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whumpster-fire · 3 days ago

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Regarding the design of staircases: while pre-industrial (and earlier industrial) societies did do all kinds of sketchy shit with staircase design, stairs do need to be pretty consistent to avoid turning into death traps. The maximum variation in the height and depth of steps within a staircase allowed by the International Residential Code and International Building Code is just 3/8 of an inch. Stair tread lengths also have to be long enough to fit the user's foot: generally a minimum of 10-11 inches in modern codes.

If I'm reading the drawing right, the third image essentially has alternating large and small steps, with the expectation that the larger species only uses the large steps, correct? However, the largest tread needs to be big enough to fit a Panthera's paw, and the height of any one riser, whether from long tread to short one or from short tread to long one, must be a uniform height that's usable by Mustels.

For the sake of easier math let's say the larger treads need to be 12" deep to safely accommodate Pantheras, a little larger than a human staircase, and an 8" total riser height is comfortable for them, while Mustels need a 6" tread depth, and to keep the riser heights consistent for them the riser height should be 4". (I'm using inches here because that's what the International Building Code has round numbers in for some reason). An individual staircase with these dimensions would have a slope of 2/3 (33.7 degrees): however, with this design, every pair of treads and risers has a total height of 8" and total length of 18", meaning the total slope is 4/9 (24 degrees). The combined staircase needs to cover 50% more horizontal distance for the same gain in height than one built for a single species would, and since a separate Mustel sized staircase wouldn't need to be as wide as a Panthera sized one, I think the space savings would be negligible in reality.

As for the usability of the stairs: if I was using those as a Mustel I'd need to either alternate between rising and non-rising strides (i.e. left foot on small tread, right foot on large tread, left foot on large tread, right foot on small tread) or lengthen my stride to cover the 18" distance between consecutive small treads in two steps, which could be awkward or difficult either way. As a Panthera I would need to use a longer stride length as well, and putting my foot on the small tread by accident would most likely result in tripping, but it would be somewhat manageable. As a Gilter, however, if the Mustel-sized tread is too small to safely step on I'd also be stuck using the Panthera-height steps which also need a longer than normal stride length, which would be even more awkward!

For the second staircase: if I'm reading it right the idea is if you're a Gilter you can have one foot on the small staircase and one foot on the large one and take steps that are half as long and high as if you were using the big stairs, right? This seems more or less usable if the half-sized treads are long enough for your feet, but if it's like, Gilters need a tread depth that's somewhere around 1-1/2 times as much as a Mustel, the half steps would have to be 8-9" long, so the big ones would have to be 16-18", and the height of the small risers is still constrained by what's usable by a Mustel so if that was 4", then again the "Small staircase in the middle" design ends up needing to have a shallower slope for the dimensions of the steps to be usable. This design is more usable for Gilters, but if it was built as shown then Mustels using it wouldn't have a handrail within reach which might lower the riser height they can safely use even further. A set of Mustel/Gilter sized railings in the center of the smaller steps would make it more usable, and putting Panthera-sized handrails on the outside would help direct them away from the smaller steps where they could trip and/or collide with smaller species, because the center section isn't really usable for Pantheras. If the idea is to build it narrow enough that a Panthera needs to place their feet on either side of the central smaller steps, that's going to kill someone, so in practice this staircase needs to be wide enough for a Panthera to walk on the side and completely avoid the small steps. That means these stairs have to be about as wide as a Mustel-sized staircase and a Panthera-sized staircase side by side, and with a shallower angle.

It looks like the smaller species also have proportionally shorter legs though, so the difference in ideal stride lengths might be a lot bigger than 2:1, plus the are the smaller species' feet proportionally bigger? If the riser height and tread depth that's usable for a Mustel is more like 1/3rd or 1/4th of what works for Panthera instead of 1/2 I think the third staircase ends up being impossible to build in a way where Mustels could ascend a step with every stride and would still require extra high steps for them, while for the second design making the smaller steps deep enough for Gilters without being really awkward for a Mustel.

The good news, however, is that a "Londo Style" approach, even if it had three fully separate sets of steps for all three species, would probably only need to be a little over twice as wide as just building a Panthera-sized staircase. And that's the worst case, for a "low traffic" staircase where they're only sized to be wide enough for either someone to go up in one direction or for one person in each direction. If it's a "high traffic" scenario where there are lots of users of all species and it would need to be built wide enough to have multiple "lanes" of people using it, splitting that width into separate staircases might have little or no impact on the total space a stairway takes up, and it might even accommodate more traffic if it prevents people from having to slow down to safely negotiate awkwardly sized steps / avoid collisions with smaller users.

Note also that this is assuming the larger species using the stairs also have significantly longer feet. If the largest species in a setting has proportionally short feet, e.g. if they're digitigrade or unguligrade, it may be possible to design stairs where the larger users can just climb them two steps at a time and still be able to safely put their feet on the treads. Depending on the design of a building there may also be other ways to reduce space: e.g. because Mustels and Gilters also need less headroom, you can reduce the footprint of a flight of stairs for them by putting in more frequent landings. For a multi story building the minimum footprint used for stairs might be achieved with completely separate stairwells.

tl;dr: I think the three staircase designs presented would come out pretty similar in terms of space used because "Londo Style" separated staircases can actually be built at that 30-50 degree angle (modern building codes for commercial stairways are closer to 30, older stairs are often steeper but this is definitely a "building codes are written in blood" kind of area) whereas the "space saving" designs are constrained by treads needing to be deep enough for the largest species using them to stand on it without half their foot hanging off the end while also having a riser height that the smallest species can use, which forces a shallower angle than would otherwise be possible, and may not be workable if the difference in leg length between largest and smallest users is too big. They might have a use case in outdoor stairs that need to follow natural slopes that are shallow enough for them but too steep for a sloped path, though.

How equal can a society be if some fundamentals are unusable by a third of the population? You can learn a lot about a world by looking at the little details, especially in furry settings!

#worldbuilding #furgonomics #stairs #stairs that can kill you #stairs that will kill you

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hiraizyo · 2 days ago

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i’ve been thinking only of you.

synopsis — the lines between your agreement with daniela begin to blur the longer it continues, causing serious confusion of feelings.

friends with benefits, slight fluff, jealous!dani, lesserafim 6th member!reader

now playing: woo, by rihanna

a/n: here y’all go! this is a little longer than i expected, so i split it up into three parts :) the second part should be up in a few days. there’s also slight kazuha x reader, also not proofread!

when you first met daniela avanzini, it was during lesserafim’s surprise greeting with the dream academy girls. from the moment you stepped foot into the dance room, you couldn’t keep your eyes off her.

the second time you met her was after the katseye members had been announced, and your group had promotions to do in america. yunjin, being the social butterfly she is, arranged for the two groups to meet up during a free day within your schedule.

you and daniela hit it off immediately. spending the whole day side by side, wandering off together while the other girls waited in line for a carnival ride, clinging onto each others arms. by the end of your little outing, you and daniela had exchanged numbers, texting each other when you had the chance despite the time difference and the busy schedules.

the third time you saw one another, katseye had come to south korea. upon hearing this news, daniela immediately set up a date for the two of you to hang out together.

that day, while it was only you and her in the room of your dorm, the dynamic shifted. you now saw her in a different light. there was something about her that kept you entranced, wanting to feel her close, her body against yours.

this marked the beginning of your agreement.

you understood each other — the busy schedules, the overworking, the long hours of learning and practicing choreography, all the time spent in the studio. the stress of being in a girl group allowed for you and her to take it out on one another in the best way possible; ravishing her body as she would do to yours.

the rules were simple. you were not to tell anyone about the arrangement, nor were you allowed to leave any evidence of being together. that meant no hickeys, no scratch marks, no leaving clothes at each other’s dorms, and no staying the night.

to the public and group members, you were simply good friends. but behind closed doors, that was when the truth about you and daniela came out, allowing for your deepest desires to rise above the surface.

at first, it was easy.

months had gone by without a single slip up, meeting one another whenever either of you were in the same country. although as time went on, neither of you could deny you were falling deeper into each other, no matter how much of an attempt there was to hide it.

but you had to remind yourselves that this was all fun and games, nothing was to be taken seriously.

the first time daniela could feel the strings of her heart being tugged was the when you had broken one of the rules. you knew it was dangerous territory, but it was late, and daniela’s bed was even more comfortable than you remember. the kats’ would be out for a few more hours, and the moment they were out the door she was calling you over, the empty place allowing for you and her to have as much fun as you could.

the latino shifted to lay on her stomach beside you, leaning up her forearms that were tucked under a pillow. you lay with your head facing up, one hand tucked behind your head while the other rests atop your stomach, body being covered by the sheet.

daniela gazed at you, her eyes tracing over your neck and collarbones. “do you want to stay the night?” she asked, quietly.

you looked at the girl, her lips bruised and her curls a mess. it was silent for a moment, as daniela watched you think over her proposal.

“dani, i shouldn’t…” you whispered, voice hoarse.

you turned to look for the nearest article of clothing you could find, knowing where this was leading. it caused you to run a hand through your hair, avoiding her gaze. daniela brought up a hand to rest on your shoulder, her touch warm.

“i know we have all the rules, but this won’t mean anything.” she insisted, her nails raking over your skin. “c’mon, it’s late, and it’s dark out.”

you sighed, staring at her for a moment. “fine.”

realizing she had won you over, daniela smiled, her pearly white teeth on display. she shuffled closer to place a kiss on your cheek, earning a chuckle from you.

you moved your hand away from behind your head until it rested on her lower back, tapping your pinky and ring finger just above her ass.

“but we should get dressed at least, i doubt manon will let you live this down if she finds us naked and sleeping together.” you told her, cheeky smile in place.

she nodded, understanding where you were coming from. and when she moved off the bed to search for hers and your clothing that had been wildly scattered around the room, you couldn’t help but shamelessly stare at her body.

the following morning, while the rest of the girls were all in their rooms still sound asleep, you and daniela stood in the kitchen of the katseye house. it was early in the day, but you needed to be back at the hotel lesserafim was staying at before leaving for you scheduled plans.

you pecked daniela’s lips, tasting the remnants of the coffee she had finished. “thank you for breakfast.”

“you’re welcome.” she grinned, trailing her hands up until they wrapped around your neck and kissed you again.

you smiled into the kiss, letting yourself relax in the intimate moment, until you remembered where you were.

you pulled away, alarm clear in your eyes. “aren’t you worried about the girls?”

daniela played with your baby hairs as she smirked. her lips ghosted over yours, whispering, “we’re sneaking around, this is what makes it fun.”

before you could speak again, she shut you up with another kiss. rough and fast paced, you kissed one another with passion as you knew this would be the last time you’d see one another for a while. her hands tangled in your hair, while yours gripped her waist tightly.

a few more seconds went by, and when you finally separated both of your cheeks were flushed, chests moving up and down in quick motion.

daniela bit her lip, moving her hands down until she was holding onto the chain of your necklace, twisting it between her fingers. “this is cute.”

“you think so?” you glanced down at the necklace briefly, smiling when you saw the latina nod.

you moved her hands away from you, letting them go and reaching behind your neck to unclasp the necklace. with ease, you placed it around her neck, and fastened the necklace. it dropped around her neck, hanging loosely as you settled your hands on her shoulders.

“you should have it.” you told her, brushing her hair behind her shoulders to admire the way the necklace looked on her.

daniela looked at you with a blush, her eyes shining with wonderment. she could feel her body fill with warmth, her stomach fluttering.

for a moment, everything around you stilled in place as you stared at the stars in her eyes.

she lightly pushed against your chest, her heart stuttering at the brief intimate moment. clearing your throat, you took a quick look at the clock hanging in the wall, realizing you’d have to leave now before chaewon would start calling your phone.

“i’ll see you in a couple weeks.” you told her once you were standing outside the door.

daniela was leaning against the doorframe, nodding along as she said her final goodbyes. she watched as you walked off, back now facing her.

when she made her way back to the kitchen, she was playing with your necklace absentmindedly, not noticing megan standing by the coffee machine, yawning.

“morning.” daniela greeted her, cleaning up the cups and plates from having breakfast with you.

“oh, hey.” megan replied, watching her friend move around the kitchen. “did yn just leave?”

“yup.” the latina nodded, and began running water in the sink for the dishes. “she said she needed to get back or else chaewon would have her head.” daniela laughed, remembering the description you gave her of seeing chaewon angry, like a young puppy.

megan positively shook her head, moving around the kitchen silently as she opened the draw for a tea spoon and some sugar from the cupboard. she made her cup of coffee quickly, stirring the drink together with milk.

“you guys are getting really close.” the ginger noted, taking a small sip of her drink after blowing on it.

daniela could feel a heart a skip a beat, wondering if megan has any suspicions of your agreement. she wiped her hands on a hand towel, facing her friend with a small smile, leaning against the counter, trying to seem as comfortable as possible.

“yeah, i mean, we’re becoming good friends.” daniela said, coughing lightly. she subtly breathed in a deep breath, trying to control her heart rate.

megan took another sip, tapping her finger on the side of the mug as she set it down on the kitchen island. “i take it you know about kazuha then.”

daniela tilted her head, curiosity now creeping in on her. “what?”

her eyebrows were creased together in interest. the reaction told megan that she was unaware, but the ginger didn’t think much of it as she continued with her story.

“yn and kazuha?” she leaned to rest her chin on her hand that was on the counter. “they had a thing a while back. i don’t know much of the details, but yunjin was telling me about it cause she’s worried it’s starting up again.”

daniela froze, her body running cold.

what the fuck was megan talking about?

the latina had never heard about you and kazuha being a thing. not once had you mentioned it to her, and she didn’t pick up on any weird vibes between you two when lesserafim and katseye were together a couple months ago.

she forced a smile. “yeah, no, uhm… i-i heard about it. little things, here and there.” she lied, her focus wavered as she stared in front of her.

megan hummed before beginning to talk about the events of the day. the group would be going into the studio, preparing for a new release. daniela, on the other hand, drowned out her words.

nakamura kazuha. you and kazuha. when did this happen? how long ago? and was it like what you and daniela were doing now? or was it something more?

she shook her head, trying to rid herself of those thoughts. she decided it wasn’t worth her time, and daniela knew if you didn’t saying anything about you and japanese girl then it was for good reason.

daniela never considered herself a jealous person.

she was secure enough to not be bothered by feelings like that. she knew she was a catch, and that anyone would be lucky to be with her. she was confident in herself, in her abilities, in her way to easily make any person fall in love with her.

so why was she so pressed about kazuha?

daniela didn’t want it to worry her, but the more she thought about it, the more a fire began to burn in her chest. the tight, hot feeling spread through her body as she watched a past live on her phone. staring back at her, was a video focused on you and the japanese from a couple days ago, when lesserafim had done group live.

kazuha sat in between you and eunchae, wearing a checkered flannel that showed this was a pretty casual and last minute decision to go live. beside her, you wore a black sweatshirt, with matching black sweatpants. daniela couldn’t help but stare, thinking you looked absolutely stunning despite the low effort outfit.

the japanese girl lay her head on your shoulder, laughing at something yunjin was saying in the background. daniela wasn’t taking note of anything, solely focused on the interactions between you and the other girl.

her jaw clenched as she watched you intertwine your hand together with hers, leaning your head back against the wall.

her attention shifted once yunjin’s forehead came into the frame, reading some of the comments. the american chuckled to herself, looking back at you and then at the phone once again. “yn, some one asked ‘is it true that you have a soft spot for kazuha?’” yunjin leaned away, gasping and pointing, “yes! fearnots, is it sooo true!”

your free hand was quick to rise up in the hair, shaking it violently. “that is not, jennifer! i love all my members equally!”

eunchae swat your arm playfully, her wide smile showing that she was clearly joking, but the rage daniela felt inside her didn’t see this as a joke.

