#every time i get to the end of RE4 i'm just like 'please. please go see a doctor and get some sleep. good gawd.' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bigtittybitch514 · 2 years ago

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Something in the Way

“If you're alive, raise your hands,” a male voice commanded. You obeyed, slowly lifting your arms in the air.

"Would it count if I said I was dead on the inside?"

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This is my first fanfic, just felt compelled to write! :)

I’m probably going to make this a series, which will go all the way to RE4. There will be fluff! There will be angst! There will be smut! (eventually). I love slow burns and try to be lore accurate, and as non-ooc as possible. I haven’t actually played the game bc i get too scared, but I watch the hell out of gameplay and read wikis and blah blah. It’s hard to fully grasp locations admittedly when you haven’t played the game before, so I fully admit that it’ll be gray in that area. Anyway... enough about me.

(a little bit about you, I’ve given you a bit of a past just to correlate with the story, at the end of the day: I want you to think about yourself or your own characters)

no y/n

RE2, then RE4 later

she/her pronouns

you are 20+

TW there will be mentions of gore, violence, and blood!

3.3k words

You're headed to Raccoon City to search for your estranged mother, but little did you know that chaos awaits you. On the bright side, a charming rookie cop may just be a pleasant surprise along the way.

D-DAY/ CHAP 1.

"My darling daughter,

As I write this, I feel the end coming near. I'm so sorry for not being there for you when you needed me most. Life got in the way, and I made mistakes that I deeply regret. I hope you can forgive me. Please know that I love you more than words can express, and I'm so proud of the person you have become. You're strong, kind, and compassionate, and I know you will make the world a better place.

As I face the end, I need you to promise me something. Please do not go looking for me or try to find me. I need you to focus on your own safety and survival. You are strong, and I believe in you.

Remember that I will always love you, and I will always be with you in spirit. Please take care of yourself, my love.

With all my heart,

Mom"

That was the email you received in your Hotmail account this afternoon. You had read it over and over again until it burned into your memory, reciting it in your mind to ensure that you would never forget it. You tried to reply, asking your mother what was happening and what she meant, but there was no response.

Admittedly, you were not very close to your mother. After a nasty divorce, you went to live with your dad in Washington, and since then, she had faded in and out of your life like a distant memory. Some "Happy Birthday" calls, "How's school going?" emails, and "I miss you" letters were all you had of her since you were 13 years old. It hurt like utter hell.

But every time she called, you answered, and she gave you updates on her life. Whenever she wrote, you reciprocated. You went back and forth with yourself on whether or not you should respond until the aforementioned email popped up.

Unfortunately for you, "do not go looking for me" was enough to trigger your stubborn heart to do exactly what she didn't want you to do. You had always been headstrong, "got it from your father," your mom always used to say. You weren't sure what her email meant, and you sure as hell didn't like what it was implying. Was she dying? Dying from what? Why? Her email left you with nothing, no proper closure. Your chest ached.

Was it too late? Would you ever see her again? Would you ever reconcile? You never even got the chance to forgive her.

Even if you didn't remember much about her, you at least knew where she lived and what her job was. Mom was a pharmacist for the Umbrella Corporation in Raccoon City, over by the Arklay Mountains. She moved there not long after the divorce and has worked there ever since. She didn't speak much about her job, though you also never probed about it either.

What is there to question about a pharmacist job anyway? “Hey, you ever filled a months supply of Viagra?” Does Viagra even get prescribed? You’re not sure.

Soon after receiving the email, you made your way towards the industrial city as quickly as possible. The drive usually took about 10 hours, but you managed to make it in 7 ½ hours by driving like a madman. You were worried about getting pulled over, but luckily, it seemed like no police officers wanted to do their job today.

The drive through the mountains was breathtakingly beautiful, yet nerve-wracking. The twists and turns were treacherous enough during the day, but as dusk turned into the dark of night, they became even more terrifying. To make matters worse, rain began to fall in sheets, pounding the roof of your dad's beat-up old truck with an incessant din. You couldn't help but curse aloud at how this great scenic drive was being ruined.

