#oc: diana
Text
RESIDENT EVIL → THE WESKER FAMILY
To the public, little is known of the families behind some of the world’s most renowned bioterrorists, but the question remains: did they play a role in causing their children to walk down the path that they did? Or are these individuals simply ambitious criminals with delusions of grandeur?
For Diana Wesker (née Afanasyeva), her introduction into the bioweapons black market trade was upon discovering her employers were using her research into limb regeneration with salamanders to further their experiments in creating enhanced soldiers, instead of developing human therapies with which she was recruited for. Although the prospect of using biological weapons in the military did not appeal to her, the concept remained fascinating for her own selfish endeavours. Born on the 27th of October, 1963 in Sydney, Australia to Russian immigrant parents, Diana had harsh expectations placed upon her at a young age, ones that no matter how hard she tried she could never live up to. Her mother, Tatyana, was an unfeeling woman, absent for long stretches of time with little regard to how it affected her daughters, much more concerned with her craft as an accomplished opera singer. Viktor was no better. A strict man whose role as father and ballet master blurred, he pushed his girls to one day follow in his footsteps. Whilst Sofia enjoyed ballet, and went on to become a professional ballet dancer, Diana’s heart was set on going into the field of biology. She wished to make a name for herself, separate from her family – to which she succeeded.
Diana was married to former U.S. Marine, Dave Monroe, for only a year until he was declared dead in 1992 after succumbing to injuries sustained in a horrific car accident. Foul play was ruled out while Diana played the role of the grief-stricken widow, but in reality, she had snapped after years of mistreatment at her husband’s hands, and opted for something she could pass off as an accident to be free of him. For years she believed he was dead – and he was, legally – but that proved to not be the case when he found his way back into her life again in 1999. Unbeknownst to her, she had been lied to by the police and coroner, who were paid off by her employers when they took Dave’s body for themselves and used him as one of their first test subjects in developing supersoldiers. Before he could ever hurt her again, Diana’s second husband, Albert Wesker, tracked the man down, captured him and tortured him, before allowing Diana to get her violent and bloody revenge.
The origins of Albert Wesker’s involvement in bioterrorism, alongside his twin sister, Alex, are much different than that of Diana’s. The two hail from London, Canada, but unfortunately, they hold no memories of their lives there, nor what happened to their biological parents when they were eight years old. Agents of Oswell E. Spencer, an aristocratic billionaire and eugenicist, took the twins from their home and executed their parents as per Spencer’s orders. Albert and Alex were then placed in a home funded by the Spencer Foundation where they were given new names and a privileged upbringing. They had access to the best education possible, free to pursue whichever field they decided, but it was by no accident they both went into virology and bioengineering; at home, their adoptive parents – agents whom they believed to be their real parents – instilled them with the beliefs of Oswell E. Spencer, harbouring disdain for war and pestilence, and believing humans to be an evolutionary dead-end in need of a rebirth. They were only two of the hundreds of children “adopted” as part of what is known as Project W, a plan intended to develop an advanced race of human beings. The most promising candidates were headhunted by Umbrella Pharmaceuticals, the twins amongst them, where they went on to create bioweapons for the company founded by none other than the man who had handpicked them for his plan. The final stage of this was to infect the thirteen Spencer saw fit, however, only two survived; Albert received the intended effects, now possessing superhuman abilities, however, Alex was only offered more time to live due to her terminal degenerative illness.
In the summer of 1995, Diana was working undercover within Umbrella to gather development data on their projects for her company. Here, she had a chance encounter with Albert, an intelligence officer at the time, which permanently altered the course of her life. The two were never seen far from one another’s side, marrying in 1998, and they went on to become notorious in the bioweapons industry. The development of the Uroboros virus was where things took a turn for the worst. Although Diana’s infection was successful and she bore abilities that rivalled her husband’s, the plan itself did not succeed as they had hoped, and almost cost Albert his life at the hands of his former subordinates.
Now, they work within the shadows, with Diana declared missing and Albert believed to be dead. Their legacy, however, lives on with the mark they left on the world. As visionaries in their field, they influenced bioterror attacks carried out by countless individuals and organisations. In turn, they also inspired others to fight against such atrocities. One such person happens to be Albert’s son from a former relationship, Jake Müller, whose existence he was unaware of.
