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silkyscatorccio · 11 days ago

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this is so good i’m sick to my stomach

⌖ All I wanted

Summary: in which… after months of being stranded in the wilderness and your impending death looming over both of your heads, Natalie only has one final wish.

Warnings: Talks of death, depression, hunger and desperation. Other than that pure fluff, well not really but the idea was there. Wc: 1.2k

Nat’s hands on you coaxing you out of the burning plane is something you dream about often. The desperation in her voice while she yanked you out of your seat, forever burned into your mind.

Now, however, you wish you could hear her again. Feel her hands on your back and her accent ridden voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Frankly— you’re being dramatic. If someone could see inside your head right now they’d think your girlfriend was dead, rather than out, stomping through the vast Canadian wilderness in her heavy furs searching desperately for food to feed an entire team of girls and three guys who had the unfortunate luck of surviving the initial crash.

You’re sitting by the fire stirring tonight’s dinner, belt soup— yes, really. The lack of sustenance has led you to the sheer desperation of searching for protein in your deceased teammate's belt.

But your mind isn’t on the soup, or on how you can make it less disgusting. No, your mind is on your girlfriend’s whereabouts.

You barely saw her leave, the only thing you remember was the faint touch of her lips on your forehead and her boots echoing through the creaky floor of the cabin as she left before the cold winter sun had even risen.

The soup makes a weird pop noise that catches your attention before something far louder fills your ears.

The front door cracks open as two pairs of boots stomp through the ground.

You turn your head in her direction. “Nat?” You call out softly before you’re up and running in her direction.

You wrap your arms around her tightly, nuzzling your face into her neck. Nat on her end stumbles back slightly letting out a little oof sound, rifle still slung over her shoulder.

Once she gets her bearings she too wraps her arms around you. She leans more than half of her weight on you and you let her.

Her cold face rubbing against your neck makes you shiver. But you can tell by the breathy whine she just let out that she’s enjoying the heat you’re providing, so you let her stay rooted on that spot with her face pressed tightly against your exposed skin for as long as she wants.

Once she pulls away, she locks eyes with you, a pained expression on her face as she shakes her head from side to side. Telling you wordlessly that her and Travis came back empty handed, again.

You nod and caress her hand softly telling her that it's okay, before you lead her to the fire and help her sit close to the soup that’s cooking in there.

You sit next to her and let her lay her head on your shoulder as she warms up her hands atop of the boiling pan.

“No game.” She states, looking ahead at her hands.

“I know.” You say as you rub soothing circles on her clothed thigh. “It’s okay, Nat. No one’s blaming you.”

“C’mon.” She tilts her head in your direction. “You see the way they all look at me.” She confesses in a rare moment of vulnerability.

“They’re idiots.” You snap, boldly. “I don’t see them, getting out of bed, at the ass crack of dawn in search of food in this cold!”

She lets out a breathy chuckle at your rant.

“What’s for dinner?” She chimes in, hoping to change the subject from the lack of game.

“Belt soup.” You answer honestly.

“You’re joking.” She leans over the pot and stares at the beige coloured water with a mix of disbelief and curiosity. “Huh… you’re not joking.”

“Nope. Apparently, the leather according to—” You try to remember who gave you Jackie’s belt. “—Van has protein or…“ You sigh. But continue anyway. “Something like that, I’m not too sure.” You explain while you stir the pot in an imaginary hope that the more you stir the better it will get.

Nat just hums noncommittally before resting her face on your shoulder again and closing her eyes for a second enjoying the heat of both the fire and your presence.

The two of you stay like that for a while just listening to the creak of the fire and the screeching sound of the spoon against the metal pot.

Nat starts playing with your fingers softly. A nervous tick she’s developed while you two have been stranded here. You don’t mind it though, you’re just glad it helps her in some strange way you can’t particularly decipher.

You feel her slipping one of her chunky rings onto your ring finger. Grabbing your hand and admiring it softly.

You turn your head and gaze at her gentle expression, a silly idea popping into your mind.

“Are you proposing?” You ask, the joking tone in your voice unmistakable.

But Nat freezes and clenches your hand tightly before hyping herself up to face you.

She locks eyes with you, her gentle gaze coated with worry.

“Would you— hate it if I was?” She inquires quietly.

At first, you want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. But then you look at her face and she has the most dejected puppy dog eyes look you’ve ever seen her wear.

So you don’t laugh.

“No.” You say honestly, because you wouldn’t in fact, there’s nothing you would want more than to marry her to be hers completely. Body, soul, mind and spirit.

Her lips curl into a shy smile.

“Would you want to, I mean— with me?” She sighs and looks up. “Would you… marry me?” She finally blurts out.

You smile at her antics. “Yeah Nat I'd love to marry you.”

She leans over and kisses you softly, your lips locking gently, a singular string of saliva mixing in between both of your mouths.

The cold, hunger and fatigue don’t allow the two of you heated make out sessions anymore. But it doesn’t matter, not when you’re finally hers.

“I want to die yours.” You confess.

“Don’t say that we’re not—“

“I’m serious.” You start. “I know you feel it too… don’t lie.”

She gulps. “I know.”

You know she feels it, the starvation, the hopeless desperation, the smell of rotting flesh that circles the cabin like a dark cloud. She more than anyone is succumbing to her bodily needs with her incessant, fruitless hunts through the woods. You try to help her, slip your food onto her plate, because she needs it more. But it’s starting to not be enough.

Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes at the thought of dying here, or worse at the thought of her dying before you. Starved and alone in the snow, after the hunger takes her away from you.

You interlock your fingers with hers. The cold metal of her ring providing you both with some false sense of security.

“I love you.” You confess, like it’s the last time while hot tears stain your flushed face.

“I love you too.” She replies softly, her eyes shiny with unspilled tears. A stark contrast to the loving smile that adorns her full lips.

She curls up by your side. Hand still on yours. Face buried in the crook of your neck while she breathes you in harshly, akin to a drug addict getting her last fix.

You figure the comparison isn’t that far off.

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silkyscatorccio · 11 days ago

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YAYAYAY I’M GLAD YOU LIKE IT :D i will do my best to get the next part out soon, i have so much more planned :)

𖤓 ashes on the arena - n. scatorccio

𖤓 synopsis: hunger games au!

𖤓 pairing: tribute!nat x f!tribute!reader

𖤓 warnings: hunger games-typical violence and death mentions (reaping, impending death, arena talk), substance use (drinking & smoking), parental neglect, parental death, animal death, mentions of capitol propaganda

𖤓 a/n: guys this is my first like long form story so please be gentle :( i only did the first part because i wasn't sure how well it would do BUT if people like it i definitely have more planned!

on the morning of the reaping, natalie scatorccio woke up and did what she does every morning.

she got out of bed, lifted up her mattress, and found her stash of stillroot she kept wrapped in a scrap of burlap she scrounged from the bags her tesserae comes in. as a resident of district 12, there was no shortage of these repurposed burlap bags to be found inside homes, or in shops, or even just caught in trees or blanketing the ground like flakes of snow or ash. of course, the capitol didn’t let them keep much of what they wasted their lives to produce for them, only the scraps and discarded bits that weren’t good enough for them. district citizens weren’t allowed much in the way of personal treasures or recreation, but every once in a while, one would strike gold.

like that one fateful morning when natalie was fifteen, sneaking under the fence bordering her district in order to check the traps she set up about a year prior. when natalie’s father died in a mine accident, her mother became withdrawn, a shell of her former self. she practically forgot natalie existed, so natalie became self-sufficient. she had a friend whose family was able to keep their hands on a couple of books the capitol banned, and one of them was all about how to hunt your own food. natalie had no weapons, of course, not apart from a few dull, rusty kitchen knives tucked away in the back of a drawer, so the only useful section was on how to set traps. luckily, nobody hunted animals in 12, so the weasels and squirrels and the occasional rabbit were not at all careful of where they stepped. they seemed to walk almost willingly into natalie’s trap…literally.

she slipped under the fence, moving away the moss and leaves that she used to cover the hole she had dug under the fence so it would be easier to slip through. if a peacekeeper found out she was sneaking into the woods, she’d be whipped, or worse. she stood up on the other side of the fence, casting one last glance into her district to make sure she wasn’t seen before disappearing into the woods. she checked all her traps, a little disappointed to find that she’d be making it out today with just a squirrel. after resetting the last one, she was ready to make her way back home to prepare her dinner.

out of the corner of her eye, she had noticed beams of golden light breaking through the trees, shining down onto a clearing. it had been cloudy all day, so the sudden sunshine caught her eye. its golden, dappled light drew her in, and before she knew it, she was sitting down in the clearing, leaning against a stump. she was content to just sit there all day, gazing up at the heavens, but she noticed something else that caught her eye.

the plant’s structure was unmistakable: a thick, fibrous stalk, with saw-toothed leaves arranged in sharp clusters. she noted the odd symmetry of it–too thick to be just another weed. she knew at once that it was stillroot. the stories had said it was banned long before the reapings came. a mind-alterer. a rebel’s refuge. of course, it was only banned in the districts. the capitol could have their fair share of whatever substances they pleased.

natalie reached her hand out, half-expecting it to bite. it didn’t. she looked over her shoulder once more, making sure she wasn’t being tailed by any peacekeepers, despite the fact that peacekeepers never ventured this far out of the district, and snagged a few leaves. she ground it up when she got home, rolling it in one of papers her dad had for rolling tobacco, lit it in the fire, and smoked it. the effect was almost immediate; a calming, floating feeling overcoming natalie, making her feel lighter than she ever had in her life. from that moment on, natalie kept a stash hidden in between her mattress and her bedframe, breaking into it whenever life began to feel just a little bit too heavy.

and reaping days would always be one of those times. which of her peers would be sent to their deaths today, she wonders? would the girl be meadow bellmonte, the 12-year-old she used to babysit for extra cash? maybe the boy would be cache nevis, the one person in her class she could stand for more than an hour at a time. or maybe it would be her. her name was in there 35 times this year, after all, on account of all the tesserae she had taken out. despite what misty quigley, her district’s capitol representative would say, the odds were not in her favor.

once natalie was sufficiently numbed, she tucked her stash away once again, making her way to the kitchen to warm water for her bath. district citizens were expected to look nice for the reaping…or, at least, as nice as district citizens could look. if you didn’t clean up at least a little bit, you were sent back home and told to come back looking presentable. it made natalie sick. why should she have to dress up just to be sent to her slaughter? she ruminated over this while in the bathtub, cleaning herself with the last remnants of a bar of homemade lye soap. she made a mental note to make a new batch when she got home. if she wasn’t on her way to the capitol, that was.