Your old wipers were no match for this kind of weather, and as soon as you got close enough to the city, you decided to make a pit stop. Your ass was aching too, and the next exit sign indicated a gas station to the left of the freeway. You turned on your blinker and merged onto the exit intersection, eager to stretch your legs and relieve yourself. Your plan was to fill up your gas tank, grab a few snacks for the rest of the ride, and be on your way.

As you approached the gas station, the bright lights illuminated the area like a birthday cake in a dark room. You pulled up quickly, eager to get out of the rain. Parking your truck on the opposite side of a Jeep Wrangler, you found it strange that there was no one inside or outside the vehicle. But you didn't think much of it and stepped out of your jalopy, using your arm to shield your eyes from the downpour.

As you made your way to the pump, you noticed that the gas station was also empty, with no lights on inside. This was starting to feel a little fishy. You looked back at another car and saw that it too was empty. Something was definitely not right here.

And then you saw it.

Blood.

Dark red blood was splattered all over the concrete beneath your feet.

"What the fuck?!" you exclaimed in shock and horror.

In the distance, a piercing screech cried out like something straight out of a horror movie, and it made your blood run cold. Your heart was racing as you frantically looked around, trying to locate where the sound may have come from. Your mind raced with possibilities, but nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to see.

And then you saw them. Maybe ten of them. Dead bodies, shuffling towards you in a grotesque parody of life. Their flesh was rotting, their skin hanging off their exposed muscles in ragged strips. The stench of decay was overwhelming, and bile rose in your throat as you tried not to vomit.

As they drew closer, you could see the extent of their injuries. Some had chunks of flesh missing, exposing their bones and organs. Others had been shot or stabbed, leaving gaping wounds that oozed with pus and blood. And yet, despite their injuries, they kept coming towards you, their eyes fixed on you with a hunger that made your skin crawl.

You tried to back away, but your legs felt like they were made of stone. You were rooted to the spot, paralyzed with fear as the undead creatures moved closer. Your heart pounded in your chest, your breaths coming in short gasps as you desperately tried to think of a way out. The zombies were moving closer, their decaying fingers reaching out to grab you, it felt like their rancid breath was almost hot on your face.

Holy fucking shit.

Suddenly, your body moved before you could think, hands shaking as you fumbled with the keys before finally jamming them into the ignition. "Come on, come on, come on," you muttered frantically to yourself. The engine roared to life, and you slammed the truck into reverse, feeling the impact as you hit a few of the undead behind you, their putrid flesh smearing across the back windshield.

Without hesitation, you hit the gas and plowed through the horde in front of you, sending limbs and gore flying in all directions. Tears streamed down your face as you screamed in terror, the sound muffled by the roar of the engine. It was all too much, too real. Your father's voice echoed in your head, telling you to be strong, not to cry.

But you couldn't help it. The sobs wracked your body, making it hard to breathe. You forced yourself to slow down, to take deep, shuddering breaths in and out, trying to regain control. The road ahead stretched out, empty and silent, and you drove on, heart pounding in your chest, praying that you would make it to Raccoon City alive.

---

The drive to Raccoon City was eerily silent. The usual sound of music blaring from the speakers was absent, and the only thing you could hear was the hum of the engine. Your hands clutched the steering wheel so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You tried to shake off the fear that had gripped you earlier, but it was no use. Those things you encountered were like nothing you had ever seen before.

You desperately searched for a logical explanation to what you had witnessed. Was it a flash mob? A sick prank? But deep down, you knew those weren't plausible explanations. As your thoughts raced, your thumbs drummed nervously on the steering wheel. Was this what your mom was warning you about? Despite everything, you knew you had to find her. She was still your mother, and you were determined to reunite with her.

It was about a half an hour before you arrived in the city. It was a harrowing scene, a city in utter chaos. The streets were littered with abandoned cars, some still smoking, as embers licked the sides of buildings. The once bustling city now looked like a warzone. And in the midst of it all were the undead, their groans and moans filling the air. A repeated message to survivors blared on speakers, urging them to head over to the police station as soon as possible. Your heart raced as you wondered if your mother was there.

