#so if it weren’t putting pressure on my windpipe i would literally be fine

[2screamingpears]

i feel like my body has betrayed me :(

[detectivedreameater]

Three To Be Ready|| Morgan and Marley

TIMING: Thursday, Oct. 8th PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: This is why the town tourism board advises against evening cemetery strolls. CONTENT: Gore, Body horror

Marley was getting real tired of yelling at teenagers for hanging out in cemeteries. But here she was, patrolling through one because the precinct got a phone call about some kids knocking over headstones again. If it were up to her, they’d all spend a night or two in lock up, by themselves-- that would change their minds real quick about doing shit. Sure, it wasn’t the worst thing they could be doing, but it was interrupting her job and she wanted them to stop. At least it was nearly night, so any vampires who decided to pay a visit would surely get a surprise. Maybe she’d give the kids a healthy dose of fear, instead. Let them live out their own nightmares. Though...she knew how that felt, now. Seeing your nightmares come to life. She might have slaughtered the thing in the basement with Jane, but she could still remember it. It and the real thing. All she wanted now was to move on. Move past what happened. 

When she made it to the cemetery, however, the place was completely silent. Maybe the kids had moved on, but they could have also been hiding in one of the mausoleums, which meant Marley had to go check them. She was halfway up the hill when she spotted a figure. Even through the dusk light she knew who it was. Furrowing her brow, she stopped a ways away from her. “Are cemeteries like the new clubs or something?” she said loudly, hands on her hips. She didn’t have her glasses on, but her eyes did not glow yet. Only a little bit longer. “Why do people insist on hanging out in them? You don’t happen to be this group of teenagers knocking headstones over, do you? Cause that would make my job much easier.”

Morgan was trying to convince herself that cutting through the cemetery alone was a totally fine and not at all dangerous course of action. It was like a corpse walk, but by herself! And those were fine. The ghosts on those were just friendly bystanders and acquaintances, not demented murderers still working out how zombies died. This was fine. She just needed to make it down the hill and around a few more blocks, and she would be fine… The voice in the quiet made her jump, squealing with shock. “Who’s there! I have salt!” She cried, scrambling for composure. She stumbled into the open, where she could at least see someone coming, her hand already brimming with salt crystals. But there was no one except for… “Marley Stryder?” Reluctantly, she poured her handful of salt back into its pouch. “I’m surprised you’re not a fan, Detective Edgelord. They’re really good for brooding.” She dusted her hands off and approached the officer with caution. The memory of what she’d done to Deirdre was still fresh in Morgan’s mind, but she was relieved to not be alone, at least for the moment. “If you don’t like cemeteries, Edgelord, what are you doing lurking in one?”

Marley frowned at the name. She really hated it. But she wasn’t going to show Morgan  that, it would just give her fuel to use it even more. “Cemeteries are depressing as fuck,” she answered finally, folding her arms across her chest. “Why would I hang out here when I could go literally anywhere else?” She scoffed, rolled her eyes. “Hello? Police officer here,” she grumbled, motioning to herself as she headed up the path towards her. “Doing my duty and checking out a disturbance call.” But she didn’t see any over turned graves or fallen headstones. Behind Morgan there was a mausoleum, the door slightly open. A shuffling could be heard inside. Shit, were they in there again? Marley shoved past Morgan without another word, and went up to the doorway. Pulled out her flashlight, one hand on her holster, as she prodded the door open. “If there’s anyone in here, put your hands up and stand up slowly,” she called, before peering in. But the place was empty. There was nothing. “Huh…” she muttered, “I could’ve sworn…” But in the next moment, there was a noise above her and Marley looked up just in time to see something on the roof. In the next second, it was descending on Morgan. 

“They’re peaceful,” Morgan said back. “And this one’s actually taken care of! It’s beautiful. The ghosts like it too. Hey, Chuck.” She waved at someone past Marley, or pretended to, knowing the detective probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. “And what disturbance?” She gestured around to the nothing going on around them. And that’s when it happened. Just a noise, nothing too conspicuous to Morgan’s ears, but as she tiptoed behind Marley, calling out, “How do you even know it’s a human or a person at all?” What if it was a vampire trying to get a good day’s sleep or relax until sundown? “See!” She said. “Maybe you scared some squirrel away or—fuck!” She was on her back, flailing under something that felt like a giant bug. Morgan covered her face with her arm, screaming. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ She wriggled underneath, kicking wildly, but this thing, whatever it was, was so heavy and something like a hand was pulling on her hair.

No way. No way. “No fucking way!” Marley shouted, stumbling back. “I killed you!” She was nearly frozen in her spot, one hand still on her weapon. “I fucking killed you!” But it didn’t seem to care. It didn’t even seem to hear her or see her or care about her. It was tearing ruthlessly at the zombie it had pinned to the ground. Shit. She whipped out her gun and fired a few good rounds into it, but-- nothing. It barely even moved. So she ran up to kick at it, only to be shoved out of the way and tripped. Dirt and grass filled her mouth, but she rolled quickly to try and right herself. The thing was dragging Morgan towards the mausoleum. It was making her its new prey. Did demons eat undead? “Hey!” she shouted, picking up a rock and throwing it. “There should be a-- underneath! Hit it underneath! Or-or bite it! Jane bit it and it let go of--” well, no, it hadn’t actually let go of anything when Jane had eaten through it. She wasn’t sure Morgan wanted to stomach this thing, and she wasn’t sure she could stomach watching another zombie eat this thing again. If this was even the same thing. Why wasn’t it wearing a pink hat anymore? Had been wearing one back when her and Nell had stumbled upon it? She needed something bigger, something sharper-- like the ax. She took a second to look around for something, anything-- and when she looked back the creature was nearly through the door. “Fuck!” she picked up the closest thing she could find, a larger stick, and ran straight for it. And hoped to god this would work.

