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So what’s up with Spinerella and Netossa?“ Adora asks one day as they’re leaving an alliance meeting.Bow and Glimmer exchange a look. Adora has become uncomfortably familiar with that look. It’s the look that they share whenever Adora asks something that’s supposed to be common knowledge.And maybe if she hadn’t been raised in the Horde, it would be."Well, they’re a couple.” Bow says hesitantly.“I mean, yeah, they’re a couple, there’s two of them. But they go everywhere together and hold hands and they’re always like, touching each other–” she cuts herself off, realizing she’s rambling.“They’re together. Romantically.” Bow adds, like it’s any help at all. Glimmer rolls her eyes, and Adora’s heart goes out to her.“Sometimes two people who are really close to each other decide that they want to be together.” Glimmer says slowly.“Like you and Bow…?”“No, that’s not – I mean yes, Bow and I are best friends of course, and we’re very close, but we aren’t romantically involved. Being a couple is like being best friends, but more. You do things like holding hands, going on dates, kissing…”“Kissing?”“Oh jeez.” Glimmer smacks a palm against her forehead. “She doesn’t know what kissing is. Bow?”“Wellll this is a kiss!” he leans over and pecks Glimmer on the cheek.“Oh! I know what those are. I just didn’t know that was what they were called.” Adora remembers when they were little she would kiss Catra on her head sometimes before they went to sleep, only if she was sure no one was looking. Once or twice, the night after a rough sparring match, Catra would kiss the scrapes and bruises on Adora’s skin. But wait– “I thought you said you weren’t…romantically together?“ This is so confusing. She wishes she had a notepad. Does this make Catra her…romantic, whatever? Her traitorous heart flutters in her chest."Oh, we’re not, you can give friends kisses too!” Adora sits down at a bench.“This is so confusing.” She’s going to have to make flash cards, isn’t she?“Well, let me see if I can clarify.” Glimmer says, sitting down next to her. “There are some places you don’t usually kiss friends, but you do kiss your girlfriend or boyfriend –”“–another term for romantic partner.” Bow interjects.“Like you can kiss a friend on the cheek or head, but only a boyfriend or girlfriend on the lips.”She’s kissed Catra on the head and cheek plenty of times.She’s kissed Catra other places, too.Catra was unexpectedly soft. Everything about it was soft. And the sounds she made–Adora flushes as the thought."Okay, so if you kiss someone on the lips, does that make them your girlfriend, uh, or boyfriend?Catra’s hand fisted in Adora’s loose hair, pulling her down harder against her–“No, not automatically. It’s something you have to talk about first.”“What does it mean if you kiss someone without talking about it?”“Adora!!! Have you kissed someone? Oh my God, do you have a crush on someone? Tell us everything!” Bow exclaims, literally jumping up and down.“A crush?! That sounds hazardous?!” Adora yelps. “No, no, it’s just a term for when you like someone, but you haven’t discussed being in a romantic relationship yet… a crush is like…you like someone as more than a friend.” Thank the stars for Glimmers patience, or Adora would never know what any of this meant."So you start off with a crush, and then you become girlfriends?”“or girlfriend and boyfriend, or partners, or whatever.”“And that happens when you tell the person you have a crush on them.” Adora reiterates.“Well, it happens when you both agree you want it to, yeah.”“But you can still kiss a crush, right? What’s the difference between a crush and girlfriends/boyfriends?”“So part of being in a relationship, usually, means that you don’t kiss anyone else. It’s something you have to discuss with your partner.” Glimmer finally says, turning back to Adora.“If you kiss someone and your partner doesn’t know about or approve of it, it’s called cheating, and is very, very hurtful.” “But if it’s just a crush, you can kiss other people without it being cheating?” “Yeeees…” Glimmer says. “Okay Adora you’re making this too complicated now. If you like someone, tell them! You two can talk about it and figure it out. These rules aren’t set in stone, anyway.” If only it were that easy.“haha, yeah, okay. I mean. I don’t have a crush on anyone.” Bow visibly rolls his eyes. “But if I did yeah I would talk to them… now how about you teach me some of those archery tricks you were talking about, Bow?”“Okaaay…but don’t think I’ve forgotten about this, Adora! I will figure out who you have a crush on!”“Last one to the range is a rotten egg!” Adora cries as she takes off sprinting, determinedly forcing thoughts of Catra to the back of her mind.