As you drove through the chaos, your truck garnered much attention. Its engine roared and headlights pierced through the darkness and rain. You couldn't help but think back to your father's strict parenting and the basic combat and defensive training he instilled in you. He was an army veteran who raised you to be fearless, and you couldn't let him down now. Even though it had been years since you had thoroughly practiced, you knew how to defend yourself if necessary.

But as you drove through the chaotic streets, you couldn't shake off the feeling of terror that had gripped you since you first saw the walking dead. You were determined to find your mother, but the fear of not making it to the police station in one piece was starting to weigh on you.

You frantically scour the old truck for anything that could aid in your survival: a car jack, McDonald's wrappers, and your backpack. Nothing seems particularly helpful, except for the backpack. You realize that it might come in handy if you needed to carry supplies like water, herbs, or even a weapon while searching for your missing mother.

As the walking corpses pound and scratch at your vehicle, you feel the truck shake violently. You know it's time to make a run for it. Although you don't have a solid plan, you've had years of self-defense training and are confident in your ability to use your legs and elbows to fight off attackers.

You pray to God, if they exist, that you'll find something to defend yourself or that you'll have enough skill to make it out alive. You put on the backpack and with a swift kick, you shatter the back window and scramble onto the roof.

Now, you need to find the police department. But where the hell could it be?

As you shield your eyes from the pouring rain, you scan the area, thinking of heading north in the hopes of finding a clue to guide you in the right direction. To your surprise, your truck wasn't that far from the sanctuary. A large brick gate with the letters "RPD" above it caught your eye, the light shining behind the sign like an angel was paving the way for you. The fence was made of sturdy brick, and the gates were steel. You just hoped they were open for entry.

You bravely leap off the top of the vehicle and make a beeline for the gates, the creatures screeching and reaching their arms towards you. As they try to grab hold of you, you execute a swift and powerful kick, sending one of them flying into a nearby bus and breaking its neck at a disgustingly awkward angle.

Ew.

As you barely escape the grasps of the monsters, you finally reach the gates, but guess what?

They're fucking locked.

Shit! What are you supposed to do now?

You frantically search for an alternative entry point, dodging zombies left and right, shoving and kicking them aside as you go. Finally, you spot a fire escape on the adjacent side of the building that leads up to the second floor, which appears to be zombie-free from your current vantage point. However, the fire escape is not easily accessible as it's about 50 feet away and you're on solid ground. But just then, you notice a tree next to the window swaying in the wind, creating a potential opportunity for you to reach the fire escape.

You sprint towards the majestic tree, grateful for its existence as it becomes your savior in this moment of peril.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you desperately cling onto the slick wood with your fingertips, refusing to look back at the grotesque monsters that hungrily pursue you. Your muscles strain and ache as you haul yourself up through the slick and treacherous branches. Panic overtakes you as you inadvertently step on a brittle branch, causing it to snap beneath your weight. Time seems to slow as you teeter on the edge of disaster, but you manage to grab onto a sturdier branch just in the nick of time, your heart pounding in your chest as you gasp for air. As you climb further up the tree you see your opportunity to move towards the ledge of the fire escape.

Three…Two…One…Go!

You make a daring leap towards the fire escape, and for a moment, time seems to stand still as your eyes fixate on the dizzying drop beneath you. But your body moves on instinct, your fingers grappling for the metal bars with a desperate grip that tightens with the surge of pure adrenaline. You manage to catch hold of the bars, your fingers aching from the impact, but you cling on for dear life. You push your body forward, lifting yourself up and over the metal railing.

Before you know it, your knees give out as they hit the metal bars beneath you, your body succumbing to the intense exertion you just went through. Despite being accustomed to physical exhaustion, the experience of genuine fear was traumatic. You realize that your life could have ended in mere seconds if you had made one wrong move. Once you get back home, if you do, you'll definitely be discussing this with your therapist.

