#blade tw

Visual cues

A visual cue is essentially a shorthand that serves to draw the audience’s attention towards something without being heavy-handed about it or taking up a lot of time. Here’s a few examples of how it can be done: We’ve all watched Avatar: The Last Airbender, right? Then you probably remember how that show emphasizes different sides of Zuko’s face depending on the phase of his character development. His scar is emblematic of his father’s abuse, so putting it front and center is a clear indicator that he’s acting from a place of hurt as opposed to growing past it. Another story that puts a lot of accent on abusive dynamics is Tangled (2010). Here Mother Gothel is shown being overly affectionate with Rapunzel’s hair, in contrast to Eugene pushing the hair away so he can see more of her face. Since the hair in question has cool magical powers, you can deduce just from that which character cares about her as a whole person and which one only values her for the parts they can use.

SatPoP does not fall behind in the abuse-related imagery department. I’ll start with the cheek touch, since the show uses this one a lot. …like, a lot a lot.

Shadow Weaver practically owns the cheek touch, though Horde Prime’s never been deterred by things already belonging to someone else. It can be roughly sorted into two varieties: the “nice” and the “mean”. “Nice” means the abuser is hiding behind a veneer of benevolence and leveraging the victim’s deepest desires in exchange for obedience. Adora yearns to prove herself, so Shadow Weaver allows her the opportunity. Catra yearns to be loved, so Shadow Weaver gives her a taste of that. Glimmer yearns to save her people — well what do you know, Shadow Weaver can help here too! It’s giving “I will grant you whatever you want, but only as long as you behave”.

Then there’s the “mean” variety, when all masks are off except for the literal one. If in previous examples the victim either had the option to refuse or just didn’t mind, then this time the parties are in open conflict, and the abuser blatantly flaunts the fact that they’re in a position of power by forcing their victim to experience unwanted physical contact. It’s giving “I will take whatever I want from you, and there’s nothing you can do about that”.

And Catra hasn’t only been on the receiving end of this message.

Which brings us to these proxy cheek touches. What Double Trouble and Horde Prime have in common is that they understand Catra — whether it’s because they’ve peered into every nook and cranny of her mind or because they’re just that good. Therefore they know what the dynamic between her and Adora is like, and they act on that knowledge by making Catra cup her cheek. Why? While “to tease her about her crush” is a popular interpretation for… obvious reasons, this reading ignores larger context. Sure, in any other show this kind of touch might've been prime shipping fuel, but in SatPoP’s language it nearly always translates to manipulation and power play. Double Trouble says “you pushed her away”; the gesture adds “by making her feel lesser”. Horde Prime says “you can’t save her”; the gesture adds “remember what happened when you tried”.

But hold on a sec, why “nearly” always?

One exception is Angella. She’s not quite playing by the rules here, and the reason is simple: cheek touch, like I said, is as good as trademarked by Shadow Weaver, and Angella is the resident anti-Shadow Weaver. Her foil, if we’re being technical. Both are military leaders who also happen to be mothers, but where Shadow Weaver puts the “mentor” in “tormentor” despite an occasional maternal impulse, Angella is deeply caring beneath her coldness and strict attitude. Them being associated with the same visual motif makes the contrast stand out even more. Notice that both times Angella puts her hand on someone’s cheek it’s in the moment of choosing people’s needs over her own desires. She wants Glimmer to be safe and out of the battlefield, but knows her daughter would never rest easy if she wasn’t helping her friends. She wants to stay with the husband she hasn’t seen in years, but understands that her duty lies elsewhere. Angella’s affection is selfless, and that, more than anything else, is what sets her apart from Shadow Weaver. A few more examples are in Season 5’s section. If you have any pins left, this would be a good place for one.

For now we move on to electricity, an element favored by three of our not-so-fantastic four.

Catra: “Pretty good, huh? I got the idea from Shadow Weaver. At least she was good for something in the end.” (Flutterina, 4:3)

This might be a reference to Avatar: The Last Airbender, where lightning was used as an abuse metaphor. ATLA is a rather obvious inspiration for the show so it’s entirely plausible. Electrocution also has the benefit of being a non-gorey method of torture, allowing for some surprising brutality without technically breaking the age restrictions. Of course, just like the cheek touch, it does have exceptions. But instead of selflessness vs selfishness, the deciding factor here is protection vs punishment. That’s where Adora, Glimmer, and Scorpia differ from Shadow Weaver, Catra, and Horde Prime, even though all of these characters electrocute someone at some point.

