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tinygrneyedshadow · 3 years

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This is Entrapa X Hordak and it’s wholesome

It felt strange. His prison was a room, a rather nice room with many cushions and crystals. Why did it have a waterfall? The bed was massive and covered in more blankets than he could possibly need in the overly warm palace. He was the villain. He had done so much in the name of restoring himself to Horde Prime’s grace. So much that was meaningless now, but had cause so much pain to the people of Etheria. What would they do to him now? What would they do to his brothers?

More importantly, why was Entrapta sleeping on his bed? Was she a prisoner too?

Her hair was sprawled over the entirety of the bed in random coils, the ends twitched slightly as she slept. The odd strand crawling about, searching.

His hand itched to touch it. Vaguely he remembered when Prime had grabbed a fistful of her hair. It was his own hand that had cause her pain, though it was Prime’s will. He pulled his hand behind him and moved to stand by the window, to look out upon the shining world She-Ra had restored.

How had thoughts of her pervaded his senses so completely that even Horde Prime could not erase her. He could not remember everything. There were pieces of his past missing. She-ra was a vague memory, a child he hadn’t left to die a long time ago. He had built an empire, but he couldn’t remember how long it had taken. A shadow had served him, for a very long time. He had been building something for Prime. So many of those memories felt like a dream. Yet every memory of Entrapta was vivid. She was the only thing that felt real to him.

His gaze was drawn back to her sleeping in a messy sprawl across the bed. She snored, just a little bit, a tiny sound like the rest of her. Everything about her was tiny, but for her mind and her hair.

He wanted, something. His hand itched again and there was an ache in his chest. He lacked a name for it, this longing that drew him towards her. He was standing beside the bed before he’d realized he moved.

Her hair had expanded, creeping about the floor like a rapidly growing vine, tapping around, seeking something. A tendril tapped his boot. It inched its way up his ankle then pulled itself around, looping over his calf as he watched in fascination.

The rest of her hair seemed to realize that this strand had found something and those creeping tendrils converged on him. He watched as slowly he was captured, from floor to knee by wrapping purple vines of hair.

As a tendril began to inch up his thigh, he began to feel anxious. It was halfway up his thigh and he felt compelled to intervene. He reached out and moved the strand away only to find the tendril wrapping itself around his hand and lower arm. He tried to use his other hand to free the first and ended up with both hands trapped.

His struggled to pull his hands free resulted in him loosing his balance and he was unable to catch himself as his hands and feet were entangled. He tumbled forward and landed on the foot of the bed.

Entrapta made a sound.

Hordak went still, not wanting to wake her. He found himself increasingly entangled as every strand of hair he came close to wrapped itself around him. As a strand coiled around his neck and part of his face he sighed. This was not going well.

“Hordak?” Entrapta murmured blinking at him sleepily.

He blinked back as a stray tendril crawled up his face.

“Oh! Hordak, I’m sorry!” Abruptly her hair retreated from his person and he found himself collapsed on the bed at her feet. “Sometimes my hair sort of, does what it wants when I’m sleeping. It’s usually not a problem.” She her cheeks had turned red and she was looking away. She was embarrassed?

“Your hair wishes to kill me?” He said quietly. That made sense. He had hurt her.

She blinked at him in surprise. “Kill you? No! I, it likes you.” She hesitated and looked lost for a moment, fingers gripping her own hair too tight.

“Something is wrong.” He said, eyes reading her frown and the timid way she seemed to curl into herself.”

“No, yes, not exactly.” She shook her head, pulling tighter on her hair. “I’m not good at this. I’m not good at people.”

He watched her pulling at her own hair. She shouldn’t be doing that. She was going to hurt herself. He reached out and stilled her fingers, untangling them from her hair which twitched and twirled once freed.

Her fingers clung to his, holding him there and then her eyes got very wide and she stared at their hands.

He blinked at their hands. He fingers so small and soft and fragile. She wasn’t wearing her gloves. He’d never touched her actual hand before. He tried to gently pull his hand away but her fingers held firm.

“People are hard for me to relate to, but you understand me. You listen to me.” She tightened her fingers. “I’m afraid we will end up apart again, I’m afraid to let go.” She frowned. “That’s silly though. I mean I can’t possibly just hold on to you forever.”

He let his fingers close over hers. “I do not wish to leave.”

“That’s good. I think I’d like to just hold onto you, to be sure,” She said quietly, but her hair was crawling towards him again. “If that’s okay. What do you want?”

Hordak watched her face. “I have no words for what it is I want, but if you wish to hold onto me, I find that permissible.”

Entrapta tilted her head, looking up at him with a nervous smile and endless hope. “It is?” That look, her eyes looking at him with hope and that same want he had.

He nodded. No sooner he had lowered his chin in affirmation then he found her pressed to his chest. Her arms wrapped around him, her hair tangling its way around any stray bit of him it could find. He blinked in wonder at this sensation. He had no name for it, but he had only ever come close in her presence. His own arms came up and he wrapped them around her, settling his face against the top of her hair. “What is this?”

“It’s a hug, Hordak.” She said sounding suddenly cheerful, her sadness washed away.

“I am aware of what a hug is.” He said quietly. “What is this feeling I have for you?”

She hugged him tighter. “Oh, I’m not so good at those. Is it a good one?”

He breathed in the smell of her hair and soaked in the warmth of her and felt that nameless emotion enveloping him as completely as her hair. “Yes.”

#fan fic #entrapta #hordak #spop #she-ra #entrapdak #entraptdak #entrapta x hordak

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hunterguyveriv · 3 years

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Injustice 3 Characters?........I’m hoping so!

So as of late, I've been hearing rumors that an Injustice 3 game is in the works. As much as I want all characters from both games to come back I think there are some characters whether they are DC characters that have yet to make an appearance, Crossover characters, or simply characters Warner Brothers has the movie rights to that I would love to see. This is my short list on who I would love to see in Injustice 3 if the rumors are indeed true as DLC characters.

DC Comics Characters: Abby Arcane - Current Avatar of the Rot: She could be an interesting addition to the Injustice cast if Swamp Thing and Poison Ivy return. I could see her dialogue with Swamp Thing being similar to Ollie & Dinah's and her dialogue with Ivy being more vicious towards because Swamp Thing's heart and soul has always been Abby's. Now I know, that they are no longer an item (regrettibly) but it has been proven in one of the recent Justice League Dark comics that they still have feelings for each other even though one is the Avatar of the Rot and the other is the Avatar of the Green

Anton Arcane - Rival Rot Avatar: If Abby is added for Swamp Thing then you have to have the one person who is their worst enemy. Dialogue between both him and Abby and him and Swamp Thing would be vicious and awesome. Even his dialogue with Ivy a hinted future Avatar of the Green from the New 52 Swamp Thing series. he could also be an invaluable ally to Superman to a point because in one of the tie-in crossover series to Injustice Superman obtained Rot-Creatures to protect his territory from magic.

Zuggernaut: I admit I know little to nothing about this character, except that he appears to be a copy of the manga version of the last character in this short list (who was created in 1985) and think it would be nice to see both on screen together challenging each other on who the true Alien Bio-Weapon really is. Would also be kind of sweet to see him and Jaime’s Blue Beetle fight.

Animal Man: An ally to Alec Holland during the RotWorld saga, I think interactions with not Just Swamp Thing but Vixen, Cheetah, Ivy, Aquaman (who is literally the Avatar of the Blue - Water) would be interesting. More so if Abby Arcane and Anton Arcane are added to the game.

Crossover Characters:

Oroku Saki aka The Shredder: Come on now, like Swamp Thing and Anton Arcane, you can't add the Ninja Turtles without adding their greatest enemy the Shredder. If memory also serves me right from the Batman vs TMNT movie, Shredder was also someone who could go toe to toe with Batman in combat and beat him and had him on the ropes their second encounter. Depending on what continuity you follow Shredder has been known to take down aliens 3 times bigger and stronger than him. So him taking on someone like Superman and soundly beating in a game like Injustice wouldn’t be that much of a stretch.

He-Man and Teela: Let me be as blunt as blunt can be. This is NOT because of the new Kevin Smith series. This is because of the Injustice vs Masters of the Universe tie-in comics. Both He-Man and Teela in those comics proved they could fight not just Superman but with Bane and Wonder Woman also. Teela mortally wounded Wonder Woman (who was saved on Batman’s quick thinking) and was even called a Good Soldier by a bleeding out Wonder Woman and up until the power of Greyskull ran out, He-Man was going blow for blow with Superman. Teela also got the attention of Granny Goodness with her prowess of a fighter and considered.....”TRAINING”..... her to be an addition to her Furies.

But even the He-Man vs Teela dialogue could be prove to be rather interesting, especially if she is te Injustice vs MotU Teela who knows Prince Adam is He-Man, and could prove to be comical with others because she kind of gets jealous when Zatanna touches Adam’s chest-plate.

Skeletor: But including He-Man and Teela, you have to include Skeletor who was plotting not just against Superman but also Darkseid all to gain access to Castle Greyskull even though it cost him his life in the end..... or did it?

But with the inclusion of He-Man, Teela, and Skeletor it also can open up the door for Hordak who in the Injustice vs Masters of the Universe forms his own version of a Red-Ring corps and took over Apokolips. The Hordak who like Darkseid is more than happy to commit genocide on hundreds of planets just for a whim. Which I know some will argue with his involvement you gotta have She-Ra - which I would agree, BUT Classic She-Ra. The same She-Ra who also had the title Desparda who had no qualms killing thousands in the name of Hordak and nearly killed her brother in the MotU: Eternity War saga which was also done by DC Comics. I know the She-Ra fans of the recent series will be upset with that, but lets be honest - for something that is dark and serious like Injustice, the new versions of Hordak and She-Ra just simply wouldn’t cut it. She-Ra and Teela matches and She-Ra and He-Man matches alone would be a nice add. Sibling Rivalry and two future Sister-in-Laws... “SPARRING.”

Guyver: I know, I know this is a wishful-thinking-pipe dream of a fan to a dying franchise. I know New Line Cinemas did the movies and Warner Brothers now own the rights to the Guyver movies, since I last checked or at least Guyver: Dark Hero (1994) which is the main reason I want to see Guyver crossover into Injustice. But I would love to see Guyver and Blue-Beetle (2 Alien War Machines) go at it and even even Guyver vs Zuggernaut. The dialogue alone along with their super attacks would be absolute gold!

Edit-Addons for DC Characters (6-25): Magog (Kingdom Come): If anyone by now isn’t familiar with Kingdom Come, it is an alternative to the Injustice Series. Instead of Superman killing Joker for Lois’ death it was Magog. When the aquittal of Magog forced Superman to go into a self imposed exile, Magog formed his own group of Super-humans and distributed his own ruthless form of justice upon those that his group fought culminating in the destruction of Kansas. The inclusion of his character could prove interesting because like Injustice the death of Lois at the hands of Joker and his deaths set into motion in both “universes” where the Justice League (who’s dangerously close to turning into the regime) and Batman’s allies fight.

Gog (The Kingdom): With the Multi-Verse in play from both games, the inclusion of this guy is a must! He started off as a normal man by the name of William who was one of the survivors of the Kansas Disaster caused by Magog, saw Superman as the as quite literally a Jesus Christ type figure. When Superman set him straight on things including the Kansas Disaster, William’s beliefs were shaken to the core and questioning his worth, in which the Phantom Stranger bestowed upon him all sorts of powers (powers of Zeus, Shazam, Oan, and a few others I believe). But with his beliefs shaken along with his worth and mental stability fractured, he used said abilities to go on a Superman killing spree throughout the multi-verse. He was so mad that he even went back in time and caused his own Kansas Disaster catching the attention of the present Superman/Wonder Woman/Batman. It took the combined might of the time Traveling Superman/Wonder Woman/Batman and some allies with the “present day” versions of themselves and “PD”-Superman piercing the veil of the multi-verse to completely defeat Gog. Seeing him fight Injustice-Superman alone would be worth his inclusion.

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emperorsfoot · 3 years

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Deleted Scene from my current fic!

From chapter 2 of "Gleam of Destiny". I deleted this scene because it doesn't really fit with the flow of the rest of the chapter, the transitions between it and the scene before it and the scene after it feel really abrupt and awkward. It makes the chapter feel choppy.

