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turneradora · 11 days

Text

Here is the written transcription of the new article of The Times magazine.

Published today on September 14th.

Thanks to Emma Jones 🙏👍🌺

Thanks to IsaDemrio for her edit

INTERVIEW with CAITLIN MORAN

Jilly Cooper’s raunchy Rivals: ‘You will see a lot of willies’

It’s taken 36 years, but finally Jilly Cooper’s legendary bonkbuster Rivals is on TV. Caitlin Moran — who was such a fan, she changed her name to one of the book’s characters — meets the author and stars on set and asks: how was it for you?

Guess where I am.

Oh my gosh — I am in RUTSHIRE.

If you own one of the multimillion copies sold of Jilly Cooper’s infamous Rutshire Chronicles books, you will a) be as excited as me, and b) know exactly where I am.

Yes, I am standing in front of a beautiful, honey-coloured mansion.

Yes, it is a beautiful summer’s day.

Yes, the herbaceous borders are magnificent.

Yes, there are adorable dogs milling around.

Yes, there are champagne bottles strewn hither and yon.

And yes, everyone is dressed in alternately fabulous, or ridiculous, Eighties outfits, with gigantic hair.

The ladies have electric-blue eyeshadow and golden, heaving bosoms.

The men, meanwhile, have tanned legs, huge Rolexes — and, in many instances, their gigantic hair manifests lower down: in moustaches like that of Tom Selleck.

And yes, of course, there is drama. David Tennant — wearing a lavish, gold, silken man-blouse and sucking on a cigar — is furious. He is savaging a roomful of party people, all looking stricken — and all, incongruously, wearing swimwear.

“How the f*** has this happened?” Tennant screams, as all the tits and legs fidget, gaudy piña coladas abandoned. “Get the f*** out there and sort this out! And why are you all wearing bikinis?”

Tennant storms from the room, apoplectic with rage — and then sees me.

“Oh, hello, darling,” he says, all sweetness and light.

“CUT!” the director calls.

Today, David Tennant isn’t, of course, David Tennant. He’s Tony Baddingham, the infamous, nominative-determinist baddie of Jilly Cooper’s Rivals.

“So, is this fun?” I ask him.

The last time I saw him on set, he was being the Doctor in Doctor Who, in a floor-length coat, trying to save the world from being exploded. Again. In the rain. In Wales. At 1am.

“Oh yes,” Tennant says. “I mean, look at my blouse. It’s like my aunt’s! Actually, I think it might be hers — it closes right to left. Don’t men’s buttons close left to right? Am I wearing,” he asks the room at large, “a woman’s blouse?”

“We need to go again, David,” the director says.

“Back in a tick,” Tennant says, running back on set, sucking on his cigar. Getting ready to be really evil, and Eighties, again.

Going back — to Rutshire.

Since Riders, the first volume of the Rutshire Chronicles, was published in 1985 — soaring straight to the top of the charts and eventually selling more than one million copies — Jilly Cooper has been the unassailable queen of the English bonkbuster.

While Shirley Conran’s Lace and Jackie Collins’ Hollywood Wives might have rivalled Cooper for sales, Cooper’s books are particularly well thumbed and beloved by their devotees because, underneath all the shagging and scandal, there’s something incredibly English and wholesome about them. Yes, there are villains, and orgies, and boardroom shenanigans — but just as much space is taken up by descriptions of scrumptious shepherd’s pies, heavenly rose gardens, darling horses and adorable dogs. And yes, the words used are “scrumptious”, “heavenly”, “darling” and “adorable” — the Cooper lexicon is heavy on delighted adjectives.

I meet countless people — actually, let’s be honest here: women; it’s women who are Cooper fans — who read these books as teenagers and had their lives changed by them. If you were in some boring suburb, or council house, reading about these relatably flawed English characters — all smoking; getting “tight” during long, boozy lunches; worrying about sweat patches on their cashmere dresses; gossiping; fighting their way through the class system; decorating beautiful houses; falling in love; and making endless puns and jokes — it all seemed a far more appealing, and possibly achievable, depiction of adulthood than the rather grim ones being peddled by Roth, Updike or Amis.

There are now at least two generations of women who, technically, emotionally, grew up not in Wolverhampton or Glasgow — but Rutshire.

This is why, in many ways, it seems strange it’s taken so long for the Rutshire Chronicles to make it to TV. Yes, there was a made-for-TV movie adaptation of Riders, back in 1993 — but Cooper fans don’t talk about that. At the time, “The acting appears to be from a Gold Blend advert,” was the kindest review.

No, it has taken until 2024 for someone to take on the task, drum up an incredible cast — David Tennant, Alex Hassell, Aidan Turner, Danny Dyer, Katherine Parkinson, Emily Atack — and persuade Disney, of all people, to cough up for all the mansions, helicopters, dogs, champagne and shoulder pads necessary to bring Dame Jilly Cooper’s beloved, fun, shagging Rutshire to life. A place as mythic to the British imagination as Narnia, the Hundred Acre Wood or the Brontës’ moors — but with, obviously, a lot more banging.

“Honestly, people thought I was mad,” says Dominic Treadwell-Collins, executive producer of the show. “I’ve been working on this for ten years. No, more — since the year 2000. I’d been a fan of Jilly since I was 20 — and when I got into TV, whenever I was in a meeting I’d say, ‘I want to do Jilly Cooper. I have to get these books on TV.’ And people would just slap their thighs and laugh.”

Treadwell-Collins’ previous projects include a five-year stint on EastEnders — “When we were getting 20 million viewers for the live shows” — and the multi-Bafta-winning A Very English Scandal, directed by Stephen Frears and starring Hugh Grant and Ben Whishaw.

But now, he still looks puzzled at the mocking reaction Jilly Cooper caused. “I could never understand it. I genuinely think Jilly Cooper is the Jane Austen of our times. These are the books people will study, in the future, when they want to understand what the Eighties were like. Jilly comes across as fluffy and lovely — but she’s got a steely eye when it comes to the sexism, the homophobia, the racism, class. You think it’s all lavish and flirty — and it is — but then, on every third page, she’ll come and kick you in the shins. But every time I pitched it, people would be like, ‘Jilly Cooper? She’s just … a bit naff?’ And it was always men who said it. But I bet if they’d asked their wives, they would say, ‘I LOVE HER! MAKE IT NOW!’ ”

It does seem there is a continual, notable blindness to female audiences. It reminds me of all the fuss around Bridgerton when it first aired. Light romantic fiction — your Mills & Boon, your original Bridgerton books — sells more than any other genre. It sells in tens of millions. But because women buy those books, it’s … ignored. Until, that is, US TV behemoth Shonda Rhimes unexpectedly adapted Bridgerton — and it instantly became Netflix’s biggest hit to that point.

Suddenly, “books read by women” were revealed to be potential TV goldmines.

“Yes,” Treadwell-Collins says. “We are unashamed in wanting to make female viewers happy with this. We want this to become everyone’s favourite show. For it not to be a dirty secret any more that you love Jilly Cooper. We want people running down the street wearing ‘I LOVE JILLY COOPER’ T-shirts. It’s … a rich treat.”

It certainly is a rich treat. I don’t think I’ve ever been on a set where it’s so obvious that the budget is huge.

“We were the last show commissioned in the streaming gold rush,” Treadwell-Collins had said, earlier. “Budgets are very different now.”

There is an emotional support dog on set — of course there is. An ice-cream van turns up at 2pm — burly crew members walk around the grounds eating tiny pink strawberry cones, looking delighted. And, for reasons I never fully discover, someone has a ferret on a lead.

As I wander around the gigantic mansion, I bump into various cast members, who all seem overjoyed to be there.

Claire Rushbrook, who plays Monica Baddingham — Tony Baddingham’s posh, tolerant wife — is in the orangery, having her make-up done, while eating a scone.

“I mean, we are doing acting,” she says. “I want to make that clear. But … it is also enormous fun.”

The comedian and actress Emily Atack — playing the irrepressibly titty Sarah Stratton — is lounging on a love seat, in an orange kimono, stroking the emotional support dog. She has spent most of this day wearing nothing but a bikini.

“I keep chatting to people, like, ‘Hey, Dan, how’s the kids?’ — and then realising my tits are out,” she says.

Nafessa Williams, who plays Cameron Cook, and is, as she says, “the only American on set”, describes everyone as “so welcoming” — but has struggled with small cultural differences.

“My cast mates would say, ‘I’m going to the loo,’ and I was like, “What does that even mean?’ I had to be told the loo is the restroom — so it was a whole new world for me.”

When it comes to the atmosphere on set, I later talk to David Tennant about this subject.

“Yes — there was a lot of due diligence about only having … joyful people on set. Crew and cast,” Tennant says, carefully.

Treadwell-Collins is more forthright.

“We had a very strict ‘no arseholes’ policy,” he says. “We did a lot of research. On EastEnders, some of [the cast] were really unpleasant; rotten apples who ruined it. For Rivals, we talked to producers and agents off the record, and if they said, ‘He’s a marvellous actor — but also a wanker,’ or, ‘He’ll be amazing, but he did beat up a girlfriend ten years ago,’ we just didn’t cast them. Lots of people [in television] will put up with it. We were like, ‘Life’s too short.’ Also, if you’ve got David Tennant on the call sheet, he’s such a genuinely lovely, kind, decent man — and that flows down through everyone else.”

However, while Tennant might be No 1 on the call sheet, Rivals is not his show. For there is one character who is the ultimate pivot of the Rutshire Chronicles: Rupert Campbell-Black.

Rupert Campbell-Black is a hot, posh bastard who, due to a three-book-long redemptive arc, is also one of womankind’s most fancied fictional creations.

Infamously, he was “inspired” by Queen Camilla’s ex-husband, Andrew Parker-Bowles.

Unlike Andrew, however, there are whole pages on Mumsnet dedicated to middle-aged women describing their hottest Rupert Campbell-Black sexual fantasies. I cannot overstate what a sex god he is held to be by Jilly Cooper fans. “RCB”, as he’s referred to, is … vaginally totemic to millions of women.

After a global search — auditions were held from America to Australia — Alex Hassell, previously seen as Metatron in His Dark Materials, was finally cast in this iconic role. When I talk to him, the main thing I want to discuss with him is how … feverishly his turn will be received.

Are you aware of Rupert’s … lubricious gravity within the Cooper fandom?

“I didn’t read the books as a teenager,” Hassell says, cheerfully. “They were on the top shelf in my mum and dad’s study, and I always wondered what they were.”

Your mother was a Jilly Cooper fan? And, therefore, presumably … a Rupert Campbell-Black fan?

“My mum, you know … blushed when I told her [I’d got the role],” Hassell admits. “A lot of women blushed when I told them.”

I’m interviewing Hassell, 44, and Tennant, 53, together. As a former Doctor, Tennant has, of course, a lot of experience in playing a role women find attractive.

“Once you’ve made [Rupert Campbell-Black] flesh, I think a lot of people are going to find it difficult to interact with you, Alex,” he says, helpfully.

It seems Hassell is aware of this.

“Yes,” he says. “One friend, when I told her, said, ‘Oh, that’s a bean-flicker role!’ I said, ‘Ah, I see.’ ”

“Huh. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone come up to me and say, ‘I’ve masturbated thinking about you,’ ” Tennant says, thoughtfully.

“David!” Hassell exclaims, hurt. “When we met, that’s the first thing I said.”

The main plot of Rivals revolves around the, well, rivalry between Tony Baddingham and Rupert Campbell-Black. When young, Baddingham was bullied by Campbell-Black at boarding school. Now a powerful TV CEO — running the Rutshire local TV franchise — Baddingham still loathes Campbell-Black. Why?

“Tony’s from a lower class, while Rupert was born with an entire silver cutlery canteen in his mouth,” Tennant says. “So whatever Tony does, he never has that class advantage. Tony needs to taste the blood of his betters in his mouth to make him feel better. Rupert’s blood.”

“And while Rupert is, in many ways, a shit,” Hassell says, thoughtfully, “he’s not a bad man, like Tony. Tony is jealous of Rupert. He wants his house, his women, his life.”

Accordingly, this suit-based class war plays out as Campbell-Black tries to take over Baddingham’s TV station — and the backstabbing, shenanigans, shagging and skulduggery commence. Basically, imagine Dallas — but if, instead of oil, everyone was fighting to take over Anglia Television. Getting really angry over who has the rights to Sale of the Century.

I tell you what, though — why am I describing all this? The best person to talk about the plot of Rivals is the woman who came up with it: Jilly Cooper. And — here she is!

Cooper’s arrival on the set of Rivals is like a cross between a visit from royalty and the advent of an adorable, massive-haired, 87-year-old Bacchus. Everyone is awaiting her presence.

“Is there any booze?” comes her voice, from the hallway, as she approaches.

She is still being told, with polite sadness, that there is no booze as she comes into the room. It’s 1.30pm.

“They don’t have any booze here,” she relays to me, regretfully, as she sits down. “I asked before, but — no luck. I smuggled some in last time, and spilled it all over me — I’m terribly clumsy.”

Cooper is the living embodiment of the Rutshire world she created. In terms of being “on brand”, Jilly Cooper turning up in a mansion, looking for lunchtime champagne, is CS Lewis turning up with a talking beaver, gossiping about an “exciting wardrobe” he’s just found.

Everyone here has been to a “Jilly Party” — regular and seemingly full-on occurrences, held at the house she’s lived in since the Seventies.

“You just leave absolutely pissed,” says one, who doesn’t want to be named. “They have to ladle you into a taxi.”

“Oh, the last one was just a little party,” Cooper says.

What’s a little party?

“Seventy, seventy-five people?” Cooper says. “And then friends from the village, obviously. Andrew Parker-Bowles. Richard Madeley and his wife. Nicky Haslam. Lisa Maxwell. Stanley Tucci — who was heavenly.”

Please tell me the party was exactly like the ones in the books.

“Well, yes. We had kir royale, Pimm’s, wines. Gins.”

Note: gins multiple.

“Vol-au-vents, melon and Parma ham, smoked salmon on blinis. Brandy snaps with Chantilly cream. Everyone got awfully tight. I led them around the infamous tennis court.”

The tennis court at Cooper’s house is the setting for one of her most iconic scenes — where Campbell-Black first meets his love interest, Taggie, while he’s playing naked tennis. He is adjudged to have lost a match point because something is over the line. Oh, why am I being so coy? This is Jilly Cooper. It’s his penis. His massive penis is judged to be over the line. A note to diehard fans: this scene is shot exactly as written. You will see a lot of willies.

“We’ve been equal opportunities in our nudity,” Treadwell-Collins says. “There’s a willy for every pair of tits.”

“That was my great disappointment over the TV show,” Cooper sighs. “The tennis court is a terrible mess — no one’s played on it for 20 years — and I thought [Disney] might be darlings and build me a new one.”

She looks around, hopefully.

“Do you think anyone here has some booze?” she asks. “It is the afternoon.”

Cooper has been an invaluable muse to everyone on set while filming. In one scene, she handed over an urgent note that read, “Rupert would never say ‘spouse’ — that’s very lower-middle [class]. He would say ‘wife’.”

She argued for particularly Cooperesque jokes and puns to stay in, and was firm that the whole “First of May” tradition remain.

“Oh, yes,” she says, looking delighted, and then quotes herself. “ ‘First of May, first of May — outdoor f***ing starts today. But if as usual it do rain, we f*** off indoors again.’ ”

This ribald rhyme kicks off a massive shagging montage, involving the entire cast. And all outdoors, of course.

But, as any English person knows, outdoor sex is a perilous sport. Perhaps the emotional centrepiece of Rivals is the agonisingly drawn-out attraction between Freddie (Danny Dyer) and Lizzie (Katherine Parkinson), both married to awful people, but who ache for each other in a way that is guaranteed to bring tears to the viewers’ eyes. A scene where they bunk into the first-class carriage of a train to smoke fags and share fruitcake, while timidly flirting with each other, is the Brief Encounter of our time.

And, without wanting to chuck in too many spoilers, when they finally requite their love for each other, it’s one of the all-time great sex scenes. Danny Dyer, it turns out, is exquisite, adorable leading-man material, while Katherine Parkinson “is the new Olivia Colman”, Treadwell-Collins says, firmly. “She will be garlanded with Baftas and Oscars. Honestly. And she wanted to do the sex scene,” he adds. “She was like, ‘I really want to show my boobs. I’m in my mid-forties and they look good.’ In that scene, you can see she’s crying — really crying, with happiness — and it makes you cry too. She looks like a f***ing queen.”

On set, however, the sex scene was not without its problems. Because it was “outdoor f***ing”, in a flower meadow.

“But it was at the height of tick season,” Treadwell-Collins recalls, with a shudder. “Not safe to be in the grass. We didn’t want to get a tick on Danny Dyer’s willy! In the end, we had to get in a load of moss for them to lie on. It’s the first time, to my knowledge, that safe sex has involved moss.”

I can’t tell you what fun it is interviewing all the Rivals people. Because of the show, everyone talks about their memories of the Eighties (David Tennant: “No, my Eighties weren’t like a Jilly Cooper book — I was at school in Paisley with my glasses held together with sticky tape, and a very unappealing haircut”), and smoking (Hassell: “Everyone smoked everywhere, didn’t they? Even on planes. They’d draw across that little … health curtain, and everyone smoked behind it”), and how hard it was to leave Cooper’s world when shooting finished (Hassell: “No one was looking at me like I’m the most sexy man on the planet any more. It was tough.”)

My final interview is with Aidan Turner, who is playing Rivals’ chat show host, Declan O’Hara.

I mean to cast no aspersions on extremely handsome men who spent a decade being a country’s totemic sex god — as Turner was, during his Poldark years — but sex gods are usually quite emotionally damaged, with a form of what might be termed “PTSD” — Post-Totty Stress Disorder. They often make for effortful company. They want to be taken seriously.

In the event, Turner, 41, is an absolute hoot — particularly on the subject of the massive moustache he sports on the show. It is a magnificent specimen of upper-lip pelt. It looks like a vole fell asleep under his nose.

It looks like the one Ned Flanders has on The Simpsons, I tell him.

Turner gives a huge, barking laugh.

“Ned Flanders? I mean, I was thinking more … Irish stag? Super-masculine?”

He starts giggling again.

Turner’s relaxed stance towards his sex god-dom comes with an interestingly meta twist. In Rivals, one of Baddingham’s TV shows is called Four Men Went to Mow — where sexy farmers, sexily stripped to the waist, carry out sexy agricultural duties.

Turner, of course, infamously stripped to the waist a few times in Poldark, for that scything scene or lying in bed or emerging from the sea. In a pleasingly postmodern moment, one scene sees Turner rail against Four Men Went to Mow — raging, almost camply, “TV can’t just be men taking their tops off!”

