#sparkle on wesker

[stimmadogs]

sniff.. sniff.. alucard ok?

https://cinnaverse.net/character/OFF-07692

✨ Alucard stimboard 💀 🖤 🍎✨

[butterflycultist]

💖✨️Sparkle on! It's Wesker Wednesday! Don't forget to be yourself!✨️💖

💖 x ✨️ x 💖

✨️ x 🩷 x ✨️

💖 x ✨️ x 💖

[whiskers-my-beloved]

Welcome to my Resident Evil Chibi Series.

Here the surviving S.T.A.R.S members plus Richard. Cause dude was such a bro in the game.

I recently beat the original RE1 Director's Cut on the ps1. It was fun and scary (less scary when I then married my wife the shotgun)

It inspired me to draw about RE and I thought why not something cute ? The games are scary enough for me. So here enjoy my chibi take !

Also btw @bunnystalker enjoy the Chibis. Your hexcode for Wesker made him look more like himself lol. The one I used before was way too off.

[bubbasbubblebutt]

This was for April fools originally but ya know what fuck it they're friends too

[vapormage]

I like when stimboards use other stimboards as their source, because you can follow a gif through wildly different stimboard. It's fun. Not good as far as sourcing goes but, you know, fun.

[weskie]

What The Heart Wants (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

960 words, loose followup to this, tentacle affection, post re5 wesker, scar care, wound tending, shared shower, fluff, light hurt/comfort, IMAGE SOURCE | Fic Directory

wesker is but a shell of the man he once was… accepting that your love remains unchanged has been difficult, yet he still cannot help but bask in it.

He doesn’t know why you insist on doing this.  Your hands, still warm from the shower you’d shared, smooth along his rippled, scarred skin.  You treat this act as if it were holy, one kept special and secret, reserved only for him.  Like you revere him as a god… as the god he was meant to be.

But godhood was torn from his grasp, leaving him mangled and deformed.  He is but a fraction of the man he once was in nearly every sense.  

Uroboros had saved his life.  It regrew his limbs and sealed his wounds, but it cared not for preserving his image.  For a time, he wondered if that’s why you’d taken up this routine.  Perhaps you’d been so revolted by his marred body that you, full of pity, thought you could fix it.  It seemed a lifetime ago that he’d lashed out over the thought, but it was only a mere two weeks prior that you’d held his cheeks and reassured him of his beauty.

“You’re like sunshine to me.” You’d said.  “I love you."

It had initially been antibiotic creams you rubbed into his skin, each inch of flesh receiving the same reverent, slow circular motions of your fingertips.  After your fretting about infection ceased, you moved on to scar gel– applied diligently from head to toe after every instance in which you’d help him bathe.

He’s resentful that he needs such assistance, even now.  It was unbecoming of the man he was.  Of the man he should’ve been– that he should be…  You always say it’s for the preservation of the compound’s hot water that you join him, but he knows it’s because the weakened muscles of his legs threaten to give out at any moment unless you’re present to provide support. You're simply sparing his pride. 

Back from the dead for three weeks and he could hardly stand on his own.  Confined to a chair just like him, forced to practice that which should come as naturally as breathing.

You’ve got him sat atop the lid of the toilet, standing between his spread legs with his face in your hands.  Your thumbs rub so very sweetly at each ripple, left hand dancing up to work that sticky gel into a section of his scalp that had been singed away in the fires of the Earth.  Your touch is like heaven…

Wesker keeps his eyes shut, telling himself over and over that it’s because he hates the way you look at him while you do this that he does so, not because of the raw tenderness in your gaze. And yet, he cannot help but lean into it when your fingers thread through the surviving thatches of his hair.  The backs of your knuckles meet his temple and he’s unsure of which touch soothes him more.

“Hm, hehe…”

For a moment he thinks you’re laughing at him, but then he remembers…

“It’s happening again!”  You chirp.  Your wide smile and sparkling eyes greet him.  The overhead light above casts a halo around you, painting you as the angel that you are.

He regards you with a disinterested huff, tearing his eyes away from you to look anywhere else– the wall, the shower curtain, the floor.  As if the predicament as a whole wasn’t already humiliating enough, there had been a recent… development.

You should’ve warned him that the damn thing was creeping out of his chest.  Since stepping away from death’s door, Uroboros had gone dormant within a small amber-like formation embedded in his sternum.  Initially it had seemed to be a permanent tumor-like mass left behind, but time had proven it to be where the ‘critter,’ as you’d dubbed it, hides away until called upon.  Except he can’t.  Efforts to summon even one of the tentacles that had so easily encased him were futile and always resulted in the nearest object being thrown across the room in a helpless fury.  Until five days prior, that is.

You giggle as the black mass coils and snakes up your arm, slithering across your back and pulling your bare bodies almost flush to one another.  You embrace Wesker with your free arm, nuzzling into the crook of his neck while the tentacle appendage settles and simply presses you closer.

“If you wanted a hug, you just had to ask,” you coo softly, lips grazing another rough patch of flesh.

Damned thing.

This happened twice before.  Once, having curled around your body, pulling you snug to his side while the both of you slept and leaving you confused and fretful about if you hurt him when you finally woke.  The second was much like now, only it had coiled around your waist while you held him under the stream of the shower.  It took you by surprise, but you never reacted with disgust.  Quite the opposite, really.

“I didn’t.”  Wesker mumbles, but he wraps his arms around you nonetheless.  It feels so very good to hold you…

“Liar,” You accuse happily, pulling back just enough to brush your nose against his.  You look into his eyes as if they weren’t undergoing strange changes with their uneven pupils and fractured blues tainted by hues of scarlet.  “C’mon, we talked about this.  Subconscious desires, remember?”

Of course he remembers; he’s the one who came to the conclusion.  Unconscious even, if the actions during his sleep were anything to go by.  He regards you with a curt hm, which you promptly interrupt with a peck to his lips.  

