#oc: eva lean

[angelicadamposting]

Eva Lean & Lucifer ཐི♡ཋྀ | Strike 3

art by the talented @kandavers <3 !!

From before Eva ever fell from Heaven, she'd always had a hatred for Lucifer. She had been Adam's third wife after Lilith and Eve were 'stolen.' Lucifer was the very person responsible for her 'ex'-husband's anguish and subsequent (even if not admitted...) insecurities. So, of course, once she was in Hell and living in the King's daughter's Hotel, she was still quite adamant about her distaste for Lucifer. Bickering with him, nitpicking, mocking or teasing him until it leads to her shouting at him in her own frustration or rage -- all while he stands just a FEW goddamn inches taller than her, with that stupidly handsome, smug grin plastered on his damned face.

For once in her damned existence in that pit, Eva was relieved in her so-called 'sinner-form,' hopeful it'd keep her identity a secret from Lucifer. Still only wishing for few to know of her being a fallen angel, or associated with Adam. Only Vaggie, Valentino, and Sir Pentious are aware by the time she meets the King of Hell. And it did work, the man was too focused on his daughter - as he should be - or arguing with Alastor. It worked all the way until the extermination day when Adam called her out and recognized her on the damn spot. (and we don't know what'll happen after the finale yet so... gotta wait to finish her story</3)

[drewsbuzzcut]

I Can See It In Your Eyes

Drew Starkey x Evangeline Sinclair (OC)

Warnings: none that I can think of (this is also lightly edited so sorry for any mistakes)

“Evangeline!”

“Ms. Sinclair over here!”

“Look this way!”

The young starlet walks down the red carpet, the train of her gown in her hand as she makes her way to an interviewer. The buzzing crowd does nothing for her nerves, but she focuses on the pride she feels as everyone calls out for her.

“We’re here with Evangeline Sinclair. She walked the red carpet for the first time just yesterday for her premiere of her brand new horror movie. Everyone seemed to love it and the reviews are to die for. How do you feel?” The interviewer dives in straight away.

Evangeline only has a millisecond to catch her breath.

“So excited. This movie is special to me and I want people to really feel that. I hope that transcribes well through all the hard work that was put into that project,” she breathes out, hands clutched over her heart to show that her words are heartfelt.

“Today you’re here as well to support your fellow Loewe crew and Luca who you’ve previously worked with.”

“Yes, I am. Luca is a fantastic director and he’s perfect at having a vision and making it come to life. I’m honored to be here to celebrate and support such an amazing film and an amazing cast and crew”

“If you don’t mind shifting gears, rumor has it that Drew Starkey is your newest costar for another horror movie coming out sometime next year,” the woman says excitedly.

“Well I guess it isn’t a rumor anymore. Yes, he’s my costar and we’re actually in the middle of filming. Our lovely cast and crew were gracious enough to allow us to be here supporting our other projects,” Evangeline grins, a little flutter growing in her heart at the thought of Drew.

“Well the chemistry must be strong between you two. I can just feel the electricity buzzing when you walk by one another,” the interviewer points out, making a blush form on the actress’s cheeks.

“He’s amazing to work with. What can I say? Our chemistry is unmatched and that’s why we’re starring in a major movie together,” she muses through a big grin.

“I think I heard my name,” Drew chimes in, popping up behind Evangeline.

His hand finds the small of her back and he places a chaste kiss to her cheek, furthermore making her face blaze.

“Drew! How kind of you to join us. What’s it like working with this generation’s scream queen?”

Both Drew and Eva share a quick glance, their eyes quickly flitting away from each other. The girl is highly aware of his large hand still present on her back.

“Ah man. She’s- yeah she’s perfect. Someone that everyone wants to work with, and I just so happen to be the lucky one to do so. She’s super talented and she really knows how to put dedication into the craft,” Drew compliments, directing his gaze back to her.

They all look at each other just about speechless. Evangeline wasn’t expecting for him to say that and it clearly caught the interviewer off guard.

“He’s such a flatterer. I should be saying that I’m the lucky one, being able to work with him,” she shakes off her surprise.

“And soon everyone will be the lucky ones when they’re able to see your film in theaters.”

Evangeline turns her body into Drew’s, her hand landing on his chest in an affectionate manner. Although their touches seem to be mostly platonic, everyone will still be able to see the tension bouncing between their eyes.

“We can’t wait for everyone to see it,” Drew gleams and squeezes the actress into his side.

“Thank you, Drew and Evangeline. It was nice talking to you both,” the interviewer concludes her interview and the duo bid their goodbyes.

“You should pose with me for pictures,” Drew leans down to whisper in her ear.

The girl blushed furiously this time, heart practically beating out of her chest. Whenever she’s around Drew, her senses go haywire.

“No way. You’re the star of the night,” she huffs out.

“And you’re always a star.” Can he be any more perfect?

“One picture. Only one, Drew,” she gives in.

After a few pictures- after the paparazzi couldn’t get enough of them -the duo make their way inside, away from any prying eyes or lenses.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you that you look beautiful,” Drew sighs as if it's been weighing on his chest.

“Thank you. You look handsome as well.”

His hands find their way back onto her back, slowly tugging her into him for a long overdue hug. Evangeline doesn’t dare stop herself from looping her arms around his neck. His hair tickles her fingers in a pleasant way, reminding her of all the times she’s played with his hair on set.

If someone were to see them, they’d think they’re a couple. Hell, sometimes her mind even tricks her into thinking they’re a couple. Truth is, their bond has become so strong, a catalyst from co-starring in a movie together. Their characters are each other’s love interest, and they’ve had their fair share of onscreen kisses that have pushed their relationship to toe the line between fiction and reality.

Snapping the girl out of her thoughts, Drew slides a hand down her arm and interlocks their fingers.

“Shit. I need to get going and meet up with Luca and Daniel and everyone else,” he mutters, lowering his head in slight annoyance.

“Nervous, Starkey?” There’s a tease hidden in her words and Drew catches it right away.

He fights off a bubbling laugh and just presses a hard kiss to her cheek.

“It’s okay if you’re nervous,” she adds after he fails to respond.

“I’m fine. I know you’ll be in there, seated right behind me,” he says and gathers her in his arms once again. Even in heels, Eva still has to be on her tiptoes to press her forehead to his.

“Mmm right. I almost forgot that I’m your non-date,” she laughs. Drew had asked her to accompany him during his film's premiere day, knowing that her presence will keep him calm. He also can’t deny that he adores seeing her dolled up and by his side.

“Date,” he corrects her. She stays silent, just peering into his baby blues.

“I’m proud of you,” she whispers and finally returns his cheek kiss.

“I have to get going.”

“Go superstar,” she playfully pushes at his chest.

He squeezes at her hips, reluctantly pulling away to catch one last, longing gaze at her before meeting the cast and crew for Queer.

a/n: I haven’t written for Drew in a while, so I hope y’all truly enjoy it

Let me know if there’s anything specific you want to see with Drew and Evangeline!

[stargazing-sapphire2]

Legacy - 1/?

Summary: With the disappearance of Logan and with Rorke still out there, the Ghosts soon find themselves back at war with the Federation. Amidst the chaos and death, Beth and Hesh will soon find their relationship put into question when an unexpected surprise finds its way into their lives...and whether or not they will live to see the end of this conflict.

[A Post Call of Duty: Ghosts fanfiction; David "Hesh" Walker/OC]

TRIGGER WARNING(s): Canon-Typical Violence, spoilers for the Ghosts campaign, Unplanned Pregnancy, Alcoholism/Drug use, Psychological Torture/Brainwashing, Rorke is a whole ass trigger warning, PTSD *more to be added for future chapters*

TAGLIST: @thatonesillyducko @deeptrashwitch @gunnrblze @maymaylyn @blacktacmopsi @milkteaarttime @imagoddamnonionmason @me-is-confused @seraphiixiao

“So…is this it?”

Hesh lifted his head as he heard her speak. He glanced over at her curiously, noting the frown on her face.

“About what?” He questioned.

Beth shrugged, reaching over to push back her bangs from her face.

“You’re going after Rorke.”

“Yeah?”

Beth went silent, as if contemplating her next words. Hesh watched her passively, but some part of him knew deep down he was not going to like what she said.

It was the way she is, after all.

“I could go with you,” she offered softly.

Hesh immediately sat up with a start, and she mimicked the gesture.

“No,” he said, a little too quickly for his liking.

Beth frowned, sitting up next to him.

“Why not?” She demanded.

He hesitated.

How so badly he wanted to tell her…

“This is mine and Logan’s fight,” he replied.

Her eyes flared.

“It’s my fight too!” She snapped. “You’re not the only one who has a stake in this!”

Hesh’s hands grabbed at her shoulders, and Beth froze, eyes widening as she stared at him.

“I can’t..” His voice was shaky, breathless. “I can’t lose you. Please, don’t make go through that…”

Beth stared at him, her eyes softening monetarily as he said this. The pair sat in silence, waiting for the other to speak first.

Finally, Beth exhaled, reaching over to grip at one of his wrists as he slowly released her.

“It won’t come to that,” she murmured, squeezing it lightly as if to reassure him, or herself.

Perhaps to reassure both of them.

Hesh gripped both her hands now, his green eyes staring into her blue ones.

“Don’t make me go through that…” He repeated, voice wobbling as he looked her in the face. “Please…

“You won’t lose me,” she told him, leaning in closer and--

~*~

Hesh opened his eyes.

The first sight he was greeted to was the black canopy of a tent, and a dull, aching throb in his abdomen. Breathing heavily, he slowly sat up, flinching as his hand instinctively went to his torso as pain shot through it.

Where…?

A startled gasp came from a few feet away, and he turned his head, locking eyes with the source.

“Eva..?” He spoke, wincing at rough his voice sounded, and his throat felt like sandpaper.

“You’re awake,” Eva replied, sighing in relief. She set the clipboard that she was holding down, and made her way over to him, checking over his vitals and the wound in his abdomen, which was currently wrapped up. “How do you feel?”

“Awful,” Hesh admitted as she pulled away. Before he could ask for water, she departed from the tent, most likely going to inform someone he was still alive.

He was left alone with his thoughts, and everything came rushing back to him.

Rorke’s boot smashing into his jaw and knocking him back; his own screams echoing in his head, and laying there, helpless and useless, as Logan was stolen away from him.

All because he did nothing

He did nothing.

What kind of brother am I?

The tent flaps opened, and Hesh lifted his head to glance at the intrusion, his eyes meeting the sharp emerald gaze of Henry Ashford.

After the death of Elias, the other Captain had been named his successor, and as of now, remained the current acting commander of the Ghosts. Despite having grown up with the other man as another authority figure in his life, Hesh had seldom ever seen the man in person ever since he enlisted; having only ever spoke to him on the comms when they were out in the field.

To see him in person now meant it was important.

The Ashford patriarch looked tired, his eyes bloodshot and his hair slightly disheveled and a five o’clock shadow on his face. However, he offered a wry smile to the younger man.

“It’s good to see you alive, son,” he said. Hesh sat up, wincing as pain ripped through his abdomen, but he did his best to ignore it.

“Sir-“

“We’ll be moving out as soon as you’re recuperated,” Henry said, cutting off whatever Hesh was going t say. “We put a dent in the Federation’s forces, but—”

“Henry-“ Hesh tried to get out, frustration bubbling inside him.

“-With Santa Monica destroyed, we’ll need to find another base of operations. I’ll be getting our guys from DC on the line soon and—” Henry continued to drone on.

“Henry, where’s Logan?”

Henry paused his yapping, immediately focusing his attention on Hesh.

“Lieutenant?” The older man questioned.

“Where’s my brother?” Hesh repeated. “Where’s Logan?”

Despite his earlier thoughts, Hesh clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, they managed to catch up to Rorke, and managed to rescue Logan.

Maybe he was nearby, maybe he was outside the tent right now, waiting to be called in.

His heart sank when Henry remained silent.

“Henry, please,” Hesh begged, desperation bubbling inside him. “Where’s Logan?”

Henry closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling as if contemplating what to say next. Finally, he opened them again, looking Hesh dead in the face.

“He’s gone.”

His heart shattered.

‘What do you mean…” Hesh stammered, trying to keep his voice steady. “That can’t…he has to be—”

“He’s gone, David,” Henry repeated, a little more sternly this time. “Wherever Rorke took him, he was long gone by the time we got to you.”

Hesh stared at him in disbelief, and Henry shook his head, glancing away from the younger man.

“I’m sorry…” He continued. “But I can’t afford to squander anymore resources looking for one man on a wild goose chase, nor is it a top priority. I’m sorry, David, but Logan is gone.”

He’s gone.

The words repeated in his mind over and over, like a broken record.

Anger, sadness and despair all welled within him, cracking at the wall he tried to hold up; damned if he would weep in front of his commanding officer.

Henry watched him passively, although there was a glean of sympathy in the green of his eyes.

“Take all the time you need alone, son…” He said in a low voice after a heavy pause. “Just shout if you need any assistance.”

He seen exited the tent, and Hesh was alone again.

Bringing his knees up to his chest, Hesh buried his face in them, his body shaking as heaving sobs began to tear their way out of him.

I’m sorry, Logan, he thought sorrowfully. Mom, Dad…I’m so sorry…

He let them down.

He had failed all of them.

What do I do now?

The dam broke, and the tears finally fell.

And he began to weep.

