#it was a lot of fun to write this for wesker!

[aceghosts]

Reflections

Rating: G

Summary: A photo of Wesker at his S.T.A.R.S. Days brings back some memories.

Warnings: No real warnings apply. Please let me know if I need to tag for anything.

Words: 2,978 words

Author’s Note: This is a gift for @skinky-squamata as part of @sstewyhosseini's RE Gift Exchange! Mika, thank you for letting me participate and giving this a look over! @skinky-squamata, I hope you enjoy this!

AO3

Albert Wesker pauses, his finger hovering over the button of the terminal. In his black shades, reflects the soft blue glow of the screen, his eyes fixed on the image in front of him. He stares at the photograph, one taken from his days at S.T.A.R.S., back when he was just pretending to be the Captain of the Alpha team. How easy it had been to fool everyone. None of them saw his betrayal coming, not that they could have. The S.T.A.R.S. members were his personal little piggies to experiment on. In the end, they had done a fine job. However, S.T.A.R.S. surviving had not been part of Wesker’s plan, an unfortunate annoyance.

In the photo, Wesker is in the middle, Chris on his right, with Barry to his left. Both have their arms around his shoulders. Jill and Rebecca are in front of the three, crowded into the photo with them. Behind the camera is Joseph Frost, cracking jokes in an attempt to make everyone smile. This photo is from his days at S.T.A.R.S., Barry playing his part well. Wesker knows Barry would have rather punched him, only the threat of harm to his family keeping him at bay. Everyone is smiling, looking excited and happy, unaware of the events to come. Even Wesker, himself, is smiling slightly, arms crossed over his chest.

Looking over at Chris, a deep hatred flares in Wesker’s chest. Chris…the bane of his existence. Every time Wesker is about to execute a daring move, Chris and his merry band of imbeciles are there to mess up his plans. At least, his other plans, the ones hidden in shadows, are left alone. No matter, Chris’s efforts are futile, and his struggle only makes Wesker’s victory more delicious in the end. As he stares into the screen, Wesker can’t help but drift back to a memory of Chris in Wesker’s early days at S.T.A.R.S.

--Raccoon City Police Station circa 1996—

BANG!

The rifle fires off, hitting its mark. With a smirk, Wesker moves the right earmuff back, teasing Chris, “Think you can do better, Chris?”

It’s late at the station, most of the staff already having left for the night. Originally, Wesker was going to leave, having been held later by that pig, Chief Irons, who once again felt it was his place to lecture Wesker. While he was able to remind Irons who Wesker worked for, Irons clearly had an inflated sense of worth, and Wesker looked forward to the day he was no longer needed. Noticing that Chris was at the gun range, Wesker decided to join him, blowing off some steam and hopefully kicking his ass in the process.

“Course I can, Wesker! Watch this!” Chris says before both men get their gear back in place. He aims, firing off two quick shots, hitting the mark in quick succession.

Chris looks over to him, and Wesker nods in approval. He removes his earmuffs as Chris does, complementing his younger teammate. “Impressive.” Chris smiles, clearly appreciating the comment from his Captain. From the short time that Wesker had known Chris, he found that the young man held himself to a high standard, leaving no room for failure, something he and Wesker had in common. Barry mentioned that Chris was determined to prove himself, that he earned his spot on the S.T.A.R.S. team. Another thing he and Wesker had in common. Although, Wesker supposed he wanted to prove himself for less noble reasons.

“Thanks, Wesker,” He replies, before a slightly mischievous gleam appears in his eyes, “How about we make this more interesting?”

A bet and a chance to kick Chris’ ass? Now, this is an idea that Wesker can get behind. “Name your terms, Chris.”

“Whoever can hit the most moving targets in a minute wins.”

Wesker tilts his head. “Sounds agreeable, but what is the catch?”

“If I win, you have to come out with us tomorrow night. Join us for a monthly S.T.A.R.S. teambuilding.” Ah, ‘Teambuilding’ as Chris and some of the others referred to it. Wesker saw it as an excuse for them to get drunk at the local bar.

“Why would you want me to join you? Most people would be thrilled that their boss didn’t join them for a drink.”

Chris falters slightly, looking more unsure of himself. “We want to get to know you, Wesker. None of us know you, and you’re always rebuking our attempts to get to know you better. We’re a team; we have to be able to trust each other.” It takes all of Wesker’s strength not to scoff at Chris, call him an idiot for believing in a thing like trust. Chris’s attitude is so antithetical to anything at Umbrella. At Umbrella (and in life generally), trust only gets you hurt.

Instead, he settles for a half-joke. “And what do I get in return?”

Chris’ eyes light up as he thinks. “I’ll take over any night patrols that you have for a week.”

“Make it two weeks and you have a deal.”

He smiles, a wide grin on his face. “You’re going down, Wesker!” Chris wins by a slight margin, Wesker letting him. Wesker supposes it couldn’t hurt to spend a night with the team.

--

 The memory ends, leaving Wesker alone in the dark room with only the screen for light. He scoffs at how idealistic Chris was at that time. Surely, Arklay had rid Chris of that notion. Yet, Wesker couldn’t help but see part of Chris in himself, no matter how much he hated it. It made Chris such an annoyance with his partner, Jill. Jill Valentine.

He looks at Jill, who is smiling as widely as Chris. Wesker snorts, another memory coming back to him.

--Raccoon City Police Station circa 1996—

Wesker’s hands come up to rub his temples, a minor headache starting to form. Curse Irons and his over-inflated ego! He grits his teeth, frustration bubbling up. No matter how many times, Wesker politely reminds Irons that he is ultimately a pawn for Umbrella, the man never seems to remember for long. If he had to hear another lecture from Irons-.

“Captain Wesker?”

He turns, finding Jill Valentine in the hallway, watching him with concern. Glancing down at his watch, Wesker notes that she should just be leaving. “Is something the matter, Jill?”

Jill shakes her head. “No, you…look frustrated. Is everything okay?”

“Nothing is the matter, Jill,” He replies with a sense of finality, hoping that she won’t ask more questions.

She narrows her cold blue eyes, and Wesker knows he isn’t being let off so easily. While a rather useful trait for a lockpicker and bomb defusal expert, Jill’s perceptiveness is rather inconvenient at this time. “Is it Irons?”

Wesker frowns, now concerned. Was Irons blabbing his fat mouth around the station? “Who told you that?”

Jill holds up her hands in mock surrender. “We noticed that you always seemed to be in a worse mood after Irons. You look like you’ve been talking with him again.”

“We?”

“Yeah, the team and I,” She pauses, adding sheepishly a few seconds later, “I noticed first and told the rest of the team.”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “You and the team have time to gossip on the clock? If so, I think we need to increase-.”

“It’s not like that,” Jill shakes her head, “We wanted to make things easier for you. If Irons was getting on your case, we thought it might be about S.T.A.R.S. So, we tried to show Irons that we are a good team.”

Now that Jill mentions it, a lot of things start making sense. After one particularly frustrating (and almost violence-inducing on Wesker’s end) talk with Irons, he came back to the S.T.A.R.S.’s office to find Chris working on paperwork dutifully, something he often didn’t do. At the time, Wesker shrugged it off, but he wondered if it was Chris’s attempt at making S.T.A.R.S. look good. “Hm, is that so?”

“Yes,” Jill relaxes, her shoulders dropping, “We tried to come up with ways that we could show off, make the team look better.”

“Was that your idea or Alpha teams’?”

“It was mine at first, but the rest of the team thought it was a good idea.”

“Thank you,” Wesker admits, “I appreciate the work you and the rest of the team are doing. However, my meetings with Irons do not involve you.”

She raises her eyebrow, tilting her head slightly. “Then, what do they involve?”

“Nothing that is any of your business.”

Jill opens her mouth, only to be cut off by Chris. “Hey Jill! You ready to go-Oh hey, Wesker!”

Wesker snorts, smirking slightly. “Go.”

“But-.”

“It’s none of your concern, Jill. Enjoy your night with Chris.”

She glances between the two, smiling back at Wesker. “Have a good night, Wesker, and” Jill adds quietly, “if there is anything we can do, let us know.”

Wesker nods, watching as Jill leaves with Chris, both happily chatting and laughing with each other, unaware of the future horrors to come.

--

Jill and Chris always made a good team, and Wesker always thought that Jill might be perceptive enough to sense that something was slightly off about her Captain. But it never happened. Now, she and Chris were always several steps behind, unable to catch up to Wesker.

He looks to Rebecca Chambers next, the youngest member of the S.T.A.R.S. team. She had a brilliant mind, especially compared to some of S.T.A.R.S.’s other members. Yet, Rebecca chose to waste her talents in his eyes, once wondering briefly if Rebecca would join the pharmaceutical industry.

--Raccoon City Police Station circa 1998—

“Rebecca.” Rebecca jumps, apparently deeply focused on her work. She jumps, nearly knocking over the mug of coffee in a S.T.A.R.S. mug. Wesker is quick enough, carefully catching the mug and setting it back on her desk. “I apologize, Rebecca. I did not mean to scare you.” He’s only curious, wondering what Rebecca is doing here so late. Wesker rarely sees Rebecca, considering she works for Bravo Team.

She shakes her head. “It’s okay, Captain Wesker,” Rebecca smiles at him, still slightly nervous and on edge, “I got absorbed in my work again. Classmates used to tease me about it all the time.” Wesker notices a brief wince. It wouldn’t surprise him that her classmates sought to sabotage her; it’s something he and Will would have done, especially Will.     

 Wesker leans casually against her desk, raising an eyebrow. “There are worse things than to be absorbed in your work. Better to be interested in the project in front of you than simply skating by.”

“I agree,” Rebecca starts to relax, seeming less disturbed by his presence, “I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.”

That catches Wesker’s attention. Really? Nothing else except working at S.T.A.R.S.? “Interesting,” He muses, knowing that geniuses like Rebecca have their pick of placement, “You weren’t interested in working anywhere else?”

Again, Rebecca shakes her head. “Nope! I’m happy to be here.”

“What about working as a doctor?”

“I don’t think I have the people skills for it,” Rebecca admits, nervously rubbing the back of her neck, “Besides, I like working with a smaller team.”

“What about a pharmaceutical company like Umbrella?” She would be a fool to join Umbrella, but perhaps, she could be swayed over to another one.

“They tried to scout me for their biochemistry teams, but I wasn’t interested.”

Interesting. Most would jump at the chance to work with a company like Umbrella. “Why not? What made you say no?”

Rebecca glances at the photo on her desk, a picture of the Bravo team. They all look happy, smiling wide in the S.T.A.R.S.’s office. “As I said, I wasn’t interested. Umbrella couldn’t give me the one thing that I was looking for in my work. I want my work to have a purpose, to be part of a team. I’ve found that here with S.T.A.R.S.”

