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mychoombatheroomba · 4 months ago

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An Eye for An Eye

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 55

Leon and the squad grapple with the weight of their loss while you learn what you mysterious ally has given you.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Chapter Index

“You look like shit.”

Valeria had never been one to mince words. Whatever else had changed in the last week, that had remained the same. At least something had.

Leon wasn’t sure he wanted the company. He had gone outside to escape the droning fluorescent lights and ever-present eyes inside the CIA facility. He’d gone out to be where his thoughts could have a quiet place to wage their war. His friends should have brought him comfort.

He hated that they didn’t.

“Don’t worry, I feel worse.” His response was dry as his friend leaned against the wall beside him, sliding down to sit at his level. She hummed what might have been a laugh, once. Now, the sound was muted. A gray tone where once there had been vibrant color.

Leon could sympathize.

“Good to know we’re all in the same boat.” Dina lowered herself onto the ground at Valeria’s side, the three of them looking out towards the dimming sky.

The shorter of the two women scoffed, shaking her head. “Can’t fucking sleep. Every time I close my eyes, it’s just . . .”

She didn’t need to say it. Leon knew. Maybe that was why they’d sought him out. Maybe they hoped he’d have some advice. Some secret to help them through it all. As if he hadn’t been cursed with this for months now. Just when he’d thought he might finally be free of it-

“You guys hear the official story?”

Leon turned his head towards Dina, who looked up at the sky like she had a bone to pick with whoever was up there. He knew what she was talking about without having to ask. The base. How the Army would spin so many lives lost all at once.

“They, uh . . . they’re saying it was a fire that got out of control. Someone smoking without authorization. Summer heat, dry brush . . . fwoosh .” She motioned with her hands, then let out an empty laugh. “Probably easier that way. Don’t have to send home any bodies if they’re all ash.”

A fire. The same excuse used for Dorne base. More lies. More deaths kept hidden.

It was a bad joke.

“You know, they put all this money into this,” Dina droned, shaking her head, “training us to fight monsters, teaching us to spy and shoot and whatever else. And then none of it fuckin’ matters.”

“It’ll matter,” Leon shook his head, surprising himself. He sounded like you. Like you used to, before everything had crashed down around you all. He just wished he believed the words more. “It’s gotta mean something.” His life hadn’t been torn open and rearranged for no reason. You hadn’t been made to relive the worst night of your life for nothing. He had to believe that.

“I don’t think any of this means anything,” Williams shook her head, digging her heels into the dirt and pushing her legs out in front of her. “I don’t think watching your friends kill each other has some greater purpose behind it.”

“Dina,” Valeria spoke, her voice softer than Leon had ever heard it, “he wanted to go out on his own terms.”

It didn’t matter how right she was, though. The words, the memory of you lowering that gun, of that look of nothingness in your eyes, and a pool of crimson framing Logan’s head . . .

“Shouldn’t have had to, though,” Dina shook her head. “He should be right here, telling us some stupid shit about tanks, or singing fuckin’ Journey.”

The world blurred a bit, as tears stung at Leon’s eyes. He clenched his jaw tight. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t let it out, or he’d crumble. These last few days, he’d learned very quickly in the solitude of his room that once he started down that path, there wasn’t much that could stop it.

None of this should have happened. Leon almost spoke it aloud with a bitter laugh, feeling his heart beating at a faster pace. His mind running in desperate circles, trying to escape the thoughts that nipped at its heels. None of this should be like this.

All the wishing in the world wouldn’t change it, though.

“But he isn’t.” That was all Leon could manage to say.

Dina shook her head, her mouth pressed in a thin line. “But he isn’t.”

Silence blanketed them for a few long seconds, before the covers were torn off again.

“Sarge said anything about it?”

The question was meant for Leon. Who else? He was the one you spoke to most, before. If you would have said anything, it would have been to him. Should have been to him. As it was . . .

“No.” He couldn’t decide if he wished you had or not.

Dina didn’t look like she could decide, either. She bit at the inside of her mouth, shaking her head. “I know why it had to happen . . .” she said, nodding like she was trying to convince herself of it even now; that you putting a bullet in her friend’s head was the right thing to do. That it was mercy. “I just . . .” she just couldn’t fathom it.

Leon nodded in turn. “Yeah. I know.”

There was only so much rationalizing one could do. Only so many times a person could tell themselves that it had to be done. Leon knew he would either be broken by that fact or become numb to it. He wasn’t sure which one he dreaded more.

Nor was he able to dwell on it for long, before a figure approached, winding around the edge of the building. Leon and his companions looked up just in time to see a guard there, his face pulled into a tight expression. Leon didn’t even get to ask what brought him there before the guard spoke, gesturing for them all to stand.

“Everyone needs to come with me. Now.”

He didn’t hide it very well - the worry in his voice. The urgency.

“What happened?” Valeria asked, her eyes suddenly sharpening as she picked up on the new energy brought to the moment.