The next and last recurring motif is perspective. You know how abusers tend to look down on their victims? Well, SatPoP took that a bit literally.

Not content with just being very tall, Shadow Weaver likes to up the intimidation factor by appearing as this great looming figure. It’s a good graphic representation of how abusers make themselves feel bigger and stronger than they actually are by making others feel small.

Catra seems to dig the angle too.

She’s often keeping Adora beneath her, whether it’s by following Obi-Wan’s example and getting the high ground or making her fall on the ground.

The Portal in particular puts Adora through this ordeal more times than is strictly necessary, but it does help emphasize the eventual reversal: Adora is now the one standing above Catra in a moment of payback and catharsis. They can’t be on an equal level because Catra doesn’t see Adora as an equal and balance can only be maintained through mutual effort. After Adora realizes that, she puts herself in a position where Catra won’t be able to bring her down anymore — literally or figuratively.

At this point you must have spotted something of a running theme: Catra is a copycat-ra. Unfortunately for everyone, her role model is the second worst person alive who tried really hard to be the first and only lost by a couple of genocides. The similarities between them are everywhere but they're at their most in-your-face obvious in The Portal. Again. Seriously, this episode is competing with White Out for who can scream “Catra is abusive!” the loudest.

It’s not hard to get what sort of feelings the interactions between Shadow Weaver and her wards are trying to inspire in you. Sympathy, because they're hurt and scared and vulnerable. Disgust, because Shadow Weaver is treating someone like dirt just to feel a sense of superiority. Horror, because this is a far too real scenario. Then the show deliberately takes these skin-crawling, nausea-inducing incidents of abuse and re-enacts them between Catra and Adora.

Why should they be perceived differently now?

The framing didn’t change. Adora is not any less terrified and Catra is not any less terrifying. If you weren’t supposed to view their relationship as abusive, then whoever storyboarded these scenes should’ve gotten fired faster than you can say “Eternia”.

This so far has only been about narrative devices, not real-life tactics, but worry not: there’s plenty to be said about that. Starting with…

Verbal abuse

For all the talk about sticks and stones, verbal abuse remains one of the most effective tools in abuser’s toolbox. Defined as “the use of hurtful language to assert control” and often synonymous with emotional abuse, it encompasses a wide range of behaviors, from straightforward insults to subtle condescension. Like all types of abuse, it’s a recurring pattern that exists within an interpersonal relationship, which is what sets it apart from just calling someone a poopyhead. While words cannot indeed break your bones, they might do something worse than that — break your spirit. The hows and whys of it come down to one word: familiarity. See, people are weirdly eager to believe stuff they’ve heard multiple times, even when they already knew it’s false. This bizarre quirk of our brains is called illusory truth effect. Other fancy science terms like mere-exposure effect and schema operate on a similar principle. So if continuous reinforcement is this good at drilling stuff into your head, and the thing that's being continuously reinforced is how bad you are… The result is that verbal abuse erodes self-esteem in much the same way water erodes stone. You don’t see the damage as it’s happening; in fact it’s hard to believe that something as insubstantial as water could damage solid rocks at all. But it does. Drop by drop, word by word.

Shadow Weaver: “Insolent child. I’ve come expect such disgraceful behavior from you, but I will not allow you to drag Adora down as well. You have never been anything more than a nuisance to me.” (Promise, 1:11)

Shadow Weaver: “Catra has been nothing but a disappointment to me!” (Razz, 1:3)

Shadow Weaver: “You’ve always been a disappointment. You’ve learned nothing from me!” (Light Hope, 1:12)

Shadow Weaver: “I assumed Hordak finally realized what a lazy, worthless creature you are and banished you.” (The Frozen Forest, 2:1)

At least one person would call it the opposite of a problem though. As far as Shadow Weaver is concerned, a day not spent berating children is a day wasted.

