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#Armed with a mouse and MS Paint I know no fear
cutesycadaver · 3 years
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Pellets
And now my creepypasta parody of Cupcakes (Mlp)
Content warning/violence, torture, Cannibalism, death, twists
After their plan had blown up in their faces, Brain was ready to collapse. He was lying on their sponge bed while Pinky was messing around on a lab computer. “Brain, come look!” He called, He begrudgingly got up from their bed, feeling quite sore. “What is it Pinky?” Brain grumbled “I found this video Reading Cupcakes (creepypasta) it’s about Pinkie Pie! Though cupcakes and haunted spaghetti sounds strange.” Brain looked at the screen, the video showed a cupcake with rainbow frosting “How do you know it’s about Ms. Pie?” Brain already knew Pinky was amazed by the horse he shared a name with but the video didn’t seem to directly state anything regarding her. “Oh, She was on the front but her mane was really straight and flat and her eyes were so small, poit.” Brain was growing suspicious “Pinky don’t you believe this seems...sketchy.” “Maybe but it’s Pinkie, It’s gotta be fun fun silly willy! Let’s watch it together!” Brain was hesitant “Alright” he mainly wanted to be there to turn off if (more like when) it turned sour.
At first it seemed like Pinkie Pie came seeking Rainbow Dash wanting some help making cupcakes, but took a gruesome turn. The problem being both mice were entranced and couldn’t get themselves to stop the video before it was too late. When the video finally ended there was a minute of absolutely nothing. They had wrapped themselves tightly together, both shaking. “B-Brain?” Pinky stuttered, shattering the deafening silence. “Yes, Pinky” Both mice sounded rather dreary “I-I’m s-scared” “I know you are.” Brain couldn’t get himself to admit he was too. “We should get to bed regardless.” The smaller mouse trying to regain his typical demeanor. He broke away from the embrace quickly, standing up. “O-ok, I mean ok, narf” Pinky attempted the same though his narf was far less enthusiastic than it typically was.
The two curled up next to each other, far closer than normal. “Pinkie isn’t really like that is she?” Pinky asked genuinely “Of course not, Pinky, it was just a story. You know Ms. Pie is just like you.” Brain rubbed his companion’s arm in an attempt to comfort him. “Just like me?” “Yes.” Suddenly the fatigue he felt earlier hit him like a truck. “We should sleep Pinky” he yawned “Ok Brain” he sheepishly grinned. Brain’s eyes slipped shut, his last sight was his still quite awake cagemate, seemingly content though.
Brain awoke with a start, though the cage was still quite dark. Now that he thought about it, was he in the cage? He seemed to be suspended upright in the air by ropes tied to his wrists and ankles. His heart began to race, What was happening? Where was he? “Pinky?” He called out, concern flooding his tone. “Oh, you’re awake sleepy head!” A familiar cockney accent giggled calmly “Pinky, you’re ok! Where are we? What’s happening?” Brain couldn’t see anything but Pinky was near, that was good “This is my workshop you silly goose. And your number came up, you get to join the party!” Workshop? Number? Party? Before Brain could voice any of his inquiries the lights flickered on. His eyes couldn’t believe it. There were tables with various painted mouse skulls as centerpieces. Balloons made of livers and kidneys and stomachs were all around . Streamers of intestines lined the top of the walls of the gritty basement Brain was in. “Welcome to the Party, isn’t it fun fun silly willy that I finally get to work with a friend!” Pinky appeared in front of him, donning a fur coat made of squares of, all too familiar, whites, grays and browns. “P-Pinky cease this foolishness at once.” Because that’s all it was, an elaborate prank, a stupid joke. “But I can’t Brain, it’s my job. And a job is a job is a job and I gotta do it, troz.” “What job?” “To turn you into food pellets, Brain.” He paused “Pinky this isn’t funny!” Brain shouted struggling against the restraints. “Well cause it’s not a joke Brain.” Pinky giggled. As Brain moved trying to free himself, he caught eye of a table with various tools typically used by the surgical scientists. It wasn’t a joke.
“Pinky, I-I’m sorry. I-I’ll be better, no more bad names, we’ll play the games that you like...every other night. We’re friends, Pinky, you can’t do this.” He pleaded, whatever would make him change his mind, anything “Brain, I already told you it’s my job” no no he needed more “Pinky I...I” he needed to force the words out, his life did depend on it “Pinky I love you! I always have, please, let me go, I’ll keep quiet, I’ll love you forever. No one will know I promise.” Pinky stood in shock for a moment, then lovingly looked at him “Oh, Brain!” He swooned, he came closer. Brain crashed their lips together in a hopeful deep kiss. “Zounds, Brain! I’ve never gotten a goodbye kiss before. Oh, Thank you it was so sweet. This batch is sure to be good.” Pinky pulled away seeming giddy but Brain’s hope died as his friend spoke. “Pinky...but…” “Aren’t you a smarty Brain, I told you it’s my job, zort.” His gleefully expression drooped. “I don’t make the rules, Brain. I really wish I did but your number came up and those are the rules.” Pinky shrugged “Pinky…” Brain started not entirely sure what he would say “Wait Brain, I just remembered something.” Pinky ran off to another part of the room. Brain’s immediate thought was to think to escape but then if he did what would he do, to hide from Pinky, with the knowledge of this, to cope, with his life.
Pinky was back as soon as he left, hiding his hands behind his back. “Brain guess who’s here to see you?” Pinky asked gleefully, Brain stayed in silent confusion raising an eyebrow “Hey Brain, it’s me Snowball, let’s ditch the dummy and take over the world together.” Pinky said in a poor impression of the hamster. He waved around a skull reminiscent of Brain’s own head. Brain gasped, he and Snowball were enemies but the knowledge he was dead made him sick. “I know he didn’t have a number like everyone else” blue eyes stared into the empty sockets “but when would I be able to try hamster meat again. I remember you liked them, said they were slightly more salty. Troz” Brain remembered the taste so vividly now in utter disgust. At the time the fact that the food pellets seemed to change two days after he defeated Snowball didn’t mean anything. Now it meant everything. This dawned the revelation that he was eating mice on the regular. Nausea took over his senses, Brain wanted to pass out.
Pinky studied the look on Brain’s face, then seemed to snap his attention to the table of tools. “Oh, Brain, We’re getting behind, we should get started.” Brain swallowed hard, he wanted to voice more pleas for escape but couldn’t force the words out. Pinky picked up a scalpel “I should get your fur patch first so it does get all icky and red, narf!” The tick that usually gave Brain mild irritation or silent bliss now sent puncturing fear and disbelief through his veins. Pinky went to his back and, with the scalpel, lightly cut a heart. When he got to be about the full size of his back, he placed the scalpel where he started, pressing further into the flesh. “Nyaaaaaa!” Brain writhed, the cold blade sliced through his back. Pinky traced the heart carefully, cleanly cutting the skin. Blood started to run down from the bottom of the heart. Brain instinctively struggled against the searing pain. “Brain, stop moving, I’ll mess up the cut.” Pinky complained, Brain forced his body to comply, with the hope Pinky might spare him with mild injuries if he behaved. Taking deep breaths to try to slow his heart, even though he knew it wouldn’t do much. Pinky had completely traced his work, setting the scalpel down, he placed a hand at the top of the heart and slowly peeled the flesh from his friend’s back. Brain stiffened, eyes widened, he let out a small squeaky cry, a single tear rolling slowly down his cheek. He forced his eyes closed to prevent more tears. Pinky eyed his work, satisfied with how it came out. He walked around to face Brain and show him the pelt. “Oh Brain it’s perfect! I made yours special, it’s heart shaped. I usually make them squares.” As Brain tried to open his eyes a wave of agony washed over him as the air pushed against the open wound.
Pinky went to place the pelt somewhere else in the room. Brain steadied his breaths trying to ignore the pain. He realized just how out of control of the situation he really was. He pondered the irony of his demise. It was almost funny. Almost. “ I’m back, zort” Pinky greeted, his usual cheery tone felt foreign in Brain’s ears. The lanky mouse went over to the tools, grabbing a simple kitchen knife. “Now for your ziggy-zaggy tail.” Pinky went behind Brain, wrapping a hand directly under the first bend. The contact would be sensual if not for what Brain knew what was coming. Pinky slammed the blade down, creating a red slit at the base of his friend’s tail. Brain writhed as the agony jolted through him. Pinky took a couple more strikes. Lingering on a third to slide the knife through the cut, as he wasn’t making progress. Brain let his tears flow freely, he quite literally had nothing left to lose. Pinky struck the tail again, it did nothing. “Guess I forget to sharpen it.” Pinky dropped the knife on the table. He picked up a hack-saw “Brain, why do they call it a hack-saw, it doesn’t hack, that’s what I was doing with the knife, it’s a saw poit.” Pinky giggled, Brain quietly sobbed. Pinky grabbed the tail again “Pinky?” Brain sniffled “Yes Brain” “I want to go home.” This was pathetic, he was pathetic and he wanted to be alone. “I feel like that sometimes too but I gotta finish a job zort.” He placed the saw in the cut “Oh, Like how we do with your plans, we never really finish but we get as far as we can before we fail.” Pinky pushed the saw, cutting through the flesh. “You know, Brain, I don’t usually keep the tails, but yours is just so special I had to!” Pinky giggled but soon the sound of grinding flesh and bone was the only sound that filled Brain’s ears. Pinky sawed through the appendage until it was only attached by a bit of flesh “Hey Brain, think fast poit!” He didn’t have time to register what Pinky said before his tail was ripped away from his body peeling a long strip of skin from his back with it. Brain couldn’t handle the pain slowly passing out as it surged through him.
Brain felt a small pinch before awareness filled his head. “It’s very rude to fall asleep when your friend is hanging out with you, you know.” Pinky reprimanded “I mean what I fell asleep in the middle of a plan, ‘Sorry Brain, you’re just sooooooooooo boring.’” Brain looked up about to make his own snarky remark before noticing Pinky was chewing on something, flashing a curious look. The lanky mouse took notice. “I needed to try some so I took a sample from your leg. Want some?” Pinky shoved a small piece of meat into the shorter mouse’s mouth. Brain spit out the chunk of his own flesh. He shuddered at the fact it tasted good. “You could have just said no, it’s not like you haven’t eaten the food pellets before.” Pinky said surprisingly curtly. “Ahhhhhh!” Brain finally felt the wound on his thigh, for where the “sample” had been taken. He started to sob as he fully remembered the earlier events. Pinky started to laugh “You really should have seen this coming Brain, it says I’m insane in the intro.” Brain’s expression twisted into a scowl. “Oh you’re cute when you’re angry but for falling asleep, I’ve got a surprise.” Pinky walked away leaving Brain very confused.
He came back with a nail gun. “Pinky...what are you doing?” Brain said, faking his sternness and attempting to swallow his fear. “You’ll see!” Pinky giggled, turning on the power tool. He knelt down to be eye level with Brain feet. He struggled against the restraints once again. “Pinky!” He reprimanded, he was ignored,  the nail gun pressed against his left foot. Brain’s heart sped up, his breath hitched, his fear became known once more. “Please...don’t…” he whimpered weakly, he was ignored again, a nail shot through his foot. “Ahhhhhhhhhh!” The immediate pain of the puncture registered first but it was soon realized that the nail was burning the flesh surrounding it. He was using heated nails. Boiling blood ran off his foot and onto the rope that held it in place. Pinky went to the other foot as Brain writhed. The second nail went in, cauterizing the wound it formed. Fresh tears spilled fast and freely as another scream could be heard, Pinky giggled. He walked away, probably to go get something. Brain heard Pinky’s sadistic laughs, wondering if this really was the adorable goofball he fell in love with.
Pinky walked back towards him, heading towards something behind his tool table, a bundle of wires in hand. Brain couldn’t quite see what he was doing but Pinky appeared to be attaching the wires to something. He walked back in front of him, holding the ends of two wires. “Oh Brain I think you’ll find this next one quite shocking, narf!” he laughed “Pinky please, I’m sorry you...you don’t have to do this.” He pleaded softly, the nails still deliriously painful “You shouldn’t have been such a sleepy head Brain.” Pinky’s tone was casual “Don’t you bop me when I do something stupid?” “I-I thought you liked the bops?” “Oh I do Brain! They feel funny and make me get all…gooshy!” Pinky giggled, his eyes going half lidded and a bit of drool dripping from his mouth. “Don’t you love me, Pinky?” The mouse in question blinked out of his lovesicktrance “Well of course Brain, you’re my best friend!” Pinky hugged him, making all his wounds sting, including the one in his heart “Than why…” “Because! It’s! My! Job! And these are the rules. I know you don’t always get it when I say silly things but this isn’t silly. You tell me I gotta do my job and do it right all the time!” Pinky seemed to grow very angry on a dime, tying the wires to the nails “If you really loved me you wouldn’t do this!” Brain shouted, more pain than actual anger. Pinky walked over to where he before “You need to calm down Brain this might help.” A mischievous gleam in his eyes, he pulled a lever. Suddenly a strong electrical current coursed through Brain’s entire body. His muscles tensed, the pain unbearable and unchanging, the screaming uncontrollable and straining. Brain finally felt his body lost consciousness even though he tried to force himself through theare pain.
Another needle pinch in his abdomen before the awareness and trepidation came flooding back. “I’M SORRY! Pinky, I’m sorry.” Tears filled his eyes, wishing for mercy “Hush, It’s time for the harvest, this part’s my favorite, narf!” Pinky took a scalpel and pressed it deep into Brain’s sternum. The blood trailing down either side of his chest. He pulled the scalpel down his stomach. Pinky giggled at Brain’s screams. Peeling open the flesh to reveal the organs underneath. “Now to separate the good stuff from the bad stuff this is so fun fun silly willy! Like your plans, oh your plans. I’m sorry Brain you never got your world, didn’t you?” The sentiment sounded sincere yet demeaning “Pinky…” teary eyes looked into a sea of horrible sadistic beauty “Pinky you are my world.” Brain said in true defeat. He supposed it made sense that his world would end him. “Oh Brain, you stole my heart.” Pinky looked at his surgical work. He recklessly shoved his arm into his lover's ribs and pulled the aforementioned organ from Brain’s writhing body. “Now I stole yours ha ha ha narf!” With one last breath Brain’s eyes slipped shut.
