❝ i think that everyone has a crush , whether it be just thinking they’re hot or admiring the things they do . i mean , you’re kind of super intense but you must still have one . i’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours , deal ? ❞
“Alright, I’ll humor you,” Eon replied after a moment of contemplation - sipping his beer as he weighed the pros and cons of continuing the conversation like it was one worth having. If nothing else, it was probably best he got along with the prospects. “Tell me who you’re hot for and I guess I’ll return the favor.”
it didn’t take long for elena to grow tired of her teasing. she leaned into him, her lips close to his ear. “i live about five minutes from here. what do you say?” she should have more reservations right now, but with the whiskey pumping through her her judgement was severely clouded. besides, she knew all to well how reapers were between the sheets.
her fingers had halted on his forearm, her red lips twisting up into a smile. she stood and slowly back toward the door. her finger curling, motioning for him to follow. she had a fair share of tricks up her sleeve and couldn’t wait to show eon what she was capable of.
“Lead the way, Elena.” He smirked, grabbing his leather jacket from the counter and heading after her, slipping it on as he walked. Should he have approached the situation with more caution? Sure - hooking up with a diablos was a risky move and he was pretty certain she was one of them. But he had a few drinks in him and he was more than happy to play into her hand if it meant he left satisfied.
He was only human, after all, and the human condition had a pesky habit of making him throw caution to the wind.
eve waved her hand at him and grabbed the two menus slotted into the cutlery stand, behind the ketchup and mustard and slipped one in front of eon. it was almost pointless to look, because she knew exactly what she was getting, but she might surprise herself. ❝ first of all, yes we do. this is a tradition. and second, you weren’t around on your actual birthday, so we couldn’t do it on the day like usual. so you get it now. ❞ she looked up at him and a small smile graced her features. he could protest all he wanted, but she knew he was enjoying himself and that was all she needed to continue this. ❝ besides, you’re finally old enough for me to put something strong into the milkshake. or to even order a beer or something. ❞ bad influence? eve? only some of the time.
“Hate to break it to you, Eve, but I’ve been drinking for a while now,” he snorted, briefly glancing over the menu in front of him even though he knew it by heart. He’d gotten the same thing since they’d started their little tradition - the classic cheeseburger, fries, and a strawberry milkshake - and he had no intention of switching it up.
Eventually, he gave up on trying to seem like he wasn’t happy to be there, letting Eve’s smile coherece something akin to the same out of him. He didn’t wear it well - a genuine smile - it never looked quite like he meant it, like there was always a hint of something less pleasant just waiting to overtake it completely.
his friendship with eon is not something he sleeps on, it’s nice to have people around who don’t have some hidden or alternative agendas. people he can just hang out with, it’s especially nice when those people talk about as little as he does and there are not any forced conversations. “around,” he echo with a slight smirk. con didn’t really have any room to talk. his description wouldn’t be much more than that either. “’bout time y’ can drink at the bar with the rest of us.”
“You say that like it’s a new thing. I’ve been drinking with you assholes for years,” he chuckled, punctuating his statement with a sip of his beer. It was true, he’d had a running deal with one of the bartenders since his seventeenth birthday and now that he was legally allowed to drink, it felt lackluster. Twenty-one was just another year for him, another year for him to build himself up, to take what he deserved from a world that had fucked him over one too many times for his short fuse.
“What about you? Anything interesting happen while I was away?”
matias vergara lopez was not a good man. that was just a cold, hard fact. any man that became a police officer as a protest to the lives his parents lived and then became corrupt? that was not a good fucking man and matias was well aware of how he often skated the line. on occasion, he could and would be the best guy around. he was loyal and humble, he was dedicated and passionate. but then an opportunity would rear its ugly head and matias was almost powerless to it. like now, as an excellent example. he had caught wind of gideon crellin’s father turning up dead. there was nothing to say that gideon crellin had anything to do with it. there was no evidence to suggest it. but in this town? matias knew better than to believe what the evidence was showing him. it didn’t matter that that was the very first thing you were supposed to pay attention to. matias knew so much better than that. after all, evidence would not suggest that he was crooked and taking bribes from gang members. he knew all too well that members of both the reapers and the diablos were usually quite skilled at hiding their activities. he may have called it a mistake if he believed in those. there were very rarely any mistakes in this town, no matter how many times people protested that they had made one. the only one he could quite rightly confirm to be a mistake? his conception.