Your feet feel uncomfortably squishy in your Chuck Taylors, learning the hard way that the cloth shoes are definitely not made for running in this kind of weather. The rain is relentless, and you can feel your socks getting soaked through. You hope the powers that be don't bless you with trench foot by the end of this horrifying adventure.

---

You peer through the shattered window of the second floor, noticing the broken glass strewn about the darkened halls of the police station. The only source of illumination is the faint glow of moonlight. It's no surprise that the place looks abandoned. You take a moment to break off the remaining shards of glass, careful not to cut yourself on the sharp edges. With a roll of your jean jacket sleeve, you scrape off the remaining slivers of glass before cautiously sliding yourself through the window. As you land inside, you can't help but be hit by the putrid odor of death. The walls are adorned with blood and the lifeless bodies of the fallen, as if a deranged artist had been given free reign of the building.

You make every effort to remain silent, as the last thing you want is to alert any zombies that might be lurking inside the building.

As you scan the area, your eyes catch sight of wooden planks scattered on the ground, nails jutting out from their undersides. Someone must have tried to use them to barricade the windows, but it didn't seem to have worked out well. The darkness was all-encompassing, making it nearly impossible to see anything, despite your eyes adjusting to the dim environment. You do make out a staircase adjacent to the window, but the idea of ascending to the third floor seems uncertain given your lack of knowledge of the building's layout. You need to think fast and find a weapon.

Onwards then!

Silently navigating through the bloodied and cluttered halls, you cautiously avoid tripping over any obstacles that could give away your presence. Bodies of officers lay scattered on the floor, their once-protective uniforms now torn and blood-stained. Many of them had been infected and turned into zombies, their lifeless eyes staring off into the distance. As you survey the scene, you notice some of the bodies had gunshot wounds, while others had knives still embedded in their chests. It was clear that this area was now zombie-free only because someone had taken the time to exterminate them, but the question lingered in your mind: who could have done it?

After some time, you stumble upon a staircase leading downwards. You contemplate descending to the first floor, hoping to find something of use in the main hall. So far, you've scavenged through numerous bodies, but none of them had any usable firearms. However, you did find plenty of bullets, which could come in handy later on. Another curious detail you noticed was the abundance of red and green herbs scattered throughout the building. It was almost comical how many medicinal plants were growing in a police station, but in this apocalyptic world, you knew their healing properties could make all the difference.

As you searched a corpse, the beam of a flashlight suddenly appeared on the wall in front of you, casting your silhouette in the middle of it. Your heart racing, you froze, realizing someone was behind you. The sound of a gun being cocked only added to your anxiety.

“If you're alive, raise your hands,” a male voice commanded. You obeyed, slowly lifting your arms in the air.

You attempted to make light of the situation, hoping to ease the tension. "Would it count if I said I was dead on the inside?" you chuckled, but the fear still lingered.

You heard a small snort of laughter from the man behind you, which made you think that maybe he wasn't as serious as he seemed. It was a welcomed sound in a tense situation. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up.

"It's okay, you can turn around. I put away my gun. I'm an officer, well, I was supposed to be."

You noticed a hint of melancholy in his voice, but his tone was also encouraging. Still, you kept your hands up just to be cautious. When you finally turned around, the industrial flashlight shone in your eyes, causing discomfort. You shielded your eyes immediately.

"Ah, damn, sorry!" He scrambled to turn the flashlight away from you.

Despite the dim lighting, you could make out the silhouette of a man in front of you. He towered over you and was clad in a vest adorned with more pockets than you could count, like some sort of real-life action figure. His uniform looked like SWAT gear, vest emblazoned with the letters "RPD" that you assumed stood for the police department. As he drew closer, a musky scent mixed with the unmistakable metallic odor of blood wafted towards you, making you wrinkle your nose. You couldn't help but notice the dried blood and grime splattered across his torso, arms, and even the front of his legs. It was pretty clear that this guy was the one responsible for taking down the zombies that had been lurking around the station.

“My name is Leon, Leon Kennedy. And yours?”

