#also we love shadowhunter aus if u read shadowhunters ur third eye is open just saying

[jeserai]

Angst no.8 + fluff no.9 for the sentence starters please? I'm in need of some angst/comfort stuff

8. “Is that blood?” “…No?”9. “Sleep over? Please?”

And though she’s not looking at Catra, she knows that Catra is going to be giving her that confused, annoyed look, so she recites, “‘for whither thou goest, I will go.’ I won’t let you do this—whatever it is—alone. If you want to fight, and bleed, and get hurt, I will be there with you.”

8. “Is that blood?” “…No?”

Adora silently jerks awake just past 3am, her hand already on the dagger kept under her bed. As she swings it out, a familiar hand catches it; Catra curses and then collapses on her bed, no doubt glaring at her. “What the fuck, Adora?”

“Oh.” Adora loosens her grip on the dagger and Catra takes it by the blade before tossing it onto the floor as Adora blinks the sleep from her eyes. “And don’t what the fuck me, what are you doing up so late and sneaking into my room?”

“Um, none of your business,” Catra sniffs. She stands with a groan, and Adora listens to her parabatai crack her back as she settles back into her pillow. And then she sniffs, and freezes.

“Catra.”

“Yeah, princess?”

“Is that blood?”

A long pause. “…No?”

With a heavy sigh that Adora sincerely hopes conveys all of her exasperation, she sits up and swings out of bed. “Come on, Catra.”

And surprisingly, Catra follows without even a bit of snark. She even reaches for Adora’s hand to let herself be tugged through the Institute and up to the training room, where Adora pushes her down to the floor and sits across from her, careful fingers easing up her shirt. Adora hisses as she sees the wound, deep and bleeding freely, and she reaches a hand out in a wordless demand as Catra reaches for her stele. She doesn’t flinch or wince when Adora begins to draw careful iratzes despite the way it must burn; all Catra does when Adora glances up at her is stare down at the floor, scowling.

“I really hope that wasn’t from a werewolf,” Adora tries, “I don’t want to have to fight a whole pack again.”

Usually, a remark like that would earn her a snarky remark or at least a roll of Catra’s eyes, but now she just huffs and shrugs. “It’s fine, princess.”

“Catra, I just—”

“It’s fine,” Catra snaps. As soon as Adora finishes, Catra bats her away, rolling down her shirt and grabbing her stele. “By the Angel, Adora,  I’m not a kid! We’re Shadowhunters, this is what we do. We fight and we bleed and we get hurt and we die, this is our life.”

Adora forces her voice to remain calm despite the way she wants to shake some sense into Catra. “I know that, but I don’t want to just sit here and watch you do this to yourself; you’re my parabatai. We swore it, Catra, ‘where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried.’”

For a moment, Adora is sure that Catra is going to concede and come to bed, but then she stands ramrod straight and shakes her head. “I’m going.”

And though she’s exhausted, and upset, and annoyed beyond belief at her hotheaded parabatai, Adora stands and grabs her sword from the weapons rack. “Let me get dressed then.” And though she’s not looking at Catra, she knows that Catra is going to be giving her that confused, annoyed look, so she recites, “‘for whither thou goest, I will go.’ I won’t let you do this—whatever it is—alone. If you want to fight, and bleed, and get hurt, I will be there with you.”

When Adora turns, she finds Catra touching her heart, her fingertips brushing against the tip of the rune that lies inked on both of their chests, the rune that binds them for life. She doesn’t smile when their gazes meet, but something in her face relaxes, and she nods. “Meet me outside in five minutes.” Thank you.

“I’ll be there in three.”

You’re welcome.

9. “Sleep over? Please?”

Catra decides that she is absolutely going to kill Adora’s new friends the first chance she gets. A little bit because they called her at 3am on a Tuesday night, and partially because they called her drunk out of their minds at 3am on a Tuesday night, and mostly because they had the nerve to tell her to come pick Adora up at 3am on a Tuesday night, as if everything between her and Adora is still okay.

She hadn’t even spoken to Adora, just to stupid fucking Shimmer, and in the background she could hear the sound of someone puking and a few voices yelling. Glitter said to hurry up in a very panicked voice, and then Catra hung up. For a moment, Catra lay in bed, phone tossed somewhere by her feet, and for a long, long few minutes, she contemplated staying in bed, going back to sleep, and having the quiet satisfaction in knowing that somewhere, Adora was puking her guts up after drinking too much.

And then those moments passed, and Catra swung herself out of bed, pulled on a jacket, and stomped outside.

And now here she is, waiting outside the Rebellion at 3:23 in the morning, waiting for stupid fucking Shimmer and stupid fucking Adora to come outside. They do, eventually; Bow is half-carrying, half-dragging Adora to Catra’s car, and he at least has the nerve to look apologetic. He struggles for a few minutes with the car door handle, and Catra only gets out to help him because she wants to get back to bed. Adora shoved inside the passenger seat, Catra turns to Bow and silently stares him down, sure her expression will convey how absolutely pissed she is.

“I am so sorry, it’s just—she’s really drunk, and—you—well,” quietly, head ducked in shame, Bow says, “none of us know where she lives.”

And oh, Catra is going to kill them. All she says though, is, “Give me gas money,” and turn on her heel when Bow digs out two wrinkled ten dollar bills. Catra waits for him to get back inside the bar and then turns to Adora, who sits quietly with her eyes closed and her head lolled back. For a moment, Catra wonders if she’s passed out, but then Adora’s eyes shoot open and she stares at Catra, dumbstruck.

“Catra! How’d you get here?” she questions. She leans forward and yelps as she loses control of her body, and she is so lucky Catra knows her well enough to have put out a hand to catch her.