“I’m sorry…” He cried.

[mar3ggiata]

the night of the tarantula - 5

simon riley x oc

'Deep rivers run quiet.'

‘You wanna know something?’

She cleaned the corner of her mouth with a napkin. She propped her feet up on the stool, adjusting the hood of her sweater on her head. Copenhagen was incredibly cold in the winter mornings

‘What?’ She asked.

He was shirtless, leaning against the kitchen counter. He had a bowl of yogurt in his hands, spoon hanging from his mouth. He preferred anything sweet for breakfast, yogurts or any cake she baked. Fruit sometimes, frozen grapes. She had a bagel on the plate in front of her, crumbles of bread and egg on the plate and on the table, she was a messy eater.

‘Every morning, or like before lunch, I squeeze the mayo for you… I-‘, he mimicked slamming the mayo on the table to make it fall to the opening of the tube, ‘I make sure it’s all to the very end… cause it can get stuck on the sides of the bottle, you know, and I’m stronger than you…’

Her eyes lit up and she smiled. Her shoulders were shaken with a sincere laugh.

‘Really? You’re calling me a little bitch cause I can’t squeeze the mayo?’

She smiled. He scoffed and nodded, setting his empty yogurt bowl in the sink.

‘Yeah, my little bitch…’

She took another big bite or her sandwich, smearing egg yolk all over her cheeks. She grabbed the napkin again to clean herself, rubbing her feet together to feel some warmth. As she placed the half eaten bagel on the plate, Simon’s large arms wrapped around her. He scrunched down enough for his body to completely envelope hers. One arm around her neck, the other up her shirt. She felt his lips kiss her cheek, the bridge of her nose, her jaw. She was almost lifted from the chair by the force of the hug, she let her head fall back against his chest.

‘The things I do for you…’

‘Do you know what I do every day for you?’ A giggle escaped from her lips as he squeezed harder, a kiss on her neck sent tickles down her spine.

‘I know what you do for me every night…‘

She laughed out loud. His chest filled with warmth and he closed both arms around her. Still standing up behind her, he nuzzled his nose in her hair, she moved her hands on his naked arms. She squirmed in his grasp. ‘I move your blanket every day from the bed to the couch so you can have it when you nap’, she argued. She turned in the chair, freeing herself from his embrace. She cupped his cheeks with both hands, cradling his face and forcing his close to her. ‘I make sure your blanket is on the couch during the day if you wanna nap and then I take it back to bed with me so you can sleep with it.’

'The green one?'

'The green one.'

He closed his eyes, jaw unclenching, eyebrows relaxing. He felt her thumbs soothing the skin of his under eye bags, the crooked bridge of his nose, coming down to his jawline. He leaned into the chair, into her, almost wishing he could crawl inside her, he was never close enough. So soft, so tender, so indulging. When the palm of her hand caressed his cheek, he turned his head to kiss it.

‘You're saying I’m a little bitch cause I need my blanket?’

She laughed again. It felt like her chest cracked and happiness was finally flowing in her veins.

Eva was allowed to go teach ballet the next day. They escorted her car to the school, they watched her park and go up the stairs. They waited three hours for her to finish teaching a class and rehearsing with her dance partner. The same morning at 7, they has two soldiers walk ten feet behind her as she walked her dog, to the park, around the walkway of the lake and back home. Fucking terrifying. She felt imprisoned, she felt like she was gonna get shot by a sniper or some shit through the windows of the ballets school.

'Remember, arms in fifth position here…' Even teaching was harder than normal. She felt dizzy, she wasn't strong enough to lift her legs where she wanted them, the girls weren't listening today, she couldn't find the right music.

'Let's see it from the top, please…' She knew they were watching her from downstairs, the thought made her throat close up. '…and one and stay! And two, piqué! And rond de jambe…'

It was weird, knowing the fucking military was at the door, knowing her, the dance teacher, was being watched as the girls rehearsed. By authorities of the government.

After rehearsing with Blake, for both Arabian and Snow Queen, she took five minutes alone to regain her strengths. Or so she thought she was alone. She walked in circles around the room, head down, hands on her hips. She felt like a stranger in her own body, in that stupid leotard wet with sweat, feet bleeding, arms sore. But at least, alone. Away from the barking of her dog, away from Salvo, he was kind and considerate and made sure she ate and took care of herself but God, did she want to be alone… Away from that interrogation room, from the pictures, Price and… well, even him.

Ghost was standing by the door, as he did a million times before. Like a fucking dog he follower her scent and took his usual spot in the corner. Watching her, admiring her body, the way she danced. He watched her pace around, breathing still laboured from dancing for three hours, leotard slick with sweat. She went to the corner of the room where she usually had her bag and sat down. He had to slightly crane his neck to see her, risking getting caught. She had a pink bag, never seen that bag before. She took off her pointe shoes and winched in pain, he supposed she had blisters on her feet. She inspected her toes, the tape and those blue patched he saw her put on once to protect her skin. She discarded the old shoes and threw them in her bag. In the pink sack were a pair of brand new shiny pointe shoes.

She sat on her heels, got out a needle from a small flower printed box. She sawn two pink ribbons one at each side of the shoes. The ones she tied around her calves. He watched her fingers work with the fabric, brows furrowed while trying to get the ribbons symmetrical on the shoe. She cut the excess lace with her teeth. Still on the ground, she took the inside sole of the shoe, shank is what it's called and ripped it. She bent the shoe in half, pressing with both hands. He watched her biceps contract while she squeezed the shoe in half and then released it. The violence, the accurate, pondered violence she was putting in her movements made him think she was relieving some anger on the shoes. When she was done, she got up and he thought she was finally ready to leave. She wasn't.

She pressed the heel of her naked foot on the shoe, bending the shape of it and popping the toe box. A loud crack left the shoe looking lifeless. She repeated the procedure with the other shoe, putting her whole weight on it, bending and pressing. Crack. As he wondered why she was destroying the new shoes, she turned her back to him. Facing the wall, she let her fingers travel to an unspecified spot. A step back, she slammed her pointe shoe on the wall. Again, and again, and again, a rhythmic and incredibly loud bang, bang, bang, bang. He nearly flinched at sound. At the force. The front of the shoe connected with the wall several times before she was satisfied. She repeated with the other shoe. Bang, bang, bang, he stared at her back, the flower tattooed on her back distorted by her movements. He imagined the wall would dent and break and collapse and the whole building would crumble on itself. When she was done, silence filled the room again. She was panting. She put the shoes back in the pink bag, that's when he felt like he could knock. She turned in one sudden movement, frightened. By him, that is.

Her ponytail messy, her skin red from exhaustion, she looked at him betrayed. Disappointed. When he was the one who was supposed to be hurt in the situation. He knew why she was mad, don’t get me wrong. He had told the captain to contact Salvo, he gave in the only ally she had outside this situation. He had a job to do, that was the thing that she didn’t understand. So, she really had no right to look at him like that.

She stood next to her bag, jaw clenched, her eyes empty of emotion. It was the first time he was alone with her in what felt like months, he felt so detached, so disconnected. She was a stranger. And yet, there he was. Chasing her, again. Longing for time alone with her, following her, feeling privileged enough to get alone time with her out of all his colleagues. He was sitting in the car, staring through the windows of the ballet school. He would see her move around the room occasionally. He saw her students leave at 10, when the lesson was done. He saw Gemma, remember Gemma? He saw her dance partner, the guy who plays the prince, enter the school at 10.02, joining her in the rehearsals room. He found himself wondering, did she eat that morning? Was she tired, dancing for those many hours? Did she have something to drink with her? Was she busy with her patients later, how was her dog, did she need any help?

What the hell was she thinking?

He watched her from the corner of the room, she looked like she wanted to disappear into the wall behind her.

'All good?'

His voice was so low she barely understood what he said. A whisper, like he didn't even want to speak. Masked and cruel. She didn't know who that person was and the thought of having had him so close to her made her sick to her stomach. She didn't reply, she packed her bag. She put on a sweater and stripped of her skirt. He had seen her dance before, her legs in pink tights. He had seen everything, why bother to care at this point.

'What?' He asked, reacting to her silent treatment. Louder this time.

She pulled a pair of sweats on her legs and undid her ponytail, she slipped on her running shoes. She started walking towards him. She didn't look up from the ground, she knew why he was there, to collect her. To take her back home and then to work after lunch. After work, she was gonna being interrogated again. Standard procedure.

His words vane, she still wouldn’t speak. She stormed towards him like a deadly, terrific hurricane. She passed him, squeezing herself between his body and the door frame. He acted out of instinct.

His hand grabbed her wrist as she walked past him, he snatched her close to him with too much force making her nearly lose balance. She looked at him with fire in her eyes, shocked at his move.

'Lasciami stare!' She yelled, freeing her wrist from his grip.

He registered, as he didn't understand what she was saying, she spoke Italian instinctively. She took a step back and he shivered at the thought she might be fearing him. He attempted to close the distance between them with a step. He didn't have a plan after that. Yell at her, corner her against the wall, question her about her lies now that they were alone, hold her, kiss her. It was insulting to his rank, to his persona, to everything he was. This feeling, this emotion towards her. He craved her presence, he craved being close to her, physically in her space. He realised it just then, he realised that's why he was in the interrogation room, why he was escorting her to class, offering to go fetch her from the school and bring her to her car, it was to be close to her. And now that he was he didn't know what to do.

She was still looking at him baffled at him move, chest moving quickly with every breath, hand gripping the strap of her bag tightly out of anger.

'Why? He spat out, and it came out louder than he intended it to be.

'Uh?

'Why did you do that?'

'What?' She squinted her eyes at him.

'Lie.'

She scoffed, 'Oh please…', she was ready to run down the stairs.

'That's not an answer!'

She turned her back to him and the thought of her leaving made him step foreword one more time. She would not get out of that conversation.

'Oi!' He grabber her arm once more, tighter.

She tried to free herself by simply pulling in the direction of the stairs but she soon realised his hand on her forearm wasn't just lingering there. She turned back around to face him, delicately placing her small, soft hand on his, on her arm. He thought for a moment she did change her mind. This was all a big mistake. He thought they would sit on the dance room floor like they did before and talk, and she would explain everything, everything was just a big misunderstanding and maybe -

'Get the fuck away from me.'

Her eyes betrayed the harsh sound of her voice and he noticed. A shadow passed through her green irises, of fear. Of disappointment and longing. For him, maybe? He didn't move an inch despite her request. Instead, he gently pulled her closer and closer. Her running shoe squeaked on her floor, a sign she didn't want to move but she wasn't resisting either. He bent foreword to get a good look at her, trying to read her feelings through her expression. She strangely enough, didn't stop him. She looked up at him, the hand she had placed on his falling at her side. Like she wanted to see how far he would push himself. He felt like their noses were about to touch.

'You could have told me.' He said, he didn't need to raise his voice, she was close enough to hear him even whisper.

She seemed hurt by his words, her brows furrowed. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. He wouldn't understand. Never, no. His entitlement, the audacity of coming here and demanding thing he know she can't give him, after seeing her crying her eyes out during the interrogation, no. He knew too much already, he knew everything, her mom, her brother, no...

'No…'

She finally managed to speak. He sounded desperate at that point, considering they should have been back to the cars at least 10 minutes ago. He scanned her face for any sign, anything that would tell him she was being honest and open, anything to make him believe her.

'You could have told me, I-'

She shook her head, like she was getting back to her senses, like he put a spell on her. She pulled her arm back and he didn't try to stop her this time.

'No…' she mumbled, and before he knew it she was out the door.

notes: uh damn

taglist:

@random-fandom-smoothie @lucienofthelakes

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me @asteriadisera @sigynxlokiwifelover

[call-sign-shark]

The Gentle Art of Terror

summary: Jack and Eva Nelson have an unpleasant encounter during a posh party. Her name? Tina Cacciatore, Luca Changretta's right hand. || Based on the "ask about your OC and mine to receive a one-shot + small moodboard". Also exploring Eva being scared is super cool. (@evita-shelby)

Words: 1.5k

“What are we doing here?” Eva asked, her sly and perfectly manicured hands tightly wrapped around the American’s muscular arm as they navigated in the dim light of the damp wine cellar. Warm but feeble lamps were hanging from the concrete ceiling, softly swinging from left and right at each gust of wind, casting their yellowish hue on the walls. The sumptuous witch’s voice was underlined with a palpable annoyance for she didn’t understand why they should waste their time in this shit hole while one of the most expensive parties ever held in Boston was taking place two stories above them. Jack Nelson‘s only reply was a little “shhh” before he walled himself in silence again, his green eyes surveyed his hostile surroundings with great attention. Even though the letter stipulated that their encounter would be peaceful, only aimed at discussing the terms of territory limits, Jack didn’t trust the man for his life of his. While merciless as an enraged bull and sly as a fox, he knew far too well that Luca Changretta, the most efficient soldier of the Spinetta’s family and the one rapidly climbing the Mafia’s highest ranks, wouldn’t shy away at the idea of slicing his throat at the slightest moment of inattention and Jack couldn’t have that. Even less when his mesmerizing wife, as powerful as him but embodying his only weakness, was with him at this moment.

“Jack.” She called him, her tone firmer as to remind him she wasn’t some kind of docile trophy wife but a Queen who could have almost everyone eating from her cursed hand. The sole power of her voice made him oblige — Nelson pinched his scarred lips in a thin line before replying.