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As time goes by
more and more of the Horde’s abuse presents itself in Adora’s behavior.She cuts her hand in the armory one day. Glimmer walks in and catches her desperately trying to clean the blood off of the blade of the weapon but paying no attention to her own torn skin. “Adora! What are you doing??” Glimmer exclaims in shock, rushing over to her friend.Adora gives her a look that says ‘well isn’t it obvious?’ “We have to get you to the infirmiry!” Glimmer unclips her cape and wraps it around Adora’s hand. “I can’t leave blood on this, it will get rusty.” “Forget the dagger! What about your hand?!” “I–” Adora looks at the offending appendage and scowls, like the thought of placing her own care above that of an inanimate object had ever occurred to her. But then she looks at Glimmer’s pleading face. Adora smiles. “Yeah, okay. Can you show me where it is?”—They’re practicing hand to hand combat on the grounds one day (more accurately, Adora and Bow are practicing hand to hand combat while Glimmer sits nearby and watches) when Glimmer suddenly groans, “Ugh I am STARVING.”Adora reaches into her jacket and then trots over to where Glimmer is perched on the edge of a cart.“Here you go.” “Uh, what’s this?” Glimmer laughs.“Is…that a trick question.” “You just handed me a bread roll! Where did you even get this from?” Adora straightens her shirt, feeling uncomofrtable.“From dinner the other night.”“You just keep food on you?”“I mean…sometimes.”“You know you can go to the kitchens whenever you’re hungry and ask for food, right?” Bow asks, walking over to the pair.“You…can?” Adora’s eyes are wide. “I mean, of course you can, haha.” Bow and Glimmer exchange a look.Adora doesn’t tell them that the Horde was very strict about meals.She doesn’t tell them about how when Shadow Weaver was displeased with Catra’s behavior she would cut her rations. She doesn’t tell them that she would sneak food from her plate and give it to Catra when nobody was looking. She doesn’t tell them how one time Shadow Weaver found out and threw Catra in the Hole for three days. She does not want to be pitied.
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It's early. The lights won't turn up for another hour, at least. Most of the year 12 cadets are still sound asleep in their bunks. Adora, however, is a morning person. She enjoys the hour of quiet time she gets to herself in the gym before everyone else wakes up for training. She shuffles into their shared bathroom and is greeted by the sight of another early riser. Rogelio is standing at one of the sinks. His back is turned to her.“Hey, Catra. I need you to give me back that--oh. Adora.” He turns so that he finally sees her. Adora states at him in confusion, and sees his tongue flick out to taste the air.“Sorry,” he says slowly, measuring his words. “I thought you were Catra.”“Why would you think that?” She asks, walking over to use the sink beside his.His face scrunches up a little when she does. His tongue flicks in and out wildly. “You…” his yellow eyes dart around quickly as if to make sure they're alone. “You reek of her.”“I--I do?” Adora sees her face flush bright red in the mirror. She's not even sure what she has to be embarrassed about, but the way Rogelio is acting it's like she's shown up naked to class.“Well, when you see her can you ask for my Battle Skiff Simulator disc back? I need to study for the test tomorrow.”“y-yeah, okay.” She stammers, watching as he shambles his way out of the bathroom and back to their barracks.--Adora walks into the barracks after her morning exercise while everyone else is up and getting ready for the day. She finds Catra on their bunk, wearing her thumbs out on a game pad that's running a Skiff Simulation. It's unusual to find her awake at this hour, but not unheard of.“Catra?” her friend's ears flick in her direction but she makes no other indication that she heard her. Adora moves over to sit on the bed next to Catra to watch as she runs through the aim. When she does, she notices that Catra's nose starts to twitch wildly. “Rogelio did that same thing to me earlier!” “What? Smelled you?” Catra still doesn't turn from her game.“Yes! When I walked into the bathroom this morning he actually thought I was you!” Catra doesn't look at her but Adora sees her face become noticeably more red.“Okay, seriously, what's going on?”“Absolutely nothing.” Catra murmurs far too quickly. Adora reaches over and steals the game pad from her.“Hey!”“Catra I swear--” She sees the hard set to Catra's jaw, the way she refuses to look her in the eye. Adora softens.