“unnie, don’t lie!” she cackled, “i’ve seen it with my own eyes, anything i ask for you say no. but if zuha-unnie asks you’re immediately saying yes!”

the maknae nodded enthusiastically, trying to make it seem as if she wasn’t making this up. you shook your head, rolling your eyes at your youngest members antics.

chaewon chimed in, “remember that time we wanted to go out to eat, but yn said she was too tired? then when kazuha spoke about it, she was the first one out the door!”

the three girls all laughed, collectively shouting over one another as they recalled the memory. sakura tried her best to calm them down, trying to do some damage control.

daniela continued to watch as you weakly defended yourself, while kazuha pulled you into her and whispered in your ear. your cheeks flushed pink, then you snuggled closer to her, and daniela wondered to herself what the girl told you in that moment.

she locked her phone, the video cutting out and all she was left in was the silence of her thoughts. daniela had a sour expression, dropping her phone on the bed and turning to lay on her back.

she thought over the conversation with megan. what did she mean when she said yunjin was worried about things starting up again between you and kazuha?

“oh, for fucks sakes.” daniela groaned, running a hand through her hair.

manon heard her sound of displeasure as she walked into their shared room, closing the door behind her. “what’s got you so fired up?”

daniela rolled her eyes, “nothing.” she huffed, voice sharp. it was a little more aggressive than she intended, earning a teasing smile from her roommate.

“damn, who pissed in your cereal?” the girl chuckled, walking over to her side of the room and looking around in her closet.

daniela glared at the back of her friend, digging her nails into her hand. she didn’t reply, knowing that she would end up saying something she didn’t mean.

the sound of her ringtone caught her attention. she reached for her phone, sitting up in bed and saw your name flash across the screen.

for a second, her anger washed away.

she bit her lip, contemplating her thoughts. daniela’s gaze switched between her phone and manon, deciding to walk out the room in search for a more private space.

“hey,” she said as soon as she answered.

“hi pretty girl.” your voice came through the phone, as daniela sat on the couch. she made sure no one was around, playing with your necklace.

“why’d you call?” daniela asked. her mind was still focused on the live she had seen, the necklace now feeling like a cold burn on her skin.

you laughed lowly, “i wanted to talk to you, hear your voice.”

the words flowed easily off your lips, as if it meant nothing to you. but to daniela, it made her feel special. you wanted to talk to her, even if hours prior you were in the arms of kazuha.

she felt her lips tug upwards, a small smile in place. it did little to overshadow the jealousy she felt, but she had no right to feel this way. she knew that.

“well, you’re hearing it now.” she replied, masking her feelings. “wait— isn’t it late over there by you?”

her concern was valid, knowing the time difference was quite large. it made it difficult to communicate at times, but you and daniela worked around it as much as possible.

you shuffled around your room, the noise being heard on daniela’s end of the call. “don’t worry about that.” you told her, settling into your bed. “so, i’m coming to LA next week for a few photoshoots. i was hoping we could see each other again.”

daniela’s heart stuttered. here she was, being jealous of you and your group member, but all you wanted to do was see her. it had been over a month and half since the last time you’d been together, and you missed her much more than you’d like to admit.

“uh, i don’t know. i’ll have to check my schedule first.” daniela brushed off her nervous feeling, dismissing you completely.

“oh,” you mumbled, voice dropping. “i’m flying in on the thursday, but the saturday is one of my off days. do you think that’ll work for you?”

daniela let your necklace drop from her hand, instead picking at a loose thread of a couch pillow. “i was supposed to go out with lara on saturday.”

you swallowed, feeling a weird sensation in your chest at the mention of the girl. “ooh, replacing me now, are you?”

daniela giggled, moving the phone to her other hand so that she could press to her left ear. “maybe,” she played into your teasing. “does that bother you?”

“not at all.” you grinned, flexing your hand as you stared at it. “as long as i get to have you by the nighttime, it all works out.”

the latina pouted, “so, you’re just using me for sex?”

you chuckled, “was i being that obvious?”

she gasped at your words, and you could already imagine the mock offended look on her face. you laughed even more at the image you had in your head.

“that was such an douche move.” she scolded, her smile widening as she tried to sound upset. “you can forget about seeing me!”

“oh, come on,” you sighed heavily for dramatic effect. “i was only kidding. you’re much more to me than sex, babe.”

daniela paused her breathing, wishing what you had said was true. she blinked a couple times, distracting herself so that she wouldn’t face the truth of her feelings.

“you still there?” your voice cuts into her thoughts, reminding her of what was happening.

“yeah, sorry.” she mumbled. daniela cracked her knuckles of her right hand with her thumb. “uh— saturday works.”

“great!” you exclaimed, turning to lay on your side. “i have a little surprise, just so you know.”

before daniela could ask any further questions, you let her know that you were going to sleep, needing to be up early in the morning. she wished you a goodnight, and was left staring down at the material of the couch.

she wasn’t jealous, she couldn’t be. and she wasn’t allowed to be either, you weren’t hers, nor you were anything serious.

it was a harsh reminder that she chanted in her head, even when she restlessly lay in bed later than night, struggling to fall asleep.

i don’t know if i like this??

also felt like it was getting a little long and i lowk struggle with writing long imagines (personal preference) butttt i have some more ideas for the plot to progress, thats why i split it up into 3 parts :)

#katseye imagines #katseye #daniela avanzini #x reader #girlgroup #gxg

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mosoderbergh · 14 hours ago

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Emmrich and the good old fashioned body heat trope

Ok, there’a a thing about Rook and Emmrich pre-romance and the “caught in the cold” trope that is just beautiful to me. Because it would go a lot more innocently than with other pairings. Emmrich is far too much of a gentleman. But that’s what makes this so cute. Like… hear me out.

Emmrich knows the importance of keeping warm and the advantages of sharing body heat. He’s the sort of man who would read up on survival procedures before venturing out into extreme weather.

But surely, a shirt is thin enough to not significantly hinder the transmission of warmth. Surely he couldn’t be expected to strip entirely. He gets rid of some layers, but stays buttoned up to his neck. (Rook is shirtless the moment the words “it might be advisable to, well, huddle up” exit Emmrich’s mouth. They notice Emmrich spends the rest of the night holding intently focussed eye contact.) They cocoon themselves in blankets, sitting by the fire, shoulder to shoulder, backs leaning against insert obligatory cave/cliffside/tree trunk here. Emmrich has read just enough bodice rippers that an image comes, unbidden, to his mind. Of a broad-chested hero gallantly drawing the object of his desire into his muscled arms as they shiver and swoon. He is shocked at himself when he feels a blush creep up his neck. To even allow such a thought! This is nothing like that. A dashing hero may be present, yes, but they are caught in the cold with a colleague several decades their senior. There is nothing swoonworthy about it.

Emmrich files the thought away, and despite the awkward situation, the evening goes on… really rather pleasantly. They end up talking for a good long while. Rook opens up about their own upbringing and Emmrich elaborates on his. They share nostalgic memories. Emmrich recounts some shenanigans from his student days, and Rook can’t believe there’s a mischievous side to him (the mischievous side in question was called Johanna, but Emmrich doesn’t speak her name).

At some point, the comfortable silences stretch out longer and longer. Rook’s head rests on Emmrich’s shoulder. They aren’t quite asleep yet - when he reacts to the contact with an intake of breath, they draw back for a moment. But then, Emmrich leans in, just slightly. Just enough to let them know the touch is not unwelcome. The way Rook curls up at his side then makes Emmrich ache a little. As someone who is an authority figure to so many people (in a way that isolates him sometimes) this simple act of intimacy is precious to him. A show of trust on such a personal level. It takes him more courage than he’d like to admit to rest his cheek against Rook’s hair. The way Rook sighs contentedly gives him goosebumps. It’s been quite a while since Emmrich has shared a bed with anyone. And this is an unusual situation, but still… he can’t help but think how he has missed it. The companionship. The warmth. Sinking into sleep with the comfort of a friendly presence. The intoxicating closeness of someone who has found their way into his heart - this is another thought he tucks away neatly.

And because I can’t resist another trope, of COURSE they shift in their sleep. Emmrich wakes to find himself spooning Rook, with one hand resting on their stomach. They are soft there, and radiating heat. Emmrich thanks every deity he can recount that he tends to wake up early, because if he hadn’t been hard upon waking, the sensation of their body against his, their skin underneath his fingertips would have done the trick. He retreats discreetly to lie on his back. Only for Rook to shift and settle with their head on his chest, one leg draping over him, grazing his erection in the movement. Emmrich forgets to breathe.

He does wake them up, after he’s gotten a hold of himself somewhat. They untangle from him with a sleepy apology. And Emmrich, for a moment, wants nothing more than to stop them, or pull them back into an embrace, or…

He chastises himself for being a touch-starved old fool. Making so much out of nothing. But then Rook slides a hand up to squeeze his shoulder, and they smile at him brightly, beautifully, and ask him if he slept well. And it’s all he can do to swallow a rather wordy confession of his growing infatuation.

(The beauty of Emmrich, to me, is that he’s both a “I could out-sex any man in this room” kind of guy AND an “omg I can’t believe our hands touched” kind of guy. I love him.)

#emmrich volkarin #emmrook #emmrich x rook #dragon age emmrich #da4 emmrich #emmrich the necromancer #dragon age the veilguard #ok it did get a little steamy for a moment there #but I just think they're cute

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bueckersstuff · 1 day ago

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REMEMBER

Click here for chapter: 1 & 2

Chapter 3: Forgotten Faces, Remembered Pain

Paige's POV

I grew up here in Minnesota, living what seemed like a perfect life until I left for college in Connecticut three years ago. Good family, solid school, a career I was proud of, the best friends anyone could ask for. I had everything I could have dreamed of. Or at least, I thought I did. But then, a certain someone walked back into my life, and now I realized—time doesn’t heal anything. You just get used to carrying the weight of what hurts for a lot longer than you should.

It all started when I was twelve, discovering my love for basketball. My dad used to bring me to this basketball court just down the street to practice, sometimes for hours. We’d always end up at the local convenience store, grabbing snacks—he’d stock up on chips while I picked out ice cream. I still remember that day. I grabbed my usual chocolate ice cream, lined up to pay, and that’s when I heard it.

"No! What you gave me is a dollar short! I can count!" A girl’s voice, sharp with frustration, cutting through the air. I turned, half expecting some kind of mistake, but she was standing there, arguing with the cashier, insisting on the right change.

I couldn’t help it—my eyes met hers, and she shoved the receipt into my face, her little face demanding validation.

"You know math? Tell me I’m right, and she’s wrong."

I had to laugh. I looked at the cashier, then back at her. "Yeah, you’re right." Though I was laughing, I actually glanced at the receipt and she was, indeed, right.

She flashed that cocky grin of hers, so smug. "See? Told you I’m right."

That was just the beginning.

She started following me around, asking questions, poking into my life, telling me she had no friends, she was bored all the time. I didn’t even know why I let her in, but I did. So, I told her, "If you want to waste time, you can come watch me practice. You live around here, right?" She had mentioned earlier that she lives nearby.

"Yeah, that works," she replied, smirking. "I can waste time and practice my math by counting your scores. That is, if you can score."

That was her way of challenging me.

Five years. Five years we spent inseparable, like we couldn’t exist without each other. And then, the world broke apart.

One day, she came to practice with bloodshot eyes, her face red and blotchy from crying. Before I could even ask, she blurted out, her voice cracking:

"I’m leaving Minnesota. Mom says it’s for work, and we’ll be back sooner than I think."

She started sobbing uncontrollably. "I don’t want to leave. I can’t leave you here alone."

I was speechless. My world was spinning, and I didn’t know how to respond. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it.

"If that’s what the adults want, there’s nothing we can do about it, right?" I muttered, trying to ease the tension. "We can still talk on video calls, and you’ll be back before you know it."

But what about what I wanted?

"No!" she screamed. "If I leave, you’ll forget about me. You’ll find new friends!"

I could hear the panic in her voice, and it drove a sharp pain into my chest. "I won’t. I promise. It’s just us two, forever and ever."

And then she was gone.

For two years, we kept in touch, but as soon as I moved to Connecticut for college, things started to unravel. The calls grew less frequent, the arguments more intense. Silence followed, suffocating silence. No texts, no calls. Just emptiness.

I thought she was living her best life—at least, that’s what her social media told me. She seemed happy, thriving. But where did that leave me? Did "forever and ever" mean nothing? Was I just another part of her past, fading away?

I moved on, or so I told myself. I threw myself into my studies, my career. But still, there were nights when I found myself searching for her name, staring at her photos, wondering what had happened. Longing. Disappointment. Anger. Then confusion. Why was I still so obsessed? She left me all alone, even when I needed her the most. When I suffered an injury while playing my sport, I thought she’d be there for me, but I was wrong. I admit, I reached out to her, sending messages here and there—but maybe that was just my vulnerability talking. In the end, it didn’t matter. The lowest point of my life wasn’t even worth her time.

And then, there she was. Standing in front of me. But she was... different. Not in a good way. Something about her seemed so out of place. Her whole aura had changed. What happened to her?

It’s been a week since that first encounter, and I’m running errands for Drew. I roll my eyes—he’s got the audacity to ask me to get ice cream for him. As I’m perusing the different flavors, out of the corner of my eye, I see him.

Steve.

The shock is immediate, but the look on his face is worse. He’s more stunned than I am. But why is that? Am I not supposed to see him anymore?

"Paige? Long time no see! What are you doing here? I thought you were in Connecticut?"

My heart skips a beat. He keeps tabs on me?

"I’m on a break. Gonna head back tomorrow though, classes start soon. It’s good to see you again, Steve." I try to sound calm, but it’s hard when my mind is still reeling. "How’s Emma?"

His face contorts, and I see a flicker of pain—something I haven’t seen before, and it sends a sharp pang through me.

"Emma’s gone. Just three months ago."

The words crash into me like a wrecking ball. What? Emma’s dead?

I don’t know what to say. My mouth goes dry. "Oh my god. I’m so sorry. How are you holding up?"

"We’re fine now, I guess. But the last three months have been hell. Losing Emma... and then having my daughter almost..." He trails off, his voice cracking. "I’m just thankful my daughter got lucky."

