#eva eight

[sneakboots]

I benefit so much from media showcasing the reality of sisterhood. Which is why I believe that my love for Eva Nine and Eva Eight is so strong. They represent the transition of growing up in similar circumstances but dealing with them differently. They represent using the breaking down of childhood and choosing to create their adulthood from the ground up because of their past. They represent navigating a changing sister relationship through those transforming adult desires and wishes. And that’s where the divergence come in.

There is so much you have to let go of when you become your own person, and that includes relationships. Sometimes diverging paths lead to a different type of bond, and that is so hard to go through when you realize that you are no longer good for each other, at least in the forms you used to be. I think that everyone who experiences sisterhood (through blood or through close friendships) deals with this in one way or another, and that is why seeing this type of thing represented in media is so important. Learning how to cope with the person you thought you had everything in common with metamorphosize into someone who doesn’t need you to play the role you always have in their life is soul crushing but somehow so beautiful.

[dracocheesecake]

Spoiler Warning For the Wondla Books

...Ok, so are we not going to talk about how Eva Eight dated Hailey's dad (Evan Seven)? Are we going to gloss over that? And that he didn't abandon her, he got eaten by sand-snipers? And Eva Nine and Hailey were almost adopted siblings?

[noiselessbuck]

WondLa really had Eva's life long goal of finding other people like her turn into hey actually my real friends are a coyote boy with an airship and an alien with a backpack and all you people are mean

and Then WondLa went hey you have an older sister who technically had the life you thought of as perfection and she got what you never had because of Bastille but Then Eva 8 goes yeah sorry but my childhood sucked ass and I wasn't allowed to do anything until I was 18 and got sterilized!? and so I resent our robot mom forever because of that.

They really said- the tragedy you went through brought you freedom. Community cannot be manufactured.

that was such a madlad move to put in a middle grade trilogy

[fennelwasp]

Au @indigo-constellation and i were talking about where Daniil is hbomberguy

[starencrustedtinfoil]

WONDLA SWEEP

Round 1, Poll 4: Goosebumps vs The Search for WondLa

[abirdie]

Films that I couldn't drag eight gifs out of...

Gael García Bernal in The Limits of Control (2009, dir. Jim Jarmusch)

Gael García Bernal (uncredited, and they changed the audio from his original Rudo y Cursi vocal) in Vamps (2012, dir. Amy Heckerling)

Gael García Bernal in Salt and Fire (2016, dir. Werner Herzog)

Gael García Bernal in Acusada (2018, dir. Gonzalo Tobal)

Gael García Bernal in It Must Be Heaven (2019, dir. Elia Suleiman)

Gael García Bernal in The Mother (2023, dir. Niki Caro)

[other gael filmography gifsets]

[autumnalfallingleaves]

Why am I just now realizing that so much of my favorite media involves clones??

[aisubekibungou]

new and improved limbus x a3 assignments

[divatheeva]

sometimes I think people underestimate HOW stupid I can get actually

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 1

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 2.7K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut

Author's Note: hello! i'm Eva and this is my first fic on tumblr ever! I've been a reader for so long and I've always wanted to write my own stories, so I figured I finally would. I know it’s kind of short but I promise the other parts will be longer. Please give me any feedback you have and let me know if you'd like there to be a tag list or anything! I hope you guys like it!! p.s. I'm totally posting this instead of doing my morphology homework that's due in 15 minutes

masterlist / next

The door to your childhood home looked artificially welcoming. There were too many flowers lining the walls encasing the looming wooden door. The grass on the lawn just was a bit too green without a blade out of place and the paved walkway was freshly powerwashed and missing even a speck of dirt. You let out the deep breath you were holding and gently took hold of the overly ornate bronze knocker adorning the painted wood of the door. Two loud thuds rang out as you knocked and the door quickly opened afterwards.

“Hello, Miss Y/N, your parents have been expecting you.”

“Yes, I know. Thank you, Mrs. Oh,” you responded quietly, nodding at the grey-haired woman. She shot you a sympathetic smile before ushering you in, taking your coat and carefully laying it over her arm. After removing your shoes, you followed her past the foyer to the living room where your parents awaited. 

