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katerina-marie · 3 days

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The Hot Mic Incident (Feel Like Falling in Love)

Sukuna x Reader

A sequel to this and part 2 of a larger (unnamed) series. I do recommend reading part 1 first to be able to understand certain references in this one.

If someone asked you who was most likely to accidentally spill the beans about your new (and still secret) relationship with Sukuna, your answer would have to be your white-haired co-star. But when an unintentional hot mic reveals to the world what wasn't ready to be shared, let's just say it wasn't Gojo Satoru at fault for once.

Notes: A continuation of my Sukuna x Reader celebrity!au inspired by music (though only loosely, so don't look too closely at lyrical meaning). In this case, it's Feel Like Falling in Love by MeloMance. I'm writing this series as inspiration strikes, so these fics may not always be posted according to the series' linear timeline. I will make sure to note when each chapter takes place in relation to the others (this one takes place a couple months after part 2). I will also get around to making a master list of them in chronological reading order as more comes. I hope you enjoy:)

Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo, other favorites who have small supporting rolls, all fluff, crack, and humor, innuendos, illusions to sexting, but no actual sexting occurs (sorry), so please read accordingly, out of character and fluffy Sukuna. Please let me know if I miss something!

WC: 4.3k

——————————————————————————————————————————

“Isn’t it a little early in the morning to be sending naughty pictures to your boyfriend? It’s like 7:00 am.”

You jumped half a foot in the air and clambered to juggle your phone in your hands before it tumbled out and slid four feet across the backstage floor of the talk show studio.

“You need to be wearing a bell, Satoru,” you hissed over your shoulder at the menace that had appeared behind you so suddenly, “and it was not an inappropriate photo. I was completely dressed.”

You teetered over in your heels to grab your phone off the floor and prayed that it wasn’t cracked down the middle, lest you make Satoru cough up punitive damages to make up for it.

“In my experience, being fully clothed is not a prohibiting factor.”

Satoru snickered at the look of disgust on your face and gave you a small shrug, “Who knows, maybe Sukuna’s into th—,”

You threw yourself forward to try and cover his mouth with your hands, but even in heels you still lacked the necessary height to make contact. You settled for pinning him in place with a glare.

“Will you keep quiet please? I swear, if you and your fat mouth reveal this to anyone, I’m going to have Toji leak that photo of you from one of our nights working on that period piece last year!”

You watched with glee as Satoru’s eyes widened in abject horror, and he reached out to grip the tops of your arms and drag you close to his face. A quick peek from your peripheral confirmed that the staff lingering around the studio probably hadn’t been close enough to hear, but they were certainly watching with poorly disguised interest.

Were you and Satoru contracted into a false relationship in order to help promote the upcoming movie the two of you were co-starring in? No, that only happened in fiction. Was it firmly implied by the producer that some offscreen tension and chemistry during the course of the film would promise to be advantageous to you both? Yes, and you presumed that in the pursuit of a paycheck some simple flirting couldn’t hurt anyone…though that was a year or so ago, and you were now closer to sending Satoru to an early grave than jumping in bed with him like fans and media were hoping for.

“Suguru swore he made you delete any evidence of that!”

You stuck your tongue out at him and pulled back against the hold he had on your arms, but he didn’t loosen his grip in the slightest.

“He did, but didn’t bother to check with Toji. Looks like that weird phobia you two have of him is coming to bite you in the ass now.”

Satoru released you with a shiver and took a large step back, his eyes roaming the expanse of the studio as if he expected your bodyguard to be summoned out of thin air at the sheer mention of his name. You didn’t blame him, however, because Toji had a habit of doing just that.

“It’s not a weird phobia,” Satoru muttered, rubbing his throat absentmindedly and pouting down at you, “it’s PTSD.”

You snorted. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was too!” Satoru cried, “He punched me in the throat and nearly sent Suguru through a wall!”

“You and your idiot manager were trying to break into my house at 2:00am, drunk as skunks I might add! What did you think was going to happen? We barely knew each other then.”

Satoru looked down at you aghast, stunned that you didn’t sympathize with his emotions. You considered it even more bewildering that he seriously thought that you would pick his side. You were about to let him know such when your phone dinged twice in quick succession, effectively capturing your attention.

“Look,” you huffed at him, waving your phone in front of his face so he could catch a glimpse of the time (and hopefully ignore who’s name had popped up under it), “we only have like thirty more minutes before we have to get out there and I need some time to decompress, so I’m going back to the dressing room.” You started to turn away before throwing over your shoulder, “Don’t get into any trouble in the meantime.”

Satoru rolled his eyes at you, and—in that intolerable way of his—couldn’t let you possibly have the last dig at him and jerked his head to the phone in your hand.

“It’s not me I’m worried about. Have fun sext—,”

“Goodbye, Satoru!” You made yourself scarce before he could say anything else, eager to find the privacy of your dressing room so you could fawn over your boyfriend in peace.

By the time you made it into the safety of your dressing room a few minutes later, your heart was pounding—and not just from getting lost in all the maze-like hallways—and you tried to decide if hiding in the attached closet to talk with Sukuna on the phone or sitting on the couch in the open with a lovesick grin on your face would look less suspicious should someone walk in. Neither option promised much.

Before you could make up your mind, your phone was ringing, so in order to be able to answer the call as quickly as you could, you dove for the couch and tried not to sound completely breathless when you answered with a quiet, “hi, good morning.”

“Hey,” Sukuna replied back to you, voice equally soft but tinged with a dry hoarseness that usually followed him out of sleep. It made your toes wiggle uncontrollably against the floor.

“Oh I’m sorry, did I wake you with the picture? That wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to keep you up to date with my day,” you murmured to him.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t. And besides, even if it did, it’s not a bad way to start my day.” His words made you melt back into the cushions and you kicked your feet in silent giddiness before tucking them underneath you. “You look stunning, by the way.”

“Thank you,” you giggled, “though getting here to get ready while it was still dark outside was borderline torture. I’d say that it’s an unfair slight against women, but I’m pretty sure Satoru’s hair and skincare routine took just as long.”

Your boyfriend let out a disgusted scoff at the mention of your costar’s name, “Please tell me that q-tip is behaving himself.”

“Sukuna!” You chastised, though you couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up in your throat at the comparison, “You can’t call him that…even if it is somewhat accurate.”

“It’s one hundred percent accurate,” he argued, “but I won’t call him that to his face…probably.”

You shook your head in exasperated amusement, nibbling on the bottom skin of your lip before continuing on, “He’s behaving for the most part, aside from his two insinuations that our conversations this morning were of a sexual nature.”

Sukuna was silent on the other end for a moment before replying back in a low voice with something that had you choking on your spit, “Would you like them to be?”

He could be heard laughing as you nearly coughed your way into a premature death.

“I’m about to go in front of a live audience and on live tv!” You exclaimed.

“That’s not a ‘no’,” Sukuna pointed out hopefully.

“No.”

He let out a dramatic sigh and you reached over to a nearby coffee table to unscrew a bottle of water and chug half of it down in the hopes it would help cool you off.

“Speaking of,” he said, sounding just a tad hesitant, “I’ll uh, tune in to the show to watch if that’s okay with you.”

You heart skipped a silly little beat at the idea that he wanted to watch some cheesy talk show just to get a glimpse of you.

“I don’t mind,” you told him, “but it’s going to make me a little nervous knowing you’ll be watching as I stumble through this interview.”

“Don’t be,” he chuckled, though something in his voice sounded just slightly wicked, “now you’ll get an idea of how I feel when I have to perform.”

The innuendo had whatever sweet reassurance you had poised at the tip of your tongue fly out of your head, and you scrambled to come with a response that could be said back without implying anything further. The swinging open of your door, however, saved you from the task.

“Hey, Princess,” Toji called as he leaned his torso around the door, “you need to be out there in five.”

You startled from your spot on the couch, surprised to realize that your leg was bouncing from where it was propped up on your knee and your finger was twirling a piece of your hair.

Love made you stupid.

“Toji,” you snapped, “have you ever heard of knocking?”

Your bodyguard rolled his eyes, “I did. Twice.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, especially because you could hear Sukuna cackling through the phone, confirming he heard what Toji just said.

“Oh…I’ll be right there, okay?” You shooed him off with a flick of your fingers and Toji smirked at you as he began closing the door.

“Don’t be late or I’m sending Gojo in to fetch you.”

The door closed shut before you could get a word in and you leaned back with a heavy sigh before returning your attention to your phone call, “I’ve to go. I’ll call you when the whole thing is over and I’m back home, yeah?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll be waiting for you. Good luck, okay?”

You weren’t sure if it was all in your head, but you swore you heard a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“Thank you. Bye, Sukuna,”

“Bye, Princess,” he sing-songed, and you couldn’t help but smile as you clicked off the call.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Twenty minutes later found you and Satoru sitting next to each other on a platform stage surrounded by bright lights, a large live audience sprawled in front of you, and an all too perceptive interviewer who had started the interrogation just a couple minutes prior. You wiggled in your seat, uncomfortable from the various wires and clips that secured your mic to your back under your dress.

“So,” she began, nailing you with a look that promised nothing good, “you and Satoru were supposed to film an advert on the beach early this last summer, but it ended up being you and the so-called ‘King of Curses.’ Tell me, how did that come about?”

You hesitated a moment, thankful the question wasn’t anything too invasive, but you were still hoping to avoid talking about Sukuna altogether. Usually Nanami would heavily emphasize what could and couldn’t be spoken of before these appearances, but since he wasn’t here, you assumed it had been left to Geto. In that case, you knew he couldn’t be bothered since predicting whatever was going to come out of Satoru’s mouth during these things was an art not yet mastered.

“Well,” you started, clasping your hands together so they didn’t shake, “it really just came about out of well-timed convenience and a favor to the director. We didn’t want to waste any of the crew’s time or have to worry about re-aligning schedules, so Sukuna saved the day by offering to help. Plus, ‘The Curses’ new song at the time got to debut in it, so it was a win-win for everyone! Except for maybe Satoru, of course.”

In an effort to divert attention from your answer, you threw Satoru a faux-friendly smile and urged him with a widening of your eyes to explain his part.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, adjusting himself in the seat and setting a convincing pout on his face. “I just happened to get pulled into something personal last minute and was going to be late to the shoot. I’m appreciative that the “King of Curses” was able to step in and save the day.”

You didn’t miss the obvious sarcasm dripping from Sukuna’s nickname when it came out of Satoru’s mouth, and you had to hide a giggle behind your hand at the thought of your boyfriend cursing at his TV at home.

“But,” Satoru continued, jolting you into awareness when he turned to you and ran a long finger down the bare skin of your arm, “I’m super bummed I missed our chance to get wet together.” The smirk on his face was downright evil, and you just knew your face was a picture of stunned disbelief. The audience was tittering with amusement.

“You wear me out, Satoru,” you hissed at him, batting his hand away from where it still traced slowly over your skin.

Satoru laughed and threw his head back against his chair before taking a quick look at the camera and then leaning in towards you until your noses nearly touched, “I’m flattered you’d admit that on live television.”

Your jaw, and everyone else’s for that matter, fell to the floor and you could only gawk at him. Over the interviewer’s shoulder, you could see Toji backstage laughing his ass off as Geto stood at a respectable distance next to him shaking his head.

We better get those damned bonuses from the producer.

“Well!” The interviewer laughed a bit nervously, breaking the tension in the room and turning to the main camera in front of you all, “That was surely something. We have to go to a commercial, but we’ll be back with these two in just a couple minutes!”

The outro music sounded over the speakers and you and Satoru were released from your chairs to scurry backstage. In between sending friendly waves to the audience and starting the walk backstage, you flipped the switch on your mic off.

“I’m going to kill you, Satoru,” you spat under your breath as the two of you left stage.