Shadow Weaver: “You were nothing before I took you in, Adora, and you will be nothing without me!” (In the Shadows of Mystacor, 1:7)

Shadow Weaver: “Clever. You always were. The moment I laid eyes on you I knew you were different. You were—” Adora: “Special? No. What you always told me was that I didn’t matter. I was ‘special’ only as long as I obeyed you.” (The Price of Power, 3:1)

This is yet another patented technique of hers, not that it stops Catra from parroting her anyway.

Catra: “When did you get so weak?” (The Sea Gate, 1:5)

Shadow Weaver: “You’re weak!” (In the Shadows of Mystacor, 1:7)

Catra: “And it won’t be over until I see the looks on your friends’ faces when they find out that you failed, that you were too weak to save them.” (The Battle of Brightmoon, 1:13)

With a few targeted remarks she saps Adora’s will to go on,

Adora: “Fine, you win. You want me to be weak? Well, I am. And I’m afraid. Because I’m no good at any of this.” (The Beacon, 1:10)

Adora: “It’s too late. I’ve failed.” (Heart II, 5:13)

feeds her insecurities,

Adora: “I don’t want any of you risking yourselves. She-Ra can do this alone. This is what she’s for.” Bow: “Adora, not even She-Ra can take out an army of Horde soldiers all on her own.” Adora: “Then what good is she⁈” (The Battle of Brightmoon, 1:13)

Catra: “Tired already? I thought punching was supposed to be like, the one thing you’re good at?” (The Battle of Brightmoon, 1:13)

undermines her confidence,

Adora: “I wanna be the best She-Ra. I wanna protect the planet! But Catra, she’s just… in my head.” (The Frozen Forest, 2:1)

Catra: “If you hadn’t gotten captured, your Sword wouldn’t have opened the Portal. If you hadn’t gotten the Sword, and then the world’s worst She-Ra, none of this would’ve happened! Admit it, Adora! The world would still be standing if you had never come through that Portal in the first place.” (The Portal, 3:6)

and affirms her greatest fears.

Adora: “I hurt people; I ruined my friends’ lives!” (Light Hope, 1:12)

Catra: “You’re the one who left the villagers unprotected. You’re good enough at hurting your friends without my help.” (Flutterina, 4:3)

This specific variety of verbal tactics is known as…

Guilt-trip

Guilt-tripping is a subtype of emotional abuse that leverages the feelings of, well, guilt. It’s a really uncomfortable emotion that puts the victim in a defensive position — they’re usually too busy trying to prove they’re not terrible to accuse anyone else of being so. As for Adora, she’s not so much guilt-tripped as guilt-hamstringed.

Adora: “I’m sorry. It’s my fault she was here; I endangered Mystacor.” (In the Shadows of Mystacor, 1:7)

Adora: “How could I let this happen?…” Bow: “Adora, it’s not your fault.” Adora: “It is my fault. Entrapta’s gone because of my plan.” (The Beacon, 1:10)

Adora: “Commander, it’s my fault. I—” (The Beacon, 1:10)

Adora: “[Glimmer]’s hurt because of me; I messed up. I got Glimmer and Bow captured, and Entrapta… It’s— It’s my fault!” (Light Hope, 1:12)

Adora: “I thought I could get through to [Catra], but all I did was push her further to the side of evil. Light Hope said I’d endanger my friends by coming back, and she was right. Everything that’s happening now is my fault…” (The Battle of Brightmoon, 1:13)

Adora: “Catra will make me watch all of it before she finishes me off, and then everyone is gone, and the Horde wins the war, and Etheria crumbles and it’s all my fault!” (Roll With It, 2:4)

Adora: “It’s all my fault! I-I’ve been so afraid of becoming another Mara, destroying the world the way she did, and now… it’s happening.” (Remember, 3:5)

Adora: “It must have been a diversion so that I’d leave Elberon defenseless. And-And I fell for it! This is my fault.” (Flutterina, 4:3)

Adora: “I’m sorry. It’s my fault you got hurt.” (Pulse, 4:4)

You don’t need Mermysteries-level deductive reasoning to trace the origin of those thoughts…

Shadow Weaver (disguised as Bow): “Everything that’s about to happen is your fault, Adora. You’re to blame.” (In the Shadows of Mystacor, 1:7)

Shadow Weaver: “Mystacor will fall, and it will be your fault!” (In the Shadows of Mystacor, 1:7)

…or to predict that Catra will ape her in this as she does in everything else.