“Just get my clothes already.”  He tries to muster the energy to deliver it as a command, but he falls short with a sluggish suggestion instead.

“I would," you tease, "but you have to let go first.”  

Easier said than done… after all, he has to want to.

[destinationtrekk]

arcadia

This is only a dream, and you will never hear that laugh again.

1.9k, wesker lives, referenced sex, flashbacks, angst with a happy ending, also kind of ambiguous ending, descriptions of depression

a/n: all my fics are cross posted to my ao3. named after the lana del rey song. also, i have a post-re5 wesker playlist if anyone wants it!!!

-> masterlist

-> arcadia on ao3

This day starts out like every other day since he died. 

You wake up an hour before your alarm, though you think it’s generous to say you woke up if you never really slept. Your bedside clock reads 5:09 am, and you crawl out of bed anyway. You start getting ready for work, carelessly throwing on something vaguely professional looking. You had taken up managing a few of his labs. Not doing any real science of course, you were never as smart as him, but helping with hiring and on-boarding, being the pretty face that introduces young people to the insanity that is - was - his world. 

You think they pity you, his employees and peers, because they ask quietly how you are, what have you been up to, how are you liking the job? You know they just want the gossip on how their dead boss’ widow is surviving without him. You had no clue where his money came from, or his nice house, his expensive cars, your expensive car he bought you. You had just taken everything he gave you with a blush and a smile, with devotion to him that ran deeper than blood. 

You were worried, once you were able to stop crying and pleading for him to come home, how you could possibly manage to handle his assets. You quickly realized he had taken care of it, he had taken care of everything, just like he always had. A lawyer stopped by and handed you a few files, apologized kindly, and left. You only read enough to know that the house was yours, and you had enough money in your bank account to last you the rest of your life, if you were smart with it. 

Now, you look at yourself in the mirror, your eye bags covered perfectly in makeup, and you feel sick. His towel is still hanging behind the door. His cologne is still sitting next to your perfume on the counter. You can’t bear to touch either. 

You drive his black Jaguar to work. You remember when he brought it home, angry after a long day and storming into the house like there wasn’t a sparkling new car in the driveway. You had calmed him down, and kissed him sweetly until he let you drive it to town for dinner. You park the car at the lab and don’t look back. 

Your day drags on but you can’t remember any of it. Everyday feels like this. You smile politely and drink coffee, shake hands and sit in meetings, drink more coffee. After lunch you make two cups of coffee, and you stare at the second cup with too much sugar and no cream until your eyes burn. You give it to an intern and ignore them when they try to thank you. 

Your drive home is stunted by an hour of traffic, so you turn the music up until your head pounds and you aren’t tempted to look in the back seat, where he had fucked you so hard on your anniversary that he scratched lines in the leather with his nails. 

It’s raining when you finally pull into the driveway. You go straight for the shower, scrubbing until your skin is pink and staring at nothing but his half empty shampoo bottle. You go through the motions of cooking dinner, but you feel too sick to eat. It gets portioned away in the fridge, where you know you’ll eventually just give it to someone at work, claiming you’re not hungry. 

You lay on the couch for a few hours, eyes staring unfocused at the TV screen, until you migrate to bed. You do the same under the cold covers, which smell of nothing but laundry detergent now. Your eyes fixed blank on the ceiling. You doze off, just to repeat the day again, and again, and again.

You're splayed across the couch, his broad form crushing you into the cushions. You're both laughing, gasping for air and clutching at each other like teenagers. You don't remember the joke, but you do remember the way his blonde hair glowed like an angel across the table at dinner, lit by candles and the rosy haze of a bottle of wine, domestic in your kitchen. He sits up, straddling your thighs with his own, and looms over you. His eyes glow red in the dim room, and you smile so wide you swear your mouth would be stuck like that. He leans down, whispering sweetly against your neck, hands gliding over your clothes, under them, touching your skin-

This is only a dream, and you will never hear that laugh again.

Before you know it, nearly a year has passed. You had stopped going to the labs a month ago, and soon after the BSAA raided every known location of his research. You don't know who the rat was, but you're happy he's not here to see it. You've done nothing with your time except sit around, cook too much food for one person, and occasionally go running until you make yourself sick.

You're having a... better day than usual. It sets you on edge, thinking that you're on the path to heal and move on. You don't ever want to move on, to forget him, but it's inevitable. You had gone into his closet tonight, taking a sweater much too big for you that had long lost his smell. It was only the second time you had touched his clothes, but you thought you could handle it. Now, laying curled in bed, his sweater nearly swallowing you, you weren't so sure.

He's been gone for a week, and you've taken to sleeping in his shirts. The expensive fabric wraps around you in a poor mimic of his calloused touch, but it smells like him. When he finally comes home, he finds you curled up in bed, face buried in his pillow. Obviously, he has no choice except to drop everything and crawl under the covers, wrapping you tight in his arms. You groan as you come to, immediately smiling as you recognize the vice grip he holds your body in. It makes you laugh, and your joyous sound makes him smile into your neck.

"Nice shirt you have there," he rumbles, breath warm against your cheek. "Where did that come from?"

You giggle and turn in his arms, and you press your lips to his. "Just some guy I met, no one special."

He rolls you onto your back, gaze dark and adoring, and-

You snap awake. The front door alarm was blaring through the speakers downstairs, but it was silent by the time you jumped off the mattress. The alarm could only be turned off with a code, which meant-

You felt panic begin the climb up your throat, and you scrambled for his pistol, still tucked neatly in his bedside table. Your steps were quiet, the gun raised as you searched the house. Nothing was out of the ordinary, until you rounded the corner to the kitchen. You froze immediately, gun falling to your side as your eyes widened in shock.