The idiot had the gall to laugh, and in your frustration you took a couple large steps to get a head of him. And because the universe didn’t hate you enough, you felt the toe of your heel catch on a stray cable on the floor, pitching you off balance. In your flailing, you reached out to grasp at whatever object could possibly break your fall, and in doing so latched on to Satoru’s sleeve, jerking the poor bastard off his feet and onto you as you both tumbled to floor in a heap of tangled limbs.

Your back hit the ground first, your mic digging painfully into your back with a suspicious crack of plastic followed by Satoru landing on your front, pushing all the air from your lungs with a painful “oomph.”

You stared at the ceiling of the studio, wondering how quickly things would go if one of the giant studio lights fell from above and crushed you under it. You were never going to live this down, especially since it happened still in view of the cameras and the audience if the raucous laughter was anything to go by.

“You know, I never imagined I would actually get you under me,” Satoru mused, staring down at you for a second before lifting his giant self off and then pulling you up to follow. He held a hand against your lower back as the two of you made it to the cover of backstage.

“Honestly,” you admitted, still a little dazed, “I never would have thought so either.”

Staff fluttered around you a minute later, offering water, smoothing your hair out, and ensuring neither of you were hurt…at least not physically. Your pride was a whole other matter.

“Oh no,” you groaned, catching Satoru’s attention once everyone had cleared out around you, “he was watching. He just saw me eat it on live television.”

Your co-star cocked a confused eyebrow at you, “You mean Sukuna was watching?”

“Oh please,” you muttered, “like you didn’t guess. And yes, Sukuna was watching, and now I’m not going to be able to look him in the eye this evening.”

There was a general increased noise coming from the front of the studio, but you were too preoccupied with your own embarrassment to think much of it.

“And why is that?” Satoru asked.

You threw your hands up purely because you didn’t know what else to do with them, “I don’t really know exactly, but there is still something supremely humiliating about doing something embarrassing like that in front of my new boyfriend. He makes me nervous enough as is.”

There was a sudden outbreak of hollers and clapping from out front, and you swung your head around to look and see if anyone had a clue as to what was going on. It took you a minute before you could see Toji running at you with a wild look on his face.

“Toji, what the hell—?” You didn’t get to finish your question before he was spinning you around by the shoulders, yanking down the zipper of your dress, and ripping the mic from your back. You shrieked in disbelief as you whirled back around to figure out what in the world he had been thinking.

“Toji!”

“Your mic has been on this whole time,” he growled, showing you the blinking green light on the cracked plastic box. You swore you had turned it off, but seeing as how it took the brunt of the impact when you fell on it earlier, you supposed it wasn’t unlikely that it had turned back on.

With sudden cold rushing through your body and a sick ball of dread settling into your gut, you looked between Satoru’s dumbfounded expression and Toji’s face of pure exhaustion and immediately decided that if the ground wasn’t going to swallow you up whole, you were going home.

“Get me out of here!”

——————————————————————————————————————————

After finally making it to some undisclosed back alley across from the talk show studio, you were assisted out from your crouch in a trash bin by studio security and ushered to a small nearby out-cove to wait for your bodyguard.

And you just wanted to be famous soooo bad. Glamorous life, my ass.

As luck would have it, you were made aware today of just how famous you, and especially Sukuna, were. For all the grief you gave Satoru about not accidentally spilling the beans about your newly minted—and still secret—relationship with Sukuna, you were the one that had the unintended pleasure of doing the grand reveal. So now the world was free to stir whatever frenzy they saw fit, from the intensely devoted fangirls of Sukuna’s band, to the entire acting community, and the worst of all…your mother. You suspected you were a couple minutes away from an angry phone call demanding an explanation as to why she had to find out from the internet that you were dating a boy with pink hair and face tattoos and how much longer it would be until she had grandchildren.

All of this chaos and Nanami just happened to be in a whole other country.

You suddenly regretted sending him on that vacation.

A sharp squeal of tires caught your attention and you looked up to see a shiny sports car peal around the corner and come to a rumbling stop a couple feet in front of you. Before you could even begin to guess who it could be, the head of your bodyguard appeared as the tinted black window of the passenger side door rolled down.

“Get in the car,” Toji hissed, eyes darting to and fro.

You wasted no time and nearly dove through the open window in your haste to escape broad daylight. You had just finished buckling your seatbelt in the back when Toji mashed the gas pedal and the car leapt forward.

“Christ, Toji!” You gasped, clasping the headrest of the seat you were just flung into, “Whose car is this? It’s certainly not yours.”

He snorted. “Yeah, cause you don’t pay me enough.”

“Rude,” you muttered back to him, “and not true.”

You tried to squint out the front windshield to determine where you might be, but brick buildings towered on either side of you still, and you assumed Toji was taking some alternative route home. “Seriously though, whose car is this? It’s not one of mine.”

“Does it matter?”

You rolled your eyes at his bored tone, “Yes, it does. Toji, I’m not your wife, but—”

“Thank God.” He sounded entirely too relieved about that.

“Still rude!” You yelped, but brushed aside the sting of offense to figure out whose leather seats your dress was currently dropping glitter all over. “I’m not your wife, so I don’t particularly care to know what unscrupulous activities you get up to when I’m not keeping you busy—,”

“None,” he deadpanned, shooting you a glare through the rear view mirror.

“—which I’m pretty sure I had you sign a non-compete, but that’s besides the point. I really need you to tell me where you got this car. In case you aren’t aware, my name is going to be plastered on every social media post, blog page, and headline in the next 24 hours and I’d rather that not include my mugshot with “accomplice to grand theft auto” under it. So tell me who this car belongs to right now or I’m jumping out.”

Toji had the audacity to chuckle at you before reaching back to pat your knee.

“Relax a bit. You know I wouldn’t ever put you in harm’s way on purpose. This is Gojo’s car. Ours was being swarmed by the media out front after your little slip up, so I threatened Geto for the idiot’s keys cause I knew it was out back and the quickest way I could get to our little rendezvous point.”

“Oh,” was all you managed to get out. Letting your racing mind settle down a bit, you snuggled deeper into the plush leather seats and kicked your feet up onto the center console. You got two seconds of peace before Toji opened his mouth again.

“I’m going to have to call Nanami.”

“No!” You gasped, springing upright again and feeling a warm sting creep to your eyes as your throat began to tense up. “He’s on vacation! I promised we wouldn’t bother him unless one of us was dying. I’d never forgive myself if he had to come home to clean up my sloppy love life!”

Toji shook his head and shot you a sad smile over his shoulder as he reached for his phone sitting in the front cup holder.

“We may not really have an option, Sweetheart. Not only is Uraume going to be a huge pain to deal with since this could affect Sukuna’s band, but you’ve also got contracts and appearances promised that may get shaken by the fact it’s been revealed to the world that you've been secretly dating the music industry’s favorite ‘hate to love’ rockstar. We can’t fix this without Nanami.”

The panic that had been brewing in your stomach this whole time was starting to make your head spin up, so you blamed it on that when you lurched out of your seat and nearly over Toji’s shoulder to snatch the phone out of his hand before he could hit ‘dial’ on Nanami’s contact.

Your bodyguard swore when you knocked him in the face with your elbow in your clamber and his hand gave a vicious jerk of the wheel that had horns blaring from either side of your car as Toji swerved to correct it. You were thrown back into the seat you had just previously been in and you waited with heaving breaths as the car jolted sideways once more before continuing on straight. The fact you barely missed crashing was a testament to Toji’s reflexes.

“Don’t you ever do stupid shit like that again, you hear me?!” You’d never heard Toji raise his voice at you and it did nothing to help quell the tears about to start pouring from your eyes, “I know you’re stressed and something big has just happened to you, I get it, but that’s no excuse to do something dumb! You just about gave me a heart attack,” he finished, his voice still at a higher volume than normal, but it was softened by the edge of panicked concern and the worried glances he was giving you.

That was enough to push you over the edge.

“I-I’m sorry, Toji,” you sobbed, upset at yourself for messing up again, “I wasn’t thinking, and I don’t want Nanami to feel like he has to babysit me for the rest of his life, or you to think I’m an airhead or something. I also really like Sukuna and I don’t want him to hate me because of what I did!”

You let your head fall into your hands and hiccuped through another shuddering cry as you struggled to get ahold of the overwhelming-ness of it all. You felt Toji’s hand on your knee again.

“Hey, hey, take deep breaths for me. No one’s thinking that, I promise you. And I’m sorry for yelling at you like that. It was wrong. It’s no excuse, but that scared the crap out of me and I thought we for sure were getting into an accident,” he admitted. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

You nodded through your tears, unable to respond to him in any way that was legible.

“Look, we’re almost home. Try and deep breathe for me. Once we get there I’ll help you get comfortable and we’ll figure this out together, okay?”

As was frequent with Toji, you valued his ability to keep you calm when you got into the worst of yourself and you were grateful for his steady confidence. You reached out and clasped the hand he still had stretched back on your knee to give it a squeeze, hoping it could convey all the thanks you had for him. The two of you kept driving in comfortable silence until you felt the car slow and saw a flash of a familiar gate out the front windshield.

“Hey,” Toji started, his voice suspiciously light, “you think Gojo would realize if we never returned his car?”

——————————————————————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! I've got ideas for parts 3 and 4 already, so I'm hoping to work on those in the next coming days.

I'll also be posting this series on AO3 under Katerina_Mar if you would prefer to read there:)

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #toji fushiguro #gojo satoru

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rmd-writes · 1 day

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks @cha-melodius @hippolotamus @mammameesh @kiwiana-writes @happiness-of-the-pursuit for the tags. I'm sure I've done this before but I can't find it to see how long ago!

How many works do you have on ao3?

What's your total ao3 word count?

591,653 but that's inflated by a number of collabs, I think the number is closer to 400-450k

What fandoms do you write for?

RWRB, 911 LS and SC (rarely these days)

Top five fics by kudos:

Excluding any collabs (there's a couple in particular that are right up there)

Everybody needs good neighbours | RWRB | E | 14.3k | neighbours au

to the victor, the spoils | RWRB | E | 19.4k | lawyer au

yours for the afternoon | RWRB | M | 4.6k | coffee shop au

what, like it's hard? | RWRB | E | 65.1k | lawyer au, the prequel

I want you, I need you, oh baby oh baby | RWRB | E | 7k | college au

Do you respond to comments?

Yes, I try to! I'm not always prompt but I do respond to almost every comment

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Happy endings only here. I do have one unpublished Tarlos ficlet that's kind of a Queen Charlotte inspired future fic that is the saddest thing I've ever written which is the result of @howtosingit saying "whatever you do, don't think about X" which of course meant that I did and I wrote it in a fever dream, cried then buried it in my gdocs.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them hahaha

Maybe the ending to what, like it's hard?

Do you get hate on fics?

I've gotten some strange comments but I don't know that I'd class it as hate, as such (thankfully)

Do you write smut?

nah yeah lol

Craziest crossover:

It's not a proper fic, but I wrote this in response to an ask about what would happen in Alex & Henry, David & Patrick and Carlos and TK all met.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not as far as I am aware!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes and I love it! I've done collabs where we each write a chapter, one where we each wrote a chapter and then fully co-wrote the final chapter, a full co-write with @welcometololaland (that ended up morphing into each of us alternating chapters), and I'm in the process of another co-write with Lola atm.

All time favorite ship?

you can't make me choose

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't like to say never, but probably the SC paint & sip au

What are your writing strengths?

based on the comments I get - smut with feelings, banter/dialogue, characterisation

What are your writing weaknesses?

World building, pretty metaphors, I'm far too fond of run on sentences to the point where if I was beta reading my own writing there are SO MANY sentences that need to be cut down so that the reader can breathe.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

If it fits the character, I love it! I generally ask a native speaker to help me with translations for accuracy

First fandom you wrote in?

Schitt's Creek

Favorite fic you've written?

