ever since Entrapta had reprogrammed him with a name and a unique personality, he also knew the importance of breaking them.

Skeletor chuckled. He stood up, paused, then sat back down again and laughed some more as he pondered his options.

Just about everybody else in Bright Moon was busy. Even Wrong Hordak’s usual support group was canceled while he attended the queen’s cabinet meeting about Entrapta’s new interdimensional research findings.

This meant it was the perfect time for Skeletor to venture outside the kingdom. A community outreach day. He grinned. Pausing only to giggle again and leash his beloved robot puppy, Relay, Skeletor snatched up Darla’s ignition crystal and shambled out the door.

“Now for a little vanishing act!” he declared as he left.

It was going to be a good day.

Kyle braced himself as soon as he heard the ship engines come to a stop outside the window.

“Hey, guys?” he called to the other two inhabitants of their modest home. “I think —”

He was interrupted by the sound of splintering wood. “Strong, but not strong enough!” Skeletor yelled as he cheerfully kicked in the door. Rogelio, who had been going to open it, bristled in shock while Lonnie yelped and grabbed a frying pan from the kitchen, brandishing it like a club from behind the counter.

A long, stale moment passed.

“...It’s all part of the game!” Skeletor explained apologetically, as he turned and tried to replace the door on its hinges. “We don’t want to hurt anyone!” At his feet, Relay peered inside the room and barked, tail wagging.

All three of the former Horde soldiers relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief, though Lonnie’s battle-ready expression did not change.

“Do you really have to do that every time you come over?” Kyle asked, poking at the loosely swinging door.

“Yes,” Skeletor replied honestly.

Rogelio shrugged and growled something indistinct.

Lonnie quirked an eyebrow. “What? You asked him to come here?”

“We both did,” Kyle piped up. He reached for Rogelio’s hand in reassurance. “We… kinda wanted to get some more information on Wrong Hordak’s support group.”

Dutifully, Skeletor produced a sheaf of pamphlets and papers detailing schedules and services and handed them over to the two young men. Rogelio accepted them all with a brief roar of thanks.

Lonnie shook her head, still frowning. “Oh no. I already told you, I am not interested. Going over there for wellness day was one thing, but there are too many people there that I still just… can’t be around. And he’s nice and all, but I don’t think Wrong Hordak really gets me.”

“Running away. So impolite!” Skeletor scoffed.

“That’s okay!” Kyle hastily added. “You don’t have to come with us. We’d never force you into something like this.”

“Running away sounds like a terrific idea!” Skeletor said.

Kyle looked at Rogelio. “It’s just, we’ve been talking, and I think we want to give it a try. Even if it doesn’t work out, we might be able to learn some stuff that could help. Taking the first step can be really hard, even when it’s the right thing. And we’ll be here if you decide you’re ready, but we’ll be here if you don’t, too.”

Lonnie’s expression softened, slightly. “Thanks guys,” she said, and meant it. She went to hug the other two. “Now, let’s see about making this robot fix our door.” She pounded a fist into her palm meaningfully.

“I think it’s time for me to leave and take care of another matter!” Skeletor squeaked, and beat a hasty retreat.

Darla hovered serenely above the water on the Salinean coast. While Relay napped in the captain’s chair, Skeletor strolled unhurriedly along the docks. He stopped in front of a small, shabby storefront and looked curiously at the sign above the door.

Sea Hawk’s Ship Disposal and Firewood Emporium, it read. You Crash ‘Em, We Burn ‘Em!

“I think I’ll make him my court jester, if he’s funny enough!” Skeletor proclaimed, and walked inside.

However, it was instantly apparent from the lack of off-key sea shanties being sung that the shop’s namesake proprietor was currently absent. This suited the skinny robot just fine. The real subject of his visit was the new part-time hire, who sat slouched at the register behind a gossip-scroll and an eyepatch.

Octavia brightened when she saw Skeletor enter. “Hey, I was wondering when you’d make it back here!” she called out. Skeletor waved in response and marched over, holding out a laden bag.

“I’ve brought you a present!” Skeletor announced.

Octavia’s good eye shone as she reached inside and pulled out a glittering, silver fishing net. “Oh, wow, Entrapta finished it already!” she gushed, holding the netting up to the light to admire it.

“That net is made of elastium!” Skeletor boasted. “It’s not only one of the hardest substances in the universe, it also stretches!”