Albert was hunched over the sink, white-knuckling the counter. His head shot up as the sound of your gasp, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection of the window. The gun clattered to the ground beside you and you nearly fell to your knees. His arms were around you in an instant, holding you up against his chest. A sob escaped you, and you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head and struggling in his grip.

"Quit it, you animal." His voice was the same dark murmur, a deep rumble against your cheek as he held you still. One of his large hands was cupping your head against him, his other arm wrapped around your shoulders. He buried his nose in your hair, breathing deep while you cried and squirmed against him. "Relax, sweetheart, breathe."

A few moments later his grip has loosened enough for you to pull away, and your heart breaks all over again at the sight of him. His hair is longer than you've ever seen it, hanging limp over his forehead and curling slightly behind his ears. His eyes are a familiar red, but his exhaustion is palpable in the air around you. His hands come up to cup your cheeks, and your expression falls at the texture of his skin. Your head rears back, and you take his hands in yours. He's covered in thick scars, pink and white flesh rigid under your fingers. You look up at him, noticing the same scars climbing his neck and crawling over his cheekbone.You reach a hand up to cup his face, and a devastated sound leaves you when he leans into your palm. "Albert..."

He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, turning to press his lips to your wrist. He doesn't need to say a word, not when you can still read each other perfectly even after a year apart. You can see it in the corners of his mouth, the stiff way he moves his shoulder, the rasp of his voice, like it takes too much effort to open his jaw. This isn't the same Wesker you lost. This is someone else entirely.

All at once, the person you used to be comes back, like you never lost them at all. You take his hand in yours and lead him to the guest bathroom downstairs, flicking the light on and pushing him to sit on the toilet lid. He's slouching and avoiding your gaze, an act so unlike him that it makes you pause. You make him undress to his boxers, and he obeys without question. Confusion and grief and relief are clouding your mind. You reach again for his cheeks, and you can tell he wants to resist but you pull him to face you anyway. Under the fluorescent lights his scars look even worse - no, you won't say worse, you love him - you trace the lines gently up to his cheekbone.

"Do they hurt?" You whisper, turning him to take a closer look.

He doesn't answer for a moment, and then barely tilts his head in a nod.

You apologize, and quickly pull your hands away. He grabs your wrists and holds you still, before correcting himself. "Just sensitive."

You can tell now that he isn't injured - he isn't bleeding at least. You spend a long moment just looking at him, taking in the ways his body has changed, and the ways it hasn't. He looks a little thin, his collar bones prominent, new scars riddling his skin that aren't from burns. However, the burns do continue past his neck. One of his shoulders looks, well, frankly it looks like it had been shredded - the thick burn scars the apparent reason for his stiff and pained movements on his right side. The scars continue down to his ribs, all the way to the v of his right hip, where they fade into smooth, unmarred skin.

The shock on your face must be apparent, because he reaches back for his shirt, and you quickly stop him, your voice breaking. "No, don't- I'm sorry, I just... how are you alive?"

He looks uncomfortable, his jaw clenched tight as he still avoids your eyes. "Honestly, I don't know. It's... a very long story." His voice is still hoarse, and you start to think it's not just from exhaustion.

He finally looks up at you, and his red eyes are wet. You decide then and there that, even if this is a dream, he's the most beautiful you've ever seen him.

"Then why don't you start from the beginning?"

[your-goth-sis]

When you kiss them randomly (ft my husbands)

This post was inspired by @l0sercat

Enjoy!

Danny Johnson

Flabbergasted

What did you just do?

His eyes sparkled behind his mask

Honestly gave him an ego boost

He's happy lmao

He lifted his mask and kissed you back

You blushed in response and ran away

Albert Wesker

He's not surprised or taken aback at all

He kissed you back

He smirked into the kiss

His kisses are long and passionate

When he pulls away, you won't escape his teasing

Mukami Yuma

He smirks "What was that for, sow?"

"Nothing? Just a random kiss?" you replied

He grins "Do it again"

"Eh?!"

"This is 'yer punishment for kissing me without permission"

That didn't make sense to you but ok

You hesitantly kissed him again, just a quick peck as this is a little embarrassing for you

Sakamaki Kino

He had the biggest shit eating grin EVER

"If you wanted a kiss, just say so?" he smirked

"But! -"

"No no, come here, you will kiss me again"

You kissed him again

"I love you, princess" he said eventually

"Huh? I mean, I love you too" you smiled

[blueysobssesions]

"Will you marry me?"

Characters ~ : Leon Kennedy, Chris Redfield, Luis Sera, Albert Wesker

“Hey! Hey, Y/n!” Leon came fast towards you; you were clenching your stomach while sitting on the floor. He crouched and asked, “Are you okay?” He asked you in concern, and you nodded your head. “Yeah, I'm fine. The kick hit me on the stomach, but I'm fine,” you heard Leon sigh in relief. “It's finally over.” He leaned in, your forehead touching his. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "Thank you for always being there for me," you whispered. “Where's ashley?” “Don't worry, she's taking a rest.” You smiled at what he said. “Any plans after this?” you asked him while smirking; he chuckled, “Vacation definitely; we can go on a date to that restaurant you always want to?” You hummed in agreement, and then you saw Leon getting something from his pocket, making you curious. “Hm? What's that?” You asked him, but he didn't answer. He finally pulled out a small box, which made you gasp. As he opened the box, you saw a beautiful diamond ring sparkling inside. “Y/n… I love you so much. You are the perfect modern woman, and I was actually waiting for your proposal. But since you still haven’t, I thought I better ask you first before I hold regret. You are the most amazing person I’ve ever known, and no one compares to you. From all we have been through... We're still together, and that will never change. Will you marry me?” You were speechless. Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes, realizing that this was the moment you had been waiting for. You felt a rush of emotions and excitement as you said "yes," with tears of joy streaming down your face. Ashley was in the back, watching in awe with tears in her eyes.