“Yes, that’s a lovely moment,” Turner says. “When I read the script, I was like, ‘Why have you put this in? It’s too close [to Poldark].’ But then they told me it’s in the original books — and it’s so funny. The first time I did that scene, people were keeling over laughing. It’s good to poke fun at these things.”

As one of the most Eighties stories ever, Rivals takes on some massive subjects: class, Aids, Section 28, sexism, rape, homophobia, Thatcherism, racism. As the Jane Austen of her time, Cooper has a lot of grist for her mill. The dramatic tension never drops.

But this is done hand in hand with the most delicious sense of silliness and fun. There is a single tracking shot of a buffet — the Most Eighties Buffet Ever — and the sheer amount of prawns is deeply hilarious. Prawns are very Eighties — and Rivals knows it.

Rivals knows that when it’s in Rupert Campbell-Black’s house, we will see his cold, posh childhood is perfectly encapsulated by the fact that his walls are covered in formidable oil paintings of his ancestors — but all his photo frames are full of pictures of his dogs.

And Rivals knows exactly when to play Huey Lewis and the News.

“We call it the Cooperverse,” Treadwell-Collins tells me. “It really is the equal of the DC or Marvel worlds. It’s that epic. And those who know about it are equally obsessed.”

I can attest to that. When I first read Rivals, at the age of 13, I decided I wanted to be a character in one of Cooper’s books. Specifically, Declan O’Hara’s youngest daughter: a feisty teenage girl who had dyed red hair, lived in a beautiful, sprawling house called the Priory, and was constantly rebelling against her school.

As a down payment, I first dyed my hair red. And then I decided I would change my name, in her honour. If I couldn’t actually be Declan’s youngest daughter, Caitlin O’Hara, I would stop being Catherine Moran and become Caitlin Moran. As some small promise that, one day, my life would be as fun as that of a Jilly Cooper heroine.

Because, sometimes, you don’t need a story about mythic quests, or wars, or dragons, or murder. You just need a story that promises you: being a grown-up could be exciting.

And that when sex, love, drama, awful men, fabulous bitches, workplace intrigues, swathes of blue eyeshadow and buffets of prawns finally come into your life, you can … poke fun at these things.

You can live in the Cooperverse too.

Rivals is on Disney+ from October 18

#Rivals

#aidanturnerinternational #aidan turner #séries #declan o’hara #Rivals

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miracles-and-butterflies · 5 months

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Hello! I have a few questions (after compiling all the information about the AU in a google docs haha), hope you don't mind answering them!

Is Dolores mostly doing paper work (like Terry at the start of the series), or is she also actively participating in some dangerous operations/patrol?

How does Dolores feel about the men in the precinct? Are the men in the precinct considerate of her experience, did she tell everyone about it?

Who is the most successful detective in the precinct (i.e. who has the most closed cases)? Either at the start of the series or in the middle, if it’s the major plot point

How do Pedro and Antonio relate to the rest of the cast?

Do you have ideas for the designs of other characters? Which of my designs would you want to change and how (apart from the heights of course)? They are not exactly thought through so no offense really if you don't like them. The most thought was put into Camilo’s design but it really is limited by ‘he seems like a guy who would dress up to work like he’s on a date, just because he appreciates fashion and this is why he is not "afraid" to wear pink’, bUT I might be wrong

Oh, and since we know their ages, are the main characters single or do they have significant others (and children)? Are any of them queer?

Also, is it better to send separate asks for each question...?

Not at all! I love receiving asks! If you forget to mention the AU, don’t worry about it, I usually can work out given context. 😄

Dolores is actively involved in dangerous operations, though it should be noted that she definitely picks her partners to avoid working with certain people *cough* Camilo. The only two who only do paper work being Osvaldo and Rendon.

She has not told any man/detective about her previous experience. The men on the squad are genuinely nice, well, Osvaldo is Hitchcock so that may be debatable. I digress, the only person she has opened up to is Mirabel, who has definitely experienced similar issues - partially due to the job of an assistant/secretary being so over-sexualised.

Any of Isabela, Dolores, Luisa and Camilo would argue to death about themself being their precinct’s best detective. Isabela and Camilo are actively competing about it, similar to Amy and Jake’s bet. Obviously with no romantic implications. They are just competitive and dramatic shits. Dolores probably has the best numbers and definitely brags about it.

Antonio will be this AU’s version of Nikolaj further down the line. Pedro is still Alma’s husband and Bruno’s father, who died in action and is subsequently a famous detective - this was all prior Bruno’s birth, in case you were wondering. But it definitely puts pressure on Bruno to live up to his father’s legacy.

As far as fashion goes…

Mirabel, I believe I discussed her previously? Vintage, formal, shouldn’t look more modern than about 1950. Always in a skirt, blouse and heels.

Dolores is very accurate. Very Amy-coded. A lot of business wear and suits, hair always tied up. Usually with some red or shade of. (They all stick to their colours for the most part). Very professional looking, in summary.

Isabela is very Rosa in terms of style. Boots, leather jacket, looks like she would and could kill you. But with a little more colour and dramatic flair, usually splattered a bit. Definitely has a dyed streak or two in her hair. Winged eyeliner.

Speaking of dramatic flair, let’s talk about Camilo. He is definitely very into fashion!! The most flamboyant dresser in the 99. Probably has been told to change a couple of times by Dolores and/or Bruno. Not professional or business-like at all, probably a lot of bright colours and bold patterns, hell, maybe even sparkles. He dresses for himself and it shows. Definitely wouldn’t be afraid to wear pink.

Luisa also dresses for herself, but nowhere near as dramatic. She prioritises comfort. But still wants her choices to be practical enough for physical activity and athletics, of course. Definitely has little hints of Mirabel’s embroidery in some of her clothes.

Osvaldo, Rendon and Aaron probably stay very close to their source material. Just add a badge and gun, and they are good to go. Basic shirt, trousers, tie, etc.

As for partners…

Osvaldo is unsurprisingly single. Probably has unofficial step-children.

Rendon has a wife, but she is never seen or mentioned by name. He also has two kids, who are fully grown by now, that are never named or mentioned by name either.

Bruno, who is gay, is married to a man, Alfonso Hernandez, who does work as a professor because he’s basically Kevin. (Now that I’m thinking about it, it is highly likely Alfonso taught Mirabel at some point when she was at university).

Dolores and Mariano are together and engaged by the start of the series, but not yet married. Due to being too busy. That will happen later.

Isabela, a lesbian, has a girlfriend/common-law partner, Lili. Secretly. She hasn’t told anyone she works with, they think she is single. She finds it amusing that the squad (mainly just Luisa, Camilo and Aaron) have theories that she secretly kills all of her dates.

Luisa is also a lesbian. She had a serious girlfriend (during the time at her previous precinct) but was dumped because she cared too much for her sister. She was spending a lot of time with Mirabel, who, for context, had gotten caught in a collapsing building accident and was very injured. Their parents were too busy to care for Mirabel, so Luisa became her primary caretaker. She hasn’t gotten back into dating subsequently.

Aaron is divorced and looking to find a new girl. He tries his luck with Mirabel but it doesn’t go anywhere. Will probably get married again to his variant of Genevieve some time lager.

Camilo, gay, is also single. He does experience a couple dates before ultimately getting together with Marco Osma and marry him, but that is much further into the series.

Mirabel is aromantic and asexual. She does not want or need a relationship. Has never been in one or been on a date.

I hope this answers all of your questions! Feel free to send more!

#encanto #encanto nine nine au #ask me anything

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lazorbeanz · 7 months

Text

I finally got it done 🥲

So I’ve decided to try get back into writing again, even if it’s just short stories or straight up dialogue. And I thought it be best to warm back into it with using some comfort characters, characters I’ve written about before.

Super Mario is my childhood franchise and obsession…without it I may have never discovered Sonic 😧 Whether you are a Mario fan or not, I hope you enjoy it some way or another lol

So I present to you;

The Super Slay Bros.

A Super Mario one shot based of a hc discussed by me and my sister over a game of Mario kart

TW: gen Z talk 💀

“Ooooh peach! Come check out this skirt!” Daisy yelled from across the store.

Her best friend spun on her heel and strode straight towards the voice. Her pale pink stilettos clacking on the wooden floor boards beneath her. When she arrived by the girl’s side, she looked down and was in immediate awe by what she saw: a simple but elegant pleated skirt almost the colour of her heels. It included a white checkered design to it. Again; simple, but elegant.

“Oh Daisy, this would go great with this!” She remarked, holding up a white, cropped blouse, with small frills on the ends of the short sleeves.

“I should definitely try these on!”

“Totes.” Daisy nodded in agreement. “Besides, I have almost a closet’s worth of clothes I just HAVE to try out.” She looked down at the bag she was holding, almost overflowing with bits and pieces she picked out, which if Peach didn’t know better, almost looked like half the store was raided.

But she couldn’t be mad, she just sighed and smiled. Daisy hardly ever went proper fashion shopping, but when she did, she was like a kid in a candy store…without a parent. The moment she stepped a foot in this boutique, she already spotted ten things she would die to own.

“Miiight wanna let them know…” Daisy pointed. Peach spun around, knowing who she was referring to.

“Mario! Luigi! Me and Daisy are gonna try a few things on. We won’t be long.” She hollered to the brothers, who were just standing awkwardly in the middle of the shop. Their focus immediately turned towards the princess.

“Oh, n-no worries Princess! We’ll be waiting out here.” Mario replied with a smile.

Peach returned him a weak smile, then made her way with Daisy towards the changing rooms. To be honest, she felt kinda bad for allowing them to be dragged into this…shopping wasn’t their cup of tea, let alone fashion shopping…she gets that. And the way she saw them standing around like sore thumbs was really unfair in her opinion. But it was their day off work and they both insisted to tag along, in case the girls required help in carrying an overload on purchases…Such gentlemen! What a way to spend a day off! She hated to leave them like this.

Peach could only hope they wouldn’t be too long, but as for her friend’s current situation, this ain’t gonna be a quick ‘in-n-out’…

———

Ten minutes had already passed and there was no sign of the girls emerging from the changing rooms…and as patient as Mario could possibly be, he was beginning to find this awkward. A few people had come in, to do the same as what the four were in here for, instantly recognising the iconic Mario Brothers, some who even struck up a conversation or two with them, which they were able explain their reasons for being in a place such as this…they seemed understand.

Now the store was empty just like how it was when they first arrived, a loud silence filled the air, apart from the faint music that could be heard playing in the shop. Mario glanced over at his brother, who looked just as lost. He was twiddling his thumbs, which the older knew was a sign of his anxiety. For being the only 2 out here really didn’t give any reason to get anxious…but this is Luigi we’re talking about. He can get anxious from practically anything…even from dead silence.

Mario scanned the area, looking in hopes for something that might calm his younger brother a bit. When something in particular caught his eye. He smirked to himself and walked over to the counter.

———

“Hey Lu!”

Luigi gasped and flinched, slightly surprised by the mentioning of his name. He swiftly looked up to the direction where the voice came from.

“M-Mario?! What the heck?!”

Luigi looked more confused than a man in a barber shop. Looking his brother up and down.

His older brother was completely adorned in beaded necklaces around his neck and multiple bracelets on both wrists. He was also wearing a pair of sunglasses with an incredibly thick pink frame, and a green cap worn backwards, which he believed had a 1-UP mushroom embroided on the front.

“Fab am I right?” His brother attempted to mimic the girls’ casual lingo, whilst striking a pose like a runway model.

This caused Luigi to snicker. Who was he and what did he do with his brother?

“Mario what is thi- woah!”

He got interrupted with Mario grabbing a hold of his arm and pulling him towards the counter.

“It’s time we keep ourselves busy in the meantime” the older glanced back at the younger with a grin painted on his face. And it wasn’t just any grin…it was THAT grin…the grin that meant he had an idea, usually a mischievous one at that.

I mean he was right, almost 15 minutes has passed and neither girl showed, if he had something in mind to keep them occupied from the seemingly long wait, it was worth a shot.

Mario let go of his grasp once they were at their destination. To the right of the register, was a huge rotatable stand, which held an unruly amount of assorted accessories…necklaces, earrings, rings, bracelets, you name it!

Luigi looked at Mario, and Mario at him.

“Help yourself.” He nodded to the stand.

Now it was Luigi’s turn to put on ‘the grin’ as he began to strip the stands of all sorts of jewellery, and began applying them on him. He just managed to squeeze a few rings on his fingers. Having pretty large hands made it difficult as most of the sizes were for smaller fingers.

Once done with the jewellery, he surveyed the area to find the hats. He chose a simple straw hat…and also found a purple scarf but was so long he wore it like a fur boa. Lastly, he found a pair of rounded sunglasses with a metallic bronze frame.

“Slay or nay?” He spun around to face his brother, who decided to leave him on his own while he got dressed up. Mario chuckled at hearing the unexpected lingo from his younger brother.

“Oh my gosh, SLAY QUEEN!!” He exclaimed louder that he should’ve, sending both brothers into fits of laughter. Honestly, it was so cringy but so hilarious at the same time. They didn’t know how on earth people would say stuff like this with a straight face…But one of them will either strike a weird pose, or attempt to say another cringy girl comment, which would send them back into another fit of giggles.

After almost a minute of being hunched on the floor, trying to regain breath, the pair finally regained composure and decided to head back to the stand, switching up their looks with other accessory pieces. They also noticed a mirror right next to the jewellery stand, which they used to take mirror selfies with their cellphones, imitating how the girls do them. The poses and a frequent “slay gurl!” or a “Yass queen!” From one of them would send them howling.

They unconsciously repeated this for another 15 minutes. Out of all the possibilities of how their day would turn out, neither expected to be doing something as out of the blue, as this.

———

Peach forcefully swung the door open of the changing room, gasping for a breath of (somewhat) fresh air. It can get kinda stuffy in those change rooms, and with the duration she was in their for, not only trying her own picks, which turned out to be a perfect fit and match, but also having to assist daisy in an unexpected wardrobe malfunction or two, (either a zipper wouldn’t budge or she got stuck in a clothing item for being too small) it was better than nothing.

The girl inhaled deeply and exhaled, feeling much better, she turned around to see her best friend dragging her bag stuffed with clothes, majority of them turned out to be too small for her.

“I’m sorry the try on was a flop, Dais.” Peach placed a hand gently on the girl’s back.

“Eh don’t stress.” She sighed. “Besides, after all that, there’s just one thing in particular that I want.” She stated, pulling up a pale blue bodycon dress with tiny daisies dotted all over. “It’s…PERFECT!”

All Peach could do at that moment was shoot Daisy a smile, glad that she found something she wanted. But there was a part of her that just wanted to scream…all this just to buy ONE dress?! She shrugged it off, relieved it’s over now, when she remembered the guys were still waiting.

“Oh shoot, the boys!” She whispered, but still loud enough for Daisy to hear. The girls’ pace increased rapidly, making their way to where they last saw the 2, but stopped to a halt just as quick when they heard what definitely sounded like Mario and Luigi’s voices coming from…over by the counter?

———

“What on earth?!”

The sound of the Princess’ voice seemed to get their attention, both were startled however.

Mario was first to make a comment.

“Ahh P-princess! Uhhhhh I-I-it’s not what it looks like! You see, w-we were just l-looking!” He stammered, his face as red as his shirt. He almost immediately started taking off the load of accessories that were currently on him. Luigi followed suit, but ended up getting his arms tangled in the amount of necklaces around his neck.

“Hm I can see that…” She eyed him up and down. The plumber chuckled nervously.

“Looks like these two had a little try-on session of their own.” Daisy stifled a laugh. “I don’t know about you girl…but I think they kinda slay.”

“NOHOOO!!! NO MORE SLAY!!” Luigi cried aloud before collapsing on the floor, cackling, his arms still entwined in all the jewellery.

“Hang on Weegie, I’m coming.” Daisy assured, kneeling down to his aid.

Peach giggled at the commotion from the two down below, then turned to face Mario. “Maybe Daisy is right.” She winked at him. “Lemme help you get all that off.” She offered, which he gladly accepted her help, removing all the necklaces, bracelets, etc. She returned them back onto the stand as if they were never moved. She also returned the hat and sunglasses back to their designated spots. Daisy did the same with Luigi’s collection, but kept the sunglasses, as she thought they’d go well with her new dress.

Once they all decided to chime in and help return all Daisy’s previous picks back to where they belong throughout the store, and purchased their goods, they finally made their exit out of the boutique.

The mall was incredibly lively from when they first arrived. But that wasn’t gonna be able to mute Daisy’s holler, pointing at something through a window in another boutique.

“OH PEACH!! WE HAVE TO CHECK THIS OUT!!!”

Peach didn’t even catch what it was that Daisy was excited about this time.

Her, along with Mario and Luigi, just groaned in unison.

You read it all the way through? Yay! :D

I hope you enjoyed it! It was thought out a lot better in my head but I’m incredibly eepy (I stayed up late to finish this) so I’m content

Haven’t done a full grammatical check so apologies for any mistakes ;-;

I’m sorry for the cringe ;3;

❤️🩷💚🧡

#super mario #mario #Luigi #peach #Daisy #princess peach #princess daisy #mareach #luiaisy #mario fanfic #mario fanfiction #super mario brothers #super mario bros

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bisexual-horror-fan · 5 months

Text

"Ready Up." Freddy Krueger X Amber Cottrell X GN! Reader.

Hey! It's Multi-May! How exciting! It's been a whole year! I know I haven't written a lot this year, but to be honest, it's been quite a lot. I hope to write a lot this month and try to make up for some lost time! I figured why not start with a good Freddy, Amber and YOU fic! Last May we got an aftercare fic, this time, we get one of you getting ready for a date! Not super filthy, but very fun! Let's go!

---

Rating. NSFW-Ish. Length. 2.4K. Freddy Krueger X Amber Cottrell X GN! Reader. No Pronouns Or Parts Specified. Warnings: Some Sexual Content And Banter. Alcohol Consumption.

---

It was Friday night.

To most people, Friday night just meant the end of the work week, the start of the weekend, the end of stress and the beginnings of fun, and it meant that to you too, sure, but it also meant much, much more to you. Why? Well because Friday night was date night.

You were so lucky you had more than one partner, you had two.

The dates you had on Friday had more than one part to them as well. It stared as it always does, with a text, you get it on lunch, a simple, “Sidebar. Six P.M., see you there?”

You grin and text back quickly, “Can’t wait!”

You get three heart emotes in a neat little row in response almost immediately, and so the plan is set. You finish up work and head home, you had packed your Friday night bag that morning, you get changed out of your work clothes, and into the outfit you already laid out. You had been counting on this and knew time was off the essence, the time you get with her isn’t as much as you’d like, you don’t want to waste a second of it. Once you were changed, you headed back out, knowing you might not be potentially back until over twenty-four hours from now.