But, I still like it. So, I'm posting it here. You're free to read it if you're interested.

("Gleam of Destiny" is an AU fic from Masters of the Universe 2002 reboot in which Zalesia is never destroyed, and so when Keldor is rejected by Miro/the Council of Elders, instead of finding Hordak, he finds Zalesia and the Faceless One becomes his mentor instead. Chapter 2, the chapter this scene was cut from, takes place in the Preternia era before King Nikolas becomes the Faceless One.)

The High Shepherdess stomped through the Temple of the Shepherdesses, being led by a concerned Shepherdess acolyte, with two members of the city guard in tow.

“And nobody thought to ask why the King was in a part of the Temple that only trained Shepherdesses are supposed to be in?” She fumed as they power walked.

“Everyone just assumed he was here to see you, Your Excellency.” Explained the acolyte nervously.

The High Shepherdess suppressed the urge to snarled at the younger woman. It was an understandable assumption to make. King Nikolas was her brother-by-law and they were in the middle of an on-going family emergency. Even so, the High Shepherdess would never invite someone who was not meant to be in this part of the Temple to see her here. Not even the King. Not even her brother-by-law. Not even during their family emergency. It wasn’t just about privacy. They stored dangerous things in this part of the Temple!

The acolyte held a door open for the High Shepherdess. “He’s in here.”

She hadn’t even turned fully when the High Shepherdess saw him lying on the cold stone floor in front of a brazier. It didn’t take much to realize what he was trying to do. Perform a divination without any sort of training.

“Help me roll him on his side!” The High Shepherdess dropped to her knees next to him and tried to lift one of his wide shoulders and role his bulk over.

The two guards knelt down to help her. Rolling Nick on his side, resting his head on one arm, and bending one of his knees to keep him from rolling back over, just in case.

Confident that the idiot wouldn’t choke himself on his own vomit, the High Shepherdess stood back up and gave the room a more critical examination. She needed to know what he took.

The Havoc Staff was leaned against one wall, off to the side and out of the way. There was a worktable that held the remains of the goat he gutted for the entrails, and a tray of the bloodied butchering tools. A second table held a small burner, a kettle, and a tankard like the kind men liked to drink beer from, and two storage jars she recognized as being from the Temple’s storeroom.

Next to her, the acolyte leaned over the brazier to see what the burn patterns in the entrails might have told their King.

Seeing the acolyte move out of the corner of her eye, the High Shepherdess grabbed the lid to the brazier and slammed it down over the entrails. “That is between King Nikolas and the Goddess.”

She turned her attention back to the storage jars. Both leaves and vines. Nick drank both leaves and vines. She checked the kettle to see if there was any water left in it. There wasn’t. She checked his tankard to see if there was any tea left in it. There wasn’t. But there was a dark ring around the rim, showing her how full it had been. Too much. Nick drank too much.

“Um… Your Excellency? His pulse is really weak.” Announced one of the guards. She was kneeling next to Nick’s prone body, two fingers pressed to the inside of his wrist.

The High Shepherdess turned to the acolyte. “How long has he been like this?”

“I- I don’t know.” Confessed the younger Shepherdess. “I just found him like this and then went straight to find you.”

The High Shepherdess bit her nail with anxiety. She lost her sister, her niece was kidnapped, and now it looked like her idiot brother-by-law was in the process of accidentally killing himself.

“He’s in the hold of Bash-Or.” She said aloud, speaking more to herself than the other people in the room. “If he still has a journey to compete here, she’ll return him to us. If not…”

She trailed off.

#faceless one #zalesia #medical emergency #motu #masters of the universe #fan fiction #Preternia #2002 he-man #deleted scene #renkonnairu #gleam of destiny #keldor #keldor does not appear in this chapter #divination #animal sacrifice #reading of entrails #drug use #hallucinogenic drugs

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spacebatisluvd · 4 years

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

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

“This has been opened.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Imp?”

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

“Imp. He is just...Imp.”

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

“That is her sigil.”

“You don’t want to look?”

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

“Not even a quick peek?”

“No.”

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

Hordak exhaled hard. “No.”

“...what if...I took a peek for you?”

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

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

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

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

No. He could not imagine that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sea Hawk blinked. “What?”

“I am questioning your expertise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yes. Absolutely.”

“Fine.”

“Really?”

“Do not make me regret this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. That.”

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

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

“—and it just really means a lot—“

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

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

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

“Imp.”

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

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

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

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

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

“That is the typical reaction.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, really, this was his choice. Entirely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Ask subject how he feels about being bitten.*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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youngjusticeslut · 4 years

Text

Into the Light

Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power Characters: Catra, Horde Prime. Mentions of Adora. Ships: Catradora Rating: T AO3

“You will not break me,” Catra snarls, and she means it with every fiber of her being.

Horde Prime’s voice chides her from behind. “My intention was never to break you, little sister.” He grabs something off the tray, something that Catra can’t identify. “I only wish to heal you.”

Catra suffers at the hands of Horde Prime.

Every one of Catra’s muscles burns with pain, but adrenaline keeps her from fully experiencing the wrath.

Two clones escort her to Prime’s throne room, her hands bound behind her back. It’s not an easy trip. She stumbles often, her legs giving out from exertion. The clones don’t care. Every time she falls, they drag her back up again, pressing forward with their task. Her arms burn from being held in such a stiff position, but the clones don’t seem to care, as they hold them firmly in place.

Catra’s instincts are raging at her. She should be fighting until she really has nothing left to give. At the very least, she should be trying to get out of this situation, just like she always does. Her mind, however, knows better. Fighting is futile at this point; she knows what’s coming for her.

Oddly enough, she doesn’t care. Despite Catra’s defeat in her fight against the clones, she still tastes victory. Adora is safe. She has Glimmer now, and that archer boy whose name she can’t quite remember, and thus, Adora will be fine.

They reach the throne room. Save for the sound of their footsteps on the pristine floor, the room is silent. Every sound, from her ragged breathing to the blood pounding in her ears, is amplified. The clones drop her in front of Horde Prime, and Catra doesn’t even need to lift her eyes from the floor; she can feel Horde Prime watching her every move. Even though she wants nothing more than to run as far as her legs can carry her, she holds herself steady and keeps her face blank.

Horde Prime sticks his boot under her chin, forcing her to look at him. If it were Hordak, Catra was sure he would be screaming, yelling, attacking her. But Horde Prime sits still and merely looks disappointed. “The Etherian ship has changed course,” he begins, getting to his feet. “But your treachery will not save them.”

“Prime casts out all shadows. Prime casts out all shadows.”

She does her best to block out the clones’ malicious droning. Instead, Catra focuses on Prime, whose rage is cool, but collected. “There is no darkness that my light cannot pierce,” he continues. “No distance that my hand cannot reach.” As his tempo rises, so does the clones’ chanting. Her efforts of drowning them out aren’t enough, and she finds herself turning to stare them all down.

“They will not be able to hide from me forever,” Horde Prime announces, more to the clones than to Catra. When the chanting stops, he turns his attention back to the feline. “You were beloved in my sight and this is how you repay me.”

Catra stares him down, then bursts into a laughter so rough it stings her injuries. She doesn’t know what it feels like to be beloved in anyone’s sight, but it’s certainly not this. Her reaction surprises Horde Prime, but he doesn’t interrupt. “What did you expect?” she asks, all too gleefully. “After all, us Etherians are so very emotional.” It feels good to use his words against him.

She focuses on Horde Prime, narrowing her eyes. “It doesn’t matter what you do to me,” she says, because it doesn’t. So long as Adora is safe, he can do anything he wants to her. “Glimmer is gone. And you will never get your hands on Adora.”

At this point in the conversation, Hordak would have barked orders to lock her up, or place her on the next transport to Beast Island. Horde Prime, however, remains still. “Oh, my child, you’re wrong. Everyone has a place in my empire.”

Horde Prime’s grabs her chin, his metal talon grating right against her mask. The action is enough to diminish some of Catra’s bravado; this gesture has never done any good for her. He smirks, almost as if he can sense the uncertainty coursing through her veins. “You will be of use to me yet.”

Before she can ask what that even means, Horde Prime lets go of her chin and glances at his clones. “Please escort our dear little sister to cell number 6.” A slow grin stretches across his pale face, and Prime reaches forward to smooth down her rumpled hair. Catra jerks back with a hiss, but she doesn’t get far. The clones yank her back to her knees and hold her in place.

Her reaction bears no effect on Horde Prime. He simply sits back on his throne, smiling to himself. “So wild,” he muses. “It is no wonder your Adora does not want you.”

Catra chokes on a bitter laugh. Those words are meant to break her, but she’s been broken long ago by a villain of a different name. “You think that’ll work on me?” she spits out. “Try telling me something I don’t know.”

Horde Prime doesn’t respond. He just sits there, watching her. After a few long, terse minutes, he snaps his fingers and the clones yank her to her feet. “We will meet again, little sister.” He crosses his legs again, giving her one long glance-over.

The look he gives her sends a chill down Catra’s spine as the clones lead her away. Any bravado, any victory she previously felt slowly begins to dissipate. Her mind flashes to the green pool, and Hordak’s screams, and she grits her teeth to keep her jaw from shaking. It’s fine. She can take pain. So long as Adora is safe, and far away from him, she’ll be okay.

She’s just collateral, after all.

—

Cell number 6 is nothing special, but it makes Glimmer’s cell seem like a palace. There’s no bed in it, nor any niceties. Just a white room with a green forcefield, forever emitting a threatening hum. The clones deposit Catra there and leave without giving her a glance. Catra prefers it that way. The less she has to look at those damn clones, the better.

Alone with her thoughts, Catra finally begins to relax. She pushes herself against a wall and pulls her knees to her chest, tail curled around her. As much as she tells herself she isn’t scared, she can feel her ears hanging low on her head. She’s been scared before, but not like this.

With Hordak and Shadow Weaver, she more or less knows what kind of trouble she can get into. Growing up in the Horde has left her with a thick skin— not as thick as she’d like, but thicker than most. She can prepare for those types of consequences at a moment’s notice.

It’s different here. Horde Prime is foreign to her, as are his methods. From her few interactions with him, it’s clear that he values little, and fears even less. Unlike his brother, Horde Prime is not someone who should be trifled with.

Yet here she is. If she thinks about it, the matter becomes almost funny. Here is the most terrifying villain Catra’s ever had to face, and what does she do? She serves him the ultimate betrayal. If it were someone, anyone else, she would have laughed.

With a sinking pit in her stomach, she realizes that it isn’t anyone else. It’s her. Now she’s left to deal with the fallout. Catra rests her chin atop her knees, letting out a low breath. She’s certain he’ll kill her, if only to use as an example. At the very least, she’ll be electrocuted and wiped, just like he did Hordak. It’s not an ideal circumstance, but she tells herself she accepts it.

Seeking greener pastures, her mind wanders to Adora.

I’m sorry. For everything.

Catra meant it, too. Maybe that was the saddest part of it all. What she wouldn’t give to see her one last time before Horde Prime ends her. She wants to see her blue eyes again, her smile. That dumb hair poof.

Of course, these are only fantasies. She’d made her peace with speaking to Adora one last time; she’ll never see her again. Adora won’t get anywhere near the ship, Catra’s done everything in her power to ensure that happens. For now, though, she lets herself indulge in wonder.

If she could talk with her again, she’d give her a real apology. She’d apologize to everyone she’s ever harmed. Glimmer. Scorpia. Bow— of course, now she remembers his name. What a stupid name to forget in the first place.

Why had she sounded so concerned? Catra mulls this over to pass the time, scratching at the floor when her hands become restless. Adora doesn’t care about her. She hates her. By activating the portal, Catra had destroyed things between them. And yet, a part of her dares to hope that maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance. The smallest chance that by saving Glimmer, Catra had found a way to redeem herself in Adora’s eyes. She laughs at herself as soon as she thinks it. It’s a ridiculous thought; Adora will never forgive her for the things she’s done.

The longer she waits for her atonement, the worse she feels. Her ears are plastered to the side of her head, and her hands shake so hard she can’t hold them still if she tries. What’s taking them so long? If they’re going to kill her, there’s no better time. She’s weak, and injured, and will put up little resistance.