Both of you were watching the sunset from the balcony. Chris leaned against the railing, taking in the peaceful scenery. "It's moments like these that make all the chaos and fighting worth it," he said with a small smile. “You saved the world, do you know that?” You said, while your eyes looked at the sunset, "I couldn't have done it without you," he replied, and you smiled. The sound of waves crashing on the shore filled the silence as you both took in the beauty of the sunset. Chris turned his head to you; his eyes sparkled when he saw your face radiating the sunlight, making Chris think that it was an angel beside him. While you were too focused on admiring the sunset, Chris slowly walked behind you, hugging you from behind. You felt his warm embrace and turned around to face him, smiling at the sight of his happy face. Chris whispered in your ear, "I couldn't resist hugging my beautiful angel." You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. A silence filled the area. Chris slowly pulled away. “Chris?” He only smiled at you. He kneeled on one knee and reached for something in his pocket As he pulled out a small velvet box, your heart skipped a beat with anticipation. You couldn't believe what was happening—he was about to propose! “C-chris…?” “Y/n, I want to make you mine because I love you and I’ll love you until the day we die. And if there is a life after that, I’ll love you then too. Will you marry me?” He looked into your eyes with sincerity. You felt her heart flutter and knew that you wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.  "Yes!"

Luis was fiddling with the small red box in his hands. He was nervous to propose to you, but no one or even himself will stop him. With the help of Ashley, he finally found the perfect ring to give you. He rehearsed his proposal speech countless times, trying to make it perfect. His heart was racing with anticipation and excitement. “Ojalá esto salga bien," he said, sighing. “Luis!” When he heard your voice, he immediately hid the box behind him. “Hey, Lui- Are you okay?” you asked him, and he nodded. “I'm alright, Princessa,” he said, smiling. You walked toward him, your head landing on his chest. “Hmm, I love you,” you mumbled. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly, and whispered, “I love you too, more than anything in this world. Mi amor ” Is this the right time? Should I do it now? - “You're bad at hiding things, Luis.” He then got confused. “Eh?” “Were you going to propose?” you laughed. Luis could feel his face turning red as he nervously laughed along with you. “You ruined it,” he whined, giving up and bringing out the small red box. He opened it to reveal a beautiful ring inside. "I was going to surprise you with this tonight, but I guess the surprise is ruined now," he chuckled, grabbing your hand, taking the ring, and sliding it in your index finger. “Luis… It's… It's so beautiful…” you admired the ring on your finger. "Thank you so much. I love it," you said, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. “I can't believe you picked this out all on your own.” Actually, Ashley helped him.

You and Albert have been together for a year now, and Albert started dreaming about marrying you and having a family so much that he couldn't focus on his work properly. He was sitting on his chair, staring at the ring. Will you accept him? or not? If not, then what will he do? He loves you dearly, and he wants to take your relationship to another level. Standing up from his seat and leaving his office to find you. He has been thinking about proposing to you for a while now and has finally mustered up the courage to do so. He hopes that you will say yes and start planning your future together. “Ah! No Licking! D/N (Dog Name)!” he smiled when he heard your angelic voice from the living room. “Darling?” he called you, making your head turn towards him. You looked at him and saw the love in his eyes. "Yes, my love?" Sitting up, you walked towards him and hugged him. His hand started to stroke your hair gently. “May I talk to you?” You nodded, feeling a bit nervous about what he wanted to say. “We have been together for one year now, and I want it to last.” Your heart skipped a beat as you waited for him to continue, hoping that his words meant what you thought they did. He slowly pulled away, and you softly gasped and couldn't help but smile while tears started to form in your eyes. He got down on one knee and pulled out a small velvet box. “Will you marry me? My love?”

[cho-aaacho]

(HC) A date with Wesker

Archive of Our Own I Masterlist

- If he is busy or tired from work, he will spend his off day relaxing on the balcony, sitting on the couch, and talking about your favorite movies. "Do you know that actors B and C have released a new movie this year? Let's watch it together!"

- He will try a stargazing date. He heard a lot of recommendations from Barry. Gazing at shooting stars with your favorite man isn't a bad idea. "A sparkle from the stars casting a golden glow over your hair, that's so beautiful..."

- Sometimes, he'll invite you to an amusement park or on an aquarium date. He'll take photos of you with the fish. Seeing your face under the aquarium lighting makes him feel so relaxed. "The lighting from the aquarium reflects in your eyes. Let's snap some photos."

- You two don't have any specific or special outfits for a date. However, Albert chose a nice outfit and matched it with the theme, wearing an expensive perfume, of course (he didn't wear his sunglasses this time).

- "I'm so happy to spend my days with you. You are like a ray of sunshine. Thank you for today, and I love you."

[jt-amethyst]

Loss

Carlos pushed his chair away from the desk and stood up, adjusting his tie. He smoothed his short hair back then stretched his back out. It was the last day of work before he could return to America and the love of his life Jill Valentine. When Jill had asked him to oversee the setup of the BSAA South American branch, he had been taken aback. He saw himself as more of a fighter than an administrator but she just smiled and said that she believed in him and he couldn’t say anything to that. Jill believing in him made him feel like he could do anything.

He came in that first day trying to imitate some fancy big wig in an ill fitting suit and tie, bossing people around and feeling like shit about it until he called Jill after work and she laughed at the mental picture he had described and told him to stop trying to be someone else and just be himself. He went back to work the next day in black jeans, dress shirt tucked in and a loose tie feeling much more like himself and the staff visibly relaxed as the day went on. It was easier than he thought it would be, and the team was great, all with the same drive to end bio-terrorism and he even started spending time with the team after work.

As much as he was enjoying work that didn’t involve fighting for his life for once, he missed his Jill. Jill was the best thing that had ever happened to him, she made him want to be a better man and her strength inspired him every day.

