crawls on the dash .......... just a lil update for u all : i am in the throws of finals and it is wrecking me ! i have two more weeks to go and then i will be here to do replies! i apologize for the silence here + on discord but! im trying my best and hope to be back soon :-)
7 notes
·
View notes
KOROLNICHEVOYA / KETTRDAMNED :
𝙱𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝙳 𝙾𝙵 𝚁𝙰𝚅𝙺𝙰 / 𝙱𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝙳 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙴𝙻 :
𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙻𝚂 𝚃𝙾 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴.
6 notes
·
View notes
CAPTAIN GHAFA.
for so long, inej imagined her life outside of ketterdam, free as a bird to spread her wings and explore the seas. she never thought she would grow attached to the lives she grown close to in her indenture, including kaz. she never thought that she would see a crack in his armor, or a softer edge to him – but as time carried on, he surprised even her. when inej takes to the seas again, her heart aches for the people she leaves behind – jesper and his witty jokes that can make anyone smile even in the damnest moments; wylan and his intellect that amazes her; nina whose strength inej carries with her everyday; and one day, she hopes to find where matthias is buried and kiss the stone. but she also leaves behind kaz: a story that could have been, but they were just a little too late. two ships in passing – her wraith, and his city.
she received the letters he speaks of, and a glint of guilt flashes across her features. time after time, she wanted to write back – but every time she held the pen, she has never been able to find the same poetic hum that she always felt whenever she would read and re-read in his letters. she keeps them tucked in a drawer in her desk on the wraith, tucked away for her to turn to when she finds herself longing for kaz. nothing she wrote ever felt good enough to send to kaz; futile ‘lest she were to stand in front of him. inej wanted to tell kaz about the islands she has visited, the beautiful nature that engulfs her, and the characters she meets whenever she docks. she wanted to tell him everything. but she wanted to do it in person, and read every line that bleeds to his war torn countenance, and understand all the whispers of him.
“i’ve received them,” inej confirms, timbre soft but firm. as if she needs to be strong in the face of kaz. even now, she can feel her steely resolve waver – it always does with him. raw vulnerability seeps into the air, but inej doesn’t look away from the other. “and how are you, kaz? are you well?” or do you sometimes find yourself looking to your side, expecting the ghost of me – just like i do with you?
she received them. her words burn a hole through his chest –– the knowledge of things left unsaid, of things thought yet not spoken, his fingertips burning where the ghost of her has lingered in his mind. everywhere kaz turned, inej was there. he’d thought distance would rid him of the plague her presence set upon him ––– the constant ache of missing her, of wanting to be nearer to her, wanting to close the distance between them [ . . . ] foolish thoughts meant for a man better than him, someone who could at least look inej in the eye without feeling weak in the knees.
something left unsaid : she did not respond. she received his letters, yet his words went unanswered. suddenly, kaz feels like a boy again : his heart on display, hers for the taking, surprisingly raw despite his better judgement. he pushes down the flush of embarrassment he feels ––– he’d been foolish to impose his own careless wants onto inej, to think of her as beholden to him simply because . . . what? he cared for her? he’d helped free her from the cruel grip of tante heleen, as if that indebted her to return a few silly letters? it wasn’t the man he wanted to be. it wasn’t the man inej deserved. he shoves away his hurt with a shake of his head & gazes past her, seeking anything but the gripping gaze of inej’s moon - lit eyes.
❝ i’m ––– ❞ he is the raising of the tide, the crash of the sea ’gainst the shore : conflicting impulses. what to say to her that would be enough? what would quell this aching inside him? foolish, yes, but still he aches. ––– he settles with honesty. ( she deserves that at least. ) ❝ i missed you. ❞ an admission of the heart, laid bare & bleeding before her [ . . . ] it seems to be too much. ❝ we all did. ❞
3 notes
·
View notes
WYLAN ...