“Please?” She asks gently, putting a hand on Catra’s thigh. Catra’s eyes dart around the room, but they're alone, save for Kyle in the far corner with his back turned to them.“Okay.” Catra concedes, her ears pinned back. “But this is really all your fault, just so you know. Do you remember yesterday during sparring, how we were told to pick new partners? and Lonnie chose you?”Adora nods.“Well… last night, you were having some sort of… dream? Maybe it was a nightmare. You kept saying Lonnie's name.” Adora blinks. She vaguely recalls dreaming that the barracks was flooded by a sea of cockroaches sent by the Princesses and that Lonnie was lost beneath the waves.“Anyway you were being kinda loud and I tried to wake you up--usually it's not hard--but this time, I don't know. And I guess I sort of, I don't know. I pressed my cheek against yours.” “You pressed your cheek against mine?” Adora repeats, not comprehending. “Yeah, dummy, like this.” Catra leans over and rubs her cheek against Adora's. It sets off a riot of butterflies in her stomach. Catra is soft and warm and smells of safety and home. It's over far too quickly. “Anyway.” Catra scoffs as she pulls back, even though she's still blushing. “It shut you up right away, you absolute baby.”“Oh.”“Yeah.”“And that's why I smell like you?”“Probably.” Catra nods, sliding off of the bed. “Just take a shower or something if it bothers you so much.”Confused, Adora wanders to the bathrooms to do just that.---For a few days after, Catra is strangely distant. Adora doesn't understand why, and eventually the feeling thaws and they're back to being best friends. ---Some weeks later they have a brief lesson in a field training class regarding scent glands that some creatures of Etheria have. Apparently they use their glands to mark their territories to warn off competitors.Most humans can't tell these smells apart, but some of the hybrid people can, and it's important to bring them on scouting missions into the Whispering Woods to avoid confrontations with dangerous predators.--Later that night Adora corners Catra in the locker room. “Do it again.” She demands.“Do what again?” Catra scoffs, back pressed up against the cold metal of her locker. Adora doesn't bother to repeat herself. Instead, she grabs Catra's forearms, pinning her in place. Then she leans in and rubs their cheeks together.To Adora's immense delight a purr immediately forms in Catra's chest. She laughs.“Sh-shut up,” Catra stammers without any real menace.“Make me.” Adora says happily, leaning in to rub her other cheek. Catra purrs harder. “I hate you so much.” she grumbles as Adora pulls away.“No, you don't.” she laughs.“No...I don’t.” Adora grins.“Now, let's go to bed.”“That's the best idea you've had all day.”That night, Catra purrs herself to sleep, and Adora drifts off with a smile on her face.
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They're little. 4 or 5. It's one of Adora's earliest memories. This is before the Horde has stomped out all of their softness. Before they know that it's wrong to be gentle. Before they know it is a weakness.“Hey, these are your favorite, right?” Adora asks, approaching Catra in the time out corner. Catra's ears prick up. Adora's holding out a ration bar. It's one of the sweet ones they get as treats sometimes, a sticky mash of red and purple with a white paste that goes on top.Catra quickly snatches it from Adora before she can rescind the offer. Adora sits down next to Catra as her needle claws tear at the treats wrapping. Adora reaches out and puts her hand on Catra's head. She tenses at first, unsure if the touch is meant to harm or not.But then Adora's fingers start moving, and oh. That's.That's nice. Then something happens that surprises her.She starts to rumble.She stops, startled by the strangeness of it. But when Adora's fingers don't stop their petting, the urge is still there. She's young enough to not bother trying to deny it.“What's that sound you're making?” Adora questions. Catra shrugs. She rumbles, and it feels so good, both the fingers on her ears and the vibrations in her chest. “Why are you doing this?” Catra asks cautiously.Adora’s fingers pause for a moment as she considers.“Because… when you feel bad, I feel bad. I don't want to feel bad.” Catra eyes Adora out of the corner of her eye. Then she leans over and pecks Adora's cheek.She laughs, and Catra's heart swells.“What was that.” “I...I don't know.”“Do it again.” Catra complies. ---They kiss a few more times. When Catra is sick Adora kisses her forehead. When Catra gets a scraped knee and Adora kisses the scab.After Adora is told off by one of their classmates for being a ‘teacher’s pet’ Catra holds her hand and kisses it gently.They're careless about their affection. Open. Why shouldn't they be?One day Catra kisses Adora's cheek and Lonnie sees.