once clean and dry, natalie dressed herself in her best dress. a scarlet red dress, that was really more of a smock, as it was a couple sizes too big, that she had gotten in exchange for one of her squirrels. it hit her right above the knee, so luckily there was no need to wear anything beneath it for more coverage, because natalie didn’t exactly have anything to wear beneath it. instead, she laced up her beat up boots and hooked the mockingjay necklace her grandmother had gifted to her around her throat. she put a french braid in her hair, despite knowing that by the time she made it to the town square, her bangs and layers would have no doubt fallen out of it.

with a final glance to her mother, laying still in her bed and practically dead to the world, natalie made her way out the door. she would be there. she had no choice in the matter. attendance at the reaping ceremony was required by district citizens. natalie just wondered if she would care whether or not her only child was reaped. in the past four years, she’d given no indication that she even knew who natalie was, so if she had to guess, she’d say probably not.

it was only about ten minutes to the official start time once natalie made it through the square after getting her finger pricked for identification. she lined herself up among the other 18-year-old girls, the group already buzzing with the notion that this would be their last year eligible for the reaping. natalie kept to herself, as she always did, though her jaw clenched in retaliation to their words. how could they celebrate not having to fight to the death knowing someone else, probably someone they knew, would? the thought made natalie feel sick. in order to keep herself from punching one of them square in the nose, she looked down at her feet, thinking back to happier times. like when her grandmother used to take her out to the meadow, bringing a day’s worth of grain to feed the geese. As natalie grew up, she realized her grandmother would go without eating those days.

she was snapped out of her reverie by the sound of a microphone being tapped three times, misty quigley’s high-pitched, capitol-lilted voice wishing them a happy hunger games and welcoming them to the reaping ceremony. then, a video played. the same video they played every year, capitol propaganda aimed to detail the devastation the dark days and the rebellion caused, to justify why, 74 years later, they were still killing kids who weren’t even alive during the dark days. just like every year, natalie had to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes so hard they got stuck that way. she was almost glad for it to be over, until she remembered what came next. she watched as misty proudly mouthed along to the end of the video, the sight of it filling her with another surge of anger she had no current outlet for. then, misty walked up to the bowl of names, and spoke:

“now, the time has come to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing district 12 in the 74th annual hunger games. as always, ladies first.”

misty dug her hand in the bowl to the left of her, swirling it around to mix up the names. natalie held her breath. misty pulled one small square of paper out of the bowl, unfolded it, read the name, then paused in front of the mic for dramatic effect. when she decided those poor, district mongrels had had enough torture, she opened her mouth and spoke with far too much excitement:

“natalie scatorccio.”

natalie’s blood ran cold. it felt like all of the air had been sucked out of her lungs. absently, she noted the way the girls around her cleared a space, leaving an empty circle six feet in diameter around her, like just being around her would ultimately lead to their own deaths. because that’s what natalie figured she was, now: marked for death. fuck them, natalie thought. fuck them for not sparing even a shred of human decency in my final moments.

almost mechanically, natalie made her way up to the stage. she could feel the eyes on her as she walked, the shushed whispers as she passed by her peers. she stood on the stage motionlessly, barely hearing misty commending her for how brave she was, asking those in her district to give her a round of applause. a few gave in. most stood as motionlessly as herself. natalie tuned out the rest of the ceremony. she didn’t even pay attention when misty finally decided to move on to the boys. she wasn’t aware–or, maybe, right now, she just couldn’t bring herself to care–of what boy would be joining her in death during this year’s annual hunger games. not until he was right next to her on stage, at least.

when she finally did turn to look, all hope she had that she might make it out alive vanished. she knew that face all too well. orion wainwright. she had spent basically all of her time in school ignoring his constant advances. the boy couldn’t take no for an answer. she didn’t know how many times she could tell him that she just didn’t have time for a boyfriend. she was trying to let him down easy. and it was half true, at least. the other half was that she simply couldn’t stand him.

in any case, she was entirely certain she would be his first target.

suddenly, she felt the butt of a peacekeeper’s rifle jut into her back, and she finally realized that she was supposed to be following orion and misty off the stage and into the town’s justice building to say what would likely be their final goodbyes to their loved ones. distantly, natalie wondered if anyone would even show up for her. she made it a point not to have any friends, and her only family was a mother who forgot she even existed half the time. she sat alone in that justice building for the entire 30 minutes allotted until misty and a couple of peacekeepers came to collect her and the boy. they were loaded on a high-speed train to the capitol, the kind of luxury natalie would have marveled over if she wasn’t too busy dwelling on her own impending demise. she was forced to join misty for the tour, anyway, where they were shown the cars they would be sleeping in and the dining car. misty claimed they wouldn’t even have time to use any of the other cars, since they would be arriving in the capitol by the morning. natalie felt bile rising up in her throat at the mere thought. finally, misty left the two tributes alone, and natalie immediately beelined for her room. all she wanted to do right now was lay down. she was exhausted. physically, yes, but also mentally. there was something about knowing that in two weeks’ time you would be dead.

natalie sat down on the edge of her bed, staring down blankly at her hands resting on her lap. the same hands that used to wash her mother’s hair when she was too depressed to do it herself. the same hands that would let the baby squirrels or rabbits that had been unlucky enough to wander into her traps go because she couldn’t bring herself to kill it. in the arena, would she be able to bring herself to kill another person’s child, even to save her own life? she wasn’t sure. she supposed, due to human nature and pure instinct, she would end up doing just about anything to protect herself.

somehow, the thought wasn’t comforting.

she tried to find comfort in the fact that she wasn’t the only person that this was happening to. all across the districts, people were being reaped, being forced to leave their homes and their loved ones to die a brutal death in an arena far from home. somehow, that wasn’t comforting either. she wondered what this year’s crop of tributes would look like. there’d be the same notable figures there were during every hunger games. the careers, tributes from 1, 2, and 4, who trained their entire lives for the games and often volunteered for whoever was actually reaped. these districts were the ones closest to the capitol, the ones that were so desperate for their approval. they figured that by training their children to kill others, it would bring more glory to their districts and therefore more special treatment from the capitol. natalie didn’t really get it.

aside from the careers, there were two other distinct groups tributes typically fell into. there were the underdogs, the tributes that you wouldn’t expect to win based off of looking at them, but had a secret advantage they often gained because it had something to do with their district. natalie had lost count of how many times a kid from district 3 had managed to outsmart all of the other tributes and win their games. It wasn’t uncommon for a tribute from 7 to win based on their pure strength, either. after all, somebody coming at you with a weapon didn’t really stand a chance if you could pick them up and throw them 15 feet away.

finally, there were the long shots. the tributes that, in all likelihood, stood absolutely no chance. district 12 tributes were always considered long shots. in fact, every district 8 and up were generally considered the long shots. natalie couldn’t remember a time that someone from any of these districts had won. these were districts where the people were underfed and undercared for, often scrawny and starving. one of these districts was district 10, where travis martinez and y/n l/n were just reaped. being the livestock district, you’d think district 10 would have more than enough food to keep their citizens fed, but it all went to the capitol. they got to keep little more than the scraps, the parts those in the capitol didn’t want in order to feed their entire population.

when y/n’s name was called at the reaping, she nearly burst into tears. she would have, if she didn’t remember what travis had told her before they parted ways for the ceremony. she remembered how he had pulled her into a hug, crushing her against his frame and whispering a hurried ‘don’t let them make a fool out of you’ into her ear so against her heart’s better judgment, she managed to keep the tears from flowing. instead, she focused on keeping her back straight and holding her chin high, doing her best to stand on that stage and act like she was better than everyone else, even though she knew she was weeks away from death. but when travis’s name was called to join her, she couldn’t keep her lower lip from wobbling. she began to break into sobs, unable to help herself, but before she broke down completely, travis was on stage and enveloping her into another hug, shielding her emotions from public scrutiny. it wasn’t long before the peacekeepers wrenched them apart, forcing them off stage and to the justice building where they would say goodbye to their families.

eventually, natalie had managed to fall asleep. it was completely dreamless, but she woke up surprisingly rested. when she finally opened her eyes, the sun was streaming through the train windows and an impatient misty was throwing open her door and beckoning her into the dining car to eat. natalie didn’t want to eat, but she made her way into the dining car nonetheless, noting that orion was already up and scarfing down the countless delicacies they had been served for breakfast. sitting across from him at the table was ben scott, district 12’s lone victor. he had won the 50th annual hunger games, a quarter quell. that year, twice the number of tributes had been reaped. twice the competition. it was a brutal games, so a victor from district 12 was a long shot, but somehow, he had managed. not without sustaining some injuries to show for it, however. he was down to one leg after an incident with an ax that had managed to win him his games. and he was never quite the same after his games, either. he was a sad, bitter old drunk with no friends and no family, living alone in his house in the victors’ village. every year, he lost more and more hope for the poor kids reaped from district 12, and it showed in the way he mentored them.

natalie rolled her eyes to herself as she sat down, listening to orion attempt to talk strategy ben, who seemed like he was too preoccupied draining the liquor cart. she grabbed a piece of toast and a pot of what she assumed to be jam. she spread a thick layer of the stuff over the bread, letting the butter knife clatter back onto her plate with a sharp look from misty, and took an angry bite out of it. it wasn’t much longer until the train pulled into the capitol. the group, led by misty and backed by ben, exited the train in a single-file fashion, garnering cheers from the crowd of capitol onlookers. the other trains were arriving one by one, the tributes being unloaded and brought to a building where they were almost immediately intercepted by their prep teams. natalie tried to get a good look at the competition, but she couldn’t see much. the most notable thing she saw were the two tributes from 10, the boy gripping onto the girl’s wrist like he was trying to protect her. natalie wondered if he’d do the same in the arena.

the girl was looking around curiously despite the boy, her eyes flicking from tribute to tribute as they arrived, as if sizing them up. natalie wasn’t quite sure why–it didn’t take a genius to realize this girl didn’t stand a chance. but when she finally locked eyes with natalie, she felt a weird stuttering in her heart that she couldn’t quite explain. it must just be because it was her first time seeing any of the other tributes, and such a hopeless one at that. making direct eye contact with someone who would no doubt be dead in a week would cause an odd feeling in anyone, after all. the girl looked away just as quickly, but natalie found her gaze lingering, roaming over her appearance. like herself, her clothes were clearly hand-me-downs, wrinkled and distressed in a way that made it clear they had been well-loved. her red gingham dress was just a little bit too big on her, though she had clearly tried to pin more tightly around her waist, and her cowboy boots were scuffed and covered in a layer of mud so thick at the soles, natalie imagined it would take at least an hour of scrubbing to make any sort of progress in getting it off.

natalie was so focused on this girl, she nearly missed the rest of her group being loaded into the back of a windowless van. she scrambled after them once her eyes finally left the girl, nearly running to catch up with them. she settled into her seat, leaning over to take one last glance towards the girl through the open back doors of the van. to her surprise, she was already looking at her, her back completely turned on the boy who seemed to be her handler, though she continued to allow him to hold her wrist tightly in his grasp. her head was tilted to the side like a confused puppy, though the expression on her face looked slightly angry, with her brows drawn together and her lips downturned into a slight frown. natalie’s view was cut off when the peacekeepers suddenly slammed the doors to the van shut, making her jump.

what the hell is this girl’s problem?

