Please consider, a concept:
Initially, when Hordak and Entrapta lay together, it is always Entrapta doing the holding. Hugging, cradling, cuddling: in all positions, she is the one wrapping her hair and limbs around his body and pulling him close.Ā
One reason behind this is that she is the more forward of the two, making her more likely to initiate and direct such intimate contact. Another is that, practically speaking, Hordak simply enjoys being held: he is cold-sensitive and often suffers various aches and pains owing to his defect; being held in Entraptaās arms and swaddled in her hair brings physical relief to both of these problems, not to mention the emotional benefit provided.Ā
There is another reason, however, that is far less pleasant, one that causes Hordak to falter whenever he has even the vaguest impulse to offer Entrapta similar physical comfort.
Each time, he reflects on how lovely it feels to be cradled by her: his head laying against the soft warmth of her chest, her arms strong-yet-gentle around his shoulders, her hair a soothing blanket over his body, and he despairs because⦠well, how can he hope to offer anything of the sort?
His chest is wasted and bony, ribs painfully prominent under skin that is either thin and fragile or grotesquely rough with scars. His arms, stripped bare of armor, are as wasted as his chest, and theyāre all sharp angles and jutting elbows with little to recommend them in terms of strength or gentleness. And, of course, he has no voluminous locks of silky hair, or any sort of equivalent, that he can use to keep her as safe and warm as she keeps him.Ā
Hordak is, as far as he is concerned, the vastly inferior choice, and so he suppresses any sort of urge to hold her, very much convinced that, try as he might, he would only reveal himself as being a shamefully inadequate and uncomfortable partner. Which is, of course, not at all what Entrapta deserves. And disappointing her is absolutely not something he wishes to experience.
Thus, this remains the state of things for quite some time until, one evening, Entrapta settles herself not beside him as usual but, to his mild shock, essentially on top of him. She curls up against his chest, nestling herself in the space between his body and his left arm. She answers his surprised grunt with a bleary yawn, lays her head on his sternum, and mumbles⦠something.
He remains still. Stunned. Uncertain.Ā
She mumbles again, this time sleepily wrapping a lock of hair around his wrist and guiding his arm to drape over her, his hand to rest on her head. Almost immediately, Hordak finds himself absentmindedly, instinctively, scratching at her scalp with his claws.Ā
The motion is gentle, rhythmic, and he glances down to see that Entrapta has stilled, a smile softening her face as she sighs in⦠contentment? Even though heās cradling her with next to no muscle? Even when a patch of rough scarring brushes against her cheek?
He swallows, confused, but⦠encouraged? Is this what encouragement feels like? His ears twitch slightly at the thought.
He maintains his gentle grooming of her scalp, claws easily threading their way through her thick hair.
She sighs again, pressing closer against his chest, nestling right up against what he is certain must be uncomfortably prominent ribs, and⦠nothing. No grimace. No huff of displeasure. No noting of how unpleasant it is to lay, cheek-to-chest, against him. No-
āMm⦠can hear your heartā¦ā
She presses even closer. Her eyes are half-lidded, but sheās still smiling.
He finds himself smiling, too, though a part of him wonders if she can discern the nervous thud in what sheās hearing. He nods a little, his one hand still buried in her hair. His other has somehow found its way under her chin, curled comfortably against the warm curve of her neck. Itās held there by her own hands like the worldās strangest plush toy. One of her fingers strokes his longest talon.
His voice is low and rumbling, yet strangely steady as he answers.
āYou are hearing the cybernetics that stabilize it.ā
āSāfascinating⦠have to tell meĀ ābout itā¦ā
He begins to tell her that he will, tomorrow, but sheās already asleep, breath an even warmth against his skin. Her hands are still holding onto his one. His other has stopped its scratching and stroking, now seeking to pull the blanket up around the both of them before settling to cradle her curled up form.
And though he wants to savor this, wants to revel in the impossible sight and sound and sensation of Entrapta so willingly, so happily resting in his embrace, he cannot, for after a only few peaceful moments, he is asleep, too.