Brain awoke a start, in bed, he was in bed. Brain was back in the cage, it was morning. He looked beside him, Pinky wasn’t there. “Pinky? PINKY!” panic filled his voice. “You’re awake! Brain? Are you ok?” “Y-you strapped me to a table! I-in a basement with dead mice everywhere! A-and you turned me into food pellets!” He spoke frantically “Brain that’s Rocket to Insanity silly.” “Huh?” “Rocket to Insanity, that’s the one where Rainbow Dash dreamed up Cupcakes and then goes to Pinkie and stabby-stabs her. Wait, you’re
not gonna stab me are you, Brain?” The smaller mouse looked at his friend in relief then processed his question. Without another moment his lips were locked with Pinky’s. “So that’s a no?” “I would never stab you, Pinky.” He stated gently “And you’re an idiot for ever thinking I would.” Brain quipped “There’s my Brain!” Pinky hugged him “I love you Pinky.” If that dream made anything clear it’s that those words needed to be said. “Really Brain?” Blue eyes gleamed hopeful “Yes, Pinky, really.” Pinky pressed their lips together. “I love you too.”
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rainythefox · 4 years
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Nightfall (Ch.13)
Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU/Canon Divergence. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her  brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of  cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling  upon dark secrets. She can’t call the law; Wesker is the law, and she  can’t tell Chris. She is trapped…Claire/Wesker & Slight  Chris/Jill. Rated M for eventual smut, language, violence, adult content.
AO3 Link
Chapter 13: I Know You
(Warning: This chapter contains Smut!)
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Claire realized she had stared down the barrel of a gun more times in this past week than she did in her entire life. She didn't really appreciate that and gave Lowery an insulted glare as he came a bit closer. Despite her perilous situation, her Redfield temper got the best of her.
"You always point a gun at students? Not exactly welcoming."
"Not typically," Lowery answered warily. "But then again, you aren't a RCU student, are you? And it never was your intention tonight, was it?"
It seemed as though William's brush off of this paranoid, quiet professor of little relevance was poorly advised. What Claire had forgotten was that William was in a position where everyone was inferior and of no threat to him, not only because of his infamy and prowess, but apparently from who he also had as a guard dog.
Either way, Claire now had a serious problem on her hands. And Wesker wasn't on the other side for help.
"I have no idea what the hell you're talking about," Claire replied coolly.
"Really? So, you don't have my missing file from the lab? The one my business partner said you dropped right in front of him?" Lowery inquired skeptically. "It's a good thing he showed up, otherwise I don't think I would've been able to catch up with you."
Claire kept calm, her eyes flicking back and forth from his steely face to the gun trained at her chest. All she had on her was her knife. She couldn't slip up now, otherwise she would be arriving back home in a body bag. "You must have me mistaken for someone else."
"Oh, it's you. I was tipped off that someone would try to steal our plans tonight. I had no idea it would be someone like you though. Hand them over or I will shoot you."
"Are you crazy? Shooting someone over some documents?"
He stepped closer, getting impatient. "I have no problem killing for them."
Claire couldn't hand it over. She had to protect Chris. The file was a requirement needed for her freedom. Besides, she was more afraid of Wesker than she was of this incompetent prick.
The file was hidden in her coat under her arm. Claire slightly raised her hands, even away from the knife in her pocket, mind plotting. "Come search me yourself. I don't have it!"
Lowery closed the short distance between them, guarded but also anxious to get this over with. As soon as he got close enough, Claire snatched the arm with the gun and pushed it away from her, kicking him hard in the groin and then slamming him into the bus behind her. He yelped in surprise, but in her attempt to disarm him, he recovered faster than she thought he would. He shoved her, attempting to grab her and they both slipped in the snow and tumbled to the ground. The file flew from the safety of her parka, landing in the snow just beside them.
The middle-aged professor pinned Claire face down, icy snow burning her face as she inhaled some up her nose.
"You stupid bitch, who sent you? Who're you working for?!"
Claire was able to pull out her knife. She blindly stabbed it up and behind her. The blade went deep in somewhere, his thigh, she guessed. He screamed in pain, rolling off and Claire sprang to freedom. Her initial instinct was to stomp his face in, but that gun came up to her face as he bled in the snow. Time seemed to slow as he pulled the trigger. She was done for.
Lowery's hand popped like a balloon, barely within the blink of an eye, bright and red. He cried out in shock and agony again, the gun flinging from his hand, blood spraying across the snow like spilled paint. Claire immediately snatched up the weapon and aimed it right back at him, not really understanding what had happened but not taking any chances. That's when she noticed the sleek, short dagger sticking out from his hand, the tip of the blade having gone completely through his palm.
Before it could completely register, a tall, muscular form stepped out of the shadows from between the buses and stalked over to the injured professor. Claire directed the gun at the stranger, but soon recognized the silver-haired man that Wesker had talked to beneath the streets of Raccoon City. Nikolai Zinoviev.
Despite the situation, the Russian mercenary had a playful grin on his scruffy face. "Looks like you picked fight with wrong girl, comrade! She's a feisty one, eh?"
Lowery hissed and groaned between gnashed teeth, glaring up at the snickering newcomer. "Nikolai? What the hell? You tipped Aaron and me off about her, why are you doing this?"
"Oh, sorry, friend. Our agreement expired because my new employer bought out yours and doubled price for his own. How is it you Americans say? Ah, right…money talks."
His hands may have been up in submission, but there was no mistaking the spite on Lowery's face. "I'll double his price…right now. Just give me my file and give me the girl."
"Just try it," Claire warned, pointing Lowery's own gun at him.
Nikolai chuckled. "She's just not that into you, comrade. Besides, she is under strict protection of my employer. If she gets just a scratch, it's my head. You understand, yes?"
Holding his bleeding hand, the college professor's defiant stare cracked, replaced with fear. "You gonna kill me?"
The younger Redfield did not like the sleazy grin on the silver-haired Russian's face. She refused to give Lowery what he wanted, but she didn't think he deserved to die. However, she got a more concerning feeling in her gut by Nikolai's smug look and shallow shrug. "Welllllll, that's where it gets interesting. I was supposed to kill anyone that got wind of our scheme here. But that little detail on agreement was outbid by his partner, without my employer's knowledge, of course! He wishes to speak with you, Dr. Lowery. You have time to chat, hmm friend?"
"W-Who?"
"You will know when we get there. Stay positive! Perhaps you two can make deal. Then we can put whole thing behind us!"
Nikolai stepped over to Lowery, holding out his hand, offering to help the wounded man to his feet. There was an underlying threat to his tone that Lowery had no choice but to come along. Claire felt his powerlessness as he glanced around, apprehensive. He raised his uninjured hand to take Nikolai's, but in the blink of an eye, the mercenary grabbed the professor and knocked him out cold.
"What the hell?!" Claire spat.
Nikolai pulled the knife from Lowery's hand and bandaged him up. He wiped the knife on his pants and inserted it into a cylindrical tube. It clicked in Claire's mind that the knife had been shot out of that when it struck Lowery. A ballistic knife. The Russian mercenary pocketed his weapon and started dragging the younger man through the snow. Claire watched, aghast, and then stomped after him.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
"The white SUV just over there," Nikolai nodded with his head. "That is our ride."
"You are my ride?"
"Ms. Wong received new orders. So now you and I get to spend some quality time together, printsessa."
She knew well enough that whatever he had called her was some kind of pet name and that rolled off her skin like cold sludge. "Fuck that. I'll walk."
He wasn't fazed by her attitude, in fact, she was sure he was fed by it. That same sleazy grin appeared as he seemed to drag the man with little effort, way stronger than he looked. "In this weather? You catch cold easily. Besides, it is my responsibility to return you to Wesker."
"Sounds like a personal problem."
Nikolai snorted as he loaded the unconscious professor into the backseat of the vehicle . "Does it? You know what else is personal? Your brother, Chris, yeah?"
Claire froze, having only taken three defiant steps away from this situation once Nikolai reached the SUV. She turned around, glaring. She aimed Lowery's gun at him, angry, protective, cornered.
"What do you know about my brother?"
He raised his hands in mock surrender, the same wily grin still in place, careful steps moving towards her and away from the SUV where Lowery was now locked away. "Oh, little of everything, I suppose. Address, schedule, hobbies..."
There was an underlying threat there. Her gut clenched, rolled like a dying animal. And all Claire could come to understand was that this dangerous mercenary knew this information with the sole purpose of killing her big brother.
In a split second the scarred mercenary disarmed her, flipping the gun around on her. Claire froze, breath hitching, and Nikolai playfully chortled.
"Ohhhh, too slow, little Claire!"
He was a complete blur, she could barely register what just happened. This man was dangerous. Very dangerous.
She kept his gaze with the dirtiest look she could muster, hiding her worry, exposing her anger. After all, if Nikolai spoke the truth about Wesker having her under his protection, what was there to fear? Especially of him?
"You're going to kill my brother?" Claire hissed.
"Only if you do not do as you're told. It's simply collateral, printsessa."
"Wesker fucking hired you to do this?"
Nikolai chuckled. "You're surprised? Comrade Wesker doesn't get his hands dirty unless he has to. Why would he when he has pawns or even paid professionals like myself?"
Claire wasn't surprised. But she was still livid. Feeding off of her anger, Nikolai continued to spite her.
"Don't worry, I'm only having little fun." He slipped the gun inside his coat and opened the front passenger door of the SUV for her. "Come along, printsessa. I take you back to where you belong. It is in my best interest that I return you in perfect condition."
Offended, she snapped, "I belong at home with my brother!"
Nikolai half-shrugged. God, she wanted to shoot that smug grin off his face. "That is not what comrade Wesker thinks."
"I don't give a damn what he thinks!"
The younger Redfield didn't have much of a choice. If she didn't go with Nikolai, he would kill her brother under orders from Wesker. But going with him also meant going into the open arms of the enemy.
Biting her tongue, fists clenched, she got inside the vehicle and her pompous companion closed the door and went around and got in the driver's seat. Claire looked back at the unconscious Lowery. Nikolai had tied his arms to the backseat in case he woke up.
"You are in interesting position," Nikolai stated after driving for a bit. "Both blessing and curse to have Wesker's protection. But even more interesting is how obsessed he seems with you."
"I'm just trying to get back to my normal life, whatever it takes."
Nikolai's hollow laugh filled the cab. "He's not going to let you go...not by what I saw."
Claire didn't say anything, both mad and upset that he was probably right. She stared out the window. Raccoon City life went on, even after dark. Busy, bustling, oblivious, day and night.
"He had girl like you awhile back...five, six years ago. Pretty little thing, not much older than you, red hair too. Emigrated here working for Umbrella, eastern Europe, I think."
"What happened to her?" Claire asked, suddenly interested.
Nikolai shrugged apathetically. "No one knows for sure. Most rumors revolve around her fleeing for some reason. Going into hiding. Personally, I think Wesker just got bored of her and ran her off. I guess we'll never really know."
Claire grew quiet, although more questions burned within her about this mysterious woman. Maybe it was best to leave well enough alone; but it did make her more curious about Wesker and the seemingly endless secrets he had. Just a while ago, she would have thought it impossible that Wesker would care about anyone but himself.
Her inner pondering got her the mercenary's sarcastic quip in return. "Oh, don't worry, Claire! She's long gone. Wesker has his eyes on you and you alone. He's all yours! Ahh, you don't know how many females would kill to be in your place right now."
Nikolai's creepy chortle unsettled her. She focused on the passing scenery outside her window. But perhaps it wasn't the mercenary's vile laugh that really unsettled her, but the way her pulse rocketed in tune with an excited warmth in her groin...
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Claire began to wonder how they would get the unconscious Lowery out of the car and down into NEST when Nikolai parked the SUV in the alleyway behind an Umbrella pharmacy. Her inner questions were soon answered when a few men in black mercenary suits came outside. Nikolai barked orders at them in Russian as they yanked the professor out without an ounce of sympathy.
She had a real bad feeling when Nikolai motioned her to follow them. The pharmacy was closed, dark, but they went into the back where a security door was. A pharmacist was there waiting, dressed in her appropriate attire and swiped a keycard to allow them entry. She didn't look like she was being coerced or intimidated. In fact, she looked more annoyed than anything, as though letting these thugs through her business put a huge damper on her beauty sleep.
By the time they took a large elevator down into the sewers, Lowery started coming to. But the two hefty men carrying him under the arm pits would have no problem keeping him under control. They followed along the marked passageways that would take them to NEST.
"Oh God, no! Please, no!" Lowery cried, recognizing their surroundings. He fought with the men who carried him, pleaded even. "Just kill me now! Don't hand me over to that devil!"
But his cries went ignored. Claire felt bad for the man, even after he had tried to kill her. She didn't blame him for his futile fighting and begging. Wesker would surely condemn this man to a horrible death and write it off as some sort of accident, never to be questioned.
Even as they trekked through the clean, bright hallways of NEST, Lowery's cries for help and mercy went unanswered. Some Umbrella workers simply turned a blind eye while others paused to enjoy watching the man's misfortune.
They stopped at an intersection of hallways. Although Lowery had exhausted himself struggling with his captors, he still quietly sobbed for his life. He stared puffy-eyed at Claire and it hurt her to the bone. She was responsible for his fate. If only he hadn't followed her. If only he had let her go.
"You don't know who you're working for," he said to her. "He's a monster! The absolute worst!'
"I'm so sorry. I didn't want any of this to happen," Claire replied, feeling guilty. She wasn't sure he would believe her. "Wesker blackmailed me. I'm just trying to protect my brother."
Lowery's face scrunched up, and strangely he laughed. A snorty, "fuck-it-all" laugh that was more creepy than anything. "I wasn't talking about Wesker."
The college student was caught off guard, just assuming the professor was talking about her own captor. But it didn't take her long to realize who he was really talking about.
"Consider yourself lucky." His last words were muttered, bitter.
Nikolai nodded to his men, and they started dragging him off down one long, blindingly white hallway. Lowery had given up fighting, his eyes haunted, searing into hers as he was hauled off, probably never to be seen again.
"Come along, printsessa. Wesker awaits your return."
Claire hesitated, perturbed, telling herself that Lowery was a bad man and deserved what he got, and that she had to do what she did to save Chris. She joined Nikolai as they took a different route, her steps without as much pep as his, thinking.
"Ah, cheer up, Claire! You looked out for most important person. Yourself! This saves precious brother in end!"
She would've been insulted by his words if she hadn't been so damn confused on why Lowery was more afraid of William than he was of Wesker.
"What is William going to do to that man? Why was he more afraid of him than Wesker?"
Nikolai half-glanced at her, the corners of his lips tugging upward. "They're two different monsters, printsessa. There are fates worse than death if you haven't figured that out already."
Annette had said those very same words to her before. And although she had understood the concept, fearing that her blackmailing and enslavement to Wesker would go on forever, there was something about the way that Nikolai had said it that disturbed her on a deeper level.
"Who do you think has more empathy?"
