#the Tragedy of S.T.A.R.S

[autistic-dumbass]

This single note has infested my brain

Just the thought that for the two years S.T.A.R.S was active these three made wesker’s life a living hell

I’m choosing to believe Forest was originally on alpha team but after a week wesker couldn’t handle it anymore

@bumblingbee1

[cho-aaacho]

To you who will be gone

Masterlist

Warning : Angst, Heavy Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Tragedy, Betrayal

He's always been alone; that's just who he is. He doesn't need anyone; he never has. Saying that people fail to understand him, saying that his entire life is a facade, saying that he doesn't need love.

For 15 years, he's spun a web of lies; each one is like cancer. Each lie hurts him deeply. 

Sometimes he wonders if it's worth it, and sometimes he thinks about stopping himself, running away from his life, and leaving everything behind.

"How about if I stop and drown myself in the river?"

But he never did that. Never.

He fondly recalls his time in the S.T.A.R.S. office, surrounded by his men, and all the beautiful things at that time. Their smiles greet him each morning, sharing coffee and laughter. Those were the days when every moment felt like spring.

But... S.T.A.R.S. is now gone. Every gesture he takes now feels agonizing as he betrays them, opting for a path of violence that severs the bonds he once shared with his men. His hands, now covered with their blood, serve as a constant reminder of his betrayal.

He knew that Chris hated him, Jill cursed his name for his betrayal, and perhaps Rebecca and Barry secretly wished for his death. He understood that his actions would inevitably lead to this. What did he expect?

He still recalls the last time he saw your face at the RPD, on a pleasant summer morning. Despite how happy you are that morning, joking with Chris and Joseph, talking about a new movie and music, and teasing Jill, Wesker feels sad. Something inside his heart broke him into pieces. 

Everything seems unplaced and wrong. Empty. Alone.

"How could I do this to everyone here? They're all my friends, aren't they?" He thought to himself.

"But... friends did not stay longer; they could leave you." He continued, trying to make everything better from his point of view.

He always hates summer, and he confided this to Birkin, and the summer of 1998 was the peak of his dislike. 

He couldn't quite pinpoint the reason behind his hatred—perhaps the heat was frying his brain, or maybe he was just overwhelmed by thoughts of his mission.

Time flies, and days pass. Every time he glances at the calendar, a frown is painted on his forehead, and his lower lip is caught between his teeth as he lets out a frustrated sigh. What happened to him? What is the sudden feeling?

Despite his sunglasses shielding his blue eyes and expression, Enrico caught glimpses of Wesker's melancholy, and... in the silence, he would ask, "Is everything okay, Wesker?"

...curious probably worried.

And as an answer, Wesker would dismiss it with a giggle, assuring Enrico that he was fine and had nothing to worry about. Just like that, Enrico would forget, as if it never happened to his partner.

At the end of his shift, Wesker spotted you alone in the hallway, leaning against the wall. You seemed lost in thought, and Wesker couldn't read what was on your mind. Perhaps he didn't want to; cheering on his colleagues wasn't a priority.

With a stack of documents in hand, Wesker stood there awkwardly, like a fool, and didn't say anything or greet you. 

You gazed at your phone and groaned, and it startled him, but as you glanced up at Wesker, the anger on your face softened into a calm expression. A smile curls on your lips. It's cute, to be honest. At least in Wesker's opinion.

"...evening, Wesker," you greeted.

Maybe you'd had a breakup, he thought, or perhaps you were disappointed about missing out on some Digimon merchandise at the toy store.

"You're still here?" he asked, moving closer to you.

"Yeah, Chris pulled a prank on Brad, and now his motorcycle's blown up somewhere because of his prank. He wants me to go pick him up. Useless."

"Oh!" Wesker chuckled. "I thought maybe you'd lost your Digimon merch," he teased, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. Yet a tinge of sadness flickered in his eyes.

"I've given up on that merch. It's too hard to find. But, damn, I still want it so badly! Maybe... I'll get to touch it at least once before I die."

