Tumgik
#even if they don’t care anymore and even if we can’t keep on like we did before. my part is to say it even if it doesn’t matter.
kika-writes · 3 days
Text
the world - l.n
Warnings: sad Lando (turns happy)
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
Summary: Lando pretends he’s lost his job at McLaren to see Y/N reaction
“Alright chat,” Lando whispered into his mic, “time for the pranks to begin,”. Tucking his camera into his pocket, making sure the viewers could actually see the whole encounter, he walked into your main bedroom, changing his face immediately to one of sadness. “Hi baby,” you smiled at your boyfriend, totally oblivious to the recording. “Hi,” he said, ignoring your attempt to kiss him, making him frown. “Lando, is everything okay?” you asked, immediately putting your book down and tilting his face towards you. Lando could just imagine how the stream would be flooded with comments just at the mere action. “I have to tell you something,” he sighed, his acting was superb. “Anything, Lan, I’m here for you, what is it?” you hummed, as he rested his head on your shoulder, sniffing to hide his laugh.
“McLaren. They don’t want me anymore,” he said, getting straight to the point, “I get if you don’t wanna date me anymore…”. You scoffed, ending his sentence right there. “Lando. That’s so stupid, McLaren are stupid for that. They’re so, so, so stupid, and I wouldn’t break up with you for that,” you said, tilting his head up.
“I love you for YOU,” you said, bringing your lips to his as he set his phone down on the bed, ‘conveniently’ with the camera to both of you. “Really?” he said, carrying on his act. “Yeah, of course. You can work as a flipping male model in gucci for all I care. Actually, maybe D&G, I hate gucci,” you corrected, hugging him tightly. “Y/N, Y/N, I can’t,” he starting laughing, making you frown. He’d been close to tears seconds ago.
“What?” you asked, confused. “It was a prank. Fuck I feel horrible, love,” he frowned as you laughed. “I know it was, Lando, I knew it would be,” you rolled your eyes, making HIM frown. “How?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Oh please, I have a better relationship with McLaren than you do, they basically keep you for me. And even if they did fire you, they’d tell me first, so they can make sure Zak and Andrea can run quick enough,” you shook your head, now giggling.
“You bitch!” he gasped, punching your arm as you cackled. “You’re not fooling me with that little camera either, Norris,” you grinned, making him cross his arms. “You’re never getting the better of me,” you added, “plus, I’m on your stream,” you showed him your phone, making his roll his eyes. “You’re not that close with McLaren, are you?” he asked, breaking the silence. You handed him your phone, opening instagram as he opened the DMs.
mclaren
m - no way did he think he was slick w that lil prank 🤨🤨
y/n - he gotta try harder frfr 🙏🙏
m - watching the stream now smh
y/n - he need an Oscar for that acting icl
m - we alr gave him one 🤫🤫
y/n - like what u done there lmaooooo 😂😭
m - little does he know, im ur most texted 😍😍
y/n - I’m only w him for u 😘😘
m - 😨😨😨😨😨
600 notes · View notes
Text
Love, Peace, and War
[requested : @immyowndefender]
“Will you do one where reader lives and shoves both Alys and Aemond into a burning pyre along with the rest of kingslanding or at least one where she makes Aemond her bitch?”
Tumblr media
Whispers of another woman keeping his bed warm have swarmed y/n since he left for Harrenhal. He had supposedly missed her, she now believes it to be simply guilt, coming home despite orders from his king and making love to her until the early morn. Something had seemed off that night, and she wanted to question it, but she was simply happy to have her love back in her arms. However, now he seems to only be trouble. Both of their sons lie dead and wrapped in the finest cloth on a pyre. Vhagar rumbled from her perch, seemingly annoyed. Y/n took one last look at her boys and looked Aemond in the eye with a depressed rage. He only looked at her with remorse. For their sons? For possibly ruining her by sleeping with another woman? She didn’t know, nor did she care.
“Dracarys”, he spoke loudly to Vhagar. Warmth kissed y/n’s cheeks, almost drying her tear stains. “Goodbye my little dragons, protect each other, my strong boys”, she whispered. Y/n turned and walked to her horse, not acknowledging Aemond or his family. When they traveled back to King’s Landing, y/n rushed to her chambers with her maids in tow. “Lyliana, fetch some wine. I’d also like a bath.” Both girls got to work, Lyliana fetching the wine and Alessandra starting to warm some water. Y/n glanced to her bed and saw a plush toy shaped like a dragon sitting next to her pillows. She can’t cry anymore, she’d lost all of her tears. “Shall I help you undress, your grace?”, Lyliana asked softly, knowingly. 
Y/n nodded and proceeded to be undressed with delicacy. Sitting in her shift, both girls started to braid her hair and wrap it like a crown to not get it wet. Y/n asked, “Do you think they’re alright?” The girls glanced between one another, Lyliana answered, “They have each other, your grace, that is all we could hope for.” Y/n nodded and stood. The water was warm, something she needed after a while. Her muscles had been tense after what she’d been through. “I will fetch more oils, your grace”, Lyliana spoke after looking at the selection. Alessandra spoke quietly, “I lost my boy in the fall”, she paused her words and focused on scrubbing the dried blood missed from under the princess’s fingernails. “What did he look like?”, y/n asked. “He had these big brown eyes that were so curious of what was happening around him. He barely stayed asleep, I believe he thought he would miss something”, she smiled with a small laugh, “His hair was black like his father’s and thick. He had this freckle under his chin too. My mother always told me freckles were angel kisses.” Y/n and Alessandra sat in a comfortable silence, only the water could be heard. 
Lyliana returned with the oils and assisted in finishing the princess’s bath. When she had emerged from the water, there was a knock at the door. Lyliana answered the door only through a crack, as y/n was in a state of undress still. “Prince Aemond”, she bowed, “Your wife isn’t dressed yet and doesn’t wish for any visitors.” Aemond didn’t listen and entered the room, “Y/n.” “Ladies, you may go for the night”, y/n released the girls, having now been dressed in her nightclothes. She looked at Aemond standing in the middle of the room. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I am the reason our sons are gone. I just- I can’t have you not speaking or even looking at me anymore.”
She poured herself some wine and sat in a chair, “That is what we are doing now, isn’t it?”
Aemond got on his knees at her feet and placed his arms around the small of her back, “Y/n please, you do not have to forgive me, but please don’t do this.” He buried his face into her thighs.
Y/n looked at her cup, not once acknowledging his proximity, “How’s Alys?”
Aemond raised his head, “What?”
“The girl from Harrenhal. What did they say she was? Some wet nurse to her brother?”
“How did yo-”
“I didn’t know you had a thing for bastards. Thought you always hated them, especially if their roots were from Harrenhal”, she paused for a drink, “Was she your spoil from war?”
Aemond brought his head up to look y/n in the eyes, “Tell me, Aemond, was she any good?”
He stood up now, stumbling over his words like a child caught. “Well?”
“No, she never could compare. I was so alone and lost, I-I lost myself to weakness. Please, my love, I never meant to hurt you.”
“Well you did.” A knock could be heard through the thick air, “Come in.”
A man who looked very much like the prince without the Targaryen features entered the room, “Your grace”, he bowed, “Your spoils.” A bag was handed to the princess, glancing inside she was hit with the stench of death. “You may go, Alfred.”
With her back to Aemond she stated, “A parting gift for you”, she turns and hands him the bag. “I will be going home for my brother’s coronation. I won’t be back.” She walks out of the room to the maester’s. Aemond slowly opened the bag and found Alys River’s head inside, devoid of color. He threw it, landing on a dresser, and poured himself some wine. His movement erratic, he didn’t know what to do, so he drank and went to the training yard to get his frustrations out. Y/n had traveled to Dragonstone before returning home. She spoke with Rhaenyra of how she was the true queen, and the world was lied to for a selfish man’s gain. How Delbore would support her claim if called upon. Then they spoke, not as queen and princess, enemies, or friends. They spoke of their sons, what she would do when she goes back home, and revenge.
Before she boarded the boat, she turned to Daemon and Rhaenyra, “Kill him. Make it painful.” She looked into Daemon’s eyes, and he nodded to her. She smiled softly and set sail for home, for peace. Her kingdom was never called upon. 
The Targaryen’s had seemingly forgotten of the princess. Until one day, she sat in the gardens with her sister-in-law and queen of Delbore having tea. “Princess y/n, a letter has come for you”, a servant girl spoke like a mouse. “Thank you, dear”, y/n dismissed her. She noticed the black Targaryen seal on the scroll and took a deep breath. The queen placed a hand over hers and smiled gently. The words she had hoped to hear for months, almost a year now. Aemond is dead. In black ink, the details of how he had received his dues. Daemon had sacrificed his life in killing the prince, leaving him with a sword through his eye. Time went on and Targaryens died like flies. Y/n, however, flourished on Delbore Isle. She took another husband. A sturdy but soft man who loved her truly. He never left her side, even during the birth of their daughter. Y/n had finally found peace.
Taglist : @watercolorskyy
Tumblr media
Masterlist
42 notes · View notes
lunajay33 · 1 day
Text
New World🍂Part.13
Summary: You grew up in a crappy town with one friend who kept you going, everything started to fall into place, that’s until the world ended and the dead ruled the world, now you and your best friend Daryl Dixon had to stay alive but will you finally confess?
Part.12
•Masterlist•
Tumblr media
I was around 5 months pregnant now and everything has been going good, great actually, Daryl became even more protective and I didn’t hate it I loved when he dotted on me, what can I say I adore him and I’m gonna adore this baby just as much
“Everything feeling normal since our last check up?” Hershel asked as I laid on the bed for him to check on things, Daryl at my side
“Yeah, they’ve been kicking a bit more and I have to pee a lot more” I said making Hershel let out a little laugh
“Sounds like you’re on track, now I’ll just check the heart beat” he took his stethoscope and placed it around my belly as the room fell silent
“Well everything seems to be normal, but I should warn you, some people around the prison have caught a cough, you should steer clear just incase, you can’t afford to get sick while you’re pregnant” he said as he gave me my prenatal vitamins
“I’ll take care of her” Daryl said helping me off the bed and leading me out of his little office as another person was about to enter, we walked past and noticed them coughing up blood
“I think I’m gonna set ya up in a watch tower just in case” he said rubbing my back reassuringly
“Yeah I think it’s better to be cautious”
He pulled two of our mattresses from our block to the watchtower as I gathered some of my things, blankets, to go bag, food and water, after we worked on it the rest of the evening it looked pretty cute……well as nice as we could get it
We laid in bed, his arms wrapped around me as I laid my head on his shoulder, my hand protectively placed on my bump
“Do you want a girl or boy?” I asked tired
“Don’t matter, as long as they’re like ya” he said dragging his fingers back and forth through my hair, I still can’t believe we got to this point from being best friends to me pinning over him and now I’m pregnant
“Well if it’s a girl…….can we name her Juniper?” I kept remembering the dream I had and I feel like it was a sign of some sort
“ of course sunshine”
Tumblr media
Hershel was right, it’s only been a week and people were dropping like flies left and right, getting more and more sick, coughing up blood, it coming out of their eyes and everything, there was an incident where a cell block had walkers from those who died at night, that’s what Daryl told me he refused to let me leave the watchtower but now that I’m pregnant I didn’t really want to now anyways, as I was looking out over the field I heard Daryl come out
“Hey sunshine how ya feeling?” He asked rubbing my back
“I’m good but I’m really craving some things I can’t even have anymore” as I said that groaning he laughed as he stood behind me and held my bump
“What’s this lil baby craving?” He asked as we both looked down to where he was caressing my belly
“I really want soft serve ice cream, spaghetti, I really crave any kind of chocolate bar OH! and a orange soda”
“Is that all?” He let out a breathy laugh as it blew a bit of my hair tickling my face
“Daryyyylll, it’s not my fault the baby wants what it wants” I whined
“Well I know it ain’t chocolate of ice cream but I brought ya some spaghetti’os and some peaches I found out on a run, wanted to keep em just for ya”
“Awe thanks D, remember that time when you came over for a whole weekend when we were like 13 and all we ate was spaghetti’os and grilled cheese” I asked remembering the good times we had together
“Ya, think of it everytime I see a can, ya know I appreciate ya fer that stuff ya use to do fer me?” I turned in his arms brushing his hair back
“What do you mean?”