“Remember when I told you Changretta wanted to talk? Well, here we are,” His gaze, usually hard and unyielding, softened at the sight of his wife’s expression, which was a combination of surprise and discontent, “I told you to stay at the party.” 

“And I told you I’m not some meek girl. If you are in trouble so I am, and I won't hesitate to make the fucker atone for the sin of thinking about harming you.” She stated, unbreakable and with the fury of a harpy. To this, Jack couldn’t help but grin: if the situation wasn’t so dangerous he would probably have fucked her right here, right now. With every day passing by, Eva’s reactions comforted him in the decision of belonging to her and only her. 

“Let’s stay careful. I don’t know where Changretta is… Might be as well looming in the dark and waiting to attack—“

“Oh. He’s here.”  She cut him off, one brow raised, her face composed but her gift of Clairvoyance unpleasantly rattling against her bones at the unpleasant sight. In a profound, almost animal instinct, She dug her nails into Jack’s thick sleeve as she felt her husband’s entire body tense when his eyes met with what she saw.

Luca Changretta stood against the wall like he belonged there, a tall and slender figure made of shadows. The swinging lamps of the ceiling threw their warm light at his face, bringing out his sharp traits, accentuating the hard line of his jaw, the predatory gleam in his eye, and the charisma he effortlessly exuded. With an air of casual indifference, the Capo was leaning back, his arms loosely crossed — Surprisingly, his posture was rather relaxed, while still bearing something threatening, like a panther that could spring to action in a blink the moment it smelt blood. A toothpick rolled lazily between his teeth as he carefully watched a third man across him, a man tied to a chair, his form broken and pathetic for he had been reduced to little more than a shell of fear and trembling flesh. 

Eva froze, an imaginary alarm ringing relentlessly in her brain as her genius mind quickly put two and two together —no blood on his face or on his ridiculously pricey tailored suit, a rather long distance from the victim: There was someone else. And that someone was responsible for this twisted scene, probably under Luca’s commands, but if so where was that monster?  Jack should have had the same thought for he quickly checked his surroundings to make sure no one had trapped them but, hopefully, there was no one. However, the echoing footsteps of the powerful couple had drawn the mafioso’s attention for a fleeting second. His piercing green gaze, shining in the dim light, flicked to them and paused just long enough to make sure they understood that he saw them—really saw them. Then, a grin slowly spread across his face in a chilling, knowing smile that curled his lips and reached his eyes in a way that was anything but friendly.

“Good evening, Mr.Nelson. I didn’t expect you to come to our little meeting in such a good company.” He finally said, his smooth voice slightly resounding in the cellar as he nodded at Eva’s direction to acknowledge her presence. Enemy but still a gentleman. As unexpected as it was, Luca wasn’t particularly surprised considering how skillfully manipulative and equally dangerous the new Mrs.Nelson was. Another shiver ran down the Mexican beauty, who couldn’t help but shift their focus from Luca to the tied-up victim, sobbing in muffled and exhausted squeals through the cloth that gagged him. She felt it — this presence, this fourth person hidden somewhere with a stare so burning she almost nervously scratched herself to get rid of the sensation. 

“Luca Changretta.” Jack simply said, spitting the name with so much disgust and disdain it seemed he had just taken a bite of a rotten apple, “I didn’t know you would put on a show in a pathetic attempt to scare me.” Jack stated with a raised brow — if his enemy had the slightest idea about who he was, he would surely know that cruelty didn’t impress Jack Nelson for he himself used to inflect it for business purpose. Ironically, what he loved the most was the Italian way.

“If you think all of this is to impress you let me tell you that you’re wrong,” The mafioso waved off the cutting remark with a elegant movement of the hand, “This unfortunate soul betrayed me so I had to make an example out of him. Nothing to do with you.”

That was how the men started to talk and while Eva was aware of it, the rest of their conversation blurred into unintelligible background when she noticed the tied-up man’s sudden agitation. The latter jolted and his breath hitched, muffled behind the ragged and saliva-coated cloth gag stuffed in his mouth. The air suddenly became heavy with a primal, animal fear that suffocated Eva. As her clairvoyant senses urged her to flee, her dark eyes still followed the panicking victim’s gaze until they fell on the slim and rather short frame of a woman. 

“Amore,” Luca called, interrupting his conversation with Jack Nelson due to the annoying noise he heard in the background, “Silence him.” He just ordered in a Sicilian — as a polyglot, Eva understood it — with as many emotions as if he had asked her to close the door, before focusing on his business talk again.  Two words, one command, and the girl moved closer, her steps light, almost graceful, as she entered his line of vision. She was rather small, standing no taller than 5”5, and harmless at first glance with her slender frame and radiant, ever-present smile. But Eva knew more than to trust a smile, especially this one who was nothing but deceptive - a mask to hide the hideous. She had long dark hair that cascaded down her shoulders, framing a cute but bratty face with mismatched eyes — one as dark as night, the other a brilliant, unsettling golden sun — and blood splatters.

“What…” Eva breathed. 

The man’s breathing quickened as she approached, his chest rising and falling in sharp, panicked heaves. He pulled harder at his restraints in a desperate, useless struggle but it only seemed to amuse her. The broken doll-faced woman tilted her head, her smile widening and a look of near delight crossing her face as she took in his terror.  “That’s okay.” She simply said with a fake soothing tone before pulling a sharp knife out and slicing his throat before Eva had the time to bat her eyes. The strong metallic smell of blood came in a wave so strong that Eva took a few steps back with her expensive heels clicking, eyes wide open, and nausea hitting. Jack must have borne witness to the same thing judging by the instant and worried glance he gave to his wife.

“Hm?”  The killer girl said as if she suddenly remembered that other people were in the room. She finally raised her bicolor eyes towards the Mexican beauty and paused, quietly observing Eva’s face whose exquisite color had turned two shades paler with lips parted in shock. The grotesque scene in front of her didn’t make sense — even with blood on her own hands, she could never understand such unleashed cruelty. Such a bright glimmer of pleasure when inflicting pain.  Eva was frozen, but Tina’s reaction to her presence was instant: her bloodied face lit up with gleeful recognition and her wicked grin turned into an innocent smile. She lifted her hand; still dripping with blood, and waved cheerfully.

“Oh, hey!”  She exclaimed in a light and musical voice, as though she'd just bumped into an old friend on the street. There was no malice in her tone, no hint of the brutality she had just shown.

Eva’s heart missed a beat for the first time in a while at the dissonance between her casual, innocent demeanor and the horrors she had just witnessed. It was wrong. Wrong. So fucking wrong, even for her. After all, she wasn’t a good person but she wasn’t…That. 

And “that”  was a whole other level. “That” was the kind of monster who could not be bribed, not be stopped. An abomination that no money nor power could restraint. 

And “that”?

That was Tina. 

tag: @runnning-outof-time, @evita-shelby, @peakyswritings

[choicesficwriterscreations]

June MC of the Month: Eva Archer

Please welcome June 2024's MC of the Month: @dutifullynuttywitch's Eva Archer

Each month, we highlight one MC or OC on our Meet My MC / OC List. They are selected randomly on the Wheel of Names, and eligibility requirements can be found here. We accept MC / OC profiles on an ongoing basis. Please feel free to send yours in!

Learn more about Eva below

1- In your own words, tell us what you like most about your MC / OC.

She’s an idealist, preoccupied by social justice. While at the Tower, she constantly fought the authoritarian leaders, which resulted in her and her sister needing to flee so she wouldn't ‘get disappeared’. Now that she’s leading her own colony, she is still trying to find the right balance, ensuring everyone’s voice is heard and feels welcomed.

2- Do you feel your MC / OC is like you at all? How are you alike or different?

I think we both lean towards social justice and fairness in our decision-making. And I definitely gave her some of my musical tastes! (Though I have more grunge and alternative in my repertoire.)

But other than that, Eva is much cooler than I could ever hope to be!! 🙂 She’s a fighter, brave, willing to put her life on the line for others.

3- What is most important to your MC / OC? What is their motivation in life?

Eva is not the bravest, but she is fiercely loyal to her friends. Being forced to leave her fatally injured sister Brynn, her only family, behind after narrowly escaping The Tower was the hardest thing she’d ever done. It left her deeply scarred. She refuses to lose anyone else she's close to and will put her own life on the line if she can save her friends or members of her colony.

Her friendship and frequent quests with Eli and Angel help her gradually feel more confident in her fighting skills. As a leader of the newly established Olympus Colony, she speaks up against injustices and tries to be conciliatory. What are their biggest pet peeves/dislikes?

She despises cruel, self-centered people. Unfortunately there are too many in her post-apocalyptic world, who will do anything, kill anyone just to survive a day longer.

While she generally loves Troy’s easy-going attitude, she absolutely loses her temper when he shirks on his chores - which he unfortunately does regularly.

4- If your MC / OC could change one thing - anything - what would it be?

She would find a cure for the parasite that converts people into zombies. She’s in no way a scientist, but she wholeheartedly supports her best friend Shannon Fox in her ongoing investigations.

5- What is your MC / OC’s favorite quote or song?

Wild Horses, The Rolling Stones.

It’s a bittersweet reaction, really, having lost both of her fathers in a horrible way (one became a zombie and killed his husband), and more recently her sister. She holds on dearly to the lyrics that “wild horses couldn’t keep me away”. It’s how she feels about Troy, and her friends Eli, Shannon, Angel, little May…

Her favorite quote is more inspirational: “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.” – Emily Dickinson

6- Is there anything else you’d like to share about your MC / OC?

I adored the Choices book Wake the Dead. Such an interesting, dark concept, where your choices matter, with tons of potential for world-building… I wanted to create a character that had lived through terrible things, resulting in deep-seated trauma, but at the same time could see the light in the world and continue to strive to better her life and that of those around her. This is how Eva was born!

7- Other facts about Eva

Eva was born close to Reno, Nevada before the zombie apocalypse.

She previously worked in pest control from the age of 18, then became a scout at 25 at her former colony, The Tower.

Eva is dating Troy Hassan, her childhood best friend from her Tower days. This was a slow burn, friendship to love. Troy’s an absolute charmer, knows her better than anyone and is her emotional support. He’s much more carefree, which brings out her lighter side – necessary with all the stress and pressures of running a colony during an apocalypse!

She dearly misses her sister Brynn, who died shortly after escaping the tower. Eva admired her fierceness and how she bravely ventured out as a scout every day to support the colony. Eva hopes to become as tough as her sister.

Thank you so much for reading through my MC profile, I had a blast sharing Eva Archer with you!! And thank you @choicesficwriterscreation for giving us the space to gush about our fictional babies!!

[comicarc]

AO3 - @comicarc

𝕯𝕮

𝒟𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝒢𝓇𝒶𝓎𝓈𝑜𝓃

☆ What is Robin?

What does Robin represent and what impact has it left on those who took the mantle? wc: 393

☆ Desires

Nightwing has had many victories, some small and some big, but when he looks back on his life, he realizes he's never really won. All he's really done is make excuses to keep himself from being happy. wc: 369

𝒥𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃 𝒯𝑜𝒹𝒹

☆ Memories (w/ reader)

Just a walk down memory lane. I just haven’t found many fics about Jason before he was killed, so I thought I’d write one. wc: 1182

☆ We'll Go Back to Strangers (w/ reader) (𝐈, 𝐈𝐈)

"We'll get in your car and you'll lean to kiss me, we'll talk for hours and lie on the backseat."

☆ Hell is Empty and the Devil is Here (w/ reader)

A chance meeting with a stranger leads down the road of an inevitable devotion. Breeding a childish love into an obsessive attachment. The devil's temptation is all-consuming, only producing pain disguised as pleasure. wc: 2906

𝐵𝒶𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓃 - 𝐵𝓇𝓊𝒸𝑒 𝒲𝒶𝓎𝓃𝑒

☆ Symbols (w/ reader)

This is short and more like a breakdown of what Batman is with a sweet twist. wc: 497

☆ I Dreamt of Heaven (w/ reader)

(Act 1) 𝐈, 𝐈𝐈, 𝐈𝐈𝐈, 𝐈𝐕, 𝐕, 𝐕𝐈, 𝐕𝐈𝐈, 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

(Act 2) 𝐈𝐗, 𝐗, 𝐗𝐈, 𝐗𝐈𝐈, 𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈, ...

"A lonely moon craving for the radiant sun." In which a certain girl catches the attention of a prideful billionaire playboy as they both attempt to find their way in the world. (I haven't seen many fics explore Bruce in his formative years, so I thought I'd share my take on them, of course with romance.)

𝒲𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒲𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃 - 𝒟𝒾𝒶𝓃𝒶 𝒫𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒

☆ Moirai (𝐈, 𝐈𝐈, 𝐈𝐈𝐈)

Fate is a fickle thing and it seems to hate Diana. As the three sisters of fate weave the thread that is the Princess' life, Diana learns that hope can emerge in even the darkest of corners and that death is only the beginning. As she confronts her haunting past, she realizes what it truly means to be a hero. (Sort of a character study, with plot, of Wonder Woman as she discovers what it means to live as a human and live among other mighty heroes.)

𝕽𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝕰𝖛𝖎𝖑

𝐿𝑒𝑜𝓃 𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒𝒹𝓎

♤ Guns and Roses (w/ reader)

A take on what happened to Claire, Leon, and Sherry after the Raccoon City incident where they meet the reader. wc: 2010

♤ Undead Curse (𝐈, 𝐈𝐈, 𝐈𝐈𝐈, 𝐈𝐕, 𝐕, 𝐕𝐈, ...)