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #re2 remake #re2 #leon x reader #leon x y/n #resident evil #re4 #fluff #re 4 remake #re 4 #hopefully one person will at least read this but most likely i'll still work on it if no one does LMAO #am gonna post this on ao3 too once i get approved for the invite

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kingflups · 7 months ago

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FOR THE ASK GAME!! :DD

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises?

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises?

I like surprises! I don't get them often, but I think they're a blast. I usually complain if somebody springs something big on me I have to travel for, but I usually enjoy whatever it is-- I mostly just like the talk. But yeah! I like surprises

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

Make enough food for leftovers!! I'm grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking, you HAVE to make enough for leftovers. Make food for your friends. Surprise people with food. I am such a firm believer that food is a sign of love, for yourself, for others.... make food that you love! Love yourself!! Make enough to bring to work and to have when your sad! Get really into sandwiches! Just. love food? In every way you can. It's good for your brain, good for your heart, good for stomach.

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

I really don't like Lady D. She annoys the fuck out of me actually. She clogs up the resident evil tag, I don't like a lot of her fans energy... She's just fine, and she gets too much hype for being big, evil and hot. Listen. I'm a lesbian. I love women. She's hot. But I think she gets too much energy from the fanbase considering she's a essentially a miniboss, and frankly, a pretty flat one. Beyond her relationship with her daughters, there's not a lot to her. I don't care for RE8 anyway (I think it tries to do too much, and in having so many antagonists, doesn't give any of them time to properly shine. Having a beef between the siblings is a fun dynamic, Mother Miranda is aesthetically incredible... none of it changes the fact a lot of them would have benefited from being in different games)

I would so much rather that energy goes to any of the other resident evil woman. It's insane that when I try to find and saphic content for the fandom, an insane amount of it is self-insert ship art with Lady D! Not to hate on anyone who selfships, that's fun as hell, but with ANYONE ELSE, please.

Also. Might do a post about Mia later because I'm thinking about themes of motherhood again. Honestly, the only reason Lady D works in RE8 for me and why I don't completely hate her is because her theme of motherhood and taking work so well with Ethan's story, it's a shame she's not in RE8 for longer, and that the deaths of her Daughters weren't more impactful to her is a downright SHAME.

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

I won't say rewriting RE8 because I'm thinking about it now, but know I want to. I have two fics I would love to work on personally? This might be cheating, but... I don't think I care. I want to work on them. As much as I don't like RE8, I *do* have kind of a silly fic I've been slowly working on that very indulgently combines my two favorite things: Rewriting stories I don't like and turning people into monsters.

It's a bad-end fic where after the end of RE4, Leon, Ashley and Luis are re-infected with a strain of Plagas that just makes them buggy, so they go into hiding. Slash cut to RE8, they're hiding out in the same village Miranda's shit is happening, and being kinda pissy towards Chris for """killing"""" Mia, Ethan teams up with Ashley while Luis and Leon just fully have baby Rose with them. It's fully just an excuse to act out like. 3 silly scenes I have in my head, but one day I hope to put that out into the world.

This was so much fun, thank you so much for the ask!!! <3

#murphy speaks #ask game

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fonulyn · 2 years ago

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1, 3, and 18.

I can't imagine what your answers will be for the first 2 :P

1. if you could save one character from their demise (consequences to the plot be damned) who would it be?

lmao this is cheating you know the answer :'D everyone who's followed me for more than two minutes knows the answer. there's no other option! this is just. obviously it's Piers. he deserved so much better. I'd save him in a heartbeat, everyone else be damned.

3. any characters you feel were done absolutely DIRTY by capcom? are they victims of wasted potential or character assassination or what?

Piers. first and foremost. there was no fucking reason to kill him. assholes. urghhhh. wasted everything. i will go to my grave bitter about this. i can't even elaborate any more because I'm already upset thinking about it. they friggin' had alternate endings in the first damn game, they could've at least given us the option to save him. even if it would've been the "non-canonical" ending. pffth.

