#please read the shifter's voice as double trouble's from she ra :) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

circlingravens · 2 years

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Taglist: @silverdarlin, @quirkykayleetam

Started adding a taglist! Please message me if you'd like to be added!

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They were outnumbered two to one, at best. It wasn’t that the force of Shifters was particularly large-- simply that there were so few of the elves. Despite Kien’s experience with battle and bloodshed, he couldn’t help the chokehold of panic that settled over him. Afterall-- he was injured, and had never seen any of the others fight. Despite the few blows he’d exchanged with the General during their brief sparring exchange, he had no idea how well-versed they were. Even if they could all fight well (Mora’s casual grace suggested she could handle herself, and all of them were definitely practiced in their reaction to the flock of birds), they likely had a fighting pattern with each other, and Kien’s presence would simply get in the way.

Even still, he drew his sword, jaw clenching. He knew how to fight, and he could work through the pain. Even if he’d passed out before, he refused to acknowledge that possibility now. There was no other choice. It was fight, or die, and his own spite towards this entire situation refused to let him die.

It was the first of the arrows that perhaps saved him from exerting himself to the point of sweet, blissful unconsciousness. For now. As the whistling sound filled the air (a notch had been cut into the arrowhead to cause a fiercer hum), instinct deep within snapped.

A single, hissed word slipped from the Prince’s lips, and those odd, electric eyes filmed over with gold.

The arrow fell from the air, clattering onto the cold, hard ground below, as though it’d met a solid wall. In the same moment, blood began to drop from the elf’s nose.

The other elves in the small group twisted to eye Kien, for a moment, before Valen whispered, “Blood magic.” For a second, both groups were still, before the General muttered, “Told you.” Mora swore softly, and, with that, she leapt, fire flaring bright into both hands.

Though her movement had been met by the entire gathered forces erupting into fighting, Kien’s gaze remained with her, for a moment. Yes, she certainly knew how to fight-- both fistfuls of fire had been tossed towards intended targets, and she now wielded duel knives, slipping close, slipping a knife between the ribs, and away again before her opponent could react.

His attention was forcibly snatched away by a deep chuckle from behind him. He spun, sword coming up into an easy guard, eyes already touched once more by the color that warned for his magic.

The shifter who’d laughed simply grinned at the Prince, all pointed teeth and overly sharp fangs.

“Well, well,” they purred, an ear twitching as amusement crept across their face. “I didn’t expect to find royalty out here, and you, no less-” their words were cut off by a snarl as Kien threw himself forward, disregarding all intelligent thought of avoiding further injury or fighting from a distance with magic. No-- he was as good as dead either way, because if the other elves heard, the King would kill him just the same.

So it was fear that drove the gentle Prince, and the first of his blows thrust out with the full power and intention to kill. Normally, his first few strikes would be warnings-- a display of the power he could wield, but intended to disable, not end. But no, he couldn’t afford to let this shifter talk, so he attacked without mercy.

His blade met only air, and a flurry of feathers caught his attention from his peripheral vision.

“Too slow,” the shifter teased, a chiding smile on their face. “Honestly, Prince, I expected better from you! Aren’t you the golden child? The chosen one?” Their voice was singsong, eyes alight with a cold mirth.

Even fearful, angry, Kien was no fool. But still, he struck again. The same feathery flurry of action, but Kien’s blade had already twisted to meet it, and cold steel slashed across a physical form. Again-- he was no fool, he wouldn’t have tried the same thing twice.

A squawk of surprise, and pain, but the shifter had taken their true form again, and was still grinning, despite the bloody slash across their upper arm. “Well, well, it seems His Highness-” they paused, blinking down at their opponent.

Their kneeling opponent. Kien had collapsed, the twisting motion of his second blow having been too much. One would’ve thought he’d have figured it out by now, but no. He’d fallen forward, on to both knees, both hands on the ground, one still enclosed around the hilt of his sword.

“Disappointing,” the shifter drawled after the moment of surprise had passed. Soft steps thudded on the ground as they advanced, and long, cold fingers curled under his chin, nudging Kien’s head forcibly upwards. He’d not yet fallen unconscious, but it was clear the Prince’s mind was far off, somewhere to escape from that pain, from the glazed look in his eyes.