“No! Fuck, no, no—!” Morgan clawed the ground with all she hand, but there was nothing to grab onto. The thing had her by the legs and waist and no matter what she did with her feet, no matter how she screamed, nothing slowed it down. Morgan could see the dark coming for her and the inhuman face flashing a hungry mouth her way as it made its shrill sound again.

Think. Do something. Do better. Morgan felt her knife riding out of her pocket and grabbed it before it was gone for good. Her arms were too short to free her legs, but she could try to get the hand on her hair severed. If she could just— Morgan screamed as something caught her wrist and bent it so far her hand turned into a limp, dangling mess. The knife was gone and the hands weren’t just in her hair anymore, they were around her face and neck, smothering her, closing around her neck. Morgan let out a muffled scream, looking at Marley for help. Any concern or intelligent thought she had was peeled away. The only thing left was, I can’t die here. Don’t let me die here. 

Marley swung the stick down as hard as she could on the monster. Did it have more hands than last time? Wasn’t it just one hand last time? She blinked, and Morgan was looking at her with those big, stupid eyes of hers. And she was begging Marley to do something. Hadn’t Marley already killed this thing? Twice now? She shook the thought from her head. The stick came down, but nothing changed. The door was shutting. Marley slipped through quickly. She picked up the knife and stabbed at the thing. Kicked it. Why didn’t it want her? Wasn’t it supposed to want her? “Let go!” she shouted, stabbing furiously. “Fucking-- let go!” This wasn’t working. She jabbed the knife back down into the creature, turned and grabbed Morgan’s hand. Pulled as hard as she could, hoping she wasn’t just going to pull Morgan’s damn arm off. Then again if it did, maybe she could just beat the thing with that. She didn’t know why she was trying so hard. Morgan had been nothing but mean to her. She’d looked at her the same way everyone in her life had up until now. Maybe that was why she was so desperate to prove her wrong. “Fight, dammit!” she shouted to Morgan, kicking at the creature as she held onto her arm. “Don’t give up you stupid zombie!”

Morgan clutched onto Marley like a lifeline. Fight how? With what? She let out another muffled scream as her broken hand fixed itself. The sound was throaty and broken, crawling its way through the pressure on her windpipe. Morgan dug her fingers into Marley, beyond bruising. She was already half in the mausoleum, the dark was closing in. Morgan kicked more wildly, flailing and wriggling. I’m not dying here. I’m not dying broken and afraid. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t… With their combined weight, they were slowing down. Morgan needed one more hand to get the pressure off her neck before her head popped clean off. She opened her mouth and bit hard enough to make her jaw pop and hurt. Something snapped—was it her teeth? The creature’s fingers? Didn’t matter. The grip loosened and she was able to let out a throaty cry. “Can we shoot it?” She rasped. “What do we—fuck!”

The creature’s grip was loosening. They were winning. Well, winning wasn’t quite the right word. But the grip was loosening and it gave Morgan enough leverage to pull the thing off from her throat and Marley let go with one hand, screeching as Morgan’s fingers dug into her arm hard enough to break skin. God, why wasn’t it night yet? “I shot it like four times and it did nothing! I need something bigger, I need--” her grip slipped and the monster yanked and Morgan’s hand slipped right through Marley’s, leaving streaks of blue down her arm. “Fuck!” she whirled. There had to be something, there had to be-- an idea struck her. Marley picked up that stupid stick she’d found and dug into her pocket. Ripped off a piece of cloth from the mausoleum wall, old and dry and perfect. She set it aflame, wrapped it around the stick, and charged for the creature. Jabbed the flame directly into the wound she’d stabbed before and listened as the thing screamed with such a pained bellow that it finally let go of Morgan completely. Marley stumbled back as something hard collided with her stomach as the monster reeled and screamed and lashed out. She scrambled, grabbing at Morgan and yanking her away from the thing. Its body, just as dry and crusted as the old rag, lit ablaze as if it were doused in accelerant. “C’mon,” she called to Morgan, still tugging on her, “we gotta get out of here! Go!”

Morgan didn’t hesitate, she grabbed Marley again, hand locked on with all her strength, and ran. She wasn’t sure why the cemetery gates looked so special, like a magic barrier that couldn’t be crossed by evil, but as she ran, pulling Marley behind her, she was sure if they could make it through, everything would be okay. She would get home, she would kiss her girlfriend, she would never go anywhere without her car again, not alone, and everything would be okay. They just needed to make it. She leapt the last few paces, over a crumbling headstone and the curb, and turned the corner, out of sight from anything that might be after them. “T-thank you,” she wheezed. “I know you...definitely don’t like me...so, thank you.”

