#she fell in love again when she learned what the colors in Catra eyes really looked like

[horde-princess]

Death With Dignity

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Catra reflects on her redemption and the sacrifices of angella and shadow weaver (and kisses her girlfriend 😌😌). Inspired in a major way by @catradora‘s beautiful illustration of catra gazing up at a mural of angella 💘

--

1. monarch

Bells echoed quietly through the halls of the Bright Moon palace. It was four in the morning and Adora’s arm was draped protectively over Catra, her chest rising and falling against her back, heartbeat slow. If they were back in the Horde, the rhythm of it would’ve been fluttery and anxious. But in recent weeks an era of peace had settled over Etheria, and maybe especially over its destined hero. Her calling fulfilled, her new life beginning… Sometimes Catra let herself dream of it, too. Finding peace.

read on ao3

She quietly slipped out of Adora’s arms, careful not to wake her. She’d had a lot of practice the past couple of weeks, which should probably worry her, but if there was something bothering Catra she couldn’t bring herself to admit it... too afraid of watching Adora’s love shatter in her hands like a fragile glass illusion that was never really hers.

Adora stirred in her sleep and her fist hit Catra’s pillow before she relaxed again. Catra flinched. It was hard to look away from her, a living mosaic of everything she found terrifying and breathtaking. The way the moonlight kissed her skin, the curve of her shoulder. When tears blurred her vision enough that she could barely make out the form of her anymore, Catra turned to leave. 

Walking the halls at night, she found an intimacy with Bright Moon that evaded her during the day. The bright colors were dimmed in shadow, there were no curious faces--or suspicious ones. Just the same few guards who had gotten used to her nighttime wanderings. While the palace was full of beautiful paintings and murals like nothing Catra had ever seen, there was one in particular that she kept coming back to every night. She stood before it and gazed up in child-like wonder.

Queen Angella… The former ruler of Bright Moon--or, as Catra knew her, the Horde’s number one enemy--loomed above, a masterful work of art set with colorful stones, gems, painted glass. Occasionally, light from the torches would refract through it a certain way and almost make her seem to come alive. Wings glittered as though moving in a breeze, giving her a divine essence. The larger than life depiction did little to discourage the way Catra had mythologized her in her mind. 

A mother, a warrior, an immortal queen… and the reason Catra found herself gazing into soft blue eyes every morning. 

“Beautiful, isn’t she?”

A voice from down the hall tore Catra from her thoughts and set her heart racing. She automatically assumed a soldier’s stance, the way she was taught to show respect in the Horde.

“King Micah?--” Her breath caught in her throat. 

It had been two weeks since Micah had learned the truth about Angella’s sacrifice. She hadn’t dared ask for forgiveness. Not even as the days passed and Catra wasn’t able to eat, or sleep, or be of much use to anyone, really. Glimmer kept saying he just needed time. 

Micah approached slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on the mural. He was dressed all in white, the traditional Etherian color for mourning, which drew attention to his sunken cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes. He came to stand beside Catra, who watched him warily before also returning her gaze to Angella. She could hear her own pulse in her ears.

“Just Micah, now,” he corrected after a moment. “My days of ruling have long ended.”

His voice was gravelly, tired. Catra guessed he wasn’t sleeping much either.

“Y-yes, sir.”

They settled into an uncomfortable silence as the queen looked down upon them, in all her dignity.

“I’ll admit…” Micah cleared his throat. “When Glimmer told me what happened, I… Well, I’m sorry. For the way that I reacted.”

A wave of nausea swept over Catra. She clenched her fists, feeling mortified.

“No. I deserved it.”

She could feel Micah’s eyes on her but kept looking straight ahead.

“Did you ever meet her?” he asked.

Catra tried to think, sorting through a dusty bookshelf of painful memories.

“I… I saw her once,” she whispered. “During the Battle of Bright Moon, she was… defending the Moonstone. But not really, no.”

Micah nodded thoughtfully, then smiled. 

“And she always said I was the brave one.”

Mesmerized by the artwork, memories continued to pull at Catra… Glimmer breaking down in tears, Adora and Bow’s restrained anger when they asked Catra to leave. The three of them sharing stories about what a loving mother Angella was, what a strong leader. Adora hugging herself as she relayed the details of what exactly happened in the portal that day. How Angella sacrificed herself to save everyone.

How she sacrificed herself to save Adora.

To save her from... Catra. 

From her own monstrous, vile, misplaced wrath.

Catra realized tears were streaming down her face. 

Too overwhelmed with shame to stand any longer under the queen’s scrutiny, she fell to her knees, as if in supplication. She barely registered Micah’s concerned hand on her shoulder. 

“I--I owe her everything,” Catra wept. “I can’t make up for it, I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry…”

Before she knew what was happening Micah had knelt down and wrapped his arms around her and she was falling apart, shaking like a child. She didn’t know how long she cried but at the end of it his white gown was washed completely by her tears.

“You’re forgiven, Catra,” he murmured into her hair, and she could only shake her head, trying to hold back another sob. 

“Why do you even care about me?”

Micah sighed. “The same reason my daughter does: you’re trying to make things right.”

He leaned back to gently rest his hand on Catra’s cheek, encouraging her to meet his eyes. The kindness in them was terrible, burning.

“And wherever she is, I know that Angella forgives you, too.”

Somehow, Catra actually believed him. Not because she could ever be worthy of it, but... because it's who Angella was. 

Micah offered her his hand. She hesitated, then accepted it. He pulled her to her feet and they continued to study the artwork together, side by side. Catra felt like she could stare at it for hours. Truthfully, she had.

“I wish I could’ve known her,” she confessed. “Everyone tells me how kind she was. And giving. Nothing like--”

Catra wasn’t sure where she was going with that train of thought. 

“Like Shadow Weaver?” Micah guessed.

The name was like rusty nails scraping out Catra’s insides. She didn’t say anything more. But Micah placed a hand on Catra’s shoulder and she felt some kind of unspoken understanding pass between them.

“Let’s take the day off tomorrow,” he said suddenly, a mischievous lilt to his voice.

Catra squinted at him, though it was a relief to see his cheerful demeanor returning.

 “What? We have the reparations meeting--”

“I need a break from this political stuff,” Micah complained. "Whaddya say, be my partner in crime? Besides, you’re the only one who can translate for Melog--I’ve been dying to ask how they manipulate light waves with magic to--”

“Okay, okay! Fine,” Catra chuckled. “I guess… It could be nice to take a break from everyone.”

“That’s the spirit!” He mussed up her hair a little. “I’ll make a rebel out of you yet.” 

Oh, man. Between Micah, George, Lance… Dads really were all the same. 

“Now why don’t you get some rest, kiddo.”

He said it so gently, and Catra couldn't believe it. How far down into her darkness the light of one person’s forgiveness could reach. 

“King--I mean, Micah… Thank you. For everything.”

Micah smiled fondly.

“You’re welcome.”

She glanced up at Angella one last time and could’ve sworn she saw a smile reflected in the stones.

Catra started to head back to her room, but something stopped her just after she turned the corner. She peeked around it and watched Micah step up to the mural of his wife. 

He touched his forehead to the wall and let out a long, heavy sigh.

“I miss you, my love.”

--

When Catra returned to Adora’s arms, exhaustion nearly overtook her for the first time in weeks, but she fought it and stayed awake all night just to listen to the sound of her breathing.

2. mother

It was strange, being back in Mystacor. The place held nothing but terrifying memories. 

Catra, she… distracts you. Confuses you. Haven’t you hurt each other enough?

Shadow Weaver is sacrificing you! Why can’t you see that?!

It doesn’t always have to be you!

Catra stood from the table abruptly. The other dinner guests stared at her with alarm and Adora met her eyes from across the hall.

“Are you okay?” she mouthed. 

Catra plastered on a smile to address the room.

“Sorry!--I just... remembered something, you’ll have to excuse me.”

She rushed out of the banquet hall and leaned against the wall outside, heart pounding. She forced herself to take a deep breath in. Then out. In, out. Huh. Maybe Perfuma wasn’t as crazy as she thought. They’d been away from home for a couple weeks, traveling and attending parties and helping rebuild kingdoms. It wasn’t that Catra wasn’t enjoying herself, it’s just that she hadn’t had much time to process… well, everything.

She peered down the long corridor, thinking a walk might help clear her head--and that’s when she saw it.

The statue.

The likeness was so uncanny it sent her into fight or flight mode. But Catra had decided a while ago that she was done running.

Her footsteps echoed in the cavernous silence until she stood directly in front of it. The marble glistened in the warm moonlight streaming in through the windows, and it stood tall among its peers in the Hall of Sorcerers--prideful, stoic, severe, and far too much like the woman Catra had once known. A shiver ran down her spine and she struggled for breath as though the air near the statue was thin, all the oxygen around it sucked out. Lifeless eyes stared forward, her gaze passing indifferently over Catra’s head.

I’m so proud of you, Catra.

Her hands were shaking and she clenched them into fists. Blood trickled from her palms to the floor. She shut her eyes but couldn’t suppress it, the rage, the disgust, it burst out of her from some dark and emaciated fragment of her heart--

“I hate you! I will never forgive you!”

The threat fell on ears of stone. Her body slackened. Lips quivering, tasting metal, her voice shook with anger.

“I don’t care if you helped save her... I will never forgive you.”

It was the one thing Catra held over her, the one birthright she’d ever possessed--to deny her absolution. Even in death. 

Especially in death.

At least you admit she’s evil.

You’re one to talk, aren’t you?

Catra gripped her head in her hands, trying to force the memory out, trying not to scream. But wasn’t there truth in it? Wasn’t she a hypocrite? How could she accept others’ forgiveness yet withhold her own? 

You expect me to believe you had a change of heart in the end?! Catra wanted to scream at her. That you actually cared if we survived? If I survived?

She glared up at the statue’s face, the veil concealing her mouth.

ANSWER ME!

“Catra?” 

All the fire drained out of her when she heard Adora call her name. 

Hurried footsteps, then hands grabbing at her shoulders, her wrists.

“Catra!--What--You’re bleeding--”

Catra collapsed against her, sinking into the warmth of Adora’s embrace. Her chest burned but she had no tears left. Not for her. She could only gasp breathlessly against Adora’s shoulder.

“Shh, I’m here, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“It’s not fair,” was all she could get out. “It’s not fair!”

--

“You know, it used to be all dirty. Scratched up.”

Catra hummed, more focused on Adora playing with her fingers than on her words. They sat against the wall opposite the statue. Her skin was stained red from the blood on Catra’s hands. 

“I guess Castaspella had it refurbished, after... well.”

“She should’ve thrown it out the window,” Catra said through gritted teeth. “Less effort.”

She could hear the disagreement in Adora’s responding sigh but she didn’t say anything.

“What? You think she deserves to be honored?” she snapped.

“No! Of course not. But... if it wasn’t for her…”

Catra pulled her hand away and rose to her feet. Adora followed after her.

“One good thing doesn’t make up for her ruining our lives!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Adora exclaimed. “I watched her hurt you over and over and couldn’t do anything about it!”

Catra started, her anger dissipating as quickly as it had come. She felt like she was a kid again, back in the Fright Zone, terrified and insecure and every stupid thing that ever happened to her was Adora’s fault, except it wasn’t. Not at all. 

She knew Shadow Weaver had hurt Adora, too. They’d talked about it a lot. Why she was always chasing some destiny and throwing herself into danger with no hesitation. But Catra hadn’t told her everything from her perspective, not yet.

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Catra mumbled, feeling contrite for some reason.

