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lotornomiko · 4 years

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The Ones Left Behind Chapter Four (Not Safe For Work)

At long last, after many years, chapter four of my Catra Adora fanfic is here. Not safe for work, Adora POV, sorry it’s short. You can read the other three exisitng chapters over here at archive of our own (NOT SAFE FOR WORK AND HEED THE WARNING TAGS!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3952798/chapters/8862691

My mind is unable to truly rest, so wound up tight with thoughts and suspicions, and even old familiar anxieties where the Horde was concerned. That we have not seen a single sign of even one of their rank, does nothing to soothe, this restless night without end, and plagued with many a doubt and even an insecurity or two. I’m wound up so tight by them, that not even this past eve’s vigorous workout, exhausting though it had proven to be, and on so many levels, could usher me into the escape I so truly needed.

I was running on reserves that were dwindling ever closer to empty, yet pumped high on the anticipation of what the coming days would bring. Since arriving at this port town, at the far eastern edge of the kingdom of Mystacor, my body and my mind have been on high alert. Always waiting, always ready, it was almost a disappointment to not have the Horde appear. I couldn’t trust in this temporary peace though, not when I know the Horde better than anyone else in the Great Rebellion could lay claim to. For almost the entirety of my twenty one years, I have lived, breathed and actively partaken in the Horde way of life. That brutal conquest, the never ending wars, and the millions upon millions hurt, even killed. Tortured for the one thing they had all wanted, the one thing that the Horde itself would never truly be able to abide.

Peace.

The dream of many, that intangible thing, a state of being so against the Horde’s way. Chaos is what they embraced, strife and devastation the likes of which no other warring caste has ever known, or surpassed. Their is the total sum of despair, a nightmare made real, greed, cruelty, and an almost maddening lust for the hurt that they could and did so often inflict, no one had been safe. Not man, not woman, not child. In the vast empire that Hordak and many others like him, had help build for Horde Prime, might has been the only right of it, trillions of the meek trampled, tortured, and otherwise killed, it had been an eat or be eaten kind of lawlessness that didn’t just cater to the wicked, it gave rise to them.

All manner of vile creature is drawn to the Horde. Everything from bullies and thieves, to murderers and rapists, all clawing over everything, even each other, to try and achieve the ultimate award. That of the title of Force Captain. It’s been all manner of scum, and no matter the origin story, they—we, had shared all of one thing in common. That of being the worst of our kind.

I shudder each and every time I think on it, on what it had meant to be a Force Captain. Practically birthed into the life, taken from my true home and family just days into my newborn existence, I couldn’t, wouldn’t make excuses. I didn’t care that I had been drugged, trained, even had my mind tampered with through magic, the blood of many was on my hands. Good and bad both, it hadn’t mattered, my position as Hordak’s adoptive daughter, making me thirst harder and act crueler in an attempt to prove myself worthy. I don’t even know for sure if the pride I had taken in my accomplishments was another part of Shadow Weaver’s manipulations, but the shame and regret I suffer with now is all too real.

It borders on pain, those very real feelings of guilt, and the knowledge that I will never be able to do enough to atone for my sins of the past. I keep on trying though, throwing myself into the rebellion as Adora and She-ra both, Etheria is just the first of the many planets I will need to help set free from the Horde’s evil. It is a forgiveness I won’t be able to give myself otherwise, no matter the truth of my circumstance, the little baby that I had been, finally growing into the woman I am now, and not that hateful witch that I had been groomed to be through magic and manipulation and an overwhelming desire to please.

That desire is an ingrain part of me, that need warping from trying to prove myself to Hordak, to instead the people of the Rebellion and Etheria in particular. That want I have, that urge to please, is as unsettling as it is real, leaving me to wonder just how much of my personality still remains shaped by my experiences as part of the Horde. It’s never easy to confront such a truth, for though there are parts of me that bear little resemblance to the woman I had once been, there are others, habits if you will, that remain the same. That insatiable lust that sends me from partner to partner, and always they are found lacking in some way or another, through no real fault of their own.

They are not enough. No one may ever be enough. It doesn’t matter the gender, or the color of their hair, or how considerate a lover they might be, I am left yearning for the forbidden. For that one thing, that could make a mockery of all I try to accomplish NOW. It’s not the soft, gentle romance, nor is it the outright cruelty of rape, it’s a brand of passion all its own, a lover whose memory won’t let me forget, her existence taunting me with what else might have been real amid Shadow Weaver’s mental maneuvering.

That I hold this obsession still, that those particular memories are still so dear, make a part of me doubt just who I am. What I am. They mock me, whispering words whose accusations make me wonder how much of it had been brainwashing magic and drugs, and how much of that had truly been ME. Just what, who, is the real face of Adora? The Force Captain, or the rebel? Or am I an amalgam of the two? I tell myself I don’t know, but deep down it is a truth that I fear has already been answered.

It haunts me, colors every real choice that I now make. From the war that I struggle to end daily, to the lives that I affect, to even the lover that is currently in my bed, it is all me spiraling about in a tight bid for control. Trying to deny what is the real truth, and the who that I am missing. The woman I had left behind. There’s a guilt there, what she, what Catra, represents, a great many things that I have never wanted to face. That I still don’t, running in the only way that I know how, throwing myself into the art of vigorously arousing the night’s latest conquest.

