I keep seeing people (i wanna call them normies but also that makes me cringe so I wont), especially on tiktok, going "uhm you love wesker? You do know that he'd probably turn you into an experiment/mutated monster/kill you if he was real, right?" as like this weird gotcha that will make me reevaluate my love for him and it's like. Babes. That's the appeal.
Non wesker fans or casual wesker fans have this odd impression that we dont know exactly how evil this man is and what he is capable of/likely to do. Romanticised version from our heads aside, we KNOW exactly what he's like. I'm sure a lot of us are suicidal or have very low self esteem anyway and we'd gladly risk death if it meant having his attention for 5 minutes, and even without that, risk aware kink is a thing. I'd gladly let him experiment on me if he thinks I'm a worthy test subject, what are you talking about? I'll be such a good subject he'll have no choice but to fall in love with me, tf.
We may be delusional about a lot of things, but we know exactly who we're simping for. The evilness and risk of death are part of the appeal.
Goodbye message below the read more. Only read if you won't be triggered by a suicide note. Don't say I didn't warn you.
I'm not going to go into much detail on this blog about this because I already hate that the last post I'll ever make here is going to forever be this one. I'm writing this on the 25th of June, but this is scheduled to be posted today.
I've been struggling with what being alive means and with finding a purpose and something worth clinging to for easily the better part of the last decade, if not more.
I don't think I found it in the end. Or it feels like I almost did, but then it went away the same way I'm about to/already have if all goes right.
But you guys... You made it better. So much better. The only thing I regret is that I didn't experience this outpouring of love and acceptance earlier. It might have saved me, idk. Maybe not though. I'm sorry I had already made up my mind by the time I started posting here. Every time I promised to never stop writing, never stop posting, that I would write a sequel to this or that, that I would eventually get to all of your requests, I felt a little bit more like a liar.
You don't know me. But you helped a lot. And I'm really grateful. I'm sorry if I let any of you down, and I'm especially sorry if I'm triggering anyone with this. I just... couldn't leave without an explanation. Without saying goodbye. Without thanking each and every one of you for supporting me and being kind. You all deserve the world. Maybe I do too, but I don't think the world deserved me.
I'm sorry I won't be here to keep bringing your dreams, fantasies, and unhinged ideas to life. But thank you for entrusting me with them and I hope I did them justice, each and every one. And if there is one thing you want to do for me (aside from, of course, not following my example, for the love of god, please don't) is this: keep weskin it. For me. And maybe remember me and my stupid writing sometimes. But only occasionally. Okay? Thank you.
Funny idea for post re5 Wesker AU where he survived the volcano but nobody knows bc he decided to just. have a normal life instead of total global saturation. He met a nice person. He fell in love. Who the fuck cares about world domination anyway.
Remember that couple who got caught having an affair at a Coldplay concert? That but with Wesker and reader, since I'm having wesker and concerts on my mind today.
They get captured on camera at a concert of your choice and idk maybe Wesker was big news to the public when he was at large bc he was a wanted, highly dangerous bioterrorist. And someone is like "hey doesn't that dude look oddly familiar?" and then BOOM every headline in every news publication is like "presumed dead bioterrorist Albert Wesker caught with a mysterious person at a (insert here) concert, seemingly sharing romantic moment?" (Don't judge my headline writing ability, I'm not a journalist.)
And that's how Chris finds out his old situationship slash mortal enemy is NOT dead after all. And has apparently moved on? He feels too weird about the whole thing so he resolves to just not think about it actually.
Isekai reader who's so down bad for Wesker they can't help reacting very loudly every time he does anything. And I mean anything.
He scrunches his nose in displeasure while writing something? You're sighing forlornly like your husband has yet to return from the war.
He furrows his brows or arches them when he reads a particularly riveting report about some experiment or other? You're choking and squeaking as you grip the armrests of your chair.
God forbid he does something actually cute like sneeze or chuckle - you're dead on the floor, clutching your chest and cooing over him.