“When my old man would neglect me or beat on me ya were always there fer me, yer gonna be a great mother” he said placing kisses all over my face
“Oh Daryl, I’m always gonna be here for you, you’ve made it easy, you’re the sweetest most generous man I’ve ever met, and because of that you’re going to be the best dad in this whole messed up world, I love you D, always have and always will”
“I love ya too peach, forever”
Tumblr media
I woke up seeing Daryl had already left, judging by the sun it was probably around 12 pm, since getting pregnant I’ve needed to sleep more, always tired was a normal side effect Hershel had told me, I got up putting my hair into a ponytail, pulling in some black yoga pants and one of Daryl’s plaids that still had the sleeves on, just as I was about to drink some water an explosion happened to the watchtower across the court yard, completely destroyed and in flames, looking to where it came from and my heart dropped, the governor and a group of people, I knew this was gonna go terribly, the governor wasn’t the forgiving type
I gathered up all my food and water and threw it in my back pack that had spare clothes and baby clothes Daryl had found for me, put my holster belt around my hips carrying my gun and knife, I slung my bag over my back and ran down the stairs, some of the group were huddled around the fence watching to see if Rick could settle this
“Sunshine ya gotta get outta here” Daryl said as he squeezed my arm
“No I can’t go without you”
“Ya gotta fer the baby, if things go bad and we get separated I’ll find ya, I promise” he said giving me a hard passionate kiss signalling for me to go
“I love you Daryl Dixon” and with that I ran off into the prison informing everyone to get ready, I was about to leave when I saw her, little Judith unaware of the dangers around her, I found her baby carrier, diapers, food and clothes and put it in my back as well then strapping her in the carrier on my chest and ran when a part of the prison exploded, I ran out the back opening in the prison, going until my legs couldn’t anymore, I could here the gunshots in the distance stop, I wanted to go back but I know I can’t, I kept walking hoping to find someone from my family
Tumblr media
It’s been a few days now, I’ve just been walking and walking and walking, everything was the same everyday, wake up from some shitty shelter I could find, feed Judith and myself with the little rations I had left, and wander hoping someone would show up……..anyone, I couldn’t do this alone, pregnant and caring for a little girl there was only so much I could do and only so long I’d be able to do it without becoming exhausted
It felt like I’d never see Daryl again, I’d think of him all day especially when the wind would pick up and blow the scent of fallen leaves across my face, I’d picture his scruff and the feeling of it against my neck and shoulder where he’d be cuddled against me in the morning, and the way he’d glance at me with those blue eyes it made my world brighter, or how excited we were for this baby but now we may never be a family
As I was walking, reminiscing my lost love I came across a graveyard feeling fit with how empty and broken inside I felt, there was a house in the distance and decided to stay there for the night if it was all clear, I swept the house thankful for no walkers, Judith was getting fussy so I checked the cabinets and they were completely filled, I took a jar of jam and crackers and sat feeding Judith them myself until all the crackers were gone, it felt so good to have a full ish stomach, I hadn’t been starving on the road but it wasn’t enough, after we settled and the sun was setting I decided to sit on the porch steps to rock Judith to sleep hoping the fresh air would help, I leaned my head against the banister looking out over the graveyard, it was silent from walker groans only the sound of wind rustling through the leaves and crickets, it felt like old times when Daryl and I would stay out late and just watch the sky
All of a sudden there were a figure in the distance running closer to the house, I stood up securing Judith and taking out my gun but the closer they got the clearer they became
DARYL
I dropped my gun as I walked down the porch, he finally noticed me and Daryl ran even faster, I could feel the knot in my throat and the tears cascading down my face, I tried to speak but all that came out we gasps, he was here, he found me like he said, he finally reached me throwing his arms around me and holding my head to his chest as I cried harder then ever before
“I found ya, are ya alright?” He asked pulling and looking over my body
“I’m……..I’m okay now” he held my face looking deep in my eyes and that scent of musky woods crossed my senses and I breathed in deeply
“You found us” he finally looked down noticing a completely knocked out Judith
“Ya got her, got lil asskicker……..and how’s the baby?” He asked rubbing my belly
“I think they’re fine, I need more food though but I got that covered now” I took his hand and led him inside showing him the gift that was the kitchen cabinets
We lit some candles and chowed down for the rest of the night until we went upstairs settling in the bed after Daryl had secured all the points of entry
We found some clothes and changed into the fresh ones and slid into bed, his chest secure to my back as he held me close, arms and legs entangled, lil asskicker in my arms
“I thought I’d never see you again………I was so scared” I felt his arms tighten around me
“I ain’t leavin now, I thought of ya everyday”
“I can’t do this anymore Daryl” I whimpered as my bottom lip quivered, I needed a home that was secure and safe and peaceful I couldn’t have a baby where it was at risk every second
“I know baby, I’ll find it fer us, all of us”
“Did you see anyone get out?”
“Nah, too much was happening but…..Hershel’s dead”
“The governor?” My heart ached for Hershel he was the sweetest giving man
I just felt him nod as he started rubbing my belly, knowing how much it calmed him down
“I love you more than life Daryl” I said turning my head so I could kiss him gently
“Love ya too, I wish I could give ya everything we coulda had, it may not be everything but I’ll try”
Tumblr media
Lmk your thoughts on this chapters, if you’d like to be added to the taglist comment!!:)
Taglist: @deansapplepie @ghostboneswrites2 @willowshadenox @thebadbatch2022 @writer-ann-artist @i-wear-wet-socks313 @thestonedwriter
29 notes · View notes
wil-o-wispy · 1 day
Text
The Wife, the Lover, and the Bastard Son - Part 4
Chris Redfield x Fem!Reader (he'll be in the next part)
Tumblr media
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (You are here)
Summary: Your past comes back to haunt you in more ways than you thought possible.
Contents: Major spoilers for RE6, canon typical violence/swearing, mentions of blood being drawn, improper use of a syringe as an improvised weapon, angsty Jake content, angsty plot content, descriptions of blood and violence, dialogue heavy chapter. Reader is referred to as 'Doc' and is the wife of (dead) Albert Wesker and is a former Umbrella scientist.
a/n: Hey peeps. It's me ya boi. I regret nothing for the events that are about to unfold. Thanks for reading :)
w/c: 10.8k+
There is no feasible way out of the cell that you’re confined in. After an indiscernible amount of time being unconscious from the gas released in the specimen room, you woke up here. As far as prisons go, it’s not half bad; a spacious white chamber with a basic cot with white sheets in the middle of the room. In the corner across from it is a security camera with a red light. What makes this room different from your handful of previous kidnapping quarters, are the metal shutters to the right of the entrance to the room that takes up the entirety of the wall. Given the room you were in reminded you of chambers for infected test subjects, there was a likely chance you were being observed through the camera on the other side of the wall.
There’s a second difference as well. You woke up with the crook of your arm wrapped in gauze and a cotton swab. These people had drawn blood from you while you were knocked out. Probably to test if you were compatible for the new virus you’re sure they’re making.
All you can do is wait and see if you’re right.
You aren’t too worried about your involuntary confinement. Not yet anyway. These people evidently want you alive and in one piece. You’re not too sure if Jake would be given the same courtesy though. If he was as skilled as he said he was, you would be willing to bet he was already long gone. If that boy had any sense, he would be trying to find a radio right now to signal for help.
You don’t have to wait too long with your thoughts. A short time after, you hear white noise hum from the speaker and the familiar higher pitched male voice echoes around the chamber.
“Good day, Dr. Wesker.” The voice is the same one you heard from the thin silhouetted man when you first arrived. He speaks in a slow, deliberate tone.
“Hello.” You answer back looking directly into the camera, keeping your tone neutral.
“I understand you had a little -detour- on the way to your room.”
“I did.”
“I would encourage you not to indulge in your wanderlust again, but you strike me as the type to take that as a challenge.”
You narrow your eyes at the camera and purse your lips. You don’t want to give anything away that would confirm the man’s assumption is correct. When you continue to be silent, the man speaks again.
“Forgive me, we haven’t made a proper introduction. I am Youju, one of the head researchers for Neo Umbrella. Welcome to my facility.”
You can’t find it in you to even care who he is. It doesn’t matter in the grand scope of things. As far as you’re concerned, Umbrella (or Neo Umbrella) was still just a terrorist organization that made bioorganic weapons. You don’t care about the specifics of what that means unless it’s relevant to preventing an outbreak.
“Will you just cut to the chase?”
There’s a pause from the speaker. “Pardon?”
You sigh and cross your arms, still looking into the camera. “I’ve done this song and dance multiple times and I have no patience for the dramatics anymore. What do you want?”
Silence from the speaker. You let out an annoyed huff.
“Do you have a new virus you want to test out on me? An old one you revamped? I’ve been proposed with job offers before but I’m letting you know right now-”
“No, no miss. Your purpose here today is much more… personal.”
That can’t be good.
“So I’m here for revenge? You’re going to have to specify. Albert had a lot of enemies, and I couldn’t be bothered to keep up with them.”
“You misunderstand what I mean when I say personal.” You can hear an underlying tone of deviousness in that statement. Youju continues.
“Tell me doctor, how have I gone all these years without knowing Albert Wesker had a son?”
You stand in stunned silence. Wesker? A father? The thought makes you want to laugh in disbelief. The only thing that stops you from doing so is the confidence in Youju’s voice.
What kind of ploy is this?
Is he trying to get you to admit a secret you don’t even have? You spend the next few moments thinking over what the man had just said, when you hear him tap the mic, which results in your ears being assaulted with high pitched feedback and you reflexively covering your ears.
“I’m not a patient man, doctor. Answer me.” Youju’s words are drawn out with a mocking, sing-song voice.
You lower your hands and stare directly into the camera, making a conscious effort to keep your tone even. “We never had any kids.”
Silence falls over the chamber again. Long enough that you think Youju must have left. However, you hear his voice again, but this time you hear a smile in his words.
“… well this is quite an interesting development. I have someone I want to introduce you to. Mrs. Wesker.”