There was no real answer given, only a sense of looming dread as they were ushered back to their rooms. A sense of dread that was becoming all too familiar to Leon.

⧫⧫⧫

Fate hadn’t given you many of the things that you’d hoped for.

In fact, lately, it felt like life had been gorging itself on you, rather than practicing charity. What it had given, you found, had only led to hurt. Or it surely would. This would be no different. The gift you’d just been given would bring pain, but it was the kind you would gladly endure. You wouldn’t refuse something you craved with all your being - that you had paid for in blood and bruises and a breaking spirit. You gave in to a dark faith that now, finally, fate had thrown you a goddamn bone.

Not all those around you shared that sentiment.

Including you, there were five in the room - a room that was completely sealed off from the rest of the world. Simmons watched the room from the edges of it, twisting the gold ring on his thumb while he focused. Hellman and Benford were more focused on the computer screen in front of them. As for the fifth . . . you could never remember feeling so much weight behind Major Krauser’s gaze. He’d done a poor job of hiding his concern when you and Hellman explained what had happened. That concern had so quickly turned to rage, and you had wished you could return to being blind to the cause of it all. Things had been less complicated, then.

You wished a lot of things could go back to the way they had been.

But with no way to go but forward, you set your focus to the information in front of you. A hound being given a scent.

“I don’t like this.” Benford shook his head, the computer screen in front of him reflected in his glasses.

The images on it, the text . . .

Coordinates. Overhead images of an island - Kolguyev, it read. A sizable but mostly unoccupied piece of land in the Barents Sea. Russia. The island itself had a small town on one side, and on the other, a fenced perimeter. Four buildings were tucked in, surrounded by more open expanses of land. Ranges, you realized. You could see vehicles, even what looked like a tank, and well-carved pathways for them to use. It was a familiar layout even if you’d never seen the island before - you’d spent the last several months in places just like this, after all.

“It’s a training facility,” you breathed, your voice raspy. Crushed down to size by the man’s hand around your throat. A man who, it seemed, had given you a target.

It was all but confirmed when Benford scrolled down, and names and faces you didn’t recognize passed the screen. Service records, you realized, though not for any one country’s military. No, they were unified under a different banner.

𝚄𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎

𝙰𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝚁𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝙲𝚒𝚝𝚢

That was not surprising. Instead, what caught your eye was not who they served, but where they’d come from.

𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙺𝚘𝚕𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚎𝚟 𝙵𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢

Benford leaned back in his chair, his mouth set in a thin line.

His silence only served to fuel your anger. You weren’t alone in that.

“You said Reed was heading to Russia?” Krauser sounded just as viciously pleased as you were. It only made the senior agent at the computer more uncomfortable.

Benford nodded. Once. Reluctantly. “But there are Umbrella facilities all over the world. We don’t know-”

“We don’t have to know.” You straightened up, feeling something rise in you. Potential energy, the need to do something. And now, you’d been given a heading. “If this is a training facility, then we can start to level the playing field.” You could take from them what they’d taken from you: their future. And if Reed was there, then you could kill him. You could show him the failure of his cause as he died and-

“The risk is too high,” Benford shook his head. “Not when we have so little concrete information.”

“But you can get more information.” Krauser sounded almost as certain as you were, tearing open holes in Benford’s argument.

He’d taught you to press the offensive, so you did. “You wanted to fight Umbrella. You trained us to do that, and now what? You’re too scared to use the weapons you built?” You met Benford’s eyes, and felt some little satisfaction when you saw him waver under your stare.

His response was measured, even so. “It’s not that simple, Sergeant. It’s how we were given this information that concerns me.”

“You mean the man who broke your perimeter like it was made of tissue paper?” Krauser’s words bit hard into their target, as they so often did.

Benford just turned the attack into more ammunition. “Exactly. This man broke into our facility without issue. He overpowered you and Hellman both, and left just as easily. This kind of intel isn’t just given without motive.”

“Umbrella has enemies besides us,” Simmons pointed out, finally entering the conversation with a cool voice. “Their facility on Rockfort Island was destroyed by a paramilitary organization a few months ago, was it not?”

So Krauser hadn’t been given all the reports after all, because that name didn’t sound familiar to you. By his reaction now, it wasn’t because the Major had omitted any information when it came to you.

“It was,” Benford confirmed, “but I would argue that makes this more suspicious. Not less.”

It was Hellman who spoke next, incredulous. “If Umbrella has an enemy in that man, why is he not the one storming Kolguyev?” There was something to that, you supposed. He’d crushed a knife blade in his hand. Lifted you off the ground like you were nothing, and moved with a speed you couldn’t hope to match. Even so, even with all that power, he was handing this off to the likes of you. “He wouldn’t let us take him in for a reason. He’s setting us up to be pawns.”

“Does it matter?” you found yourself asking, the words not your own. Did it matter whose pawn you were, so long as Umbrella was dealt a blow?