How sentimental. How naïve. Places like Umbrella would have chewed her up and spit her out. At Umbrella, you were always seeking to get the better of your colleagues, sabotaging them when you had the chance. Someone else’s failure meant more time and accolades for you. He remembers one researcher like Rebecca, who hadn’t lasted long at Umbrella. He remembers the way she stared, broken and defeated, as she realized what had been done to her work. “Captain Wesker?”

Wesker is jolted from his thoughts. “Yes, it’s important your workplace matches your values.” And what weak values Rebecca had. Just like the rest of the fools here.

Rebecca smiles up at him. “Thanks for understanding, Captain Wesker.”

--

What a massive waste of talent. No matter what, Rebecca would fail like the rest. He would make sure of it.

He moves to Barry next, a small chuckle escaping from him as he smirks. Poor Barry, so easy to manipulate. Barry loved his dear family too much and had been so easy to manipulate. He had been the perfect pawn for Wesker to use, especially with the false threat of Umbrella. Until his damn conscience got the better of him. Another memory takes over him, one before he made Barry his pawn.

--The Burton Household circa 1996—

“Wesker! Thanks for coming over!” Barry pats his shoulder forcefully, and Wesker forces a semi-friendly smile on his face.

“It would be rude to reject an invitation from a colleague…” And this was too good of an opportunity to learn more about Barry, to possibly find something that Wesker could dangle over him like a carrot on a stick. In the future, Wesker will wonder if Barry ever regretted this decision, to allow someone like Wesker into his home, his sanctuary. He will wonder if Barry thinks he should have thrown Wesker out, that he let the snake into their den.

Barry gives him a confused look, before shaking his head, perhaps chalking it up to Wesker’s aloof nature. “Well, I hope you enjoy beer and burgers! We’re grilling tonight.”

“Delightful.” Barry opens the door, Wesker behind him. The Burton home is slightly messy, a stark contrast to Wesker’s neat and orderly home. Even Will’s home is neater, but that’s since Will and Annette are rarely there.

“DADDY! DADDY!” Two girls come running, jumping into Barry’s arms as he scoops them up. Both girls laugh in delight, their smiles matching the wide one on their father’s face.

“Wesker, meet my daughters, Moira and Polly! Girls, say hello to Captain Albert Wesker.”

“Hello!” Both girls shout in unison before they start to pepper Wesker with questions and random tangents.

“Girls, slow down! Give him a few minutes.”

“Sorry dad!” They both apologize, curiosity still bright in their eyes. How different Moira and Polly are from Sherry. Sherry always seems so polite, so quiet. But Wesker knows that it’s from the lack of attention she receives, that she’s been forced to grow up faster than her peers. He wonders if Sherry would be like Moira and Polly if she was raised in a home like this, more childlike. Barry beams at his girls, adoration for them shining in his eyes. They seem to be the center of his universe. Wesker doesn’t think he’s seen Will or Annette look at Sherry that way.

“Come on, Wesker, and girls! Let’s get that grill going!” The girls laugh and cheer in delight as Barry turns, motioning for Wesker to follow him. He follows Barry, knowing that he’s just found the carrot dangling over Barry.

Later on, during his time at the Burton’s, Kathy, Barry’s wife, pulls Wesker over to the side as Barry is distracted with the girls. “Promise me you’ll look after him?” Her voice is steady, but Wesker hears the faint fear behind it.

 “I will try. I cannot guarantee that he will avoid danger, but I will watch out for him.” It’s a bald-faced lie, but Kathy doesn’t need to know that. It might be easier for Wesker to manipulate Barry if his wife thinks so highly of his boss.

Her shoulders relax, dropping slightly. “Thank you. I just don’t want the girls to grow up without their dad.” She looks past him, and Wesker follows her gaze, settling on Barry, who is now playing with the girls. Wouldn’t it be so sad for the girls to grow up without their father? He hides the smirk that threatens to appear. Love makes Barry Burton a weak man, and that is something he can use to his advantage.

--

In the end, Barry’s love for his family hadn’t been enough to override his conscience. His love for his teammates won out in the end, and he’d helped Jill when he was supposed to be sabotaging her.

Anger rises in his chest as he glares at the photo, his eyes darting between the different faces. They may have survived the mansion, but they would not survive what Wesker had coming for them. Chris, Jill, Rebecca, and Barry were all pawns, and Wesker would remove them soon. But for now, he would need to be content. Let them think that they were truly doing something.

The anticipation of satisfaction washes over Wesker, and he relaxes, his glare morphing into a smirk. One day, the four would lose, and Wesker would be there to see it. He would savor their defeat along with his victory. A dark chuckle escapes Wesker, knowing that bigger and better things are in store for him.   

[twoturtlesinabathtub]

Weskennedy Shenanigans

A sneak peek at my upcoming Weskennedy fic, Killing Time (because I’m a slut for titles with double meanings lol)

Is that Felix? Leon wondered. It looked as though the German man had acquired some new clothing. From this distance, it somewhat resembled a police uniform—which didn't make much sense, considering Felix's background.

Well, whatever. He'd seen much weirder clothes here before. Leon was sure the architect was on the lookout for his own generator to work on; still, he questioned why Felix didn't seem to be looking for objectives to complete.

Said question was answered when a low laugh sounded behind him and he felt a long slash split the skin of his back.

"Fuck!" he yelped, scrambling forward and away from the hit. He turned and saw a man who, from this short distance, certainly wasn't anyone he recognized. This guy was new. And that always meant bad news.

"You're not a Survivor." Leon staggered backwards from the apparent Killer.

"Well spotted," said the other man dryly. He then cocked his head slightly as he took in Leon's disheveled appearance. "You. I heard you were here. Finally, we're face-to-face."

Leon was doing his damnedest to keep from groaning from the pain. "You've heard of me, huh?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Indeed. Strange, though..." The Killer slowly flicked Leon's blood off his knife, a wicked looking thing that was longer than his forearm. "You seem to be from a time before mine, judging by the baby face. A rookie." The corner of his mouth tilted up in a grin, as if he found the term inordinately amusing.

"Well, if you know anything about me, then you'd know I managed to break into an Umbrella facility on my first day and kill plenty of nasty shit on the way."

"All on your own?" the other man tutted. "Or with help from our dear friend, Ms. Wong?"

Leon stiffened. "You know Ada?"

"Better than you. Much better." The Killer raised a brow. "You truly don't know who I am, do you?"

Leon didn't reply as he studied the stranger warily. He knew enough: that this man was the latest psychopath out to kill him and his friends. He knew he likely wouldn't make it out of this trial alive, not if the enemy was already familiar with him. Who knew how much information he had?

Might as well go out with a bang. Leon's hand began inching towards his back pocket, which held a flash grenade he'd crafted earlier.

The other man took immediate notice. "Really?" he drawled. "A grenade. Is that all you have?" He stalked closer, his footsteps almost completely silent. "You really are so young."

"Easy for a senior citizen to say," Leon shot back.

The other man stopped dead in his tracks. When he next spoke, his tone was low, ill-boding in a way that made the back of Leon's neck prickle. "This is the moment when you attempt to run," the Killer said evenly.

Leon didn't need to be told twice.

.~.~.

The trial was going poorly. Leon had managed to help his fellow Survivors finish two of the generators, but the Killer had still been able to send him sprawling with the lighting-quick flashes of his blade. He'd yet to see if the newest addition to the realm had any special ability, as it hadn't been used on him. He was the first to reach death-hook, and his luck was running out. When he heard Chris's shout as he was strung up on a hook, Leon took off like a shot in Chris's direction.

Upon reaching Chris, Leon skidded to a halt, horrified to see the man's skin crawling with a strange, black substance that slithered in and out of sight. "What..." he gasped.

Chris wasn't even looking at him, a stupefied expression on his face as he hung limply from the hook and muttered to himself. It was like he'd gone into shock. "Wesker. Fucking Wesker. What's he doing here?"

"Chris?" Leon said. He repeated the man's name, louder this time, and Chris snapped out of it. His wide eyes conveyed a terror Leon had never seen in him.

"Leon," he said, voice rising to a near-frantic pitch, "get the fuck out of here. It's Wesker. I don't know how—I don't know why—but he's here and he wants me and I don't get the things he's saying but all I know is he's gonna go fucking ballistic if he sees you trying to help me—"

"Chris, stop!" Leon shouted. "I'm not just going to leave you. Let me—" He reeled back when Chris tried to slap his hands away, but still reached up to pull the other man off of his hook.

"Leon, go!"

The rookie set his jaw and ignored him, bracing his hands under Chris's arms and beginning to pull upwards.

Before he could finish helping his friend, Leon was yanked back by the collar, then gripped by the throat and hoisted into the air. The Killer—Wesker—looked almost bored, as if Leon weighed no more than a few pounds. He was left dangling there, hands clawing uselessly at the grip around his neck.

Wesker wasn't even looking at the rookie, his head turned towards Chris, instead. "My, what an interesting world this is." The malicious amusement in his voice instilled a sense of leaden dread that made Leon stop struggling momentarily. "Isn't this a touching scene?"

"Leave him alone, you bastard," Chris barked. "It's me you want."

Wesker smirked. "Quiet, now, Chris, you'll have your turn. I plan to take my time with you—we have some things to discuss."

"Put Leon down!"

"Is that an order, Redfield?" The Killer's grip tightened around Leon's neck; the rookie wheezed quietly, words far beyond him at this point.

Leon would die. It was why he was here. Chris seemed to forget that more often than not, acted like death was the end. Despite knowing this, the rookie was still panicking. It wasn't because of Wesker's seemingly normal appearance—it was because of the look on Chris's face.

"Hmm," Wesker droned, gaze still fixed on the man hanging from the hook. "I've been holding on to this for when I finally met you—but I suddenly have a better idea." Wesker leisurely reached into a hip pocket with his free hand and pulled out a small, green offering. An ivory memento mori.

"You son of a bitch," Chris snarled, now beginning to attempt to pull himself off of his hook as he looked at Leon with equal measures of fear and rage.

"Don't look away, Redfield."

Leon's struggling intensified as the fright threatened to take over, but he was too far off the ground, too far away from the man who held his life in his hand for his frantic kicks to do any good. In a last, desperate move, one of his fists managed to make contact—just a glancing blow, but it still knocked Wesker's glasses off. That got his attention. Leon's breath froze in his bruised throat when a pair of glowing, reptilian eyes met his.