he had taken it upon himself to take a little detour after work. he had not actually been thinking about where he should go until he was at gideon’s place. it seemed only acceptable and appropriate, given that he had been thinking about this for the entire day. it had never meant to be something he focused solely on, but once he got his hooks into something that he could exploit, it was only a matter of time before he was showing his face to collect what he felt he was owed. sure, there was nothing to be owed yet, but once the promise of protection was offered, it was only a matter of minutes before his.. for lack of a better word, prey, was bowing down and accepting their fate. he knocked twice and stood patiently at the front door, arms folded in front of him. he was still in his uniform and he knew that was likely to be a dangerous thing. this had truly not been planned or he would have arrived in his own clothes. all in all, matias could be a good person on occasion. he had a heart, he just rarely used it. he would throw himself under the bus to protect the people he cared about. it just so happened that gideon crellin was not one of those people. once the door was opened, matias took a moment to take in his features, his body language and his attire. no real need for it, sure, but there was never anything wrong with getting a good look at you (again, for lack of a better word) prey. ❝ gideon crellin. i have a couple questions for you. may i come in? ❞ his words are accentuated with a step forward, hoping to clearly get across that he intended to come in, whether he was welcomed or not.
“Sure, whatever. Don’t touch anything,” Eon replied, stepping out of the doorway to let him in, his face long-since trained into indifference after the initial surprise of a cop showing up at his front door. Closing and locking the door behind them, he leaned back against the heavy wood, giving the cop a quick once over. He wasn’t good at reading people like either of his siblings - other people and their emotions were quick to evade him unless he had a lot of experience with them - but it was blatantly obvious the guy had something on him and Eon was both intrigued and amused.
Killing his dad was the best thing he’d ever done and he’d been smart enough to make the right connections before he did it. Between Mick and his connections with the Reapers, there wasn’t a trace of him left so he wasn’t all that concerned. Still, he was nothing if not ruthless and if there was any chance the investigation would be reopened, he’d do anything in his power to stop it.
“So, Officer, what can I do you for?” He asked, running his fingers through his unkempt hair. Eon had yet to really settle in for the night - scuffed boots still laced up and his leather jacket hugging his back and shoulders.
there are still some minimal scrapes around his jaw, decorated with some yellowing flesh along from the fight with their fellow reaper. he is sitting at the back of the clubhouse, nursing a bottle of beer. he notices the other, his close friend, approaching. he nods once to him tilts his beer, as if a silent greeting. “where y’ been hiding?” there are very few people with whom con will instigate conversation with, gideon happens to fall into that category. he straightens in his seat and looks toward his brother.
“Around,” he shrugged, making himself at home on the couch next to Con with a sigh. The list of people Eon legitimately cared about was short and hierarchal - he didn’t get attached to people, not really, and when he did it was rare he was attached to them for anything but his own selfish desires. Con, however, made the cut. Why? He couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason but he would go as far as to say he considered the man a friend.
“eon,” she repeated in a low whisper–as if trying out his name and to see how it sounded on her lips. she leaned against the bar, the cut of her top dangerously low, but that wasn’t an unusual look for her. “elena garcia.” elena always loved the way her full name sounded, and, therefore, always introduced herself that way.
his expression hinted to her that her tactic was working. she had his attention. “let’s see.” her voice had a light teasing tone as she sipped at her drink. her body was position to face him as delicate hands ran over his arms once again. “i plan on making it worth your while. if i told all my plans, it’d ruin all the fun now wouldn’t it?”
“Well, Elena,” he continued, testing her name on his tongue. Elena Garcia - a name that demanded something more than a passing whisper. It fit her. “I’d be lying if I said this conversation wasn’t the most interesting thing that’s happened to me tonight. I’m sold.”
She was bold. Her voice held a certain conviction, a certain security and confidence mimicked by her wandering fingers and dark eyes. Everything about her screamed temptation and as he savored his drink, he had no qualms with indulging.
Tapping his fingers against the scuffed wood of the bar, cracks and ridges in the varnish obvious to the touch, Eon wondered briefly how long it’d take for Elena to tire of her own teasing. He’d never been good at it - flirting, teasing, skirting around his lust in an attempt to seem charming - that was his brother’s thing. Still, he’d never felt the need, either - there was always someone willing to skip the bullshit for a bit of fun. Boredom made the most pointless things seem interesting if one gave it long enough.
elena leaned up against the bar beside him. “whiskey and coke for me and whatever will make him happy.” he could’ve been playing with her to get a free drink, but elena was curious. the barstool beside him was empty so elena took her seat beside him. one hand lazily ran digits over his forearm. she wanted his attention and was determined to get it. with her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes went over his frame. curious what beneath the thin t-shirt.
her attention now focused on his face, and she noticed the way his eyes drifted down and over her body. there was no denying the smirk playing on her features when his gaze eventually met hers. “what’re looking at?” she asked innocently, resting a cheek on her hand.
“I’ll have the same,” Eon clarified bluntly as the bartender looked to him for a drink order, turning his attention back to the young woman. Her touch, the way her fingers trailed over his skin without permission, it would’ve grated on his nerves if he wasn’t already five drinks into his evening. She wanted his attention, she wanted it enough to pay for his drinks, and that idea alone was enough for his buzzed brain to dismiss anything else.