Benford turned to you, already-present frown lines deepening. “There’s a good chance that this is a trap. If this is a training outpost, there will be soldiers there-”

Fire rushed through you, your gaze turned to a branding iron. “I’m counting on it.”

A laugh followed your declaration, and Simmons pushed off the wall. Satisfaction curled his lips into a smile. “ That right there. We need more soldiers like that if we’re to stand a chance against this corporation. Sometimes risks must be taken in a fight such as this one, and we need those who will do what it takes.”

“So glad you approve,” Krauser snarled under his breath, but the conversation went on as if he’d said nothing.

Benford snapped his attention to his fellow agent, then. “Derek, we don’t have many people who know about this conflict left. If this operation goes wrong, we could lose all of them.”

It was true. You knew it. This was enemy territory. No reinforcements, no solid intel, nothing to go on but what you held now. And it was worth it, for the exact reasons that Simmons spoke now. “And if this really is a training facility, if more records like these are available there and we got ahold of them,” he pointed his chin towards the screen, “then we could root out Umbrella’s personnel.”

People like Reed. People like the man who’d driven a knife into your gut, and the team that had been with him. If there was a chance you could find them - track them down . . .

“So send me.” The room turned towards Krauser, the Major pulling attention with his declaration. One forged in iron. One that embedded itself in your gut.

“By yourself, Major?” Simmons asked. The bastard had a talent for sounding patronizing, one that Krauser didn’t appreciate, if his biting tone was any indication.

“Benford’s right. You’re down too many men to send them. I’m the most experienced soldier you have who knows about all of this. One man has a better chance of not being spotted than a team.”

No. You felt a surge of something rise in you at the suggestion, because you knew how that would end. Whatever was happening with Krauser, whatever his feelings for you and however you felt in return, you knew that if he went out there alone, he would likely die.

That was unacceptable.

Even so, you stopped yourself from voicing that thought. You stopped yourself because all of the people in this room seemed to think that there was something between you and the Major. Something you couldn’t give credence to. You had to act as though you didn’t care, as though the man who’d saved your life, who’d given you so much, meant nothing to you.

So, just like with Alenko, you dug deeper into the hollow of yourself.

“So,” the Major went on, blue eyes boring into Benford’s own, “send me.”

The most horrifying part was that the men around you considered it. You could see them making the mental calculations. Better to lose one man than an entire squad, that was the brutal calculus of it. One that you couldn’t exactly argue.

“No.” Your focus snapped elsewhere, and you never, ever thought you would be grateful to Hellman of all people. Still, the agent, wielding the guilt you’d buried in his gut, went on. “You’re a good soldier, no one can deny that, but this is about infiltration. Information retrieval. That’s what I’ve been trained for.”

Krauser scoffed, somehow making a laugh sound dangerous. “You couldn’t even tell that your friend was an Umbrella plant.”

“Neither could you, Major,” Hellman reminded him. “Not until it was too late.”

“You watch your mouth-”

Hellman went on, undeterred. “I’m in the best position to make it right. I can scope things out and see what’s there.” It was an idea that sat with you no better than Krauser going alone. Not because you cared about Hellman’s safety, but because he didn’t deserve this vengeance, as far as you were concerned.

“Noble of you,” Simmons nodded, still twisting the gold band on his thumb, “but that doesn’t solve the problem of one man not being enough to take down an entire base. A small team could assess the facility covertly and then infiltrate it if need be,” he went on, eyes sharp as he planned.

“The Umbrella facilities we’re aware of thus far have always been more than they appear on the surface,” Benford pointed out. “There could be more than what’s depicted here. They would be on enemy territory, going in blind, fighting a force they’ve never faced before.”

“How fortunate then,” Simmons just went on, his fingers twisting his ring while his lips were twisted into a smile to match, “that we have individuals with experience in such matters. Individuals who understand the value of knowing one’s enemy, and will stop at nothing to take the fight to them.” He looked at you, then, with the expression of a man who gambled and won more often than not. A man who didn't mind betting, especially when he wasn't the one who stood to lose.

You didn’t mind that he was gambling with your life, though. Not so long as you got what you wanted.

The only trouble was that Simmons wasn’t the only player in this game.

“I don’t like the idea of sending just the two of them,” Benford said, another opinion added to the mix. One borne of mistrust - that much you could see plainly. You and Hellman were untrustworthy in his eyes, even now. You couldn’t blame him, you supposed; this mysterious man with too much information on Umbrella appeared out of nowhere and gifted you exactly what you needed. Anyone with a brain would find it suspicious.

You understood that, you truly did. The only trouble was, what you knew was coming next. What you felt in your bones.

“Kennedy has been inside Umbrella facilities before,” Benford went on, and it was clear to you then that fate had not, in fact, thought you’d paid the price for this gift. No, it demanded ever more. “And they worked well with Soto and Williams. That would keep the team small enough to avoid attention.”