You knew what was coming, you knew that this had been decided long before you were born. Yet, you still felt unprepared. You had grown comfortable, living in your simple apartment in Gangnam and your quiet work routine. Biting your lip, you reprimanded yourself internally, You should’ve brought this shit up in therapy before it happened.

“Here we are, Miss Y/N,” Mrs. Oh said, snapping you out of your self-pity session. You nodded gratefully at her, sending a small smile her way. Her eyebrows wove together in her own pity-ridden expression and she quickly whispered, “Good luck,” while exiting swiftly. You steeled your nerves and forced your chin up high, knowing that you’d most likely cower inwards as soon as you faced your parents anyway.

Stepping into the room, you noted the almost intervention-like setup your parents had arranged themselves in, with your father sitting proudly in his reclining, leather armchair, clad in a dark blue quarter zip and khaki pants. Your mother stood facing the fireplace, arms crossed, in a simple and elegant turquoise dress and hair tied up in a tight and neat bun, with her baby hairs smoothed back to prevent any imperfection. You could almost imagine her pinched mouth, forever encased in a stern and unamused expression. 

“Hello father, mother,” you started, trying to smooth the slight trembling in your voice. Your mother turned around, eyes narrowing at your form, “Sit down.”

You promptly obeyed.

“Your father and I have decided on your marriage. It’ll be to the Min family, to Min Yoongi.”

“What? To him? But,” you began protesting but your mother quickly cut you off with a steely glare. 

“It has already been decided. Your wedding will be in eight months. I’ll forward you the invitation list and you can add three people of your choosing. You’ll be having dinner with us and the Min family on Friday at six. I’ll have Yujin send you an email with further details. Don’t be late.” 

You looked to your father in a desperate plea but were only met with stony silence and a passive face. You turned back to your mother and registered the composed expression painting her face. Your fate had been decided, and it had not worked in your favor at all. Rising slowly, you set your hands by your side and bowed towards your parents, “I understand. I’ll be there.”

Your mother swiftly exited the room, evidently deciding the conversation was over. You could hear her dangling earrings tinkling against each other in what felt like a mocking melody. Your father calmly produced a cigar from the table next to him and lit up, no longer acknowledging you either. You let out another slow breath and walked out. 

Collecting your coat from Mrs. Oh, who tried to give you a comforting shoulder squeeze but it felt more like condolences than anything, and made your way to your car parked in front of the gate closing off your parents’ home. 

That’s it then.

You felt eerily calm yet stressed as you started up your car and carefully reversed out, making sure to avoid hitting the carved statues your parents had in front of the iron gate. As you drove home, your mind started racing with the information you had been relayed. 

Min Yoongi as your soon-to-be-husband? What irony.

Does he even know you exist?

Will you be able to survive this?

Hand gripping the steering wheel hard, you quickly dialed the most recent number in your contact list. She answered after only two rings.

“Y/N! Are you still alive? How’d it go?”

“Hi Joohee, not great. I’m completely and totally fucked.”

Joohee chuckled on the other end of the line, “Want to come over?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “I was hoping you’d offer.”

“I’ll get the booze.”

“Min Yoongi? Now that’s ironic,” Joohee chuckled, seemingly at your expense. You shot a glare her way which she shrugged in response to.

“How long have you been crushing on him? This is, like, practically fate. Maybe this’ll be a good thing.”

You scoffed in response, “A good thing? Joohee, be serious. The last thing I want to do is get with my long-time infatuation, not crush, by forcing him to be my husband.” You took another swig of wine. It was a cheap pink Moscato, perfect for nights like these with Joohee. 

Joohee shoved a pillow in your direction in an effort to gain more room on the couch you had stuffed yourselves onto. The trash reality dating show you had on in the background was showing a rather dramatic fight but you paid it no attention, “It’s just…I haven’t talked to him in the last, what, five years? He probably doesn’t even remember me. And you’ve heard the rumors, I don’t think he’ll be exactly thrilled at giving up his playboy lifestyle just because he has to marry me.”