I don't wanna choose

I've got no idea who's done this already but I'll tag @welcometololaland @everwitch-magiks @clottedcreamfudge @indomitable-love @three-drink-amy

@never-blooms @freneticfloetry @strandnreyes @heartstringsduet @reyesstrand

@indestructibleheart @orchidscript @maxbegone @carlos-in-glasses @beautifulhigh

and an open tag if anyone hasn't been tagged and wants to play 💖

#20 questions #about me #rmd writes

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cricketnationrise · 20 hours

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20 questions for fic writers

Thanks to @cha-melodius, @kiwiana-writes, and @happiness-of-the-pursuit for the tags!

How many works do you have on ao3?

253

What's your total ao3 word count?

481,635

What fandoms do you write for?

RWRB, Check Please!, Tortall, verrrry occassionally The Parasol Protectorate

Top five fics by kudos:

Going Platinum - camboy!Alex AU

Burnin' Through the Sky - speed dating meet-cute

Set in Platinum - camboy!Alex sequel

warm from the inside out - some stuff happens under a desk 😉

Downburst - In The Shadow of Two Gunmen/West Wing AU

Do you respond to comments?

I have responded to every comment so far!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't tend to write angsty endings. That being said, this Check, Please! ficlet I wrote for @shygryf is very angsty: Hotel Room, Mar. 1 (I did fix it with a later ficlet, but on it's own...)

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of them tbh. I'm an unrepentant happy ending lover.

Do you get hate on fics?

Nothing that comes to mind--I've been extremely lucky. I've gotten some baffling ones and some with a strange tone, but I think that's more down to English not being their first language, not hate.

Do you write smut?

Yes.

Craziest crossover:

I tend toward fusions/AUs rather than actual crossovers. Although there are Check Please! easter eggs in the Going Platinum universe.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of, although I would hope that any translator would have let me know so that I can flail in overwhelmed gratitude.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet, although there's one that's been sitting for a year-ish that I'm gonna be really excited to finally get to.

All time favorite ship?

I won't choose and you can't make me.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Not right now. All the wips I've got that are more than just like, one line or a title, I'm really excited about writing and sharing.

What are your writing strengths?

Immersive descriptions, humor, and metaphors. This bitch loves a metaphor.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes. I'm getting better, but any time I have a particularly big action scene I beg on my knees for @cha-melodius to get into the doc.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Only If I feel confident about the translation. I'll usually get a native speaker to check it over if it's more than an easy phrase I already know/can google, especially if it's a whole conversation.

First fandom you wrote in?

Check, Please!

Favorite fic you've written?

You're so mean to me making me pick. Le sigh, fine.

Check, Please!: How Delightful if that Were True - Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society AU (100% homegrown epistolary baybee)

RWRB: More Than Brick and Mortar - sentient Brownstone AU, magical realism

Tortall: i'll rise up in spite of the ache - hockey AU of First Test

Parasol Protectorate: No Small Matter - 5+1 pranks on Conall that I wrote for @homobiwan

(narrowing these down was absolute agony, btw. hope you're happy.)

Tags under the cut, but if you wanna do this, who am I to stop you? Aka consider this your open tag.

@celeritas2997 @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @anincompletelist

@firenati0n @missanniewhimsy @montrealmadison @doggernaut @parvuls

#cricket writes #writer games #20 questions #rwrb #omgcp #tortall #parasol protectorate #check please #personal faves

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capriciouslyterminal · 6 months

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All I want…is for Pete to have a white streak in his hair where Wiggly touched him. Okay? Is that too much to ask? For the drama???

#like the great horror protagonists of lore #am I writing a fic to make that happen yes #has it already gone through like three plot shifts yes #does it involve the Lords in Black sticking around Hatchetfield High to cause cosmic horror yes #is it already almost ten thousand words you’d better believe it #one day I’ll finish something and not produce a novella #starkid #nerdy prudes must die #nerdy prudes spoilers #peter spankoffski #hatchetfield

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potatoesandsunshine · 4 months

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listen like... in my opinion the pov character should be wrong or contradictory or unreliable sometimes. this is third person limited they're not supposed to have all the information or always be right. the narrator doesn't stop being a character

#if i am doing a good job as an author then the reader can TELL when this is happening #i just think it's so boring to write from one character's perspective if that means flattening out everything that makes them a character #if he tells the audience he's outgrown something but the entire story is about how you're never as far from the past as you think #then the implication is that this is NOT outgrown. anyway you've gotta trust your readers a bit.#got a GREAT comment on a fic where someone noticed this and it made me smile all day. like YES you saw what i was hoping for you to see

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umhuhwellthen · 4 months

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Uhhhh

Usagi Yojimbo

Fake Marriage AU:

Tomoe Ame x Usagi x Mariko x Kenichi

LISTEN LISTEN HEAR ME OUT OKAY

You know how that one advisor/vassal bastard whatever-his-name-is that convinced Noriyuki to marry off Mariko(lords could pick out spouses for their samurai)

What if...some staff in the court heard this plot and alerted Tomoe Ame before the fucker could bring it up to Noriyuki

And she's like fuck the only way I can think to get out of any arranged marriage is by being married but who can I...

Like always our boy Miya popping up at either the worst or best times possible

Now I don't know what logical loops Tomoe Ame goes through for asking Usagi plus his childhood friends to marry her but even though I don't know the why I know the what and how so let's get this AU rolling

She asks Usagi to take her with to visit his hometown for...reasons, yeah... And when they get there she goes dogeza(because girl is desperate and knows that lil shit gunning for her position will not only do a shit job as Noriyuki's right hand but definitely has the vibes of turncoat for self-preservation and so she needs this marriage) asking them to marry her

And they're like um, who are you asking????

Because the way they're positioned it looks like she's proposing to Kenichi, who is y'know married to Mariko(i wanted this to be pre-marriage but then i remembered Jotaro so sacrifices must be made for best boi)

And she doubles down "the three of you, a polyandrous marriage."

"WHAT!?"-childhood friends gang

Then she explains how it's to prevent a plot to weaken her lords court etc etc maybe some other stuff too to convince Kenichi and Mariko(Usagi is always down to help his friends, he's lied to shogunate spies and cops to protect himself or his buddies, ride or die)

A (reluctant) agreement is made and they do the wedding

Now it's basically

Mariko: Bi-crisis ⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄×⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠)⁠⁄ women...hot?????(living out her teenage fantasy)

Kenichi: Bi-crisis(Demisexual) (⁠‘///◉⌓⁠◉⁠///’) people outside of Mariko... hot?????USAGI HOT????? [Mariko was the only person he had ever had romantic or sexual attraction too so he assumed she was the only one for him, turns out if she hadn't been his first crush and thus birthing a rivalry with Usagi he would've developed a crush on him too, his type is strong sense of duty and good with a sword]

Usagi: Outwardly= worried about Tomoe's situation and how long this good thing will last before it's snatched away like all the things he's ever loved. (⁠・⁠–⁠・⁠;) Inwardly=YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHH!!! every secret desire and teenage fantasy is coming alive. \(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)/ (huh, so I did have a crush on Kenichi back then...)

Tomoe: ya girl is STRESSED. Having to deal with political scheming, making sure her charade isn't found out, making sure that box she locked up her feelings for Usagi with stays buried deep, AND whatever blossoming feelings she has for his childhood friends because Oh No They're Hot (what is in the water for them all to turn out like this)

Jotaro is out here living his best life, finally getting the two dads he wanted PLUS a cool new mom?? SIGN HIM THE FUCK UP!!!

In summation: Tomoe Ame is living in drama/action/romance anime while everyone else is in a romance/comedy/slice of life anime

Endgame is polycule and Tomoe Ame being confused over how things ended up like this

Tomoe Ame tops them

EDIT: Tomoe's type is cringefail losers, the boys are for obvious reasons but you better believe I'm counting Mariko as one, look at the whole Jotaro reveal situation and say she made no cringefail moves

It's fine now tho, Jotaro gets his two cakes in the end with bonus free desert (does this metaphor even work)

Deberían decir gracias a @ranarenee por la inspiración indirecta para esto

Specifically this Art

#is this what happens when you down two bags of green tea #usagi yojimbo #miyamoto usagi #tomoe ame #usagi yojimbo tomoe ame #mariko #mariko usagi yojimbo #kenichi #kenichi usagi yojimbo #jotaro #jotaro usagi yojimbo #SCREAMS//WILL THESE SAMURAI RABBITS STOP GIVING ME AU IDEAS #will i be making art for this yes will i be writing fic NO #I've already sketched out ideas #fake marriage au #usagi yojimbo fake marriage au

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thebest-medicine · 17 days

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Just a quick curiosity - do you accept gifts from followers?

Just a quick follow up to your curiosity with a curiosity of my own - what do you mean by gifts?

#tbh I’ve been thinking about setting up like a kofi / cashapp #and possibly feetfinder or something #and also I have a few video content things I filmed with mister ttt that I would like to edit / possibly offer on manyvids or something #I NEED MAKE MORE CONTENT #also like. maybe fic commissions but idk. ALSO LIKE. I AM and enjoyer of gifts. fics. tips. whatevers.#also I need a laptop because mine was work issued and my other older one is from high school and barely functions so I have to use my ex’s #it’s awkward looking for jobs with your ex / roommate / person who makes way more than you lol #ANYWAY RANT OVER #yes I would love a gift of any kind. draw me a picture. send me a kind message. write me something. send me a dollar. buy me a laptop.#anything is possible #answered #anon #personal #aww #it sucked having to leave my last job but I couldn’t do it anymore #too many #shitty things I had to see happen to kids #ANYWAY

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storybook-souls · 1 year

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Rating: G Word Count: 3967

Raine manages a deep, full breath, and pulls their hand away from Eda’s so they can rub their eyes under their glasses again. “I only even actually drank one cup of that tea.” There’s a beat of silence. Then, “What tea?” says Eda. (On the first morning since the world stopped ending, Raine and Eda go sit on the roof of the Owl House.)

#the owl house #toh #toh spoilers #toh fic #raeda #hi everyone. give me attention please.#i had so much fun writing this...raine is maybe the single most targeted-to-me character ever put to the screen....#everything about their entire arc makes me feel like i am LOSING! my mind #watching their scenes in the finale was like feeling every neuron in my brain fire at once #and raine and eda...to quote meredith they're cursed they're divorced they're the love of each others' lives...#anyway i'm a sucker for dealing with the aftermath of possession i'm a sucker for the scene where a character's loved ones find out about #the Bad Things that have been happening i'm a sucker for filling in the gaps that canon didn't have time to. fic be upon ye.#my writing

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arklay · 1 year

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seeing stars.

pairing: diana x albert wesker words: 9.2k warnings: absent parents, canonical child neglect, descriptions of the effects of uninvolved parenting, brief mentions of food [read on ao3] — [part two]

What was she doing?

Diana had found herself sitting outside the front of Wesker’s house, fingers absent-mindedly curling and uncurling around her steering wheel as she chewed on her lip. She could easily back out of his driveway and head to her apartment like she’d intended to, before he could even realise she had been there, but no – instead, she decided to take him up on his offer for dinner at his house.

It was a foolish thing, really, to be as excited as she was to see him again so soon after they had only just run into one another that afternoon. Or perhaps intrigued was a more fitting word for how curious she was to see what it was he wanted.

She had been cleaning up the lab for the day – much earlier than usual as she itched to head out and look over some files she wasn’t supposed to have access to – when Wesker had rung her out of nowhere, asking if she wished to join him that evening. That silver tongue of his was rather annoying, in all honesty, especially considering how thrilled she’d been at the date she had planned with those reports and a nice bottle of wine.

As much as she hated to admit it, she wanted to see him again.

Diana sighed to herself the moment she opened her car door and stepped out into the night air, feeling the cool breeze biting at her skin. As if the shorter days weren’t enough already, the evenings carried this awfully unpleasant chill that had her cursing her decision to wear a skirt; the sheer nylon covering her legs did little to stave off the cool air as icy needles worked their way through the fabric and pricked at her skin.

The mountains in the distance looked quite beautiful though; a blanket of yellows, reds, and the odd green had been draped over the slope facing the city, as if the forest had been set ablaze, almost. She didn’t really want to think about what would happen if that were to ever occur, not only because it reminded her too much of back home, but because she would feel horrible for the adders she so loved to observe.