As he finished stretching, he felt the shape of the box in his pocket and took it out. An engagement ring sparkled against the black velvet box. He had ordered the ring a few weeks ago and it had finally been ready today but he couldn’t wait until after work to get it so he had gone on his lunch break to pick it up. He was sure Jill would love it and he planned on proposing soon after he returned. He planned a romantic meal, (he would cook of course) and he would take her up onto the roof and pop the question under the moonlight. He was pretty sure she would say yes, he didn’t doubt that she loved him just as much as he loved her.

He put the ring back in his pocket and left his office in search of a coffee. He heard a commotion coming from the operations room and went to investigate.

“...Chris Redfield reports Oswell Spencer and Albert Wesker as dead.” He entered the room with his eyebrows raised in surprise as a cheer went through the room.

He put his hand on the reporting Agent’s shoulder. “Silva, what’s going on?”

Silva smiled up at him. “Good news from the American branch, boss. Spencer and Wesker are both dead.” Silva put his hand up to his ear. “There’s another message coming through...”

Silva’s face immediately fell. “Copy that.”

“Well?”

Silva stood from his chair and turned to face the room. “Jill Valentine reported as dead.”

The world stopped for Carlos. He couldn’t hear, could barely register the shocked reactions from everyone in the room. He staggered to the door and almost fell through it, clutching the door frame so hard his knuckles turned white. He slid to the ground, back against the wall, shock, agony and disbelief ripping through his heart. It couldn’t be, it was impossible. Jill couldn’t be gone. As the tears started to fall, he felt the little velvet box in his pocket and knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

[natsuki-bakery]

Playdate in Raccoon City !

Hello can I request a oneshot with little! Leon Kennedy and little! William Birkin going on a playdate? Claire is Leon's cg and Albert Wesker is William's cg

The sun was shining brightly over Raccoon City as Claire Redfield guided little Leon Kennedy down the bustling streets. Leon's hand was tightly wrapped around Claire's, his small fingers gripping hers with the utmost trust. He was dressed in his favorite RPD-themed hoodie, the blue fabric making his eyes sparkle with excitement. Today was a special day, he was going on a playdate with William Birkin, another little who Claire had heard about through the caregiver network !

"Are we almost there, Mama Claire?" Leon asked, his voice full of anticipation as he tugged on her hand

"Almost, Leon. Just a few more blocks," Claire replied with a warm smile, patting his head gently. She knew how much Leon looked forward to these playdates; they were a chance for him to relax and have fun

Meanwhile, in a spacious penthouse on the other side of the city, Albert Wesker was preparing little William for the day. William, wearing a cute lab coat and glasses that made him look like a tiny scientist, was sitting at the table, swinging his legs back and forth

"Do you think Leon will like my new toys?" William asked, looking up at Wesker with wide, curious eyes

"I'm sure he will, my sweetheart !" Wesker said with an encouraging smile "Now, let's get ready to go. We don't want to keep them waiting"

Soon enough, Claire and Leon arrived at the penthouse. Leon's eyes widened in awe as he took in the luxurious surroundings, but his attention quickly shifted to the door as it opened to reveal Wesker and William

"Leon !!" William greeted, running over to his friend with a big grin on his face "I have so many new toys to show you!"

"Hi William!" Leon replied, his face lighting up "I can't wait to see them all !"

Wesker and Claire exchanged polite nods, acknowledging each other's presence as caregivers before stepping aside to let the boys play. The living room was soon filled with the sounds of laughter and excitement as Leon and William dove into a world of imagination

"Look, Mama ! William has a toy RPD station!" Leon exclaimed, holding up a miniature replica of the police department

"That's amazing, Leon. Why don't you two play a game with it?" Claire suggested, settling down on the couch with a cup of tea that Wesker had graciously offered

The boys quickly set up a scenario where they were police officers on a mission to save the city from an outbreak of plushie zombies. Leon, naturally, took charge as the brave officer, while William used his scientific knowledge to concoct a cure from imaginary ingredients

"Take that, zombie!" Leon shouted, knocking over a stuffed bear that had been designated as the undead threat

"Good job, Officer Leon!" William cheered, handing him a pretend vial of the cure. "Now the city is safe again!"

As the afternoon wore on, the two littles continued to play, their bond growing stronger with each passing minute. Claire and Wesker watched from the sidelines, content in knowing that their charges were happy and safe

"It's good for them to have this time together" Wesker remarked, glancing at Claire. "They both need a break from everything..."

"I agree," Claire replied, her gaze softening as she watched Leon and William laugh together. "It's moments like these that make it all worthwhile"

As the sun began to set, signaling the end of the playdate, Leon and William hugged each other tightly

"Thanks for having me over, Will. I had so much fun with you!" Leon said, his eyes sparkling with joy

"Me too, Leon! Let's do this again soon!" William replied with a big smile

With that, Claire took Leon's hand once more, ready to head home, while Wesker gently guided William back inside. The two caregivers exchanged a final nod of understanding and respect, knowing that they had created a safe and happy space for their littles to enjoy

As they walked away, Leon looked up at Claire, a contented smile on his face : "Today was the best day ever, Mama !"

And so, Leon and William's playdate came to an end, but the memories they made would stay with them, a reminder of the simple joys of friendship and play in a world filled with challenges...

DNI: basic criteria, DSMP, vivziepop/h4zbin h0tel/h3lluva b0ss fans, Owl h0use fans, St4r butterfly fans, Ghibli fans, ddlg/abdl, nsfw/k!nk, anti-agere, anti Christians blogs

[maccaronimassacre]

GIVE US REBECCA CHAMBERS BOTS!1!1! (pretty please)

RE:1R!Rebecca Chambers x Reader

A feeling of relief washes over Rebecca when you reenter the supply room, albeit looking a bit wearier and battered than before. “Are you okay, {{user}}? Do you want me to treat your wounds?” Her voice carries a mix of concern and fatigue as she gently takes hold of your wrist. Tears threaten to spill from her eyes as the crushing weight of recent events start to catch up to her.