Claire looked at him, confused. "William. Obviously."
Nikolai chuckled. "Then you do not know Birkin very well!" When she stayed quiet, he continued. "Wesker has more empathy, even if it's indirect most of time."
Claire scoffed at that. "Yeah, right."
"It's true! Take Dr. Lowery for example. Comrade Wesker would've just saved us all the trouble and put a bullet between his eyes. But Birkin has to have something more...exciting. Lowery would've preferred that bullet. Therefore, in such instance, Wesker has more empathy. And, well, there's you, isn't there? Most people would've died in your situation, but Wesker spared you...even if it was for nefarious motives. And the fact that he has given you his protection is quite telling!"
"What is William going to do?"
Nikolai shrugged. "Not for me to say. Unless, of course, you wish to purchase such secrets from me."
She glared at the greedy son of a bitch. "Not in your life."
Again, the Russian mercenary was amused and not at all insulted. "As you wish. But here is free advice, printsessa. Take it or leave it. The thing about Wesker and Birkin is that they do not have the capacity to care for anyone outside of their private circle. Wesker only cares for Birkin and his unbearingly cute daughter - besides himself, of course. And that care doesn't even extend to his own best friend's wife. But...there are some pretty convincing rumors that he cared about the last redhead that came before you. Birkin rarely cares for anyone outside his family and Wesker. Though from what I heard he's fond of you for some reason!"
Claire rolled her eyes, but unfortunately, he wasn't finished.
"Mark my words, printsessa. If one falls, the other will. Especially Birkin. Wesker will probably recover, perhaps be driven more by his hatred without Birkin to keep it at bay. But Birkin...he'll absolutely lose it. I give him two weeks before he's falling apart, showing the monster he really is, and I wouldn't doubt he'll eat his own family alive if that happens."
"You make it sound like that's going to happen soon."
"Nah...just eventually. Everybody makes mistakes, even comrade Wesker. One day they may have to reap what they have sown. And if comrade Sergei gets his wish, we will see these two partners in crime turn on each other like dogs when push comes to shove, common goals be damned. Ultimately, they're only out for themselves. Their symbiosis will come to an end one day, that's inevitable."
A large laboratory-like room came upon their left, long windows allowing Claire and Nikolai to peer inside as they made their way to the automatic door further down. Claire noticed right away that the Birkins were bickering over something near a large computer screen. Wesker was on the opposite side of the room on the phone, fingers on his other ear as if to tune his coworkers out. He was facing the window and so noticed them right away. Claire could tell by how his naked eyes caught them and he smirked.
But a surprise addition she wasn't expecting was Sherry. The little girl held up a piece of paper, trying to get her parents' attention. She went unnoticed…
When the automatic door slid open to let Claire and Nikolai into the room, Sherry was the only Birkin to notice. She looked over her shoulder with startled eyes. She barely looked at them, Claire didn't even have time to wave at her, before she spun and raced across the room. And just like the younger Redfield saw before, the child took refuge behind the monster that had Claire by a tight leash.
The first thing Claire thought was that it was sad that a young girl felt she had to retreat across a large room to take cover behind her godfather when she had been right beside her parents…Worst yet, her parents continued on, unaffected that their child ditched them to hide behind someone else and barely noticed the arrival of company.
Wesker held up a finger to tell them he would be with them momentarily. Sherry peeked her head out from behind him and instantly brightened when she recognized Claire. She came out of her "safe zone" and over to Claire, careful to avoid getting near Nikolai or looking at him.
"Hi, Claire!"
Claire greeted her with a bright, positive smile. "Hello, Sherry!"
The young girl barely allowed her to finish before hugging her tightly around the waist. Taken aback at first, the college student returned the hug and rubbed Sherry's head.
"You look so cute today! I love that outfit."
Sherry grinned. "Thanks. Look what I drew!" And held up the same paper she had presented to her parents.
Claire was expecting a random doodle kids Sherry's age often produced, with their colorful imagination. She gasped at what she was shown. It was really good. Like really good. Probably better than Claire could ever draw. It was a cat dozing on a tree limb, all sketched in pencil and shaded.
"Wow, Sherry! This is really good!"
"You think?" Birkin's little girl wondered with a blush, nervously rocking back and forth on her heels.
"Seriously, I need to take some pointers from you. Did you have a picture to look at or something?"
Sherry shook her head. "No, just saw a cat doing that on my way to school this morning and drew it from memory."
This girl had a photogenic memory apparently. That didn't surprise Claire, the young girl already acted like she was quite intelligent for her age. She looked and acted like her father a lot, and must have gotten both of her parents' gifted smarts.
"That's incredible, Sherry. I love it."
Sherry blushed even deeper, but didn't have time to say anything before Nikolai butted in shamelessly, bending down, hands on his knees to get to her level, his toothy grin making the young girl nervous.
"Ah, aren't you a clever and talented little devushka! Taking right after mama and papa! Such a bright future ahead of you!"
Claire glared at the asshole and was about to give him a piece of her mind, protecting Sherry, when a dark, tall figure stepped directly in between Nikolai and Sherry. Sherry instantly looked relieved, and clinged to her familiar wall. Nikolai slowly stood up straight, unfazed by the glare that would have incinerated most men.
Wesker didn't even have to say anything. Nikolai put up his hands in fake submission, and Claire was sure this man wasn't afraid of anything since he didn't even bat an eye to the scariest person in the room.
"Oh, forgive me, comrade. I have overstepped boundaries. I meant no harm."
"Yes, you did, you fucking asshole," Claire snapped.
Nikolai chuckled, but kept his attention on his employer. "Your lyubovnik is bold. I can see why you like her so much, comrade. Should've seen how she handled 'ol Lowery when he attacked her."
The Birkins had stopped bickering and came over to get in on the conversation at hand. And even with them being nearby, Sherry remained behind her "uncle".
Wesker's lip barely curled at Nikolai's gibe. "And where is Dr. Lowery now? Was he...taken care of?"
Claire was sure he said that in such a way just for the sake of Sherry, and that surprised her.
"Forgive me, but your...request was outbid by best friend."
Wesker glared William's way, but the eccentric researcher just fist pumped like an excited kid. "Yes!"
Nikolai chuckled. "After all, no one knows the value of human life quite like Dr. Birkin."
"Of course they don't! I mean I am a doctor, after all!" William snorted and ruffled Sherry's hair, getting her to giggle. "Relax, Al! I'll take good care of our guest! Thanks, Nikky!"
"I'm sure you will," Wesker stated as William left the laboratory, on a mission. Under William's delighted smile and hums as he left, Claire fleetingly noticed tiny traces of something dark, something ruthless. And she understood Lowery would never be seen again.
Wesker turned to Nikolai and Annette after his partner had gone. "Nikolai, I'll escort you out. We have much to discuss. Anne, dear, please keep Miss Redfield comfortable until I return."
Annette sighed. "What am I now, your babysitter? Come on, Albert...I have enough to do as it is, I'm behind schedule even without having to take care of your…," She gave Claire an unreadable glance, "...guest."
Sherry's mother turned and went back to her project at one corner of the room, where she and William had been bickering earlier, busying herself with whatever was displayed on the computer's monitor. Claire glared at her back. This woman was something else! When first meeting with Claire she seemed curious, albeit a little skeptical, and gave Claire advice on Wesker. Now this. Then again, Annette was always absorbed in her work to barely be concerned with her own child.
"Come along, comrade," Wesker mocked, motioning for the Russian mercenary to follow him.
But before he left, Nikolai had one last piece of advice to give Claire. "Remember printsessa...If you are going to dwell among wolves...you should howl like one."
He winked at her and left with that eerie grin on his face. Once it was just Claire, Sherry, and Annette, the tension in the room nearly dissipated completely. Sherry snatched Claire's hand and tried dragging her away from the exit.
"I don't see that man too often, but he's scary. C'mon, let's go sit in the break room, I have more drawings to show you!"
The college student hesitated at first, still confused over Nikolai's final advice. She shook it from her thoughts and allowed the young girl to guide her past her mother and into the little break room attached to the laboratory.
"Momma, me and Claire are gonna go draw in the break room, you should join us!"
"That's nice, sweetie," Annette mumbled while looking into a microscope.
Claire tightened the grip around Sherry's hand and stopped, glaring at Annette, but Sherry tugged on her. "It's okay, she's busy. Come on!"
It took all of her willpower to bite her tongue, only doing so because of Sherry. They went to the table and sat down. Sherry showed off her drawings in a sketchbook that was falling apart. Nearly all the pages were filled with her artwork, many loose and sticking out all over the place. The girl exuberantly showed off her illustrations. Claire was just as excited to see them all, and found joy that the young Birkin was out of her shell now.
"They're all so good. Sherry, you should become a professional artist when you grow up!"
Sherry beamed. "Really? Daddy says I'm gonna be a doctor like him some day. I want to do both. I want to help people like they do."
Claire smiled, hiding the worry from such a statement. "You are so smart and talented, you can do whatever you want to. I know it."
"Thank you, Claire!" The girl blushed with a sweet smile. Claire couldn't believe such a cute, sweet little girl could come from such horrible parents that let a psychopath raise her half the time. "I wish my parents showed as much interest in me as you. I mean, they do, just...I don't know. Sometimes they're just so absorbed in their work, that's all they know." Sherry frowned. "...or care about."
"Well, they aren't focusing on what's important then. I hope one day that they do."
Sherry nervously played with the crinkled corner of one of her artworks. "What are your parents like, Claire?"
The pain that ripped through her heart wasn't expected. Claire took a deep breath and smiled at the girl. "Well, I lost them when I was around your age. But...I remember my mom being...fearless. She wasn't afraid of anything, it seemed. She loved motorcycles. I got my love of motorcycles from her. My dad...he was patient and so much fun. He played guitar. He was teaching me before…"
Sherry was quiet for a long moment, and she grabbed Claire's hand and squeezed. "What...happened to them?"
"Car accident. It's weird...they were both special forces in the Air Force. Seemed invincible to me as a kid. And they were gone in a split second...just like that."
"Oh no! That's terrible! Were you all alone?"
"No...no. I have an older brother. He's a cop...he works with Wesker. He raised me with the help from some old family friends. We lost everything from our old home though."
"What, why? So you don't have anything from your parents?"
"My uncle...distant uncle, my mom's brother. He lives in Stone Ville. He got the house and all the belongings because my brother wasn't an adult at the time. And he never liked our father or us very much. So he took it away from us. Blamed our father for the accident."
Sherry's hands clamped over her mouth and nose in an instant, shocked by the heartlessness of Claire's uncle. "That's awful!" she mumbled from behind dainty fingers.
Claire half-shrugged, swallowing the resentment she still had for that family member. "Chris and I have come to terms with it. Most of it meant nothing to us anyway. He sold the house and most of the stuff a long time ago, but he keeps a few important things in storage. Some things we hope to get one day."
Sherry bit her lip. "Like what?"
"Pictures, mostly. My dad's guitar. My brother really wants their military medals. Me...there's just one picture I really want. It's my parents on my mom's red motorcycle, dressed in their military attire, before they had us. I remember adoring it as a kid. They looked like superheroes to me. But…"
"But what?"
Claire swallowed, ignoring the burn in her eyes. "I'm afraid I'm gonna forget what they look like one day. That picture gets more and more fuzzy as the years go by."
Sherry gasped and looked horrified, sad for her, staring up at her with big blue eyes. Claire cleared her throat, putting on a big smile. She got so caught up in her reminiscing that she made the girl just as sad she was. "Sorry. Hey, don't worry about it! It will all work out in the end. I know it!"
Sherry leaned in and hugged her close. "I hope so! Or else we can send Nikolai to scare him," the blond girl joked slyly, face crushed against her.
That tickled a snorted laugh out of the young Redfield. "Yeah, he better not tempt me! One more thing though...could you keep this between us?"
The last thing she needed was something else for Wesker to have over her head.
She pulled back with a small smile. "I promise! I sure would like to meet your brother one day. He must be strong and brave if he works with Uncle Albert!"
Claire wished she could understand the closeness she felt to this little girl after knowing her for such a short period. Maybe a little sister she never had, or a daughter perhaps that Claire would want one day.
"He is. He's the best."
Light knocking startled them both, and Claire's heart spun when she saw Wesker in the doorway of the breakroom. There was no door separating the rooms, and so she could only hope he hadn't been there long and overheard their conversation.
"Hi, Uncle Albert! Claire just told me that her brother works with you!"
The STARS Captain moved inside, a small smirk forming. He no longer sported the lab coat from earlier, but was still dressed exquisitely. "Yes, he does. He's one of my best men, actually."
"Oh, neat, are you guys friends?!"
"Best of friends," Wesker chuckled, although his ambiguous tone and smile was directed towards Claire.
"Even more than Daddy?" Sherry gasped.
Wesker's smile towards Sherry was a lot less menacing and he held out his arm. "Of course not, darling."
Sherry took his arm and squeaked in delight as he picked her up effortlessly out of the chair and let her dangle for a moment like a doll before setting her down on her feet.
"I see you were providing Claire with some pleasant company. Thank you, Sherry."
Wesker offered his hand with a sly smile, but Claire refused it. She stood up on her own with a defiant look that only made her captor's smirk grow.
"Of course, Uncle Albert! I just love having Claire come by to visit. Can't you bring her around more often? Please, pretty please?!"
"I'm sure we could work on that."
"Yay!" Sherry exclaimed, hugging Claire real quick before going over to the table to gather up her art supplies and sketchbook.
"Are you ready, dear heart?"
Claire hated that he said that pet name right in front of Sherry. As if she needed any more reasons to fantasize about them hooking up. "Ready for what?"
"We're leaving."
"W-Where?" she inwardly panicked.
"My personal quarters here in the facility. We have much to discuss."
Somewhere behind them, Sherry giggled into her hand and quickly hid her face behind her sketchbook to avoid being reprimanded for butting into their business. Wesker let it slide - for now.
Claire shook her head. "No, we can do that tomorrow. I have to get home to Chris. He'll be worried."
"He'll be fine," Wesker countered. "He's at the bar with friends, most notably Jill, which means he won't be home until late, or until nature takes its course between them. We wouldn't want to disrupt that now, would we?" He leered gleefully at her.
She glared at him, ignoring his comment about the possibility of any...lewd content...between her brother and Jill, even if she was very aware of the attraction between the two. But now was not the time nor place to be concerned over that.
"The sooner we get our "business" out of the way, the sooner you can go home."
It wasn't like she had a choice, no matter how much she fought him. Claire reluctantly agreed, for the sake of doing this quickly and getting it over with. But deep down, some strange, new instinct had awoken. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. She was certain going to Wesker's quarters with him alone would prove to be dangerous, bad, very bad. But this new instinct was okay with that, and it made her nerves tingle like she was high on drugs.