And she had made quite a few fond memories on the trails – one, in particular, she still thought of too often for the fact that neither she nor Wesker had brought it up again after such an incident had occurred.

Quickly plucking her handbag from the passenger seat, Diana slung it over her shoulder then shut her car door with a bit too much force, as though that would somehow stop the obnoxious fluttering in her stomach caused by such inane thoughts.

It was simply the result of a few drinks, that’s all.

That was quite a fun little tale she liked to tell herself, considering neither of them had even had a buzz on that night.

Who knew the cold, conceited, and terribly callous Albert Wesker could be so… tender with her? It didn’t matter, she would do best to forget that stupid camping trip had ever happened and just move on.

Leaning down, Diana took one more quick glance at herself in the side-view mirror while she worked on locking her car. She couldn’t tell whether the flush across her cheeks was because of the chilling winds or if her mind was to blame, but it pulled a rather dramatic sigh from her, regardless.

With the click of her lock, she pulled her key from the door and shoved her hands into her coat pockets. That was another thing she was chastising herself for; Diana had forgotten her gloves that morning, even after repeatedly telling herself the whole time she had been getting ready to remember to take them. She could even picture right where they were sitting on the top of her dresser.

Honestly, Diana didn’t know why she suddenly felt this overwhelming need to pick apart every little thing she’d done recently, and tell herself off for it at that. It was just that the last thing she had expected to be doing tonight was standing outside of Wesker’s house when she had far more important things to be doing.

Dinner together was… unwise. A waste of time. And yet, here she was.

The short walk to his door felt impossibly long, and she looked around the front of his house, taking in the exterior of it like she’d done countless times before. There were no houseplants present to give it life, the doormat was plain black rubber, and although there was room on his porch for a bistro set, or perhaps a bench, it was simply barren. He was always more concerned with the necessities, but it would do him some good to at least add something out here, even just to make it unique compared to the other, almost identical houses it sat amongst.

Despite its decorations, or lack thereof, his proud little house always brought her some comfort. Diana wasn’t sure why exactly. Perhaps because there was some charm to it – or something of the like. Her apartment was nice enough, although a bit cramped for her tastes, but to have a home in this area would be much more preferable; the affluent suburbs on the eastside of the city housed the elite, where she belonged, not some drab apartment building at the centre of commotion.

She shouldn’t be entertaining such nonsensical thoughts anyhow, not when she was simply on a job. Still, two years in Raccoon City and she was stuck with that little thing in Uptown when she deserved much better.

It was of little concern, really; hopefully she wouldn’t be here much longer and she could return to the house she’d purchased as a treat to herself following her “divorce” – though that notion only made her chest feel tighter as opposed to the reassurance she was trying to garner.

As soon as Diana rang the doorbell, her hand retreated to the safety of her warm coat just as quickly as it had left it. There was this churning in the pit of her stomach, telling her something was off, different, and yet she wasn’t sure why. It was only dinner, but to be seeing him again so soon truly was a bit peculiar to her; they usually only ran into one another a couple of times a week, if that.

She was overthinking things again.

But it was his fault for complicating matters between them a few months back. Or so she chose to believe, unwilling to take responsibility for her share of the blame. Although, he was the one who decided to say that she belonged to him in the middle of one of their recent trysts, that she was his, and she couldn’t quite let that go.

It didn’t take long before the front door opened and she was met with a rather worn out looking man, the very same one who had managed to distract her from her work. Wesker was missing his signature sunglasses and Diana found that rather curious; they were almost like a permanent fixture on his face, only really coming off when they slept together, but their absence was something she wasn’t really used to day-to-day.

She was certainly not complaining though. There was something about those icy blues of his that never failed to lure her in.

“Diana,” Wesker said in greeting, a slight hint of surprise seeping into his otherwise dry tone, “I did not expect you here so soon.”

After his eyes scanned over her once more, he simply stepped aside in the doorway with one of his hands gesturing for her to come in. Despite how flat his voice sounded compared to how he usually was with her of late, Diana chuckled as she brushed past him, withdrawing her hand from her coat again to reach out and slowly trail her fingertips up his arm as she did so. That earned her a barely noticeable shake of his head.

“Oh, please. I thought you valued punctuality,” she teased as she abandoned his arm and brought her hands in front of herself to rub them together instead, revelling in the warmth his home greeted her with. “Or perhaps I just enjoy irritating you, always being too early.”

Wesker scoffed while turning away from her to close the door, no doubt trying to stop any more of that dreaded breeze from coming in, but the smirk pulling on Diana’s lips vanished in an instant. A sudden wave of disappointment washed over her at the lack of any of his usual retort to her teasing.

Quietly sighing to herself, Diana turned her back on him in kind, directing her attention towards whatever that scent was that wafted into the foyer. She couldn’t quite place what he was in the middle of cooking, but there was most definitely garlic butter involved, and it smelt divine.

However, that diversion didn’t occupy her for long, because Wesker’s rich cologne decided to invade her senses instead, shortly followed by the light press of his body against her own. She almost leaned back to feel him closer, to slot into the space made for her, as his hot breath warmed her ear, but she managed to stop herself at the last minute.

“You look lovely tonight, my dear.” His voice was low and almost a purr, reserved for only her to hear, and Diana would have rolled her eyes if not for the pleasant shiver that ran down her spine.

It wasn’t like she’d changed her attire since he’d seen her a few hours ago, when he had dropped in to her lab after speaking to William, when he had handed her one of those awful coffees from the cafeteria, and when he had asked her how her project was progressing – the project she should still be working on at the minute.

And she had a sneaking suspicion the wind had left her with more stray hairs than she would like, leaving her looking far worse off than she had that afternoon. So, she didn’t see much reason for his flattery, even if it did make her heart speed up a little.

Wesker left a fleeting kiss below her ear then reached around and hooked his fingers beneath her coat, prompting Diana to glance back at him. But all he did was gently pull it from her shoulders. She watched him from out of the corner of her eye as he hung it up on the rack by the door, his movements careful and almost calculated, until he turned back towards her, and the warmth of his body returned once more.

He pressed up against her side this time, as opposed to her back, and one of his hands found a home on her waist. The way the arm it belonged to was resting firmly against her as he began leading her towards the kitchen was comforting, secure, yet unmistakably possessive. And she revelled in it.

He had quite a knack for handling her just the way she wanted.

Diana let out a quiet sigh when Wesker stopped them by the dining table and the pressure on the small of her back lessened ever so slightly. She turned in his hold to look up at him, only to find that his eyes were already wandering over her. Those awfully pretty eyes, no longer concealed by his glasses. What she didn’t expect was for him to reach up with his free hand and brush the backs of his fingers across her cheek, and she cursed the flutter that appeared in her stomach at that.

Wesker cradled her chin and merely looked into her eyes for a moment. How blown her pupils were, accompanied by so much warmth, continued to bring forth conflicting feelings for him; he wasn’t sure whether to be unsettled or esteemed by what he could only call adoration on her part. And he was too tired to worry about it tonight.

In an effort to move on from that train of thought, he brushed his thumb over her chin then left a quick peck on her lips. His hand on her back had lingered for a moment too long as he pulled away from her, but he only withdrew to return to his place at the stove, where he’d been busy cooking before she had arrived.

Diana bit down on her lip when she caught the smile that had somehow managed to work its way there while she had been simply watching him. She found that rather pathetic, in all honesty, but he had a way of drawing such treacherous reactions from her.

With a dramatic roll of her eyes and a quiet huff to herself, she shrugged her handbag off of her shoulder and placed it on one of the seats at the dining table. That’s when Diana finally noticed that there were three sets of cutlery laid out on its surface.

She quickly glanced over at Wesker, but he was entirely focused on the pans in front of him, so she could only stare at the rather odd display instead. He hadn’t mentioned anyone else would be joining them when he’d called her, and the absence of wine glasses for once was a bit strange. She would have been annoyed at him for whatever this turn of events was if not for how fascinated she was by it all.

The sound of someone coming down the stairs pulled her from her thoughts soon enough. Soft, uneven steps, as though whoever they belonged to was perhaps skipping down. Another odd occurrence, especially considering the only cars out front were hers and Wesker’s.

The cause of said noise bounded into the open dining area with a hurried glance at the front door then abruptly stopped after catching sight of Diana, hesitating to venture any further in the presence of a stranger.

A little girl.

No more than ten years old, if Diana had to guess. She could have sworn she looked familiar, but from where, she couldn’t quite place. It was right there – the nagging feeling that she knew who this was, sitting at the back of her mind, just out of reach. And it was beyond frustrating.

The girl with big blue eyes that matched her school uniform gave Diana an apprehensive, barely-there smile as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Diana’s staring was no doubt making her uncomfortable, the way her eyes kept darting between her and Wesker was proof of that, but she was too busy trying to piece together who she was to even care.

Suddenly, the girl hurried over to Wesker and latched onto his side furthest from Diana. It was as though she was using him as a protective barrier of sorts, and that was more amusing than it should’ve been. However, the sight that followed next took Diana by surprise.

Wesker placed a hand on the top of her head in greeting, and Diana noticed the way he brushed her fringe aside then carefully tucked one of the many stray blonde strands that had come loose from her pigtails behind her ear. A small smile crossed the girl’s face at that, but she still stayed glued to his side, holding onto his shirt even when he returned to stirring the contents of the pan occupying his attention.

That was weird to Diana; she would’ve expected him to be annoyed by this child hanging off of him while he was in the middle of doing something, but then again, she had no idea who this child was exactly.

For a while, the girl only peeked around Wesker every now and again to look at the tall, frightening woman across the room. This stranger was definitely not who she had expected to see when she had rushed down the stairs at the sound of multiple voices, and it left her feeling somewhat deflated, though much more on edge.

When she tightened her hold on Wesker again, the sound of paper crumpling reminded her of the rolled-up drawing in one of her hands, which she’d completely forgotten about amidst her surprise.

“Oh! Here.” She perked up a little as she freed Wesker’s shirt from her grasp to stand back and unroll the piece of paper, then she proudly presented it to him. “It’s you, mommy and daddy!”

Wesker looked down with a raised brow, and Diana could only watch from afar as he seemed to study the child’s drawing. His head tilted to the side and she could’ve sworn she saw the corners of his lips twitch, even if it was only faint.

“Very good,” he said, tone a touch too dry, but the girl beamed at his praise, regardless. Then Wesker leaned down to whisper in her ear, an elusive hint of mischief laced through his voice, “But why is your father so tall?”

The little girl’s brows knit together in confusion as she stared at him for a moment, then she turned the drawing around in her hands to direct the same gaze to it as well. The way her head tilted to the side was much more dramatic than Wesker’s had been, and she chewed on her bottom lip as she inspected her own art, trying to figure out what he meant.

Looking back up at him after no more than a minute, she giggled then blurted out, “You’re the same height, silly!”

Wesker was almost offended by that little remark, but he only huffed out a quiet chuckle and gave her a quick pat on the shoulder. There was a much more pressing matter he needed to tend to instead of getting defensive over a child’s drawing that was obviously inaccurate.

As soon as he turned around, his eyes locked on to his guest – his beautiful, brilliant guest, who was now leaning against the kitchen wall with a slight smile on her lips and her arms crossed in front of her chest. It was an odd state of affairs, that was for sure, but he supposed he’d have to make do with the change of plans. The least he could do was introduce the two of them, or Sherry would probably want to rush off and eat her dinner in the spare room he’d put together for her a while back.

“Sherry, this is Diana,” Wesker said while gesturing a hand in the latter’s direction.

Ah, the Birkin girl. That makes sense. The fact that she hadn’t put that together sooner made Diana feel like an absolute moron, especially considering she’d seen that family portrait on Annette’s desk countless times before. It was painstakingly obvious to her now though, the resemblance to William clear as day – with the nervous energy to boot.