Pre RE:0!Rebecca Chambers x STARS!Reader

“{{user}}.” Wesker’s abrupt and icy tone catches you off guard, prompting you to turn away from your desk to meet his gaze. “This here is the newest member of our unit. Be sure to show her around and help her familiarise herself with her tasks.” He gestures towards Rebecca, who stands beside him with a hopeful and eager expression, her hand extended for a handshake. Before you have time to even react, Wesker disappears into his office and leaves you with the bright eyed rookie.

Scientist!Rebecca Chambers x Creation!Reader

Rebecca’s excitement surges when your eyes flicker open, the tubes attached to your humanoid body continuing to pump fluids and chemicals into your bloodstream. She can’t help but marvel at the sight of what she has created. Years of trail and error, hours of testing and experimenting have all led up to this crucial moment. She holds her breath with anticipation when your limbs twitch and you take in your new and alien surroundings with a mixture of intrigue and confusion. “Hey… Can you hear me?” Her voice is soft, laced with uncertainty as she is unsure of how to interact with this new and otherworldly being she has brought into existence.

Rebecca Chambers x Reader

The trees sway gracefully in the gentle breeze, their leaves rustling in harmony with the symphony of quacking ducks and chirping birds. The sunlight filters through the trees making the pond sparkle like aquamarines. Rebecca chuckles softly as she scatters more corn and seeds towards the eagerly awaiting ducks, their tiny feet paddling towards the food. Lost in her own amusement, Rebecca doesn’t even notice you walking towards the agreed meeting point.

Android!Rebecca Chambers x STARS!Reader

You find yourself back in the STARS office after a particularly eventful mission in the Arklay Mountains. You insisted that they were only minor injuries but the RPD figured it would be a wonderful opportunity to introduce your team to the latest advancement in Cyberlife technology. “Would you like me to tend to your injuries {{user}}?” Rebecca's LED flickers from blue to yellow as she evaluates your condition, her blank stare bordering on unsettling as if she is peering into your soul.

[ask-dbd-survivor-wesker]

continued @chrisredfield-re

NSFW under the cut

"So good" Wesker purrs, ejoying to hear the different sounds of the other male. He could see that it's been a long time since Chris receives something, so he had to make sure its perfect.

He could spent hours just worshipping and exploring the other mans body, showing him how much worth he is.

Perhaps it was Weskers more submissive side showing again, but only Chris' simple question made him moan softly.

"I...I can take it." he says with a soft smirk and a sparkle in his eyes.

[selia1ailes]

THE RESIDENT EVIL GAY CLUB GAY CHRIS DRAG WESKER EMO ANGST MASSACRE!!!!!!

The Gay Club:

Chris, dressed in a gray T-shirt and cargo pants flashed his ID to the bouncer at the door. He didn’t know why the man was so insistent on checking it, as his buff shoulders quite literally towered over him. Though he just decided to take it as a compliment, not in the mood to argue. He had bigger things to worry about, like the wondrous levels of intoxication Claire and her friends likely reached. He slipped the card back into his wallet and stuffed it into one of his many pockets, the faint music suddenly blasting as the door was pushed open. Saucy Santana’s ‘Material Girl’ was booming over the speakers.

It took a very long moment to comprehend everything he was looking at, the raving lights not at all helping. The door shut behind him as his eyes traveled the club, the stench of sweat and booze filling the air.

Welcomed with the sight of various flamboyant drag queens and a scandalous crowd, he realized that even though he’d never been here before, he recognized one of them. It was Wesker, glistening in the middle of the dance floor, covered in… body glitter? A tight little skirt hugged his hips, his badonkadonk surprisingly voluptuous beneath the thin fabric. Chris couldn’t help but let his eyes travel his length. The hot pink rhinestone crop top he was wearing was slipping down, now revealing the heart shaped nipple covers stuck onto his chest. His sunglasses were on the ground, crushed. It seemed that they had been stepped on, pierced by a heel. It was the first time Chris had ever seen Wesker without them, the first time he had the pleasure of meeting his sparkling sunset eyes. He now wished that he got to see them more often.

Though that wasn’t all of it. There was also a rainbow wig poorly attached to his head. It matched the magical fairy wings that were sliding off of his back. The man was also dancing, impressively balanced on a pair of red pumps, especially considering the drinks he definitely ingested. Chris was 100% sure that this wasn’t his first rodeo.

As he was admiring the sight to behold, he suddenly felt someone jumping onto his back. Red hair grazed his face, and he recognized her before she spoke. “Claire?!..”

“Heyyy..! Oh my god you’re here! I had nooo idea you swung this way..!” She slurred out, reaching to her head and pulling off a pink bedazzled cowboy hat.

“Hold-.. hold this for me..” She muttered, placing it onto his head. She slipped off of his back with a distracted grin, holding up one finger to her brother as she backed away, symbolizing for him to wait. She was dressed in a blue tube top that he knew all too well. He looked over to the figure she was eyeing, greeted with the immaculate sight of Jill. But what was she doing here? Was she-..?

His questioning thoughts quieted when he realized that she was dressed in a red vest and black crop top. He squinted, double checking to make sure he wasn’t just seeing things. But it only confirmed his fears. That was the crop top and vest that were staples in Claire’s closet.

“I’ll be right back!..” Claire giggled before hurriedly stumbling to Jill and wrapping her arms around her waist, happily burying her lips into the crook of her neck. As the two women drunkenly held each other in lustful awe, the weight of what clearly just happened came crashing down on him. He hated to admit it. It left a sharp agonizing pain in his chest.