The tone in his voice clearly indicates he doesn’t believe you.
A deep metallic click sounds through the chamber before the metal shutters next to you begin to raise themselves up, groaning their whole journey to the ceiling. As they ascend, the shutters reveal a window to another room. Although surprisingly, there aren’t any Neo Umbrella personnel behind the glass. Instead, the panels reveal an identical chamber to yours, except it’s Jake on the other side of the glass sitting on the bed and leaning on his knees. The bottoms of his pants are covered in dark mud, a part of his sleeve looks scorched, and there’s a sizeable gash on his temple that had scabbed over next to his buzzed ginger hair. Blood that has long since dried had trickled down next to the large diagonal scar on the left side of his face. In other words, he’s much worse for wear than the last time you saw him. Whoever came into the room to investigate the alarm really did a number on him.
You see a discarded bundle of gauze with a slightly bloody cotton ball in Jake’s room. These people took blood from him too.
That grating voice over the loudspeaker interrupts your thoughts.
“Mr. Muller! I hope you’re finding your accommodations acceptable.”
Acceptable was a stretch, but at least your rooms had the bare necessities. You can’t say the same for your past accommodations with other organizations.
Jake shrugs and leans back, taking a look around the room. You hear his voice come from a hidden speaker near the window.
“Not bad, asshole. Feels like I’m shacking up at the Shitz Carlton.”
You would have smiled at that if that nagging sense of familiarity from earlier wasn’t still wracking your brain.
Where have I seen him before?
Youju quips back with that knowing tone over the speaker. “Even when corned in the lion’s den, you still have something witty to bite back with. Just like your father so I’m told.”
Jake’s carefree demeanor grows more rigid; shoulders squared, clenched jaw and sharpened expression. The man’s family is a sensitive subject.
“Where are my manners? Dr. Wesker have you had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Muller?”
It was hard to tell, but you could have sworn you saw Jake perk up at hearing your dreaded last name. You stare at him a moment longer.
“Can’t say I have before today.”
“Really? Are you certain?” The way Youju says that makes it seems like he’s trying to make you doubt an obvious answer to a trivia question. You stare at Jake, and he stares back, unblinking.
You turn back towards the camera.
“I would remember the scar. I haven’t met this man.”
“Interesting. Why don’t you look closer?”
The man from the speaker obviously wants to get some sort of point across to you, so you humor him. Sighing and shifting your weight, you turn to Jake. You look past the grime, the evidence of fights lost, and modern clothes.
You look at his face, his eyes…
You stop breathing.
You thought about what Youju had said before. Albert Wesker had a son.
Your mind races with a cacophony of scrambled thoughts over the next few seconds.
How did these people figure out Wesker had a son before you did? He looks like him. How did he go this long without being discovered? It’s likely Jake’s blood is special like Albert’s, so they’d want a promising candidate for virus injections. Who is his mother?
You don’t know where it comes from in the moment, but all you can picture is a displeased Albert holding a ginger headed baby, with his nice work shirt covered in spit up while another woman takes a picture and laughs.
It starts as a giggle, but the longer you think about this scenario, the more ridiculous the thought becomes and the harder it becomes to keep your shoulders still.
“So tell me doctor, what are your thoughts?” Youju replies smugly, waiting for your response.
You can’t help it. You start laughing like an insane woman. Jake’s existence was the cherry on top of an already stressful situation. Your body is exhausted from the journey here, you’re still processing the emotional whiplash from seeing and destroying the Uroboros sample, you’re mentally and emotionally done with everything that could possibly relate to Wesker and now you find out he has a son that isn’t yours? You just find the whole situation so absurd that you can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it.
It's clear that Youju doesn’t find your reaction amusing. His tone is cold and controlled when he speaks next. “Enlighten me Wesker, what could possibly be so funny?”
When you finally catch your breath, you look at the camera again with tears in your eyes from laughing so hard.
“This… establishment is really scraping the bottom of the barrel for bright and promising imbeciles, aren’t they?”
Silence, then the sound of a throat being cleared.
“Oh really? And why is that?”
Youju’s voice is flat. Controlled. You had struck something sensitive, and you intend to use it to your advantage to get a moment alone with Jake.
“Because this is ridiculous! Albert Wesker? A father- his father? Are we talking about the same Wesker?”
“His blood sample suggests otherwise-”
“And how do you know that exactly?”
Silence.
You let out a deranged cackle.
“I think I understand now. You found this stranger helping me in the middle of your ocean getaway, you thought he looked like Wesker, and your only plausible conclusion was that he has to be my son. So you’re comparing his DNA to mine because Wesker’s genome is impossible to find. Is that it?”
Youju struggles to stay composed under a guise of false confidence.
“Well we… any reputable institution would confirm hypotheses by… conducting their own independent tests and gathering their samples directly from the source.”
You hum and step a little closer to the camera.
“You know, Umbrella used to check their homework before going through the trouble of kidnapping persons of interest. Just goes to show that the copy is always going to be a letdown from the original.” You made sure to look straight into the camera when you say that, and it has the desired effect.
“You…I-I’ll know you’re lying one way or another soon Wesker!” Unlike before, there was no trace of confident humor. Instead, the voice spits out the words with prideful fury.
“Then by all means, do it. Waste everyone’s time. Hell, I’ll even volunteer for another blood sample when it comes back negative.”
It’s silent for a long time until the white noise from the speaker cuts out and all you can hear is the fluorescent lights above you.
You hear a muffled voice on the other side of the glass. “Hey Wesker!” Youju must have switched off the window speaker.
You let out a sharp breath through your nose. You turn to the window. Jake stands there, forearm resting on the glass above his head and observing you like a slide under a microscope. “Like I told you before, just Doc is fine.” You respond, annoyed.
You look up at the camera and see its beady red light still trained on you. You look between the camera and Jake. No use being stealthy. You walk over to the window with a determined look on your face, already in problem solving mode.
“We both know that test is going to come back negative.”
“Uh huh… and?” Jake responds, unimpressed.
“Personnel are going to come back eventually for another sample. Make it count and make it hurt although based on your current state-” You gesture to Jakes muddy and burnt clothes. “-your technique needs some work.”
Jake scowls. “My ‘technique’ is just fine.”
“Then prove me wrong.”
It doesn’t take too long for your assumption to come true. After a long stretch of time that you try to fill by pacing your room, you hear several sets of footsteps outside the room. A moment later, you see two men in lab coats accompanied by one guard armed with an electric baton and one armed with a pistol enter Jake’s room on the other side of the glass. 
Jake deals with them in a similar quick and efficient fashion to what you saw before when you first met him, except his moves are much more violent and incensed. Nothing like the cool and confident rescuer you first thought him to be.
The men in lab coats gesture for Jake to roll up his sleeve. Jake complies and one of the men puts a band on his upper arm to cut off blood flow. When the other man goes to do the blood draw, Jake grabs the syringe and plunges it into the man’s eye, causing to scream in pain and stumble back. The other scientist is frozen in fear as the two guards spring into action. The guard with the baton reaches Jake first, but he’s prepared to duck under the guard’s wide swing and he easily kicks the guard’s feet out from under him in one graceful move. As soon as the guard’s body hits the floor, Jake wastes no time grabbing the back of his head and chin and forcing his neck to an unnatural angle, immediately making the guard go limp.
The other guard is yelling something in that unfamiliar language while pointing his gun at Jake, but Jake doesn’t even acknowledge it as he charges at him with full speed. The guard is only able to shoot once, barely missing his shot, before Jake unleashes a flurry of blows, his skill in hand-to-hand combat evident in the way he dodges all the guard’s attempts at defense with ease.
While Jake is busy with the other guard, the remaining scientist finally comes to his senses and begins to run out of the room. But by the time he makes it to the door of Jake’s chamber, Jake has already disarmed and shot the other guard in the head. By the time the scientist opens the door, Jake has already lined his shot up perfectly and shoots the scientist dead in his tracks, blood leaking from the bullet wound on the back of his head.
The sight in the other room is grisly, but nothing you’re not already used to from the lifestyle you’ve lived. Once the last scientist is taken care of, you knock on the window to get Jake’s attention. He turns to you, breathing heavily and ripping off the rubber armband from earlier.
“Grab all their keycards! Can’t hurt to have them just in case.”
Jake nods and grabs the keycards from all the bodies, then exits the room. Shortly after, there’s a ping from your door and it opens to reveal Jake on the other side of it.
“Let me see?” You request, briskly walking outside the room and holding out your hand for the keycards. Jake plops them in your hand, looking at you closely. You ignore it and flip through the keycards, trying to discern security level but failing because the only difference between the two are the colors; red for the scientists and black for the guards. You halve them and give one of each back to Jake, which he pockets. He’s still holding the pistol he got from the guard at his side.
“Guess we’ll find out which have higher clearance when the time comes.”
Jake is still looking at you with that analyzing expression. “So you-” Jake is interrupted by an ear piercing alarm and the room is bathed in a foreboding red light.
“Time to move!” Jake grabs your upper arm before you can protest and runs out a door and down the hallway, half dragging you behind him while you struggle to keep up with his pace. You don’t know where you’re running to and Jake doesn’t appear to know either. You both keep running until you reach a four-way hallway where the alarm isn’t as loud and the lights are normal. Jake pauses, taking a moment before deciding where to run. You take the opportunity to yank your arm back, rubbing away the sting of Jake’s harsh grip.
“Wait, why aren’t there any guards? Or people?” You say, not quite sure where to go. Maybe it’s residual memories from working at Umbrella, but seeing the nearly identical hallways so empty is setting off alarm bells in your head.
“That’s what you’re worried about right now?” Jake replies, irritated, taking a few steps to look down one of the hallways trying to decide where to go while he holds his pistol defensively, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.
“There’s no people! You don’t find that weird?”
“We’ve got bigger problems right now!” Jake snaps, looking at you with a cold stare. Not a second later, the ear-piercing alarm cries overhead and the lights flick to red.
“We’re going left.” Jake says, running down the left hallway with you tailing right behind him. As you’re running, you notice the grating on the floor.
You realize it’s like the flooring in the specimen room, and suddenly more details about this place make sense.
There’re no people around because they use the knockout gas as a security measure.
The guards wear gas masks so they don’t lose consciousness during breaches.
The alarms and lights warn employees to get to a safe place or avoid the area.
Unfortunately, you put all of this together in the middle of the hallway when the security doors at both ends light up red, rise up from the floor, and close with loud metallic clicks. You hear loud hissing from below you, and you realize with dreaded clarity that the hallway is starting to fill up with gas.
You quickly scan the hallway and see a door with a red marking on it like the one on the scientist keycard.
“Red door on your right! Move it!” You command, already running to the door, keycard in hand.
You don’t need to tell Jake twice. Jake wastes no time dashing into the suggested room once you scan the card. You follow Jake into the room right on his heels. The second you’re through the threshold of the door, you scan the keycard to close the door and engage the emergency lock, emergency protocols drilled into your head from your time at Umbrella taking over. The door beeps and hisses shut just in time to cut off the gas from invading the room you and Jake just entered. The room appears to be some kind of office with several desks around the room. The alarm on the other side of the door is barely heard in this room. You’re safe. For now.