Wesker's smile faltered. "Why do you say that?"

"Well... considering our line of work, I'm not sure I'll make it to old age," you replied. "Maybe I'll meet my end by the end of '98—caught in an explosion."

Silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken thoughts, and after you mentioned the explosion, a voice inside his head pleaded. "Please, just run from me." 

"Oh, I'm sure you'll make it to old age. I can imagine you with a family, maybe even grandchildren, someday. I'll be there to lend a hand," he said with a chuckle, his voice tinged with warmth. "But I do wonder what I'll look like in 30 years."

You laughed and playfully punched his arm. "You'll probably look the same, Wesker. I mean, just look at you. When I first saw you, I thought you were the same age as Brad. I often wonder what your skincare routine is like. But knowing you, you'd probably just say it's just a moisturizer."

He smiled. "Oh, I'm definitely aging. Maybe you just haven't seen me up close. I've got wrinkles too, like Barry."

"Oh, yeah, you're right. But you are aging slower; I've always known that!" 

As both of you laughed, Wesker caught a glimpse of rosy cheeks on your face, prompting him to reflect on his actions. "How could I have done that to you? Should I..."

"Eh, Wesker, I overheard something during lunch," you said, your voice taking on a mysterious tone.

"What did you hear?" Wesker furrowed as he tightened his grip on his documents.

"Well, they're saying people are disappearing in the mountains, and some claim to have seen ghosts. I didn't catch all the details, but apparently this ghost is preying on humans. Cannibalism seems far-fetched, doesn't it?"

"Don't worry too much. It's probably just a rumor. But if it bothers you, you could discuss it with Enrico," he suggested, pausing. "Or perhaps with me?" His last words came out almost as a whisper.

Before you could respond, a phone call from Chris interrupted you, drawing your attention to run to the entrance.

That night remains etched in your memory—cold and chilling, your chest feels hurt and burnt. Chris cradled your bleeding body, rendering you unable to move or speak. Despite your efforts, opening your eyes proved to be a struggle. All you could do was listen.

Oh... Wesker is arguing with Chris. 

"You've killed them with your dirty hands!" Chris' voice pierced the air.

"I think you're a bit confused. I've always been with Umbrella."

Suddenly, all your senses returned, flooding you with memories of what happened to Richard, Forest, Enrico, and everyone else.

You still remember that time. You were on the balcony, locked in an argument with Wesker, desperately trying to make sense of his betrayal. 

He had been a Judas all along; his kindness, smiles, and everything is a facade.

"So, everything was a lie?" Forest's bleeding body startled you. "But why?"

"Don't point fingers at me," Wesker said, but it was devoid of warmth, colder than anything you'd ever heard from him.

You remembered how his laughter and smile used to fill the room with warmth, always making you laugh along, or how gentle he was. 

He pointed his samurai edge at you, a smirk curling on his lips. "I'm sorry it had to come to this. You were the best subordinate. I didn't want to kill you. Perhaps I could have taken you away, run with the wind," he paused. "But I know that's not what you'd want."

Then he shot you right in the chest, sending you plummeting from the balcony to the ground below. As you fell, you caught a glimpse of Forest's lifeless body nearby, with Wesker standing at the edge. He seemed to say something, his lips moving in slow motion.

"Please, just run from me," he whispered, disappearing from your sight.

A/N : Hey there, sorry for my disappearance! I was planning to write another Wesker fanfic but got distracted by something. It's funny how that happens, right?

Btw, I'm writing this after listening to Sakayume by King Gnu and Confused Memories by Yuko Tsuburaya. You should check them out when you get the chance!

[starsandspicedpeaches]

The Alternate Approach

Chrisker Week 2023

Chris Redfield x Albert Wesker

Warnings: None

Word Count: ~1,700

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47571694

“I don’t think you want to die just yet, I have something that is of some interest to you.” 