Adora’s eyes filled with torment and a darkness Catra hadn’t known she was capable of.

She reached out for her hesitantly and when Adora didn’t back away Catra drew her close and cradled her face with both hands.

“Hey. I love you,” she said softly.

Adora hung her head and squeezed her eyes shut but the tears leaked out anyway.

Running her thumbs along her cheeks to dry them, Catra brushed her mouth tenderly over Adora’s forehead. Steady arms slipped around her waist and held onto her tightly and Adora tilted her face back up, hopeless, longing. Catra felt something almost holy running in her veins as their lips met and Adora’s kiss was warm, slow--too slow, making Catra’s temperature rise, and she didn’t know how long she could hide the truth of how desperate she was for her. But then a gentle glow behind her eyelids turned blinding and suddenly an explosive crack echoed down the hall. 

Catra jumped and opened her eyes to see both of them enveloped in magic.

“...Whoa,” she breathed, slightly lightheaded.

Adora was staring up at the statue in shock and she followed her gaze. As the dust settled, Catra saw the veil hiding its face had been violently ripped off, leaving nothing behind except vacant eyes and splintering cracks in the stone that ran from her hairline to her jaw. 

They stood together in silence, Catra hanging with a hand on Adora’s shoulder.

Light Spinner, whoever she was, had been mangled, torn away… This was the woman who had raised them. The weaver of their shadows. 

Catra coughed a little from the dust and laced her fingers with Adora’s again.

“Not sure Castaspella will like your remodel,” she tried to joke.

“Who cares,” Adora muttered. “Shadow Weaver chose her path. She wanted to be a hero... but she won’t be remembered as one.”

The set of her jaw was rigid, resolute.

“You can’t forgive her either, can you?”

“No. I--I don’t know. One day, maybe.”

One day seemed like a lofty goal to Catra. The unspeakable suffering she’d inflicted on her, on both of them... yet she always had some twisted justification. As if she believed her intentions were good.

I just wanted to prepare you for the world. I wanted you to be strong.

Tears filled Catra’s eyes as she observed the damaged sculpture, but they didn’t fall. 

“Before she died… She said she was proud of me.”

She sensed Adora looking at her, analyzing. Like she was trying to decide how to respond. Catra could guess what was going through her head. I'm proud of you. You should be proud of yourself.

“For what?” she settled on instead.

“Who knows.” Catra thought for a moment. “For not ending up like her, probably.”

Adora brushed her hair back from her forehead. Her hand trailed down her neck and came to rest over her heart.

“You were never like her.”

“Come on, Adora,” Catra nearly begged. “The things I’ve done, I was so angry...”

“Because you were hurting--because you cared, so much, and people just threw it away, I--” she stopped, misery etched on her face. Catra looked down, wincing. “But Shadow Weaver? She was just selfish. How could there have been room in her heart for anyone when she took up so much space herself.”

Catra let out a shaky breath. This day, this whole trip had been so draining. She leaned into Adora for support who wrapped an arm around her.

“If she hadn’t teleported me to the Heart...” her voice fell to a whisper. “I would’ve lost you forever.”

“I know... When I heard you scream, fighting that monster…”

Catra shivered from the memory. 

The sculpture towered over them, unhearing, uncaring. 

“Adora?”

“Hm?”

“Do you... Do you think the only reason she went back to save me was to make sure you set the magic free?”

Adora frowned like she had already thought about it.

“I think… I want to believe… there was some part of her that wanted us both to be happy.”

The image flickered in her mind of Shadow Weaver removing her mask, allowing them a glimpse of her face for the first time since they were kids. Her scars, her sins laid bare for them to see.

It’s too late for me. But you… this is only the beginning for you.

Catra gazed upon the marred face of her abuser, her mentor--her mother, for all  intents and purposes, though she couldn’t bring herself to actually associate her with the word--and something restful settled in her heart. Not peace, not exactly. Just a sense of calm.

Because her and Adora, they were finally free.

She held Adora closer and nuzzled her ear.

“Well, whatever she wanted from us… it doesn’t matter. We get to write our own happy ending now.”

A smile blossomed across Adora’s face. 

“You think you’re my happy ending, huh?”

“Whatever,” Catra scoffed. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t come back from the dead just to kiss me.”

She grinned and started to lean in, but Adora pushed her off with a groan.

“Are you ever gonna let it go? That was one time!”

“And for some reason, it’s always funny--”

Adora cut her off with a kiss and yeah, Catra had the feeling that everything was going to be okay. She laughed breathlessly and leaned her forehead against Adora’s.

“Can we go home now?” she pleaded.

“Ugh, I thought you’d never ask.”

#bc i had too many feelings after season 5 😭😭 #she ra #catradora #angella #yes i did listen to sufjan stevens while writing this.. the song from the title and wallowa lake monster were on repeat #the lyrics ''she gave us one last feature; the fullness of her face'' rly get to me... #also praying by kesha #ALWAYS praying by kesha #my-fics

[spacebatisluvd]

Summary: Bow puts the pieces together while the women hash things out.

Content Warning: Speciesism referenced. Mermista is being kind of a dick, but she brings up valid points from the canon. References to the war and everybody’s past actions, allusions to Prime and his slave army (and we are calling it just that—a slave army). Generally just lancing old wounds so everyone can begin to heal.

@cruelfeline Have some tea at hand. ^_^

-

Bow stood outside the yurt’s closed tent flap, distressed by Entrapta’s words.

They’d been better to her than Hordak had been, right? He was, well, Hordak. How could he have possibly been a better friend to her than them...? Sure, maybe they could have handled things a little better—he still winced, remembering his ‘inspiring’ speech to her on Beast Island—but Hordak couldn’t have possibly done better than they had. Right?

Behind him, he could hear the others arguing.

“Geeze, Mermista. ‘He’s not even Etherian’? What’s that supposed to mean?” Adora said.

“He’s not, is he? Why would he care about rebuilding if this isn’t even his planet?”

“I’m not Etherian either—I came through a portal, and Hordak picked me up. Do you think I have less of a stake in rebuilding than you guys do?”

“That’s different.”

“How is it different?”

“You didn’t try to conquer the world once you got here!”

Bow frowned. They had left her to the mercies of the Horde—accidentally, of course, but…couldn’t they have at least double checked to make sure she was really gone? And, when they learned that she’d switched sides, shouldn’t they have tried a little harder to get her back? They’d never really considered why she’d switched sides had they? They’d never stopped to wonder what the Horde had to offer that they didn’t—they’d just assumed that she was swayed by their tech and Hordak’s research, but now…. Sure, she’d seemed impressed that he called his lab a ‘sanctum’, but Bow was beginning to think there was more to it than that.

“Okay, yeah, maybe Adora didn’t—but I did. You don’t seem to have a problem with me,” Catra said.

“It’s not the same. You were high up in the Horde for—what? A couple years? Besides, you, like, did it because you were mad at Adora or whatever.”

“Why does that make it better?”

“Love makes you crazy. Everyone knows that. Why do you think I put up with Sea Hawk?”

Bow studied the ground in front of him. They’d visited her during the portal incident. Hadn’t she said something about Hordak then? She’d definitely said something about him on Beast Island. She’d called him her lab partner. And the way she’d said his name....

Bow’s eyes widened.

“But my love, my dearest, my darling—” Mermista groaned at the litany of nicknames. “—he is trying! He’s been nothing but dedicated since he came to Salineas. Even the construction crew likes him!”

“So? What’s that got to do with anything? Maybe he’s just good at manipulating people.”

Catra laughed. “Hordak? He’s good at standing in the shadows and looking creepy, but other than that? He’s just a tech nerd. I don’t even think he knows how to lie—" Catra fell suddenly silent. “Oh. The hivemind. He…he really can’t….“

The rest of the pieces were rapidly clicking into place now. When they freed Kadroh, she’d been looking for Hordak, hadn’t she? The name ‘Wrong Hordak’ suddenly made a lot more sense. And the way she’d flung herself at him after Adora exorcised Prime from his body? Bow had always thought that was strange, but had dismissed it as Entrapta being, well, Entrapta. And what had she said just now? She’d called him a friend, but she’d said her ‘feelings‘ weren’t clouding her judgment.

“Don’t even. I don’t care if he was part of Prime’s creepy slave army. He wasn’t a slave when he was here on his own! Am I really the only one that remembers what he did? He burned Salineas to the ground. He’s the reason Glimmer grew up without a dad. He’s the reason Shadow Weaver was there to hook her claws into you two. He’s the reason Scorpia’s kingdom is a wasteland. He’s the one that brought Prime here! He’s the reason Glimmer was taken. He’s the reason we were chipped! Don’t any of you remember that? Scorpia, he chipped you too; why am I the only one that cares about that!?”

She cut herself off, and Bow turned just in time to see her use the heel of her hand to wipe her eyes. The others stayed silent, but Scorpia raised a hesitant claw. “I lost friends and family in the war too, but I don’t blame you guys for that. Or your parents. It’s not as if Hordak brought war to Etheria—we had plenty of that before he got here. Heck, Grandad’s the one that started it, not him. We needed his tech, and he needed soldiers. It was ugly, yeah, and…probably shouldn’t have gone on as long as it did, but it’s not like it’s all his fault. As for the chips, that was Prime. Hordak didn’t do that. Even when he was leading the Horde, he never did anything like that.”

“Yeah,” Catra said, “Even at his worst, Hordak was nothing like Prime. Not even close.”

Adora stepped close and held a hand out to Mermista. “When he first landed here, he wasn’t really free. He was still trying to go back to Prime.”

“And no one in their right mind would want go back to that,” Catra muttered, the fur along her tail puffing up.

“Right. The war was bad, but we all did things that we regret. He deserves a second chance, now that he’s actually free. If I thought he was going to abuse that chance, I’d agree with you, but I really think he wants to put the past behind him. He can finally be his own person, not the person Prime forced him to be. It wouldn’t be right to keep him from that. Especially when we’ve offered a second chance to others.”

“Or a third,” Catra muttered, arms crossed and eyes averted.

Mermista looked at Adora’s extended hand, but didn’t take it. She didn’t offer any further argument, though, and her eyes seemed wide and over-bright. Hesitantly, Bow raised a hand. “There’s something else.” His cheeks puffed out as he exhaled hard and said, in a rush, “I think Entrapta loves him.” He waited for their reaction, but only Glimmer and Perfuma looked at all surprised. Mermista didn’t react at all, and Sea Hawk looked almost giddy, but the others.... Maybe they hadn’t heard him? “I said—“

“We know,” Catra said, “Did you only figure that out just now?”

“Uh. Well....”

Catra sighed. “That’s not news. They’ve been dancing around each other forever.“

Scorpia nodded sagely. “Oh, yeah. Entrapta is head over heels. ‘Hordak’ is one of her special interests. Right up there with tech. And space. Actually...I think maybe she was interested in space because of Hordak...? It’s hard to tell.”

“Oh. Well. Alright then.” Bow tried not to be personally offended that he was, apparently, the last to know. “That still leaves us with something else to think about—if Entrapta loves him, we’ll push her away if we don’t at least give him a chance.”

Scorpia nodded, smiling, and Sea Hawk was nearly vibrating with some pent-up emotion. Mermista, still caught up in her thoughts, didn’t react, but Perfuma frowned. “Should we be concerned about their relationship? We know he has a temper. Is it possible he might hurt her? Perhaps it might be better to separate them...?”

Catra snorted. “He’s not gonna hurt her. He might break stuff when he’s mad, but he only ever really went after me once, and I’ve done plenty to piss him off.”