“Hey, thanks for helping me commission this,” Octavia said, looking back. She smiled wistfully. “Entrapta really was the best part of the Horde when we were all there, you know? She was so nice to everyone, and Hordak was loads calmer, and all our maintenance complaints got fixed practically overnight!”

“That’s just peachy for you!” Skeletor said.

“Plus, it kinda took some of the sting out of having to take orders from the kid who did this when we were six,” Octavia added, gesturing to her eyepatch. “I had ambitions, you know? I was the first of our class to make Force Captain. I was going places! Of course, none of that matters anymore.”

Her sour expression melted as she looked back at the new net. “But that won’t stop me! With this I can make some extra money on the side selling seafood. Then I’ll buy this place from Sea Hawk — honestly, I think he forgets he owns it sometimes — and turn it into a crafting and antique shop, Octopus Cove or Mystic Isle or something. After that I’ll take over all the shops on the dock one by one, and then the beach tourism market will be mine! Ha ha!”

She cackled with evil glee. Skeletor joined in, politely.

“Too bad about the others, but at least I escaped!” Skeletor concluded, and left to continue his mission.

“Beast-Man!” Skeletor sang as the door opened.

“I still don’t know who that is, but it’s good to see you again too,” Grizzlor grinned. “Come on in, buddy!”

Skeletor followed the wolffish giant inside while Relay trotted happily at his heels. Grizzlor’s husband, fellow former Horde Commander Cobalt, was relaxing in their living room and waved when he saw the bot.

“Skeletor! How’ve you been?”

“Sitting down on the job?” Skeletor barked. “I’ll help you, if only to be rid of you!” He offered Cobalt a thick folder of paperwork. “Here, here it is!”

Cobalt accepted the folder reverentially. “Really? I knew it was a long shot asking Hordak for help, but all the red tape was getting to be such a nightmare that I just didn’t know what to do anymore.” He sniffled and wiped a tear from his eye. “Thank you so much!”

“You’re crying for Hordak?” Skeletor huffed. “I don’t believe it!”

“I can’t believe that worked,” Grizzlor admitted. “I mean, I always thought Hordak hated me,” he added sheepishly. “Especially after that thing with the two neckties.”

Cobalt shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think Hordak ever really hated anybody. He just didn’t know what to do with anyone. Now, Shadow Weaver on the other hand…”

“Most unpleasant!” Skeletor muttered.

“Exactly. But I think Hordak did care, in his own way. He saw how scared we were of combat during the early days, in the Scorpion uprising. I think that’s why he kept me teaching the cadets and you on the easy patrols, Grizz.”

Grizzlor chuckled. “Aw, I can’t imagine you being scared of anything, big guy!”

“Oh, I wasn’t always like this!” Cobalt demurred, flexing his shoulders. “Back in my cadet days I was so skinny everyone called me ‘Mantenna’! Used to joke that I’d fall through a crack in the floor if I wasn’t careful.”

“Another piece of the puzzle!” said Skeletor.

Cobalt slung an arm around Grizzlor. “But listen, Horde or no, I’ll always be there for you.” He held up the adoption papers Skeletor had delivered. “And now, we might have something else to protect together.”

Skeletor’s last stop was a recently-refurbished tavern just inside the Crimson Waste. He nodded approvingly at the osseous architecture and then pushed his way through the curtain while Relay ran ahead, yapping.

Inside there was a wide, smoky space filled with outlaws and ruffians of every species imaginable. They all turned to look as Skeletor entered.

“That’s it! Kneel before your new master!” Skeletor bellowed.

Everyone immediately went back to what they had been doing. The chatter and plinky piano music returned. Relay found a small lizard and began to chase it around the floor.

“Skeletor! It’s good to see you back, friend!”

An enormous purple hand clapped the robot on the shoulder. Skeletor looked up into the smiling face of a towering barbarian.

“Can I get you anything?” Huntara asked, conversationally. “Minions to yell at? A ribcage chair to sit in?”

“Unnecessary! Because we’ve already found you!” Skeletor replied.

“Good, I was hoping you’d say that. Zed! Sunder!” Huntara called out. Two Horde clones who were staffing the bar — one seeming slightly shorter than the typical clone brother, and the other a bit older and wrinklier — glanced up at the sound of their names and hurried over.

“Keep an eye on the door, willya? I need to talk to bonehead here for a bit. We’ve got… business to discuss.”