Wesker regarded him coolly as he crushed the mori in his fist, the offering disappearing in a wisp of smoke. "I believe I'll enjoy this," he said with finality, then punched Leon square in the face. The rookie flew back several feet, landing in a crumpled heap. It was only when he could no longer pull air into his lungs that he realized his trachea had been completely crushed.

Leon faintly heard Chris spitting furious obscenities as a mass of black, viscous tendrils raced across the ground and then ate him from the inside out. Before the dark spots in his vision overtook it completely, he managed to make out a low, amused chuckle.

"It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Officer Kennedy."

[hostiae]

resident evil 5 headcanons.

(note: this is all my interpretation. re is such an old franchise with so much retconning, inconsistencies, etc, that i think there's room for everyone's interpretations to be valid. )

i'm going to start by diving into how i feel about uroboros, in general. my wesker's portrayal is heavily based on the earlier games and the archives ( i use a lot of the wesker report for my headcanons).

he is self-serving, narcissistic, and interested in his own success, but not really a master villain. he's not interested in world domination, global destruction total global saturation.

uroboros causes delirium. these viruses want to infect. it's in the virus's best interest to infect the world. so, wesker's interest in erasing humanity in exchange for the select few who are "compatible," has more to do with the virus than him turning into a super villain bent on world destruction and eugenics. wesker loathes oswell spencer, he's partially responsible for umbrella's downfall, this isn't a man who wants to follow in his footsteps. he spent years trying to figure out what spencer's ultimate plan was, but he was also more than willing to get the fuck out as quickly as possible.

there's a major difference between a character willing to create, sell, and deal in bioweapons without any regard for others and wanting to kill billions of people.

i don't think wesker is compatible. the fact that he needed the injections tells me he probably wasn't and the only reason the virus didn't rip him apart was because of progenitor. i don't think he has much in the way of control. but he thinks he does. which is dangerous in and of itself.

as far as my portrayal is concerned, uroboros gave him a god-complex that helped him ignore common sense ( and any greater intelligence ). i'm pretty sure that his plan wouldn't have worked. it's more likely to be killed in the atmosphere than to infect the world.

onto chris. chris doesn't require nearly as much changing as far as headcanons are concerned. his desire for vengeance would be just the same as it always is. his anger and hatred towards wesker would be as strong as ever.

my biggest qualm comes with the volcano. it's great for a video game, okay. great for the memes. but the odds of him surviving in the crater of an active volcano?? no. the fight probably took place on the mountain and most likely utilized rocket launchers in the end, to finally destroy wesker, but no one was in a volcano.

i do have headcanons for wesker's survival, but this is just going to go with the canon ending for the sake of being able to split up headcanons.

when it comes to 5, i'm always a little vague bc there's a lot that i can't change, and that's really hard for me to justify comfortably.

also, as for all my headcanons, i can always alter things for threading and plotting purposes.

[5eraphim]

Okay so this has been stuck in my head for WEEKS and I finally decided to stop bein scared and ask you to write about it lol

So as a DBD player, I got to thinking that it would be kinda cool if survivors could fight the killer even if it was just once per round and then this scenario popped into my head.

How would Killer react to Survivor!Reader biting them as a defense/distraction/etc? My favs are The Shape, The Executioner, and The Mastermind! Headcannons would be amazing but if you could maybe branch out to make one a one-shot kinda deal? Maybe NSFW if you feel spicy?

P.S your writing and fics LITERALLY give me life YOU’RE SO GOOD 😭🧡

My deepest apologies for how long this has been rotting in my inbox, I thought this prompt was a lot of fun, and again, I'm sorry it took forever for me to get around to answering this. Hope you enjoy all the same!

Characters: Michael Meyers, Albert Wesker, Pyramid Head (Dead By Daylight)

Rating: R (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, GO PLAY OUTSIDE!!)

Content Warnings: Yandere, smut, noncon, stalking, choking, violence, sacrificed to the entity, predator/prey dynamics, obsession, sadism and masochism, reader is kept gender neutral

Word Count: 1.6k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

The Shape

It's almost too predictable for a killer like Michael Myers to wind up in a situation like this. As the survivor he brought with him into the entity's realm made physical payback, her signature, Micheal can't help but attract the "feisty" type.

A man hiding behind a mask, Michael competes with fierce determination and an almost primal compulsion to hunt, stalk, and slaughter like no other. Of the three, Myers would be the most likely to anticipate physical retribution from a survivor, according to him, all part of the hunt. 

Myers prefers to remain hidden by shadows as long as possible, awaiting his perfect opportunity to go in for a decisive kill. But remaining hidden in the dark is a luxury you don't have at your disposal on account of being Myer's obsession.

You didn't want it to come to this. Even before the match started, you prayed to fight any killer, but Myers, your disappointment only grew as you realized minutes later that you were his obsession.

The idea of fighting back physically was a spur-of-the-moment decision; you knew you only had one chance of pulling this off, and if you missed, your fate would be sealed. You usually weren't one to opt for such a risky strategy, but you were too blinded by your fear of Myers. You would do anything to get away.

Even though you couldn't see him, you could feel Myers' eyes locked in on you, no doubt following and trailing you from behind. The paranoia was torture, but you forced yourself to stay strong and ignore Myers, to focus solely on supporting your team. 

When Myers inevitably tracked you down and caught you after getting distracted by something else, you had so much pent-up nervous aggression that you couldn't hold back your body's instinct to fight back.

Fear overtook any lingering traces of rationality as you struggled blindly against Myers, but you had just enough determination reserved to take aim and fire a single punch, aiming for his head, landing against the cheek of the mask; it was just enough to disorient him long enough for you to wriggle free.

Despite the offense, Myers didn't think you had it in you to fight back like that. It excited him! As though you were holding back on him before, and now you were starting to fight back like you really meant it!

After enduring the pressure of being his obsession and succumbing to the fear of it all, you little humanity left to hold onto, almost nothing but your primal fight or flight instincts; it was truly a beautiful sight for him to behold.

The next time he cornered you, Myers decided he ought to follow your lead, only instead of going for your head, he would go for your throat, not with the knife, but with his hand.

And for just a moment, he'd keep you there. Only needing one hand around your throat to keep your entire body pinned into place on the wall behind you. Wood planks made contact with your back at odd angles, the dull pain radiating up and down your spine as you were face to face with Myers, close enough to hear his breathing behind the mask while he observed your face- knowing you believed he was seconds away from slitting your throat. 

Likely, as Myers holds you in such a compromising position, he takes out all his own pent-up frustrations on you. Leaving bitemarks all over your neck and shoulders while he quickly shreds the clothes from your body.

Just as you gave into primal fight-or-flight instincts, he was giving into his own primal urges. He'd won the hunt, and now it was time to let his libido take charge. Half-undressed, he ruts against you, and you can hear his heartbeat racing. Maybe even feel his body warming as his blood flows rapidly, but he remains as silent as a corpse.

After having his fun, Myers will take great pleasure in sacrificing you to the entity. Even if he couldn't take down everyone on your team before this, the opportunity to sacrifice his obsession in such a thrilling bloodbath overshadowed any regular trial as a ruthless killer. 

The Mastermind

It wouldn't take more than an instance of fighting back physically against him for Wesker to decide to hunt you down right away. He would've never suspected another survivor would be bold enough to try something like this on him. Wesker wants to know what makes you think you're strong enough to try something like this.

His reaction would be determined primarily by what point in the trial you try this.

Albert might think it's insufficient enough to ignore if it's early or if he's doing well.

But given how infamous of a hothead he can be, more often than not, any time you try this, expect to be met with hostility.

Wants to see you go from physically resistant to begging him for mercy. On the outside, he pretends to see brats like you as nothing but a petty annoyance to be dealt with, but on the inside, he absolutely loves doing this; keeping the weak in check is how he stays strong.

Wesker doesn't exactly get any legitimate pleasure from being hurt, but he will tap into the pain when fighting back. He does this partly out of loyalty and obligation to the entity but equally out of a petty vengeance to hurt you back twice as hard as you hurt him.

Wesker waits patiently before fighting back, taking care of those annoying teammates first to give you his undivided attention. As well as strategically lying in wait after the confrontation before striking while your guard is down. 

The very first thing Wesker does after tracking you down is wounding you exactly where you hurt him, though he's sure not to let you go until he's drawn blood.

Don't expect him to show you any mercy from here. Might go as far as pushing you down, wiping his shoes against your back as you writhe below, trying to squirm out from under his boot.

It's good foreplay for him, seeing the foolish survivor who dared to fight back, bleeding and barely alive. He won't fuck you in the muck for his own sake, of course. Wesker will push you up against a wall face first while he is taking you from behind.

If he's feeling especially good after sweeping a trial, he might leave you with just enough life to hold onto while you crawl to the hatch. More likely, you won't live long after such a brutal session. But even if you don't die, Wesker will be sure to leave you so beaten and tormented you'll regret trying to fight him like that and won't want to try again. Even if Wesker secretly hopes you will.

The Executioner

While the others welcome the resistance, even if only to crush it, Pyramid Head would likely resent you for trying to physically challenge the killer and disrupt the natural order of things. It was an injustice, and it was imperative to punish you for this.

Imagine playing as a "Gen-Jockey" survivor, the kind of teammate who provides the bare minimum to the rest of the team, putting your own survival above the lives of your teammates, the type of survivor Pyramid Head hated the most. A coward.

All that to say, it was an extreme shock after he cornered you and felt your teeth sinking into the exposed flesh above his glove. 

While you were combative and aggressive now, Pyramid Head knew you couldn't keep this up forever. You were, to him, nothing but a coward deep down. Even if you wanted to pretend like you had any real fight of your own, it wouldn't be long before you surrendered to your own exhaustion. Perhaps he was even doing this as his way of offering you a "fair shot" to find your way out before he got his hands on you. Like he would ever let that happen.

Since you tried to bite him earlier, he'd punish you by fucking you from behind, bent over a broken desk crushing your face against the hardwood surface. He was an inescapable force while you were powerless to stop any of this from below.

Would only give into his beastial nature to hurt and fuck you if he's already managed to kill the rest of your team. It's not his style to slaughter his obsession until he's taken care of the others, and he doesn't want to let anyone pass by without judgment.

If he doesn't get this opportunity during the trial, Pyramid Head will fantasize about killing you off last while staying buried inside you, feeling your pathetic body crumbling and going limp beneath him.

Paradoxical feelings of sadism and protectiveness for you as Pyramid Head is obsessed with being the only one alloweed to hurt you, judge your soul, or torture you. But all this cruelty is undermined by his motivation to keep you from getting hurt by others.

He is most likely to let you live after making love because the instant gratification of an orgasm, as well as the satisfaction of punishing you himself, will keep him from sending you up to the entity. 

Consider this Pyramid Head's very niche kind of post-nut clarity.