“What if he doesn’t give that up?”

You stared at Joohee in slight surprise, “What do you mean?”

“Like, what if he says that he doesn’t want to stop hooking up with other people? What will you do?”

Your brows furrowed as you considered the question, “I don’t know, I guess. I mean, I can’t really stop him. I guess I’d just have to live with it.”

Joohee hummed in response before continuing on, “Well, this is happening whether you like it or not. Just try to make it amicable at the least. Maybe it’ll work out, you never know. Just look at Jin oppa.”

Kim Seokjin, Joohee’s older brother and a friend of Min Yoongi’s, was arranged by Joohee’s parents to marry Song Yeonhee, and the two had seemingly fallen in love after a rocky start to their nuptials. You had seen them recently at Yeonhee’s baby shower and she had been glowing, looking unbelievably happy. You recalled the loving gaze that Seokjin had sent her during the party and the pang of envy you felt, knowing that you would likely never get to experience that. 

“Yeah, well,” you responded, “He’s an outlier. Most of these types of marriages don’t work out. I have a feeling I’m going to be a part of that group.”

“You’re too negative, you haven’t even met him for dinner yet. Maybe he’ll surprise you. You just have to give him the chance.”

You mulled over Joohee’s words and nodded, “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess I’ll see how Friday goes.”

You weren’t technically late. 

While you still had about 5 minutes before the dinner officially started, you weren’t early, and that was unacceptable by your mother’s standards. A mini emergency at your job had left you scrambling to leave on time, only noticing the late hour when one of your coworkers asked if they should order take-out for the team. After profusely apologizing to your team, they encouraged you to go, practically shooing you out the door, claiming they could handle the situation for now. 

Which left you barely on time to park in the lot outside the ridiculously fancy Japanese restaurant your mother’s assistant, Yujin, had sent to your email earlier that week. You quickly stepped out, smoothing out your dress that you had kept in the backseat of your car and had hastily changed into in the parking lot of your office. Tugging down the hem, you took a moment to look at your reflection in your car window and attempt to look more presentable. Your hair was slightly frizzy but nicely combed back, and you had extremely minimal makeup on from only remembering last minute this morning, and your eyes looked tired. 

You felt tired.

Shaking off your nerves, you headed inside the restaurant giving your family name to the hostess who took you back to a private room where your mother and father were waiting. Your father spared you only a cursory glance before returning his gaze to his phone and your mother looked you up and down before uttering a curt, “Hm.” You held in an eye roll and quickly sat next to them, trying to calm your heart rate for the sure-to-be exhilarating dinner ahead. At six on the dot, you spotted the same hostess leading the Min family towards your table. Your mother stood, welcoming them and urging them to sit down. You stood as well, a little less welcoming, a lot more obligated. 

Mrs. Min looked like the epitome of a rich older woman with dark black hair combed back and glittering jewels lining her ears and neck, complementing the midnight blue gown she had on. Mr. Min was dressed quite similarly to your father, in a simple suit, the only difference being his starkly greying hair providing quite the contrast to his dark blazer. Close behind them was the person you were the most anxious about meeting, Min Yoongi. His pitch-black hair complemented his slightly tanned skin nicely and his feline eyes remained straightforward and untelling. He was dressed in a simple black suit as well with an expensive-looking watch adoring his wrist. His mouth was closed tightly and he did not smile at your mother when she greeted him, not at your father when they sat down across from your family, and certainly not at you.

Your hands nervously played with each other in your lap as you took your seat again. You listened quietly as the mothers exchanged pleasantries and the fathers gruffly greeted each other. You were trying to avoid looking at Yoongi as much as possible.

“So, Y/N,” Mrs. Min started, making you startle to attention, “How old are you now?”

“Twenty-nine, ma’am.”

“Ah, so only a bit younger than Yoongi. That’s good then. How is your work?”

You felt your father stiffen next to you and prayed your discomfort didn’t show on your face, “Good. I’m in the middle of producing a new project with my team.”