#mine.#oc: diana#pair: ewskers#click for better quality cause it's large & tumblr ate it ♡#hii so happy birthday diana !! queen is 60 today :]#um. there's no template cause i made this from scratch...i couldn't find any i was vibing with so i was like you know what lmaoo#i'm sorry for the essay...it was meant to be just a short rundown of the family but well...that happened. typical leah fashion...#oh and guys. did you know that there's a limit to the amount you can put in one blockquote? that's why the rest is just left like that caus#i didn't like how it looked with a blockquote each paragraph...cause the spaces between were unever. you understand 😔#with the tree i was also going to include weskids adoptive parents but i couldn't figure out how to arrange it all & make it look nice !!#cause i also wanted to have spencer in there as well cause he's a big reason why the weskids are the way they are...was maybe gonna include#sherry as well. like connected to jake (hehe) and then do her parents too but that would've made things so wide & it's already big enough#yes. i hc that albert & alex are biological twins. just for clarification there :] i don't think i added anything else that isn't canon or#implied with canon. cause the weskids were put in homes (or at least whatever ''controlled environments'' means) where they were monitored#by umbrella but were unaware of it. so yeah. i don't think i really changed much there !!#honestly i could've kept rambling cause there's alex's whole situation. there's my lore with jake's mum. there's way more with the ewskers#but it's already so long & i can't be concise so there's that lmaoo oh also diana's grandma. so much stuff#also meant to say the weskids birthday in that ramble. it's january 15 1960 :] they are capricorn sun leo moons but alex was born earlier s#their rising signs are albert is a scorpio rising & alex is a libra rising !!#had to redo the image cause typo on diana's birth year for some reason lmao so if that messed up the formatting i will sob
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
Here's the full sketch, a little bit of a threatening & overprotective bh because I like the idea a lot 😗
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
Doodle Break week of 1/22/24
#doodle break#yogscast#xephna#xephos#lalna#oc: diana#something something if Lalna is Han Solo then Xephos is Luke and Honeydew is Chewbacca
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Damage Gets Done - SAS Rogue Heroes x OC - Chapter 8
Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 |-| Chapter 9 | Chapter 10
Summary: Tension runs high as the SAS carries out a potentially disastrous raid on Benghazi
Relationships: L Detachment x Platonic!OC, eventual Reg Seekings x OC
Warnings: Language, descriptions of graphic violence, implied death, Randolph Churchill
Word Count: 4.3k
Tags: @20th-centu-fairy-girl @trenchenjoyer @dcyllom @footprintsinthesxnd
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Diana crouched down to eye level with the jeep's side mirror, squinting against the sun that reflected in the glass behind her as she did her best to tuck every last curl safely away beneath the headscarf she had shrouded herself in. Their raid on Benghazi was fast approaching, and it had been decided amongst the group that the easiest way to smuggle her into the city would be to dress her like a regular civilian, rather than attempt to explain away her military garb.
Once she had finished the task, pinning back one last curl that simply would not stay put on its own, she had moved to stand, but the sight of her own reflection gave her pause. It was rare that Diana remembered much of anything of her mother, but some days she looked so remarkably like her that it seemed to draw long-buried memories back to the surface. She had those same dark eyes, the same curve of the lips and point of the nose. She could almost half-remember sitting in her mother's lap as she put on her hijab each morning, the calming tones of her singing keeping the child from getting in the way. When she was herself, the similarities were hardly noticeable. But now that she dressed like her mother too, those brief, hard years were becoming visible again in the back of her mind, as if watching on through a veil.
"Hey," Jim Almond's voice rang out behind her. Springing upwards to resume her regular posture, she glanced at him with a welcoming smile. "You alright?"
"Yeah," Diana nodded assuringly. "Yeah, I just... I look like my mother." She grinned at the confession, and he couldn't help but return the smile. Jim squeezed her shoulder affectionately, and their heads both turned as Stirling's voice came from over by the well where he stood with Randolph Churchill. Since the Prime Minister's son had arrived, she had managed to avoid speaking to the man, but it appeared Stirling was not going to make it easy on her.
"You've been summoned, milady," Almonds teased, and she slugged him gently in the shoulder, kicking up sand as she marched over.
"Oi," Diana greeted, tipping an imaginary hat to Stirling as she rested a hip against the side of the well.
"Diana, it seems you haven't yet been introduced to Mr Randolph Churchill, here," David spoke. His tone was jovial, friendly, but she could tell he was teasing her, and sent him a sideways look as Churchill reached for her hand, pressing dry lips against the back of her palm. She did not attempt to disguise her grimace, especially as she heard Pat and Johnny chuckling at her discomfort from back by the truck.
"A pleasure," He greeted, maintaining his attempt at a charming smile even as he noticed her wiping the back of her hand against her trousers.
"Winston's boy, eh?"
"... The Prime Minister. Yes."
She shrugged. "Not my Prime Minister."
Randolph let out something between a huff and a laugh. "Oh, you didn't vote Labour, did you?"
Diana's brow raised as she lit one of the cigarettes in her pocket. "I'm Egyptian, Randy."
"Right, yes... Of course... You're a rather striking young lady, you know."
Stirling almost choked on the dirty water he had pulled from the well as he tried not to laugh, and she stomped hard on his foot, digging in her heel. "Yes. I do know. Is that all?" When neither of the men spoke, she nodded firmly, patting Stirling on the shoulder. "Wonderful exercise, thanks David."
Pat was still laughing at her as she returned to the others, his enjoyment only enhanced as she flipped him off, propping herself against the back of the lorry with her elbows.
"He liked you," Cooper teased, a boyish grin overtaking his expression as he jammed a fresh cartridge of bullets into his gun. Beside him, Reg didn't say a word, his brow furrowed, expression thunderous, the only sound coming from him the occasional indecipherable grumble.
"Fuck off," She sang, holding her cigarette between her teeth as she sifted through the bullets they had brought to fill the small pistol she had been given to conceal on her person. To go with her civilian costume, Sadler had acquired her own car - a creaky, unassuming thing with a bad paint job, but an almost brand-new engine that could get her out of a tight spot should the need arise. It was risky, to enter Benghazi alone, to separate herself from the rest of the group, but once inside the walls she would find them again, and finally receive a gun that was worth a damn.
Seekings had scarcely looked away from his weapons since the moment of her approach, checking and re-checking every gun and knife he had on his person as a permanent scowl etched his face. His hat was resting in the truck bed beside Diana, and she noticed, seizing it by the visor and planting it firmly onto his head, forcefully capturing his attention. A smile curled the corner of her lips, and he couldn't help but do the same, finally able to take in her new appearance up close. He missed her hair - the only part of her wild enough to reflect the spirit inside. She looked wrong without it, every inch hidden from the world.