Still, no one arrives at her door, and the time passes. Catra pounds at the green forcefield, she screams. No one hears her. No one acknowledges her. Just like every other corner of the universe, no one cares about her.

When it’s clear that her attempts are useless, Catra collapses to the floor and clutches at her hair. Maybe this is how he intends to kill her. Wait her out, starve her slowly. Let her thoughts ultimately be the end of her.

The thought chills her to her core. She never thought she’d die alone.

—

It feels like days have gone by before the clones finally come for her.

Granted, she has no way of knowing how long she’s been in the cell. The harsh white lines bear down on her at all hours of the day, and though sleep is the farthest thing from her mind, she’s frustrated at being robbed of the choice. Her body is wracked with exhaustion and begs her for rest, but between the growling in her stomach, the unsettling cell, and her constant tremors, she refuses to indulge.

When the green door opens, Catra almost believes she’s seeing things. Two clones enter the room. Neither of them hold a meal for her, and her stomach growls pitifully at the realization. They walk towards her, feet clanging against the cold metal floor, and she doesn’t even have the energy to scoot backwards. She flinches when cold hands wrap around her arms and unceremoniously drag her out, not even sparing her the dignity of letting her walk.

It’s okay, she tells herself, trying to quell the fear that bubbles deep inside of her. It doesn’t matter what they do to you. Adora is safe now. She repeats the words like a mantra as the clones drag her through the ship, almost as if willing herself to believe it.

Despite it all, Catra can’t deny that she’s afraid. Her tail bristles, and there’s a chill that hasn’t left since her last conversation with Horde Prime.

“Where are you taking me?” she asks, hating how ragged and pathetic her voice sounds.

Neither clone answers.

Left to her own imagination, Catra reluctantly lets her eyes close. She knows she shouldn’t. If she were herself, she’d be taking notes of her surroundings and figuring out how to best disable the clones and escape. But she’s tired. All she wants is a few moments of peace without her teeth chattering or her insides in knots. If Horde Prime plans to kill her, a few minutes of rest won’t change anything.

Catra returns to her senses when she hears the familiar chime of a door being opened. Her body resents her, begs her to continue on the path to sleep, but all thoughts of rest are put on hold as she takes in the room. It’s empty, save for a chair.

She barely has a moment to try to understand when she’s shoved into the chair. The hard surface digs into her skin, and she comes to the slow realization that nothing on this ship seems to be designed for comfort.

The door opens again and another clone enters, carrying a tray. His eyes bore white pupils, and he smiles when he looks at her. “Catra,” he greets with Horde Prime’s slithering voice. She cringes, but as much as she wants to look away, she forces herself to keep looking right at him. She’s not surprised that he isn’t here in person; it makes complete sense that her punishment isn’t worthy of his presence.

“No games,” she rasps, doing everything in her power to keep her voice from wavering. “Just kill me and get it over with.”

“Kill you?” The clone cocks his head to the side and hands the tray off. He closes the distance between him and Catra, trailing his finger across her jaw. “No, little sister. I have other plans for you.”

Catra grits her teeth and yanks her face away from his touch. “Not interested. I won’t help you.”

The clone chuckles, a cold, calculated sound that does nothing but intensify Catra’s nerves. “Such fire,” he notes, circling around her. “It must be tamed.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

For the second time, she receives no answer. Instead, the clone pulls off her mask in one swift motion. “What a paltry thing,” he muses, examining it in his palms. Catra winces when he drops it at her feet. “Dispose of it with the rest.”

The rest?

It’s on the tip of her tongue to ask what he means, but she stops herself. She doesn’t feel like receiving silence for a third time.

“Should we restrain her, Lord Prime?” asks the clone holding the tray.

The clone in front of Catra glances at her before shaking his head. “There’s no need for that.” He smirks. “There’s nothing for her to fight. Catra made her choice. Isn’t that right, little sister?”

You made your choice. Now live with it.

Catra swallows, holding back the whimper that rises in her throat. Adora is right. She made a choice to protect her. Now she had to live with the consequences, no matter how much pain they caused her.

When she offers no response, the clone spasms and jerks backwards in an unnatural bend. With Horde Prime’s control gone, the clone’s green eyes return, and he nods to the clone not holding the tray. In response, the second clone stands beside her, close enough to intervene in case she decides to try anything.

“It would be in your best interest not to move,” he warns, emphasizing his point.

Catra’s eyes widen. From her peripheral, she sees the first clone pick up an item off the tray. It glints in the glaring brightness of the room, but the clone to her side blocks Catra from getting a better look. She can only imagine what kind of torture lies in store for her, and her mind goes ballistic with the possibilities.

A hand grabs a strand of her hair and pulls it taught, so she clamps her jaw in preparation. She tells herself she won’t scream, no matter how much it hurts. Catra won’t give Horde Prime, nor his clones, the satisfaction.

However, the pain never comes.

The room fills with the sound of loud, methodical snipping. Her ears twitch in discomfort. She doesn’t understand what they’re doing— where is that sound coming from? Something lands at her feet. When she glances down, she realizes it’s her hair.

She refuses to cry, and bites her lip to keep from reacting at all. It’s just hair. It doesn’t matter, not really. Not when Adora is safe and far, far away from here.

Catra repeats it to herself, over and over, but it’s drowned out by the careless snipping. Her hair continues to drop on the floor, gathering in a steady pile. Catra pokes it with her foot, but it only makes the nightmare all the more real.

There’s a breeze on her neck. She can’t feel her hair on her back anymore, and that scares her. With her mask gone and her hair shorn, what does she have to hide behind? As the minutes go by, she feels herself growing smaller in the chair. Catra is sure that this punishment bears little purpose other than humiliating her., and to her dismay, it’s working.

By the time the clone steps away, Catra is trembling. The room spins beyond her control, but she balls her fists anyway and forces herself to focus.

A disjointed crack signifies that Horde Prime has returned. Catra keeps her face still, betraying no emotion, but it’s for nothing. He doesn’t face her again. “I believe this suits you much better,” the clone says with Horde Prime’s voice, trailing a cold finger down her neck. “Much more ideal for my plans.”

“You will not break me,” Catra snarls, and she means it with every fiber of her being.

If she had anything left in her, she would have laughed.

“Unfortunate as your betrayal is, it did come at a convenient time,” the voice continues. “I do hope my prototype won’t cause you too much suffering.”

An object is placed on her neck. Despite her efforts to prepare for pain, Catra hisses as the device leeches into her and sends white-hot flash down her spine. She jumps backwards, hissing wildly and clawing at the device on her neck, but the clones are quick to restrain her.

“All beings must suffer to become pure,” they remind her, and for the first time, she understands.

The pain leaves Catra disoriented. Images that aren’t hers start flashing in her mind, and no matter how hard she struggles, she’s unable to send them away. She doesn’t notice when the clones cart her out of the room, nor when they lead her to the purification pool.

When she opens her eyes again, she’s there, standing at the edge of the green liquid. Horde’s small army of clones circle the pool, chanting, watching her every move. Horde Prime stands at the center, arms open, a smile on his face. The moment Catra realizes where she is she scrambles to leave, but the chip on her neck sends a shock throughout her system and renders her immobile.

Horde Prime starts speaking, but the blood is pounding too hard in her ears for her to register the words. Too many thoughts are in her head, and she swears the malicious chanting grows louder by the second. As much as Catra wants to play brave and hold her head high, she’s terrified. Horde Prime’s screams as the pool shocked him are still etched into her head, and though a part of her knew this would be her fate, she’s not ready to face it.

“Step forward, dear sister. It is time you are free of your pain,” Horde Prime announces. Catra’s legs move of their own accord, and she’s too weak to fight them.

In the center of the pool, for a single moment, there is peace.

And then the electric current begins, and Catra wails in pain. Shadow Weaver’s blows bear no comparison to the torture of the green pool. She reaches out, hoping someone, anyone would make it stop, but the clones just continue to chant, and stare.

Catra feels herself slipping. Within moments, everything goes black.

—

“Why did you do it?”

Adora’s voice lulls Catra out of her trance. The feline slowly blinks her eyes open, finding Adora, her Adora, above her, cradling her head in her hands. Catra whimpers at the touch, and she wishes she had the strength to hold her back.

“I did it for you,” she says, her voice rife with pain. “You weren’t supposed to come back for me.”

“Of course I came back for you!” Adora has tears in her eyes, and they trickle down on Catra’s cheeks as she presses their foreheads together. “I’m not leaving you behind again. Not ever.”

Catra chokes on a sob. It’s all she ever wanted to hear. “You promise?” she croaks.

Adora responds, but no sound comes out of her mouth. The hands holding her start to fade, and Catra fights to keep them with her but it’s no use. Adora disappears before her very eyes, and Catra is left alone in the void.

“How interesting.” She turns to the voice, only to find Horde Prime in the darkness with her. “It would seem that your Adora means quite a bit to you.”

She shakes her head, closing her eyes and trying to will herself awake. This is a nightmare. Just a nightmare, and Horde Prime will be gone the moment she wakes up. She’ll be alone, in her cell, waiting for whatever sick games he has in store for her.

It doesn’t work. Catra trembles and gasps at her hair, but quickly yanks her hands away when she feels the shorn strands. It isn’t a nightmare. This is real.

“You aren’t here,” she stammers once she’s opened her eyes. “You can’t be.”

“Yet here I am,” he answers plainly. Horde Prime steps closer to her, and taps the chip in her neck. “I have freed you, little sister.”

“No,” Catra gasps, immediately backing away. “You aren’t real. You aren’t in my head.”

Any distance she’s placed between them, Horde Prime closes in an instant. He grabs her chin, but unlike Adora, it isn’t delicate. There’s no love there, only control. “Would you like to see?”

He turns her head to the side where a vision appears. She thinks it's her cell at first, but there’s a barrack, so it can’t be. Her cell had been empty. There’s a murmur of voices in the air.

Alpha Squadron set for departure to Erelandia.

Go in Horde Prime’s will, Brothers.

Catra grasps at her ears. The voices aren’t just in what he’s showing her. They’re in her head. “I don’t understand,” she says, looking to Horde Prime for an explanation.

“You will.”

She keeps watching. The bunk moves out of view. Instead, a mirror appears, nearing closer. When the reflection appears, Catra’s eyes bulge in horror. It’s her. No longer in her own clothes, she’s fitted in a white uniform. Her hair is cropped, slicked back, allowing green eyes to take center stage.

“No,” she hisses, lashing out and bringing out her claws, swiping at Prime. He dodges all too easily.

“Are you not satisfied, little sister? I have healed you.”

“Put me back,” she insists. “I am not yours to control.”

He brings his hand to the back of her head, rendering her immobile. “But you are. I have freed you from your pain, your rage. For that, you should be grateful.”

With an angry cry, Catra shoves him away and begins to run. She has to get out of here. There has to be a way, some way, to wake up. If she was under his control, who knows what he’d use her for.

The poisonous chuckle overpowers her head and sends her crashing to the ground. Still, Catra struggles to her knees and pushes forward. She’ll crawl her way out if she has to. Flashes of the cell appear in her mind. The harder she fights, the clearer it gets.

“Why do you struggle so hard, little sister?” The image disappears, and she’s inside the void again. Voices fill her head, all at once, and it’s hard to concentrate on anything. “Do you wish to feel pain again? To experience betrayal?”

Catra’s memories flash before her eyes in rapid succession. Adora, leaving her, over and over again. Shadow Weaver, abandoning her and leaving her to face Hordak’s punishment without a care. Attacking Entrapta. The portal. Double Trouble. Hordak. The old wounds in her chest slowly start to unravel, and with them Catra begins to feel the emotions she’s worked so hard to bury. “You would so willingly protect the girl that broke your heart?”

Catra fights past the pain, taking a shaky breath before glaring at Horde Prime. “She’s my friend. I’ll do anything to protect her from you.”

“Such brave words.” Horde Prime tilts his head to the side. “But bravery cannot distract from the truth. You said so yourself, your Adora is not your friend. Whatever she may mean to you, it is clear she does not feel the same.”