“How lovely. Although I’m sure you’ll be leaving that soon after the wedding. You won’t need to work then after all,” Mrs. Min smiled at you. It was hard to read her so you couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or not, though if you had to guess, it was likely the latter. Your job was a point of contention with your family. Choosing to work in a video game production company did not go over well, and if your older brother, Kyungsoo, hadn’t been in line to inherit Seo Industries, you would’ve never been able to keep it. 

You smiled awkwardly in response to Mrs. Min and returned your gaze to the empty plate in front of you. 

As the conversation dragged on, you couldn’t help but steal a glance or two at Yoongi, who was periodically checking his phone and looking permanently bored of the conversation. Not that you could blame him. The dull talk of social circle gossip and work was beginning to get grating, and even the introduction of fancy entrees wasn’t enough to stop your stomach from feeling queasy. 

Yoongi had yet to say one word to you. To be fair, you hadn’t said anything to him either, but he had barely looked in your direction since he entered the private dining room. How exactly were you supposed to start a conversation with that? 

Soon after the desserts came out and were finished, with you politely refusing, feeling like you were going to throw up any second, Mrs. Min suddenly pushed her chair back and stood. She looked down at you and Yoongi and announced, “Well. I think we can leave them to talk on their own for a bit. Why don’t you join us for a drink at our home, Eujin-ssi?”

At the sound of her name, your mother stood, nodding, “Yes, that sounds lovely. Let’s let them get to know each other a bit more.” With that, the parents swiftly gathered their belongings and left, before you could even protest, leaving you staring open-mouthed at the exit. 

Slowly, you turned to face Yoongi and were startled, seeing his eyes already boring into yours. 

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Yoongi stated, his deep and stable voice wrapping around you for the first time that night, “This marriage means nothing to me. It shouldn’t to you either. I’ll do my thing and you do yours. Most importantly, stay out of my life except when necessary. Just because my parents are forcing my hand doesn’t mean I have to adhere to every little thing. Nothing will be changing except for our living situation and a ring on our fingers.”

A little stunned, you could only stutter a passive agreement and watch as he rose and left without sparing you another glance. 

Letting out a deep breath, you closed your eyes, trying to understand what had just transpired. Your heart raced as you quickly stacked up the dishes to be a bit easier for the busboy and quickly made your way to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you vaguely registered Min Yoongi’s cold demeanor towards you.

It seems he didn’t remember you after all.

The dress you had on was itchy, but you knew if you complained, you would only end up with a sharp stinging on your cheek and tear-filled eyes. You had escaped the boring party with grown-ups and were sitting outside on a stone bench in the garden, trying to remedy your hurt feelings at the hands of the mean, older boy, Hyunsoo. 

He had confidently poked fun at your appearance, saying the dress was a bit too small on you and that your parents should’ve sprung for a size that could fit an elephant instead. He continued on, saying your parents must’ve forgotten to vaccinate you for measles considering all the red spots on your face that were actually acne. Being a tender twelve years of age and going through the worst bits of puberty, his words hit you hard and you quickly ran from the scene into the garden. 

Unable to contain your tears, they slipped down your face in large droplets and soaked into the front of your dress. 

“Hey, you.”

Startled, you looked up to see a boy a couple of years older than you standing in front of you, black hair shining in the light from the garden lamps. His sharp eyes trailed down your tear-stained face. You quickly turned away in shame, not wanting to undergo any more embarrassment tonight. 

“Hey, snot-face.”

You shot him a glare but softened when you saw his hand extended, holding a handkerchief, his face turned slightly away, “Use this. You look ugly while you’re crying.”

You gingerly took the cloth from his hands and blew your nose, noticing him wince out of the corner of your eye. 

“Thank you,” you managed and he only rolled his eyes in response. 

“Yeah, whatever. I think Joohee’s looking for you,” he grumbled before turning on his heel and stalking off back towards the party. 

Confused, your eyes followed after him, not knowing how he knew that Joohee would be looking for you. You unfolded the handkerchief and noticed an elegant embroidering of three letters in black near the bottom, MYG. 