It's never bothered him. He thinks it's way over the top but he can't deny that it amuses him and strokes his ego - the fact that him just existing gives you cuteness aggression and makes you want to nibble on him like a bone is a confidence boost, for sure (not that he needs it).
But then he gets angry once. Like reallllly angry. Snarling, on the verge of murder angry. His nose is scrunched up, his eyebrows severe, his teeth bared, his eyes flashing red, and a single strand of his perfectly styled hair has come loose and is hanging in his face. He's seconds away from murdering the idiot who angered him with his bare hands. And then he stops. Completely frozen, dumbfounded, all the wind taken out of his sails. Why?
Because you see him and gasp, holding your hands to your mouth, and say, "God, you're so beautiful! Look at that nose scrunch, ugh! Just take me already."
Excuse me? Are you honestly out of your damn mind?
He turns towards you, completely lost, and you're giving him the most intense combination of heart eyes and 'take me, I'm yours' eyes he's ever seen on you to date. He huffs, trying to move that stubborn strand away from his eye without touching it, and he can hear your heart speeding up, breathing going shallow.
He dismisses the idiot, wanting the two of you alone, then approaches you slowly, like a predator. You only seem to get more excited the closer he gets.
Wesker stops in front of you, mere inches separating your bodies, and he tilts his head as he observes you. You look so infatuated as you breathe him in and look at him it actually makes Wesker accept that you truly do love him as much as you say you do. Insane person that you are - who loves the wolf that has its jaw wrapped around their throat?
He grasps you by the chin, fingers digging into your throat slightly, and tilts your head back. Your eyes stay glued on him the entire time, as if you physically can't look away.
"Were you dropped on your head as a child?" he drawls, genuinely curious.
You huff out a laugh. "No. Maybe? I don't know. Why?"
"You saw me enraged enough to lose composure and you decided the best course of action was to coo over my appearance?"
"It worked, didn't it?"
"Did you know it would work?"
"...irrelevant."
Wesker sighs and lets your head go. You breathe slowly through your nose, obviously trying to calm your racing everything down while also getting a good lungful of his scent and he decides to indulge you just this once. After all, you've been a great boon to him, with all your knowledge of the future courtesy of your little universe hopping. He can spare this small indulgence.
Your heart just about gives out when he leans forward and presses exactly three kisses to your face: one on your forehead, another on your nose, and the last one on your lips. He uses tongue and draws it out (and finds that he actually enjoys it, so maybe he should experiment some more with you when it comes to this) and when he pulls away, you subconsciously chase his lips before remembering yourself and freezing in place. You stare at him, wide-eyed, while he looks at you contemplatively.
He hums, then smirks. "Not bad. Perhaps this is worth pursuing further."
He walks away from you then, in a much better mood than he was before, and he laughs to himself when he hears you making a sound like a deflating balloon in his wake before you squeal and yell, "oh god, oh god, oh god, he kissed me, I'm never washing my face again, oh god, I'm gonna die."
You're kind of charming in your own way, aren't you? And Wesker has been so terribly lonely the last few years while he focused on Uroboros. Perhaps someone to warm his bed, who so very obviously worships the ground he walks on, is just what he needs.
He'll have to keep a defibrillator in the room when he finally gets you naked, though. Just in case.
I'm waiting for three days grace to come on stage (in about 20 mins or so) and just in case you were wondering about how sane and normal I am, I'm imagining Wesker taking you to a rock concert and pretending he's only there to look out for you and that he's hating every minute until you catch him mouthing along to the lyrics while he's holding you from behind and smiling down at how excited you are 😭🫠 BROTHER
Another post bc I don't wanna write the fic // Feel free to take this and develop it further if you wanna, just tag me if you post sth w it 💕
cw: smut, dubcon, obsessive wesker, age gap relationship
Younger Wesker (about 19-20) who's new to Umbrella. He's smart and a prodigy but he's still young and 'fresh' when it comes to this world: adulthood, being a scientist, evil - take your pick. He knows what he wants, though.
He wants you.