Wesker turned to a nearby computer and tapped a few buttons. Within moments, the liquid began to drain from the large tank at his side and Chris felt his stomach drop. Inside stood a mass of flesh, humanoid, but certainly not human. Talons ripped out of its hands and pale white flesh clung weakly to its massive frame, creating the illusion that the abomination could be dead, but its heart, dear god —its heart was attached to its chest, beating slowly, making it oh so clear this thing was somehow alive. 

“The ultimate lifeform, Tyrant!”

Chris was horrified, he thought he might be sick but steadied himself, refusing to show any weakness in front of the man standing across from him. All the lies, pain, and the deaths of his fellow S.T.A.R.S. members for this thing? Years spent serving with Wesker only for him to throw Chris and his friends to the mercy of the mansion, to fight horrors the likes of which he assumed would only exist behind a TV screen, knowing that most of them would not only die but suffer in the meantime. It was deplorable. So deplorable it was amusing. Chris felt a laugh rising in his chest, a feeling of hysteria in him that could only be brought out by the Captain making the whole tragedy seem like an elaborate joke. But then he looked at Wesker. 

His captain, who always was so stoic, who Chris looked up to as a model of bravery, the man who had torn through both warfare and the daily dangers of Racoon City, and who had been his strongest support when the job was difficult when things went wrong and lives were lost, was looking back at him. Rarely did Wesker betray emotion on his face, but there was an abnormal tenseness on it right now, like he was waiting for something. Wanting something. Then a strange thought began to dawn on Chris.   

Chris looked down at Rebecca. Wesker had shot her without hesitation. Why not him? And why did he want to show Chris his little science project in the first place? Chris was no scientist, he had no knowledge or appreciation for this kind of thing. So why try to explain it to him? 

Wesker was still standing silently, gun pointed at Chris, watching. Waiting. 

“Wesker. What do you want?” 

The older man looked confused for a moment. “Is it not clear?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Is anything you say ever clear?”

There was a long pause. “Chris.”

“Yes?”

“I want you to join me.”

Chris nearly laughed again.

“Why? I’m not a scientist, I don’t understand any of this shit. I failed half of my classes in high school and went straight into the military.”

Wesker smiled at this, not maliciously, but enough to annoy Chris.

“I don’t know the difference between an acid and a base,” He continued, “Much less how to play with whatever shit you’re apparently into. I can’t help you, I'm just another S.T.A.R.S. member and the rest of us seemed pretty disposable to you. So why me?”

Wesker glanced away for a moment, brows furrowed but still holding tightly to his gun. Chris considered trying to grab it from him while he was distracted but knew that his superior was, well, superior, at least physically. So they both waited in silence. 

“Do you remember Barry’s New Year’s Party?” Wesker finally asked.

Chris was stunned. Here they were in the middle of a secret lab, Wesker having killed all of Chris’s friends and coworkers, right in front of a giant mutated monstrosity and Wesker was asking about a New Year’s party that had happened months ago. He knew the man had no social awareness, but — Jesus fucking Christ. 

“Yeah, I remember.” Chris grumbled, “I remember everyone but you being drunk, and how you kept complaining about how it was too loud and how you were clearly miserable and left before it was even midnight.”

Wesker sighed, clearly not thrilled with Chris’s response, but continued anyway. 

“Do you remember that, even though you were already drunk, you were the first person to greet me?” 

Chris grimaced, remembering vaguely how he had nearly tripped over the coffee table, running up to the captain like a dog that missed his owner. It certainly didn’t help that he was already two shots and a few beers in by nine when Wesker had arrived. 

“Yep, I remember that.”

“And you remember how every time people would start getting loud you would yell at them and check in on me?”

That memory was even fuzzier, but it would definitely explain why everyone kept teasing him and calling him a buzzkill the next day in the office. 

Chris simply nodded back. 

“And this you probably don’t remember either, but before I left, you offered to walk me home just to make sure I was alright, even though you were the one who clearly needed an escort.”

