#boulderpuncher

[noobiestnoober]

Heya, it's me again! The anon who requested Reader interviewing B.O.W.s with a tiny mic and I'm back at it again with more crackfic chaos!

This time, it isn't in the Assistantverse, instead, this is an RE5 AU where Chris and Sheva face a horde of Wesker clones meant to confuse them only to realize they're not as intelligent as the real deal, in fact, far from it. Their true feelings are unfiltered. Basically, they're all just a bunch of himbos that have a huge crush on Chris and they're quite chatty. They all act like like a bunch of fangirls. They swoon over everything that Chris does. For example, they all cheer when Chris punches a boulder lol

Meanwhile, the actual Wesker is hiding away elsewhere out of embarrassment lol

(Btw this is based on an actual RE5 mod where there are multiple Weskers)

https://youtu.be/VL1-OwqChdY?feature=shared

(Sorry if this is too long lol)

(Feel free to delete this ask if you want)

🦠 Chris Redfield and the Boulderpuncher Fangirl Army 🦠

(Resident Evil 5 Crackfic One-Shot | Wesker Clone Chaos)

“I FOUND A ROCK!” “I CAN BE A ROCK!” “Chris, use me for strength training!” “It’s like he’s singing to us. Chris, say ‘boulder’ again.”

Summary:

Chris and Sheva face the ultimate bioweapon: an army of Wesker clones who are... not exactly the intellectual elite. Swooning, chaotic, and utterly obsessed with Chris, these clones make boulder-punching the hottest event in Africa. Meanwhile, the real Wesker is hiding in the vents out of secondhand embarrassment, silently plotting his own dramatic resignation from villainy.

A/N: Huge thank you to the brilliant anonymous requester for this absolute goldmine of a prompt! You inspired one of the most chaotic and joyful crackfics I’ve written in ages—hope you enjoy every ridiculous Wesker-clone, boulder-punching, therapy-bound second of it. Your ideas are always welcome in my inbox! 💖

"Ready, partner?" Chris asks, voice all steely confidence as he reloads his gun, dust caked on his arms, biceps flexing like he’s starring in a protein shake commercial. The sun glints off his forehead in the kind of way that makes Sheva reconsider every life choice that got her here.

Sheva barely gets a chance to respond before the air is suddenly filled with identical, echoing voices: “CHRIS!! OMG, IT’S REALLY HIM!!”

From every corner of the crumbling ruins, a swarm of men in black—sunglasses gleaming, trench coats billowing in the equatorial heat (somehow)—burst out, each one jostling for space and attention. It’s a Wesker-palooza. Something’s… deeply, deeply off. They tumble into the open, like runway models who took a wrong turn at a villain convention.

The clones descend in a wave of excitement, all talking at once—

One twirls his sunglasses and swoons, "Chris Redfield, you’re even buffer in person! Can I touch your biceps? For science?" Another clutches his chest, declaring, "The way you reload… so efficient! So manly! Does your arm ever get tired?" A third, barely able to contain himself, points at Chris’s biceps and exclaims, “Is it true you bench press B.O.W.s for breakfast? Wait—do you need a workout partner? I volunteer!”

Chris blinks. Sheva stares. A clone sighs dreamily and scribbles in a diary labeled “Chris’ Boulderpuncher Era.”

Sheva leans in and lowers her voice. "Is it too late to switch partners?"

Clone #4 perks up instantly. "I’ll be your partner, Sheva! Unless Chris wants me as his spotter—then sorry, girl, priorities!"

Meanwhile, Real Wesker is hidden in the shadows, silently reciting self-affirmations and regretting every choice that led him here. "They’re a disgrace to my genetic superiority," he hisses, trying to squeeze himself further into the air duct. A single, silent tear rolls behind his sunglasses. The duct, by the way, is now full of empty Monster cans and a crumpled villain handbook.

Chris, ever the professional, tries to push forward. But with every step, the Wesker clones trail after him like overeager fans at a world’s strongest man competition. Every flick of his wrist, every tactical roll, every faint grunt—met with wild applause and at least three fainting spells.