his father cannot keep him from the public eye forever, as much as it would benefit them both, so wylan is allowed to attend a party every now and again… it is mostly a game of avoiding those who would ask too many questions, skirting around whatever curious glances might be thrown his way [ his father is never at his side: he sticks with alys, who seems to want to snake out from his arm and find a nice place to sing ]. wylan sifts through bodies, he exaggerates smiles to the best of his ability, he grabs drinks as they pass by on pretty silver. still, two hours surrounded by the heat of bodies he barely knows is enough for him… he finds himself in a stranger’s bedroom, eyes fluttered shut to stave off a headache. IF HE WERE STUPIDER, HE’D IMAGINE A FATHER THAT FRETS WHEN HIS SON IS NO LONGER IN HIS LINE OF SIGHT. he knows that this is a benefit to them both, though – sparing the humiliation of the son and the father, an almost holy unsacrifice. his head snaps up when a body enters, dressed in a waiter’s garb. in someone’s bedroom…? ‘ are you looking for a bathroom? ’ @kettrdamned
VAN ECK. kaz is familiar enough with the name ––– partly due to the propriety of the family, partly due to kaz’s own research. he took it upon himself to become familiar with every member of the ton –––– especially those whom’s pockets he's spent the night ruffling through. of course, van eck hardly made it hard. there were whispers of him throughout the crow club; the usual chatter of gossip of how, exactly, the van eck name came into such fortune, how jan van eck’s previous wife seemed to mysteriously disappear, but what intrigued kaz most was the talk of jan van eck’s son ––– a seemingly fine match as far as the men & women of the season were concerned, yet he was only scarcely seen during the events of the season, & even rarer was his hunt for a match. there were rumors, of course ––– whispers of illegitimacy, tales the younger van eck was nothing but a bastard, yet kaz had the sense that something deeper kept jan van eck’s son only an arm reach away; an arm reach that now sends wylan into kaz’s very unsuspecting arms.
❝ no, sir. ❞ he forces himself to play the role he’s slotted himself into for tonight ––– a humble waiter who bows at the sight of wylan, meager & shy, submitting to his superior. it makes kaz want to gag. ❝ your father sent me. he was worried. i’m to report your whereabouts, sir. ❞ a lie that falls easily enough from his tongue. he pretends to hesitate, to bite his tongue, to weigh the consequences of his next words [ . . . ] then, with a hint of understanding in his tone : ❝ or perhaps there’s a reason you’re up here, sir? ❞ if there was anything kaz valued more than stolen gems, it was secrets, & he wouldn’t pass on his chance at obtaining any information he could to level against jan van eck [ . . . ] even if that meant deceiving the son of one of the wealthiest members of the ton.
3 notes
·
View notes
FREDDY CARTER for ZOO Magazine
348 notes
·
View notes
THE DEADPOOL.
❝ all fledglings think like that … but i assure you , my help is far more valuable then you’d think. ❞ wade had connections , people who owed him some favors. all it would take is a few phone calls, and the little bird could have as much blood on his hands as he’d like with minimal effort. ❝ if anyone understands , kid, it’s me. i’ve been down this path. vengeance is fun , trust me … i get it. you wanna ride the high alone , but sometimes being alone isn’t the better option. that’s all i’m sayin’ ❞ gaze runs over the mask sitting opposite from him , the beaked thing lay between him and the identity of the crow. wade wasn’t one for seeking secrets , but he can’t help but wonder if it would be a good idea to learn what keeps the bird afloat. the last thing wade wants is for this little bird to crumble before he’s even truly flown.
lips quirk upwards, shifting the mask around on his features. ❝ my spider is a genius , but he’s not the smartest. ❞ contradictory statement is left on the table between them , allowing the bird to mull it over before — ❝ that’s why he has me. i’ll die before i allow someone to get to him. ❞ confession is said without fear, without even a thought of repercussions. wade isn’t sure he likes this topic of conversation. the crow was too focused on him.
the mercenary is grateful for the change of topic. a croaking laugh falls from lips before : ❝ at one point , i was in your shoes, little bird. perhaps even a little worse. i want to help you - make sure that you achieve your goals before the heroes decide you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. ❞ another laugh and then… ❝ do you still need your mama to regurgitate your food for you ? you’re awfully young. ❞
though kaz wasn’t overly fond of the way the mercenary seemed to go about things, he had to admit that the deadpool did have one point : kaz needed help. working alone had only been successful thus far, but the crow wasn’t too proud to admit that without assistance, he wouldn’t be able to get much further in his endeavors. still ––– there was safety in his loneliness. since the blip, kaz had steeled himself away, walling himself up in an act of self - preservation : they can’t hurt you if they can’t get close enough to do so. in fact, he thinks that this was the most he’d spoken to anyone who wasn’t an employee of the crow club in months ––– perhaps that’s why he indulges in the ravings of the deadpool for this long, why he tolerates his fanatical way of looking at things or the care - free attitude that causes kaz to grind his jaw in frustration.
STILL [ . . . ] kaz hesitates. ––– though his company surely proved to be [ . . . ] entertaining at the very least, kaz isn’t entirely sure he yet trusted the mercenary. obviously his loyalties lied elsewhere; the fondness coating his tone as he spoke of his spider - man was proof enough of that, & kaz knew better than anyone that love was a weakness [ . . . ] not meant for men like them, men with death for lovers, whose hands knew nothing of gentility, only the violence they were borne of. it was only a matter of time before the death they wrought caught up to them, & it was better to leave matters of the heart out of it. ––– kaz knew that & if the deadpool didn’t know it already, he would soon enough.