“What did you just do? Ew? You're going to give her cooties!” It is always Catra who is in the wrong, despite being just as capable in the training room as Adora. Shadow Weaver and Octavia are cruel to Catra, and children learn by example. “Cooties? What're cooties?” Adora questions.“They're like tiny bugs that live on your lips and if they get in your skin you go crazy!” Catra's ears are pinned to the back of her head. She and Adora exchange a look. They've kissed loads of times. If tiny bugs were going to make them crazy, wouldn't it have happened already?But from then on there's a silent agreement not to kiss where other people can see them.--They’re 7 or 8. Already the Horde is instructing them, shaping them into tools of war. Adora and Catra are paired up to spar. They don't know what the word “friend” is but they know that there is an especially soft place in their chests reserved only for one another. they already know the feeling of being pulled like magnets.“Can't hit me! can't hit me!” Adora taunts, her arms up in front of her face in a block. Catra swipes uselessly at her.“Cheating! that's cheating!” And it kind of is, to be honest, but Octavia is too busy pulling Lonnie away from a sobbing Kyle to pay attention.Catra hisses in frustration and Adora giggles. Maybe that's what drives her over, because next thing Adora knows her arms are searing in pain.“Catra!” she yelps, pulling her arms away from her face to view the streaks of red on her skin. Catra pins her ears back and looks away, but her jaw is wired shut. “Oh for the love of--” Octavia lumbers over and snatches Catra up by the back of her neck. “What did we say about using claws, ah? Go sit in the corner.”“But she was--!”“Ah, ah, I don't care. Whatever it is, it's not an excuse.”“But--!”“Oh, no, wait, are you crying? Are you actually crying?” Octavia laughs, and the soft spot in Adora's chest aches.“Hey, leave her alone!” She yells, stomping one foot against the ground.“Go sit in the corner, Catra. And don't bother coming to the mess hall tonight. You're lucky I don't give you a demerit.” “But Octavia--!” Adora protests, even as Octavia grabs the collar of her shirt and maneuvers her out of the room.Later that night, when everyone else is in the locker rooms getting ready for bed, Adora makes her way into the barracks. There's a lump on her bed. She can't help but smile at the sight. Catra has her own bunk but it's only in name. In truth the bottom bunk belongs to both of them.Adora lifts the corner of the blanket to see Catra curled into a tight ball. She's pretending to be asleep. Adora might have fallen for it, if it weren't for how Catra's ear twitches in her direction.“Hi.” She whispers. “I'm sorry about Octavia. She’s a shit head.” That actually makes Catra laugh."A shit head? What's a shit head?”“I don't know… it's something I heard Octavia say to the nurse at the infirmary. It sounded mean.” Catra sits up, and Adora tucks her legs underneath her. the blanket rests on their heads, making a secret fort. a hideout that only they get to share. a place safe from the prying eyes of their dorm mates.“Look, I brought you some dinner!” She reaches into her pants and pulls out a half eaten ration bar folded in a napkin.“You got the purple kind?” Catra exclaims softly. They're her favorite. “Yeah!”“And you smuggled it here… in your pants?” Adora blushes at that. “Where else was I supposed to hide it?” She grumbles, but Catra is busy digging into the purple ration. They settle down for bed and the lights are turned out. They're lying on their sides facing each other. Catra's eyelids are heavy over her mismatched eyes, and the look of openness on her face makes Adora smile. Catra shuffles her body closer and plants her lips on Adora's cheek. It's soft. Catra's cheek brushes her own and that's soft, too, and smooth, and warm. She likes it. “How are your arms?” Her voice is barely a whisper. “They're okay.” She shrugs nonchalantly. They sting a bit but it's not really a lie.“Can I see?” “It's too dark to see.”“Not for me.”“Oh, right.” Adora brings her arms up between them and uses her right hand to unravel the bandages on her left. Silence.“Can you see them?” She whispers. In answer Catra leans in and presses her lips against the gashes, just like she did with Adora's cheek. Catra doesn't say sorry. She never says sorry. But this? Adora is certain that this is what saying sorry feels like. Her heart swells in her chest and it's safe there, safe in the soft place that Catra has built for herself and Adora doesn't think she has ever been happier.