"Chin up, soldier," She teased. Reg hated this plan. He hated it more than he'd ever hated any of Stirling's batshit insane ideas before.
They were putting Diana in danger. More danger than they ever had before. She would take her own car into Benghazi, alone, with nothing but a tiny pistol to protect herself and a cache of explosives hidden under her seat. They were relying on nothing but her pretty face and Arabic tongue to get her into a building none of the others would dare try to breach for fear of a bullet to the skull. And worst of all, she didn't seem to care.
"You're good on the plan?" He prodded.
Diana let out a chuckle at his uncharacteristic concern. "All good."
There was no certainty they'd all see each other again after tonight. And one question plagued Reg - one question he ached to know the answer to yet could never bring himself to ask. Did she remember that night in Stirling's flat? The night she had spent sitting on the hardwood floor in that wonderful dress, the night she had kissed his bruised knuckles and smiled at him and made him feel all kinds of confusing things. If only she cared as much for herself as he did.
In order to avoid any suspicion, Diana was ordered to pass the checkpoint into the port city an hour before the others - a measure taken to dispel any possible assumption that they may be arriving together, but an altogether risky move. If the others were intercepted at the border, she would be in Benghazi alone, forced to carry out her objective and escape without any backup whatsoever. In the Great War, General Hannigan had made his reputation through acts of reckless daring, and it seemed he had passed this lack of regard for self-preservation onto his daughter. A quiet fell over the small group as the time came for her departure, a duffel bag of explosives hidden in a compartment Sadler had hollowed out beneath her seat. Diana seemed unphased, quickly affirming their rendezvous point with Stirling, but the others watched on in grim silence, hesitant to even wish her good luck for fear of jinxing their fortunes. They all knew there was a chance that this could be the last time they were all together. It wasn't an impossibility. They'd lost Eoin. They'd lost Jock.
Tonight had the opportunity to ruin everything.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The desert road unfurled itself before her, the wheels of the car kicking up sand as Diana streaked across the landscape, radio tuned to a local station as she sang off-key to an Arabic cover of a Billie Holiday song, occasionally interrupted by static from the terrible reception all the way out here.
It was not until the checkpoint came into view that she realised she was driving altogether much too fast, and the breaks let out a terrible shriek as Diana attempted to slow down, jostling the wooden barrier with the bonnet as she rolled to a clumsy stop. Now she remembered why Stirling had initially appeared so horrified at the prospect of letting her drive herself.
One of the soldiers marched up to her window, knocking harshly on the glass until she rolled it down to let him speak. He scolded her in a flurry of Italian that she only partially understood, and Diana attempted to thrust her forged papers at him, matching the man's irritated tone in her own rambling Arabic, spouting meaningless nonsense whenever she ran out of things to say once she as confident he didn't understand a word.
The soldier examined her papers, occasionally asking her questions as he peered closely at the writing. Diana could only decipher a few words here and there - certainly not enough to gauge the soldier's meaning - and so she continued her meaningless tirade in the hopes of moving things on.
"I really like this song!" She declared, brow furrowed, tone angered as she pointed sharply at the radio, the soldier's expression growing more confused by the minute as he attempted to decipher what the frustrated woman was yelling at him. "It's very good! But I'd like to get moving, I'm very hungry!"
"Cosa?" The soldier asked, still clutching her papers.
Diana resisted the urge to roll her eyes, reaching out and tearing the document from his grip. "Is this really the best your lot could do? Fucking embarrassing really." His mouth hung open, gaping as he found himself helpless to decipher a word of her ranting. With a pointed gesture towards the barrier, she finally seemed to get through to the man, who hurriedly ordered for her to be let through.
Nodding to the soldier in mock appreciation, Diana cranked the radio back up to full volume as she passed, resuming her sing-along as she trundled towards Benghazi, taking extra care to regulate her usually reckless driving as she entered the pedestrian-littered streets. It wasn't entirely unheard of to see a woman like her driving alone here, but just unusual enough to ensure that, whenever she slowed down or stopped for traffic, she would hear a wolf whistle or jeer from some passer-by. It was nothing Diana hadn't heard before, but still, her grip on the steering wheel tightened with agitation each time.
Benghazi was littered with administrative buildings and headquarters for the Nazi and Italian forces, with guards at every entrance. This was not a problem. Diana didn't need an entrance. One of the key Italian admin buildings had a side wall facing a nearby alleyway, used almost exclusively by street vendors and tourists, when there were any. But there was not a guard in sight, for the wall had no doorways or windows that could be used for infiltration. Engine rumbling to a stop, she yanked the gearstick, pulling in to park along the side of the alleyway. Rummaging below her seat, Diana retrieved the explosives she had been given, concealing them in a small compartment she had sewn into the bottom of her handbag, hidden beneath all manner of day-to-day belongings.
The only explosive she left behind was a primed Lewes bomb, prying open a loose seam in the driver's seat cushion with her fingernails and burrowing it deep inside among the stuffing. Worst case scenario, the car would be removed by guards hoping to keep the perimeter clear, and provide a helpful distraction come nightfall.