It’s then that Chris finds their path blocked by a massive boulder—impossibly wedged in the way, as if mocking him. The clones gasp in suspense, clutching each other. Chris sighs, rolling up his sleeves with the practiced resignation of a man who’s done this before.

He squares up to the boulder. The clones hold their collective breath, a reverent hush falling. He punches—no, obliterates—the boulder. Debris flies. Sweat glistens. There is a beat of stunned silence before the entire clone squad erupts: hats thrown, sunglasses flying, some literally drop to their knees, others begin openly weeping with joy. It’s pandemonium, like someone just announced free protein bars for life.

The clones absolutely LOSE IT.

Clone #5 (screaming): “DID YOU SEE THAT? HE PUNCHED IT! HE REALLY DID! HE’S SO STRONG!!”

Clone #6 (crying actual tears, clutching a notebook): “He’s even more beautiful when he’s exerting brute force! I’m writing this down for my fanfic.”

Clone #7 (clapping): “Can I get your autograph on my Uroboros sample? Please!? Also, do you want to collab on an anti-Wesker workout DVD?”

One clone faints. Another tries to take a selfie with Chris in the background but only manages to capture Sheva’s look of pure existential dread. A third clone starts live-streaming to his 3 followers on CloneTok, hashtagging #BoulderDaddy #ChrisCrush #WeskerIsShook.

Sheva, using the opportunity, starts sneakily herding the lovesick clones into a corner. “Look, if you want Chris to notice you, maybe form a line. Or, uh, bring him more boulders. He likes boulders. Or protein shakes. Or both.”

Instant chaos: “I FOUND A ROCK!” “I CAN BE A ROCK!” “Chris, use me for strength training!” “I brought a boulder. It’s shaped like a heart!” “I made a protein smoothie for you, senpai!”

Chris, whose patience is now breaking down at the molecular level, looks at Sheva with wide, desperate eyes.

"Sheva. Help. Please."

One clone tries to initiate a Chris Redfield Cosplay Contest among the others, resulting in seven clones flexing and tearing their own sleeves. Two more are constructing a shrine out of discarded sunglasses and Uroboros syringes, chanting, “Praise be to the Boulder King.”

Real Wesker—deprived of dignity, pride, and a decent evil monologue—decides to just set off the self-destruct. He flips the switch, but instead of explosions, the speakers across the facility blast a remixed "Eye of the Tiger" with Chris’s grunts autotuned over the beat. The lights start flashing. Clones begin breakdancing, one of them attempts the worm, another tries to crowd-surf but only lands in Sheva’s arms.

Clone #8 is sobbing with joy, mascara running down his cheeks.

"It’s like he’s singing to us. Chris, say ‘boulder’ again."

Chris drags a hand down his face.

"I’m retiring after this."

Sheva lets out a low laugh as she shakes her head.

"Agreed. I’m updating my CV."

One clone tries to start a group hug. Another pitches a reality show: “Keeping Up With the Redfields—Chris, you in?”

As the clones dissolve into a mass of adoration and selfie requests, Sheva grabs Chris’s arm, whispering, “Now, while they’re distracted!” They sneak past Real Wesker, who’s now curled up in the vent, muttering, “None of this was in the plan. None of it.”

Outside, Chris leans against a jeep, dragging a hand down his face. “If I ever see another clone again, I’m leaving the planet.”

Sheva grins, tossing him a protein bar. “At least you have fans, superstar.”

Somewhere in the distance, real Wesker sits stiffly in the waiting room of a clinical, white-walled office. He's surrounded by other washed-up villains clutching self-help pamphlets—one is muttering about capes, another about henchmen unionizing. When his name is called, Wesker steps into the therapist’s office and lowers his sunglasses just enough to make eye contact.

The therapist gives a gentle, practiced smile. “So, tell me about your clones.”