Adora appears in front of her, blue eyes are clouded with hate. “I don’t want you, Catra,” she states, and the words pierce Catra like a sword to the chest. “You made your choice.”

“No,” she whimpers, softer this time. “Adora, please. I—”

“You what?” Adora laughs, her face twisted with ugly hatred. “Did you really think it would be that easy? That I’ll forgive you? You hurt people, Catra. The only person you deserve is yourself.”

She starts to walk away, and Catra follows her, struggling to keep up. She takes her hand, holding it tightly in her own, afraid she’ll let go. “Please… Stay.”

Adora turns around, but her face changes from anger to fear. She stumbles, and Catra quickly catches her as they both come down to the ground. Something’s wrong. “Adora?” Her voice is shaking. Every part of her is shaking.

“Why’d you do it?” Adora asks, tears pooling in her eyes. What is she talking about? The portal? Catra’s hands are wet, and when she sees the blood on Adora’s shirt she chokes on a sob and pulls her closer.

“No,” she repeats, because it’s all she can think of to say.

“Catra, why?”

“You’re okay. Just stay with me, I’ll get you help. I can fix this.”

Adora shakes her head, her lip quivering. Her skin grows pale, and her blue eyes begin to turn gray. “I loved you,” she says.

Catra holds her tighter, burying her face in her neck. She’s only ever imagined that Adora would say those words, but not like this. Never like this. “Stay with me,” she begs into her hair, clutching her with a desperation she didn’t think she had left. “Please, stay.”

She doesn’t stay. Adora grows slack in her arms, and whatever resolve is left in Catra breaks completely. The apparition disappears and Catra crumples on the floor, tears streaming down her face. A guttural, choking sound echoes throughout the void. When the ringing dims from her ears, she realizes that it’s coming from her. Sobs escape her throat faster than she can keep them in, and they offer no relief.

For so long, she’s buried these memories, the pain she so desperately avoids feeling. All at once, it consumes her. Breaks her. Catra curls up on the ground, clutching at her arms and digging her nails into her skin. She wants the ache to stop, for the memories to go away and close the hollow roar in her chest, but it remains. The physical pain offers no relief for her emotional wounds. Not at this point.

Not when all she can see is Adora’s blood on her hands, her blue eyes turned gray and staring at nothing.

Horde Prime approaches her again, and this time she can’t hold back from whimpering. “So much pain, little sister.” The chip at her neck sizzles with electricity, begging to take full control. “Do you wish for freedom?”

Far away, she hears a voice in the back of her head, screaming at her to keep fighting. But she can’t. She’s so tired, and the pain is too much for her to bear.

She really is useless.

Adora appears again, as a little girl, resting her hand on her shoulder. “I promise,” she says with an innocent smile. Catra rests her hand on top of hers, tears running down her face. She has to protect her. She promised to look out for her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers before letting go of her hand. “I’m so sorry.”

As the chip takes control, the memory slips away. Her attempts to hold it are frail, and Adora’s face slips from her mind faster than she would have liked. When it disappears, she lets go completely, and allows everything to fade to black.

She’s free.

—

The Etherian ship has entered the premises.

Catra feels nothing. There’s a smile on her face.

Pilot is alone. Identifies as She-Ra.

She-Ra is Horde Prime’s enemy. Horde Prime will bring her into the light.

Little Sister, I request your presence.

Catra stands obediently. She leaves her cell, joining two of her brothers. They exchange no pleasantries; those are reserved for Horde Prime. When they arrive at his throne room, she waits at the door.

“I don’t fight for the First Ones. I fight for my home, for myself, and for my friends.”

She recognizes that voice.

“Now for the last time, where is Catra?”

Adora.

She’s here.

For the briefest of moments, the chip ceases its control, and Catra sees her. She’s there, standing before Horde Prime, red jacket, ponytail and all.

“Adora?” she calls out shakily. She has to protect her. Horde Prime can’t get his hands on her. She moves to approach her, but as quick as the chip gives her control, it disappears, and Catra is rendered submissive once more.

“Catra? Where are you?”

She and her brothers step forward, approaching Horde Prime. The girl in the red jacket, the She-Ra, means nothing to her. She broke her heart. Horde Prime has fixed it, and given her peace.

She-Ra must be brought into the light, just like her.

Catra removes her hood, and smiles. “Hello, Adora.”

#she ra #spop #catra #adora #catradora #horde prime #she ra and the princesses of power #ariel's writing #yes #this is another one of those catra gets chipped fics #idc I'm throwing my take into the mix #it's far too long #but I live for the feels

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prince-toffee · 4 years

Text

Entrapdak Month

9. Human AU

“Oh sorry. Is Hector home?” The short woman in purple asked with a smile on her youthful tanned face. Freckles on her cheeks and nose, spread out like stars in the night sky. Her smile wide enough to go ear to ear. Two purple pigtails on the back, a beanie hat covering the top of her head. She wore a sleeveless shirt with ‘Dexter Morgan is my role model’, two strange fingerless gloves, a pair of dirty purple sweat pants and a pair of high welling boots. Also dirty. And muddy. She stood proud, she gave off a feeling of mighty height, always towering with her personality. A bag hanged across her left shoulder. She stood on the welcome mate - which had a red ‘not’ sprayed on it, probably one of V’s pranks. She seemed unphased by it or by the light drizzle of rain that night.

Infront of her, in the doorway of the dark mansion, stood eight or so oddly similar looking siblings. Most towering over her, with the exception of Moe in his wheelchair, and Zed who was ten. All of them looked at each other, heads and eyes turning from side to side, disbelief plastered on their facial expressions. After a few moments of awkward silence of staring at each other the disbelief turned to satisfaction and smug happiness. A smirk formed on each of their faces, except for Lee who never smiled, and Zed who was too young to understand. They looked as if they had won a deal or a prize, which they did.

“Sure. He’s in the living room. He’s been waiting, all nervous like.” said V, he was the one with the short shaved hair dyed red, even though all of them looked identical, boys and girls alike, yet he had a more vulture-y look to him with his pointy chin and even skinnier form then Hector, which Entrapta thought was impossible. His voice held a cocky tone to it.

“Please come in.” The woman with the blue mohawk welcomed her in, moving off to the side giving her space to move past them, gesturing with her hand to come into in the house. This was Dess.

“Oh, thank you.” Entrapta tapped her boots on the not-welcome mate getting off the mud before entering the household. The tap was half-hearted so the boots still left semi-muddy imprints on the nice wooden floor. Which had Moe scrunch up his face at the sight, he decided to just pass it, he was going to take care of that later. But hey, it’s the thought that counts. She was kindly asked to take them off and walk around freely in her socks. Dess gestured to the living room. Once again all observers stayed under the door frame of the living room, looking in on the interaction with giddy expressions on their faces.

Sure enough the short visitor spotted Hector in the centre of the room pacing back and forth, looking down at his phone screen. He looked nervous. Entrapta, from over his shoulder, saw her and Hector’s photo from the science fair, with her name above in contacts. She suddenly realised her phone was buzzing the entire way here, Hector must’ve been texting her all this time. He was always so worried, so self-conscious and unsure of himself, but only around her. She found it cute, in a way. Hector still hadn’t noticed her. Entrapta pulled out her phone and glanced at her messages from ‘Hordikins’, 48 messages unread. A giggle almost escaped her throat, she looked at the stream of continuous texts, her lips curling up. Messages were minutes apart. First:

‘Entrapta, you wished to meet. Where would that take place?’

‘Did you mean at your house? I would like to make sure, I wouldn’t want to intrude unwelcomed.’

‘WAIT, did you mean my house?! Because it is a bad idea!’

‘No. No. No.’

‘That is an awful idea. My Brother would kill me.’

‘My Brother will NOT allow it!’

‘Pls stay away!’

‘No please hold on, that sounded wrong. I’m sorry!’

‘I did NOT mean it like that!!’

‘Entrapta please answer!’

‘I am sorry!!!’

‘We can meet at your household. I could come over to your place.’

‘NO wait i didnt mean it like that either!’

‘Plase text bak’

‘Or call’

‘if you wish’

Entrapta had never seen Hordak’s grammar diminish as it continued, well not in text, he turned to an intelligible red tomato in real life every time he talked to her. And just as she finished reading over the last text bubble a new one blipped in. Hector must’ve heard it, because he turned around, his gaze was met with her own eyes, and for a moment he froze. A blush ran across his face, he was paralyzed on the spot with a heatwave storming inside him. Entrapta took the sight in, he wore a black turtle neck, his standard glasses and a black and gold dress with none of his famous slits - which slightly disappointed her. But it got better when she noticed he was wearing the pair of Star Trek socks she gave him for his birthday, she couldn’t believe he actually wore them. She felt her heart melt a little. She could barely hold back an ‘aw’ and it took all of her willpower to do so.

Hector’s blue dyed hair was messy, like he was, prier to her arrival, running through it frantically. A single lock of hair hung down his face, she looked to see Hector nervous, confused and paniced. They maybe realised that they stared at each other in silence a little too long, so Hector cleared his voice. He combed back the rogue lock of hair to look more presentable. His gaze shifted to the cluster of his siblings in the door way to the living room, pocking their heads in with smiles on their faces. Some suggestive ones too. He scowled at them. He set his phone aside.

“Entrapta, could we step out for a moment?” He asked with a wobble in his voice, trying his best to act tough and strong like he always did.

“No, no. We were all just going out for the game anyway... So you two will have the house to yourselves.” Dess stated as she directed her brothers out to the front door. She and Hector locked eyes, she was up to something he felt like. He narrowed his eyes at them, but didn’t do much else. Entrapta was pretty oblivious to the tension and implication.

Hector rubbed his nose, the unwanted audience wasn’t leaving quick enough for him, so he barked at them to chase them off, “Get out!” he yelled as they exited the house with V being the last one out, showing his tongue to him. The doors closed. He returned his gaze to Entrapta. He gestured with his hand to the coach as he himself sat down, Entrapta gladly followed suit as she plopped down on it. “I- um- I’m sorry about them... W-why are you here, Entrapta?”

Entrapta smiled back at him, “Because I wanted to see you silly. I missed you.” Hector wanted to reseed into the coach and never come out, she missed him? He didn’t know she cared that much for him. He found he didn’t know what to do with his hands so he had them strangely intertwined with each other. “And also because I wanted to show you something!” Stars in her eyes, Hector loved looking into them, he could do so all day. Entrapta unzipped her bag and plunged her hand into it and retrieved an item from it. She held it high into the air, “Ta-Da!”.

“What is it?”

“It’s a movie! I thought we could watch something together. Haven’t seen you all week. I missed you.” There it was again that confession, she missed him. He could not believe it, he couldn’t wrap his head around it. He looked at the DVD cover his guest waved in his face, he did not recognise it, he didn’t watch many movies. Nonsensical activities were not allowed in their household by their big Brother. The first game he ever played was Candy Crush on Entrapta’s phone, two weeks ago. He had very limited knowledge and interaction with pop culture. He did not go out much.

“Again, what is it?” Hector asked discombobulated.

“Well, I don’t exactly know, the blurb is super enigmatic. But I heard it’s really good, or that it’s a sin against god, no real middle ground when it comes to it. But I thought we could watch it together!” She rotated the rectangle container side to side, like a mother dangling keys infront of a baby, “Come on, I know how much you love being negative and critique things. You could actually have fun with it.”

“Fun?! You take that back.” He actually managed to make a joke, and it seemed to get Entrapta as she started to giggle. He really hoped it was genuine rather than a pity laugh. The short woman got off the coach and slotted the CD into the DVD player. Hector almost had a heart attack, they weren’t supposed to use it, it was off limits. He thanked the lord that his older Brother was out of town. Entrapta hopped back to the couch. And laid her own head on his shoulder. He stayed quiet, his pose stiffened, his breathing became heavier, his heart rate became more rapid. He hoped his heart wouldn’t jump out of his chest. He looked down on the resting angel woman, she was otherworldly, outstanding, absolutely gorgeous. He then turned to the screen of the television, and saw the movie starting. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be so bad. This could be fun.

Well, it would’ve been, if he didn’t spot his siblings spying on them through the living room window from the outside.

