SERPENTINE - (Yandere! Ada Wong x Lab Experiment! Reader)
Summary: When scouring the NEST, on September 28th 1998– merchant Ada Wong, under the guise of an FBI agent, splits with her unsuspecting partner, a rookie cop. Instead of finding Annette Birkin— she comes across a very particular set of yellow reptilian irises stalking her from a bloodied cage. Ada soon finds herself responsible for teaching a reptilian hybrid how to be human again while keeping it hidden from the US government. But what happens once this hybrid realizes she’s only seen as a pet?
!TW/CW!: Homicide, does not follow post re2 canon ada’s escape, dehumanization, infantilization/objectification, cheating but its not really cheating, homicide, human trafficking, child abuse, implied cannibalism, home invasion, kidnapping, human rites violations, PTSD, slight body horror/gore, starvation, california, los angeles, being mean to leon in the narrative for the sake of plot (god it hurts so much), human hybrid, manipulation, isolation, a lot of ‘iation’ words, loosely follows cannon RE2-RE4, Set in late 90s to early 00s, dub-con, oral sex, fingering, scissoring, tongue fucking, forced marking (not done by reader), heats?
!MDNI! This is your first and ONLY warning.
!DISCLAIMER! I do not condone any actions written in this post. This is merely for entertainment purposes.
That’s all it’s been to Ada Wong since the day she entered her adult life. She refused to go back to her old life— to live ordinarily, without luxuries that made life oh so sweet. By age twenty, she was a millionaire and accomplished mercenary known for breaking in without anyone even detecting her. And how did she do that? By using the fragile and lonely hearts of her patrons. Ada Wong wasn’t a plain Jane, homely nobody. No. She was a vixen who painted the town red with her stiletto pumps of some designer brand. Red like the blood she spilled for her hard earned coin, obtained morally ambiguously.
So of course, she was mad when a certain company had caused a certain city to have an apocalyptic breakdown— leading her to save a certain idiotic rookie from getting mauled by feral T-Virus stricken Dobermans. It was easy enough to get her way through the city with a fake FBI badge, and have this cute kid follow her around like a lost puppy. Excited that his self-inflicted heroic entourage to the RPD wasn’t meant for nothing if it meant he was helping a “federal” case. Ada will admit, Leon Kennedy was useful. He saved her life after the incessant tyrant Mr. X was on the prowl to end her rendezvous in seeking out Annette Birkin for the G-Virus. So after a peck to the lips, and sending her minion off to find the big G, Ada decided to lurk about the nest despite her injuries for any other big paychecks left alone in the living hell that was Umbrella’s famed NEST.
Leon had once again, done all the dirty work and so kindly cleared out the area, sparing her the time and ammo needed to take down human hungry infected. Security was tight, even for a place that now lacked any guards. It had taken Ada a few minutes with her EMF Visualizer to crack open the doors. Strangely enough, inside were no walking dead inside the northern wing of NEST— only cages riddled and coated in the undeniable metallic stench of blood. As if the researchers had left their bio-disasters to rot in their glass white padded cells. Ada limping over to the messy lab, lacking any true barricades like the east wing, finds a conveniently open laptop, still plugged into the wall. Scrolling through the files she comes across one named: O-Virus (Failed). Ada quirks a brow and clicks on it.
Ouroborus Virus. Named after the mythological snake from Gnosticism constantly eating itself, which symbolizes eternity— like the namesake those properly bound to the S-Virus have extraordinarily abilities of regeneration, capable of superhuman strength and speed. Combined with a sample of the Progenitor virus and various replies and amphibians DNA. Those bound to it undergo a metamorphosis in which they can also obtain some of these traits such as a tail, cobra flared nape, reptilian irises, and even sticky toes like those of frogs which gives them the ability to scale walls. In rare cases this has also resulted in a camouflage ability only noted in test subject 013.
Ada leaves the laptop open, gazes at the largest cage center of the room. It was made of bullet proof glass in a cubic shape. Yet the inside was lined with blood and torn up limbs. The sound of chewing stopped as she approached the door. Reeling back as a pair of yellowed serpentine irises gleam at her in the light. The shadowy silhouette tilts its head at Ada, watching as the mercenary circled around its invisible confines. The thin slits of its iris grew as both of them approached each other. Finally coming into what little light remained inside the lab, Ada finally meets you.
The number ‘13’ tattooed unto your nape. A branding from Umbrella.
Your hospital scrubs were tattered, coated in blood she didn’t even dare question considering the ungodly amount of torn limbs from inside. Aside from the possible (most likely) cannibalism going on from inside, Ada could tell you were an O-Virus recipient. You had horned scales ripping through your scrubs that trailed your spine to all over your body. Some on your hands, feet, and face. The scales themselves more resembled thorns. Notably the V-shaped pair that protruded from your brow bone and curved backwards. What hair you had was matted, or torn from snagging on these scales. Lanky from malnourishment or the virus itself, wide eyed, A tail equally as thorny as your body was tucked firmly between your legs. Ada’s brows rise in dark amusement. You were ironically terrified. Crouching down to your hunched over frame, she places a hand against the glass. Feeling a rare surge of guilt for leaving you behind. She feels her breath leave her lungs as you also place your hand to the glass. You were still somewhat human after all. She could tell from the emotions swirling in those mesmerizing eyes of yours. A feeling of excitement brewing inside her, knowing you would sell enough money to be borderline priceless.
Ada is quick to find the connecting electrical points that locked you inside the bloodbath. You flinch hearing the buzz of an alarm going off once it unlocks– hesitantly standing on your clawed feet to meet her at the door. Ada keeps a hand of her gun holster, debating if this was the stupidest or smartest decision she had made in her career yet. Reaching out she gently brushes a hand against your cheek, careful not to break skin once it makes contact with the jagged scales of your face. You lean in, a trail of salty tears leaving your eyes instantly absorbed by your skin. Ada guides you out of the lab, you hesitantly follow. Eventually noticing her own wound, you sling her arm around your shoulder wordlessly. Conflicting emotions swirling in your head like a carousel gone too fast. Half of you was terrified of her, clawing at the stupidity of following this stranger who also freed you… The other half was reverent. Willing to die for a woman whose name you didn’t even know. For nine days, you had been starving in that cage, witnessing unmentionable horrors.