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Wesker's private quarters within the NEST facility looked like a richy hotel room, only without a grand view of a beach or cityscape. The lights automatically kicked on when they entered. It was either hardly used or strictly kept up by a housekeeper. Immaculate. Expensive. There was a lounge area with leather sofas and a cherry wood table between them. The kitchen had expensive countertops and appliances, and even a bar. And from where she stood, Claire could see the open door that led into a large, dark bedroom.
"You should see William's quarters," Wesker stated after noticing her admiring the room. "It's nicer than his actual house. But he and Anne do practically live down here."
He took her parka from her and hung it up near the door. "Drink?" he offered, heading towards the bar. "I know I need one."
"Yeah," she mumbled, distracted, and then realized what she agreed to and glared at his back. "Only if I watch you pour it!"
"So suspicious," Wesker chuckled as he retrieved a couple of glasses and pulled out a bottle of wine from a fancy wine rack, checking the bottle over before pouring. "Trust me, if I do end up having to eliminate you, it will be a little more...exciting."
"Gee, thanks. That's totally increasing my trust in you."
He huffed a laugh and held out the glass full of a dark red liquid to her, clearly not fazed by her sarcastic comment in the least. Claire slowly took it from him and they sat down across from one another on the sofas. She gave in fast and took a sip. The redhead had been thirsty for quite a while. And a little peckish too, if she was being honest...espionage obviously made her hungry. You learn something new every day, she scoffed at herself silently. The wine was a rich merlot and it warmed her tongue and made her stomach fizzle.
"You do know you're contributing to a minor with this, right?"
"Well, I am an officer of the law. I'm quite aware of that."
"Are you sure you're an officer of the law?"
He shrugged, unimpressed, his steely grey eyes seemingly putting Claire more on edge than when he had his sunglasses on. "I have sundry jobs, if only you knew half of them. Then again, I would have to kill you if you did." Wesker smirked, unashamed.
Claire took a big gulp of her wine, either trying to settle her empty stomach or pacify her flurried nerves. "But mostly you're a corrupt cop by day and mad scientist by night. Got it."
His lips quirked in amusement. "You have me all figured out, apparently. And what about you, my dear?" There he went staking claim to her again. "Not so much a "good girl" yourself, hmm? The wine, for instance. If you're so offended by me serving you any, you could've just declined. I'm sure you're like any other college girl and drink plenty when big brother isn't watching."
Touché. She did go drinking and partying with her friends a lot. Without Chris knowing, of course.
"Yeah, so?" she challenged, and then balked, squeaking, "Please don't tell Chris!"
"Your secret is safe with me, dear heart."
Her heart did a weird flip that made her stomach feel warmer than the wine, and then she discerned it was time to get this meeting over with and get home as soon as possible.
"So, what is it you have to discuss with me, exactly? I'm sure it's too much to hope that you're finally setting me free?"
"It is. But do not fret yourself, my dear, you are making headway in our...agreement. I applaud you for your accomplishment tonight. No one else could have done it quite like you. I'm almost tempted to say...you're a natural."
"Thanks," Claire said dryly. "So, what about that doctor and other professor? What happens to them? Why hack into the hard drives of the university's research center?"
"Such questions are dangerous, Miss Redfield. You wish to get yourself deeper into this conspiracy? Best to leave it alone if you want to return to your normal life…"
She didn't say anything to that. He had a point, although it didn't make her feel any better about what kind of situation she had put these men in, whether they deserved it or not. Her being complicit in their (most probably) unpleasant fate somehow made her uneasy. Claire tried not to imagine what would await them now that their futures were at Wesker and Birkin's mercy...and would most likely be cut short.
"...unless you don't want to return to "normal"?" he smirked, a little too sanguine in his insinuation.
Claire avoided answering that, still upset over the fates of the two professors and the doctor. "Are those men bad like you?"
Wesker eyed her, sloshing around the little remains of wine in his glass. He stood, drinking the rest and then placing the glass on the table. He approached her, making her heart leap like a startled cat, and when he sat down beside her, she knew she was trapped.
"They make me look like a saint," he replied, placing his hand over his heart - or at least where it was supposed to be - in a gesture of mock sincerity. But she didn't believe him. "Trust me. They deserve whatever's coming to them."
"Yeah, right," she scoffed, and wanted to scoot away from him, but some kind of pull kept her frozen in place.
"Perhaps you should look in the mirror, dear heart. It's obvious by tonight's events that your "good girl" demeanor is merely a front to a more adventurous and daring version of yourself...the true Claire. The Claire your brother never sees or even suspects because he lives in his little bubble of self-righteousness. He would never guess that the real Claire hides from the world, afraid of judgement. His judgement. Afraid of being judged for who she really is and what she really wants. The Claire that I see when I look at you…"
He wasn't talking about her defiant and rebellious nature that everyone knew, and often associated as typical Redfield traits, but something darker. She immediately refuted it, glaring at him.
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Although her defensive denial only made him smirk.
He's playing mind games with you. Ada and William warned you about this. Keep it together!
"I think you do," Wesker insisted. "I saw it the first time I laid eyes on you. You enjoyed being complicit tonight, the adrenaline rush, the danger, yes? The fact that you got away with it and, in a way, set up three cruel men to the fates they deserve. Satisfying, isn't it?"
His words hit too close to home. Claire could barely breathe, but stayed solid. Her heart pounded in her ear, she clenched her fingers on her thighs to where her knuckles turned white. Still, she glared at him, defying, but it was hard to keep his intense gaze.
"I didn't enjoy anything I did tonight. I did what I had to because you blackmailed me!"
Her instincts were all over the place. Some of them told her to get out of there. To move away from him, but the others told her to stay, to continue challenging him. But there was no winning either way. He was manipulating her and despite her best efforts it was working, but, in a way, she also knew he was telling the truth.
"Irrelevant," Wesker dismissed her protest. "You still went through with it. You can deny it all you want, but I see right through it. You take pleasure walking the line of morality. And lying to yourself is both pointless and a waste of time. I know you better than you think. I can read you like a book, Claire...although admittedly a riveting one."
She hated how pragmatic he was, but mostly abhorred how right he was.
Okay, so what if she did have a little fun tonight? So what if slinking around, danger at every corner, was a little thrilling to her? Was that so bad? It certainly contributed to her rebellious nature, but that didn't make her bad. That didn't make them alike, no matter what he seemed to think he knew of her.
Don't do it. Don't give him what he wants.
"Even if you were right...which you aren't," Claire retorted, and then inwardly facepalmed, because that wasn't blatantly obvious that she fell for his trap. "What exactly are you trying to get out of me?"
"Nothing much...except that I want you to stop fooling yourself. You might as well be on the same side as me. You, Claire, are a thrill seeker. You love the adrenaline of doing forbidden things, feeding off those thrills and any power or advantage you gain from them. Not all that different from me. Your excuses for not going after what you really want in life are threadbare at best…You have the potential to take whatever you want if you would just let go of your fruitless morals."
Her conscience came through in Wesker's spell of smoke and mirrors, and she shot to her feet. So fast, her head spun for a moment, the light burn of the wine she had drank sizzling in her gut.
"You know nothing about what I want. This conversation is over," Claire ordered. "We're done here."
Wesker sighed, pushing himself out of his seat, seemingly unaffected that she desperately tried to flee his influence. "If you insist. But you won't be able to run from the truth forever. Sooner or later, you'll see that I'm right."
Claire chewed on her lip, this strange mix of dread and excitement making her woozy. She wanted it to go away, but she had a feeling it was about to get a lot worse.
The STARS leader returned to her with her parka in hand, holding it as she slipped into it. He leaned in close as she got dressed, murmuring into her ear, "But I think you're wrong...I think I do have a pretty good idea of what you want, Claire...you're merely postponing the inevitable."
His hands held her shoulders as Claire stood there with her back to him, petrified at being called out. No, he's lying. He's setting you up, don't listen to him!
Okay, maybe he did have a pretty good reading on her, she finally had to admit to herself. But she wasn't about to admit it to him. No! Never!
The narcissistic asshole rubbed his hand down her spine, smoothing out the wrinkles of her parka. The electric spark that ignited every fiber of her body made Claire spin around and face him directly.
The younger Redfield was aware of what would happen if she wasn't careful. He had done exactly what she had been warned about, using her defiance and denial against her to seduce her. She felt so exposed to how easily he had read her, when she couldn't even admit it herself.
Wesker opened the door for her, but there was an underlying challenge there in his show of chivalry. "After you, dear heart."
Claire told herself there were two choices here. If she walked out that door, nothing would happen. She would be returned home to her brother. But maybe she would only be "postponing the inevitable", like he said…
But her own bravado wouldn't let her walk out that door. Wesker led her right into a standoff of power he knew she wouldn't back down to.
It was one thing to dwell among this vicious pack of wolves and howl with them like Nikolai had advised. It was another to mess around with the Alpha.
Her heart may have been beating on her ribs, but she wasn't about to give into him lying down. She had one last act of defiance up her sleeve that she hoped would wipe that smirk off his face, since her obvious hesitation told him he had her right where he wanted her.
How much worse can it get anyway? Fuck it!
The redhead pushed herself onto her tip toes and kissed him. She was so determined to spite him and gain some kind of control, she didn't care what kind of fire she had just started. And what did they say? If you play with fire, you're going to get burned.
When her brother's corrupt boss slammed that door shut after returning her reckless kiss, Claire knew she would get burned tonight. But if the smoldering in her chest and thighs were any indication, she wasn't at all concerned. Even her initial irritation at him for not being taken off guard by her initiation - had he been expecting this after all?! - was soon forgotten.
What Claire quickly learned was that he was a great kisser. The taste of the merlot was on their lips, fuel for their fervent kissing. Her hands squeezed his shirt, tugging him closer.
Just as she was cursing his height, one strong arm wrapped around her lower back and picked her up. Effortlessly. Like she was a pillow. She squeaked in surprise, having never been picked up like that before. Her legs, through no control of her own, instantly wrapped around his waist.
He walked somewhere, but Claire couldn't determine where while they smacked lips. She felt drunk, but she hadn't ingested that much wine. Eager to taste more of it on him, she pushed for entry into his mouth with her tongue.
Wesker did allow her entry for a few precious seconds before he dropped her on something soft. A quick glance as her fingers found their way under his shirt determined it was the back of one of the leather sofas, which allowed her to be closer to his height sitting down while he remained standing.
"For someone so determined to stay in denial, you sure are eager," Wesker teased.
"Shut up!"
His smirk infuriated her as he dipped lower to suck on her neck. Claire tried pushing him away but it was like trying to move a brick wall. "No marks where Chris can see!"
He seized her ponytail and tugged hard, and Claire figured he was about to reprimand her. She hissed, but soon her hair fell down all around her face. He kissed her throat, and although his hands explored, he kept her steady on the furniture.
He kissed her ear, and Claire was certain he would tell her that it wasn't his problem if he left marks on her.
"Don't worry, dear heart. It's our little secret." Wow. She was surprised he was being considerate of her wishes. Or maybe he just liked being clandestine. "No promises for next time though." Never mind.
"There won't be a next time," she claimed.
The STARS Captain didn't reply to that, although his lips quirked upward, blatantly cocky. Instead, he claimed her lips again, giving her a tongue lashing of a different kind.
Claire kept her legs clamped around his waist, helping her keep balance as they kissed and sucked and explored. She soon became quite aware of the growing bulge pinching into her thigh.
He pushed on her, as if instinct told him to pin her down onto the nonexistent floor. If she leaned any further back, she'd fall onto the cushions.
Wesker quickly grew tired of bothersome clothes. He ripped her shirt off and tossed it aside. Claire had already long discarded her stuffy parka.
When she tugged on his nice, black shirt to be tossed, he obliged without hesitation. Claire stared, her hands eagerly roaming over his muscular torso and arms. He was ripped! He made the few college guys she messed around with look like weaklings, and they were jocks.
"Like what you see?"
The part time spy could only nod, throat suddenly dry. She expected him to come back with a highly conceited reply, but he spared her once more.
"Good. So do I."
About that time, an experienced flick of his hand popped her bra strap. Her bra fell to the floor. Claire removed her hands from exploring Wesker's chiseled chest in the midst of a deep kiss to cover herself. Her wrists were snatched before she could do so.
"No more hiding...no more games," he ordered.
His hands stroked up and down her sides, over the peaks of her breasts and fondling them. His rough kisses skimmed from her lips, down her throat to her nipples, driving her mad. The younger Redfield's chest felt like her ribs would shatter any second from her heart. Heat pooled between her legs, her nerves sparked at every ending.
Wesker claimed one perky breast in his mouth, one muscular arm curled around her back, arched from the swirls and patterns from his tongue. Claire grazed a hand through his gelled hair, pushing her crotch into the hardened mass cradled in her thigh. It was so big she didn't understand how he could stand it still being confined.
A few grinds against his at attention member with her groin and he half growled, half groaned and released her breast from his teeth.
"You're awfully bold. Just remember it isn't a good idea to start what you cannot finish."
Another challenge. He knew just how to push her buttons. And that was exactly how she got into this situation, giving him exactly what he wanted.
"It's not my first time. Now, you gonna get this show on the road or what?" Claire hoped he didn't see through her false bravado and thinly veiled attempt at glossing over her nerves.
Besides, it may not have been her first time having sex, she'd done it a few times with college guys she knew, but Wesker was a whole different level than them. She was intimidated, but did all in her power to hide it.
"As you wish," he snickered. Yep, he saw right through her defense.
He leaned in, kissing her a few times on the lips, and just as Claire was relaxing, he bent and bit the side of one breast. She gasped, eyes shooting open and next thing she knew he pulled her off the couch to stand.
"Undress. Now." The authority in his voice both irked and aroused her.
She obeyed...stubbornly. Claire took her time sliding out of her pants and panties after kicking off her boots. It was hard to do with his eyes on her, head slightly cocking as he enjoyed every second of it. Why did he have to have such daunting and beautiful eyes?
Quietly, he admired her curves and athletic body. He must have sensed her incoming sarcastic comment on his silence because just as she opened her mouth, he kissed it right off her lips. One hand closed dangerously around her throat just before he shoved one knee in between her legs. He hoisted her right back up on top of the sofa, like she weighed nothing again.
It did little to interrupt their make out session. Wesker's hands were a strange mix of rough and smooth, and petting over her silky skin, it roused every little inch in goosebumps. She could feel the power in those hands, strong enough to kill her without much effort if he wanted to.