Glimmer jolted at that. “Uh, that’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

Catra sighed and crossed her arms, looking at the ground as she admitted, “He went after me because he found out I sent Entrapta to Beast Island.” Her ears folded down and she drew in on herself, as if trying to make herself smaller. “He was a complete wreck after I....” She exhaled hard. “After I lied to him and convinced him she’d betrayed us, and he completely lost it when he thought she was....” Scorpia put a comforting claw on her shoulder, and Catra looked up at her, laying a hand over her claw. She nodded and straightened her spine. “He’s not gonna hurt her. I’d bet my life on it.”

“Yeah, well, you’re betting hers,” Mermista said, coming back to the conversation. Despite her words, she was more hesitant now, and though Perfuma tried to catch her eye, Mermista wouldn’t look at her.

As if sensing her uncertainty, Sea Hawk sidled up to her. “Buttercup, he truly does love her. I told you about the gift he sent to her—"

“That doesn’t mean he’s not using her.”

“—and have I mentioned that he calls her—"

“Ugh! Yes, you’ve told me what he calls her.” Mermista glanced at the purple yurt, mouth pursed. “But it’s just a nickname. It doesn’t prove anything.”

Before Sea Hawk could speak again, Bow raised his voice and said, “In any case, it’s obvious Entrapta cares about him. A lot. If we don’t try to get along with him, we’ll just end up pushing her away. Whatever personal issues we have with him...I think we should give him a chance. Not just politically, but personally too. We already left her behind once. We can’t do that to her again.”

All of them grew quiet at that. Catra‘s gaze was fixed on the ground, and Mermista refused to look at anyone. Her crossed arms had loosened, though, and when Sea Hawk took her hand, she didn’t shake him off.

“Alright,” she finally said, “For Geek Princess. He can stay—at least until he shows his true colors.”

Sea Hawk’s smile was big and broad. “So I can invite him to the palace for dinner?”

She huffed and shoved him away. “Don’t push it.”

Perfuma raised a hand, index finger extended. “So that’s a ‘no’ on the guest prison?”

“A definite ‘no’,” Adora said, putting an arm around Catra’s shoulders. “Who’s gonna tell Entrapta and Hordak?”

Bow frowned, rubbing his chin. “She was pretty upset. I think we need to do more than just tell her he can stay. I think we need to make it up to her. Anyone have any ideas?”

Sea Hawk and Scorpia raised their hands and immediately began talking over one another in their excitement.

#intimacy log #entrapdak #entrapta #hordak #bow #mermista #adora #catra #scorpia #perfuma #glimmer

[hispydamy618]

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power x Spaceling: Glitch in Space

Summary: After opening the portal, it tears a hole across the dimensions giving an entrance for the New York heroes: Utopix Jones, Georgine Wilson, Gabriel Rodriguez, Oliver Schmidt and Makena Jones, to fall right through. Together, they'll need to recreate the disaster that brought them to Etheria alongside the Princess' Rebellion in order to go back home and fix what was broken... but not before defeating the obstacles on the way.

Disclaimer: Contains spoilers for She-Ra’s season 3 finale and Spaceling’s issue 10-12 events.

(Thank you so much to @catlliecal​ for co-writing this with me!)

Masterlist: Chapter 1 (you’re here!) // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7

Word Count: 3.2k 

Check Spaceling out!

Chapter 1: And We Must Be Brave

Sunrise in Ethernia was always a sight to behold, bringing out the beauty of the land. Even the Horde infested Fright Zone looked nice at this time of day. The Kingdom of Snows sparkled like a diamond, the rays of the sun making the ice shine. The flowers in Plumeria reach up to soak in the light, opening up their petals and showing off their color. Salinaes' waters began to twinkle in the light as they kept hitting the city walls. Shadows stretched over Dryl, the sun showing off the kingdom's grand architecture. The hidden kingdom of Mystacor danced in the sky, floating in place as the sun came up and passed them. None of these places compared to Bright Moon at sunrise. every nook and cranny came alive with energy and life, glimmering with hope for all to see. 

Which did not include Adora, who was currently fast asleep. 

She began squirming around, trying to grab something without waking up. Unfortunately, she squirmed around too much and fell out of her bed and onto the floor.

"Urg..." Adora regretfully opened up her eyes, groaning and moaning as she tried to get a sense of her surroundings. Hadn't she gotten over the whole 'falling out of the very tall bed thing' already? According to today, apparently not.

"Oh, I didn't think it could get worse..." she slowly stood up and began stretching, trying to lessen the aches running up and down her. That last fight with Catra really put her through the ringer, even putting aside the whole realty-crumbling-as-far-as-the-eye-can-see fact. Falling onto the floor only aggravated those pains. A hot bath was certainly in order, especially if the First Ones wanted to go over more physical combat skills with She-Ra later on.

Adora let out a huge yawn before she felt her a couple of her bones pop. Going back to sleep now was pointless since the sun was up. She'd only get a few more moments before Bow came in telling her not to sleep the day away, followed up by Glimmer teleporting onto her bed and yanking the sheets off.

"Morning, Adora."

"Morning, Glimmer. Good to see you– what are you doing in here?"

Adora rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't imagining things. There Glimmer was, sitting on the window seat, looking over Bright Moon.

"Oh, you know," Glimmer shrugged. "Just... thinking."

"What kind of thinking?" Adora plopped down on the other side of the window seat.

"Just normal thinking about normal stuff."

"Right, normal thinking. Not processing-what-just-happened thinking."

"Totally not that!" Glimmer's voice cracked on the last word.The two sat in silence, watching what remained of the sunrise.

"You know," Adora began, "if you wanna talk about it, I'm here to listen."

"Not really," Glimmer pulled her legs to her chest.

"You sure?" Adora asked, trying to push the envelope as much as she could.

"I'm sure... I don't wanna think about it unless I have to."

"Got it..." Adora clicked her tongue. She shuffled around a little, the air heavy with unspoken words. It's not like Adora could blame Glimmer. Even if Angelica was alive, she was sealed away. Sure, Etheria was safe from being ripped apart by space-time itself, but nothing felt right. It had barely been a day and the lack of one prominent face was already very noticeable. While Adora had never had a good mother, she couldn't help but think about how heartbroken Glimmer must be.

Hopefully she would open up soon.

And yet, dozens of dimensions away, another planet dealt with a less disastrous situation. Most specifically at New York... on a young girl's house. Makena's.

"Make yourselves at home!" Makena smiled at her two guests, Georgine and Utopix, while trying to unlock the door. 

"Oh, this'll be fun!" Utopix excitedly waited by Georgine's side, who kept him close at all times. It hadn't been weeks since she decided to confess her love to him by printing her lips on his... yet she decided to protect him with such ferocity and valor. 

"Why, hello!" Gabriel greeted the two lovebirds, leaning near Oliver's grumpy self.

"Hello, guys!" Utopix immediately reacted at his interaction by happily waving at him, unlike Georgine who glanced away at the discomfort of noticing Oliver there. Not that she cared, but she'd rather not deal with it right now.

"Oh, shoot..." she spoke out like a curse. 

Hours have passed and Georgine had explained the uncomfortable situation that Utopix and her had to face earlier that week: a doppelgänger barging in her house and intimidating Utopix... letting him know of his existence. 

"A doppelgänger?" Makena asked in concern.

"Yeah... We saw him a few days ago," Georgine replied, keeping her head low.

"What did he look like?" Makena added another question as she handed her a pencil and a blank piece of paper for her to sketch the stranger's face. She knew that such ability was one of Georgine's skills, so it'd be easy for her to try and replicate the unwanted individual's features. It wasn't that hard to remember it either. She had checked Uto's, as she called him, video log to understand what had happened that night. 

"Kinda like Uto, but his hair was..." Georgine allowed the pencil to do the work for her.

After she was done sketching, she allowed her body to rest against the chair she was sitting on. Makena's hand rested on Georgine's shoulders as she contemplated the illustration. 

"Oh." Makena didn't know what else to expect. The illustration looked quite like Utopix, just a tad bit different.

"Every good villain needs a name!" Gabriel interfered into their conversation as he prepared a chess board to keep Oliver entertained. "What about 'Otu'?" Gabriel's imagination run wild as the doppelgänger-needs-to-kill-the-hero situation was placed upon him. It bothered Georgine at times, but for once she'd let it pass.

"I guess so..." she said, holding the illustration near her face. "Takara must have sent him to take us off guard." Georgine assumed. "'Otu' managed to turn off Sabrina..." she added.

"That's awful..." Makena's concern instantly invaded her once more. "I-Is she okay? Oliver can fix her!!"

"Enlighten me," Georgine held Sabrina's... body up which was covered by a blanket which easily slipped off.

Oliver immediately analyzed the problem and decided to reveal his diagnosis. "If she's turned off, then she'll eventually turn back on. We can't force it." 

Utopix's curiosity jumped at his words. "How do you know that?" It's not that he was amused that a foreigner knew basic Sardkenofian technology. It was the fact that he quickly came to a conclusion without hesitating... why? Oliver nearly stuttered, his head trying to come up with an excuse to satisfy the robot's curiosity.

"Checkmate!" Gabriel shouted; easily winning the chess game that Oliver barely paid attention to. 

"Let's just get to fight practice already." Georgine merely seemed to suggest.

Once they were all at the bluntly painted basement, Georgine began wrapping some sport tape around her knuckles. 

"Tsk... Mine is a lot better," Oliver commented on Makena's basement, as if there was supposed to be something more than just that.

"Lil' brat." Georgine shook her head as a mere reaction. "Either way, just watch and learn for now."

Makena giggled at their interaction, attracting her sweet kitten Smokey who simply posed by her. "Aww, Smokey..." she caressed him, attempting to make him sleepy.

But miles above the sky, that intimidating doppelgänger was being submitted to horrid punishment. His skin barely holding itself together after the many punches and slaps that Takara exposed him to. His target of destroying Utopix Alle Jones had been consumed by the slightest feeling in his non-existent heart. But he hadn't shown any sign of it when he paid him a visit, so what was really going on?

"I gave you a target and you failed miserably, 36." Takara angrily spoke to "Otu", a.k.a. as Experiment 36, merely giving the idea that she had tried this sort-of thing before. "Hit it." Takara ordered Blu, her other henchman, to activate the oh-so-painful electricity that ran across Otu's body mercilessly. "I hope that you don't disappoint me again," her voice delivering a statement and a threat.

"Ma'am... It seems that the squad has moved location." Blu pointed out as he observed the main screen.

"Where are they right now?"

"Ameritania Hotel."

"Okay, 36." Takara glanced at him, who was trying his best to recover from such treatment. "This'll be your chance to prove that you're not useless," she said, assigning him his next mission. "Make sure Uto suffers." Her usage of Georgine's nickname for Utopix in Otu's ears made him tremble, fully engaging into his armor.

The gang, unbothered by any of the events that had happened during that week, decided to sneak in one of the bedrooms at Ameritania Hotel, one of the most prestigious hotels in New York. They didn't complain... Georgine had done some very sketchy in the past: breaking into cars of her friends' exes, graffiting a bully's garage door, among other things.

"How come that they let us in?" Utopix watched the rain slipping down the window's glass.

"The receptionist's a friend of mine." Georgine replied, as if their presence wasn't a problem that could said person fired.

"Oh, that's cool!" Utopix united to the unbothered feeling that the others were in. 

"So, why are we here exactly?"

"You kidding? Free food!" Gabriel cheered up, as Oliver was munching on a couple of chips from a big bowl.