My stomach drops. "What do you mean?"

"I came here with my daughter. You haven’t seen her yet?" he asks, and the words send a shiver through me.

Oh, I've seen her, but then she disappears again for the rest of the week.

"But maybe even if you did, she won’t remember you," he adds, his voice tinged with sadness.

I freeze. What?

"She’s suffering from a temporary memory loss from the accident, Paige."

She forgot me? She forgot about us?

The ice cream Steve is holding shakes slightly in his hands, and I suddenly realize I’m staring at it. "Is that for her? That’s her favorite."

"Yeah. I’m hoping it’ll help her remember, you know?" Steve’s voice breaks, and it feels like the weight of everything is pressing in on me.

I don’t know why I say it, but it spills out before I can stop myself.

"I want to help. Make her remember."

I must be crazy.

He looks at me, surprised but grateful. "You would? That means a lot to me, Paige."

He pauses for a moment, his eyes a little distant, before continuing. "I’ve been thinking about it for a while now—about sending her back to school. The doctors think getting back into a routine could help her. They said it might spark something, help her remember what she loved." He exhales, his voice wavering slightly. "I’ve been struggling with whether or not it's the right time, but... I think it might be the only way."

I barely hear him as my mind races. "She can attend to mine. Transfer her. She can join the swimming team. She still swims, right?"

Or maybe I'm just out of my fucking mind.

"Yes!" Steve’s face lights up. "That’s actually a great idea. I’ll start processing her papers next week."

She needs to remember. Because when she finally looks me in the eye and says sorry, it won’t be some empty apology. It’ll be real.

She’ll remember me. She has to.

Chapter 4 setting's gonna be at Uconn. More interactions and stuff!! <3

Taglist: @authentic-girl03 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @0phantom0 @sjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj

#paige bueckers #uconn #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige buckets #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers x oc

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siri-ike · 10 hours ago

Text

A little crime, as a treat

chapter 2

"%!&#%@/×/@^#&×%^ %@&× %@^×!" Jason shouted from his ofice window. "Was that a #^!&@ carriage? A !%@^ Carriage just drove into the !%&@ ground with my best %^@ assistant?!?!? My right-hand man!? My %!& %@^# %!^#@ for a %@&@: %@^ and @%&@:?!?!" He jumped out, landing on the ground three floors lower.

That $@% brainless, $@%#, @%#; hot pice of $@^@ better not have gotten himself $@%#^, or some other eaqualy $@^ up version of %#^!^. Not on Jason's payroll.

《~~~~~~》

Danny couldn't believe it. He came to the ghost zone expecting to get arrested, proposed to, or challenged to a duel of some sort.

Not this.

"I, I can't be ghost king." Danny pleaded. "I'm not even fully a ghost." The giant hands around him felt less comforting by the second.

"You defeated Pariah Dark. That alone makes you worthy." Frostbite beamed with approval.

"But, but I'm too young. Wouldn't it be better to have someone older?" Danny's breath quickened.

"Pariah was old, and you saw how that worked out. Perhaps it is time for a more modern view."

"But I, I can't, I," He struggled.

"Sir, the people await," the short ghost from before got their attention before opening another large pair of doors, revealing what looked like some kind of giant opposite church. A hundred rows of ghosts on either side of a clear aisle. And at the end stood Clockwork, the observants and,

A sword in a pumpkin.

《~~~~~~》

As soon as the call ended, Constantine hurriedly grabbed everything of importance or value in his apparent. There was no way he'd stick around to see what $@%^* the red hood wants from him. Best case, sinario, he wants some magic devilry. Worst case? John does not have the imagination for that. He rushed out the door, only to be intercepted by gang members wearing red. Bollocks. How's he meant to bull^!%^ his way out of this one?

《~~~~~~》

"No excuses," Frostbite lifted Danny's face up by his chin. "My boy, the title is largely symbolic. The ghost zone has run without a ruler for longer than most of us can remember."

That was at least a little reassuring. Not enough to let go of his death grip on Frostbites arm.

"Now go, I'll be right here." He beamed. "Remember to let out the cold."

Danny looked down at his hands. He was shaking.

OK, just like they'd trained. Breathe in, breathe out.

《~~~~~~》

Jason's usually a safer driver. Not a safe driver. Mind you, just safer than this.

《~~~~~~》

His first step, the carpet leading to the alter, froze. Delicate embroidery is obscured through a thick layer of ice. Icicles grow behind him and quickly melt into slush. In front of both Frostbite and Clockwork. And other people he supposes.

As he walks down the aisle, alone, he notices some familiar faces. Ghosts he'd fought, ghosts he'd helped, ghosts who had helped him. Whith varying degrees of satisfaction on their faces.

Had any of them even tried to challenge him for the crown? He searched his memory and couldn't find a significant ghost attack, even for other reasons in the past 10 years. Might they actually want him to be king?

《~~~~~~》

"Better not be trying to leave." Red Hood was plenty scary over the phone. He simply had no business being scarier in person.

"Who, me? Never." Constantine lied.

"This morning, a horse-drawn carriage appeared out of nothing, took my assistant, and disappeared into the ground. Know anything about that?"

"That sounds like relms business, I had nothing to do with it." He stuttered.

"I know you didn't take him. You know better than to take what's mine." Hood reassured? Threatened? "Tell me who took him."

Constantine breathed a sigh of relief.

#fanfic #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc au #danny phantom #jason todd #red hood #ghost king danny #john constantine

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honeypiehotchner · 14 hours ago

Text

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part six

About the ending of this one: don't hate me! Hate Hotch :)

Warnings: angst! the usual! a meeting with Strauss, Rossi knowing Hotch too well and it annoying the fuck out of Hotch (lovingly)

Everyone knows the case isn’t over, but it might as well be. With nothing else to uncover and Lila safely returned home, the BAU team is called back to Quantico.

Hotch makes sure that the Monroes have some security round the clock in their neighborhood, especially on their street. He doesn’t think anything will happen, but then again, no one can ever be certain.

The problem is that they can only afford the security for so long. One week, at the most.

You ignore Hotch the entire way home on the jet. In your defense, you ignore everyone. You put your headphones in and curl up in one of the chairs toward the back, perfectly secluded from everyone else.

Hotch watches you, trying not to look as worried as he feels, and hating that he feels such deep worry for you. Sure, your words stung earlier, that he’s the last person you’d want to work for, but they weren’t entirely untrue. You are the last person he expected or wanted to walk through those glass doors.

He hasn’t had the chance to discuss your placement with Strauss, but he will. Either it was pure coincidence that she placed you here, or she thinks she’s being funny. If it’s the latter, he hopes she can see how hard he isn’t laughing.

Rossi lightly kicks Hotch’s leg under the table. He raises his eyebrows when Hotch drags his eyes over to him.

“What?” Hotch says, settling down further into his seat, glancing at the file he’s supposed to be going over. “Got a cramp?”

Rossi scoffs. “Do you?”

Hotch hums. “When do you think they’ll send us the sketch?” He’s trying hard to change this subject to anywhere but where Rossi wants to take it.

Rossi, of course, ignores Hotch’s question. “I’m guessing she didn’t appreciate you prying into her past.”

Hotch focuses very hard on one word in the file, wondering if he might make it catch fire. “No, she didn’t.”

“Well,” Rossi sighs, looking out the window. “Serves you right.”

Hotch’s eyes snap up, glaring tiredly at his friend.

“What?” Rossi asks innocently. “It’s too soon. You should’ve known better.”

“You know just as well as anyone that in order for this team to work well together we need to have an established level of trust—”

“Save the pep talk,” Rossi waves him off. “I think you just can’t stand being left out of the loop. There’s a missing piece here and you can’t take it.”

Hotch doesn’t know if Rossi is still talking about you or not. “Richard said—”

“I heard what he said,” Rossi interrupts again and Hotch really wishes he’d stop doing that. “And if it was anything that concerns us, don’t you think it would’ve come up in her background check? That you, as Unit Chief, have to go over.”

Hotch can’t say that he disagrees there. He does go over the background checks, just a glance, really. Maybe his eyes lingered on yours a little longer, so what? Maybe he tried to focus on smaller details to puzzle you out, so what? That’s not a crime.

What is criminal is hiding things from the team, especially the Unit Chief. He hates to pull rank, he really does, but when one of the FBI’s Most Wanted sits in an interrogation room and says he recognizes your newest agent, isn’t that cause for concern? Especially when said agent refuses to elaborate?

Why would Richard Monroe of all people recognize you? Or a younger version of you, so he says, because you’re older now than he remembers. Did he see a picture of you? How and where and why and from who?

Rossi is right. There’s a missing piece. And Hotch can’t stand it.

+++

Hotch gives you the following day off. You know damn well that isn’t standard, and that everyone else is still going into the office, but you don’t argue with him. He’s as surprised as you are about the fact.

Instead, you sleep in, you have a slow morning, you make brunch, and you do everything in your power to not think about your father.

It’s easier said than done most days. It’s hard not to think about him when there’s so much you don’t know — so much you’ll never know.

Because he’s dead. You know that for a fact. Got a phone call from the prison ward and everything.

Still, your mind wanders. You hold your coffee close, the mug practically burning your palms, but you’re too in your head to feel it.

Lila…everything about it was so similar to your situation. Kind of. Given that you still don’t know who kidnapped her, and you might never find out, it could be a freak coincidence.

You roll your eyes at yourself. Coincidence. Yeah, right. You stopped entertaining the childish idea of those long ago. Everything happens for a reason, which is why you have such a gut feeling about Lila. You just need to get to the bottom of it.

But you have no clue how.

+++

When you return to the BAU the following day, well rested and somewhat less anxious, you head straight for Hotch’s office.

Not because you want to. God, no. Hotch summoned you via text while you were still on the freeway.

You make him wait, though. You need coffee first.

After a pit stop at the staff coffee pot, and then at Emily's desk to chat, you waltz into Hotch’s office without knocking — his blinds are open and you can clearly see he isn’t busy — earning you an exasperated look from your new boss.

“Don’t give me that look,” you snap without thinking. “You’re the one who called me for a meeting when I wasn’t even halfway here yet. So what? What do you want?”

Hotch really wonders why he tries to be patient with you. “Sit down.”

“Gladly,” you smile, knowing it has to look as fake as it feels. You lower yourself into one of his stiff chairs across from his desk.

Hotch takes a moment, clearly pulling himself together, before he asks, “How are you?”

Your coffee freezes midway to your mouth. You drop the mug back down, resting it on your thigh, letting it burn you there. “Fine,” you give a little shrug. “Thanks for the day off, boss.”

“I thought you might need it,” he replies, like he’s caught you in something.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“I think you’re being an asshole on purpose,” you conclude. “I think I make you nervous, and you’re not used to that, so you take it out on me by being an ass.”

“Projecting, are we?”

“Proving my point, are we?” you grumble, ignoring how right he might be. You take a scorching sip of your coffee. “What did you actually want?”

Hotch stares at you for a moment, studying your face. You stare right back at him, unperturbed.

He’s going to learn that two can play at this game whether he likes it or not.

He’s the first to look away, down at the files on his desk. “The sketch artist spoke with Lila.”

“And?”

“She refused.”

You sit up straighter, nearly spilling your coffee. “What?”

Hotch’s eyes lift to yours. “She refused.”

You sit back again, propping your elbow on the arm of the chair to rub your forehead. “Okay. So what does this mean?”

Hotch threads his fingers together on his desk. “Her mom is going to talk to her, see if she can convince her to talk to the artist again.”

You nod slowly, looking out the window. “Okay. That’s good.” You’re not sure if she will. Or if it’ll get her in any trouble. She’s just a kid.

Hotch stays silent. Your coffee burns your thigh just enough finally that you move to rest it on the other arm of the chair.

You pause, looking over at him without moving your head. Your eyes narrow. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I thought you might like to know.”

You turn your head, smirking. “Missed me?”

He frowns.

You lift your coffee to your lips, waiting for Hotch to say something else, like you know he will.

He does. “I thought you might be able to shine some light on why she refused.”

You glare at him, but you finish your sip of coffee. “And no one else on the team was capable of shedding light?”

He stares you down. You return the favor.

You’re the first to cave this time. “What do you want from me, Hotch?”

“The truth would be a great start.”

All you can do is laugh, so you do, hanging your head. “Great meeting.” You stand and head for the door, raising your mug. “I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”

You hear Hotch push his chair back as he raises to his feet. “We’re not done.”

You pause, but you stay at the door. “You just don’t know how to leave well enough alone, huh?”

“I can write you up for insubordination.”

“Go ahead,” you shrug. “I could use another day off.”

On that note, and before he can hold you captive any longer, you yank his office door open and escape to your desk.

Hotch watches you through his open blinds. The way you settle into your desk chair, the way your hand shakes as you lift your mug to your lips.

It’s not that he can’t understand why you won’t confide in him -- or, well, it’s less about confiding and more about just telling him the truth. He doesn’t need to be your confidant, or anything remotely friendly. God knows you wouldn’t want that.

But this is serious. A serial killer recognizes his agent, shakes them up so bad they have what he can only assume was a panic attack in the parking lot, and he’s supposed to, what? Forget he saw anything?

Forget like his life didn’t flash before his eyes when he saw you crouched down, fighting to take in a single breath of air? Forget like he didn’t pace his entire apartment last night, recalling everything he knows about you to try to ascertain why an FBI’s Most Wanted would recognize you as a child? Forget like he didn’t nearly make himself sick with the implications of that?

It’s uncharted territory for him. Members of his team have hidden things from him before, but they’ve let the truth out. They’ve let him help.

You don’t seem keen to do either of those. Again, it’s not like he doesn’t understand. The two of you aren’t exactly each other’s favorite person -- and won’t ever be. But the nature of the work you do…this isn’t something Hotch can just let go.

+++

The next week at the BAU passes similarly and without much fanfare. No new cases come in -- surprisingly -- but a few seminars come up, some mountains of paperwork, and a meeting with Strauss.

The latter comes as a shock. You think for sure that it is Hotch’s doing, and you’re entirely prepared for a fight. You’re either being fired, reprimanded for your behavior, or who knows what else.

What you don’t expect is for it to be lunch. Plain and simple.

“Thank you for joining me,” Strauss says, in an uncharacteristically good mood, guiding you over to her comfortable chairs. “Sorry for the formality. It’s the easiest way to schedule these things. Please, sit.”

You sit across from her, waving off the apology. “Not a problem. I was a little worried, so I’m glad it’s only lunch.”

“Why?” she asks. “Is everything alright in the BAU?”

“Oh, yes,” you laugh it off. Hotch just hates me, but not to worry, the feeling is mutual. “Just new job jitters, I suppose.”

“Ah, still adjusting?”

“You could say that,” you nod with another sheepish laugh.

“Well, you shouldn’t worry,” she says. “I hear your performance is exceptional, and you fit right in.”

You raise an eyebrow. Hotch told her that? “Oh,” you try not to show your shock. “Thank you, I’m…I’m glad to hear that.”