Oh, you realized, Min Yoongi. Joohee’s older brother was friends with him but you had never seen him before. Joohee had described him as kind of rude and quite closed off, but you disagreed. He certainly didn’t seem that bad.

masterlist / next

[doccywhomst]

old dr who whump sketch found while packing - eight after killing eva in vampire science

[sneakboots]

Eva Waiting

“I’ve remained in this dreadful place waiting for you.”

[sneakboots]

YOU GET IT YOU GET IT!

Some behind the scenes of AURORA from the Your Blood music video set

[radiokathryn-if]

DEMO ☯︎ FAQ ☮︎ DIRECTORY ♪

Nate Nicks has disappeared.

Why should you care? Do you?

You probably should, considering he's the face and host of your extremely popular radio show and you've just landed one of the biggest contracts of your careers.

You are a sound tech engineer and a damn good one at that, while Nate was the face you were the sound, usually your work is strictly behind the scenes, except for the odd occasion when you were needed on air. So when Nate goes missing and you're tasked with filling in his shoes you're practically thrown in at the deep end.

It only gets worse after a missing persons case becomes a murder case and the cast and crew of Radio Kathryn and FloNote Ent become the suspect pool...

RADIO KATHRYN is rated 18+ for explicit language, explicit sexual scenes and references, themes of death and blood, use of alcohol and drugs, physical abuse and violence. please check trigger warnings.

The setting of the 70s is purely for aesthetic and technology. Don't expect era—accurate racism or homophobia as it won't be included in this IF.

FEATURES ☯︎ [ Trigger Warnings ]

fully customise your MC! name, gender&pronouns (M/F/NB), appearance, personality

decide your on air persona──can you hack it in the limelight or will you crack under the pressure?

build your relations──do you get along with your fellow teammates? how about your fanbase? or your company?

+your radio teams backstory──how the four of you (Nate, José, Mica and yourself) got along, created the pirated radio show, how you got signed into legality, how everything went to shit... or not?

romance someone (or not)──featuring eight solo routes and two poly routes OR just enjoy the mystery and figure out a murder!

chose paths that affect the game──your choices matter, and the ending you may or may not get is dependent on them.

decide which kathryn is your mother──and your relationship with her. (Catherine, Kate, Cathy, Katherine or Rynnie)

CHARACTER BREAKDOWN ☮︎ [ RO Intros ]

The Man, The Myth, The Legend. [???]

“Nate Nicks” Nathan Nicholson──he/him. 28. Radio Kathryn's host and front man, adored by thousands. Complete arsehole but somehow it makes him endearing to others. Cocky son of a bitch that let fame get to his head... or is he? Nevertheless, he's missing now and you may have something to do with it.

think a mix between gauge burek and chris veres in druck (2019)

The Benefactor.

“Mr Robinson” Lionel Robinson──he/him. 42. The man who funded your radio show, the one who got you to where you are. Kind, calm and considerate, especially with Nate. But every one has a line to cross at some point and Mr Robinson is not someone to get angry.

think chad michael murray in sullivan's crossing (2023)

The Fiancé. [RO]

“Eva Vidal” Evangeline Vidal──she/her. 25. The woman who's been there from the beginning, your first listener, your first fan. You used to be closer but Nate sunk his teeth in her and pulled her away. You watched her steadily lose her glow and for someone engaged she seems quite jaded at the news of her missing fiancé.

think penélope cruz in vanilla sky (2001) or vicky christina barcelona (2008)

The Best Friend. [RO]

“Mica Hollens” Michael/a Hollens──he/him, she/her. your age (24─28). Your voice of reason in the chaos of life and Radio Kathryn's manager. Your support system and rock, even if they are a bit quick to jump the bullet in your honour. Mica has strong opinions and Nate has never been in their good books, but surely they wouldn't do anything to jeopardise your job.

think tanaya beatty in through black spruce (2018) or alex meraz in mine games (2012)

The Detective. [RO]

“Detective Han” Han Jimin──he/him or she/her. 30. The detective assigned to Nate's missing persons case. They are meticulous and goal oriented and their current goal is figuring you and your work family out. The more you resist the more they're intrigued and the more you help the more you unravel them.