The two clones nodded seriously, and Huntara escorted Skeletor to a secretive back room behind the bar. Inside there were many potted cacti, two comfortable chairs, and a little table with a miniature sand garden on top. It had a tiny, handheld rake for making soothing patterns in the sand.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Huntara sighed in relief, dropping into one of the chairs. Relay jumped into her lap and she patted his head gratefully. “I have so much to talk about! You know how last time I was telling you about Grox and all the things she was saying to me? Well…”

“Easy, don’t overexert yourself! It’ll only cause you to weaken more quickly,” Skeletor cautioned. He settled into the other chair and leaned forward, listening intently.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just nice to have someone to talk to, Huntara said. “I don’t feel comfortable in big groups and I can’t always open up to the people around here. So thanks for stopping by.”

Skeletor nodded. “I’m right here, old friend! Release the shadow beast!”

A weight seemed to leave Huntara’s shoulders. “All right. Now, like I was saying…”

Long after the stars had come out, the laboratory door finally swung open again. Entrapta and Hordak, looking exhausted but accomplished, strode inside with their arms full of rolled-up diagrams and data sheets from that day’s presentation.

“...And they listened to everything I said!” Entrapta exclaimed as they came in. “I can’t remember the last time anybody besides you paid attention to me for that long. It was kinda scary, but it felt kinda good, too!”

“They were fools if they never attended to you before,” Hordak purred, smiling proudly. “And I cannot imagine they would disregard you now. After all, you are talking about the prospect of rescuing —”

“Sounds like we’ve got company!” Skeletor interrupted, welcoming the couple back to the lab. He was sitting, hands primly folded, in exactly the same spot as he had been when they left. “I’ve been expecting you!”

“Oh. Hello, Skeletor,” Hordak sighed, reluctantly looking away from Entrapta. “Did you follow my instructions to stay put today?”

Skeletor crossed his fingers and nodded.

“Did you follow my instructions?” Entrapta whispered, after Hordak had gone on ahead. Skeletor nodded again, much more enthusiastically this time.

“Good robot!” Entrapta replied, with a wink and a smile. “Thanks for helping out!” Then she scampered away to keep up with her lab partner.

“Ha! My plan has worked perfectly!” Skeletor gloated. “Now I have the power!”

#Skeletor #she ra #spop #fan fiction #horde trio #octavia #grizzlor #commander cobalt #huntara #entrapdak #grizzlor/cobalt #smith stuff #I wonder what that big meeting was all about

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sheblah · 4 years

Note

Ok so DT only seems to copy people they've met right? I can't think of them ever shapeshifting into someone they haven't canonically met before. So... DT has met the real peekablue and might be the only character in the cast who has

I think they can replicate anyone they've "seen," whether in person or in a picture. They'd never met Entrapta, but they were able to replicate her hair - probably by seeing that drawing of her in the cadets' locker room. But they couldn't replicate her face or body because it was, after all, just a drawing.

So... maybe there are pictures of Peekablue out there? He is a prince; he must have been somewhat publicized before he went into hiding. So, DT probably did the research and found some pics before stealing his look. They might be very outdated pics, though! Kid pics, even! So I think DT's interpretation wasn't totally accurate.

That said, I also like the idea that DT is lowkey friends with a hermit prince and nobody knows how.

Perfuma: Ok, so you were just doing a "gig," but stealing identities is still wrong! How would Prince Peekablue feel?

DT: I wrote him a letter. He was fine with it.

Perfuma: ...what

DT: I told him to watch, actually. He really needs to learn how to properly contour with his face shape.

#ask #double trouble #peekablue #spop s5 #s5 spoilers #spop spoilers

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queenofthelanternfish · 4 years

Text

Disclaimer: New chapter upload from my lovely gf @anesther! I particularly love this chapter because I am completely biased since my baby girl Odessa is in here!!!

AN: Finally, she shows up.

Title: Interfaces

Characters: Entrapta, Hordak, featuring Odessa

Pairing: Entrapdak

Rating: G

Go to AO3 to read better.

Wedding

Odessa has been alive for three years.

There are lots of things she knows, despite her young age. Her mother says she will only continue to learn more, for life is a never-ending research project. Her father believes nothing can’t be achieved without patience, and sometimes a little force.

She learned how to read before she was even six months of age, according to Etherian standards. Her body is developing at a different rate than most children, she’s been told. There are similarities between her and children from Etheria, but she isn’t on the same level when it comes to mental and physical changes. She considers Emily and Imp to be her siblings, and she finds their presence comforting.

Her parents said she’s the most fascinating thing they’ve ever created.