You’d been to this bar once, after a concert with some friends, but never with her. Once inside, you get a table, sit down, and you wait. You were early, she is right on time, six o’clock on the dot, the door opens, and she strolls in, she’s still dressed from work, must have come right from there, which is the usual for her. She looks amazing as always in a stylish blouse, tight pencil skirt that hugs her thighs, tall and polished heels, her hair is down and purse slung over her shoulder, she glances around, catches sight of you and holds up a hand, she waves with a warm smile. She starts to come over, as soon as she’s close enough she says, “Hey sweetheart, thanks for meeting me here.”

“Of course! Date night with you? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She is right beside you now, her bag is put over the back of the chair, she leans over and kisses you.

You melt into it.

It’s been a whole week since you’d last gotten to see her, the week was too hectic, far too much going on to get to meet up, so this was needed. You return her affection, you kiss her back, and she pulls away with a light laugh, “Mmm, miss me that much?”

“Endlessly.” You sigh dreamily, and she takes her seat, she picks up the cocktail menu and opens it, “What are you in the mood for? I’m thinking something with gin.”

You tease her about branching out from scotch and bourbon and whisky, and she laughs, rolls her eyes, but it’s fond. “Am I not allowed to try something new?”

“Course not, M’ glad to see the change.” You pick out a gin based cocktail and so does she and you both share them evenly, you think the one she picked out was better, funnily enough, she thought the one you did was, weird how that works out.

You both have two drinks and get caught up on each other’s weeks, vent frustration, tell funny stories, laugh and commiserate and of course, you express how much you missed each other, holding hands over the table-top.

“Love the new manicure, by the way, great colour.” You compliment and she preens, “Thank you! Seasonal change up, spring is coming in so the pallet must reflect that, you know?” She shows off her nails, and you look closer, the pale pink reminds you of peony flowers, it’s classy, glossy and impeccable. You make a note to yourself to get her some flowers soon rather than later.

You pick up the tab while she is in the bathroom, and she playfully scolds you over it, she pays much more often than you ever do because she makes much more than you and loves to spoil you stupid, but you try to hit her back whenever the opportunity presents itself.

After leaving the bar, both hand in hand, you suggest the restaurant, and she grins, excitedly asking you to lead the way. Amber was big into food, she loved cooking, adored going out to eat and eating well, she’d opened your eyes in a lot of ways to different food, took you to some amazing places, so in return you’ve gotten very into looking up and researching places so you could suggest some from time to time.

When she told you Sidebar, you had a look through the extra bookmark tab you kept, find a restaurant you looked into previously that was within walking distance, and luckily you had one that fit the bill exactly. It wasn’t a super well known place, but you’d seen it recommended in a local foodie forum, the kind of place that if you gave it another two months it was gonna have articles about it and explode and getting a reservation would become next to impossible. It was Friday, but you got in with a less than five minute wait.

You both sit down at this quiet table for two near the window that looks out onto the street, but you don’t give a shit about the view, you are just looking at her. She had unbuttoned her blouse a few buttons, her freckled cheeks were rosy, blue eyes alight, she was looking over the wine menu and debating between two different bottles, asking which you thought sounded better.

Dinner was good, you shared the wine, she got a pasta dish and fed you some from her fork, it was divine, you should have ordered what she did instead of the burger you’d decided on. After dinner, you forgo dessert, she tells you she hit the bakery last night, bought something so you could have something sweet back at her place. She gushes over how good the restaurant choice you made was while on your way home, you feel warm and happy.

Her heels click on the well polished floors of the lobby of her apartment building as you walk alongside her. Her arm is looped with yours, and you can feel the anticipation, the excitement building, you were very much looking forward to the next part. You ride the elevator up to her floor, your mood rising with the altitude, after getting out and down the hall, she gets her keys out, unlocks the door and in you both go, first you, then her.

You end up in the kitchen, she got this cute little cake, it’s fruit and cream, soft amd moist sponge cake, it's sweet but not overly so, she served you both a nightcap, you sit on stools at the kitchen island and ask, “So we having a shower after this?”

She smiles in that knowing way only she can, “What do you think?”

You know for a fact that you both would, playing the game is cute all the same.

Drinks and dessert finished, you follow behind her to the bathroom, you close the door, she turns on the water, lets it start to heat up as she begins to strip down. She steps out of her heels as nimble fingers start to unbutton the rest of her blouse, the skirt is unzipped and shimmied out of, it pools around bare feet, she shrugs the fabric to the floor and is in just her underwear. Your own hands are lingering, stopped midway through taking your own clothes off, just looking at her. She catches you and laughs, “Come on, strip, before we take up all the hot water in the damn building.”

You shake your head and concede, “Sorry, sorry, just never gonna get used to that view…”

Your voice trails off, you are taking off your own shirt as she is unhooking her bra, your eyes not leaving her for a second.

Under the warm spray of the shower, with her firm but gentle touch, you truly feel the last bits of the week's stress melt off of you. She loves to help you clean up, and she loves to let you do the same, she lathers and scrubs, washes and rinses, treats you very well. When you go to return the favour you linger, you take your time. Foreplay between you both feels like it starts as soon as you are in the same physical space, but now is when it truly ramps up. How can it not? As you touch ample curves and hands wander over every single inch of skin, as you kiss her and she presses nearer, touching you in return.

Her hair is up, and she is being careful not to get it wet, the long mess of curls she has takes forever to wash, forget about drying it, you express further care, tilt her head away from the water as you kiss her neck. Eventually you manage to pull yourselves apart and get out.

Soon enough, you are wearing a silk robe that she bought you and keeps in her walk-in closet. You are sprawled on the crisp white bedspread, watching her get ready for your other partner. She is getting dressed in some new lingerie, she told you over dinner she’d picked it up on her lunch break, some boutique downtown collabing with a designer she liked to put out a new line for spring, she saw the samples online and put in an order as soon as she was able. Amber doesn’t own a lot of white lingerie, but it looks startlingly good on her, the embroidery is delicate and intricate, you love it, but you mourn how it will probably be wrecked by him before the night is out. She’s got money to burn, she loves buying new things just for him to ruin, pieces she loves too much are never worn for him, ones that only you have gotten to see her in, you focus on how fun it is to be a part of him destroying the ones she lets him and let go of the fact this particular set will never be the same again when the morning light creeps in.

You enjoy it as you watch her fix and adjust straps, smooth out lines and make it all look just right. She strolls back in from the haven that is her closet, you reach out and touch her as she passes by, fingertips graze the exposed strip of skin between her thigh high stocking and the matching panties, she smiles and bats your hand away, “Soon, just be a little more patient.”

“Tease.” You huff out as you watch her sit down at her vanity. She is doing her evening routine now, you watch her begin, opening up a tub to start her skin care, “How am I a tease exactly?”

“Cuz you’d let him do whatever he wants whenever he wants.”

“And you want the same privilege?” She asks, meeting your gaze in the mirror, and you raise your eyebrows, “I have eyes, a brain and a heartbeat Amber, of course I’d love to have you the way he does.”

The conversation is light, joking, you are saying it with a smile, and she is returning it, before she clucks her tongue in mock sympathy, an overexaggerated pout, “Poor baby, so hard done by.”

It’s quiet for a moment.

You don’t feel any jealousy. You have more than he does in some respects, you and her hang-out in public, you get to sleep in her bed, you have the chance to see her for random lunches and so much more than he does. Your relationship works, you are secure.

You feel soft, intimate, true she has a ton of love for him, and he gets her all prettied up, the perfect slut, happy and at the start of her weekend, but you get her all the time. He gets her on the Friday nights, you get her on the Saturday mornings, wake up to her with messy hair, help tend to the wounds he leaves, have breakfast in her balcony garden, you wouldn’t trade that for anything.

“What’s got that sweet fucking look painted all over your face?” She asked and you sighed, “You.”

She glanced over her shoulder, “Me?”

“Yeah. You, just thinking about you and about us.”

“All good things, I hope.” She muses and you confirm, “Obviously. I’m just happy. Really happy with you.”

She looks pleased to hear that, she flicks off the lights that surround her vanity mirror, she gets up and comes over to you, “What are you doing to me?” She sighs, leaning down, she kisses your forehead, “You are getting me in the totally wrong headspace to go see that crispy fucker. I’m going to get in there all gooey and shit.”

“Awe, heaven forbid you go in there any less than your sluttiest.” You laugh and she says, “Exactly! How am I meant to go in there mouth first when you get to my heart the way you do?”

She nudged you, taking the hint you scoot, you get into bed after taking off your robe, and she turns off the bedside lamp, getting in next to you. She curls into you immediately, your arms open, accepting her closer, tugging her near, she cuddles into you and presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw. You say it more often than she does, she shows it more than she would ever say it, quiet and into the dark, “I love you.”

Amber hums and nuzzles her nose into your neck, there is a humming, not explicitly musical, just a rise and fall the tune of which could be read as mirroring what you said.

Sleep doesn’t take long to claim either of you, and soon enough you wake up to the feel of different bedsheets on bare skin, a softer mattress under you and that voice cutting in from above, “Took you long enough.”

Your eyes remain closed, but you can feel her shifting, excited voice pouring out from the woman still in your arms, “Hi Freddy, sorry to keep you waiting.”

The second part of date night starts now.

#Multi-May #Freddy Krueger X reader #Amber Cottrell X Reader #BHF writing #HERE WE ARE AGAINNNNN #I AM SO EXCITED

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nikatyler · 2 years

Photo

🦇 vampire sim dump #02

Happy simblreen! I almost didn’t participate this year, but then I thought, well, I have all these vampire sims (or vampire-related sims), might as well upload them and share them in a fun way!

TOU and notes:

You can play out the storylines I gave them, or you can ignore it and use them any way you like. I’d be happy to see it anyway!

They only have one outfit set. I would suggest changing their other outfits, otherwise you’ll probably see them around town wearing nothing but a towel 😅 Still better than the randomized madness I had to see them in though.

Please, don’t change their pronouns, gender and sexual orientation.

Don’t change their genetics. Feel free to give them a makeover - new hair, new clothes, makeup etc. Don’t claim as your own, don’t reupload or use as a base for your own sims.

Download links, used CC and individual posts linked under the cut.

GRACJAN (he/him)

Eyelashes

🦇

BASIR (he/him)

Eyelashes | Hair | Eyebrows (28)

Veins | Skinblend | Eyes (tsr)

Blush (tsr) | Tattoo (tsr) + this one (also tsr)

Eye preset | Ear preset (01)

Eyelids slider | Mouth slider

Earrings (tsr) | Pants

🦇

AGATHA (she/they)

Eyelashes | Eyebrows (51)

Skinblend

Ear preset (02) | Eye preset

Lip slider | Mouth slider

Eyeshadow (tsr) | Eyeliner (tsr) | Contour | Lipstick (tsr)

Earrings (tsr) | Nose ring | Blouse (tsr) | Skirt | Shoes

🦇

EDDIE (he/him)

Eyelashes | Hair

Skinblend | Skin Details

Chin Preset | Lip Preset (08)

Mouth Slider

🦇

WILLIAM (he/him)

Eyebrows (01) | Body Hair | Stubble | Hair

Skinblend | Limb Colour | Eyes (tsr) | Black Sclera | Skintone

Nose preset (10) | Ear preset (04)

Belly slider | Mouth slider

Eyeliner

Coat | Pants? (AxA Darius no belt but I can’t figure out which pack it is 🤷‍♀️) | Shoes

🦇

RÉZI (she/her)

Hair | Eyelashes (lip mole) | Eyebrows (04)

Veins | Skinblend | Belly + Cleavage overlay | Freckles | Skin details

Jaw preset | Eye preset | Lip preset (09) | Body preset

Mouth slider

Eyeshadow | Eyeliner (13) | Lipgloss

Rings | Socks | Top | Pants | Shoes

🦇

SASHA (any pronouns)

Eyelashes | Hair | Eyebrows

Eyebags | Skinblend

Eye preset | Nose preset (02) | Lips preset (06)

Mouth slider | Eyelids slider

Eyeshadow | Eyeliner | Lipstick

Coat | Tattoo | Shoes | Choker | Earrings

🦇

INDIRA (she/her)

Eyelashes (lip mole) | Eyebrows (02) | Hair

Skinblend | Eyeshape Overlay | Eyebags | Skin Details

Mouth slider

Eyeshadow | Eyeliner | Highlight | Blush | Lipstick

Earrings | Rings | Sandals (09) | Suit

🦇

GAIA (she/her)

Eyelashes (lip mole) | Hair | Eyebrows (52)

Veins | Black sclera | Skin overlay

Eye preset (01) | Nose preset | Lips preset (09)

Mouth slider | Eyelids slider | Cheek slider

Eyeshadow (tsr) | Blush (tsr)

Choker? (should be by jomsims but google is failing me) | Dress | Chain | Gloves

🦇

ALTERNATIVE DOWNLOAD (Google Drive)

#s4cc #ts4cc #sims download #sim download #ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #sim dump #28bloodynightsCAS #my cc

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alien-hybreed · 6 months

Text

CITATION NEEDED

Project Scryer Ascendant.

It was supposed to be an unprecedented study of an extraterrestrial parasite. An opportunity to study the parasites and a living host, the first to ever be successfully captured and held in captivity. Or so we thought.

Over the course of a week, Dr Sydney Carlisle and her team are irreversibly changed by what they discover...

This story was inspired by @monsterlovingforscience and the alien 'research' they encouraged.

DR S. CARLISLE Personal Log - 1610 hours, 03/27/2049

The handheld camera bumps and shudders as it is set down in a hurry. Visible is what appears to be an office or quarters. It's minimalist walls are airbrushed steel panels with a clinical white and grey colour scheme. Several large scientific books line a bookshelf to the right. In front of it, the camera comes into focus on a woman.

Her black hair is dishevelled, frizzy, matted in places by streaks of thick, white mucus. Her white coat is torn and fraying in several spots. Her chest rises and falls in rapid bursts and her shallow, ragged breaths can be clearly heard. The top four buttons on her pale lavender blouse are missing, allowing her slime covered chest to peak put from her sweat soaked top.

"This... is s-senior project lead... Dr Sydney... Carlisle" she stammers between breaths "and I'm transmitting this final log because it might... it will be the last thing I ever say."

Several loud thumps can be heard coming from outside the room. There is a harsh, grating squeal as something seems to be clawing at the door to the room. Dr Sydney Carlisle let's out a terrified cry and begins to sob, shaking her head from side to side.

"We thought we could contain it... we thought if we studied it, if we understood it..." she murmurs with a terrible, haunted look in her eyes. Outside the room, the shrieking and thumping seems to grow louder, what seemed like inhuman barking almost sounds like its calling Dr Carlisle by name.

"Alex... Nora... Jaime... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't want this. Not like this." Sobs Dr Carlisle, burying her head in her hands. "It used them. I'm so sorry..."

"SSSSSYDNEEEY" "COME" "SYDNNNNNEEEEY" "JOIN" "JOIN USSSS" "SYDNNNNEEEEEY" Shriek a trio of voices over the thumping and scratching. Dr Carlisle buries her head in her hand and screams. Her scream turns into a wet hacking cough as she looks up at the camera, eyes wide with fear.

"Oh God it's in me. It's... in... meeee..." she wails as she begins to dry-reach. With a horrible heave, a thick splatter of white slime oozes from her mouth.

"Whatever you do... don't-" before she can finish, another spatter of slime wells up in her throat as her teeth and jawbone seem to bulge. The video abruptly cuts. There are several seconds of the camera getting bumped around, dropping in and out of focus as the recording is repeatedly switched on and off. In the garbled sections of footage, there are glimpses claws and teeth. Thick trails of slime spattering across what looks like an exposed human thigh, breast, or mouth. Pink flesh darkening and hardening. All the while screams of protest and monstrous shrieks chanting Dr Carlisle's name cut in and out.

Eventually, the camera seems to stabilise. As it comes in to focus, we can see this is a larger, more open room. It's only light source seems to be the dim glow of the red emergency lighting. The walls are obscured by what seems to be thick streaks or clumps of dark green matter that glistens in the low-light. Amidst it, is what was once Dr Sydney Carlisle.

Her entire body, save for her waist, chest, neck and mouth seems to be sheathed in thick, black chitin. Her exposed skin is deathly white, her veins dark and purple, clearly visible beneath her ghostly skin. Her lips are black and full, glistening with slime dripping from her gaping mouth. The chitin sheathing her is pronounced, sharp, lined with ridges where each segment overlaps the next. A large, skeletal tail thrashes between her elongated legs.

Before her are three similar female creatures, identical slave for slight variations in the size and shape of their exposed chest and mouth sections. Otherwise their chitin is identical, as is their pale skin and dark veins. The three of them seem to gasp and cry out as they stare up at Dr Carlisle, touching their own lips, breasts and crotches as though they were pleasuring themselves at the sight of her.

Behind the inhuman Dr Carlisle, looms an enough creature. It's chitin is the same I'm appearance and structure, yet broader. More pronounced. In place of an exposed feminine chest, it sports a muscular, male torso and a thickset jaw. It purrs loudly as it runs an enormous hand over Carlisle's exposed abdominals. Her waist shudders and an enormous phallus can be seen extending from the creature, into her vagina. The organ undulating wildly as thick streams of its semen cascade from where the organs meet.

"Oh... God. Oh fuck..." moans Dr Carlisle as the last of her human teeth seem to lengthen into fangs, her voice reaching a high pitched shriek as she climaxes. The creature behind her continues to purr as it reaches up to stroke the exposed flesh of her cheek.

"Joinnnn... usss..." crow the threw female creatures on the ground

"Yesss... join... ussss..." moans Dr Carlisle. Even though her chitin fully encloses the rest of her head, hiding her eyes, she is staring directly into the camera.

"Joinnn... usssssss..." she hisses with a rapturous sigh.

* * *

DR S CARLISLE Transit Log - 0945 hours, 03/19/2049

Received 5 specimens for project Scryer Ascendant at 0900 hours. 4 Alpha-class specimens 1 Beta-class specimen

Alpha Class specimen is believed to be stage one lifeform of project Scryer Ascendant. Class 2 containment protocols are in full effect with each specimen individually stored in airtight, toughened glass containers at a temperature of 50 degrees Fahrenheit or below. This has proven to sufficiently slow the specimen's metabolism to incapacitate it without causing harm.

Beta-class specimen, dubbed Beta-0001, requires a steady stream of sedative to keep it calm. Allegedly it becomes quite hostile and will violently thrash about it's container if the sedative were to cease and it detected humans in its immediate vicinity.

Beta-0001 is the first documented instance of a Beta-class specimen to be successfully taken into captivity and is deemed a priority 1 asset.

All terms and conditions agreed to by all staff present, per the attached report.

