seen from Bangladesh
seen from Kazakhstan
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from China
seen from South Korea
seen from United States
seen from El Salvador
seen from Guatemala
seen from Canada
seen from Pakistan
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Oman
seen from Türkiye
seen from Morocco
seen from Brazil
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
"Gross, my sperm donor has a crush on my father figure." Jake fake gagged. Grooooooooss.
"If by crush," Wesker rumbles, "you mean I would very much like to land an aircraft on Chris Redfield, then I suppose that would be accurate, Jacob."
Strange, red-orange eyes flash behind dark shades and he dares his... "son" ... to say another word. There will be hell to pay, touching that particular nerve.
So why do you really hate Chris so much, Shades? Is it really because he keeps getting in the way of your hilariously evil (I mean props to you for just dialing that shit to 11) plans? Is it because he had a normal upbringing; he is the master of his own fate and was never set on a predetermined path — is he something you wish you were? Or is it even more personal than that? Did he make you feel something, once, to which you thought you were immune? Did you maybe learn something about yourself accidentally when all you were trying to do was manipulate your way closer to your objective?
These questions are pointed. In any other situation, he would simply move quickly forward and snap a few bones, offering the answers with their death rattle as he plunges a hand through their chest. But these circumstances are not normal. He is restrained, a physical representation of the lack of mastery he now has over his “destiny”, whatever that might end up being. Death would be preferable, perhaps, but that, too seems to have eluded the tyrant. Madness, ah, now that has become a constant companion and it is to that he now turns, assuming this individual must be a conjuration of a rampant mind. Only his own psyche could possibly dig so deep.
“Surely you jest,” comes the sardonic response, the composure in his voice belying the tumult within, the absolute maelstrom of howling madness crashing like waves against the inside of the megalomaniac’s skull. If one were to look closely into his eyes, one might glimpse the very fires of Hades ablaze within, but that sort of thing isn’t recommended.
Feel something? Has he ever once felt anything other than contempt? William Birkin was a useful asset and what Wesker might have considered a friend, or as close to one as a man-shaped thing like him might get. But Chris Redfield? The man was a nuisance—he was a powerful, determined one, of course, but a nuisance nevertheless—and an obstacle to be flattened and discarded. The manipulation had been part of the experiment, nothing more. To have enjoyed any bit of it was simply the vestiges of humanity and Wesker has long since left that behind.
Management™ [Wesker]
NSFW PREFERENCES : please repost , don’t reblog!
bold : always applies • italics : sometimes applies or partner specific • bold + italics : favorite • strike : never applies • no emphasis : neutral .
tagged by: @noonegetsleftbehind
tagging: @vehxmence (Sixteen), @fxckingjoke, @the-true-blue-kano, @quiscustodietipsos (Mothman or Rorschach, your call <3)
𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 / 𝙷𝙰𝙱𝙸𝚃𝚂 • submissive • dominant • prefers to top • prefers to bottom • likes to switch • heterosexual • gay • lesbian • bisexual • asexual • pansexual • demisexual • enjoys sex with men • enjoys sex with women • enjoys sex with genderfluid , agender , demigender , or nonbinary individuals • enjoys sex with all genders regardless of identity • enjoys sex with multiple people at a time • initiates • waits for partner to initiate • spits • swallows • morning sex • night sex • sex any time • no sex drive • low sex drive • average sex drive • high sex drive • fluctuating sex drive •
𝙱𝙾𝙳𝚈 && 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 • slender build • medium build • athletic build • muscular build • curvy build • voluptuous • chubby build • wears boxers • wears boxer briefs • wears lingerie • goes commando • shaves • trims • waxes • does not shave • cup size a - c • cup size d - f • 1 - 5 ” in length • between 5 - 6 " in length • 6 - 9 ” in length • 10 ” or over in length • (other)
𝚂𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳𝚂 • silent • quiet • loud • grows in volume over time • bites hand • bites partner • bites pillow to muffle self • calls out partners name • curses • fakes • exaggerates • prefers a quiet partner • prefers a loud partner • prefers a partner who grows in volume over time • no volume preference • turned on by dirty talk • turned off by dirty talk •
𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽 - 𝙾𝙽𝚂 / 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙺𝚂 • having their hands pinned • pinning partner’s hands • having own hair pulled • pulling partner’s hair • being watched ( by their partner ) • being watched ( by a third party ) • watching their partner • receiving oral • giving oral • giving praise • receiving praise • calling their partner ‘daddy’ • being called ‘daddy’ • calling their partner ‘mommy’ • being called ‘mommy’ • calling their partner ‘ master ‘ • being called ‘ master ‘ • calling their partner ‘ mistress ‘ • being called ‘ mistress ‘ • calling their partner ‘ sir ’ • being called ‘ sir ’ • biting or marking • being bitten or marked • spanking • being spanked • teasing • being teased • having toys used on them • using toys on their partner • giving anal • receiving anal • choking • being choked • dirty talk • being tied up • tying partner up • being worshipped • worshipping partner • humiliating • being humiliated • degrading • being degraded • knife play • blood play • gun play • being pegged • pegging partner • partner wearing lingerie • wearing lingerie • whipping • being whipped • being edged • edging • overstimulation • anonymous sex • breeding • chastity devices clothed / partially clothed • deep - throating • nipple play • public sex • rimming • sadism / masochism • size difference • pregnancy • roleplay • squirting
𝙿𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙴𝚂 • bedroom • shower • bath • pool • ocean • kitchen • home bathroom • public restroom • car • tent • alleyway • field • forest • empty or abandoned building • library • rooftop • terrace • dressing room • elevator • parking lot • museum • cemetery • beach • closet • hospital •
tl:dr, Wesker is a chameleon. If it benefits him, he will vaguely display what you might call “preference”, but that preference is based solely on his target’s desires.