Ada watches the entire time as you two pass over the black abyss of NEST’s countless underground layers. Setting her to lean against the central elevator’s wall you watch as she pulls out the EMF visualizer. After she unlocks the elevator you lean against the wall– watching her cautiously. Tail still wrapped firmly around your leg. Questions swirl in your mind. Still registering you weren’t inside the bloodied cage you’d already accepted as your grave.
“Who are you?” Ada jolts to the sound of your raspy voice, facing you with slightly widened eyes– unconsciously reaching for the forged FBI badge she’d left behind in the sewers with her trenchcoat. A brief flicker of annoyance passed over her face before facing you, smiling lightly. “Ada. My name is Ada.” She replies, not elaborating much further– and you didn’t ask. You had learned long ago asking too many questions only led to knowledge of things too painful to bear. “Y/n.” You respond, staring off at the darkness surrounding you. As if you both weren’t on edge enough, soon the alarms started to blare through the NEST’s eerie lifeless silence. An automated voice calmly informing you of your inevitable absolute annihilation and destruction of the entire facility itself would cease to exist in the coming ten minutes if you did not evacuate. Hearing another set of footsteps against the grate of the walkways you instinctively hide on the other side of the elevator, just in time so Leon wouldn’t notice you. Ada flickers her gaze to you, then Leon before immediately putting on the worried facade. He stares at her blankly– you couldn’t hear their conversation well but you could tell from their voices it wasn’t a pleasant one.
“I was just thinking about you.” Leon calls from the other end of the skyway, holding up the sample of the G-Virus in the light while debris begins to fall around the two. Genuine pain behind his eyes, Ada tried so hard not to roll her eyes. An ever familiar look she’d seen from the past men and women she’d used. That fell so easily because the situation was dire or they had no one to fall on. “I ran into Annette. You’re not FBI, are you?” Ada’s face cracks into a halfhearted smirk, a flicker of amusement passing through her gaze. He was smart, she would admit. “Oh Leon. Do you think girls you just meet kiss you hours after you meet them?”
You tense feeling the first explosions of NEST’s self destruct mode, the walkway creeks. A gunshot goes off making you tense. You immediately flicker your head around the corner and freeze. Annette Birkin, the one researcher you didn’t want to encounter. But it didn’t matter once you saw she had already subsumed to her injuries. Ada stumbles, her blood doesn’t stain her already crimson dress but you could smell it. The iron scent is like knives against your sinuses. Leon calls out her name, a shriek so heartbreaking if it weren’t for your inevitable demise you would have also tear up. Everything went so fast it made you dizzy, you could only hear your heart beating in its cage as you watched Ada stumble back. The last thing you remember from that night is the look of Leon’s face of pure terror after Ada falls into the darkness as you hiss at him.
And leaping into the abyss after her not knowing if heavens or hell's gates would greet you first.
Ada hisses in pain– head instantly waking her up with a deep sharp stabbing pain as the sun begins to rise. It was dawn. She slowly rises, hand pressed against the ground to support herself. Opening her brown eyes the merchant takes in surroundings. A collapsing farmhouse, mold lined the wooden walls, and the stone foundation was more like gravel with how much cracks ran through it. In the distance she sees a tunnel, assuming it was the point of exit from NEST. Ada reaches up to touch her head as another shooting pain runs through her head. Feeling poorly wrapped gauze around her blood crusted raven locks, she lets out a light huff of amusement. Looking to the side expecting to find you in the darkness– is quickly corrected as you tail swishes past her face from the ceiling. Looking up she lets out a gasp of horror to see you on all fours sticking to the underbelly of the wooden loft holding a dead robin in your mouth. You drop it into her lap which she immediately tosses with a shriek. Panting as you merely tilt your head at her, confusion written all over your expression to her reaction.
“Why would you give me a bird!?” Ada shouts at you, grabbing a nearby plank in an attempt to pry you from the ceiling (and half tempted to beat you with it). You let out an animalistic grunt of protest– knocking the plank out her hand with your tail before jumping down to land in front of her. Lips downturned while she side eyes you– reaching for her EMF Visualizer only to find its missing. Instantly she faces you, you only point to a pile of scraps on the floor. Groaning in defeat she flops against the ground. Bringing her arm to rest over her face while you scurried around the barn, investigating any possible threats to you both. “Stop… moving, you’re making the migraine worse.” Ada complains, you tense wordlessly seating yourself next to the female as she utters an incomprehensible string of words before poking your side. Wincing once she pricked her finger on your thorny scales. Trying not to salivate over the fact you kept on raising the price with the new abilities you showed her. Hoping that this was enough to hold off Wesker for losing the big G to that stupid rookie’s hero complex.
You eventually pull away, retreating to the ceiling while still keeping watch. You didn’t know a thing about Ada besides her name and that she saved you. In your mind, that meant you owed your life to her. So deprived of any humanity up until last night, you clung to any concept of the warmth you were held hostage during your time in NEST. Ada keeping an eye on you reaches for her choker– pressing it as it starts to glow a red hue. You tilt your head from the ceiling as she laid back down. Feeling slightly anxious for what was to come. It wasn’t long before you heard the blades of a helicopter descending on the outside of the farm. Sets of feet immediately emerge from the vehicle, surrounding the area you emerge from the shadows. Hissing in their direction. Ada raises a brow, knowing that in normal circumstances you wouldn’t be able to see them. Was it possible you had heat vision…?
The slits of your eyes thinning, Ada reaches for your hand stopping you from attacking one of the men as they enter the building. Each concealing their faces behind a black gasmask and matching uniform. Keeping your fangs barred as he approached with his gun drawn. Ada stands up, snapping her finger for you to get behind her. “Put your gun down. She’s imprinted.” Ada says to the man, you look at her with pure confusion. Imprinted? What the hell does that mean? You only watch as they surround you, and the guard opens a case. Ada digs inside pocket– taking out a vial and a hard drive. Inside a bloodied sample of unknown tissue is placed inside, samples she collected in her last few squirmishes with the infected William Birkin. Something you would later on learn was the birth of the C-Virus epidemic in 2012.