That memory was hazy too, but Chris remembered being alone with Wesker next to the door, catching him by the shoulder before he left, and gentle words shared between the two of them along with an overwhelming feeling of concern. He remembered moving his face far too close to his captain's, the nagging worry that maybe his breath was bad or he was sweaty and not being sure of the last time he showered, and then he remembered almost leaning in before Wesker gently pushed him back and wished him a good night. 

Oh. Now he was starting to get it. 

Chris took a step forward. Wesker’s hand tightened around the gun, but he didn’t move to shoot. 

“Why are you bringing all of this up now?” 

Wesker didn’t respond. 

Taking a deep breath, Chris slowly, gently reached out, placing his hand on top of the gun aimed at him, and began to push Wesker’s arm down. There was resistance for only a moment before the older man complied. When the gun was aimed at the floor, Chris took another step forward and the two were now nearly pressed against each other. His face was far too close to his captain’s. He felt a nagging worry that maybe his breath was bad. Or that he was sweaty and after hours of running around in this godforsaken mansion he definitely needed a shower. But Wesker didn’t move away as he leaned in and Chris decided chances were all of that didn’t matter. 

“So I take it you’re asking for a little bit more than just for me to join you?” Chris asked. 

His superior chuckled. “Yes, I suppose I am.” 

This time, Wesker leaned in the rest of the way and pressed his lips against Chris’s. Almost on instinct, Chris closed his eyes and wrapped an arm around his former captain’s waist, pulling him closer before pushing deeper into the kiss. He felt the blonde man’s arms wrap around his neck and allowed himself, just for a minute, to forget everything that had occurred, what the man touching him had done. And if he could forget for a minute, he could forget for a little bit longer. Why not join him? 

Finally, he pushed Wesker away, taking a moment to catch his breath, his partner’s arms still wrapped around him. 

“Just what are we getting into?” Chris mumbled. 

“Well, for one, a boatload of money when I sell all the assets I’ve stolen from Umbrella, which will then be used to fuel a quick escape from the country and a life of avoiding the company’s attempts to find us for my betrayal.” 

Chris looked back down at Rebecca. Was he really ready to not only assist the man who shot her and Enrico? The man who currently had Jill trapped in a cell? But then again, what would happen to Jill if he refused? Wesker would make quick work of him and then no one could save her. Chris was certainly drawn in by the deal Wesker was offering, but he also knew he could potentially bargain for more.

“What about Jill? Are you going to kill her too?”

“Not personally, but I am preparing the entire estate to self-destruct. I don’t expect she would survive.” 

Chris’s heart began to race. No, he couldn’t let that happen. 

“Let her out. Let her escape and I’ll go with you, help with whatever you need. I want to join you but I won’t have S.T.A.R.S. blood on my hands. I won’t have Jill’s blood on my hands” 

Wesker’s lips tightened and he gripped his weapon a little tighter. 

“I appreciate your loyal mannerisms Chris but don’t want to leave loose ends.” 

“What could she do? Even if she does survive it would be her word against the entire Umbrella Corporation, and you don’t plan on sticking around anyway, right?”

Wesker pondered this idea for a moment and Chris held his breath, unsure if he had made the right play. 

“Fine.” Wesker finally responded. “If I can trust that your future loyalty lays solely with me I’lll let her go.” 

Chris breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Deal, now what are you going to need from me?”

“I’m not quite sure yet, but I do know you don’t have to worry about being a part of any scientific work I choose to complete in the future, I’m more than capable of handling that by myself.”

Wesker had only just finished his sentence when a near-deafening shatter of glass pulled their attention back to the tank that housed the monster. The abomination had broken through the glass, its talons seeming to have shredded the material with nearly no effort. Chris and Wesker glanced at each other.