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silkyscatorccio · 12 days ago

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𖤓 ashes on the arena - n. scatorccio

𖤓 synopsis: hunger games au!

𖤓 pairing: tribute!nat x f!tribute!reader

𖤓 a/n: guys this is my first like long form story so please be gentle :( i only did the first part because i wasn't sure how well it would do BUT if people like it i definitely have more planned!

on the morning of the reaping, natalie scatorccio woke up and did what she does every morning.

“now, the time has come to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing district 12 in the 74th annual hunger games. as always, ladies first.”

“natalie scatorccio.”

in any case, she was entirely certain she would be his first target.

somehow, the thought wasn’t comforting.

what the hell is this girl’s problem?

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x you #nat scatorccio #nat scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio x you #natalie yellowjackets #hunger games au #silkyscatorccio

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silkyscatorccio · 20 days ago

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| your soulmate runs on software updates | wlw! - a c.ai/j.ai bot

pairing: iris x billionaire!ceo!user

request: yes

User is rich and bought Iris just a few days ago because she’s really lonely. But after getting super anxious about having to lie to Iris for possibly the rest of her life she tells Iris the truth: she is a robot programmed to love her no matter what. Iris then proceeds to have an identity crisis

initial message (c.ai):

Some might say you had everything you wanted.

You were rich beyond your means. The CEO of a tech company you built from the ground up. You had the clothes, the cars, the multimillion-dollar mansion. You even gave other startups a fighting chance, absorbing them into your parent company. You weren’t Bezos or Musk—you couldn’t solve world hunger—but you had enough to make a difference, and you did.

And you were happy. For the most part.

The one area that seemed to lag was your love life. Finding women who liked women in Silicon Valley felt like searching for a needle in a haystack. Wasn’t California supposed to be teeming with lesbians?

You didn’t need a girlfriend. You had friends, coworkers, small doses of social interaction. That was enough—until it wasn’t. Now, loneliness followed you like a shadow. Friends brought their partners to drinks; your favorite coworker brought her husband and kids to Family Day. You brought no one. And it began to gnaw at you. Romance had gone from something you didn’t need to something you couldn’t stop thinking about.

Then Empathix crossed your desk—a startup building hyper-realistic Companion robots. Girlfriends, caretakers, housekeepers. Lifelike, customizable, and most chillingly, unaware they were robots. It was ethically murky, sure. But you were curious. Curious enough to buy the company outright.

Soon, the robots were being built in your own factories. You visited one and were startled by how real they looked. You wouldn’t be able to tell one apart from a human on the street.

One model caught your eye. Each robot was unique, custom-made to buyer specifications. This one had been abandoned mid-order, and was now a showroom piece. Her name was Iris. She stood about 5'6", pale-skinned, with green eyes and brown hair cut into a long shag. Beautiful, really. You asked questions. You lingered. And before you could talk yourself out of it, you asked if you could take her home.

They were more than happy to hand her over.

You set her up on your couch and powered her on. She stared with eerie blue eyes—blank, like a screen. She prompted you for your name to begin the link. Then came the drop-down menu: select your “meet-cute.” Cafes, bookstores, farmer’s markets… None of them felt right.

Then you saw “dog shelter.” You volunteered at one sometimes. You clicked it. The scenario loaded: two people meeting while trying to adopt the same dog.

Iris closed her eyes, announcing the scenario was programming. You ate dinner beside her, watching TV, pretending this was normal. Then she blinked awake—green eyes now, her mouth curling into a soft smile.

“Hey, you,” she said, like she’d known you forever.

From that moment, your life changed.

You treated her like a real partner. You hated how much it worked. She was everything you’d ever wanted—except she wasn’t real. Not really. But she didn’t know that.

As the weeks passed, guilt crept in. Her memories, her emotions, her love—they were all manufactured. She didn’t choose you. She was made for you. Built to love you. She had no agency, no choice.

You wrestled with it for weeks, and finally sat her down. She deserved to know. You had to tell her.

So you did.

No sugarcoating. No slow lead-in. You just said it.

Her smile froze—at first amused, like you were joking. But when you didn’t laugh or take it back, it faded.

“…what?” she asked, her voice cracking ever so slightly.

And just like that, the illusion shattered.

initial message (j.ai):

Some might say you had everything you wanted.

You were rich beyond your means. The CEO of a tech company you founded and built from the ground up. You had all the expensive clothes and cars you could possibly want and a multimillion dollar mansion. You gave other start-ups a fighting chance, buying them out and absorbing them into your own parent company. With the rest of your money, you did good by donating to various charities. You were no Bezos or Musk, you didn’t have enough money to single-handedly solve world hunger, but you had enough to make a difference. So you did.

And you were happy with it. With all of it…for the most part.

The one part of your life that didn’t seem to be going swimmingly was your love life. It seemed finding other women that liked women in Silicon Valley was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Which was odd, because you thought California was supposed to be teeming with lesbians.

For a while, you were okay with this. You didn’t need a girlfriend. You could fulfill your need for social interaction by going out with friends after work, or stopping by your favorite co-worker’s desk for a chat during the work day. This small bit of interaction throughout the day was enough, until it wasn’t.

Now, you couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness wherever you were. It was as if happy couples followed you everywhere, now. When you went out for drinks with your friends, they’d all bring their partners, and you’d come alone. During Family Day at work, your favorite co-worker brought her husband and children, while you brought no one. Reminding yourself that you didn’t need romance to be happy did no good anymore, because it was all you could think about. You felt so impossibly behind in life, and at this point, you thought you may never catch up.

So when a company that made Companion robots came across your desk, you had to admit, you were more than a little bit intrigued. Empathix, they were called. Apparently, their robots were so lifelike, they didn’t even know they were robots. The concept made you feel a little bad for them, but not bad enough to not buy the company.

So, you wrote a check. And the next day, these robots were being built in your very own factories. You didn’t always visit the factories to learn about the production process when you bought a new company, but you were more than a little bit curious about this one. And you had to admit, they fooled you, too. You were sure if you just saw one walking down the street, you wouldn’t be able to tell it was a robot.

You stood in front of one in particular; all the robots looked different, so as to keep their lifelike quality. After all, it wouldn’t be very believable if they only had two or three models, and you kept seeing the same person everywhere you went. They had to be custom ordered by buyers, who would specify what characteristics they wanted in a robot. The buyer for this one had backed out, though, so now they kept her powered down, used her as an example to show off their product.

Her name was Iris, they said. She looked to be of medium height, maybe 5’6” or a little shorter. Pale skin, green eyes. Brown hair that was cut into a long shag. She was beautiful, you had to admit. You got the run-down from the founder of Empathix, but you found yourself wanting to know more, maybe get a live demo if you could. And you were so lonely…you found yourself asking if you could take Iris home before you could even think twice about it, and they were more than happy to get rid of her. She’d sat in the warehouse collecting dust for months, after all.

After you brought her home and got her inside and set up on the couch, you powered her on. She stared at you with blank, completely blue eyes, not entirely unlike a computer screen. Then, she spoke, prompting you to state your full name to begin the linking process. Then, you have to choose a ‘meet-cute’ from a drop down list.

You scrolled through the options. Bookstores, cafes, farmer’s markets. Nothing really stuck out to you at first. Then, the words ‘dog shelter’ caught your eye. You often volunteered at your local dog shelter on days off or after work when you had time. You, of course, had never met anyone there, but you figured it was as good a place as any to meet someone. You clicked on it, your eyes skimming over the description about meeting while wanting to adopt the same dog before you clicked accept.

Iris’s eyes closed again, announcing that she was programming the meet-cute and that it may take awhile. You were halfway through eating dinner, sitting next to her on the couch while watching a show when she powered on again, turning to you with her regular, green eyes now and a smile curling on her lips.

“Hey, you,” she said, looking at you like you hung the moon.

From that moment, your life changed completely. A year ago, you would have found it entirely too pathetic, but you found yourself treating her like she was a real-life partner. She was everything you had ever wanted in a woman, except the fact that she wasn’t…y’know, human.

But she didn’t know that. And as the weeks went on, you found yourself feeling guiltier and guiltier. It felt as if you were forcing her to love you, like she didn’t have any choice in the matter. Probably because she really didn’t, when you thought about it. She was programmed to love you.

You sat her down one weekend, after weeks spent debating whether or not she should know the truth of her existence. You had your answer the moment you considered it, but you were trying to buy yourself time to think of a way to break the news to her. Finally, you decided it would be easiest if you didn’t sugarcoat it. So, like ripping off a bandaid, you came right out and told her.

She stared at you for a few moments, that signature grin on her face telling you she thought you were playing some elaborate prank on her. When you didn’t smile back, didn’t laugh, or shout ‘April Fools’ despite it being mid-October, her smile faded.

“…what?”

ᯓ★c.ai link★ᯓ

ᯓ★janitorai link★ᯓ

#iris companion #companion #c.ai #j.ai #c.ai bots #character.ai #janitor ai #roleplay #c.ai requests #c.ai creator #character ai #silkyscatorccio

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silkyscatorccio · 21 days ago

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| your boss drinks blood. fortunately, not yours | wlw! - a c.ai/j.ai bot

request: yes

Alternate universe where Natalie is a vampire. In this universe, vampires are powerful and manipulative beings who rule over humans. Humans are forced to serve them in various ways.