Ada stuck out her hand as the helicopter’s blade stirred back to life, you instinctively reached out to maintain your balance– no decision truly made. But as you board the helicopter, you stare at the farmhouse and its surrounding empty suburbs long since left for its reclaim from mother nature, Ada is calling a certain ex-STARS captain. The Airfone (which should honestly be referred as a brick from its sheer bulkiness) rang in her ear, finally she heard a pleased yet low ‘hello’ from Albert Wesker himself. “While I am disappointed in your failure to obtain a direct sample of the G-Virus, my men have informed me you have supplied a tissue sample, which will suffice.” Ada keeps a polite expression on her face while absentmindedly playing with the string on your scrubs, eyeing the AR-15 of the agent sitting across from her. A flicker of irritation passed over her, tension was high. One wrong move from you and you both were dead. “They also informed me of your little…friend. While I would love to offer you a price on it, that experiment, the O-Virus– is defective. The name though is genius, that can be recycled…" Wesker continues muttering the last bit to himself, the sound of a lighter sparks, then the burning of a cigarette. Ada blinks, looking at your now sleeping form. She lets out a huff at how sweetly you looked curled up like a gecko. “It was a poor blend of animals and Spencer’s Progenitor. It never fully binds to those inflicted. The most I can offer is 200k to your contracted amount.”
200k? Ada nearly scoffs, she was alone getting a heinous amount for supplying the G-virus sample. It was barely 10% of what she was being paid. Pinching her brow, Ada glowers out the window. Shaking her head, the mercenary watches Raccoon City’s newly flattened landscape disappear into the window. While she could just kill you, and sell off the O-virus for cheap to some pass producer… She’d never had something like this. Loyalty. In her field, it was a dog-eat-dog kind of world. You got betrayed, and betrayed yourself. Her once perfectly manicured nail now encrusted with dirt and whatever bio-mess brushes over your bare soles. A rare genuine smile cracking on those plush lips of her when you jerk in your sleep. Finding it adorable you were ticklish. The mercenary speaks quietly into the phone, “Stick to the original amount. I’ve always wanted a pet.”
It had been over a year since Ada had taken you to her “base” in LA, which really was just a rooftop luxury apartment with a landlord that didn’t ask questions because of how much the mercenary paid him– and blackmail on the ready just in case. She was often busy, leaving for missions which were called “vacations”. You still didn’t know a lot about Ada, but you weren’t dumb. Close enough to be considered somewhat of a friend, you still trusted her. You knew her work wasn’t fully legal from the way she refused to elaborate on a career. The California heat was perfect for you, being now genetically half lizard that was. You often perched on the overhang balcony, a special set of privacy curtains that were sheer enough to let in the sunlight but hide your identity from nosy neighbors. Sometimes naked (an old habit you had since your transformation in the lab), or in the plethora of bathing suits Ada had bought you. When the weather didn’t allow it, a special red lamp was installed in a small room for you to warm up. You didn’t necessarily need it, but it was the thought that counted.
It was strange sometimes you thought, how she came home with hauls and hauls of clothes or items for you. Like you were a toy, or a doll for her amusement. But you didn’t question it. You owed your life to her after all.
Lately, you were reading a children’s book under your special red lamp. Mouthing out the sounds of the colorful letters on the page– writing them in shaky letters next to it. Weeks into having you settle into her base, Ada was fast to realize how quite literally knew nothing and had a bit of animalistic tendencies from the O-Virus that needed to be worked on. While she had known your environment didn’t allow for much opportunity– she assumed Umbrella would have invested something into your time there as it wasn’t hard to tell you’d been there since childhood. Besides basic knowledge on how the human body worked, there was nothing at all contributing to your overall education. Like you never had one at all. So she took it upon herself to teach you. It was December, after Christmas and nearing the new year and millenium of 2000. Ada strangely, and rarely, had no commissions for the time being. So, with this new free time she would have gone to every celebrity party from LA to NYC, even London or Tokyo she instead took this time to be with you. Seated next to you, she was gently pointing out mistakes. Often showing you how to do it first while reading her own book– some sappy historical romance with the typical long haired buff blonde male lead on the cover, an often swooning or fainting female lead in his arms. Half of you wondered if she was doing this out of the goodness of her heart, or just to have someone to talk too about her cheesy romance novels.
During your often quiet but comfortable mornings with the mercenary, you watched the news. Everyone was either convinced the world was soon to end, or abuzz with newfound excitement of living through the dawn of a new era. One thing you found confusing in the mentioned traditions was a “new year’s kiss”. While romance and the concept of sex weren’t hard to grasp– (you learned from older labmates during your time as one of Umbrella’s lab rats) the concept of just kissing someone random for good luck was baffling. It compelled you as much as it confused you. Part of you was too embarrassed to ask Ada, wishing you were a normal human being who could step outside. But unfortunately despite being worthless of Umbrella, you were still blackmarket eyecandy. They wouldn’t hesitate chopping you into a thousand tiny pieces to sell off and then make the O-Virus some low grade bioweapon to be mass produced. So, confined to Ada’s highrise it was, sucking up your pride was next.
Hours before the initial turn of an eon, you were stuck in your room– debating which clothes to wear for a miniature celebration Ada had told you to get dressed for. While you had gained a significant amount of weight after moving in with the merchant, and the matted mess that was called your hair (now often tied back into different braiding styles as your scales tended to snag on their thorny shape) now also was significantly shorter as most of it was unsalvageable. You hadn’t been particularly attached to your hair so it was a relief when it finally came off. Deciding on a zebra print tube top and flared out black bottom bell pants. Copying some magazine of a million Ada had lying around the house. Finishing it off by tying a red ribbon around your nape, just to hide the ‘13’ tattooed on your nape. Meeting your gaze in the mirror, your clawed nails trace the green thorned scales of your face. Then around your eyes, still a black sclera with yellow irises. Your lips thin into a straight line. You’d barely remember what you looked like prior to the transformation. Everything was a blur. The weight of responsibilities you couldn't name weighed on your conscience. Guilt of forgetting, but the body remember was haunting. Shaking your head you pulled away, opening the door of your room only to nearly bump into Ada who was waiting on the other side boredly checking out her nails. She beams immediately, attaching herself to your arm while dragging you to the dining room. Seating you directly next to her at a table filled to the brim with expensive looking dishes. Ada herself looked stunning, it was hard for you to keep your eyes off of her. A red halter dress with a gold pattern of butterflies and flowers trailing down the side.