Odessa likes to sit with her progenitors and watch them build machines, ranging anywhere from harmless technology, meant only to advance a field or lifeforms, to dangerous weapons, meant as a ‘just in case’ scenario. Her father is nothing, if not thorough, and, in her opinion, paranoid.

Her mother is an optimistic wonder, unable to view the negative in a situation for too long. She craves success, but she also knows to take her time with a particular feat. She is not without her limits, however, knowing there is a line that can be crossed if she is pushed beyond what she can take.

Odessa, Princess of Dryl, Heir to the Horde, believes her parents are an equally riveting aspect to life on the ship.

She had been perusing the small, if well-stocked and excellent, library that is kept at the back of the spacecraft. Emily and Imp usually follow her, and when they, inevitably, fall asleep from the relaxed atmosphere, Odessa learns as many new things as she is able.

For fun, she decided to read the dictionary. Normally, she wouldn’t. It’s a ‘baby step’ to knowledge, but when she desires laidback reading, she will pick that up. Scanning down the ‘W’ section, she came across the word ‘wedding.’ A noun, though an attributive one. Meaning any one of three definitions, but they all mean the same: a ceremony meant to celebrate the union of people, normally two.

She has heard of there being more than two, but the planets she has been to have, more or less, continued the tradition of monogamy. You would think with hundreds of planets, there would be some type of variation. Her mother said she expected more polyamorous couplings. Her father said most he’s found are often sexless, biological- and societal-wise, thus the concept of romantic partnership isn’t necessary.

But it gets her thinking. There is no doubt her parents love each other, and neither of them are overly sentimental. Well, her mother is. She likes to have pictures of cute things on her desk, and engages with possessing a keepsake or three, if they really mean a lot to her. Her father, not so much. He likes what he has, and that means his family. The only material item that matters is the gemstone engraved with First Ones lettering. Even if it didn’t have to be attached to him, Odessa knows he would never throw it out.

So she sits now, eyeing her creators with curious wide eyes.

Entrapta smiles at her, “Sweetie, can you hand me the drill?”

Quietly, she gives the tool to her mother’s outstretched tendril. Opting to remain standing, she jumps over to where they’re working, getting a closer view. Hunching over, knees to her chin, she observes the proper handling of the instruments. On occasion, they will allow her to try operating an apparatus, but while she is capable, her dexterity isn’t quite there yet.

They work in tandem with wordless expressions and motions, a sign of having known each other for a long time. She thrums her fingers on her kneecaps, absorbed in her typical pastime of inspection.

Entrapta looks up, hearing a beep from above, “Oh, it’s time for a snack!” Using her hair to propel her across the room, she opens the small pantry, kept here for quick breaks. Her hair extends back out to where they are, forming a small, circular seat, “Odessa, do you want to pick out what you want?”

Odessa hops on, swinging her feet. She points to fruit juice, potato chips, and a type of sour candy her father found for her when he went out to scope a more hostile territory that would not have boded well for her mother and her physically.

Coming back together, Odessa snaps back the tab on her soda, taking a plentiful sip. She hears Hordak give a small sigh. He prefers giving her a more balanced nutritional diet to keep her metabolic processes functioning correctly, but considering she needs more calories than any child he had in the Horde, he doesn’t complain, so long as she eats decent meals. Entrapta, as she put it, ate nothing but cake and soda for a long time, and she turned out fine.

He wasn’t too amused but he let it be.

“Did you learn anything in the library?” Entrapta asks, popping a potato chip into her mouth.

Odessa nods.

“Is that why you’ve been more quiet?” Hordak adds, setting down a beaker. He folds his arms across his chest, leaning against the table. “It must’ve been rather intriguing for you.”

Odessa answers with another nod.

Grabbing a notepad and pen, Entrapta places it in front of her daughter, “Can you write it out?”

Sucking on the hard candy, Odessa clicks the pen. Word complete, as well as definition, she holds it up for them to look at.

Hordak leans over Entrapta, the two of them reading it.

He turns to her, “What caught your attention about this word?”

Odessa flips over the page, scribbling her query, “Did you two have a wedding?”

Entrapta drinks her soda. Scratching her cheek, she looks up at her lab partner. She replies, “There didn’t seem to be a need for it, I suppose?”

“Why not?” she writes.

Hordak shrugs, “Your mother and I never discussed it. It’s not an event my species holds sacred, and as you know, many don’t. The concept of holding a celebration to pronounce a commitment is a waste of time. If desires and needs are met, and affection doesn’t dwindle, I don’t need to prove why with some fanciful get-together.”