Your jaw tightened as he spoke their names, eyes going wide, showing off the red that had crept in when your air was cut off.

But before you even had the chance to speak, Krauser huffed, incredulous. “Then I should go with them.”

“I would be inclined to agree,” Simmons took a moment to formulate his counter, “but you and Hellman here are the only two instructors we have left with knowledge of bioweapons.”

“You can just tell someone else. They just destroyed an entire base, it’s not like it’s going to be a secret forever.”

“The President has made it clear,” Benford said this time, “the fewer people know about all this, the better.”

It was a losing argument. A fight not worth spilling blood over. That didn’t stop Krauser, though. “You’ve got to be joking,” the Major shook his head, looking between you and Simmons. “You wanna send a bunch of shell-shocked rookies out there? You’ll get them killed.”

Simmons tilted his head to the side. “Many of these ‘rookies’ have service records before STRATCOM, Major. With the exception of Kennedy, I suppose. Though I would imagine his experience in Raccoon City makes up for that fact.”

“They’re not ready-”

“Are you implying that your training of them was insufficient?”

“Damn it, you’ve seen them!” He was talking about the entirety of your squad, but he looked at you. And in that moment, you had a realization: this wasn’t the Major you were used to seeing. In the last few months, he’d been a steadying force for you. A leader you could look to for guidance. Now, in this moment, all you saw was a scared man, clinging to whatever control he had left. Control that he’d given up the moment he gave you those reports. The second he admitted his guilt in doing so. “They’re afraid, and angry, and if you send people like that out there, they’re going to slip up. They’re going to get themselves killed.”

He’d told you so many times to never show weakness. To never bear your scars and wounds. Now, here he was, doing it without meaning.

A blunted blade would do them no good. Whether that was Krauser or Leon or you.

So, no matter how much you wanted to insist that Leon be left behind, that he wasn’t suited to this mission, you knew how that would look. You knew that, to Simmons, that would be blood in the water for him to scent and salivate on.

Not that it mattered what you or Krauser wanted, anyway. The decision was already being made, you could see it in Simmons’ eyes.

Leon’s fate and yours, your friends . . . you were all tied together. At least you could spare one person you cared about. He’d saved your life once, after all. You hadn’t expected to return the favor this way.

You hadn’t expected so many things.

“You’re angry, sir,” you said, finding your voice again, however hollow it may be. You’d seen many expressions on Krauser’s face that you’d never thought to see, lately. The surprise you were greeted with now, almost like betrayal, was one of them. He wasn’t the only one that had a claim to that betrayal. Still, you carried on, reminding him of a fact he should have known well. “Your judgment would be just as compromised.”

You’d never been on the receiving end of Major Krauser’s anger, really. Some part of you had hoped to never experience it. When faced with it now, though? You were surprised by how little it affected you. He’d taught you to face down worse though, hadn’t he?

“My judgment?” He asked, stepping closer. “You want to talk about emotion clouding judgment? All you’ve ever done is let what you’re feeling control you. The only reason you’re here is revenge. That’s it. You want to kill the people who took your Captain. Your friends-”

“Umbrella didn’t kill them,” you said, your expression blank as you stated the truth that had eaten away at you. The truth that had carved a well in you and taken up residence there. Because as much as Umbrella had turned your friends into monsters, as much as Reed and the man who’d driven a knife into you had done, they hadn’t pulled the trigger on Rain.

Or Reynolds.

Or Alenko.

“I did.”

Krauser, for once, looked disarmed. He stared at you - him and the other men in the room. Men who had either helped shape you into the dagger you were, or would wield you.

“I did what I had to do. And I will keep doing that, until Umbrella is buried.” That had been your vow, all those months ago. As you lay in a hospital bed, clutching a dog tag that would be all that remained of the man you considered a father. You’d lost sight of that goal, and the world had reminded you of it now. So, you looked at the computer screen in front of you, at the image of the base there. Your chance, not to make it right, but to strike a blow. “That’s all that matters.”

And to these men who would be your commanders, who would now dispatch you across the globe, hunting your targets, that was enough.

⧫⧫⧫

Hours passed, and still there were no answers. No justifications for why everyone had been taken back to their rooms, but it was all too clear to Leon that something had happened. The guards - rigid even on a good day - had been tight-jawed and tense as they’d guided Leon and the others towards their rooms. Something was wrong, because it seemed like something was always wrong, now.

The only question was: what?

That night, he was allowed to imagine just how wrong things were. By the time their cell doors were opened again, the worst possible scenarios had flooded his mind, memories amplified by a sudden and gruesome abundance of imagination. It didn’t amount to the horrors he feared. There was no attack. No undead.

All Leon was greeted with was a pair of eyes framed by glasses, set in the aging face of the man who’d ruined his life. “Agent Kennedy, if you’ll come with me, please.”

Agent Kennedy.

He was an agent now, wasn’t he? He’d passed his final test. He was theirs to send wherever they pleased.