[herecomethatboi]

Dbd killers x gn!reader pt. 3

Part 3 of mc getting slammed against the wall lol

Guys I need more, feel free to send me any kind of request (nsfw abc, sfw abc, more parts for this silly series etc)you have and i'll gladly write them all :D (when my final exams are finally over hahaha)

Also, I was drunk when I wrote this and I trust drunk-me with writing. He's better at writing than sober-me, so here's an unedited "masterpiece"!

ENJOYYYY 🩷🩷

The Mastermind:

At the start of the match you saw the gray metal box right next to you and knew exactly who you were up against.

You weren't thrilled at all, Wesker or "Mastermind" -as the Entity called him- was such a try hard with his skillful dashes, that you sometimes questioned if he actually was just doing it since "it's better strategy" and not for the fact he enjoys doing stunts like that.

You sighed as you rummaged around the other normal chest you found -since you forgot to equip an item- and found a flashlight, which was perfect.

Then, you heard his little chuckle Wesker does, before he dashes and was swept up immedietly and thrown quite far away.

You groaned at the impact, but got up and ran, the killer close on your tail.

Just in time, you found a pallet and smacked it on top of his head, flashed the flashlight into his face -which usually angers him a lot- and then ran more.

This back and forth between you two continued, and three gens already popped, which you were glad about.

But, alas, your confidence came back to bite you in the ass.

Wesker caught you again, slammed you against the shack, and just kept you there, while he grinned.

"Caught you now." The killer was so so close, your lips almost touched.

He was amused in his own twisted way. An ordinary human made him run so much, but in the end, was caught easily.

"Gonna hook me now?" You squeked out, your throat was held tight with the uwuburos, making breathing difficult.

Awh, you're adorable. A little mouse, if you will. Wesker knew the Entity's rules, but eventually, he will have his fun with you.

Another gen popped.

"Oh no, i'm keeping you here." He said, gave you a little peck on the lips, just to confuse you even further. Nootherreasonwhatareyoutalkingabout.

Then stepped away, but the virus stayed, locking you against the wall. "Your performance was above average. Congratulations." He bowed. "You gained the tiniest respect from me."

He left with a smirk. You tried to claw away the black thing that just didn't seem budge or tear away. So, you gave up. You looked up into the fake dark sky, thinking...

What the Hell did you get into.

The Nightmare (Freddy Krueger):

The dream realm was a tricky thing to navigate in. You sometimes were weirded out by the bloodpools that scared the living shit out of you, when you accidently stepped into them.

Today, there were no generators. Which made you uneasy. What the heck is going on?

You walked into the main building and tried to listen.

Then, the laugh. That annoying, weird, freaky laugh Freddy made, then you were in the dream realm. You looked around, like a deer in headlight. Trying to listen in on the killer.

"What the Hell is going on?" You asked out loud. You turned around and there he was, leaning against a generator that was NOT there a second ago.

"A new game." He simply amswered with a grin. Freddy seemed too happy. "A little gift from the Entity to me."

"Okay, but wha-"

"Shhh shhh shhh let me finish."

"Sorry."

"Khm. So, easy," he leaned away from the gen and stepped toward you, "you find the fake generator, and you win a price!" His grin told you there was a twist.

"If I don't?"

"... you'll know." He said with a childish innocence. "Good luck!" Then he disappeared.

Great.

After God knows how long, you finally found the fake generator. Which made it bleed, just like in normal trials, and Freddy appeared.

"Now, that wasn't that difficult, was it?"

"What the Hell is your game, Freddy?"

"Making out with you."

"What??" Before your shock truely registered, you were up against the bloody generator with him kissing you roughly.

You tried to push against him, but there was no use, of course there wasn't, you mentally rolled your eyes.

So, you just let it happen.

The kiss wasn't... Bad. You sadly had to admit.

Freddy held you surprisingly gently by the waist and neck. But his kiss was bruising and he did bite your lower lip more than once.

You started to actually kiss back and held his waist in one hand, while the other was on his shoulder.

Why were you kissing back? What the Hell is wrong with you? You don't know, but it feels... Right?

Then, you woke up wide eyed. You blinked a thousand times and just stared above you. The roof of your tent cleared up from the blurry image it was. Then you just... Licked you lip, feeling it was dry and had a smoky taste.

WHAT. THE. HELL????

[whiskers-my-beloved]

Whiskers Update

Hello everyone ! I hope you had a great summer this year! I haven't been posting in the last few months and I want to say I am so sorry for not updating you all sooner ! I have been very busy, it had been hectic for me and during the summer I had a lot of things to do aswell. I felt bad for being on here and not posting, so I thought I won't open my tumbrl till I had finshed the next page of my comic.

Which in hindsight was a bad idea, I should have told you all that I was busy instead of staying silent. So here as a little apology have this Tsum Wesker at the beach drawing. This summer I was more busy and couldn't really enjoy the beach but the little Tsum got to enjoy the beach atleast :D

I have many things still planned, so many art ideas that I want to share. But like before, I am busy and I am not sure how often I can post. The Tyrant!Reader comic is rough to draw and takes time but I really do enjoy making it!

Besides that I have other smaller comic ideas in the making. And ofcourse like before, I have seen some writings I liked and I wanted to make fanart of that. Hope I can find those posts again! Fanarts to fics / writings is really fun to draw too! (And I have unfished drawings from months ago that I would like to finsh too)

I want to thank everyone of you that took the time to read my silly comics, look at my art, leave hearts / comments and rebloggs. Those mean so much ! And thank for also caring how I was doing too ! Yall are so nice ;w;

[cenorii]

RE headcanons!

PART 1 (if you like it I'll make a sequel with other characters. I was just bored)

My serious headcanons about some RE characters. Some I'll write about more than others because I thought about them more often, I apologize in advance.

Chris Redfield

— his favorite color is green, he enjoys this color and adds it to any set of clothes, even his military gear. He doesn't care if shades of green may not match at all in the same outfit, he just wears that color because he loves it.

— his favorite genre of music in the early years, judging by his daring clothes, guitar and references to «Queen», was heavy metal and pop-rock. Nowadays, many years later, he probably likes the laid-back tunes of «Roxette» and «Savage» because Chris' life has become hectic and he needs an island of peace.

— he smokes, but he's not a heavy smoker. In his youth, Chris smoked a lot and often, judging by his concept art. Now, however, he smokes to get in the right frame of mind and pace, to focus and calm down.

— After the amnesia episode, Chris stopped drinking and now only drinks on holidays. Drinking has become disgusting to him, it reminds him of his episode of weakness.

— Chris prefers his natural scent, doesn't use any special perfume on himself because he washes with regular soap.

— he's a latent gay man, but he's never been in a relationship. Chris seriously doesn't understand why he isn't attracted to women. The last thing he thinks about is his real orientation. He's silly.

— he likes Wesker more than Chris is willing to admit. Since he doesn't realize what kind of attraction it is, Chris doesn't guess his crush. He's too inexperienced in love affairs to realize it. Especially when it comes to Wesker, who he has a ton of emotions associated with, a lot of which are negative.

— Chris has some guitar skills, but after 1998, he barely remembers it. He can't sing, he's just an amateur at it.

— he doesn't know how to cook, ordering takeaways. Chris doesn't like junk food, having given up his attempts to learn how to cook and not even opening the cookbook Claire gave him.

— Chris never has enough time to shave his face or cut his hair. But that doesn't bother him.

— he had a low grade in school, Chris liked fun more than textbooks.

Wesker

— his favorite color is blue, but Wesker doesn't like others to know too much about it, so he adds this color to his clothes very carefully. Blue color in his clothes has never been the main color, it is only an accent.

— Wesker doesn't usually listen to music, he prefers silence, but if he had to choose, he would settle for Frank Sinatra songs. He can only listen to something that won't throw him off his thoughts.

— Wesker doesn't smoke or drink. Spencer dreamed of creating an ideal society, so he raised the Weskers as ideal people. Such people should not drink and smoke. These people should only spend time on self-development and so on.

— he doesn't swear. Wesker doesn't like and/or know how to swear because of his «proper» upbringing. He will never insult a person with a rude word, but will pick up the most innocuous one, even if he is very angry. Who shouts «self-righteous fools» or «ignorant cretins» in anger? Only the child or Wesker, because in his situation I'd be yelling «assholes», «fucking bastards» and so on. He's polite and well-mannered, just like Spencer wanted.

— he has a good sense of humor. Wesker doesn't seem like a joker because his jokes are very subtle and infrequent. He says «I have a date to keep» and then goes and destroys the Red Queen with the phrase «goodbye, fair lady», isn't he the most serious joker in fandom after that?

— Wesker is pansexual, but he doesn't care about relationships and so he, like Chris, is not even aware of his preference. He doesn't pay attention to it, so his involvement with Ms. Muller or his sudden obsession with Chris doesn't give him any reason to wonder what his orientation is. He doesn't care.

— he's in love with Chris, but he sees those feelings as a manifestation of his pride in him.

— his bathroom shelf is filled with various self-care products, and he is very worried about his appearance. First, the smell of his perfume enters the room, and then Wesker enters.

— Ms. Muller was not just a «one-night stand» for him, there was a warm relationship between them, because she remained in good opinion of him and even kept the child. This is a side of Wesker that is unknown to the players, because he had no opportunity or chance to show it. I think they broke up because Wesker was getting too attached to this woman and she was becoming his weakness, and he «can't have weaknesses». His job may have also interfered with the relationship, causing Muller to make her own decision to get out of his way, keeping the good memories alive. Wesker, on the other hand, tried to forget about that pleasant time with her so it wouldn't interfere with him.

— he is not ashamed to recognize someone else's merits and praise another person. He appreciates people who are good at something, he is sincere about it.

— Wesker is not a villain and an antagonist, he is the anti-villain. He has all the personality traits that fit that definition. He is not the pure evil that many believe him to be due to their inattention.

— he can cook, and he does it well. Wesker is known for being great at everything and cooking is no exception. Back in the days of S.T.A.R.S., he took care of his healthy diet, but once he gained power and became a bioterrorist, he stopped cooking for himself, preferring to order food from restaurants or have a personal chef. Because of the virus, he doesn't need to eat as often as normal people, so he really enjoys the process, since it rarely happens.

— because of his principles or Spencer's upbringing, Wesker can't directly harm a child. Children have never been a target for him, and he considers it beneath his dignity.

— his name is a mononym. Wesker doesn't call himself Albert and doesn't like it when others do (but doesn't stop them out of politeness). He is Wesker to everyone and to himself. However, there is a contradiction here — he hates the word «Wesker» and this whole project. Surely he must have considered changing his name if he had achieved the evolution of humanity. He still uses his initials AW when necessary.