“I know you’re not picky when it comes to food, but tonight is special. Last year we didn’t get this.” Ada speaks first, honied yet low. You break from your trance and smile at her warmly– finding it hard to keep eye contact as you try to hold back tears. It felt hard adjusting to this new life, but you were genuinely so grateful. So grateful to finally have a friend like her after years of having to watch your back never knowing who might betray you next. She reaches out a hand, and you don’t flinch like you did back in the lab– gently holding it under the table as you both sat in comfortable silence. As you both ate, chatting about this and that you finally gained enough confidence to ask: “Ada, what’s a New Year's kiss for?” Ada nearly dropped her fork mid-bite. Looking up at you with her jaw slack, before a mischievous glint passes over her eyes. Scooting closer, making your heart rate spike at the sudden closeness. The countdown on the playing TV broadcast of the NYC balldrop began. “It’s hard to explain with words. Would you like an example?” She asks, tilting her head at you dripping with faux innocence. You nod once, tucking a hair behind your ear.
“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1–” The crowd chants from the TV, making the anxiety of tension rise inside you.
She placed her hand on your chin, thumbs brushing over your lips. They quiver beneath her touch, before she captures your lips in a deep yet gentle kiss. Pulling away with a light smirk at your dazed expression and the rouge lipstick she wore now staining your lips. You turn red as Ada chuckles. Finding your reaction endearing.
“For good luck.” She says simply before finally pulling away leaving you to rethink all your life choices. Before she leaves, Ada curls her body around the corner of the wall. Her brown eyes flickering over your carefully planned outfit. “Oh, and Happy New Years, Y/n.”
You don’t remember your early years well. No one ever truly does. Just being hungry, and playing in the nearly dried out brook near your home. Hunting for lizards, or whatever you could salvage in the desert heat. In a country you didn’t remember the name of, or your family speaking in a tongue you no longer understood. The countless faces of your siblings were all a blur, but one. You loved them all the same. Even if you couldn’t recall a singular name but your own. You recited it yourself, every syllable and letter. Constant and vowels. While you may have long since forgotten the world, you refused to forget yourself.
What you did remember was the debts– money never flowed in steadily because both of your parents were gambling addicts. Prioritizing their need for the thrill of one day hitting the jackpot was more dangerous than any drug they could buy. You found yourself jealous of the kids with drug addict parents at times, because at least they knew where the money was going. You like your parents had to play roulette with if it was game night, or finally dinner when they did remember to feed all ten of you. It wasn’t rare to find pitying gazes of your neighbors who only watched. Too busy with their own survival to truly give a damn. Your youngest brother, Dee, a face blurred into the messes with the rest of them always stuck to you. How it had been since birth. Handed off to you, you felt more akin to a mother than the eldest. Maybe it was the curse of the eldest daughter. Education wasn’t free in your country, so you didn’t bother. Focusing on making all your siblings ate rather than learn. But you didn’t care. Just as long as it meant your siblings lived another day, you were fine.
At eleven years old you were sold. They came in the middle of the night to your shabby tin shack. You had huddled all of them into the cupboards, under the table, even your bed. Sitting next to with his fluffy dark hair tickling your thighs from where you hid in the kitchen. Curses were spat from the intruders– banging their fists and tools against everything. You had trained them well to stay quiet in situations like this. But still, they were babies, and very afraid. One yelp and it was over. Screaming, crying, your name was pleaded as your entire life’s purpose was dragged away by men in black masks. You could only plead as you heard the sound of kicking and punching. Flinching at every bone crack and cry of your sibling’s lips. Seeing your parents ghostly pale faces you knew immediately then and there what they had done. Screaming their names in pure rage. You spat and fought as you saw them drag away each little boy and girl you worked too hard to care for. It was only when a fist made contact with your jaw that everything faded to black.
You woke up in a van, Dee shaking you through his tears. A strange black and white Umbrella logo plastered on the faces of everything as your group was escorted through what looked like a clean version of hell. Demons in lab coats, their minions in black carrying semi-automatic rifles littered the halls like the shoulder of a highway. Everything despite its sterility screamed and exuded pure evil. The kind that was so horrid it made your screams silent. The process was agonizing. First they shaved your head, stripped you of all clothes, showered you in scalding hot water and stinging soap. Nurses then forced you into ugly blue scrubs that ironically had a smiley face print scattered across it like it was supposed to make up for your upcoming misery. You didn’t even fight as they dragged you over to a tattoo chair. A sloppy number ‘13’ etched into your nape for all eternity. As the soldiers shut your cell door, and Dee’s small frame hovered under the comfort of your arms. A feeling of dread knowing you might die here.
Your life up until You met Ada Wong was a blur. A mind numbing emptiness of white padded rooms and grey slop on trays. A guinea pig for Umbrella, subject to numerous injections. Experiments. You and Dee were one of a few they called “golds”. Those that stayed alive the longest were more immune to what they had inflicted– and thus the experimentation only became more harsh. While originally you had only been used for testing experimental drugs they released to the actual public, you and Dee were now being sent off to the NEST– and for the same sake each researcher was like a wasp. Ready to sting at a moment’s notice if it just meant they might climb the ladder of Umbrella’s corporate world. One of these wasps was Annette Birkin.
Trying to differentiate herself from her husband's work, and divert herself from the G-Virus altogether– she was one of a select few chosen by Oswell E. Spencer himself to create the O-Virus. A new hope to create an anti-aging serum using the Progenitor Virus and the genes in various vertebrates that naturally carried it that would somehow renew the founder and save his dying genius Umbrella worshipped. And you were among twenty golds chosen for experimentation to this newly developed virus. At first, it was promising work. Your senior golden lab rats had begun the transformation. Within hours after the first dosage wrinkles smoothed and joints regained elasticity they hadn’t felt since their young adult lives. But then, things became ugly. Fast. Something with how proteins bonded, or folded you didn’t really care to listen to the science talk– prions in a select few slowly made them become mindless. Aggressive. And if anything, basically anything from shed skin to feces contaminated things. Though your group was immune and the prions would die, on contact with your skin… Instantly they would be sent off to "quarantine" which your group called the “blazer” because of the lingering scent of ash that came from down the hall each time they left. You however were their saving grace. Exhuming camouflaging abilities and thermal vision the project was renamed a bioweapons development. And besides from everyone slowly turning to what you were now– Dee still remained optimistic until the day NEST shut down.
