Quicksand

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
F/F
G
Quicksand
Summary
What if Catra decided to stay with Scorpia in the Crimson Waste? Starting in S3E3: Once Upon a Time in the Crimson Waste, this fic is my exploration of how it would go if Catra hadn't found out that Adora was in the Waste and thus decided to stay.
Note
Fair warning, I haven’t written fanfiction in a very long time but thanks Kate for all the help editing and making sure I stay in the correct tense haha. You’ll notice that most of this chapter is directly transcribed from s3e3: Once Upon a Time in the Crimson Waste (wow that took forever to do), but I changed a few details to make the rest of my story make sense! I hope you enjoy reading - please leave comments if you feel so inclined! I’d love to hear your thoughts :)
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"Sandcats"

Over the next few weeks, repairs to the bunker and skiffs were finished. Their first pillaging run was a huge success, largely because of Catra and Scorpia’s planning and Horde training. Their gang had grown in size, new recruits walking in almost daily. Catra wasn’t sure when people started calling them a name, but apparently “Sandcats” stuck. She’d heard rumors of another big gang in the waste led by ….Hunter? Hotter? Haughty? Hunty? Whatever. Main thing was, their leader disappeared, and its members were now looking for protection from the fiercest-- and now largest-- gang around. 

 

There remained some tension between the new members and Lashor’s old gang; occasional fights continued to break out. As part of gang initiation, each recruit is forced to fight in a twisted hazing ritual dreamt up largely for her personal entertainment. Catra would select one of her existing members of a similar size, and make them duke it out until someone was pinned or otherwise defeated. Despite the cruel delight she personally found in this rite of passage, it seemed to be creating grudges and increasing the already high tension between groups of members. Fed up with the stupidity, Catra finally decides to do something about it. 

 

She walks into the mess hall, and watches as two tables argue until someone throws a punch. She calmly walks in and slams her hand down on a table so hard it flips over. All eyes turn to her. She circles the two groups slowly, dragging her nails along table after table before turning to face them. She growls, “Outside, now.” And everyone scrambles out the door and out of the bunker. Once they are all outside, Catra slowly walks out from between the teeth of the skull that serves as their entrance.

 

She stops just a few feet away, the two trouble makers and their squads staring at her silently, facing each other. One of them is a lanky, scaled creature with bulky thighs and beady black eyes, wearing a white tank top and gold chain underneath their gang jacket. The other is a furred one, with big arms, little hands and fangs. Each ‘squad’ is made up of five or six people. Everyone else had climbed up onto the ribs of the cage-like arena to watch. 

 

Before anyone can blink, she delivers a simultaneous punch and kick to each of their faces. Both members fall flat on their backs. Everything is silent for a beat, then both groups begin attacking. 

 

Catra takes each of them out, punching, kicking, clawing, or whipping every last one of them into submission until they are all on the ground and stay there. Cheering rises up from the walls, echoing down the canyon. Catra relishes in it for a moment, then holds up her claw to silence them.

 

Voice booming, she shouts: “WHO’S THE STRONGEST IN THE CRIMSON WASTE?!”

 

The response comes in two beat synchronicity: “CA-TRA!”

 

“WHO PROTECTS YOU?”

 

“CA-TRA!”

 

“WHO PROVIDES FOR YOU?”

 

“CA-TRA!”

 

“AND WHO ARE YOU LOYAL TO?”

 

“CA-TRA!”

 

Her voice lowers to a growl, “Then why are we fighting each other based on severed ties to old, weak leaders?” She glares at the members on the ground. The two “leaders”’ struggle to a standing position. They look at each other, then back to her, then back at each other. One of them starts chanting, and the rest join in until all of the voices around her are screaming loud in her ears.

 

“CA-TRA! CA-TRA! CA-TRA! CA-TRA! CA-TRA! CA-TRA! CA-TRA! CA-TRA! CA-TRA! CA-TRA!” Her blue and gold eyes glint in the night.

 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

After her show of strength, Catra looks pleased with herself. Most of the spectators head back to their semi-public bar nearby - Wasted. It was a very corny name, but she used it as a front for gaining intel from locals that weren’t of fighting quality. She has a quick drink with some of her more loyal members, then heads off to her quarters. Scorpia decides to stay with the gang at the bar. 

 

“That was incredible, right?! Catra’s such a great fighter and such an awesome leader! I’ve never seen anything so badass in my life!” The group laughs. One of the lizards - she thinks his name is Scruften - replies,

 

“Sure, that was pretty cool, but you know you don’t have to keep it up, right?” They turn to her.

 

“What do you mean?” Scorpia looks genuinely confused.

 

“Constant flattery of the Boss. Like we know she’s great - that’s why we’re here.”

 

“Well sure, I know - I’m just always so impressed!” Scorpia raises her claw to the bartender for a refill.

 

Kensa, a tall, skinny, snake-like girl jumps in, “Oh man, no guys - I think she’s for real; and got it baaaaad!” The group laughs.

 

“What do you mean??” Scorpia blushes deeply and the bartender chuckles as she refills her drink. “We’re just best friends!” They laugh even harder.

 

“Buddy, your blush is a dead giveaway. You liiiiiike her.” Kensa says, wiping a tear from her eye.

 

“Oh no! I-I mean of course I like her, but not like that! At least, I don’t think...” Scorpia adds the last part more quietly, turning towards the bar. The guys in the group keep laughing and move on to a different topic, but Kensa notices the movement and slides into the seat next to Scorpia. 

 

“Hey, it’s okay if you do. There’s nothing wrong with having a crush on someone - even if that someone is kinda crazy.”

 

“She’s not crazy!” Scorpia counters defensively. “She’s just misunderstood. She had a rough go of it, and she’s gotten much better at showing her feelings.”

 

“Either that or you’ve just gotten better at reading them. The only emotions I’ve ever seen her show are anger or… yeah, just anger.” Kensa chuckles and takes another swig.

 

“Catra has more than just anger! She makes sure that everyone here is fed and has access to water and booze! She lets in anyone who wants to join!”

 

She snorts, “Yeah after they fight for their life for her amusement. I get it, you have the hots for her so it’s hard to see her flaws. So tell me this: when has she treated you like the incredible friend that you are? Has she ever apologised for snapping at you?”

 

“Catra only snaps when she’s hungry or hasn’t slept or is stressed out!” Kensa shoots her a look. “W-which is fairly often but I get it! I get hangry too! And running the biggest gang in the Crimson Waste - probably ever - is not easy!”

 

“Defensive much?” Kensa sips her drink, but continues looking over at Scorpia. She hangs her head.

 

“Yeah, sorry. It’s … it’s the little things with Catra. Sometimes she’ll give me something that she thinks I’ll like, or lets me go to bed while she stays up to plan. She listens to my ideas…”

“Oh yeah, real romantic stuff.” Kensa rolls her eyes. “If you want something with her, you’re probably going to have to be direct-- but Scorpia?” She looks up from her drink. “You deserve the best. You’re sweet. You’re thoughtful. You’re smart, and you’re strong. Don’t let anyone, including Catra, make you feel otherwise.”

 

Scorpia smiles, a light blush covering her cheeks. “Thanks, Kensa.”

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