Leon S Kennedy

— Leon has no color preference, he wears whatever clothes he feels comfortable in. He doesn't care if the colors don't match.

— he loves children and is easy to get along with.

— he uses feminine shower gels and likes sweet scents.

— likes to drink to relax or for any other reason. But he doesn't smoke.

— the music that Leon likes is very hard to define. He is probably a music lover who listens to whatever he likes.

— Leon isn't shy about swearing. He likes to make silly jokes to lighten the mood.

— He knows how to cook, but not very well, but these skills are enough for him. Leon can make toast or fry eggs, but it would be difficult for him to cook something more complicated, so he often watches tutorials on the Internet or eats fast food.

— Leon is bisexual and he knows it. He's crazy about Ada Wong, but he tries to hide it, which is unsuccessful.

— he likes karaoke.

— it annoyed him that if he showed up in any kind of transportation, there was a high probability of an accident or something. He sometimes wondered if he was a loser.

— he had a girlfriend once, but the affair was so casual that it broke up after almost a month.

— In school he had average grades, Leon could not be called a bad student, but he was not an excellent student either.

Ada Wong

— her favorite color is not only red, but also black.

— she loves elegant clothes and doesn't care if they don't fit her work. Despite the design, Ada chooses only clothes in which she can move freely.

— only Wesker knows her real name, and her name «Ada Wong» is just a rehash of «AW» (Albert Wesker).

— I like to think that she and Wesker could have acted like best friends, but voluntarily opted out for personal reasons.

— Ada pretends not to like music, but she actually likes «Marina and the Diamonds». She listens to these songs alone, in a deserted place.

— she smoked once, but she quit. She doesn't drink.

— Ada doesn't have any holidays, she doesn't even celebrate her own birthday.

— she's straight, and she's openly attracted to Leon.

— loves subtle scents in perfume, she always smells nice, but this scent is barely perceptible.

— Ada can't cook and hasn't tried to learn. She eats food from cafes and prefers to go there herself instead of having it delivered.

— She has no problem with foreign languages, she probably knows a few besides English.

— she was an honors student in school and she's easy to learn new things.

— Ada is an anti-hero.

Alex Wesker

— Alex's favorite color is white. It is the color of sterility and truth that she strives for in her research.

— I guess her full name is Alexandra.

— loves getting her nails done to cheer herself up. Due to illness and failed experiments, she is always in a bad mood, so taking care of herself helps her keep her head cool and rational.

— Alex loved her own short hair, which she had in the past, but it reminded her too much of Albert, whom she respected. Because of what she knew about «Project W» and the truth about them, Alex felt a kind of guilt for keeping her brother in the dark and lying. So she changed her image so she wouldn't think about it.

— she's a lesbian.

— Alex knows Russian.

— she must have a secret altar in her house dedicated to Albert.

— she respects Albert so much that she even tries to think and act like him. It is forbidden to insult her brother in her presence, even though they have hardly ever met and are not related.

— Alex did grieve when she learned of her brother's death in the volcano. But when she learned of his death in 1998, she was not sad, because she had not yet had time to get to know him so well and get into his personality.

— the clothes Alex wears are formal and office style. She doesn't like to wear something informal because she feels insecure in it.

— the mole under her eye is painted, or appeared there with age.

— Alex likes only classical music, her ear cannot perceive anything from modern genres.

— Has never thought about relationships, but can admit if she likes someone.

— Alex's only humor is black.

— often communicates with quotes from books, like someone quotes from songs. This helps her to express her thoughts properly and emphasize them.

— she's a lot harder to piss off than Albert.

[rootsofdread]

you can't handle the uber instinct of my uber autism, observe

i love your writing so much i've been binging them until i've caught up with everything 😭 it's sooooo good i wanna save it and read it whenever i feel bored

if possible could i request hcs with danny, wesker, leon and ada with a gn!reader who often unknowingly rambles about their interests despite any circumstances?

truly we are all autistic about dbd (<- also autistic about dbd)

anddd thank you so so much!! i'm so glad you enjoy my writing that much! <33

Leon S. Kennedy:

Leon honestly admires your ability to enjoy any situation by talking about the things you like. It lifts his spirits, too, to see you so carefree and enjoying the moment. Even if the killer is a few feet away and you two are hiding in a locker.

You’re great at helping kill time while doing generators like this, always having something to say and something to chat about. It can be boring doing generators, especially if the killer is busy with someone else, so having someone to talk to is nice.

He may not really know what you’re talking about — he doesn’t know much about a lot of things, he never really had the time to be reading about different things before being taken due to his job — but he enjoys learning new things from someone as passionate as you. You make it fun.

When you realize you've been rambling to him and apologizes, he tells you that you don't need to. He appreciates the company and the conversation you provide, even if you don't realize it.

Ada Wong:

Ada may seem like she’s not paying attention, and sometimes she may be devoting a little extra focus to looking out for the killer, but she always is paying attention to you. She’s just a little aloof and has trouble getting along with others, but she loves you and listens to you even if it may not look like it.

She enjoys the “background noise” you provide while you two work on generators. By focusing on your words more than the work, you help her a lot by relieving the pressure of getting it right. And she’s grateful for that.

You quell her nerves by whispering to her when the two of you hide. The adrenaline tells her that she should tell you to keep quiet so you’re not found — but her love for you compels her to do the opposite. You being so carefree helps her calm down in stressful moments.

She never wants you to feel like you shouldn’t talk about things you enjoy. She tells you that you never need to apologize for rambling, that she enjoys it, and she asks you to keep going if you’d like to. She’s soothed by the sound of your voice.

Danny Johnson / The Ghostface:

Danny absolutely loves you being such a chatterbox. Information is his bread and butter, and knowing more about you and what you like is one of his most favorite things. So he happily lets you talk whenever you like, even if he’s attempting to sneak around with Night Shroud. He just reminds you to whisper and let him do his work.

He’s surprised when you even try to strike up a conversation about your interests while on the hook. Doesn’t that hurt? But he shrugs and decides to let you continue. Who is he to stop you after all — and there’s no rules that say you can’t talk while on hook. He just hopes you don’t accidentally give him away.

Truth be told, he probably already knows a lot about what you enjoy. That's his job, after all. He still lets you talk, though, of course — he would never deny you that. And he just loves listening to you, and surprising you by knowing precisely what you're going on about.

He thinks it's adorable when you realize how much you've been talking and get embarrassed. He always encourages you to go on and keep talking, he's riveted, he would love to hear more, please.

Albert Wesker / The Mastermind:

Wesker always loves learning, and believe it or not, he probably doesn’t know much about what you’re rambling about. He doesn’t have the time to waste on silly mortal things, you know, so chances are he wouldn’t already know anything about it. And if he’s nothing else, Wesker is a seeker of knowledge.

He finds it amusing you’ll always seek him out during trials to talk to him. And he always pays attention to you when you do, even while he’s trying to hunt down the other survivors. He finds it especially amusing when you run to catch up to him after he rushes to slam someone into a wall.

He tells you to hold on for a second when he carries someone off to a hook. When he returns to you, he tells you that you may continue. He needs to be focused to hook someone and doesn’t want you thinking he’s not paying attention to you.

Every time you apologize for rambling, he insists that you continue. He won’t have you feeling ashamed for enjoying yourself. You deserve to know that your rambling isn’t an issue and that he always has time for you, much more than seven minutes.

[deadbydangit]

helloooooo!!!

i wanted to request something if you dont mind :)

how do you think the killers (of your choice) would react to string tricks? like a survivor that specializes on doing very fun tricks with strings?

if this is very confusing, sorry 😅

thanks!

I'm not too sure what string tricks are, but I do know of yo-yo tricks. I can write about that. I hope that's an okay substitute. Please enjoy.

With a reader who could do yo-yo tricks: Mastermind, Hillbilly, Huntress

Mastermind

A yo-yo?

"Aren't you a bit old for that?"

"That seems rather childish."

Don't let Wesker's pretentious talking discourage you from doing what you love.

Just because he finds it childish doesn't mean he'll make you stop.

He wishes you would spend time learning something more useful.

Alas, he will not complain about it.

"Well, I suppose it promotes good hand eye coordination."

"Very well dearheart. If it makes you that happy."

People outright tell you to leave him alone, but he isn't too interested in your tricks.

Again, it just isn't something that's practical.

"Why don't you practice something useful. Like using a gun or learning the chemical formulas I'm studying?"

His idea of fun and your idea of fun may be totally different.

However, he does enjoy seeing the look on your face when you're practicing.

You have this child-like innocence that he finds irresistible and adorable.

Like, for that moment, you're able to ignore all the horrible awful things in the world.

Like you're able to focus on only the good and pure things.

He actually finds himself rather jealous.

During times when he feels like everything is hopeless he'll often come and watch you.

It gives him a sense of hope that he had otherwise thought he had lost.

"Dearheart, would you please show me that trick where the yo-yo goes over your head? I enjoy that one."

Even if he finds the talent ridiculous, he loves seeing the joy on your face.

Hillbilly

"What's that?"

Max has never seen one before.

Maybe on tv, but never in real life.

He was deprived of all those fun things a normal child would have.

Even doing the most basic thing with the yo-yo Max finds amazing.

So when you show him tricks?

He's in awe.

Like he had seen a unicorn or something.

"Again!"

You'll hear that at least five more times after you've done a trick.

He can't help it.

The person he loves the most doing such amazing things?

"It's magic!"

You'll have to explain to Max that, no, it isn't magic.

He wants to try!

You can try and teach him, but he'll usually end up hitting himself in the face trying to do some elaborate trick.

He's easily discouraged because he has been told his whole life that he was useless.

But don't let him give up. Make sure you show him the basics and do so slowly.

He'll pick it up eventually.

And when he does, you better believe he'll be showing you the trick about 50 times.

Even if it's just making the yo-yo go up and down like normal.

He's really trying hard to impress you, so make sure you praise him a lot.

Huntress

Like Max, Anna will also be in awe.

However, she knows that it isn't magic.

She does think it's some sort of weapon though.

She had never seen a yo-yo before.

She'll want to try out this new and unique 'weapon' of yours.

You're going to have to explain to her that no, it isn't a weapon.

That it's a hobby; a toy you could learn tricks with.

To her, anything could be used as a weapon. But she won't break your favorite toy by trying to use it as a weapon.

She knows doing something like that would hurt you. It would be like someone breaking her mask.

As someone who has practiced the art of throwing hatchets meticulously, she appreciates the time and effort you've put into learning the yo-yo.

Even if it doesn't do any damage, she's still really impressed by you.

She might want to try it.

Make sure you show her how to hold it properly and the correct strength to use.