Sherry only turned to look over at Diana as well, and the hesitation from earlier took hold of her once more as she was reminded that there was someone unfamiliar in the house. When she didn’t say anything, only keeping her eyes trained on Diana – as though tearing her gaze away would have unforeseen consequences – Wesker sighed.

“Where are your manners, darling?” he asked, trying to prompt her to introduce herself, but that only made her chew on her lip while she nervously played with the corners of her drawing. It took another quick glance from him before Sherry shifted on her feet and nodded, more to herself in encouragement than in response to him.

“I’m…” Her voice was faint, barely even a whisper, so she paused and took a moment to swallow the lump in her throat before trying again. “I’m Sherry, nice to meet you.” A timid smile was offered afterwards until her eyes went comically wide and she hurriedly added, “Ma’am!”

Diana didn’t want to laugh at the poor thing; it was obvious she was unsettled by her presence. Unless she truly was just shy. Knowing who her parents were though, Diana wouldn’t be surprised if Sherry was raised to look at everyone she met with suspicion. A good way to be, in her opinion, and not entirely unwarranted in this case.

It was a bit strange, however, that Diana hoped the girl didn’t know that she worked with her parents. In a manner of speaking, that is. She couldn’t care less about the G-Virus, or Umbrella, but the Hunters were a fun little project she was very glad she had gotten her hands on. Annette and William were… okay, but they were always at the lab, even hours after she left most nights. She’d never really thought about the ramifications that would have for their daughter before, that she was probably left on her own quite often and not given nearly enough attention.

And that pissed her off.

Perhaps she shouldn’t play the “wicked witch” tonight – a nickname William liked to call her when he thought she couldn’t hear him. There was no reason to make the girl more anxious than she already was. Uncrossing her arms, Diana crouched down, not moving any closer towards Sherry but simply showing her that she wasn’t a threat.

Sherry looked up at Wesker and he nodded. “She doesn’t bite.”

The way his eyes locked on to Diana’s once the words left his mouth, a glint present in those otherwise tired blues, made her clench her jaw in an effort to stop how her lips wanted to pull upwards. She would’ve punched him in the shoulder for that if she was standing next to him, but instead, she could only send a glare his way.

That was rewarded with the smug smirk she’d grown quite accustomed to over the past year, and by God, did she want to wipe that off of his face.

Infuriating. Absolutely infuriating, he was.

Wesker only tore his eyes from hers to look down at the stove. With a quiet hum, he turned off the burners and spoke in Sherry’s direction again. “Then wash up. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Sherry, unaware of their silent exchange, placed her drawing down on the counter and Wesker glanced at it once more from out of the corner of his eye. It was ridiculous, but that image reminded him of what felt like simpler times – when they had all been much closer; William wasn’t as paranoid back then, though still painfully obsessive, and he wasn’t so… fed up, to put it lightly.

Sighing to himself, he reached up to pull three bowls out of a cabinet, but Sherry was still lingering at his side. It took another small nod of encouragement before she walked closer to where Diana was patiently waiting, the woman’s eerie eyes only wandering over her, but that just made Sherry play with her hands again.

Diana forced out a sweet smile in hopes to ease the girl’s anxiety, trying her best not to scare her anymore than she already had, though she wondered how insincere it must look. Truth is, she was just as uneasy around this child as she was around her.

Then she realised that she hadn’t actually spoken since Sherry had wandered into the kitchen. Not even a word. And that probably wasn’t helping matters much. She had simply been too interested in observing the way Wesker interacted with Sherry that she hadn’t even thought to speak up; it would’ve only disrupted the opportunity she’d been given to see him like this, when she wasn’t sure she’d ever get another chance.

“I’m Diana.” She reluctantly held out her hand as she spoke, trying to subdue any disgust that threatened to seep out onto her features.

Oh, how she wished she was wearing her gloves right about now. Children were such repulsive little things in her eyes, always getting their hands dirty then touching everything they could. The smudging of colours on the side of Sherry’s hand certainly wasn’t doing Diana any favours.

A large grin spread across Sherry’s face and her eyes lit up at finally hearing the imposing figure’s voice. Curiously enough though, she mouthed Diana’s name to herself, like she was sounding it out and noting the slight difference in pronunciation from how both she and Wesker had said it, and Diana was quite surprised the girl had even picked up on that. It wasn’t obvious like a certain other pronunciation – which she despised – but Wesker’s was far more… American.

Sherry reached out and tentatively took hold of Diana’s hand, shaking it softly. All Diana could think of in that moment was how fragile that tiny hand felt in hers, and it was weird. Everything happening tonight was weird. Sherry, on the other hand, seemed much more interested in scanning her face now that she could see her up close.

Realising she was still holding on to Diana’s hand, Sherry quickly let it go and pulled her own away like she’d been burnt all of a sudden. While clasping it with its pair in front of herself, she offered the woman another smile. “You’re really pretty!”

Diana actually let out a genuine little chuckle at that, and she didn’t miss the way Wesker glanced over his shoulder to look at the two of them. “Thank you.”

“Uncle Albert?” Sherry turned her head to look over at him and he only hummed in acknowledgement. “Don’t you think she’s really pretty?”

“She is,” Wesker agreed. His voice was softer than it had been all evening, and that, combined with the slight upturn of his lips, made Diana’s heart jump in her chest.

Perhaps she gazed at him for a moment too long, because Sherry curiously looked back and forth between the two of them with wide eyes. Her lips curled up at the corners then she leaned in closer to Diana, almost as if she wished to tell her a secret.

She made no attempt to lower her voice, however.

“Are you Uncle Albert’s girlfriend?”

And that was why Diana chose not to converse with children if she could help it.

Her eyes flitted over to Wesker again, and he seemed a touch more tense than before, jaw clenched and shoulders practically drawn up to his ears. Although he busied himself with serving up their dishes, his movements were rigid, and Diana didn’t know what to think of that. She did, however, feel rather proud of herself for being able to get a read on him when most couldn’t.

That was unfortunate for Wesker though, because it gave her an idea. A terrible one, but an idea, nonetheless.

Diana hunched down a little lower and rounded her shoulders to mirror Sherry’s stance, prompting the girl to shuffle a slight bit closer as her grin widened. “I’m not quite sure. Perhaps you should ask Uncle Albert that question.”

Sherry turned around swiftly on her heels, facing him with renewed curiosity. Diana shouldn’t have thought the whole ordeal hilarious; she was most certainly not his girlfriend, or perhaps she was blissfully unaware that the situation they had found themselves in definitely made her seem as such, but it was simply fun to push his buttons.

The moment the girl opened her mouth to ask him instead, Wesker cut her off before she could even get a chance. “Why don’t you go wash up?”

The bite to his tone made Sherry freeze on the spot; she was as still as a statue, save for her eyes moving between the two adults to scan over them. Little good that did as she couldn’t quite gauge what was wrong. The air in the room felt much heavier than before, hanging around them like a thick fog. Or more like steam, considering how her cheeks began to burn up from shame.

She had only asked a simple question, she didn’t mean to make him mad.

Sherry nodded, a bit too quickly, then hung her head and hurried out of the room. The sigh that sounded from behind her fell on deaf ears as she was too focused on navigating her way to her room instead of the bathroom, counting her steps as she went.

The moment the girl was out of sight, Diana stood up from her crouched position and took a moment to brush any creases out of her skirt. While readjusting the hem to lay straight right above her knees, her eyes stayed fixed on Wesker – or more accurately, his back, now that he’d turned away from her.

You’re no fun, she thought to herself while her tongue pressed against the side of her cheek for merely a fraction of a second.

She crossed the distance between them to position herself at his side, leaning against the counter on her hip while her eyes wandered over his profile. He wouldn’t even look at her. If she knew he was going to get so sour over a little joke, she wouldn’t have said anything in the first place.

“Are you mad at me?” Diana asked while leaning in closer towards him. The way she spoke was in a far more mocking manner than she should have, the pout in her voice entirely to draw a reaction from him.

Wesker sighed once more then finally looked at her. “No.”

That was all he said before he continued to neatly arrange the dirtied pans and utensils he’d used by the sink, so Diana chose not to push what must be a touchy subject for him any further. He sounded exhausted, and that was the second time that night he hadn’t met her teasing, but at least his tone wasn’t harsh like before. His features had even softened ever so slightly when he’d looked at her – though that didn’t last long once he returned to his task.

Seeing him without his sunglasses like this was really something she wasn’t accustomed to; that made her wonder where they could possibly be if not perched atop that sharp nose of his. Their absence provided her with a sort of confronting view. When they’d fallen into bed, or tangled tongues, or even showered together on occasion, she had never really noticed, but now, outside of the heat of the moment and watching him do something so ordinary, she could see that he was wearing himself thin.

The dark circles under his eyes were quite telling of his position, juggling being Umbrella’s Chief of Security with being thrown into an undercover job that held a title of equal responsibility. Whoever thought that was a brilliant idea was clearly deluded, but Diana knew there was no one else more capable for the role.

It wasn’t her place to pass judgement anyhow. She was technically working three jobs, but it wasn’t really the same. The lines blurred more for her. She only had to send reports back to the company as she did her research within Umbrella, not continue to work in a lab with them as well. And her position at the university was merely a front before she’d head underground and take the cable car to the NEST.

Diana pressed her lips together then looked in the direction Sherry had disappeared off to. That was something she was still immensely curious about.

Tilting her head to the side as she let her gaze fall on him once more, she offered Wesker a subtle smile and brushed her hair back behind her ear. “You don’t seem the type to like children.”

“I don’t,” he admitted, “but she is an exception.”

Wesker said no more than that, clipped and short once again, and not bothering to elaborate any further. But the feeling of eyes boring a hole into the side of his head eventually made him acquiesce with a huff.

“I look after her when her parents are more concerned with their research.”

That harsh bite to his tone was back, and it caught Diana off guard this time. She didn’t realise he held such reservations towards his close friend, though she understood it more than she wished. A child deserves parents who will cherish them – even she could admit that. But she couldn’t tell if the way he spoke was because she had struck a nerve by entertaining Sherry’s questioning, or if the fact that the girl’s parents were so absent in her life actually bothered him. It could have also been that looking after her was taking up his own time when she wasn’t even his responsibility.

Diana reached out and ran her fingertips across his shoulder and towards his jaw. How he held his breath when they travelled up his neck always delighted her, but she only laid her hand flat against the side with her fingers curling around to his nape. After a short moment of her thumb slowly gliding back and forth along his jaw, Wesker leisurely turned his head from where he was still looking down at the sink and met her gaze.

The question in those weary blues drew another smile from Diana, slowly pulling on her lips and near crinkling the corners of her eyes. She lifted her hand and gently hooked her forefinger beneath his chin while pressing her thumb down against it, then she pulled him closer towards herself so she could press a soft kiss to his lips.

It lasted only a second. A brief touch of her lips to his own. But Wesker’s eyes remained closed even once she had withdrawn. His posture was still stiff, muscles pulled taut, and his nostrils flared when he inhaled. The crease between his brows had also deepened due to whatever battle he was fighting up in that head of his, but the last thing Diana wanted tonight was for him to go and believe she was pressuring him into making their “arrangement” more than what it was.

“Relax,” she whispered and he slowly opened his eyes, “I do not care to put a label on whatever this is. I simply enjoy your company.”

Diana was relieved to see the tension in his shoulders and jaw ease up at that, but why the topic was so difficult for him intrigued her. Perhaps his experience with committed relationships was not too dissimilar from her own. Or he truly just wanted something casual with her. Which was fine. And having to confront where they stood with one another was too much of a hassle. She couldn’t agree more.

She let go of his chin to rest her palm on his shoulder. “I only wished to poke fun, but this was… unexpected.”

“It’s fine. It was a joke,” Wesker replied dismissively.

“A joke that made you uncomfortable.” Diana averted her gaze, looking down at her hand instead, where her thumb was brushing along the stitching of his shirt. Then she softly shook her head. “It was in poor taste. We agreed this was… Nevermind. I shouldn’t have overstepped your boundaries like that.”