Catra: “Let’s be honest here — all of this is your fault.” (The Portal, 3:6)

Catra: “You broke the world, and it is all. your. fault.” (The Portal, 3:6)

Not only with these exact words, either.

Shadow Weaver: “Adora, you must do a better job of keeping [Catra] under control. Do not let something like this happen again.” (Promise, 1:11)

Catra: “You made me this! You took everything from me!” (The Portal, 3:6)

They both make choices to harm people and then claim it’s Adora’s responsibility to stop them by appeasing their demands. Be the perfect soldier, or your friend gets it. Choose me over the rest of the world, or there won’t be a world. Comply, or you’ll make me do something horrible. Speaking of doing something horrible and not owning up to it…

Gaslight

Gaslighting is not just a type of illumination. The term comes from a 1938 play Gas Light, in which a husband drives his wife mad by dimming the lights and then denying it. Deliberately creating a discrepancy between someone’s perception and their idea of reality convinces them that their own mind can’t be trusted — hard to imagine a more vulnerable position.

Shadow Weaver (disguised as Glimmer): “I think Adora has finally lost it! Did you see her in there? I think she’s going nuts!” Adora: “I’m not crazy!” *Adora sees that no one is around* Adora: “I’m… I’m not crazy.” (In the Shadows of Mystacor, 1:7)

I’m running out of animal analogies here, but you know the drill by now.

Catra: “You’ve officially lost it, haven’t you?” (Remember, 3:5)

Catra: “You’ve gone crazy!” (Remember, 3:5)

It’s really worth noting that some of the phrases from National Domestic Violence Hotline’s What is gaslighting? are things that Catra says to Adora word-for-word. A monkey on a typewriter would have better chances of stumbling into this exact phrasing than any dialogue writer who did basic research into their theme of choice and didn't want Catra to sound like an abuser.

Catra: “You’re just seeing things. It’s all in your head.” (Remember, 3:5)

Catra: “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” (Remember, 3:5)

But does she know what Adora’s talking about?

Yes. The scenes that most clearly prove it follow pretty much the same steps: Adora confronts Catra about what’s happening; Catra’s old memories are triggered; she gets defensive and tries to shut Adora down to maintain the façade. The only part that might not be immediately obvious to the viewer is that the first memory flash was experienced by Catra and not Adora. She describes her vision this way:

Adora: “I remember… a sword, a-a bright light, and you were ther—” (Remember, 3:5)

which is obviously referring to her finding the Sword, getting flashbanged by it, and then being woken up by Catra. But that's not what we see. And it's not Adora whose face the camera stays focused on like it did every time before. This is a bit subtler than the show usually prefers, but don’t worry, because all subtlety is gone out the window in their second argument. By that point, if Catra’s guilty expression and shifty eyes don't alert you to the fact that she’s lying, then a glowing neon sign stating exactly that wouldn’t make a difference.

On two separate occasions it's made clear that Catra knows something’s up and chooses to discredit Adora anyway. She’s not acting out of genuine ignorance but a stubborn desire to keep things “perfect” at any cost, even when the cost is Adora’s faith in her own sanity.

Adora: “I don’t know what’s happening to me. It’s like I’m losing my mind.” Catra: “You just need to relax.” Adora: “Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m fine. Everything’s fine…” (Remember, 3:5)

Adora’s body language — crossing her arms, hunching her shoulders, looking away — indicates someone who is deeply uncomfortable. She's growing more and more certain that Catra has done something seriously bad to her and that she's not safe with her anymore, but there's just enough doubt that Adora can't take any decisive action about it. The creeping realization that someone you've trusted with every part of you is actually a threat makes Remember into a borderline psychological horror.