Best case scenario, this explosion would rip a hole straight through the building, killing dozens.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The moment their truck pulled to a stop, Reg was on the lookout, his gaze scouring their surroundings for any sign of Diana among the sparse, moving crowds of civilians.
"Hey," Almonds hushed voice reached out to him as they clambered out of the truck bed. "She's not coming. Stirling told her not to be seen with us until it's time to go." Reg almost questioned this - questioned why, of all things, Jim knew he was searching for Diana. But it struck him as best not to ask, best not to come face to face with his own weakness that apparently everyone could see. This wasn't the time for it.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Diana had spent her afternoon in a nearby cafe, sipping on herbal tea to calm the beating of her nervous heart as she waited for nightfall, pretending to read a book as she watched the soldiers walking around in her peripherals. Anyone who had paid enough attention would have noticed that she hadn't turned the page in almost half an hour, but there were hundreds of women in Benghazi who looked just like her. She was utterly unremarkable, utterly unworthy of notice. The disguise was working wonders.
But darkness was falling. And the longer she stayed, the more suspicious her presence would become. Ensuring her headscarf was still on properly, Diana departed, shoving her book back in her bag as it covered the concealed explosives within. She prayed the carefulness with which she handled the bag had not been too obvious as she made her departure, slipping away down a nearby side street.
The car was still there. She made a mental note as she passed, tossing a crumbled paper bag containing a Lewes bomb into a nearby trashcan, one of many lining the back wall of another administrative building. Laying individual charges was never going to do a significant amount of damage, but it would certainly provide ample distraction. If the guards were too busy chasing after exploding bins and cars, they would miss the real targets.
She wanted a cigarette, but frankly, the idea of smoking one so close to a bag full of bombs made her nervous. Diana was just about to throw out her matchbook as a precaution when a lone guard turned the corner towards her, rifle slung lazily over his shoulder, gaze pinned on her from the moment he entered the space.
"What are you doing?" He called, eyeing the matches in her hand with suspicion. His Italian accent was heavy, but his English wasn't half bad. He thought she was a local - that was good, he was searching for some in-between dialect to bridge the language barrier between himself and the Libyans.
"Smoke break," Diana replied simply, trying to maintain the accent of her mother tongue even as she spoke her second language. It was difficult - she had been taught Arabic by Egyptians and English by the Brits, it was not a line she was used to blurring.
The guard flicked his wrist, beckoning her closer as he reached into his breast pocket for a proper lighter. As she plucked a cigarette from the battered box in her bag, he held the flame up to her, just far away enough that she had to lean in towards his chest, dipping her chin to meet it. She could feel his eyes on her, tracing every inch of her face and quickly travelling downwards. His hand reached up, knuckle brushing lightly against her cheek. Diana felt the urge to recoil, nausea dredging up the pitifully sparse contents of her stomach. Instead, she pulled herself back up to full height, a pleasant smile curling her lips as she took a puff of smoke.
"Pretty girl like you shouldn't be out here alone," The guard tutted, a glint of lust in his eye that made her want to vomit straight onto his boots. "Anything could happen."
She let out an easy laugh, shaking her head slightly. "Well, then it's a good thing I have your gun, isn't it?"
He paused for a moment, head tilting to the side as he squinted in confusion. "...What?"
Diana's hand shot out at his face, not even pausing to drop the cigarette, its burning butt scorching the flesh of the soldier's cheek as her fingernails met his eyes, scratching painfully at his corneas. Before the man could scream, her free hand, balled into a tight fist, punched him sharply in the windpipe, and the guard choked for breath, staggering backwards as blood began to run down his face from where her nails had taken chunks out of his eyelids.
Blinded and winded, he groped for his rifle, but Diana seized it in an instant, a kick to the stomach sending him toppling backwards onto the ground. If she had shot him, she would've drawn half the guards in the port. Besides, this was more fun.
"Fascist fuck," She muttered, tearing off her headscarf, curls erupting outwards like a lion's mane as she balled up the fabric, stuffing it down into the guard's mouth so he couldn't speak. With the pocket knife tucked in her boot, she sliced off one of the straps on her bag, using the long strip of fabric to bind the man's hands behind his back. The guard whimpered helplessly, sounds muffled by the fabric that he found himself unable to spit out as his feet lashed out, kicking wildly but never landing a blow, his vision still blurred and useless in the dark.
Diana manoeuvred the thrashing, whining man into a nearby alcove, propping him up against the backdoor of a local restaurant. Delivering a swift, sharp blow to the head, the guard fell unconscious, and she was free to leave his limp body for someone else to find once she was long gone.
But now there was a problem. Her disguise was ruined - her headscarf gone, bag noticeably torn, blood staining her fingernails. A wad of spit was enough to clean most of the visible dirt from her hands, and she realised she had little choice but to get rid of her bag. Carefully retracing her steps back towards the car she had abandoned, Diana tossed the entire cache of explosives into the trunk and made a run for it. Perhaps multiple distractions were off the table for tonight, but this distraction was certainly about to be a big one.
Tousling her hair and undoing the top few buttons of her shirt, exposing a sideways view of her cleavage, she felt satisfied with her new disguise. If she couldn't pass as someone's dutiful housewife, she could at least do her best to blend in with the local prostitutes.
God this was humiliating.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Reg and the others were waiting impatiently behind a nearby car, anxiously watching Stirling and Churchill approach as soldiers swarmed their truck, which had - until now - been their only means of escape. David approached the group, strolling casually so as not to betray his agitation, although his brow began to furrow as he surveyed the group.