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maybe they’re swimming, at a pool or on a beach. Adora’s back scars are exposed, they’re thick, raised white rows of tissue. Her back is a gentle red, the start of a sunburn hinting on her shoulders.Catra could tell her, but she doesn’t.She sits at the edge of the pool, hugging her knees, watching as Bright Moon’s best and brightest splash water in each other’s faces.Although the skin on her back is taking color, Adora’s scars remain white. The sun makes the flowers grow, brings light, gives heat. It’s touch is life.It does not touch Adora’s scars.“Catch!” Bow tosses out a beach ball. Adora tosses up her arms, stretching, reaching–“Ah!” She yelps, high and sharp, but she cuts the sound off half a second after it’s passed through her lips. It’s still half a second too late.“Adora?” Catra’s stomach curls at the way that Glimmers hand presses against Adora’s back.“I’m fine!” Adora insists. “I’m fine.”“Don’t lie.” Glimmer chides, voice sharp, and Catra hates her. “You never completely recovered after– you know.”“I’m fine!” Adora insists, one hand rubbing at her shoulder. She’s smiling too much. “No big deal. I’m fine. See?” She stretches out, reaching her hands up. “I’m fine.” But the condensation beading on Adora’s forehead isn’t pool water. Her fingers shake.Catra can’t be here.She leaves.Catra hasn’t been with the rebellion long enough to properly process her emotions. She’s still on Horde time. So when something that happens that upsets her she deals with her feelings in the only way she knows how.She gets violent.Her claws tear into the soft pillows on her bed sending feathers everywhere. She slashes at the wardrobe until it topples over with a loud thud. She thanks drawers from the dresser and hurls them against the stone fireplace.When one of Bright Moon’s guards opens the door to her guest room she launches a glass directly at them.It explodes against their helmet. Shards fly everywhere.Her room is a mess.She feels marginally better.Until she hears a Adora’s voice.“Catra? I’m coming in!“Catra leaps into the rafters, into the shadows.The door opens and Adora, hair still wet from the pool, peeks her head inside. The sword of protection is clasped in one hand, held low.Scabs that were beginning to heal over are ripped open and bleed anew.Silent and swift as the night she strikes. Adora, driven by some deep rooted primal instinct, turns at the last second.Catra’s weight knocks Adora onto her back.The sword of protection presses against the side of her ribcage, ready to slot between the bars like a key sliding home.“Do it,” Catra snarls, one hand clapping Adora’s shirt front and the other pressing down on her neck. She leans her weight into it. Nothing about it is gentle. Nothing about Catra is soft. Nothing about Catra is touched by the sun.“Do it!” She howls, desperate. “I won’t stop. I won’t stop until I’m dead so you had better commit, Adora you better fucking commit. I’m going to kill you. I swear I’m gonna kill you. And unlike you,” she leans in close, her cheek brushing against Adora’s. “I actually keep my promises.”Catra feels a patch of warmth on her side. She must be bleeding.The screaming snarls of hatred filling Catra’s head calm down fractionally. Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up!In the Horde, suicide is considered the ultimate weakness. She remembers one boy, Leon, several grades ahead of her. She found his body in the bathroom. Octavia took it. It. the body was an it. Not a him.No one ever said his name again.Catra never forgot.“Follow through on your threat you absolute fucking coward, you weak bitch, you traitor,” Catra’s throat hurts from how gravelly her voice is.good.But Adora.Adora decides to disappoint her.Again.The sword falls to the ground with a clatter.“You just signed your death warrant.” She wraps both hands around that pretty white neck, locking her elbows and pressing, squeezing, suffocating–Adora’s knuckles brush Catra’s cheek. A spatter of droplets darken the front of Adora’s jacket. Catra’s crying.crying?Adora, who has so easily thrown Catra off in sparring, lies still beneath her. One hand rubs the side of her thigh. The other strokes her face.There is a softness to Adora’s face Catra has only ever glimpsed when she thinks Catra isn’t looking.A sob escapes her.The dam breaks.She releases Adora’s throat.“Its okay.” Adora murmurs, her voice raspy. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I forgive you. I forgave you ages ago, Catra.” her hands are soothing and Catra doesn’t deserve them, but she languishes all the same.“All you have to do now is forgive yourself.”