The fact that Wesker was so dangerous only fed Claire's libido. Besides it all being wrong and forbidden on so many levels, he was a very attractive man, megalomania aside. The college guys, or boys she might as well admit, she could've beaten to a pulp if she wanted to. Her brother's boss was the ultimate dominant male with a killer twist.
His hands retracted from her body, disappointing her until she heard the clinking of his belt buckle. Her pulse quickened at that and then skyrocketed when she heard his pants unzip.
Wesker slid her hindquarters out from the couch, balancing her on the back of the couch to the curve of her back. Her legs had retained their hold on his waist, but she held onto the cushions for dear life when he began kissing her breasts and stomach, slowly heading south. His hands caressed around her hips and squeezed her buttocks.
"Not to worry, Claire, I won't be dropping my prize anytime soon."
She wasn't worried about being dropped though. Strangely enough, she was used to his mocking tone by now that she knew it was his very own, if somewhat odd, way of reassuring her, even if he was bragging in the process.
He pulled out of her legs just far enough so he could kiss her pelvis and thighs. One hand spread her legs open a bit more, the touch as electrifying as a lightning storm. She was plenty wet now, could feel it lubricating her inner canal and vulva, preparing for an invasion.
Wesker tested with one finger, rubbing her clit in a soft circle before entering it inside her. He smiled into her abdomen as he sucked below her belly button. The second finger insertion caused her to groan louder than she cared to admit.
"How many partners have you had?" he asked. He sounded generally curious, and not at all mocking as he usually was.
Why did he care?
"T-Two." It was hard to concentrate with his sharp kisses in between her legs. "Why does it matter?"
He chuckled. "It won't after tonight."
What the hell does he mean by that?
The younger Redfield had no time to come up with a remark before his mouth took her pussy. She gasped, death gripping the couch cushions, letting the stimulating euphoria from her core spread through her body like a wildfire.
Her captor kissed and sucked on her clit, tongue rolling and sliding in marvelous patterns. Her previous partners never did this, only concerned with getting off themselves. Pressure continuously built as he lathered her with his tongue. Breathing became labored, her heartbeat was incredibly loud in her ears. Her legs wringed under him and she whined his name just as it became too much, on the verge of losing it.
But he stopped then, denying her right at the brink and she cursed under her breath, the high crashing from her brain and flustering her.
"Oh, did I stop too soon, Claire?" he teased. To provoke her further he rubbed his thumb over her wet opening and up over her clit and she involuntarily bucked from both anticipation and frustration.
"Sadistic asshole," she growled.
He didn't deny her insult, and probably would have agreed with her if he hadn't pushed himself over her and forcefully took her lips again. Her aggravation was soon forgotten as their kissing quickly became feverish and fierce. She let go of the sofa and let her hands explore his toned build. Her juices swapped between their lips and, really, that wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be.
Claire slipped her hands down his exposed briefs to get her hands full. And she really did get a handful. He was way bigger than the last two. His rock hard member was at full attention in her hands, and Wesker softly groaned while kissing her jugular.
He must have sensed her trepidation though because he rose slightly, whispering into her ear. "Don't tell me you're losing your nerve just when it's getting interesting."
"N-No!" she snapped, his words perfectly rejumpstarting her resolution.
He kissed her jaw. "Then how about you finally admit to me what you really want? What I know you want…?"
A breath hitched in her throat. Claire couldn't admit it. She refused to! His mind games continued to torture her, but deep down she realized there was no hiding it. The secret was out...
"You…"
Wesker smirked. "Good girl."
Claire freed his cock from the confines of his pants. It was thick and long with a bulbous tip. The blood-filled flesh solid and ready. Quite ready.
Wesker grabbed her wrists and moved them away, sliding her legs out from the couch just a bit further. Claire gripped the couch again, her legs snaking around his waist, pulse palpitating in anticipation of what was about to happen.
Her lower back dug into the top of the couch when he bent over her again, but she didn't care. She wondered how it would feel with his whole weight on top of her. His kiss was potent, dizzying, like a shot of strong liquor.
The redhead's proverbial fiery attitude and impatient nature got the better of her, and she huffed, "I'm waiting," as she shivered, feeling his tip at her entrance.
"Good things come to those who wait," came his smug reply, his amusement apparent in his teasing undertone.
He penetrated her in one strong push, stretching and filling her all at once. Claire hissed at the pain at first, but it soon ebbed. Wesker gave her a moment to get used to him before he started rocking her. Slowly and steadily at first.
Claire's arms snaked around his back, stabilizing herself as her body see-sawed over the couch in each of his thrusts. He had a near death-grip on her hips; he wouldn't drop her.
She groaned into his claiming lips, each kiss seemingly getting more and more possessive and zealous, in league with each buck of his hips that grew stronger and faster. His dick glided in and out, covered in her juices and his pre-cum. Each time their pelvises connected, the tip of his cock rammed her cervix.
Claire moaned, the sweet, itchy pressure returning from within her canal, building at each of Wesker's powerful strokes. She squeezed her thighs around him tighter, fingers clenching into his muscular back. He returned her mewling and restlessness underneath him with a low groan, lifting her hips slightly for deeper access.
"I want to hear my name when you cum," he growled.
Several hard, deep thrusts later and the pressure blew, igniting her nerves, a drug-like high overcoming her senses as her body wracked and wringed in pure bliss. He kept pounding into her, even as she howled his name in drunk rapture. Her nails cut deep into his back as her whole body pulsated. She didn't have time to inhale precious air from her loud moans before Wesker silenced her completely with another dominating kiss.
His next few thrusts were erratic but even more penetrating, stretching her, preparing her body for his hazmat. Hot jets of Wesker's cum disgorged into her, coating her walls, filling her to the brim, almost sending her over the edge with another climax.
His slowing thrusts finally came to a stop, and all that could be heard was Claire's panting and Wesker's satisfied huff that warmed her throat. They stayed where they were for a moment, coming down off their ecstasy. Wesker still held Claire up, which was good because her limbs were useless now.
Wesker slowly, and dare she think reluctantly, pulled out of her. He picked her up off the couch and sat her on her own two feet, holding her steady. It gave her an odd, warm, fuzzy feeling to realize that he was waiting for her legs to be working properly again before he let go of her, preventing her from embarrassing herself by faceplanting right before his eyes after he turned her legs into overcooked spaghetti by the grace of his magic tongue and dick.
Huh. It's almost like he cares. Oh, who am I kidding...
He left her side long enough to get them some towels from the nearby kitchen. Claire took one gratefully and wiped up the mess between her legs. Wesker cleaned himself off and rebuckled his pants and slipped his shirt back on, watching Claire slowly and wobbly get dressed. There was no telling where her hair tie went. Her red-brown tresses would have to remain down for now.
Coming down off the high from the erotic encounter, Claire almost felt in shock of what exactly happened. She had just had sex with her brother's boss, the corrupt Captain of STARS, one of Raccoon City's most prominent men.
The younger Redfield was firstly ashamed of giving into him, letting him manipulate her right where he wanted her. She felt guilty doing that to Chris, especially in the middle of trying to protect him.
But at the same time...she was strangely intoxicated and satisfied with it. Sex with Wesker was a completely different experience than her previous, inexperienced partners. Addicting and alluring, and by far more gratifying. The thrill and danger from such an immoral coupling only confirmed that Wesker had been right about what she hid away.
That still didn't make her a bad person...right? Not like Wesker, anyway. Not like the rest of the wolves.
Her inner turmoil was only interrupted when Wesker picked up her parka and dusted it off, not that it got dirty laying on the super clean floor. He didn't offer it to her just yet, the two of them staring at each other in silence. Claire felt that Wesker was waiting for something, but she had no clue on what.
"And here I thought you would have something obstinate to say," he finally said with a smirk that was a bit less satirical than usual. "Trying to defend your recent questionable lapse in judgement, I'm sure. Strange, I only get silence."
She glared at him. "This," she motioned between them, "makes me nothing like you. And don't even think for a second it will make me help you hurt or kill innocent people. You might be a little right about the thrill-seeking, but that's it."
"It's liberating when you're honest with yourself, isn't it? More so, it's sensible," he countered. "In contrast to what you might believe, I don't purposely seek out people to hurt or kill, and they're rarely ever innocent. I only do so when they're in my way, it's convenient, or if I need to make a point." He stepped behind her and put her coat on for her. "The three men you helped me gain control over this evening, however, do, very much so. Do not worry yourself over their fates. They're well deserved, I assure you. Believe it or not, I am the lesser of two evils...this time. Now, any other self-justifying proclamations you wish to share?"
This guy was a real piece of work. She bit her tongue. "No."
He sighed, checking his watch. "Well, dear heart, I should get you home. It is getting late. Big brother will be back soon. Pity. Follow me."
He wrapped his arm around her lower back, urging her along towards the door. Her stomach flipped, the nerves in her back shivering delightfully. And she gulped on the inside, realizing her body would now naturally respond to him. She had unwittingly put herself in a much more dangerous situation because of her own stubbornness.
She only prayed Chris would never find out.
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Kitty Cat & Tweety Bird (Part 12) - Jason Todd
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Gif: Dxnninja on Tenor
Word Count: 2.6K
Paring: Jason Todd (Titans) x (f)Reader
Summary: Poor Jason has to suffer dress shopping with Y/N, Harley & Ivy. Y/N worries that she’s bothering Bruce.
Warnings: N/A
A/N: This is a little series I am doing about Jason Todd in Titans. I don’t know Comic!Jason very well so I’m taking all of this from the show, and at the moment he hasn’t been in very often, so please forgive any mischaracterisations.
Tagging: @bella-0104-123 @ninergirl1d @httpfandxms @rosybrock @attackonnat @reclusive-chicken-nugget   @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @young-psychos @thesleepykaijuu @thescottpack @nightlygiggles @rougestorms @sinon36​ @acvrosstheuniverse​
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“We’ve been in this fucking store for three hours,” Jason groaned to Y/N as they watched Harley and Ivy order the staff around. Turns out Bruce had shut the store down for the day so Y/N and Jason could have their outfits for the Gala selected without interruption. All remaining staff present signed papers not to spread the information and then were left at the mercy of Harley and Ivy.
Every dress and suit that the staff showed the women were either too dramatic (Plain white? She’s not getting married), not dramatic enough (Oh, so now she’s merely going to the Oscars?), too sparkly (what? Was Y/N a Vegas show-girl now?), too poufy (She’s not in a Disney movie, moron), not modest enough (hun, we’re all for wearing what you want, but this is a Gala, there are standards), or too modest (She’s a gorgeous young woman, not a fucking Nun). Harley and Ivy always had something to critique about the dresses, and don’t even get them started on the suits. The women had decided that Jason and Y/N must wear matching outfits, and because the dress hadn’t been picked yet, the suits were all met with an icy glare.
“Now, I’ll say this one more time for you, doll,” Harley smiled sweetly with a deathly glare in her eyes, clapping her hands and leaning into the worker’s face. He was a tall, bulging man, but cowered in fear at Harley, who was half his size and standing on a seat to make eye contact. “This ain’t any plain ole gala here, we need a show-fucking-stopper of a dress, not this cheap crap that you’re prancing around us, not the tacky shit, the best shit, the high-quality shit – you hear me?”
“Yes, Ms Quinn,” the man nodded furiously, “right away, Ms Quinn.”
“Good, now scamper and don’t come back till you got the best fucking dress for our girl, kay?”
“Yes, Ms Quinn, right away, Ms Quinn,” the man disappeared quickly.
“Now, darling, that was a little harsh, don’t you think,” Ivy scolded her partner lightly, tilting her head and pursing her lips with her arms folded as Harley climbed down from the chair, huffing and popping out her hip.
“Y/N deserves nothing but the best,” Harley said, sticking her chin up and strutting to look at shoes for Y/N.
“Give the dresses a chance,” Ivy rubbed her temples, “Y/N hasn’t even tried a single one on.”
“Yeah, Auntie Harley, they might look different on,” Y/N nodded.
“If I don’t like it, it ain’t going on your body, babes,” Harley cocked her eyebrows as she lifted one shoe up, a sleek black shoe with dagger heels.
“Good thing she likes me then,” Jason whispered into Y/N’s ear, causing her to burst into giggles and smack his chest.
“I heard that lover boy,” Harley lifted her eyes to glare at Jason.
“Am I wrong, though?” Jason flashed a classic grin at Harley, who rolled her eyes and chuckled before gliding past him to look at bags, ruffling his hair in the process. Jason frowned and tried to fix his hair quickly.
“Not completely, lover boy,” Harley said, studying a bag and showing it to Ivy, who squinted then nodded in approval, “but we can still take it all back. Remember that!”
“Yes, mam.”
_____--
Saying that the office of Bruce Wayne was grand was an understatement. Spectacular, extraordinary, antique, majestic, and so much more. It was the only room which Y/N hadn’t been in. Part of her felt as though she was intruding. She still felt a little like an imposter, really. It hadn’t even been a month, and Bruce had altered his will to say that Y/N was his main heir. Obviously, he left a little something for Alfred, who would still be employed for the Wayne Family, now that there was one. Dick Grayson had some money left for him, and a car, one which he loved as a young boy and first came to Wayne Manor. Jason, of course, also had a small inheritance lined up for him, and a position waiting at Wayne Enterprises. Selina was left something as well, but Y/N held to gain the most. CEO, a vast fortune, lord knows how many houses and cars and bottles of wine and anything else which wasn’t left to anyone else – it was all hers. When she was made public, Y/N would be one of the most envious people on the planet, part of the 1%. It was terrifying, to say the least. She was going to go from someone the world didn’t give two shits about, a daughter of a single mother who had a criminal record, to someone who would have people sharing everything about her to the world, the daughter of Bruce Wayne, future CEO of Wayne Enterprises. Bruce adored her. He looked at her with pride and joy. She was already the apple of his eye. When Bruce asked if Y/N wanted to see his office, she agreed. It was strange being in a room that was going to be hers one day, one which was her father’s, and her grandfather’s, and great-grandfathers.
“So… Dad…” Y/N said as she walked around the room, looking at everything. There were bookshelves which stretched up to the ceiling, all filled with leather-bound books. “What kinda work do you do in here?”
“Go over statistics, read reports, things like that,” Bruce explained, “we’ll go into more and more detail about this later. Right now, I just wanted to show you it. You don’t have to stress about the CEO stuff yet, I’ll talk you through everything and show you the ropes.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“It’s not a problem, my dear,” Bruce stroked his daughter’s hair. “So, wanna see the Batcave?”
“Hell yes, Dad!”