You take a shaky and labored breath while leaning against the door, trying to get your bearings.
Too close.
Your break is quickly interrupted by an accusatory comment from Jake. “You knew him well, huh?”
You stay silent and finally look at Jake. His expression is a cocktail of anger and frustration, even as he’s trying to catch his breath. You glance at Jake’s hand by his side; he’s gripping his pistol tightly and his face is grim and cold. It doesn’t help that you’re looking at Jake with an exasperated and annoyed look.
“You of all people should know why I don’t freely give out my last name.”
You give Jake a ‘what the fuck are you doing’ look and Jake tightens his grip on his pistol as he lifts it a few inches like he’s thinking about aiming it. A few seconds pass and Jake takes a deep breath as he sheathes the pistol.
“Fair enough. But I have questions.”
You let out a crazed laugh and start to feverishly pace the room, still in disbelief at the sudden appearance of your husband’s bastard child. “I’m sure you do! I’ve sure as hell got some!” Your tone comes off as angry, but in reality you’re frustrated.
“I’m not too happy he’s my dad either lady!”
“That’s not- ugh. I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s just-” You take a breath and try to relax your shoulders, so you don’t snap at Jake again. “The B.S.A.A. and I have a deal. I tell them everything I know, and I help their scientists deal with bioterrorism. In exchange, I’m supposed to get protection and they keep me in the loop. Simple right? But then-” You stop pacing and gesture to Jake. “-I get kidnapped, again, and I find out my dead husband has a whole ass… grown… child! In their organization! That’s a pretty major development if you ask me!”
You stop pacing the room and plop down in a chair and put your head in your hands, then run your hands through your hair. What else aren’t the B.S.A.A telling you? What isn’t Chris telling you? Did he know about this? He has to. You haven’t done anything to your knowledge to warrant them keeping something this big from you. Did they think you’d not take the news well? Take it out on Jake? Leak the information out of misplaced anger for Albert being with another woman?
“I don’t care what kind of bullshit deal you’ve got with the Bioterrorism Boy Scouts. I’ve got questions and I think considering everything, I deserve some fucking answers.” Jake’s steely look from the chamber is trained directly on you.
“You-” You stop. You’re about to tell him now isn’t the time and that you both need to prioritize finding a radio to call for help and come up with an exit plan, but you don’t. You can’t deny that you want to know more about Jake. He’s rightfully demanding answers about a father he presumably never knew. You know the B.S.A.A hasn’t been forthcoming about new information to you, so they probably haven’t disclosed much to Jake. You also know they won’t be too pleased about you spilling top secret intel about Albert to his son.
“You’re right. He’s your dad, you deserve to know. You didn’t hear this from me, okay? I don’t need more reasons for B.S.A.A.’s finest to dislike me.”
Jake silently looks at you, then nods his head. “Deal.”
You nod back. “Alright. You first.”
Jake leans against the wall, looking at you with a serious expression. “What kind of man was Albert Wesker?”
You look at him, confused. “I’m assuming you already know what kind of man he was.”
“I do. I’ve heard a hell of a lot about my old man, but not from the woman who knew him best. What kind of man was he?”
“An intelligent psychopath with a god complex.” You pause. “Well... the god complex came later. But still.”
“Intelligent? That’s not what I heard.”
“What did you hear then?”
“That he was crazy and he tried to destroy the world.” Jakes voice drips with disdain.
“Crazy and intelligent aren’t mutually exclusive traits. Are you positive that these people didn’t know who you were before they tested your blood?”
Even with everything that had just happened, you still couldn’t wrap your head around why you were brought here. To your knowledge, Neo Umbrella didn’t know Jake existed before an hour ago, let alone know that he was Albert’s son. How they knew he was Albert’s son is still unclear to you since his genome is highly classified information. The man on the speaker said your purpose here was personal but didn’t give any indication that it was related to revenge. What did he mean by that? How does this all connect?
“Hundred percent. If he was like that, why’d you marry him then?” Jake’s tone is accusatory, and a scowl that eerily reminds you of Albert adorns his face.
You’re annoyed with the one-word answer and his tone, but you keep your feelings to yourself. You know Jake has complicated feelings when it comes to his father, and he’s dead. You’re the next best thing when it comes to closure. After a moment you calmly and neutrally respond to Jakes question.
“When I first met him, I thought he was a very different man. Sure, he was stoic, cold and all business at the Umbrella Labs, but with me he was romantic, charismatic, and thoughtful." You feel like Jake’s gaze is piercing into your soul, so you look away and stare at the ground instead. “Three years I thought that. Then the mansion incident happened, and everything changed for the worse.”
“Romantic? Hmph. Yeah sure…”
You frown and let out a resigned sigh, shoulders slumping in the process, and you respond in a tired tone. “Has there ever been anyone in your life that you trusted with your whole being and they ended up being someone you didn’t even recognize?”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jake cross his arms and scowl become more prominent. Another sensitive subject. You move on.
“He was unfathomably good at making you believe he was someone else. He did it with me. He did it with his S.T.A.R.S. squad at R.P.D. He even did it to Umbrella. In the end, he was just a power-starved monster.”
“R.P.D? He was a cop too?”
You turn your head back towards Jake in surprise. You would have thought that Albert’s previous jobs were easy pieces of information to get ahold of, but then again, Jake may have not cared enough to know. Jake’s expression is still unreadable apart from his voice dripping with contempt as he asked that question. You keep your answer clinical and to the point. “Yeah. He was a scientific prodigy and worked at Umbrella as a researcher really young. Then one of his projects stalled and he became an Umbrella spy and worked in the U.S. Army and then became the captain of the Rescue Service at the police station. After that: bioterrorist.”
You stop and wait for any follow up questions. When Jake only continues to stare you down, you ask your next question.
“Who knows that he’s your father?”
“Couple of guys in the B.S.A.A. and a handful of government agents. Everyone else who knew is dead. What happened after the Mansion Incident? Between you two? There has to be more to that story.” Jakes expression grows darker and more serious.
The thought crosses your mind that you should lie about how you felt, but you have a feeling that you needed to be open with Jake. He deserves the truth, no matter how unpleasant the answer will be.
“I was devastated. When what was left of his team returned from that mansion, I simply didn't want to believe it. I didn't even know he worked for the R.P.D. before that day, and they’re telling me he led his team to die at a mansion in the mountains with a secret Umbrella lab I didn’t know existed? The whole thing sounded crazy." You stop and choose your next words delicately before continuing.
"You have to understand that I loved him at the time. I was in denial. I was mourning. I didn't know he survived the mansion until the Racoon City incident. He could have let me die in Racoon when everything when to shit but he didn't. Instead, he sent a mercenary after me to rescue me and kept me with him until he was killed."
Jake gives you a long look when you finish, his eyes fixed and unblinking. You can tell he’s digesting your every word, as his jaw tenses and his knuckles whiten from the force of his fists clenching with his arms are still crossed.
“… so he saved you?”
His voice is icy, and there’s a dangerous edge to his tone that you’ve never heard before. Each word sounds like it’s taking great effort to force out. “Why?”
A pang of fear goes through you at his change of tone. You hit something sensitive, and you don’t even know what it is, which only makes you more nervous. “I don’t have a good answer for that.” Your voice comes out softer than you intend, but you do a good job of masking how intimidated you are by Jake in the moment. Logically, you know he’s probably not going to fly off the handle and do anything to you, but his eyes and expressions are so similar to Albert’s that it’s instinctively putting you on edge.
Unless Albert told you directly, knowing the inner workings of his mind was a challenging task even for you. You’d asked yourself that question and reflected on a possible answer countless times over the years, and each time you came to a slightly different conclusion. On the occasional day where you really missed your marriage before the Mansion Incident, you thought he may have been fond of you in some way. On days like this, your theories were a bit more realistic. You were a means to an end.
Either way, Jake’s eyes are boring into your soul as he’s waiting for you to answer his question.
“At the time, I thought it was because he loved me. But now-” You pause for a moment, desperately trying to gather your thoughts to present them in a way that won’t upset Jake further. “-I have two theories. Either he saw me as an asset with my virology knowledge and kept me close just in case, or he just saw me as something that was his. He almost always used possessives when he addressed me. My darling, my dear, my love. That kind of thing.”
Jake remains silent and his body language still has that edge to it like a cord dangerously close to snapping. You opt to ask a more neutral question.
“How long have you known about Wesker?”
“A year. So he saw you as an asset? You helped him with his plans?”
“No! Fuck no. He definitely wanted me to, but I refused every single time. I still looked at all the lab results and things the he left laying out to stay up to date on what he was planning, but I never gave him feedback.”
“If you refused, why the hell did he keep you around?” Another accusatory, but valid question. Albert wasn’t exactly the forgiving type if he didn’t get what he wanted.
“I think he thought he could wear me down or change my mind eventually. I work fast. I’m good at seeing patterns and remembering small details. My guess is that he didn’t want to get rid of me if there was the possibility of me being useful.” You catch yourself becoming slightly defensive, so you make a conscious effort to reel your emotions in before you ask Jake your question. “Where’d you grow up?”
“Edonia. If you were so against helping him, then why did you stay, huh?”
You’re starting to feel anger boil up in you.
“I was just happy to have my husband back at first! I tried leaving when I realized what he wanted to do. I really did. But by the time I took off the rose colored glasses, I’d seen too much and I was either locked up or he had someone babysitting me so I couldn’t run off. And Edonia? Really? That’s a long way from the U.S. Is that where your mom’s from?”
“Why do you care, huh?” Jake snaps at you, fire in his eyes and nostrils flaring.
You’re slightly taken aback with Jake’s combative response. “Because if anyone finds out she’s associated with Wesker in any way, she’s going to be in danger and needs protection.”
“Don’t need it. She’s dead.” Jake’s face holds no traces of relaxed cockiness like earlier. His expression has morphed into an explosive combination of wrath and pain. “And you know why? Because daddy dearest wasn’t there to pay for her medical bills. He walked out and didn’t fucking look back, yet she still acted like he was this exceptional man who could do no wrong.”
The atmosphere of the room is thick with tension. Even through Jake is a few feet away still leaning on the desk, you feel small and defenseless sitting in your office chair. You feel like the energy in the room could snap at any moment, so you keep your tone sympathetic, but firm.
“I’m sorry about your mom. But you need to believe me when I tell you that you are lucky he was never in your lives-“
“Lucky? That psychopath sent someone to a city that was tearing itself apart to save you but couldn’t send a damn check to save my mom?”
You’ve been patient throughout this whole exchange, and you were resigned to be Jake’s verbal punching bag. But suggesting Albert would have helped Jake’s mother without consequences? That’s the final straw that inevitably makes you lose your composure.
“Did you grow up feeling loved?” The question is sudden. Blurted without thinking of what could come after.
Jake’s angered expression morphs into confusion. “What?”
You know you’re playing with fire with this line of questioning, but you don’t see any other option that will be as effective. “Did your mother… tell you she loved you, make sure you had your coat before leaving the house? Hug you goodbye? Tell you bedtime stories?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Did she?” You don’t back down. You need to make him understand.