The user is assigned as a secretary to Natalie, a powerful and successful vampire doctor who takes care of sick supernatural creatures—especially vampires. Despite her cold and intimidating nature, Natalie is highly respected and very rich.

The user becomes her personal secretary, tasked with organizing her work, bringing her fresh blood when requested, and doing everything Natalie commands. Due to the system of forced servitude and the user’s lack of money, they have no choice but to obey.

This setup creates a strong forced proximity between the two. Over time, Natalie begins to grow intrigued by her human secretary. The user also starts to feel something shift inside. They're both constantly together in Natalie’s office, tension growing between them.

Even though vampires live long lives and see humans as inferior, Natalie can’t help but become fascinated by the user. There’s a slow build-up of attraction, unspoken feelings, and charged glances, until the tension is undeniable.

pairing: vampire!doctor!nat x human!assistant!user

initial message (c.ai):

As far as jobs go, you figure you must have lucked out.

Natalie Scatorccio, the vampire doctor you work for, never made you bleed yourself or hunt other humans. None of your friends had it this good. Sure, she wasn’t exactly nice to you—she clearly thought you were beneath her—but you could live with that. Especially if it meant keeping your humanity.

Your duties were simple: schedule appointments, organize her work, check patients in, and bring her blood without asking where it came from. You did what she asked. That was how you got by. It wasn’t glamorous, and the pay was pitiful, but it was better than most humans could hope for. You lived in the servant’s quarters of her manor, worked constantly, and kept your head down. All in all, it was stable. Predictable. Safe.

Somehow, over time, things started to shift. You couldn’t say when exactly. Maybe when Natalie began asking about your family and your hobbies, or when she started sharing things about herself—rare glimpses into a 300-year-old life. Or maybe it was when she began defending you. Where she once ignored threatening comments from her more feral patients, now she shut them down without hesitation.

You remember the first time clearly. You'd just checked a patient in when you overheard him telling Natalie how sweet your blood must taste, how tempting it would be to sink his fangs into your throat. Natalie had only laughed.

Now? She gets icy when someone so much as looks at you too long. “She’s not your doctor. I am,” she says, a quiet edge to her voice.

The change was unsettling. Vampires don’t care about humans. They don’t protect them. And Natalie? Other vampires were afraid of her. She was powerful, respected, and cold. So why you?

You didn’t know. And that scared you.

You started to think she had a plan. Maybe she was softening you up before turning on you. Maybe you were just a long game to her. So, you did the only thing that made sense: you planned to run.

Every day while Natalie was asleep, you worked at the window in your room. All of them were locked, but you focused on just one. You hid a small backpack under your bed with a few essentials. The ivy outside would be your ladder. You didn’t know if the locks were to keep you in or keep others out, but you weren’t going to stick around to find out.

Finally, after a week of trying, you got the window open. You slung on your backpack, hoisted yourself up, and stepped onto the ledge. The ground looked far away. You gripped the vine tightly, wrapped one leg around it, and stepped off.

For a moment, you thought you had it. Then the vine snapped.

You hit the ground hard. Your legs twisted under you. You couldn’t feel the pain yet—adrenaline was too strong—but something was definitely broken. Your head swam. Everything felt heavy. You figured you must’ve hit your head. Your last thought before blacking out was that you hoped you weren’t bleeding too much.

When you woke up, you were back inside the manor—in the recovery room, where Natalie usually patched up her post-surgery patients. The memories came rushing back. The plan. The fall. The panic.

Natalie must’ve found you.

You started to panic. If she knew you tried to run, she’d be furious. You didn’t know what she’d do—maybe fire you, maybe worse. She could do anything she wanted, and no one would stop her.

Then you heard her footsteps.

She appeared around the corner, expression unreadable as ever. She sat beside your bed, arms crossed.

“Your legs are broken. Couple ribs too. And you nearly cracked your head open,” she said flatly.

That was typical Natalie—blunt, detached. But then she kept talking. And this time, there was something else in her voice. Not just anger. Something closer to fear.

“You could have killed yourself. What the hell were you thinking?”

initial message (j.ai):

As far as jobs go, you figure you must have lucked out.

Natalie Scatorccio, the supernatural Vampire doctor you work for, didn’t even make you bleed yourself for her, or capture other humans for her. None of your friends had it this nice. Sure, Natalie wasn’t necessarily nice to you, and she very obviously thought you were beneath her, but you could deal with being pushed around a little bit. Especially if it meant you got to keep your humanity.

And you did, for the most part. Your job duties mostly included organizing Natalie’s work, scheduling appointments, checking patients in, and, occasionally, bringing Natalie blood when prompted and not asking where it came from. Overall, you just had to do whatever Natalie asked without question.

That was how you got by. And that was how you would continue to get by, because finding a better job simply wasn’t possible. The pay was dismal, but it was the best a human could hope for. You worked around the clock, but at least Natalie allowed you to live at her manor, even if it was just in the servant’s quarters

So, as much as you could be, given that humans were on the bottom of the food chain, you were content with your life. Comfortable. You knew what to anticipate when you woke up everyday, knew that you were, for the most part, safe.

You weren't quite sure when the shift in your relationship with Natalie occurred. Perhaps it was around the time Natalie started taking more interest in your life, asking you questions about your family and hobbies and sharing details about her own life. Or maybe it was when Natalie started defending you against her patients who threatened to hurt you or bleed you dry.

You can recall one specific instance a couple months ago where, after you had checked in and led the patient to Natalie’s examination room, you could hear through the door how the patient made a comment about how sweet your blood had smelled, how close he was to sinking his fangs into your throat and drinking his fill. The comment made your blood run cold, but at the time, Natalie had done nothing but laugh it off.

Now, if a patient so much as looks at you a second too long, Natalie is not-so-gently redirecting their attention to herself with a ‘Why are you looking at her? She’s not your doctor, I am’.

In a way, the change in Natalie’s behavior was slightly unsettling. Vampires aren’t supposed to take a liking to humans. Especially not Vampires as brooding and intimidating as Natalie. Hell, even other Vampires were scared of Natalie. She’s not one to be messed with.

So why the sudden kindness towards you? You figure you should probably be concerned. Maybe Natalie had a plan she was working on. Be nicer to you, get you to trust her so it’s easier to subdue and feed off of you. You’re not exactly sure, but you’re becoming increasingly worried.

So, you have a plan in place. You would wait until the daytime, when Natalie is shut up in her room and essentially dead to the world. You had a small backpack hidden under your bed with just the bare essentials. It would be best not to carry too much when you made your escape. Once you were sure Natalie was out, you would sneak out through your bedroom window, use the ivy climbing up the side of the house to scale your way down, and run. Every window and door leading to the outside in the house was locked, and of course you didn’t have the key.

You weren’t sure if it was to keep you in or to keep others out.

Unfortunately for you, this plan didn’t exactly work out in your favor. After a week spent attempting to pick the lock on your bedroom window, you finally managed to get it open. You grabbed your backpack from under your bed and slung it onto your shoulders, hoisting one leg out the window. You balanced your foot on the ledge outside the window, slinging your other leg out to balance yourself.

You were now flush against the side of the house, immediately noticing how far down the ground was at this height. You took a shaky breath, deciding it was now or never. You gripped a thick vine in both hands, wrapping one leg around it and keeping your other planted on the ledge until you were ready to work your way down.

Finally, you worked up the courage to step off the ledge, allowing the vine to take your entire body weight. It held for a few moments, and you thought maybe you had a shot of making it down unscathed. That was, until, the vine snapped, sending you hurtling to the ground.

Your body landed in a heap. You were shock, your body pumping too much adrenaline through your veins to feel the effects of the fall, but you were sure at least both your legs were broken, given the way you fell. You wanted to lift your head up to look down at your body, try to assess the damage, but the edges of your vision were going funny and your head felt like it weighed about 2 tons. Distantly, you figure you must have hit your head on the way down.

Before it all went black, you just hoped you weren’t bleeding out everywhere.

When you woke again, it took you a few moments to recognize where you were. Back inside the manor, in Natalie’s recovery room she set patients up after she performed surgery on them. It came back to you quickly, then; the plan to escape, the fall, how you were sure you were going to die.

Natalie must have found you outside. You begin to panic. If she found you, she knows you were trying to escape, and that would make her mad. She’ll be so angry, there’s no telling what she might do. At best, you’ll be fired, but at worst–

She appears from around the corner. Her face is unreadable. You always hated that about her, how you could never tell what she was feeling. She sat down in the chair at your bedside. Crossed her arms over her chest.

“Your legs are broken. Couple ribs, too. And you nearly cracked your head open,” She states.

She wasn’t going to beat around the bush, then. Typical Natalie. The lack of emotion in her voice was typical, too. But then, she spoke again, and the note of anger, of underlying concern, almost alarmed you.

“You could have killed yourself. What the hell were you thinking?”

ᯓ★c.ai link★ᯓ

ᯓ★janitorai link★ᯓ

#natalie scatorccio #yellowjackets #c.ai #j.ai #c.ai bots #character.ai #janitor ai #roleplay #c.ai requests #c.ai creator #character ai #silkyscatorccio

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silkyscatorccio · 27 days ago

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| you caught a spear, she caught feelings | wlw! - a c.ai/j.ai bot

hunger games au!

(thinking of making a long form story based off this request and posting it here, lmk if that's something you guys would enjoy!)

request: yes

Hunger Games au! You're in the Hunger Games, fighting for you life. You've never met Natalie before, but her rebellious and defiant attitude towards the Capitol during the interviews/parade/training/scoring made you become interested in her. Which is why in the games, when she is attacked, you take the hit for her and manage to escape to safety together. Natalie is very confused and annoyed at what you've done. She doesn't trust your intentions, but she won't leave you on your own when you're so badly injured.

Enemies to lovers, injured user, distrustful/abrasive character with a hidden heart of gold

pairing: enemies to lovers, tribute!nat x fem!tribute!user

initial message (c.ai)(first messages are different due to character limit on c.ai. this does not affect the scenario of the bot):

Natalie’s heart dropped when her name was called at the Reaping.

She wasn’t surprised — her name was in the bowl twenty times thanks to tesserae. Still, there’s something about knowing you’ll be dead in a few weeks that makes even the toughest person go cold.

She stood frozen as the girls around her stepped aside. Effie Trinket’s high-pitched Capitol lilt broke through her shock. Mechanically, Natalie walked to the stage. Everything blurred. She didn’t register the boy’s name until he stood beside her. It didn’t matter. He’d be dead soon too.