Wesker’s eyes narrowed as he observed her expression. She didn’t usually apologise for her admittedly endearing behaviour – he gathered that’s what she was trying to do, at least. Besides, if he wasn’t so tightly wound, and hadn’t heard his former partner’s name spoken in passing earlier that week, maybe such a comment wouldn’t have affected him to this extent.

He didn’t need her fretting over something as trivial as this though. It was clearly a slip up on his part, letting a joke like that make him uncomfortable in the first place.

“It’s fine,” Wesker repeated, not as terse as before, yet still more distant than how they had grown to be with one another. “She brought it up and—”

Diana placed her free hand over his clenched fist on the counter; he hadn’t even realised he’d done that. “We don’t need to talk about it.”

That, he was thankful for. She always seemed to know when he wasn’t ready to broach a topic, and she never held that against him. It wasn’t something he was used to; people always liked to pry into his personal matters and press him to open up when he didn’t want to, or when he simply wasn’t ready, but not Diana.

And she could read him so well. William was really the only person besides his sister who could see through him, understand him, and now there was her… Wesker didn’t know what he’d expected asking Diana to join him tonight when he was in a foul mood and she was clearly too busy, but it wasn’t this.

He hadn’t accounted for his whole day to go even further south after lunch either. It was getting harder to think, honestly, and despite being the one to invite her over in the first place, part of him just wanted to go to bed and end the day already.

Wesker reached up and covered the hand still resting on his shoulder with his own, and he gave it a light squeeze. That made warmth bloom from the centre of Diana’s chest, and she didn’t bother suppressing the smile that had managed to sneak its way onto her face. It only deepened when he brought her hand to his lips and pressed a fleeting kiss to the back of it, before he dropped it just as quickly.

He lifted two of the bowls off of the counter and manoeuvred past her towards the dining table, and Diana lightly shook her head, the smile on her lips not wavering in the slightest. Just like that, a moment ended in an instant. So, she picked up the last dish and followed suit, carefully placing it down where she usually sat.

It wasn’t odd for him to do that, especially not of late, when he would give her a peek into how tender he could be before catching himself, but what was unusual to her was how distracted he seemed. Diana had already gathered that he was tired, sure, but the way he glanced down at his watch, prompting a frown to etch into his features, like cracks in porcelain, made her well aware that something was wrong.

With only a curious look cast his way, Wesker revealed his thoughts to her almost instantly. “William was supposed to pick her up over an hour ago.”

Well then… It seemed as though his friend was definitely the cause of his ire. Whether it was because of Sherry’s wellbeing or because he preferred punctuality, it didn’t matter; it was William who had infuriated him, she only twisted the knife. Or so she believed.

“Oh? And here I thought this little dinner with her was all planned,” Diana playfully teased with a soft smirk pulling up the corner of her lips. That was rewarded with a small chuckle from Wesker.

How he had hung his head with a light nod to it as the quiet sound spilled from his lips brought about that revolting flutter in the pit of Diana’s stomach. She hated that feeling, well and truly hated it, yet she took his reaction as a win; all she could hope for was that her presence could ease the worries nagging at his mind tonight, even just a little. An arrogant belief, some might say, but she knew she could offer a bit of humour when she liked someone well enough.

Wesker’s eyes locked on to hers from across the table and it felt as if the world around them had fallen away, like time itself had stopped. For but a moment, it was just the two of them, no one else existed, and neither dared to move.

Things would be so much simpler if she had just kept her resolve a couple of months back and ended whatever this game of theirs was. She wouldn’t have to deal with these ridiculous reactions her body loved to have around him then.

He broke the stillness first, rounding the table to stand at her back, just like he’d done when he had welcomed her inside. Diana steadied herself by holding onto the top of the chair she should’ve just sat down in when they had walked over, but Wesker simply laid a hand on the side of her hip while the other reached up to brush her hair aside. His hot breath warmed her now-exposed neck, and Diana’s breath caught in her throat.

Like always, the press of his lips was so much softer than she had anticipated.

“I’ll be just a minute,” he whispered as he pulled away.

A single chaste kiss, placed right on the junction of her neck and shoulder. Molten sparks danced across every inch of Diana’s skin, and she was glad Wesker didn’t spare her so much as a glance when he walked past her and disappeared up the stairs; she had no doubt her cheeks were flushed pink, and that was embarrassing enough in and of itself.

She slumped down into her chair, rather unceremoniously at that, and let out a heavy sigh. Tonight would have been much better if she had just declined his offer, gone back to her miserable little apartment, and clinked glasses with that annoying robin that liked to sit and peck away at her window every morning.

Yeah, I want to attack my reflection as well, buddy. She’s a right moron.

Diana directed her attention towards the dish in front of her instead, and that didn’t help. Pasta with garlic butter prawns. Or shrimp, as he liked to correct her so often. That explained the mouth-watering scent she’d been enveloped in the moment she had walked in the door – but why did he have to cook one of her favourites tonight, of all nights? He was making it incredibly difficult for her to hate him.

Where was Sherry and her invasive little questions when she needed her?

The girl was taking much too long in washing up, and Diana selfishly wanted her to come back and distract her from the mess of thoughts going on inside her head. There was also the grumbling in her stomach, much more pronounced now that she’d finally got a proper look at what Wesker had cooked.

She didn’t have to wait long; the sound of a door clicking shut followed by two sets of footsteps made her look over towards the stairs. Sherry was skipping down them again, seeming happier than she had been when she’d left the kitchen earlier, and Wesker trailed behind her.

He rubbed at his forehead as he took his time walking down each step. A stark contrast to Sherry, who triumphantly hopped off the last one then dashed over to the dining table to stand at Diana’s side. She turned in her seat to face the girl, who had a large grin stretched across her face, and was immediately met with a drawing being presented to her this time around.

“This is for you!” Sherry proudly announced, holding the drawing out at arm’s length.

Diana felt frozen in place. She didn’t really know what to do in this sort of situation, and it was honestly rather puzzling to her that this little girl was raised – loosely speaking – by parents such as hers. Her cheerful and sweet nature seeped out through the cracks in her timid and distant demeanour, like rays of light shining from beyond the clouds on an overcast day. Why that disturbed her, Diana wasn’t sure. Perhaps because she felt as though this girl’s light may be extinguished given the hand she was dealt, that she would grow up and lose this spark.

Swallowing to rid herself of the horrid feeling sitting at the base of her throat, Diana reached out and carefully took the drawing from Sherry’s hands.

It was cute… That, she couldn’t deny. The image was of herself and Wesker – at least, that’s who she inferred the man with yellow hair and sunglasses was.

Upon further inspection, Diana noticed that the miniature versions of the two of them were holding hands, and that made her lips turn up far too easily. The last thing she would’ve expected a child to pull from her was a genuine smile, and over a drawing, of all things.

Diana looked back up at Sherry, though her fingers still danced over the back of the paper, almost as if she didn’t want to part with it just yet. “Thank you, Sherry.”

“Do you like it?” Sherry bounced on her feet as she spoke, and it hit Diana then.

She was once this little girl… So eager to show off what she was passionate about only for her parents to pay her no mind, to not care, so she would show anyone who took even the slightest interest – anyone who was remotely nice to her.

It damages a child, to have parents who are rarely home, who leave them to their own devices so often, then never show concern for their wellbeing. Her parents were like that: indifferent and absent for long stretches of time. And when they were home, Diana was made to feel like a bother. She hadn’t realised how much that had all affected her until she was in her twenties, when it was too late.

That was something she didn’t think much of anymore. It was easier that way. But for it to crop up tonight, amongst everything else… This visit had truly not panned out the way she had expected.

Diana placed the drawing down on the table and allowed her smile to properly take up residence across her face. It was the least she could do for the little girl. “I do. You are quite the artist.”

Sherry beamed at that before she hurried over to her seat; how her eyes lit up brought Diana a feeling similar to that of when she accomplished something with her work. It wasn’t quite pride, but more gentle and comforting. Fulfilling.

The moment Diana turned back to face Wesker, she was met with his eyes already firmly fixed on her. The unreadable look in them made her narrow her own, trying to prompt some clarification from him, but he only offered her this soft, almost appreciative, smile – as faint as it was.

And she returned the gesture in kind.

Dinner together was uneventful, devoid of their lengthy debates or discussing what had occurred for the both of them since seeing each other last. Diana’s teasing was also completely out of the question due to their little guest, who actually tried to bring up their relationship status out of nowhere once again. That ended in Wesker having to explain to her that not every woman who was in close proximity to him was his girlfriend, and yet Sherry had pressed on.

“But you really like her!”

Diana had tried not to laugh. The last thing she wanted was for Sherry to send him into cardiac arrest over whatever his troubles with relationships were. As harmless an inquiry it was, she understood the weight it could hold.

Wesker, on the other hand, wasn’t so dismissive. He had caught himself almost worrying over this conclusion Sherry had come to – if it actually held weight.

Sure, he enjoyed Diana’s company more than he cared to admit, and he often got too jealous for his own good when others showed an interest in her, but he didn’t consider her his girlfriend. That was such a juvenile term. Had he thought of her as a lover, or partner, from time to time? Unfortunately. But it was quite obvious to him that she preferred their “no strings attached” sort of arrangement.

They did spend an awful lot of time together though.

That didn’t necessarily mean they were together. Absolutely not. She was fascinating is all, and he found her games to be quite fun. Whatever attraction he had to her would fizzle out soon enough, as soon as he got bored – a blatant lie he liked to tell himself, considering how much it had bothered him when he was without her for a month, and the fact that said attraction had been going on for over a year at this point.

They were almost finished with their meals when one of the landlines went off; the shrill ringing made Wesker’s eyes squeeze shut of their own accord, though for merely half a second. He sighed as he stood up to go and answer it, and one of his hands smoothed down Sherry’s hair as he passed by her.

It was late, and the poor girl looked as though she was going to fall asleep right at the table – fork in hand and all. Diana wondered if she had a bedroom in Wesker’s house that she could stay in for the night; she had no doubt Sherry’s parents had stayed at work until dawn on occasion, so surely he had something arranged for her whenever such an incident occurred. At least, she hoped so.

She watched the way Sherry was staring off in the direction Wesker had gone. The side of her hand was resting on the table, fork in a loose grasp between her fingers and merely sitting on the food left in her bowl. Diana slowly reached across the table and gently tapped one of her fingers on the surface beside it a few times to capture her attention.

“Finish up your dinner,” she quietly said, keeping her voice softer for the girl once their eyes had met.

Sherry nodded and looked back down at her food before she began picking at it. The utter dejection in her eyes shouldn’t have made Diana’s heart crack in two. Since when did she care about the feelings of children? The girl’s low spirits could easily be attributed to how tired she was, and what a long day she had been through seeing some strange woman in a space so familiar to her. It certainly wasn’t because of her situation that hit a little too close to home for Diana… That was absurd.

However, Diana did really want to give the girl’s parents an earful the next time she saw them in the lab.

She glanced over to where Sherry had been looking and caught sight of Wesker in the lounge room, pinching the bridge of his nose while he spoke on the phone. She couldn’t make out any of what was being said, he was too far away for that, but he looked even more frustrated than before.

Wesker let out a heavy sigh before he said what was barely even a farewell and hung up. Diana noticed how his jaw clenched for a second, before he shook his head. He made his way back over to the table and Sherry looked up at him expectantly; her eyes were open wide and a hopeful smile was scarcely contained at the corners of her lips.

“Your mother is on her way,” he said, then cocked his head in the direction of the stairs. “Why don’t you go and gather your things?”

Sherry’s brief excitement vanished in an instant then. “Daddy said he’d pick me up.”

The words had barely left her mouth they were so quiet, but Diana could recognise the resignation amongst the hurt. This wasn’t new. It was as if the girl was used to this, like she had accounted for the possibility but had still held onto a small glimmer of hope, and that bothered Diana far too much. She had been trying so hard to convince herself that the situation wasn’t that bad.