 Marley wasn’t really sure what was happening. She was being dragged along almost faster than her feet could keep up with, running through the cemetery fields, leaping over headstones. She turned more than once to look behind them and see if they were being followed. But she saw nothing, and she hoped quietly she hadn’t just set an entire plot on fire. They reached the exit, and it almost felt like walking through a veil, from darkness to safety. Marley let out a long breath and bent over, hands on her knees, panting. Zombies didn’t get tired but mara sure did. She looked over at Morgan warily. “I wasn’t gonna let you fucking die....just because I don’t like you,” she grumbled through her panting. Winced when she moved her arm, pulling her sleeve up. Angry, blue streaks marked her forearm, bruises forming on her hand. She frowned. “Talk about not knowing...your strength…”

“I’m sorry,” Morgan mumbled, wincing as her windpipe expanded back into shape. “I wasn’t really thinking about moderation. I just didn’t want you to get left behind.” It was not a phrase she would have expected herself to say as recently as this morning or an hour ago, not to Marley Stryder. But when someone saved your life, you didn’t let a grudge get in the way of leaving together. Her face scrunched up with morbid fascination at Marley’s wounds. She’d never seen anything like that before. “Are you uh...okay?”

“It’s…” Marley started, then looked away, “whatever.” She looked back down at her arm-- she’d have to clean the wounds later, right now she needed to call in a possible fire hazard. Log this and make sure she came back at night to confirm the thing was actually dead this time. How many times had she killed it now? Would it just keep coming back? She needed to ask Nell to tell her everything about this stupid, fucking demon. She needed to-- “What?” Morgan had said something, but Marley hadn’t heard it. She looked over to her. “Oh, uh--” cleared her throat, rolling her sleeve back down. “Fine. Just a flesh wound. Zombieism doesn’t spread through scratches, right? That’s just TV propaganda?”

“It’s a biting thing,” Morgan confirmed. “Supernaturals can’t even be turned, they just get really sick. Although,” she smirked bitterly, “Without a really good healer they can still die, they just don’t get to come back to all the fun dissociation games and bland diet. Maybe uh, get something a little stronger than Neosporin on that, to be on the safe side.” She met Marley’s eyes for a brief moment, uncertain how to act around her now that they weren’t trying to one up each other or compete for Erin’s attention. She offered a small smile and fussed with the mud and scrapes on her arms, already healing. “For someone who’s such an asshole, you really do have a pretty sizable amount of decency in you, Marley. It’s a shame you don’t show it more often.”

“Gross,” was all Marley said. She moved away awkwardly, looking around them. The sun was finally dipping below the horizon and her eyes began to glow a soft red, but it was too little too late. Anita would probably want to know why there were scratches on her arms and Marley wasn’t sure she really wanted to explain it. Glancing back at Morgan, she furrowed her brow. “If you think not leaving someone to die is basic decency, then I guess I’d hate to see what you think is cruel,” she muttered, wiping some of the dirt off her pants. “I was just doing my job, don’t be nice to me just because of that.” 

“I don’t just mean not being completely psychotic, although, you know, before the bowling alley, you kinda hand me wondering.” Morgan replied. “I just mean...I think I see you, Marley Stryder. You could stand to be less afraid of your own shadow.” But Marley was not looking anywhere near her, and was starting to seem uncomfortable all over. “Whatever,” she sighed. “Don’t get killed while you’re brainstorming a stupid lie to tell the humans at the station, huh?”

Marley gave a gallow chuckle. “Yeah, well...so did everyone else in my life.” She had finally caught her breath enough to stand up properly, rubbing her non bruised hand across her eyes. “Well, just...don’t.” It was a truth she didn’t often confront, but faced now with someone who thought her a monster and was deciding to take her word back, Marley didn’t know how to feel. So, instead, she took the out offered to her. She didn’t need to respond to Morgan, just gave a nod, before turning away and heading off. Now, she just needed to think of a stupid lie to tell the humans.

[vanilla107]

Flirting on the Battlefield (Part 1)

“Did...did you just moan-?” Catra asked, a grin spreading across her face and her eyes twinkling in mirth.

“No! I-I did not!” Adora yelled, her voice high pitched. Glimmer and Bow’s voices were getting louder and Catra knew she had to leave.

Catra chuckled and leaned closer to Adora’s face, the saviour of Brightmoon, completely still underneath her.

“Well, Adora. If that wasn’t a sign of desire...then I don’t know what is.” ************** The Horde's last mission was a failure and Catra knows if she doesn't produce results, there will be consequences. After receiving some advice from Entrapta, she tries a new tactic, one that starts to work a little too well...

I think this is my fourth She Ra fanfiction and it's unhealthy. I literally can't stop thinking of this show and I NEED SEASON TWO NOW. Anyway, I feel like this is something Catra would totally try to do to get the upper hand! I hope you all enjoy reading it! Remember that comments, indeed make me combust with happiness.

Stay healthy! vanilla107 xoxo

SHE RA MASTERLIST

AO3

****************

Catra banged her fist on the table in frustration.

“Dammit! How did they beat us again?” she yelled and Scorpia watched the feline pace up and down in their boardroom.

Catra, Scorpia and Entrapta where all together, trying to come up with new plan on how to conquer Brightmoon. Their last mission hadn’t been a success. If anything, it had been a disaster and one of their worst missions so far.

“Maybe it’s because they’re princesses and they have magical powers and we don’t?” asked Scorpia and Catra ran a hand down her face in annoyance.

“I know that Scorpia. We all do.”

A loud boom came from the adjoined room and Catra groaned.

“Entrapta, there better not be anything broken in there!” she yelled and the only response was a giggle.

“Nope! Everything’s fine! I needed to test out two new chemicals and observe their reactions. Now, what seems to be the main problem at hand?”

Catra lost it and screamed in frustration.

She flipped their planning table which had all their failed plans scatter on the floor. Her sudden rage shocked Scorpia. Sure, the princess had seen Catra angry but this...this was anger on another level.