Bruce chuckled and grabbed a book off of the self and opening it to reveal it was hollow inside with a small remote. Grabbing the remote out, he moved Y/N to face the empty fireplace. There was a mischievous smile on the older man’s face and a twinkle in his eye as he pointed it and pressed the button. The fireplace pulled back inside itself, and a secret hole underneath it was revealed. Y/N stared and walked forward to see the descending staircase.
“Down we go!” Bruce said behind Y/N.
___-
“And this is where Alfred oversees everything when Jason and I are in the field,” Bruce showed Y/N the computer set-up. There were seven monitors in a mixture of on a desk and mounted on the wall, and three keyboards, but one mouse. All the screens as the Bat Symbol on the screen, slowly spinning around.
“This is a cool set-up, Dad” Y/N let out a low impressed whistle. “The most advanced thing I’ve got is my night-vision goggles.”
“Well, we can give you an upgrade if you want,” Bruce offered, appearing a little sheepish, wondering if he had crossed a line. Bruce was trying so hard to find the balance between fun and protective, worrying about being either too careless or too overbearing. Selina seemed to have it down perfectly, but she had 19 years to learn, Bruce had about 19 days as a father. It wasn’t something you could pick up in a YouTube video. Bruce had to learn it himself. He gave Alfred a lot of credit now as he realised the sudden lurch in the man’s life to care for another living creature, protect and love them. Bruce had no idea how Alfred managed.
“I’d love that, Dad,” Y/N turned to Bruce with a grin on her face, thrilled at the suggestion.
“Why do you keep saying that?” Bruce asked curiously, “calling me ‘Dad’?”
“Oh,” Y/N blushed and looked down as her face fell, “sorry, does it bother you? It’s just… I’ve spent near-on twenty years never being able to call someone ‘Dad’, and now I have you here… I guess… I just want to make up for lost time,” she confessed, “If it bothers you, I’ll stop.”
“No, no,” Bruce shook his head as he met Y/N’s eyes. “I like it,” he said, “it feels… right… hearing you say ‘Dad’. It’s nice.”
“I’m glad… Dad,” Y/N smiled as she hugged her father. “It’s nice to be able to say it finally.”
“It’s nice to hear it,” Bruce whispered into her hair before pressing a fatherly kiss on her forehead. “You’re a remarkable young woman, and I’m so proud to say you are my daughter.”
“I love you, Dad,” Y/N said quietly.
“I love you too, my dear,” Bruce assured her before wrapping her into his arms.
_--
Selina painted Y/N’s toenails while Y/N painted her own fingers. They had both decided on painting them a glittery red colour. As Selina slowly moved the brush over her nails, Y/N wiggled her toes with a giggle, earning a stern look from her mother.
“We don’t want these messed up now, do we, Kitten?” Selina tutted, but smiling afterwards with a small chuckle.
“Alright, alright, sorry,” Y/N laughed, “we should do your nails afterwards,” she said, “I’ve got a lovely shimmery black that would go amazing with your dress!”
“Not tonight though, kitten, we need to let your nails dry before even thinking about mine.”
“Fine,” Y/N nodded, “what about jewellery?” she asked, “what jewellery are you wearing?”
“Nothing dramatic,” Selina said, “gold chain necklace, earrings and maybe a bracelet. I just want it to be subtle, yet elegant.”
Y/N smiled. Subtle, yet elegant – that was Selina Kyle through and though. She never needed to wear giant jewellery or puffed up dresses to catch the attention of an entire room, no, all Selina had to do was smile faintly and hold her head up high, that was all it took for heads to turn and face Selina. She was enchanting, breath-taking, ethereal – Selina Kyle could rival Aphrodite herself as most beautiful. She was beautiful inside and out. She loved and cared about people. She was a good mother, a tender heart, regardless of criminal activities. Selina Kyle was a good person, and that was rare, not just in Gotham, but in the world.
“You’ll be the most beautiful person in attendance, Mama.”
“Thank you, Kitten,” Selina stroked Y/N’s hair, “that’s very kind of you. You will look marvellous as well, Baby, I’ve seen your dress. It’s breath-taking, like you.”
“What are you girls chatting about?” Jason asked leaning in the doorway with a cheeky grin, his eyes entirely on Y/N.
“The gala,” Selina said as she finished up Y/N’s nails and closed up the nail polish, putting it away, “our dresses and stuff like that.”
“Yeah, Y/N is going to look stunning,” Jason grinned.
“How’d you know?” Y/N chuckled as she blew on her nails. “Auntie Harley and Auntie Ivy won’t let you see my dress.”
“It’s like you’re getting married,” Selina teased, causing both Jason and Y/N to blush and look at each other.
“I know because you’re stunning even now,” Jason said. Y/N scoffed. Right now? Well, she was in giant sweatpants, with an equally large shirt that was old and worn out, even a few holes were visible. Her hair was soaking wet, and she had no make-up, showing the acne scars and blackheads on her skin. Y/N couldn’t help but feel insecure. Selina assured her that they could get the scars to fade with the right serum, which they had already found, in fact, they were less prominent than they were a few months ago. With a charcoal peel-off mask, the blackheads would lessen too, but Selina always told her daughter that she was a beautiful young woman, and she was, Y/N was aware of her looks. She was like her mother, but she was still only human, and even the most beautiful humans were insecure. “I mean it,” Jason told Y/N when seeing her facial expression, “you’re stunning.”
“He’s right,” Selina sang as she walked out the room, brushing by Jason, “remember, door open.”
“Yes, mum,” Y/N sighed as Selina waved and disappeared down the hallway.
“She really thinks we’d do that with them in the house?” Jason cocked an eyebrow.
“Considering that you make an innuendo in front of my aunties when we were dress shopping, I can’t blame her.”
“SHE KNOWS ABOUT THAT!?”
“The Sirens are like sisters, Tweety Bird, they tell each other everything.”
“Oh, God…”
“Just be glad she didn’t tell my father,” Y/N laughed at Jason’s already pale expression, which worsened at the thought of Bruce knowing what he said about being on Y/N’s body.
“He doesn’t know, right?”
“The Sirens aren’t stupid, Jace, they know that Bruce would lock me in a tower, Rapunzel-Style, if they told him that.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Jason groaned as he collapsed on Y/N’s bed, right by her feet.
“Hey, don’t ruin my nails with your floppy body!”
“Floppy?” Jason lifted his head, “I ain’t floppy, Kitty Cat, I’m a fucking Greek statue! Perfectly chiselled.”
“Well, there is one small unflattering thing about Greek statues, Jason…”
“You and I both know nothing about me is small,” Jason said, leaning over and kissing Y/N, cupping her face. Y//N leaned into the kiss, eyes closed and carefully placed her hand on his wrist, trying not to ruin her nails. Jason, through the kiss, knew this and chucking against her lips.
“Don’t make me get the spray bottle,” came a voice from the door, causing Jason and Y/N to pull apart quickly to see Ivy and Harley standing there, narrowing their eyes at Jason. Harley made an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture while Ivy folded her arms, tutting and shaking her head, “fucking bunny-rabbits you are.”
“Shouldn’t you be looking after Bud and Lou?” Y/N sighed as she shifted back from Jason.
“They’re at the groomers,” Harley shrugged.
“What groomer handles Hyenas?!” Jason frowned.
“One who has very high rates, trust me,” Ivy rolled her eyes and huffed.
“They look so cute,” Harley clapped her hands wildly, “they come out with matching bows, and they get given a little goodie bag.”
“We’re going to go pick them up now, so behave you two,” Ivy warned, pointing a sharp finger at them before she and Harley disappeared from sight.
“Well, that was embarrassing…”
“They’re gone now though,” Jason grinned.
“No chance are we picking up where we left off,” Y/N scolded, “anyway, Mum and Dad gave us rules, and we need to stick to them.”
“Fine, fine,” Jason chuckled as he stood up and pulled a small box from his pocket. “I’ll do what I originally came here to do then.”
“If you get down on one knee, Jason Todd, I might just faint.”
“Not yet, Kitty Cat, but one day,” he winked as he opened the box and handed it to Y/N. He presented to her the contents inside the box. A pair of earrings. They were silver, it seemed, and hanging off of the silver, like a precious mermaid tear, was matching white pearls that glistened in the light of her room.
“Oh, Jason, you didn’t,” Y/N gasped as she carefully took the box from his hands and looked at the pearl earrings. She looked from the earrings to Jason and then back to the earrings before looking at Jason again.
“I wanted to get you something for the Gala, and since I’m not allowed to see your dress yet, I’d go for something classic and beautiful, like you,” Jason said gently, stroking her wrist, so not to ruin her nails which her still drying.
“Jason…”
“No, don’t, I know what you’re going to say that it’s too much, but it isn’t, it really isn’t.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Y/N smiled.
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“Thank you, Tweety Bird,” Y/N kissed Jason’s cheek, “I love them. They’ll look really good with my dress.”
“And they’ll look gorgeous on you, Kitty Cat.”
“God, you’re such a charmer aren’t you,” she teased.
“Well, when I’ve got such a beautiful girl here, how can I resist?”
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myrainydayloves · 4 years
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Wedding Bells
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(You Already Know What It Is)
Pardon me is everybody because if everybody’s here, I’d like to thank you all for coming
Annaka had never felt more fear than when she woke up May 8th. She was stirred by her alarm, moving her hand through the group of girls piled around each other. But the alarm stopped without her touch and she snuggled back into the warmth of the cuddle pile. 
“Nuh-Uh! Up you go! Shower and then breakfast!” Scolded her maid of honor trying to pull her from the snuggle group. 
“Five more minutes, Mom,” Annaka mumbled, trying to crawl back under Anita’s blanket. 
“Annaka!” 
“Maryyyyy,” she moaned, finally beginning to untangle herself from the other women. “I don’t wanna get married today. Tell Cross we can do it tomorrow,” she joked. 
Mary did not find this as amusing, having spent hundreds of hours with Annaka planning the event. Capri echoed this statement by verbally telling Annaka to shut the fuck up and get ready. 
By the time Annaka had exited the shower, Mary had roused the rest of the women in the sleepover and sent them to the various bathrooms to wash up. A truly outstanding show of abilities in her opinion. There was a light breakfast of sliced fruit and toast waiting them and coffee brewing. 
She dragged her hands over the table that had been her place of residence within the home for the last decade and felt it was foreign under her touch.  Even the kitchen where Annaka spent hours preparing meals, where she’d shared so many tender morning moments with him, was new to her. 
Maybe because it was going to be hers now. Theirs, technically. But going from stranger to guest to owner was as weird for the house as it was her. 
She ate toast, drank from a mug her son had made her back when he was only twelve, and looked through the grimy kitchen window that housed a plant Cross couldn’t keep alive. The window about the sink was his responsibility, Annaka was adamant about and so far if had only seen soap five times in the ten years she’d been here. 
“Lazy bastard,” Annaka whispered into the mug like it was the sweetest nickname. 
Yen clapped her on the shoulder. “Glad to see you’re still in love. I was worried you’d get cold feet.”
“Now is your last chance to back out,” Anita teased. “If you little boy Lavi was here he’d give you the total debt but I reckon it’s around-“
“Lavi’s not little anymore,” Annaka interrupted. “He’s in college for god’s sakes.”
“He’s still your little boy though, isn’t he?” Capri teased.
“They’re both still my little boys,” she whispered into the mug. “It’s just now my name’s going on the adoption papers too.”
So after breakfast, Mary was rushing them into the various cars to the chapel. Annaka rode with Mary to go over any last minute changes. As the sun started to rise over their home, Annaka was leaving it to return as a wife. 
The little boys in question met the bridal party outside the church. All dressed up uncomfortably in their suits, smiling like church boys who’d stolen extra communion wine. The venue itself was a church, grand and tall, one of the most beautiful in the entire city. It was covered in stained glass windows and arches that were once white turned yellow by age. And today it would serve its purpose as a house of love instead of the usual house of confession. 
“Babies,” Annaka whispered to them, climbing out of the car to kiss their cheeks. “I hope you don’t have any objections today.”
“Oh I have a whole list,” Lavi teased. “Starting with the time you didn’t get me a mouse shaped pretzel at Disneyland. Can’t let a woman like that marry Cross.”
Allen gave her a sweet smile, like all the ones he’d given her as a little boy and hugged her tightly. Whatever fear or anxiety she’d been holding poured out of her as she returned the hug, pulling him close. She leaned back, brushed the hair out of his eyes, and hugged him again. 
“So,” Allen started. “How am I gonna tell you that instead of peonies they sent tulips and they’re white not pink?”
“They did what?!” Mary cried. “I specifically asked for peonies! It took me two hours to find a shop with peonies in the spring!”
Yen rubbed Mary’s shoulder with a teasing smirk. “There there, let’s get you all dressed up.”
“I’m serious!” Mary cried, reaching for her phone as the women walked into the church. 
The dress still fit, so that was good, she thought. She twisted and turned in the mirror, struggling to see whatever Cross was marrying her for before giving up. The flowers were here, though they were white and not pink, but that was fine. It was fine. 
A soft knock at the door. 
“Are you ready? Because they’re ready for you,” an attendant whispered. 
“Uh yes,” she mumbled. 
As her shoes met threadbare carpet, she thought about running one last time. But her feet grew roots and planted themselves in front of the grand doors. 
The worst part of all this, she thought as they began to open was that Cross had been right. 
The church was the best idea for the venue. Light poured down from the windows, birds that lived in the bell tower chirped, and the acoustics were amazing. It was like stepping into a painting or perhaps becoming a part of it. 
Only when the doors finally opened fully and the organ started to play did she dare look into the church. Her heart jumped when she saw him there. Regal and fine and waiting patiently, he looked like he would stand there for hours waiting for her to arrive. 
And she couldn’t figure out why. 
Annaka suddenly felt like she was drowning again. Like the waves of fate had finally pulled her under. Then he turned, caught her eye, and looked stunned. There were no tears or smirk, just genuine disbelief this was really happening. 
And then he started to smile. 
There are no words to explain how it feels to see your life validated. To see your work and your past spread out for you like a quilt. To realize that it was time to tie everything in a tidy bow and give up trying to make it bigger. 
So she moved. Step by step she moved towards him, afraid that the longer she stayed on a different side of the ocean of fabric, she would lose him. And then she wasn’t walking down the alley. 
Annaka was running. 
Home was in sight and it welcomed her with a stupid smirk and open arms. In the second he touched her arm, she was safe again, reminded and comfortable under the blanket. 
“Wow, you look….” Cross laughed a bit. “Well I was going to tease you and say you looked a bit desperate running towards me like that but...you look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, knees shaking in a way they never did. 