“Same thoughts?” Odessa asks, pointing to the sentence with her pen, then at her mother.

Entrapta laughs, “I never thought about it! Weddings can be lovely, and there’s loads of delicious food, but it wasn’t something I’d demand.”

Odessa hums in understanding. Scribbling down on the notepad, she asks, “Would you ever want one?”

“I don’t think so. We kinda did it our own way,” Entrapta looks over her shoulder, eyes on Hordak’s face. “Your father proposed to me the moment he asked if I would leave Etheria behind, and travel the universe with him. That was all I ever wanted.”

A genuine smile comes onto his features.

Odessa mirrors it, pleased with the answers.

Entrapta drains the last bit of her soda, throwing away her bag of chips. Dusting off her hands, she asks, “Did you want us to do a wedding? Just to show you?” Shaking her head, Odessa writes, “Maybe one day. When I’m bored.”

That statement makes her parents burst out laughing. Her father even snorts, causing them to cackle harder.

Entrapta and Hordak resume their business. Satisfied with the afternoon’s impromptu lesson, Odessa yawns. Crawling over to a spot near the desk, she cuddles into a makeshift, tiny bed. She falls asleep to her parents’ talking, content.

#entrapdak #entrapta #hordak #spop #shera

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harrowharkboygf · 4 years

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double trouble and the one (1) time they were good with kids

Double Trouble has never thought of themself as a “kid person”. All of the creatures they could choose to interact with on Etheria, children were certainly not at the top of the list. But for Finn, they would make an exception. read on ao3 | blm donation commissions

As they flipped through the pages of their notebook, Double Trouble became increasingly irritated. All they had wanted to do was research for their latest play—a harrowing tale of love between two First Ones—and word on the street was that Madame Razz was the only person left on Etheria who remembered what the long-gone civilization had actually been like.

But talking to her was absolutely incomprehensible. She spouted more nonsense than anyone Double Trouble had ever met, and they’d met Entrapta. How in the world were they supposed to properly act when they were incapable of understanding who their character was? They were a method actor, for fuck’s sake!

They sighed. At least the pie Razz had made had tasted good. They reclined back in their perch amongst the treetops, marking up their script with what little information they had. Worst come to worst, Double Trouble could always pay a visit to Brightmoon. Surely Adora knew something about the First Ones, being She-Ra and all that.

“I think we’re lost,” a little voice said from below them.

“We’re not lost, Luna!” a different voice declared. “I know where we’re going!”

“Suuuuuure,” said a third voice skeptically.

“We aren’t!” the second voice protested.

Double Trouble sat up and peered curiously down to the forest floor, searching for the source of this argument. To their surprise, they saw four little kids slowly making their way through the Whispering Woods.

“We’re going on an adventure,” whined the owner of the second voice, who, they realized, was Catra and Adora’s little kitten, Finn. Double Trouble wondered if the play-sword Finn was holding was one of the ones from the toy weapons set they had given them as a gift when they were born. They were particularly proud of that set—they loved being the one to bring the biggest, most expensive present to a party, and here they had certainly succeeded.

Finn hopped over a tree root with ease. “An adventure means you have to be brave, guys. ”

“I’m brave!” said one of the other kids, who they were also able to recognize by the short, poofy purple hair that popped against her dark skin; this was one of the Princesses of Brightmoon. Archie crossed her arms, looking exactly like Glimmer. “I think you don’t know where the castle is.”

Finn huffed. “Finding it is part of the adventure!”

Archie’s twin, who was nearly identical save for her hair, which was just as poofy but bright pink and pulled into two pigtails, clutched her sister’s hand nervously. “The forest is kind of scary,” she whispered.

The fourth kid—Double Trouble didn’t recognize him, but judging by the pale blonde hair, the scorpion tail and claws, and the flower tucked behind his ear, he was clearly one of Scorpia and Perfuma’s brood—took her tiny hand in his. “The forest isn’t scary, Luna,” he said earnestly. “My moms said that things are only scary if you make them that way.”

Finn grinned, triumphant. “And Archie and Luna’s dad says that all you need is your friends! We have each other, so we can do this! Let’s go!”

Archie still looked unconvinced. “Our parents are really busy today. What if we miss something fun?” she asked.

Luna’s eyes widened. “Do you think so?”

Finn poked at the ground with their toy sword. “No! Today is when all the adults do all the boring stuff, and tomorrow is when everyone else gets here and we do the fun stuff. We can spend a whole day in the castle and they won’ even miss us.”