Wesker stares at the floor for a long moment. “They cheered when Redfield punched a rock. I—”

He falters, unable to articulate the trauma. Somewhere deep inside, a single dramatic violin sting echoes. The therapist simply nods, as if she’s heard it all before.

THE END.

✨ Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, reblog, like, or leave a comment—your support means everything!

— Do not repost. Reblogs appreciated! Requests & feedback welcome!

“For all fandoms, check my [Masterlists Here]!” and “More Resident Evil fics? [Resident Evil Masterlist]”

[hexsreality]

'Date or Pass'

Send 'Date or Pass' and the receiving muse will answer truthfully if they'd date the sending muse or not. ⤷ Accepting!

"Date or pass on one named Chris Redfield? Hmm." Wanda hummed to herself as though she were contemplating the matter very seriously. Though the smirk would indicate otherwise, it was just her playing coy with the man. "It would be foolish to pass up an opportunity to date you." 

[wxrwounds]

when was the last time someone touched you like this?

“Mmmm when were you here last?” Jenna asked in response, the feeling of his lips on her skin enough to make her start undressing immediately. “Chris please, I don’t want to wait any longer.” She hummed, having missed the man more than enough during his absence.

@boulderpunched

[w1dowed]

@boulderpunched / CONT.

     𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗲  𝘄𝗮𝘀  𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀  𝘄𝗮𝗿𝘆  𝗼𝗳  𝗻𝗲𝘄  𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲,     trust  had  to  be  earned  and  was  not  freely  given.     years  of  experience  had  taught  her  that  a  lot  of  people  had  their  own  intentions  and  would  do  anything  for  their  own  survival.     but  she  wasn't  completely  heartless,  she  would  help  someone  in  need,  help  them  get  back  on  their  feet  and  offer  them  a  place  amongst  her  community,  if  that  was  what  they  wanted  and  were  willing  to  prove  they  could  be  trusted.     which  was  why  she  had  helped  chris  in  the  first  place  and  giving  him  a  chance  to  prove  himself.     if  she  completely  closed  herself  off  to  newcomers,  then  their  way  of  life  would  never  go  anywhere,  she  would  always  give  someone  a  chance     -     till  they     𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱     themselves  to  not  be  trusted.

     𝗮  𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗹  𝘀𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗲  𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱  𝗮𝘁  𝗵𝗲𝗿  𝗹𝗶𝗽𝘀  𝗮𝘀  𝘀𝗵𝗲  𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝘀  𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿  𝗮𝘁  𝗵𝗶𝗺,     glad  that  he  wasn't  injured  and  he  could  keep  going.     her  smile  widens  slightly  as  she  looks  at  the  can  of  food  and  then  back  at  chris,     "     i  know  some  people  who  would  be  extremely  grateful  for  that,  so  consider  it  a  lucky  find,     "     maggie  admits,  taking  the  can  from  him  and  putting  it  in  her  backpack  before  looking  back  at  him.     her  smile  drops  as  she  looks  at  him,  nodding  her  head  because  trust  had  to  be  earned  both  ways  and  she  had  definitely  tried  to  show  that  she  could  be  someone  that  could  be  trusted,     "     i  wasn't  gonna  just  leave  you  that  day.     you  don't  have  to  repay  me,  chris,  you  just  gotta  prove  that  you  can  be  a  part  of  the  community.     that's  all  i  ask,     "

[lostgrimesgirl]

that's where i was when i lost it all.

Lena looked at Chris, listening to his story about where he was when the outbreak happened. She always found people's stories so interesting, wanting to know who they had been before all this.

" I was in college in Atlanta," Lena said, " I was finishing my first semester then suddenly the world was falling apart. It's funny, you expect to be with your family when that kind of thing happens. But I've never been one to excel at meeting expectations."

Lena still felt a stir of resentment at Shane and her mom for making her go back to college after her dad had been shot. It had led her down this path and changed her in so many ways. Lena wasn't entirely sure if she could ever be the girl she used to be even if she tried.

"If you could go back and change it, would you?"