You're in your late twenties, nearly a decade older than him. Senior researcher, his supervisor even, and infinitely more experienced in anything and everything. You barely pay him any attention (why would you? He's an infant as far as you're concerned, no matter how pretty those blonde lashes and blue eyes of his may be) but it only makes Wesker want you more. You're smart and confident and run that lab like the military. He wants to please you and impress you, yes, but not in a 'please pay attention to me, mommy' way but rather in a 'NOTICE me and how great I am, RECOGNISE that I am superior and give me what I deserve' way.
Not healthy at all lmao.
He tries to seduce you the old fashioned way but he's not as suave and experienced as older Wesker yet so he's not very successful at manipulating you so effortlessly. You reject him by citing that it would be unethical of you to do anything with him for more than one reason (age, general life inexperience, power imbalance bc of your position as his superior).
Wesker doesn't give up, though. He wants you and what he wants, he gets. He manufactures situations for the two of you to be alone a lot. Innocent touches and brushes of his body against yours - all innocuous and easily passed off as accidents. And then, one day, when you're working on an experimental aphrodisiac for Umbrella, Wesker does an oopsie and mislabels things. Purely by accident. Anyone could have made the same mistake, scout's honour.
You're sweating and panting within 20 minutes of exposure. The antidote is nowhere to be found no matter how hard you search for it. If you don't do something to lower your temperature soon, your heart will give out from the stress or your brain will start cooking in your skull.
You know what he did immediately, of course. You look at Wesker's carefully innocent, concerned face - a demon with an angel's face, that one - and you know he did this on purpose. But you don't want to die and the truth is... he's been running through your mind ever since you started spending more time with him and actually getting to know him. He is as smart as they say and he's brilliant. He's funny with a good head on his shoulders, more serious and responsible than you'd expect from most 20 year olds. It's still wrong because you're too old for him, you feel like a pervert for it, but he clearly wants this badly enough to engineer this situation so... what's the harm in it? Maybe once he sees what the fuss is all about with you, he'll be satisfied and move on.
You're sat on the lab table with your legs wrapped around his waist while he fucks you raw before you know it. He's good, he clearly knows what he's doing, and he's almost obsessive in the way he catalogues every sound you make, every reaction you have. He wants you to scream his name and won't let you come until you do. And he doesn't give you what the aphrodisiac makes you crave - being filled - until you promise to be his and stop running away from him.
He holds you to that promise, by the way. You're not getting away so easily.
It's time for me to dump some more ideas I don't have the motivation to write any time soon (feel free to adopt them, pls tag me if you do, etcetc).
Another reverse scenario, this time basically sugar mommy/daddy AU for Wesker. Benefactor AU, if he was in charge of naming it, I'm sure 🙄🤭
Imagining you meet him shortly after re1, definitely before re4. He's freshly out from under Umbrella's thumb, he's still figuring himself out and what he wants to do, how to go about it, how to get the funding he needs without ending up tied down to another Umbrella wannabe. He wants to be his own man and answer to no one, but sadly, superpowers and smarts aren't enough to accomplish his goals.
Enter you: heir/heiress to some company or other (age is irrelevant, you're loaded regardless), lonely despite your life of luxury and privilege, with entirely too much money. More than you know what to do with.
You're sitting in a restaurant, looking beautiful and obviously rich, waiting for your date to show up. You went for something not as high end as you usually frequent because you're desperate to find your soulmate - you're tired of the soulless people around you with zero personality and intelligence, who are only where they are because of their generational wealth. So you started dating out of your tax bracket, basically, trying to find someone worth your time there.
Only... You just got stood up. The guy texted, saying something came up and he can't make it. When you tried to get an explanation, he blocked you.
Unbelievable.
You're determined to still have a good time despite it, and that's when Wesker catches your eye. Pretty boy like that wearing glasses indoors and gloves when it's 100 degrees outside? Yeah, he's going to catch your eye, alright. You motion the waiter and ask if he can give the mysterious blonde at that table over there a message from you. You write it down on a napkin with your lipstick (if you wear it) or a pen (if you don't), just to be cheeky, and hand it over to the waiter with a crisp 100 dollar bill tucked in his apron for his effort.