The day the outbreak happened inside the facility, you and ten of the original remaining group were placed in the central glass cage for observation. Ouroborus had already been deemed a failure, and you all were in the process of wrapping things up. Voices screamed down the hall, researchers sprinted off their feet including guards. It was Annette who made sure the cell was locked, refusing to let her ticket out of her husband's shadow go to waste. Just like her husband, that obsession would cost her life in only days. Locked inside with no food, and little water it wasn’t long until people started to tear each other apart. And those with the prions had shown signs of hunger– they didn’t stop. You fought, limb for limb when they started to target Dee and you. Ripping apart the people you’d found humanity in was devastating. People who had poured their hearts and life stories into you reduced to rapid predators who saw you only as their next meal and no longer an ally.
Despite what you did– and know you couldn’t control it, Dee was also infected with prions. So, in his last moments of truly being conscious he begged you to kill him at sixteen years old. You refused at first. Utterly disgusted by the suggestion at all. Until you stared at the bloodied limbs and organs spewed around the cage of your half turned labmates. And your brother’s face twitching in a desperate battle between him– and the dominating ferocity slowly eating at what was left. So, you killed him. Fingers wrapped around his throat, you watched the light leave his eyes. Sitting mindless in the dark for hours, hoping you died there too.
A week. A full goddamn week you’d been locked in your room, refusing to let Ada in right after her mission in Spain. She was beyond livid. The entire mission she’d been thinking of you, your warmth, and how cute her little pet would look in the brand new outfits she’d bought from the Spanish countryside. Only to be met with a flat out refusal and silence as soon as she knocks on your door in her usual honied tone. Truly, how could you be so cruel to her? The one who paid for all your expenses, gave you love and taught you how to behave like a decent human woman. Really there could be a little more gratitude than this bratty behavior. Of course she didn’t want you to perch on her lap like a clingy kitty (Ada would never admit she’d never truly minded the thought aloud) but at least a warm smile to soothe her aching soul. Her work was getting draining, and if Ada was being true to herself you were the only thing keeping her going. And the recent reunion with a certain ex-RPD rookie had left her mood soured in comparison from whence she left.
“Y/n, honey, its been a week. You need to come out!” Knocking on the door, in sickly sweet words that only became more passive aggressive as her desperation just to even hear your voice was about to blow over into a swift kick to the door– you open it. Ada nearly reels back at the sight of your flushed and sweat slicken frame wrapped by the fuzzy comforter you loved so much. Ada knew something was wrong. That you weren’t just sick.
Immediately she walks in despite your protests, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt. Eyes glazed over with unreadable emotions, in labored breath she leans into you. You hiss at the slightest contact of her fingers dragging across your nape where the number ‘13’ was ingrained she darkens her eyes. It was hard enough that over the course of the mission she had to come to terms with her feelings for you. That she had to mentally register, that despite everything, she couldn’t find a singular reason to let you go. No one stayed. You did. You were each other’s most consistent thing in your lives. But only one was willing to do anything to keep it that way. “Ada– go*” You whine as she continues to caress your face, checking for any other signs of distress. Getting sick of her feeling you up you push her away, panting heavily. You were scared, scared of this unfamiliar feeling you’d never experienced. Scared of your own animalistic side that you genuinely thought was the same prions that consumed your group. That consumed Dee. Ada watches– shaking her head in refusal. “I can’t. Y/n, it's too dangerous.”
“It’s already dangerous just having me here!” You snap at her, tears flood your vision making it blurry as Ada flinches to the harsh tone of your voice. You bite your lip stifling the sniffles amidst your breakdown. Forcing yourself to lean against the wall at your trembling knees. The guilt, the pain, the sheer fear of infecting Ada with prions that no longer existed. Ruining everything for just merely existing in a world that never gave you a chance. “I can’t leave you, Y/n, I can’t. Because I won’t!” Ada shouts back, gripping each side of the door frame like it was the only vice left she had to reality. And it probably was. Ada was terrified just as you were in this moment. Terrified of losing you. Terrified of you pushing her away. It was so fast, how you stood there stunned. Removing the comforter from your head you whisper a challenge to her: “Prove it.”
Soon as the fabric had hit the ground both your lips met in a feverish kiss. Hands running and groping whatever they could find. Everything was so dizzingly hot you barely registered Ada’s hand slipping up your shirt. You didn’t stop her, you didn’t fight. Even in your state– despite it you knew you wouldn’t have stopped her. Because you wanted it too. Ada palms her hands against your breasts, thumbs brushing your sensitive nipples while trailing her tongue down your neck, accompanied by the tickling sensation of her ebony hair. Guiding you to the large queen sized bed center of your room littered with blankets messily over its top like a shabby makeshift burrow. It was hard to even think, let alone comprehend all the touches. Half spoken words silenced by her tongue. As if relentlessness had taken form in the shape of a chisel, which she would carve her motif to remind you, you were hers.
It didn’t take you long with the help of your sharp claws and Ada’s desperate fingers to find each other soon clothless. Ada kisses down the valley between your breasts, her other hand holding you down firmly on your chest. Flickering her amber eyes to your panting face, Ada dips immediately between your thighs. Biting and kissing the inner part just near your most sensitive bits. Her tongue dragging teasingly over your slit before hoisting your legs over her shoulders. Breathing against your skin, you squirm from the overwhelming sensations– unconsciously dragging her nose against your clit. You barely even have a moment to breathe before Ada’s lips attach to the bundle of nerves. Clamping a hand over your mouth to the pathetic squeal that followed. Suckling on the nub vigorously. “Ada– slow down–” You groan, feeling the build up to your impending climax. She hums in response, the vibrations just enough to send you over the edge. You grip her hair, the slits of your serpentine pupils go pencil thin, and legs quivering like newborn foals as she pulls away with your release dripping off her pale chin and staining the sheets below.