She smiles. “Aaron can be a little rough around the edges, but you’re doing fine. Don’t worry. Ah, there’s lunch.”

Sandwiches are brought in, leaving you no time to really process what she has just confirmed.

And he is never going to live it down.

The rest of your lunch meeting passes by easily. To your surprise, Strauss steers the conversation away from the BAU and toward how you’re settling in here in general.

“It was a big move, I heard,” she says. “I hope the area is treating you well?”

“It’s great,” you nod. “I do love it here.”

Of course, work topics come up, such as professionalism among the team and how those lines blur around some. She doesn’t linger here, though, so you think nothing of it.

“A new case will likely come tomorrow,” she says. “You’ll hardly ever be without one this long. Consider yourself lucky.”

You laugh at that, mostly to hide your scoff. You wouldn’t consider yourself lucky to be without a case because it only means Hotch’s focus is on you instead of catching a killer -- which is a much better use of his time. Safer for him, too. Because with every passing day you come closer to spilling hot coffee down his suit.

Kidding. Kind of.

“Mm! I do have one thing to ask you,” Strauss says suddenly.

You swallow your nerves and look at her expectantly.

“Richard Monroe,” she starts, and you feel your blood run cold. “He’s still cooperating in their investigation, however,” she pauses, lacing her fingers together. “He’s asked to speak with you.”

You blink. “With me?”

She nods. “You clearly made some impression on him. He’s apparently been asking for you for a few days, though they only just notified me this morning.” She pauses to sigh. “Do you have any idea what he might be after?”

You shake your head, dusting crumbs off your leg. “No idea.”

“Alright,” she accepts your answer far too easily. “Well, if there’s time, and if he keeps asking, I might ask you to go speak to him. Just to…keep the peace, I suppose. We can call it research for the BAU.” She waves her hand. “But it’s not at the top of my list.”

“Of course,” you nod slowly. “Just let me know.”

She smiles. “I’ve taken up enough of your lunch time, so I’ll let you get back to work.” She stands and you do as well, a rare moment where you’re itching to get back to the bullpen. “You’re going to do just fine here. You’re already exceeding expectations, so well done. Keep it up.”

“Thank you,” you return the smile, your chest expanding from the praise. It’s nice knowing your boss’s boss thinks you’re doing well, no matter how Hotch acts when you’re in the same room. Checkmate.

+++

Hotch scowls at the paperwork before him as he listens to your laughter filter up to his office. You returned from your meeting with Strauss in a frustratingly good mood and have been joking around with Morgan for half an hour.

Fed up, Hotch shoves his chair back to shut his door. Maybe he slams it. It doesn’t matter.

He hears the conversation come to a halt. Good. Maybe now they’ll get some work done for once.

He signs off on what he needs to, closing the folder and moving on to the next. And the next. And the next.

Before he knows it, he’s the second to last in the office again. Rossi knocks once on Hotch’s office door before he opens it, one hand holding his coat over his shoulder.

“Working late?” Rossi asks, striding in and settling down across from Hotch.

“Yes,” Hotch says, not looking up from the paperwork. He still has a mountain to get through, and maybe it could wait until tomorrow, but he needs to focus. On something that isn’t you.

“Want to get a drink?”

“No.”

“Alright. Any particular reason you’re so grouchy today?”

Hotch sighs, looking up at his friend and hoping his eyes convey the best I’m not in the mood look that he can.

He must succeed, because Rossi presses even more. “Doesn’t have anything to do with, say, a certain new agent who seemed to be in a great mood today for the first time in a week?” He pauses, musing. “Or maybe it’s the fact that said new agent didn’t say one word to you today?”

Hotch’s jaw tenses. It’s true. Neither of you spoke to the other today. Plenty of glares were shared, though, which is the same as words for you two.

Rossi leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Aaron. She’ll come to you if she needs help. If she wants help.”

No, she won’t, Aaron wants to say, but he can’t. Because what’s his reasoning? Something he doesn’t want to admit.

The facts are that Rossi doesn’t know you. Rossi wasn’t there when Hotch first met you on that case all those years ago. Rossi wasn’t there to watch you try to do everything yourself and nearly fistfight Hotch every time he tried to take one thing off your plate. Rossi wasn’t there to watch you nearly get yourself killed because you refused to ask for help. Rossi wasn’t there to see the panic that had crossed Hotch’s face when he saw your reckless behavior.

Rossi doesn’t know you. Not the way Hotch does.

Which is why after Rossi leaves, Hotch gathers his things, and stops to see Penelope on his way out of the office.

#The Gambit #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #angst angst angst

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27spoons · 3 days ago

Text

CRUSH | ACT ONE: DO I WANNA KNOW?

pairing: natalie scatorccio/fem!reader

summary: You're studying on a Friday. Natalie doesn't like that.

wc: 4200 (blaze it) (im not funny)

warnings: none. I think.

a/n: happy birthday 2 me. here is another chapter. lowkey i wasnt planning on have two chapters in a row with a ? in them but oh well yolo and all that fun stuff. anyways this chapter is basically just two losers yapping (next one will b longer promise)

ao3 / masterlist

PREVIOUS - ACT ONE: HOW CAN I MAKE IT OK?

NEXT - ACT TWO: (idk yet titles are hard) (WIP)

The thing about Natalie Scatorccio is that she always seems to find you when you least expect it. It’s like she has a sixth sense, some radar that tells her exactly when you’re trying not to think about her—and then she shows up, smirking like she knows all your secrets.

Today is no different. You’re sitting on the steps outside the library, flipping halfheartedly through a history textbook, when her shadow falls over you.

"Studying on a Friday, Princess?" She lets out a low whistle, "Now, that's tragic."

You roll your eyes and let a scoff fall from your lips, "Listen, not everyone can afford to just… throw caution to the wind or whatever. Some of us actually need to study."

Nat snorts as she fishes a cigarette out of her pocket, bringing it to her lips and lighting it, "I do study, just not on Fridays, like a nerd." She gives you a pointed glare, but it lacks any actual heat.

Without giving you a chance to object, she throws her duffle bag down on the steps next to you and sits down with a grunt. "Seriously, though." She ashes her cigarette, "Why're you sittin' alone out here, head in your…" She glances at the cover of your textbook, "history book when you could be doin' anything else?"

You shrug and close your textbook with a sigh, "I dunno. I guess it's just… the way things are, or whatever. Never really been the type of person who goes out on Fridays." Nat nods in understanding as she takes a slow drag from her cigarette, "Yeah, I get that. Nothin' wrong with that. But it gets boring after a while, yeah? Doin' the same thing every week, set in some constant routine?"

"I guess," You sigh and move to put your textbook into your backpack, "But don't you have routines? I mean, soccer and all that?"

"Yeah, I got some routine. Some days, I get up earlier than others to make it to practice. Some days, I spend some time after school kicking around a ball in the field. But that's not my point." Another drag of her smoke, "My point is that you can have some routine, but life is so fucking boring if that's all your life is." She rolls the end of the cigarette between her thumb and pointer finger for a few seconds before looking at you, squinting against the harsh light of the sun that beats down from behind you. "You gotta have something to shake it up every now and then, yeah? You don't gotta go to a party every week, but what's stoppin' you from goin' to one now and then?"

"It's just never been my scene, I guess. My friends and I don't really… do parties, you know? Like, we have small get-togethers or whatever, but we don't party. Never really seen myself as a party person, either." You shrug, zipping up your bag and moving it to rest on the step in front of you, "I dunno. I guess the…" You wave your hands around as you think of the proper words to use, "loud music and annoying people isn't exactly what I consider fun." A fond shake of your head and a gentle laugh, "But, hey, all the power to you if that's what you do find fun."

"You ever been invited to a party?" Nat chimes in after considering your statement for a few seconds.

You have to think about that question for a few seconds. "Yes." You finally manage, which earns you a skeptical look from the woman sitting next to you.

"Then why'd you have to think about it?"

"Oh my God." You roll your eyes, "Because it's been a while since I got invited to one, alright? Like I said, I don't hang out with the type of people that go to parties. So…"

Nat hums at that, seemingly accepting the answer you've given her. "Alright. So what do you do on Fridays? Or the weekend? Or whenever you aren't with your nose in some book." She gestures to your backpack and the textbook inside of it by extension. "Nothin' wrong with it, but you gotta do something else, yeah?"

A huff leaves your mouth before you can stop it, "Well, you've caught me sketching once or twice, yeah? I'm a pretty big fan of that. Uhhh…" You think for a few seconds, feeling like this is an awkward first date where the person is asking, "What do you do for fun?" and it takes everything in you not to give out the most generic answers possible. "I think I mentioned meteor showers to you before? I, uh, I like stargazing. And I guess I kinda play games sometimes? Although it's usually just… simulation games or whatever. The mindless stuff."

"Right." The girl smirks to herself as she muddles over your hobbies in her head. "Drawing, stargazing, and simulation games. Yeah, you, my friend, are a walking funfest, you know that?" One last drag from her cigarette before snuffing it out on the step, "That stuff is fun and all, but you need some more excitement in your life."

"What? Like… stealing BuzzBalls from corner stores?" A faint smirk tugs at your lips, "Or taking joyrides in stolen Maseratis?"

"First of all," Nat cuts you off before you can continue, "It was a Mazda. There's a huge difference. Second of all…" She hums and leans back, resting her elbows on the next step up.

She looks over you in a curious sort of way, appraising your form and being. "You could skate. Could convince Kev to teach you a thing or two at the skatepark, as long as you aren't gonna cry if you fall. If you play simulation games, you might not be half-bad at pool or darts. Hell, even thrifting or something. Refresh your wardrobe. I swear, every time I see you, you're basically wearing the same thing, just in different variants." Then, a sly grin. "But the fun stuff? Bet I could teach you to tag stuff without getting caught. You're already an artist; you should leave your mark on some places, yeah?" Her grin widens, "Maybe I could even convince you to bust into an old factory with me." A beat, "Unless… you're afraid of ghosts?" Then, she's laughing to herself.

You try to fight the grin on your face, but it's hard when you find her smile to be one of the most contagious things you've ever seen. "I'm not afraid of ghosts, thank you." A dramatic roll of your eyes earns another laugh from Nat, her smile wide and plastered on her face like she's having the time of her life. "But, also… I dunno. Maybe I could be convinced to try something new." "Maybe?" Nat parrots, still half-laughing. "Nah. I will convince you to "try something new"; you just haven't seen how convincing I can be yet." A self-satisfied grin replaces the smile she was wearing, and she leans in slightly, lowering her voice. "And I can be real convincing, Princess."

And… yep. You're blushing again. Nat, of course, notices this. Her grin gets ten times toothier, clearly satisfied with herself, and she leans back again. "But," She shrugs—as if she didn't just fluster the shit out of you with a single sentence. "That's for a later date."

Before you get a chance to respond to that, you catch sight of two girls wearing practice uniforms approaching—a simple grey shirt with the mascot's name on it and some shorts. You've seen them around before; it's a small town, after all.

Jackie Taylor—homecoming queen and captain of the girl's soccer team. Beside her, Shauna Shipman—who you… honestly don't know much about. You're pretty sure the two of them are best friends despite the fact that they seem like polar opposites.

Something something opposites attract, or whatever.

"Nat." Jackie stops in front of the two of you, regarding you with a half-assed smile for a fraction of a second before turning back to Nat, "You will be at practice today, right? You aren't gonna ditch again to do—"

"Yes, Jackie. I will fucking be at practice, alright?" Nat cuts her off with a scowl and a roll of her eyes. You swear she's gonna add something else but opts against it.

"Well… good." Jackie nods, then glances at you for much longer than she did initially, a curious expression on her face.

You don't have to guess why the expression is there, either. You aren't that dumb. You don't really look like the type of person Natalie Scatorccio hangs out with—not with your textbooks, sketchbooks, and meekness. No, you've seen the people she hangs out with. Misfits, mostly. There's that one goth kid, that guy with curly hair, and the redhead chick—who also plays on the soccer team with Nat. Then there are the… less than savoury characters. The people who she isn't seen around as much, but everyone knows she is around. Not hardened criminals per se, but people who are very, very rough around the edges. People who have longer rap sheets and far more "experience" being criminals than Natalie does.

Either way, Jackie doesn't comment on the stark difference between Natalie's usual crowd and you.

You give the team captain a tense smile as she looks at you, which she quickly returns before looking back at the girl sitting next to you, "We start in thirty."

"Yeah, I know, Princess." Natalie rolls her eyes, "I'm well aware what time practice starts, thank you."

"I was just trying to—" Jackie huffs and crosses her arms, "Whatever. Be there." Then she walks off, seemingly pouting, and Shauna gives Nat a shrug in apology before following.

Once the pair are out of earshot, Nat groans and pushes a hand through her bleached hair, "See, that's someone I call a princess in a derogatory manner."

You snort, "But it's not derogatory with me?"

"Nah." She shakes her head, "With you? It just… feels right. Dunno. Like that one chick we called "Crystal the Pistol" a few times. It's an affectionate nickname, or whatever." She waves a hand dismissively, "Not my point. Point is, when I say it to you, it's…" A beat of hesitation as she tries to find the right words, "Ugh. I don't know. I'm not good with words. Just know it's a good nickname, not a bad one."

"Right." Your eyes narrow slightly at that, but you don't push the topic further.

Which Nat seems grateful for, anyway. "Anyways. What the hell were we talking about?"

"Uhhhhh… hobbies, and how mine are, apparently, drastically boring?"

"Oh. Right." She nods, thinking about the previous conversation for a minute, then she gives a fond roll of her eyes and turns to you with a soft grin, "I mean… you said it. Not me. I just said you need some excitement. I'm not the one that goes stargazing for fun."

"Right. And most of your suggestions were…" You hum in mock thought, "Illegal, no?"

"'s only illegal if you get caught, actually." Nat shoots back, "And where's your sense of adventure, huh?" She nudges you with her elbow, "Gotta live a little, Princess. I know that BuzzBall was probably the first time you've ever… partaken in something illegal."

You roll your eyes and lean your back against the railing as you turn at the waist to face her, "Sorry, I don't willingly rob stores for fun in my free time. My bad."

You think you see Nat's jaw twitch at the comment, making you think you said the wrong thing, but before you can dwell on it too long or too hard, she lets out a hollow laugh. "Yeah, well, certified adrenaline junkie and all that. What can I say? Robbing stores gives me a rush." But the words come out slightly strained—like she's not telling you the whole story.

She clears her throat, clearly eager to move on from that particular line of conversation. "Whatever. Still. Like I said, I can… get Kev to teach you how to skate. Or… hell, you ever kicked a soccer ball around before?"

"In PE, yeah. But that's about it."

"Hmm." The blonde considers this, "You any good at it?" You snort, "Hardly varsity material, but I'm not, like, terrible at it or anything."

"Yeah? Well, maybe I can show you how to be junior varsity material. Shouldn't be that hard to play better than a few freshies, yeah? Maybe I'll even teach you some soccer tricks." She grins to herself, "Teach you the basics of freestyling soccer balls."