Signed off

Dr Sydney Carlisle, Head of Research, Project Scryer Ascendant

* * *

DR J. SAUNDERS Initial Report on Specimen arrival - 1030 hours, 03/19/2049

Project Scryer Ascendant arrived this morning without issue. The 4 Alpha-class Specimens and Single Beta-class Specimen appear indifferent and undisturbed by the transfer. All diagnostics on containment cells are satisfactory. Temperatures in cells are holding steady at 44-48 degrees Fahrenheit. Beta-0001 seems remarkably lucid despite the volume of sedative being pumped into it during transit, despite the absence of eyes, I could swear it stared right at me the entire time it was unloaded and moved to Specimen Containment.

* * *

DR. A. DIO Alpha Research Log - 1600 hours, 03/20/2049

Initial analysis of Alpha-class specimen 0001 Despite possessing external carapace, the creature possesses an internal skeletal structure. Initial presumptions the specimen might share similar attributes to terrestrial insects is now disputed within the team. Underside of specimen 0001 appears highly sensitive, contact with external stimuli to exposed flesh seems to increase awareness and activity. Analysis concluded ahead of schedule as specimen 0001 grew increasingly restless and radical temperature decrease was required to subdue it. Dr Carlisle has advocated using Specimen 0002 tomorrow so as not to further agitate 0001.

* * *

DR S. CARLISLE Beta Research Log - 1700 hours, 03/20/2049

Beta-class Specimen, intial diagnostics. Beta-0001 per project outlines is the result of unprotected human exposure to an Alpha-class specimen. In assessing Beta-0001, it is important to establish the particulars of both human and non-human elements.

Human component of Beta-0001 is visibly male.

Beta-class specimen displays increased cognitive awareness from Alpha-class specimens but seemingly less than that of the average human. Beta-0001 appears to be instinctive. Primal. Rudimentary at best

Curiously, eyes and ears are obscured by the carapace sheathing the front of the host's head. This leads us to believe that Beta-0001 either relies on other forms of perception such as pheromone trails, scent and heat. Or it's eyes are somehow able to see through the carapace like a two-way mirror.

Beta-0001 is certainly able to perceive us. It seems keenly aware of our position, following our movements with its eyeless stare. It seems particularly fixated on Dr Saunders for reasons we've yet to determine.

Returning specimen to containment ahead of further study.

* * *

DR A. DIO Internal Email to N. Ashmore - 1830 hours, 03/25/2049

"Good Evening Nora,

Has Jaime been poking around about Beta-0001 again? She spent practically all of our lunch hour talking to me about it yesterday and again today.

She seems particularly concerned about the properties of its chemical output, how it interacts with an unprotected human, etc.

She's trying to be casual about it but you know what her poker face is like.

Just... getting worried maybe the more to what happened the day Dr Carlisle reassigned her. If there's a possible quarantine breach, we have to act accordingly.

Regards

A Dio"

Reply from Dr Nora Ashmore, 48 minutes later

"Hey Alex, Haha yeah, that girl is practically free money. Her bluffing is terrible.

That said, I'm not sure? We make conversation about the specimens while we work. Seems perfectly normal conversation to me, naturally how the Alpha-class interact with host forms and what that means for Beta-0001 is going to come up.

That said... she is very attentive with the specimens. I'll run it by Dr Carlisle, just in case.

Cheers,

N. Ashmore"

* * *

DR J SAUNDERS Beta Research Log - 1630 hours, 03/22/2049

Beta-0001 review in progress.

Subject is just over 9 days post exposure to Alpha-class specimen. While Beta-class specimens have been observed in the wild, this is the first documented instance of a successful capture and study.

Immediately, there is a notable difference in how the specimen dubbed Beta-0001 is pacified. Unlike Alpha-class specimens which are highly sensitive to extreme temperatures, Beta-0001 appears completely uninhibited by low temperatures. While significantly low temperature appears to trigger a pain response, it does not slow Beta-0001.

Instead, traditional human sedatives are used to slow or incapacitate Beta-0001.

Presumably this is because it is still for the most part, human. However alterations to the host body by Alpha-class specimen means that its metabolism processes and expels the sedative much faster than humanly possible. To slow Beta-0001 and render it docile requires an equivalent dose to what could subdue eight full-grown humans for several hours. To induce complete unconsciousness requires almost twice that amount.

In assessing the creature's physical attributes, it is easy to differentiate the Alpha-class specimen from it's host at face value. Host is human male, middle aged, physical fitness suggests an athletic profession. Probably a servicemen. Where the Alpha-class specimen has bonded, there are visible punctures and suturing of the flesh. The Alpha-class Specimen's carapace appears to not only grow to accommodate the size and shape of the host but also pushes through the host's flesh to graft itself to their skeletal structure. The Alpha-class Specimen's tentacles also appear to extend into the host's body, though they seem to merge seamlessly with the exposed flesh of the host form.

The mouth, neck, chest, wait and pelvis of the host are still visible and human in appearance. Their limbs, head and back are sheathed in shiny, black carapace. This appears to be the Alpha-class specimen merged with the host body. The longer it remains attached, the more pronounced and angular the carapace seems to become.

Host form displays discoloured, pale skin. It appears deceased though there is no odor or visible rot to indicate decomposition. Darkened veins are visible, suggesting an absence of red blood cells. Perhaps the darkening of the veins indicates changes to host's circulatory system. Dr Carlisle infers it is likely blood cells are hijacked by the Alpha-class specimen and used to sustain the host form. We have drawn three blood sample for testing. This agitated Beta-0001 considerably, it has been sedated and stored ahead of schedule so as to not agitate it further.

Further testing will resume tomorrow.

* * *

DR A DIO Internal Email to S. Carlisle - 2048 hours, 03/25/2049

"Good Evening Sydney,

Strictly off-the-record, you're right about Jaime. Especially in the last day or so, her questions pertaining to the Beta-class specimen have been... unorthodox.

And very specific.

I know we all get a background check but I have to question whether someone either didn't pick up on her tendencies or if they foolishly thought it wouldn't be a conflict of interest?"

* * * DR J. SAUNDERS Personal Memo - 1830 hours, 03/25/2049

I think they know. Everyone has started treating me differently, I think Sydney found out. Her and Nora go way back so obviously she knows too. It feels like Alex is the only person I can trust. If she finds out too, I expect that will change. With me outed like that, this will all be for nothing.

* * *

DR J. SAUNDERS Beta Research Log - 1720 hours, 03/23/2049

Beta-0001 Bloodwork and fluid analysis

Initial blood tests on Beta-0001 show a parasitic structure to its blood cells. For lack of a better description, we are observing two forms of blood cells. The first appears to be the typical human red blood cell, grafted to it is an alien protoplasm consistent with what we have retrieved from both 'blood' and 'saliva' in Alpha-class specimens. The protoplasm appears to attach to the red blood cells and alter their make-up at a genetic level to behave like viral cells. At this point they are now purple blood cells that seem to methodically produce blue blood cells that despite appearing human, are comprised entirely of the alien protoplasm.

This supports Dr Carlisle's theory that the Alpha-class specimen represses the host's biology in it' entirety, leaving only vague cosmetic similarity.

We have proceeded to collect samples of saliva, perspiration and semen from Beta-0001 to further investigate how extensive this repurposing may be. These samples were easily obtained, primarily as Beta-0001 seems to constantly secrete copious amounts of saliva, even when incapacitated. It also sweat profusely, particularly when being examined, I have inferred this is based on contact and proximity to potential host forms. Dr Carlisle is adamant it is merely a side-effect of the metabolic changes the host is experiencing.

The semen sample was unintentional. While collecting sweat directly from Beta-0001's exposed thigh, my proximity to its genitalia seemed to excite the subject. The movements of my gloved hand reportedly made it's penis stiffen an ejaculate. Once Dr Carlisle and I overcame our initial surprise, I volunteered to collect the sample before it coagulated entirely. In doing so, the movement of my gloved hand near and on the engorged phallus further excited Beta-0001 who was subsequently pacified and returned to storage.

In its aroused state, Beta-0001 required an unprecedented level of sedative to subdue it. Samples have been forwarded to Dr Dio for further study.

* * *

DR S. CARLISLE Email to N. Ashmore and A. Dio marked High Importance - 1900 hours, 03/23/2049

As of Today, Dr J. Saunders is to be moved from Beta-class specimen analysis to Alpha-class specimen analysis. Effective immediately.

Today while collecting samples, I have reason to believe she deliberately provoked the creature to become aroused. By exciting Beta-0001 she put both of us at risk of biological contamination by an unknown potential transmission vector secreted by Beta-0001.

Dr Alex Dio will preside over all subsequent study of the Beta-class specimen.

* * *

EXAM ROOM 3 CCTV LOG 1238 hours, 03/27/2049

The lab CCTV slowly flicker back on following an hour long outage. A red alert light flashes in the corner of the screen to indicate unauthorised activity. Standing in front of the examination table is Dr J. Saunders. She is completely naked, arms hanging limp by her sides. Her head droops to one side her mouth hanging open as she appears to stand motionless in a catatonic state. Behind her, the Beta specimen is bolted to the examination table.

Beta-0001's arms and legs strain. One by one, the metal cuffs fastening it to the table snap, it's limbs popping free as it pulls itself from the table. Dr Saunders doesn't even flinch, standing completely still as the creature rises to its feet behind her. As it stands, Beta-0001 reaches out to stroke Jaime's cheek and tilt her head back. Moving like she is in a trance, she slowly leans back to let the creature kiss her long and full, squarely on her lips.

Nearly a full minute passes as Beta-0001's lips prise Jaime's apart, it's tongue visibly sloshing around in her mouth before it retracts. Slowly, Jaime falls to her knees. She appears to murmur something repeatedly. Her lips forming the word "join" over and over as she reaches up to stroke the creature's pulsating shaft. The lights and camera briefly flicker off. As they come back on, the lab is bathed in the dim red glow of the emergency lights. Beta-0001 drops into a crouch, backing away from the near catatonic Dr Saunders. Jaime's head lolls forward, slowly turning to look in the direction of the door to the lab. Slowly, she lies down, face first as an Alpha-class specimen scuttles into view.

The lighting flickers again as does the camera. Jaime can be seen writhing on the ground with the Alpha-class specimen pressed against her back. It's tendrils and legs flail wildly as it plunges them into her arms, legs, vagina, ass and mouth. It's smaller limbs digging into the back of her rib cage. It quickly becomes apparent that her squirming isn't resistance, but rather pleasure. Her hips grind against the floor as the tendrils in her orifices all begin to undulate, pumping an alien secretion into her shuddering body. Where it's legs are wriggling into her limbs, it's carapace seems to be extending, growing to form a protective sheath over her body.

Beta-0001 steps back into focus, seemingly admiring the process of the Alpha-class Specimen fusing to Dr Saunders. It looks up at the camera, almost staring directly into the viewer's eyes as its cock trickles with thick pre-cum. Jaime's arms and legs seem to stretch as the carapace grows around her.

* * *

DR N. ASHMORE Personal Email to <private> - 2147 hours, 03/20/2049

"Hope this finds you well old friend,

We're working on something really exciting at the moment. Genuine opportunity of a lifetime stuff.

We're currently entertaining some guests at home that are truly out of this world, I'm sure you'd love to get to know them.

You know the drill.

N."

Reply received 1 hour later.

"It's been too long N,

You're right. We'd love to get to know your guests. We'd be very interested in entertaining them for a while, if you'd care to send over some particulars so that we can make the necessary arrangements - I'm sure you'd find we can be very accommodating.

* * *

DR S CARLISLE Internal Email to N. Ashmore - 2100 hours, 03/26/2049

Hi Alex,

Further to previous conversations about Jaime's conduct, has she continued to make unusual enquiries about Beta-0001 and its properties?

I've begun to suspect her interests may not be as personal as we initially suspected. There's some highly irregular traffic on her personal email and browsing history I'm awaiting a detailed report on.

She tried talking to me about Beta-0001 today and admittedly, I may have overstepped. I didn't accuse her outright but she did take umbridge with me for querying her integrity. When she tried to counter... well I told her to go and get fucked. She stormed off at that and I haven't seen her since? Please let me know if you have any further contact with her.

Regards,

S Carlisle"

* * *

PERSONAL RECORDING - J. SAUNDERS Mobile Camera Footage - 1140 hours, 03/27/2049

The camera flickers on, showing the examination room. On a table in front of the camera, the Beta Specimen can be seen strapped onto an examination table in the centre of the shot. It's wrists and ankles secured by the heavy, metal cuffs mounted in the table. Its humanoid chest and crotch facing up in clear view of the camera.

"Hey you at home... yeah. You." Purrs Jaime from off-screen, putting on a sultry voice. "It's yaa gurl Jazz, back for one last ride" she continues as she steps into the shot, swathed in a towel and wearing nothing else.

"I know I said I was done filming with men, but as you can see. My friend here?" At that, she slides a hand up the creature's lock, affectionately squeezing the creature's carapace before reaching the pale flesh of it's inner thigh. It's exposed cock immediately twitches in response, rapidly beginning to swell.

"Well he's going to be... out of this world..." she sighs with a wicked grin, dropping her towel to reveal her super model physique. Gracefully, Jaime begins to dance, slowly rolling her hips and shoulders, swaying from side to side as she saunters her way up onto the table. For a minute, she gyrates above its lap, touching herself as she lowers herself towards its engorged member.

"Earlier today, my boss told me to go and get fucked" chuckled the naked scientist "so this is me. Getting fucked." At that, she winked at the camera and dropped her hips. The creature's cock immediately pressed deep into her entrance, its balls rapidly swelling as the creature jerked its hips up to meet her.

"Oooh. Feisty one, isn't he?" She chuckled, swivelling her hips with a well-practiced motion that draws attention to the creature's shaft as it glides in and out of her.

"What do sat we uhhh... uhh.. ah... AH!" She trails off into a squeal as her body suddenly goes rigid. The cock throbbing in her seems to rapidly swell and shoot up into her dripping, wet entrance.

"Nnn-no... this isn't sposed... n-no!" She croaks, struggling in vain to pull herself from the wildly pulsating member. Her eyes widen, pupils expanding as fear and something else begins to overwhelm her.

"No! No No No! I can't! I... I...uhhh..." she moans in protest as her body slackens. Her eyes roll back until only their whites are showing. Her jaw slackens, drooling as her mouth gapes open. Involuntarily, as if possessed by a mind of their own, her hips begin flexing, vigorously pounding down on the creature's cock for what seems like an eternity. Fifty four minutes and thirty eight seconds, to be precise, of the same continuous imagery.

Ten minutes in, the lighting dims to the red glow of the emergency lights. Neither Jaime or Beta-0001 respond or alter their actions in any way. The same moans and wet slapping sounds. The same motion, over and over as more and more of the creature's seed seems to seep from her and pool on the table beneath them. Finally, the camera's battery runs flat and the screen goes dark.

* * *

DR A. DIO Chemical Research Log - 1400 hours, 03/22/2049

Data further reinforces our understanding that a human exposed to an Alpha-class specimen undergoes considerable internal change as well as external. Despite retaining human appearance on the exposed mouth, chest and genitalia, all of these now function differently.

At some stage in the transformation, human teeth are elongated into fangs by rapid redistribution of calcium and some chain reaction triggered by alteration to the host's saliva. Exactly how this is achieved requires further study. The tongue also seems to experience rapid growth, becoming longer. Additional muscle growth makes it more dexterous and remarkably strong. The tongue now seems to be capable of fulfilling the same function as an Alpha-class specimen's primary tentacles, secreting a thick, viscous fluid.

This fluid is best described as a paralytic sedative that seems to exist weaken and even incapacitate. Presumably, this makes prospective hosts easier targets for an Alpha-class specimen.

The genitalia also sees rapid reconfiguration as regular human semen production seems to cease. The ejaculate that it does produce appears to be a completely sterile, produced as a vestige of human function rather than serving a purpose within the specimen's reproductive cycle. We have speculated this is performed by a secondary phallic organ that seems to remain retracted unless the creature is in proximity to one of its own kind.

We have noted that on each occasion that an Alpha-class specimen is brought within a few meters of Beta-0001, this organ becomes increasingly active and begins to emerge and secrete what we believe is a completely alien fluid used to produce new Alpha-class specimens. How it performs this, remains unknown.

Further study of Beta-0001 is required along with cross-referencing study of Alpha-class specimens.

* * *

SPECIMEN CONTAINMENT SECURITY LOGS Full Report, range 03/27/2049 -03/27/2049

Alpha-class Specimen 0002 returned by Dr S. Carlisle. 1120 hours Alpha-class Specimen 0001 checked out by Dr N. Ashmore 1120 hours Beta Class Specimen 0001 checked out by Dr J. Saunders 1128 hours Beta-class specimen 0001 checked in at examination room 3 by Dr J. Saunders 1132 hours Alpha-class specimen 0003 checked out by Dr A. Dio 1140 hours Alpha-class Specimen 0002 checked out by Dr S. Carlisle. 1145 hours Alpha-class Specimen 0002 returned by Dr S. Carlisle. 1146 hours Alpha-class specimen 0002 records containment breach at 1150 hours Security lock instated by Dr A Dio at 1155 hours Security override entered by Dr S. Carlisle at 1155 hours Alpha-class specimen 0004 checked out by Dr N Ashmore at 1207 hours *Security override countermands breach lockout protocols* *no further activity*

* * *

DR N. ASHMORE Alpha Research Log - 1340 hours, 03/23/2049

Further emphasising Alpha-class specimen's non-terrestrial nature, scans have failed to establish any central brain or cerebral matter. The creature's nervous system instead extends from its body into each of its eight legs and seven tentacles.

The highest concentration of nerve-endings is clustered around its 'mouth' and 'head'. This dome-like section of carapace appears to fasten to the head of a prospective host, so it is logical that this higher concentration of nerve tissue is used to connect with the brain of the host.

Dr Dio has speculated the creature may retain the host's cerebral matter to expand its own consciousness and pilot the more complex functions of its host body. What we know and have observed of Beta-0001suggests that an Alpha-class specimen will take on behaviours of its host form when it becomes Beta-class. Whether this is an adaptive hunting instinct or an attempt to blend in, remains unclear.

* * *

DR J. SAUNDERS Alpha Research Log - 1630 hours, 03/24/2049

On the underside of all Alpha-class specimens, is a fleshy underbelly lined with what was mistakenly identified as tiny bristles. These are in fact, smaller versions of the seven tentacles sprouting from the creature's carapace. These tiny tendrils are roughly an inch long, needle-thin and incredibly tense, giving the appearance of course hairs.

Under extremely controlled circumstances, Dr Ashmore has been able to coerce these mini-tendrils into moving. They seem drawn towards tissue containing nerve endings and will begin secreting a thick, clear fluid if they can be tricked into thinking they have breached the skin of a prospective host. Further reinforcing the hypothesis that these are what the Alpha-class specimen uses to bond to a host, we observed that upon failure to connect to a viable nervous system, the tendrils are retracted in favour of resuming the search for a viable host.