think lee soohyuk in tomorrow (2022) or lee siyoung in sweet home (2020)

The Rival DJ. [RO]

“José Danger” Jose/phine Jeager──she/her or they/them. 26. Nate calls them the traitor─the defector. They used to be part of your team, a co-host with Nate in your beginning days. The two of them worked like magic until Nate was in demand more and José was kicked to the curb. You wonder if the festering grudge they left with is still there... and if it still extends to you.

think zazie beetz in deadpool 2 (2018) or wounds (2019)

The "Hater". [RO]

“Ji Han” Han Ji Young──he/him. 24. The younger brother of Detective Han. Ji Han is not a fan of Nathaniel Nicholson but he is a fan of the songs he plays─or rather the ones you play when he's absent. He's taken the utmost interest in his siblings case, suspiciously enough to become entangled in it more than anticipated.

think a mix of choi san (2022-23) and lee dohyun in 18 again (2020) or the glory (2022)

The "Fan". [RO]

“Fauve” Faye─Mauve Langham──she/her. 25. Fauve is a bit of a groupie, she can admit. She's not totally obsessed with Radio Kathryn, she reasons, she's just invested in the show and even more so in the people behind it. Fauve become more involved in the case of Nate Nicks than she's wanted, leaving you to wonder just what it is that keeps her going─even to the edge of insanity.

think a mix of imogen poots in need for speed (2014) and hayden panettiere in nashville (2012-18)

The Family Man. [RO]

“Mr Lewis” Jackson Lewis──he/him. 33. The night shift receptionist-slash-building coordinator. He usually brings his daughter to sit in on show recordings, seeing as she's got a bit of a crush on Nate─he's a no-bullshit kind of man but his soft spot is his daughter's puppy dog eyes. He just so happens to be the last person to see Nate before he disappeared and you can't help but get the feeling he's not being truthful in his statement about it.

think brian tyree henry in eternals (2021) or atlanta (2016-22)

The Question Mark. [???]

"Who?" ??? ???──unknown.

it'll be revealed later!

©️ bonnie berry 2023────@moretinyideas

──the polymances are between eva and ??? (eva???) as well as fauve and ji han (fauhan)!

──this is totally inspired by episode 2.8 of sister boniface "dead air" but other than the idea of a radio show called Radio Catherine there are no other similarities!

[unwantedshivering]

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

HEADCANONS for KEVIN KATCHADOURIAN as you try and figure out what he truly feels about you.

WARNINGS: mentions of reader death, emotional manipulation, overall toxicity

FOR: Kevin Khatchadourian

NOTES: @slasherscream totally inspired this, their characterization of kevin made me want to write for him !! :) this is entirely too long to be considered hcs btw

HOW IT STARTS

Truly, you believed he hated you. Why else would he stare as though he was trying to telekinetically explode your head? It’s a wonder how you even started hanging around him. It wasn’t necessarily out of your own volition, really, as you were just the Khatchadourians’ neighbor tutoring and hanging out with Celia in exchange for your sibling receiving archery lessons.

You grew up practically adjacent to Eva’s household, so it was just a small, kind gesture you’d do when you visited from college. You remembered that weary, worn down visage of hers from your childhood and let it pull at your heartstrings. You were sensitive, and perhaps that’s what drew him in.

You were watching a kid’s movie with Celia, and unbeknownst to you: Kevin was eyeing you.

He wasn’t usually home, off in his room when he wasn’t attending his own classes. Quiet. Off-putting as he would taper down the creaking steps, barely acknowledging your presence before leaving. Usually he’d grab an apple, glance over you as if you were nothing but air.

It was intriguing to you. Kevin had always been intriguing to you. He was unnaturally, uncannily pretty. Like a bust set on display within his own modern-century home, you couldn’t touch or manage to decipher him. It was embarrassing to say he had been the face of several boyfriends in your silly teenage dreams.

It was pure happenstance as he came down just in time to watch as you hiccuped during the movie, tears streaming down your face. Celia was long-gone off in dreamland on the couch.