"Where's Diana?" He whispered, leaning in close. Reg thought he might vomit.
"She's supposed to be here?" Riley hissed. One by one, their expressions began to fall with concern.
"I told her to meet us at the rendezvous, she's supposed to-" Stirling had gone from a state of panic to one of confusion, trailing off as his gaze locked itself upon something behind the others. Reg turned to follow his eye, brow raising as he spotted Diana across the street, purposely avoiding meeting their gaze as she strolled through the crowded space. But something had changed since that morning - she looked different. She looked good.
There was no time to express relief, no time to calm the thumping of his heart as Stirling ushered the group out from their rendezvous spot, marching across the street. They were making it up as they went along now - the most dangerous way to be. But she didn't follow, simply stood in a nearby doorway, leant casually against the wall.
"Seekings, go over and pretend to chat her up," Stirling ordered under his breath. Reg suddenly realised what was going on. "Get her over here with us, now."
Seekings slipped away from the group, taking extra care to look at ease, confident, not like he was following orders. His eyes met Diana's, and he stepped up onto the doorstep beside her, the pair standing close. "...You look different," He pointed out.
"It's been an... eventful afternoon," She explained. As she spoke, she maintained an easy, flirtatious smile, ensuring that anyone passing by would still believe she was a prostitute trying to chat up a client, despite the words being exchanged. Reg felt the blood rushing to his cheeks, turning his face redder by the second.
"We've gotta go," He said, and she nodded, following alongside him as they moved to rejoin the others. He felt her gently nudge his side, and slug his arm casually over her shoulder. They would have to keep up this pretence until the very last minute, until they were somewhere free from any prying eyes. But Reg couldn't even pretend to dislike the position he now found himself in, her body slotted against his in a way that just felt right, her shoulder somehow comfortable as it dug into his side. Her hair blew gently with each exhale he took, and he was almost too distracted to pay attention to the others, watching her instead of the guards Johnny was attempting to negotiate their way past. Reg couldn't even understand Italian - in his mind, this was a much better use of his time.
It seemed Diana had realised this distraction, for a sharp poke to the ribs alerted Reg that they were moving again, sauntering past the men after whatever ruse Cooper had concocted had worked. "Start paying attention," She muttered, beginning to smirk.
But there had been no time to formulate a retort before an earth-shattering explosion rocked the ground beneath their feet, a great ball of fire turning the sky red as a building burst into flames a few streets over. It was bigger than the blast from any single Lewes bomb, and Reg raised a brow, looking down at Diana who had begun to cringe slightly. Stirling turned to stare pointedly at her.
"I had to improvise," She shrugged, and Reg almost laughed before his own charges exploded somewhere behind them, and the group broke out into a sprint, making a wild dash for the nearest side road that could potentially promise a means of escape.
The first explosion had been so huge that almost every guard in the port had began running towards it, and once the other bombs went off as well, the place was plunged into chaos, no one sure of which crises they should tend to first.
"Where's your gun?" Stirling hissed as she ran alongside him.
"Like I said, change of plan," Diana huffed, catching a pistol as he tossed it over to her, the group crouching around the corner of a nearby building to evade the scattered guard force.
"Well, y'know," Almonds shrugged. "At least the bombs worked."
She let out a breathless laugh, but no sooner had she stopped running was she compelled to start again, dashing towards a jeep Reg had managed to commandeer.
"You got it?" Diana asked, a grin spreading across her face as he touched two wires together and the engine burst to life, rumbling steadily as they dogpiled hurriedly inside. They trundled away at a regular pace, so as not to draw attention, but it may as well have been a hundred miles an hour for how quickly her heart beat inside her ribcage, chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath, feeling as if it were the first full breath she had taken since the moment she had first arrived in Benghazi.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Stirling's car ahead had burst through the checkpoint they had passed that morning in a flurry of bullets, picking up speed, the jeeps going faster and faster by the second until they were streaking across the desert. Johnny had been standing atop the back of David's jeep, mowing down the nazis with his machine gun as they passed. As they passed back into safe territory, he turned back to face the second car, grinning elatedly, and Diana replied with a whoop, laughing at their success. She had not quite realised how scared she had been to die tonight until the relief of surviving had settled in, and now she was euphoric, the desert wind whipping her hair wildly in all directions.
Reg had the wheel, unable to tear his eyes from the road for how fast they were travelling, but he began to grin as Riley started singing a raucous drinking song, Diana and Jim joining along by the second verse. Almonds had taken off his hat, jokingly attempting to plant it on her head, but she let out a yelp as the wind caught its brim, tearing it clean off as the hat vanished into the night. They laughed at this too, everything suddenly hilarious as they were consumed by the joy of victory. The jeep's side mirror had been jostled in their hurried attempt to climb in, and rather than reflecting the road behind, Reg could see her - smile visible even in the darkness, both hands trying in vain to hold down her hair against the desert wind.
It may have been the greatest night of his life.
#sas rogue heroes#sas rogue heroes oc#sas rogue heroes fic#sas: rogue heroes#reg seekings#david stirling#pat riley#johnny cooper#jim almonds#oc: diana
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
🌕Diana | Moon Elf | Sage | Circle of the Moon Druid | Archdruid of the Silver Grove🌕
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
redrew my fav oc art ever :D!!!!
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
the twins (dina and christopher), their mom (diana), stepdad (max), dad (john) and future stepdad (caleb).