“We have to get better! We can’t let this constantly happen! Hordak is expecting results and I can only afford to screw up a few times. There is no way I’ll be compared to Shadow Weaver’s failures!” Catra roared. She paced around the room, her frustrations slowly seeping away.

She walked over to their board of all the princesses in the alliance. Adora was right in the center and Catra sighed as she knocked her head against the photo.

“I have to report to Hordak next week and if there’s no improvement...I might lose my position of Force Captain...or worse,” she whispered and she felt Scorpia place a pincer on her shoulder.

“I understand your frustration but what can we do? We’ve tried everything...stealing Adora’s sword, stealing it while she was She ra, capturing Glimmer, capturing Angella...I think we’ve run out of ideas…” Scorpia murmured.

“What? No we haven’t! Catra obviously needs to use her knowledge in her relationship with Adora to her advantage!” Entrapta said cheerfully while she tinkered with a mini robot.

Catra and Scorpia stared at the scientist and she looked at them with a smile on her face.

“Um...can you please repeat that in normal non-science speech?” asked Scorpia and Entrapta sighed.

“Catra knew Adora when they were little kids. Catra should know Adora’s fears and desires. Maybe we can get some sort of plan from that,” she explained and Catra stared long and hard at Adora’s photo.

Suddenly, her eyes lit up and she smirked as she ripped off Adora’s picture from the board.

“I think...I think I have an idea.”

**************************

It was a few weeks later when the Horde attacked Brightmoon. The team was on a skiff awaiting their orders.

“Remember the plan. You guys keep the princesses from assisting She ra. I’ll take her head on and proceed to put my plan into place. Understood?” Catra said, her sharp tone of her voice rattling a few soldiers.

There was a chorus of ‘Yes Force Captain Catra!” and she grinned widely as she saw Brightmoon up ahead.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

***************************

Catra gasped in pain as she was slammed against a boulder, She ra’s hand holding her neck firmly in place. They were in a shallow pond while the rest of the Horde fought the princesses on the other side of the kingdom. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over everything. Catra hated to admit it, but She ra looked breathtaking in the gold light but she had to stay focused. They weren’t too far apart and Catra noticed how blue She ra’s eyes were.

“What happened to all your training, Catra? What happened to you always striking first?” She ra gloated and Catra felt her blood boil.

Calm down. Just wait.

“Sorry, I got lost in your eyes. Can you repeat that?” Catra asked, her voice coming out a little lower than usual since her windpipe was under pressure but her tone still sounded seductive.

It was a bad pick up line but she knew it would be enough to confuse She ra for a good second so that she could escape her grip. She ra’s grip around her neck immediately loosened and she looked dumbfounded.

“What did you just say-? Ahh!” she screamed as Catra jabbed her side and escaped her grip.

Catra wasted no time in punching She ra in the stomach and roundhouse kicking her. The princess fell on her knees, clutching her stomach in pain.

“You know, She ra, this whole princessy get up of yours always confused me. Are you still the same Adora I know or do you suddenly feel entitled and put yourself on a pedestal because you’re ‘oh so high and mighty’?” Catra asked as she knelt down and grabbed her collar and yanked the princess closer to her.

She ra gasped in pain and Catra laughed.

“All this princess power and you still got your ass handed to you. I had high hopes for you She ra.”

Before Catra could say another word, the princess grabbed Catra’s body slammed her into the water.

Catra shrieked. She hated water.

“Aw, little kitty still afraid of the water? How about you go for a swim?” She ra grinned as she watched Catra clench her jaw in anger before the feline’s entire facial expression changed.

Catra’s eyes sparkled with mischief and her eyes flickered to the princess’s lips.

“Bite me,” she purred and She ra froze and felt her face heat up in embarrassment.

“Are you blushing?” Catra teased and she felt the strong girl’s grip falter at her question.

“I...What-?” was all she managed to get out before Catra kicked her off of her, winding her in the process.

She shook away the water coating her back and saw the princess gasping for breath next to her, lying on her back. As planned, a Horde skiff swooped down and had a ladder ready for her to latch onto. Catra quickly ran over to the struggling princess and knelt down. Her sensitive hearing picked up that Glimmer, Bow and the other princesses were right around the corner.

“Dream of me, okay Adora?” Catra said flirtatiously as she gently caressed her cheek before all the princesses arrived.

She ran back the the plane and latched onto the ladder as Bow and Glimmer appeared from around the corner and tried to shoot down the skiff. They took off and Catra was pleased to see that most of the Horde soldiers had retreated already. Scorpia looked at Catra from the pilot’s seat and grinned.

“So? How’d it go?”

“All according to plan,” Catra smirked and Scorpia laughed.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Scorpia teased and Catra’s posture became rigid.

“No! This is all part of the plan, Scorpia! You know that!” Catra hissed, her voice becoming a few octaves higher and the princess laughed.

“I was kidding! But good performance anyway. Just...how are you going to explain this to Hordak?”

“I’ll sort it out. Don’t worry. Now everyone needs rest. We need to keep this up for the next week for it to be effective.”

“Yes, Catra. Let’s go back to the Fright Zone.”

Catra nodded and looked out of the plane and saw all the princesses surrounding She ra.

The princess de-transformed and Adora looked at the retreating skiff. Catra swore she made eye contact with her old friend but she just smiled.

There was so much more where that came from.

*******************

That evening Catra tossed and turned in her bed, frustrated that she couldn’t sleep. Scorpia’s words had her head in shambles.

Did she enjoy being seductive and teasing towards Adora?

Yes.

Did that mean she liked Adora?

...Possibly…?