Metal flashed at the shifter’s side as they drew a dagger from some hidden sheath, clicking their tongue.

“Well, that was easier than I expected. Really, I’m quite sad,” they pouted, staring down at the fallen prince. “Very well. Bye-bye-”

They froze, mouth agape, and their head slowly lowered, the hand under Kien’s chin coming up to their stomach, where a long spearhead protruded. With a silent ‘o’, they stumbled a pace to the side, dagger falling forgotten to lay besides Kien’s sword.

“Don’t,” Leon snarled, his normally gentle face contorted in anger. “Your group’s taken enough from us.”

A wet cough was the only answer he received from the shifter, whose hands both pressed below the weapon still skewering them. Their lips pursed together, as if to whistle, but only a wet gurgle could be heard. Leon paled, jaw tensing, but turned away, fists curling as he stood in front of Kien’s collapsed form. His weapon was gone, but he was ready to fight bare-handed to defend the young elf if needed. As the shifter slowly sank to the ground, the sounds of the surrounding clash dulled. The other shifters had backed away from their fights, despite having more or less surrounded the elves. As one, they shifted, mostly back into the same flock they’d come as, but one taking on the shape of a small wyvern. With a hoarse croak that belonged more to a crow than the fierce creature whose appearance they’d borrowed, they took to the air, curling up, then landing near to form of the shifter who Leon had impaled.

The elves made no move to interfere, given it seemed the enemy was, miraculously, leaving. Even as the wyvern scooped up the injured shifter with its back talons, spear and all, and took off, they did not stop it.

A rough, disbelieving laugh was the first sound that broke the new silence. From Valen, of course, who trod over to Leon, patting him heavily on the shoulder. “Congrats, healer, you just saved every single one of us from certain death.” Various murmurs of ascent came from the others, who slowly lowered their weapons, all covered in blood-- both their own, and their enemies. Left on the ground were four utterly still bodies. And Kien, who they all noticed again at once. By now, he’d slipped from wakefulness. Back to unconsciousness, which seemed to be his most predominant state these days. Leon sank to his knees besides the Price, reaching out with gentle fingers to feel for a pulse.

“Sleeping beauty, much?” The joke fell flat, colored by concern. “Is… he alive?” When Leon affirmed he was, Valen nodded sagely, as if he’d known. “Good. I need him to bet on. Even if he’s not a thief.” He said no more, though, simply folding his arms.

Silence reigned once more, for a long minute, before Leon murmured, “So, who wants to help me carry him to the medical tent?” And with that, a quiet, “Again,” was added from everyone simultaneously, and shoulders relaxed all around. This fight was over, and despite the injuries sustained, none of those bodies were elven. Even their new soldier had survived.

#kien #my writing #whump #impaled #stabbed #cw war #magic #nosebleed #the ganggg #the general #valen #mora #leon #reneth #please read the shifter's voice as double trouble's from she ra :)

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ritsunaru · 4 years

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palettes and princesses

hi! here’s my entry for day 5 of @doubletroubleweek. it’s a bit unique, since it’s not a one shot, but a part 2 to my fic “feeling blue” on archive of our own. before you read this, please check out the first chapter on there! my username is estrellaaa. check the reblogs for a link! no trigger warnings for this fic but major spoilers for everything after season 2! if you haven’t watched season 4 i don’t know why you’d be reading double trouble fanfiction, but you never know ;) i hope you enjoy! 🦚

Double Trouble took their assignments very seriously. Well, as seriously as they could manage. The only thing that really mattered in the end was that the money ended up in their palm by the end of the job, and their gig as Prince Peekablue certainly paid the bills. In addition to imitating the handsome heir to the throne of Pavonia, they had crafted several all identities based on random Etherians to populate the stage. The poor stage manager never seemed to notice that only one of the performers was in the same room as him at any given time, and they received an individual paycheck as each person. Considering how little a non-Peekablue performer was paid, it wasn’t a lot, but they made enough.