Luna’s lip had begun to tremble. “I wanna go home,” she whimpered. She tugged at the scorpion boy’s hand. “Ol’ander, let’s go home.”

Oleander gave her a hug. “Don’t cry, Luna!” he said. “I’ll tell you a joke Uncle Sea Hawk told me! What does a seagull say to a—No, wait, I forgot it…”

Finn yanked their sword out of the ground and held it up, looking a little like a mini-Adora. “Come on! We’re on an adventure to the magic castle! We’ll be super brave and do super fun things! Then we go home and have dinner! It’ll be fun.”

The other kids exchanged looks. But then Finn tapped Archie on the nose. “Tag!” they shouted. “Race you to the castle!” They turned and ran through the bushes.

Instantly, the group dissolved into laughter. They squealed and shrieked as they chased after Finn, all worries vanishing immediately.

Double Trouble turned back to their script. A little unsupervised excursion was good for kids. Healthy, even. After all, they’d mostly been left to their own devices as a child, and they’d turned out wonderfully! These little children would be fine. And Double Trouble was not exactly tripping over themself to go spend time with a bunch of kiddies anyway.

But then they had an idea. They assumed that the “magic castle” the kids were referring to was the Crystal Castle—also known as a First Ones artifact. It could be the missing piece in the puzzle that was their script! Just one tour around the place and they could learn so much about their character. It was perfect!

Double Trouble transformed into a bird and flew towards the castle. It wasn’t hard to find, being a huge crystal structure in the middle of the wilderness. They landed in front of it and shifted back into their usual form.

The castle itself was shut tight against the outside world, with no obvious signs of entry. They could see a few tiny footprints in the grass near the front of the building, but it was unclear how—or if—the kids had gotten inside. Double Trouble sighed. The life of an actor was one of suffering.

They shifted back into a bird, flying themself to the top of the castle. Maybe they could find an entry point that way. It took some poking and prodding, but they finally managed to find a square of crystal that seemed loose enough to pry off—

The piece they were standing on shattered, sending them crashing through the roof.

Double Trouble stood up, trying to adjust to the dim light. The room was lit with tiny glowing panels along the walls; it was completely empty. They pulled out their notebook, reaching out carefully to touch the wall.

A scream split the air.

Double Trouble whirled around, searching for the source of distress. Then they remembered—the kids.

They quickly sprinted out of the room, not even bothering to transform. Double Trouble may have been a vicious mercenary, but they weren’t nearly heartless enough to let a bunch of five-year-olds die.

They turned a corner, following the sounds of shrieks. The hallways seemed to stretch on endlessly, a twisting, winding maze. After what seemed like an eternity, they came upon the source of the commotion:

A huge, angry spider was advancing on the kids, who were backed into a corner. Separating them and Double Trouble was a gaping, cavernous hole. The only way across was by a narrow, partially eroded pillar that had fallen and landed over the hole.

As the spider clicked it’s pincers, Archie shouted, “Use your magic!”

Luna, who was being clung to by Oleander and her sister, clapped her hands together frantically. “Can’t!” she wailed, tears gushing down her cheeks. “I don’t know how!”

Double Trouble began to make their way across the pillar, moving gingerly to avoid it breaking down even more. They clearly weren’t moving enough; the spider lunged at the kids, and they howled in fear, pressing closer together. All of them shrunk back, until their backs touched the wall.

All of them except Finn, who jumped forward, shielding the other children.

“For the honor of Grayskull!” they screamed, holding out their toy sword with such confidence that for a second, Double Trouble actually expected them to transform into a glowing warrior.

The spider hesitated for the briefest second, and Finn used that opportunity to thrust their sword towards its face. The blade grazed the creature’s skin harmlessly. (Next time, Double Trouble decided, they would get the kid something actually sharp).

Undeterred, Finn hurled the sword at its face as hard as they could. It bounced off its nose, knocking the toy several feet away. The spider made a horrid, grating noise of anger. Fear crossed Finn’s face for the first time.

Luckily, Double Trouble had just reached the end of the plank. They leapt off of it, tackling the spider. It hissed and thrashed under their grip. They used all their might to hurl it against the wall, before jumping off quickly and landing in front of the kids.

“Hi, Mx. Double Trouble!” said Finn cheerfully. Meanwhile, the spider managed to free itself from the wall, shaking its head. It gargled in anger. It was clearly disoriented, but for how much longer?