NO! I need to concentrate on the Horde and being the best possible Force Captain. I can’t like my enemy.

Catra stared at the ceiling and thought of how Adora looked when she had said those provocative words. They had been friends since they were kids and Catra knew Adora had a soft spot for flirting or any brazen compliment. She used to be reduced to a blushing mess when they were kids and Catra teased her about it constantly.

As they got older, Adora managed to control herself around the teasing but still blushed if Catra tried hard enough. Since Adora joined the rebels, their talking ceased and Adora’s immunity to Catra’s comments must’ve lowered. The feline chuckled and grinned in the darkness, her blue and yellow eyes bright with anticipation.

“Oh, Adora. Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.”

****************************************

Adora was freaking out back at Brightmoon and she couldn’t sleep. She ended up pacing her room instead.

“What...Catra? What are you doing!”

Adora wasn’t surprised with Catra’s flirty behaviour but when she joined the rebellion, all of that ceased to exist. Now, Catra was just whipping out pick up lines and challenging her in her seductive tone which did make her heart beat a little faster and-

“Stop!” Adora yelled at her thoughts as she felt her face burn with embarrassment as she flopped herself onto her bed.

“Catra must have an angle with this. What game is she playing at?” she thought out loud.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing came to her mind when she questioned it. She grabbed a pillow and screamed with frustration into it.

“It’s okay...tomorrow is a new day...you just need to trust yourself. Besides, after the attack the Horde did today, they won’t plan another attack for a few more days...sleep Adora. You can do this. You just need to train.” Adora sighed heavily and got under her covers.

Catra…whatever you’re planning, you won’t get away with it.

**************************

“The Horde’s attacking a village! We need to go now!” yelled Glimmer as she burst into Adora’s room.

“W-what? But...but we just fought them yesterday!” Adora shrieked as she bolted out of bed.

“Look, I don’t know what angle they’re going for. First they attacked the palace and now it’s a village. I don’t know the connection but all I know is that Catra is there.”

Adora’s sense were wide alert when Glimmer said her old friend’s name.

“Let’s go stop the Horde,” she said with determination and grabbed her sword.

I will not let my guard down this time.

“For the honour of Grayskull!”

**************************

“Hey Adora~,” Catra purred when she saw She ra approach her.

They were in a secluded part of a forest, away from the village. Glimmer had told her to go after Catra while the other princesses fought off the Horde and helped the villagers. She ra gritted her teeth and there was something about it that made Catra chuckle.

“What? You aren’t happy to see me?” she smirked as she took a fighting stance.

She ra threw her sword and it landed just a few centimeters away from Catra’s face, lodged into a tree.

“Okay then, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Catra hissed and she pounced, knocking She ra to the floor.

She ra immediately got up and charged for the feline. Catra jumped into the trees and hid amongst the foliage. The princess cursed. The trees leaves were thick and she couldn’t spot her Catra in them.

“So, Adora...you do realize I’m still going to call you Adora right? I mean you’ll always be Adora to me.” Catra’s voice echoed in the trees and She ra tried to find the source of it but was fruitless.

“Anyway, how was your sleep? Have sweet dreams?”

She ra retrieved her sword and clenched it to hard that her knuckles turned white.

“I hope you had sweet dreams and you know how dreams can reveal what our subconscious is thinking of. So, did you dream of me?” Catra giggled.

“Shut up!” She ra yelled into the open space.

“I wonder what you dreamed of me? The two of us together maybe? Like how it was before you left the Horde or...?”

Suddenly Catra pounced from one of the branches and hit She ra straight in the back, knocking her to her knees.

“Or did you dream of us differently...hmmm...like...” Catra walked over to She ra who was still on the ground trying to regain her breath.

She put She ra into a headlock and she felt She ra’s hands grip onto her arm to break free.

“-Doing things Shadow Weaver would’ve never wanted us doing together?” Catra whispered into her princess’s ear before kneeing She ra in her back.

She ra hissed in pain and Catra let her out of her headlock and immediately took refuge in the trees once more.

“You’re being a coward, Catra! Fight me like a Horde soldier!”

She ra snapped and she heard Catra’s giggle once more.

“You know I fight dirty, Adora. Just because you’re a princess now doesn’t mean I change too.”

Don’t let your guard down, Adora. Focus!

“I never changed! I found out that what the Horde was doing was wrong! How can you be fine with innocent people being hurt and losing their homes to the Horde?” she hissed and from the corner of her eye she saw Catra’s form leap towards her.

She turned sharply and hit the feline, causing her to crash into a thick tree. She ra walked over to Catra and grabbed her by her shirt and lifted her into the air, her sword dangerously close to her neck.

“Let go of my shirt, Adora,” Catra said slowly and She ra could feel her legs shaking.

“Enough! What are you planning with the Horde?” the princess pressed and slammed Catra into the tree, hoping she would be quiet. Catra hissed in pain but regained composure and looked directly into She ra’s clear blue eyes and gave her a wink.

“Let go of my shirt Adora, unless you plan on ripping it off of me...”

She ra’s eyes widened and she stared at Catra. Without a second of hesitation, the feline kicked her in the chest and lept to the other side of the clearing.

“You should see your face right now, Adora. You are so red,” Catra laughed and She ra clenched her fists in anger.

“Do you think this is some sort of game to you Catra? What are you playing at?” she screamed in frustration as she turned to face Catra.

“Maybe...it’s a little game called Cat and Mouse…and guess what-?” Catra ran towards her, her claws ready to inflict damage. The blonde managed to block her claws from scratching her but they were now face to face.