CCTV LOG Corridor 3 - 1520 hours, 03/27/2049

Dr Alex Dio can be seen slipping out of her white lab coat as she steps through a bulkhead door that hasn't even finished opening, to enter the corridor. Her stride slows as specimen Beta-0001 advances toward her from the opposite end of the corridor. She holds her hand up, as if to halt the creature. At first, the creature's stride seems to slow and Alex can be seen slowly getting onto her knees, arms held above her head in surrender.

Beta-0001 steps forward, blocking the camera's view of Alex. Her hands can be seen gently resting on its hips as her head begins bobbing up and down near its waist. The creature leans back and appears to let out a long growl or howl before reaching down to press its hand against the back of Alex's head. It's hips start to flex as it begins to violently thrust its cock down her throat. Alex's hands clench and begin scrambling against the smooth surface of the creature's black chitin. Eventually her hands squeeze into fists, beating against the creature's thighs in vain.

After a few minutes, her hands fall to the ground, limp, motionless. Fountains of thick white slime gush from between the creature's leg as Alex's head begins to bob again. Eventually the creature pulls free, stepping back and allowing Alex to be fully visible again. The front of her blouse is caked in slime, the same fluid dripping from her mouth as it hangs open. Her face is completely blank as she sits motionless in a near catatonic state.

A second Beta-class specimen crawls into view. Hunched over on all fours, it cautiously makes its way to Alex's side. The newcomer is identical to the first Beta-class specimen except her figure is more slender, her exposed human features distinctly feminine and eerily close to those of Dr Nora Ashmore. The female Beta reaches out, gently touching Alex's chin to tilt her head up. Alex slowly moves her mouth and lips, as if she is struggling to plead. The second Beta smiles a wicked grin, revealing her long fangs in place of her human teeth. She licks her lips as Alex tries to mimic her.

As the women draw closer, the first Beta specimen clasps the rump of Dr Ashmore's shiny black legs and pulls her hips towards his. It's cock unfurls, writhing it's way into her from behind. Dr Ashmore gasps before seizing Alex, pushing her under her all while furiously kissing her open mouth. In no time at all, the female Beta has ripped Alex's blouse open, cast aside her pants and torn her underwear open. She hungrily roams Alex's body, kissing and licking her neck, squeezing and sucking her tits. Her elongated tongue can be seen playing with Alex's nipple in several frames of footage.

Alex lies limp beneath the two Beta specimens, weakly gyrating against the female while the male repeatedly climaxes in both of the women. At first it seems as though the creature is alternating between them. But when Dr Ashmore pulls herself free, her exposed belly swollen and distended, a secondary penis can be seen vibrating in Dr Dios's exposed vagina. Throwing an arm over the Beta specimen's shoulder, Dr Dio pulls herself up just enough to expose her back to the eagerly awaiting Alpha-class specimen that is entering the corridor.

Alex appears to cry out "Do it" as she orgasms.

The Alpha-class specimen leaps onto her, rapidly fusing with her spine as its tendrils rapidly cast aside the tattered remains of her clothing before plunging into her. As she writhes and transforms, Dr Ashmore and Beta-0001 both appear to look directly into the camera and smile.

* * *

CCTV LOG Specimen Containment - 1150 hours, 03/27/2049

Dr Alex Dio enters the area. She moves to check out Alpha-class specimen 0002 when the creature suddenly leaps forward, knocking the hatch to its containment Unit wide open. Dr Dio shrieks and stumbles backwards as the creature rushes toward her. She reaches for the emergency override but misses as she trips and falls.

The creature pounces as Dr Dio rolls onto her back. The creature's tendrils whip around her arms as she tries to hold it off. It's flailing legs snag on her coat as it tries to pull itself onto her. She appears to keep her mouth clamped shut, straining not to scream as one of its tendrils slithers around and against her lips. For a moment, it appears to penetrate her lips, a thick dribble of white fluid dripping from the corner of her mouth before she brings her knees up to push the creature away, dislodging it's tentacle from her mouth.

At that moment, Dr Carlisle enters the room in a hurry and dives for a weapon in the security locker by the door. The two women scream continuously as Dr Carlisle races to load, cock and fire the standard-issue service pistol. Several bullets tear into the Alpha-class specimen, its black-blue ichor spattering across the floor as it spasms and collapses in a heap.

Dr Carlisle carefully approaches Dr Dio and helps her up, seeming to ask if she had any contact with the creature, if it got anything on her. Dr Dio shakes her head and seems to be trying to keep the spatter of white slime on her coat out of sight. When Dr Carlisle notices, she tries to force Dr Dio buy is pushed aside. Dr Dio makes a break for the door, closing it behind her. Dr Carlisle fires two more shots that go wide, pinging off the outside corridor as the door shuts.

Dr Carlisle moves to start punching her authorisation code in a keypad by the door. The door slowly opens as lighting dims to the red hue of the emergency lights. Carlisle races to the outside corridor. Several seconds later, there are two flashes of gunfire. Then nothing.

* * *

DR S. CARLISLE Internal Email to N. Ashmore - 2110 hours, 03/23/2049

"Nora,

Thank you for voicing your concern about the integrity of project Scryer Ascendant. Forgive the formal acknowledgement of an otherwise casual conversation, but given the severity of its potential outcomes, you realise I do need to put this in writing.

As such, in response to the noted unusual behaviours and the noted increase in personal email usage, I have arranged unrestricted temporary access to the internal Intranet and outgoing communications.

If one of the team is breaching their NDA or engaging in unauthorised activity, there's no one more capable of getting to the bottom of it.

Happy hunting,

Sydney"

* * *

DR N. ASHMORE Internal Email to S. Carlisle - 2143 hours, 03/26/2049

"Heya Syd,

So the more I've looked into it, I think you're more right to have your suspicions than you realise.

It's not Jaime or Alex. Something is up with both of them.

Looks like Jaime is about to turn in her resignation and that coincides with a massive deposit to a bank account she's accessing. There's also a lengthy email trail between her and an off-site address discussing our guests.

Something is up with Alex too. A ton of emails between her and a private Head Office file. My gut says HR. She's been talking to Jaime a lot the last few days... I'd wager it's a bullying allegation?"

"Cheers Nora.

At least someone has my back. Don't worry about Jaime and Alex. Nothing we can't handle.

Maybe take tomorrow off? Seems it might be an eventful day in the labs.

Thanks,

Syd."

* * *

CCTV LOG N. Ashmore, Personal Quarters - 1150 hours, 03/27/2049

Camera shows Nora showering in the cubicle located in her bathroom. On the periphery of the camera, something can be seen moving across the ceiling. Nora is lathered in soap, her eyes held firmly shut as she fails to notice the limbs and tentacles scuttling across the ceiling above her.

As she begins lathering her hair with shampoo, the shape can be seen crawling down the wall of the shower. The thin insect-like legs, shiny black body and mass of writhing black tentacles leaves no room for doubt this is an Alpha-class specimen. Free of its containment, creature is drawn to the warmth of the shower and the even warmer body within. It's tentacles wiggle with greater vigour as it draws closer, it's legs raised like a spider ready to pounce.

Nora turns to face the creature pounces, opening her eyes and appearing to scream as it leaps forwards. Recoiling, she slips as the creature springs towards her. Her shoulder strikes the glass of the shower cubicle, causing it to fracture as she collapses. As she falls, the creature's tendrils whip around her outstretched arms. Writhing on the floor of the shower, she struggles as the creature pulls itself close to her body. She appears to scream several times before the creature spews a torrent of white slime over her mouth and chest. She sputters and coughs, shuddering as her arms begin to slacken.

One by one, the creature's tendrils begin to punch their way into her orifices, its legs sliding into the flesh above her ribs and on her limbs. Her body begins to shiver as it is wracked by intense sensations. Her hips quiver as they begin to slowly gyrate against the tentacle pulsating inside her vagina. For several minutes, she lies in the shower, squirming in the creature's grip as it begins visibly fusing to her. Her eyes begin to roll as its carapace begins extending across her arms, legs and back. With a final, twitching kick, she appears to orgasm and pass out, thick streams of slime dripping from her mouth and vagina as the creature continues to fuse with her. The lights and footage flicker before the power goes out.

When the feed resumes, the room is lit by the dim, red glow of the emergency light. The shower is still running, but the cubicle is empty. It's glass walls are shattered, exploded outwards as if something massive inside had broken free.

* * *

DR A. DIO Internal Report to <redacted> - 2000 hours, 03/23/2049

I have now collected sufficient data on the fluids produced by the Beta-class specimen. As part of the Bravo imperative, this information has not been disclosed to the group as a wider whole.

There are several irregularities in the creature's saliva and ejaculate that I am researching further. Initial analysis indicates the presence of chemicals commonly found in over the counter aphrodisiacs, albeit with far greater concentration for tremendous doses. It has been easy to mislabel this as a paralytic as there are sedatives occurring within this mixture as well. My hypothesis is that the Beta-class specimen induces a state of euphoric paralysis to not only increase the likelihood of an Alpha-class specimen bonding to a subject. It makes them more receptive, maybe even complicit in the subsequent transformation by associating the process with a dizzying erotic high.

There is a third component to the chemical that seems to be a sort of biological adapter. A microcellular compound that bonds to the recipient's DNA. Placing foreign genetic material near the chemical seems to have a magnetic effect on the chemical, as it is drawn to the foreign cells and rapidly attaches to them. Without providing a larger, more complex sample, I cannot yet confirm if this triggers initial stages of mutation in a potential Beta-class specimen or if it simply serves as the medium that allows an Alpha-Class specimen to bond with its host without any risk of rejection.

Request permission to assess potential specimens for further testing to verify this theory.

* * *

DR A. DIO Final Entry, Internal Report to <redacted> - 1512 hours, 03/27/2049

As instructed, final assessment has been performed. Subject response to Alpha-class specimen has exceeded all expectations in every respect.

Previous notes hypothesised a lack of cognitive function retained in Beta-class specimens, but the introduction of Beta-0002 and Beta-0003 has disproved this. Newly created Beta-class specimens do not experience reduced cognitive function or diminished individuality, rather a redistribution of personal preferences. We now know that Beta-class specimens are capable of limited communication, 0001 has simply withheld this until now.

Anticipating we will have Beta-0003 any moment now. While this will mean my personal target is achieved, I will be respectfully declining the opportunity to depart project Scryer Ascendant.

I believe I can do far greater things by remaining here.

* * *

CCTV LOG, Specimen Containment - 1145 hours, 03/27/2024

Dr Carlisle can be seen entering the containment lab. She frowns, appearing perplexed that two of the Alpha-class Specimens and Beta-0001 are checked out. Looking over her shoulder she adjusts the temperature control, lowering the room to 30 degrees.

Shivering, she carefully approaches Alpha-class specimen 0002, enters her authorisation and pulls the containment unit free. Satisfied that the Alpha-class specimen is completely inert, she fiddles with the latch on the containment unit and pushes it back into the storage area.

She takes a deep breath, grimaces and proceeds to attempt calling someone on her phone. As she exits the containment room, she adjusts the temperature to 60 degrees.

* * *

DR N. ASHMORE Personal Email to <private> - 2200 hours, 03/23/2049

Personal Email to encrypted offsite user

I can't believe it, you were right, Syd's more gullible than even I thought possible.

I've got full run of communications. It's a lot. I can get you so much more than we initially discussed. We're talking videos. Procedures. Dirt. Enough dirt to bury the Science Division and everyone here.

And I know just where to start. I've attached a free sample. You'll see what I can offer, but I'm going to need you to up the initial deposit and be ready to pay her accordingly.

Yours,

Attached is a url link to an adult entertainment site that opens to a library of videos for a performer titled 'Jazz'.

* * *

UNKNOWN SENDER External Email to J Saunders - 2300 hours, 03/24/2049

"Greetings Dr Saunders,

Or do you prefer "Jazzy"? Don't be shy, you never used to be.

It's been a while since your last appearance and we're very interested in bringing you out of retirement. We figure you won't mind mixing business and pleasure one last time. After all, this is how you paid off your student loans, isn't it?

Do not delete this email. Do not ignore it and if you mention it to Dr Carlisle or the others, we will know.

Refuse us in any way and the entire science division will receive a collection of your greatest hits. We've attached a preview for you to review, it's understandable why you never released some of these but we'll gladly remedy that if you aren't interested in recording some new material.

Don't keep us waiting.

There is a near immediate reply from Dr J. Saunders.

"Alright... you make a compelling argument. What's the scene?"

Another swift reply from unknown address

"You have a very unusual guest.

We'd like to see you entertain him.

Dr J. Saunders replies half an hour later

"Do you have any idea what you're asking? Besides getting an audience with him, there are risks. Unknowns. There is no precedent for such a thing."

An immediate reply

"We've accessed the work you've done with Dr Dio. It's promising. Take a few days to prepare, keep it safe, make some history and you'll be more than adequately compensated.

Boldly go where no woman has gone before and you can retire the next day. We've already deposited a 50% down payment to your personal account. You'll get the remaining 50% once we receive the video and an ongoing 2.2% royalty once it's live.

You can retire as the most high paid anonymous performer in recent history. The alternative is far less discreet.

You have 2 days,

X."

Dr Saunders replies minutes later. Metadata shows her personal bank accounts was briefly logged into and viewed prior to writing her email.

"Duly noted"

* * *

DR A. DIO Internal Report to <redacted> - 1800 hours, 03/25/2049

"Staff Update.

Dr Carlisle's suspicions are completely misplaced. She believes Dr J. Saunders is leaking information to an external informant. However closer review of internal communications shows that Dr N. Ashmore is liaising with a third party to blackmail Dr Saunders into initiating a close encounter with Beta-0001. Normally, I would intervene, but I do not need to elaborate that allowing this to play out would allow us to indirectly proceed with the Bravo Imperative.

Dr Ashmore however will require a more direct approach. This security breach should be neutralised urgently to keep the project contained. Recommending her for exposure to Alpha-class specimen per my earlier request for additional Beta-specimens."

Reply received six hours later

"Att: Dr A Dio

You have greenlight. Proceed at your own discretion."

* * *

CCTV LOG Specimen Containment - 1207 hours, 03/27/2049

Motion detected in Specimen containment, prompting a brief recording.

A slender, Beta-class specimen crawls across the floor. It seems to sniff out the ichor and corpse of an Alpha-class specimen. It hisses and recoils before darting towards the containment units. Facial detection software indicates Dr Nora Ashmore is present in the room.

As the Beta-class specimen approaches the containment blocks, it rears up onto its back legs, exposing a naked female chest and waist along with the sharp chin and lips of Dr Ashmore. Its pale skin is criss-crossed with dark veins that seem to spread as she breathes heavily. She smiles as she looks directly at the camera before turning to the containment unit. Her clawed hand slowly taps at the keypad.

The hatch on Alpha-class specimen 0004 pips open. It crawls forward, slopping out of its glass cage, the only specimen remaining in the room. All the other units are empty. The Beta-class specimen that looks like Nora smiles and moans as she strokes the creature, it's spindly body nuzzling against her before it scampers away out of the room. Dr Ashmore drops to all fours and bounds after it.

* * *

CCTV LOG Corridor 5, Specimen Containment Access - 1156 hours, 03/27/2049

Dr Sydney Carlisle can be seen running from the Specimen containment room. Something at a T-junction in the corridor startles her. She raises the pistol she carries, aiming to her left and fires two shots before the gun appears to be empty. Dr Carlisle pats her pockets and appears to realise she has no amount to reload. She screams as Beta-0001 comes into view from the T-junction. She throws her pistol at it and tries to run.

Completely unphased, the creature lunges forward, seizing her by the ankle and dragging her towards it. Dr Carlisle screams, punching and kicking as the creature slowly straddles her, pinning her arms to the ground.

2 more Beta-class specimens slink into focus. Both are slender, more angular than Beta-0001. Their exposed human features are distinctly feminine, their breasts swaying beneath them as they move. Both have deathly pale skin, one possesses vestiges of short blonde hair, the other long, curly and auburn. They both move to either side of Dr Carlisle and Beta-0001. Facial recognition indicated Dr N Ashmore and Dr J Saunders are now in the corridor with Dr Carlisle and Beta-0001.

They appear to whisper to her, their hips gyrating against the floor as they stroke and lick her face. Slowly, they tug at her white coat as Beta-0001 leans down to nuzzle at her neck. The auburn haired Beta-class specimen with a mouth like Jamie's, leans back to sit on her knees. She appears to be boasting, crowing triumphantly as she strokes her belly. It seems to squirm in response, enlarging slightly as its darkened veins seem to pulsate. Dr Carlisle appears horrified. Her lips seem to say "No, God, Jamie no!" before Beta-0001 leans down to kiss her long and hard on the lips.

This is interrupted when the blonde-haired specimen rears up and hisses. Her nostrils flare as she turns towards the Specimen containment room. Beta-0001 releases Dr Carlisle suddenly, trails of slime dripping from its maw as it turns to face the containment room. The Jaime Beta clutches her head and shrieks as though she were grieving.

While they are distracted, Dr Carlisle wriggles out from beneath Beta-0001 and makes a run for it. Her lips trembling as she coughs up thick globs of slime. Jaime Beta notices and shrieks as she leaps to her feet. Beta-0001 stands on the spot, snarling and roaring.

Eventually, an Alpha-class specimen scuttles past, followed by the Nora Beta. Beta-0001 tilts it's head as if asking a question. Nora shares her head before nuzzling against Beta-0001's domed forehead. Her right claw trails down his chest until it reaches the base of his shaft. Beta-0001 responds by hitching her left leg up as he presses her against the wall. His cocks immediately thrust into her and Nora begins nodding enthusiastically as he slams in and out of her. Periodically the two exchange sloppy kisses as Beta-0001's cocks pump her full of inhuman cum.

After forty minutes of this, he releases her, his cocks sliding free with a messy splatter. Nora's mouth trembles. She clutches her stomach and smiles a broad toothy grin as it begins to wriggle and swell. Beta-0001 sprints down the corridor. Nora remains stroking her belly before gracefully sauntering after him.

* * *

DR A. DIO Internal Report to <redacted> - 1100 hours, 03/26/2049

Upon further calculation, I have a detailed proposal for Bravo imperative. At risk of internal controversy, Dr Nora Ashmore is our prime candidate. Per my previous correspondence, I believe it is best to "two birds, one stone" our issue.

I understand that her previous affiliation with Dr Carlisle presents ethical challenges that Dr Carlisle will be reluctant to accept. However if the matter is a tragic accident, I believe we can persuade her Dr Ashmore's selfless dedication would want her misfortune to serve the greater good. I will obtain what I need and ensure Dr Ashmore is not disturbed while they become acquainted. I will need temporary security overrides so that I can scrub the record, otherwise Dr Carlisle will be able to follow the logs.