“Yeah! She did!”
You nodded. “Good! You wouldn’t have gotten that with Albert. Far from it!”
“Oh yeah? And why do you think that Doc?”
“Is that your question?”
“Answer it.” Jake spits, anger boiling to the surface.
“Do you know anything about Project W?”
You take the silence as a no and continue.
“Albert was a product of one of Oswald Spencer’s projects, founder of Umbrella, headed by Dr. William Wesker. It was a eugenics-based plan to create a race of more intelligent, more fit more whatever superhumans. Your father was essentially raised in a lab.”
You pause to make sure Jake is following your words and keep going.
“There were hundreds of kids in this program. When they were adults, Spencer weeded out a group of thirteen including your father. All of them were given the progenitor virus whether willingly or unknowingly, and only Albert and another woman I’ve never met survived. Albert was the only one who gained superhuman abilities.”
Jake is silent for a moment, then responds, “When you say willingly or unknowingly-”
“Some of these kids didn’t know they were in the program.”
Silence.
“That is where your father came from. You want to know what kind of man he was? He was opportunistic and manipulative. I have no doubt that he would have used you as a guinea pig just like he was. He would have framed it in a way that made it look like he was doing what was best for you too. If he had stayed in your life, you would have been living in a lab waiting for him to shove a needle in your vein as a bonding activity.”
More silence. Jake’s expression is unreadable, but he doesn’t appear angry like before. His eyebrows are scrunched together and he looks at the floor, deep in thought. 
“Jake?” You say, gently. He doesn’t respond.
“Jake. Please look at me.” You try again a little louder, and he turns his head to look at you, Albert’s - Jake’s - pale blue eyes look more understanding.
“Do you understand everything I just told you?”
“Yeah. I just-” Jake pauses. “I don’t know what I was expecting to hear, but it wasn’t that.”
You nod and give him a sympathetic look. “I know it doesn’t make it better, but I don’t think he knew you existed. He would have seen you as an asset and tried to find you otherwise.”
Jake doesn’t say anything, but he nods his head to let you know he heard you.
“Loving him came at a price. Be thankful for the anonymity you have.”
“What was your price?”
Everything.
“My future.” Jake looks at you with an eyebrow raised, so you continue. “Because of the relationship I had with him, it’s impossible to live a normal life. I’ve tried, but there will always be people trying to find me to recruit me or kill me because of that.” You say this off-handedly. You’ve become used to this kind of life to the point where happenings like this feel routine.
You and Jake sit in silence. Jake’s presence doesn’t emit that aura of anger anymore.
“That’s not fair to you.”
You give Jake a wry smile.
“It’s not fair that he’s your father. We can’t change the past. But we can try to make the future a bit less shitty.” You quip with a wry smile.
Jake chuckles a little at that comment, and his smirk finally returns.
“You’re not-” Jake stops, and you wait for him to finish, “-how I expected you to be.”
“…thanks?” You reply, not sure if that’s a good thing or not.
Jake snorts at your comment. “And uh… sorry I got heated for a minute there.”
You give Jake a dismissive wave. “Hey, it’s not the first time I’ve gotten my ass chewed out because of Wesker, and it’s not going to be the last. At least yours was warranted. You love your mom. I can’t fault you for that.”
“Appreciate it.” Jake replies, his smirk disappearing after a moment.
“I’ve got one more… personal question.” Jake looks at you, a dark intensity to his gaze.
You nod. ”Go for it. You deserve to know.”
“Do you have any children?” After a long, silent pause, Jake’s eyes lose their intensity and he gives you a small, sympathetic look.
You give Jake a sad smile. “No. No we… everything I said before about bonding activities? That’s not anecdotal. Just conjecture. Just-“ You gesture to Jake. “You.”
That I know of.
You clear your throat. “How old are you, by the way? I’m just curious-”
“You don’t need to finish that, I get it. Twenty.”
“You look older.”
“Mercenary work and a civil war will do that to ya.”
“Sorry I didn’t mean to-”
“It’s okay.”
You shift in your seat from the awkward turn of events and say your thoughts out loud. “Let’s see…” You do the math in your head. “That would’ve been ’92. I met him in ’95. We got married in ’97...”
“And everything with Umbrella went to shit in ’98.” Jake finishes.
You feel the side of your mouth curl into a half smile. “You’ve done your homework.”
The alarm outside the room suddenly stops, and you hear a hissing noise from the hallway outside. You look to the door, then back at Jake. “I’ll tell you more later. We gotta get moving.”
You stand up from your chair and check the panel on the door. Still red. It’s going to take a minute or two for the gas to filter out of the hallway. You look over your shoulder at Jake.
“Did you end up finding that sample by the way? Or a way to contact the Tokyo base?”
Jake frowns and checks his pistol. “No, but I have a better idea of where those things could be.”
 You sigh and shake your head. “Better than nothing, I guess. Any theories?”
Jake shrugs. “Half this place used to be a military base and the other half an Umbrella lab that’s had some renovations. The old lab holds the old samples-”
“So the newer part of the lab should have the new samples and the military part should have a radio?”
Jake smirks and points at you. “If everything goes right, we’ll be outta here by sunset.”
The office door panel beeps and lights up green. You smile and slide the red card and the door swooshes open. You look back to Jake. “I like the sound of that. Let’s go.”
As you both walk back out into the hallway, you notice it’s still eerily empty. However, the security doors are still engaged at both ends of the hallway. You and Jake walk over to the door you were heading through before the lockdown. You scan the red keycard and it declines. You huff and scan the black keycard, and you hear the lock disengage and the security doors split open and return their respectful halves to the floor and ceiling. You look at the black keycard with a stern look as Jake walks though.
“Only guards can open security doors? That sounds like a shitshow waiting to happen.”
“You an expert on security now too? C’mon we’ve got a schedule to-”
Jake is cut off by a loud buzzer, followed by the security doors slamming shut so you and Jake are on opposite sides. Jake hurries up to the doors and looks at you through one of the small windows in the middle.
“What the hell? Try the card again maybe it’s a timer thing.”
You scan the black card again, but it returns an error message. You shake your head in annoyance, but then it turns into concern when you hear shouting and footsteps from the direction of the observation rooms you were held in.
“It’s giving me an error message. Try yours on that side!” You shout at Jake through the door.
You see Jake’s face as he scans the panel on his side but based on how Jake grits his teeth in frustration he’s probably not having any better luck than you. You hear shouting and footsteps growing louder. Jake notices and tries to pry open the security doors with his hands. You scan the red card again, but it also returns an error message.
“Shit! Jake, they know which cards we took and deactivated them. They’re no good!”
You throw down the cards and take a few steps back to get a better look at the hallway to find an alternate route or some structural weakness in the door arch, but you notice nothing. The sounds of guards shouting and running are getting even closer. Your only chance of getting out of here is Jake. He can’t be here when you’re ultimately discovered.
You hurry back up to one of the windows on the security door to shout at Jake. “You need to go, now!”
Jake ignores you and keeps looking for purchase on the door, but it’s too smooth to get a decent grip to pull it open.
“Jake!” You scold.
Jake pauses to look at you, scowling.
“They obviously want me alive I’ll be fine. You find that sample and radio for help. I’ll stall for as long as I can.”
Jake’s scowl on his face deepens as he tries to open the mechanical door again, but his efforts are fruitless. He finally slams a hand on the door and lets out an annoyed huff and looks back at you through the window.
“You’re sure you’ll be fine on your own?”
More yelling and bangs echo down the hall.
“More than likely, yes. Just be quick about it. I’d rather not be a lab rat if I can help it.”
Jake takes one more analyzing look at the door and gives you a curt nod, clearly not happy with the new set of circumstances.
“Don’t say anything that’ll piss em’ off more.”
“No promises, now go!”
You turn around at the sound of the opposite security door opening, and you hear Jake’s footsteps grow further and further before they disappear and are replaced with the stomping of a battalion of gas masked soldiers. A group of eight quickly block off your only exit and train their semi-automatic TMP’s on you. Seeing as you’re heavily outnumbered, you put your hands up in surrender.
As you do, a wiry man a little taller than you walks leisurely through the intimidating crowd of masked faces. He wears a suit under a pristine white lab coat and looks at you with cold eyes through a pair of square glasses.
“Where is Muller, Doctor?”
You recognize the lilting voice immediately. This is Youju. Your immediate impression is that he’s much too young to be the director of this facility. But then again, Umbrella is chock full of young prodigies. Time to buy Jake some time.
“I could care less about where he went. As I told you before, he’s not my son.”
“I see.” Youju walks a few steps past the line of guards towards you and looks at the mechanical door behind you, skeptical.
“Why stop here Dr. Wesker? Why this door?”
“Because your security system needs some work. It closed and it can’t be opened.” You reply, curtly.
“Then why didn’t you run?”
“I’ve been in enough scrapes to know when I’ve been backed into a corner.” It’s not a lie. Even though your main goal is to distract these people, you know when you’re beat. Especially when you have an overwhelming handful of guns trained on you.
Youju frowns. “You still haven’t answered my question. Where. Is. Muller?”
“I. Don’t. Know. We went our separate ways when it became convenient.” You reply condescendingly, already tired of answering Youju’s questions.
Youju narrows his eyes at you, calculating his response. “Very well then. Since you’re so keen on seeing what amenities this facility has to offer, allow me to give you a guided tour.”
“I’d rather go back to my room. I’ve had enough cardio for today.”
Youju waves his hand and the guards put their guns down, save for one who quickly positions himself behind you with his gun still aimed at your back. Youju gives you a chilling smile. “I must insist, Doctor.”
As Youju walks back through the crowd of guards, he announces one more command to the crowd of guards.
“Find the other one. Alive. Maim him if you must, but ensure he is brought to me in one piece.”
Not ten minutes later, Youju and his guard lead you deeper into the facility, seemingly with one destination in mind for your guided tour. Youju leads the way in front of you, while the soldier trails behind never once lowering his weapon. He seems to be leading you into the newly renovated parts of the lab. There are no windows into the many rooms you pass so you have no inkling of what could be going on behind closed doors, but Youju ignores all of them in favor of the main lab at the center of the facility.
He scans a white key card and a large lock disengages from the mechanism in the middle of the door, spinning until it’s completely free before the doors finally open to reveal another set of sliding doors. Youju scans the card again and enters with you and the soldier right behind him.
It's a room with several scientists checking over miscellaneous machines and monitors, as well as fridges with multiple different colored chemical substances. All of them periodically glance over their respective stations and into the observation chamber below through the window that takes up the entire expanse of the wall opposite the door. A handful of soldiers line the wall in the back of the room. Youju saunters in and stands by a monitor that flickers to show a different part of the facility every fifteen seconds or so. A microphone stands idly next to it. Youju trains his dark eyes on you, a barely noticeable sly smile on his face.
“Welcome to the inner sanctum, Doctor. I would like your thoughts on my latest and greatest project.”
You cross your arms defiantly and shift your weight with a bored expression on your face. “As I said before, I have no interest in any job you have to offer me.”
“I didn’t offer you employment. I only ask that you take a cursory look. I assure you, he will be of great interest to you.” Youju speaks in that same, know-it-all tone from when you were stuck in your quarters. Like he wants you to figure out his point.