Adora: “I know this is wrong; can’t you see it⁈ My memories don’t match; we’re jumping around; things are disappearing; it’s like time and space aren’t working right. And I—” Catra: “Adora, stop it. Stop!” (Remember, 3:5)

Catra's not just concerned. She’s angry that Adora won’t just shut up and accept her version of reality — a reality that doesn’t require Catra to acknowledge and face repercussions for all the ways in which she’s harmed Adora. Remember what I said about hyperboles in fiction? Strip this episode of portals and magic swords and all that nonsense, and what you’re left with is a person who wants to escape the fallout of their decisions so badly they’re willing to delude someone close to them until their world is falling apart before their eyes. Despite having gaslighting as its main focus, though, it also provides a striking example of a different tactic…

Physical abuse

We all know that generally, beating people up is bad. And yet a term was coined specifically for characters who start hitting on each other after just hitting each other — that ubiquitous “enemies-to-lovers” thing that plagues every SatPoP discussion. This inevitably muddies the waters, as it poses the question of how to identify physical abuse in a dynamic that must include violence by design. There’s some nuance to the problem. We could ask whether they fight for external or personal reasons, whether they have lines they won’t cross or will they stoop to anything, and what’s probably most important, whether they attack each other equally or is there an obvious aggressor. You're certainly welcome to ask yourself that. Shouldn't be hard.

But! for the sake of keeping our waters as clear as possible, I’ll draw a hard line and not count anything that happened in context of enemy battles as physical abuse. So, does Catra hit Adora when they're not locked in honorab— well, just in combat?

Yes. Case closed; moving on.

Repentance or

—no, fine, I may as well be thorough to the end and analyze these scenes in full, even if the point has already been proven. The first one takes place almost at the very beginning. Adora has just defected, but crucially, they are not treating each other as enemies yet, or else Adora would not turn her back to Catra and Catra wouldn't bother making excuses for stabbing her in said back.

Catra: “…oh man, that was a lot stronger than I thought. Are you okay?” Adora: “Catra!—” *Catra electrocutes her a second time* Catra: “I’m sorry! It was a reflex.” Adora: “Why… why are you doing this?” Catra: *pause* “Because you left me! And if I don’t bring you back, Shadow Weaver’s gonna have my head. So enough with this weird little identity crisis, and let’s go home already. Or do I need to zap you again?” (The Sword II, 1:2)

She says she didn't mean to hurt her. Then she hurts her again. Then threatens to hurt her again. Then attempts to hurt her again. For comparison, this is Catra's expression after her other shocking betrayal.

That's the thing: we know what Catra looks like when she regrets it. And she never looks like that when it comes to Adora.

Then, because abuse is a cycle, they go through the same motions in Remember.

Adora: “Ow! What was that?” Catra: “Sorry! You were freaking out, and it was freaking me out!” Adora: “Well you didn’t have to slap me!” Catra: “Come on, let’s get you outside; you need some air.” (Remember, 3:5)

Once again, Adora learns that her life is a lie and starts to break out of it. Once again, Catra immediately responds with anger and violence. Once again, she brushes right past Adora's indignation and tries to just paper over the whole affair until things go back to “normal”, the way they always have.

And look, I hear you. She's just a kid. We can't hold someone this young fully responsible for their actions, let alone brand them the most evil of anklebiters that ever learned to count to four. Just this once, I'd like to remove blame from the equation. It wasn't Catra's fault. That does not mean it isn't an important look into their dynamic all the same. We're not asking who deserves to be punished here — that would be Shadow Weaver — we're asking what happened and what it means for the characters going forward.

So Catra is upset that her friend has been hanging out with Lonnie. There's probably some normal childish jealousy mixed in, but from a trauma standpoint, she's likely terrified that the one thing standing between her and her abuser is slipping away. Whatever the context behind it though, the situation is more or less identical: Catra feels that Adora is threatening their relationship, and the only solution she can think of is to lash out until she gives in. Not a surprising reaction for a desperate, panicked child soldier-in-training to have, but it's one that Catra simply refuses to grow out of. Her present-day actions demonstrate that she never stopped viewing pain as a means of correcting Adora's behavior. Maybe she's not as quick to resort to it. Maybe sometimes she'll just use cutting words instead of cutting claws. Maybe she'll even apologize after the fact. After all, she's not a child anymore, so her violence is actually thought-out. Deliberate. Either way, the second Adora steps out of line Catra will go from affectionate and playful to aggressive and pitiless until she gives in… or gives out.