Him and you, it seemed, because you stood just behind the agent, and you weren’t alone. Hellman, Dina and Valeria were there too, each of them looking like the hangman had called their names. Not you, though. You were stone, as you so often were.

Even with a handprint bruised onto your throat.

Leon felt sick to his stomach as he saw the mark, the skin on your throat turned a dark purple from the pressure of someone's grasp. He’d worn a bruise to match after Raccoon City, courtesy of the silent monster that had stalked him that night. That had come too close to killing him too many times.

That handprint had been larger than a human’s hand, though. The one on your throat could have belonged to anyone. Who then? Who had hurt you? Who had done this to you?

There were no answers to be found from Benford, who simply gestured for Leon to follow, before pausing a moment. “And if you may . . .” he held up his other hand, one that had been clenched at his side. One that, as his fingers uncurled, Leon realized held little plaques. Three sets of two, linked by chains, numbers and letters stamped into the metal. Three sets of two, and one chain that linked three plaques, the name REYNOLDS clear to Leon’s eye, just as your name was.

Their dog tags.

Benford was collecting them.

For a moment, Leon felt fear surge through him. With the group gathered before him, he worried that the feelings present among the group had finally been laid bare. He worried that, at last, their luck had run out and their places in STRATCOM had been taken as punishment.

As he hesitated, Benford spoke a clarification. One he sounded solemn about. “You’ll get them back when you return.”

“Return from where?” Leon felt numb even asking the question.

Benford didn’t look any more pleased as he took a breath in, but Leon saw your expression shift. You didn’t look up from the empty space you stared off into, but your eyes darkened all the same as the agent answered. “I’ll explain elsewhere, but . . . you have a target.”

A target.

A mission.

His first.

And wherever you were all going, your identities couldn’t follow.

He had little choice, so did as he was told and reached up to his neck. A moment later, his name was pressed down beside yours and those of his friends, hidden from view as Benford closed his fist around them.

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Chapter Index

Tag List: @greywardensaywhat @torchbearerkyle

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #jack krauser #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n #derek c simmons #adam benford

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jelybobik · 9 months ago

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Why can't you understand my … my love for you?

#resident evil #moodboard #icon resident evil #resident evil moodboard #re4 remake #resident evil 6 #resident evil ada wong #ada resident evil #re ada wong #ada wong #re6 ada #re6 #derek c simmons

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citrine-elephant · 1 year ago

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does he even know he's flirting

#resident evil #leon s kennedy #derek c simmons #re6 #digital art #suggestive #to keep this 'sfw' i drift off into 'shipping' stuff at work to keep myself entertained #this was out of nowhere and the thought of simmons doing the gordon ramsay face meme made me cackle (to myself)#i tried to mimic it and hey i had fun

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chrisitsraining · 1 year ago

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#having fun with polls again :)#dumdum hours #chris redfield #piers nivans #sherry birkin #leon s kennedy #helena harper #carla radames #derek c simmons #jake muller #finn macauley #ingrid hunnigan #resident evil 6 #re 6 #leon kennedy #derek simmons

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gigi-does-art · 6 months ago

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*Blows him up with my mind* This guy Simmons 😒 Decided to give him a design, since I plan to do some re6 related art so might as well. He was the bane of my existence while I was playing leon’s route but it was so fun just beating him up lmao. I actually ended up really liking the design I gave him, even though I absolutely despise him 😭 If Simmons has no haters, I am dead

Headcanon: His infected forms are at a smaller scale compared to in the games. Like his T-Rex form is instead a crocodile or monitor lizard. His bug form is still just a giant fly though lol

#derek simmons #derek c simmons #resident evil #my art #catified #design #catified design #catified resident evil #his design did not need to come out this good im upset 😭#i would try to say more about him but i would just end up going on rant on how much i hate him lmaoo #but yeah here he is i guess #simmons you will never be my favorite character 🤺#i did think his mutated forms were interesting though-#that’s it tho-#anyway back to the re7 designs lol

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alicethepiper · 9 months ago

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i just found out derek simmons' middle name is "clifford" and that's so fucking funny - god pls put me and bestie in re6 so we can each, respectively, laugh at him for that

#resident evil #the c if for clifford #resident evil 6 #derek simmons #thats hilarious #“derek clifford simmons” does not roll off the tongue effortlessly #but it does make me laugh immediately #if i was ada i would laugh at him #if i was leon or helena i would laugu at him #if i was anyone i would laugh at him #u cant be named clifford and also be a big bad villain #im sorry #all i can think about is the dog #deranged ramblings

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crimescrimson · 1 year ago

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The Good Deeds Of Ada Wong: Saving Lives

| Ada Destroys Carla's Work |

#crimson's gifs: resident evil #Resident Evil #RE #RE6 #Resident Evil 6 #Theme: The Humanisation Of Ada Wong #Ada Wong #C-Virus #Derek C. Simmons #Carla Radames #This was such a good finale. Shows she is very human and also a victim in all of this despite it all and is rightfully angry #She was cloned. Almost killed numerous times. Had her identity stolen and blamed for so many deaths #and what did she do? She saved countless lives. Over and over again.#Just like she always had.#She didnt have to save Leon in Raccoon while barely knowing him at all. She didn't have to save Ashley. Or Helena. Or Sherry and Jake.#She didn't need to save those civillians but she did.#Because unlike what everyones painted her as. She isn't. fucking. heartless.#Series over until they bring her back. Thanks for sticking through it!!