Unfortunately, they had been caught by the princesses and effectively held captive until the war was over. Scorpia of course had to sting them (despite all they had been through with the Horde and their mutual abandonment of Catra), and for some reason they, of all Etherians, had to react abnormally to it. They wanted to reconcile with her, but it was really their fault that she had been chipped in the first place. However, it wasn’t all that bad back in the reimagined outpost, and they were protected from the threat of being chipped (although the princesses argued that it was because they would be too dangerous in the hands of Prime)—but they were a wanderer, and rejoiced when the war had ended if not only because they would be freed.

With the royalty on Bright Moon, however, things were never so simple. In order to repay the time and people lost due to their mimicry at the Enchanted Grotto, Queen Sparkles had ordered them to track down the real Peekablue and bring him back to her castle. There was no time frame, but they would be required to check in nightly with the “Best Friends Squad,” consisting of the aforementioned Sparkles, Blondie, and Bow. Kitten had been invited, considering her and Blondie had finally become a thing, but she declined for obvious reasons. Thankfully, they had some basis for the Prince’s whereabouts. Locals reported seeing a hooded figure within Pavonia’s borders (it was technically a territory of Plumeria at the time, but Double Trouble didn’t care to get into the intricacies of land division). Sparkles seemed convinced that it was who they were looking for, and even if they disagreed, they were at her mercy.

The first week of their stay in Pavonia consisted almost entirely of observation, perfecting disguises of several locals to blend in while they got into the more active portion of the quest. Double Trouble managed to catch a glimpse of a cloaked citizen running into some secluded doorway but ultimately decided to wait a few days before breaking into someone’s living space unattended. They likely only had the one shot at identifying Peekablue; otherwise, they could be arrested for breaking and entering. Technically, Sparkles’ very mission encouraged crime, but she wouldn’t like having to bail them out.

A few more days of observation and Double Trouble had concluded that no normal Pavonian citizen wore a cloak around during their daily tasks. This left them with only one suspect, and they had to make their move when the door was still unlocked. Peekablue didn’t usually go out, except for when he purchased food from time to time, leaving few opportunities to strike. The shifter remained vigilant, however, functioning on small amounts of sleep and finally spotting the prince as he returned from a late night haul.

He looked almost panicked, checking the surrounding area to see if anyone was watching before unlocking the door. Clearly, he was still paranoid. Did he even know that the war was over? The chances were slim, but that wasn’t important right now. They shifted back into their true form, nearly breaking their ankle upon landing. Cobblestone paths really did not work with three-inch heels, but fashion is fashion. The door was ever so slightly ajar, and Double Trouble opened it as quietly as they could muster, which elicited an atrocious creak.

The figure turned as soon as the door made a sound, eyes widening as he backed against the nearest wall. Definitely Peekablue.

“Please don’t kill me, I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt me!” the prince shouted, squinting and rummaging around on his bed for something. His voice grew softer, more desperate. “Please.”

The shapeshifter looked around, taking in the sight before them. The missing Prince Peekablue, long blue locks tied into a messy ponytail and wearing an oversized tunic. Upon closer inspection, he was trying to grab a pair of glasses. His living space wasn’t terribly messy, but there was barely anything there, just the essentials. He certainly had deteriorated since their last meeting.

Before doing anything, Double Trouble picked up the glasses and clunkily positioned them on the seer’s face. Once he recognized who they were, he certainly would stop resisting. Perhaps he would even greet them with a smile. They were still waiting on that next Princess Prom, which had been graciously awarded to Frosta as retribution for what had happened with the Horde at her first ball. Scorpia had been promised the one after that, but that was long in the future, and they didn’t like planning ahead.

Much to the shifter’s shock, the prince only struggled further, shoving them away and blushing a deep violet. “Get your hands off of me!” That certainly wasn’t the reaction they were hoping for, but they could work with it. That was one of the many things they prided themself on—masking their true emotions in favor of a very convincing facade—so they plastered a smirk on their face and set to molding this interaction, an artist in their own right.