I'll keep my promise and not bring in the scary A-word when they're at least ostensibly fighting for their respective factions, but I will call Catra's behavior what it is: cruel. It's cruel and vicious and needlessly brutal in a way she isn't towards anyone else she faces off against, and certainly not in any way Adora's been towards her. The goal is not to incapacitate — it's to hurt. That kind of unflinching willingness to cause harm doesn't come out of nowhere.

…but enough dwelling on the past! It doesn't matter if Catra pushed her into water off a bridge, because it's all water under the bridge. They've turned a new leaf, done a 180°, started from scratch— okay, that one is poor phrasing. Point is, it's all behind them now. Right?

Repentance or repetition

Interrupting my barrage of hot takes with a lukewarm but nonetheless correct take: Catra should be redeemed. More than that, her redemption is necessary for the story to achieve its full potential. And while I get why people say it should've begun earlier, I actually think its placement in the story makes sense. I've mentioned briefly that all four parts of the show have their own unique attributes. Act I is mostly introductory, establishing the cast and their position in the world without moving things forward too much. Act II is where the plot really kicks off, with the first mentions of a mysterious weapon and a wider universe. Act III in turn is a downward slope where everyone, heroes and villains alike, are starting to unravel and hit rock bottom. What then, you may ask, defines Act IV? Change. The status quo shattered along with She-Ra's sword. Etheria being overrun means there is no longer a comfort zone to retreat to. Nearly every constant you've gotten used to over the last four seasons is ripped away, pushing the characters into uncharted territory and forcing them to adapt. Thematically speaking, this is the perfect time for Catra to finally leave her old habits behind and start anew.

Did she though?

Catra: “I keep having this horrible vision of a blonde girl, who thinks she's better than everyone, barging into my room all day. Oh, wait.” (Taking Control, 5:6)

Catra: “I told you not to come back! But you just love feeling like a hero, don't you⁈” (Taking Control, 5:6)

If you think this line sounds kind of familiar, that's because it's almost the same thing she said back in Promise when their relationship completely fell apart.

Catra: “You always need to play the hero, don't you?” (Promise, 1:11)

I just said it's not too late to redeem Catra in Act IV, and I stand by that. But it only holds true if the creators make full use of the time they have instead of backtracking on what little progress she did demonstrate and making her go back and forth some more like an actual cat who can't decide if they want in or out the damn door. Or better yet, emphasizing that she hasn't changed at all halfway through the last season. Whenever you feel bad about your time management skills, remember that at least you aren't responsible for that. (If by chance you are, DM me. I have questions.)

Catra: “Then you've even dumber than I thought.” (Taking Control, 5:6)

Catra: “I always knew you were kinda dumb, but… come on.” (The Sea Gate, 1:5)

As Catra echoes her previous lines, so does Adora. Echo Catra, that is.

Adora: “I'm such an idiot.” (Taking Control, 5:6)

Catra: “You're such an idiot.” (Save the Cat, 5:5)

Whether it was intended as “light-hearted teasing”, if Adora immediately comes back to it when she's distraught and insecure, then that's not what it was. I sure hope Catra doesn't repeat this later on!

Catra: “You're such an idiot.” (Heart II, 5:13)

Ah. The show does make a point that people don't get over themselves in a day. They do that in two days, apparently, because the very next episode opens with Catra messing with Adora as if they've been best buds for ages and she has no reason at all to be particularly careful around her.

The very face of shame and remorse right here. Catra did not apologize for lashing out again. She made no promises it won't happen again. The only reason they even moved past this is because Adora prioritized Catra's feelings over her own. Again. For a season that was supposed to be all about change, it sure gives me a lot of déjà vu.

War crimes aside, Catra's main problem has always been her inability to have healthy conflict. We already know she can be nice to Adora when they agree on everything — the real test of character is what happens when they don't. Can she express her disapproval in a constructive way, without falling back into familiar patterns? To which Season 5 confidently answers: nah.

When Adora isn't siding with her on every issue, Catra storms off in a huff so that she always has to come and make it up to her, even if she didn't do anything wrong.

When there's an opening to criticize Adora for defying her in the past, Catra takes it, even if it means twisting what actually happened.