Suddenly, a lightning stroke in the sky, catching Utopix's attention but also making him flinch. Georgine found it adorable. She'd assume that Sardkenof had a climate similar to Earth's, but it seemed that he was mostly bothered by the sound than anything else. 

"It happens when it rains," she simply commented on it, placing a hand on his shoulder for reassurance.

"Well, it's horrible..." Utopix caressed his other arm in discomfort, despite feeling Georgine's.

"It doesn't have to be if you don't want it to." Georgine's fingers gently brushed his hand, meaning to intertwine said fingers with his. 

"You look so adorable together!" Makena's head popped from underneath the sheets she was hiding in. 

"Oh, shut up. We were too." Georgine objected, recalling the time that they used to share said feelings back in their youth.

"Earthlings date the same gender?" Utopix learned something new from their culture, to say the least.

"Yeah, but some are picky about it." Georgine added to said information.

But their heartfelt moment was interrupted by a blurry dark maroon sight from the other side of the window. "Uh, guys... Is that who I think it is?" Gabriel commented on it.

"Oh no..." Georgine instinctively placed her arm in front of Utopix, despite the other not having entered the building yet.

How horrid was it for Utopix to be able to contemplate Otu's smirk from afar, letting him know that something was going to be wrong, that something was going to happen. Either to him, or his new friends. As if called by a cue, Utopix's arms were wrapped around Georgine's chest to stop her from any sudden movement. 

"Goddamn it. It's that punk again!" Georgine leaned against the window, bringing Utopix forward with her. 

Makena's motherly nature kicked in. "Georgie, language!"

Takara thought that she had them all under her grasp, that she'd finally be crowned victorious after many weeks of wanting to eliminate what was, supposedly, left of the Jones family. But not just yet. Before Oliver could create any plan of defense, a big blast of lightning had hit the sky once again, making Utopix flinch yet again and refuge on Georgine's strong arms. 

And suddenly... silence. 

The gang took a better look at the sky from the window. Four of them knew what New York's weather was like, and it clearly wasn't like that. Seconds later, a minuscule purple light appeared on the center of gray cloudy sky, obliterating every piece of darkness 'round every corner in seconds. 

"What in the name of the sweet heck is that!?" Gabriel shouted in both fear and excitement. 

Oliver quickly jumped to a conclusion. Again. "It's a wormhole... A portal! Get out of here! Now!" He pressed a button on his smart watch; equipping Makena, Gabriel and Georgine with special gear that they had grabbed beforehand.

Georgine immediately scooped Utopix in her arms, running downstairs and to the hotel's entrance. As they joined the sea of people evacuating the hotel, the bright light shone brighter, vacuuming everything on its way. Cars, signs, trees... even people.

"Makena!" Georgine shouted in desperation, witnessing how her friends were lifted up into the sky and disappearing into the hole in the sky. Her feet meant to stick to the ground to the best of her ability, but a fire hydrant had prevented her from doing so. 

"W-Where are we going!?" Utopix's eyes were closed, his hands gripped onto Georgine's back whenever he felt their weight being lighted. His eyes shredding tears, fearing what might happen next. 

"Just... close your eyes." Georgine, out of options, embraced him closely as their bodies entered the purple-esque portal.

Otu observed in shock, until a dreadful voice in his communicator snapped him back to reality. "Well!? What are you waiting for, 36? Follow them!" Takara demanded from him, meaning to sacrifice him if it meant that the others had been obliterated by whatever there was in that portal. Hesitantly, but firmly, Otu rocketed from the roof he was standing on and onto the remaining waves of the terrifying portal. 

And just like that, the portal was closed. As if someone had pulled a switch and turned it off... or more likely, a sword.

The tan-haired girl had waited for a light... a soft voice that'd wake her up saying 'Welcome to Heaven', or anything at all. Instead, her eyes had opened to a soft colored sky. Gentle chirps and water waves made her realize that she was somewhere else. A pair of blinks helped her double-vision adjust to a strange one-eyed creature that shouted once it notice that she was conscious to which she yelled and slapped it off, making it run off to the purple-tainted trees. "W-What is...?" her hands felt the sharp glass around her but also alerted her of something else. "Utopix... Uto! UTO!"

"G-Georgie!" Utopix's frighted voice cried out from one of the trees, holding onto one of its branches for dear life. "H-Help..."

"It's okay, baby. Just let go," her arms were open-wide to catch him in case he fell.

Utopix's eyes widened at the idea and immediately shook his head in disapproval. "H-Hmm!"

"It's okay, sweetie. I'll catch you, I promise." 

"G-Georg-AH!!" 

Without any more words escaping from his mouth, the branch decided to break. Thankfully, his loved one had catch him perfectly, avoiding any accidents. "Are you okay, lovely?" Her emerald eyes stared into his with an expression of I-told-you-so, nearly smirking at his reaction. 

"D-Don't do that..." 

"Do what? Hmm?" Her nose ran up his sensitive neck, occasionally peppering it with gentle kisses, making him giggle as a soft tone of green appeared on his cheeks. 

"Utopix? Georgine?" Oliver grunted as he massaged his head from the rough landing. "W-What? Where are we?"

"OLIVER!" Gabriel ran up to him, hugging his sides, not wanting to let go. "I thought you were dead! I thought I was dead!"

"What the- uh! Let go of me!"

"Never!"

Georgine snickered at their somewhat-sweet reunion, placing Utopix to a side as she helped Makena get up from the strangely colored grass. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yes... Where are we?"

"I have no idea," she clenched her fists as she observed the unntreathening space. "We better get moving." 

Once again, Georgine scooped Utopix from the ground, keeping him close to her warm chest. "Sorry, I should've asked."

"N-No. It's okay. I-I like it."

Her voice lowly hummed, turning into a chuckle. Her face leaned once again near his, planting a kiss on his triangle-painted cheek. Once she started walking, the others followed closed by... not noticing who had followed them.

"36. State your location," Takara's face appeared on Otu's wrist communicator.

"Unknown." Otu quietly spoke. Probably one of the few times he was allowed to do so.

"If you survived, then that means they did too! Follow them and wait for instructions. Is that clear?" 

Otu took a deep breath. Despite being born a few days ago, his opinion of Takara had quickly worsened with time. "Yes." He immediately ended their interaction, making sure to go unnoticed  as he sneaked around the shadows of the forest.

Eventually, the five individuals reached the entrance of the gorgeous golden castle, unsure of what to expect. "Halt there!" General Juliet stopped them from going any further. "What is your business in Bright Moon?"

"Bright Moon?" Georgine concluded that that's where they have ended up at.

"We just want to know what's going on," Makena kindly asked. "I don't think we're supposed to be here."

"Think!?" The guard seemed to nearly fly away when she flinched. "What is that even supposed to-?" 

"Calm down, general." A shadowy figure approached the entrance, but didn't seem to change any of its appearance once it stepped into the light... Shadow Weaver. "I'll take it from here. You go fetch... Princess Glimmer." The general left after letting out a long sigh and doing as she was told. "I don't take orders from you. I shall look for Bow who can look for Glimmer with more ease." Shadow Weaver rolled her eyes upon her statement.

Georgine's trust pattern was instantly altered upon Shadow Weaver's attitude. The way she spoke, the manner of her walking, how her hair swung around like a sharpen knife... she had seen it all before. Her hands gently gripped Utopix's thigh and arm... once he felt it, he looked up at her, then at Shadow Weaver. A similar pattern had fallen onto him as well... oh, brother. 

"I apologize for the unfelt welcoming, though I must ask... what brings you here so unexpectedly?" her dark eyes narrowed at that last word."I think we'll wait for the princess' arrival to discuss that matter," Georgine refrained from answering the question. Her hands kept Utopix even closer to her than ever.

"Very well, then. I suggest you wait in the throne room unless you wanna be seen by... unexpected guests." Shadow Weaver turned around, leaving them to their amusement. 

Unexpected guests? Georgine then considered that there might have been something else in that region even worse than her... Not liked she trusted the other's jurisdiction, but she'd want to avoid any casualties for Utopix's sake, so she entered the palace after the others had gone in.

"Oh. My. Gosh." Bow nearly jumped on his toes as General Juliet gave him the news. "New people!? L-Like- what? Horde soldiers? Princesses?" he then gasped as an epiphany hit him. "What if they're here from a broken dimension and want to take our souls!?"

"Bow! Just go find the princess, please! Once we know what's going on with... them, I'll decide what to do."

"Okay!" he then stopped his tracks and turned around to see her. "...why are you making me get Glimmer and not you?"

"Just GO!" Juliet seemed to nearly spit fire at him.

After Bow finally snapped from his fanboying illusions, he breathed deeply before entering Glimmer's room, noticing Adora and Glimmer standing near each other... and rightfully so. 

"Uh, guys...  there's some people here that I think you may want to meet."

#she ra and the princesses of power #spaceling #a glitch in space #she ra au #she ra season 3 #she ra fanfic #original fic #writing #writers on tumblr #hispydamy618 #catlliecal

[flowersandskeletons526]

“Broken Noses and Bad Ideas” - Glitradora Fanfic, Part 4

Part 1   Part 2    Part 3

----

Adora stayed at the apartment even after Bow had left. She paced around Glimmer’s bedroom while Glimmer sat on the edge of her bed. She rubbed her eyes and prodded the bruises and abrasions on her torso, her mind stuck on the sly woman that rescued her from the fight. She swore she had seen blood on Catra’s boots before they got in the car. 

“When did you start talking to Catra?” Adora asked, stopping beside her. 

“She came into the shop a few days ago and we talked a little bit,” Glimmer answered. 

“You know she’s a punk, right? She’s nothing but a dangerous bad idea.” 

“Wait, Adora, how do you even know her? Why are you freaking out so much after she just saved me from getting my ass kicked?” 

Adora looked down at Glimmer, eyes tracing the cuts and bruises all over her. Glimmer turned away. Adora sat next to her, her body angled in as she leaned close. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind Glimmer’s ear. Glimmer glanced up, and Adora smiled gently. Adora was always gentle. 

“Are you okay?” she asked. 

“You’re changing the subject,” Glimmer huffed. 

“You’d know,” Adora said. 

“Adora!”

“I’m just worried about you!”

“You’re always worried about me!” 

“Can you blame me?” Adora tilted her chin up, brushing a thumb across a scrape on Glimmer’s jaw. “You give me a lot to be worried about, Glim. Especially when things like this keep happening.”

“I got into a fight.”

“You got beat up!” Adora said. Glimmer bowed her head. Adora sighed and rubbed Glimmer’s back, holding her close as Glimmer leaned into her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want this to turn into a fight.”

“I know,” Glimmer mumbled.

“Do you feel alright? I know you already went to the hospital but, well, you know.”

Glimmer cringed internally. She shouldn’t have lied to Adora, but she was already losing her mind. If she knew that Glimmer had passed out and woken up in a dangerous stranger’s house, especially this stranger it seemed, it would just make her more overbearing than usual. She couldn’t deal with that tonight. 

In reality, everything hurt like hell, but Adora didn’t need to know that. Knowing her, she could already tell, anyway. Glimmer kept her mouth shut and closed her eyes as she nuzzled against Adora. 

“You don’t have class tomorrow, right?” she asked. 

“No, nothing on the weekends,” Adora replied. 

“Do you want to stay over? You still have some clothes here from the last time you spent the night.” 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go get changed.” 

