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thinking about kavinsky, who is a bastard but is also thoughtful, who is an asshole but feels so deeply, who is selfish and cruel but is kind and merciful, kavinsky who does monstrous things but who cares, who protects, who keeps secrets, who watches and learns and sees and understands

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“There’s only with me or against me.”

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[ ID. ] deadman ; postguilt·

   He wishes that he could say that he meant for this to turn out like this. He is the one who tugged on this string. He is the one who followed that lead and didn’t let his team know about what he was looking into. They had a general idea: but he didn’t wait long enough to get approval to make his next move. Asking questions is what got him into this mess. Asking questions is what got him knocked out, waking up in … 

  A shit sty. A sty of shit. 

 And someone is talking to him, words that the agent can parse through how much his head hurts. He knows that he is underground: he can smell the earth. 

 Where is he?

❛ That’s … wonderful. Hey, thanks for the vote of confidence …  ❜ Where is the guy? Stiles’ eyes squint in the darkness, and he sees him. He looks … well, it’s not good for either of them. ❛ How long have you been here? ❜

    “  Anytime,  deadman.  ”  Kavinsky said as he snapped his fingers mockingly in the dark. He watched the badge blink himself back into wakefulness while Kavinsky raised his brows and shifted his weight onto the heels of his trainers and rocked backwards. While he could certainly move, Kavinsky was clearly more restless and fretful than fully mobile. Sweat had soaked into his shirt, hair falling in greasy dark clumps around his face and he was clearly shaking.

“  Couple of days, judging by the shakes.  ”  Kavinsky informed in that same lazy drawl, raising a hand to show the agent the way that his hand was trembling uncontrollably. He figured whoever had grabbed him intended on getting him so strung out that he would be willing to do anything for a line. Which went to show how much they knew about the things Kavinsky could do.

    “  Could be worse. They gave you your own bucket.  ”

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there was nothing about kavinsky that wasn’t despicable.

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀I swallowed crushed ice

pretending it was glass and you’re dead. Ashes to ashes.

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im such a fuckign jealous asshole i pretend like i dont care but i care so much im gonna explode

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Kavinsky + aesthetics

Dear Dick, drive this, ex-oh-ex-oh.

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let’s level up from choking each other to slapping each other

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   “    woof  woof.    ”    kavinsky barked into carlos’ ear without warning, laughing as he leaned back quickly with both hands raised in a lazy, and insincere surrender. kavinsky wore his awfulness proudly and without proper apology, he always had and he doubted that would ever change, but in his defense, carlos always had the best reactions.    “    what,  no  gang  today ?  don’t  tell  me  the  old  hag  has  you  running  errands  again.    ”  //  @dogfearing​  gets  a  random  starter

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     kavinsky stared at the girl through the black lenses of his white framed glasses, he couldn’t tell if it was because he was sober or not, but she looked dull. along with every other inch of henrietta high and henrietta in general since his return from rehab. he was so fucking bored and everyone was so fucking boring. but then she spoke about gansey and by extension, ronan and he felt sick. bile threatening to rise up his throat and fill his mouth. ronan lynch. lynch. lynch, lynch, lynch. and she was looking at him like she knew. like she knew that ronan lynch was a name and knife buried to its hilt in his chest. like she knew that it hurt to think about him and his stupid fucking boyfriends and his stupid fucking brother and all there stupid fucking conversations about stupid fucking welsh kings.

    “    you’re  fucking  weird.    ”    kavinsky said  bluntly. careless with their words, huh? thoughtless  .  .  .  maybe.    “    but  you’re  right  about  this  town.    ”    kavinsky leaned forward just enough so that he could peer over the frames of his glasses at her while he grinned.    “    you  sure   you  got  the  guts  to  check  it  out ?  i  don’t  fuck  around  with  cowards,  you  know ?  you  either  got  balls  or  you  don’t.    ”  //  @nirgama​  continued  from  here

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Product of no dad kids Kids like you and me

trc network challenge:  The Raven Boys / The Dream Pack / The 300 Fox Way ladies

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[ ID. ] arthur ; shiftergene

frustration starts to cling to bones as arthur continues to listen to the man;  the urge to punch him is strong,  but he resists.     the underground likes to use kavinsky for some damn reason,  and arthur is struggling to know why.     so instead,  he keeps trying to play nice.      “i get that,  but we weren’t able to get enough for four hundred;  so we were hoping that you would have some kind of remorse and just let us do an iou.”     a mother with a son is racing against the clock to skip the border and go to mexico where the mutant laws are just a little looser,  but they need those driver licenses.       “please.”

     kavinsky watched the others visible struggle and grinned in the face of the unspoken threat. violence, was something kavinsky liked, even if it did come from the desperate.    “    that  sounds  like  a  you  problem  to  me,  man.    ”    kavinsky remarked dryly, there was a feeling not unlike the sense when one poked a bear, like one more jab and the other would snap. kavinsky wondered what it would look like if he need, mutants always had the best surprises up their sleeves.

    “    no  iou’s.    ”    something in kavinsky’s expression seemed to dampen when the other said ‘please’, a mixture of disappointment and contempt. kavinsky didn’t do iou’s, iou’s were for pussies. iou’s were asking for every desperate asshole to come crawling to him on their hands and knees for hand outs and kavinsky hated desperation.    “    i’ll  give  you  both  of  them,  but  you  have  to  run  a  little  errand  with  me  AND,    ”    kavinsky pointed his cigarette at the other,    “    this  time  next  week  i  get  the  other  two  hundred.    ”

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[ ID ] wayne ; milletant·

eyes narrowed slightly, trying to place the boy. With looks like that, he couldn’t just be anybody. And dressed the way he was, he doubted he was walking around without having caught at least an eye or two. A quick scan of the room shows none of the armed guards are even paying him any attention which told Bruce two things. He was either that talented at being unassuming that he could rival even Clark Kent or they were well aware about who he was and didn’t care. 

He was willing to bet on the latter. 

“ Who doesn’t?” Bruce finally asked, gaging the boy’s interest as nothing but bad but willing to risk it. What was a couple of thousand dollars to Bruce Wayne after all? He turned towards his rows of chips and then back at him. Picking up a few chips, he slid it towards the dealer. “ Red for 10,000.”

    kavinsky enjoyed gambling, especially high stakes. while most people played in order not to lose, kavinsky always played to win but games of chance like roulette relied most often on sheer dumb luck. except for today. today roulette, just like every other table, had a trick, a cheat in place to ensure that the house won and kavinsky had the key. kavinsky watched as wayne made his bet, a gleeful look cutting across kavinsky’s face when he bet red as instructed. and why not? what was ten grand to someone like bruce wayne? what real risk was there if he lost because of some stupid kid telling him to bet red?

the wheel spun, the ball bounced and kavinsky winked at the hot shot billionaire as it landed in the red. kavinsky leaned his chin into his palm and sniggered, something mischief making his eyes look brighter than they were.    “    call  me  the  gift  that  keeps  on  giving.  bet  black.    ”    kavinsky said, practically oozing confidence.

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Haha, remember when Kavinsky said “I hate being alone”? And then few pages after this, Ronan left him? Alone? Haha, I do. Totally not crying right now, haha.