Should’ve let her fall, Catra thinks, but she gently pushes Adora back and leans towards her to fasten her seatbelt. Only because she doesn’t want Adora to forget herself and fall over again while she’s driving, even if the image is pretty funny to imagine. When she finishes with the seatbelt and looks up, Catra finds Adora still staring at her, cheeks flushed and eyes dark. Her gaze is trained on Catras lips, and Catra can feel her body heat from how close they are, and for a moment, Catra is pulled back into Adora’s orbit, helpless as always to escape. But then she remembers herself, remembers how Adora so easily left her, and she tears herself away completely.

“Alright, princess,” she mutters, “let’s get you home.”

“Home!” Adora parrots happily, “we’re going home! Wait, where’s Glimmer? Where is everyone—Catra, we have to go back!”

“Why, did you leave them too? Funny, because I don’t remember you ever coming back for me.”

Adora stays quiet, and Catra glances at her out of the corner of her eye as she drives, startled to find a frown fixed on Adora’s face. Her voice is surprisingly steady when she whispers, “I never meant to leave you,” and Catra’s heart stutters, but then Adora’s head lolls to the side and she presses her hand against the window, humming off-key to herself.

Typical.

“Yeah, well. Just don’t puke in my car and we’re good.”

“I puked on Bow’s shoes,” Adora dutifully reports, “they were new, too.”

And honestly, that almost makes up for this shitty night.

“You’re still such a lightweight, Adora.”

Adora giggles in response and says something about kitty cats. Catra ignores this and fixes her eyes firmly on the road as she takes the achingly familiar path to Adora’s house. A year, she thinks, it’s been a year and she still hasn’t forgotten. Adora has carved her mark into Catra’s heart so deeply that she could find her way here blindfolded with no trouble after a whole year of avoiding her. And Adora’s new friends couldn’t even be bothered to figure out her address—

Catra takes a deep breath, and stiffens when she feels a warm, familiar hand high on her thigh. “Kitten,” Adora mumbles, “calm down.” It’s been a whole year, but Adora can still read her so easily, inebriated as she is. And it’s been a whole year, but Catra’s body still reacts to Adora’s touch, her shoulders relaxing and her heart unclenching as Adora rubs gentle circles against Catra’s thigh.

God, she’s pathetic.

“I’m fine, Adora. I don’t need you babying me, I never did.” Which is a lie, because Adora never babied her, only talked her down from countless anxiety attacks and fits of anger. But Catra doesn’t have Adora anymore, so she’s learned to take care of herself again. She doesn’t need Adora, never did.

But Adora’s hand stays there, warm even through Catra’s sweats, and Catra leaves it there.

When they pull up to Adora’s house, Adora whines and pouts and absolutely refuses to go in, even after Catra threatens to drag her by the hair. “You don’t even have a key,” she says triumphantly, and Catra just rolls her eyes, because Adora always keeps a spare taped underneath the mailbox, and besides.

She still has her key that Adora never took back, tucked safely (stupidly) away in the glove compartment.

“Come on, Adora. Jesus fuck, I’m exhausted, get up.”

And when Adora does not, Catra leans over her, unbuckles her seatbelt, and yanks her out of the car, ignoring Adora’s cry of surprise and pain when she is dragged out of the car and onto the ground. Catra’s never been as strong as Adora, but she’d hit the gym with Scorpia after the break up, and all those hours are clearly paying off, because it’s easier than Catra ever thought it would be to get Adora up and carry her up the walkway and to the front door. Adora whines when Catra finds the key and slides it home, and something in Catra’s heart stutters again when she makes her way inside again.

After a year, everything is still the same. There are pictures of them still up, and the couch is still where Catra loved and Adora hated, and—

Maybe, maybe, Adora still hurts too, the same way Catra does, deep inside where no one else knows. She just lets it show differently.

Catra shoves the thought away and kicks off her shoes, letting them fall messily onto the floor. Adora promptly slurs out a half-hearted protest, and it almost feels like it used to, when Catra would kick her shoes off because she was too lazy to keep them tidy, and Adora would protest, and Catra would shut her up with a gentle kiss. She’d always straighten her shoes after, just to see Adora’s sunny smile, but all she does now is drag Adora to her room and drop her none too gently against the bed. Adora groans and rolls over, and Catra watches in amusement as Adora fumbles for her pillow to smush her face into it.

“Gonna get you some water,” she says, mostly to herself. Adora groans again and Catra watches in the door for a moment to make sure she’s okay. Other than her shoes on the bed—Adora is going to freak out about that in the morning—she seems fine, so Catra leaves.

When she gets back, Adora has somehow managed to sit up, but her eyes are still closed and she startles when Catra knocks on the open door. She opens her eyes and smiles wide when she sees Catra, then she frowns. “Catra! Where’d you go?”

“I told you, I went to get you some water. You need to drink it, Adora.”

Adora’s petulant frown only deepens and she shakes her head. “Not thirsty.”

“I don’t care, drink it anyway.”

Eventually, Catra manages to make Adora take a few sips of the water before letting her lay down again. As Catra places the glass down on the side table, Adora catches her wrist and weakly tugs. “Are you leaving?”

“Yes, Adora, I’m leaving. I have work in the morning.”

Catra’s words only make Adora clutch at her tighter, and Catra makes the mistake of looking over at her and into her wide, sad eyes. “Sleep over? Please?” Adora asks, and her voice is quiet, all of her vulnerability laid bare for Catra to see.

And Catra could say no. It would be so easy to, to pull away and leave the house, but Catra has always been weak for Adora, and it’s always been so easy for Catra to fall back into Adora’s orbit.

So she stays. Just for tonight, she stays.