“-You’re the mouse,” Catra whispered before jumping back into the trees.

She ra gripped her sword and shook her head furiously.

“You think some seductive words are going to get to my head?” she hissed and sensed movement from behind her. She turned around but was too late as Catra knocked her to the floor, using all of her force to pin the giant woman to the ground.

“Well...haven’t they already?” Catra smirked as she saw the prominent blush rise on She ra’s cheeks.

Suddenly, She ra’s form flickered and she de-transformed back into Adora.

Adora stared at Catra with wide, confused eyes, her cheeks now painfully, obviously red.

“Adora? Adora!” Bow and Glimmer’s voices echoed the forest and Catra gritted her teeth in frustration.

She wasn’t finished with making Adora flustered but she had to go if she didn’t wanted to be caught.

“Bye Adora. Dream of me, ‘kay?” As she said those words she trailed a hand down the flustered girls face, down to her neck.

Catra’s blue and yellow eyes gazed into the endless depths of blue that was Adora’s, when suddenly a noise erupted from Adora’s throat and Catra froze, her eyes taking in the full picture of the girl beneath her.

“Did...did you just moan-?” Catra asked, a grin spreading across her face and her eyes twinkling in mirth.

“No! I-I did not!” Adora yelled, her voice high pitched. Glimmer and Bow’s voices were getting louder and Catra knew she had to leave.

Catra chuckled and leaned closer to Adora’s face, the saviour of Brightmoon, completely still underneath her.

“Well, Adora. If that wasn’t a sign of desire...then I don’t know what is.”

Without another word, she stood up and sprinted into the forest.

“Adora! Are you alright?” Glimmer yelled and her two friends burst into the clearing, weapons ready.

“I...I’m okay. Catra got away though.”

“Well, there will be another day when she gets caught. The Horde soldiers did do some serious damage on the village though. We need to go help them clean up and restore it first.”

Adora nodded and walked out of the clearing, only looking back once to relive how Catra had made her feel so vulnerable.

***************************

“Scorpia, you should’ve seen her face! It was priceless! A few more days of this and we’ll soon have full control of Brightmoon and Etheria!” Catra laughed and Scorpia smiled.

“So what is this flirting tactic anyway? How did you know Adora would still be affected by it?” Catra lept from her bed and onto the floor.

“I sorta guessed. I knew Adora always got flustered when I teased her when we were younger but I didn’t think it would still work!” Catra cackled and walked to the boardroom with Scorpia following behind her. “All we need to do is keep this up and Brightmoon will be in out hands.”

“Look Catra, I’m glad you’re happy but are you sure you want to go through with this? What if Adora becomes immune?” Catra’s canines glinted as she smiled.

“Oh, don’t worry, Scorpia. It’ll be fine. If anything, Adora hasn’t even faced the worst of it yet and she should be freaking out back at Brightmoon now. She won’t become immune anytime soon.”

**************************************

Back at Brightmoon, Adora was pacing her room again, mentally cursing herself.

She had moaned in the forest. Everything had happened so fast and she had moaned in pleasure to Catra’s touch and it was a disaster. She couldn’t help it. It just happened. Catra had been on top of her, saying all these damn seductive words with that tone that drove her brain crazy and her body had just responded-

Adora fell onto her bed and screamed into the blankets.

“Why? What is wrong with me? I shouldn’t be feeling things like this for Catra! She’s my enemy!”

Yeah, an enemy you want to do all sorts of sinful things too, her brain said.

 “Shut up!” Adora yelled to her brain and she groaned in defeat. 

She wracked her head trying to figure out what the hell Catra was trying to prove.

“Does she think I like her more than a friend?” she wondered out loud but then covered her head with her pillow.

“That’s not the problem! You freeze up when fighting her and Catra can not have that power over you!” Adora said to herself.

"She...she's with the Horde. This isn't some casual flirting or any sign of attraction. It's...war strategy," Adora said softly, her heart sore at the words.

“Let go of my shirt Adora, unless you plan on ripping it off of me...”

“Or did you dream of us differently...hmmm...like...doing things Shadow Weaver never wanted us doing together?”

Adora could feel the heat rising to her face and could almost feel how Catra’s body had pinned her to the ground.

No, Catra is using your emotions against you. Fight it.

She began pacing again, her brain working ten times faster. She walked over to her window and looked out, envisioning the Fright Zone among the forest.

“I’ll be ready next time Catra, you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into,” Adora hissed and went to bed.

[silverfootstepswrites]

title Tremor summary It might be better not to hear pairing itasaku, tobisaku, hot messes

Part i | Part ii | Part iii | Part iv | Part v | Part vi | Part vii | Part viii | Part ix | Part x | Part xi | Part xii | Part xiii | Part xiv | Part xv | Part xvi | Part xvii | Part xviii | Part xix | Part xx | Part xxi | Part xxii | Part xxiii | Part xxiv (here) | Part xxv | Part xxvi | Part xxvii | Part xxviii | Part xxix | Part xxx | Part xxxi | Part xxxii | Part xxxiii | Part xxxiv | Part xxxv | Part xxxvi | Part xxxvii| Part xxxviii | Part xxxix | Part XL (it ends here)

“You’ve been a loyal foot soldier of the 24K for years now. It’s time for your initiation, Jing-Mei.”

Hashirama’s words rang in her ears. Sakura refilled her flask, eyes unfocused. She swore as the drink overflowed, dribbling down her hand. She sucked the alcohol off her fingertips. Her lipstick smearing onto her thumb. 