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They’re sprawled out in bed together. The deep hues of the night paint the sky outside the windows, sneaking through the panes of glass to create little islands of moonlight on the floor, on the walls, on the sheets, on the cooling skin of her lover.Light painted on top of sweat on top of soft downy fur on top of relaxed muscles, still, now, but only moments ago quivering and tensing and surging with power. She is a sight to behold. Adora can hardly breathe for the awe of it.This is not the first time they have been here. It will not be the last.The experience is the same every time. It is new every time.The covers are tangled around their feet. The entirety of Catra is on display.Adora has never been more in love.Her fingers burn with the need to touch, and Adora has no strength with which to deny them. She reaches out. Connects. There is satisfaction in the simpleness; the assertion of being. Of act and react, of give and receive, of knowing she can do.There is more satisfaction in the sensation of soft skin beneath her hands.There are many types of giving and receiving in this world. This one, however, of giving and taking carnal pleasure, of witnessing a vulnerability so often shielded… this is a privilege only Adora is allowed to indulge in.And indulge she does.She revels in it.Catra sleeps with her chest down, her hips twisted beneath her to angle towards Adora. Her arms are tucked up beneath her, hands curled beneath her chin. Her face is smooth, the lines of mischief gone only while she rests.Dark stripes curl around her bicep. Adora traces them with an air of familiarity, of having done this a thousand times before. She is delighted to find she wants to do it a thousand times more. This woman never ceases to amaze her and that in and of itself is an amazement. She is a book Adora will never tire of reading.The dark stripes on her skin are contrasted by dozens of small white slashes. Scars. Battle scars. Scars from fighting with Adora. Scars from fighting with the world. Scars from arrows piercing her skin. A deep slash across her back from the sword of protection. A nick on her hand from slamming a door on it. A gouge across the back of one thigh from falling off a skiff.Scars from fighting.But there are also others.Scars where there was no fight. Not a fair one at any rate. Scars of cruelty. Scars of imbalance. Scars Adora had seen but failed to question. Failed to question because she knew. deep down she knew. and she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to dig that up, unearth this dead thing, this ugly dead thing that still somehow, hungers.She does now what she has been too scared to for months. She owes it to Catra. She owes it to this woman with star struck skin, to read the tapestry of her skin, even the parts that hurt. Especially the parts that hurt.They look like lighting. They strike across the planes of her back, zig zagging beneath the fur across her spine. Adora gently parts the fur, following the path of raised ropy skin.It forks more than once. It’s a giant river, splitting into tributaries. This one curves around Catra’s hip and across her pelvis, trailing off into a delta.Adora has kissed it many times. She’s never put much thought into it.There are others like this, mouths starting at one shoulder, the back of her neck, currents running across her form, interrupting her beautiful patterning of dark brown stripes.“‘Dora?” Catra murmurs sleepily. “Hey.” Her voice is stronger this time. Her eyes are bright in the dark. Adora focuses on the point of contact between her hand and the lightning scars.A gentle touch to her face. Catra’s palm cups her jaw.“Talk to me.”“Its nothing.” She doesn’t get, but she has to fight to get the words out. They’re thick in her mouth. She has to separate them from the other noises that threaten to spill out.“Bullshit.” Catra’s thumb strokes her cheek. Adora inhales deeply to fortify herself.it backfires.Her exhale is a shuddering sob.Dammit.“I-I’m being so selfish.”“You? Selfish?” Catra’s eyebrows shoot up. “I will eat my own foot if that’s true.”A pathetic wet laugh trickles past her lips.“I–” She chokes again. Swallows. sobs. Crying is such a useless activity.Her fingertips trace over the wrinkled texture of one scar.“Those aren’t your fault.”“They are.” The words are tiny in their giant room. They’re so big they’re taking all the air from her lungs.“They aren’t.” Catra says, firmer. She moves to sit up, and Adora’s hand falls off her side. Catra twists, bringing her foot up to her sharp canines.“What are you doing!” Adora yelps, reaching out to stop her.“Eating my foot. I was wrong. You are being selfish.”Adora puts her hand on Catra’s calf but she doesn’t look at her. She can feel her lover’s eyes burning her skin in the dark.“You don’t get to blame yourself for everything, Adora.” Her voice is so steady, so sure. Adora cliings to this life raft in the tumultuous sea threatening to drown her.“You didn’t do this. You couldn’t stop this. You–you are the strongest person I know. But you can’t control everything. And I know that’s hard for you–but Adora, baby, It’s not weak to admit you had no power. It’s not weakness to forgive yourself.”Oh, Gods. Catra puts the stars in her skies. She just wants to do the same in kind. Adora reaches out, and crashes her body into Catra’s. Catra receives her openly. Act and react. Give and take. Catra gives.Adora is happy to take.