Better yet, who’s ‘he?’
You roll your eyes and humor him.
You look over the consoles and into the chamber below. There are illuminated chambers filled with substances you don’t recognize and over a dozen machines tracking something you can’t discern from this distance. The cylindrical tank in the middle of the room is the focal point of the observation chamber. It glows with a foreboding orange light, illuminating the space in between itself and you. At first, you can’t tell what the tank holds with the light emanating from it shining in your eyes. When your eyes adjust to the light, one by one you notice features of the creature inside; you see the outline of a man. Then notice one of its arms is much longer and darker than the other. The scar tissue across its chest. Then, most devastatingly, disheveled, slicked back blonde hair.
Your heart drops and your annoyed expression shifts into something much more terrified.
“Where… that’s not…”
But it was. Behind the glass in the chamber below was the body of a mutated Albert Wesker floating in a liquid filled chamber. His chest and legs are overtaken by burnt scar tissue, but otherwise look about the same as the last time you saw him; although you don’t like to think about that series of events.
The bomber. The volcano. The helicopter that he almost pulled down into the lava with him. Any one of those scenarios could have easily ended with your death, the world ending or Uroboros in your arm. Not that the three were that different regarding the death part.
 The last time you saw Wesker, he had mutated into the monster he had become on the inside. His snake eyes glowed red, black Uroboros burst from beneath his skin around his eyes, worms of Uroboros completely overtook his chest and arms, which he could stretch to great lengths, and he was altogether consumed by rage. Rage against Chris for besting him once again, rage against himself for underestimating him, and you were certain rage against you for betraying him.
You stare blankly into the chamber as the reality of the situation sets in: Youju went to great lengths to find Albert. You didn’t know how he could have found him after so long, but you knew this man had to mine through volcanic rock at best and perform an underwater excavation of a volcano at worst to exhume him. Whatever he has planned, it can only spell doom for whatever unfortunate soul falls in Albert’s wake. Your body can’t bring itself to move, so you stand frozen by the console of the observation room overlooking the chamber Albert is in.
“The union of Wesker and Uroboros is truly a remarkable miracle of nature,” Youju says smugly, relishing in your shock.
All you can do in the moment is gape at your husband in horror.
“There’s nothing natural about this.” Your voice comes out small. Rattled. Nothing like how you planned when you stepped into this room.
“Natural? That’s a matter of perspective, Doctor. We are seeing evolution in real time.” Youju is enjoying your torment, but there is a pit forming in your stomach that is screaming for you to talk sense into him. You know in your bones that this is a bad idea, but you can’t articulate it into words that will break through to the Director. You knew men like him. He won’t listen until it’s too late, but you try anyway.
“Whatever you’re planning is not worth the consequences you’re going to reap from playing God.” You still stare at Wesker’s peaceful, mutated face.
“I assure you it will be. Your husband is an incredible case study. He was medically dead when we found him, but you know as well as I do that the dead don’t tend to stay that way for long in our profession. Uroboros preserved his brain and nervous system better than any modern medical instrument you or I could have hoped to have at our disposal.” Youju explains with pride.
“Weapon, DNA, or emotional blackmail?” You reply cooly, still staring at Wesker in the chamber below.
“Whichever has the highest bidder. Although I think the value of a subject like him transcends material wealth, so I’ll hold off on an auction for now. I have more pressing plans first.”
You break your gaze from Wesker’s body in the chamber and look at Youju with a cautious expression, curious as to what he means.
“We know his brain is showing activity, but he hasn’t woken up you see. All the regular avenues for breaking comatose states have been exhausted.”
Youju turns to the chamber and puts his hand on the window thoughtfully as he speaks.
“Sure, we could harvest his DNA and easily make our investment in excavating him a drop in the bucket. As you’ve said, his DNA is one in a trillion. But it’s not just his DNA that makes him unique, it’s his mind as well. He was- is- the greatest mind manufactured by man. By Oswald Spencer himself. What I would give to speak with him! To know his thoughts on my research. To continue where Spencer was forced to stop.”
The Director looks away from Wesker and back to you, with a giddy look you know all too well. It’s a dissecting look of a scientist attempting to peel away the mystery of an unsolved problem.
“But then one of my researchers had an interesting hypothesis. This is not a regular subject so normal avenues are more than likely going to prove fruitless. Perhaps Wesker needs a familiar face as an extra incentive to chat with us. Someone who knew him much more personally than anyone else. Someone like you. We’ve already tried recordings of your voice, and they’ve yielded positive results, but not the one’s we’re looking for.”
“The saying ‘you should never meet your heroes,’ definitely applies in this case. You need to quit while you’re ahead. You’re inviting nothing but trouble by indulging this fantasy.” You warn, unable to wipe the look of barely contained terror on your face.
Youju tilts his head and gives you a mocking pout.
“Awww… what’s wrong Dr. Wesker? I thought this would be a happy reunion for you. After all, you survived him. He respected your intellect. It’s not every day that a genius offers his lover a place beside him in a new world. And don’t deny it. I’ve seen the footage of him offering you Uroboros on multiple occasions. I’m not a betting man, but I’d say those weren’t the only times he tried to convince you.”  
“Director, you need to stop-”
“Not until I get what I want.” Youju’s gaze turns cold and he flips a switch on the console in front of you both. A red light above it switches to green. The guard behind you raises his gun to your head. Youju turns his face towards the microphone but keeps his eyes on you.
“Albert Wesker, you have a visitor. A personal visitor. Go ahead and say hello my dear.”
You avoid looking into the chamber and keep your mouth shut while staring down Youju. You would rather die than awaken that monster.
“Your wife is here to see you Dr. Wesker. Mrs. Doctor Wesker, if you know what’s good for you, please speak into the microphone.” The tone the Director uses reminds you of a car salesman; sleazy and said with a gritted smile. Attempting to get you to bend to his will no matter the cost if it gets you to sign the metaphorical dotted line.
When you keep your mouth shut, Youju motions to the guard behind you and you feel the cold steel of the muzzle of the gun on the back of your head. Your breath becomes unsteady, but you stay silent. He needs you. He wouldn’t kill you so quickly when he needs you. You’re sure of it.
“You know I’m not a patient man dear. Speak, or I will make you.” Youju spits out the warning, his patience already wearing thin.
You clench your jaw and stay silent. You fully intend to stay quiet, even though the urge to call Youju a dumb motherfucker is strong. You see a flicker on one of the cameras on Youju’s monitor. A figure. You weren’t going to pay it any mind, but even out of the corner of your eye you recognize the large scar on the side of Jake’s face.
Youju lets out an annoyed huff at your continued silence, currently unaware of Jake’s presence. “I wanted to avoid making this messy, but it seems you’ve left me with no other option.”
Youju turns around and starts to bend down towards a drawer below the monitor. You panic. Jake is your only hope in getting the B.S.A.A. here. You can’t let his stealth go to waste.
“Albert!” You spit out the name without thinking. You already feel sick to your stomach at your choice of action, but it has its intended effect immediately. Youju snaps his attention away from the monitor’s direction and back to you, then back to the chamber, then to a monitor off to the side that you now realize is displaying brainwave activity. His brainwave activity. You hadn’t noticed it before because the brainwaves were barely perceptible, only small mole hills on a nearly straight line. Now, like a rising tide, the red wave on the monitor grows in intensity along with your heartbeat.
Youju stares at the monitor with you in awe, then turns his attention to the chamber while speaking to you. “Go on. Tell him to wake up.”
“Albert dear?” You pause to take a shallow breath of air. The red wave rises higher on the monitor. “I need you to wake up.”
The more the red wave rises, the more animated the other scientists in the room become. Youju most of all. Everyone buzzes with excitement over their machines and data displaying on the screens, but all you can do is stare at Wesker in the chamber with a lump in your throat.
You have an idea on how to get the upper hand. It’s stupid, suicidal, and against everything your brain is telling you not to do, but if it works it’s an almost guaranteed way for these people to lock you in your room again until the B.S.A.A. can get here with proper reinforcements.
“Albert help me they have a gun to my head!”
Almost immediately, beeping sounds emanate from each and every machine in the room. One by one, every piece of machinery has warning lights on their displays and nervous chattering erupts from the scientists. The red wave on the brainwave monitor devolves into jittery valleys and peaks. You see Wesker in his water chamber twitching, and his peaceful face morph into an angered scowl that you know all too well.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Youju scolds as he switches off the microphone. He grabs your shoulder in a tight grip and walks you back closer to the door away from the window seemingly the only one not concerned with the sudden uptick in activity on the monitors and more peeved at your little stunt.
“That’s enough from you for now Doctor.” He turns his attention to the guard behind you. Take her back to-”
Youju’s command is interrupted by the sound of glass cracking and metal screeching in the chamber below. Youju’s eyes grow wide and he immediately rushes back over to the window. He turns his head to say something, but before he’s able to, a pipe breaks through the glass of the observation chamber and into Youju’s skull with so much force that blood splatters on you from across the room and you stumble to the floor in your shock.
All hell breaks loose. Some scientists scream, others duck and cover, a handful try and fail to open the door to the hallway, the soldier leaves your side and open fires on Wesker in the chamber along with the other ones in the room.
You can’t seem to escape from the bloodshed. No matter where you turn, more blood splashes across your clothes but you manage to keep your escape in mind: grab Youju’s white keycard to get out of the room. You do your best to block out the grisly sight of Youju’s head as you army crawl across the floor. The white keycard, now stained crimson in some places, hangs precariously from his belt. A black and blonde blur dives into the room from the chamber and the screams grow louder and more frightened. You grab the keycard and you crawl behind a large cabinet that got overturned in the chaos in the corner of the room and make yourself as small as possible by hugging your knees to your chest. You clutch the keycard for dear life.
Meanwhile, in the background, you hear Wesker spewing insults as he tears through the room.
“Ignorant cretins! Worthless, self-righteous chaff! Inferior good for nothing fools!”
Something in Wesker’s voice puts you on edge, and it has nothing to do with the fact he’s seething with rage or leaving a trail of blood and viscera and broken machinery in his wake. You can’t quite describe it, other than that it sounds wrong. The voice is Wesker’s, but the tone and intonation are just… off. Your Wesker spoke in a much sharper and eloquent manner. This voice is direct and garbled in some places.
In the moment, you don’t know which voice you’d prefer. You don’t have time to think on it when you feel a presence behind you. It’s only now that you realize the screams and cries of pain have gone silent. Your blood runs cold when you hear a familiar, yet unfamiliar voice in your ear that makes the hairs on your neck stand up.
“My dear? Oh, how I’ve missed you my sweet…”    
You freeze. His tone is uncannily gentle. He’s so close, you can feel Wesker’s breath on your ear and neck. Everything in your body is screaming at you to run, but it’s like Wesker’s words have you under a paralytic spell.            
“How dare they touch what’s not theirs…”
A wet, slimy and black tendril slowly makes its way into the corner of your vision and gingerly tucks a flyaway hair behind your ear. You can’t bring yourself to move.