“Hello, little darlings!” they chirped. “Time to go!” They threw their entire weight against a nearby pillar, causing it to tip and careen into the pillar next to it. The pillars crashed into each other slowly, falling like dominoes.

Double Trouble grabbed Finn and one of the twins by the backs of their shirts and hauled them out of the way. They swept the other two children along with their tail. As the pillars fell, building a wall of stone and rubble between them and the spider, Double Trouble herded the small children out of the room. “Which way to the exit, little explorers?” they asked.

Archie pointed down a hallway. “I think…”

They immediately sprinted in that direction, their little gaggle stumbling after them, all holding each other’s hands.

The group reached a room that looked identical to the others. But Finn said, “This is where the ramp is!” And sure enough, a ramp descended from the ceiling, letting a beam of sunlight from the outside.

They all ran up the ramp and out of the castle. Once they reached the surface, the ramp closed behind them, sealing up the castle once more. The kids all collapsed onto the grass, obviously exhausted and shaking.

Oleander pulled a flower out of the ground and tucked it behind his ear, to replace the one that had fallen out during their mad dash. “We did go on an adventure,” he said, with the optimism that his family was apparently incapable of losing.

Archie poked Finn in the stomach. “How come you didn’ turn into She-Ra like your mommy does?”

Finn frowned, looking annoyed. “I dunno!”

Double Trouble laughed. They patted the kid on the head. “A bunch of scared little children are no match for one of those spiders, even if you’d had She-Ra’s sword. You’re lucky I found you in time, little one.”

Finn’s pout grew bigger. “I wasn’t scared!”

“Sure you weren’t.” They got to their feet, dusting off the grass sticking to their clothes. “Come along, children. Back to Brightmoon we go.”

“This’s one of Mommy and Daddy’s friends,” Luna explained to Oleander in a whisper as they walked. “They visit sometimes and tell Mommy things.”

“What sort of things?” asked Oleander.

“Secrets,” said Double Trouble, and winked. Being the queen’s spy was not their full time job—that would always be the theater, of course—but it was a good way to keep themself entertained in between shows. And they loved sharing the gossip around Etheria, so it worked out very well.

Finn bounced over to Double Trouble’s side. “I wasn’t scared!” they announced. “I was just pretending.”

They snorted. “Well then you’re quite the actor.”

The kid stomped their foot. “I can act! I’m the best at the pretend games we play.”

Double Trouble shook their head sagely. “True acting isn’t just pretending…” they said. They tipped their head back as they transformed, shrinking down and sprouting fur and blond hair that was thicker and lighter than their own. Finn gasped as they came face-to-face with their mirror image.

“…You gotta become your character,” Double Trouble told them, delighting in the look of awe that spread across their face, and the shock that permeated the air around the rest of the group. They lingered in that form for a minute before shifting back.

“That’s not fair,” Finn protested as they continued walking. “Not everyone can do that. You’re cheating.”

“Not cheating, darling—simply utilizing my full potential.” They winked, enjoying the way the kid got increasingly irritated with every word. Meanwhile, the other children chattered on behind them, engaged in their own conversation. Double Trouble made sure to glance back every few seconds, to make sure no other creatures had attempted to sweep them away.

Finn crossed their arms determinedly. “I can’t do that, but I can act!”

“Oh? Prove it then, why don’t you?”

Finn cocked their head, standing up straighter. Their eyes widened just slightly, their tail curling in a motion that was decidedly uncat-like. They put their right hand on their hip, which jutted out slightly, and they used their left hand to examine their nails, an air of aloofness eminenting from the young child. “Hello, little darling,” they hissed at Double Trouble.

Double Trouble gasped. That was an almost perfect imitation of their voice and mannerisms! The kid was a natural. “Well played, little one. I’m sure your mothers will love to see you reenact this dramatic tale—”

The kids all gasped in unison. “Don’t tell our parents!” Archie begged.

Double Trouble raised an eyebrow. “Are we, perhaps, going to be yelled at when we return, children?”

“Not yelled at,” said Finn. “My moms don’t yell! They say we have to use our nice words when we’re upset.”

“But…” Luna trailed off, biting her lip.

“But?” Double Trouble prompted.

“But…our parents don’t know we’re not at Brightmoon,” Oleander confessed, looking down at the ground.

“We snuck out,” Archie chimed in. “It was Finn’s idea!”

“Was not!” Finn snapped, scuffing the dirt with their feet. “You all wanted to go on an adventure! Besides, everyone’s super busy with that whole ann-verse-ree thing tomorrow.”