We all know how strong Anna is and how unaware she is of that strength.

She might accidentally yank the string so hard the yo-yo part comes off.

If that's happened she'll be devastated and crying, begging for your forgiveness.

Asure her that you aren't upset.

You'll just have to teach her to be a little more careful.

She's a fast learner, she picks up on things very quickly.

And, with her axe throwing skills, she's able to learn the yo-yo even faster.

She claims the wrist flicking motions are very similar.

Once she gets good enough, try and find her own yo-yo.

Because she'll be playing with it all the time.

And, when she has her own, she'll get to play with you.

To her, that's the best part about it.

[unnerving-presence]

Saw the video of Wesker moaning while vaulting

Could you do an imagine of reader accidentally walking in on that and without thinking just says "oop- sorry daddy." Before they just quickly backtrack the fuck outta there?

yall love calling this man daddy huh

i dont blame you i do too

sorry if my writing is off here ! i dont write drabbles very often so im not very familiar with this kind of writing ! i hope this (quite literal) joke of a drabble is enough !

here’s the video if y’all r curious LMAO

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

The sound of your heartbeat was the only thing you were focused on as you treaded through the ominous halls of the Raccoon City Police Station. No matter how many times you tried, you felt as if you couldn't do anything but wait for your inevitable death while you were trapped in this dreaded realm. You didn't know the area. How could you possibly navigate around this place if you were as lost as a needle in a haystack? The only thing you knew was that one area made you feel safe. The S.T.A.R.S. office. Maybe if you waited it out in there you would be spared from all the pain and suffering, or at least most of it if the killer couldn't find you.

Reaching the end of the hallway, you turn and cautiously tip-toed through the doorway only to be met with the one man you hoped you wouldn't have to run into during your time in this trial.

Albert Wesker.

It felt as if you were disturbing the peace just by being there. Almost immediately, he turned to you with a smirk, like he knew you were coming to this spot you once called a safe haven. He knew you would come here, and that feeling of security knowing you wouldn't be found is long gone. It only makes your eyes widen in fear.

"No more hiding."

Flipping the knife in his hand, he swiftly vaults the window with a small grunt of effort. This snapped you out of your moment of daze. You had to go, fast. All the fear surged up inside of you as your body finally followed what your brain was thinking. With that came a poor choice of words.

"Oop- sorry, daddy-!"

You had no time to dwell on the words you spoke, the only thing rushing through your mind was to get the hell out of that room and run until you could no longer hear any other footsteps other than your own.

Wesker had a brief moment of shock at your words. He wasn't expecting it, but it did just make things a whole lot more fun for him. If his ego weren't big then, it is now. You may not know it yet, but you just made a grave mistake. For him? It's a miracle.

[aceghosts]

Be Mine Forever

Summary: On Valentine's day, you reminisce about your former lover, Albert Wesker. A series of memories set through your time at S.T.A.R.S. Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death; Canon Typical Violence; Sexual Harassment (Very brief and the dude gets what's coming to him), Grief/Mourning, Boss/Employee Relationship, and Possessive Behavior. Let me know if I need to tag for anything else. Words: 3.8 k Author's Note: This is a gift for @mydisenchantedeulogy as part of @carlosoliveiraa's My Bloody Valentine's Day Gift Exchange! Amanda, thank you for letting me participate! Sugar, I really hope you like this! I had a lot of fun writing this.

AO3

Snow crunches beneath your boots as you head home from your late shift at the police station. Your breath comes out in misty puffs in the cold February air, gloved hands shoved in your pockets. A gust of wind blows, shivering as it tosses your hair in your face. You brush your hair out of your face, lamps lighting your way home as you walk along the crowded city sidewalk. Passing by a local restaurant, you catch sight of happy couples through the window, enjoying romantic candle-lit dinners. Stepping out of the way of other strangers on the sidewalk, you stop, an overwhelming sadness encompasses you. Those couples look so happy, so in love, especially the pair closest to the window. He gazes into her eyes, full of adoration, holding her hands with no regard for others around them. That should have been you and him. You should have been gazing lovingly into his cold blue eyes, holding his hand as he talked. Just the two of you together. Why couldn’t this be you and him?

Because he had chosen another path, one where you could not follow him.

Letting out a mournful sigh, you begin your journey home once again. Valentine’s Day, a holiday you once merely tolerated, was now a day of pain. All because of Albert Wesker. You hear his voice in your head, shaking it off. It was no use thinking of him; Albert was dead, and even worse, he had betrayed S.T.A.R.S., you included. When you spoke with your former team members, you pretended to be angry, yet that anger came from a real place, a different place. They were angry because of his betrayal. You were angry that he chose death over you. He chose ambition and power games over you. Yet, your heart longs for him, wishing to feel the warm comfort of his arms around you once again. You couldn’t help but mourn the man you loved; mourn the future you envisioned with him.

“Why Albert? Why?” You ask quietly, knowing no one will answer you. As you walk, memories of your days with Albert and S.T.A.R.S. play out.

—

A position on the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team was something you dreamed of and fought like hell for. Irons thought you didn’t deserve to be on the team, but Enrico vouched for you, asserting that you were the right fit, that you could carry your weight. Wesker, your Captain at the time, accepted you as a member of the team reluctantly. He would later admit, when it was just you two in bed late at night, that letting you on the team was one of the best decisions that he ever made. He would pick you to be a part of the team, again and again. Unfortunately, not everyone felt the same way.

Paul was a pain in your ass from the moment you met him, a bully to everyone around him. He hated you the most, believing you stole his spot on the Alpha team.  Fortunately for you, he was terrified of Wesker, slinking away whenever he saw the Captain. Paul would also back off (albeit reluctantly) when Barry or Chris stepped in. As you hit the punching bag, alone in the station gym late at night, you hear a familiar annoying voice. “Hey!” You stop, turning to find Paul striding towards him. You give him your best glare, one that would frighten most. “What? A fellow officer can’t say hello?”

“What do you want?” You really wish Wesker was here. Or Chris. Or Barry. Hell, you would even settle for Brad, who was slightly intimidated by Paul.

He sneers, crowding into your space. You step back, knowing there is limited room between you and the bag. “You too good for the rest of us now, huh? Being part of S.T.A.R.S. has really gone to your head.”

You don’t think you’re too good for anyone. (Well, you might be better than a few people, Paul included.) “I am, or at least, I know I’m better than you, Paul. I earned my spot on the team.” You really shouldn’t push Paul’s buttons, but God, does it feel so good. 

“Fuck off,” He says, hands clenching into fists, “You probably had to sleep your way onto the team, huh? You sleep with Wesker to-.” Red colors your vision, anger flaring in your chest. Wesker might be a hardass, but you respect the hell out of him, and you won’t let anyone besmirch his name.

Without thinking, you throw a punch, catching Paul in the stomach. He coughs, doubling over with a wheeze of pain. As he stumbles back, he curses, “you fucking asshole, I’m going to-.”

“You are going to what?” A familiar, cold voice cuts in, and as you look over to your left, you find Wesker watching the both of you intently. His posture is a little tense, compared to the normally controlled discipline. You feel something radiating off him, something akin to a frosty rage.

Paul straightens up quickly, playing the victim. “Captain Wesker! I was just asking them what they were doing here, and they attacked me!”

Wesker smirks. “Is that what happened?” He asks, coming next to you, “From where I was standing, you were harassing one of my officers. What was it you said? That they had to sleep their way on the team?”

Color drains from Paul’s face.  “I-I wasn’t-.”

He holds his hand up, cutting Paul off with a sneer on his face. “I think it’s time I made something very clear: you never had a spot on the Alpha team. You were never considered for a number of reasons, and,” Wesker places a hand on your shoulder, “They have proven themself to be a true asset to the team. I am proud to serve as their captain. If you were on my team, I would quit.” Wesker’s hand leaves your shoulder as he steps closer to Paul. “Now, are you going to leave them alone? Or do you need more encouragement?”

Paul nods, swallowing fearfully as he backs away. “Yes, Captain,” He says, before turning tail and fleeing.

Letting out a relieved sigh, you say, “Thanks for helping. Paul’s been a pain in my ass since I started.”

Wesker nods. “Why did you punch him?” He asks, a note of genuine curiosity. You notice he is more relaxed now that Paul is gone.

Your cheeks heat up, feeling slightly embarrassed. “He insulted you by saying that you slept with me for my spot on the team.”

“Not for yourself?”

Shaking your head, you say, “I really like you as a Captain. I’ve learned a lot being a part of Alpha team, more than anywhere else. I respect you a lot.” It’s more than respect, but you aren’t about to admit that. You swear you catch a look of delight on his face as you pause for a second, before asking, “Did you really mean it when you said that I’m an asset to the team?”

Wesker nods. “I do,” He says, giving you an approving look, “You’ve proven yourself to be a fine officer. I had my doubts when Enrico suggested you, but you continue to surpass my expectations everyday.” His words surprise you, but delight you, especially the surpassing expectations part. Smirking, he adds with a rather teasing tone, “I look forward to you continuing to do so, but please don’t punch anyone else on my behalf.”

You nod, letting out a small laugh. No more punching anyone on Wesker’s behalf, but you’ll still defend his honor verbally. Never said anything about putting someone in their place with a well-timed tongue-lashing.

A few weeks later, Paul disappears. You hear something about him accepting a job at another police station, wishing his new coworkers the best.  

—

At S.T.A.R.S., you continue to make Wesker proud, determined to be the best you can be. You work harder than you ever have, putting in blood, sweat, and tears. Wesker demands so much more of the team and more. His training is rigorous, but you feel prepared for whatever may come your and Alpha Team’s way. And as much as you loathe to admit, a part of you yearns for praises from Wesker. When he tells you that you’ve done well with a slightly approving tone, a rush of pride overwhelms you, a faint heat on your cheeks. And you swear that you’ve caught him smirking at that once or twice, especially in after-hours training where he’ll lean down, speaking the words of praise into your ear. It always sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine. And, it definitely doesn’t help with that tiny crush you have.

One night, late after the rest of your teammates have gone home, you return to the station to pick up the book you were reading, left in the top drawer of your desk. As you reach the door of the S.T.A.R.S. office, you find Wesker alone, his office door open. He looks frustrated as he stares down at the paperwork, sunglasses on his desk. His hand runs through his hair, a few platinum blond strands falling loose. Wesker sighs, and your heart twinges a little. You can’t do Wesker’s paperwork for him, but you want to help in whatever way you can. A thought pops into your mind, and you head to the staff break room, ready to put your plan into action.

“Wesker?” His head snaps up, looking at you with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.   