#the twins are 17 here#they also have three younger half siblings#i made most of them back in like april but they all got a makeover#diana's hair may not be final#i kinda want it to be wavy#we'll see#ts4#the sims 4#sims 4#my screenshots#oc: dina#oc: chris#oc: diana#oc: max#oc: john#oc: caleb
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Other stuff I drew today. sniffle
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
⁕ Happy (belated) Birthday...
↬ DIANA !
ᓚᘏᗢ January 29th ᓚᘏᗢ
Cute little raven/blackbird lady. So yeah, my idea for this moodboard was major softie vibes with a hint of flowers, nature, animals... Very soft.
Taglist: @starcrossedjedis @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene - let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
In which Crash’s family is on social media
5 notes
·
View notes
Photo
i recently had the opportunity to commission the amazing @666chevy on twitter for a spread of diana (and wesker, of course) !! this came out perfect and i haven’t stopped staring at it since ♡ chevy is so kind and easy to work with, and he did diana so much justice, so i just cannot recommend him enough if you’d like to get a commission done !
#commissions.#oc: diana#pair: ewskers#i just can't get over this it's so beautiful and chevy captured diana's vibes so well !! she just looks amazing and i'm holding this so#gently in my hands like augh this is so precious to me !!! honestly best birthday ever to get surprise art from my beloved bestie and then#to receive this comm a couple days later !! thank you again so so much chevy if you see this cause i'm not sure how active you are on here#but i am still so in awe by this and the different lighting/filter options you sent as well like just thank you so much !! 💖💖#please go support him if you're able guys like even just check out their other artworks !!! they're all so amazing and i was instantly blown#away by his art style and was like omg i need to commission...i need to !!! i'm just so in love with diana's vibes in this !! truly got the#unsettling and arrogant but also hi hello ma'am one chance please vibes across so so well like augh she looks so beautiful !!!
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
international asexuality day was a while back but i never posted this picture of my three main ace girlies here so y'all are getting it now ♥
#ts4#sims 4#the sims 4#sims#simblr#my sims#rose legacy extra#breeze nsb legacy extra#oc: diana#valentine breeze#oc: bianca
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
doodle break week of 09/18/23
#doodle break#yogscast#xephos#oc: diana#oc: floyd#traditional sketch#traditional art#artists on tumblr
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
Damage Gets Done - SAS: Rogue Heroes x OC - Chapter 9
Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 |-| Chapter 10
Summary: As the group returns from the raid on Benghazi, Diana is forced to confront the secrets she's kept from Paddy
Relationships: L Detachment x Platonic!OC, eventual Reg Seekings x OC
Warnings: Language, mentions of death, angst
Word Count: 2.5k
Tags: @20th-centu-fairy-girl @trenchenjoyer @dcyllom @footprintsinthesxnd @regseekings
A/N: Sorry this one's a little shorter than usual! I was originally going to include this part at the end of the previous chapter, but it got too long so I decided to separate them. Enjoy!
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Exhaustion tugged at Diana's eyelids as the jeeps rolled into their rendezvous point, the familiar figure of Mike Sadler lounging tiredly beneath a makeshift shelter, shielding his eyes from the sun as he watched them approach. She was jolted sharply awake by the sudden ceasing of the engine's constant hum, a noise she had grown accustomed to over the past few hours, and hurried to re-button her shirt, her makeshift camouflage now nothing more than a frankly embarrassing memory.
But Mike was not the only figure awaiting their arrival. Over by the car stood a woman, dressed sharply with a pair of designer sunglasses to shield herself from the glaring light. Diana suddenly recalled her first day in the SAS camp - had she truly looked as out of place then as this woman did now? The idea almost embarrassed her. But the woman's presence immediately raised a million questions in her mind - questions none of the gawking men around her seemed to share.
Men. Pathetic.
"There's a rumour going around in Cairo that Winston Churchill's son went on a mission behind enemy lines with the SAS," The woman spoke, fanning herself with the brim of her hat as she approached. Scanning Stirling's face, Diana could tell he recognised her. Actually, the more she looked, she wasn't entirely sure she didn't recognise the woman.
On her right, Reg let out a low whistle, staring unashamedly at their new visitor. Diana raised a brow, shooting him a disapproving look, which he didn't seem to notice. That stung. That stung far more than she had expected, and that was... concerning. She wasn't supposed to give a shit when fucking Reg Seekings of all people looked at another woman like that.
But he'd looked at her like that. And maybe she'd been stupid enough to think she was the only one who got that look. Maybe she even cared that she wasn't.
And the more she stood there, the more she was sure she had seen this woman before. "Sorry-" Diana interjected, suddenly realising the others had been halfway through a conversation when the entire group's gazes fell upon her. "Have you been in my house?"
"I have," She nodded, a slight smile curling her lip. "I've spoken with your father on a few occasions - he's one of the only senior officers I can count on to stay in one place."
Diana smiled, nodding. That was her father alright - a nester if ever she'd seen one. He'd lived in Cairo all her life, but she wasn't confident he could navigate beyond the end of their street. The woman held out her hand, and she received in, introducing themselves in turn. She could feel Churchill's gaze boring into the back of her skull, and could tell he was irritated at his meeting with yet another good-looking woman being interrupted.