@boulderpunched

[mystalwartheart]

“ of course i remembered. ”

Jill had planned to spend the afternoon alone in her house. Her recent cases had really taken a lot out of her, leaving her feeling drained, lonely and sad.

Then Chris had showed up out of the blue at her doorstep, with all his familiar comforting ruggedness and warmth, holding out a bouquet of flowers for her. Each was a personal favorite of hers, and each had been carefully chosen to convey a message meant just for them.

Jill cradles the bouquet in her arms, admiring it through damp eyes before fetching a vase and displaying them prominently on her living room coffee table. She turns back to face Chris, her voice heavy with emotion. "Chris, they're beautiful. Thank you."

Jill walks up to Chris and throws her arms around him. She gives him a feather-soft kiss on the cheek before nestling into his shoulder.

"Thank you for coming to visit me," she confesses quietly. "I needed this. And I really missed you."

[seekslight]

✧.*      𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩  𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

name  :  luxanna  crownguard.

nickname  :  lux  ;  little  light  (  by  @apostisms  )  ;  princess  (  by  @steel-and-fire  )  ;  flashlight,  blonde,  blondie,  starlight,  nightlight,  baby  girl,  glow - stick  (  by  @shimmershots  and  yes,  i  went  through  all  of  cudi's  posts  to  find  every  single  one  ).

gender  :  female  with  she / her  pronouns.

romantic  orientation  :  biromantic,  bisexual.

preferred  pet  names  :  i  don't  think  lux  is  called  pet  names  often  (  if  ever  ),  although  all  her  nicknames  are  technically  pet  names  too  &&.  she  adores  them  all.

relationship  status  :  plot  dependent,  by  default  taken  &&.  in  a  relationship  with  @apostisms.

opinion  on  true  love  :  every  love  is  true  if  the  feelings  are  genuine,  even  the  past  ones  that  faded  or  ended  suddenly.  if  what  lux  felt  was  love,  it  was  true.

opinion  on  love  at  first  sight  :  no,  just  no.  lux  firmly  believes  one  has  to  get  to  know  the  other  person  to  actually  consider  calling  the  feeling  love.  she's  usually  giving  herself  a  lot  of  time  to  let  her  feelings  develop,  although  there  are  instances  in  which  she  finds  herself  fascinated  by  someone  ���  but  even  if  they  end  up  as  couple,  she  wouldn't  call  it  love  at  first  sight.

how  ‘romantic’  are  they?  :  very!  from  writing  letters  to  giving  flowers,  cooking  and  coffee  dates,  everything's  on  the  table.  really.  being  on  the  receiving  end  though?  the  easiest  way  to  make  her  feel  special.

ideal  physical  traits  :  none.  if  the  feelings  happen,  it's  regardless  of  one's  appearance  —  let's  take  sylas  as  the  perfect  example  :  a  smelly  stinky  rat  man  in  dirty  clothes  who  still  made  her  heart  beat  faster.

ideal  personality  traits  :  selflessness,  being  down  to  earth,  truthfulness,  loyalness,  trustworthiness,  being  kind.

unattractive  physical  traits  :  lack  of  hygiene.

unattractive  personality  traits  :  selfishness,  untruthfulness,  lying.

ideal  date  :  book  date  over  tea  or  coffee,  picnic  in  a  pretty  garden  full  of  flowers,  baking  together,  evening  walk  by  the  lake.  in  general,  little  things  one  can  organize  without  spending  money.

do  they  have  a  type?  :  stinky  rat  men.  twinks.  crazy  geniuses.  knights,  soldiers,  warriors,  heroes.

average  relationship  length  :  long.  if  she's  into  someone  and  decides  to  pursue  the  relationship,  she  usually  works  really  hard  for  the  spark  to  never  fade.

preferred  non - sexual  intimacy  :  forehead  kisses  (  receiving  ),  hugs  from  behind  (  receiving  ),  holding  hands,  deep  conversations  &&.  trauma  sharing.