“My name’s Eon,” he continued, keeping true to his word as he took a sip of his whiskey and coke, the drink noticeably more enjoyable. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but everything seemed to taste better free. “Do I get yours?”
His expression mirrored her’s, a smirk twisting his handsome face into something akin to amusement, his slightly overgrown bangs softening his naturally harsh features. “I think you know the answer to that question. You wanted my attention, now what’re you gonna do with it?”
“You didn’t have to do this, you know?” Eon mused, sliding into the booth across from Eve, grainy 80′s rock playing from the sound system. The diner’s tacky wallpaper and bright red booths brought back years and years of memories; every birthday for as long as he could remember he and Eve had gone to get dinner in the diner and it seemed his 21st wasn’t going to go by as the exception. “I’m not seven anymore.”
Despite his protests, a soft smile threatened to ruin his mask of indifference.
the alibi room was reaper territory, but elena couldn’t pass up a good drink. besides, reapers were much better in bed than diablos. the room was hazy and her cup was never empty. she swayed her hips to the music, her confidence sky high at this point from drinking so much. she spotted a familiar reaper across the bar. she’d seen him before, and damn was he beautiful. she walked her way across the bar with a mischievous smile already tugging at the corners of her lips. “i’ve seen you before,” she began, one arm tracing across his back from shoulder to shoulder to get his attention. “but, for the life of me, i can’t remember your name.” ( @eoncrellin )
“Buy me a drink and maybe I’ll remind you,” he replied easily, sliding his empty glass toward the bartender. Eon had been drinking all evening - an activity made much easier by the fact that he’d recently turned 21 and no longer had to coax drinks out of the bartender one broken promise at a time. Casually perched atop a barstool, leaning heavily against his elbows, he downed glass after glass of whatever the fuck the bartender decided to give him. He was more bored than anything, staying out of trouble until it was actually worth the time and effort, and the bar had always provided a good source of entertainment. That evening was no different.
Letting his eyes subtly wander over the woman’s figure, he smirked, his gaze finally meeting hers. She was beautiful, to say the least, the playful glint in her eyes a promise she was more than just a pretty face.
a box rested on her knees , which are clad in tights that are covered in holes. the warmth of it’s contents seeps into her legs as cassie sits perched on a kerb overlooking the street. it’s NIGHT , but it’s not so late that the road is deserted. b e s i d e s , in an area like staton , there’s always someone roaming about. usually up to no good. the neon light of the takeout where she just exited , combined with the street light shines upon her back , casting a shadow. cassie’s attention only diverts from her food when another shadow approaches and she looks up at the passing body. “ want some ?? ” the pizza box is held out in an offer by her left hand as she takes another bite of the slice clutched in the right. “ pineapple and olive , ” she states happily in between two bites. her head buzzes with both happiness and the HIGH she had induced a little earlier.
“Sure, why not.” Gideon shrugged, taking the box from Cassie and sitting down next to her, only then taking a piece of pizza and setting the rest down beside him. The combination of olives and pineapple seemed like a sin - two things most people contested should ever be put on pizza in the first place cozying up together - but he’d never been one to shy away from the blasphemous. Besides, he was hungry and it was free, he’d have to be an idiot to turn something like that down.
The night was young and the air was warm, it would’ve been perfect if he had something to do, but alas - he was all out of chaos for the moment. Cassie’s unexpected presence made for an adequate distraction, even if her choice in pizza toppings left something to be desired.
“You ever try to guess what people are up to out here at night?” He asked, taking a bite of the pizza - it wasn’t bad. “Depending on how shitty your imagination is, it’s kinda fun.”
He was restless, the minutes meandering by like they had nothing to lose. Eon hadn’t seen his brother in weeks - mostly by his own design - and it seemed Lucifer was content on making it a few more considering how long it was taking him to make it to the bar. The ambient noise of some football game and the patrons gossiping over meaningless happenings in their pointless lives was only tolerable for so long without a drink and some company and he was reaching his limit.
“Finally, what the fuck took you so long?” Eon asked as soon as his brother was in earshot - the bastard arriving just as he was about to say ‘fuck it’ and give up, of course - leaning forward, his elbows bearing the brunt of his upper body weight. It had been more than three weeks since he’d last seen his brother; long enough for him to kill his father, have a birthday, and lay low in a cop’s house until his murder faded into the background. Needless to say, he’d missed a lot and his brother happened to be one of the few people included in that broad category.
It’s Ra back with my favorite garbage can of a character, Gideon, and he even has his own intro post this time. If you want to plot, pls like this post or hmu on discord and I’ll slide into your dms and bug you for plots. Happy reading, lovelies!