Where our beauty is Claire Redfield and our beast is Leon Kennedy, both learn what it means to love and feel heartache as they navigate their lives as a prisoner and a dying cursed prince. (A heavily inspired Beauty and the Beast rendition but with a twist)

𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖘

𝒪𝓅𝓉𝒾𝓂𝓊𝓈 𝒫𝓇𝒾𝓂𝑒 or 𝑀𝑒𝑔𝒶𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓃

♡ Turmoil of a Heart (OC but can be read as x reader)

(𝐈, 𝐈𝐈, 𝐈𝐈𝐈, 𝐈𝐕, ...)

Eva just wanted to escape Jasper after she graduated high school, but recent circumstances have made it seem like an impossible endeavor. She's seen things she shouldn't have, heard things that should never be said, and felt things she should never feel. Maybe she'll make it out on top, or drown from the hauntings of her past. or An inside look into every character of TFP, their grief, struggle, past and present, through the eyes of my OC (with a little romance). *TW for abuse, phycological and physical trauma, kidnapping & death*

[drabbles-mc]

Interruptions

Angel Reyes & OC Evangeline Reyes & Ezekiel Reyes Franky Rogan x OC Evangeline Reyes

Warnings: 18+, pining, language, this really is just a fluffy little something

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: For my next trick! I will pull out of my bag of wonders a character that the show-runners seemed to have forgotten about but I sure didn't! 😂 Shout-out to Franky Rogan- I hope he's doing okay lmao. I'm not really planning on turning this into a multi-chap per se, but I do plan on just writing some snippets/one-shots that all exist in this universe. This is our first look into this au, but definitely not the last if I have anything to say about it 😂 Enjoy! xo

As far as Evangeline was concerned, there was no real reason for Angel and EZ to be in her shop. She’d told them as much about five minutes after they’d walked in and started causing more ruckus than she wanted to be dealing with. She tried to shoo them away, tried to get them to pop one more door down to go and bother their father instead, but they weren’t budging.

Angel was sitting on one of the chairs by the dressing room and EZ was standing off to the side of the sewing machine that she was currently using. Angel was gawking around at everything as though he didn’t stop by every week, and EZ was studying over her shoulder like he was thinking of becoming the next family seamstress. If the shop had belonged to anyone else, the two of them never would have bothered to set foot inside. Not to mention if the shop had belonged to anyone else, they would’ve barred the two of them from entry ages ago.

“I can feel your breath on my neck,” she said, sounding annoyed for a split second before she started laughing.

EZ chuckled, stepping back and instead starting to pace around the shop. “Sorry.”

“Vete—go be sorry somewhere else. You’re gonna scare people off before they even set foot in here.”

Angel shook his head dismissively. “C’mon, Eva. Don’t think of it like that. Think of it like…we’re like protection, you know?”

Head still angled down at the pantleg she was hemming, her eyes lifted just enough to look over at her brother. “What, you two in the mob now too? MC wasn’t enough?” She shook her head and looked back down at the garment draped over the machine. “Protection,” she mocked. “Who you guys gonna protect me from, anyway? The high school girls coming in for me to tailor their prom dresses?”

EZ laughed as he watched his two older siblings go back and forth. “I don’t know,” he chimed in. “Think those girls might have Angel out-gunned.”

He sucked his teeth. “Fuck both you guys.”

She finally leaned back in her chair, taking her foot completely off the sewing machine pedal. “If you’d left when I told you to, you wouldn’t have to be going through this.”

Angel was finally laughing with her and EZ. “Nah, you know if we never stopped by you’d—” He stopped mid-sentence and stood up from his chair when he saw a police patrol car pull up to the curb right in front of Evangeline’s shop. “What the fuck is this?”

Evangeline mirrored his actions, standing up and carefully draping the pants she’d been working on back over the hanger she’d took them off before she had company. The tailoring job for them was a quick one, or at least it would be once her brothers left and she could actually do her job. She ran her hands over the fabric of her own pants, smoothing them out before looking out the window to see whatever it was that had elicited that reaction from Angel.

She laughed when she saw the cop car parked out front. “Oh, good. Maybe someone will finally be able to make you leave. You think if I ask real nice they’ll give me a couple pairs of cuffs specifically for you two?”

EZ was smiling and shaking his head at his sister, but then when he saw that Franky was the officer getting out of the car, both he and Angel became way more amused than they were annoyed at the cops being there. “Oh,” EZ said with a nod, “yeah I’m pretty sure he’ll give you whatever you want.”

Angel was on the brink of cackling as he nudged his sister’s shoulder. “He’ll give you a pair of cuffs as long as you promise to use them on him just once.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t stand either of you sometimes. I hope he knocks your bikes over,” Evangeline muttered with a tiny smile as she moved away from her little brother and went back behind the desk where the cash register was.

There were only a couple seconds between Franky shutting the door to the patrol car and him walking into the small boutique that Evangeline owned, but it was long enough. Angel was sitting back down again, this time just in a different chair that was towards the front of the store. He was leaning back, practically sinking into the soft cushions of it. His legs were spread farther apart than necessary, one hand on one knee, his other on the arm of the chair that he was sitting in. Meanwhile EZ was standing behind his brother’s seat, hands holding onto the edges of his kutte—his default these days.

Evangeline was looking at both of them with a mildly amused look on her face. It looked like they were pulled right out of a movie or a cartoon—stereotypical goons trying to look tough and not quite hitting the mark but they didn’t realize it yet. Her attention shifted off them when the soft chimes above her door signaled Franky’s entry.

He stepped inside, immediately looking around and greeting her with a casual, “Hey, Evangeline,” as he did. He looked at Angel and EZ, seeing the image they were trying to put off and also not being overly convinced by it. When it was just the two of them separate from the rest of the club, they weren’t nearly as intimidating. It was hard to be scared of the same boys he went to school with. He’d known them long enough to know that whatever macho act they were putting on, really was just an act. They had the same look in their eyes that they did back then when they were about to cause trouble after school.

It didn’t take long at all for his gaze to land on Evangeline, the real and only reason he’d even pulled up to the shop at all. She was standing behind the counter, leaning forward onto it so that her elbows were propped onto the wood and her chin rested on top of her interlocked fingers. Her hair was pulled back out of her face, a convenience style when she was using the sewing machine, but there was one unruly lock that had managed to escape and it was hanging just enough to the side so that her face wasn’t obscured at all. She smiled at him, head tilting slightly as it rested in her hands.

He'd known Angel and EZ for most of his life, and it made it hard to find them intimidating these days. In the same vein, he’d known Evangeline for almost his whole life too. Only instead of that fact making her less intimidating, it almost made her more intimidating—it was a different kind of intimidating than her brothers were aiming for, but still. Sure, it’d been so long since high school, and they were all such different people now in a lot of ways, but sometimes when she was looking at him like that Franky still felt like he was the dorky kid in class who was a little in love with his friend’s older sister. They were older now and he was much less dramatic than the teenage version of him had been. In love was an overstatement these days of course. Not that the semantics of it all really mattered in moments like the one he was in.

“Something I can do for you, Officer Rogan?” she finally asked, proving one more time over that she was the only Reyes sibling who could address him as such without using any sarcasm.

He turned so that he was completely facing her, purposely ignoring the looks he was getting from her two younger brothers. He shook his head as he walked over to her, standing on the opposite side fo the counter from her. “No. Just making the rounds and thought I’d stop by.”

She hummed in amusement as she stood upright again. “Got it. Thought your ears might’ve been burning somewhere out there.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You talkin’ about me?”

She laughed and shrugged. “Was talking about getting someone to throw these two,” she nodded towards her brothers, “out of my shop. And then you rolled up.”

“Yeah,” Angel chimed in from where he was still sitting, “like an answer to all your prayers, right?”

Evangeline shot her brother a look. “An answer to one of them, at least.”

Franky turned and looked at Angel and EZ. “You know it’s bad when even your own sister is waiting for you two to get picked up.”

Angel stood up out of his chair. In two easy strides he put himself right in front of Franky. There was just enough of a height difference for Franky to have to tilt his head to look Angel directly in the eyes. It was something that would never stop amusing Angel in any close encounters the two of them had.

“I bet you’d be real happy to do that for her, huh, Officer?” he goaded.

Evangeline was standing, arms crossed over her chest as she shook her head at the two of them. EZ was watching her just as intently as he was watching his brother and Franky. The scene was amusing from every angle for different reasons. And, as much as he would’ve loved to see how far Angel was going to take things, he liked his sister too much to let it happen in the middle of her shop. It was one thing when they were at the clubhouse, or Vicky’s. But not here.

“C’mon, Angel,” EZ inserted himself into the conversation, “let’s go. Pop still needs help with the compressor anyway.”

Evangeline cut a small sigh of relief, flashing EZ the quickest of smiles to thank him. “Yeah,” she agreed, “go make yourselves useful somewhere. Por favor. I’m begging.”

She was half expecting Franky and Angel to crash shoulders as the two Reyes boys made their way to the door, but they didn’t. Franky did manage to get the last word in with them, though. Rebutting Angel’s, “Stay safe, Officer,” with an easy, “I’m sure I’ll see you two soon. With the lights and sirens on.”

The door chimed again to signal the two of them leaving. Through the glass windows that made up the storefront, she and Franky were able to watch as the two of them made their way next door to their father’s shop. They were both shaking their heads at the pair of brothers, but for very different reasons.

“Nice to see you boys all getting along still,” Evangeline joked once they were out of sight.

Franky laughed as he put his attention back on her again. “Saying that like I’m the one who started any of that.”

She shook her head as she made her way around so that they were both on the same side of the counter. She leaned back against it, crossing her arms once more out of habit. “That’s not what I said.”

He watched as she crossed one leg over the other, the bright silky fabric of her pants distracting for only a moment before his gaze traveled back up to her face. He saw her knowing smirk and he cleared his throat, hands resting on his belt as he looked down at the floor for a second before getting himself together again.

“They give all the cops that hard of a time? Or just me?”

She laughed. “No one has an easy time with those two…” she trailed off for a moment before continuing, “but yeah you get it a little worse.” She saw the incredulous look on his face and she couldn’t pretend that there wasn’t something endearing about it. “C’mon, Franky. I know you were all friends in school but, you know, they grew up and became members of a motorcycle club. And you grew up and became a narc.”

He laughed, placing one hand on his chest. “Ouch, damn.”

She shook her head as she laughed right along with him. “Their words, not mine.”

They shared another quiet laugh about it before the conversation hit a pause. The only noise in the shop was the music playing from the speakers scattered around, a playlist the Evangeline changed from day to day depending on the mood she was in. Franky looked down at the floor, then around the shop, and then back at the woman standing next to him. He didn’t know for sure but he was fairly certain that she’d been watching him the entire time.

“Talk to me, Rookie,” she said, gently nudging his shoulder with her own. “What’s going on?”

That got him to chuckle. “Evangeline, I told you, I haven’t been a rookie in—”

“Franky, I told you, it’s not gonna make me stop calling you that.” She smiled. “I remember when you were slugging your way through the academy, before they got stupid enough to give you a gun,” she joked. “You’re always gonna be a rookie to me.”

“Almost as hurtful as your brothers callin’ me a narc.” There was a brief pause and he cleared his throat. “I really was just checking in. I think they told me that something about this job has to do with protecting and serving or some shit like that.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I heard the rumors.” Reaching back, she took her hair out of the loose, messy ponytail that she’d thrown it into earlier in the day. She continued to speak as the long, loose waves of hair fell down around her shoulders. “I appreciate you checking in. I’m alright, though. All quiet on the strip.”

“’Til your brothers get here.”

She cracked a smile. “Yeah, ‘til my brothers get here.”

He stepped away from the counter and reached into his pocket for his keys. “I’ll let you get back to work then. Don’t wanna be another distraction.”

Her smile was warm as she shook her head at him. “Very considerate of you.”

He stepped backwards towards the door. “Call if you need anything.”

“911 still a good number to reach you at?”

He grinned. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

She was laughing, mostly to herself, as he turned and let himself back out of the shop. She watched as he went back to his patrol car, noticing how he shook his head at her brother’s bikes on the way. There was a split second when she thought she was going to get exactly what she’d asked for earlier, that he was going to knock them over. But of course he didn’t, not looking to kick up that kind of trouble.

By the time that EZ and Angel came back over to her shop, Evangeline had not only finished altering the pants that she’d been working on earlier when they’d stopped in, but also taken care of another pair in between customers filtering in and out. She considered it a successful day, and the shop wasn’t even closed yet. Judging by the looks on Angel and EZ’s faces, she wasn’t sure if they’d had the same amount of success she did.

“Compressor got you beat?” she asked.

Angel scoffed. “Fuck no. We fixed that shit.”

She looked over at EZ. “Did you really?”

He flashed a grin. “Limping it along until the new one comes in.”

Angel’s head dropped back and he let out a dramatic sigh. “Dude, what the fuck?” He ignored the way that they were both laughing as he focused on his sister again. “So, what’d Rent-A-Cop want, anyway? Y’know, besides your hand in marriage.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes. “He was just checking in.”

Angel scoffed. “Yeah, gotta make sure his precious Evangeline is all good over here.”

She tilted her head. “Why are you saying my name like that?”