Glimmer pinched the bridge of her nose after Adora stepped into the bathroom. She could hardly keep her eyes open. Her body was covered in tender bruises, and she knew it would only hurt worse when she woke up tomorrow. She pulled on a clean shirt that covered her torso and most of her arms, hiding the majority of the marks just so Adora wouldn’t freak out more than she already was. 

She sat on the windowsill and lit a cigarette. Adora came back just as she was finishing it, frowning as she let her blond hair out of its ponytail. 

“I thought you stopped that?” she asked. 

“I don’t even smoke one every day,” Glimmer lied. “It’s fine.”

“Glimmer-”

“Adora, please, not tonight.”

“I… okay.” 

They slipped under the covers, lying on their sides and facing each other. Glimmer shifted close and held Adora’s hand between them, closing her eyes. Adora touched her cheek. 

“You’re really okay?” she whispered. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

Adora squeezed her hand. She smiled. Just before she fell asleep, she swore she felt Adora kiss her forehead, but it was forgotten by morning. 

---

The Crystal Castle was loud and crowded as usual. Adora and Bow had their own plans, but they were under the impression that she had none. She knew it was probably a bad idea to be out when no one knew where she was, especially considering last week’s events. She knew she should care. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to give a damn. She heard Adora’s voice in the back of her head, telling her to be more concerned about her own safety, but she pushed it away. 

Glimmer went straight to the bar. She shouldn’t have been drinking. She shouldn’t have been smoking, either, but “shouldn’t” never stopped her. 

Entrapta grinned when she approached. “Bow’s friend!” she exclaimed. “Whiskey on the rocks, coming up.”

“Uh, thanks,” Glimmer said. “How did you remember that?”

“Well you came in with Bow last time so I-”

“I mean the drink.”

“Your hair is distinct. I remember distinct people,” Entrapta explained. Glimmer nodded and took the glass. “Is Bow here with you?”

“No, not tonight.”

“That’s too bad. I wanted to run a project idea by him. Tell him to email me if you see him.”

“Sure.” 

Glimmer found a spot by the wall as the band came onstage. Her grip on her drink tightened when Catra stood in front, bringing another round of screaming applause. There was something about her, a presence that commanded the room the moment she walked through the door and opened her arms. Glimmer was not immune to that. 

She knew it was strange. Some outrageous musician shows up in her store and then saves her from getting killed in the same week, seemingly for nothing, and now she was here to see her again for a reason she couldn’t find. She wondered if that could be a part of it; trying to figure out exactly why Glimmer couldn’t get Catra and her smirk and her confidence and her bloody boots out of her head. She was convinced that she would go insane if she left the mystery in her thoughts to rot. 

Adora’s hostility and subsequent refusal to talk only made the longing for answers worse. 

Aside from all the uncertainties, Glimmer knew one thing: she loved Catra’s voice. There was a raspy, raw quality to the notes she sang, a growl in her lower register that set heat blossoming in Glimmer’s chest and raised goosebumps over her arms. She poured indescribable emotion into her voice and the lyrics of her song as the other musicians supported her with haunting, unbridled vocals. It sent the entire club into a roaring frenzy. 

Glimmer was no exception. Catra finished a song and pushed her hair out of her face, baring her sharp teeth with a manic smile. When Glimmer met her intense mismatched eyes, it drew a genuine grin from her for the first time in months. 

Catra laughed over the cheers after the set ended. “You guys are amazing as always!” she said. “Thank you and goodnight!” 

Glimmer waited for Catra by the bar. The taller woman slipped through the crowd, smiling as she stood before Glimmer. Entrapta passed Catra a drink as Glimmer sat on a stool, facing the crowd. Catra leaned against the bar beside her. 

“You were awesome,” she said as Catra sipped her drink.

Catra smirked. “Thanks. Are you here alone or are your friends lurking around somewhere?”

“Not that I know of.” 

Catra hummed, sipping her drink. “I wasn’t quite sure if you’d come. You seemed a little spooked the last time we saw each other.” 

“We weren’t exactly in the best circumstances last time we saw each other.” 

“Very true. Your face looks a lot better.”

“Gee, thanks.” 

Catra laughed. “You’ve got a sarcastic streak, don’t you, Sparkles?”

“I try.” 

“I like it.”

Glimmer smiled, but it disappeared in a moment. “I’ve got a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“How do you know Adora? You two seemed to really hate each other.” 

Catra raised an eyebrow. “I thought she would have told you. No wonder you came back.”

“What?”

Catra laughed once, sharp and quick, and turned back to her drink. “Bad joke. Adora and I knew each other a long time ago. We grew up together in a private group home a long way from here but had a bit of a falling out when she bolted.” 

“When I met Adora, she said she was a homeless drifter that came from nowhere.”

“Yeah, well that was her own choice and her own fault,” Catra spat. Glimmer frowned, watching the sudden violence in her expression, but within a moment Catra’s face had smoothed back into its typical sly smirk. She lifted her drink. “How about this. You buy me a few more of these and once I start slurring my speech, I will talk about Adora. Or, better yet, we talk about anything else.”

“Alright.”

“Great. Also, she hates me.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about her?”

Catra leaned in quickly, but Glimmer didn’t move. Catra chuckled. “Sarcastic and a smartass. You’re direct, I’ll give you that.” 

“Thanks?” 

Grinning behind her glass, Catra threw back the rest of her drink and slammed the cup down on the bar. “Take a walk with me.”

“Where?”

“Through the city. The past several places I’ve been were a lot smaller than Etheria and I like the way big cities are at night when all the lights come on.” Catra smiled, eyes glinting. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

Glimmer returned the smile. “Yeah, it is.” Glimmer hopped off the stool. “Okay, let’s go.”

Catra followed Glimmer out of the bar. “You’re not really all that careful, are you?”

“Who cares about being careful?” 

Shoving her hands into her pockets, Catra grinned. “Famous last words.”

Glimmer learned a lot about Catra as they strolled through the glowing city together. Catra and all the other band members grew up in a ghost town called Scorpion Crater, which they lovingly dubbed “the Fright Zone.” Catra always loved to sing and taught herself to play guitar with a broken instrument she pulled out of a trash heap. Catra hated mice. Catra’s favorite color was red. Catra would listen to anything as long as she liked the lyrics and could sing along. 

Over everything, Glimmer learned that Catra was incomprehensibly cynical. 

“Sometimes shit happens and it just makes you worse,” she said as they walked, kicking a pebble into the gutter. “Kelly Clarkson got it wrong. It fucking sucks and you can’t change it and people suck and you can’t change them either.” 

“Yeah,” Glimmer agreed. She pulled her jacket collar higher around her neck as her smile faded. “I get where you’re coming from.”

“You, Sparkles?” 

“Yeah, me. My, uh, my mom. She’s the woman whose portrait is hanging up in my store.”

Catra nodded. “I saw that. That’s your mother?”

Glimmer hummed. “She died about a year ago. Some junkie shot her during a mugging.” 

“Did they catch him?”

“Yeah, and then they let him go. They didn’t have enough evidence.” Glimmer’s hands trembled as they curled into fists, tears stinging her eyes. She didn’t know why she was telling Catra about this; she barely knew this woman. But still, something about her seemed to drag all of Glimmer’s troubles out of her.

Glimmer startled at Catra’s fingertips against her cheek. She glanced up, eyes wide as Catra brushed her hair out of her eyes. Catra’s expression was calm and thoughtful as her sharp nails traced Glimmer’s jawline. 

“I’ve seen that,” she said quietly. “People not getting what they deserve. Sometimes it’s better to take things into your own hands.” Glimmer didn’t respond, watching Catra’s eyes flicker with the ghost of something hidden and dark. She smiled just enough to flash one of her unusually sharp teeth. “You look a little scared, Sparkles.”

Glimmer pushed Catra’s hand away as she returned to reality. “I’m not scared of anyone, especially not you.”

Catra laughed. It bounced off the buildings of the desolate city. She opened her mouth to speak, but her phone chimed and cut her off. All the humor in her expression disappeared as she read the text message. 

“Son of a bitch,” she growled. She returned her phone to her pocket and stood in front of Glimmer. “I think your place is nearby, right? I would get heading home considering how late it is.” 

“Do you have to go?”

“Yeah. I, uh… Scorpia needs me.” Catra paused, smiling as a thought occurred to her. “Here, give me your phone for a second.” Glimmer handed Catra her phone. Catra typed in her number and smiled as she handed it back to Glimmer, eyes glinting. “Call me sometime and we’ll meet up.”

Glimmer smiled. “Sounds good.” 

Catra grabbed her hand and gave it a quick squeeze before they parted ways. Glimmer hurried home, grinning the whole time.

The next day, Glimmer found herself smiling as she went about business in the store. Adora stood behind the counter, sorting a new delivery while business was slow. She noticed the happiness on Glimmer’s face as Glimmer stepped around her to grab something under the counter. 

“You look happy,” Adora remarked. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Glimmer rubbed the back of her neck. “One of the good days, I guess.”

“I’m glad.” Adora put an arm around her and held her close. Glimmer wrapped her arms around Adora’s waist. “It’s good to see you smiling again.”

“Yeah,” Glimmer mumbled. You would hate the reason why, though, she thought. “Probably because it’s getting closer to summer.”

“Do you need any extra help around the store? I know once business picks back up it can get a little overwhelming.”

“I’m fine.” Glimmer let go of Adora and returned to her work. “You and Bow are already doing a bunch of extra stuff.”

“Well, yeah, but we’re always here to help.” 

“I know.”

“Glim, really. I’m always here for you.”

Glimmer paused and turned back to her, offering a reassuring smile. “I’m okay, Adora. I know I’ve been a little weird lately but I’m fine.” 

“I know,” Adora said, following after her, “I just get worried about you. I still really wish you would see someone.”

“I don’t need a therapist.”

“I’m not saying you need one, I’m just saying that it can be good to vent to someone and work through things.”

Glimmer’s smile disappeared. “Adora, I’m not going back to that stupid doctor.” 

Adora stopped, taking a step back and holding her hands up. “Okay.”

Kicking herself, Glimmer pursed her lips and turned away from the sadness in Adora’s eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, don’t be. I’m sorry I pushed it.” Adora touched her shoulder. When she didn’t pull away, she put her arms around the smaller girl. “Just forget I said anything. Today is a good day, right? Let’s hold onto that.” 

Glimmer sighed. “Okay.” 

She leaned back into the embrace. Adora held her tighter. 

---

Glimmer and Catra sat in the back of the band’s van on a hill overlooking the city. Five meetings had already passed them by, two at the club and three hanging around the city, their discussions growing less restrained as they spent hours with each other. It weighed down on Glimmer that she hadn’t told Adora about any of it. 

In that time, Glimmer learned that Catra was an ass as well as a cynic. The vast majority of their conversations consisted of teasing and underhanded jabs, where Catra learned that Glimmer had as sharp a tongue as she did. There were times where an outsider would have thought they were being downright malicious, but every insult was met with laughter in the end.

Looking over the city, they shared a joint and a couple of beers, joking with each other as they tossed rocks down into the sand pit below. Finishing a drink, Catra grabbed a weathered acoustic guitar and leaned against the doorway of the van, facing Glimmer. 

“Hey, tell me a song,” she said, eyes half closed from the drugs. “I’ll see if I know it.”

“Is that your first guitar?” Glimmer asked as she gestured to the scraped wood. 

“Nah, that fell about years ago. This is the first real one I ever got, though. Now come on, give me a song.” 

“Okay! Uh… damn, I can’t think of anything.”

“Tell me a band.”

“Do you know anything by The Crane Wives?”