Adora: “How are we supposed to fight our own friends?” Catra: “It never stopped you before.” (Save the Cat, 5:5)

Adora: “Don't move.” Catra: “Oh, please. You'd never have the guts.” (White Out, 2:5)

Glimmer: “[Adora] left us. She's headed to the Heart on her own.” Catra: “Of course she's gone! That's what she does, isn't it?” (Heart I, 5:12)

Adora: “Catra, please. Stay. I need you.” Catra: “No, you don't. You never have.” (Failsafe, 5:11)

And when all else fails…

This isn't about the argument itself. It doesn't matter which of them has objectively correct takes on Shadow Weaver or the failsafe or pineapple on pizza. What matters is that Catra still punishes Adora for not conforming to her expectations.

She still withholds affection if her conditions aren't met.

She still looks down on her. Wait, what's this pin doing here? …Oh, yeah. Another visual cue that came back is the cheek touch, and it captures the whole issue with Season 5 in that it's clearly meant to be recontextualized, except the narrative fails to actually earn that. Adora already uses it as a gesture of comfort before they start working on their relationship at all. There's no struggle to reclaim it despite all the ways it's been weaponized against them, and still is weaponized against Adora. It used to be bad and now it just… isn't. Kind of like everything else between them.

I'm sure some people would accuse me of deliberately leaving out the good parts in favor of things that support my own reading, but when it comes to abuse, the good parts don't cancel out the bad. In fact, the cycle of abuse specifically includes reconciliation and calm after every incident. One moment Catra sticks out her neck to protect Adora and apologizes “for everything”; the next moment she's yelling and hurling insults. One moment she's making a mean-spirited jab to satisfy an old grudge; the next moment she's going out of her way to lift Adora's spirits. One moment they're enjoying each other's company like nothing ever happened; the next moment Catra is giving her the cold shoulder for making a wrong choice. One moment Adora is left crying alone despite begging on her knees for emotional support; the next moment Catra pulls her back from the brink with the allmighty power of love. A relationship that's going up and down like a cardiograph is no less toxic than a relationship that's always down. Healing isn't linear, yes, but it's still going somewhere. Catra's relapses don't get any less intense over time — if anything, her lowest point this season is right before the finale — nor is she's ever called out on them by Adora or her support system. Catra occasionally hurting her just seems to be a normal part of their dynamic, and there's absolutely no indication it'll go away after the credits roll.

No wonder then that the show doesn't feel too pressured to unpack everything that happened during the four seasons Catra spent gaslighting, guilt-tripping, and otherwise girlbossing. It's content enough to say that she did some nebulous bad things and hurt a bunch of nonspecific people, but none of that has long-lasting consequences that could get in the way of romance, thank goodness. If it did, the viewers might've felt a tad awkward that the person helping Catra work through her loss of autonomy is the same one she literally turned into a weapon at some point, with zero acknowledgement of that fact.

Any fear or anger or trauma that Adora might and did have regarding Catra conveniently vanish whenever she needs to take care of her. Which is a lot. No matter how badly she was treated in the past — and by “past” I mean “last time they talked” — she never once denies Catra her time and energy, being written less like an incredibly forgiving abuse victim and more like an idealized knight-in-shining-armor figure. Or a martyr.

Obviously this isn't Catra's fault. She didn't choose for this drawn-out… honestly, torture porn is the only description I can think of, crass as it is — to happen. But the writers did. They took a character who has already suffered far, far too much at the hands of her abuser, had her brutalized in as graphic detail as the rating would allow by someone who looks and sounds exactly like them, and framed it all as a great romantic sacrifice she makes for said abuser.

There is no universally correct way to write redemption — no, not even “make them just like Zuko” — and things only get more complicated when you throw a topic as sensitive as abuse into the mix. It requires a very thoughtful, careful approach to ensure that the work you put out doesn't trivialize anyone's experiences. But the writers of SatPoP seemed to care much more about cheap drama and angst than respecting their theme, and the result is unbelievably tone-deaf.

Perhaps Catra does love Adora. She certainly has some strong feelings about her, one way or another. But feelings alone aren't enough. Because if Catra's love looks like this:

then I don't think Adora deserves it, actually. …so why do so many people disagree?

The other point of view