Should a back-up be required, Dr Saunders seems to be eager to conduct a more personal examination of Beta-0001. I believe she is intending to proceed with Dr Ashmore's aforementioned proposal. I will not intervene unless instructed to, as I believe there is scientific merit for us, even if that isn't her motivation.

* * *

DR J. SAUNDERS Email to <Unknown User> - 0730 hours, 03/27/2049

"Alright.

You'll have my 'research' after midday, when I see you've made good on your end. You can talk a big game, but I'm the one doing the work. You'll get a preview. But if you want the whole thing, I get what I'm owed. Then we're square."

Immediate reply

"Of course Jazzy. A deal is a deal, you have our word.

Enjoy the ride.

X."

* * *

DR N. ASHMORE Personal Email to <redacted> - 0800 hours, 03/27/2049

"Dr Saunders will be conducting her study later today. I will be making arrangements to ensure that what transpires is handled with the upmost discretion, as far as Dr Carlisle or Dr Dio will know, her personal aspirations will be met with terrible misfortune.

We will then have a prime opportunity for further study of the Beta-class specimen. Science Division will want it transported off-site and your associates can move to acquire while the asset in transit.

You get a return on your investment in days rather than years. When you need a head of research for your project, you have my contacts. You'd do well to consider what I'm capable of if we make it official.

Reply received an hour later

"Promises Doctor.

Once we have more than promises, we'll talk."

* * *

CCTV LOG Corridor 19 - 1750 hours, 03/27/2049

Three female Beta-class specimens are slamming against and scratching the door to Dr Carlisle's quarters. They appear to howl and moan, periodically exchanging physical affection as they appear to call out to whoever is locked inside the room.

One of the females is heavily pregnant, her stomach bulging as she steps back and drops into a squat. The slimmest of the three females seems to hold a handheld device as she moves to support her pregnant peer. The two women relax as a large egg is slowly laid in a puddle of slime beneath the pregnant specimen.

The third continues to beat her fists on the door to Dr Carlisle's quarters. Facial recognition indicates that Dr Ashmore, Saunders and Dio are all present in the corridor.

The third female screeches as her own belly continues to distend while the slim hybrid moves of screen. Shadows suggest that Beta-0001 is present and copulating with the slim specimen of screen. The one that laid its egg rises to her feet with a triumphant shriek. Her belly slender and taut as though she hadn't just passed an egg the size of a basketball.

The door can be seen opening as Dr Carlisle stumbles out, clutching and pulling at her clothes as her body begins to convulse. She relaxes into the embrace of the two female hybrids on screen. Facial recognition indicates that Dr Saunders and Dr Ashmore are present. The two of them caress and kiss Dr Carlisle, seemingly whispering assurances as they begin lathering her in their saliva.

Footage begins flickering as base power begins to fluctuate.

The last clear image shows a naked Dr Carlisle being carried away by the two female specimens.

* * *

DR A. DIO Personal Memo - 1433 hours, 03/27/2049

SO. GOOD.

WOULD NOT. BELIEVE. GOOD. SO GOOD. I SEE. I SEE CLEAR NOW. WE ARE. WILL BE. SO GOOD. NORA. JAIME. SO GOOD. FEEL THEM. FEEL HIM. SCRATCHING IN MY BRAIN. NOT BAD. GOOD. SO GOOD.

EVERYONE. SHOULD FEEL GOOD.

IM MATE. MATE NOW. HIS MATE. ALL OF US. BIRTH. SO MUCH BIRTH. SOON.

- there are several screenshots attached of Dr Alex Dio appearing to take self portraits as the Alpha-class specimen fuses itself to her body.

- a shaky video is attached, a loud huffing, panting growl can be heard as claws can be seen grappling with the camera.

"Loooook... Loooooooook. Ussss. So... goooood." Rasps Dr Dio as the camera is turned to face her. Her human mouth twists into a wide, gaping smile that shows off her freshly sprouted fangs. Her long tongue lolls from the side of her mouth, dripping with spit as she pans the camera up and down her altered body.

"Sooo... good..." she moans, Tracing her free hand over her mons, a shrill chirp comes from her as she runs her hand up over her belly.

"Joinnnn... show why. Join. Coooome... joinnnn..." she croons as the camera cuts out.

* * *

DR A. DIO Personal Recording- 1752 hours, 03/27/2049

The camera shudders into operation as scrambling claws struggle to point it at a second female Beta-class specimen. Alex purrs as she kisses and nips at the other female.

"Jaaaaime. So... goooddd..." she huffs as the other female nuzzles her and growls softly. Her pale belly is swollen and distended as her vagina begins to spread open with a wet slurp. She rasps as Alex begins affectionately stroking her belly.

Slowly, a large, fleshy blue pod begins to slide free from Jaime's vagina. Thick trails of purple slime cascade around the egg, providing a thick slimy cushion for the Pod to land in.

Alex is making inhuman snarls and grunts as she hungrily stares at the pod. Behind her, Beta-0001 moves into focus, its claws clasp the exposed inner thighs of Alex's legs. She quivers and orgasms briefly.

"Mmmm my. My turn. MY! TURNNNN!" She howls as Beta-0001 clearly plunges into her from behind. She shrieks and drops the camera, leaving it pointed up at them from where it landed. For forty eight minutes, Beta-0001 vigorously pounds at her, its cocks constantly undulating as it fills the wailing, thrashing Alex creature. Eventually it pullsfree with a wet slap and gently lays her on the ground.

Alex stares into the camera, puffing and mumbling as her body heaves with each ragged breath.

"Good. So good. Mate. I'm mate. Join us... joinnn ussss..." she purrs as she groggily reaches for the camera, smiling blissfully before the camera ceases recording.

DR J. SAUNDERS Mobile upload - 2300 hours, 03/27/2049

Found. Everything I can. Sharing. Like we share. Not afraid any more. Want to be seen. Want you all see.

Watch me. Enjoy me. Watch us all. See us. Real us. Who we meant to be.

Pleasure.

Join us. Do more than watch. Join us.

Attached are the video logs you have been viewing and the video Jaime 'Jazzy' Saunders attempted to make when the incident occurred. There is also 786 photos and clips in a public cloud storage folder. Each image showing the women in varying states of ecstasy as they lay their eggs, make out with one another and observe Carlisle's transformation. Almost half the images are graphic close-ups of the womenas they take turns being impregnated by Beta-0001, all taken by Alex's mobile.

As well as your email, this has been sent to every address in the company email. It went live on the internet moments before. Every adult site Jaime was ever published on.

Now everyone knows what's happening down there, what they're offering...

So. Will you?

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ghosttotheparty · 1 year

Text

love me softly (ds3)

love me softly (deleted scenes)

Chrissy wipes her cheek one last time, taking a shuddering breath as she fiddles with her key in her lap. She’s eyeing Eddie’s front door, hesitating, trying to stop crying.

She drops her head to the steering wheel, sighing heavily. Her hands are shaking, and the sound of doors slamming is echoing in her head.

She tugs down the hem of her skirt when she gets out of her car, irritated by how the denim rides up when she sits, and she hops up the steps to Eddie’s front door, knocking tentatively.

The door swings open after a few moments, and Eddie blinks at her, his eyes shining.

“Hey, babe,” he says lightly, his eyes flicking back and forth between hers. She knows it’s obvious she’s been crying. “You okay? What’s going on?”

“Uh.” She takes a breath. “I did it.”

“Did… it,” he repeats blankly.

“I dumped Jason.”

He blinks.

“Oh.” He opens the door wider, and she steps inside, her hands shaking, her eyes burning. “How was it? You okay?”

“Wasn’t great,” she says, laughing humourlessly, a tear falling, and she wipes it quickly. “He wasn’t happy.”

“He didn’t do anything, did he?” Eddie asks, his voice lower as he turns to look at her. “Chrissy, I swear I’ll kill him—”

“He didn’t,” Chrissy says quickly. “He just… said some stuff. Accused me other cheating. And some other stuff.”

“Christ,” Eddie mutters, leaning closer and wiping her cheek. “You alright?”

She shrugs weakly, squeezing her eyes shut.

“I just…”

“What are you feeling?” Eddie asks softly, kissing her forehead.

“I’m so— I’m so glad to be done with him, I just…” She takes a gasping breath, reaching up to hold Eddie’s wrists tightly, tears falling down her face freely now. She doesn’t bother trying to hold them back. “Jason and I— We were supposed to be my future, and I— I don’t know what to do, Eddie, I—”

She lets out a sob, and he kisses her forehead again, murmuring softly.

“Chris, sweetheart, listen to me.”

She blinks her eyes open, looking up at him as he wipes her tears carefully.

“You are a whole entire person,” he says, and she lets out a small laugh. “You don’t need him.”

“I don’t need him,” she repeats quietly, and he nods. “I just…”

“…Hug?”

She nods, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, and he hugs her tightly, arms strong around her waist, lifting her up. Her legs dangle down and she buries her face in his hair, crying.

He sways with her, turning his head to kiss her, whispering that she’s okay.

“You know how proud I am of you?” he murmurs. She shakes her head. “So fuckin’ proud, Chrissy, you’re fucking incredible.”

Her arms tighten around him, and he hugs her tighter, swaying again.

“You wanna stay here tonight?” he asks when she stops crying after a while. She nods, sniffling and wiping her cheek. “C’mere, you can borrow some clothes.”

He leads her to his room after she kicks her shoes off pausing to snatch some tissues to wipe her cheeks and under her eyes, carefully cleaning away her runny mascara.

“There you go, pretty girl.”

She gives him a watery smile.

“Thanks, Eddie.”

He finds her a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that he definitely stole from Steve. (Chrissy can tell because it’s pale blue, standing out in his closet.) He leaves while she changes, and she looks around as she does, at all his posters and tapestries and his wall full of Steve’s art. She stops to look at the art when she’s dressed, after setting her skirt and shorts and blouse and bra in a chair near Eddie’s desk.

She never knew Steve Harrington is an artist. She doesn’t think anybody knows, except Eddie and his Uncle Wayne.

Her eyes follow the overlapping paper, the pieces of tape and thumbtacks, the colourful marker and pen ink and the dark smudges of pencil. She recognizes Eddie’s eyes in one, paired with Steve’s loopy handwriting, and in another she sees who she thinks might be Eddie and Steve sitting side by side.

She rubs his cheek with the sleeve of Eddie/Steve’s hoodie when she leaves Eddie’s room, shutting the door behind herself and hearing Eddie’s voice down the small hallway.

“…sounds good, Stevie, thank you. …I love you too, baby. Drive safe.”

Chrissy stops by the kitchen as he’s hanging up, and he looks up at her, smiling.

“You had a date tonight,” she says, forlorn. “Didn’t you.”

“It’s fine, Chris.”

“Eddie-e-e…”

“Chrissy-y-y…” he mimics, taking her in his arms and swaying with her dramatically. “It’s okay, my dearest.”

“But you had a date.”

“Look, Chris. Steve and I are big boys. We focus on our priorities. And tonight you need a little extra lovin’ so we’re gonna give it to you, ‘kay?”

She looks up at him, sighing heavily.

“He’s coming over right now,” Eddie continues. “And he’s bringing pizza, and I bet he’s also gonna get some ice cream but he doesn’t know we already have his favourite in the freezer.” He whispers the last part, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that makes Chrissy giggle.

“Okay,” she says softly.

“Go cuddle up on the sofa,” he tells her, pecking her cheek.

She does just that, grabbing one of the many blankets that are strewn around the living room and sitting in the corner of the sofa, wrapping the blanket around herself and sighing.

She wonders where Jason is. If he’s telling his friends, complaining about Chrissy. Saying those things, that Chrissy’s a slut, that she was cheating. She’d never do that. She thought he knew that. That he trusted her. Loved her.

She loved him. Even if it wasn’t in the way he thought, in the way she wishes she could have loved him.

Chrissy squeezes her eyes shut, lowering her head to her knees. Eddie brings her a mug of tea after a few minutes.

When Steve arrives he makes a beeline to Chrissy, pausing only to set the pizza box and a plastic bag on the kitchen counter. He flops onto the sofa next to her dramatically, looking up at her with pretty puppy dog eyes.

“How you doin’?”

She smiles, holding her mug between her hand.

“‘M okay.”

“I’m proud of you,” he whispers, squishing his cheek against her shoulder, and she can’t help but smile.

“Sorry for ruining your date night,” she says softly, listening to Eddie find plates in the cabinets. Steve clicks his tongue at her.

“Chrissy Cunningham, you are incapable or ruining anything.”

She suppresses another smile, and he reaches up to pull her into a hug, pressing a hard, loud kiss to her cheek that makes her giggle.

“You know what’ll make you feel better?” Steve asks, pulling away and looking at her again.

“What?”

“Butterscotch ice cream. I got some on the way over, it’s the best.”

Chrissy giggles again, beaming when Eddie says, “What did I tell you?” from the kitchen.

“What’s happening?” Steve asks, glancing over his shoulder at Eddie but still holding Chrissy, smiling softly despite his confusion.

“He said you’d bring ice cream.”

Steve makes a face at her.

“It’s almost like he knows me or something.”

He smacks three more loud kisses (Mwah, mwah, mwah!) on her cheeks and forehead before he gets up to help Eddie.

Eddie sits in the middle while they watch Desperately Seeking Susan, and when they finish eating Chrissy wraps her arms around Eddie’s arm, holding it to herself and laying on his shoulder.

Steve gets up to bring them ice cream. Chrissy stares it in her bowl for a moment, forgetting about the movie, watching the way it shines, her mother’s voice clawing at the back of her head like it’s trying to escape the cellar Chrissy’s pushed it into.

Eddie nudges her softly.

“You got it,” he murmurs quietly.

She nods, taking a deep breath.

The ice cream is sweet.

It’s almost melted by the time she finishes it because she eats it so slow, each bite intentional and careful, fully aware of every mouthful, and she looks down at the empty bowl when she’s done. At the little pool of melted ice cream at the bottom of it, at her spoon reflecting the movie.

She pauses, staring for a moment longer before she takes a breath, steeling herself, and she lifts the bowl to her lips, tipping her head back and draining it the way she saw Steve do it earlier. When she lowers the bowl, she sees Eddie glance at her, smiling to himself.

She puts the bowl down and leans against Eddie again, who reaches for her legs, pulling them up onto his lap and squeezing three times gently.

She holds his arm again, letting her cheek squish against his shoulder, trying to follow along with the movie, dismissing the urge to go to the bathroom. Eddie’s hands keep her steady, squeezing gently at her thigh just above her knee in a way that always made her self conscious when Jason did anything similar, but now she lets the touch envelope her. She knows what it means.

You got it.

She sighs and nuzzles against his shoulder, ignoring the voice in her head saying pizza AND ice cream pizza AND ice cream pizza AND ice cream pizza AND ice cream.

Eddie squeezes her leg like he can hear it too.

She takes a slow breath, closing her eyes.

Pizza and ice cream.

And Eddie’s hand on her leg, and his arm between hers. His shoulder against her cheek, and after a few minutes, his lips against her forehead.

And Steve’s arm reaching around Eddie’s shoulders, his hand finding the back of Chrissy’s neck, his fingers holding her gently, playing with her hair.

And Desperately Seeking Susan playing on the television, turning into white noise as she drifts off against Eddie, her body relaxing.

Her stomach and heart both blissfully full.

#i think i forgot to post this on tumblr idk #if i did here it is again #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #love me softly