Catra raised an eyebrow as she grinned. “You like The Crane Wives?”

“Yeah, they’re amazing.”

“I fucking love them! Okay, okay, what’s a good song from them?” Catra picked out a few notes, and her grin softened into a thoughtful smirk. She shifted closer to Glimmer. “Got it.” 

The guitar in the song was fast and light, minor chords cutting through as Catra leaned into the music. Her rough voice carried the notes with harsh emotion, stirring heat and longing in Glimmer’s chest, dragging all her buried emotions to the surface. Catra closed her eyes as she sang. The lyrics lilted over her tongue, lips curling to flash her fangs as emotion poured from her. The toiling storm in her eyes clung to every verse, every refrain, growing from a pit in her heart as it pulled Glimmer into the fray. Within moments, Glimmer found herself drowning. 

As her voice faded and the final notes left the guitar, the girls found themselves so close they were nearly touching. Catra set the instrument aside. Glimmer swallowed hard and finally found her words. 

“That was beautiful,” she said. 

Catra chuckled, but her eyes didn’t smile. “It’s not meant to be beautiful. It’s a warning, if anything. Did you listen to the lyrics?” 

“I listened to your voice. That’s what’s beautiful to me.” 

Catra shifted the hand she was leaning on so her arm was behind Glimmer, their shoulders pressing together as mismatched eyes met a lilac gaze. Glimmer felt butterflies in her stomach, but Catra, on the other hand, felt her chest tighten. 

She had run into Adora earlier in the week walking through the city. They barely spoke a word, only cold greetings of each other’s names spat onto the pavement. If Adora told Glimmer about it, Glimmer hadn’t said anything. If Glimmer told Adora about any of their meetings, Catra knew she would have probably been dead within an hour of Adora finding out. 

A part of Catra wanted Adora to know, anything to piss her off. Another part felt like she was getting away with something with Adora not knowing. But above it all, every part of her wanted to be near Glimmer. 

She took a deep breath as Glimmer’s hand brushed her leg. “You know you’ve only known me for a month, right?” she asked. “I don’t trust people that fast, especially not when their friends want me dead.”

“Adora doesn’t want you dead.”

“Sparkles.” 

“Okay maybe a little but who cares? She doesn’t even know you and I are friends.” 

Catra shifted closer. “We’re friends?”

“Are we?” 

Raising her eyebrows, Catra tilted Glimmer’s chin up. “It’s your call.” 

Glimmer pressed her face against Catra’s and kissed her.

#glitradora #glitra #glimmadora #glimmer #adora #catra #bow #scorpia #hordak #She Ra #she ra reboot #bow she ra #spop

[haro-ra]

Idea from @spop-prompts

Adora bunched the blanket around her shoulders tighter, determinedly ignoring the cold.

For the attempted shattering of the moonstone…

She turned another page of another book. How many pages had her tired eyes strained over? How many books?

...for her role in the attempted murder of Queen Angella...

Another masked and vaguely spherical servant set down a cup of tea—lidded so as to avoid spillage upon the ancient texts—and a plate with warm, hearty vegetation that would leave neither crumbs or stains next to Adora. Adora mumbled her distracted thanks to the person whose body and clothing were better suited to the cold than her own and reached out numbly for the fork.

...for her role in the capture and torture of Princess Glimmer…

Adora hadn’t ever bothered to count the number of meals brought to her in this place, so it was hardly like she had lost count. She ate and drank fast, for the warmth, sure, but mostly just to get the action out of the way. Her eyes never left the page, and she turned it.

...and for seeking out the destruction of the balance, foundation, and structure of Etheria itself…

Adora stood in sudden excitement, blanket slipping, forgotten, from her shoulders as her eyes traced the words as fast as she could possibly read them. Then she read the passage again, to make sure, even as her breath picked up and her heart thudded in her ears.

...I hereby sentence Force Captain Catra of the Horde to death.

She’d found what she was looking for.

—

“Glimmer! Bow!” Adora shouted before Swift Wind had even finished landing. Her friends were there to greet her, looking excited and relieved to see her back in one piece.

“Adora!” came twin shouts in return, the two of them immediately tackling her into a hug before her feet touched the soil.

“We’ve been so worried about you!” said Bow, not an admonishment, just the truth.

“Did you find a way to help Catra?” Glimmer asked, pink eyebrows knit in worry.

“I did,” Adora said, pulling out the tablet she’d borrowed from Bow and pulling up the photo she’d taken. “But I need your help. This is going to take… some convincing.”

Bow and Glimmer looked at each other, a conversation passing between their eyes, and then they smiled at her. “You can count on us,” Glimmer promised.

—

The traditions of Brightmoon were very different from the traditions of the Horde, which were mostly just the stripped-down basics of the traditions of the Desert Throne that Hordak had half-accepted as a way to keep the peace among people who remembered the time before he landed in Etheria. Adora had expected some differences, since everything was different here, but wow. There was a lot more tradition involved than she had planned on.

Even so. Step one was the most crucial part of all, and that part? That part transcended cultures.

First came the question.

“Catra,” Adora said. The sound didn’t reverberate down empty, stone halls like it would in the Fright Zone’s prison. Bright Moon’s was, like everything else in this place, pretty. Pretty, clean, pastel. Catra didn’t look up from her prisoner’s mat, which Adora recognized was completely indistinguishable from her own bed. It would’ve been funny, to know that Glimmer and Bow had gotten her bed from one of Bright Moon’s literal jail cells. But as it was, as Catra would see it, it was just a normal bed in a pretty room that served as further mockery to Catra’s situation.

Adora wasn’t good at reading others. Even her best friend. Even her Catra. But from what she’d learned in the terrible, wonderful years since leaving Catra’s side, she knew that Catra would look around and see the pretty walls and floors and bed and gate and feel them as an insult.

“Catra, it’s me,” Adora said, not knowing what else to say.

“Hey, Adora.” Catra’s voice was flat. No mockery, no coy charm, nothing. Two words like dead rocks hitting the ground, thunk thunk.

The gate didn’t creak when it swung open. Didn’t even squeak a little at the end of the hinge. It glided smoothly, soundlessly, and Adora’s footsteps were the only sounds to make Catra’s ears twitch.

“I found a loophole,” Adora said. “A way for you to avoid execution.”

Catra lifted her chin from her knees and her eyes from the mat, fixing Adora with a blank stare. Adora pressed her lips thin, then continued.

“I know… you’re doubting me. I know that every time I’ve tried to protect you or save you or help you, I’ve either made it worse, or I didn’t actually manage to do it. I couldn’t protect you from Shadow Weaver. I couldn’t—I didn’t, help you in training. I kept getting your hopes up only to let you down, and I’m sorry.”

Catra’s ears were forward, her eyes unblinking, all of her attention fixed with devastating, unwavering intensity on Adora.

“And… I know you don’t need saving. That you’re capable, and you’re so, so smart, and you’re a survivor and ambitious and a menace and you’ve probably got at least two plans on how you’re going to get out of here and run off into the wild and lead a new life with all your crazy ambitious awesomeness. I know you don’t need my help. But, I want to give it to you. I want to keep you safe, safe for real, and I want you here with me, and to show you all the cool things I’ve discovered and introduce you to my friends and to show everyone how amazing you are and come home to you at night.” Adora took a deep breath. Why was this the hard part? “Because I love you.”

Fluffed fur, mirror blushes, the words finally said where neither of them could take them back.

“So,” Adora said, her knees slowly sinking down to the mat in front of her best friend, “Catra,” Adora said, her hands reaching out and folding over the scarred and clawed hand of her first and only love, “will you marry me?”

—

Apparently ceremonies happened before legal signings, in Bright Moon, but since this was a special case the two were flipped. Adora and Catra didn’t actually care, since in the Horde the only things that happened were the legal signings. With Catra freed from Shadow Weaver, the Horde, prison, and death itself, she set right into her natural way of making her presence everybody else’s problem. Everybody but Adora, who was too happy to have her best friend back, to have her best friend love her back, to get mad at her antics.

The wedding of She-ra was a world-wide hot topic. Everyone had contributions they wanted to make and advice they wanted to give. Perfuma and her people sent over gargantuan floral displays of every conceivable type and arrangement, calling them “samples” and asking which ones Catra and The She-ra liked best. Mermista offered catering, Frosta sent warm regards (which Adora had to explain was A Big Deal), Netossa and Spinnerella helped decorate, Castaspella and the other mages sent blessing after magical blessing, and even Scorpia, despite the new pressures of her place as ruler of the Desert Throne, sent assistance and a long comic depicting her absolute joy at their upcoming union.

Planning, preparing, and gathering everything and everyone took months, and Catra basked in the attention. Force Captain Catra, bride of She-ra, the unkillable, the desirable, the bold. Despite She-ra initiating the world’s attention, it was Catra who seized and kept it. Adora, better suited to her place at her lover’s side, watched on with pride and happiness.

—

Scorpia and Entrapta stood on one side of the patio, Bow and Glimmer on the other. The Moonstone of Bright Moon hovered high above them, and before them stretched the crystalline lake they’d once fought in years ago. Flowers bobbed gently in the still waters, too multitudinous to even attempt to count, and all along the palace exterior and shore of the lake stood happy faces, watching the ceremony of She-ra—who was really just Adora—and Catra. Bow and Scorpia were already crying. Their girlfriends held their hands (or, well, claw, in Scopria’s case). With the hand not holding Bow’s, Glimmer reached up and the Moonstone began to glow.

“By the authority of the Moonstone,” Glimmer said as Catra and Adora approached the steps leading down into the lake, “I bind these souls together. To love, to hold, to cherish and protect. To stand beside and value, and always to respect.” As Glimmer spoke, Adora and Catra walked, hand and hand, into the cheery waters, flowers parting as they passed, the folds of Adora’s dress and Catra’s robe rippling as they dragged through the water. “In hardship and in wealth, in sickness and in health, when the heart is sweet or har’d, your souls nevermore to part.”

Adora and Catra’s heads submerged, holding their breaths, and they smiled with puffed up cheeks at each other. The water was so clear, they could see each other just as well as they might above the surface. Adora turned to rise back up the steps, but Catra did not release her hand. Instead, she tugged on it sharply, darting forward and kissing Adora beneath the surface, light shimmering through the dancing waters and shadows passing over them beneath the flowers. Adora kissed back with surprise, and their laughter literally bubbled out of them. They rose to the surface still smiling, both pairs of hands held fast, and their foreheads fell together as natural as they had all their lives.

“Catra and Adora rise from the waters with fresh hearts and fresh eyes,” Glimmer called out, her crisp voice booming out to the distant crowd. “No longer one and another, but two souls intertwined; rejoice!”

The crowd burst into raucous cheers, Netossa even throwing up a few magical nets that burst into color before fading midair. Scorpia and Glimmer helped Catra and Adora out of the pool, Scorpia immediately pulling Catra into a weepy, bone-crushing hug.

“Aaa, I can’t believe I remembered all that!” Glimmer exclaimed as she and Bow—also still definitely crying—hugged Adora just as viciously. Entrapta perched on Scorpia’s shoulder and her thick pigtails began shaking water from Catra’s hair as she babbled on about the fascinating implications of Bright Moon’s traditions, comparing them to Dryl’s.

“You did great,” Adora praised, feeling like she could be literally glowing, with how good she felt. A sharp claw tapped lightly on her shoulder and she pulled out of the hug just enough to see Catra grinning at her, a full show of fangs and sharp eyes.

“Hey Adora,” she purred, and kissed her again.

