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xenaisnumber1 · 24 hours

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The strong, silent character who becomes an efficient killing machine when their girl is threatened.

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estherthenormal · 22 hours

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Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Summary:

When Ava dies, she doesn't stay dead. The OCS wants to use her but all she wants to do live her lives in peace.

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This is fine.

That was all she could think as she watched her heart beat one last time, not in her chest but on the pavement. Blood poured fast from the gaping hole where her heart used to be. Even as she watched as heavy black boots stomped her heart to mush, driven by legs she couldn't help but admire, she thought again: This is probably fine.

And then her world went dark.

Truth be told: it was fine. The Body was funny that way. Masochistic thing that it was, it loved dying. Why else would it always come back from whatever damage was dealt?

For Ava, death was far from a terminal condition. An occasional hiccup more than anything. For her, no matter how long it was, it went by in an instant. Just a splash of black in her memory and she would wake up again. The worst part of dying, in Ava's opinion, was that people really like to move the Body around while she is out.

She'd gotten used to morgues. She could never get used to graves. Or incinerators that would kill her again as soon as she woke back up. But morgues were usually fine. On the short list of places she'd like to wake up, it was pretty high up there. Having a convenient little door to open and walk out of was pretty sweet. Being buried was just messy and claustrophobic. And it usually came with a few added deaths on her way out. As it turns out, it’s not so easy to breathe under six feet of dirt.

So when Ava wakes up in the dark, she almost panics and thinks she's in a grave again. She couldn't move her arms when she tried, and the panic grew. Her body, in one piece and living again, but paralyzed by some weight. Numb, she tried to call out, not caring about the stupidity of the act. But it was no use anyhow: the words caught in her throat. All she managed was something that almost approached a moan.

Good thinking, girl. Moan like a zombie while you come back to life. That'll make 'em calm. That definitely won't just get you shot again.

And sure enough, Ava heard a familiar response to her little noise. The unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked and most likely aimed right at her. On the bright side, at least she wasn't in a grave.

#fic: Ava the Nundead #the undead ava au is here!#that ava sure is in a pickle #warrior nun #ava silva #sister beatrice #avatrice

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sleepylittle-wolf · 5 months

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