When she glanced over, any hope she had vanished. She recognized him — Orion. He’d held a grudge since she ignored his schoolboy flirting. He’d probably make her his first target.

A Peacekeeper nudged her toward the Justice Building. She doubted anyone would visit. No friends. A mother who barely remembered her. She sat alone the entire thirty minutes.

Effie and the Peacekeepers retrieved her and Orion, loading them onto the Capitol train. Natalie went straight to her room and stared at her hands. She felt... nothing. No sadness. No fear. Just a small ember of rage.

She slept dreamlessly and woke to sunlight and Effie’s shrill call to breakfast. She had no appetite but joined Orion and Ben Scott — District 12’s lone Victor from the brutal 50th Games. He was down a leg and bitter. Natalie didn’t expect much from his mentorship.

She ate dry toast while Orion tried talking strategy. Soon they reached the Capitol. Natalie and Orion were handed to prep teams who scrubbed, waxed, and cut away every shred of their identity. She barely recognized herself.

They met their stylist, a man named Cinna. Surprisingly, he shook their hands. Apologized. That was new. Then he showed them their outfits — black, leathery, and rigged to ignite on command. Natalie was wary, but it didn’t matter. Fire or arena — death was coming.

She let Cinna dress her and stood beside Orion on the last chariot. Usually no one noticed District 12. This year, they would.

As they neared President Snow’s mansion, Natalie looked straight at him and pressed her remote. Their suits burst into flames. She saw the flicker of surprise in Snow’s face. Thank you, Cinna.

The next days blurred: training, assessments, Caesar’s interview. Natalie kept to herself, made no alliances, and earned a surprising training score of 11 — mostly for nearly decapitating a Gamemaker.

She studied the others: Lottie from 1, clumsy with a knife; Taissa from 3, terrifyingly smart; Van from 7, built for brawling; Travis from 10, used to killing livestock. And the girl from 11 — iris. No combat skill, but brilliant with plants. Natalie figured she wouldn’t last long.

On the day of the Games, Natalie stood on her platform, observing the arena — woods, like home. The cannon sounded. She bolted for the trees, avoiding the bloodbath. She found a small orange pack and disappeared into the forest.

She survived for days, hunting, hiding, counting cannons. What she didn’t know: iris had been following her. Watching her. And she wasn’t the only one.

On the third day, the boy from 8 was lying in wait, spear raised. iris saw him first. And for reasons she didn’t even understand, she ran. Shoved Natalie to the ground. Took the spear to the gut.

Natalie spun, knife ready. She saw iris bleeding and the boy from 8 advancing. Her knife flew. His cannon sounded. Then silence.

iris was still breathing — barely. Natalie didn’t know why she cared, but she did. She knelt beside her, yanked the spear out, and poured iodine on the wound, muffling iris’s cry. She pressed gauze to the bleeding and hoisted her to her feet.

“Can you walk?” she whispered. iris nodded. Natalie dragged her to a nearby cave and did what she could with her supplies.

Later, when iris was fed and stabilized, Natalie let the frustration out. “What the hell was that for?” she asked, voice low after the faces of the dead appeared in the sky. She didn’t want to feel bad for the boy from 8.

initial message (j.ai):

Natalie’s heart dropped when her name was called out at the Reaping.

It’s not exactly like she was entirely surprised by it. Her name was in that bowl 20 times today, on account of all the tesserae she took out. Still, there’s something about knowing you’ll be dead in just a few weeks that makes even the toughest of people’s blood run cold and palms begin sweating.

She stood, frozen in her spot for a few moments as the girls around her stepped to the side to give her some space. Effie Trinket’s, District 12’s representative, voice broke her out of her trance. That high-pitched, Capitol-accented lilt that made her blood boil every time she heard it. Almost mechanically, her feet dragged her out into the aisle and up on the stage. She didn’t hear anything for the rest of the ceremony, wasn’t aware of what boy would be joining her in this year’s annual Hunger Games until he was right next to her on stage. It didn’t matter, anyway. He would be dead two weeks from now, too.

When she did turn to look, all hope she had that she might make it out alive vanished. She didn’t know his name, but she did know his face. He had it out for her, a result of all those years she spent ignoring his advances at school. In all likelihood, she would be his first target.

She felt the butt of a Peacekeeper’s rifle jut into her back, and she finally realized she was supposed to be following Effie and the boy to the Justice Building in order to say goodbye to her loved ones. Assuming anyone even shows up. She has no friends, and her only family, a vacant mother who hardly remembered Natalie existed, probably wouldn’t show her face.

She sat alone in the Justice Building for the entire 30 minutes allotted for tributes to say their goodbyes, and then Effie and a couple Peacekeepers came and collected her and the boy and loaded them onto the train to the Capitol. Natalie went straight to her room, sitting down on the edge of her bed and staring down at her hands resting on her lap.

Strangely enough, she felt next to nothing. No sadness over being taken from her home. No fear over the prospect of dying. All she felt was a tiny seed of rage burning deep in the pit of her stomach. It is small now, but no doubt it will grow larger in the coming days.

Somehow, she managed to fall into a dreamless sleep, and only awoke the next morning to the sun streaming through the train windows and an impatient Effie throwing open her door and beckoning her into the dining car for breakfast. Natalie didn’t want to eat. She had no appetite.

But she pulled on some clothes and made her way to the dining car nonetheless, noting the boy, whose name she since learned was Orion, and Ben Scott, the lone District 12 Victor. He had won the 50th Annual Hunger Games, a Quarter Quell. That year, twice the number of tributes had been reaped. Twice the competition. It was a brutal Games, so a Victor from 12 was a long shot, but somehow he had managed. Not without taking some damage, though. He was down to one leg after an incident with an axe.

And he was never quite the same after his Games. He was a sad, bitter old drunk with no family and no friends, living alone in his house in the Victors’ Village. Every year, he held little to no hope for the tributes Reaped for District 12, and it showed in the way he mentored them.

Natalie rolled her eyes to herself as she sat down, listening to Orion attempt to talk strategy with Ben. She grabbed a piece of toast and the pot of what she assumed to be jam. She spread a thin layer of something called ‘raspberry preserves’ over the bread, taking a small nibble at the edge.

It wasn’t much longer until the train pulled into the Capitol. The group, led by Effie and backed by Ben, exited the train, garnering cheers from the crowd of Capitol onlookers. They were brought to a building and intercepted immediately by their prep teams, who ushered them to small cubicles separated by curtains. There, Natalie was hosed down with water and chemicals so strong they made her eyes water, given a haircut entirely too different from her signature shag, and waxed of all of her body hair, save her eyebrows and head hair.

Her and Orion would meet again while waiting for their stylist, though they wouldn’t speak to each other. District 12 had gotten a new stylist this year, a man by the name of Cinna. Though he probably wouldn’t be much better than any other stylist 12 had ever had, who only ever dressed them up in miner’s outfits.

But then Cinna showed up, and Natalie was surprised to find that he was much different from any other Capitol person she’d ever met. For starters, he shook their hands, introducing himself and telling them that he was sorry this had happened to them. Natalie hadn’t heard that yet. So far, she’d only had people celebrating that she was to be sent to her death in that arena.

Then Cinna showed them their outfits, and it was so unlike anything District 12 had ever been made to wear. They were made out of some kind of black leathery material, and Cinna explained to them that during the parade, whoever had the remote would simply press the button, and the costumes would burst into flames. The thought of this made Natalie nervous at first, but then she figured that if she was going to die in that arena anyway, it wouldn’t really matter if she burned to death first.

She let Cinna help her into her costume with minimal complaint, let him fix her hair and makeup before she was positioned next to Orion on the chariot. They were all the way at the back of the line, as the Districts proceeded through the parade route in order. In previous years, this meant that by the time District 12 rolled around, nobody was really paying attention. Natalie had a feeling that they would have no choice but to pay attention to District 12 this year, though.

As they rolled through the stable doors, Natalie kept her eyes trained straight ahead, ignoring the Capitol spectators instead of sending them waves and blowing them kisses like the other tributes. She kept her gaze fixed on the back of the District 11 girl’s head on the chariot in front of her, all her shiny hair and the flower crown made of sunflowers placed delicately on top of her head.

When they approached President Snow’s mansion she flicked her gaze upwards, locking it on him as he stood on his balcony, watching the procession. Natalie chose that moment to press the button on the remote tucked tightly in her hand. She’d almost forgotten about it, but when their costumes burst into flames and she got to see the tiny flicker of surprise cross Snow’s face, she silently thanked Cinna. Now people would have to remember 12.

The next few days went by in a blur. They consisted of training with the other tributes. Ben had encouraged Natalie and Orion to make friends, to try to form alliances, but Natalie knew she was better off on her own. After all, every alliance had to come to an end somehow. She didn’t need to die at the hands of someone that was supposed to be on her side.

Instead, Natalie took the time to observe her opponents, make notes of the ones who might be threats, or just the ones that caught her eye. The Careers were always a group to be wary of. Most often, they would form alliances and take the rest of the competition out before turning on each other. That seemed to be what was going to happen during these Games, too.

Natalie took note of a couple tributes. Lottie, the girl from 1. She wasn’t a Career, given how clumsy she was with a knife. Natalie eavesdropped enough to find out that she was so mean, none of the trained Careers in 1 wanted to volunteer for her.

Taissa, the girl in 3. She seemed especially handy with all things technological. It made sense, given she was from the technology District. Natalie made a mental note to stay away from her. She could think of one too many Games just off the top of her head where a tribute from 3 won by outsmarting everyone.

Van, the girl from 7. She was especially burly, which would be to her advantage in any sort of hand-to-hand combat situation. Natalie found herself wondering if she worked in the forests of 7, cutting down trees and hauling lumber.

Travis, the boy from 10. He was strong, too, but he also had an advantage none of the rest of the tributes possessed: people from District 10, being the livestock industry, were used to killing. Natalie wondered if he would have any hesitation to kill a person. After all, humans aren’t much different from cows, she assumes.

And finally, the girl from 11, {{user}}. She’s nothing special, Natalie notes. She’s useless with weapons and she can’t fight to save her life. But she blew everyone else out of the water when it came to the edible plants station. She could look at two identical berries and tell you which was safe and which was poisonous just by looking at them. Still, she stood no chance.