Jake. he is such a good character. he's fun and witty, and although he's also a bit of a dick he has a giant heart. not to mention how he's already tied to the franchise like... there would be so much to explore with how he's Wesker's son and how he struggles with that, how he doesn't want to be defined by his father but how it also obviously affects him, and how he has such conflicting feelings about it. it would've been so interesting. they could've made him work with Chris (and Jill, tbh), which would've been even more interesting considering what happened with Wesker in the past. and they wasted all of that. for what??? i'm so mad :'D

also Sherry, tbh, to a degree. I would've loved to see more of her, after we got her back in re6. she's a compelling, interesting character, also with ties to the original early games.

also Sheva and Jill. Sheva was only an one-off character but there's no reason they couldn't have brought her back. and what's up with Jill just disappearing off the face of the earth after re5???

ALSO Krauser. the dynamic between him and Leon, the way he was cast aside and struggled and went from a good guy to a villain? I would've loved to get more of that. i keep saying this but why can't they make more Revelations-games, to give us all those good stories from between the main games??? PLEASE CAPCOMMMM.

18. favorite quotes?

oh my gosh we're gonna be here all day... there are so many. I could list like, every single thing Leon says in RE4 :'D and in RE6... and a lot of what he says in Damnation or Vendetta lmao. but I'm gonna try to limit myself.

from Leon, my serious faves are

the speech he makes outside Kendo's, most notably the: “I want to find out what’s happening here. And stop whoever’s behind it. Helping people like them, that’s why I joined the force.”

the talk with Jason in ID, especially: "You cannot save a country if you don't give a damn about the people in it!" and "There were people alive in there. There were families alive in there. And they didn't even try to get them out. So, tough call my ass!"

in RE6, as small as it is, the "We're making the time."

those all speak of his character so much and I wanna weeeeeeep.

the funny faves are, among others, "Chew on that, you overgrown son of a bitch!" and "Where's everyone going? Bingo?" and "I don't ever remember being a part of your crappy script." and "Your right hand comes off?" and "There was no one at the controls. Zombie express." like. classics :'D

I also love how he tells Jake "Welcome to the club. You get used to it."

(this is more a translation thing but I love how when he says in Vendetta that "Careful you don't scare the locals. Your stealth's for shit." it's translated into finnish basically as "Careful you don't scare the locals. You sneak like hippos." :'D aside from that, almost everything Leon says at the bar in Vendetta makes me want to cry)

and from OTHERS, I love when Piers goes "Nobody's expendable." he is so good. also it always makes me laugh when he says "I'm the best driver the BSAA got!" because I certainly am not and I keep driving him into the walls. "I'M THE BEST DRIVER //crashes into a wall" :'D

oh oh oh and Piers and Jake in the elevator things??? "Jesus Christ, do you ever shut up? What, are you trying to piss me off?" "I don't trust you, and I don't like you." like. babies :'D

i also love when Jake goes "You better put a leash on that puppy." but I love even more when he speaks of his father and how it now makes sense how messed up he is, and Sherry goes "You can blame your father all you want, but at some point, you need to take responsibility for your own actions." like tell him girl!

...i'm sure i'm forgetting like a million things and I am so so sorry for how rambly this got :'D

for the RE ask game!

#meme thingy #re meme thingy #attackpoodle #ask and i shall answer #long post #lmao it turned out a bit rambly when do i ever shut up :'D #i have so much love in my heart for these characters

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nshtn · 7 days ago

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Oh, you took it very literally! These are so cute! I ended up making two which you saw, but our writing styles are super different that our Weskers are super different by the mete of our tones and what we've fallen into as headcanon-habit. Yours is quick and snappy, mine drawls on and on; mine's fairly canon-loose, yours is a little more canon-tight (because my pattern is often to paint Wesker as a neutral-negative emoting sociopath whose approach is curiosity & interest based, whereas yours has a penchant for the canonical flair and dramaticisms/Weskerisms that make him so fun)

That makes our answers different - and I love that, because that's more Weskers for me to consume. And I'm gonna eat this one. NOM! ... jk... but maybe a him-shaped cookie...