#entrapdak #entrapta #hordak #entrapdak month #entrapdak positivity month

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crazysnakey · 4 years

Text

She-Ra season 5 thoughts and reactions [Spoilers]

Adora’s Dreams???? Is she trying to reconnect her connection to She-ra or smth???

Of course everyone argues about the Heart of Etheria. How can they not

Okay so there was that awkward af dinner scene, but Horde Prime confronting Catra on her feelings for Adora is 👌👌👌

Catra going to meet Glimmer several times. I think we all expected that.

Everyone telling Adora she’s not She-Ra anymore and her feeling needing to be useful... AAAAAAA

When they tied up a clone and he just started blabbering about how Prime is great and all and they’re like “was hordak like this” and Scorpia straight up being like “nah he just said get out a lot” like even Scorpia anknowledges that Hordak was like an angsty emo teen boy

Everyone being like “WTF DO WE DO NOW ADORA ALWAYS MAKES THE PLANS UGH”

Entrapta... good old entrapta going apeshit over the tech

Horde Prime really does that huh? Not only does he destroy planets and take their food he keeps their treasures and stuff as his trophies

GLIMMER GO OFF YEAH DON’T LET HIM USE YOU

Horde Prime calling Catra little sister... 😟 hell no you bleached octopus

Scorpia’s impression of Entrapta is so funny like... “Yay! Science! Tech! *crazy hysterical laughing*

ENTRAPTA CAN YOU PLEASE NOT WALK INTO THE WAY OF GIANT DRONES AND BOTS PLEASE ITS A STEALTH MISSION

Mermista taking charge with Adora gone, go for it girl

Scorpia, i love you

“hooray! Oh I take back my hooray. Never mind I reinstate my hooray! Hooray!”

ENTRAPTA SAYING THAT SHE WORKS WITH TECH BETTER THAN PEOPLE AND SHE WANTED TO HELP THEM THRU TECH 😢😢

Those clones really pop out of nowhere huh? They’re just stationed everywhere huh? Like stormtroopers.

Shadow Weaver, you tsundere. You still have an attachment to Micah as your student

That one clone who’s neck just snapped and twisted (with all the great sound effects, yay!) 😨

Okay so Prime can see and talk thru all his clones... shoulda seen that coming

Hordak??? Hordak is that you

Catra straight up telling Hordak that it’s reassuring to see a familiar face even if they weren’t on the best of terms... 🥺

Is Hordak starting to remember?? Is he gonna remember Entrapta aaaaaaaaaaa come on pls

Adora taking them all to the place in her dream... wow somethings up y’all

UH WHERE IS MADAME RAZZ IN ALL THIS?????????

Going to save Glimmer... good luck y’all are seriously gonna need it

Micah pretending to be She-Ra was so funny I don’t know why

Oh so Prime can’t track First Ones tech... thank god

Wow remember when I said Hordak might be remembering?? Haha we just got the rug pulled out from under us

The Horde clones are a literal fucking cult and their chanting is seriously unnerving like wow Noelle props to making it unsettling

Aaaaaaaaand Hordak was reset again (in a weirder way too with that bathtub of whatever the fuck is in there) think he’ll somehow remember again? Entrapta my girl I’m counting on you

Entrapta naming the ship Darla... I’m getting Emily vibes

CATRA GETTING FLASHBACKS OF HER AND ADORA AS KIDS JUST RIP MY HEART OUT WHY DON’T YOU 🥺😭

Okay but does Prime have no cameras or anything??? He’s got clones and advanced tech but no cameras or scanners in his own ship?? Probably bc his clones are his cameras or smth

CATRA APOLOGIZING AND SAYING SHE WANTS TO DO SOMETHING GOOD WHEN SHE SAVES GLIMMER... WOAH 😭

They really gave us Swift Wind feels huh? They really did that to us

Scorpia saying that Kyle told her he has a crush on Rogelio... awww

The Star siblings are so sweet. Also Adora stop eating all their food

Bow just helping and protecting Glimmer even tho he’s still mad at her... 😊🥰

SHE-RA?!?!?????? She-ra is that you

Adora saying she wants to go back for Catra and that she needs her... 😭😭😭

One of the episodes is literally named “Save the Cat” like 😂😂😂

BRAINWASHED CATRA AAAAAA NO TF

Somehow I knew that Prime was probably gonna brainwash Catra but actually seeing it is something else

Okay but Wrong Hordak..., crying, no idea what to do, really innocent just trying his best don’t hurt him

So the clones and Prime use a hive mind... cool coolcoolcool

Horde Prime uses vessels??? He just jumps in from one body to the other??? He can do that??? Literally if he does that to any of the rebellion people I’ll drag him out of there with my bare hands

Excuse me??? Horde Prime knew the First Ones???? He destroyed them????? HORDE PRIME DESTROYED THE FIRST ONES WHAT

Adora fighting Catra,,,, AGAIN

Catra slowly remembering ONLY FOR PRIME TO SCREW IT UP AND INTERFERE THAT DIRTY PIECE OF-

New She-Ra form

NEW SHE-RA FORM AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA NEW CLOTHES NEW POWERS NEW SWORD

WHERE TF DID IT COME FROM THO???????

They better have a good explanation of this and not just some asspull don’t do us dirty that way

Then screwing over Horde Prime and wrecking his shit. NICE 👍👏👏👏

OH MY GOD HORDAK FINDING ENTRAPTA’S PINK “LUVD” CRYSTAL AND GOING “Entrapta?” OHHHHH BOY WE GON GET SOME NOW

Everyone on the ship just dealing with stuff. Wrong Hordak continues to be the nicest person yet.

Micah is so funny he’s just like I want some cake and Frosta’s like UGH and he’s just like “Do kids not like cake anymore???”

Elberon. Hoooo boy that was weird and fucked up. Goosebumps. Honestly they should’ve seen it from a mile away that something was up

AAAAAAAAAH SPINNERELLA NOOOOOOOO

Catra’s new hair without the helmet is really nice. Kinda like her past being cut away and moving towards the future. I see she’s back with draping herself all over Adora and annoying her

Secret Underwater Party Adventure literally what

Scorpia’s song ❤️💖❤️... hot DAMN girl you are AMAZING and VALID and I STAN YOU

Glad to see the underwater people are doing great in these trying times

That montage of people with a grudge against Sea Hawk and Mermista beating them up is so fucking funny like “ANYONE ELSE WHO’S BOAT YOU’VE SET ON FIRE??!?”

DOUBLE TROUBLE?!!??!1?!1!??!???

Ironically DT was lying when they said Adora’s in space with a sword fighting but they didn’t know that’s what’s actually happening asdfjdn

Oh my god Mermista have you been chipped too

Literally everyone has been chipped so I guess no one’s safe idk what I was think. ing. 🤷‍♀️

How do those chips even work?? Does someone just slap it on the back of someone’s neck and that’s it?

EVEN MICAH’S BEEN TAKEN CONTROL OF?!?

That’s one heck of an anniversary....

Okay, Krytis gives me Krypton vibes. Anyone else??? It’s a planet, some superbeing’s weakness, and the name. Also it’s like, destroyed/abandoned has no life on it

Catra and the gang with their antics... she’s clearly not used to their carefree improvising ... laughing ... awww 😊 ~

Castaspella where have YOU been the whole time??

“How is it we’ve lost so many fine members of the rebellion yet we’re still stuck with you?” WOW Not holding back anything huH

Castaspella why are you even still wearing those longass robes and that cape

MAGIC??!? THAT’S THE SECRET??? THAT- actually makes sense. Prime uses science and tech so magic is something that’s probably out of his depth

Someone get me a shapeshifting cat please Melog is so cool

Wrong Hordak you’ve found your own truth go for it you spunky little boi

“Brother, I hope you too are full of love for Horde Prime and have no crippling doubt eating at your soul” GOLD. COMEDY GOLD I TELL YOU

HORDAK REMEMBERING THE ENTRAPTA RAINBOW SCENE AAAAAAAA

That montage where Netossa lists everyone’s weaknesses is so funny, Catra’s just like “I’m different. I’m a real threat.” Then Netossa just. Sprays her with water. Like. Wow.

Even in this troubling time, dad jokes persist. This is awesome. George and Lance have their priorities sorted well. Bow is so done with it 😆

HORDE PRIME WAS THERE IN PERSON THE WHOLE TIME?!

Literally what?????????? The heart can be taken WITHOUT SHE-RA???? Horde Prime ain’t screwing around babeyyyyy

Scorpia.... don’t lose to it AAA 🥺🥺🥺 and Perfuma is so positive and does the Fairy Tail thing where she believe in her friends no matter what

Shadow Weaver, the only one using actual logical deduction in the team while everyone else panics and makes puns

Okay Shadow Weaver’s speech to Adora might sound cruel but it’s actually logical and truthful. She’s being honest.

ENTRAPDAK REUNION. YES. YESYES AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA MY SPOP OTP HAS RETURNED HORDAK STILL BEING ANGSTY

“YOUR IMPERFECTIONS ARE BEAUTIFUL” Entrapta you’re killin me

Glimmer’s first meeting with Micah and THIS is how it goes?!? Wow

“Adora it doesn’t always have to be you!!” That gives me so many feels bc it’s kinda true

CATRA STOP RUNNING AWAY FROM YOUR PROBLEMS DON’T DO THAT THIS TIME YOU’VE COME SO FAR NOW NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“Adora doesn’t want me! Not like I want her” number one that’s so sad, number two NO, number three GURL ADORA DOES WANT YOU BACK LIKE THAT SHE LOVES YOU

Entrapta girl, you can do it you spunky little gremlin

The memories,,, AaAAAaaaaaAAaAAAAA

Glimbowww!!!! Glimbow Glimbow Glimbow!

“You’re worth more that what you can give to other people. You deserve love too.” OH MY GOD THAT IS SUCH A GOOD AND POSITIVE MESSAGE TO GIVE NOT JUST TO ADORA BUT TO PEOPLE IN REAL LIFE

GLIMMER comin in to SAVE THE DAYAY and Seahawk ,, 🤣🤣🤣😂🤣😂😂😂 you’re the highlight of these moments I swear 😂🤣😂

“My oldest enemy”?? Does he mean She-Ra or the First Ones? also WHAT is that giant green tentacle monster

THE LITTLE ENTRAPTA LOGO ON HER SCANNERS AND TECH THAT IS SO CUTE

KYLE AND ROGELIO AND LONNIE ARE STILL TOGETHER AND THEY’VE ADOPTED IMP AWWWWW AAAAAA

George and Lance are so proud of their son ~

Shadow Weaver !!!!!!! AAAAA AND TAKING OFF THE MASK and then just. FUCKIN G DYING??!!!??? SHADOW WEAVER YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO GIVE ME THESE FEELS AT THE END

Double Trouble you little shit

Holee shit, THAT is the heart??? It looks like empty cubes or shapes or something...

GO HORDAK GO OFF

DID HE JUST KILL PRIME???? YES!!!

Oh shit, nevermind, they are a hive mind after all,,, ........ FUCK

CATRA GOING “I LOVE YOU I ALWAYS HAVE”

CATRADORA KISS

THEY GLOWED AND TURNED RAINBOW GAY RIGHTS

THEY PLAYED CATRA AND ADORA’S SOUNDTRACK IN THEIR BIG MOMENT

Hordak’s memory with baby Adora??? Like adorable????

ENTRAPDAK REUNION AAAAAAA THE HUG

“HI I’M DAD” WOW

ALL THE REUNIONS

Mermista’s just like slightly unsettled by Entrapdak. Begone Antis.

Literally Madame Razz have you been just walking around and dusting stuff

WHAT A BEAUTIFUL ENDING WHAT A GOOD WAY TO END THE SHOW HOLY SHIT WOW

All of my ships have become canon this season Catradora Glimbow Entrapdak Seamista thank you Noelle MY CROPS ARE WATERED MY SKIN CLEARED MY DEPRESSION CURED MY HOPE RESTORED THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO WORKED ON SPOP I AM BLESSED

#spop #she ra #my thoughts #she ra and the princesses of power #she ra season 5 #liveblog #wOW #text post #yeah #still im so happy for my ships #all the love confessions were so good like #I love you #WOW BEAUTIFUL #got nothing to lose so just spilling all the feelings out there huh

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hellofromthe-otter-slide · 5 years

Text

The Trial at Mystacor

Hi, everyone. I decided to make Repercussions into a chapter fic. How exciting.