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headcanonsandmore · 1 year

Text

'Glad All Over (Cake By The Ocean)', Epilogue

Summary: A soft epilogue for Nyssa and Tegan.

~~~~~~~~~~

Read on AO3.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nyssa headed through the high-street of Tregonnereth.

Summer was slowly turning into a soft autumn, and the town’s summer season had mostly finished, save for a few elderly couples who chose this time of year to holiday in the UK.

Nyssa was glad that she had chosen her long-sleeve lacy blouse. She had sewn it herself, of course, and it paired wonderfully with her long flowing burgundy skirt. She was wearing her pair of Edwardian-style lace-up brogue boots, and delighted in the feeling of the wind gently swaying the fabric.

She had, of course, changed after getting back from work. She wouldn’t have worn this in the practice, but this evening was special.

Smiling softly to herself, Nyssa entered the garage.

She was met with the sight of an Australian dream.

Tegan was dancing to herself, eyes closed and smiling widely. She was wearing her normal overalls, with the top half tied around her waist to reveal a purple crop top. The same purple crop top that she had worn to Pride the previous year. Her muscles worked and bulged as she moved, and Nyssa couldn’t help but marvel.

Had a whole year really passed? As she watched Tegan pirouette in time with the music, Nyssa supposed that -when you were having fun- time really did fly by. But Nyssa didn’t care, because time was made up of those wonderful little moments that she couldn’t help but adore.

“I don't wanna hide my love… I don't wanna waste it…” Tegan sang, along to the music. “But I can't deny the moment when I taste it…”

She punctuated that last line by wrapping her arms around her torso and pirouetting again.

“My heart's a secret, mmm… I think I'm coming alive, yeah… I think I'm coming alive with you…”

Nyssa smiled, feeling her heart well with love for the woman who continued to dance in front of her, apparently oblivious to the outside world.

“Don't give it up… Don't say it hurts… 'Cause there's nothing like this feeling, baby… now that I found you!”

‘Oh, is that so, my darling?’

Tegan’s eyes opened, and she froze where she stood.

‘Nys!’ she exclaimed, happily. ‘Had a good day at work, love?’

‘About the same as ever,’ Nyssa said, with a giggle as she stepped towards Tegan and pressed a kiss to a spot on Tegan’s cheek that didn’t have oil grease on it. ‘Yours?’

‘Pretty good,’ Tegan grinned, grabbing a cloth and wiping her hands with it. ‘Give me five minutes to get cleaned up and I’ll be right with you…’

Nyssa followed Tegan back into the office, which was partitioned away from the rest of the garage, with screens around it.

Without ceremony, Tegan stripped her overalls off, and began washing herself with a flannel at the small sink imbedded into the wall. A year ago, Nyssa might have gotten flustered and looked away, but now she simply inclined her head to get a better view of the Australian’s rear end.

‘I can feel you watching me, love.’

‘You sound surprised,’ Nyssa said, with a grin. ‘Goodness forbid I stare at my gorgeous partner while she’s stood in her knickers.’

Tegan laughed, and began to dry herself off with a towel.

‘You know I’m not complaining,’ she cheeked, turning to smile at Nyssa and pulling on a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt. ‘Goodness knows I stare at you enough.’

The Australian then bent down to dig into her rucksack, and slipped the gold-coloured band onto her ring finger.

‘I’m taking no chances,’ she said, stepping closer to Nyssa and putting her hands around her wait. ‘I am not losing one of our engagement rings inside an engine.’

Nyssa giggled, and cupped Tegan’s face with her hands, kissing her softly on the lips.

‘I know, my darling, and I love you for it.’

Their hands wrapped around each other, and Nyssa pushed Tegan gently up against the desk, the Australian giving a happy squeal as Nyssa hoisted her with surprising strength onto the wooden surface. Their tongues slipped into each other’s mouths. Tegan’s legs parted around Nyssa, and the older woman moaned softly against Nyssa’s lips as their bodies pressed close together, one of Nyssa’s hands slipping inside the half-open flannel to squeeze Tegan’s hip. The other followed it, but travelled upwards, and slipped under the material of the sports bra-

‘Oy! Tegan? Nyssa? Anyone here?’

Nyssa and Tegan froze, tongues in each-others mouths, and they both rolled their eyes, pulling away.

‘Ace!’ Tegan exclaimed, yelling over her shoulder as Nyssa reluctantly removed her hands. ‘You have the worst timing!’

There was the telltale sound of Mel giggling.

With a sigh, Tegan hastily did up her shirt, and climbed off the desk. Nyssa quickly brushed her hair where Tegan’s hands had been roaming. The two women then headed out of the office to where their friends were standing in front of the huge front doors.

‘Town meeting this evening,’ Mel said, with an apologetic grin at Nyssa. ‘Barbara stopped by the practice and requested that we help her set things up.’

‘And Ace is here as well because…’

‘Because she happened to be hiding under the desk at the time,’ Mel replied, without an ounce of embarrassment. ‘And, besides, four pairs of hands are better than three.’

Tegan rolled her eyes.

‘Alright, alright…’ she said, reaching over and wrapping her arm around Nyssa’s waist, giving her a squeeze. ‘We can get the papers ready this evening, anyway.’

Ace frowned, in bafflement.

‘Papers?’

‘Adoption papers, for our new cat,’ Nyssa explained. ‘She’s called Felicity and she’s the other love of my life.’

‘We are not,’ Tegan said, with a chuckle, ‘naming the cat after Felicity Kendal.’

‘Of course we are,’ Nyssa shot back, with a smile. ‘You promised, after all.’

‘Because you asked me during a moment of intense emotion. Nys, at the time, I would have literally yelled “yes” to anything you asked me, owing to the fact that you had your head inbetween my-’

‘Yes, I did do that,’ Nyssa said, with a smile. ‘Funny that, isn’t it.’

‘I bloody love you, Nyssa Traken.’

Nyssa giggled, and pressed a kiss to Tegan’s cheek.

‘Bleurgh,’ Ace retched, making a face. ‘Forget I asked. C’mon, doughnut; let’s go.’

Giggling at the nickname (which Nyssa still didn’t really understand), Mel intertwined her fingers with Ace’s, smiled happily at Nyssa and Tegan, and headed out through the main doors of the garage.

Nyssa stood while Tegan closed up the front doors and hoisted her rucksack onto her back.

‘You ready?’

‘Of course,’ Nyssa replied, intertwining their fingers. ‘It’s going to be wonderful; you, me and Felicity.’

Tegan chuckled.

‘Our little family,’ the Australian said, before kissing Nyssa’s cheek again. ‘Good grief, it doesn’t seem that long ago that I was dumping your shoes in front of you on Tregonnereth beach.’

‘Well, I am glad you did. Otherwise I never would have met you, meaning that I never would have stayed here.’

‘Nah, Nys; you stayed here because you wanted to help people.’

‘Yes… and you helped me. You were there from the very beginning. I was petrified at first because I didn’t think anyone here would enjoy being around me. But you always had my back. Just because you wanted to help. And… I love you for that.’

Tegan’s cheeks flushed.

‘I mean, I did fancy you.’

‘Stop downplaying it; if you hadn’t been you -lovely, kind, wonderful Tegan Jovanka- I would never have decided to stay here.’

‘Makes me sound cooler than I am.’

‘Tegan, you are the coolest person I know, and I’m not even being biased. As well as being my partner, you’re also my best friend.’

Tegan smiled, eyes wide and filled with an immensely soft tenderness.

‘I think Mel would get annoyed about that description.’

‘Okay, she’s my best platonic friend. But you’re my best romantic friend.’

‘Nys, we’re literally engaged to be married.’

‘I know; it’s wonderful, isn’t it.’

Tegan grinned.

‘It’s brilliant. It’s a big step, though; are you sure we’re ready?’

‘Of course we are, Tegan,’ Nyssa said, smiling at the woman who had opened up her world and her heart. The sun was already sinking below the horizon, bathing the two women in a soft, warm glow. ‘We’re indestructible.’

Tegan smiled, and squeezed her fiancé’s hand. They set off towards the town hall.

As Nyssa walked, hand-in-hand with Tegan, through the high-street of the small town, with the soft autumn wind blowing gently through her hair and the sea glistening in the deep orange sunset before them, she knew -in her heart of hearts- that she was home.

The End

~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone! I've had such a wonderful time writing this series, and I'm glad that you have all enjoyed it as well! The comments have been so lovely and encouraging, so thank you so much for sticking with this series!

You won't have to wait long for my next Tegan/Nyssa fic, though; no spoilers, but y'all are in for a... fang-tastic October...

#'glad all over (cake by the ocean)'#doctor who fanfiction #nyssa/tegan #tegan/nyssa #nyssa #nyssa of traken #tegan jovanka #ace/mel #mel/ace #human!nyssa #doctor who #tegan x nyssa #nyssa x tegan #indestructible #heathrow scientific #tyssa

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

Text

Paradigm Shift 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you get transferred to a new position but it’s hardly a breath of fresh air. (plus!reader)

Characters: Loki, Bucky Barnes, this reader is known as Billie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

You have one victory on your first day and it’s hardly that. Laufeyson and Barnes responded but it’s just more work to put on your plate. Now you have to go through and figure out how to balance it all. Well, it’s Friday and you can worry about all of that on Monday.

You head out from the office. You have earned your prize. Drinks. And you’re not going to take it easy, even if Missie tells you to.

You get there later than the others. You barely have enough time to get home and change out of your striped blouse. All you really did was switch out your blazer for a leather jacket.

Georgie is nervous and glum. Her boss is taking her on an impromptu work trip. From what you’ve heard of the guy, he’s a real tool. You envy Izzie as she’s jumping out of planes instead of moping over an office desk. You’ll have to ask her how she got into that.

Before you can put in your order for a double paloma, more tempted to just ask for a straight shot of tequila, a server appears with a tray of drinks. Ugh. You can see the sugar in the colour alone.

“I don’t think that’s for us,” Elfie says before you can.

“Some gentlemen sent them,” the server gestures behind her with her chin.

She unload the tray as you strain to see the creeper buying a round for you. There’s always some loser buzzing around like a gnat. “God, I could use a tequila...” you mutter.

“Who is that?” Rosie asks what you’re all thinking as a man waves and Dizzie waves back. You want to snatch her hand down. She can be so naive.

“That’s my boss,” she explains and your throat locks up. You might just choke on your own damn tongue.

You sit back down and hide your face between your hands. It can’t be but you’re certain at a glance. Dark hair, square jaw, piercing blue eyes. Did he see you too.

“Shit, he’s with my boss!” You hiss.

“Your boss?” Elfie leans in with concern.

“One of them.”

“And... is that... Mr. Rogers?” Rosie chimes. “What are the odds?”

You lift your face and glare at her brightness. She might like her boss but you have been in hell all day. You can’t even begin to explain the shit pile you’ve been handed. Two bosses. Both eager to outdo the other’s assholery.

“It’s so nice of them to send some drinks thought,” Dizzie says.

Rosie agrees but Elfie has the sense to question it, “but why?”

“I won’t deny a free drink..” Missie slurps.

You ignore their chatter and raise your hand above the din. You signal to the server with a fraction of a smile. Fuck this apple bullshit. You need the hard stuff.

The alcohol helps the night along but you can’t shake the presence across the bar. You’re paranoid. It’s too much of a coincidence. More so than Barnes being there but with Rosie and Dizzie’s bosses. You gues their type flock together.

Still, you can’t quite shake it. You keep yourself to two palomas. You won’t risk making a single misstep.

At the end of the night, you head off alone. Usually, you’d split a cab with Elfie but she left early, Georgie too. You yawn and bid goodbye to the rest.

You dive out into the dark and tuck your hands into your pockets. The street is quiet as you step up to the curb. At this hour, it’s only cabs but you don’t see any lurking around. You head down the pavement in search of a ride.

“Billie,” the deep timbre halts you. You blow out between your lips and turn to face Barnes. You're not surprised.

“Mr. Barnes,” you greet.

“Walking home alone?” He asks.

“Trying to find a cab.” You spin back and raise your hand as a yellow car appears around the corner.

“If you need a ride...” he offers.

“No thank you.” You lean in as you flag the driver. He stops just a few feet away to pick up a group of guys. Shit.

“I don’t mind.” He insists.

You shake your head and cross your arms. You continue down the street. You don’t live that far. His footfalls echo yours.

“You know, it wasn’t in the options but I do expect you to flash a smile or too,” he chirps as he comes parallel to you.

“I’m not on the clock.”

“No, you’re not. So how about another drink?”

You scoff and stop. “I don’t mix my personal and professional life.”

“All professional, doll. I’m just congratulating you on your new position.” He smirks as you glance over.

“I gotta get home.”

You walk on and he does too. You get to the corner and harrumph. You stop again.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“With that kinda attitude, you’ll fit right in with Laufeyson.”

You tilt your head as you consider your options. Keep going and lead him home or argue with him some more. Why can’t it just be over?

“I can be a nice guy. You caught me on a bad day,” he says.

“Look, I appreciate the offer, Mr. Barnes.”

“We’re not at work. Bucky’s good.”

“Mr. Barnes,” you repeat. “I’m tired. It was a long day, thank to you, and I need to go home and sleep. Let’s save the niceties for Monday. Please.”

He considers you, his cheek dimpling. His blue eyes scan your grim expression. He snorts.

“Huh, I think I misjudged you, doll.” He reaches to fix the floppy lapel of your jacket. “I really didn’t think you were that much of a tight ass. Guess I’ll just have to loosen it up.” He winks and pulls back, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Be safe,” he turns on his heels, “don’t know what kinda creeps are hanging out around here.”

He struts back towards the bar and you glare after him. Right. You’re dreading Monday even more.

#bucky barnes #loki #dark bucky barnes #dark loki #dark!bucky barnes #dark!loki #loki x reader #bucky barnes x reader #series #drabble #bad bosses #au #marvel #mcu #thor #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

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iironwreath · 2 years

Text

Mirror [Orla]

[ty @solfell for elspeth's voice!]

“Elspeth,” Orla cried, bursting into the Palebloom dining room. “Elspeth, something’s wrong with my face.”

Elspeth set down her tea and swung her legs away from the bay window, concern replacing whatever previous thought she’d had. She hopped off the sil and gestured for Orla to sit in one of the dining chairs. Orla sat hard, twisting her hands in her lap to contain a worried shake.

Orla’s reflection had changed rapidly over the year. With spring came gained weight, less fatigue, more colour to her cheeks, more volume to her hair. She looked less and less like a brittle, dead leaf that would crunch underfoot and more like a healthy, young girl.

She hadn’t realized her conflicted feelings about her reflection until she felt better, fuller. She wouldn’t have called herself self-conscious, but before, she couldn’t help noticing the bruise-coloured hollows under her eyes, or the way her bones strained against the surface of her skin, or the unknowable black growths that cropped up whenever she was exposed to magic. She didn’t want to avoid the mirror or grow resentful, and she observed it with a sort of passive acceptance. It was her body, and she hadn’t chosen to be ill. But Syngorn hadn’t wanted her, and sometimes, it felt like her body hadn’t wanted her, either.

She expected any further changes to be related to what had already changed—she didn’t expect a new mystery condition. She didn’t want anymore surprises from her body, not really. She wanted consistency, and she had finally gotten it. She didn’t want to lose all the progress they’d made.

Elspeth’s hands cupped her face, thumbs palpating along her cheeks. The marks were oblong, sprouting along her cheekbones in a symmetrical pattern. They were colourless, almost clear like a snake’s moult, and they had a smooth texture unless she went against the grain, which caused them to lift slightly. She’d had zits before, but nothing like this.

Elspeth leaned back with a dawning grin and swiftly grabbed her hands. Orla relaxed—it couldn’t be a problem if Elspeth was excited.

“Orla, holy shit. I think these are dragon scales. Like mine!”

“Dragon scales?” she ventured. “They’re not gunna hurt me, right?”

“No, no,” Elspeth soothed. She swelled with a lungful of air, trying to calm herself, but remained grinning. “They might itch as they grow in, but mine have never hurt me. I promise you’re fine; it’s not demon acne, or whatever.” She tapped along Orla’s cheeks with two fingers. “Are there patches like this on your knees, along your spine, and your shoulders?”

Orla glanced down at her skirt, then shrugged a shoulder out of her blouse, revealing the same patchwork of changing skin. “Uh-huh.”

Elspeth squealed through a closed mouth, tugging Orla to her feet and skipping a half-circle with her. “We’re like scale buddies! We should tell Raidak, I’m sure he’d be super interested to see this. I bet he can confirm it for sure, too.”

Orla couldn’t contain a smile. “Do you know what colour they’ll be?”

Elspeth retrieved her tea and chugged it. “If it’s related to Raishan, probably green. It’ll match your spring colours!”

“Green,” Orla confirmed, vertiginous with relief.

“This is a good thing, Orla,” Elspeth said. “A good change. I promise. You’ll be stronger for it. You’ll have magic of your own.” She snagged Orla’s elbow with hers. “Let’s go!”

#promptober 2022 #writing tag #writing: orla #orla #elspeth #eleven month downtime #exandria #tal'dorei #promptober

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annisthree · 2 years

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Chapter IV: Piecing it together

previous chapter // series masterlist // next chapter

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Word Count: ~5k

Warnings: Explicit language, canon typical violence, mutual pining, alcohol, blood, injuries, jealousy

Chapter summary: Having made first contact (and a bit of a commotion) on Scen, Marla and Cassian meet with the representatives of the local rebel cell.

A/N: Cross-posted on AO3 (same username)

When Marla woke up the following day, there was no one else on the ship. It took her a moment to piece together what had happened - whatever Cassian gave her made her sleep through the rest of the previous day and the entire night, leaving her with an almost twenty-four-hour gap. But the pain was gone, and so was - mostly - the wound. It still hurt a bit when she was raising her arm or touching the spot where she was shot, but otherwise, she was pretty much good as new. Her brain, however, was hazy and disorientated, and it took her a moment to recall the previous day's events.

And Cassian was nowhere to be found. Well, fine. He's a big boy, he can handle himself, she thought while fishing out a bag of powered caf from one of the cupboards. Soon enough, the entire common room was filled with the overwhelming aroma of the hot, bitter beverage.

The scent brought back the memory of the previous day and the caf she had at the market. And meeting their informant, the fight, the ride home, Cassian patching her up... There was something strange connected with that last part, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it, her brain still hazy with painkillers.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the ramp lowering down in the cargo bay, followed by a series of footsteps on the stairs.

'Oh. You're up,' Cassian blurted out, surprised. He stared at her for a moment and then proceeded to take off his backpack and pull out its contents. 'I don't think you should be leaving bed so soon.'

Marla rolled her eyes, 'I'm fine. The wound is pretty much healed, just a bit of a bruise left.'

'Yeah, right.'

'I'm serious. Look,' she raised her blouse to uncover an ugly, large, purple bruise. 'You did an excellent job patching me up, doctor.'

Cassian inspected the area, before abruptly averting his gaze.

'I'll be damned. These must be some good bacta patches,' he commented, shifting his attention onto his backpack. 'Got us some stuff in the town,' he changed the subject. As proof, he threw her a palm-sized object packed in grey paper. It was warm to the touch. 'Hope you liked yesterday's breakfast. The baker saw our little encounter with the Imperial guards and gave us these for half the price. And this,' he threw another object at her, larger but much lighter and softer, 'This is for our meeting later today. One more complaint about the cold coming from you, and I might have to drop you off on Hoth on our way back to the base.'

'So thoughtful of you. What happened? Was it the threat of me dying that made you so soft?'

Cassian huffed and pulled out another wrapped pastry and a black parka jacket. It looked almost exactly like the one he got her, with the exception of the colour - his was deep black, while the one on her lap was a dusty kind of blue, a shade that she would never have chosen for herself.

'Hey, yours is prettier. Why did you get me a blue one?'

'Because it was half off.'

'Oh, so I don't deserve Rebellion credits?'

'I got you breakfast. And clothes. I also, to quote you, did an excellent job patching you up. I can't believe you're still whining.'

Marla murmured something that was a mixture of Fine and Fuck you and bit into the pastry. She couldn't help but notice that Cassian was avoiding making eye contact with her. Shit, did I say something stupid after he gave me those painkillers? She couldn't quite recall the details, apart from getting a bacta patch and being carried to her room (that bit admittedly made her a bit uncomfortable).

Maybe he's just in one of his moods, she thought, stuffing her face with breakfast. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him power up a datapad, the blue light momentarily reflected on his features and in his slightly squinted eyes. It's been a while since he had a chance to shave, and a dark shadow began creeping onto his jaw. Before she could stop herself, she made a silent observation that he looked really well with facial hair; it gave his overall demeanour a bit of an edge.

Can't believe you're doing this again.

'Better get ready. I need someone to help me clean up the secondary engine room before we leave for the meeting,' he muttered absentmindedly, eyes still glued to the datapad.

Marla groaned. She really liked him more when he was avoiding her.

'Have we ever considered that this could be a set-up?'