"Mm, promising a lot here, Nat. First, you're saying that you'll teach me to play good enough to beat some "freshies" in soccer, then telling me you'll teach me tricks?" You click your tongue, "How do I know you aren't gonna completely bail on me?" "Oh, make no mistake, I don't go back on my word. If I say I'm gonna do something, then you can bet your sweet ass I'm gonna do it, yeah?" A toothy grin, "And that's the Scatorccio guarantee."

You snort, "Yeah, you say that like your last name holds a lot of value when it comes to trust—"

The words are meant to be teasing, they come out in a teasing tone, but you still feel like a piece of shit the second they leave your mouth.

"I… I didn't mean it like that. Sorry. I wasn't thinking—"

"Nah, no," Nat shakes her head and waves her hands, "no. Don't worry about it. I'm not mad at you or anything." A grin, likely to ease your nerves, "You're not exactly wrong either. But I'm giving you my word anyway. Which… you should take."

"Hm." You take some mock consideration to that, "I will take it for now. But I make no promises for whether I keep it or not."

"Won't regret it." Her grin becomes slightly more genuine, "Promise."

You spend the next… ten, fifteen minutes? talking to Nat on the steps of the library, actually getting to know each other, rather than those single-minded adventures that the two of you have been on the past little while.

You trade off on the typical "first date" questions: Favourite food (Hers is apparently pizza, which you said was boring, then she rolled her eyes and dropped "Ribollita" and refused to actually tell you what that means.), fast food (Said "Taco Bell" immediately.) music (Matches her. Veruca Salt, Blondie, Nirvana, The Pixies… you get the idea. You asked her if she played the music on tape decks. She said yes. You don't know if she's joking or not.), books (She called you a nerd. Then proceeded to say, "The Anarchist Cookbook".), least favourite teacher (Mr. Miller, who teaches Auto Shop and keeps telling her repair work is sloppy.), and most importantly: the meaning of life ("ask me after I've had a tab or two"??).

After spending the past three minutes trying to convince her you don't get straight A's in every class, you decide just to show her your most recent in Physics and you… realise you left your binder in your locker.

"Crap." You sigh as you peer into your backpack, "I think I left my Science binder in my locker."

Nat snorts, "Didn't you open your bag earlier to put away your textbook? How didn't you notice it then?" "Because I wasn't thinking about it then." You sigh and close your bag, "I need to grab it from my locker. I don't—" "I'll come with you. Need to head to the locker room and change into practice gear." She cuts you off, pushes herself off the stairs, and, much to your surprise, actually waits for you before she starts walking. You try not to act surprised by this as you grab your backpack and throw it over your shoulders. When she does catch you acting surprised, because of course she does, she grins and rolls her eyes. "I said I was coming with you. Which means I am following you, and you aren't following me. Therefore, I have to wait for you. I still don't wait for people to follow me, Princess."

You can't fight the way your eyes roll and lips purse at that comment, "Right." Once you're standing, the pair of you head off in the direction of your locker.

"Dude, your locker is all the way in the old science hall? Who the fuck goes here anymore? There are zero classes near this place anymore. It must take five minutes to walk from class-to-fucking-class." She mutters, more to herself than you, and shakes her head as you two reach your destination. "Yeah, if I could have chosen my locker, it would be in the English hall. Right in the center of all my classes. I'm also pretty sure I'm the only person who has their locker in this hall." You sigh as you start to fiddle with the lock, "I've basically only seen the janitor up here. I don't know what I did to piss off whoever assigned lockers, but here I am." A sigh leaves your lips as the lock clicks open, "Admin won't even let me move lockers." Nat snorts and leans on the locker adjacent yours, "Yeah, sounds about right. They don't actually give a shit about the students here. I mean, for all the money going into athletics, you'd think they'd give us uniforms that don't chafe." An exasperated roll of her eyes, "So stupid."

"Sounds about right. Didn't the money go to the boy's baseball team or something?" She seems slightly surprised you know that but gives a nod of her head. "Uh, yeah. That's right. Which makes no sense considering we won states last year, and this year we actually have a good chance of—"

Her eyes zero in on the binder you're grabbing. "Holy shit. Is that colour-coded?" Her jaw drops in awe (or shock?), and she takes it from your hands, flipping it open. "H-o-l-y s-h-i-t. It is."

"I like having things organized by unit, whether it's a worksheet or notes!" You defend yourself, grabbing the binder back from her with a huff, "Sue me, okay!"

"Shit, I should." She lets out a low whistle, "Damn. All this for a…" She peers at the test you were going to show her, "B? Damn, Princess. That's unfortunate."

"You're making fun of me." You murmur petulantly, slamming the binder shut and shoving it into your backpack, "What's your GPA then, huh?"

Nat hums as she considers that answer, "Three point three."

"Wait." You turn to look at her, "Seriously?"

She laughs, "Yeah, seriously. I can't play soccer if I'm failing all my classes. Just because I don't show up to class doesn't mean I don't do the work for them." A roll of her eyes, like it was an obvious answer.

"Mm. And do you do the work for them, or do you pay some unsuspecting nerd—"

"What makes you think I have the money to pay anyone to do anything?" The girl cuts you off with a snort and crosses her arms, "Trust me, I do all my work myself."

"Hey, who said anything about money?" You grin at her, "You have… dubious tendencies. For all I know, you're paying them some other way." You offer a teasing shrug, "Like stolen BuzzBalls or…" A faux gasp, "Oh my God. Am I the unsuspecting nerd?" Nat scoffs once and looks away, "Yeah, right." Another scoff. Then another.

…wait. Is she blushing? Did you just fluster Natalie Scatorccio? On accident?

Between the way she won't meet your eyes, fiddles with the hem of her shirt, her usually pale cheeks now with the faintest hint of colour in them, and she swallows nervously? Wow. You think you did. How the tables…

You don't get too long to reflect on that before she's seemingly recovered and trying to act unaffected. "What if I am, nerd?" She leans into your personal space, "Maybe I'm looking for an unsuspecting nerd to do more than just my homework."

Now you're the flustered one. Again. "Uh—"

"I mean, think about it." She licks her lips, "The unsuspecting nerd and the resident burnout. Talk about opposites attracting. I could show you so much shit." A feral grin crosses her features, and your entire body heats up without your consent, "I could make you feel real—"

You take a step back, putting up both a metaphorical and physical space between you two. "Natalie. I don't—"

"Don't what? Oh, come on, Princess. Don't act like you haven't been thinking about it. I'm not dumb. I've seen the way you've been looking at me. Don't act like—"

You look visibly uncomfortable. Flustered, yes, but also uncomfortable. You're wringing your hands together in a subconscious act of anxiety, and whether that's because of her proximity or the situation, you aren't quite sure. Either way, Nat notices this.

You swear you see something like guilt flash behind her eyes once she realises she made you uncomfortable, but no outward attempt at an apology is made.

Natalie clears her throat and takes a small step back, the bravado dropping in an instant. "Whatever." She crosses her arms again, "Whatever. Let's just…" Her jaw tenses, and she shakes her head. "Nevermind."

There's some very tense air that passes between the both of you as you awkwardly close and lock your locker, neither of you bothering to glance at the other, letting the awkwardness fester.

It probably would have kept festering, too, had the sound of Natalie's phone vibrating not broken the silence.

"Goddammit, I swear to God if Jackie is—" Her mouth snaps shut as she looks down at her phone, and a slow grin finds its way onto her mouth. "Ooooh, fuck yes." She looks up at you, "Say, Princess, you doing anything tonight?"

"Uhhhh…" You shake your head, "No? I was just planning on staying at home and…" You shrug, "I dunno. Relaxing, or whatever."

"Mm. I have a better idea. You should come to a party tonight."

"Oh."

"Oh? That's it?" Nat rolls her eyes, "Come on. What was it I said about needing to get out of your comfort zone? A party is the perfect time and place to do it!" She shakes her head (and hands), "Look, it's a bonfire. If things go poorly, you can just… sit and stare at the fire and ignore everyone."

An unsure breath leaves your lips as you consider all the possibilities in your head. Of course, your mind heads to the worst-case scenario first, like a completely normal person would.

"Dude, seriously." She says, softer this time. "No pressure. It's just… a bonfire party… no, get-together, with some friends. That's it, yeah? Not like the entire town is gonna be there." She reiterates, throwing some emphasis on the fact it's "just a bonfire get-together," as if that will soothe all your nerves.

More hesitation on your part, but you can't deny the curiosity that seeds its way into your mind at the idea of seeing Nat in her element for once. "I… I don't know, Nat. It really isn't my scene—"

"It doesn't have to be your scene. It's just gonna be the place you spend a single Friday night. That's it. Don't ever gotta come to one again if you decide you hate it. Won't even bring it up again. Promise."

Even more hesitation. Even more curiosity you can't shove down and hide, for better or worse.

You don’t belong in the scene she frequents. Not really. But the way she grinned—like you were some project she couldn’t wait to take on—made you want to, even if it was just for one night.

"Come on. Drinks are free. Maybe they'll have more coolers you can try. Really dip your toes into the world of alcoholic beverages." She snickers.

Man, peer pressure does work, doesn't it?

You’re not a party person. But then again, Natalie Scatorccio isn’t just a person—she’s the reason you’re even considering it.

"I can't believe I'm gonna say this…" You shake your head and sigh, "But… fine. Fine. I'll… I'll go to this stupid party."

A wide grin crosses her face. Wide and very pleased with herself. "Perfect. Good choice. Best choice, really. Won't regret it, promise." She pushes herself off the locker beside yours, "I gotta get to practice. But I will… see you tonight, yeah?"

"Yeah. Yes." You sigh reluctantly, "I will… see you tonight, Nat."

"Hell yeah, you will. Maybe I'll even convince you to crack a beer or two. Smoke a cigarette. Real delinquent shit." She laughs at that as she begins walking off toward the gym, "See you tonight, Princess!" Nat calls from over her shoulder, "I'll text you the address!"

You watch her leave, blinking a few times in shock that she was able to convince you to go to a high school party so quickly.

"Well." You mumble to yourself, "Guess senior year isn't the worst time to go to your first party." You rub your forehead, mildly frustrated with yourself and your ability to say no, "Goddammit."

Well. Guess you have a party to prepare for, huh?

a/n: can i be so real with yall for a sec

every time i type in "natalie scatorccio" on pinterest i start feeling weird after the first few minutes cus I'm like "damn I'm fr just staring at photos of sophie thatcher rn" but I suppose it could be worse. could be staring at photos of (insert ugly celebrity name here)

#natalie scatorccio #nat scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x you #nat scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio x you #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets showtime #(brief)#shauna shipman #jackie taylor #spoons (fics/blurbs)#butter knives (sfw)#crush #from the cutlery drawer #taco bell was a heretic reference btw teehee

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osohchoso · 1 day ago

Text

Blood and Chains

Chapter Six- Bleeding Hearts

Choso x F!reader

Previous | Chapter Index | Next

Content: Multiple POV, trust issues, stalking, blood and violence, cursed techniques

You followed him in silence, the only sounds to be heard were the light drizzle of rain pitter-pattering on the sidewalk and the occasional car passing by. Each step you took with careful confidence, doing the best to minimize the sound of boots scuffing on the concrete. Slinking around in the shadows as you followed your boyfriend through the city streets. Losing track of how long has passed and just how far you have wandered from your apartment.

When Choso reached an alley, he stopped and looked around, maybe he had a feeling someone was tailing him, but you were out of sight. He hesitated, staring off in your direction for a second that felt like it lasted a year, before finally disappearing around the corner. Should I turn back? You question yourself over and over, frozen in place as you watch the darkness of the alley swallow him whole. But it's too late, your curiosity and fears have already pushed you this far. Might as well see this through to the end, or the anxieties in your mind will never forgive you. Staying a constant nagging fear, living in the back of your head. The only way to extinguish the dark storm plaguing your thoughts is to follow through with your personal mission. So you push on, entering the alleyway Choso walked down. The alley was even darker than the city streets. Not a single light to illuminate the path, no longer able to see the outline of his pigtails as you made your way through what you hoped was the correct way.

As you walk, you bump into something hard, hitting your hip on a sharp corner. Shit. His clunky shoes stopped in their tracks, he heard the clamoring of the large item you ran into. Pressing your palm to the side, feeling cold metal and something sticky and rotten smelling stuck to it. A dumpster, you ran straight into a dumpster. Standing in fear beside it, you could almost feel his piercing gaze scanning you, even in the dark. Heart beating wildly against your ribcage, holding your breath. This is bad, this is so bad. Closing your eyes tightly, you hope and pray to whatever higher being is out there, that he can't see you in the darkness.

His thick shoes take one step closer to you, but by some wicked twist of fate, you are saved. The lid of the dumpster shakes, and a raspy meow of a street cat echoes off the alley's brick walls. The click-clack of its untrimmed claws on the pavement grows quieter as it walks further away from you, toward the direction of Choso. He lets out a low chuckle, his clothing crinkling as he lowers himself to the ground.

“You scared me little one,” he whispers. The cat's loud purr fills the air. Even during your distrustful stalking, you can't help but smile. Finding it cute how your secretive boyfriend stopped to pet a stray cat on his late-night stroll. “Was it you following me all along?” He asks the cat. The cat responds with a loud meow, rubbing its head harder into Choso’s petting hand.

“Go home,” his voice brings you back to reality. A shiver runs down your spine that you try to suppress. You're not sure if he's talking to you or the cat at this point. Surely, he has no idea that you're there hiding beside the dumpster? Muscles tense, not daring to move an inch. You half expected him to say something more, to call your name out and question you. It isn't until you hear his footsteps pick up again, that you realize you're in the clear. The clunk of his shoes grows quieter as he makes his way through the alleyway. You wait until you can barely hear him before you make another move.

The cat turns and makes his way toward you, purring as it rubs around your ankles. Bending slightly, you scratch him under his chin. Feeling the greasy fur and flea bites, typical of an alley cat.

“Thanks,” you whisper, “I promise to come bring you treats, you saved my skin.” You tell the cat, who lets out a content meow in response like he understood every word you just said before he jumps back up on top of the dumpster.

This is so stupid. Hesitating before you follow him once again. Hearing Choso's words replay, go home. And you almost listened, almost turned your body toward the way you came and let your feet carry you back to the safety of your home.

But you didn’t.

You push forward through the alley and spot Choso on the other side. Walking on a beaten-up sidewalk that leads to a neighborhood. This time you are even more careful, creating a bigger distance between him as you follow. However, it seems he is more relaxed now, not constantly checking over his shoulder to see if he's being followed. Walking quicker than before. You wonder if he knows he's on the bad side of town, if that's why he's picking up pace. You were always careful to avoid this street, not wanting to get caught up in the violence you've seen on the news.