“What’re you going to do, Jing-Mei?” asked Tenten. Her black eyes fixed on her. Flipping a blade back and forth between her hands. 

“What do you mean? It’s done,” Sakura said, glancing at her over her shoulder. She screwed the cap back on the bottle. And then she turned, taking a generous swig. 

Tenten flicked her braid over her shoulder. She flipped her knife one last time before she shoved it back in the holster on her thigh. 

“You could say no. Aren’t you his favorite or something?” 

“Even a favorite dog will be put down if it bites its master, Tenten,” Sakura warned. Tenten raised her eyebrows.

“Alright, Confucius. Whatever you say,” she replied, getting to her feet. “Honestly, I don’t give a shit about those geezers. I’ve got your back. Not theirs.” She mimed shooting guns with both hands. 

Sakura cracked a smile. She handed the flask over. Tenten guzzled the cheap whiskey down. Making a face as she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

“Does that mean I have to call you ‘Boss’ from now on?” asked Tenten, grinning. It was Sakura’s tun to grimace. She shoved Tenten in the shoulder as she walked past.

“Shut up. Let’s go eat lunch,” Sakura responded.

“If you’re paying, Boss.”

Orochimaru had left her everything. All of his properties, his assets. Down to the clothes in his wardrobe. 

Even the attorney she had hired let out a low whistle as he read over the list. 

“Sis, if you weren’t rich before, you sure as hell are now,” he remarked, adjusting his glasses. 

Sakura turned the chair around the straddled it. Crossing her arms across the top rail.

“Cut the crap, Jiraiya,” Sakura cut into his musings. He eyed her over his glasses.

“You know, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar,” he pointed out to her.

“Good thing you’re not a fly then,” she retorted. He sighed, shaking his head. 

“I’d have to look some stuff up, but it looks like you’ll have to pay an estate tax on this. I want to double-check the numbers,” he said half to himself. And then he looked up. “But this guy is from Hong Kong. Why was his will written in English?”

Sakura clicked her tongue at him. 

“Orochimaru always said that he didn’t trust Chinese. He said people would fight wars over how to read one damn character. Or maybe he was trying to show off how good his English was. He was always so proud of that,” Sakura recalled. 

“How was his English?” queried Jiraiya, packing up his suitcase.

Sakura smiled.

“Awful.”

With Jiraiya’s help, she ended up selling most of what Orochimaru had left her. She really had no use for his penthouse near City Hall. And she had no use for his seven sports cars. She kept the limo, though. It wasn’t practical for everyday use, but it was a nice way to make an entrance at certain events. 

It didn’t rain on the day of Orochimaru’s funeral. Sakura thought it should have.

Orochimaru had quite literally stabbed the previous chairman in the back. None of the other Red Poles attended the funeral. After all, who would pay respects to a traitor? And that suited Sakura just fine. 

She sent word out to the members of just the Jade gang. She ordered the flowers and the casket. And she was the one who spoke. There was no priest, no fancy ceremony. Orochimaru had always hated religion. He probably would have frowned at even the incense lit in front of his portrait.

“I didn’t think he mattered that much to you,” murmured Tenten as tears escaped from Sakura’s eyes. Sakura hurried to wipe them away. Setting her mouth into a hard line.

“Neither did I,” whispered Sakura in return.

Late that night, Sakura stood on the balcony of one of Orochimaru’s apartments. The inside was garishly decorated in blacks and reds. The man had certainly been called many things, but bland was not one of them.

“Why do you think I asked Hashirama to give me you, Jing-Mei?” he had asked her one night, standing on this very balcony. His silky hair tucked behind his ear. A glass of red wine held in his palm. 

“To piss him off?” Sakura remembered answering. 

And Orochimaru laughed, head falling back. The tattoo of a snake curling around his throat like a living thing. 

“Partly,” he conceded. And then his expression sobered. Golden eyes glittering as he tilted his head to one side. Like he was considering something about her face. 

“I’d heard rumors of a girl. Some broad Hashirama found on the streets and took on as a pet project,” Orochimaru explained. Sakura didn’t bristle. She had heard much worse things before. 

“And I wanted to see what was so good about that girl. What would have caught Hashirama’s interest?” he went on. 

“And?” prompted Sakura.

A smile lit up Orochimaru’s face. He pointed at her. Reached out to tap directly between her eyes.

“That expression. The look of a woman who was prepared to tear someone’s throat out with her own teeth. The moment I saw that, I knew that I wanted to groom you,” he said before he took a sip of his too-sweet wine. 

“Groom me? To do what?” she recalled spitting back. Still so filled with anger. The lingering ache of being abandoned by Hashirama. Being pawned off like an old piece of furniture. But Orochimaru lifted her chin, beaming. 

“I want to sharpen those fangs, my dear. I want to open up the lion’s cage at the zoo and see what havoc you’ll wreak.”

Even as she remembered this all, Sakura still didn’t understand. 

She leaned against the railing, just as Orochimaru once had. It was cold this high up. As pretty as the view was, she shivered. Looking around, she found one of his sweaters draped over the back of a chair. She pulled her arms through the sleeves. The fragrance of Orochimaru’s cologne still clung to the wool. And when she patted the pockets, she felt a lump. She pulled out a box of cigarettes, and a silver lighter with a dragon engraved into the side. 

She lit one of the cigarettes, holding it between two of her fingers. She watched the smoke lift from the tip before it was whisked away by the wind. And as the fragrance filled the air, it almost felt like Orochimaru was standing right beside her. Swirling his wine. Smiling so brilliantly in that sad, sad way. 