Ah, the yearly anniversary of the defeat of Horde Prime. It was quite a big celebration that was hosted at Brightmoon, and Double Trouble could easily see how the kids could feel ignored during the hustle and bustle of the preparations. They knew how it felt to not be the center of attention, after all.

“And,” Oleander added, a pout on his face, “my sisters won’t let us play iceball with them.”

“They said we’re too young!” Archie said indignantly. “Melody and Hope are only three years older than us!”

“Please don’t tell our parents!” Finn pleaded, putting on their sweetest face. “My moms will be so worried . They don’t let me do anything fun already. Uncle Sea Hawk was gonna show us how’t ride a flaming boat and my moms said no!”

“Gee, little one, I wonder why.”

Archie stared at them, a surprisingly calculated look on her baby face. “Aren’t you going to get in trouble, too?” she asked.

Double Trouble blinked. “Pardon?”

“No one’s s’posed to go in the castle,” Archie said, slowly. “Adora says it’s dangerous and no one’s allowed in it. Doesn’t that mean you too?”

Finn picked up on where she was going with this. “If you don’t tell on us, we won’t tell on you!” they said. “Then Glimmer won’t be mad at you.”

Double Trouble stared at the two of them incredulously. “Are you… manipulating me into deceiving your parents for your own gain?”

“I don’t know what that means,” said Finn, “but yes!”

They gave a dramatic sigh. “Alright, children, you win.”

——

Glimmer crossed her arms, glaring down at them. “Where in the world have you four been all afternoon?”

Archie blinked up at her innocently. “Playing hide ‘n’ seek right here in the gardens.”

“I won!” chirped Luna.

“I almost won,” added Oleander.

“And why didn’t you come out when we were calling for you?” Bow asked.

“Uh, ‘cause we were hiding?” Finn pointed out, with a lot of cockiness for a five-year-old.

“Riiiiiight,” said Catra, staring down at her child with a hefty amount of skepticism. “And none of Oleander’s sisters saw you guys playing, despite them also being in the gardens? What’s the reason for that, kiddo?”

Finn blanched. Perfuma knelt down in front of the kids. “You can tell us where you’ve really been, sweet ones,” she promised. “We just want your honesty.”

“We were!” insisted Finn. “We have proof! Swift Wind!”

That was their cue. Double Trouble huffed, feeling utterly humiliated at having to play the talking horse. But it wasn’t the worse role they’d had to play—being a Horde clone had been completely abhorrent.

“Did someone say… Swift Wind!” they shouted as they trotted out of the bush. At least the horse shared their passion for theatrics.

Adora perked up. “Hey, Swiftie,” she said. “Have you been playing hide-and-seek with the kids this afternoon?” It was obvious that she was not the disciplinarian.

“Indeed I have,” Double Trouble proclaimed, lifting one hoof for emphasis. “And they’re quite the good hiders, too! Isn’t that right!” They nudged Finn lightly. The kid nudged them back.

“I had the best hiding spot, Mommy!” they told Adora.

Scorpia relaxed. “Alright, we believe you!” If anyone was less thrilled than Adora about having to be the bad guy, it was her. She scooped the children up in her arms, squeezing them tightly as they giggled, squirming around in her hug. “Next time, add a rule that makes it okay to come out of your hiding spots when we call you for ice cream.”

They all perked up. “Is there still ice cream left?” Luna asked.

“You betcha!”

Adora smiled. “Come on, let’s go inside and get some,” she said. The group turned and started heading towards the castle door. The events of the day clearly hadn’t left any lasting trauma on the children—they were as bouncy and bubbly as ever, asking the adults a million questions about the anniversary celebration and the desserts they’d be serving. It was kind of cute, Double Trouble admitted. They watched Catra fondly adjust the red scarf tied around Finn’s neck, as they babbled on without taking a breath.

Adora was the last to leave. She paused, looked over her shoulder. “And for future reference, Double Trouble,” she said, a gleam in her eye, “next time, choose someone to impersonate that I don’t have a sacred magical connection with.” Then she followed after the rest of her family, leaving them gaping.

But Double Trouble wasn’t even miffed at being found out. Because they’d discovered something extraordinary—an actor with talent that could one day rival theirs. They had finally found a protégé!

#she ra #double trouble #finn #catradora #scorfuma #glimbow #spop #she ra fankids #she ra ocs #catra #adora #scorpia #perfuma #glimmer #bow #she ra fanfic #soph.txt

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