As you continue, you follow Choso through the neighborhood. Many of the houses look abandoned and worn down. Which confuses you, why is he here? What could be so important about this place that he had to abruptly leave you? You continue to follow, a few of the homes you pass do have lights on, signs of life inside. Though even the lived-in houses look just as bad as the abandoned ones.

He finally stops, pausing in the front yard of a large house, lights on inside but the tattered curtains are drawn. Whose house is this? You crouch down behind an overgrown bush at the edge of the yard as you watch him stand there. Blood roaring in your ears as you jump to conclusions. He’s cheating, he's just like the other men. Hot tears prick your eyes as you wait to see the woman he left your home for.

“Hey!” Choso’s head turns to the sound of the voice and you follow his line of sight. Instead of seeing a pretty woman, you see the cheerful pink-haired boy.

Yuji.

And now you have even more questions than before.

Yuji approaches his older brother, too far away for you to hear their conversation. You know Choso well enough by now that you can read his body language, his shoulders slightly slumped, his weight shifting back and forth between his feet. He's irritated. If it's directed at his brother or something else, you have no clue. You can hear the loud sigh leave Choso’s lips from your hiding place. The two boys then turn and enter the home, leaving the door wide open. As you watch them disappear into the house, guilt immediately floods you. Guilt for not trusting him, for thinking he would cheat. Still not sure what he's up to with Yuji, but you are now certain it's nothing concerning you. Maybe he really was on a last-minute call for his work.

You should have turned and left the second you saw them turn their backs, but you still had more questions. And maybe, if you stayed and observed just a bit longer, maybe there would be answers.

So you stayed, watching from the bush as you heard them run around inside the house. Incoherent shouting. The curtains hanging in the windows blowing as they run past. A splatter of blood decorates the downstairs window like a Jackson Pollock painting. Maybe your theory about Choso being an assassin wasn't so far off after all. Though it's hard to believe, golden retriever boy Yuji is also caught up in this line of work. Another thick splotch of blood hits the glass, causing you to flinch. I shouldn't be here. The danger of the situation really starts to sink in.

Rising to your feet quickly, you give the house one last look. Not wanting to stick around and see the faces of the victims inside. Or to see the look on Choso’s face when he realizes you followed him all the way here.

Too late for that.

Choso stands in the doorway, his eyes on you. Shouting your name as he begins to run out of the house in your direction. His voice loud enough to shake the earth you stand on, but not out of anger. Out of fear. From the corner of your eye you see a hunch-backed humanoid figure rushing toward you on long legs. It's moving at incredible speed, Yuji running behind it as he reaches forward. His fingers trying to grasp purchase on its wrinkly pale skin. Yet the creature remains faster as it barrels toward you. Yuji’s eyes wide with terror while the three eyes of the creature twinkle with blood lust.

Everything happens in slow motion, your blood roaring in your ears as you stand still. A deer caught in headlights. Unable to do anything but watch. Watch as the terrifying monster runs at you, its arms shaped like curved blades. Watch as Yuji tries and fails to reach for it again and again. Watch as Choso cries out your name, sounding as fearful as you feel. You look down at your feet, trying to send a signal to move. Knees daring to buckle beneath you when all you want to do is run away.

A sharp press to your back, a pain like you've never felt. Still looking down, you can't seem to tear your eyes away as you watch a deep hole open up in your abdomen. The blade cut straight through to the other side, accompanied by unbearable pain. The once pale green skin of the creature now a deep crimson from your blood. Red drops pool on the flattened grass below your feet. The sounds of the world cut out, muffled and numb. Like your ears are underwater. You lift your gaze up and find Choso, his face paler than ever before and his face tattoo almost looks distorted and sharper, crossing over his eyes as he glares at the creature with unmatched anger. The last thing you see is him standing across the yard, his palms pressed together as his mouth moves. Your heavy eyelids flutter shut as the head of the creature explodes, painting your hair in warm blood. The blade arm exits your body and you feel Yuji catch you before you collapse to the ground.

“Choso…I’m sorry” you manage to weakly get out before completely losing consciousness.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　Choso's POV　 . ✦　　 . ★⋆.

~A few minutes before~

Choso looks down at the purple skin of the transfigured human as it stills on the ground, blood leaking from the fatal wound he gave it. The call was right. Mahito had been here. This poor family had enjoyed their last dinner together before the curse waltzed in and transformed them all. Choso sighs as he checks the time. He was thankful for Yuji meeting him here. The faster the brothers took care of the two curses, the faster he could get back to his girlfriend. He really wanted to send Yuji on his own and stay home with her, but the risk that Mahito could still be around scared him far too much to ditch him. Yuji runs down the stairs toward him, his shoes hitting each step loudly.

“Finished yours off?” Choso asks. Yuji nods, though there is a touch of sadness. No matter how many times he does it, having to end the transfigured humans always seems to break a piece of him.

“Yup. Was kinda a small one, so it wasn't much trouble.” He claims. Yuji bends down to pick up a family portrait that fell from the wall, his thumb smearing the blood across the glass to reveal the picture underneath. It shows three of them. Mother, father and a young girl.

“Choso…” Yuji trails off, eyes wide. Choso takes a step closer as Yuji turns to him. “I think there is a third-” Yuji can't even finish his sentence before a tall pale green figure runs out the back door. Yuji instantly drops the frame, glass shattering as it hits the floor, and chases after it. Choso lets out an exaggerated sigh as he walks toward the front door. He’s confident Yuji will finish it off, but just in case, he wants to prepare for backup. Just one more and he can return home to you.

You, who should be back safely at home, snuggled into your blankets as you await his return. You, whose beautiful eyes stare at him across the yard as you stand from behind a bush. Choso blinks. Once. Twice. Hoping you would disappear like a figment of his imagination. Three times, and you're still here. He can’t imagine why or even how you knew where he was. Did you follow him? Do you not trust him? He should be angry, but he's not. Not when he knows the weight of the situation you're now involved in. He’s absolutely terrified.

From his peripherals, he sees Yuji chasing after the transfigured human, running straight toward you. His worst nightmare, this is why Choso swore off relationships. He didn’t want you hurt because of him and his dangerous lifestyle. He shouts your name, as loud as possible. Hoping that will activate your fight or flight, hoping you pick the latter and you can run faster than you did the day he found you in Shibuya. Yet you don't move, still as a statue.

He cries your name over and over, desperate for you to move as he quickens his pace toward you. Vocal cords straining as he tries to reach your thoughts hidden away in the unmoving husk of your body. Yuji is gaining on it but this transfigured human has longer legs, moving at a slightly faster speed. It's going to be close, unable to tell if Yuji will reach it first or if it will reach you first. Choso is rushing forward, but the wet sound of the blade stabbing through the left side of your stomach makes him pause. Time froze as he stared at you, the gaping wound and the creature's sharp arm stuck through it. This is worse than a nightmare, this is a living hell.

No…no no no no no! This can't be happening, this isn't real! His breath is caught in his throat. Narrowing his eyes at your attacker, he sees red. He hasn't felt this angry in a long time. Clapping his palms together, fingers pointed at the head of the transfigured human, gathering all his strength.

“Piercing Blood!” He releases the condensed beam of blood, shooting straight through the middle eye of the creature. It’s head explodes on impact, coating the back of your hair in thick, sticky blood. Yuji pulls the transfigured human away and catches you in his hands, gently lowering your body to the already red-stained grass. Choso hurries forward, falling to his knees before you.

“Choso…I’m sorry” He barely hears the words leave your dry cracked lips.

“This can't be happening…this isn't happening” he mutters to himself, picking up one of your hands and holding it in his. “Yuji, tell me this isn't real,” he lifts his gaze to his brothers, tears already streaming down his cheek. Yuji frowns, dropping his gaze to the serious wound.

“It is, Choso.” He can't lie to his brother, not when you're bleeding out right here in front of both of them. “I’ll call Shoko, she should be able to save her.” Yuji says, gently adjusting you so your head lays on Choso’s lap. Then standing, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and dialing Shoko, pacing in the yard a few feet from Choso.

Choso is holding your hand tightly, trying to get you to wake up and say something, anything. He doesn't understand why you are here, why you were apologizing. But he doesn't care. He just wants you back, alive and safe. Seeing your smile, hearing your laugh. He needs you back.

“Wake up, little flower.” He whispers, bending to place a soft kiss on your brow. “Please…please…wake up, stay with me. I ca-can’t lose you,” his voice cracking as he pleads for you. Tears rain on your cheeks as he watches your lifeless expression.

Your hand grows cold in his blazing hot palm, fading further and further. No, no. Not again. Please not again. Choso looks over at Yuji who is still talking to Shoko.

“We are losing her!” Choso cries out.

“Shoko is on her way” Yuji does his best to stay calm, not wanting to heighten Choso’s anxieties further.

“There is no time, she is losing too much blood!” He’s yelling back at him, there is no calming him as he eyes the deep wound in your stomach. Blood oozing out. “She…she’s not going to make it.” Choso swallows hard.

“She will, Shoko is hurrying. She will be here soon I promise,” Yuji assures him, even though he isn't certain. He truly doesn't know if you are going to be fine. But Choso panicking more isn't helping anyone. “Hmm? Yeah, I'm still here.” Yuji continues pacing as he talks to Shoko, giving directions to their location. Choso looks down at you, watching each shallow and labored breath, seeing the last signs of life drain from your face.

There has to be something I can do. He tries to think of an idea, he knows you won't last another five minutes unless he can do something. He racks his brain trying to formulate a plan, willing to try anything if it means he won't have to watch you exhale your last breath in his arms.

Then, he forms an idea. Maybe a stupid one. Maybe one that won't work. Honestly, it might get you killed or worse. The risks are high, with maybe a 1% chance your body will respond positively. Choso doesn't care, he would take any risk if it meant he doesn't lose you today.

He glances over at Yuji, his back turned to the both of you. He doesn't bother asking his brother for his opinion on this plan because he already knows what Yuji would say. No.

But you need blood, now.

Choso grips one of your hands tightly with his, holding the other hand up, palm to the starry sky. Gathering his blood into a small sphere in the center of his palm. Taking a shaky breath before he begins.

He's never attempted using his blood manipulation for a blood transfusion before, and certainly never even considered doing this on a regular human. His blood is considered poisonous, and if this doesn't work he may be the reason you end up dying. Desperate for any chance at life, even a slim chance that the toxin won't instantly kill you, he takes the risk. If he can give you just enough until help arrives, just enough to replace what is necessary, you may survive. Afterward, Shoko can probably just give you something to counteract the negative effects. He doesn't think too much about the consequences of his cursed blood and won't allow him to think about what it might do to you.

He places his palm with the sphere of blood to the hole in your stomach. Letting his blood mix with your own. Flowing freely through your body, traveling to every limb and organ. Filling you with life, his life. He would give his whole life for you if he could, if he knew it would keep you breathing. Wouldn't even hesitate to sacrifice himself for you. He closes his eyes as he takes control, his blood pushing alongside yours. Mixing inside you like a cauldron creating a potion of endless love. His other hand, the one clutching yours like a lifeline, starts to feel a hint of warmth radiating from you again. A sign you have been granted at least a few more minutes of life, hopefully, that's enough until a real doctor can stabilize you.

“Choso?” Yuji’s shocked voice cuts into his thoughts, causing him to flash open his eyes. Twisting his head to look over at his brother, whose eyes are wide with horror. Mouth agape as he witnesses the act.

“What have you done?” Yuji asks him.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Taglist: @lavenderdaydream97 @angel04-01

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broidobe · 1 day ago

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𝔫𝔬 𝔣𝔢𝔲𝔡𝔰

requested! happy new year and thank you for your sweet words!

☾while opening for guns n' roses and metallica on tour, you, the guitarist for nirvana, catch axl rose’s attention, sparking an unexpected connection☽

☾warnings: mention of alcohol, flirtation☽

⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist

the energy backstage was electric, the buzz of the crowd outside carrying through the walls like a pulse. you adjusted your guitar strap and took a deep breath, stealing a glance at kurt and krist as they tuned up for your opening set. nirvana playing a massive tour alongside metallica and guns n’ roses—it was surreal, even if it felt a little ironic.

“you ready?” kurt asked, his voice calm as always, though his eyes betrayed the same excitement thrumming in your veins.

“always,” you replied with a grin, running your fingers over the strings.

the set was incredible, the audience roaring with every chord, every word. the stage lights felt like home, and for that short while, nothing else existed but the music and the collective energy of thousands of fans.

once the set ended, the four of you stumbled backstage, drenched in sweat but grinning ear to ear. dave and krist immediately made a beeline for catering, and kurt slouched into a chair, guitar still in hand. you grabbed a bottle of water and leaned against the wall, letting the coolness seep into your back.

“great set,” a low voice drawled behind you.

you turned to find axl rose standing there, arms crossed and a smirk playing on his lips. he was dressed in his signature mix of leather and bandanas, his red hair falling over his shoulders. you’d seen him around before, of course, but this was the first time he’d actually spoken to you.

“thanks,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “you’re up next, right?”

“yeah,” he said, stepping closer. “you guys killed it out there. didn’t expect nirvana to open for us, but... it works.”

“didn’t expect guns n’ roses to share a stage with nirvana either,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “but hey, no feuds, no problem.”

he chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “fair enough.”

you studied him for a moment, the way his green eyes seemed to linger just a little longer than necessary, the way his smirk softened when he looked at you. there was something magnetic about him, something that made the chaos of the tour fade into the background.

“so, what’s it like?” he asked suddenly.

“what’s what like?”

“being on this tour, playing these massive crowds.”

“it’s... surreal,” you admitted. “kind of a dream, kind of a blur. what about you? you’re used to this, right?”

“doesn’t mean it’s any less crazy,” he said, his voice dropping just slightly. “but it’s worth it.”

for a moment, neither of you said anything, the noise of the backstage world fading into the distance. you could feel the spark, the unspoken tension between you. it was thrilling and a little terrifying.

“well,” he said finally, stepping back but keeping his eyes on you. “guess I better get ready to blow their minds.”

“good luck out there,” you said, your lips curving into a small smile.

“don’t need it,” he replied, his smirk returning. “but thanks, anyway.”

as he turned to walk away, you couldn’t help but watch, your heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the music or the adrenaline of the show.

something about this tour was different, and you had a feeling axl rose was going to be a big part of it.

#broidobe #guns and roses #axl rose #axl rose x reader #axl gnr #axl rose gnr #guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic

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quietwingsinthesky · 2 days ago

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“So, who were they?” you ask.

“Old friends,” he answers curtly, and you have learned the difference between scars he loves to boast about and which ones still ache even under your touch. You press a hot rag to the shoulder of his sword-arm.

“I didn’t think you knew how to make friends,” you say over the relieved sigh he lets out. His head swings low, hair caught along the damp edge of the rag sticking to his skin before you remove it to feel the muscle underneath. “Let alone six.” You can’t tell yet if the tension is leftover vigilance he can’t let go of after a fight or his body locking up in protest of its sudden, harsh use. It’s your job to keep either from hurting him more.