As her hand was released, she sidestepped towards the Prime Minister's son. "Chin up, Randy. 0 for 2 isn't too bad when we're both out of your league," Diana spoke with a tone of mock sympathy. "I'm sure there'll be a whole fleet of boring little posh-o's with a history of inbreeding in the family for you to choose from once you get home."
He looked nothing short of horrified, face turning bright red, visible even under the layer of sunburn. She let out a snort, patting him on the shoulder and turning away. Making the man squirm was one of the small joys in life, and Diana cherished her chances.
But when she turned, the sight before her almost stopped her in her tracks. Reg had since discarded his shirt, arms raised in a not-so-subtle attempt to show off his muscular build as he continued to stare blatantly at Eve, giving Diana not so much as a second glance. Before her mind had quite had time to register whether her actions were altogether reasonable, she had reached down, grateful for the loose laces on her boot as she tugged it off. Standing awkwardly on one foot so as not to fill her sock with sand, she took a swing and lobbed the shoe straight at Seekings, striking him in the side.
It had not been a hard throw, but enough to elicit a yelp from the man, who stared back at her with an expression of equal parts outrage and confusion.
"What the fuck-?"
"Put your fucking shirt back on," Diana frowned. "Making us look bad, ya creep."
"Fucking Christ," Reg muttered, rummaging for a replacement shirt as he eyed her remaining boot with unease.
"And give me my shoe back," She demanded, leg raised like some kind of enraged flamingo. Seeking chuckled, shaking his head in a wordless reply, holding her boot by the laces as he began to walk further out of her reach.
"Reg? Reg?" Diana prompted, gesturing dramatically at her bare foot as Cooper noticed the situation, beginning to laugh along. Eve, along with Stirling and Churchill, had moved far enough away to continue their business without being disturbed, but she found she had little choice other than to hop after him, suddenly regretting her impulsive act of aggression.
"Oh, you shit," She called, tearing off her remaining shoe with as much zeal as she had the first, throwing the second with greater force as it collided with Reg's back. If it had hurt, he hadn't shown it, for he was too amused at the sight of her standing there in her socks upon the sand, already grimacing at the feeling of it between her toes.
"Well, what are you gonna do now?" Seekings laughed, the corners of his eyes creasing as he held out the shoes to her like she were some dog failing at fetch.
"Fuck!" Diana cried, her dismayed expression suddenly turning to a grin as Cooper swooped in from behind, snatching the boots from Reg's grip in the second that he was caught off guard. She gasped, chuckling at Seekings' stricken expression as he tossed them over, scrambling to catch them before they hit the sandy ground below.
"Johnny, my darling, someday you'll make some girl very happy," She said, craning her leg at an awkward angle as she tugged the thick leather back over her heels. Cooper batted a hand at her, wordlessly wandering off, but she noticed a spattering of red across his cheeks accompanying his boyish grin. Reg frowned, turning around and almost walking straight into a jeep when Diana smirked back at him.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
For the remainder of the trip back to Jalo, Diana kept her feet propped up on the dashboard beside Stirling, attempting to get the sand out of her socks. He complained frequently, but in the months they had known each other David had long since grown accustomed to her complete disregard for what he did or didn't want her to do. Frankly, he was just glad she wasn't driving.
"You're flicking sand on me," He droned, eyes on the horizon as they led the small convoy behind them.
"You're annoying," Diana retorted, shaking out one of her socks as she flexed her toes, making him grimace.
"Very mature, thank you."
"You're welcome," She replied sweetly, and he caught a glimpse of her smile in the crooked rearview mirror. Dammit. No matter what she did, he could never quite hold a grudge. Stirling found himself wondering if he would have liked to have had a sister growing up. Although, he wasn't sure he could have coped living with Diana every day, especially not in the more petulant days of his youth.
It was silent for a long moment, but he could feel her gaze boring into the side of his face. "Whatever you're about to do, don't."
The sudden feeling of her finger in his ear made Stirling yelp, and Diana let out a loud snort, laughter erupting like a bubble from her throat. "Stop acting like a child or I swear I'll crash this jeep," He barked, attempting to sound authoritative but sounding altogether far too alarmed, succeeding only in making her laugh harder.
"You think the pair of us dying in a horrible crash is an appropriate punishment for that?"
"I'll probably enjoy it the same amount," David stated, beginning to chuckle himself as Jalo came into view up ahead. "Do not tell the others you just did that," He sighed.
"Think it'll undermine your authority, eh?"
"I find you do little else, Diana," Stirling smiled sarcastically at her, pulling up the handbrake as they rolled to a stop outside the oasis.
She grinned, taking her feet off the dashboard and straightening up as the pair got out of the car, matching frowns tugging at their expressions as they noticed the new French troops lounging about in the sun chairs, flipping through newspapers and sipping on their booze.
"What the fuck..." Stirling muttered.
"They're definitely supposed to be training," Diana pointed out.
Beginning to march up the sandy slope towards the gaping hole in the wall they used as an entrance, Stirling called back to her over his shoulder. "You're in charge for the next thirty seconds until I get back."
Planting her hands on her hips, she let out a snort. "Promotion. Nice."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
By the time he returned, blustering and pissed off, Diana had taken to staring at the tent pitched just beyond the boundaries of their little territory, the canvas blowing slightly in the breeze, a recently shot gazelle strung up over a wooden frame like the hunting trophies her father used to collect.
She hadn't even had to ask what the situation was when Stirling returned - if she knew anything at all about Paddy, she could figure this one out. "He's not done shit since we left, has he?"