“Darling, really, you live like this? I would’ve expected better from the prince of Pavonia—but then again, you aren’t really the prince of anything anymore, are you?” Double Trouble made themself comfortable on the edge of his bed, watching as he finally caught up with the situation. It was a little amusing, seeing him so disoriented, but it wasn’t like he would normally be any more sociable. The old man glasses suited him, though.

“Wait, you?” Peekablue finally made out the intruder, and it was definitely not who he was expecting. Why would Double Trouble want to see him again? All he did was waste their time at Princess Prom years ago. Not to mention the rampant identity theft he had witnessed on their part. “How did you even find me here? Show me your neck.”

The reptile burst into a theatrical laugh, throwing their head back. “Oh, haven’t you heard? Big Brother took a tumble. Whole empire’s gone. I heard She-Ra used all that new magic to plant some trees around the ships. Oh, and Blondie finally got together with Kitten. Did you see them at Princess Prom? I have no idea how they couldn’t realize earlier.”

Peekablue stood still for what felt like hours. The war was over, Horde Prime had been defeated, and he was still here? As for “Blondie” and “Kitten,” those names had no significance to him. He figured that was a question for a later date. There were more pressing matters to attend to. “Why are you here? To kidnap me for ransom?”

That same laugh chimed through the room, and the prince felt his heart melt. “Oh, not exactly. I’m on assignment from Bright Moon. Repayment for my war crimes. Sparkles wanted me to find where you were hiding and bring you back to Bright Moon. I’m getting paid, so I suppose you could call this kidnapping for ransom. No need to worry, darling, I treat my captives well. But if we’re going to be bringing you to an audience before the Queen, we have got to deal with all of this.” Double Trouble gestured vaguely at the man before them.

“You’re supposed to be kidnapping me.” The gravity of the situation finally sunk in, and Peekablue’s heart rate spiked almost instantly. “Just get it over with. Please.”

Double Trouble raised an eyebrow. “Me-ow. I didn’t think you would’ve developed a death wish in solitary.” The prince scrunched his face defiantly, but the shifter didn’t budge. “Let me make this clear. If you want to have an audience with Sparkles, you have to let me make you look presentable. To be considered a prince, you have to look like one, and I have to say, solitary chic really isn’t working for you.”

“What are you going to do if I say no?”

“Darling, no isn’t an option. Now, where do you keep all of your things? We have a lot of work to do.”

Peekablue didn’t like the idea of Double Trouble wielding a pair of scissors near his neck and face, but they were insistent. What did he have left to lose? They were the only one who had bothered to check in on him, and they hadn’t threatened him at all. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You can’t, darling. That’s the fun part.” The shifter worked gently, far more gently than the prince would’ve imagined. They seemed to know what they were doing. Perhaps that was something they had learned from their shapeshifting—the delicate intricacies of the body, the exact way the vocal cords of a person develop their voice, the way that the composition of muscle contributed to strengths and weaknesses in combat. Any other person and he would’ve been squirming in his seat, but Double Trouble had an almost soothing presence. He didn’t think they would try to hurt him.

Peekablue felt a significant amount of weight drop off of the back of his head and flinched the slightest bit. He had asked Double Trouble to go for the haircut he had at Princess Prom, but the actual experience was something different, and it was far more significant than they would probably ever know. He was finally going to see other people. He was going to be a prince again. He could see Perfuma and ask Scorpia what had happened before the Fright Zone had fallen. If the Horde was gone, would that mean that she was restored the control of her kingdom? By turning back to Princess Prom, could he repair the damage he had done?

“Hey, uh—thank you. For this. You really didn’t have to.” The seer turned back to look Double Trouble in the eyes. “I know I’m the prince everyone’s given up on, but...I want to make things right with everyone. Hiding was wrong.”

The shapeshifter flinched, pupils widening and refusing to meet his gaze. For as much as they shopped around when it came to finding a partner, the idea of genuine intimacy was one they were wildly out of touch with. It was commitment, and when they chose their profession, it was the first thing they had let go of. “Yeah, well, you enjoy that. I’ll probably head back to the Waste once I deliver you to Sparkles anyway. There’s nothing left for me in Bright Moon.”