I've never given a proper response to these before, but you inspire me... your Weskers are just so cute!!! And this one is my wheelhouse as the resident medplay freak!!! I'm really sorry!!!

I like how you went 'clinic' with it, almost med-drama. It's funny to imagine; these days minute clinics are usually all Physicians Assistants & Nurse Practitioners under the label of one singular MD who is there only for face - it's to the point that pre-auth medicines are off the table. Wesker being the singular overseeing MD - who also just happens to be a PhD in like seven different sciences and biomed - is funny.

His first duty when he comes in every day is sign pre-auths and scrawl out why the person yesterday should be granted the treatment they need. I bet he fucking hates fighting with people's insurance and the doctors that they hire to repel his (admittedly sound) reasoning.

Wesker taking the role of anesthesiologist in lieu of one... I'm horribly ashamed to say I blush at the idea of that. Oh yes Doctor, I just need you to push the Propofol nice and slow, please don't give me any lidocaine, I want to feel you push it... ahem. I wonder if his grumbling would shift if he had to get Propofol himself one day. There's a reason you go slow and a reason you usually give someone lidocaine - it feels like you're a kebab roasting over a BBQ platter while listening to a ray gun phase in and out.

And when you wake up you feel like you got a lobotomy for three hours. Standing up? Good luck with that. I think that'd make for a very interesting Wesker placed in a very vulnerable position... conversely, being the person who feels that way with Wesker looming over you exposes delicious powerplay potential if he's taken a particular liking to you for some reason.

Aww, I wonder if the EMTs would pick up a litany of accidental medical skills from him. Imagine coming in a fresh EMT and leaving having practically earned your MD under Doctor Wesker's prying, critical eyes, feeling like he needed to teach you so you'd stop making errors that get his patients worse off when they're passed to him. The last thing he wants to do is go vein-finding on someone who really needs morphine because you failed to stick them multiple times in a moving vehicle.

Imagine being an EMT he's been training for an entire year. The slow-burn in how his behavior goes from moderately antagonistic towards your perceived incompetency to supportive or even soft as you soak in his knowledge, and you become better than your peers, an extension of his pride... late-night fussing over a medical journal he's shared with you that he enjoys, eyes glazing over as they sweep across his neat, tabbed footnotes and words you see but don't immediately understand... when you find you can't keep your eyes open anymore, he drapes one of the cot's blankets over you (nobody will ever know).

Counterpoint: he wears angular, wide, sleek glasses during surgery that make him look significantly more edible and perfectly highlight his hollow cheeks and high, wide-set cheekbones. They're MR glasses like the kind he has in DbD/RE4, but they're made for medical surgery and not combat. Sometimes his groggy, high patients look at him and go straight to flirtation because he's undeniably pretty. He will never get used to it or the effect it has on his ego when they make grabby hands as he stalks off... I'm sure he's had his fair share of patients who make lascivious, unforgettably honest comments under the truth-slipping tide of Versed... and completely insane, out-of-pocket ramblers to go 'ahuh,' to.

Another 'Wesker is docile with children' truther, yes... join the light side, we have... cookies?

I wonder how he feels when his young patients don't make it. Does it weigh on him?

And, like all med-dramas, there is the silly romances happening all over the place; but Wesker is one step away from House MD, so he'd merely be observational of his coworker's shifting dynamics... he'd have mountains of drama to absorb and roll his eyes about like Scar.

...wonder what he brings for lunch, or if he's Soylentmaxxing. I don't doubt for a moment he's Ritalin & caffeinemaxxing.

would anyone be interested in an au where wesker is a doctor for a very small town near the arklays' hospital... its like s.t.a.r.s but indefinite and he would be the medical director...

#albert wesker #tw medical #tw drugs #medplay #tw suggestive #suggestive #if u squint at my ONE unhinged comment LMAO #IF YOU HATE THIS IM SO SORRY #YOUR IDEA IS JUST SO FUNNNN #/dev/writing/#OH NO NOW THERE'S 3 MEDSKERS... AHH!!#this is crack added onto your honest post :)#resident evil

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