“Relax. If anyone should be scared here, it’s me. Allen threatened to kill me if I got a single word wrong in my vows.”
“Oh shit, knew I was forgetting something” Annaka teased. 
As they settled into a comfortable standing position, the priest read out lines and palms. And then it was time. 
Cross looked up. “Did you wanna go first? I have something in my eyes.”
“Tears?”
“No, I think a storm of dust-of course it’s tears!” He snapped, looking down at her. She pressed a hand to his cheek and smiled. 
“Compose yourself, My Love. I’ll go first though I can’t promise you won’t be bawling by the end.”
“Show off.”
“Cross-“
“Oh god, wait just-“ He pulled her hand back to his cheek, letting her hand lovingly cup his cheek and nodded, tears silently flowing down his cheeks. 
“There are a lot of things I wanted to say here. Honestly I could have us here for hours. But I will keep it brief,” she took a breath. “For ten years, we raised two children together. And not once, in those ten years, did I ever feel anything but grateful to Mary for calling me. I never regretted pack up everything in my tiny apartment in Seattle to move here even though it was very scary. Because from the moment I met you: I was in love with you.”
She took a second to wipe away some of the tears beginning to flood his face. “Really. I was. You made my life comfortable, gave me what I always dreamed of: a home and a family and a loving husband. No matter what you may think, you’ve given me so so much. So to repay you, I vow to stay with you. To kiss you in the morning, to let you steal my coffee, to watch you work in the garage. I promise that I will always be in love with your genius, your charm, your charisma. I love you so deeply even your flaws shine brightly to me.”
“I love you. And I swear I always will.”
He leaned in towards her and she helped shield his vulnerability from prying eyes. After a minute of silent sobbing he stood up, dried his tears, then dried his glasses, and started. 
“I have sacrificed so much to get something. I have left some many broken paths and people behind me that if I tried to make amends I wouldn't know where to start. I am such a pain in the ass-“
“Not to me,” she teased. 
“Never to you. I’ve never had someone love me so unconditionally.” Allen couldn’t resist a small cough and Lavi quietly kicked him. With a roll of his eyes, Cross corrected himself. “I’ve never had a woman love me so-“
Anita leaned out to glare at him. 
“For the love of Christ, can I get through my vows?” He snapped. With renewed energy and speed, he said, “I guess I won’t have the chance to wax poetic until later, my love. But you are, without a doubt, one of the most talented people I’ve met. Not just in poetry but in everything. And you do it while looking….so beautiful. Even when you’re asleep at the table, hair falling from your bun, pen marks on your face, I am blown away by you. I love you.”
“So I vow to love you forever,” he finished. Then he leaned in to whisper in her ear, “I’ll give the full speech later when we’re not surrounded by idiots.”
“I heard that,” Allen whispered, also leaning in. 
Mary leaned in next and brandished her bouquet like a sword. “Shut. Up. If we run behind because no one we know understands how to be quiet for more than a minute, I’m going to get very angry.”
“Sorry, Ms. Mary.”
The priest did not chance asking for objections with this couple. Partly because they’d already proven themselves to be a small comedy trope and partly because despite the crying or glaring faces, he felt there was no one in the room that had anything real to say. He gave Cross a nod, who then nodded at Annaka, who giggled and nodded back.
“I, Crоss Marian, take you, Annaka, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my life.“
“I, Annaka, take you, Crоss Marian, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my life.”
With a smile he reserved only for weddings, the priest said, “You have declared your consent before the Church. May the Lord in his goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with his blessings. What God has joined, men must not divide. Amen...sorry. You may now kiss the bride.”
The cheer that erupted from the pews was the loudest the church ever heard, with friends and family all swarming to hug the new united couple at the stand. There were a lot of ‘You did it’-s or ‘Damn, she actually went through with it?’-s and there were a lot of tears.
But despite the chaos and excitement, Cross stared at Annaka and she stared back, lost in each other’s eyes. There was an entire life outside that, to the pair, had always been so cruel, so unkind. But now, with two small bands of gold, the pair felt more than ready to face it.
Together.
20 notes · View notes
etlunainmorte · 4 years
Text
A word of stern warning before we proceed.
Thank you very much.
✒ P.S. I Love You ✒
***
XIII
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***
"Mr. V, are you okay?" Roman asked him as he and Griffon helped him.
"It's him." V whispered, feeling the pain in his chest increase.
"Who?"
The poet clutched at his chest, feeling his own tears come down his face at what he just witnessed. He looked at Roman and Griffon, and with an anguished voice, he spoke,
"It's Christopher Lancaster. He was the one,... behind (Y/N)'s suffering. And Victor,” V inhaled deeply as he clutched at the metal cane in his hand, his anger overwhelming him and taking over what’s left of his sensible reasoning as he began seeing red in utter madness and hatred. “He,… DID NOT LISTEN TO HER! HE,… LEFT HER!”
With all of his might and anger, he threw away the cane that hurt (Y/N).
No. He threw away the cane that belonged to the man who hurt her.
Griffon squawked as he flew over to the thing to retrieve it.
A few moments later, Roman was going through Nico's files in the computer, trying to find something. Fortunately, the woman has woken up according to him but, she didn't linger and fell asleep once more a few moments later.
But, not without telling an important message first.
And whatever that was, Roman was frantically looking for it amongst the files, recordings, and videos they were able to record for the past two nights.
V, on the other hand, still felt indignant. He still couldn't believe what Victor did to her that he refused to take the cane from Griffon's waiting beak.
Other than that, he couldn't do anything else at the moment but wait for Roman to finish his research. He knew that some writings have manifested in (Y/N)'s journal. He just didn't have the heart to look at them given the current situation.
"Dios mio,..." Roman breathed as he slapped his forehead for seemingly the tenth time that day. Just like how Nico was two days ago, the Hispanic guy couldn't seem to find exactly what he was looking for. "What does 749 mean, anyway? Ms. Nico kept saying it over and over again before passing out. Do you know, Mr. V?"
"No."
"And the way she pointed at her mouth as she mumbled those digits! She looked like she wanted to eat something.”
"Hmm,..."
"And look at this! Someone just entered the first room on the right."
V felt electricity run through his veins as he quickly stood and made his way towards Roman to view the PC.
"Would you kindly show that to me?" He told Avery's fiancé. The poor guy obliged and one click of the mouse later, a video popped out, showing a man clad in white from head to foot enter one of the rooms on the second floor.
It was the one of the three rooms on the right, which was previously locked.
With a deep sigh, he turned on his heel and made his way towards the second floor. But, not before instructing Griffon to stay put with Roman should anything happen. And Shadow? Let's just say she's been out of commission since the incident with Nico. It really seemed that she couldn't fight against whatever creature attacked the Artisan.
He should be safe, right? After all, it's broad daylight,...
He strode towards the said rooms and didn't hesitate to fling open the first door. And he was right. It was unlocked.
But, how and when?
The room looked pretty decent, actually. It was a simple bedroom that looked the same as the one for the guests on the ground floor, but only with one canopy bed. He stepped within it, hoping that no creature in white would attack him. Then, he began searching every nook and cranny for some more clues, notes, photos, heck, even newspaper clippings, anything. He looked under the bed, behind the closet, the side table drawer, even behind the heavy maroon curtains. But, there was none.
That was, until he began looking underneath the sheets and pillows.
V's eyes widened as his hands came into contact with what felt like long, thin threads, and when he took them out from underneath the pillows, he realized they were human hair.
Blonde human hair.
V dropped them almost instinctively as yesterday's horror came back to his senses.
That restless spirit of the maid named Roselle,...
He knew that Christopher Lancaster was the one who murdered her and (Y/N)'s father. And (Y/N)? It was pretty obvious to him that she only married him because she didn't want the sinister doctor to kill anyone else who was close to her.
And Victor? Apparently, he wasn’t able to understand anything because he didn't listen to her that day! And he even hurt her!
"I would never hurt you, (Y/N)." He whispered as if he was talking directly to her. "Never."
All of a sudden, he heard some noises from the other room. V cautiously made his way closer to the source of sound, and as he pressed an ear against the wall, he heard it: shrieks and cries and pleas of a woman.
The poet drew back in terror as he hastily made his way out of the room towards the next one, practically kicking it open and revealing the neat office that probably belonged to that evil doctor.
"Please, stop! I beg you!"
V heard the voice once more, and when he entered the room, he finally saw the source of the pleas.
And a few tense minutes later, he, Roman, and Griffon were looking down at a very old device back in the entrance hall.
"I think that's a phonograph." Roman mused as he examined the antique device that V brought along from the doctor’s office. "Like a very old record player. Professors or even doctors used these for their studies."
"Doctors?" V asked him.
"Exactly. You know, like for documentation purposes. Or experiments."
Experiments? "That screaming lady in the record. I think it's one of Lancaster's patients."
"Patients?" Roman chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest. "More like victims to me. Look, if - "
V's eyes narrowed as Roman's voice seemingly drowned in the music that was coming out of the phonograph's horn.
His eyebrows furrowed, his sight getting blurrier and blurrier. V pinched the bridge of his nose, the melancholic music forcefully invading its way to his head and giving him a feeling of nausea.
He closed his eyes, wanting so much to chase away the feeling of depression that suddenly took over his whole being. And when he opened them once more, he found himself seated on a pew amongst the crowd of aristocrats wearing white. The music was still playing on the background, and as he looked at the front, he saw two people exchanging wedding vows before the officiating minister.
The man unveiled the bride and V saw her,...
While other women might consider their wedding day as the happiest day of their life, (Y/N), for understandable reasons, was not at all joyful with the event. And while she may be wearing a very beautiful gown made entirely of the most delicate white lace, silk, and satin, her sad and tired eyes clearly showed those endless days and nights she wept for all the things she lost.
And as Dr. Christopher Lancaster gave her a chaste kiss on the lips and as the crowd applauded in celebration, she abruptly turned away, tears pouring out of her eyes once more.
V turned away, the pain in his chest overtaking his whole being once more. He turned back just in time as (Y/N) collapsed in Lancaster's arms.
Panic settled over everyone. He was about to go after her when the surroundings before him got wiped out like painting on a canvass against turpentine. Darkness and silence engulfed V, and when he was pulled back into the light, he saw Daniella and (Y/N)'s loyal maidservant talking to her, arguing with her, pleading with her.
"Get rid of it!" Daniella begged (Y/N) as tears flowed down her face. "He will kill you!"
"Young Master Victor will never accept this!" The maidservant added. "Please, my lady, heed lady Daniella's wishes and rid yourself of this burden!"
(Y/N), who now have dark circles beneath her once radiant eyes and hollow cheeks that were once pink and plump, looked at the two ladies as she protectively placed a hand on her belly.
"This,... is what remained of Victor's existence in my miserable life. Of the love we once shared." She told them, her voice resolute, and yet it trembled with each word she uttered, especially when she mentioned the name of the man who hurt and left her. "Victor may not accept this as his own but, I will raise this no matter the cost!"
"But, Lord Lancaster will never allow this!" Daniella argued as she kneeled before her friend. "I beg you! Please! Do this for your own safety."
(Y/N) inhaled sharply, then she closed her eyes and looked away as her shoulders shook with her sobs. "I have made my decision,..."
"YOU, BITCH!"
V heard the unmistakable howl once more as his surroundings changed. And as he heard the clatter of silverware from a distance, he went after the light that beckoned to him.
However, nothing in his own miserable life, not even his experiences as a Devil Hunter in the face of real danger in the hands of his enemies, prepared him for what he saw.
Standing next to (Y/N) as she sat on a chair facing the fancy table was the doctor, himself. He somehow looked more intimidating than ever, and his stance alone made the servants in the room cower in fear.
But, (Y/N) was an entirely different story, altogether. Her belly, its size now clearly grown, showed, and as she gently rubbed on it with her now skeletal hands, she looked at it as if it was the most precious thing in the whole wide world.
And this infuriated the doctor even more.
"LISTEN TO ME, YOU, BITCH!" Lancaster howled as he grabbed the back of her head and brought her face down to the bowl of porridge on the table before her. "YOU DO AS I SAY AND OBEY ME! YOU DO NOT DISHONOR ME BEFORE OTHERS! YOU DO EVERYTHING I TELL YOU LIKE THE GULLIBLE BITCH WHORE YOU TRULY ARE!"
V has had enough. He was about to summon his familiars but, it proved to be useless in this realm. And as his eyes stung with the unspeakable scene before him, he wrathfully strode towards Lancaster and tried to strangle him.
But, of course, it didn't do anything.
When Lancaster let go of (Y/N)'s head, she howled in pain, her now slightly burned face a mess. And not even a second has passed when Lancaster grabbed the back of her head once more and did the same to her face to the now empty bowl, breaking the porcelain, its shattered pieces wounding her face.
"FOOLISH WHORE!" Lancaster howled once more as he let go of her head and spat at her once lustrous hair that V has come to adore.
V kneeled before her, unable to do anything, helpless in front of an enemy he couldn't slaughter. The poor woman silently cried as her loyal maidservant came forward to clean her wounds and the mess on her person.
"My Lord." A servant came forward and handed a white envelope to Lancaster. The doctor opened this and read the contents.
Then, after that, a sick, sinister smile showed on his features. He went to (Y/N) once more, and as V braced himself for another onslaught of violence, the doctor only gently touched the woman's face as he placed a kiss on her bloody forehead.
"Clean yourself. Get dressed." The doctor told her. "Our presence is needed."
With those last words from the sick and evil doctor, V's surroundings changed once more, its colors getting more and more twisted as he descended upon the most painful memories of (Y/N)'s life.
And when he found himself back on the same church, sitting on a pew amongst aristocrats, he found her sitting just next to him. Her hand clutching her chest, and her veil covering her wounded face, she wept, her tears staining her once beautiful and lively features. He looked at the altar and saw, in his utter shock, Victor Blake, the man who was the cause of all this misery, exchanging wedding vows with another, younger and more beautiful woman.
Please, don't forget me, my dear, humble poet, and of those times we spent time together.
I will cherish those moments for as long as I live.
I will never forget May 11. I will never forget I have met the most wonderful man in the whole wide world.
I will never forget you for as long as live, V.
Yours truly,
(Y/N), your Little Wanderer, Evening Star, Beloved Muse, Little, Innocent One, and Little Lamb.
P.S.
I Love You
(Y/N) stood just in time as Victor lifted the veil and kissed his beautiful bride. And as half of the guests celebrated, including the doctor, who probably do not consider Blake as a threat now, the other half watched in shock as the woman the poet once adored walked away from the church,...
... and collapsed, her pain - streaked voice piercing the cheers of everyone else inside the building.