opinion  of  public  affection  :  lux  is  pretty  okay  with  it!  she  enjoys  holding  hands  or  sharing  a  kiss  or  two  (  though  would  opt  for  cheeks  or  quick  pecks  ),  likes  hugs  and  doesn't  mind  being  held  by  the  waist.

past  relationships?  :  verse  dependent,  but  the  most  notable  ones  are  :  a  crush  on  jarro  lightfeather  that  wasn't  pursued  (  and  built  upon  a  lie,  written  with  @compasswithin  )  &&.  then  the  disaster  with  sylas  —  unlabeled  long  time  connection  with  romantic  undertones  that  ultimately  lead  to  a  heartbreaking  betrayal  as  lux  ended  up  being  used  (  which  also  exposed  being  manipulated  through  the  years  ).  it  left  luxanna  reluctant  to  involving  herself  in  any  romance,  and  due  to  the  amount  of  her  duties  as  terbisia's  governor,  there's  very  little  time  to  seek  out  something  as  trivial  as  romantic  partner.

tagged  by  :  @witches-and-weirdos  (  thank  you  so  much!!  ). tagging  :  @compasswithin  (  &&.  taliyah!!  ),  @apostisms,  @shimmershots,  @boulderpunched,  @nameaprice,  @lockedfighter,  @cryroh  ( yasuo  &&.  nilah  ),  @goldenfists,  @stahri-light  &&.  @steel-and-fire.

[catandmousebullshit]

@boulderpuncher​ sent ;;  “ Quick question, what are you doing here ?”

     “Could be asking you the same thing.” Though Jake’s reasons were pretty straightforward, he wasn’t about to give Chris a straight answer. Instead he took in the sights around them, eyeing some sort of set-up off in the corner. Some sort of tech. Expensive-looking. He craned his neck in an attempt to see the screen. “Hope we’re here for similar reasons. You still with the Boy Scouts?”

[wrongarmofthelaw]

"It's honestly impressive."

This is for Fiona.

Fiona frowned in confusion. “What are you referring to?”

[noobiestnoober]

The Boulder Puncher and the Broken Couch (Chris X Reader)

Chris Redfield—BSAA legend, boulder-punching icon, and lovable himbo—wants to impress you. Unfortunately, his idea of "impressing" someone involves recreating his infamous volcanic boulder-punching feat… inside your living room. What begins as a casual visit spirals into a chaotic blend of caffeine, confidence, and couch carnage.

It started innocently enough, as most disasters tend to do.

"You ever seen a man punch a boulder?" Chris asked, arms crossed, biceps bulging like he was starring in a late-night fitness infomercial from 1998. His grin was boyish, proud—completely unaware of the domestic doom he was about to unleash.

You blinked at him from across the kitchen island, coffee mug mid-sip. "Chris, no. And I feel like I should keep it that way."

He leaned forward, practically vibrating with excitement. "Wanna see something cool?"

That should have been your first warning. Maybe even your last. In hindsight, inviting Chris over to your apartment after a long mission already teetered on the edge of questionable judgment. But letting him drink three cups of extra-strong espresso? That was a full-speed sprint across the line into absolute chaos.

Caffeinated Chris was a dangerous man. Not in the 'he’ll break your heart' way. More in the 'he’ll accidentally break your walls, ceiling, and possibly the space-time continuum' way.

"Okay, okay, stand back," he said, cracking his knuckles with the kind of intensity most people reserved for defusing bombs or performing emergency surgery.

You didn’t even have time to protest before he dropped into a half-crouch and squared up with your couch. Not a punching bag. Not even a pillow. Your couch. Your not-so-budget-friendly, questionably purchased beige IKEA couch.

"Chris, what are you doing?"

"This thing’s got the structural integrity of a lava rock. Perfect for this," he said, glowing with confidence.