“When I die, I want it to be a spectacle. I want to be remembered,” he had told her once. 

Raising the cigarette to her lips, hands shaking, she gulped down an ashy breath. Coughed as the smoke filled her lungs and burned. She exhaled between her teeth, eyes filling with tears.

“Goodbye, you weirdo,” she whispered, letting the tears drip down her face as she coughed her way through that first cigarette.

All those years later, Sakura still remembered Orochimaru. A soft-spoken man who loved art and culture as much as he loved flaying the skin off his enemies. And though he hadn’t died a spectacle, she supposed that he must be half-happy. Because she still recalled the way he pointed with his cigarette as he spoke. How he picked the scallions out of his food when he ate.

And for some reason, Sakura remembered Orochimaru as she stepped through the door to the “real estate office”. She left Tenten outside to stand guard. The men Tenten had knocked out wouldn’t be getting up any time soon anyway. And there was also a sniper across the street. He would hear if anything went wrong through the mic taped to the inside of her shirt.

Sakura crept through the storage room, careful not to kick any boxes. And when she emerged in the narrow hallway, she could see a door ajar at the far end. Fluorescent light spilling out through that crack. She tread carefully. Testing each stretch of the floor before she put her weight on it fully. But when she reached the room and peered in through the crack, she realized that all her caution was for nothing. Because Madara sat with his back to the door, giant headphones covering his ears. He bobbed his head along to the music, waving his fingers in the air like a conductor’s baton. She reached into her pocket as she tiptoed into the room.

A shout tried to escape from Madara when something constricted around his windpipe. Instead, all that came out was a grunt. He clawed at his throat. Fingernails catching on the nylon stockings. He tilted his head back to see Sakura smiling down at him, her teeth gleaming. 

“I know what you’re thinking. ‘How did she find me here?’” she said. Clicking her tongue as Madara struggled to break free. She tightened her grip on the stockings, pulling them even tighter. His face began to turn purple.

“The better question would be, ‘Why did I ever think to piss off Haruno Sakura?’“ Sakura went on. Madara gurgled. Fingernails drawing blood as he continued to scrape. As his body started to go limp, she kept the pressure on his windpipe. Listening to the pathetic wheezes as his oxygen-deprived brain began to give up. And just as his eyes began to roll back, Sakura released him. Her fingertips tingled as she blood rushed back into them. The stockings left angry red marks on her hands. 

Madara gulped down greedy breaths, coughing and retching. Tears and saliva mixing as they dripped off his chin.

“But we’ll get to that later. First, you’re going to tell me everything about your deals with Kabuto,” Sakura said. And Madara slowly lifted his head, bloodshot eyes glowering at her as he choked down precious breaths. Sakura smiled.

“And if you lie, I won’t bother with this again,” Sakura added, gesturing to the stockings. She reached into her pocket to pull out her golden revolver. “I’ll just fucking empty all these bullets into your body.”

As he hacked, Madara met her eyes. A smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“That was actually a little hot,” he wheezed.

“Ugh,” Sakura said. She unloaded a bullet into his shoulder. Blew the smoke from the end of the gun. And she watched him howl with pain, blood dribbling out between his fingers. 

“Next one goes in your skull. Talk.”

Tobirama started when the back door banged open downstairs. He craned his neck back to check the security monitors on the wall. And as he saw her walking up the stairs, his shoulders relaxed. He switched his cigarette to the other side of his mouth. Her heels tapped against the scuffed floor. She held up a bottle of wine and two glasses. 

“I don’t like wine, Jing-Mei,” he reminded her for the millionth time.

“I don’t care,” she answered for the millionth time.

He took the bottle from her. Pulling a knife from his pocket, he wedged the cork out with the tip of the blade. He poured the glasses. Set the bottle on the floor. 

Sakura took one. And even though there were other chairs free, she deposited herself in his lap. Calves draped over the armrest. 

“When did you get back to Hong Kong?” he asked, clinking his glass against hers.

Sakura sipped her wine. And then she held the glass to her chest as she smiled at him.

“A few hours ago,” she answered. Her eyes drifting down. She touched his chest, lightly. Felt no box in the pocket. So she plucked the cigarette from his mouth and placed it between her lips.

“You’re welcome,” he remarked.

Sakura winked. Tobirama sighed. He leaned his head back, letting it loll against the old sofa. She blew smoke into his face. He blinked a few times.

“So what’s the occasion?” he queried. He lifted his head in time to catch Sakura suddenly avoiding his gaze. Tobirama’s eyes narrowed.

“What?” he demanded.

“You remember that night your brother became the Dragon Head?” Sakura asked. She pulled the cigarette out of her mouth. Inspected the ring of lipstick she had left around it. 

He scowled.

“That was years ago? What about it?”

She glanced at his expression. Sighing, she gave his cheek a light push.

“It’s nothing,” she said.

Part i | Part ii | Part iii | Part iv | Part v | Part vi | Part vii | Part viii | Part ix | Part x | Part xi | Part xii | Part xiii | Part xiv | Part xv | Part xvi | Part xvii | Part xviii | Part xix | Part xx | Part xxi | Part xxii | Part xxiii | Part xxiv (here) | Part xxv | Part xxvi | Part xxvii | Part xxviii | Part xxix | Part xxx | Part xxxi | Part xxxii | Part xxxiii | Part xxxiv | Part xxxv | Part xxxvi | Part xxxvii| Part xxxviii | Part xxxix | Part XL (it ends here)