#catradora #catra #adora #spop #background glimbow #background scortrapta #glimmer #bow #scorpia #entrapta #misc cast #writing #my writing #mine #me

[woppy42]

Mothers, be good to your daughters (Chapter 2)

Fanfic: She-Ra (2018) Rating: G Characters: Catra, Angella, Adora, Shadow Weaver (sort of) Category: Angst, family, mother-daughter relationship

Summary: Shadow Weaver is gone. Catra doesn’t quite know how she feels about it. (Post-redemption Catra). (alternate summary: sad cat daughter needs a mother, and angella is conveniently available) Chapter 2: Adora finds out about Shadow Weaver’s death.

(Chapter 1)

A small sound, like a rustling and a light scrape against stone woke Adora with a start, and she shot upright as her fingers closed on the hilt of the dagger underneath her pillow. She relaxed when her bleary eyes made out the shape of the figure now seated on the ledge of her balcony, one leg pulled up near her chest and the other swinging lazily.

Catra glanced down to the dagger in Adora’s hand, eyebrow arched as a smirk formed on her lips. “Hey, Adora.”

Adora dropped the dagger with a fond but exasperated sigh.

“You do know I have a door, right?”

“Aw, but I get so nostalgic when you threaten to stab me.”

Adora flopped backward, one arm flung over her eyes. “Catraaa. It’s too early for this.”

A soft sound as Catra jumped down the from the balcony. “You’re getting soft,” she teased. “The morning moon's been up for half an hour.”

Adora groan-mumbled something about the moon not having to train with five bull-hybrids for six hours yesterday, appreciating the slight chuckle that brought from Catra. That was good. Something had sounded a little… off in Catra’s tone today. The bed dipped slightly as she sat down.

“You’re back late from your patrol,” Adora observed. “What’d you do, find a good tree to nap in and oversleep?”

There was a silence, and Adora propped herself up on her elbows, nudging Catra with her foot through the blanket. “What, no witty comeback?” At this closer distance, Adora finally noticed the slight redness around Catra’s eyes, the exhausted slump of her shoulders. All humor dropped and she immediately sat up straighter, reaching a hand toward Catra’s shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah. No, I--” there was a breathy, humorless laugh followed by a shaky inhale.

“Shadow Weaver’s dead.” (read on AO3)

Oh.

Oh. Okay.

Adora braced herself for a rush of emotions, unsure what was to come--relief? Happiness? Anger? Guilt?--and waited. And waited.

And felt…nothing.

She shook her head, pulling her feet out from under the blankets and sliding next to where Catra sat on the bed. She could worry about her malfunctioning emotions later.

“Are you okay? I know how horrible she was to you, but… I know she meant something to you, too.”

Catra scoffed, turning her head away. “Don’t you act all perceptive on me now. I know how stupid you are.”

“You literally told me, you idiot,” Adora replied, gently returning the playful jibe. It was true. Part of the long, slow journey toward their reconciliation had involved conversations that stretched long into the small hours of the morning, the kind of communication that had been so desperately needed and sorely lacking for such a long time. Some of the things Adora learned made her shake with anger or nearly drown in guilt, but Catra was there, telling her it was over now, they were kids, she didn’t blame her anymore.

Adora took in the dark circles under Catra’s eyes, the slight puffiness around them.

“Really, are you okay?” she insisted. Catra heaved a long-suffering sigh.

“Yeah, I think so.” She flopped backward onto the blankets, eyes closed. “Or I will be.”

Adora opened her mouth to speak, but Catra’s eyes darted to hers in a warning gaze. Not now. Please.

Adora shut her mouth and obliged.

“What about you?” Catra asked a moment later, still horizontal. “You’re probably the only person she came close to really caring about.” Most of the bitterness had faded from the words, but a hint of it still lingered. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” The words came quickly, and Catra’s eyes narrowed in response. “Yeah,” Adora repeated, more slowly. “I think… I stopped caring about what she thought when I realized how much she manipulated me. And then after I realized what she had done to you for all those years, it was hard to feel anything toward her except hate.” She looked at Catra. “I think I’m okay. Really.”

Catra raised an eyebrow, but didn’t reply.

“Okay,” she said, a moment later, reluctantly pulling herself up off the bed.

“Come on. We’ve got a meeting to go to.”

*

Angella folded her hands and rested them on the table, mentally reviewing the meeting’s agenda--and its newest, most significant addendum. The last attendees of the meeting filtered in, Catra and Adora among them. She gave the pair an appraising glance. Adora seemed… fine. Normal. Either the news hadn’t affected her as deeply as it had Catra, or her ability to hide her emotions had vastly improved. Catra’s gaze slid sharply to the side as she felt Angella’s eyes on her--of course she did--and Angella gave her a small nod and a gentle smile. Catra started slightly, eyes darting away, before returning the small smile with a somewhat flustered expression.

Angella’s heart ached. This girl was so painfully unfamiliar with even the slightest signs of affection.

She cleared her throat, silencing the pre-meeting murmur of conversation. “Be seated, please. The council is called to order.”

The meeting itself was largely uneventful, aside from the news of Shadow Weaver’s demise. Angella glanced around the table, trying to observe the reaction of the two girls without making her gaze too obvious. Catra’s tail twitched behind her at the words, her head facing forward but her eyes on the girl seated at her side. Adora, for her part, appeared to have no reaction at all--her gaze fixed resolutely at some point on the battle map spread across the table. A muscle in her jaw tensed, but that was all.

Hm.

Adora remained mostly silent for the remainder of the meeting, apparently lost in thought, the crease between her brows slowly deepening.

*

Angella tried to make her way toward the girls after the meeting adjourned, but it seemed that every individual in the room had a “critical matter” that needed her “immediate input” this morning. In reality, most of the matters could have-- should have--been handled by her subordinates. She was in the middle of informing yet another person of this when she noticed the two girls finally standing from their seats to leave the meeting room. Catra jumped suddenly, hair fluffing slightly as she clasped an arm around her middle and Adora looked to her in surprise--and then laughed, grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the room while saying something about breakfast.

Angella suppressed a smile at their antics. This might not be an easy time, but at least they had each other.

*

A short while later, Angella rounded a corner on her way to the kitchens and was surprised to find Adora standing alone before the mural of the first princess alliance.

“Adora,” she greeted, surprise coloring her tone. “I thought you would be in the kitchens with Catra?”

Adora gave a small smile of greeting, then returned her gaze up to the mural. “I told her I’d catch up.” There was a strange tenseness to her shoulders, and her hand flexed like she was making a conscious effort not to ball it into a fist.

Somehow, Angella knew that this frustration was not directed toward her.

Angella nodded, looking up to the mural as well. The likeness of her husband towered above her. The face was blank, stylized, but she always felt a familiar warmth from it. Like he was there, smiling down at her. It was no wonder she often found her way here while wandering the castle halls at night.

“She tried to use him, too,” Adora said quietly, staring up at Micah’s likeness. “Shadow Weaver.”

Angella inhaled, exhaled. “Yes.”

“Just like she tried to use me. Us,” Adora amended.

Angella nodded sadly. Adora sighed, sliding down the wall opposite the mural to sit on the floor. Her head was down, now, knees to her chest, shoulders curled forward. Angella quietly sat next to her.

“I should hate her,” Adora said with quiet fervor. “I do hate her. Ever since I realized how she really treated Catra when we were growing up, how she manipulated both of us her entire life--I’ve spent spent so long hating her. But now...” she paused, her voice trailing off into something frustrated, angry, broken. “Now all I can remember are the good things, or the things I thought were good. And instead of hating her, I hate myself.” Adora’s hand tightened into a fist at her side, then slammed into the ground so hard that Angella wasn’t sure if she was more afraid of Adora’s hand breaking or the stone. Her fist stayed there, clenched, trembling. “I know she never really cared. I know all she wanted was to use me. But when I remember her teaching me how to read, how to tie my boots, telling me stories--” she huffed a brief, wet laugh--”even if they were scary enough to keep me up all night--I... I forget.” Her fist trembled again, muscles in her forearm straining as though she was trying to drive it through the stone floor. “I shouldn’t forget.”

Angella reached for her hand, slowly, gently pulling it up from the floor. Adora’s muscles resisted, then gave way. One at a time, she gently unfurled Adora’s fingers from their tight fist, revealing deep indentations from her fingernails that almost broke the skin of her palm. Adora barely flinched when Angella’s thumb passed over her knuckles, which were already starting to deepen in color from angry red to bruised purple. She gently folded Adora’s hand between her own.

“You’ll love many people in your life, Adora,” she said, quietly. “Not all of them will deserve that love, but that doesn’t make you a fool for giving it.”

Tears fell from Adora’s eyes, hot with guilt, anger, and grief.

“How could I ever love someone who was such a monster?” Her voice was wet and shaking. “I should… If I did, I would be just as bad as… as her.”

Angella’s heart broke for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “Loving someone will never make you a monster,” she said with gentle firmness. “She doesn’t define you. She never has, and she never will. You are so much more than her, now.” She brought up a hand to Adora’s hair, then stopped short and wrapped it around her shoulders instead. “You both are.”

Tears fell faster from Adora’s eyes, and then she turned her face into Angella’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around her in a surprisingly strong embrace.

“Shh,” Angella said quietly, gently returning the embrace and rubbing a comforting hand up and down Adora’s arm. “It’s all right.” She closed her eyes to keep her own tears at bay. “It’s all right.”

*

When Adora returned to her room some time later, the first thing she saw was Catra standing on her balcony, drumming her fingers on the low wall. She stopped as soon as she saw Adora.

“ There you are!” Catra exclaimed. “Geez, I thought you got kidnapped or something. There’s probably still some food in the kitchen, if you want it. No bacon, though. Someone ate all of it. Definitely not me.”

Adora laughed on her way over, and it was only a little unsteady. “Whatever you say, bacon-breath.”

“Wow. Rude.” Catra gave her an intent once-over despite her joking tone, her concerned gaze lingering on Adora’s face. Adora glanced away self-consciously and wiped at her nose with her sleeve before joining Catra to leaning on the balcony wall.

There was a silence as they both stared across the water. Adora felt Catra’s eyes glancing in her direction.

“You okay?” Catra asked, softly.

Adora gave a shaky sigh. “Yeah.” Catra narrowed her eyes, but Adora continued. “I ended up talking to Angella. I didn’t mean to, it just… kind of happened.”

“Huh.” There was a pause, and Catra’s mouth opened and closed as if she was trying to decide whether to speak. “I talked to her last night,” she said, eventually. “It… helped.”

Adora glanced up in surprise. “You did? Good. That’s… good. I’m glad.”

Catra’s tail swished self-consciously.

“She’s weirdly kind of good at this stuff, huh,” Adora said.

“Yeah. She’s... not too bad. For a queen.”

Adora smiled, leaning in to nudge Catra’s shoulder with her own. “You like her.”

Catra flushed. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” Adora continued as Catra opened her mouth to protest. “It’s okay, I like her, too.” Catra looked away. “Glimmer’s pretty lucky.”

“Yeah,” Catra admitted. “I guess we got pretty lucky too, in the end.”

“Yeah.” Adora leaned close enough to press shoulder against Catra’s, enjoying the feeling of warmth filtering through the sleeve of her shirt.  “Yeah, we did.”

“I’m sorry, you know,” Adora said quietly, voice thick with emotion. “For how she treated you. I should have seen it so much earlier.”

Catra’s tail flicked. “Yeah, I know,” she said. “You’ve only apologized about a hundred times since I joined the Rebellion.”

“Still. I’m sorry.”