“What brings you to the station this late at night?” Wesker asks, placing the pen down as his gaze lands on the cup of coffee in your hand. He snorts. “Surely, the station coffee can’t be that good…”

You shake your head. “I came back to pick up my book, but I saw you, and…” you trail off slightly, feeling slightly shy, “I thought you could use a cup of coffee.” You hold out the Styrofoam cup of coffee for Wesker to take.

Suspicious, Wesker looks between you and the cup in your hands, eyes narrowed as if you might have poisoned it. Eventually, he relents, taking the cup from your hand. His fingers briefly make contact with your fingers, sending a spark of pleasure through you. Taking a sip of the coffee, Wesker looks pleased, raising an eyebrow. “This does not taste like the normal sludge that comes from the break room.”

“I know where all the good creamers and coffee are hidden,” You say proudly, taking a seat at Wesker’s desk.  

Wesker smiles, taking another sip of coffee. “A hidden talent perhaps?’

“I have many hidden talents,” you flirt, a devilish smile on your lips, “Maybe, I’ll show you sometime.”

He smiles, a darkly hungry look in his eyes. “Perhaps, you will.”

That damn man. How unfair he make you feel this way. One of the loose blond strands of hair briefly falls in his face, and you’re struck with the need to push it back for him. Impulsively, you rise and lean over the desk, your hand reaching towards him. You gently push his hair back, your fingers grazing his skin softly. Wesker grabs your wrist tightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to hold you in place. His lips are slightly parted, pupils wide. “I’m sorry,” You apologize, hoping you didn’t cross a line, “I wanted to help.”

Wesker releases your wrist, allowing you to draw your hand away, the ghost of his touch still haunting you. “Don’t apologize.” Sitting back down in your seat, you’re relieved to see that Wesker isn’t upset. Rather, he seems delighted by your touch. “I did not expect it, but,” he emphasizes that word, “That does not mean I did not like it.”

Your heart leaps at those words, butterflies in your stomach. “Good,” You say softly, before deciding to change the subject, “Do you need help with something else?”

“No,” He says, shaking his head, “I should be done soon, especially thanks to your coffee.” You straighten up with pride, always hungry for the tiniest bits of praise. “You should go home for the night.”

Heeding his advice, you get up from your chair. “Have a good night, Wesker.”

“You as well,” He replies, a teasing smirk on his face, “Sweet dreams.” What a cruel man. Like that isn’t going to haunt you for the rest of the night.

—

You sip your beer, watching Jill lineup her shot as you lean against the bar. Tonight, you’re at one of the local bars in Raccoon City with the Alpha and Bravo team, watching your teammates play Pool.  It’s not a bad way to spend a Friday night; you actually like the rest of your team and don’t mind spending a Friday night with them every once in a while. Even better, Wesker is here with the rest of you at the bar tonight, a rare occurrence.

Someone leans against the bar next to you. Looking over to your right, you realize it’s Wesker, beer in hand as he asks, “No interest in Pool?”

You shake your head. “I have fun playing Pool, but I thought I would sit this round out.” He nods, the silence settling around you two. You can’t help but wonder why Wesker is here. He always seems so busy, like he’s got something that he is hiding from the rest of you.

“You seem like you have something to ask,” He says, taking a sip of his beer.

Letting curiosity get the best of you, you ask, “Why are you here? You don’t normally join us,” before adding quickly a moment later, “not that anyone is complaining.” Well, that’s a lie. A few people did complain, namely that they would have to be on better behavior since Wesker was there. You definitely weren’t complaining; you were very happy to see him.

“I wanted to be here.”

Tilting your head, you wonder why Wesker would want to be here. No offense, but the cheap dive bar that Alpha and Bravo teams hung out at never seemed like his type of place. Wesker always stood out, like this was all beneath him. “Really?”

He nods. “Are you surprised?”

You shrug. “Kinda. I thought you might have something else to do. Or maybe, someone waiting for you at home.”

“There is no one waiting for me at home,” he slides closer, your breath catching in your throat, “And you? Is there someone waiting for you?” 

Shaking your head, you reply, “No, I’m single.” Since you met Wesker, most potential partners hadn’t measured up to him. Maybe it’s the beer or maybe it’s being so close to him, you decide to take a chance. “But there is someone that I’m interested in.”

“Do tell.”

You swallow nervously, your heart pounding. “Well, he works at RCPD with us.”

Wesker groans. “Please tell me it isn’t Redfield.”

“It’s not.” Chris was a good friend, nothing more. “He is a member of S.T.A.R.S.,” Wesker raises an eyebrow, “Everyone thinks he standoffish, but I think they’re wrong. He expects the best and settles for nothing less. I find that very attractive in a man.” He takes another sip of his beer, but you get the feeling that Wesker has already caught on, with that knowing twinkle in his blue eyes. “But I can’t ask him out.”

“Why would that be?”

“I don’t know if he would say yes,” You admit honestly, finding Wesker difficult to read at times, “And he’s my boss.”

 “Would you like to get out of here with me? Perhaps dinner?” He asks, placing his beer on the bar as you watch him with eyes wide. Was he really-?

“Yes,” you nod your head, excitement rising in your chest, “Yes, I would love to.”

“Good. I’ll leave first. Leave fifteen minutes after I do; I will be waiting for you outside.”

You watch him leave, on cloud nine. Holy shit, this was happening; this was really happening.

—

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart cracking into pieces. Albert, your Albert, was a plant for Umbrella. Or he used to be one. Apparently, Albert was moving on to bigger and better things. But he only had one problem: S.T.A.R.S. He lured you and the rest of S.T.A.R.S. to Arklay, to die here, your fates unknown to the rest of the world. You tremble, taking shaky breaths as you blink back tears. Was your whole relationship a lie? A helpful cover to make Albert seem normal? “Albert…” His name slips from your lips.

Albert focuses on you, a sneer on his face. “Sorry, you had to be here for this, Dearheart. Perhaps, things would have been different for us in another life.”

Bullshit. The way he says it so flippantly makes you angry, red coloring your vision. “Fuck you,” You snarl, “You can make things different now. You don’t have to do this!”

“I don’t want to, Dearheart. It was always going to happen this way.” You wince, the words cutting deeply. Behind Albert, the glass splinters, the giant tyrant behind him awake. With a swift swipe, its long claws bury themselves directly into Albert’s chest. He gasps in pain, his eyes still on you. You see the fear in his eyes, and maybe due to a little wishful thinking, you see something like regret. Albert coughs up blood, dribbling down his chin onto his shirt. His hand twitches, slightly in your direction. That thing simply tosses him aside like a piece of garbage.

“ALBERT!” You scream, a painful howl of grief and anger. You step towards him, attempting to run for him. Despite everything he had done, he was your Albert, and you still loved him.

Jill grabs your shoulders roughly, holding you back from Albert. You try to scramble from her grip, but she holds tight as you scream. “Don’t! He’s dead!” She says, her fingers digging in as she tries to pull you back. Logically, you know Jill is right, but your heart desperately wants you to go to him, to run towards him. Maybe, Albert really isn’t dead. Maybe, you still have a chance to save him. “Barry, get them out of here.”

Barry nods, pulling you away from Jill. “Come on, we need to get out of here.” He looks over to Jill, who is only focused on the tyrant, her face determined.

“I’ll take care of this guy and meet you upstairs.”

He guides you away from Jill and the tyrant, back towards the door. “Be safe, Jill.” Your eyes are still on Albert, lifeless and motionless in a puddle of blood on the floor. His eyes are hollow, devoid of the intense storm of emotion you saw in his eyes. Why? Why did he have to do this? To leave you alone?

As Barry pulls you out of the lab, all you can think is: Is there some way you could have changed this?

—

Opening the door to your apartment, you let out a relieved sigh, stepping into the darkness. Flicking on the hallway light, you close the door behind you, dropping your keys into the bowl. You hang up your coat and scarf before eventually discarding your gloves on the table beside the bowls for your keys. Heading towards your kitchen, you glance over towards your living room. Stopping dead in your tracks, shock washes over you as your heart pounds loudly in your ears. That-that couldn’t be….

“Hello Dearheart,” Your former boss and lover says, sitting in your oversized armchair. He stands, shrouded in the dark of your apartment.

“This-This isn’t real…,” You try to rationalize it, tears welling in your eyes, “We watched you die. I watched you die.”

“I’m very real, Dearheart. Would you like to see for yourself?” He holds out his gloved hand for you to take.

You approach him cautiously, fearful that this might be your lonely heart playing a trick on you. Yet, this vision looks so much like your Albert. Sounds so much like him. You place your hand in his, allowing Albert to draw you close. He feels real as his other arm wraps around your waist, a familiar smirk on his face. He feels so much like your Albert. “Albert, is that-is that you?”

“Yes, I promise I am myself, Dearheart,” He replies, releasing your hand. His hand comes up to your face, gently wiping away tears that you didn’t know were falling. If this is a dream, you don’t ever want to wake up, even if he was a goddamn asshole who betrayed you. You want to stay here with Albert forever. Yet, something about him still feels off, not quite right. You need to see his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes. Your hands reach up, gently taking his sunglasses off. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare into his eyes, once blue, now a molten gold against a burning red. His eyes are feline-like, reminding you of a panther. They’re so inhuman, yet something about them is divine. “Scared, Dearheart?”

“No.” You shake your head. You should be, but you aren’t. Albert is back, and you don’t care if some things about him are different. And you like the way he looks at you, utterly possessive, utterly adoring. “Is this why you’re still alive?”

He nods. “One of the few to survive the process.”

Another thought comes to you. Why come back? He was content to let you think he was dead for so long. Why come back to you now? “Why come back for me, Albert? I thought I didn’t matter to you.”

“I believed I did not need you, Dearheart, but I was wrong. I want you; I need you.” The words roll off his tongue naturally, sounding so believable. You so desperately want to believe him, to believe that he came back for you. “You belong to me, Dearheart. I always come back for what belongs to me.”

“Is that your way of asking me to come with you? To leave everything behind?”

He nods. “Come with me. Be mine forever.”

“Yes.” You don’t need to think about it; you want Albert-you always have. You drop his glasses, taking his face into your hands as you kiss him roughly. With both of his hands on your waist, he pulls you against him, eagerly returning the kiss. Albert is overwhelming, your head dizzy and your legs slightly weak. He bites your bottom lip, your mouth opens for him. You missed this; you missed him so much.

You whine as he pulls away, desperate and in need of him. “We will have time for that later, Dearheart, but we need to leave. Now.”

And you don’t look back, allowing Albert Wesker to whisk you away to a new life.  