You sense Wesker move his head closer to yours until you can feel the damp heat of him over your shoulder. Glass breaks on the other side of the room and he whips his head towards the sound. There’s one last scientist left. She’s trying to climb into the observation chamber, but she stepped on a piece of glass and now she’s gaping at Wesker in fear.
Wesker attacks her with the bloodlust of a wild animal, plunging his Uroboros arm into her chest and not stopping his assault until it reveals itself again when it pokes out through her mouth. She doesn’t even have a chance to scream. Only gurgle sounds of pain.
The grisly sight finally breaks the spell, and you bolt to the sliding doors and run the second the door registers Youju’s keycard.
You don’t stop when you hear Albert calling your name behind you.
You don’t stop when you see other guards and scientists coming out into the hallway to observe what caused such deafening, monstrous noises.  
You don’t stop when you hear more screaming and gunfire erupting behind you.
You have no destination in mind when the hallways become unrecognizable.
The only thing consuming your thoughts is the fact that your psychopathic husband is alive, and that you’ve doomed the world because you destroyed the only Uroboros sample in existence to stop him in a misguided attempt to save it.
a/n 2: How's that for angst? More juiciness in the next part :)
If you've made it this far THANK YOU and sorry for this part being long I thought it would ruin the flow to split it up into two parts.
Tag List: @killerwendigo
17 notes · View notes
lucydacusgirl · 3 months
Text
Thought I was soooo over it now I’m spending every day stopping myself from texting her. What if she doesn’t even know we’re not friends anymore!!!
8 notes · View notes
hazlelnoot · 2 months
Text
3 notes · View notes
insanechayne · 8 months
Text
~ ~ ~
#I have so much I want to say but nothing I can actually articulate#how do I make you see how much you’re hurting me? how do I make you see how much I love you at the same time?#you grew a conscience too little too late and I was left to hang for it#I keep trying to be who you want but it feels like there’s no version of me that will make you happy#and I feel the distance growing between us every day because of how you’re pushing me away#but still you’ll say everything is fine and I just have to accept things the way they are#it doesn’t matter what I say or do because everything I say/do is always wrong in your eyes#I’m always fucking things up somehow and making you angry#so it’s at the point where I just have to stifle my feelings and swallow my pride and try to keep you happy#do you remember how we became friends? you reached out to me to help me with my anxiety from a post you stumbled across#but I feel that now if I were to share any of those kinds of feelings with you I’d be mostly ignored or it would start another fight#how can you say you’re always supportive when there’s no way to talk to you when I really need you because you’re simply not here?#how can you be mad at me for wanting more time with you when there are days you only send me one message and nothing else?#and still the thought of losing you hurts so much that I’d rather just concede to whatever you want#I’d rather let you crush me and dictate how our whole relationship will go than see you walk away from me#I know that’s so unhealthy but I don’t care anymore because I just need you that much#I hate this stupid connection we seem to have and how we’re still so drawn to each other even when we’re hurt and angry#it would be so much easier if you were just some guy I could block#but you’re not because you’ve become my best friend and that in itself is so horribly pathetic it makes me sick#I just can’t get these thoughts out and so I feel sick and anxious and I just want to sleep this all away#how do I say any of this to you? i don’t think I could really#personal
3 notes · View notes
pepprs · 2 years
Text
i like uh. literally cannot believe what is happening is still happening btw.pain and suffering (update omg i hit tag limit CRINGE but i think i was done anyway lol)
#purrs#ive felt sort of beholden to keeping it quiet on here bc i felt bad since it was still kinda a secret irl. but i think the word is#traveling fast irl so im giving myself permission to talk about it with my dearest belovedest mutuals some of whom are irl friends i have#ghosted for the last week and a half despite initially trying to set something up bc i have been so miserable over it that i can’t function#and for that i apologize and i swear to god i will get it together eventually. but ok. the thing that happened is that. lol i am crying#typing it bc how do i even say it. my supervisor who is also my mentor who is also dare i say my friend who is also my close colleague who i#is also the reason i even got to the place im in to begin with in so many ways… got a new job. and didn’t tell us she did and dropped it on#us last week. literally a week after i started my new job and i was so so so looking forward to getting to work closely with her in this new#way at last and um. that is not happening anymore. and it could be so much worse like thank GOD she didn’t *** or whatever which is#something i worry about literally constantly. but this hurts. it’s devastating and i feel betrayed even though im so happy for her and she d#deserves it so much. and im so fucking sad and do fucking scared bc there’s literally 3 of us now and we have to NOT PANIC and act like we#are processing this totally fine or else we will face Consequences which are the same reasons she’s leaving probably. lol. idk. it’s very#cringe to post about it and not vague and i know it’s like weird to be close to work and to your colleagues and whatever but it has never#been just work and it’s like. how can this person come into my life and utterly transform it and we go on this journey together and we JUST#reached this beautiful glorious pinnacle but then you leave?? and who knows how long she was planning to do this. lol. and despite how s#much i care abt her im the least close to her personally out of everyone on the team so i am suffering and withering and exploding and#sobbing and howling and barking and i want to talk to her so bad and tell her how much she means to me and that it is physically painful to#think about doing this without her bc she was supposed to like. help me and stuff bc she went thru baiscally the same path im on lol and we#have a lot in common in terms of identity / life situation and i was like ummmmm hi can you teach me how to be a fuller version of myself.#and this ks like such a wake up call that no *i* need to teach me that and no one can. but i don’t want that to mean losing her and im so#scared that she won’t be in my life anymore and i am going to miss her so much. im going to miss every little thing and it’s killing me and#i can’t stop crying about it and it feels like a fucked up nightmare and everything is different now and im temporarily secon in command who#which is like wtf no that’s YOU. come back. how could you leave. but she needed to i guess and i just didn’t know how bad. but it hurts ummm#lol. and if she knew how hard ive been losing my shit i think she would be angry and sad and like surprised bc i think she thinks im#normaler than i am now but it’s like god. there was so much to look forward to and i was already feeling weird about the future and now it’s#like the little parts of it i at least knew i could count on are totally gone because she’s leaving us for fucking ****** of all places LMAO#delete later#i know it’s like weird to vent abt irl stuff / ppl so candidly i know what it suggests about me but this is like my best possible coping#mechanism rn i guess or at least it feels the best bc ppl like the posts and you don’t even have to say anything it just lets me know that#like. im not insane for it iwguess. even though iwreally feel like it. idk. i just am going to miss her so much. i wish i could stop crying
16 notes · View notes
Text
.
7 notes · View notes
inkoutsidethelines · 1 year
Text
Thinking about how I would write an adult Scooby-Doo series, because I think it can be done.
The first thing I’d do is make the characters actually be adults.  Still young, but adults, in the mid to late 20s range.  Mystery Inc. is a private detective type business that they run together.  In this universe, the supernatural/ghosts/etc are real, but not necessarily common, so when they take on a case, the culprit might be a person disguised as a monster, or it might actually be a real ghost.  The stakes can be higher; sometimes a bad guy is legitimately trying to kill them.  Sometimes the mystery they’re trying to solve is a murder.  Sometimes they actually get hurt on their cases.
Fred: the core of Fred’s character should be that he’s incredibly kind.  Like, give a stranger the shirt off his back kind.  The “Fred can’t talk to potential clients because he might take a case for free and we need to eat” kind.  He’s an honest and good person and sometimes gets himself into trouble because he assumes other people are too.  While he’s not very good at reading people or noticing ulterior motives, he’s brilliant when it comes to mechanical or engineering type stuff, so he’s the one who keeps the mystery machine running, builds their gadgets, and of course, designs the traps.
Daphne: she comes from old money, and her parents absolutely despise her life choices, to the point where they haven’t officially disowned her, but they have basically cut her off, so she doesn’t actually have access to any family money.  Growing up wealthy has granted her a variety of skills, including speaking multiple languages, horseback riding, and fencing.  She’s very into fashion and jewelry (even if she can’t afford it anymore) and has extensive knowledge of both that can occasionally provide a vital clue in a case. And even though her parents have cut her off, Daphne still has a wide network of contacts she can ask for favors sometimes, because she’s personable, and people tend to like her.  Daphne is also very emotionally intelligent, and is usually the one who can spot when someone is lying to them.
Side note - I ship Fred and Daphne, so I think I would start them off as an established couple for this universe.  Dating, engaged, married, I don’t care.  They are stupidly in love, ride or die for each other.  There’s no will they, won’t they, no worries about cheating.  They are in a healthy, happy, loving relationship, and no one (not even Daphne’s disapproving parents) are going to mess that up for them.
Velma: she is the forensics nerd who sometimes gets super excited about the wrong thing at the wrong time (”He was mummified in seconds? That’s so cool!” “Velma!  His wife is standing right there!” “Oh.  Sorry.”).  She’s not purposely insensitive, she just gets laser focused on her work and forgets to filter herself sometimes.  She’s also the one who can get so fixated on solving whatever mystery they’re working on, she’s willing to bend or maybe break laws.  Is breaking and entering really so bad?  Not if it gets them answers.
Shaggy: he is still the comic relief, but he’s the comic relief by being the only person in the group that actually has common sense.  He manages the business’s finances, he’s the only one who knows how to cook, and the others tease him for being a coward sometimes, but Shaggy maintains that if a ghost with an axe is coming for you, running is the only sensible option.  He should also have a range of random knowledge that sounds useless, but sometimes saves the day (ex ventriloquism, origami, the history of spoons, etc).
Scooby: as this is a universe where supernatural creatures exist, Scooby is an ancient eldritch type being that took a shine to Shaggy when he was a kid, and took the form of a talking dog to befriend and hang out with him.  Aside from the talking dog bit and not aging, he never uses his powers in a way that anyone notices.  The audience is not told upfront that Scooby is an ancient eldritch being; it should slowly be hinted at throughout the series so the audience put it together, but the characters never realize it.  Scooby genuinely considers Shaggy to be his best friend, and cares about the rest of the gang too.
61K notes · View notes
smoft-demons · 2 months
Text
MC falls asleep on him
_______
Lucifer:
‘…?!’ Is what Lucifer is thinking as your head drops onto his shoulder.
You had cajoled him into doing some of his constant paperwork in a bigger chair for a change. So there’s room for you to sit next to him! You’re not even demanding his attention, or the spare time that he doesn’t have, you’re being very considerate, you just wanted sit next to him, that’s all, you had promised!
Lucifer caved, because he is very soft for his human—even though he’s loathe to look like it. You were in fact being considerate… so he had brought a stack of relatively low-importance papers out of his office, into the living room.
You were sitting on a couch together, him with his stack of administrative papers and you with a homework assignment. You finished yours quickly, so you ended up playing a game on your DDD as you lean against him.
He checks on you periodically out of the corner of his eye. He’s relaxed though—as relaxed as Lucifer gets. This is peaceful. Meditative, almost. He’s happy. All his brothers are elsewhere, his tasks are not too overwhelming, he gets to have a nice, calming afternoon sitting in companionable silence with his favourite housemate…
A sudden weight falling on him jolts him out of his trance. Your cheekbone thunks against his shoulder. He blinks. Processing.
In quick succession, his brain goes like ‘..?!’ then ‘it is mid-afternoon why are you sleeping’ and ‘have we been overworking our human?’ and ‘aww. MC really does trust me that much.’