//Albert Wesker is the human(?) equivalent of the feeling you get when you go to smash a spider and it squares tf up
@apexhearted feels me deeply
TRUTH BOMB Wesker do you really hate Chris or are you just jealous of his glorious gains?
“I am intrigued, Twenty-one, by how immensely ‘swole’ he became between our encounters. I desire his vivisected body, to find out what... makes him tick.” Is there madness in those eyes, or is he fucking with her? One could not say for certain, though there is, as the rules dictate, a thread of truth.
My muse must speak truth for ten asks--there are nine left.
(too bad there weren’t seven)
calling OSHA on management for letting a random BOW walk around the facility uncontained
The creature seems to absorb light into itself, becoming deeper shadows as it approaches. That it is solid is not in doubt, as many eyes blink balefully from where a head hopefully is. Its mouth begins to open--surely that is a mouth; it must be--and furnace heat exudes from it, accompanied by a feverish, red-orange glow and rows upon rows of teeth.
"H u n g e r."
A voice rumbles from all around, as if the tectonic plates beneath the facility are shifting in some ghastly rhythm imitating humanoid speech.
let management say fuck
//bro you ain't wanna reach the fuck threshold. It's bad news bears.
It has been some time since the thing that calls itself Azriel appeared to him. Well, perhaps it has been some time to Wesker, but it has been only moments for the thing that is leaning against the corner of his desk when he enters his office. To that end, he picks up as if they’d been speaking mere minutes ago.
“Question,” Azriel begins nonchalantly, examining a cut stone that had until now been undisturbed in its display in the corner — treasure from the Kijuju mines, no doubt. “This…great remaking. What kind of god will you be, hm? The…oh, what is the — laissez-faire deity, leaving his creation to whatever eventuality its natural laws would determine? Or maybe you’ll lead it along. Little bread crumbs here and there. Signs, prophets, manifestations. Oh, to let the new world fend for itself, or to forge in your image?”
His blue eyes flick up from the diamond momentarily, and for an instant they are not irises and slit pupils at all but tiny windows of vast, endless, star-peppered sky. The depth is palpable and maddening. Even more mind-bending is the way his face becomes simultaneously man and grinning beast, at once handsome and well-formed and the sharp, lightning-crowned skull-contours of a wolfish thing with too many eyes. It defies perception, yet Wesker can perceive it anyway — is this the beginnings of great power, hallucination, or a vision of which the Thousand Storms has decided he has become worthy?
“You see, humans, even of the current world, explain their existence in all these ways. They both have no grasp of the powers which govern them, and yet know they exist. How would you play that, I wonder? Will you put this world on its knees and turn away, or will you offer your hand, your voice, through its despair?” He sets the gem down on the desk.
“What would the Tyrant-God have them believe?”
Wesker feels strangely compelled to respond to this being. It is no hallucination—not in the traditional sense. He knows himself better than that. He has fine control over every bit of his physicality, and why not? Had be not been designed for this? So what if Spencer’s initial plans for the Wesker children were sidelined by other projects, or by his own failure and lack of foresight. There had been survivors, but all of these were mad, dead, or…
Him
Just him. He is the remainder, the last man standing, the lone survivor. Why shouldn’t he be deemed worthy of the godhood Ozwell Spencer and his arrogant cohort had so desired. They had squandered their chance, placed their faith in themselves—and they had fallen short. In a way, Wesker is grateful to them. Their efforts did create something, but it is not up to them whether or not he reaches apotheosis. That is for him to decide.
What kind of world, indeed?
He sets aside his work and stands, adjusting his gloves and moving around the desk to stand face-to-face (to-face-to-face-to face—there are too many to count) with the being who has introduced itself as Azriel. He stares into that infinity and for a moment, Wesker can almost feel tears forming at the corners of his eyes. These depart as quickly as they had been conjured as the visions of that which no mortal should ever see dissipate as if they’d never been. Or maybe they have always been and he is only just now noticing them. Is this Apotheosis?
“What I will do,” he begins, “has nothing to do with belief.
“Humanity, in its arrogance—no, hubris—sought godhood… Tiny, small-minded, selfish, ignorant mortals. They sought it for fear of death, rather than to achieve any form of real supremacy. I am the culmination of those efforts,
or the leftovers
yet I am still not a god. Not yet.
“To become a god, therefore, one must either ascend to the heavens with the blessing of an unseen force.” This, said with contempt, his lip curling, an uncannily sharp canine making itself known for a fraction of a second.
“Or one must redefine godhood.”
Without saying one way or the other, it is very clear what the tyrant intends to do.