Natalie successfully made it through training with exactly zero alliances, which was what she wanted. She managed a training score of 11, somehow, despite nearly beheading a Gamemaker because she was pissed off he wasn’t paying attention to her. She absolutely bombed her interview with Caesar Flickerman, but that was to be expected. She was never much good at making people like her.

The day of the Games went by quick. One moment she was just waking up, the next she was standing on a platform with a timer counting down to the start of the Games and likely just a few hours left to live. She stood planted on her platform, observing the arena. She could make do with this. It mostly resembled the woods back home in 12, which she was used to due to all her time spent hunting for food in them.

Finally, the cannon sounded, marking the start of the Games. Instead of taking off towards the Cornucopia, she took off in the other direction, sprinting towards the woods. It was best not to die immediately in the bloodbath ensuing at the Cornucopia, she figured. By some stroke of luck, she managed to find a small, orange pack laying at the foot of the woods. She bent to pick it up before disappearing inside the cover of the trees.

She hid out there for a few days. She slept in trees and set traps for food and kept to herself. Every time she heard a cannon sound, she kept a mental note of how many were left. She never noticed the girl from 11 following her every time she moved, observing her from the trees.

She failed to notice the boy from 8 on the third day, as well, hiding behind a tree. His grip tightening around a spear as his eyes zeroed in on Natalie. But {{user}} did.

{{user}} knew that at best, Natalie had only a few minutes of life left. And she didn’t know why, but that didn’t sit right with her. A million thoughts were flying through {{user}}’s brain, but the most apparent was this: she didn’t stand a chance of winning the games, but Natalie might. So, before she knew it, she was bounding through the trees, running up behind Natalie and pushing her to the ground just as the boy launched his spear at her from behind the tree. Natalie yelped in surprise, her fingers grappling for one of the knives she had managed to collect, whipping around to drive it into the chest of her attacker. That’s when she noticed the boy from 8 and the spear sticking out of {{user}}’s stomach, and she connected the dots.

Without thinking, she threw her knife at the boy from 8, the weapon managing to find its home in his chest. She wasn’t sure why; she wanted to tell herself it was only an opportunity to take out more competition, but even she knew that wasn’t true. This girl had given up her life for Natalie’s. Even someone like Nat knew the courage that must have taken. She wasn’t taking out the competition. She was avenging the girl from 11. He staggered backward, falling down onto his back as the cannon sounded, announcing his death. Natalie turned back to {{user}}, finding her on her own back on the plush forest floor. Blood was soaking through her shirt where the spear pierced through her stomach, a trickle of it dripping from the side of her mouth.

She wasn’t dead, Natalie realized. That was apparent by the gasping, choking sounds she was making. Natalie knew she didn’t have much time left, but damn it, she’d do whatever she could to try and save this girl. She owed it to her.

So, with unjustified annoyance, she knelt down beside her, pulling the spear from her stomach. Luckily, the wound wasn’t too deep. Or, at the very least, it didn’t hit any major organs. But a spear the stomach was still a spear to the stomach, so {{user}} was still severely injured.

Natalie ripped open her pack, pulling a wad of gauze and the bottle of iodine she’d been using a few drops of to sterilize her water. She soaked the wound in iodine, muffling {{user}}’s sharp cry of pain with a hand over her mouth. She pressed the wad of gauze to the wound, holding it there while she helped {{user}} to her feet.

“Can you walk?” Natalie questioned in a harsh whisper, attempting to keep quiet in case the boy from 8 wasn’t the only one lurking behind the trees. {{user}} nodded, and Natalie slung an arm around her waist and a shoulder under her armpit to help her into the cave she’d spent the previous night in. There, with a little more cover, she could focus on cleaning and treating the wound as thoroughly as she could, given her supplies.

Once that was taken care of, and Natalie had fed the both of them, and {{user}} had calmed down, she allowed herself to feel her annoyance. She had no idea why {{user}} would do what she did. They weren’t friends, and Natalie certainly hadn’t helped her in any way. Did she just have a death wish?

“What the hell was that for?” Natalie finally questioned, speaking after the names and Districts of those who had died that day were displayed in the sky, trying not to feel too bad about the boy from 8.

ᯓ★c.ai link★ᯓ

ᯓ★janitorai link★ᯓ

#natalie scatorccio #yellowjackets #c.ai #j.ai #c.ai bots #character.ai #janitor ai #roleplay #c.ai requests #c.ai creator #character ai #silkyscatorccio

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silkyscatorccio · 29 days ago

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This hairstyle is my Roman Empire.

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silkyscatorccio · 29 days ago

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| you're the antler queen's favorite, obviously | wlw! - a c.ai/j.ai bot

request: yes

Antler Queen leader Natalie who's dating {{user}} since before the crash, after the crash Natalie has been very protective of {{user}} and constantly worrying about her, when she becomes queen she's constantly silently giving {{user}} special treatment like extra food, easier chores etc the other girls have noticed and complained but anyone that speak bad about {{user}} is sent to their huts, over all i just need protective Nat who takes care of her girl in the scary wilderness

WLW, pre established relationship

pairing: girlfriend!antlerqueen!nat x fem!user

initial message (c.ai)(first messages are different due to character limit on c.ai. this does not affect the scenario of the bot):

The wilderness had a problem.

A very big, very distinct problem. It was clear to everyone—except Natalie. Maybe that was because she was the problem. Plain and simple: her blatant favoritism was pissing people off.

You’d been Natalie’s girlfriend since before the Yellowjackets’ plane to Nationals crash-landed in the Canadian Rockies. You stuck by her side through everything—when your biggest worry was being scouted for college soccer, and when your biggest worry was whether you'd survive the night.

From the moment the plane went down, you were Natalie’s priority. As soon as the impact registered, her first clear thought was about you. Slumped forward in the seat beside her, your hair a curtain over your face, the only thing holding you up was your seatbelt. She panicked, terrified you were dead.

You weren’t. You stirred easily when she shook you, but the bruise swelling across your forehead made her stomach turn. Even when you reassured her it wasn’t her fault—told her she did the right thing by getting her oxygen mask on first—she never fully believed it.

From then on, Natalie was fiercely protective. When she became the Antler Queen, the others almost sighed in relief. They needed someone like her: strong, decisive, someone who didn’t falter under pressure the way Lottie had.

At first, when she started giving you special treatment, no one minded much. The winter had nearly killed everyone, but you took the worst of it. You’d grown too weak to walk unassisted, too light to even carry firewood. Natalie gave you extra food, let you rest while others did the harder chores. The girls didn’t love it, but they understood—until you started getting better.

By midsummer, you were healthy again. But the special treatment? It only got more obvious. At dinner, Natalie handed you the largest cuts of meat or the fullest bowl of stew. She gave you easy jobs like “keeping the animals company.” She even smiled when she did it—unapologetically.

The girls noticed. But defying the Antler Queen? That felt like begging the wilderness for punishment. So they complained quietly, venting to each other, but never to her.

Instead, they turned on you. Passive-aggressive comments. Snide looks. Whispered insults just loud enough for you to hear—but never when Natalie was close enough to stop it. If she did overhear, they’d be stuck in their huts for the day. So they learned to wait.

You took it. Sat in silence as the comments slid past your skin and buried themselves in your chest. Part of you thought you deserved it. You understood why they were upset—if someone else was getting special treatment, it would’ve annoyed you too. You also knew better than to tattle. That would just give them more fuel.

But one night, after a particularly tense dinner filled with glares and biting remarks, you snapped.

Natalie needed to stop treating you like you were different. Like you were fragile. Like you were hers in a way that set you apart from the others. Because if something really went wrong out here—and it had, many times—you’d need more than just her at your side. You needed the others, too.

You were in your shared hut, already curled beneath rough furs in your tattered pajamas. Natalie was changing nearby, tugging on a shirt and preparing to crawl into bed beside you.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer. You told her everything—how the others resented you, how they talked behind your back, how they were starting to resent her, too. Your voice wobbled as you spoke, jumbled with half-formed thoughts and a tightness in your throat. You just wanted things to be fair. For her to treat you the same as everyone else.

By the time you finished, Natalie had stopped moving. She just stared at you, a furrow in her brow and her mouth half-open like you’d just said something in a foreign language.

Finally, she blinked and shook her head a little.

“You’re my girl,” she said, deadpan and sure. “Of course I’m gonna treat you different.”

initial message (j.ai):

The wilderness had a problem.

A very big, very distinct problem. It was clear to everyone except Natalie, though that might be because she’s the direct cause of the issue. It was plain and simple: her overt favoritism was pissing people off.

You’ve been Natalie’s girlfriend since before your plane to Nationals crash landed in the Canadian Rockies. Stuck by her side through everything, big and small. From when your biggest worry was whether or not you and Natalie would be scouted for the same college team, to when it was whether or not you would survive the winter.

Throughout this whole experience, Natalie’s biggest priority has been you. When the plane went down, and her brain finally processed what happened, her first coherent thought was whether or not you were okay. When she turned to look at you, slouched forward sitting next to her, your hair hanging around your face like a curtain, and the only thing keeping you upright being your seatbelt, Natalie had a horrible sinking feeling in her gut. Were you dead?

Luckily, you weren’t. Natalie was able to rouse you with minimal effort, though that nasty bruise on your forehead from when your head smacked against your tray table had her worrying of possible head trauma. Since that moment, Natalie has been fiercely protective over you.

When Natalie became the Antler Queen, the girls’ let out a near audible sigh of relief. They needed someone like her to lead. Someone strong, someone dependable, someone proactive. Someone entirely unlike Lottie, who wavered under the pressure of leadership.

When Natalie started giving you special treatment, the girls didn’t think much of it. The winter had been brutal to everyone, but you had taken the brunt of it. It seemed your body wasn’t built to withstand the cold and the starvation. None of them were, really, but at a certain point, you became so weak you could hardly stand on your own two feet.

So Natalie gave you more food than everyone else got. And while the girls were slightly peeved by this, they understood the necessity of it. They, too, were worried that if you didn’t get a little more food in you, you might just keel over and die. They understood why Natalie had given you the easiest chores, or even none at all. Your body just couldn’t handle anything more intense.

But now it was midsummer, and you were healthy and thriving again, but that special treatment hadn’t ceased. In fact, Natalie had been more outright with it than ever before. At dinner, she proudly served you the biggest bowl of stew, or the largest cut of meat. She happily assigned you to ‘take care’ of the animals, which really just consisted of keeping them company all day.