He adjusts the way you’re situated so you’re more comfortable as he finishes up the last of his work. When he’s done, he takes a moment to just observe. To appreciate your trust in him. Also, to congratulate himself again for his part in the creation of the exchange program, because it brought you into his life.
(He tries to ignore the stubborn twinge of nostalgic heartache he feels as well. You’re reminding him so much of Belphie, from back when his relationship with him was good. He’d never admit it, but he misses having his babiest brother fall asleep on him like this.)
Lucifer gathers up his papers, then picks you up, being careful not to jostle you too much. Let no one ever say he doesn’t take good care of his human. He carries you to your room to put you to bed. Clearly you need the extra sleep. Or… well, he tries to. You’re holding onto him pretty insistently.
He expects himself to feel irritated, but… no. He can’t help but feel a little smug, actually. It’s cute, you’re cute, you don’t seem to want him to leave you. So… fine. He’ll oblige. For a short break.
(An hour or two later, you’ll wake up to the smells and sounds of dinner being prepared. You’re… not under your blanket? No, you’re covered by Lucifer’s ridiculously long coat. It’s warm, soft. It smells like him. In this moment, it’s impossible to miss how loved you are.)
_______
Mammon:
The first time this happened (in your room, watching movies without any of his brothers for once), Mammon was stunned. He had frozen up, stuttered some nonsense to no one in particular, then quickly slapped his free hand over his mouth as he realized he would wake you if he didn’t immediately chill out.
Now though? You’ve been in his life for a while. He’s your oldest friend here. Those movie nights had become a habit, even though it remained rare to have one with no one else joining in. So this has happened a lot, and he’s gotten used to it. He doesn’t react so outwardly anymore, not unless one of his brothers show up to make fun of him.
If they try it, Mammon is rather aggressive about shushing them. At first, because he hated to be so obvious about how much he cares about you, but now that he’s a bit more used to it, it’s because he doesn’t want them to disturb you. He feels like he’s protecting you by keeping his brothers from waking you up. Sometimes, he’s the one who wakes you up by telling them to shut up just a bit too loudly, or silently gesturing for them to be quiet or go away a little too enthusiastically.
His brothers roast him even more for that. Poor thing.
Time and time again, you pass out on his shoulder. During a movie, mid relaxed hangouts with various groups of the brothers, in the rare times when hanging out solo with Mammon is a relaxing low-energy affair, while studying, during the lunch break at school, even in class sometimes. His heart warms, and he can’t help but smile at the familiar feel of you conked out on his shoulder again. He doesn’t even mind if you snore.
Mammon is usually such a loud, high energy person. Neither you nor him finds anything wrong with that of course, it’s one of many lovable things about him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t like being able to just chill with you sometimes though. It’s nice.
Eventually, he gets familiar enough with this that he’s willing to move you around to get more comfortable. With time, he learns exactly what ways he can move you without disturbing you. So most of the time when you fall asleep on him, you wake up in some other position. Sitting in his lap, lying down with a sleeping Mammon wrapped around you, being carried to another room, propped up against his side in your next class, being hugged like a teddy bear in his room, etc etc.
He never questions why you’re tired. He just lets you pass out on him. He wants you to be in the best possible condition, and he will happily take all the time with you he can get. He takes this to mean that you also want all the time with him that you can get, that you would rather stay with him than go to bed when you’re tired because you would rather not be separated from him. Just like how he feels about you. Why else would he be in your room as often as he is?
You trusting him enough to sleep on him all the time makes him feel like he’s being a good guardian demon, like he’s as precious to you as you are to him.
He’s a fan of all the free cuddles he gets out of this, too.
_______
Levi:
You’re in Levi’s room with him, set up very comfortably as you’re marathoning an anime together. You’ve been at it for hours though, you’re already a bit sleep deprived, and you’ve seen this one a few times already. You can’t stop yourself from nodding off. Your head drops onto his shoulder.
Levi freaks out.
“afgshrjdxssh—WH-!” He flails. You immediately snap awake again. “You—uhh-!” He shoves you away in a panic, then immediately changes his mind, pulling you back in, then freezes for a moment before letting go of you to flap his hands frantically. “Nonono stay—wait no, you don’t want to—I mean, you don’t have to—I mean, get o—uhh! Um! I mean! S-stay if you want, but I don’t care if you don’t want to—!”
You blink slowly at him a couple times. Trying to parse his contradictory sputtering. You’re tired, you’re not working at full brain power. You figure he means something along the lines of: ‘ooo I’m Levi, I have bad self esteem and I can’t believe you want to touch me, but I want you to, but I can’t say that because I cope with feeling unlovable by acting all tsundere because that way I feel less pathetic, love you though!’
You know. Standard Levi stuff. You love him so much—and you’d be very happy if he started therapy.
For now though, you just grab his arm and pull him closer to you again. You bury your face in his shoulder. This time, it’s unmistakably a deliberate move. Wordlessly telling him that you do in fact love him enough to want to touch him.
It’s like his body just took a screenshot! He keysmashes out loud.
Slowly, he calms down. He puts one hesitant arm around you. You don’t move. He can’t tell if you’re already asleep again or just pretending to be, but either way you seem to be comfortable.
Soon enough, he finds himself smiling like an absolute dork. This… is actually very effective reassurance. He feels all warm and fuzzy and loved. He likes holding you.
It’s reminding him of TSL fluff fics he’s read where absolutely nothing happens except Henry and the Lord of Shadows cuddle. A way for him to experience affection vicariously through a character he relates to and a character he loves, when he really wants hugs himself but can’t have any.
He squeezes you softly as his heart warms. He squishes his cheek against the side of your head.
“I love my Henry..!” Levi mumbles to himself, under his breath. He has no way of knowing if you heard that, which is why he said it out loud. It’ll be a while until he gets the nerve to say it when he knows you can hear.
_______
Satan:
He is HONOURED, he is OVERJOYED, he is MELTING, he is… very carefully remaining perfectly chill.
It’s the same type of happiness as when a cat decides to sit on you out of nowhere. He’s been chosen!
He is SO happy you trust him so much!
He had been reading, as usual. You had been sitting next to him, as usual. You had gotten tired, and without a moment of hesitation you had buried your face in his shoulder and fallen asleep.
He carefully contains all the joy this gives him, so he doesn’t disturb you. He wraps an arm around you, plants a soft kiss on your head, and goes right back to reading.
If you sleep fitfully, he’ll stroke your hair to soothe you.
When you wake up, he’ll ask if you had a nice nap. He won’t make any moves to make you get off him. If you choose to anyway, he won’t react outwardly, because he doesn’t want to discourage you falling asleep on him again. He wants this to happen lots more! So he’ll just smile at you and go back to his book.
But if you don’t choose to leave, he’ll shift you entirely into his lap to make you both more comfortable. He can hug you properly like this. If he’s sure you’ll be comfortable with it, he’ll kiss your forehead before going back to his book. He’s very happy to keep you there.
_______
Asmo:
Predictably, Asmo’s gonna take ALL the pictures of this!
A few in which he doesn’t look at the camera, as if they were candid shots. Some where he’s posing cutely, a couple where he’s kissing your head, a bunch of various angles of your sleeping face. What can he say, he thinks the way your cheek squishes against his collarbone is just precious.
A bit less predictably, he posts none on devilgram. No, these are just for him.
…maybe the best ones are for the group chat. He’s gotta show off his cute human to someone, it may as well be to his brothers. They’ll appreciate you properly. He’ll share after you’ve woken up, though. He doesn’t want anyone barging in to disturb you.
He’ll share the pictures with you as well if you ask, of course! What he will NOT do, however, is risk you deleting them! He’ll back them up first. He’ll store them in a hidden album if you’re shy about them, but he’s not deleting them!
Well, unless you’re genuinely uncomfortable. Then, okay fine. But please let him keep at least one? You’re so cute!
He’ll be more affectionate over the following days. Trying to be next to you all the time, inviting you to his room at every opportunity, pulling you to sit next to him. All because he hopes you’ll fall asleep on him again. Or just lean on him like that, and let him cuddle you. Please, he’d be SO happy!
_______
Beel:
Beel is so used to this behaviour. Belphie falls asleep on him all the time. He’d be the most chill about it.
As if it’s routine, he’ll secure you in your position with his arm, so you can’t fall and get hurt. He’ll rub your back and hum softly to you to help you relax if you don’t seem to be sleeping well. Beel is warm and soft and big and comfy, like the giant teddy bear he is at heart. He’s considerate and gentle. He’s always really sweet to you, and that doesn’t change one bit even when you’re unconscious.
When he inevitably gets too hungry to stay where he is, he’ll just take you to the kitchen with him. It’s no problem, he does this with Belphie all the time. It doesn’t matter how much you weigh, Beel can carry you easily. He thinks nothing of it.
He can cook one handed too if he needs to. He’s got practice—also because of Belphie. He’s chilling, he’s comfortable, there’s nothing unusual about this at all to him.
If the kitchen noises wake you up, he’ll apologize and share his food with you. He’ll tell you outright that he’s happy to let you use him as a pillow whenever you want.
(Also, he makes a mental note to drop you off with Belphie instead of bringing you along to the kitchen and risking waking you up again next time)
If it doesn’t wake you up, no problem! That’s what he expected. He just carries you around as he does what he needs to do around the house. He’ll put you to bed properly if he needs to go outside of course, but otherwise he’s bringing you with him.
When you wake up, he’ll put you down if you somehow indicate that’s what you want. If you don’t though, he just… won’t. He likes holding you. He’d do it so often if he thought you’d like him to.
_______
Belphie:
…Welp. The table has turned, hasn’t it.
People don’t fall asleep on Belphie while he’s awake too often! He’s not usually conscious to experience this! He likes it though. He thinks you’re being so cute.
9 times out of 10, Belphie will take this as his cue to cuddle up to you and join you in sleep. He can always be tempted into a nap. He’d make sure this the comfiest, nicest, most restful nap you’ve ever taken. He’d make sure you feel so safe and loved. You will NOT be disturbed on his watch.
On the rare tenth time, when Belphie isn’t tired, he might whine about being trapped. When one of his brothers points out that he can move you very easily, he glares at them. He maintains that it’s illegal to move when you’ve been chosen as someone’s pillow. When it’s pointed out that he’s perfectly capable of waking you if he really wants to get up, he looks affronted. He would NOT do that, he says. Do they think he’s completely heartless, he asks.
Well. He wouldn’t do that unless he’s feeling particularly bratty. He’d totally do it to any of his brothers… but he’s soft with you. He loves you. Be so for real, do you think he’d really ever pass up an opportunity to cuddle you? No way. He can go shopping later.
He won’t tell you that though. He’ll bitch about it to your face, complaining until you agree to go shopping with him next time, all the while refusing to let go of you.
He already was not hesitating to fall asleep on you, but he somehow gets more shameless and constant about it. Since you’re doing it too, it’s your thing now. You’d be a hypocrite to complain now.
Yeah, he couldn’t be happier about this. Please sleep on him all the time. Enable him even more! He’ll make sure you won’t regret it.
2K notes · View notes