“You’re very cruel to an old man,” he says as you spread one hand flat across his upper spine and survey his shoulder with the other. He can feel every press of your fingers there, unlike his other shoulder, which is more burns and scar tissue than skin down to where it ends at his elbow. “Especially one who feeds you”—You snort.—“and lets you live in his home without charge and-” The light teasing cuts of abruptly as you probe around the underside of his arm and over his bruised ribs. He jerks away from your touch with no more than a hiss, but that’s louder than a scream from any other companion of yours.

“If you’ve injured one of your ribs and didn’t tell me again-” You fly through your memory of the fight, but it’s hard. (You have to first square the image of him grouching at you to bring his dinner to where he’s sat rather than pick it up himself and that of him cutting off a man’s hand so fast, he was already disarming the next opponent before it had hit the ground.) It shouldn’t be more than bruising; you’re sure he only took a glancing tackle on that side from one of the smaller men-

“No,” he promises. His voice doesn’t shake, but you have the feeling it would have if he hadn’t taken those few extra seconds to respond. “I can breathe without it hurting too badly. I’m alright.” Your hand hovers over the purpling skin. He leans back into the one you’ve left on his spine. “I wasn’t expecting the pain. You usually warn me.” You blink.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “Can I continue now?”

“Do you have to?” That’s a grumble, not a plea to stop, and you smile.

“Make me go sleep out in the stable about it.” You are gentle when you probe the rest of the bruise. It’s not that you don’t trust his judgment of his own body, but you work best with what you have known under your own hands.

And he wouldn’t have asked for you, specifically, if he didn’t want someone who would touch him.

“And then if I fall out of bed in the middle of the night, you’ll pretend you can’t hear me yelling over the horses.” You raise your hand again to his shoulder, pressing your palm into the stressed muscle. He grunts very softly. You would normally start this routine lower, massage his legs first and work your way up, but you judge this area to need your attention now. You press and push with your thumbs, familiar with each band of muscle and each old bone. You know where to rub harder, so deep that anyone else would be in pain. It used to leave your wrists aching when you first met him. You know even better where to tread lightly. He’s told you how it feels to crack a shoulderblade against hard stone, and it’s something you hope you never experience.

You listen to him breathe. It’s low and deep, steadying with each passing moment. His arm hangs limp at his side.

You think, briefly, of rubbing your thumb over the back of his neck, where a noose once left indents on his skin that he’s never escaped, and so you do. He sighs again, and you go back to his shoulder.

“You may not be safe here for much longer,” he says, very quietly. You raise your gaze from the dip between shoulderblade and spine and move closer, drawing your legs up onto the bed to sit behind him. You drop your chin onto his shoulder. He doesn’t turn his head to acknowledge that or the way you idly run a hand up the side of his chest. Another scar—this one is triumphant, and he relaxes when you touch it, like the barest stroke of your fingers releases those good memories. You draw them up towards you, over his missing nipple and to the outline of his clavicle. “I have more old friends than you can imagine, and if they know where I am…”

You let the warning linger. You know he believes you should listen and leave. You know he wishes that you won’t.

“Well, they’ll have to eat dinner somewhere else,” you say. “I’m not cooking for more than the two of us.”

He lets out a breath, and then he tilts his head to you.

The pressure of his skull against yours lets your eyes drift shut, savoring the contact.

You are nearly nestled into the crook of his neck. You think that if you wriggled a little, you’d hear his heartbeat against your ear.

“Speaking of dinner,” he says. Your eyes reluctantly peel open. “You should get started if we’re going to eat before the sun sets.” You huff and lean back, hands braced against his shoulder for a cursory check. He’s far less tense. Tomorrow will be another story, but you’ll draw him a hot bath and see what relief that brings to his strained muscles.

“I wouldn’t want to waste your precious reading candles on lighting our dinner table.” You’re going to put too much honey in his evening tea for that, and he’s going to complain that you’ve made it too sweet and give it to you so it isn’t wasted. You smirk.

“My eyes are going,” he complains, shooing you over his shoulder. “Let me enjoy them while they’re still here.”

i love when characters age out of their original role so much. you used to be the strongest warrior in the land, and yes, you probably still could beat the shit out of anyone who fucks with you because it’s not like all that skill went anywhere. but you ARE going to need a heatpack for every muscle in your body afterwards and complain about how much easier it used to be the whole time.

#something like that. you know?#fanfiction

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xen-xiv · 5 days ago

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Xen XIII

Xen recounts their time spent on Redna's fishing ship after the Seventh Umbral Calamity.

This is the first fic of Xen I've written. It effectively just functions as her backstory. This takes place between the end of 1.0 and the start of 2.0, but does make use of lore from later expansions. There's no explicit spoilers but some things probably won't make sense if you haven't finished Shadowbringers.

Features @frogliftcertified's OC Nova, and @goblin-gal-pal's OCs Ariah and Ella (though their names aren't said)

My name is Xen, Thirteenth of my line. And this is the end of my story.

It was all a blur at first. Darkness. A battle. A meteor falling from the sky. A huge winged beast bursting from within it, raining destruction all around. And a sad cat watching the lights from a ship far away.

.....

My head was pounding. My chest felt heavy. The whole world felt like it was moving around me. Rocking back and forth. It actually was.

I was on a ship. In bed in what looked like the captain's quarters. I stood up from the bed and nearly fell back into it. It was a struggle to stand, my body wasn't moving like my mind thought it should.

I managed to get myself to a window on the back wall. We were out at sea, I could see the open ocean behind us. And I saw that sad cat in the window staring back at me. She looked just as confused as I felt. She was me. It was clearly my reflection but-

The door opened behind me. "Oh good, you're up. You gave us a scare, kid." It was an older tall cat woman. She gave me a brief smile before walking over to her desk. I asked where I was and she looked back with an eyebrow raised. "You're in my quarters. You've been out a couple days. Hit your head hard when that big wave rocked the boat. So I gave you a more comfortable bed to rest in. You're welcome, Rahks." She smirked and began to search through a drawer.

Rahks? That wasn't my name. I corrected the captain, and she gave me another confused look. "What do you- Oh! You picked a new one already, eh?" A warm smile. "I like it, Xen. Got a new surname too?"

That just confused me more. I asked Captain Kairisch what she meant by-

How did I know her name?

A sharp pain in my head. Unfamiliar memories flooded into my mind. Home. Family. The forest. That terrifying first hunt. Running away. The professor. Learning magic. Then the moon began to fall. War. A request for help. Fear. Running away again. The captain.

When I came to the captain's hand was on my shoulder, she'd caught me before I fell and helped me back to the bed. "Easy, Xen. I'll get you somethin' to eat. Just get some more rest for now." The hrothgar woman gave another smile before heading out the door.

I laid back down and collected my thoughts. Things made more sense now. I remembered I was on the Liljefisker, captained by Redna Kairisch. A fishing vessel that had docked at Limsa Lominsa. I remembered signing up. Thiking that I couldn't stay in Eorzea, not while the red moon was hanging in the sky like that. A week after we set off it fell. I remembered seeing the lights even from out that far. Someone shouted that a big wave was coming, and then I blacked out.

I went over it all in my head a few times. It felt off at first, but the memories eventually settled back in. But where did my name come from? Redna was right, I remembered having the name Rahks before. I remembered wanting a new one but not having any ideas yet. But since waking up my name being Xen is the thing I was the most sure of.

Redna came back with a hot meal. She told me the chef and some other crewmates who were around were all fans of my new name. I decided not to worry about where it came from.

We were still about a week away from the next port. It was Garlean territory, but the captain was sure we could find out what happened back in Eorzea once we were there.

I finished my meal, and Redna got me a change of clothes, and we went out on deck. I remembered not talking with the rest of the crew much since we set sail, but they were all happy to see me up and about again. Captain Kairisch insisted I take it easy for the day, and offered to let me take her bed again that night, but after food and time for my head to settle I was feeling better.

I slept in my bunk that night. I remembered sleeping there before but it still felt unfamiliar. It had been a strange day, I tried not to worry about it.

My dream almost felt more real than anything else.

Things were back to business as usual for the next week. There was some unease about Eorzea's fate (though some said the mood was improved with me awake again) and the crew talked about what could've possibly happened with Dalamud.

The captain recruited from all over. Two others, both refugees from Ala Mhigo, had signed on at the same time as me in Limsa. There was a former Ishgardian temple knight who joined the last time Redna stopped in Eorzea. Folks from Doma, Dalmasca, Thavnair, even someone from the New World was on board.

I quickly realized I was the youngest one on the ship. They all certainly treated me like a child. I wanted to argue against this, but I remembered having not even seen twenty summers, so I saw their point.

Eventually we made it into port, and we learned the news. The elder primal that was inside the red moon, and how it razed the land. They were calling it the Seventh Umbral Calamity.

The Garleans suffered heavy casualties, and while there wasn't concrete news it seemed the Eorzean Alliance didn't fare any better.

I remembered some people who would have been fighting with the Alliance. I didn't feel like I knew them, but I hoped they were okay.

We sold off our catches, stocked up on supplies, and after a couple days we set off again.

Things continued like this. We'd spend a few moons out at sea, catching what we could, then we'd pull back into the nearest port to sell and stock up.

Out at sea we'd sing shanties, and at night everyone shared stories. Stories of what they'd done before joining up with Redna. Obrelle the former temple knight told us of the time she fought dragons alongside the Azure Dragoon.

Redna's stories were some of the most exciting to hear. She talked about her time as a pirate in the Far East, under the flag of Captain Kairi Kuroyuri, the Black Lily.

They asked me to tell stories of my own. I was hesitant. The memories still felt unfamiliar, and there wasn't much to tell, but they insisted. So I told them about what I remembered from my time at the school, learning magic from Professor Nova Dubois.

I remembered coming to Ul'dah after leaving home. I heard rumors there about a Gyr Abanian mage whose body had been transformed. I remembered following after these rumors and finding Nova. She taught classes on thaumaturgy and I somehow found myself attending them.

I remembered when I was finally able to ask her about the rumors. She explained that it had been an accident while she was working with some experimental alchemy. I remembered her telling me that the mixture needed more work to be complete, but she couldn't exactly test it on herself more.

I remembered thinking that she looked beautiful and comfortable with herself. I remembered wanting to feel that way too. So I offered to be a test subject to help her perfect the potion.

I told stories of what I remembered of the years that followed. I remembered the time in Nova's classes, doing my best to keep up. I remembered the time I misfired a blizzard spell and froze Nova's dessert in a block of ice before she'd taken a single bite. I remembered continuing to test the potion. My body changing and finally feeling comfortable in it.

I remembered Dalamud starting to fall. How Professor Dubois told me she was going to join up with the Eorzean Alliance to fight againt the empire to stop it. She asked me to come with her. I remembered wanting to help. But that would mean fighting. Lots of it. I remembered being terrified. I remembered her telling me to take time to think before answering her. I remembered leaving Ul'Dah the next day without saying anything.

Some of the crewmates wanted to see my magic. I hadn't been practicing at all, but a simple thunder spell would be easy enough. But when I tried to cast it nothing happened. I didn't understand. I remembered Nova's lessons. I could do the movements off of muscle memory. But it's like something else was missing. I couldn't get my aether to react like it should. The crew told me not to worry, and to keep at it to show them another day.

Most days were peaceful. But there was still occasional danger. Every so often rather than fish someone would pull up a monster from the sea. Redna was quick to handle any I caught, and the rest of the crew always kept weapons close.

Time passed, and we told more stories. Naapyonye, the shetona from the New World, told us a story about the time he saw the Dawnservant himself fighting a terrible beast. He called it a Vidraal, some of the strongest beasts you could find in Tural.

Redna told us more about her time with the Black Lily. Of fights, sacking pleasure cruises full of rich folks coming from Kugane, of engaging with Garlean ships, doing whatever they could to sink them.

I'd told all the stories I remembered of my time learning magic, so I looked further back.

I remembered my time living with my family in the Black Shroud. My mother and three older brothers. I remembered coming out to them. My mother helping me pick a new name. I remembered her being excited to finally have a daughter that could take over as matriach. I remembered that she never asked if that was what I wanted to do.

I remembered her teaching me to fight, using two swords. A style that my great grandfather had brought with him from the New World, and taught to his children and their children.

I remembered watching my brothers leave, one by one, to see the world. I remembered wishing I could've gone with them.

I remembered the first time my mother took me on a hunt. I'd barely seen sixteen summers, but she was sure I was ready. I remembered us finding a wild boar. It was big, but she insisted. I remembered drawing my swords and running at it.

I remembered it being over in an instant. The boar's cry, the smell of blood.

I remembered looking down at the boar's bloody corpse. Thinking that it was just a wild animal trying to live its life. I remembered my mother praising me, saying that with power like that I could destroy anything in my way.

I remembered running away from home the next day.

Naapyonye spoke up again after I told my story. He mentioned that the Dawnservant fought with the Viper style, which sounded just like what I remembered my mother teaching me. He told me it was created to fight dangerous threats like a Vidraal, and using it for hunting normal wild animals was overkill.

I hadn't remembered my mother ever telling me anything like that.

One day, almost a year and a half after the calamity, we saw another ship coming towards us. The captain could tell at a glance that they were pirates. While the rest of the crew prepared for a fight, Redna had me hide below deck. We were clearly a fishing vessel, so they weren't likely to fire on us, but they'd certainly try to board and take whatever we had.

Crouched behind some crates, I could head muffled conversation from above as they tried to negotiate. Sounds of fighting broke out quickly. I wanted to help, but remembering my fear of fighting kept me in place.

I heard someone coming down below deck, and peeked out to see. A hyur I didn't recognize. One of the pirates must've snuck under during the chaos. He hadn't noticed me, I could probably stay hidden until Redna or someone else came down.

I saw blood on his dagger.

All those memories of being afraid of fighting had never felt less like my own.

I stood up.

Once the pirates had all been routed, Redna came down to check on me. She found the hyur man out cold on the ground, laying next to his teeth. And me standing over him. Cut and bruised, muscles sore, knuckles bloody. But still alive.

The crewmate he'd attacked turned out to be Obrelle. She was keeping pirates away from the stairs down and he'd snuck up and stabbed her in the back. It looked like nothing vital was hit, and she'd be up again after a couple weeks of rest.

I was still sore for most of that time. A cut I'd taken across the bridge of my nose seemed like it was going to become a scar, and everyone told me to be proud of it. A trophy of battle.

Once we made it into port we turned the pirate over to the local authorities before getting to usual business.

Before we left Captain Kairisch asked me to come into her quarters. She had a gift for me. A pair of quality knives. Light, and easy to use. She offered to teach me how to use them, a fighting style she learned when she lived in Doma. I accepted.

A few moons later, the next time I hooked a monster, I was able to take it down myself, to cheers from the entire crew.

Time kept passing, and more stories were told. Avaldr and Borgar the Ala Mhigans told us about fighting in the rebellion against the Mad King. And then fighting the empire after.

Redna told us more about Kairi Kuroyuri. How they met in Doma. How Redna fell for her. How the two of them were married out on the open sea.