Ada watches as you draw an arm over your face, counting each of the thorn-like scales that peppered over your reptilian skin. Her red polished nails drag across your navel, then dip down in your dripping cunt to collect the remnant of your orgasm. Bringing it to her lips, and slowly liking a stripe over her digits. Eyes watching every small twitch of your expression as she spreads apart your folds. Smiling cruelly as your lips part, just as her fingers entered your walls. Your lip quivers, brows knitted as you grab her arm trying to adjust to the unknown stretch. Ada’s fingers were long and skinny, reaching deep enough inside of you to touch your most sensitive bit. A whisper of what true ecstasy awaited you. “You feel that?” Ada leans over whispering in your ear. Nipping at your earlobe before pressing a chaste kiss onto your cheek before curling her fingers sharply into your g-spot making you jolt. “That’s me, making you feel what no man will. Because I am the only one who can.” Before you can even make a retort (not like the putty your mind was in your current state) she increases her speed to a brutal piston. Jabbing into you at an ungodly speed. Just as you grab her arm, just as your vision is about to be blinded by an abyss of white nothingness– Ada pulls her digits out. Leaving your poor gummy walls to visibly quake at her cruel torment. You face her, tears beading at the corners of your eyes confused. Ada huffs in amusement, pushing you back down and slinging your now trembling legs unto the expanse of her shoulders. “What?” She tilts her head, the raven locks of her bob tickling your inner thighs once more. “I never said it was easy.”
Ada disappears into your cunt once more. You suddenly lose the ability to breathe. Plunging her tongue into your gummy canal Ada twists and curls her tongue against your poorly abused g-spot. Your serpentine eyes roll back, the sharp claws of your hands snatch her black strands– accidentally grazing her forehead drawing blood. Ada doesn’t even notice as she continues to impale her wet muscle into your sopping cunt, rewarded with the near death experience of you clamping your thighs tightly around her face. Popping off your pussy with a loud smack, Ada wipes her face with the back of her hand. Her mascara now running down her cheeks, you catch her sly smirk at your utterly destroyed frame. “Darling, you’re just like a man. No stamina.” Ada chides you, pressing a finger into the small of your waist to which you reflexly flinch. Your cheeks and nape are utterly red from her torture. Ada’s eyes narrow as you flutter your lashes with the threat of sleep. Tutting her tongue she roughly grabs your cheeks, slapping you just hard enough to jolt you awake. “Recharge, slut. We’re not done.”
As if you were a ragdoll, and Ada the bottled up anger of every female on earth– you are once pushed back unto the bed, this time quite roughly. Guiding your legs to spread apart, Ada stands over you. Her own slick traveling down her legs from her cunt lands on your lower stomach. Grabbing your calves she drags you up with strength you didn’t even know the mercenary possessed, half way in the air your back and head rest against the bed. “Have you ever ridden a horse?” She blinks at you rapidly, tilting her head with a chastising smile. “I’m sorry, that's a stupid question. Because for now, you’re the horse.” It’s the last thing she says to you before planting her cunt against yours. Giving no room for thought as she grinds her hips roughly. She kisses the leg slung over her upper body, making circular motions as you grab the closest pillow in a pitiful attempt to suffocate the unholy noises leaving you. For a woman slender as Ada you were utterly baffled at how she dominated a room, let alone you so easily. For Christ’s sake, you were a half lizard snake abomination Umbrella had no idea what to do with. Nearing her own orgasm, Ada increases her speed tenfold. Leaving you gaping with tiny gasps and twitches to your already overly sensitive cunt to be used for her making. Sweat drips down her ivory skin, nearing the edge. Slamming your clits together in one last thrust, you feel her orgasm geyser against your legs. Leaving you both a watery mess of desire as she collapses next to you.
While you were quick to fall asleep, utterly exhausted from the earlier activities– Ada leaned in to smell your nape, and sank her teeth into the delicate flesh until it drew blood. Just on the spot she knew released your scent, and clasped her age old choker around it. Always to watch like a guardian angel.
Ever since that night, Ada barely left the highrise– or you. Following you everywhere, watching you from afar when she did allow you a rare moment of space. Religiously. As if every step you took away from her was damnation, but every step closer was salvation. You couldn’t count the amount of times you woke up to her fingers running through your hair. The random small gifts, like bowls of fruits left by your bedside, or clothes made with a material she knew wouldn’t snag on your scales. While Ada often liked to spoil you, it was still rare. Everything felt more personal. While you were happy to just have her around more often– things soon changed.
After all you had gone through, you were someone who didn’t mind never leaving the house. You had spent years locked in cages, and never so little as seeing sunlight for almost eight years straight until Ada had freed you in 1998. It didn’t bother you not going out days at a time because it was what your body had simply adapted too. While you no longer had a casket ready tint to your skin from no vitamin D and your habit of sunbathing on Ada’s roof, you still did hate being around people you didn’t know. One of these instances was the cleaning lady Ada often had come in on a weekly basis. You often hid in your room in the loft area above it. She wasn’t permitted to access a “storage” area by Ada when all it really held was a decoy container bought cheaply from the local hardware store. It remained that way for years when you accidentally knocked over one of the empty bins with your tail, sending it flying down unto the floor below next to her. Thankfully Ada had come home earlier that day, expecting to find you lounging on the bed with some Jane Austen books you’d taken a like too, and her janitor to already have left for the day– only to find her climbing up the stairs to your loft.
It wasn’t long til a body matching her description was found dumped off the Santa Monica Pier. You never questioned it, never so much even alluded to it to Ada because from then on her hired help was always rotating. Never staying more than six months. Ada Wong was already very careful about people finding out about her true career and name. But Lord be damned if it was you they found out about. An ex-Umbrella project, and her lover. She’d killed many people prior to finding you years prior. It wasn’t something that bothered her. For coin, or for love. A life was a life, and all lives had to end– whether they met it early by her hand or not. Just as long as you were happy and well, she was too. Anything and everything for you.
Until that was the very thing that broke your unfettered trust in her.