Wesker joins you at your table. He's standoffish and on his guard for the first hour, but when he realises that you really only want some company because you got stood up, he relaxes. He hasn't had time for dating since July of '98 and you're not half bad to talk to, certainly not half bad to look at either.
He's refreshingly good company. He's not afraid to speak his mind and often does so, quite bluntly, making you snort into your drink or full-on laugh so hard your stomach hurts. He calls you out on your rich people behaviours or biases, pointing them out, and you're honestly grateful - and charmed. You like how smart he is and that he knows it and won't let you forget it. He tells you a little bit of what he wants to do, that he was here to meet with a potential sponsor but they didn't see eye to eye so the meeting ended earlier than planned. You hum as you listen to him, not truly understanding the science of it all but loving his passion and the way he grips his whiskey tumbler as if unable to contain himself. It's nice to see someone so genuine, unafraid to make his opinions known even when they might insult you.
You invite him over to your penthouse in the city. He says yes. You spend a wonderful night together - you've never felt so free when engaging with another person, even for something as simple as sex. With others from your world, it's always a performance and the fear of potential blackmail or scandals in the future always looms over your head. With strangers it's just... lackluster. But with Wesker? A connection has sparked and it translates to the bedroom, leaving you free to be yourself and forget about holding yourself back - it's hard to keep hold of that thread anyway when he's so good at redirecting you, forcing you to stay focused solely on him and what he's doing to you, what he's commanding you to do, or forbidding you to do until he says so.
Out there, you are on top socially and financially. You are above everyone and everything because of your wealth and family name. But in here? You sit on your knees and look up at Wesker, waiting for your next command, for permission to touch him or to come, permission to move, permission to look. It's exhilarating.
The next morning, you wake up first and only because you have a plane to catch for a business meeting in Barcelona. You have approximately half a minute to admire him - how his disheveled blonde hair hangs in his face, how his eye bags aren't as pronounced in sleep, how soft and young his face looks when completely relaxed and unguarded for once.
He starts to wake up and all the safeguards and barriers are put back in place.
You exchange numbers and you say, "I'd love to do this again. On a regular basis. I know you'll be busy with your project soon and I'm always busy with my work, but whenever there's a window... I would gladly fly you over or come to you for this," you gesture around the room and to the two of you, "to happen again. If you want."
You're out the door before he can answer, but he calls you that night and says only, "Yes," before he hangs up.
A few months pass during which you see him twice more - he's traveling all over the planet looking for greatness, whereas you're constantly busy, readying yourself to take over from your parents for good. Eventually, you just meet up with him for the third time and slap a contract in front of him.
"What is this?"
"A contract. Read it. Tell me if you have objections. If not, sign it," you say as you hand over a pen that's entirely much too expensive. He takes it but he gives you a look and you roll your eyes at the unspoken chastisement.
The contract is simple but important: for an indefinite time, until both parties agree to part ways amicably, you will fund all of his projects with no limit to how much money you provide, promising to keep your nose out of it and only give him the resources he needs, no questions asked. In exchange he agrees to be your partner. Exclusively. Whenever you want - within reason and with his consent at all times, of course.
"You want to pay me untold amounts of money so you can fuck me, darling?"
You shrug. "I have more money than I know what to do with, Albert. And I like you. I trust you, at least as far as the bedroom is concerned. You're wasting time running around when you should be working on your things, so I'm providing you with what you need."
"Hmm."
He signs.
And that's how you become the subby Christian Grey to Wesker's dommy Anastasia Steele basically lmfao 🫶 obviously, in this AU I imagine that what starts off as a mutually beneficial relationship slowly morphs into real love and attachment over time.
Something came up so I'll be gone from social media for a while, I think. I'll close my inbox in a few hours so that asks don't pile up, sorry for the indefinite absence 🫶 love you all tho <3