Something shifted on Peekablue’s face, but Double Trouble couldn’t pinpoint it. He shook his head, turning back and standing up. “I can do my own makeup.”

The shapeshifter watched as he worked, erasing the dark circles under his eyes and practically becoming someone else entirely. “Believe me, darling, I know.” They hadn’t really bothered learning how to do makeup, considering their abilities, but he was likely just as good at replicating a face as they were. He had gone from an exhausted disaster who hadn’t seen people in years to someone who could pass for royalty, all with just a few creams and powders. Blue finished with that same shade of lavender lipstick and a pair of contact lenses and stood, shoulders rising as he inhaled sharply.

Wordlessly, he walked to the closet, pulling out the infamous outfit and making his way to a separate room. This was it. Put on a leotard and a jacket and it would be like nothing had happened.

He wished it was that easy. He had a lot to fix. He would probably never be the same person he was before all of this. Peekablue eyed the binder staring back at him from the other side of the room, weighing his options. On the one hand, Double Trouble had said that he needed to look like a prince for his audience with Princess Glimmer (he assumed that was the identity of “Sparkles”). On the other hand, he hadn’t worn his binder in years, and he didn’t really feel uncomfortable without it. What were the rules for this kind of thing? Turning away from the binder, he dressed in the outfit, finishing with his shoes and holding the jacket in his hand as if it would disappear the moment he let go. What was he waiting for?

Prince Peekablue pulled his arms through the sleeves, smoothing out any wrinkles. That was who he was again. A prince. He stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him, turning to Double Trouble.

A blush rose up and covered Double Trouble’s face, and they didn’t even attempt to hide it. For the first time in years, the shapeshifter was rendered speechless. It was like nothing had changed, and they were just going to continue their conversation. The Horde wouldn’t have shown up, and they could have maybe shared a dance.

Neither of them spoke on the walk through the shadows of Plumeria and back to Bright Moon. By some miracle, Blue’s jacket wasn’t torn to shreds by briars, and after a trek through the foliage, they stood on a ledge looking out on Bright Moon Palace. The prince instinctively grabbed for Double Trouble’s hand, and despite their initial reaction, they didn’t let go. The two walked across the bridge, grip tight and steps succinct, arriving at the doors after what had felt like an eternity. Double Trouble confirmed their identities and led him through a labyrinth of hallways, stopping only before what Peekablue knew was the throne room.

Double Trouble pulled him close, whispering, “You still remember how to address royalty?” The prince had to stop himself from laughing. He doubted that they would even consider using formalities, regardless of the stature of the person they were speaking with.

Prince Peekablue rounded the corner, dipping into a low bow and holding for three seconds before raising his head to gaze upon the throne.

“Your Highness–” he rasped, managing to maintain his composure despite the difficulty breathing he was experiencing. “Queen... Glimmer. My condolences.”

“Thank you, Prince Peekablue. Thank you, Double Trouble. You’re dismissed now.” Without any sort of formalities, the shapeshifter complied, sauntering off and leaving him alone to face the younger woman. “Prince Peekablue. How do you intend to answer for your inaction during the war against the Horde?”

“By putting all I… all I have into my kingdom. I’d like to… strengthen our trade agreements with Salineas and Bright Moon, and I’d like to assist Plumeria in whatever way Princess Perfuma requires. I’d also like to offer my services to other kingdoms, to protect against any unprecedented threats. That is, with your consent, your majesty.” The prince took another deep breath. Glimmer was younger than him, but she also had more power and was far more intimidating. “I think I could be of help to the Princess Alliance… if you’d let me join. Hiding was cowardly, but I choose to do everything I can to help Etheria from this moment on.”

Glimmer’s stern gaze broke, and a smile took the place of her frown. She stood from her seat, stepping down the miniature platforms and approaching him. She stuck out a hand, and he accepted it, shaking gently. “Thanks, Peekablue. We really need you.”

#dtweek2020 #she ra #spop #she ra and the princesses of power #double trouble #peekablue #prince peekablue #glimmer #she ra double trouble #she ra peekablue #she ra glimmer #found my exhorbitantly tagged post in the peekablue tag earlier so we're back to excessive tags baybee!!

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