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And like of course Catra knows a few things about herself but the Horde is pretty lacking in child care education and neither Adora nor Catra have met anyone else like her so there is definitely a degree of winging it (which Adora HATES, by the way, before the kids were born she wrote down a by the minute feeding/bathing/napping schedule and Catra absolutely knew that wasn’t going to happen but she knows that it’s a coping mechanism for Adora’s anxiety so she let her do it but yeah like as soon as the kids were born the schedule was totally forgotten about)One of the babies is on Adora’s chest and the other is on Catra’s and they’re both sitting on the sofa together and everyone is EXHAUSTED because one of the kids ate an entire container of supplementary herbs (it was Kyra. It was definitely Kyra. She puts EVERYTHING in her mouth. The legs of all their tables are ruined from teeth marks.) and they had to rushed her to the medical center as soon as they could, terrified they would have to pump their new baby’s stomach, but after an attendant assures them that it’s fine (and then because Adora is capital P Panicking, dragging Perfuma out of bed and having her check the empty container and poke at their squirmy baby’s tummy a lot and telling them it’s FINE OKAY ADORA SHE JUST HAS ENOUGH VITAMIN C FOR LIKE A WEEK) so nothing happened and everyone’s okay but it was emotionally taxing. And they’re slumped on their sofa pressed up thigh to thigh shoulder to shoulder, Kyra on Adora’s chest and Ezra on Catra’s, one hand braced against their baby’s butts, the others twined together with one another. Catra closes her eyes and inhales deeply, soaking in the scent of her wife, of the warmth of the child on her chest, the way he nuzzles closer and presses his face into the nook under her chin. And she’s happy. She’s so happy. Because this was a mess. It was a minor disaster. But you know what? Everything is okay. And she got to do it with the support of her favorite person in the entire world. She got to have a parent freak out experience. And that…that’s great. That’s excellent. Because who was there to have a parent freak out incident for her and Adora when they were kids? Ezra and Kyra are so loved and so wanted. If the warm feeling in her chest expands any further she’ll explode. To give the emotion some outlet, she starts to purr. Lets it out gentle and slow. It starts out quiet but gradually increases. Suddenly there’s a squeak from her side.“Prrt?” Catra trills, opening her eyes to look over at Adora who is staring down at Kyra in shock.“She’s….Catra?? Catra our child is buzzing?” Adora yelps, but this time Catra doesn’t jump onto the panic train. Doesn’t need to. “Adora, she’s purring.” “I thought you said Magicats don’t purr.”“That’s correct. I do not purr.” Catra reaches over for Kyra, who Adora helps slide onto her chest beside Ezra.“Oh, right.” Adora smirks, catching on. “You growl. Friendly like.”“Glad we are on the same page.” They sit there, Adora with her legs curled up beneath her, turned towards Catra and looking down at their babies with wonder.“She’s so loud!” Catra has to stop to laugh. “She is. She’s a little motor–hey! Ezra’s started, too!” Adora eagerly reaches out to place a hand on the back of their orange kit. Her palm almost covers the entirety of his striped back."Oh my Gods.” She exclaims softly in what can only be described as unadulterated delight. "I love you.” Catra says. She can’t help it. It just slips out. And it’s not the first time she’s said it, but traditionally Catra doesn’t express her affection verbally. Adora looks at her, eyes shining. Catra looks down.“And I love our children.” Adora leans in and kisses her fiercely. A little squeak sounds out from between them.“Sorry, sorry,” Adora immediately apologizes, moving to soothe the little bundles she almost squished. She kisses their little heads and rubs circles around the backs of their heads behind their ears, eliciting more of the little buzzing noises. It’s worth it. Everything that happened to them. All of it was worth it for this single moment. Her buzzing babies and her loving wife. Catra sighs and closes her eyes, purring herself and her babies and her wife, their little family to sleep.