Before your brain could process the absurdity, he punched. The couch exploded. Springs shot into the air like confetti at a doomed celebration. Fabric tore with theatrical flair. One of the legs snapped off and rolled under the coffee table like it was tapping out of the chaos. You stood frozen, coffee cup hovering mid-air, one drop clinging to the rim. Chris looked just as stunned, holding half a seat cushion in one hand and a detached armrest in the other. He stared at the destruction like the couch had somehow betrayed him.

"That... wasn’t supposed to happen."

You set your cup down slowly. "Did you just punch my couch?"

"Technically, yes," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "But in my defense, it looked very boulder-like from that angle."

"Chris. It’s beige. And tufted. With decorative buttons."

He pointed at the wreckage. "It was beige."

You exhaled through your nose and pinched the bridge of your nose. "That couch cost more than your entire tactical vest setup."

"I’ll fix it!" he offered quickly, eyes wide and hopeful. "I’ve got duct tape."

You blinked.

"A lot of duct tape," he added, pulling out an industrial-sized roll from his tactical backpack like it was sacred equipment.

You didn’t have the strength to ask why he was carrying it. You really didn’t want to know.

Instead, you waved vaguely toward the destruction. "Just... clean this up before Jill gets here. I am not explaining this again."

Chris straightened and gave you a salute, serious and overly formal—like he was reporting for a mission titled: “Fix What You Broke.”

"Yes ma’am! Operation Couch Resurrection is underway."

As he knelt beside the ruined frame and began reconstructing it like it was a hostage negotiation, you muttered under your breath, "I should’ve just let him punch a hole in the wall. At least that could be patched."

[bayou-bound]

Meta about how her life was before eveline and mia shows up.

send me a topic to write a meta about my muse on

Zoe had a good relationship with all her family– even with Lucas, despite some animosity between them due to her proneness to use his laptop without permission and a rivalry that blossom from the fact Jack tended to be more physical with Lucas than Zoe when it came to punishments once they were both adults. She was closer to Jack than she was to her mom, spending more time with him because she liked to go with him and uncle Joe when they'd go fishing or gator sighting in the swamp. Jack always wanted a son to do those things with, but Lucas didn't like it, so he took Zoe.

Outside of home, Zoe had a job at the local hardware store in town and she'd been saving up to go to college and become a journalist. Most of her time was spent at work or at home, but she had some close friends and even a could-have-been boyfriend.

All of that went down the drain after the fateful night her brother and dad found the shipwreck.

[ars0nism]

i tell you how im not into extremely unrelaistically buff men but you shove shaxx & chris redfield in my face

[wrongarmofthelaw]

Michael nodded fervently. “I saw... one of the patients who came in. He said their skin was itching. He wasn’t willing to wait. Got in a fight with one of the other patients. I didn’t expect it to escalate like it did... didn’t expect biting. I id my best to get the other people in the waiting room away from them.”

@wrongarmofthelaw ♥️’d.

“You’re scared, you must have seen something.”

[kakemakes]

Jill having Chris the 6’1, 200+Ib, Boulderpuncher Redfields 10Ib baby.

Claire comes by the hospital to visit and she just takes Chris to the side and twists his arm “ You better go out and get her a gift right now. “

[nothingbutmold]

where does your power lie? tagged by: @boulderpuncher​ (ty ty <3) tagging: idk man it’s like 2am, tag me if you see this and do it >:(

the mouth

sharp teeth, sharper tongue, all growl and bark and bite, bite, bite. your power is gritted teeth and set jaws, quick and powerful words, decisive actions. everything you do is so personal and vulnerable - the way you love, the way you are loved, the way you attack, the way you drink in and feast on life.

[catandmousebullshit]

where does your power lie?

the mouth

sharp teeth, sharper tongue, all growl and bark and bite, bite, bite. your power is gritted teeth and set jaws, quick and powerful words, decisive actions. everything you do is so personal and vulnerable - the way you love, the way you are loved, the way you attack, the way you drink in and feast on life.

tagged by: @bayou-bound​ and @boulderpuncher​ / thankuu!

tagging: @lotuskissed @desxderium @rebelw1thacause @bluebracelet​ and anyone else who would like to do it