I was almost out of stories that I remembered. There was one left. I told them what I remembered about the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.

I remembered it was after I left Ul'Dah, and Nova. I'd come to Limsa Lominsa to look for a ship leaving Eorzea. As I wandered the city I heard someone singing. I remembered following the melody to its source. And then I saw her. I remembered she was an Au Ra with black scales. She had shining purple eyes, green skin that looked so soft, and an absolutely beautiful smile.

I remembered overhearing her talk with a hrothgar woman. They were adventurers, and they talked of their time seeing the world on their way to Eorzea.

I remembered thinking how exciting that sounded. How traveling as an adventurer sounded fun. How nice it would be to spend time with her, get to know her.

I remembered hearing them mention Carteneau. That they would fight against the empire to protect Eorzea.

I remembered deciding not to try talking to her. Wandering Limsa more before running into Captain Kairisch.

I tried casting magic again a few times over the years, but could never get it to work. Eventually I decided not to worry about it. I could handle myself fine with the knives and Renda's lessons.

We only had two other run-ins with pirates. The captain of the first crew recognized the feared Redna Akairi, and left peacefully. The second crew weren't so lucky, and we fought. I tried my best to keep the fear I remembered down in my heart, and fought them off bravely with the rest of the crew.

The crew told more stories. Most everyone had dealt with the empire in some way. Fighting in rebellions or just living under imperial rule.

Redna told us about her last night with Kairi. Garlemald was coming to Doma, and her wife couldn't stand by and not help. Redna offered to join, but Kairi refused her. Said that Redna's life was meant to be out at sea. She never saw Kairi again.

I didn't have any stories left. I'd told everything I remembered of my life. The captain told me I could tell the same stories again. Or I could even just make something up. A story's a story whether it's real or not.

I decided to tell them the story from my dreams.

I dreamt of another world. Of being a different person entirely. A hyur with red hair. A hero who fought with their comrades against the darkness.

Horrible monsters threatened the land, created by villains from the shadows. But the hero and their comrades fought them endlessly. They could take the fallen monster's strength and turn it back against the fiends.

I didn't know the ending. Had never dreamt of one. But the crew loved the stories regardless.

Four years had passed since the calamity. My time on the Liljefisker may not have been what I remembered expecting, but it was a great time nonetheless.

One day we found ourselves in a vicious storm. It took everything to keep us afloat, we were thrown far off course. Even after the skies calmed we were stuck in a thick fog.

As Redna tried to get our bearings, someone called out that they had seen what looked like a lighthouse's beacon in the distance. A couple other crew members saw it too, but the rest of us didn't. Redna said it was all we had to work with, so we sailed in its direction.

After an hour or so, there was a crashing sound and the ship stopped. We'd run aground on an island that seemed to come out of nowhere.

Everyone was okay, and Redna had some of the crew check for damage. We couldn't see much of the island from here, so Avaldr and Borgar volunteered to disembark and scout the area. See if this island was inhabited.

Hours passed. The hull had some damage, and would take a while to repair. The scouts never came back.

Redna decided she would go out and look for them. I wanted to come with her. She didn't want me in danger but I insisted. Obrelle offered to come as well, and Redna asked her to stay close to me.

The thick fog gave the island an oppressive atmosphere. There were no notable landmarks, but we kept walking.

"Wait." Redna put a hand up to stop us and kneeled down. There was a sword on the ground. It was Avaldr's.

Obrelle called out his names, and the captain hushed her. "Somethin's here. Stay close to me, we have no idea-"

There was a shout from behind us. "Captain!!" It was Naapyonye. He was running to us from the direction of the ship. He stopped, panting. He was holding his side. There was blood.

Redna rushed over and put a hand on his shoulder. "Easy now. What happened?"

"Th- the ship. We're under attack. These.... Things jumped out of the water..."

Redna gritted her teeth. "Damnit. I'll go and help. You two stay here with him. Tend to his wounds." She turned to face Obrelle and I. "Stay- BEHIND YOU!"

I heard a thunk, and a crash as I turned around. There was a huge monster. At the ends of it arms were two massive sets of claws, burning with dark energy. One had just batted Obrelle aside, into a rock wall fifteen yalms away. And the other was actively coming down on me.

I didn't have any time to react. It tore into my chest, the pain was unbearable. I heard the Naapyonye scream, heard Redna drawing her gunblade. And then nothing. I blacked out.

The pain didn't stop. It only got worse. A burning feeling that went deeper than the wound itself. It was a familiar feeling.

I realized what the monster was. A voidsent. Creatures of darkness. And its claws were coated with dark aether. The same dark aether that was now flooding into me. Bleeding into my very soul. Threatening to overtake it completely. It was a familiar feeling.

Why was it so familiar?

It all came back to me. My life.

Not the life I remembered. The life I dreamed.

I was Xen. The thirteenth of my line. A line of knights who fought the darkness.

Monsters not unlike voidsent plagued our world. The legends said that villains clad in black created these monsters and set them upon the people. They were powerful. Unstoppable. Even when they were killed the aether left behind would form into a new monster.

The legends said that one day a group of knights, my ancestor among them, were apporached by an emmisary from the gods, clad in white. He taught them how to use the monster's power against them. To take the aether of a dead fiend and reforge it. To solidify it into weapons so they could fight back.

So they fought back. They taught their children how to forge from the dark aether, and those children taught theirs.

I fought with my fellow knights, my family, against these monsters. We took their aether to make our swords, our shields. And we used it to build our cities. Homes to live in. Walls to protect us.

And one day we were confronted by a villain from the legends. Clad in black, with a red mask hiding their face. They told us the end was near. But we defied that end and fought them. They summoned monsters before our eyes and we cut through them. One sword would snap against the fiend that would become the next.

My comrades fell, but we kept fighting. When the last monster fell I confronted the villain alone. I said I'd stop them, and they made one last fiend, more powerful than the rest. I cut it down, and took its aether to forge one final sword to end this villain.

But it was too much. I couldn't control that aether like normal, could feel it building into more and more. Like a dam about to burst.

The villain laughed. They thanked me and vanished. The darkness exploded out. It was so much. I felt it overtake my body and soul. It felt like enough to overtake the entire world.

That was the end of my story.

.....

"But it wasn't the end."

I opened my eyes. I was in an empty white space. And I was myself again.

"No, after all that you got to run around in my body for four years."

A voice from behind me. I turned around and saw myself sitting there. The me I wasn't.

The sad cat.

A bitter laugh. "Yeah, that's me. Meow. I really hate when you call me that, y'know?"

What? She heard that?

She nodded. "I've heard all your thoughts this whole time. It was more like you were speakin' out loud." She stood up, turned to me and crossed her arms. "But you haven't heard a word I've said 'til now."

The whole time? You mean...?

"Yeah, Xen. For four years I've been here, watchin' you live my life from behind my own eyes."

I had no idea. I-

"I know. Ever since you woke up after the calamity I haven't been me. I yelled and screamed from here but you never noticed. I watched you take on my memories and think you were me. I watched you spend time with everyone. Watched you see more of the world than I ever had."

Rahks, I'm-

"Don't call me that either. I wanted to find a new name for myself. But you changed it without me. You changed me. Ignored my fear and learned to fight. You told stories from my past, things that I just wanted to push away and forget. I wanted to run away from it all but once you showed up I couldn't run anymore. I couldn't do anythin'."

I'm sorr-

"Shut up! I don't want to hear you apologize. I was so angry at you all this time. I've been terrified of the idea of spendin' the rest of my life like this, trapped in my own body, not able to be myself. I thought a lot about what I'd say to you if you ever started hearin' me. But now you're here. And all I can really say is. Thanks."

What?

She turned away and sat back down. "The life you had me live was better than what I would have lived by myself. Even thinkin' you were me, havin' all my memories, fears, and anxieties, you did things I didn't think I could do. Sometimes I'd quiet my mind. Try to blend myself into your thoughts, see if I could just be the me that you were..." She pulled her knees up to her chest and laid her head between them. "More than anythin' I'm upset that I couldn't live any of that life."

I sat down next to her.

You still could. It's not too late to try.

We opened our eyes.

Everyhting hurt. We were still on the island, laying on the ground. Our chest had been wrapped up. It was bloody, but we recognized Redna's coat.

The fog was thick, but we could see one figure, crouched on the ground, drawing something out. It was Redna. She looked injured. We couldn't see anyone else.

"C-Captain..." I hadn't said anything. She could talk. I stayed quiet.

Redna perked up and turned around. "Oh thank the kami." She rushed over and put a hand on our shoulder. "Xen, you're still with me, good. Don't worry, everythin's going to be okay." There were tears in her eyes.

There were tears in our eyes too. "I'm glad... I could be me again... Before the end..."

"What? Xen what are you...? Look, don't give up. You're not goin' to die on my watch. I'm going to get you out of here. I promise. No matter what it takes."

I could feel us smiling. We reached a shaky hand out to Redna's on our shoulder. But then the burning came back. The darkness.

Everything went black again.

And we were back in that white space.

"Yeah. It was worth trying. Thank you, Xen." She stretched her arms out and laid down, her eyes closed, with a forced smile on her face. "Now I can die without regrets."

Without regrets? What are you talking about, you've got plenty of those. Don't you want to see the world? Don't you want to see what happened to everyone in Eorzea? Your family, Nova, those adventurers? You heard the captain, you can't give up. That can't be enough.

She gritted her teeth. "Of course it's not! Of course I want to see them. I want to be able to live my life like you did. But there's nothing I can do. Even if Redna gets us out of there the darkness isn't stoppin'. I can feel it burning in my soul too. Dyin' with one less regret will have to be good enough."

It doesn't. It won't. I'm not going to let you die either.

I stood up.

"What are you goin' to do?"

Darkness. I spent my whole life fighting it. Forging it into something else. I'll pull it out of our souls, and forge it into something else.

"Will that work? I saw your memories when they came back to you, but I never saw you forgin' darkness that was inside someone like this."

I don't know. But I have to try.

I took a few steps forward and closed my eyes. Reached my arms out to feel for the darkness around us. Inside us. It was only just starting to bleed into her. But it was deep inside me. It had nearly overtaken my entire being. I knew I had to work fast.

"How do you do it?"

I opened my eyes and looked behind me. She'd stood up.

"Your whole life you had to fight. You didn't have any choice. But you kept goin'. Even when you were the only one left. Even now, when you might tear apart your own soul."

I turned back to her and smiled.

You're right. I fought because I didn't have a choice. Not because I wasn't given one. But because there's no other choice I would make. I fought to protect my world. My family.

"But that's all gone now."

It is. But I can fight for its memory. And find new things to fight for. For the Liljefisker. Redna and the crew. And for you.

I fight to protect the things I care about.

She opened her mouth to speak, but I could tell she couldn't find the right words. In the end she just smiled to me and nodded. She understood.

There's not much more time, but I want to ask. Did you ever decide on a name for yourself?

She looked sheepish. "No... To be honest I do like your name."

I reached my hand out to her.

Then keep it. If this really is the end of Xen the Thirteenth's story, then it can also be the start of Xen the Fourteenth's.

She wiped tears from her eyes and took my hand. "Thank you, Xen, I-"

A binding light. The moment our hands touched something happened. I felt a surge of strength. That darkness that was moments away from overtaking me suddenly felt like nothing. I could forge it with no effort. So I did.

"Xen? What's goin' on??"

I felt something pulling at me. It was familiar. Not to any of my memories, or even to any of hers. But to something somewhere deep in my heart.

It felt like home. Like open skies. Like the sun's warmth.

...

Xen's head was pounding. Her chest was sore. The whole world felt like it was moving around her. Rocking back and forth. It actually was.

She was on a ship. It wasn't the Liljefisker. She was lying in a bed, one of several in the room.

She sat up and looked around. Empty beds to one side, and to the other one bed with one occupant, who had just jumped out of bed to hug her.

"You're up! Thank the kami. How are you feelin'?" Redna was holding her tight. A little too tight.

"Ow."

"Sorry." Redna let go and took a step back. She looked tired, there were bandages around her head, covering her left eye.

"We're- Uh. I'm okay. I think so, at least. What happened?"

Redna frowned. She sat back down on the bed and was quiet for a moment.

"Voidsent. They were all over the island. Tore the 'fisker apart. Chased us deeper inland. We were the only ones who made it out."

Xen wanted to cry. She'd watched herself get to know the crew the last four years. Had wanted to know them again herself. But they were gone.

Redna reached out and put a hand on Xen's shoulder. "I managed to find a lifeboat and got us off that damned rock. We drifted for a few days before this merchant ship found us. Their chirurgeon patched us up. That was about a week ago."

Xen started to stand up, and quickly found herself falling back into bed. The hrothgar woman caught her and helped lay her down gently.

"Easy now. They patched you up, but you were in bad shape. We're a few days out from port, they'll get you to a proper doctor there. I'll go get the chirurgeon, just hold tight for now."

Redna stood up and started towards the door, before stopping.

"Xen. Do you still... Feel like you?"

Xen smiled. "Yeah. More than ever."

"Good." Redna turned around, a smile on her face too, and then she left.

Eventually the ship made it to port. Xen would need a couple moons of rest before she could be up and about, and a few more after to get in shape. For the time being Redna worked with the local fishermans guild.

Once she could walk again, Xen asked Redna to teach her to fight. Her body certainly remembered how to use her knives, but she needed to be sure she could handle things herself.

A few moons passed, and Redna was ready to leave. She needed to start saving up for a new ship, and had plans to fight as a gladiator in the Bloodsands at Ul'Dah. Xen saw her off on the next ship. She wanted to take more time here, and someone had to take Redna's spot at the fisherman's guild.

Xen trained with her knives. And though she was rusty, she practiced her thaumaturgy. It wouldn't hurt to have a backup option. Being an adventurer sounded like it'd be a lot of work.

Some nights, while lying in bed, trying to sleep. She'd quiet her mind. Silence her thoughts as much as she could. Just to see if anyone else was there, trying to talk to her. But she was alone. Only she was herself.

Eventually it was time. Medical debts had been paid, she'd done plenty of work with the guild, and there was a ship that came from Sharlyan in port. It was bound for Limsa Lominsa. She gathered her things, bought a ticket, and went aboard.

She thought about Eorzea. It had been almost five years since the calamity. She'd heard about the destruction it caused, and how the land was recovering.

She thought of her family. Of the professor. Of that beautiful adventurer. She didn't know if any of them were even still alive, but she hoped she could see them again.

She saw some of the other passengers. A bearded hyuran man who waved to her as she boarded. A pair of elezen children who didn't seem to notice she existed.

She sat down below deck and closed her eyes. It was going to be a long trip, so she may as well rest now.

She slept, and dreamed.

Dreamed of light. Of a shadowy figure. And of three words.

"Hear... Feel... Think..."

#ffxiv #ffxiv fic #xen posting #redna posting #this ended up way longer than I expected it to #its 5.7k words lmao #might go and make an ao3 account or something to post this there #but for now it can just live under a readmore

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