( CODY CHRISTIAN. TWENTY ONE. CISMALE. HE/HIM. ) in texas, GIDEON CRELLIN is known to most as EON. they have been riding with the reapers for TWO YEARS. they originally from STRATFORD and the SOLDIER is known to be very RUTHLESS & VOLITILE but the other club members will tell you they are DRIVEN & RESOURCEFUL. as the years go by, they’ve gained a lot of respect in the club and around town. they rarely ever drive a car but when they do LA MER by CLAUDE DEBUSSY is usually heard blasting. (claude debussy on quiet nights, cold eyes and an empty smile, rushed one-nights stands and stolen kisses, a fake ID wielded with confidence) [ Ra. 19. est. they/them. ]
The product of an affair between his mother and a married man, Gideon made number three in a line of illegitimate children living off the scraps of a woman in love with herself and the word of God.
His father refused to acknowledge he existed despite the fact that he looked more like the man with every passing year. Anyone could see it - he was the spitting image and yet no one said a thing. Not once. Every Sunday he sat through a church service next to a man who’s face haunted him in the mirror and pretend he didn’t notice. Just as everyone else did.
If his brother was driven by lust and greed, Gideon’s vices were envy and wrath. Anger planted itself in his chest even before he was old enough to understand the emotion and it only grew as it got older - evolved until it became the core of his twisted being. He wanted to sink his fingers into the almighty God his mother so desperately clung to and rip out his heart.
The kids he went to school with - his peers - they were all so shiny and happy with their semi-functioning families and new clothes. With their full-stomachs and fancy pens. He wanted what they had - no he wanted more. He wanted to be special.
Violence was commonplace, the urge to destroy what wasn’t his. Despite what half a dozen school counselors told his mother, it wasn’t the attention he wanted, it was the revenge. (Okay, the attention played a bit of a role, but not nearly as much as they gave it credit for.)
His mother’s answer to his behavioral issues was always the same - pray to God. Force him to pray to God, to repent for sins he was happy to commit if it meant he felt something. Something other than envy - than the sickly green jealousy tinting his vision.
He stopped believing in God the moment he understood what kind of life he was living. As soon as he was old enough to understand that his siblings were the only ones that gave a shit about the bruises on his too-thin body, about the holes he wore through his threadbare jackets in the winter.
If God was real, he didn’t deserve the dirt under his feet much less the churches dedicated to his greatness. Nothing satisfied him more than the thought of burning one down - of watching the beautifully crafted building go up in flames. The idea was more beautiful than any painting his brother could ever create.
Gideon realized he was no one’s favorite the day he turned eighteen. Not even his siblings - the only people he actually cared about. They’d choose each other over him, he was sure of it, just like their mother had chosen Lucifer over him.
Someday. He promised himself someday he’d be someone’s first choice. And he found his opportunity with the Reapers - one of two Motorcycle Clubs in the area he grew up. Once he worked his way to the top, he’d have people willing to die for him. People would be jealous of him, of his power.
Still, even as he worked his way up the ranks...there was something holding him back. His father - the bastard who he couldn’t run away from. The man who’s features followed him everywhere, who’s reflection he saw in every mirror. So...he took care of it.
Killing his father was the closest to heaven he’d ever gotten. The sound of him begging - forced to acknowledge the monster he’d had a hand in creating - it was music to his ears. Even covered in sticky blood and bearing a few injuries of his own, he was content. And hungry for more.
Lying low for a time until his father’s murder blew over, Eon spent his 21st birthday sleeping in a motel and blowing a bartender for free drinks before returning home - finally back where he belonged: with the reapers.
& Useless Headcanons
Eon is a huge fan of classical music, especially orchestral arrangements. He wanted to be a part of the orchestra when he was younger but he didn’t have the money to do so. He even dated the first-chair violinist for a while just for the free lessons - it helped that she was gorgeous and absolutely infatuated with him.
The only people he truly cares about are his siblings - they mean the world to him, even if he does find himself jealous of them more often than not.
His criminal record is miles long and mostly consists of petty theft, underage drinking, public disturbance, and aggravated assault.
He’s not great at reading people and he has a hard time emphasizing, though watching his brother has helped him figure it out a bit.
If it’s not instigated by him, he hates it when people touch him. It doesn’t matter if it’s a gentle brush of a shoulder, a friendly hug, or a punch to the face - it sets him on edge.
He rebuilt his bike all by himself after buying the thing for cheap and scavenging for parts. It’s not perfect but he’s too stubborn to let anyone else take a look at it.
He can’t stand silence so he often puts on cheesy cooking shows in the background before he goes to bed - it’s no one's business if he actually stays awake for hours and watches Bobby Flay kick people’s asses.