The tavern wench from earlier, with her hair so dark a blue it is almost black, with sharp boned cheeks and a stubborn set of her lips, in this dim lighting, could almost pass. She doesn’t purr like Catra does, doesn’t curl claws over flesh in a way that borders between pleasure and pain. Her honey isn’t the same, lacking that sweet spice that marks my former lover, as so uniquely her own. She’s everything that the Force Captain isn’t, all kindness and light, and carefully restrained passion. She doesn’t make it hurt in that wild way that feels oh so good, like a whip breaking skin, her cries nothing like the pleasured screams I am longing for.

It makes me angry, makes me try harder to get this woman to drop the reserved act, and go crazy. I bury my face between her thighs, feel the wet proof of her arousal on my tongue, lips and chin, and still she does little more than lay there, muffling her moans, and biting at her lip. I bite, nibble and suck in turn, roll my tongue over and around her engorged clit. I even catch at it with my teeth, giving a tug that nearly arches the tavern wench right up off the bed. If I’m not careful, I will hurt her with my anger, with the frustration that I feel. I battle her body, as much as my mind, tongue laving in bold purposeful strokes, focusing on soothing the sting of my teeth, and the blow to my wounded pride.

It is unfair to compare them, the memory nothing like my reality, and yet I do it all the same. My nails dig into her bottom, any harder and I will draw blood. I tease and torture this woman, not with violence, but with an angry pleasure, every whimper and muffled squeal only fueling my frustration. I can’t get her to outright scream, to do that howling kind of satisfaction that Catra was so good at voicing. It’s not the wild cat in my bed, but some kind of kitten, cute to look at, and tame, but holding none of the feral passion and danger that rutting with a beast would bring.

I want so much more, want to feel nails digging into me, teeth biting at me, hands pulling at my flesh and my hair. I want to bleed, and I want to hurt, that masochistic sadism a euphoric rush like no other. I truly am broken, caught between the desires that my past has well established, and the image I’ve worked so hard to cultivate now, if this wench knew of how hard and how fierce I wanted the sex to go, she’d try to run screaming from this room.

The resentment inside me, I bring her crashing over the edge with not just my tongue, but fingers as well. With the plunge of them deep, curling and then scissoring apart, caressing over soaked flesh that positively gushes over, there’s a sudden touch in my hair, a gentle petting that is also too reminiscent of the woman I had loved and left behind. Catra for all her lustful violence, had had some gentleness to her. Always appreciative of a good fuck, my wild cat had also been one hell of a cuddler. It was the feline in her, fickle one second, attentive and demanding the next, she had loved nothing more than to curl around me and purr while roaming her hands over my curves.

“A...Adora?” That uncertain tone, cause an unsteady blink of my eyes. That shy expression, the awe on her face, is so decidedly what I DON’T want, that I am pulling away, as though hit with a blast of icy cold waters.

“We should get some sleep.” I tell her, already rolling off to the side of her. I can feel the hesitation in her, the uncertain energy even before she asks.

“But what about...”

“I’m fine.” I insist curtly. “Got an early rise in the morning...we should both get some sleep...”

There’s still that hesitation felt, but she makes no other attempt, as though accepting my decision. A certain wild cat would never have settled for anything less, Catra always the type to give to me, as well as take. I hold in my sigh, and insist to my mind, that I am not missing it, missing HER. It’s a lie I tell myself every night, every encounter, trying to deny that there HAD been one good thing, twisted though it had been, about my time with the Horde.

I cast it, her, aside, denying that one part of my past, that had been true.

To Be Continued…

I have been stuck for years on how to get this chapter written...I debated on and off over having Adora get it on with the tavern wench or not...I still feel unsure about the end result. But I wanted to make the effort, especially since there are other scene sin my notes, I was looking forward to writing out someday….

I haven’t seen season five of Netflix yet, cause I just canceled my membership and then like a week later, they announce season five. ARGH! I’ll probably be restarting it for June...or July...I am spoiled on certain aspects of it, cause of I went looking for Utena on you tube, and someone did a comparison scene of Utena and Anthy versus Catra Adora….so yeah, I am spoiled on what happens with them at least, and it’s partly why I got motivated to try and force this chapter out. In celebration of my ship becoming cannon! XD

I also tweaked the existing chapters, in that I tried to fix some little bits here and there, just mainly sentence structure, or word placement. If you follow me in my other fandoms, you’ll already know, I am never happy with my writing, and constantly trying to fix and improve it…

So I went over the first three chapters, though I didn’t think I’d get over my block...and I know this is a short chapter...but I’m trying here...really am. I debated skipping this content, and getting them right to the planet Argo….though that would have felt like cheating, or taking too big a short cut, and I don’t like doing that with my writing either. XD

I have no idea who will be the POV for five. Leaning towards Adora though, and having the representatives from Argo arrive!

It’s also my birthday today! (May 23, 2020)

----Michelle

#she-ra #fanfic #fanfiction #catra #adora #catra x adora #the ones left behind

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