It wasn’t enthrallment that Kevin felt. It wasn’t even want. It was a sick, morbid curiosity. Celia, despite her humanity, wasn’t entertaining to Kevin anymore. Not as she was when she was eight and entirely naïve, cut bare in her love for her big brother.

You gave him something new. He halted in his steps. For the first time in simply years, you heard Kevin speak to you.

“Stay a little bit longer.”

Through your own bewilderment, you agreed. Kevin had no reason to continue his sweet, loving son act. Not really. Still, he smiled something that could only be described as honey. It was drenched in a sickening sweetness, something with a bite. A bit of blood in his teeth.

He took you archery shooting. It was way past the acceptable time for you to be in the Khatchadourian household, and yet you stayed. Fly wrapped in silk. Bug to be eaten, saved for later.

It felt magical to be the center of Kevin Khatchadourian’s attention. In school he was a little misunderstood and disconcerting, but nothing truly horrific happened. It was that same quietness he displayed that made him so elusive, so lovely to you.

He displayed amazing skill when it came to archery, a terrifying mastery. You only chuckled nervously when it whizzed past you, making your hair stand on end and fingers clench.

“I’m sorry,” he said, yet it was low, accompanied by eyes that seemed anything but apologetic. “You should really stand on the side, I must’ve overshot it.”

HOW HE IS IN THE BEGINNING

As you continued staying longer, mutual exchange forgotten, he grew more and more expressionless. The most he would usher you was a glance under firm eyebrows, a wry little twitch of lips when you did something particularly amusing. You felt like a piece of brain tissue on a petri dish.

Kevin was actually scarily kind to your sibling and family though. It was like a flip-switch: he went from helping your mother with carrying dinner to silently staring at you, trying to pick apart your body, all smiles and good-boy mirth gone from his eyes. Most of the time, he fiddled with his technology as you did your own thing. Reading? He’d be clicking away, his incessant typing as your white noise. Crochet? Doing it outside as he practiced archery. Talking? He’d stare to let you know he’s listening.

Unfortunately, this still left you neglected. Initiating physicality was on his own terms, and you’d get a quick look before being brushed off if he wasn’t into it. Speaking about your troubles with him is met with silence. At the beginning, it was even met with slight condescension and mockery. One step forward? It didn’t matter, Kevin himself was never going to be able to fulfill all of your needs.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t have other friends. Most of them didn’t know Kevin. If they did, they didn’t speak of him to you; speaking of him made you jittery, a little doe-eyed, but you always spoke of him fondly. They could never understand why.

Kevin knew all your friends. You were at a house party, introducing them with a blinding grin on your face. He disliked them. If there was one thing he held other than apathy, other than wanting to feel more than he’s capable of, it was the need to harbor your attention. You were his only source of anything. You were clearly fond of him, no matter how strange or unnerving he showed to be. You talked seamlessly and mindlessly about your interests. He knew sunsets were pretty, but because he saw them through you. He knew what cafés were the best, what to get his mother for a gift when Frank pressured him to.

In the same breath, Kevin resented and found himself thinking often on that part of you. There wasn’t a way he could name it, but the feeling was dull. It stung a bit, hearing you speak about anything outside of his reach. He liked the sting somedays: it was proof he felt. Other than his heart thrumming in his ears, he felt something other than disdain and unadulterated anger.

He hated feeling jealousy, though.

It was quiet like the rest of him. Your friend, Matt, kept pushing. It was becoming sickeningly obvious that he thought of you more than a friend, and yet whether it be your own denseness or the fact that you’d known Matt since forever, you didn’t stop him. Not the meaningless touches on your arm, not the compliments on things only Kevin thought he’d noticed about you. Sick. Sick. It was that old, juvenile anger he felt spike again.

There was a barely there acknowledgement of the fact that you were attractive. He found you attractive even faintly. Then, there was the notion of your attractiveness shoved in his face. Others found you attractive.

His family already assumed you were dating. You hung around too often for them to not believe so. Your friends? They didn’t know. Before this, Kevin didn’t necessarily care whether or not you were called his significant other or the person he kept around. It was only then where he realized the perks of you being his: no Matt.