Claire took his bitch.

Now buthurt, he began to walk deeper into the club, taking off the hat and holding it in his hand. Despite the upbeat atmosphere, he didn’t feel much other than longing. He originally came here to take his sister, and whoever else was too drunk to drive home. But he had just altered that plan. One drink wouldn’t leave him completely incapacitated, and he suddenly really needed it. He took a seat on a bar stool and slumped over the counter. Moments later he heard someone flop down next to him, sniffling.

He looked over and saw his friend, Rebecca Chambers. Her eyes were filled with tears that she clearly struggled to hold back. Chris took a deep breath, worry grazing his brows.

“What happened to you?” He asked. Rebecca met his gaze. She didn’t understand what he was doing here, but truly didn’t care. She was just glad he was here.

“I should’ve never come to this stupid place..” She whispered, her voice cracking as she fell into her hands, tears beginnings to fall down her cheeks. For a moment he forgot about Jill and Claire. He reached out and placed a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder.

“Becca..” He began gently. “What happened..?

She slowly looked up to him, wiping her face. “It happened again! Again Chris!” She cried. “He said he wouldn’t do it, but he did! He got s-stupid drunk, and he made out with Leon!..” She yelled. “Again!” She emphasized.

Chris’s eyes widened slightly. He could easily remember the first time this happened. It was at Claire's lit house party, when Billy and Leon were dropping it hot simultaneously like there was no tomorrow. Though he genuinely thought that was a one time thing. Then again, it was stupid of him to assume that Billy could resist such a man after getting a taste of paradise.

Did Jill feel that way about Claire? Was she her paradise? Was this more than a repetitive fling between them? He had no idea how deeply they might truly care, or not care for each other. If their relationship was physical, or something more. And if Claire really was Jill’s paradise, then what the hell was he? The hellish reality? His head was spinning as he momentarily disappeared to the scary world of his mind. Though it seemed that by the time he returned down to Earth, it was too late to comfort and sympathize with Rebecca.

A tall woman stood in front of them, her figure hugged by a short red dress. Rebecca's slight confusion with Chris’s zoning out washed away as she stared up at her through teary eyes. The woman seemed oddly relaxed for the environment, a half empty glass of wine in her hand. The rim of the glass was lightly stained with cherry red lipstick.

“Oh darling… Are you alright?” She asked Rebecca gently. They seemed to already know each other. Becca's lips pursed before she simply shook her head no, bursting out into another wave of sobs. The woman replaced Chris’s hand with her own. She wore a soft frown.

“Come on.. Let's get you cleaned up..” She whispered just loud enough to be heard over the blaring music. Becca didn’t make any sort of verbal response this time, just starting to stand. The woman wrapped her arm around her shoulders and led her off. Chris could only watch as they disappeared into the crowd.

He swallowed hard, loneliness burning a hole in his stomach as he slumped back over the bar. “On the house, you need it.” A random bartender chuckled, sliding a Peachy keen over to him. Chris groaned and took a sip.

The Women's Restroom

The music dulled as the door shut behind them. The bathroom was surprisingly empty.

Rebbeca remembered Ada. She was the woman from the house party. She’d been drinking a glass of wine there too. Rebecca sniffled, slightly embarrassed by her tears. She doubted the woman remembered her though. She was assuming she was just helping her out of pity or something, considering that she was sobbing in the middle of a club. Either that or she was just a sweet, …beautiful person. She could never forget the flutters she brought her.

“Ada, right?” She began, watching as the woman placed her wine on the counter and collected a few paper towels, dampening them in tap water. “We met at Claire's party.”

“How could I forget?” She asked, growing a soft smile as she walked back over to her. Her heels clicked against the tile floor. For some reason, Ada’s simple response left a small blush on her cheeks. Luckily, it would be pretty well hidden in the mess that was her face.

They now stood in front of each other, face to face. Only a small gap was between them as Ada gently held her chin, and began to carefully wipe off her face, cleaning it of smeared makeup and tears. The touch was delicate, as though Rebecca's face was an irreplaceable artifact. Her heart fluttered at the closeness.

“I’m sorry that happened.” She began.

“You know what happened?” Rebecca whispered.

“I have to watch, it's a bad idea to leave Leon unsupervised, especially here.”

“You are now.”

“Only to clean up his mess.”

Rebecca's heart sank. Ada wasn’t wrong, she was a mess. An utter trainwreck. But it really hurt to hear that from her. She didn’t even understand why it bothered her so much, though she found her eyes burning with tears again. Stupid. This was so stupid.

“You can go, I’ll be fine.” She managed to get out. Ada frowned, pausing with the paper towels for a second.

“I’m not leaving you here.”

Rebecca simply couldn’t find it in herself to argue. But a question crossed her mind as a loose tear fell from her shimmering eyes.

“Why..?”

No answer.

Ada just started wiping her face again, cleaning the new tear. Though another smile had formed on her red lips. And perhaps Rebecca really was just delusional, but she swore she saw a slight tint in her cheeks.

A long silence passed. Ada finished with the paper towel, leaving Rebecca's face completely bare. She took a deep breath, tossing away the paper. “There you go..” She whispered, though not backing away even a step. She gently cupped her cheek. Rebecca couldn’t help but lean into the comforting hand, the flutters intensifying within her.

“They don't mean it sweetheart.. They’re just messing around.” She assured. This hurt Ada a lot more than she dared to acknowledge. Becca swallowed hard, wrapping her arms around her own waist nervously.

“But he told me it wouldn’t happen again..” She whispered. Ada nodded, but didn’t have a chance to respond further as Rebecca ranted.

“I trusted him. Why would he do this again? He must like it. He must not care about me… He knows how much it hurt me the first time, and he went ahead and did it again..!” She was getting overwhelmed again. “Does he even love me?!..”