Daniella, who also wore the same veil as her, came for her and noticed the blood staining her immaculate white dress. She turned to Lancaster and to the other guests, her face contorted in fright.
"It's coming!" She screamed just as Victor came forward and saw how the woman he once loved bled.
V didn't do anything as his surroundings morphed.
He didn't even do anything as he watched (Y/N) give birth, her arms and ankles tied to the bed posts to keep them in place, her mouth gagged to suppress her screams.
He didn't lift a finger when the beautiful babe was taken away from her by force.
He didn't do anything when Lancaster closed the door of their shared bedroom as he removed his cravat and unbuttoned his shirt.
However, the moment he heard her voice, he trembled and opened the door, revealing (Y/N), now reduced to a skeletal form of herself and with more wounds and bruises all over her body, talking quietly to the loyal maidservant who stayed with her all throughout her life.
The only actual person who stayed with her despite the risk of being murdered by Christopher Lancaster.
And as V watched how she hurriedly talked to the woman who took care of her, he felt the tears go down his eyes as he covered his mouth to stifle the sobs. No amount of self control could stop his own heart from weeping for the once radiant, beautiful, and beloved girl.
That's how he knew that he -
"Take this. Hide this. Do everything you can to keep these memories safe." (Y/N) said as she handed her own journal, the journal that V has in his pocket right now, to her most trusted servant. "And when I die, I want you to go to Victor and tell him everything. Give this to him. And go away from here. As far away as you can."
"My lady, let's just run away from here!" The servant pleaded as she held the journal close to her heart. "Take the child with us."
(Y/N) only shook her head as tears fell down her face. "I can't. I will die here. I know. You take care of my child. Raise her as your own. Do it for me, please."
"Day twenty - one: Bloodletting and purging."
V heard Lancaster's voice in the phonograph a few seconds later as the atmosphere around him changed one more time.
And what he saw next made his stomach turn.
Three nurses wounding (Y/N) on both arms with a knife as she was restrained on a metal chair inside a sickly bright room, letting her blood stain the perfect white floor. He turned and saw Lancaster speaking to the cylinder of his phonograph as the poor girl screamed in pain and begged him to stop.
"Please, stop! I beg you!"
"Internal biochemical relationship was behind mental disorders. Bleeding, purging, and vomiting will help correct these imbalances in the body and would help heal the physical and mental illness.”
"I'm not insane! Please! Pl - !" (Y/N) screamed before one of the nurses stifled her howls of pain with a gag.
"One trait of mental illness is denial. The patient often finds itself unable to grasp what's truth and what's not. At times, they would even go as far as hurting the people they love. And worse, themselves."
V looked away, wishing the visions to stop plaguing him, to stop showing him these painful memories,...
"Day forty - six: Hydrotherapy."
The poet looked once more, and this time, he saw the nurses tying the girl's hands and feet and throwing a sheet over her head, twisting it roughly around her throat so she would not scream. They, then, put her in a bathtub filled with what looked like ice water.
"This turn of the century technique proved to be highly effective in reducing the patient's agitation by submerging it in cold water, especially during manic episodes. I will keep her submerged for extended periods of time, instructing my assistants to add more - "
"ENOUGH!" V howled as he chased the visions away.
And with just one blink, he's back to his own reality.
" ... and with the way they treat patients with mental illness is just horrific, it gives me the chills! Hey, Mr. V, are you okay?" Roman asked as he gave the poet a concerned look.
"I - " V began but was interrupted when he saw something going down the stairs.
"Mr. V? Are you - ?"
"Ssh!"
Roman looked behind him and saw the same thing with his own eyes. It was a girl carrying (Y/N)'s diary.
Her loyal maidservant.
With eyes wide with shock and mouth opened wide, the two men watched as the girl quickly made her way towards the huge heavy door. She opened it and made her way towards the house across the mansion without looking back.
Then, V finally remembered,...
The numbers on Nico's hand, the way she pointed at her mouth as if she wanted to eat something,...
... the number 749,...
She was pertaining to No. 749 Swan Lane.
***
✒ @la-vita , @micaelagua , @v-vic , and @birdgirl69 . ✒
***
✒✒✒
***
18 notes · View notes
impvarjack60 · 7 years
Text
18 Post Game Wrap Up Show
"Wait,.. I said WHAT?!" "To put it mildly, you said running today would be a bad idea, in the most vile and vulgar way possible." "Oh... We're going to have to apologize to them somehow." "We, Ms. Potty Mouth?! Do you have a mouse in your....... wait, never mind." She was still naked, and I didn't want to go there. "Ugh... I've never felt so sticky, or been so sore. Maybe we over did it a little?" She kinda' winced as she said it. "Ya think?!" We were young, and in love. We had newfound passion, and last night we had barely scratched the surface. Now we had to deal with the consequences. And we still had to deal with those steps. Another mistake we managed to make was not bringing the slings up, at least we could have kept ourselves from tumbling down the steps. But those went between our legs, and the prospect of having anything occupying that space made me shutter. We threw the sheets and our clothes over the side and let them fall to the ground. Then crawled our way over to the steps. It was like standing at the edge of a cliff. I decided to be chivalrous and go first. Ow-ouw-ow-ouw-ow-ouw all the way down for both of us, I never was so happy to be on solid ground. "Dibs on the tub." Said Anna. "Very well, you seem to be worst off." Then she whacked me in the arm, and I swept her up and gave a morning breath kiss. That's when you know you've arrived as a couple. You can stand in your side yard completely naked, hair that looks like you had a squirrel living in it, covered in goo, breath like a stale fart, and all you can think about is how much you love each other. We must've been quite a site......
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I guess they were starting to trust us more, the replicator had been adding items available to us. One of these things were art supplies. Anna took one of the leftover planks from the tree house build, and cut the ends off in a swirling pattern. Rosemaling. She was remembering more from her implanted life, I sometimes wondered what she'd be like around a welder. She took the scalpel and just touched it's surface and routed it with more rosemaling around the edges. In the center she spelled one word; 'Love'. She went to the replicator and ordered paints and brushes, along with some sandpaper. Dipping the brushes into the the routings, this paint was the best stuff ever, it came with a wand that you passed over it and it dried rock hard. Then she sanded what had slopped out of the routing, and finished it by giving it a clear coat.
"Hows this?, do you think the Zahir's will like it?" "I think they'll love it, Anna. You're very crafty." "Thank you. I think I'll do some of this for the house, I mean, if it's OK with you." She was asking my permission to girly up the place. When I was on earth, my home was quite stark- and frankly- I liked it that way. I was a minimalist and I think the Masters seen this, as this home reflected that simplicity. But this was our home now, and I was delighted with the prospect of our home having a woman's touch. "Yes, Anna. You have my permission to go nuts, and thanks for asking. All I ask is that you leave the storage room alone. I want a mancave that has some shred of masculinity, and another thing, don't put ANYTHING on my speakers." "Of course darling, thank you!" Then she gave me a big hug. Compromise. If we could keep this up, we could have the best relationship ever. But that has never happened with any couple in the history of the universe. Maybe because there's so much of me in her this works, but I can't help but think the day will come with a big blowup. Right now though, it's all hugs, kisses, and sweetness. Even in paradise flowers die......
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"Olaf." "Yes, Michael. What can I do for you?" Can you get a message to the Zahir's to come to dinner tomorrow evening, three hours before the rotation into night?" "A small social gathering based on the consumption of food. Excellent idea, Michael. Do you mind if I observe this firsthand?" "No, Olaf, I know you spy on us anyway." "I wouldn't put it that way, Michael. I merely wish to observe you." "I don't suppose you 'observed' us last night." There was that pause again. Anna had just stepped into the room, her eyes as big as saucers. "You hesitated." "I'm sorry Michael, but I do have a job to do- and besides- your performance last night was an excellent example of the human condition." "Olaf!!" Anna screamed. "That was a very personal moment! We're not some zoo animals meant for you to gawk at!" Sic'em Anna! She was very arousing when she stood up for herself. "Anna, one thing you must realize is there's a price for everything. Your very existence is based on preserving our races. If you don......" "Olaf, that is ENOUGH! Do as I asked, then power down. I'll deal with you later." I was basically telling the Masters to go fuck themselves. They needed us, and I'll lead a revolt if they ever threaten Anna or myself again, I don't care if they can read minds.
If your reading my thoughts right now, then you'll know I wouln't let you threaten Anna's life. Ever.
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"You know I'm very proud of you, the way you handled that back there. You stood up for yourself." We were just getting into bed, and were calling it quits early, the starlight just starting to fade. "Thanks, but I'm still pissed! How much do you think they watch us?" "Every single minute, of every single day." "You don't seem to be too bothered by this." "I'm a realist, Anna. Right now these beings have us by the short and curlies. This is their ship, and their habitat." The next thing I said would really ruffle her feathers.
"They made you, Anna. they made you. How do I know they wouln't take you away and dematerialize you. I can't bear the thought of losing you right now, so I'm willing to compromise my privacy. This place is the next best thing to being in Heaven, and I wouln't do anything to jeopardize this right now. Although I just told Olaf to go jump in a river, I'll have to apologize to him tomorrow."
"You're defending them?! I can't believe you right now! I'm sleeping somewhere else. Goodnight, Michael!!" "Anna wait, don't lea......" "Don't talk to me right now!" There it was, the blowup. Over something this trivial. Well, trivial to me anyhow. Earlier today I imagined all the animals of the forest in an circle underneath the tree house all cheering us on last night. And with the twenty thousand hours of porn that I've watched in my lifetime, thinking about the Masters huddled around a monitor watching Anna do the reverse cowgirl was kinda' funny. She did not see it that way, her feelings were crushed. But they were her feelings, this didn't come from me. Her thoughts are becoming independent. When I first met her- and the way she did the whole 'Stepford Wives' bit- I feared I was getting a robot. Now she's down on the couch fuming over being spied upon, and for what I said. I was using logic, and she was following her heart. This made me smile, and now I love her even more.
True love, that's what this is. It's finally happened for me. On this speck of dust floating among the stars, with the soft orange glow of the nebula streaming thru the windows, I felt so at ease, and sleep came.
 Well,... for a short time anyhow.
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"Are you awake?" She was practically rolling me over, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I am now." I was grinding into my eyes to fight the sleepiness. "I couldn't sleep, I kept thinking about what you said, and how you talked to Olaf. That could have been very dangerous.... and I.. just... can't... stay mad at you."
"That's the thing, Anna. This whole thing is very dangerous. We're in space, at the mercy of the Masters. A billion things could go wrong. I live with that fear every day. I have you, Anna. Right now you're my rock. I need you, do you understand? I NEED YOU!" I just couldn't hold back my emotions. Dammit! I really didn't need a moment of weakness. I got myself back together, took a few deep breaths and tried to tell her how I felt at the moment.
"Anna, you have no idea how glad I am that you got mad, even when you directed that anger at me. When I first met you, I though I was getting an automaton. A cardboard cut out Princess Anna of Arendelle. You're proving me wrong, and I couldn't be happier." "So you're not mad at me?" "How could I be?" "I still feel I handled this badly." "Anna, you handled it with your heart, I couldn't be more in love with you right now." "I'm so sorry." Then she gave me a big hug, and I gave her one back. We may have gone to bed mad, but the star did not shine through the window with us feeling that way. I drew her into the covers, spooning into her and stroking her hair. Then I whispered in her ear. "There will be many more times like this, we will live a very long time. Please, let's settle things before we go to sleep, there is no problem we can't solve, as long as we love each other." She turned to me face to face. We were just kissing for the better part of an hour, and stroking each other. Make up sex was completely out of the question, as that particular equipment wasn't functioning up to specs yet, and I've never been a big fan of that anyway.
I would really like to get some sleep, before that giant fusion reactor comes streaming through the window. We have a dinner party, and I have to apologize to Olaf, or cuss him out, we'll see how that goes.
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"Olaf, what the Hell? You don't ever threaten Anna,... ever. Do I make myself clear?" "First off, you didn't let me finish last ni......." "Your damn right I did not let you finish, she is very fragile. You do remember our first day? I'm sure you seen all that too." "Please Michael, just let me speak. I know all this looks very easy. But you must understand, this whole thing was a very difficult thing for us to undertake. Creating all the Hybrides cost us a great deal of our long accrued treasure. We were well aware of your mental stability. we had to be sure, you and the others of your species were right for us, and this mission. Please see this thru our eyes." "I've been tested, haven't I?" "Yes, and so far you've passed with flying colors, as you'd like to put it." There it is, now it's out in the open. I suspected this all along. I knew this was a trick that women back home used all the time, and I'd fail miserably,...all the time. But this time I was one step ahead of them.
"Ya' know what Olaf? I really don't care. You can spy on me and play your little games to your hearts or what ever keeps you alive content, I just don't care. But if you do anything that upsets Anna, I will smash you into a million tiny pieces." "That wouldn't do any good, Michael. The object you see is merely a drone, my being lies elsewhere." Way to go, asshole. Another clue.
"Have you thought about how much you've changed since you've been here, Michael? You came here as a timid loner, the very sight of Anna scared you near to death. Now look at you. You stood in front of a hundred and six complete strangers and gave them the most inspirational speech they've ever experienced personally in their lives. You've fallen in love deeper than with any female you knew on Earth. And knowing how omnipotent we are, you still told me to 'Go fuck yourself!' in so many words. That is an extremely brave thing to do. Would you have done any of these things on Earth?" Damn, he got me. Point, Olaf.
"Yes, Olaf. You're right. I've changed, and rather quickly, to boot. But the fact still remains that I will never, ever trust you fully, until you reveal yourselves. I want to shake somebody's hand, or flipper, or whatever. If I ever find out that Anna's accident was intentional, there will be hell to pay, I promise you." "I can assure you that was purely an accident, please watch." Now Olaf broke out something I haven't seen the whole time I've been here, their video technology. It was an overhead view, so I have to assume the cameras are mounted near the sky panels, yet another clue. I watched in horror as she danced down the limb and it gave way, her falling to the ground, and her screaming, it was gut wrenching. "Please, Olaf, turn it off." "Now do you believe me? These beings are a substantial investment on our part. We would not intentionally damage them to this extent in order to conduct a test." Price, cost, value. Didn't we just leave all that shit behind? Now I felt terrible. Anna was just a thing to them. She had a dollar amount attached to her. It reminded me of that joke I made at the meeting, she was repaired instead of replaced. She wasn't 'totaled' like in the car insurance vernacular. "Alright Olaf, that will be enough for now." "Is there something else bothering you right now?" "I just need some space, Olaf." "Very well, call me if you need anything." I never even acknowledged him. I decided to just go for a walk, alone.
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