Angel gestured to the curb even though Franky’s car was long gone. “That’s how he fuckin’ says it! Swear to God, ‘mana, I haven’t heard that guy refer to you as Eva since he was like, twelve.”

Evangeline laughed. “How dare he call me by my actual name.”

“You know what I mean,” he shot right back, attempting to sound more annoyed than he really was.

She tried to divert the conversation rather than going deeper down whatever rabbit-hole Angel was trying to drag them down. “Why are you guys still here, anyway? Don’t you have motorcycle business to attend to? Parties to throw, windows to smash, all that fun stuff.”

“Party’s tomorrow,” Angel replied with a shrug. “You should come through.” He nodded towards EZ. “Prospect is playing barback.”

Evangeline laughed and nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

The two of them hugged her, taking her gentle cue to get going. Angel pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “Just don’t bring the narc as your plus-one.”

She laughed as she pushed him towards the door, but chose not to acknowledge his last comments. “Be careful out there.” She waited until the door to chime shut behind them before she muttered a quiet, “Pendejos,” to herself and got back to work.

Mayans Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added!):

@garbinge @withmyteeth @darqchilddaydreamz @artemiseamoon @proceduralpassion

@fanfic-n-tabulous @danzer8705 @justreblogginfics @cositapreciosa @narcolini

[cloveroctobers]

TURN THE TV ON — RICHIE JERIMOVICH [Summer Writings]

A/N: Continuing the relationship between Richie x oc (Freya) from a previous summer prompt here. This season ofc was a lot (when is it not?) although many felt like it was missing something I think that was the point of the season to be frustratingly lost or stuck because it’s about subtracting like Carmy said. The removal of a already built foundation to get to the potential of greatness. At what cost though? We’re seeing it.

I can say it’s not my favorite season but I’ve picked up on what I think they’re trying to do and we all know “Napkins” + “Ice Chips” were the best of this season—some might disagree with ice chips and wanted that wrapped up in five minutes but it’s significant to explore Nat’s struggle with motherhood and her as a character. Everything is always in glimpses with the Berzatto’s upbringing. Nat’s part of the bear as well, physically and figuratively—more than ever now. Anyways you didn’t see this with the intent of a mini analysis thrown in but that’s just my two cents! I also enjoyed seeing richie bond with Eva 🥹, Nat and Syd. I expected the fallout with him and Carm though, Carmen’s really showing his ass!!! :/

WARNINGS: language, falling into a slump, blocking out emotions, a mention of Palestine, mentions of c*ncer & a mention of an intimate moment between the two characters.

*GIF BELONGS TO: @sharpesjoy !

<- read my previous anthology piece here.

⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧

Freya doesn’t blink twice when Richie latches onto her elbow, gaining her attention in her kitchen. His voice is muffled as she slightly turns her head to him, watching his mouth move but not picking up on the words just yet.

She keeps her gaze on Richie as he reaches over her to turn the knob to the stove off. When Freya brings her gaze back to the burnt paper in the frying pan, she realizes what she’s been up to for however long she’s been standing in front of the stove.

“Frey,” Richie coughs, fanning the air some, then letting his hand slip to the middle of her back, “what’s going on?”

Her eyes have been dry for the past few weeks, that over the counter drops did not do her any justice and she couldn’t see a doctor since her insurance through her lackluster job was now over. However after finally hearing Richie’s voice and blinking, it feels like a storm is coming behind those dark eyes.

In due time but not today.

“Your uh, friend? Bahja I think? Reached out to me, said she hasn’t heard from you in a couple of days.” Richie continues while the woman breathes, dragging her eyes away from the pan to turn back to the table in the center of the kitchen.

Richie watches her, as she almost springs back into action, rearranging the placement mats on the table, the utensils, and center decor piece before pushing the maple chairs in as if they weren’t in as a far as they could go.

“Freya!” Richie snaps, making the woman sharply lift her eyes to his face, he was never one for patience and seeing her like this felt like a distant reminder of when they first met, “what is it?”

Freya scoffs out some laughter, folding her arms and placing her clef chin into her shoulder while trying to find the words, “…where do you want me to start?”

He leans back against the counter, clasping his hands in front of him, “start with you serving paper for dinner?”

“Those are letters from Jayden.” She informs before pulling her bottom lip in while Richie widens his eyes, “he’s got cancer and he doesn’t have much longer according to his doctors. He put me on the list, tells me he’s never taken me off. A invitation to see my abuser, before they deport him back to Portugal to finish out his last months of life. Isn’t that lovely?”

Richie lets that soak in.

He didn’t know what this poor excuse piece of shit of a person was thinking honestly. Jayden had a lot of nerve and Richie was tempted to take a visit himself. Richie can tell that it was taking a toll on his friend. She doesn’t appear as if she’s been sleeping, her usual wing lined eyes were not in motion, bare and skin rimmed red and he’s been so caught up in his own shit that he couldn’t remember the last time she’s even responded to anything he’s sent her way. He just assumed Freya was busy but she was the kind of person who didn’t just disappear, not when they just got back on track after richie was too much in his head about where they took their friendship.

He still remembered what her moans sounded like and he knows he has no business thinking about it, alright!

Not when she was the person he told what Carmy said to him instead of keeping it to himself. He went into detail with Freya and just dropped crumbs in the group chat.

Not when she’s met Tiffany and Frank.

And especially not when Tiffany gave her stamp of approval, although Richie didn’t ask for it or expect Tiffany to show up after Freya was dropping something off to his apartment.

After losing Michael, Richie vowed to pay more attention his friends.

“Mum’s not talking to me again since she’s not getting any more funds from me, talked my sibs out of coming here to spend Amina’s birthday with me, and I got fired thanks to my views on Palestine and participating in protests.” Freya informed the taller blue eyed man.

He rubs his own face in frustration with her, “well, fuck. Why? Why didn’t you tell me any of this sooner instead of me dumping all my shit with pacifier wearing Carmy on you?”

“It’s not your problem.” Freya shrugged and it’s not like Richie went into a whole turmoil about what happened that night either. It was so clear he was angry, hurt, and even being passive-aggressive about the situation.

So she left her shoulder open, as always.

Richie furrows his brows at that, pushing off the counter, “are you kidding me?! Don’t say that shit to me, okay? Anything that involves you is my problem, you’re important too Frey.”

Freya gives a small smile, feeling the weight of emotions being worn on her face then and if she had any more tears left to cry she would. She’s a sniffing mess and would blame it on sinuses if she was out in public, digging her knuckles into her burning eyes with no tears; to save those feelings for when she’s alone.

Richie’s rubbing and squeezing at her shoulders while Freya is taking that moment to herself. She ends up staring at the brash man asking, “so uh, tell me about Ever. Sorry about bailing by the way.”

He asked her to come with him two days before the funeral, she didn’t pick up his call so he knew a text would do, figuring she was at work and not going back and forth with HR over wrongful termination.

“After everything that you’ve been keeping to yourself? I don’t blame you, kid.” Richie responds while Freya lets out a humorless laugh, “enough about me…what are you going to do?”

Freya lifts her shoulders as she glanced to her left where her living room sits, “what I’ve been doing…taking time to figure it out. People take all the time so I guess now it’s my turn.”

Richie feels like he should know what this means, wondering if this will lead to a sense of better direction for his friend or worse. She’s always been soft hearted and that certainly wasn’t a bad thing but she felt closed off right now—almost cold and Richie began to wonder if he should have checked in earlier.

“Stop that,” she snaps her fingers at Richie seeing the guilt in his eyes, “I’m responsible for my own life. I’ll get through this whenever the time is right…just have to feel it for a bit, ‘tis all.”

Leaning forward, she tucks her head underneath Richie’s chin and he doesn’t hesitate to move his hands to lock against her lower back, resting his cheek right on top her now chopped dark hair. The embrace feels nice, right and says that no matter what jar of emotions spilled, they still had each other.

Freya deeply exhaled, eyes closed as she numbs it all out, almost sinking into Richie’s frame as if she’s ready to clock out of the world for at least a few hours instead of feeling it melt away from her. Pulling back she fixes the scarf on her head and heads over to her couch, tucking a leg underneath her before gazing at the black tv and not liking the smidge of a reflection of herself on the black screen, she reaches for the remote and turns the tv on.

Her eyes are in front of her but uses her free hand to pat the cushions for Richie to join her.

He’s in dark attire: a black t-shirt and a gold chain with dark blue washed jeans but as good as Freya knew the older man, he probably kept an extra black blazer in his car somewhere. The suits and blazers were a good look on Richie, gave him a sense of purpose and professionalism—never snobby—while still holding a welcoming nature in his bright blue hues and gestures to strangers.

Freya was no stranger.

It’s the same when he plops down beside her though with a groan, lanky long limbs stretched out in front of him as he folds his hands on top of his growing hair. He also turns to the tv, watching as Freya loads some app to play a movie.

Richie reads the title of choice out loud, “The Umbrellas of Cherbourg…is this one of those sappy musical movies you’re into?”

“Are you judging me Richard Lawrence? Do I grill you when go into your deep dives of Sci-Fi?” Freya points the remote at Richie, with slits in her eyes, making Richie raise his hands in surrender.

“Damn, I can’t ask questions, Freya Freyay Mazari?” He says in a mocking tone, throwing a nickname in place of if she had a middle name would be while Freya rolls her eyes, shuffling over to toss a pillow in his lap before laying her head there.

Richie shakes his head at the woman before bringing his attention back to the screen. The open credits are filled with the sound of flutes and the sunset over a water town, followed by a shot of cobblestone, people walking and the vibrant shades of umbrellas popping open as rain pattered over their heads.

“…Tiff says I should bring you to the wedding.” Richie interrupts as the credits drag on.

Freya curls her feet up and nuzzles her face against her folded hands she’s laying against, “yeah? The one you still won’t RSVP to?”

Richie scoffs, “I’m gonna!”

“When? It’s in September.”

“…how do you know that?” There’s a scowl on the bearded man’s face.

“Oh Tiffany and I are tight.” The British woman tells, “Ever since we first met back at your flat, accidentally. Apparently her and Frank sent me requests on Facebook not too long ago but I wasn’t sure if Frank was thee Frank you referred to and I really didn’t expect him to look like that so I accepted Tiffany’s first before getting confirmation.” Freya rants while richie pinched at the space in between his brows.

Frank’s request was still pending on Richie’s account and Frank never brought it up when they were face to face. It’s not like Richie would lie if the guy ever did bring it up. He personally had enough of Frank whenever he saw Tiffany’s profile picture when she commented on whatever post Richie decided to share to his two-hundred and six “friends.” Frank was kissing her cheek, her hand holding onto his shoulder, oval rock on her finger was shining as she gently smiled at the camera.

Tiffany deserved happiness, this Richie knew, he was just numbing it down until the feeling was gone.

“I’ll RSVP if you agree to be my plus one, you fucking crumpet.” Richie lifts his hips, making Freya complain now that he was ruining her comfortability, only for a second as he pulled out his phone.

Freya debates, “now I dunno if I want to when you just insulted me.”

“What?” Richie unlocks his phone, “crumpet is a cute nickname! A loving term of endearment! You won’t teach me any Arabic anyway so that’s your fault.”

Freya just hums as she tries to focus on the tv.

It’s gone quiet besides the clacking from Richie’s phone as he goes through his texts, trying to find the old link Tiffany sent him. The tv continues playing its dream-like music and Freya even starts to feel her eyes close until Richie grabs her hip, pulling so that she can see the invitation right in front of her face.

“You’ll go with me?” His eyes quickly go from her lips then to her own eyes.

And she looks into his eyes, knowing that it’s genuine, that he wants her there beside him, needs her there with him. Freya knows the man isn’t too proud to beg and they never pity each other.

“Go on and save the date then, yeah? So I can get back to my movie.” She teases with a wave of her hand, the faded henna on her fingers were still noticeable and pretty. She tucks that same hand underneath her face again, turning back to the screen.

Richie deeply exhaled, tossing his phone to the side after tapping on the screen to lock in his new spot—officially being a ex-husband—as he lets this action finally sink in. He was going to watch his ex-wife love someone else for however many years the creator upstairs allowed.

Yet he wouldn’t feel as alone this time.

He pinches Freya’s cheeks together, her complaints were ignored as he pressed a lingering scratchy kiss to her cheek, “thank you, Kochanie. There is that better?”

Usually part of Richie’s native tongue was only reserved for his baby girl, Eva. Most of the time insults were his way of showing his love and Freya was no different, regardless of how sensitive she often was.

Freya uses the sleeve of her beige zip up hoodie to wipe some of the saliva off her cheek, “I guess? No need to thank me, that’s what mates are for, babe.”

Mates.

Something Richie wanted because he knew he wasn’t over Tiffany and knew he wasn’t when his mouth went to work on Freya’s lower region back during that freezing winter. However he was positive that Tiffany wasn’t in his head when they did that they did. The pair came to an understanding back in July and leaving each other alone wasn’t the answer.

He also knew what Freya deserved but he’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t be crushed if she hit him up one day to tell him that she found someone else too.

So he lets one hand rest on her hip, absentmindedly caressing the bone while flicking his attention to the tv.

Until the feeling is gone.

If ever.

⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧⋆𖧧

Continue with my summer anthology writings & prompts here.

[angelicadamposting]

EvaVal 🎀❣️ | Sometimes۶ৎ

art credit to @nattycat08 <3

tw // cw — implied ab*se (?)