It was impulsive. He kissed you. It was under the porch light after Matt hugged you goodbye, and as he started to pull out of the driveway Kevin ducked in for the kill. It was impulsive, a bit too strong, and left you lightheaded like you drank more than you should’ve. Being with Kevin was like being an alcoholic.

There was an emptiness in his eyes as he pulled away. He didn’t even hold your cheek, he simply ducked forward. You felt… odd. Confused and a bit embarrassed that you let him do that simply for his own whim. What you didn’t see were the indents of Kevin’s fingers in the cup he was holding onto the entire time, the way he fiddled with the lighter in his pocket, the way his jaw clenched.

WHY STAY

There’s a certain value Kevin placed on you. You don’t know if it’s that of a toy, lover, or a third scarier option. There’s a big chance you’d never know either.

What you do know is that he’d give you his jacket when it’s cold, and surprisingly he’d take off yours for you when you enter his house. It’s done so casually that you forget it’s typically uncharacteristic of him.

He played nice with Celia when you’re around. He played nice with your family, to the point where you might even misunderstand and believe he wanted them to think highly of him.

Kevin could be awfully kind. It’s never a kindness for the sake of it, but it only ever distinctly shows itself around you. If you were ever sick or vice versa, you’re spending all your time around him for the day.

If he had the fever, he’d push his forehead against yours while you’re both lying down, lazily breathing with his eyes closed. If you were the one ill, Kevin sits on the bed instead, placing one hand on your hand or your forehead. It’s a cool, light feeling. His hand is large enough for it to fully encompass your face if he so wished, or at least your neck, and yet he chose to be gentle.

He doesn’t like the idea of you being special to him though; the fact that you’re exempt from even some of his antagonizing ministrations makes it frustrating. You shouldn’t be. You were something he hung around and dated technically, so the idea of you actually being the definition of a significant other made him heavy in the chest.

If you show that you like the idea of being special to him, at least in the beginning, it’s easier for him to pull away. Whether physically or emotionally, he can shut off completely from you. Deciding to stay is what does it for him. How can you stay? Even with all the silence and work it takes for him to do anything?

His kisses grow less rushed. They’re even somewhat experimental later on. Kevin doesn’t really know if he likes it, but he knows you do. A nip at your lip, eyes closed, fluctuating pressure. He’s a fast learner. He’d pull away prematurely, waiting to see how you’d react. Usually he’d just walk away afterwards like nothing happened, but if he’s feeling the reactive impulse to he’ll duck right back in.

Kisses with Kevin leave you panting. Sometimes you believe he truly is attempting to steal your breath, and he might just be. He has more often than not almost let the arrow hit you when you watch him practice archery. It never does, but it’s always close. There’s a furrow in his brow afterward, like he’s examining how he himself feels on you almost dying by his own hands.

He has also more often than not found that it leaves him annoyed.

[achilles-rage]

introducing my new series, just in time for halloween<3

thirteen crows.

a ghostface!buddie fic

series summary: you’ve seen them many times before; they often come in when you’re working, sitting at the bar and keeping to themselves, and tipping you very generously, regardless of how good your service actually is. the bar you work at isn’t usually that busy, but still, you have some trouble remembering some of the regulars. but not them. not when they’re so nice. and their sweet smiles and broad shoulders definitely aren’t things that are easy to forget. you start to see them so often at the bar that you become friends, often hanging out with them even when you’re not on the clock.

then the killings start.

first, it was people you didn’t know, random people from across the city that you’d never have any reason to run into. but then, people around you start to turn up dead.

you’re afraid, obviously, as is the rest of the city, but you need the money, so it’s not like you can stop going to work. and either way, your bar regulars always promise that nothing will ever happen to you, even though you’re not sure how they’re so sure. but then, everything falls into place when you see something you aren’t supposed to see.

update: chapter one is out now!

this series will be eight chapters, with the last one coming out on halloween! it will be a little darker than my last multi part fic (obviously), but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

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