“Forget it, Adora. It’s not your fault you’re dumb.” The corner of Catra’s mouth was curled in a teasing smirk.

“Hey!” Adora objected, despite feeling a mischievous smile of her own spread across her face. She shoved Catra, who stumbled a half step away.

“It’s part of your charm,” Catra teased, rapidly regaining her balance. “Good-natured, strong, and stupid. Kind of like a cart horse.”

“I will push you off this balcony.”

Catra laughed at the empty threat, resuming her former place leaning on the balcony wall with her shoulder brushing Adora’s. They stared across the woods, silent, watching the bright midday light filter through the clouds and glitter like gemstones on the surface of the water that stretched between the castle and the trees beyond.

“I mean it, though.” Adora said quietly. “The apology,” she scrambled to clarify, “not that I would push you off the balcony.”

Catra scoffed lightly. “I know.”

Silence for another moment. Catra’s tail brushed against Adora’s leg in an unconscious sign of affection. “I forgave you a long time ago.”

There was silence again. Catra gave a long sigh.

“She really was a piece of shit, you know?”

“Yeah. But she was our piece of shit.” Adora sighed. “It’s hard to get past that.”

Catra didn’t respond, just swallowed and continued staring forward. Adora lifted her arm, wrapping it around Catra’s shoulders.

“But we will.” She tightened her arm around Catra’s shoulders. “Together.”

“Yeah,” Catra said, finally letting herself relax into Adora’s half-embrace and looping an arm around her waist. “Together.”

This was kind of an accidental chapter--I wasn’t sure if I was going to write it, but a comment convinced me. Glad I did! I wanted to get it out in time for Mother’s Day, but didn’t quiite make it, lol.

Thanks for reading! If you liked it, I’ll love you forever if you drop me a kudos or a comment on AO3!

#she ra #she ra fanfic #she ra season 2 #adora #catra #angella #spop #spop fanfic #fanfic #my fanfic

[kathyprior4200]

Entrapta’s Nightmare

 Entrapta happily slurped on a small fruit smoothie, complete with a tiny umbrella and straw. She used her other hand to pop a small cupcake shaped like a kitten into her mouth.

 “Log 175,” she spoke into her recorder. “It appears that after several simulated scenarios of the portal’s potential, there’s a 99.8% chance that reality as we know it will collapse and get sucked in by the gateway. Best to collect as much as I can. Oh how I envy one who can collect data when getting stuck in a loophole!”

 Had Entrapta been in the modern world, she would’ve happily sung along to the band Muse’s song “Unsustainable,” and compared herself with Fu, the mischievous purple time traveling ki from the Dragon Ball Super show. He would bend reality and bring people together to fight in the name of science and entertainment. Oh, and getting to meet and debate with Bill Nye the Science Guy would’ve been interesting as well.

 Entrapta shook her head and laughed. “Back to the task, shall we?”

 Entrapta was lost in the working moment, fixing up another bot and trying to come up with an alternate safer portal machine to make. She heard footsteps from behind her and turned around. Hordak stood in the shadows, glaring down at her with angry red eyes.

 Entrapta, however, was unfazed. “Oh, hi, there Hordak!” she said. “I remember trying to tell you that opening the portal would be very dangerous and cause everything to be sucked in and blown up. So now here I am, coming up with an alternative interdimensional gateway that could be opened with other types of First’s Ones…”

 She was interrupted with a growl from the Horde leader, his sharp teeth bared.

 “You would dare let the princesses in, behind my back?”

 Entrapta stared back in confusion.

 “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hordak.”

 “Don’t play the fool. I should’ve realized that trusting a princess could only spell trouble for the Horde.”

“I’m sure they probably let themselves in. It’s not my fault that I left Adora alone for a bit…I was just typing in potential scenarios on the screen to see what would happen if the portal were opened.”

 “What’s done is done,” he sneered. He turned away from her. “And here I thought, we would be compatible…associates.”

 “Well, we are still lab partners, right?” Entrapta pressed. “There’s no need to get upset over some minor setbacks.”

 “This setback was not minor! I heard what Catra said, ‘did you really think she was on our side? Oh, you can’t trust anyone, especially a princess. They’ll just use you to get what they want.’”

 Entrapta gasped. “She… said that to you? But that’s not true. I’d never…”

 “I have no time to deal with your lies,” Hordak spat, cutting her off. “You have betrayed me and you betrayed the Horde. Your actions will have grave consequences.”

 “But…but…surely you’d understand the dangers of the portal…and our love of technological advancement.”

 “Maybe I should’ve killed you myself,” Hordak muttered, almost to himself. “Or banished you to Beast Island, along with the others who foolishly questioned my authority.”

 “I’m telling the truth, I swear,” Entrapta protested. “I never let them in.”

 Tears erupted from Entrapta’s eyes, even though she didn’t consider herself emotional that often. “Who will help modify your suits of armor and keep you company? Who will encourage you to keep going and pursue your goals? When will you realize…that being different is never a bad thing…”

  “I don’t need your help nor your guidance!” Hordak bellowed. “I will get my revenge on Horde Prime and conquer Etheria on my own. And no more princesses will get in my way!”

 Hordak yelled in rage and smacked her hard across the face. She fell down to the floor, quickly picking herself up with her lavender pensile hair.

 “GET OUT, TRAITOR!”

 Entrapta sprinted out of the room, as fast as her legs could carry her. Not too far behind, Emily, the round bot, hurried after her on four metal legs. She ran down the metal walled corridor, wiping tears from her eyes. From up above, she could hear Hordak’s voice.

 “We are not friends, anymore…never were to begin with…”

 In the back of her mind, she knew it was Hordak’s imp, using his voice to intimidate her. But she was too heartbroken to care.

 “You wouldn’t, and yet you did let them out. You’re useless to me now. Useless…”

 The word “useless” echoed off the walls as the blue imp flew around her, cackling as he went.

Entrapta swiped at the pest with her hair, but the imp dodged her extra limbs. She ran and came across the same screens she had typed in earlier. The screens glared red and a skull with crossbones stared back at her. A low rumbling sound came from the other room, and the hairs stood up on Entrapta’s arms and neck.

 She could sense the portal opening up. Sprinting into the other room, she saw a figure pull down a lever. The figure turned around, revealing Catra, staring at Entrapta with an evil smirk.

 Entrapta had been too late.

 “What have you done?!” she cried. “Reality will collapse as we know it.”

 “I only did what I had to do,” Catra replied.

 Entrapta looked around at the collapsing room and the expanding cracks spreading through the floor and the ceiling.

 “I have to get out of here,” she thought.

 In the blink of an eye, Catra rushed behind her and stabbed her hard in the back with the stun weapon. Painful shocks of electricity flooded her body. She yelped in pain until her world went dark.

  Entrapta slowly opened her eyes, panting for breath. Looking around, she appeared to be in a plain metal cell, nothing much save for a hard bunk bed and a hole that served as a toilet. A loud roar from outside jolted her completely awake.

 “What…what was that?”

 She lifted herself up to the window and peered through the bars. Vast palm trees and flora were spread as far as the eye could see. Ocean waves crashed roughly on the rocks and against a nearby cliff wall. Entrapta noticed a huge footprint in the dirt, which appeared to belong to a dinosaur. In various spots were animal skeletons of those unlucky enough to come into contact with predators.

 Entrapta headed over to the door, and swept her hair underneath the small crack. She searched for a key or anything to escape, but there was none.

“Good luck getting out,” said a voice.

 Entrapta looked at an adjacent cell and saw another Horde soldier inside.

 “Or better, yet,” said another prisoner to her right, a gator man who had briefly defected to the Rebellion, “Don’t go out there at all…unless you want to get eaten alive by monsters.”

 “Or get skewered by the savage tribes,” added the first soldier.

Fascination with the strange land plowed into her thoughts. Yet the sense of curiosity was quickly replaced by concern. She could still feel the burn marks on her back and skin.

 ‘Catra knocked me out…and sent me here. Will Hordak ever trust me again? Will I be stuck forever, abandoned by…everyone?’

 “What is this place?” asked Entrapta. “I need to get back to the Fright Zone.”

 The soldier sighed. “The place where “worthless” Horde cadets are sent to. Welcome to Beast Island.”

  Hours later, Entrapta paced around her small cramped cell, lost in thought. Her mind briefly wandered back to one of her earliest memories, back at Castle Dryl.

 She had only known her parents for a very short time when she was little. Both of them supported her in her pursuit of science. Even as an infant, Entrapta was endlessly curious, rather than scared of the world around her. She began using the short purple tendrils from her hair around the time she learned to walk. In her early years of schooling, she messed up on a science project, the contents blowing up in her face as her classmates laughed. While she broke down in tears back at the palace, her father said that failure is a vital part of all experiments. Adding to the conversation, her mother encouraged her to always try again…whether it meant following the steps, or taking an alternative direction. She had called it “divergent thinking,” a term Entrapta still endeared to this day.

 Entrapta’s father was an esteemed inventor and engineer. He had been part of a team providing blueprints for the architecture of several Fright Zone buildings. He was an easy going fellow but also possessed a stricter side, (he was the ruler of Dryl after all).  One of his better known projects was programming the training fight simulations for the Horde cadets. However, he had also helped design the holographic map which Queen Angella used for the Rebellion. So in a sense, Entrapta and her family had been neutral from the start. His eyebrows were dark and his mustache black and bushy.

 On the other hand, her mother was a scientist by day, artist by night. Her hair was short and lavender purple like Entrapta’s and could even stretch out like hers to a lesser extent. She taught Entrapta how to paint, and frequently, they would spend quiet time together in their room, using paintbrushes of various sizes and thicknesses to create unique strokes of color. (The colors were mostly deep purple, white, and black, Entrapta’s favorite colors). Though her mother, Entrapta also developed her love of tiny food and cute animals. Soon, painting cute kittens, pugs, dinosaurs, and outer space became a regular past time until she got older.

 Times changed. Entrapta’s interests changed as well…from artistic to technical. She began using her recorder to keep track of her projects as a way to stay organized (and mostly to keep herself entertained). When her parents suffered a serious accident, Entrapta was left alone with her servers, both human and robotic. It wasn’t long before Entrapta became totally engrossed in her research and work, isolating herself from the outside world, and then from inside the castle walls.

 Perhaps it was a new dedication to create something grand. Maybe it was to make up for the aching loneliness she felt, whenever her mind drifted to her parents. Entrapta still remembered posing in between the two robots she had invented, one resembling her mother, and the other, her father. She made a peace sign with her left hand and held a wrench in her right, clad in blue overalls, her thick purple hair in two buff ponytails.

 “What were their names again?” Entrapta asked out loud to herself, briefly back in the present. “I think Dad’s name was…King Pliar! That’s it. Mom’s name was Queen Rachet! Now I remember!”

 Whatever the cause of her closure was, she would’ve been stuck with only her robotic servants and friends, had Adora and the Rebellion not entered her life.

  But then again…would that have been for the better? Adora and the others did abandon her after Adora had been rescued. Although things were fantastic for a while, with her having the freedom to work on anything she wanted, things then took a turn for the worse just before the portal’s activation.

 “Catra’s my friend,” Entrapta repeated to herself. “My data said she is based on compatibility, proximity, and mutual interests. How could it be wrong? My data’s never wrong.”

 Yet her mind flashed back to that searing pain she had received from behind her back. Did Catra literally betray her behind her back? Or was her mind overthinking things again?

  Entrapta took a deep breath and tried to focus. She had to find a way to escape.

#entrapta