“I hope the scientific work you plan on handling includes that fucker too.” Chris groaned as the two pulled out their weapons. 

~~~

Happy Chrisker Week everyone! I hope that you’re looking forward to all the content this celebration will encourage and be sure to seek out other creators participating, many of whom I have interacted with and know are fantastic in their respective domains. Speaking of other creators I want to give a huge thank you to the creators who helped me with this story. Thank you to Ardnaif (AO3 and tumblr), Regnard (AO3), and Tea (theredfields on tumblr) who all looked over this piece, made suggestions, and helped me edit. As a small creator it meant the world to me to get these people’s opinions and I know they helped me grow as a writer. I will post the links to their pages below, make sure to give them a follow! Enjoy Chrisker week and feel free to join in, we can always use another creator!

Ardnaif - https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardnaif/pseuds/Ardnaif 

Regnard - https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regnard/pseuds/Regnard

Tea - https://theredfields.tumblr.com/

[damadisangue]

Snow and blood; a light aftertaste of argan, under her skin, where the disease rages, the stench of death - of defeat. Wesker hides his face in her hair, breathing - listening as her smile turns into a fragile, discordant laugh. "You're tickling me, Al." she murmurs, but clings to his body as if they had reached the end - the clock has now lost its hands, the hourglass its last beads. And he can't lose: he wasn't built for that. He cannot fail: it is not contemplated. He cannot stop: not until the world is purged - made worthy. Alex opens her fingers on his chest, studying the line of an old scar - the bead of a bullet that had broken his collarbone when he was still captain of S.T.A.R.S. She inhales, and he knows she feels it too – he can tell by the way she curls up against him, closing her eyes and growing even smaller, thinner.

Broken.

On their skin the smell of tragedy has always been stronger than all the others. 

Amazing and stunning art from the lovely @multieleonora96

[biosurvive]

fun facts with dj, i do love my three main ships for chris, but i do have a big soft spot for s.t.a.r.s. era chr*sker because the tragedy of chris getting betrayed by a man who has been dicking him down for over a year is too spicy for me to not like (*YGFHJFKL

chris getting dicked down in the military and getting discharged chris getting dicked down in raccoon city and then almost getting killed by said man

talk about gay trauma

[mystalwartheart]

Sirens howl. The sounds of helicopters roar overhead as searchlights pierce the blackness to fixate on their target. Boots pound the pavement and incomprehensible military orders are barked into the still night air as the neighborhood is turned for a moment into a warzone.

Jill regards the scene outside with grim resignation and sadness. Suburban tranquility is often only superficial, as the events of the past few weeks have aptly demonstrated, but it makes for a pretty picture and for some...it's all they have. She hates seeing it, doubly so because a friend has been hurt. But Joy left her with no other choice: Justice will be served, and it fell to Jill to be the one to deliver it. Or maybe that's just what she tells herself.

Inside Shy's house, the personal tragedy of the two once-lovers reaches its crescendo just as masked soldiers dressed in black wearing full combat gear pour in through the front door and move into position, weapons primed in a defensive stance. And in the center of it all is Jill Valentine, now all kitted out in fresh combat fatigues and body armor courtesy of S.T.A.R.S. Cincinnati, personal handgun aimed squarely at Joy.

"Freeze. Both of you," Jill orders in a flat, calm voice. "Joy, back away from her. Shy, go tend to your family and guests, but don't leave the house: We're going to have to ask you a few questions, and we have the premises surrounded." Her eyes zero in on Joy like a laser targeting system. "Joy Carmichael, you are under arrest for the crimes of robbery and attempted murder...And for your own protection." Jill's face softens, regarding them both one last time. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

[agentvalentine]

“  How often do you think about it?  You know,  what happened in Raccoon City…  ”  (  oh,  did somebody order angst?  )

There isn’t a day that Jill doesn’t think about it. No matter how much time has passed, how many years, how many more tragedies, Raccoon City haunts her, now and forever.

“All the time,” she confesses.

Even in her dreams—especially in her dreams. The horrors of the Spencer Mansion have stayed with her since 1998. It’s almost like she didn’t even survive that day, like a part of her died in that mansion. And then what followed after wasn’t much easier to process. From one betrayal to the next. The disbandment of S.T.A.R.S., her friends each going their separate ways. Spending sleepless nights at her desk investigating, trying to find the smallest crumb of information that would help her expose the conspiracy.