Sometimes Valentino was good. Sometimes he showered ‘his Eva’ with gifts, carrying her around and taking her on shopping sprees. Sometimes he complimented her. Sometimes he’d defend her, stand up for her. Sometimes she stayed in his bed all night instead of returning to her room… Until Eva wasn’t his ‘fun girl’ anymore.

Sometimes Eva Lean was tired. Sometimes she wasn’t in the mood to film or dance. Sometimes she just wanted to smoke and sleep. That… ‘sometimes’ slowly, after years upon years, turned into ‘most of the time.’ Val began to choose new favorites.. and Eva moved into the Hazbin Hotel.

She still worked for Valentino, even while living away from him now — much like her friend and coworker Angel Dust. However… Val still had a way to tug at her heartstrings. His sweet words, lying or not, could always pull her back in. The fact he made her scars never visible in any photo shoots or videos posted of her was just one of the many small ways he continued to hold power over her, making her feel as if she was special in some way — that he’d take such an effort to keep her secret… But perhaps, in reality, he just liked being the only one to know about her past in heaven. It made her dependent on him, no? And was that such a bad thing?

[zablife]

The Last Supper

Requested by @evita-shelby for my 2K celebration An Evening at Arrow House. Warning: This is a dark fic 💀

A/N: Eva Shelby is an OC belonging to @evita-shelby. She is the new Mrs. Shelby in this fic instead of Y/n. Guest list for this party: Darby Sabini, Alfie Solomons, Michael and Gina Gray, Jack Nelson.

“Are you ready for tonight, my love?” Eva asked, straightening Tommy’s bow tie. She studied his face for any sign of hesitation or anxiety. His family had been cruel in recent weeks, unaccepting of his choice to marry a foreign woman they’d never met. Eva could have cared less what they thought, focused only on her new husband and the unique bond they shared. However, she worried about his fragile mental state, the breakdown which caused him to flee the UK less than a year ago still too fresh to be tested by caustic relatives and duplicitous business associates.

Tommy grasped her hands and kissed the inside of her wrists tenderly. “I’ll be fine as long as I have you. I only need you,” he reminded her. Eva inhaled deeply, a sense of love and devotion overwhelming her. In her whole life there had only been one man who stirred these emotions within her. Sometimes the need to protect him frightened her, the deeds she would be capable of without compunction. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him toward her in a searing kiss. 

“I love you, Tommy,” she murmured against his lips.

“I never doubt that, Evie,” he replied, with a squeeze to her hip. 

———————

Eva had spared no expense for their dinner party, a footman for every guest, the finest wine and carefully planned menu were all part of her plan to create an unforgettable evening. In an attempt to recreate the meal over which Tommy had proposed in Paris, she even hired a French chef. Not everyone knew how to prepare ortolan and it had to be done correctly as it was to be the pinnacle of the meal.

Satisfied that the cocktail hour had passed without incident, Eva sat listening to the ebb and flow of conversation at the dinner table. She busied herself watching those gathered before her, ensuring their comfort like any good host. When the waiters finally placed the next course before Tommy’s carefully chosen family members and associates, gasps could be heard echoing through the room. Some murmured whispers of confusion and others of mild disgust at the cadaverous little golden bird at the center of their plate.

Michael, who was seated next to Tommy, was the first to voice a complaint. “She couldn’t have served a roast?” he spat.

Tommy smirked at his cousin’s reaction to the dish, a gentle shake of his head indicating that wasn’t how his wife operated. “That’s my Evie. She’s quite unique,” he boasted.

Suddenly Eva’s voice rose above the din. She straightened regally in her chair at the end of the table like a queen holding court as she explained her unusual choice. “It’s ortolan, a most sinful delicacy I thought all of you might enjoy. Would you like to know why they're so delicious?” she asked no one in particular. Her lips curled into a devilish smile that left her companions shifting uncomfortably in their seats as she continued. "They capture these tiny creatures and force them into darkness where they gorge themselves on grain and figs. When they’ve doubled in size, they’re drowned in Armagnac and roasted whole.”

Thoroughly unimpressed, Gina scrunched her nose at the sight of her food before rolling her eyes. “I suppose they eat this vile sort of thing in Mexico?”

Eva’s jaw clenched momentarily, eyes flicking up to meet Gina’s as the candlelight reflecting in her irises seemed to mirror the fire inside her. “I told you, it’s French and very exclusive. Try it,” she insisted through clenched teeth.

“It’s true, it's quite rare. People are lucky to taste it even once,” Tommy explained.

“And how is it that Thomas Shelby is fortunate enough to have tasted this delicacy twice in one lifetime? Isn’t that a bit gluttonous?” Darby Sabini asked, his prominent lisp making his last word sound particularly accusatory.

“You would speak of my husband’s greed at his own dinner table?” Eva asked with raised eyebrow, moments away from telling everyone in the room what she knew of his own cupidity and egotism.

A booming laugh came from further down the table as Alfie Solomons exclaimed, “Fuck me, a bloody parrot on a plate! Well, I'll give it a go. How do we eat this, dove?” he asked, gathering his knife and fork with gusto.

“You pick it up by the head like so and eat it feet first,” Eva demonstrated, wincing slightly at the scalding temperature before delicately placing it back on her dish. “When the bones begin to crack ever so delicately in your mouth, the fat will mix with the delicious flavor of the organs on your tongue. There’s nothing like it,” she assured him.

“That’s monstrous!” Gina cried, staring at her host in horror.

Eva grinned wickedly. “Don’t worry, that’s what the napkin is for. To drape over your head to hide your face from God.”

“Can’t say it’s the worst I’ve ever done,” Jack Nelson chuckled as he grasped his napkin in his right hand, ready to accept the gruesome challenge.

“Exactemente,” Eva said with an encouraging nod of her head. “On my count everyone,” she said, manicured hand reaching for her own napkin as she gave a wink to Tommy. She counted down from five as she watched her hesitant guests fumble slightly, a few nervous glances exchanged as heads disappeared quickly under the linen cloths. A rush of quick inhales permeated the air as everyone rushed the piping hot delicacy to their mouths. Eva’s muffled voice could be heard beneath her own napkin as she finished the count. “Two, one,” she said breathlessly, covering the steps of the waiting footmen behind each guest.

For a brief moment the only sound that could be heard all around her was the abrasive crunching of bones, evidence of the devoured birds and the little sin committed. Just another in a long list for these damned souls, she thought.

“Tell me what you eat and I’ll tell you what you are,” Tommy and Eva had been told in Paris when they first consumed the dish. The words echoed in Eva’s mind as she braced for the shots that rang out next, followed by the clatter of china and crystal. Removing her napkin carefully, she surveyed the lifeless bodies of her husband's enemies slumped over the table, blood seeping onto their plates through their makeshift executioner's hoods.

The assassins dressed as footmen folded their aprons as Tommy instructed, "Tell Johnny Dogs to light the fire now."

"And tell the chef to prepare the next course," Eva added before they filed out of the room.

When she was finally alone with her husband, she noted how he too still held the delicate bird in his hand, uneaten.

"Shall we?" he asked, raising his napkin invitingly.

"I don't feel ashamed, do you?" she asked, tossing the linen aside with a smile.

"No," he replied with a decisive shake of his head.

"Then let God watch," she answered, eating her ortolan in one bite.

-----------

Tag List:

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@notyour-valentine

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@helen06dreamer

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@dearshelby

@cillmequick

@call-sign-shark

@peakyltd

@brummiereader

@runnning-outof-time

@emotionalcadaver

@thegreatdragonfruta

@noforkingclue

@thomashelbyswife

[system-of-a-feather]

At this point in our recovery, I'm comfortable listing this, but the fictional sources we have introjected from at any point:

Riku (Kingdom Hearts)

Dark Riku (Kingdom Hearts)

Repliku (Kingdom Hearts)

Data Riku (Kingdom Hearts)

Riku Again, but Generalized and to the Left (Kingdom Hearts)

Riku AGAIN, but Generlized and to the Right (Kingdom Hearts)

Hollow Ichigo (Bleach)

Redacted (OC)

Redacted (OC)

Yut Lung (Banana Fish)

Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer)

Eva Roux (Code Vein)

Redacted (OC)

Redacted (OC)

Ray (Our System, not fictional but has to be added in here for lels)

I feel like I'm missing one - probably from the branch of XIV's fused parts cause dude has so fucking much, and I guess a hypothetical short lived Nero (DMC5) introject.

But I just really had to make this post cause its fucking funny how our brain just kept printing Rikus

Redacted (OC) are just because I prefer to lean on keeping those more on the private end since two of them are from a story I plan to turn into a comic and the other two I'm keeping with consistency.

This post is more than ok to make light hearted jokes about, this post in itself is a light hearted joke.

[eddysocs]

Tender Persistence — Meredith Grey x OC

Summary: Meredith is fighting to work through her flu symptoms, but her ever present intern Eva isn’t about to let Meredith stay at Grey Sloan while she’s sick.

Word Count: 760

Warnings: None

The day had been a whirlwind. A seemingly endless cascade of surgeries, patient consults, and paperwork kept Meredith Grey on her feet for hours. But it wasn’t just the hospital chaos weighing her down. It was the dull ache in her body, the persistent throbbing in her head, and the scratchiness in her throat that she had been trying to ignore for days.

Meredith knew she was running on fumes, but she wasn’t one to back down from work, no matter how terrible she felt. As the day wound down, the symptoms finally caught up to her. A dizzy spell hit her just as she was wrapping up a patient’s chart. She braced herself against the counter, willing the room to stop spinning. But before she could regain her footing, a familiar voice cut through the haze.

“Dr. Grey, are you alright?”

Eva Santorini, the intern most frequently on her service, watched her with concern in her eyes, and though Meredith knew she had no ill will, it felt like a look of pity. Eva had noticed Meredith’s fading energy and the flush in her cheeks that had nothing to do with stress. Now, her worry was confirmed.

“I’m fine,” Meredith muttered, straightening up and attempting to act normal, though her legs felt like jelly.

Eva crossed her arms, unimpressed. “You’re clearly not. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, and it’s catching up to you.”

Meredith brushed her off with a weak wave of her hand. “I’m just tired. I need to finish this chart and then—”

“This is non-negotiable, Meredith.” Eva’s voice held firm as she addressed the attending by her first name. “You’re going home, and I’m taking care of you. No arguments.”

Meredith tried to protest, but a cough racked her body, and she could only wince as her head pounded harder. Eva didn’t wait for another excuse. She grabbed Meredith’s coat and bag, taking her by the arm with a gentle but unyielding grip.

“You’re burning up,” Eva murmured, brushing her hand against Meredith’s flushed forehead as they made their way to the elevator. “I can’t believe you’ve been working like this.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Meredith mumbled, though her voice lacked its usual conviction. She leaned a little more into Eva, allowing herself to show a little vulnerability if only to take the edge off the chills running down her spine.

The ride to Meredith's was quiet, the tension from earlier melting away as Meredith finally surrendered. By the time they got to the house, she was too exhausted to fight back anymore. Eva helped her change into comfortable clothes and guided her to bed, pulling the blankets up around her.

Meredith closed her eyes, already feeling a bit better just by being home. But when Eva disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a tray of soup, water, and medicine, she couldn’t help but attempt a weak smile despite her feverish haze. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” she croaked.

Eva settled beside her on the bed, smoothing the damp strands of hair away from Meredith’s forehead. “Of course I did. You’d never do it for yourself.” At that Meredith frowned, but they both knew she was right. Eva held out the medicine. “Take these. And don’t even think about sneaking out of bed for work calls.”

Meredith swallowed the pills, the genuine caring in Eva’s voice making it easier to accept the help. For someone so used to holding everything together on her own, it was a rare relief to let someone else take the reins, not that she’d ever tell Eva that.

The evening passed in quiet companionship. Eva stayed close, occasionally checking on Meredith’s temperature or simply sitting nearby with a book she’d pulled from her bag to pass the time. As the fever began to break, Meredith reached out, placing her hand atop Eva's, startling her a bit with the contact. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice hoarse but no less sincere because of it.

Eva’s expression softened as she squeezed her hand. “You don’t always have to be invincible, Meredith Grey. Everyone has their limits. Even you.”

With a tired nod, Meredith allowed herself to relax fully for the first time in days. She let the exhaustion pull her under, and as she drifted off to sleep, the thought lingered. Sometimes, letting someone care for you wasn’t a sign of weakness. It was simply trusting the people who cared enough to know what you needed, even when you were too stubborn to admit it.