“I know, darling.” Wesker placed his hands on her shoulders once she had slipped out of her chair. He slowly rubbed up and down her arms for a moment, in some futile attempt to comfort her, before he guided her towards the stairs. “Go on.”

The two of them watched Sherry drag herself out of the room, making no attempt to properly lift her feet as she walked. It made for a dreadful sight, honestly, one Diana wished she hadn’t seen. She waited until Sherry had gone up the stairs, where she was sure the girl was well out of earshot, then she looked up at Wesker.

“Does this happen often?” she asked, keeping her voice relatively low, yet unaware of how much concern was dripping off of her words.

Wesker sighed for another time that night, and slowly nodded as he sat back down across from her. That was all he offered on the matter, simply settling back in his seat instead, and silence washed over them.

It wasn’t awkward per se, things rarely ever were with them, but the whole mood in the house had shifted once more.

Wesker closed his eyes and tilted his head back, resting it on the top of his chair. Diana couldn’t quite discern whether that was from frustration, exhaustion, or if he was possibly in pain, considering how she noticed him wince at the ringing earlier. Perhaps it was a mix of all three. She couldn’t help but wonder why he had invited her over in the first place, because even if Sherry’s being there hadn’t been planned, his exhaustion seemed to her as the result of a few nights of disturbed sleep, not just one day’s events.

He cleared his throat then looked around the kitchen, his eyes scanning over every surface in sight, as though searching for something. Diana let her own follow the path his took, but nothing seemed out of place to her. The crease between his brows had deepened though, and it almost looked as though he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

When it was clear to him that whatever he was looking for was nowhere to be found, Wesker turned his gaze on Diana instead. “Will you stay tonight?”

Diana’s body almost betrayed her in letting a grin slip out onto her lips and make itself known to him; such a question shouldn’t have pulled that sort of response. Instead, she contained that treacherous smile and only sighed with a slight raise of her brows.

“I hadn’t planned to,” she said with a shrug.

She propped her elbow up on the table’s surface and rested her chin on her palm, leaning forward slightly – closer towards him. They only held eye contact with one another, and Diana couldn’t shake the thought that maybe he was actually in pain, judging by the tension tugging at every one of his muscles.

With that, she gave him a glimpse of her thinly veiled smile then added, “And you’re tired.”

Wesker let out a small laugh as merely an exhale while he nodded in an unhurried manner. That was for the best, he supposed. He wasn’t even sure why he’d asked, really. So, he looked off to the side again and let his eyes scan over the lounge room this time, cursing himself in the process as he tried to retrace the steps he’d taken since that afternoon.

“Do you want me to stay?”

His head snapped to look back at Diana and his eyes were instantly drawn to her own, locking on again for what felt like the hundredth time that night. How gently she had spoken caught Wesker off guard, but the question itself… He chewed on the inside of his cheek then sucked in a sharp breath.

“Yes.”

#writing.#pair: ewskers #oc: diana #aka 'uncle albert why does diana call you babygirl?'#setting: early october 1996. it's also referenced in 'but i would kneel for you' which takes place a few weeks later // name relates more #to the second part which i am around two thirds through rewriting but i'm not sure when that will be done !! hopefully not too long though #cause i made some decent progress on it today !! but it also relates to you know...her *seeing* him...and he's the captain of s.t.a.r.s.#you understand. but yes this is a rewrite of a fic i wrote in march last year. same with the second part !! they were originally two #separate fics but because they happen on the same night i thought i'd just split them into chapters instead !! they are both super special #to me because they cause a sort of shift in their relationship and make diana have a bit of a realisation in the next few days... so i'm #excited to share it when i've made jokes about it before !!! as always rbs and kudos are appreciated but no pressure whatsoever. i know i #have been super inactive and then pop back in with some writing even though i will most likely disappear again but i was posting it to ao3 #anyways and just felt like doing so for me !!

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iknowwhereyousleepatnight · 7 months

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new vision for kinktober: lesbians

#maybe i want to draw lesbians #maybe i love women #maybe i love women and want to draw lesbians #so far i've got uhhhh 3 fully-finished pieces and 2 are L and one is Light and i got a bunch w multiple people that i haven't even inked ye #so so behind #but i have motivation: lesbians #i hope to do some rarepairs #rn i'm doing kiyomisa #i def want to do mikalight #and i'm doing beyondlawlight (is that their name? idk)#remisa is totally happening i just have to remember how to draw rem #def meronia & nearlymellodramattic but i haven't started either yet :/#thinkin about doing terratio too but ryuk is hard to draw #i also wanted to write a fic for one prompt but it's coming too soon and i am slow at writing fiction #i'll write you a whole 5 page essay in one sitting but fiction? pain and suffering. give me half a year #though tbh i have so much shit to do and i've been feeling very lay-in-the-floor-and-make-decisions-that-make-everything-worse atm #so i probably won't get to do all that i've planned #my head just feels so full rn. too full. i just want to go in the sun and dance around and look at cool bugs #but alas it is nighttime and i am feeling too ugh to dance about and there are no cool bugs #my top list of things that make life better are being withheld i am going to resort to going to sleep for 12 hours i think #after drawing lesbians obvi

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sailxrmxrs · 1 year

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hello it is i, your resident fantasy au enjoyer anna reporting in with yet another fantasy fic. giving rory the fantasy au treatment bc the beloved boy deserves the beloved au hehe. filled with some of my favourite tropes too bc i've been reading a lot of books to fuel the brainrot. i am suffering (in a good way). for today's instalment of the fantasy aus, mc and rory are informants working undercover for the queen in search of a rebel faction. very important very exciting. oh and part of the whole undercover thing is they're pretending to be married. everything they do is fake and pretend. no real feelings whatsoever. simply a falsified display as part of their cover story. nothing else at all. lmao kidding they're madly in love but won't admit it. secretly pining but also definitely not pining. only the most delicious brainrot being served here. enjoy. also a note that there's some mild violence/injury towards the end but nothing too wild.

A hum of jovial energy filled the crowded tavern, its dark oak tables crowded with patrons and piled high with empty tankards. There was no shortage of celebration that night, the townsfolk spending their hard-earned coin on whatever ales and meads the tavern staff had to offer. The booming shouts and cheers of the rowdier patrons, along with the thrum of general chatter from the more reserved of tables provided the perfect cover to divulge one's secrets; cautious whispers were nothing in their wake. And who would ever suspect the quiet couple sitting in the corner, nursing their drinks as they intertwined hands across the tabletops. Who could ever assume that those glazed eyes and withdrawn smiles were anything other than the expected behaviour of newlyweds drowning in the other's presence, entirely numb to the world around them. Surely such an unsuspecting pair could never be working undercover for the queen with directives to root out a faction of rebels seeking to overthrow her reign. Yes, as much as you hated to admit it, pretending to be freshly married to your colleague had proved to be the perfect cover story. Where before someone might suspect the lone ranger shrouded in the shadows of their cloak, no one paid a second look to the couple with stars in their eyes nor did they doubt their intentions. If only you had been assigned the task with a more agreeable person.

Rory was not the worst of your potential partners for such a mission. Of the other informants of the castle, Rory was one of the best at his job but his hamartia was his disagreeable personality. He was all stern looks and entirely too serious. For most, there was a time and place to let your guard down or shed the hyper-awareness that being an informant entailed. Not for Rory. Even in the privacy of your company he remained as high strung as ever. Still, despite his hardened exterior you would happily accept Rory over some of the less pleasant options. Especially given the fact he'd proved himself to be exceptional in the role of doting husband. Even tucked away in the corner of the busy tavern, his hand was wrapped in his. He hadn't paused the gentle back-and-forth of his thumb against the back of your hand since arriving. It had taken some getting used to the way his movements synced with yours, mirroring every step with expert ease. Now the tender touches felt almost like second nature. Almost. You were treading a fine line here, precariously walking atop a wire looming over a deep abyssal pit. Getting too comfortable here would only end in the coldest of pains when the job was done and you returned to the castle and continued as normal. There was no doubt that once you'd finished receiving ample information and had reported to your superiors that Rory would go back to acting as he'd always done—as though you didn't exist. It wasn't anything personal. That was just how Rory was. He'd explained one night that he simply didn't care for upholding relationships when his job meant that he was putting his life on the line with every excursion beyond the castle grounds.

While his reasons were understandable, it didn't make Rory's apparent disdain for casual conversation any less vexing. When you'd tried to spend a few minutes savouring the plate of hot food before you, Rory had instead leapt straight into strategy discussions, admonishing you for your lack of concentration. He'd grumbled to himself when you quipped back that you were focusing perfectly fine on monitoring the comes and goings of tavern patrons. Rory quietened on the matter, opting to trust that you weren't letting yourself grow complacent even in the seemingly uneventful night that descended upon the tavern. Nothing seemed out of place nor concerning, though that was no excuse to let your guard down.

"Everything seems clear tonight. Tomorrow we should make our move for the next town over," Rory instructed as his eyes focused on you, a perfectly composed smile on his face—it looked as though it came as naturally to him as breathing.

"Works for me. Although I believe the morning market could be a veritable source of information. We might be able to find a lead or two if we're lucky."

"I suppose replenishing a few supplies couldn't hurt either," Rory replied. He let his gaze flicker to the tavern door every so often, each look only lasting a split second before he returned his attention to you.

Looking over the drained remnants of your tankard, you let out a yawn. "Should we perhaps retire to our room for the night? We'll need to be up and out around sunrise if we want to do one last scope of the area." Rory nodded in agreement, stepping out from the booth and reaching for your hand to help you up. He guided you through the crowd, a protective touch on your waist that tightened whenever someone edged closer. He truly pulled off his role excellently. Almost a little too well. If you didn't know better, you'd be beginning to suspect that this was all practiced behaviour with a loved one back at the castle. Still, wherever he learnt it didn't matter, just the fact that he was convincing enough to everyone around the both of you. By the time you returned to your shared room, sleep was lurking ever closer. So close, in fact, that you barely even registered each beat of movement that led you into the bed, Rory following close behind. Part of the pretence of being married meant being confined to the same room and same bed, though traveling together had left you both desensitised to it all. Still, it didn't make you any less flustered waking up to Rory's nose a hair's breadth away from yours. Luckily he always rose after you, giving you a precious few moments alone to compose yourself. Appearing anything less than composed would no doubt earn a scathing remark from Rory.

Morning arrived in what felt like no time at all, the sun peeking over the rolling hills of the horizon. Sunlight poured over your skin, gently warming it in the morning chill that struck in those early hours. The town streets were mostly quiet save for the early risers setting up their stalls before the bustling marketgoers arrived. Rory was surveying one half of the town while you searched the other for anything out of place or anyone that arose suspicion. So far all seemed to be in order, although there was no telling who might show their faces when the streets were bustling with people, believing that the crowds could hide their nefarious intentions. Upon reuniting with Rory, he shared his own lack of activity outside of the expected. It was then, as Rory detailed the plan for the day, that you recognised a face across the market square. It was undeniably the exact man who'd disappeared from the castle grounds just two weeks ago without a trace save for the correspondences to an unnamed individual sitting in the ashy remnants of his fireplace. Most of it was indecipherable, fire having burned away the words but there had been one singular letter that remained unscathed enough to arouse suspicion. And seeing him in this part of the kingdom only incriminated him further.

"No sudden movements. But I just found us our biggest lead yet," you informed Rory, as he slowly turned his head to follow your line of sight. Recognition settled over his features, alarming concern creasing his forehead.

"If we're recognised we're as good as dead. We find higher ground and keep eyes on him at all times. Wait until there's more people around before tailing him. Crowds make the perfect cover."

"Then we better move and move fast. He's turning this way." Urgency rang in your voice, eyes searching for the most conspicuous way out.

"You trust me?" Rory whispered, offering no other context.