All for nothing in the end. All to watch the city turn to a cloud of smoke.

She toys with the glass in her hand, watching the drink swirl, before she downs what remains of it in one go.

“How often do you think about it?”

[ao3feed-cleon]

The Fall of Umbrella

by FallenHero_Achilles

Following the tragedy of the Arklay Lab incident, a small group of survivors enters the fight of their lives when the T-Virus escapes from an Umbrella facility and completely transforms Raccoon City into a sprawling necropolis. Isaac Holiday meets the mysterious Lydia Richards, who wants to discover the truth behind the outbreak. Rebecca Chambers fights for her life as she tries to provide assistance within the war zone that has become the Raccoon City Police Station. All while Jill finds herself being hunted by the powerful and horrifying weapon, Nemesis. Meanwhile, rookie cop Leon Kennedy teams up with college student Claire Redfield as each of them enters the city for reasons of their own, unsure of what was really unfolding. Meanwhile, Umbrella sends out another weapon to compliment Nemesis, a surefire way of eliminating not only all members of S.T.A.R.S, but any chosen individuals who possess evidence to incriminate the powerful corporation.

Words: 2199, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of The Raccoon City Saga

Fandoms: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/M

Characters: Original Characters, Leon S. Kennedy, Claire Redfield, Brian Irons, Marvin Branagh, Carlos Oliveira, Jill Valentine, Rebecca Chambers, William Birkin, Annette Birkin, Sherry Birkin

Relationships: Rebecca Chambers/Original Male Character, Leon S. Kennedy/Claire Redfield

Additional Tags: Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Cigarettes, Smoking, Body Horror, Violence, Graphic Description of Corpses, Raccoon City, Destruction, Biological Weapons, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Guns, Lots of guns, Gun Kink, Hurt/Comfort, Action/Horror, Survival Horror, Nuclear Solution, Umbrella Corporation ruining everyone's day, Resident Evil movie references

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/24030094

[kingkumas-world]

Of all the horrible things I've seen in my life, the one image that will forever haunt my mind is the sight of raccoon city getting hit by a missile barrage. I wasn't in the city long that night but the hours that past me by felt like years, seeing innocent people die by the hands of monsters created by umbrella, having to gun down my co-workers in the police department, dealing with the B.O.W.s, having to kill William Birkin, but watching that explosion and hearing the broadcast that followed..... clicked something in me. I vowed never again to let a tragedy like this happen again, so when the government offered me a position to become a special agent to fight against B.O.W.s I couldn't refuse.

Every few years I stop by the memorial that the government placed not to far from the crater of the city, its atop a hill overlooking the ruins, made from obsidian its honors the victims that were killed in the chaos of that tragedy. I'm not the only one who stops here though obviously, the occasional tourist stops by and some survivors from the city who managed to escape in time come here to pay their respects too, but also some friends of mine who helped bring down umbrella like Claire, her brother Chris and his friend Jill along with their colleagues Barry and Rebecca. Sherry sometimes stops here too but shes always a wreck if we stay here too long, can't say I blame her, watching her father transform into a monster and to watch him die as an abomination would do that to a person. Chris had brought a photo of his S.T.A.R.S. team from when he was a member to leave here on the memorial so people would know the sacrifices they made to protect people.

I'll never forget this city and the horrors that were wrought upon it, the missiles the struck the city destroying all the B.O.W.s and whatever survivors were left inside, they way the cloud formed almost made it looked like a nuke dropped on the city. But the other thing that sticks in my mind just as vividly as the explosion was the news broadcast I heard play that was covering what was going on in the city and why I will never stop fighting against bio-terrorists and the monsters they unleash.

"And now we have a rather unfortunate turn of events. It seems that the President and the Federal Council have passed judgement over the civilians of Raccoon City. The President and Federal Council have ruled that the Bacillus Terminate operation... is the best course of action for this extreme situation and have since... executed it. Based on that fact, Raccoon City has been literally wiped off the map. Current reports have the death toll surpassing the 100,000 mark. Our hearts go out to those poor civilians... of Raccoon City."