Ada, a mercenary and freelance spy, was used to doing whatever it took to make sure a job was well done. One of these was located in LA this time. Often when they were, she would strictly instruct you to stay in your room. Her target this time, an ex-Umbrella researcher who worked part on the Tyrant-Nemesis’ project– of course it was Albert Wesker hiring her again. This time with life changing money if she could pry information out of him on the virus’ legendary physical adaption when it pursues targets. It was life changing money, even for a woman filthy rich as her. And luckily this researcher, Robert Kidman, was a typical old pervert. While she had originally planned on bleeding information by typical seduction tactics, Robert was being especially insistent on going back to her place. Ada internally was disgusted, trying not to rip his throat out at every disgusting comment he made or area he fondled on her as they made their way.
But it seems this time, you were not informed. Conveniently Robert’s back was facing you– panicking you immediately camouflage into the surrounding area. Terrified someone had broken into take you and chop you into little pieces to distribute the virus your body produced. eyes flickering about from where you hid for Ada. Only to find her lips placed on top of the intruder’s.
You reel back, a gasp leaving your lips which did not go amiss by the mercenary. The shock of seeing her in the act of what you rightfully thought was her cheating on you, Ada had never told you what she did for work. Not a thing. Ada’s amber eyes immediately flicker up to where she heard your voice. Her heartbeat being the only thing in her ears as Robert noticed something was off turned to see you appear before him. He screams at your state. Half transformed. Where human pupils were supposed to be were snake slits and black scalera– and thorny scales covering your body in uneven splotches of green. Maybe if Robert wasn’t nearly seventy years old, and didn’t engorge on European pastries like the so-called starving children in Africa with no specification to region or country white American mothers loved to guilt trip their children into not wasting food… He wouldn’t have a heart attack that night. As his portly body collapses onto the tiled floor of Ada’s complex, you both gape in utter horror. Ada on being caught in the middle of a mission by you and her current target’s information she hadn’t fully milked of information, and you for catching her kissing another man and indirectly causing this man’s death. It all being too much you turn on your heel for the balcony for some fresh air. Brushing off Ada’s hand angrily as she tried to explain– but you wouldn’t hear it.
“Don’t. Don’t touch me.” You hiss sharply at her, the first time you ever did. Ada’s mind was spiralling with possibilities– eyes flickering to that choker you never took off since your earlier encounter. She felt like screaming, shaking you in your stubbornness like you were some disobedient dog. Pausing as she realized she was getting worked up over nothing. Just a little explanation and it would all go away. Right? It was so stupidly simple. You, her darling pet, would stay mad for a little while and come to crawl into her lap sooner than later. Sighing deeply, Ada walks over next to you. You were glowering out at blank blinds in front of you. Wanting to rip to shreds just so someone would witness it. For eight years you stayed here. Played the role of her damn dog, gave her your love, your body only to bring back some fat pig like it all meant nothing. Running a hand over your face you face her with a light scoff, taking in that eerily calm face. You furrow your brows looking at her deeply. To a face practically ingrained in your mind, why did it feel like you were looking at a stranger?
“Darling– I don’t understand why you’re reacting this way. That was nothing– he means nothing to me. It’s just work.” Ada’s voice was dripping with honey, but not the kind that made you melt. The kind that made your skin crawl from how rotten it tasted from being left out to spoil. Venomous from how much it stung as she traced your jaw with her finger like it lacerated with each turn it took. You scoff at her, tears pricking at the end of your eyes, prying that hand off your face. It was sickening, so so so much you wanted it to be a bad dream. Praying that it was your mind playing tricks on you for the trash reality TV you’d been watching lately. But it wasn’t. Tears dripping into her palms Ada stares brushing her thumb over your lips. Leaning in, knowing she had you just where she wanted you as you molded into her. Not a word registering as she explained why the ex-Umbrella was there to you like you were two.
Ada pets your hair the rest of the night, thinking of ways to explain to Wesker why Robert Kidman had died on her kitchen floor.
You had been getting antsy. Ever since she’d brought home Richard. The kiss, the condensation. You felt extremely stupid for not noticing it over the years. You weren’t lovers. You were her pet. Something for her to control. Her supposed generosity is hidden behind the true intent of keeping you pliable. Something for her to mold. And when you did bite back– it was met with being treated like a dog. It happened so drastically, within a week, she had locked you to the half of the highrise with the balcony. Every argument was met with a counter. You were getting tired of living like you were a pet. Crippled with the reality of your situation. One cage was traded for another. While you don’t regret leaving NEST with Ada that night, a deep part of you wished you left her there in the farmhouse years ago to die in the short-lived freedom you would’ve had. That was preferable to being still being seen as non-human than by your own lover.
And so, you left. The only thing you took were the clothes on your back and the collar Ada had gifted you. One thing to remember her by, even if she ended up being the reason you left.
Anxiously you play with the drawstring of your hoodie. Keeping to yourself at the end of the subway while flitting your eyes side to side, absolutely convinced Ada had known you left in the middle of the night. Ada hadn’t determined you would jump ten floors off the side of the railing– that was suicidal to someone who wasn’t you. Half the reason you two survived the fall in NEST in ‘98 was because of your regenerative abilities. Your legs, absolutely shattered healed within seconds. Camouflage wasn’t the most convenient in this situation (it’d look like clothes floating midair) so a typical and albeit stereotypical disguise of a hoodie and jeans would have to work. Being stuck in her highrise for eight years, it would be hard to consider yourself a local as you never left the property.
Wandered until you came across a 24/7 diner– an old one that seemed oddly nostalgic. Walking inside it’s fairly empty besides one old man in the corner with a cane, his fingers drifting over a blank book which you found odd. The hostess at the counter flickers a judgemental gaze, whether it be years of working minimum wage had worn off all her abilities to give a fuck or RBF you wouldn’t know. Currently you were looking around in awe. It looked like a scene from the movies. Old ones Ada would rent out when she had the rare night off– you shake your head. Now wasn’t the time. You were famished and needed food. Seating yourself at the counter the hostess tosses you a menu. You press a finger into the sprinkle pancakes image highlighted in the children's section. Giving the hostess an awkward grin careful not to show your razor sharp teeth. You earn yourself another side eye as she pulls away wordlessly. Leaving you to sit at the counter kicking your feet in the excitement of living in somewhat normalcy your life was devoid of.