"What he has done is break bones, knock out teeth, and almost inspire a fucking mutiny," He fumed, brushing past her as he made an angered beeline for Mayne's tent. At the feeling of her hand grasping his shoulder he stopped, turning to look irritably back at her. "What?"
"I'll go. He doesn't like either of us but he respects me more than he does you."
Stirling raised a brow. "Are you sure about that?"
"In fairness, it's a low bar," She nodded, patting him on the shoulder before taking his place in the march towards Paddy Mayne's makeshift sanctuary.
In the dim light of the tent, he lay down on his bunk, book propped up against his chest as he read in silence. He somehow looked even worse than he had the last time she saw him, covered in dirt and dust, his hair greasy and his beard matted. Diana didn't bother waiting for an invitation, grunting as she crouched down to sit on the floor, stealing the half-empty bottle of whiskey from beside his bed.
Paddy hadn't looked up from his book when he spoke. "So. How'd it go."
"Blew up a car," She spoke, pulling out the cork with her teeth. "Tore a hole through a building, probably killed a dozen men, didn't stay to find out. Beat up a guy in an alley though - scratched his eyes so bad he couldn't see."
He let out a grunt that could've almost been a laugh, putting the book down, open against his stomach. "Buildings don't count for the tally."
"You know I never gave a fuck about that," Diana shrugged, taking a sip of the whiskey. "I do care about this though," She gestured to the tent around them. "About you not doing your job - beating the shit out of those French wankers."
"They deserved it."
"Fucking probably, doesn't mean you get to do it. D'you think I'd be here if I broke the ribs of everyone I met who deserved it? They'd give me the fucking death penalty," She chuckled, almost passing the bottle back to Mayne before rethinking it.
He smiled then, a sliver of teeth showing. After a pause, Paddy spoke. "Why'd Stirling send you, then? Scared to deal with his own problems as usual."
"He was gonna come - I stopped him. Figured you and I could have a more productive conversation."
"And why the fuck did you think that?"
"Because, unlike Stirling, I don't feel threatened by you."
"Oh, bullshit, yes you do."
Diana's brow furrowed, her frown creasing her cheeks. "No. I don't."
Paddy's head lolled to the side, his gaze finally meeting hers. "Then why won't you talk about Eoin?"
She almost choked, a held breath stoppering her throat and making her feel the need to gag. No one had mentioned Eoin's name to her, not since it had happened. Those that had been there knew what she'd been through and left it alone. Those that hadn't didn't know enough to ask her about it. Until now.
"You don't need to know about what happened to Eoin," Diana spoke, her voice meek, barely above a whisper.
His brow furrowed angrily. "You don't get to fuckin' tell me what I do or don't need to-"
"No, no!" She pushed, holding up a hand to silence him. "Let me speak. What I mean is you - specifically you - don't need what happened to him stuck in your head..." In the dim light of the tent, Paddy could still spot the beginning of a tear welling in her eyes. "I know what you went looking for out in the dunes, Paddy, and I know you didn't find it."
He sucked in a sharp breath, the air hissing as it was dragged through the gap in his teeth. "I think you should leave now."
"I didn't tell you about what happened because I blamed myself. And I was scared of what would happen if you did too."
No one spoke for a long time, the desert wind whistling through the gaps in the canvas, the open tent flap swinging back and forth with a repetitively smacking sound as it collided with the outside. The whiskey bottle was tucked between Diana's knees, but she didn't reach for it.
"Weren't your fault." He uttered. She looked up at him with those big, brown, sad eyes of hers, and he almost wanted to hit her. Paddy had never known how to deal with sad people. "Maybe you'll never tell me what happened, but-"
"One day I will."
"But, I know it wasn't your fault."
Diana sniffed, wiping a stray tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. "Yeah," She nodded. "Yeah... thank you."
Paddy nodded, picking up his book and resuming his reading. She almost laughed, pushing herself up onto her feet.
"Y'know... you're gonna have to apologise to the French."
"Oh, fuck off - you know I won't."
Diana chuckled. "I do. But now I can tell Stirling that I told you to, so it's not my fault when you don't."
The corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk. She turned to leave, pausing in the opening of the tent. "Oi."
"Aye?"
"... Wanna go cook the gazelle?"
Paddy took a long pause, thinking this over. After a prolonged moment of silence, he tossed the book aside, pushing himself to sit up with a grunt.
"May as well. Not giving that Jordan prick any, though."
She smiled. "We'll see."
#sas rogue heroes#sas rogue heroes fic#sas rogue heroes oc#david stirling#paddy mayne#reg seekings#reg seekings x oc#johnny cooper#eve mansour#sas: rogue heroes fic#sas: rogue heroes#oc: diana
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Page of my girls that are the most mentally ill and also terrorists❤️ hate and malice in the multiverse
#my draws#OC: Agni#OC: Diana#Diana has less scars bc she heals better as a werewolf#Agni is just human#Diana doesnt have eye shinies bc she's supposed to be more off-putting#she's not blind she's just weird#peg your boyfriend NOW#and also how I think their handwriting would look#tf2 oc#villainous oc
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
the colors are scuffed but my here’s my babygirl
18 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
sweety16256
Untitled
mrsmaxwelllord
Mrs Lord
restnine-blog
RSET NINE 블로그
bamboosheets
Best Bedding Wholesaler
fuckyoume12
내구제 및 대출 장매입