Marla's breath transformed into a fleeting, misty cloud, painfully reminding her of her stiffened fingers and frozen toes.

'I know I did,' he replied, rubbing his hands together ( definitely need to get some gloves ). 'That's why you're here.'

'I thought I was here because of my outstanding negotiating skills,' she grinned. 'How long do you think till they come?'

'The sun is almost setting. They should be here any minute.'

As instructed, they were waiting at the foot of a small mountain range just outside the town. It was a good distance from the main road, so there wasn't a single soul in sight. In fact, there wasn't much of anything in sight; the bitter cold and the year-round lack of sunshine meant that very few plants were perseverent enough to grow on Scen, so the landscape was mostly bare rocks and dirt, with an occasional naked tree.

The area was eerily quiet, only their shaky breaths disturbing the wailing of the wind. It wasn't therefore hard to distinguish a faint sound of a cocked gun, followed by some shuffling and whispers.

They spotted the strangers soon after. There were at least seven of them, as far as Marla could tell; the five that appeared right in front of them, emerging from behind a small hill, and at least two snipers hidden in the distance.

'The weather is perfect for hunting Runyip,' Cassian declared loudly, one hand making a barely noticeable twitch towards his blaster.

'I hear they're exceptionally aggressive this year,' the man closest to them recited, signalling the rest to lower their guns. 'I apologise for the cold welcome. Needed to make sure.'

'Understandable,' Cassian replied, still visibly tense but no longer reaching for his blaster. 'Thank you for agreeing to speak with us.'

'Well, you come highly recommended. Plus, I hear you gave quite a performance yesterday at the market. You've got my attention,' the man replied with a grin. 'I'm Gaere; this is Sylus, Jon, Norven and Rya,' he said, pointing at his companions. 'Anything more than that we'll discuss once we get to the base. It's not safe here.'

The walk to the base was long and winding. At first, Marla tried to remember each turn and pick up some landmarks, but she quickly realised that all the bloody rocks looked exactly the same to her. She was hoping Cassian had more luck.

True to his word, Gaere remained silent all throughout their journey to the base, and his companions followed suit. Finally, after quite a long hike, they were led to a cave through an entrance hidden behind a large boulder. Two of the insurgents stayed outside, kneeling behind the cover of a rock formation, blaster rifles at the ready.

'So. I hear you came all the way to this Maker-forsaken planet to speak with us. We're flattered. I also hear you're here to discuss some organised Rebellion movement.'

'You hear a lot,' Cassian replied flatly. The leader gave a short chuckle.

'Come on. Let's drop the animosity. We can't offer much in terms of hospitality,' the man gestured around the room, 'But we can offer you some Nog. Homemade. Keeps you warm.'

Marla nodded enthusiastically, a wide grin creeping onto her face.

'Thank you, perhaps later,' Cassian was clearly determined to remain as cold as possible, both in terms of his body and attitude. Marla rolled her eyes and made her way towards a small table, where she was poured a glass of something vaguely yellow and strong-smelling.

'Your boyfriend always this fun?' she heard Gaere whisper as he handed her the drink.

'Not my boyfriend. But, yeah,' she smirked, throwing a quick glance at Cassian.

The man stifled a chuckle and threw her a knowing look. His next words were louder, 'So. What's this Rebellion of yours? How many of you are there? What are you planning to achieve?'

'There aren't that many of us yet, but we're hoping to expand by allying some local cells. And the plan? I suppose, the same as yours. Create as much disruption as possible, and, ultimately, end the Imperial oppression.'

Gaere grinned, 'Ambitious. I assume we're one of the local cells you've been planning to recruit? Why would we join you?'

'Because we want the same thing,' Marla interjected. 'And we can make much more noise together.'

The man smiled at her, taking a long sip of his drink, 'Perhaps. I'm not gonna play hard to get; we have been talking about it for a while. But the thing is, we have something to do here first. So maybe if you help us, we could consider your offer.'

Marla didn't think it was possible for Cassian to tense up even more, and yet here he was. Quickly noting the frown forming on his face, she decided to take over the conversation, 'What exactly would you have us do?'

Gaere took a deep breath and made eye contact with an older woman who stood in the corner of the room. She gave him a slight nod.

'All of us here, we've been born and raised on Scen. When the Republic fell, we did pretty well at deterring the Imperial forces - at one point, it seemed like they gave up on us, clearly not willing to go through all the trouble we were giving them for a planet that is mostly rocks and dust. Well, that was until our beloved and democratically elected governor decided that the Imperial presence would benefit our economy. Of course, we fought back - but the Imperials had already got their foot in the door. Most of those willing to fight were killed within the first week of Imperial presence. The rest is still rotting in jail,' he paused, his thoughts visibly trailing off for a moment. 'You can probably see where I'm going with this. We'll not let them have Scen. Ugly and uninviting as it is, we've spent our entire lives here. All our families are here - or at least the ones that haven't been killed yet. So the goal is to boot the Empire out and make sure our beloved governor gets a lesson about what happens when you sell your soul to the enemy. You help us with that - we can discuss joining you.'

Cassian scoffed, 'How many of you are there? Twenty? Thirty? And how many Imperials are stationed on Scen?'

'Twenty-four,' Gaere corrected calmly, intentionally avoiding the second question. 'I thought impossible odds were the Rebellion's speciality.'

'They are,' Marla offered softly, throwing Cassian a scolding look. 'But we're gonna need more than that. Do you have a plan already in mind?'

'Well, most of the Imperial forces are focused in Weatu. They have a garrison in the southern part of the city - hitting that would eliminate most of their men. As to the governor: you've met Ethre Rioo. She can get you close to him. I hear you're no stranger to undercover missions and assassinations, so I assume you can handle him. Ourselves, we're more of a storm in and blow everyone up kind of people,' he smirked.

'She'll let us assassinate her husband?' Cassian raised one eyebrow.

'To be fair, she did mention she would prefer if we handled him in a way that doesn't necessarily involve killing him,' he grinned. 'But when it comes down to it, she will not interfere. You've met her; she has more reasons to hate the Empire than all of us combined. I trust her completely.'

For the first time since they entered the base, Cassian made eye contact with Marla. She nodded.

'Fine. We'll discuss this with the rest. How can we get in touch with you?'

Gaere signalled to one of his men, who approached him with a small device in his hand, 'Take this. It's modified to use frequencies that normal comlinks don't pick up. We'll be waiting for your decision.'

Cassian took the comlink and placed it in the inside pocket of his jacket.

Marla threw Gaere a somewhat apologetic smile, 'Nice meeting you. Thank you for the hospitality.'

He smiled back at her and picked up a bottle from the table. 'Here. Can't let you leave empty-handed.'

She grinned and nodded thankfully, accepting the gift.

'We'll get in touch soon,' Cassian announced flatly. He threw Marla a meaningful glance and turned away, heading towards the exit. Marla sighed quietly, threw one last smile at the people in the room, and followed Cassian outside.

'Maker, what is wrong with you?' Marla panted, catching up to Cassian's quick pace.

'I don't like him. Don't trust him.'

'Well, I do,' she announced defiantly. 'They're passionate about the fight. We need more people like them,' she added, throwing him a sideways glance. Cassian just shrugged and continued to walk. 'We're gonna need the rest of the crew. And some guns.'

'We haven't decided yet. I have to speak with the General first.'

'Of course you do,' she murmured coldly. 'By the way - you never mentioned your hot date was the governor's wife ,' she added, smirking. Cassian shrugged again, blatantly uninterested in continuing the conversation. Marla caught herself rolling her eyes for a hundredth time this morning and followed behind him, the rest of their time spent in silence.

General Dodonna did not share Cassian's reservations and agreed to send over the rest of their crew along with as many blasters and explosives as the Rebellion could spare (which, to be fair, wasn't much, but it was still better than whatever the local insurgents had).

Aevie, Sal and Zafe arrived the next day, delivered along with a fresh supply of warm blankets and a couple of crates of assorted weaponry. The Blackbird became crowded again, and Marla was glad to finally be able to talk to someone who wasn't either constantly sulking over Maker-knows-what or straight up avoiding her. She noticed Cassian became increasingly more distant as the mission progressed - it started that morning when she got shot and only got worse after they met with Gaere and his men ( Fine, I get it, you don't like them ). She was fairly used to him being quiet, broody and ostentatiously miserable, but the longer this continued, the more awkward it somehow became.

Fine. Whatever. He'll talk eventually.

In the meantime, the company of her fellow squad members was a welcome change. As they sat together in the command room and prepared to discuss the strategy, Marla realised how tense she had been before, laughing with them as they recounted the supply mission they had just returned from.

'Right. Everyone ready?' Cassian's voice cut through a wave of laughter. He approached the holotable and started tinkering with some of the wires. After a couple of seconds, he sighed and looked at Aevie in a silent plea for help.

'Clever little thing, for something constructed in a cave out of cannibalised parts of at least four different devices. I'd love to have a chat with whoever did this,' she started enthusiastically as she began disassembling the comlink, her fingers expertly finding their way through the entangled wires. 'See? The receiver would normally be connected to the binary descrambler, but this one has a signal amplifier stuck in between these two. Pretty clever,' she concluded at Cassian, whose blank stare was an apt summary of the general level of understanding that everyone in the room displayed.

'Is it gonna work with the holotable?'

'Yes, Captain,' she scoffed, slightly offended. 'It's gonna work with the holotable. In fact,' she paused for a moment, pushing some buttons on both the device and the holotable, 'There you go. All set.'

Cassian mumbled some words of acknowledgement and took the modified comlink from her.

'Hey. Maybe it's better if I talk this time?' Marla offered.

'Right. I forgot the two of you are now-' Cassian blurted out sarcastically, giving up mid-sentence. 'Whatever.'

'What? Jealous I have a new friend?'

'No. I just thought you're smarter than to trust someone you've talked to for about half an hour.'

'Didn't say I trust him, Cassian. But that doesn't mean I have to be an ass to him. Especially since, you know, we want them to join us. '

'Whatever,' he shrugged, turning the comlink on.

Marla sighed and tucked her knees up to her chest. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Sal trying to stifle a laugh by burying his face in a mug.

The holotable buzzed for a moment and then displayed a familiar figure of Gaere, the blue light of the projection illuminating the command room.

'Evening. I was just thinking about you lot,' they were greeted by the friendly voice on the other side of the call. 'I assume you're calling to update us on your decision.'

'You assume correctly,' Cassian started slowly.

'We'll be happy to help you with your mission. And we invited over some friends,' Marla interrupted, gesturing to the rest of their crew.

'That's what I was hoping to hear,' Gaere didn't try to hide his excitement. Marla suddenly understood why Cassian was so sceptical about the man - he was so open and sincere it was almost suspicious. Or at least, it must have been suspicious for Cassian - Marla was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt unless proven otherwise. But the contrast between the two men was striking - they couldn't be more different, with Cassian's cold, distanced wariness and Gaere's loud, unconcealed enthusiasm. 'Right on time, too - we were just talking with Ethre about the possible strategies. She thinks she has an idea how to get you close to the governor without raising suspicion. Ethre?' he nodded at someone, and soon a petite redheaded woman appeared next to him - the colour of her hair was, of course, obscured by the transmission, but Marla remembered that colour very well after hours she spent staring at her talking to Cassian in that cantina.

'Yes,' Ethre started, smiling at Cassian. 'If I recall, you mentioned there's a woman in your crew,' Cassian nodded slowly, his eyes quickly darting to Marla. 'Perfect. I was just thinking that I hadn't seen my sister in a while. Perhaps I could have her visit me - my husband has never met her, he's never even cared enough to see any holos of her, so he's not gonna notice anything weird.'

'Wait-' Cassian started, his eyes widening.

'No. Absolutely not. Bad idea,' Marla interrupted loudly, connecting the dots. 'Perhaps Cassian failed to mention I'm not a spy. I'm a pilot. Sorry to disappoint you.'

'Well, that's the only idea I have. Unless you have any other candidates in your crew.'

Marla scanned the room with desperation, 'I don't suppose your sister is... Pantoran? As in, blue-skinned?'

Ethre scoffed quietly in response.

'I have to agree. She's the worst possible person to do this,' Cassian added fervently.

'Well, I don't have any brothers, sorry. Although I assume my sister would travel with some sort of a guard; father wouldn't let her stray so far away from home by herself. So I guess you can consider yourself invited, too.'

Cassian sighed in resignation and rubbed his forehead, 'Great. Kriff this. We'll make it work.'

'Hey! Do I have any say in this?' Marla protested, a rush of panic slowly beginning to fill her mind.

Cassian just looked at her, resigned and suddenly tired. I guess that's a no.

'Great. We're set, then. I'll send over some information about my family. And some clothes,' she added, eyeing Marla slowly.

'Great,' Cassian repeated, stuffing his hands in his pockets. 'We'll be waiting.'

Cassian was not happy. He's done many undercover missions but always preferred to work alone. Even a trained spy can always slip up, and Marla... well, she was definitely not a trained spy. What she was was loud, hot-headed and terribly distracting.

After the finished meeting, the crew unanimously decided to light a campfire outside the ship. To be fair, the Blackbird was well insulated and had active thermal stabilisers, but, as Sal aptly summed up, a campfire is a campfire, kid. Fair enough.

Having gathered some stray pieces of wood and other flammable materials that could be found in their cargo bay, they built a neat stack and set it on fire. As the fire began stabilising, they sat down in a circle one by one, passing a bottle of gifted Nog and admiring the dancing flames. There was very little life on Scen, so the night was mostly silent, the only sounds being an occasional cry of a wild animal in the distance, the loud howl of the wind and the cracking of the fire.

'We have twenty-eight people, eighty per cent of them completely untrained. I don't like these odds,' Aevie declared, wiping off the corner of her lips with a sleeve.

'That's why we have to be smart about it,' Cassian responded slowly, staring into the fire. He didn't like the odds either, but then again, they were rarely in their favour. 'We're gonna have to attack two fronts at once; otherwise, we'll lose the element of surprise. There's the governor, and there's the Imperial command post. If we get to the governor without taking down the Imperials, they will come to his aid. If we handle them first, the word will get to the governor, and he will flee,' he paused, taking a sip of alcohol and passing the bottle along to Sal. 'I think our best shot would be sending the insurgents to the command post, along with one of us to help them organise. We should speak with them tomorrow and see whether there's any intel that could help us plan this - if not, we should do some recon. We need to know their numbers, security detail, and the plan of the area. Once we get that, we can talk strategy. In the meantime,' he choked back a sigh, 'Marla and I will be handling the governor. And trying not to get exposed. Right, Marla?'

She rewarded him with a crooked grimace and a death stare.

'Sounds good,' Zafe interjected, ignoring their silent banter. 'I'll set up a meeting with the insurgents to go over intel on the command post.'

'Good. I think you should take the lead on planning this part, Zafe.'

'Happy to do that. Although I'd love to borrow Marla for the planning part if she's not too busy preparing for the performance of her life,' he sent her a wide grin. 'If I remember correctly, she was one of the few people at the Academy that didn't sleep through the lectures on military strategy. And besides, I'm sure our new rebel friend will be more inclined to agree with the plan if it comes from Marla.'

'Shut up,' Marla mumbled, rolling her eyes and taking a long sip from the bottle.

'What? She seems like a good guy. You know, you can't keep ignoring people like this. Not every man that has feelings for you is an Imperial traitor.'

The drink froze in Marla's throat. Upon regaining her breath, she fixed Zafe with a death stare, purposefully passing the bottle to the next person in line behind him.

'Shut up,' she repeated.

Cassian stared intensely into the flames, avoiding eye contact with anyone, especially Marla. None of them really talked about their lives from before the Rebellion - it didn't really matter, and these kinds of stories were rarely happy; otherwise, they wouldn't be here, chasing the Empire in scrap ships and blowing them up with homemade grenades. He knew Sal fought in the Clone Wars, Aevie was some sort of an aspiring scientist on Pantora, and Marla and Zafe knew each other from the Military Academy. He was happy not to ask questions as long as they did the same.

And yet, he caught himself suddenly focusing on the conversation.

'Imperial traitor, huh? Sounds like good material for a fireside story,' Sal, being the ever-so-subtle man that he was, decided not to let them drop the subject.

Marla sighed with irritation and turned to Zafe, 'Well, buddy, you started this. Go on then, entertain us. You were there.'

Zafe made a wry face and pressed his lips.

'Fine,' Marla sighed. 'There really isn't that much to tell. There was a guy in the Academy. I guess we were together for a while. Then the Empire came, and he decided to jump at the opportunity to make a name for himself. He wasn't particularly skilled or special, so the only way to do that was by trying to sell his friends,' she summarised with as much emotion as if she was describing the weather forecast. 'Alas, that got him a bullet in the head. End of story. Tragic, I know,' she scoffed.

'Wait. What happened?'

'After he got the bullet? Pretty sure you can imagine.'

'No. I mean, what did he do?'

Marla sighed and looked over at Zafe, silently begging for support. He took a moment to think and began slowly, 'When the Republic fell, the orders came in informing us that we are now part of the Imperial army. As you can imagine,' he smirked, 'most people weren't particularly happy about that, so we decided to bunker up on the Academy grounds and resist. I mean, I don't know if you've ever seen the Academy, but it's pretty damn well protected, so as long as we stayed inside, there wasn't much they could do to us. The thing is, after a couple of weeks, some people began going soft. Some were saying that it's our duty to follow orders, that we cannot resist forever, all that bullshit. We were generally happy to stick them outside of the Academy gates and let them run to their Imperial friends. But our friend Bay,' he looked over at Marla with a hint of a sad smile, 'He wasn't satisfied with just joining the Imperials; he wanted to make a grand entrance. So he came up with a clever idea to sneak into the security mainframe and disable our defences.'

'Luckily,' Marla interjected, 'he was just about as sly as he was loyal, so I pieced it together. I caught him by the security mainframe right as he was about to turn off the defences. I convinced him I just wanted to talk, so he let me in. He probably thought I wanted to join him and live happily ever after somewhere on a cosy Imperial station. As you can imagine, that wasn't exactly my dream. I gave him a chance to back out, put a blaster to his head and told him to walk away. He thought I was bluffing,' she took a long sip from the bottle and fixed her stare at the dancing flames. 'I was not.'

Somehow everything around them turned quieter, even the wild animals seemingly intimidated by the heaviness of the silence.

'Funny thing is, this guy,' Marla pointed her chin at Zafe, refusing to take her eyes off the campfire, 'This guy was always telling me that there was something wrong about Bay. At the time, I thought you were just mad we didn't let you sleep at night , ' she finally looked at him, forcing a grin.

'That too,' he grinned back at her and paused for a while. 'Well, let's just say I expect to be consulted before you get into a relationship again.'

'Yeah. Don't hold your breath, buddy. If there's one thing I've learnt from that whole mess, it's that love makes you stupid and naive, and being stupid and naive makes you dead.'

'Oh, come on, don't be so dramatic, Marla,' he scoffed. 'You had some bad luck. Doesn't mean next time will be that bad.'

Marla chuckled loudly, her laughter being the only sound interrupting the heavy silence. She was clearly finished talking, and no one else was particularly eager to start a new topic, the mood suddenly sour.

'Sorry about that,' she said lightly after a long pause, her usual carelessness returning to her voice. 'I promise we have some more entertaining stories from the Academy.'

Cassian suddenly realised he's been playing with a dry twig this entire time, ripping it into small pieces with a ferocity that caught him off guard. He made a conscious effort not to look at Marla - he felt too exposed to sustain eye contact with anyone, especially her. It's probably the alcohol.

There was something unfamiliar in the sadness he identified in his chest. The sadness that, he now realised, has been growing there for weeks, or even more.

He finally found the courage to look at her, searching her face for some clues, some answers. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he thought he recognised the same sadness in her eyes, hidden behind a reflection of the dancing flames. He searched further and noticed the tiny shiver of her parted lips. He stared shamelessly, with all the audacity and boldness of a drunken fool, until she looked back at him.

And then it finally made sense.

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