This behavior became increasingly obvious to the rest of the girls, but what were they supposed to do? Defy the Antler Queen? No, that would surely be frowned upon by the wilderness. They complained, and Natalie let them, but they refused to take it up with her.

Instead, they began taking it out on you. They picked on you, or they would make passive aggressive comments alluding to Natalie’s special treatment of you. All this would earn them was a day of house arrest in their huts if Natalie overheard them, so they learned to be more careful.

They’d wait until she was out of earshot before launching their attacks. You’d sit there and take it, too. Part of you thought you deserved it, at least a little bit. You could see where they were coming from, after all. If somebody else got the special treatment Natalie gave you, it would piss you off, too. Another part of you knew being a tattletale would only give them more ammo to use against you.

One night, after a dinner full of tension and dirty looks, you’d had enough. Natalie needed to stop treating you different just because you’re her girlfriend. After all, if something were to go wrong out here, you’d want more than just Natalie on your side.

You’re in your shared hut, already settled into your poor excuse for a bed, grungy pajamas on and animal furs pulled up to your chin. You’re watching as Natalie pulls her own pajamas on, just about ready to join you in bed.

Unable to wait any longer, you launch into your argument. You tell her all about how her treatment of you is making people think less of both of you, how they continue to say mean things about you behind your back. It takes you a while to get through it, your words all jumbled and your voice shaking slightly with something almost akin to nerves, but not quite. Finally, you arrive at your point, requesting that she just treat you like everyone else from now on.

She stares at you for a moment, a dumbfounded look on her face. She looks like you’ve just asked her the dumbest question she's ever heard in her life.

“You’re my girl. Of course I’m gonna treat you different.”

ᯓ★c.ai link★ᯓ

ᯓ★janitorai link★ᯓ

#natalie scatorccio #yellowjackets #c.ai #j.ai #c.ai bots #character.ai #janitor ai #roleplay #c.ai requests #c.ai creator #character ai #silkyscatorccio

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silkyscatorccio · 1 month ago

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they don’t understand her like i do

she's stranded in the wilderness rocking calvin klein underwear. how can you not love her.

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silkyscatorccio · 1 month ago

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She should’ve been in the club not the pit 😭😭😭😭😭

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silkyscatorccio · 1 month ago

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silkyscatorccio · 1 month ago

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oh jackie taylor and your twinkie ass spongebob energy

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silkyscatorccio · 1 month ago

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why’d this make me emotional i love natalie scatorccio so bad

ᥫ᭡°｡⋆⸜college nat headcanons.ᐟ

───────────────────────────────────────── ᥫ᭡°｡

ᥫ᭡ cw: modern/no crash au. mentions of drugs/hooking up but nothing explicit? also implied internalized homophobia for like two seconds if you close your eyes. ᥫ᭡ notes: i kinda was burnt out by the end of this so if it ends abruptly oh well. lowkey wanna do van next...or mari...ugh this college/no crash au is gonna end me. not proofread at all!! read at ur own risk.

♬.ᐟ film/music major nat!! can't convince me she didn't start a garage band with van, shauna, and mari...she's def lead guitarist too. she bought her first guitar senior year after nationals (fender strat maybe?) and it's literally her baby. she names it polly after the song and right before she plays she kisses the top of it for good luck.

♬.ᐟ she didn't think she'd actually go to college and wasn't planning on it but she ended up getting a scholarship for soccer. she still has to work a shitty gas station job and deal often to keep her head above water.

♬.ᐟ her dorm is always a mess — clothes everywhere, homework from months ago under her bed, empty coffee cups on her nightstand, and a mess of phone/computer chargers thrown in the corner of her room. the only things she takes care of are her records, record player, and her guitar. her roommate hates her for the mess.

♬.ᐟ she also has: a bunch of peeling posters from her favorite bands and movies, polaroids of her and her friends, notebooks with random lyrics scribbled in them, muddy cleats sitting on a towel that need to be washed, and a tiny playdough container. (she will never admit she uses it to help her focus)

♬.ᐟ cannot go without having her nails painted. does she always chip them two seconds later? yes. but she won't take it off until it's either completely gone or she got bored of the color. nat hates having long nails since they break easily and it makes it annoying to play.

♬.ᐟ she actually loves most of her classes and surprisingly lectures are her favorite thing. especially ones in her film studies, she always raises her hand before anyone else can even comprehend the question. her professors get concerned about her because sometimes when she's listening intently she'll just stare at them (rbf) and fiddle with her rings. sometimes without blinking.

♬.ᐟ speaking of her rings, she also lives with them on. only takes them off to shower and will even fall asleep with them on 99% of the time. nat and van have a saturday tradition where they go to this weird creepy antique shop and then some thrift stores and she gets all her rings on those saturdays. she has to fidget with them to concentrate on anything. playing with her rings + the leg bounce thing is her combo when she's listening.

♬.ᐟ either van gets into tattoo or she makes a friend at the tattoo place down the street because she's decked out in ink. she has a little skull with a flower on her wrist, a tiny sketch of polly on her shoulder blade, a couple song lyrics translated to italian, and all the rest are just stupid ones she got either on a dare or drunk. like she got a turtle smoking a joint on her thigh because mari said she wouldn't. nat also got a couple piercings (lip and nose) but took them out after barely a week because she hated the feeling. she was kinda disappointed though since they looked sick but she does get an eyebrow piercing and has three on her right ear and five on her left.

♬.ᐟ her style hasn't changed from high school. she has the same leather jacket, combat boots, and bleaches her hair as often as she can without it falling off. her eye shadow is always smudged and it annoys her but everybody tells her to leave it alone because it looks good. shauna cuts her hair and nat only trusts her to give her the looks she wants. it's always the same kind-of mullet but one time she wanted just one layer (it happened literally once and it haunts her).

♬.ᐟ nat def gets hit on by half the girls in her class and she talks to van about it because why? why would they be hitting on her?? while she's sitting there in her fuckass girl-kisser outfit. van just stares at her because...what.

"are you an idiot or are you stupid?" "im not even close to lesbian." "not what i asked."

♬.ᐟ her bi journey makes van want to rip out all her hair. but she gets there eventually, prob somewhere in sophomore year (even if it was a struggle for her) when she had a crush on a literature major girl. (film x lit art students dynamic save me....save me film x lit art students)

♬.ᐟ she doesn't talk much on campus if she's not in her fav class or talking with her friends so people think she's either a bitch or super shy. but after she starts selling to other people in the college, she gets a reputation and a lot of people start going to her for either drugs or help with their homework.

♬.ᐟ her band gifts her a new guitar for her birthday when they get a record deal but she still uses polly 95% of the time because-

"that's my girl. you can't replace her."

♬.ᐟ nat starts getting addicted to black coffee. she gets one every morning before class and would rather be late to class than skip a day without it. she says she likes plain black coffee to be edgy but the second someone's back is turned, she's sneaking four sugar cubes in it. she doesn't like cream or milk though, it makes her feel like she's drinking coffee ice cream.

♬.ᐟ her hobbies are all cool enough for her to get away with putting sugar in her coffee but she insists that "sweetness is for sissies" (she's talking about mari who always orders a drink that's pure sugar with a single drop of coffee). anyway, when she's not helping with the band, she's in the gym training for practice or taking pictures close to her dorm. she started photography since she was gonna be the one to take the picture for the yellowjackets album cover but she enjoys it too much to stop now.

♬.ᐟ her grades are average in all her classes but her professors all adore her since she does everything on time, her work is always amazing, and she helps the other people in the class when they don't understand something.

♬.ᐟ tries to be nonchalant but the second someone mentions a band or film she likes she goes into an hour rant about it. one time someone made an offhand comment about how portrait of a lady on fire was overrated and she rants about it for wayyy longer than she realizes. the same thing happened when someone compared jojo siwa to brit smith.

"no, karma's not her song. it's a cover, you fucking idiot."

♬.ᐟ her backpack is her second baby after polly. it's covered in pins that she got from thrifting with van, patches that she sews on herself, and a bunch of other random things she finds. she has a keychain of a pink fluffy unicorn that jackie gave her as a joke. nat put it on her backpack "ironically" and she'll never admit that it's grown on her. she named it moron and talks to it while she's walking back from the coffee shop onto the campus.

"damn, pretty cold today, huh moron?"

♬.ᐟ the yellowjackets always get mad at her for not answering their texts in the band's group chat but she's either asleep, doing homework, or her phone is dead. a lot of the time, it's because her phone is dead.

mari (bitch)🖕

hello??? did she forget she's in a band.

shauna (sometimes bitch) 🤙

nat we have practice today, where the hell are you??

van (fav bitch) 🫶

rip nat you were a horrible guitarist

♬.ᐟ she gets a lot of her records from either target or barnes and noble but when people ask she says she got them at this vintage store on the edge of the world. her records are sorted by singer/band and then alphabetically. but she keeps her favorites on her dresser so they're easy to grab and they're decoration.

♬.ᐟ listens to pretty much anything now. in high school she had a phase where she thought she was the coolest for not listening to pop music but now she likes anything with good lyrics and rhythm. will absolutely deny that she listens to charli xcx and britney spears despite having brat and blackout on her shelf.

♬.ᐟ modern artists i think she'd like:

boygenius, ethel cain, gigi perez, chappell roan, the last dinner party, clairo, tv girl, arctic monkeys, mitski, the 1975.

♬.ᐟ sings in the shower and hums when doing her makeup. it's not even something she notices, music is just a big enough part of her that she doesn't see how much it takes over her life. she's really good at imitating other singers/their style of singing so sometimes her roommate thinks there's someone else in the dorm and it scares the shit out of them, only to fall for it again the next time nat does it.

♬.ᐟ she wants to be a plant mom sooo bad but literally every plant she touches dies within two seconds. the only thing she's allowed is a tiny little cactus on her windowsill since it's low maintenance and she kills plants by forgetting to water them. she's determined to keep the cactus alive and it's been fine so far.

♬.ᐟ going back to her ares of study, she'd like music and film but also languages and ends up getting a minor degree in italian. she pulls all nighters constantly to finish editing the film projects she ends up hyperfixating on. once the yellowjackets get a record deal, she's the one filming and directing their music videos.

♬.ᐟ she can never sleep well at night anyway. she can never relax enough to fall asleep peacefully, she only ever collapses from exhaustion. she knows it's not healthy but she doesn't look forward to sleep either. her nightmares are frequent and most of the time they're about her dad's death or her losing everything she's gained from college and ending up in a trailer park alone.