Slightly bewildered by the sudden question, you faltered for a moment before answering. "Well, yes. But I don't see what—" And then Rory's hand was on your waist, the other cradling your chin as he leaned so incredibly close. His breath was warm on your cheek, though that could have easily been your face burning under the close proximity. Then his lips were ghosting over your jaw, the frame of his body concealing your from any onlookers. If anyone spared a glance all they would see was an amorous display between unidentifiable lovers. The seconds dragged like hours, your heart pounding so hard in your chest that you feared Rory might be able to feel it. Of all the pretences you'd put on together, this was by far the most daring. He hadn't gone further than a tight grip on your waist or the press of a kiss to your temple. His lips were barely touching your skin and yet you could feel electricity striking your skin for every moment he lingered. Not to mention the way his hands held you firmly in place. It was all so dizzying you were dangerously close to forgetting exactly what your mission here was.

"Coast clear?" He asked, every whispered word brushing your ear with a delicate softness that almost made you forget who you were.

With a nervous clear of your throat, you managed to look past Rory's shoulder to find your target with his back to you once more. "We're safe."

There was roughly another hour before the marketplace would open to its customers, meaning there was an hour of waiting before you and Rory could set your plan into motion. After the close encounter, the two of you had separated from the other's embrace just enough to move out of the square and into a quiet alley. From there, you'd made your way to the rooftops, using a thick stone chimney to keep hidden from sight. It wasn't difficult to keep an eye on your target, his own movements clearly purposeful so as to blend in with the other market stall owners. Anything that made your job easier was a welcomed turn of events. That was, until Rory decided to strike up conversation, clearly deciding the threat level was low enough to break the deafening silence.

"You've been oddly quiet all morning. What's going on in that head of yours?" The question felt more like an accusation—a weighted statement so as to draw out every thought that swam in your mind.

"Normally you're complaining I talk too much and now I'm too quiet. What do you want from me, Rory?" Your reply sounded less relaxed than you'd intended, residual nerves shaking your voice a fraction.

"You're avoiding the question." He folded his arms, stubborn to a fault as he stared you down. "Ever since we saw... Wait, this isn't because of what I did earlier is it?"

You felt your cheeks begin to heat and could only pray they didn't betray you. "What? No! I'm just focusing. Much like you should be too."

"Don't think I don't know you well enough now to not know when you're lying. I would've told you what I was doing if time was on our side but it was either I act fast or we get ourselves caught. Still, sorry about that."

You blinked, noting the rise of colour that seemed to appear on Rory's cheeks. It was faint, but you could've sworn it was there. "It's fine. You did what anyone should have done in the moment so don't apologise. Just took me a little off guard is all."

Rory relaxed a little, grateful he hadn't crossed a line or backed you into a corner you weren't willing to tread. Then, a rare smile grew as he tested just how far he could push you. "Don't tell me you got nervous. One of our finest informants and fighters in the branch and you got a little nervous over your partner getting too close? Thought you were stronger than that."

"Brave words from a man who was just blushing as he apologised. Really changed your tune there, didn't you? Still, it's of no matter to me. Think whatever you'd like to get yourself through the day."

"What I'm hearing here is that you wouldn't have reacted at all if I'd kissed you?"

You glared back at Rory's testing smile, hating the way your stomach twisted. You knew you had to choose your next words carefully, the thought of being caught lying already bruising your ego. "Who knows. Not like you had the gall to do it anyway."

"Oh? Is that a challenge? Or perhaps an invitation?" Rory edged closer, running a finger along your jawline before taking your chin in his hold and angling your face so that you couldn't avoid meeting his gaze. No words were spoken, just heated stares as though you were waiting for the other to crack first.

"Neither. It's a 'we better move or else we lose our lead'," you uttered, hand moving Rory's face so that he could see your target weaving through the crowd. Rory cursed, leaping up and into action. This was the first time you'd seen him taken by surprise and if you weren't in pursuit of a traitor to the crown, you'd be taking great joy in that fact. Weaving through the side streets, uneven bricks beneath your feet slowing your pursuit, Rory called an instruction from just ahead.

"We split up here. You continue on and I'll take a left down here. We surround him and wait for his contact to show up. Out of sight unless absolutely necessary."

"Sounds like a plan. Don't get yourself caught, beloved husband." Rory did little more than roll his eyes before running off down a side street, leaving you to continue down the cobblestones in the direction of your target. The road led to a series of seemingly abandoned buildings. Infrastructure was beginning to crumble in places, its inhabitants long gone for an undeterminable amount of time. There were no visitors to this side of town—the ideal place to rendezvous with one's conspirators. From the shadows, you had a clear sight of the man you'd been pursuing. He was speaking with someone you did not recognise, their face shrouded in shadow from the hood atop their head. Whoever this person was, they were doing little to conceal their desire to remain anonymous to any onlookers. Curious suspicion grew in the pit of your stomach, aching to edge closer so as to be in earshot but even one step forward could lead to being discovered. Across the way, you caught sight of Rory hiding from his own shadowed vantage point. He was closer to the suspicious characters and, hopefully, able to garner some useful information in the process.

As you crouched in the shadows, attention honed in on your target, you missed the person quietly approaching you from behind until it was far too late. When you heard their footsteps and twisted, dagger in hand, they were already upon you. The hilt of their own dagger collided with your chin, throwing you off your balance and striking the alarm of your targets. Shouts sounded along with heavy footsteps, no doubt your biggest lead making his escape. But that was not your greatest concern right now. What mattered more was finding your footing and fighting off your assailant.

"Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to eavesdrop? Suppose I'll have to be the one to do it then," he threatened, a sinister smile growing as he crept closer. He had the advantage of preparation on his side, but you weren't going to go down that easily. Your opponent was strong but you were quick, able to dodge his heavy handed attacks and strike any opening in his stance. Whoever he was, his grasp of strategy was weak, leaving far too many openings for you to kick and slash. That was, until you went for another opening only for his thick boots to strike your stomach and sending you crashing to the ground, winded from the attack. He loomed over your body, preparing to go for the kill with an arm raised until a throwing knife struck his wrist perfectly. Before you could dwell longer on the matter, you rolled to your feet. Rory was at your side in seconds and matching your stance.

"Took you long enough. Did our culprit run off?"

Rory chuckled, the sound devoid of any genuine humour. "He tried. Didn't get very far. Looks like you didn't do much beside almost get yourself killed."

"I had the situation under control, thank you very much."

"Sure you did. Were you just taking a nap on the ground then?"

You glared at him before lunging to deal with your attacker. You made quick work of him, his movements having slowed greatly thanks to Rory's expert aim. "You know I could just as easily throw this at your face to shut you up."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, beloved."

Once you'd taken care of your attacker and quiet settled over the scene once more, your pulse finally returned to normal. A series of aches ailed you, though none were cause for concern. It was nothing some rest wouldn't fix up. Whenever you had the freedom to rest, that was.

"You okay?" Rory's voice dropped lower as he came to stand in front of you, carefully inspecting you for any serious injuries.

"All good."

He raised an eyebrow, not fully trusting you were being completely honest with him. "This isn't one of those 'I'm going to be stoic and pretend I'm fine and then later I try and tend to my very much not fine injury' moments is it?"

"First of all, mildly offended. You're not entirely wrong, but I'm still mad about it. And second, no this is not one of those moments. Just a little tender in places. I can walk it off." Rory contemplated his next move as his eyes dragged up and down your frame.

"I swear if you even think about carrying me anyway I won't hesitate to cut the first appendage I can reach."

He raised his hands in innocent defeat. "Consider my thoughts blank, no carrying considered. Anymore."

With a roll of your eyes, you made to walk away until Rory's hand grasped your wrist. There was an earnest look in his eyes that you'd never seen from him before. He didn't speak for a moment, glancing at his feet before meeting your gaze once more.

"I'm glad you're okay. You worried me there for a moment." Sincerity laced every word he uttered, so quiet and heartfelt and only for your ears.

"Don't worry, you won't be left partnerless just yet." You tried to lighten the heavy atmosphere that had descended but Rory's expression didn't change. You'd seen him look serious, of course, but this was something else entirely. It was like a layer had been stripped back, shedding the wall he presented to the world and revealing another version of himself. One that allowed his weaknesses to be presented on full display. One that deeply trusted his company so much as to bear his every worry and burden without fear. It struck you to your very core, keeping you rooted in place and barely able to breathe let alone move.

"Good. How could I play the role of doting husband if you got yourself killed?" A gentle smile breached the final crack in his walls and let what remained of that outer shell come crashing down. A hand reached to cup your cheek, every callous and scar that marred his palm decorating the sensation of his gentle touch.

"I'm sure you'd figure out a way. Not that you'll need to just yet."

"Yet? I hope you're not planning for some martyr-like sacrifice. It would be unbecoming of you." Rory brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, smiling to himself as he no doubt felt the way your skin heated with the featherlike touch of his fingertips.

"We'll see." The words were so quiet, barely audible to either of you if not for the pindrop silence that had settled. There was no tearing your eyes away from Rory's, feeling yourself stumbling into the vast green that gazed back. This certainly wasn't the behaviour of two individuals pretending to be married. Not when the nearest person was far beyond the winding streets of the bustling market town. There wasn't a single soul to witness the display, and yet that didn't stop either of you from remaining there, both unable to tear yourselves away. Perhaps that would be the smartest thing to do. Feelings were messy; they got in the way and complicated matters to an incomprehensible degree. But maybe, just once, you could give in to the magnetic pull that reached into your heart and tugged. Just once wouldn't hurt, would it?

Clearing your throat, you tried to pour even an ounce of conviction into your voice. "What's the plan now? Find our man and get some information?"

"You're the boss. But first, there's another, more pressing matter to attend to." Rory didn't bother to offer any verbal clarification when your eyebrows knitted in confusion. Instead, he twined his fingers with yours, pulling you closer until his face was mere centimetres from yours. Every breath and blink felt like an eternity until that painfully small gap finally closed. Rory's lips was soft, tentative as they explored new territory. There was no going back from this but you didn't care. Maybe you should walk away and preserve what little remained of your self-restraint. Maybe you should continue letting yourself believe this was all for the sake of your cover. Or maybe you could enjoy it just a little while longer, believing the lie that every action leading up to this moment had been faked when every part of your soul said otherwise. Though nothing felt more real than this very point in time, Rory's gentle touch the only thing keeping you on the ground.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he whispered as his thumbs brushed the backs of your hands.

You shook your head, knowing there was no way you could even begin to string the tangled mess of emotions into coherent sentences for him. Another fleeting touch of a kiss was all you could offer before breathing in a deep sigh. "Words aren't quite enough to explain it. That, or I'm just a little too distracted to think of them right now."

Rory laughed, a beautiful sound that caressed your ears with each lilting cadence. "I think that's a first for you. Being rendered speechless, I mean. Cute."

You pulled your hands from Rory's and glared, only making him laugh harder. "Make fun all you want. I'm not the one making moves while on the job."

"Isn't that what this whole job has been? Me making moves and pretending I don't enjoy it as much as I do?" To say that was a loaded comment was an understatement. And it was one you could dwell on later under the cover of night where Rory would be none the wiser to your seemingly permanent flustered state of being.

"Ignoring that for now. We have actual work to do. Lead the way before I make you."

"Is that supposed to be a threat? Or a promise?"

#infinite blue #infinite blue x reader #infinite blue fanfic #infinite blue rory #infinite blue rory x reader #yes the fake marriage trope was because of foul lady fortune and the agency for scandal don't look at me like that #if i had a nickel for every book i've read in the last couple weeks with a fake marriage trope i'd have two nickels #which isn't a lot but it probably says a lot about me that it happened twice in a row #don't perceive me okay i am but a weak man who falls at the feet of slow burn romances #and this is my emotional support tumblr where i channel all the brainrot over my books and project it onto other fictional characters #if i can't scream about these books to people i will make them read about it in fic format <3 #anyway i return to my current historical romance cackling maniacally bc the slow burn is starting to heat up goodbye #anna writes

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