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n-eptunia · 1 year ago

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Resident Evil 6 (2012)

#resident evil #reviledit #edit #biohazard #re #games #gaming #re6 #resident evil 6 #helena harper #deborah harper #derek c. simmons #myedits #my edits

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buddiesronance · 2 years ago

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will forever hate the writers for making spencer kiss the person who mentally ab*sed him 😐

#if you couldn’t tell #i’m a c*t anti through and through #will forever hate her 🤞#spencer reid #criminal minds #emily prentiss #tara lewis #derek morgan #penelope garcia #luke alvez #jennifer jareau #matt simmons #aaron hotchner #david rossi #elle greenaway #jason gideon

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illuzijan · 7 months ago

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I'm never explaining the plot better than this. re6

#resident evil #resident evil 6 #re6 #carla #carla radames #derek c simmons

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knifefightandchill · 1 year ago

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who do you think would ultimately when in a fight?

saddler, simmons, or wesker?

I know this is a joke ask, but I’ve legitimately put thought into this. Also coming from your armand blog makes this question so much better. Also the fact that you said when not win.

I’ve been wracking my brain over this all night long, because every time I think I have a solid answer, something changes my mind.

Because there are so many different factors and scenarios that could come into play. Especially when it comes to Wesker. Like are we talking just prototype virus? His injections in 5? full blow Uroboros Wesker? Does he have any resources? Like he’s a wild card. Is this DBD? Do I have to think about eldrich horrors??

So, let’s break this up into multiple parts; Saddler vs. Wesker, Saddler vs. Simmons, Wesker vs. Simmons, and the massive mess that would be all 3 at once.

Before we get into the the fun part, I wanna go over like their respective abilities and mutations ahead of time to make it simpler.

Starting with Lord Saddler.

(and I will be taking RE4R into account.)

We’ve got his human form, his final boss form, and the giant wreathing tentacle mass that is his final final form. He's also able to mutate parts of himself on a whim, and quickly go back.

With his human form he’s extremely fast, has a healing factor that allows him to not only heal literal headshots in a matter of seconds, but shoot projectiles back at assailants. When he wants. He’s very resilient. and terrifying.

His ability to call and bring in novistadors in both his human and final boss form makes for some really useful backup.

In his final boss form he’s slower, but massive, and can jump pretty fucking high. He's got sharp points at the end of his spider-y legs and those sharp boney tentacles at his disposal. Sure his weakspot is out in the open, but he can also crush people with the pincers(??) on his head.

The final final form is a massive immobile mass of writhing leviathan sized tentacles. Those can pack a punch by simply slamming down into things. Granted, he's the most vulnerable in this form.

Now onto Mr. Bolo tie, Simmons.

With enhanced C-Virus, Simmons has the ability to mutate indefinitely, and without the need to turn into a chrysalis like with regular C.

He can shift/shuffle back and forth to his human form regardless of a couple of his forms. which is both useful and a really really big disadvantage. Makes it easy to kick the shit out of him.

So, that being said, his notable mutated forms are beast/centaur, gigantosaurus, and the giant fly. The first being very fast, and able to shoot projectiles. Plus claws and all that. The second is well, a big ass B.O.W. dinosaur. He's big, has some bone plating, and has some really big teeth. Imagine dinosaur things, he can do those.

Without zombies or something to consume in order to heal and mutate further, I don’t think his giant fly form is applicable. Though maybe he could eat novistadors? if it came to that? But regardless, it has its sheer size going for it. we need really really big fly tape.

And now the ball of worms that is Wesker.

After injecting the Prototype virus, Wesker gained super human abilities. He can move so fast that it looks like he’s warping. He’s strong enough to punch a hole through a person’s chest, and catch and hold back rockets. What were the developers of RE5 on.

Being very skilled in both armed and unarmed combat, his melee is just as strong if not stronger than weaponry. If we look at him in Mercenaries, and Rev:2 raid mode, he’s a force to be reckoned with. especially with that big knife.

Throw Uroboros in the mix and things really start heating up.

It makes him bigger, even stronger, and gives him so many worms. Err, tentacles?? Tendrils?? Uroboros is one of those nasty viruses that consumes all organic matter it comes in contact with, and uses it to grow.

Wesker, however, doesn’t really use it in that manner? But I imagine it’s painful for others just getting touched by it.