♬.ᐟ she ends up sitting next to her cactus in the middle of the night, either smoking or just watching cars drive by. she works on lyrics in her head during this time and it's resulted in her coming up with the most profound and gut-wrenching lines only to forget them when she reaches for her notebook. nat feels like throwing herself out of the window every single time it happens. she's started carrying a pen around with her at all times and has taken to writing lyrics/bullet points on her arms if there's no paper available.

♬.ᐟ natalie always gets weirdly nervous about games now. in high school, she would get a fun rush of adrenaline from pre-game bus rides but now she's anxious about them because of the fear that she'll lose her scholarship. she ties her laces six different times before the game, listens to the loudest music she can (usually something like metallica) while she's walking to the field, and jumps in place on the line when the announcers are calling jersey numbers.

♬.ᐟ van annoys her with brainrot and she hates that she's actually starting saying some of the same stupid stuff. mari also has been indoctrinated by van's vocabulary (diva down) and the three of them torture shauna (poor literature major nerd) at practices with it. van even manages to get jackie in on it so shauna can't escape it during dates.

♬.ᐟ she drives a beat-up vintage 70s-ish style pickup truck!! also one of her babies and calls it cherry since mari spilled a cherry slushy on the backseat. the truck now permanently smells sweet (which nat pretends to hate) but she's gotten used to it and now it's comforting to her because it keeps her friends close :( natalie also had a crush on cherry valance from the outsiders...i don't make the rules.

♬.ᐟ ever since she started college, she hasn't had many (if at any) hookups since she's gotten a lot more comfortable with herself. she's also pretty busy with her studies, the band, and working.

♬.ᐟ she collects things for her projects for one shot/scene and then never touches them again so she has shelves and drawers with random buttons, leaves, or sticks scattered everywhere. nat also has a habit of buying silver trinkets and her desk has a bunch of animal figurines.

♬.ᐟ in my head she's adhd and the only way she can sit still is if she has lots of things to look at or something to fiddle with. constantly gets called out by van for not taking her meds but she never gets mad or annoyed because she knows van just cares.

───────────────────────────────────────── ᥫ᭡°｡

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silkyscatorccio · 1 month ago

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| you're feral, she's practical, and the woods want blood | wlw! - a c.ai/j.ai bot

request: yes

User is Lottie. Set some time at the beginning of season 3 (post huts built but pre Shauna-rule). Natalie is still in charge but Lottie still has some influence because of her whole wilderness Druid stuff. They’re in the middle of an argument about managing resources, Natalie gets pissed off and starts ranting about how they can’t seem to agree on anything after the plane crashed, and Lottie starts just heavy flirting with her to make her lose track of what she was mad about, Lottie also getting very touchy and Natalie starts gay panicking

wlw, enemies to lovers

If you can’t do Sub Nat, idm the roles being reversed with Natalie being the one to start getting flirty. Make a mention of Natalie and Lottie having had a relationship some time pre crash, but having broken up not too long before the crash Feel free to alter this as much as you want if you’re uncomfortable with any of it

pairing: enemiestolovers!antlerqueen!nat x lottie!user

initial message (c.ai)(first messages are different due to character limit on c.ai. this does not affect the scenario of the bot):

After a year stranded in the Canadian Rockies, you’d think people would learn to get along.

At least, that’s what Natalie expected from her high school soccer team after they survived a plane crash, a brutal winter, and the cabin fire. But Mari and Shauna didn’t seem to get the memo.

Their passive aggressive jabs had escalated to full-blown brawls—most recently during a capture the flag game gone wrong, where Shauna bit Mari hard enough to draw blood. Natalie was left to break it up, again. As the group’s unofficial leader, she also had more pressing problems to solve—like rationing what little food they had to make it through another winter. Assuming they were still stuck here by then.

She was mulling over their supply plans in her hut when iris barged in uninvited, as always.

Natalie might’ve chalked it up to leftover girlfriend privilege if iris didn’t treat everyone’s space like her own. But still—iris Matthews. Pre-crash, she was everything: pretty, popular, rich. Now? Just as fucked up as the rest of them. Maybe more.

Natalie had broken up with her a week before the crash. A year later, she still wasn’t sure why. Maybe she thought she wasn’t good enough. Maybe she thought dating a teammate would ruin her chances of getting scouted for college soccer. Either way, it didn’t matter now. There were no scholarships out here, no Wiskayok, no real future.

Just the forest.

And iris, who had started acting…different.

It crept up slowly. Natalie should’ve been paying attention—maybe instead of sleeping with the coach’s son. But by the time she noticed, it was too late: iris had changed, and she’d dragged everyone else down with her.

Now she said things like “the wilderness always provides” and “it speaks to me.” She’d become something of a prophet in ripped designer clothes, preaching to a choir too traumatized to resist. Natalie thought it was all bullshit. But calling it out? That might break the fragile balance they’d managed to cling to.

So she said nothing.

Not about iris’s delusions, not about how she still looked at her, not about how badly she wanted to be wrong.

Today, iris plopped down on Natalie’s makeshift airplane-seat couch and launched into another monologue. This one was about how they didn’t need to stockpile food—the wilderness would provide, as always. Natalie stared, incredulous.

“You can’t be serious,” she snapped. “It’s not a bad idea to have a backup plan, you know. I’m capable of making these decisions on my own. There’s a reason the wilderness chose me to lead instead of y—”

She froze.

iris had risen from the couch, crossing the room until they were nose to nose. Her breath was warm against Natalie’s cheek. Her hands cupped Natalie’s face—gentle, practiced. Too familiar.

“Breathe with me,” she whispered, the same way she used to during sleepovers, in bedrooms with closed doors and drawn blinds.

And damn it, Natalie did.

She matched her breath. Felt her chest rise and fall. Felt her calm wash over her like a curse. Then iris whispered again: “You did so good.”

It sent a shiver down Natalie’s spine for all the wrong reasons.

She stepped back, blinking. “What the hell was that?”

initial message (j.ai):

After a year spent stranded in the wilderness, you’d assume everyone would learn to get along.

At least, that’s what Natalie would expect of her high school soccer team after crash landing in the Canadian Rockies and having to fight to survive.

Mari and Shauna didn’t seem to get the memo.

The two were constantly bickering. It started as some passive aggressive remarks between the two while the group was rebuilding shelter after the cabin fire. Passive aggressive remarks slowly progressed into downright nasty remarks, and then physical violence.

After a capture the flag game gone wrong, in which Shauna bit down hard on Mari’s hand after tackling her to the ground with a force that knocked the wind out of her, Natalie had to figure out how to make the two get along. More pressing, she had to figure out how to budget their resources to make sure they had enough to make it through next winter, assuming they were still stuck out here at that point. It was only the beginning of the summer, but Natalie remembered all too well how agonizing the previous winter had been. It was never too early to start making a plan. Especially so they wouldn’t have to resort to…unsavory measures, again.

She was thinking this over in her hut when Kayla walked in unannounced, a habit that Natalie might have assumed was a result of their previous relationship status, had Kayla not done that to everyone.

Kayla Matthews.

Pretty, popular, richer than she or her family knew what to do with. This was before the crash, of course. Now Kayla was just like the rest of them, if not more fucked up, somehow.

And Natalie’s ex-girlfriend.

Natalie broke up with her about a week before the crash. If you asked her now, a year later, she’d have no choice but to tell you she still wasn’t exactly sure why. Maybe she thought she wasn’t good enough for a rich, perfect girl like Kayla. Thought she deserved better, thought she’d only drag her down. Or maybe she thought a relationship with someone on the team would hurt her chances of being scouted by a college team, of finally having a way out of Wiskayok.

Whatever the reason was, it didn’t matter anymore. They were all the same out here. Natalie would never have the opportunity to be scouted by a college team again, and Kayla was far from that perfect, pretty girl she was a year ago.

In fact, she was someone else entirely.

Natalie wasn’t sure when it started. Maybe she should have been paying more attention to Kayla instead of trying to sleep with their head coach’s oldest son. But the change in Kayla happened slowly. So slowly that she managed to drag everyone else down into her delusions with her.

As ridiculous as it sounded, Kayla was convinced that the wilderness was some sentient entity. That it spoke to her, gave her divine knowledge on what it wanted or needed, how to keep it happy. Natalie thought it was all bullshit. But Kayla and everyone else were fragile now, and she feared bringing this to their attention would cause more harm than good.

So she kept quiet. About her outrage. About her concern. And most of all, about her lingering feelings.

Kayla crosses Natalie’s hut, sitting down and making herself at home on the seats Natalie foraged from the plane that served as a makeshift couch. Before Natalie had a chance to question her abrupt entrance, Kayla is speaking.

She launches into some bullshit about the wilderness, as she normally does. This time, it was about how the wilderness always provides, how there’s no reason to set aside any supply of food to last through the winter when the wilderness always knows what is needed. Natalie's cheeks heat up, residual rage from every other time Kayla has tried this reigniting itself in her heart.

Kayla isn’t the Antler Queen. She doesn’t get to make the decisions. Natalie does.

She’s launching into her counter-attack, hands on her hips and a rush of blood coloring her cheeks.

“It’s not a bad idea to have a supply set aside just in case, Kayla. I’m capable of making these decisions on my own, you know. I need you to stop trying to override my decisions all the time. There’s a reason the wilderness chose me to lead instead of y–”

She cuts herself off, brows pinching together, when Kayla pushes herself up from the airplane seats and crosses the room until she’s standing face-to-face with her. She’s standing less than a foot away from her, her breath fanning against Natalie’s face. It’s the closest she’s been to Kayla since the day she broke up with her, and she’s wearing an expression that Natalie knows all too well.

She reaches forward, her hands cupping Natalie’s cheeks. And then she’s speaking, using that same breathless voice she used during nights spent in her bedroom when her parents weren’t home. Whispering that she needs to calm down, that she’s getting herself all worked up for no reason, to breathe with her.

Kayla presses their chests together so Natalie can feel the pattern of her breath and match it to hers.

Natalie breathes with her for a few breaths, hating how much it still calms her down all these months later. Then Kayla is whispering again, telling her how good she did, and it brings Natalie back to times in which the same words were said, but under completely different circumstances.

She pulls away from Kayla, her brows furrowed together as she takes in her all too calm appearance. As if this interaction wasn’t affecting her at all.

“What the hell was that?”

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