Anyway, I really did actually want to continue this fic, and I have a few more ideas for some other chapters (something kind of Zuko Alone adjacent that follows Catra before she comes to Bright Moon, something in the future, etc), but, if there’s anything you want to see me write in this universe, send me an ask or a message and I’ll definitely try.

Anyway, back to the fic. Enjoy!

Read on AO3.

The Sorcerers' Council isn't what Catra expects them to be. The five sorcerers are old and young, men and women, a mix of Etherians and fae.

And all of them are looking at Catra like they're worried she might snap right here and now in the trial chambers.

All except one woman, the head sorceress, who doesn’t look at Catra at all. She addresses the room, and even as she talks about Catra and her crimes, their eyes never meet.

The trial begins by listing Catra's crimes.

Bombing the castle in the Kingdom of Snows and kidnapping Princess Glimmer and Bow.

The attempted siege of Bright Moon castle.

The destruction of the Whispering Woods.

Violence against villages acquired by the Horde.

Kidnapping Adora.

Opening a portal that almost lead to the destruction of Etheria.

The princesses all sit on either side of the Sorcerers’ Council, Glimmer and She-Ra the two middle points. Catra can read their expressions easily.

Most of them watch Catra with contempt and distrust, but Glimmer looks at Catra with disgust and contempt.

Catra guesses it’s because one of her crimes was left out of the list.

The portal was mentioned.

The fact that opening the portal led to Queen Angella’s death was not.

Catra sits quietly and waits to be asked to speak. She remembers a different trial and the speech she prepared for it, hoping to cut into Hordak before he inevitably had her killed.

She almost wishes Hordak would’ve killed her then. If he had done that, if he hadn’t sent her on a death mission to the Crimson Waste, if she had never overheard that conversation, she wouldn’t be here right now.

But Catra can’t think like that.

All of those things happened.

And now she’s standing trial before the Rebellion because of everything that followed.

And everything she did before.

She wonders what they’ll do to her. She doesn’t think they’re going to kill her, but she’s unsure what punishments the Rebellion even has. Will she live out her life in a cell? Will they banish her?

Will they execute her?

What’s going to happen to me?

The head sorceress draws something in the air, and Catra gets flashes of Shadow Weaver and red electricity and pain, so much pain.

The flashes don’t last long.

“This is a truth spell,” the head sorceress says, and the glowing circle washes over Catra with a flick of her hand, “You will now be compelled to answer all of our questions honestly.”

Catra nods.

It isn’t like she plans to lie anyway.

That’s not why she came here.

As explained at the start of the trial, each sorcerer on the council gets one question, and then the princesses each have the opportunity to ask one of their own.

The first sorcerer asks why Catra showed up at Bright Moon, and Catra starts to feel like a broken record, repeating the same thing she’s fairly certain she told every single member of the Princess Alliance.

The second asks if Catra knew the consequences of opening the portal.

“I did,” Catra answers, ducking her head, “Entrapta told me herself what could happen, but I stunned her, threatened Scorpia, and did it anyway.”

The room is quiet for just a few moments before Catra hears a rise in murmurs.

The next sorcerer waits for it to quiet down before asking the next question.

Why?

Catra looks up, and instead of looking at the sorcerer who asked, she looks at She-Ra.

She hates She-Ra.

She tried to destroy She-Ra so many times she lost count.

She-Ra is Adora, and Adora used to be the only person she knew she could count on.

She-Ra doesn’t look back at her.

Catra doesn’t want to answer, and she stays quiet for as long as she can, but the truth spell starts to do its work, and everything she never wanted to say starts getting harder and harder to hold back.

“I did it, because I couldn’t let Adora win,” Catra spits out, the words ripped out by the truth spell, “Shadow Weaver came back for Adora, and then Entrapta told me that Adora was right about the portal, and I saw red. I needed to win. I needed to prove that I could beat her, that I was better than her, so I pulled the lever.”

Catra can’t look at She-Ra now, not with that truth so out in the open.

“I didn’t care what happened to Etheria as long as I was its destroyer,” Catra ends, and she looks up at the Sorcerers’ Council, her tail flicking uncomfortably.

They look at her like she’s a monster.

She knows she is.

The room is dead silent before the next sorceress clears her throat and asks something unexpected.

She asks about Catra’s relationship to Shadow Weaver, but she calls her Light Spinner.

It takes Catra a moment to respond.

How is she supposed to explain her relationship with Shadow Weaver?

She doesn’t know.

Even still, the truth spell does its work.

“She raised me,” Catra answers, “I don’t remember being raised by anyone else.”

That’s all Catra has to say. She doesn’t know if she can explain it any more than that.

The four sorcerers on the council turn to the head sorceress and wait for her question.

She looks at Catra with obvious hatred, and Catra wonders what she’s done to warrant such specific disdain. Everyone else watches her carefully, like they don’t know when she might turn and bring the entire Horde marching up Mystacor’s cliffs.

The head sorceress, though, she looks at Catra with hatred and disgust.

“My brother, King Micah, was trained by Light Spinner,” the head sorceress says, and even with that little bit of information, Catra understands.

This woman is Queen Angella’s sister-in-law.

Catra looks to Glimmer and notices the mirrored look of hatred and wishes for the millionth time that she never pulled that lever.

That she never left the Crimson Waste.

That she left with Adora when she had the chance.

“She wanted him to be her perfect student,” the head sorceress continues, “She trained him because she saw promise in him. She thought that they could rule side by side.”

Just like Adora, Catra thinks.

“She seeks power to steal it. She knew Micah was a powerful sorcerer. She sensed She-Ra in Adora, so why did she pick you?”

Catra’s eyes go wide, and she shrinks into herself just slightly.

Useless, she hears in her head, the voice sounding all too much like Shadow Weaver, Absolutely worthless.

She can’t help the tears that spring to her eyes, and she does everything possible to keep them in.

She may have turned herself in, and she plans to atone, but she will not cry in front of the Sorcerers’ Council and the entire Princess Alliance.

So, she deflects.

“I wish I could tell you,” Catra says, trying her hardest to sound unaffected, “To Shadow Weaver I was nothing. I was a nuisance, something she had to keep around because her star pupil had grown attached to it, and she treated me as much. She used me over and over again, no matter how many times I tried to gain her approval.”

That doesn’t seem to satisfy the head sorceress. She looks like she was expecting a different answer, something to show how this seemingly worthless girl almost became Etheria’s killer.

She wasn’t expecting me to just be me, Catra thinks, She was expecting me to be another one of Shadow Weaver’s proteges. She was expecting me to be something special.

And now, the floor is open to the princesses.

They don’t have to ask questions, but they can if they want to, and unsurprisingly, they want to.

Scorpia stands quickly, her chair rattling just slightly, and asks Catra why they couldn’t have run from the Horde when they had the chance.

Catra sighs.

“Because I was happy,” Catra smiles at Scorpia, her best friend, the person who somehow still has faith in her, which is a miracle, all things considered, “I can’t remember feeling so happy, but there was something missing.”

Catra’s glad that Scorpia can only ask that one question, because she knows that the follow-up would be to ask what was missing.

She doesn’t expect Glimmer to stand and ask that very question.

Catra fights the truth spell, she tries to lie, but she can’t.

Of course she can’t.

“Adora,” Catra says, her voice strangled from trying to keep it in, “Adora was missing.”

A few of the princesses turn and look at She-Ra, but She-Ra finally looks at Catra.

To Catra, She-Ra is a completely different person, but those eyes, so clear and blue and tied to so many of Catra’s happy memories, those are all Adora.

The head sorceress commands Catra to elaborate, and Catra doesn’t even know that’s allowed, but she’s compelled to.

“All my life, I thought Adora and I were going to rule Etheria together.” Catra doesn’t even fight it anymore. She just lets it all spill out. “Adora would lead the Horde, and I’d be her second-in-command, and nothing could stop us. And then she became She-Ra, and she left without thinking. She left me with only a half-assed plea to come with her.”

Spinerella stands, and she’s kind as she asks why Catra didn’t go.

“She explained to me how she finally saw that what the Horde was doing was evil, how she couldn’t come back after what she saw in Thaymor.” Catra wants to look up, to say this to She-Ra, to Adora, but she can’t.

She says it to the ground.

“She saw strangers suffering and decided to go. She saw what happened to me for years and never suggested leaving.”

She doesn’t have to elaborate. Apparently that answer is good enough for the truth spell.

Nobody asks what happened to Catra growing up.

She doesn’t know if she would be able to keep it together if they did.

She-Ra stands, and the room goes silent.

And then she’s not She-Ra anymore. She’s Adora.

“Before you came to Bright Moon, you said you went to Half Moon and Madame Razz was there,” Adora says, her voice echoing off the high ceilings in the silence of the room, “What did she say to you to get you to come here?”

“She needs you now more than ever, C’yra.”

“She told me about the Magicats,” Catra says, hoping that it’s good enough so that she can hide the rest, “She told me that they were the first Etherian species the First Ones built a bond with, and because of that, the Magicats were highly advanced, far more than many of the other kingdoms.”

Apparently, it’s not enough, because Catra continues talking.

“She-Ra has always had some sort of connection with the queens of Half Moon. They were always allies, but more often than not, they would form strong friendships.”

“You mentioned that she called you C’yra,” Adora continues, and Catra knows that they are officially breaking custom, because Adora asks, “Who is C’yra?”

“The queen of Half Moon during Mara’s time as She-Ra,” Catra answers, though she wonders whether the truth spell has worn off, because she doesn’t feel obligated to answer.

She wants to.

“And her and Mara were allies.” It's not really a question.

“Adora—” Glimmer says, looking worriedly up at the Sorcerers’ Council, but Adora puts her hand up, cutting Glimmer off from whatever warning she was about to voice.

“Close friends, actually,” Catra says, “Madame Razz mentioned that Mara was often the voice of reason in their friendship while C’yra tended to be pretty hot-headed.”

“And the rest of the Magicats?”

Catra knows that Adora already knew the answer. Catra told her as much when Adora questioned her in the cell at Bright Moon.

“Destroyed by the Horde to gain territory,” Catra explains without emotion, trying not to think of the people she could have had, the life she could have had, “From what Hordak told me, they slaughtered everyone and took me for some reason.”

Adora sits, seemingly out of questions, and Catra breathes a sigh of relief that she didn’t have to talk about the other half of her and Razz’s conversation.

“Yes, She-Ra needs her Magicat queen, but more importantly, Mara needs you, C’yra.”

The head sorceress asks if anyone has any final questions, and when there is nothing more to be asked, Catra is taken out of the chambers and back to her cell deep in Mystacor’s cellars.

~*~

Catra sits in her cell waiting for the Princess Alliance and Sorcerers’ Council to come to a decision. She doesn’t have much to do, so she imagines them all in a room coming up with punishments for all of her crimes, each thing worse than the last. She imagines them saying,

No, no, that’s not good enough,

and coming up with something better, something more fitting for every awful thing Catra has ever done.

At some point, without meaning to, she falls asleep.

Catra is back in the Fright Zone.

She’s curled up at the foot of Adora’s bed, and everything is fine until she hears a scream.

It’s Adora.

She shoots up in bed and looks around herself, ready to defend her and Adora if she needs to.

The thing is, Adora is looking at her with fear in her eyes.

Adora has never been afraid of her.

“What?” Catra asks,“What is it?”

“Catra,” Adora shakes as she reaches out for Catra, “What happened to you?”

“What are you talking about?”

It’s then that Catra hears it.

Her voice.

It sounds distorted and almost electronic.

It sounds like it did when Catra came back from the portal corrupted.

She runs to the locker room connected to the barracks and looks in the mirror.

She flinches back.

It’s not just part of her face and her arm. The black engulfs most of Catra’s body. Her normally-mismatched eyes were deep pits, and only bits and pieces of orange fur and her mane stuck out.

“No,” she says, reaching up to run her hands over her face, “No, this can’t be right. This went away when the portal closed.”