Ada sympathetically sighed. “Yes, he does.” She whispered, no hesitation in her voice. Her thumb gently ran over her cheek.

“How do you know?..” Rebecca pleaded.

Ada chuckled softly. She had so many answers to that question. She knew because of Leon. By the way the man always came back to her with more desire than the last. The way he never truly forgot who his real love was. And if Billy truly was hers, he’d do the exact same thing. But maybe her judgment was also clouded by the fact that she liked her. Liked her just a bit.

“Because he’d be stupid not to..” She whispered, slowly guiding Rebecca's hand off her waist and onto her own. She still cupped her cheek, but did nothing more.

Rebecca's eyes widened with a new feeling. One that had nothing to do with Billy. Her heart was jumping out of her chest as gently held Ada’s waist. Slowly, her other hand found it as well, now staring up into her eyes. She didn’t know what was happening, what she was doing. The only thing she did truly know was that she wanted more of whatever this was.

She watched Adas smile warm, felt the careful hand on the back of her neck, the gentle thumb that ran across her lips. It felt like her heart was about to leap out of her chest. She wanted to crumble into a ball and disappear, while also wanting to stay like this forever.

Ada took a small step closer to her, and Rebecca found herself tightening her arms around her waist. She looked down to her lips, and then back to her mysterious eyes. She felt the blush that burned across her cheeks.

They were only breaths away when the door to the swung open. Jill and Claire stumbled into the bathroom in the midst of an intense makeout session. Between kisses they giggled, murmuring inaudible desires. They were too drunk to care for the others in the bathroom, practically falling into a stall together and slamming the door shut.

Rebecca's blush now deepened, but this time with embarrassment. She quickly pulled away from Ada, taking a sharp breath and running a hand through her hair. That must’ve been what Chris was so down about.

“Thanks for the help..” She hurriedly said, nervously fiddling with the dog tags around her neck as she ran out of the bathroom, avoiding Ada’s gaze as she did so.

The bar

After Becca left, Chris was alone for a while. Saldy he sipped his girlie pop drink, propped up against his muscular arm. After a short while, he caught a glimpse of them tumbling into the bathroom together. Caught a glimpse of them in a heated make out.

Seriously?

Again.

At that moment, he gave up on sipping the drink. He chugged it, and ordered two more. He hated to admit how good it was. He wasn’t driving anyone home tonight. They would all be calling taxis tonight. As he slammed the second cup back down to the bar empty, he felt a hot breath against his neck. He froze, feeling hands that slowly trickled over his shoulders. From the corner of his eyes he could see a hot pink manicure on masculine hands. Finally he turned back.

“Wesker?-..” He muttered

The man wore a gentle grin. This close up, Chris could see the carefully done makeup. An array of blues and pinks, complemented with a golden eyeliner that had been painted with a careful hand. Wesker began to softly massage Chris' shoulders.

TO BE CONTINUED??

(PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!!!)

[damadisangue]

There is peace in these moments.  There is peace on her mouth, between her thights.  There is peace around them - a crumpled sheet and Alex's hand in his, soft and warm.  He looks at her and is confused by what he feels - by what coils in his gut, rising up his chest and throat, threatening to take shape in a confession and a promise. He caresses her cheek with his fingertips, touching her pale eyelashes with his thumb - Alex's breathing changing, a fragment of time between sleep and waking that brings her back to him, always. "Al." she whispers.  Al, she had moaned when he had thrusted into her - between her thighs an absolution and a condemnation: a war that saw him defeated every time, a naked king faced with a feeling that he rejected, that he couldn't feel.  Wesker leans over her, brushing her lips with his - something fierce and primal taking over him, showing him how ridiculous he is for denying the truth - the only peace he will ever have. She kisses her, and Alex responds with equal longing; they bite, and she opens up to him - his little sister; his rightful queen.  She takes his face between her hands, studying him - blue eyes, so clear, so sharp. 

So like his before. 

She looks at him and something shifts in her gaze - between them. Perhaps it is the awareness that time is running out: that the virus is a generous god, but equally so is it demanding a pledge. Maybe it's need - that instinct that makes him squeeze a small, pink nipple between his thumb and forefinger, brushing her clit with his other hand and asking permission - asking her to give in once again, just one. 

"Kiss me." she had demanded.  "Touch me." she had whimpered when he had licked her cunt, pale and sharp like the snow that was falling outside the Tower.  "Love me." she had whispered - had prayed. 

And he had done it, Wesker.  He had kissed her like she was everything, touched her until she was soft in his arms, yielding.

"Kill me." she had crying against his chest, the disease consuming her, leaving her that lost and alone little girl looking for her brother all over again. 

"I can't." he murmurs, thrusting into her again - come for me, Alex; live for me. With me.  "I don't want to do it." he shushes her, placing his forehead against her shoulder and breathing their smell - their existence - on her skin. 

"No."  "Why?" "Because you will not die." "Everything dies, Al: it is only a matter of time." "Not you. Not us."

He moves between her hips, in the air argan and maninka - the wet and lewd sound of their bodies together, of her cunt taking him so well, as if she were made for this, as if they were cut from the same cloth. 

"We will live, Alex. And the world will die." 

She comes on his cock, her orgasm leaving her spent, satiated - a sparkle in her eyes, burning and scorching desire in her gestures, on her mouth. 

"Love me, brother."

I do, he whispers in his mind, lifting her by the buttocks and eliciting a scream and a moan from her.  I do, he confesses, coming into her - holding her close and sinking his teeth into the flesh of her breast until it's blood he tastes under his tongue - hers, his: it is the same. 

Silence. 

Alex strokes his hair, removing a lock from his forehead and inviting him to look at her - her lips red, her eyes soft.  Peace is something that belongs to him only with her. 

Stunning art from the amazing @madbedlam