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

why do people write leon into incest/ rape stories? I get that people think he's hot but there is literally no aspect of his character that would warrant that kind of characterisation. I would just like to understand why out of all, you could have written shit like this about villains but not Leon, he would never do that. And I'm not talking about fics that showcase Leon's trauma and how he turned mean or does questionable things, sometimes I really enjoy reading those. It's only when those stories are only fabricated purely because of kinks that it disgusts me. Porn without plot, no explanation given, just him being a pervert and an asshole. Genuinely why do people write that and still claim to be resident evil fans, still claim to understand and love the characters. It doesn't add up to me at all. This is not directly at you specifically but just at people who do this and since you have written content in that category, I would love to hear your explanation. :(

why do people write leon into incest/ rape stories?

i think everyone's reasons are different, and ultimately, as long as it's just fiction, it doesn't really matter what someone writes about.

some people write dark content because they're into it, some people write it to cope with past trauma (there is quite a bit of overlap in those two categories). it's an avenue for exploration of these ideas that doesn't hurt anyone. whether that be in terms of exploring your own feelings or just trying to challenge your writing abilities and be creative.

I get that people think he's hot but there is literally no aspect of his character that would warrant that kind of characterisation.

i think his characterization is complex and a lot of people get it "wrong" (but i'm not here to argue about his characterization). i also have written him in ways that i would consider "ooc" - both in dark content and in fluff. i feel like i see people often complaining about leon being 'mischaracterized' in dark content, but people are not critical of him in fluff (or fluffy smut).

this is not to say that we need to be critical or stick to canon - if we wanted to stick to canon entirely, then we wouldn't create fanfiction at all. we're writing to explore situations that are not portrayed in the source material.

i think it's fun to make posts analyzing characterization and i think it's fun to write both in character fic and out of character fic, but i think those two things (analysis and fiction) should be separate.

would just like to understand why out of all, you could have written shit like this about villains but not Leon

you sure could write about the villains! a lot of people have written fics about wesker, for example. i personally don't find a lot of the resident evil villains that interesting, and if i did, i honestly think that humanizing them would make for a more interesting concept than showing their evilness.

he would never do that

correct. he's not real, so he wouldn't *do* anything.

It's only when those stories are only fabricated purely because of kinks that it disgusts me.

that's absolutely a fair opinion. i have kinks/topics that i'm uncomfortable with too. i have a low tolerance for "ick" i would say, so like vomit, scat, cannibalism, tentacles, etc. i can't read those things because it makes me feel nauseous. i don't read those types of stories for that reason!

i personally don't have a kink for noncon or incest. i have written incest on commission before because i am fine with other people enjoying it. i have written stepcest once, however (and while i think my point may have been too subtle for the audience to notice), it was supposed to be more than a "pwp" fic. it was supposed to showcase his manipulation of her.

the noncon that i have written has been not kink related and i think when you read it, it's pretty obvious. a lot of that was coping with personal trauma.

the thing is though, i don't have to justify this to you. i'm honestly just yapping about my content because i enjoy it atp

why do people write that and still claim to be resident evil fans, still claim to understand and love the characters.

i do understand and love the characters! i have played most of the mainline games for hundreds of hours (4 platinum trophies thus far!). i understand when i'm writing them ooc. i've written characters *way* more out of character than i have leon. for example, i made brad and richard both super homophobic in a fic when there's no evidence to say that they are.

i think it's fine to write characters ooc! also, characterization is kind of complex. just because something isn't said in canon, doesn't mean it isn't true (or isn't implied). for example, jill, in my eyes (and many others), is a lesbian. chris is also very queer-coded. though, neither of them are outright stated to be queer. i have written chris in straight relationships (as have others) despite the fact that i believe he is gay.

tl;dr

while it is interesting to analyze why people enjoy certain things, there's no sense in shaming people for what they enjoy when it's not hurting anyone else. writing about a fictional character doesn't hurt anyone because the person being written about isn't real.

so basically, in conclusion, does it really matter? (no)

[nshtn]

Hello, I hope these questions are okay!

Do you have any specific fav topics about Wesker you love to yap about? :3

And topics where you just hope you will never come across those again? (sry for that question...)

I love to talk about his childhood and how he changes after killing Spencer. It's fun to talk about how he would approach virology, epidemiology and surgery, and what topics related to biology he'd find interest in. I like delving into his personal relationship with Chris, Jill, and Birkin.

My favorite variety of Wesker to write the mind of is RE5 / TRICELL era, but the Wesker whose voice I find most beautiful and whose dialogue I find the most fun to pen is original RE4, Richard Waugh - every bit The Mastermind as he is later called.

I think in terms of my own fanon, some of my favorite topics to approach in writing are Wesker with anything medical (like the T shot xreader), Wesker and small situations that he handles so differently in his lack of understanding of civilian life (like Birkin's Snickers offering), and the way his vulnerability pours forward brokenly in the privacy of a warm-bodied P30 recipient.

Topics I don't find any enjoyment in writing are the S.T.A.R.S betrayal, his brief military stint, and anything with a specific lean in James Marcus in grand detail (flashbacks are different - they're detached). and the weakest link that I struggle to write and typically avoid is the quiet struggle after the Arklay & Mansion incident, my own fanon verse's version of the Spencer Murder, and the sadist half of Wesker's sadomasochism - I find torture scenes difficult to stumble through (and I have OCD, much like the characters I often pen).

Same questions but suggestive answers below. I'm pretty ace, so what is salacious to me is probably weak tea to you.

My favorite topics to write Wesker in are when he's doing something weird and sciency and medical. Medplay is the most entertaining and has the most potential for entertaining exploits - I've been thinking of writing Doctor Wesker taking care of his dearest little lab partner when they need a surgery, only for them to discover he's the lab tech, the surgeon, the anaesthesiologist, recovery technician, ride home and PT... because he "doesn't trust anyone else to do the job quite so well" (he wants to bask in your state of helplessness and abuse your delayed mind's vulnerabilities and lack of precautions to learn a lot more about you~).

Writing Wesker as a person whose obsession, which he expresses very inward as trailing monologue and shows on his exterior as a particularly laser-aimed powerplay, tendency to show off, and inappropriate responsibility rerouting (since he is clearly the best & most skilled) is something I have a massive affinity for. I really love writing about how, for this one little individual, he finds their kindnesses endearing and their compliance and shyness so cutely, adorably manipulable. There is something juicy in "when did they go from a tool to an indulgence, an indulgence to a gear he must have to function?" type of internal monologuing hahsjdfjfjks. The "what's gotten into him?" yearning is also precious and delicious.

I also find Uroboros Wesker fun to write. Tentacles, heat/rut, dubcon, restraints and his lack thereof mentally, the urge to merge/mutate, the inhuman urge to infect his little darling doe, erm... y'knowwww. Twiddles my fingers, twirls my hair. Smiles. /lh Anywayyyy...

S.T.A.R.S Wesker power dynamics between a rookie reader is something I've enjoyed reading and would like to pen someday. I love writing him as someone who initially approaches his job as any other, but slowly grows to feel conflicted about his role as he begins to experience the joys and mishaps of civilian life - and bleeds empathy when the people he saves look innocently into his liar eyes and thank him so sweetly. Also, y'know, Wesker in his full gear, adrenaline pumping and giving him a semi, pushing his rookie against the wall and giving them a hungry, pent-up, longing & lingering kiss that dishevels them before he straightens his collar and walks away with only a strand of hair billowing free and fine, microscopic pink dusting across his cheeks.

Cringe extra...

I like to privately write my little guy Hector and how he acts around his Wesker, too... they're cute together because he disarms all of Wesker's internal emotional bombs by being his earnest, straightforward, honest little self. Wesker isn't used to his question on why someone is digging in Valdelobos to be 'because I noticed the paleontological recordings were incomplete' rather than 'because I want that fat, sweet TRICELL publishing check'.

As for what I don't enjoy... I am a simple man! I don't like noncon, nonsexual abuse or genuinely malicious manipulation, bad ends, faux W-cest, or the... erm 'chesker (chambers & wesker) easter egg'. I'm also not a fan of choking, BJs, pregnancy or gags. I don't write super harsh degredation very well, either. Anything else is fair game!

[canineosteoblasts]

Chrisker Week Day One, sounds like fun!

Rating: Mature

Words: 2.2k

Pairing: Chris Redfield/Albert Wesker

Summary: In which Chris is stabbed, and Wesker is surprisingly helpful.

TW for depictions of a stab wound and treatment!

I had a lot of fun writing this! It’s not the best quality, I don’t think, but I enjoyed it when I read it back so I decided to post it. I’ll try and post a new work every day this week, but it’s currently finals week for my summer semester, so I’m not completely sure if I’ll be able to manage it.

Massive thanks to the lovely organizer(s) of Chrisker Week 2024 ( @chrisker-week ) for the prompt <3 Enjoy!

[destinationtrekk]

So I just thought up a weird and a little bit scary fic idea based on the entirety of ME!ME!ME! by Teddyloid(you should definitely listen to it, it's a bop fr)

Albert creates some B.O.W. clones of Chris to cope with his loneliness and it goes horribly wrong or right?

The Chris clones go feral when horny. They're hungry for Albert and they chase him in the halls of the laboratory.

After some... unconventional shenanigans(with consent of course), Albert wakes up in his bedroom to realize that all this chaos was just a wet dream.

Or was it?

i'll be 100% the song is not my vibe at all but it was fun! i really wish i was better at writing chris because i could have a field day with this

buuuuut my thoughts in general are that wesker absolutely plans to have a chris army to help him take over the world. despite their rivalry he respects chris deeply and actually doesn't mind (he enjoys) being around him - if only he would stop trying to ruin wesker's plan

so i really think any kind of... unconventional shenanigans.... actually are unexpected to him, not that he doesn't really enjoy it. i think at first its a mild inconvenience to constantly have his crush-clones all over him, but eventually it really does open his eyes to what could have been if he and chris weren't so headstrong and had mutual interests.

speaking of, i actually read the making of a home by sweetlikeblood on ao3 yesterday and this makes me think of that a lot. sorry if this wasn't what you expected, but i am alllllll for wesker having devious plans and very quickly getting more than he bargained for

[whiskers-my-beloved]

Fanart Of [enemy's daughter]

Fanfic link here please PLEASE GO READ IT. Make sure to show the author support!

Wesker is such a rat for this, going after Chris' daughter like this ^^; Hope he acutally cares for her. Or is it just me wishful thinking ? (Maybe there will be a happy end for them, who knows, cause he could piss Chris off even further he if stayed with her lol)

Bunnystalker thank you for writing great fanfics !

(We fans must support fanfic authors without them we are starving)

The RE4 Remake outfit he has seems pretty casuel for Weskers standards. Hence why I went for that after he and chris' daughter start dating

Drawing mini comics like this is a lot of fun ^^