Uroboros also makes Wesker extremely resilient and resistant to most damage. This man had to take a rocket launcher to the face in order to die, despite sinking in literal lava. So this generally unstable virus gives him one hell of an advantage. But does he really need it to be a threat in this fight?

So lets get into it finally !!

Saddler Vs. Simmons;

So ultimately, I think Simmons would win.

They’re relatively evenly matched, I don’t think it would be hard for Saddler to handle Simmons’ centaur form. He has the speed, the ability to throw his projectiles right back at him. Doing enough damage would cause Simmons to shuffle back to normal, which makes him really vulnerable. Even if Saddler had to mutate, his final boss form could deal with him easy. But Simmons always comes back.

Gigantosaurus Simmons has the upper hand. Most of his head is just a giant mouth with some big teeth.

He also has a lot of bone on him, which helps him get some defense. Final boss Saddler is all limbs and tentacles. One good bite from Simmons can cripple him. I think it’d take more than one bite to rip off a piece of him, but biting and tearing is still going to do damage. Sure, Simmons’ weak point is in his mouth; but aiming for that comes with the risk jaws closing around said tentacles.

If Saddler is able to do enough damage to cause Simmons to shuffle back into a human, then he could crush him or impale him easily. However, it’s a matter of can he do that much damage fast enough? Before he goes down? Or is badly hurt? The odds would be super close. BUT. He keeps coming back.

Saddler wouldn’t be doing too hot by the time he turned into a fly, and sure, that form isn’t as strong, Simmons’ attacks are really meh. But it’s fresh, it’s at full health, and I think our dear lord would be limping into that fight.

It’d be bloody and long and close, but I think Simmons would come out on top. Based solely on his dinosaur form and having whittled Saddler down over time.

Saddler Vs. Wesker

Against Saddler’s human form, Wesker could hold his own without weaponry. It wouldn’t be easy, Saddler’s ability to heal alone would be a massive pain. With weaponry, even if it was just a gun and a knife, he’d do infinitely better. I do think Saddler would be able to get the drop on him like he did with Ada though, in the right circumstances. Then he can dangle him and lure chris into a fight.

As far as final boss form goes, Wesker can hold his own for a while without weaponry, but he wouldn’t win. Saddler is too big, and too strong. Honestly, it’d be a really long game of cat and mouse. With weaponry, even just a knife and a handgun, he’d win. Listen, if Leon could do it, Wesker can do it easier and better.

If he was infected with uroboros, then it would be a more intense and interesting fight. Both have ranged attacks involving tentacles/tendrils. Despite still being a lot smaller than Saddler’s boss form, his amplified physical strength would put him on same level regardless of body size. Not to mention he becomes much more resilient against attacks. It’s a matter of out-surviving the other one.

I think Wesker would ultimately win. He’d find a way regardless.

Simmons Vs. Wesker.

The same thing applies when it comes to him vs. Simmons. If Leon can do it, Wesker can do it even better. Granted in this case, Leon needed help. So I’m keeping that in mind. Without uroboros, Wesker would need weapons of some sort and a way to use the environment to his advantage. Especially against the dinosaur form. Because it does have that armored plating, and only has one weakpoint.

His speed would help him dodge centaur projectiles, as well as rush attacks, also any stomping done by the dinosaur form. But doing damage to his stronger mutations is where he falls short. Or at least, doing damage quickly. Uroboros would put him on equal footing. He’s a smaller target than Saddler, a bit harder to get. Has some good ranged attacks that can chip away at his defenses. And the best part? Simmons can bite off his tendrils. It wouldn’t hurt Wesker. Sure he’d have to reabsorb the pieces, but it wouldn’t hurt him. Hell they could start truing to consume Simmons if he doesn’t spit them out.

And once Simmons shuffles back down to a person? He’s going to get wrecked. Even if he manages to reach his fly form. It just might take Wesker a little longer.

All 3 of them in one giant fight;

It’d be one giant mess, and honestly someone should just nuke the whole thing. Wesker wouldn’t win, he’d get away to survive. Saddler and Simmons? That’s a fight to the death. A big bloody fight.

In conclusion;

Wesker is OP. When I started writing this whole thing I didn’t think it would be Wesker. In fact I was almost certain it would be Simmons. Sorry Saddler :c ily. but after looking into things, Wesker really stood out.

A great litmus test for this is if Leon can kill it, it’d be a lot easier for Wesker to do so.

Ultimately, I’m no expert. I’ve confused myself so many times while writing this, and I’m sure there’s contradictions. But I still had fun with it and put some thought and research into it.

If you made it this far thank you! I hope you enjoyed it, or found it interesting.💕💕

I really love questions like this, and sharing my thoughts. (even though I go overboard.) And if anyone wants to weigh in with their thoughts, opinions, headcanons and all that, please do! It’ll be a fun conversation. I’m also down for more asks like this ngl xD

dividers are by saradika-graphics who can be found here!