For @sicktember

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw, @gcthvile, @kenjioharashotspot, @immyowndefender

[jonquilyst]

OC Deep Dive Questionnaire Tag

A set of 20 questions to get to know your oc! Ty for tagging me @akitasimblr 💖 I'm gonna do Eva (right), since she won't be playing a big role in Chapter 10

What uncommon/common fear do they have? She'd defintiely be afraid of bugs and would have either Wyatt or Jayden get rid of it (mostly Wyatt though bc they'd enjoy bugs and wouldn't kill them [and would scold Jayden for trying to kill them])

Do they have any pet peeves? Some of her pet peeves include when people bump into her and don't apologize and when people arrive to her college class wreaking of weed

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? Books, posters of her favorite bands, and her trusty headphones, of course

What do they notice first in a person? Their emotional state. It's the sole reason Eva decided to approach Megyn at the beginning of the story. She noticed Megyn soaking wet and looking frantic, and since she's an empathetic person who loves helping others out, she followed her to make sure she was ok

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? I'd say it's mid, like a 5. Not the worst but not the best

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? I think she'd fight, even if it's not in her best interest to do so

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? For the most part yes, she's a family person, though her immediate family just consists of her parents and herself (and she quarrels with them sometimes). However since she's Vietnamese through her dad she's definitely close with that side of the family since everyone visits each other a lot and the grandparents (who are Vietnamese immigrants) host family events with their children and grandchildren (aka Eva's immediate family plus Barry's siblings and their children/Eva's cousins)

What animal represents them best? She definitely gives off excited dog energy, specifically the golden retriever

What is a smell that they dislike? This ties in with her pet peeve, but she dislikes the smell of weed (but she tolerates it if she knows people are gonna be smoking it, like a concert)

Have they broken any bones? Eva was a very active kid growing up and was very accident-prone, so yea, I think she most likely has broken a bone. I can see her having needed a walking boot at some point, so I'll say that she broke her ankle when she was a kid. She would have totally had her friends sign the initial cast before transitioning to a walking boot

How would a stranger likely describe them? Exuberant, lively, energetic, very friendly, and unique

Are they a night owl or a morning bird? Definitely a night owl

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? She dislikes grape-flavored things and loves strawberry-flavored things

Do they have any hobbies? She loves to read, listening to music, and going to the gym

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? She LOVES surprises and the friends would definitely through a surprise party for her. She'd be absolutely thrilled if they did that for her

Do they like to wear jewelry? Yes. Earrings and necklaces are the way to go for her

Do they have neat or messy handwriting? It's legible to most people but it definitely leans towards messy

What are two emotions they feel the most? Excitement and intrigue

Do they have a favorite fabric? Anything that's soft and cozy such as fleece

What kind of accent do they have? She has a medium-high pitched American accent that's sharp, clear, and lively. It contrasts Megyn's voice which is very soft and a little raspy (so opposite of that)

Tagging @thebramblewood @dreamlandiasims @seyvia (feel free to ignore) and anyone else who wants to do this bc Idk who to tag 🙃

[comicarc]

𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐢𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 (𝐈)

next

Eva just wanted to escape Jasper after she graduated high school, but recent circumstances have made it seem like an impossible endeavor. She's seen things she shouldn't have, heard things that should never be said, and felt things she should never feel. Maybe she'll make it out on top, or drown from the hauntings of her past. or An inside look into every character of TFP, their grief, struggle, past and present, through the eyes of my OC (with a little romance). *TW for abuse, psychological and physical trauma, kidnapping & death*

wc: 4941

𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚄𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝙱𝚕𝚞𝚛 𝙷𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

●・○・●・○・●

The warm breeze brushed against her skin and ruffled her hair. Eva closed her eyes, cherishing the rare moment of freedom. One hand softly brushed through the strands of her wavy hair, while the other shielded her from the glare of the setting sun. She gazed at the desert in the distance, noting every cliff, cactus, and tumbleweed she could make out as she waited. The jingling of bells at the entrance of the K.O. Drive-In finally brought her out of her trance. Turning her head, she watched as Jack locked the door behind him before heading towards her.

The lean, somewhat muscular, boy ruffled his dark hair and patted his shirt as he walked down the sidewalk. Grabbing a nearby ladder, he propped it against the back wall and climbed up to the roof of the of the Drive-In. Sitting next to her, Jack flashed a heartfelt smile. His droopy eyes managed to widen, straight eyebrows rose and his dull face brightened.

Eva folded her dangling legs and shifted to face her body towards him before she asked, “Are you going to the dance tonight?”

He replied, “Like I told my mom, no. Experience suggests I should never cut a rug.”

With a slight chuckle, she continued, “How’s the job? Saved up enough for that bike yet?”

“If only Vince paid for his food, then I could probably afford it in about a couple hundred years.”

“Well, you can only do so much. Don’t worry though, when I get out of here I’ll help you get a bike.” Looking down, she points to a sleek, blue motorcycle parked right in front of the entrance. “Maybe even a sweet ride like that.”

Following her gaze, Jack glanced at the vehicle. “I’ve never seen that around.”

“Me neither. Wanna check it out? Maybe even–”

“No, I’ll just check it out.”

Jack made his way back down the ladder, helping Eva jump down from its creaky ridges as he did. In a hurry, he rushed over the the motorbike and set his lustful gaze on it. He delicately felt the seat, touching the unscratched leather surface with the palm of his hand. He moved further down, the sensation of cold metal against his skin raising goosebumps on his arm.

Entranced by the vehicle he whispered, “I love you,” before announcing, “It may take a few K.O. paychecks, but I am going to own a ride like you someday.”

“Ah, there’s the Jack I know!” Eva exclaimed, leaning against a lamp pole as she watched him.

As he began to sit on it, Eva rushed towards him, warning, “You shouldn’t play with things that aren’t yours you know.”

“Oh, come on. Just sit and imagine with me. The wind beneath your hair, as you feel the breeze caressing your face, the–”

“Fine, fine, I’ll get on, Shakespeare.”

Rolling her eyes, Eva sat on the bike, leaning her head against Jack’s back. She intertwined her fingers after her arms looped around his waist and lifted her legs to fit on the passenger foot pedals. Jack adjusted his grip on the handles, pretending as though he was going to drive it. Just as he was about to get up, the engine suddenly revved to life. Thinking it was an accident, Eva let out a chuckle.

She heard more engine noises coming from behind her, prompting her to turn her head. Two sets of blinding headlights were facing them. Before Eva could inform Jack, the bike backed itself onto the road and began to drive between the two cars. Caught off guard by the sudden motion, Jack tried to adjust himself so he wouldn’t fall off the bike as Eva held him tight.

She was too stunned to make a sound as she looked back to see the same cars tailing them. After jumping a few red lights and turning into random streets, the bike swerved into an alleyway, screeching to a halt. Both Jack and Eva took this as a sign to promptly jump off of it.

Heart racing, Jack questioned, “What are you?”

The breeze grew calmer, the alley became almost dead silent, and the bike’s engine died down to a hum. The few seconds of stillness were deathly painful, but what came next was utterly inexplicable.

The bike threatened, “I don’t exist. Tell anyone about me and I will hunt you down.”

Eva, ever more curious than cautious yelled, “WAIT–” but before she could finish, the bike was already gone.

Moments later, Jack and Eva broke out into a sprint attempting to escape from the two cars that had tailed them earlier. Eva panted furiously, losing her breath too quickly for her frantically beating heart to cope. Her legs moved almost automatically, barely touching the ground as they did. She looked to her side to see Jack sitting on the strange motorbike that had left them helpless.

Jack leaned to the left trying to grab hold of her hand as he yelled, “Hop on!” Though it took a few attempts, Eva was eventually able to jump back into her previous position behind Jack. Sweat ran down her neck and her cheeks were painted with a furious blush, yet her heart had finally begun to ease its pace. Strands of her hair stuck to her face, partially obstructing her vision, and the sheer exhaustion from the workout had left Eva falling in and out of consciousness. Jack’s reassuring voice became blurred into the background as she struggled to keep her eyes alert and open. She continued to resist the urge to give in to her fatigue but eventually fainted.

●・○・●・○・●

Silence. It was all Eva could hear. Her body remained motionless lying on a hard concrete surface. The soft breeze blew dust on her face, forcing her to jerk forward and relentlessly cough. Disoriented, Eva swung her head from side to side, frantically searching for Jack or the bike that she was with earlier. All she was met with was the sight of dry leaves rustling in the distance. There was no voice to be heard for miles, no person to be seen anywhere, there was only her. Alone.

Laying back down, Eva looked up at the moon surrounded by billions of twinkling stars. Though the sky wasn’t as illuminated as it had been when the sun had shone, this night brought about a magical and rare sight. She was left in a secluded area, where not a single street lamp or traffic light could be seen, only miles and miles of an empty canal. It seemed that tonight, even the Moon decided to be accompanied.

“What the hell am I doing here?” Like nails on a chalkboard, her voice croaked. The dryness of her throat left her to sound like a piano out of tune, so horrendous to her own ear that she immediately shut her mouth and pursed her lips.

Jack wouldn’t leave me…but then what am I doing here alone? No. I refuse to believe that Jack would abandon me. Did the bike kidnap him? But why him and not me?

Eva’s attempt to grasp her situation was a futile endeavor given the scarcity of information she had so, to momentarily wallow in her self-pity, she rolled over to her side.

Something a few meters ahead caught her eye. Her curiosity overpowering her tiredness allowed her to hoist herself from the ground. Her tender hands were cut as the weight of her body allowed the broken pieces of concrete and other tiny minerals to jab into it.

Ignoring the thin stream of blood that flowed down her arm and fell from her elbow, Eva trekked forward, following the glow of an object at the other side of the canal. Reaching for the object, she observed the intricate symbols it had carved on the outside. Her blood seeped into its nooks and cracks, dulling the shine of the metallic box under the moonlight. Feeling all sides of the box, she pressed a button that unfolded the beautifully decorated exterior to reveal a book.

It was a leather-bound book, with a gold quill emblem on its cover. A loose piece of leather was wrapped around it, keeping it firmly closed. Seating herself back onto the ground, Eva set aside the exterior, unraveled the piece of leather, and flipped through the book.

She stopped at one page when the blood from her palm trickled and fell, highlighting one word: Megatronus. The mere unfamiliarity of the word enticed her to look into the book further.

Flipping to the beginning, the inside cover revealed the book to be the Covenant of Primus and the foreword beside it explained why it was even written:“To this day I could not tell you the beginning of our story–how Primus came to be, nor why, nor when. Though my curiosity burns me greatly, I have had to be satisfied with looking at the Covenant’s hidden stories, written in codes I cannot decipher, knowing that they exist, and knowing that there was a beginning.

Yes, there is a first page and prior to that there is a blank page. Today, I have set myself the task of translating and editing the Covenant of Primus so that it is meaningful for human contemplation. Since our fates are now entwined as galactic neighbors, you should have the opportunity to gain a greater understanding of who we are and where we have come from. The Covenant is our history–a full and lengthy record–of which this is only a fragment, but I hope that it proves a worthwhile and illustrative fragment that will satisfy your curiosity and allow you to develop a richer understanding of the personalities you have so lately met.

- Alpha Trion”

To Eva, it seemed to just be another immersive sci-fi novel; one that could keep her company for the night. With an aching body and a defeated will, she rested her back against the canal wall and began to read.

●・○・●・○・●

The sun had almost fully risen, and Eva had almost fully finished. The inner corners of her eyebrows were pulled up and together as her eyelids sagged. Cracked lips mouthed the final few words on the last page of the book, as Eva bore her heavy eyes into the ink. Her exhaustion was amplified by the streaks of dried tears on her face leaving her a mess of emotions. Closing the book, Eva winced as the dried blood pulled at the skin of her fingers.

The pain reminded her of her loneliness. Jack had never come to find her, and it seemed at this point, that he never would. Though no one had any obligation to her other than herself, the thought of being completely alone was maddening. Yet, she reminded herself that to wallow in self-pity would be to condemn herself to struggle. Finally mustering the strength to leave, Eva repackaged the book into the box, just as she had found it, and carried it with her on her walk home.

A couple of hours later, she was able to relax in her bathtub. She had vigorously scrubbed off the dried blood from her forearm, flinching every time the soap water touched her wound. She then completely submerged her face in an attempt to let the fatigue fall and flow in the muddy water in which she lay. The heat from the bath relaxed her body, softening the roughness in her hands and feet. Begrudgingly emerging from the heavenly water, Eva passed out on the living room couch, wrapping herself in a fleece blanket to cuddle with.

●・○・●・○・●

What the hell did I do? I just left her there and–

Rising his head from between his folded hands, Jack’s thoughts were interrupted at the sight of Eva walking into the classroom. The teacher seemed to be berating her about something, presumably her tardiness, but Jack was more concerned with how she looked to be. There were specks of dried blood littered across the length of her arm, the brown hues of it almost blending into her tan skin. Her eyes had visible bags under them and her mouth was very apparently set in a frown.

The school bell rang, indicating the end of the school day. As everyone rushed out, Jack stayed by the door waiting. Before Eva even took a step past the classroom entrance, Jack pleaded, “I’m so sorry.”

Eva seemed indifferent to his apology, if you could even call it that, and replied with a nod. Jack continued, “OK, let me explain. The motorcycle we were on turned into a robot and started fighting the cars that were chasing us. Then, one of the motorcycle’s friends tried to help but because they were losing, me and Raf ran. I tried to carry you, but before I could, one of the bad robots got you, and I…I thought you had died.”

Tilting his head to face her again, Jack was met with a bewildered expression. The shock was apparent on Eva’s face as she tried to process the outlandish story that Jack had just recounted. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but I believe you.”

As she moved to hug him, she whispered, “And, I’m glad we’re both OK.”

Jack took it as an opportunity to feel her arm where the remains of what seemed to be dried blood originated from. Slowly moving his fingers, all he could feel was her soft skin. Chalking it up to some dirt, Jack dropped his arm and released himself from her embrace to reply, “Me too.”

Eva headed out first, striking conversation with Miko Nakadai about her latest sketches near the entrance steps as Jack headed towards a smaller kid named Rafael Esquivel. Eventually, as the school parking lot began to empty out, Eva set out to get home and catch up on all the work that she had missed. One day of skipping school wouldn’t hurt her grades, but she knew that this sort of thing couldn’t happen again if she wanted to get into a good college.

