#hordeabide

“Awee, Catra, you’re so FUNNY”

          “   i hate to break it to you ,   but there’s nothing you can do to convince bow that you aren’t cute .   he has already made up his mind .   ”

@hordeabide​​ said: puts a flower in her hair & purrs. :3

A soft giggle emanated from her lips as the blossom was placed within her golden tresses.  

Though the gesture was sweet, what REALLY caught the Princess’s attention was the sound Catra was making.  

WESTWORLD SENTENCE MEME

Denying it was futile. He was lost, more lost than he has ever been. Not just in the sense of location but internally too. ❛ What gave it away? The dazed look in my eye or the fact that I don’t sound nor look like the folk around here? ❜ His tone does not fall short of derision. 

˗ˏˋ prompt | @hordeabide​ | accepting ! ˊˎ˗

GHOSTS ARE really, really scary. Adora doesn’t like them one bit. But she puts on a brave face when she and her team sneak into the hall after lights out ( only Kyle stays behind– and Adora doesn’t want to stay behind with Kyle ) tiptoeing to check if the sobs they heard echoing down the corridor was really the weeping princess from Shadow Weaver’s stories. Turning a corner, they discover an older Horde officer crying in a secluded nook. I love him so much, she’s saying to herself, only stopping when she notices she has an audience, and sharply tells them to go back to bed, lest she report them to Shadow Weaver. The sound of their commanding officer’s name was all they needed to hear to make them sprint back to their room.  

They return, out of breath, and Adora has to ask what ‘loove’ means. She’s mispronouncing it, Catra tells her, and Lonnie says that it’s a word you use for someone you like… but a lot. Love is something more than like. Then everyone climbs into their usual bunks, the room turns quiet before filling with the familiar sound of snores and heavy breaths. Adora pulls the covers to her chin, wondering if she’s the only one who’s still awake right now. She bites her lip, still all shaken up over ghosts, and sees the scariest faces her imagination can come up with when she closes her eyes. Tossing, turning, trying to find a side she feels comfortable sleeping on, she presses her hands to the sides of her head and utters a tiny, helpless cry into her pillow.

A soldier’s fear is supposed to be kept a secret in the Horde. And the only person Adora trusts her biggest secrets with is Catra. She’s curled up by her feet right now, like always, so Adora stretches her leg out and taps her gently with her toe to get her attention. She whispers softly enough for only Catra to hear. ‘Catra. Hey, Catra. Are you awake?’ Catra’s response comes immediately. ‘Duh. How am I supposed to sleep when you keep moving?’ Adora is quiet for a moment after that. ‘Oh. Sorry.’

Catra seems to understand what Adora wants without her having to ask, though, because she crawls over to where she’s lying and climbs under the covers next to her. Adora holds her hand. Tight. ‘Are you… are you sure there isn’t a weeping princess out there?’ She’s warmer now with Catra beside her. She feels better.

‘No way. Besides, if there was a weeping princess, I wouldn’t let her get you.’ Catra’s eyes seem to glow in the dark, blue and yellow lights in the darkness, staring up at the bottom of the top bunk, the bunk that was supposed to be hers… before she started sharing with Adora. Adora squishes her cheek against Catra’s shoulder, wearing a contented smile. ‘Because I love you… I think. No, I’m pretty sure. Yeah, I love you.’

Those words touch her somewhere deep down in her chest, all fuzzy and melty, like they’re melting her insides… but in a good way? Adora still doesn’t know exactly what the word love means. But she knows she feels for Catra in a way that’s different from the way she feels for anyone else in the Horde. She knows she likes Catra. Adora also likes Lonnie, and the rest of her team… but it’s not exactly the same as the way she likes Catra. Love is more than like. If Catra can say it, then Adora knows she can say it back and mean it just as much.

The power of that word, love, makes all of the scary ghosts in Adora’s head disappear.

˗ˏˋ prompt | @hordeabide​ | accepting ! ˊˎ˗

‘END IT’, Adora ventures like she has a death wish. Because she isn’t afraid to face this now, to stare right in the eyes. Peace has a price, she knows now more than ever, and she understands that her destiny could lead her into an early grave. She Ra flickered out after taking a heavy hit, left a tattered Adora in her place. Her sword is out of reach and smoke permeates her view of the battlefield… she prays to anyone who might be listening that Glimmer and Bow are safe. On the losing end of this battle, she’s quick to squander fear with acceptance. Pinned down beneath Catra, earth biting into the Horde issued shirt she still insists on wearing after all this time, she challenges her with an unwavering glare. She aches all over, her vision blurs, and Catra’s familiar features are fading in and out of focus above her. Catra wants to see her fail. Catra wants to see her weak. Right now, her composure is all she has left. ‘You have me exactly where you want me– why won’t you just end it already?’

Heavy, panting breaths fill the silence between them. They’re the only ones that occupy this moment, somehow, they only have eyes for each other. The silence stretches long enough for them to grow quiet and that’s when Adora realizes that this has gone on far longer than she expected it to. Catra’s angry expression twitches, like she’s having trouble keeping it there, the muscles in her throat twitching like she’s trying to hold something back.

‘You’re my friend.’ Catra finally answers. ‘That’s why I can’t kill you.’

Adora is completely unfazed at first. Then Catra’s grip on her shoulders goes slack and something in her expression turns soft and open in a way that strikes Adora through all of the defenses she built up for herself. Disbelief turns to confusion, confusion turns to frustration, frustration turns to sorrow, sorrow turns to compassion ( which she tries to push down, with a vengeance ) and suddenly she’s feeling everything she’s ever felt for Catra all at once. The good, the bad, everything. Adora’s so raw with hurt that she doesn’t notice the tears streaming from the corners of her eyes, rolling around curves of her earlobes and wetting the ground.

Adora laughs– dazed with hysteria- until she chokes on a sob that clings to the back of her throat like glue.

Here she is, closing her crying eyes, still lying beneath her ex-best-friend, unable to hide anything. The worst part is that Adora feels herself falling for it. Her heart yearns more than anything for it to be true. Even though she knows this by now, she knows all of Catra’s old tricks. Playing with her heartstrings… and then ripping them out with her claws. This is either manipulation in its cruelest form or–

Adora had to work so hard to keep herself closed off from Catra, to keep her emotions from losing the war.

❝You can’t just… do you have any idea how long– I–❞ Adora shakes her head, swallows her confessions, and blinks her eyes open. Infuriation clouds the sky blue eyes behind her tears. She forces herself to sit up, ignoring the way her injuries scream at her for it, and Catra’s weight shifts accommodatingly against Adora’s waist, as if to let her. She dries her eyes quickly with a violent swipe of her arm.