The Catra in the mirror smiled maliciously. “This will never go away” she says, her voice even more distorted than Catra’s own, “The portal didn’t do this to us. This has always been inside of you.”

Catra sinks to her knees and starts clawing at her face, whispering, “No,” over and over again to herself.

“We’re a monster, you know,” Mirror Catra says, and Catra looks up to see that her mirror version no longer just exists in the mirror. She walks up to Catra. “We will always be a monster.”

“I’m not,” Catra breathes out desperately, “I’m not a monster.”

“You are,” Mirror Catra says like it’s simple, “There’s no point in fighting it anymore.”

Mirror Catra looks past her, and when Catra turns around, there’s She-Ra looking at her with regret and anger.

“One day She-Ra will have to kill us,” Mirror Catra says from behind her, “She won’t have any other choice.”

She-Ra pulls her sword from her back, “I’m so sorry, Catra.”

“Adora, no—”

She-Ra’s sword slices through the air and—

A loud noise against the bars of Catra’s cell startles her awake. Her hands immediately go to her face, her nightmare still playing over and over again in her head.

Someone clears their throat.

It’s Adora, and Catra doesn’t need to know Adora well to know the look on her face.

Well, this can’t be good.

“So,” Catra says, curling up in the bed, “They sent you down to give the verdict?”

“Not exactly,” Adora looks anywhere but at Catra, “Sending me wouldn’t follow Mystacor’s trial protocol.”

“Just like asking all those questions.”

Adora looks at Catra then, and she just nods.

“So, why are you down here then?”

Adora sighs, and to Catra’s surprise, she sits down on the other side of the bars.

“I don’t know.”

Catra thinks about going to sit across from her, but the bed feels safe. The bed isn’t right across from her best friend growing up, the person she told everything to, the person she thought she would always have.

The person who asked her to run away.

The person she felt she had to best for the longest time.

So, Catra stays on the bed and doesn’t say anything else.

She knows Adora will fill the quiet.

“They finally let us out, and everyone went back to their rooms, but for some reason, I felt like I needed to come here," Adora tries to explain.

“The guards just let you in?” Catra asks, wondering just how strict security is here.

“Well, yeah,” Adora smiles, and Catra’s heart breaks just a bit, because this is the first time that Adora has smiled at her since Adora left the Horde, “I’m She-Ra.”

Catra laughs softly, “That must get you anything you want.”

“Within reason, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Catra repeats softly.

There are a few beats of silence before Catra notices Adora watching her carefully, like she’s trying to figure something out.

“Are you okay?” Adora asks, “When I came in, you were thrashing in your sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

“Catra—”

“You don’t have to care about me,” Catra cuts Adora off and looks away from her, “Not after everything I’ve done.”

“I’ve always cared about you, Catra,” Adora says, “Even when you stayed with the Horde, or when you attacked Bright Moon, or pulled the lever to open the portal.”

“Why?” Catra asks, the word barely coming out around tears threatening to spill over.

“Because you’re my best friend,” Adora says earnestly, “Even if you don’t see me that way anymore, I never stopped thinking of you as mine.”

“But Glimmer,” Catra whispers, “And Bow.”

“I love them,” Adora says, “And they’ve helped me through so much. I can’t imagine my life without them, but you?” Adora smiles again, this time smaller, like Adora is remembering nights in the Fright Zone whispering to one another and pranks pulled on their instructors. “I don’t really know how to explain it.”

Catra understands. No matter how close she got to Scorpia, how content she felt with the people surrounding her, being around them never felt the same way as being around Adora.

“How can you still care after everything I’ve done?” Catra looks down and squeezes her eyes shut, “After everything I’ve put you through?”

Adora doesn’t say anything right away, and Catra doesn’t look up.

“Yes, you’ve done some awful things,” Adora finally says, “You won’t be gaining the favor of anyone in the Rebellion anytime soon, but I don’t think you’re irredeemable, Catra. You’ve finally admitted that everything you did was your choice and nobody’s fault but yours. Now you just need to realize that there are people who want to see you be better, not for them, but for yourself.”

Catra thinks of Scorpia and her never-ending belief in Catra. She thinks of Entrapta saving her life.

And then there’s Adora right in front of her, telling her she never lost faith in Catra, even if Catra did.

Catra doesn’t look up, though. She doesn’t know what to say.

Adora leaves after a few moments of silence, and only then does Catra let herself cry.

She cries because of the things she’s done.

The people she’s hurt.

And because somehow, Adora still cares.

~*~

It takes Mystacor’s Sorcerers’ Council and the Princess Alliance three days to determine Catra’s fate.

Three long days of Catra all alone in her cell after Adora’s visit.

She’s brought back into the trial chambers and stood before the sorcerers and princesses.

The head sorceress stands.

“Force Captain Catra,” the head sorceress says directly to her, and Catra is surprised that they even thought to refer to her as that title, “After deliberating your fate, the Sorcerers’ Council and the Princess Alliance have agreed on your sentence.”

Catra looks at She-Ra, this time sat right beside Glimmer, and She-Ra nods just enough that Catra notices.

“For your crimes, you’ll be banished to the Crimson Waste,” the head sorceress says, “You can never return to the Rebellion.”

They have to know, Catra thinks, They have to know that the Crimson Waste isn’t a wasteland. Someone in the Princess Alliance has to have mentioned it. How can they not know?

“Does anyone object to the sentence given?” the head sorceress asks the room.

No one objects.

She nods and looks back down to Catra. “You will leave immediately.”

The guards escort Catra out of the chambers, and she goes without a fight, but her thoughts are spiraling.

What if this is all just a trick? Are they just going to execute me out there where no one can see? What are they—

“Wait!” comes from behind them, cutting off Catra’s thoughts.

The guards turn, and Adora runs up to them.

“Can I have a moment?” she asks the guards.

They nod but don’t leave.

“Alone?”

They look at each other, and then down at Adora again.

Adora scoffs. “I can handle her if she tries to run.”

Then, somehow, the guards let go of Catra and move far enough away that they can still see Catra and Adora but they won’t be able to hear.

“Adora, how—”

“Mystacor still thinks the Crimson Waste is completely deserted,” Adora says quickly, “And I convinced the rest of the Alliance not to tell them otherwise. There was no other option.”

“But why?”

“Because Scorpia mentioned you could have been happy there,” Adora says, a small ghost of a smile on her lips, “She said within a day, you became the new leader of the Waste, so I think you’ll do just fine.”

“What was the other option?”

Catra sees something in Adora’s eyes for just a moment before she waves Catra’s question off and says, “That doesn’t matter now.”

Catra can guess what that means.

Execution.

It would’ve been the Rebellion’s first in many, many years.

“I just wanted to say goodbye,” Adora adds on quickly, “Before they take you to the Crimson Waste.”

Catra smiles just barely, “Bye, Adora.”

Adora smiles sadly, “Bye, Catra.”

~*~

A few Bright Moon guards escort Catra as far into the Waste as they’re willing to go before they leave her with nothing.

Red sand stretches for miles, and unlike the last time Catra was banished here, she feels hope instead of defeat.

This is the place she needs to be right now.

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reynesofcastamere · 4 years

Text

People Try To Break

(A/N:All right, so it’s been...a WHILE since I last wrote fanfiction, much less published it. *cracks fingers* However Season 4 hit me with Too Many Damned Sad Feelings for these two characters and I have to get them out somehow. In collected one-shot ‘what if?’ scenario form. Thanks to remi-bw for calculating the Beast Island timeline on my previous post. WARNINGS: Violence, brainwashing, character death, Horde Prime, chronic illness and injury. Unbeta’d. )

(BAD END I)

Everything is in ashes. But Hordak will have this: the satisfaction of crushing his enemy’s skull beneath-A blast of pain, accompanied by acrid smoke and a BANG! that makes his ears ring. The makeshift club is torn from his grip, glowing eyes already seeking out the source of this intrusion- who dares, he will grind them into dust for...

Lord Hordak, Supreme Leader of the Horde, former right hand of the Emperor of the Known Universe does not even register the child who shot him, transfixed by the mass of writhing violet swarming out of the pipe. He cannot breathe, even as a form emerges from beneath all that hair and oh, he cannot see her face from this distance but he knows it with every fibre of his being- “Entrapta?” A whisper, uncertain and weak, legs moving of their own volition.

The light around him turns green after three steps, arresting his forward motion. Horde Prime is here at last. Yet he feels...terror. Please. Not now. I have to speak to her, she needs to know- “ENTRAPTA!” A hand reaches out uselessly, desperately in her direction, as if hoping against all logic and sense to close the gap between them. Too late. Darkness and Prime’s technology take him under.

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(BAD END II)

Hordak had dreamed of standing before his brother with pride -all of this, I have accomplished in your name- next to the woman whose brilliance had made it possible. Instead he is damaged, dirty and on his knees while Entrapta lies unconscious among the rubble that was transported with them. He explains everything, but there is no flicker of gratitude or admiration on his Emperor’s face. Horde Prime seems...mildly amused, at best. At least until Hordak, in his growing anxiety to prove his worth, fails. The temperature in the room has not changed, and yet his insides are frozen.

Prime steps down from his throne to rifle through Hordak’s memories like a box of useless scrap. It feels...wrong in a way that it should not. He is a clone, the rightful property of the Emperor. Nothing can -or should- be hidden from His gaze. And yet there are moments flashing through his head that some part of him does not want Horde Prime to see. Because they are...special. “-There was even a time you wished I would not come for you. Is that not so?”

He protests in vain even as his Creator moves to stand over Entrapta’s prone form, lifting her up by the scruff of her neck. Stunned into silence, Hordak watches his brother examine the Etherian scientist as he once had-A backwater primitive with some shred of actual intelligence.

“Such an extraordinary mind... For a lesser species. A pity it cannot be utilized in service of my Empire.”

“What?” Surely he must have misheard. Then a smirk that can only be described as cruel quirks Prime’s lips and dread is a jagged stone in the pit of his stomach. “Poor little brother, so easily led astray. You truly thought that you served My will, that I would allow your pet to spread heresy. That you have even given yourself a name proves you have become an abomination.” His Emperor is no longer composed or pretending at benevolence, radiating sheer rage at the presumptive defect before Him. “You must be reborn.” His hand closes around Entrapta’s throat.

Hordak’s body does not-cannot- obey his will, despite how fast his heart is racing. He pleads, begs, grovels like the worthless creature he is, all for the wretched hope of saving her. The one being in the entire universe who truly made him...complete. The sound her neck makes when it snaps is deafening in his ears, her killer dropping her lifeless body to the floor seconds later.

An anguished howl rips through the air as the monster approaches once more. Unable to lash out, blinded by hatred and tears, he does not even realize what is happening. There is pain and then...Nothingness.

Three days later, clone HK-001 still exhibits near-constant ocular discharge despite successful reconditioning. No cause is determined, and the Empire does not waste resources on defects. HK-001′s termination is carried out efficiently, while the conquest of Etheria begins in earnest. A small creature with no voice of its’ own looks up at the stars and the massive fleet that nearly blots them out, clutching an engraved crystal in its’ hands. Waiting.

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(GOOD END I)

Horde Prime is dead.

Princess Entrapta of Dryl claims his body, empire, and army by right of conquest. There isn’t much left of the first by the time she finishes experimenting with it, but the treasure trove of data provided is invaluable to the field of xenobiology. And to the new Empress’s Consort. Who loves her very much and made that perfectly clear once they’d gotten past the post-fight sex in the throne room and the temporary awkwardness that followed.

She’s got fleets full of new and fascinating technology, infinite galaxies to explore, masses of clones to study; (Watching them adjust to the idea of individuality is fascinating, there’s already an entire ship’s crew who started wearing maroon after spending an afternoon with Scorpia.) Her Lab Partner is right there with her, working on projects, trading theories and ideas even while lying in bed with Imp curled up in her hair and Emily in sleep mode in the corner.

Some of her friends don’t quite...understand her choices, but they also don’t have the power or authority to stop her anymore. That they’re still her friends after a regicide means a lot, even if the bi-monthly Princess Meetings involve a lot of dirty looks being thrown in Hordak’s direction. Which he ignores. Pointedly. Without breaking anything, even! Which she definitely needs to check off on her progress list for Social Experiment 51-B. Life, in the simplest possible terms, is ‘good’. Entrapta intends to keep it that way. Besides, a being who couldn’t accept that imperfections and accidents were what allowed scientific progress and the driving principles of the universe to move forward was far better off as a test subject.