#asks #meta #listen i can't guarantee next time i get an ask like this i'll go this crazy with it but there's always a chance!!!#also listen i had to make the little graphic for it because i've had those clanmaster pictures for ages #derek c simmon #albert wesker #osmund saddler #sorry for any like big grammatical errors i have been up aaaaaallllll night with this and i really wanna get it out into the world #re

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blankfairy · 2 months ago

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and you know it's never coming back

Only after seven sunrises, twenty-one meals, and sixty-something pills later does the edge of his absence soften. Something scrapes at the inside of his skull. Shaves away the harsh points and corners and pain; the licker that crippled him, that’s been stalking him since that awful night in Raccoon City, slinks into a crack in the wall and doesn’t come back; not-Wesker looks more and more like dead Wesker each meal, but the sight of him doesn’t scare Finn anymore. He’s not sure why it ever did.

Summary: In custody of the U.S. government and Derek Simmons, Finn struggles to adapt to life after Raccoon City.

Characters: Original Male Character, William Birkin (kind of), Derek C. Simmons.

Warnings: Irresponsible drug use/addiction.

Note: Wrote this like... forever ago to vent and never published it. But. Here it is! Want to write something new soon but my mind just can't get there ):

Read on AO3!

There’s stale coffee, tea, and two bottles of pills of Finn’s countertop when he enters his new room for the first time.

He thumbs over the labels. Both have his name, but he only remembers being prescribed one. Vicodin. Effexor. Both for each kind of pain.

Some cocktail, Finn thinks distantly as he unscrews the caps of both, plucks three pills from each, and downs them with sink water. He checks the mini fridge for liquor and comes up dry.

There’s no TV and one shelf with three books to read. A window sits above the stiff-sheeted bed, though the blinds are angled upward, and only open an inch anyhow. Finn lies beneath it for the first hour, watching the shadows of clouds and airplanes dapple the ceiling as his stomach clenches ungratefully around the pills. He wants to vomit. The angry throbbing of his ankle keeps it down.

Time passes in fragments. Three meals a day, every five hours. Six pills every eight. Sometimes more if the pain grows unbearable, or if William sits too heavily on the mind. The same shade-eyed agent greets Finn at the door each meal. He says nothing, doesn’t smile, doesn’t blink. Each time Finn sees him, he finds something of Wesker’s in his face. The cut of his jaw, the quirk of his brows, a lingering look. Every new discovery prompts another pill.

He tries not to think of William. He tries to bury every memory he worked so hard to engrave in his mind. The freckles he had before NEST. The bump hiding in the bridge of his nose. His laughs, his cries, the soft sighs he made when so, perfectly, contented. Finn’s secrets. Their secrets.

He and William share a wall and are a thousand miles apart.

Simmons comes to him on the eighth day. The slats on the window let in just enough light to bathe the room in slitted sun, obscuring his figure into something big and blurry and black. Not-Wesker stretches behind him. The door shuts.

Dr. Bondevik?

His voice is muffled, somewhere far away. Finn stares up at him from the edge of the bed. He’s been sitting there since his last meal the night before, long enough to grow roots and vines and entangle himself into his sheets and the fibers in the carpet. Something hot coils around his ankle, worms its tendrils into the heat of the stitched wound living there.

“Simmons…” Finn drawls. “My… Will you…?”

He can’t raise his voice above a dry whisper, nor his arms, but nods his head towards the countertop. Simmons doesn’t move. Not-Wesker slinks away like a shadow and returns with the bottles of pills. Finn unearths his hands and swallows three from each. Simmons’ frame flickers like a flame.

He speaks again, but not to Finn. The garbled inflection of his voice turns hard, angry. Wesker snaps back. Finn shifts and quivers in the non-existent breeze.

Simmons’ voice catches on the wind. How many have you taken?

“Three,” Finn answers. “Each. Every… When the pain gets bad…” He looks at Wesker, tall and lean and dressed in black like always. Of course he’d wear the same in the grave.

Three-quarters of the bottles are gone.

“I thought we were done, Dr. Wesker.” Finn smooths his hands over all the roots and vines growing from and around him, holding him down, ripe for the slaughter. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

Finn blinks and he’s on his back, the sun gone and his chains wilted around him. A sliver of light peeks from beneath the door; shadows of boots, patter of footsteps, dizzied chatter. A mountain rises and falls beneath the sheets beside him. Finn peels them back.

Sand-blond hair and freckles and a bumped nose greet him. His eyes are closed, and they don’t open when Finn curls a hand around his neck and feels the cold nothingness of his skin. It’s slimy-cool like congealed blood, plasticky under his fingers, but close enough. Finn presses a kiss to his temple, pulls him close, and shuts his eyes, too.

#james writes #resident evil #resident evil 2 #resident evil oc #oc: finley bondevik #ship: won't you stay with me one more day?#william birkin x oc #william birkin #derek c. simmons

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