Playing on the radio was typical 50’s and 60’s hits, the rest of the diner matched the theme down to the bitter hostess’ uniform. Once she brought out the food, you immediately dug in— finishing the meal within minutes. Disgusted, the server brought the check to you. Blankly you look between her and the paper. Giving her a confused tilt of the head as if its mere existence baffled you. “Are you an idiot? It's the check.” She replies, crossing her arms over her chest. Watching you dig through your hoodie pockets aimlessly. You face her with your lips pursed together. Resisting the urge to gape. You shrink as the hostess’ face begins to turn red, knowing she did not in fact get paid enough for this– only to feel a hand on your arm as a crisp 20$ bill slid across the counter. “Enough, she’s clearly a kid.” You blink looking to your side to see the old man from before, giving him a polite smile. He soon wanders back to his booth leaving you to sit in silence, the waitress comes back with the change gesturing you to give it back to him.
Shyly you patter over to his booth and set it in front of him. He pauses, stopping his hands from running over the blank pages you noticed had small raised bumps in them. You stare, a bit stunned as you realized he was blind. Quietly you sit across from him– taking his hand and opening it to place the change inside. He smiles softly at your gesture, tucking it into the cardigan of his pocket. You both sit in silence, listening to the soft patter of rain outside as it begins to pour. You take in the old man before you, clearly he’d felt the passage of time from the rows upon rows of wrinkles embedded into his skin. Each telling a different story over the long course of his life by the way they cracked and curved. But one thing stood out from his typical elderly getup. An American flag pin crossed with an eagle on the other. Written beneath it WWII Veteran.
You blink, reaching out to touch it. He doesn’t stop you– letting you brush your fingers over it. A deep sigh leaves his lips, before a sad yet kind smile leaves his lips. “You want my story? The glory?” He asks, asking you in a repeated monotonous voice. Closing the book as he rests his hands over the book. You sit for a moment– recognizing the feeling. You may have been a pet to Ada, conditioned into a pet. But this man likely had seen horrors indescribable. “Yes. I’d like to hear it. But no glory. I want the raw truth.” You speak softly, careful not to flash your teeth too much in case anyone was looking. He leans back, huffing through his nose while turning it head towards the window where the rain was falling.
“The raw truth is too much, young lady. You shouldn’t burden yourself with such heavy things… I was one of the men caught by Nazi’s in the Gestapo after falling into the wrong area. Sent to Auschwitz. Hard work, little food and water. We saw too many die. Countless. Of my group of three, only I survived.” You both sit in silence, gently you reach out to hold his hand– which he gave a trembled squeeze in return. Mourning quietly in what words could not convey. He lets out a shuddered sigh, seemingly on the verge of tears. “People like me are revered for saving the modern world. But shun those like my son, who went to Vietnam and never came back like we had a choice. As if we weren’t tools for their fights they couldn’t face themselves. Children fresh out of high school sent off to kill another child barely out of school. Stripping us of whatever makes us human to send more bullets flying.” The elderly man lets out a humorless laugh, bringing his sleeve up to his eyes to dab away at the tears. You furrow your brows trying to contain your own. He eventually pulls away after patting your hand in a wordless thanks. Sitting in silence while you digested his words. “Whatever ails you now, I hope you live peacefully. Because while I have suffered greatly– I know that suffering is inevitable in our short times as humans. Sometimes we must face what is brought to us and endure. Hope is the only thing we as human beings can cling to. Foolish or not, it is what makes us equal. Thank you for hearing an old man ramble. It is truly often the quietest company that listens best.”
You merely smile weakly to him, offering a quiet ‘your welcome’ before shortly leaving. Sobbing into your hands in the alleyway behind the diner. You may have not known much about the world, but it was so vexingly beautiful at how complex it was. The old man’s words resonated with you. You, like him, had to endure so much. In your entire life, it was so isolating– even in your own head. Losing everything over and over again, but still you got up. Still you fought to live even when you wanted to die. But to feel, and share that suffering– you’d never felt more seen. No one held your hand when you killed your brother, no one told you it was OK to want to be normal. Umbrella had taken everything from you. Your sense of self, your dignity, and what made you human. Forced you to become the animals they had created just so you could survive.
But now that era of your life is gone. A chapter closed onto the new person you wished to be. You may not be able to live freely as you wished, you weren’t that naive. Forced to constantly dress like this and be on the move. But it was your choice– and no one else's. In a life that constantly chose for you, it was your first act of rebellion. It may not be the best choice, or even the worst. But it was a choice all together in a fresh new beginning, a toast to the future.
Standing up you walk deeper into the alleyway. Keeping your gaze cast down while it poured around you. Hearing a set of footsteps behind you, you pause. Turning to look at a flash of red, and a strike to your head– everything went black.
You wake up cold, dark, and a deep aching pain coming from your lower back. Trying to move in the familiar abyss surrounding your frame, a crack of light opens from above you. A long flight of stairs leading to the very woman you had given your heart too. Ada stares at you from the top, smiling coldly. With the kind of gaze you would give a dog for being disobedient. Walking down the stairs holding a tray, she watches as you try to pull away– only to end up choking on the chain around your nape. You look at her with pure horror, hands trembling as you bring your fingers to touch it. Ada brings her fingers over your jaw, grabbing both cheeks as she turns your head side to side. Her eyes piercing as she observed you like a specimen in a zoo. Something that needed to be pruned and plucked. Stored away for safe keeping.
“It's cute, really,” Ada begins, voice monotonous. Her amber eyes flickering over you as she finally pulls away. Sitting on the bed next to where you were currently chained. Her gaze trailing over the iron links– she reaches out towards it. Toying with it in her finger before yanking on it, forcing you to fall head first into her lap. Her nails running through your hair slow and harshly. You could feel the anger with each stroke. Like she was the one who was betrayed. That she hadn’t taken you off the street like the crazed lunatic she was. And it was utterly terrifying, watching her go from sickly sweet to utterly deranged. “You thought you could leave me? Thankfully you were so kind as to wear the choker.”
The choker? You blink once in confusion before an icy chill runs down your spine. The choker, the helicopter, her finding you– it was a tracker. You let out a scoff as tears run down your face, too shocked to truly cry in the moment as Ada hummed a lullaby while rocking you back and forth in her lap. Looking up you meet her gaze…
Had her eyes always been this serpentine?
Written by @flowers-in-mae 5/5/2026.
A/N: I already know the ending is dogshit. I'll fix it later its like 12 AM my time.