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(GOOD END II)

Hordak freezes at the sight of the apparent ‘ghost’ for only a moment before rage draws him back into its’ black, razor-edged pit. The rebel archer miscalculates and winds up dangling by his neck in a choking grip. “You DARE to use that shapeshifter’s tricks?” He snarls, eyes practically emitting heat from sheer force of will alone. “What -hgk- do you-?”

“Do not LIE to me. Entrapta is dead.” They will regret this decision, for he will wring out their apologies along with their screams for mercy. But first. “And you are delaying my extermination of her murderer.” Catra will pay. For every action she had done, every lie told, every second of time she wasted while Entrapta was sent and abandoned to die on Beast Island. (It has been five Etherian seven-day units of time. No sentient being could have survived that long.) His grasp is suddenly surrendered when Double Trouble uses the existing rope-line and their imitation prehensile hair to swing down and tackle him to the ground. The attempts he makes at ripping the face off of this pretender end with his wrists bound above his head, growling in impotent fury.

“Hordak! I found the First Ones’ database at the centre of Beast Island! It’s a technological wonder-pure information buried in the midst of a sentient hazardous waste disposal site that slowly paralyzes and consumes any being exposed to it.” A pause for breath is accompanied by a tiny shudder that most people...probably wouldn’t notice. “Anyway, Bow and Adora showed up in a spaceship-I totally need to study it properly later- and I rescued them even though they were supposed to be rescuing me, there was this weird guy who ate bugs and oh! I made a new friend. She’s really great and didn’t have any problems with me sitting in her mouth.” Entrapta tilts her head at him, looking mildly confused and then hesitant. “You...really didn’t abandon me?” The question is quiet, a complete departure from her energetic explanations. She seems almost scared of what his answer might be, hair releasing his wrists now that he’s stopped struggling.

Hordak is stricken, tears welling in his eyes as he carefully sits up. He didn’t notice the changes in her appearance before, the indications that she couldn’t possibly be the form-changing mercenary. If this is another lie, and he is about to be killed for believing it, then he no longer cares. His fingers slowly, gently caress the hair along her scalp. “No. Never.” He’s never known her to be particularly fond of touching people with any part of her body aside from her hair...Yet they wind up with her arms around his shoulders and his around her waist. “I have been an utter fool.” Hordak murmurs, the upper half of his face resting against her left shoulder. “Believing you were a traitor from the start. Catra is a proven liar, and you...” The words catch in his throat for a moment. He has never done this before. Had neither wanted nor needed to until now. With her. “Entrapta. I need you.” Somehow he gathers the courage to meet her eyes and finds them as moist as his, but she also looks...pleased?

Entrapta sniffles. “I kind of gave up on you while I was imprisoned. Bow offered me some good advice, though.” She smiles, even if it’s a touch shaky. “Hey, we’re both imperfect, right? Just means we need to keep working on it.” She considers the question a success when he laughs softly and smiles at her in turn, their foreheads coming to rest against one another. Hm. His armor is missing the central crystal. She’ll have to ask about that, locate it, and tell him what the writing on it translates to. She loves him too, and he deserves to know it as an absolute proven fact. In time, they’ll rebuild what is broken (The Fright Zone is a mess, for starters.). When nothing arrives to block out the stars, no further attempts to contact Horde Prime are made. They have enough to keep them busy for a very long time. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(A/N: In Bad End II Entrapta is unconscious the whole time because I am a firm believer that she is capable of murdering him in 2.5 seconds. Especially if he has the alien equivalent of a jugular or carotid artery. So originally I was going to add reactions from Bow and Glimmer in Good End II buuuuut this is already decently long and their dialogue would have boiled down to Bow quietly squeeing, Glimmer going WTF?!, Entrapta being cheerfully blunt and Hordak scowling because You’re Interrupting A Moment, Godsdamnit. Horde Prime accidentally flew into a black hole or something, IDK. One last thing. I’ve never written a neurodivergent character (coded or otherwise), so if I have butchered Entrapta’s character and/or written something that is offensive; I deeply apologize and will look to correct this if provided with constructive criticism.)

#entrapdak #sorry for starting with sad stuff but I wanted this to have a happy ending #Horde Prime is his own f*cking trigger warning lbh

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prince-toffee · 4 years

Text

Infinity

“Well, that concludes our meeting,” Queen Angella clapped her hands together and rose up from her throne, “I only hope our next session will be as efficient as today’s one. We’re making great progress.” Angella’s words were genuine, she was impressed how fast things were moving. All the kingdoms working hand in hand to repair the damage done by Prime’s invasion.

The rest of the Princesses gathered around the war table rose up with her and bowed in respect. Angella saw a few tense faces. Some were still getting used to the fact she came back from the dead. Both Alliance and Horde states shook hands and left, now that Hordak, Weaver and Prime were presumed dead, all the kingdom states previously supported by the Horde economy, usually poorer lands, fell on their knees and reached out to BrightMoon for aid.

All of Etheria united against a common threat, defeated it together and through that realisation the bonds grew stronger. Funny to think a mere thirty years ago, before the Horde, the Princesses couldn’t stand each other, leaping at each other’s throats.

It was amazing how well her and Hordak’s deal worked out.

Sure her temporary death, was a set back, so was the arrival of Horde Prime. Hordak reassured her that the portal had no possibility of working with the lack of advanced materials on the planet. However, the two of them didn’t count on the unpredictable variable that was, Entrapta of Dryl. Or that Angella’s disappearance due to the crisis engaged by Catra, would led her daughter Glimmer to guide Prime directly to the shadow dimension.

Luckily, Hordak and Entrapta managed to bring her back. And with the help of Shadow Weaver they managed to imprison Prime, out of sight. Through dark magic Weaver found out about the deal struck and so inserted herself into the equation, always looking for a seat of power. Hordak of course brought Entrapta into the fold, being the hopeless romantic that he was. He also recommended for Catra to play apart in all of it. He said she was smart, a fast learner, a strategist and deep down, he knew she was a better person than any of them. Angella begrudgingly accepted, but in turn decided to advocate for her own addition, Glimmer. In Angella’s absence, her daughter became a quite capable general. None had objections.

And so there were six.

Angella made her way to her throne room and ordered her throne guards to leave and allow no one in, no matter the clearance level. And she locked the doors behind them. She sat down on her throne, pressing her palm against the chair arm, which scanned and verified that it was her. The floor under Angella opened and the throne descended down.

The angel queen made her way through the dark sub-level corridor. It wasn’t even on the castle schematics for safety and security. Where she was greeted by a disembodied voice from the shadows, “Meeting ran late?”

“Don’t be absurd, I’m only five minutes, twenty-three seconds late... Why are you not waiting in the sub-level conference room with the others?” Angella asked the hovering Shadow Weaver, who simply shrugged.

“Call me paranoid. I wish, simply, to enter with the great Queen Angella, making sure none of you set a trap for me. Remember, I cou-” Weaver was interrupted by Angella.

“We know. No trap. Now, come on.” Angella knew that Shadow Weaver had the ability to undo the entire secrecy of their group. Being the powerful sorceress that she was, she could’ve simply revealed them in the minds of every person on the planet. But working from behind the curtain was what made them successful, so they had to keep a close eye on the witch. Well, she had an eye on every member.

Angella pushed open a pair of doors and revealed the other four members already in their chairs. The war table paralleling the one multiple levels above them, the one Angella was just in. Hordak and Entrapta didn’t even notice them walk in, the two partners simply continued with their theory sharing. Opposite them Glimmer and Catra bowed for Angella’s presence, side eyeing Shadow Weaver as she sat across from Angella on the other end.

“Alright everyone! If I may have your attention!” She didn’t ask as much as she ordered it. All the heads faced her in focus. Angella began, “Thank you, I suppose this is in a way the first true meeting of this... team, I suppose we can call it. You were all chosen to sit here, because you have showcased virtues and qualities befitting of a leader, if necessary... a mastermind. Hordak and Shadow Weaver presumed dead, and the rest viewed as war heroes - the public trusts us. Let us keep it that way. We sit here today, because we are the ones going to forge tomorrow, from behind the stage, for better... or for worse. That’s on us... Hordak.”

She turned her head to the alien and nodded as a sign for him to start his brief, “First order of business and highest priority is that of my brother. And his trial. This council will decide his fate. At the moment Horde Prime is kept on Beast Island under the influence of the island and further imprisonment of the Obtainment Spell, curtesy of Shadow Weaver.”

Weaver smiled under her mask, proud of her magical capabilities, folding her arms across her chest. Entrapta shared the cheerfulness, happy she was allowed to study the properties of the island and ultimately control it.

“I say we leave him there. Sounds to fine to me.” Catra was quick to make her decision known.

“Death. The safer option.” Glimmer stated countering Catra’s solution aggressively. She had no patience for Prime, knowing that Etheria could’ve been another world subjugated by his galactic empire, and she was partly to blame for his arrival. “Just let Adora hack his head off, problem solved.”

“She-Ra isn’t apart of this council.” Angella stated.

“Well, maybe she should be. I mean come on, it’s Adora! Where are you gonna find a better, more pure-hearted, person in the universe? Being good is sort of her whole deal.” Catra agreed with Glimmer’s proposal of bring their girlfriend into the fold.

“Adora is busy enough being the face of Etheria. A face the people can trust. Let’s not give the world a reason to loose that faith... And the girl can’t keep a secret to save her life.” Shadow Weaver dismissed the possibility of that option.

Angella followed on, “And killing Prime might not be the best decision either.”

Hordak returned to his holo-pad, which he wired to the war table. With a swipe of his finger upwards on the screen, the hologram display on the table lit up. A strange image came up, they didn’t know what they were looking at, “It is true. We might need to question him, see if he has any kind of knowledge or insight about these... objects. Since Entrapta and me cannot figure this out.”

Entrapta waved off dismissively at the idea with her hair, “Oh, please, we don’t need his help! We got it covered! He’s an idiot! And we’re a team! He doesn’t have the answers, I bet he couldn’t figure out the precise value of pi if it bit him in the hair!”

“You can figure out what pie is?” Catra arched her brow in confusion.

“What are they... Rune Stones? They look smaller.” Glimmer questioned, looking at the holo-display.

“Possibly of the same origin, that being the First Ones, but they are infinitely more powerful. Any bounds or limitations are yet unknown to us. Whatever these... gems are, they’re more powerful than any weapon I have encountered across my voyages throughout the universe.” Hordak claimed as multiple notes and graphs appeared on the display, most of which didn’t make any sense to the others.

“So what’s the plan?” Glimmer asked.

“The plan is there’s six of us.” Angella stated as she pressed one of her earrings, which lit up, simultaneously a silver briefcase immerged from the underneath Angella’ s seat. The other five exchanged looks between each other. Shadow Weaver and Entrapta seemed more enthusiastic and on board, whereas the girls and Hordak became more worried.

With two clicks the case opened, revealing inside six different coloured stones. Afterwards, none of them quite remembered or understood what happened. But each member proceeded to take a stone, almost as if the stones themselves spoke to each of them, mesmerised, hypnotised them. The gems guided the hands of their future wielders.

Angella reached for the Time Stone.

Hordak took the Reality Stone.

Entrapta received the Space Stone.

Shadow Weaver was given the Mind Stone.

Catra acquired the Power Stone.

Glimmer grasped the Soul Stone.

“Now what?” The magicat asked, firmly holding the ingot of Power.

Angella answered, “We safeguard it. Destroy it, if necessary, but ultimately, for now, let us see what good we may do behind the scenes.”

Hordak pocketed away his stone into one of his compartments in his new suit, “...Then we should have a code in case of emergencies... Since I have been studying the history logs from Horde Prime’s capital, learning about my people’s culture - I feel like I found a word to incapsulate our council. An ancient term, roughly translating to ‘one who is illusive, and enlightened’:

Illuminati.”

#spop #she ra #angella #hordak #entrapta #shadow weaver #catra #glimmer #infinity stones #short fic #idk thought it was fun

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