She wanted to go somewhere far away, preferably the East Coast. Maybe somewhere that was colder than it was warm, after all, her favorite season was winter. And of course, she had to be surrounded by a student body who cared about their future as much as she did hers. It wasn’t that she hated Jasper, it was rather what the town represented.

“Your old man ain’t back yet?” A gruff voice from behind her boomed.

“Aren’t you tired of asking that every day even when you know the answer, Silas?” The man, Silas, quickened his heavy steps to be at Eva’s side. He kept his eyes forward as he continued, “Never. Now tell me, why didn’t you come home last night.”

“I don’t need to tell you. After all, we’re technically estranged.”

“Just because I’m not close to my brother, doesn’t mean I can’t have a relationship with my favorite niece.”

“Your only niece.”

“Listen kid, as much as that asshole may not care for you, I do. You’re family. Always remember that.”

“ I was out partying. OK?”

“Fine, don’t tell me. Just…let me know you’re safe every once in a while.”

“Yes, sir. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“Alright, I won’t bother you any longer.”

Eva waved goodbye to the older man. She smiled at the reassurance that she had at least one parental figure in her life and that he would always check up on her every month. It was one of the very few constant routines in her life, and though she felt guilty disobeying her parents, she wouldn’t change a thing.

●・○・●・○・●

After finishing all her work on Saturday, Eva thought that she deserved to treat herself by heading to the Drive-In to eat out. She had her beachy waves down to compliment her jeans and tank top. Putting on her favorite pair of tennis shoes, Eva began her trek. She put the strange book she had found days prior in a backpack along with a few snacks and water, eager to show Jack.

She hadn’t seen him in a while, so she thought she would be able to bump into him there. At the thought, Eva remembered how Jack had mentioned transforming robots. She would definitely be asking him about that.

When she arrived and sat at one of the booths in the fast-food joint, Eva couldn’t seem to get a hold of Jack at all. She texted, called, and even asked his coworkers if he was a no-show today. He was acting stranger than usual and that worried her enough to wait a few hours for Jack to show up.

When the sun began to set, Eva decided enough was enough and headed to leave. Walking into the parking lot, she noticed a car that looked almost exactly like the one that tailed her and Jack. She tried to take the long way home, turning at every corner she could see and staying near well-lit places, yet that didn’t work at all. The car followed her for about a mile before blatantly accelerating onto the sidewalk and hitting her hard enough to have her pass out.

She was conscious by the time the car had made it onto a strange metallic platform. Though weak, Eva could still move her body to fall out as soon as the door opened. Afraid to look back, she broke out into a mad dash to the nearest door she could find, praying that it was the exit.

To her dismay, when she slipped through one of the automatic doors, she was met with the body of a metallic monster. Its head had a sharp, angular design that resembled a helmet. Its mouth was agape, revealing a set of pointy teeth. Worst of all was the gaping hole surrounded by rusted metal at the robot’s center. Wires and tubes came from the ceiling into every part of its body. It was dying.

There was no time to sympathize. Eva had to figure out where she was and how she would get back home. Reaching into her jeans pocket, Eva tried to turn it on to dial 911, yet she realized her phone had died. There was no way out anymore, for the automatic door no longer opened in her presence either and she had no idea who she was dealing with. Why would robots want to kidnap her?

Deciding that there was nothing she could do at the moment, Eva climbed up the platform to seat herself against the ledge of the metal bed the robot was lying on. She crossed her legs, leaned back against the frame, and took out the Covenant. There was nothing else to do, and rather than allowing her mind to succumb to her fear, Eva thought she could re-read the book.

Everything seemed so surreal. This robot, her kidnapping, and Jack’s strange behavior. Things were changing, and Eva hated change. Reaching into her bag for something to calm her, she felt the strange book and recalled the vivid stories it contained. The characters, they didn’t seem fantastical anymore. Maybe if she studied the book then she could gain some semblance of understanding. Flipping the book to the first page, Eva chose to read it with more intent. She began to pronounce each word aloud to help her remember all that she would learn. And if not for that, then she would speak to give her creepy companion some company.

●・○・●・○・●

The descriptions of these characters, the Cybertronians, seemed to resemble the robots that Eva had seen thus far, and that scared her. Closing the book and placing it back into her bag, Eva moved closer to the metal giant’s face. It had so many dents and scratches that it made her wonder if he was one of these characters.

She heard thunderous echoing footsteps in the hallway, warning her of the danger she was still in. She scrambled down from the metallic bed and hid in a spacious nook below the deck, just far enough to not catch anyone’s sight.

“Lord Megatron seems to be making some progress, but he is still far from waking. Soundwave?” A tall, slender robot with a vibrant crimson color scheme announces.

The blue and silver robot beside him, Soundwave, remained silent. His digital-like face had brainwave graphics displayed, soon replaced with a thumbs-up directed to the red robot. Both had a grayish insignia embedded into their shoulders. It was shaped with a sharp edge pointing on both ends resembling a trident that framed a menacingly angular face.

They stayed for a few more moments, staring at Megatron’s still body before heading out. Eva breathed a sigh of relief as they exited. Remaining in her hiding spot, she used her jacket as a blanket and leaned her head against one of its walls, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. She could only survive off of snacks for so long, she’d get bored of reading eventually, all she could do was pray that someone could save her.

●・○・●・○・●

A week had passed and every day Eva would follow the same routine. Eat a bite of one of her snacks, drink a sip of water, read for an hour or two to Megatron, drink another sip of water, sleep, and repeat. She had barely any food left now and only a fourth of her water remained.

Her extended slumber was the only anchor to reality she had left. For most of the day, she would keep her eyes closed. Her back would lean against the cold metal wall, shielded from the cool air that spilled from the vents with only her thin jacket. And all she would do was sleep.

In her dreams, she found little solace, for they would always remind her of the life she had. Sometimes she would dream about her times with Jack at the Drive-In. Other times she would recall special bonding moments with her Uncle. One particular memory would always replay. The day her life had changed.

She was ten and playing on the swings. She would push with her legs every time the swing neared the ground and with each thrust, Eva soared higher above. She was flying, as free as a bird with no care in the world.

At her own pace, when her exhilaration wore down, Eva slowed and hopped off the swing in search of her parents. Though the freedom of isolation was exhilarating, she wanted to feel the warmth of company.

It seemed to her that they were playing hide-and-seek, for her thirty-minute-long search became a futile endeavor. When she had finally given up, she didn’t cry, she didn’t throw a tantrum, all she did was sit back on the swing. This time she closed her eyes, shutting her lids tighter with every kick of her feet so she could not be bound by the limits of sight. She wanted to feel freer than a bird, to fly high enough to find her parents wherever they may be.

All of a sudden she was abruptly stopped. Caught by a stranger no less. She knew who this stranger was, but she refused to accept his aid. Her parents always spoke ill of him, and being the loyal little girl she was, she kicked and screamed while his hand held the swing chains firm.

When she lost her shrill voice, the man said, “They’re gone. They left you.”

Her voice had a slight rasp to it as she responded, “They wouldn’t. They’re not like you.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? Now, where are they?” He was right.

Before she could respond, Eva would always wake up with tears streaming down her. Though she would never admit it, Eva missed her parents dearly. She didn’t lose them once. It wasn’t like getting lost in a mall or in a public area only to find her parents eventually. No. She lost them every second she was alive in the last six years. Every time she needed them and there was no one there. There was no end to this loss, for they were still alive. She grieved the souls of the living. She loved those who did not love her. And even now, she held onto her memories with them, seeking a comfort that was never there.

But she was able to find that comfort in June. She was the only mother Eva considered, for June helped Eva grow as a woman. She took care of her when she was sick, she cooked so she wouldn’t starve and she loved her like a daughter. Jack was just as welcoming for he was her best friend, her confidant, her brother. They were inseparable for as long as Eva could remember. Though recently Jack had been more distant than usual, Eva would invariably go back to sleep with the hope that they would be OK.

Eva had finished the book for a second time three days into her stay. Thus she opted to talk to Megatron as if he was her personal diary. These ‘conversations’, were the most productive she had ever had. Stuck in her own mind, she began to voice her thoughts, her fears, her desires, her plans, everything. Every once in a while, she would hear a light groan or see a finger twitch as though Megatron was responding to her words. It made her heart skip a beat each time, out of both fear and curiosity.

●・○・●・○・●

The cold is crushing, bitter, and harsh. Her mind aches to be united with her soul as surely as the day moves toward the night. Her stomach churns in deep hunger like a crew battling a monsoon. The wails of their widowed wives are eclipsed by the rumbling emitted from her abdomen. Her peace in darkness was broken with a ceiling light. The storm had died, leaving shallow waters in its wake. The air stilled, kissed with the warmth of comfort. Eva awoke.

A melody of laughter and booming voices emitted from the other side of the sofa. Too weak to hoist herself above the cushions, Eva looked at the ceiling longingly. Their voices were like a secret hidden in plain sight. Close enough to hear, but too far to feel. Yet, their enthusiasm seemed short-lived, for they soon began voicing their regrets.

“…Did my best to finish Megatron’s story. Just couldn’t stick around long enough to see how it ended.”

They must be Autobots if they hate Megatron this much. Speaking of, is he truly dead? Eva’s disappointment scared her out of her wits. What was the tyrant to her, for her to care this much? He was callous and cruel, the Covenant lay a testament to that. Though, she didn’t need to worry anymore. She was safe, for her saviors were none other than the Autobots.

Heavy footsteps echoed against the walls of the large room as the mech made his way toward Eva, both intrigued and rueful. He walked with conviction, but his mind was a mess of self-loathing. Seeing her limp body resting on the sofa served as an inevitable reminder that he would always fail in the face of Megatron.

Optimus Prime always believed himself to have been a failure. As an archivist, as an advocate, as a brother, and worst of all, as a leader. The paleness in her face, the dryness in her lips, the weight in her eyelids, Optimus had thought her dead. But the batting of her lashes, the hint of a smile on her face, and the light blush creeping on her cheek had given him reassurance. Though he often fails, he does not repeat his mistakes.

Eva, completely conscious of her environment now, raised her head to be met with bright cerulean blue eyes. She knew who he was. She could tell by his demeanor and stature. He was the one and only leader of the Autobots, Optimus Prime.

“Hey there,” Eva contemplated for a moment whether it was wise to reveal her knowledge. He was still an alien, and though the Covenant detailed his motivations, there was no such thing as being too cautious. “Where am I?”

She didn’t need to reveal all her cards but she didn’t need to seem ignorant either. Eva had to be cunning to survive or who knows what other horrors she might face.

“We are in a secure military facility just outside Jasper city limits,” he answered immediately. “You are Eva, correct?”

“Yes, and you are…” Eva decided that playing coy was her best approach. If he was in fact the saint that the Covenant claimed him to be, then he would understand her skepticism. And if not…then it was a good thing that she tried.

“Optimus Prime. I alongside my crew are autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron. We have come to Earth to protect it from the Decepticon forces, notably, Megatron.”

“I think I saw him back at their…”

“The Decepticons control their operations from a spaceship known as the Nemesis.”

“Yeah. That.”

“I’d like to ask you a few questions if you’re up to it. I know you have gone through a traumatizing ordeal and I do wish for you to relive it.”

“Thanks for the concern, but I’m fine. Maybe in desperate need of a shower, but otherwise I feel fine.”

Optimus hesitantly nodded with a disapproving expression. Regardless, he motioned toward the elevator doors that stood a few meters from the couch on which Eva lay. She haphazardly scrambled off the couch, retrieved her backpack from the coffee table nearby, and slowly walked towards the doors, careful to not lose her fragile balance. 

[box0pals]

Eva Rainsong.

Fandom: Fandomless but leans heavily toward Fantasy/DnD. Age Rating: Mature to Adult. Themes: Fight Rp, Slice of Life, Horror, Fantasy, Dark Themes, Blood, Death, Sexual Themes, Intense Gore. Triggers: Stalking. As this character while not a Yandere, does display some qualities of one and stalking is primarily one of them. This is simply because they're a fae and a creature that simply does this when interested in someone or intending to prank or worse to the person in question. This of course is plot-only. Portrayal: This is an OC, I'm basically going to do whatever I want with her. So feel free to interact, ask, as they're a fae trickster of great skill and fighting prowess, being a fairly sadistic and dark creature. Uses Albedo as a faceclaim for icons. Summary: -Strong, Physical Companion, Speedster-esque Archetype. -Has various verses for power-scaling from near start in the mortal plane to their full power, or simply fae-realm power. -Possessive, Vengeful, Alien Mindset, Likes to mess with people, Protective, Glutton, Selfish, Brutal, Eats people, Torturous, Playful, Can be unpredictable when not close, Likes to be spoiled, Self-Sabotaging if friends or lovers with non-fae or beings that don't understand their inhuman nature, Capable of being sweet, Loves Stealing, Kills indiscriminately no matter who or what it is, Can be pretty suggestive or extremely demented at times. -Primarily the 'Fighter Class' with levels of Barbarian. This uses my rework of Champion along with dual-wielding of 5e. Mostly to give a better idea of the tropes the exact capability of this character. -Mercenary. -Capable of being with good and evil aligned parties.

>Full Bios Link Here<