❝ i work alone. ❞ a simple statement, nonchalant & paired with a sip of the drink he holds, yet the truth of it weighs heavy on his shoulders. even kaz could admit that he could benefit from the information deadpool held, the seemingly infinite resources the mercenary possessed. ❝ . . . how could you be of help to me? ❞
6 notes
·
View notes
just a lil ooc update here! i may be slower than usual since i have a shit ton of projects due next week coming off of spring break that are pretty important, so i may be quiet both here and on discord for the next few weeks as finals are quickly approaching as well <3
3 notes
·
View notes
Simone de Beauvoir, from Diary of a Philosophy Student: Volume 2, 1928-9; Sunday, November 4th
Text ID: Tonight, with intensity, I imagine that you are able to love me enough to desire to come back for me—enough to think of me with this heartbreak that is often in me when I think of you. And I am overwhelmed.
3K notes
·
View notes
christophernolan:
THE OA Season 2, Episode 4 | ‘Syzygy’
370 notes
·
View notes
there is apprehension to how kaz stands before the darkling now. kaz typically wasn’t one to waver to the needs of powerful men, yet after the things he had witnessed aboard the skiff bound for novokribirsk, the very trip the supposed sun saint had left the darkling for the man - eating volcra, even kaz felt the grip of fear clutch in his chest as he stands before the darkling. whether that anxiety stems from the darkling seemingly rising from the dead or the threat of having to answer to the previous crimes he’d committed in this very palace remained to be seen. still ––– kaz does not waver. he forces himself to stand strong before the darkling, his shoulders squared & chin raised in defiance as he leans against his cane. surely, whatever the darkling had summoned him for couldn’t be good ––– no one requested the presence of a barrel rat unless they needed something.
❝ whatever it is you want from me, get to it. i have a business to get back to. ❞
@merzoverenyi / SC.
1 note
·
View note
「 RP MEME : ONLY ONE BED . 」
* change pronouns as needed .
‘ why did you book us one room? ’
‘ i’m sleeping on the left. ’
‘ just a warning, i hog the covers. ’
‘ if you snore, i’m hitting you. ’
‘ it’s fine. i’ll take the floor. ’
‘ it’s so hot in here. ’
‘ there’s no way this bed is big enough for you and me. ’
‘ hey! no cover hogging. ’
‘ i didn’t mean to wake you. ’
‘ i have to face the door. ’
‘ come on! i’m so cold. ’
‘ don’t feel like you have the take the floor on my account. ’
‘ we’ll be fine. ’
‘ maybe we should cozy up together. ’
‘ this is going to be the best night ever. ’
‘ the innkeeper said this is the last room. ’
‘ i was having such a good dream, too… ’
‘ there’s not even a couch in here? ’
‘ i think it’s big enough for both of us. ’
‘ you think we could get a refund? ’
‘ can you close the curtains? ’
‘ shh, it’s okay. i’m here. ’
‘ you’re kind of warm. ’
‘ there’s no way we can exchange rooms now. ’
‘ aren’t you cold? ’
‘ don’t look at me! ’
‘ i sleep commando, just so you know. ’
‘ come here. ’
‘ how could i have known? i was in a rush! ’
‘ you have to be freezing down there. ’
‘ i’m not facing you. ’
‘ haha, i never knew you had such bedhead. ’
‘ sorry, did i wake you? ’
‘ do you normally have nightmares like this? ’
‘ this is going to be the worst night ever. ’
‘ sharing a bed with a pretty girl like you? count me in. ’
‘ why the hell did they book a room with a single bed? ’
‘ i know we’re undercover and all, but this is a little extreme. ’
‘ we can sleep in shifts. i’ll take the first watch. ’
‘ don’t even think about cuddling me. ’
‘ it was just a dream. ’
‘ i heard you calling their name. ’
‘ you sleep like a rock. ’
‘ did you know you snore? ’
‘ you did this on purpose, didn’t you? ’
2K notes
·
View notes
there’s blood on his knuckles [ . . . ] it takes him too long to realize it’s his own. he knows he should feel the pain, yet his heart still hammers in his chest, adrenaline still courses through his veins, embarrassment still colors his cheeks a soft pink. why had he called jesper jordie? ––– kaz doesn’t know. he doesn’t want to think about it. he doesn’t want to keep seeing the eyes of his brother each time he looks at jesper, each time his fist moves to connect with jesper’s shoulder, his jaw. he didn’t want to be reminded of each way he’d lived to disappoint his brother since the day he’d died.
he forces himself to focus on the pain instead, a sharp inhale expressed through his nostrils as he uses a handkerchief to dab at the spot on his right brow where jesper managed to knick him. he says nothing as he cleans the wound, sparing a glance to jesper only when he extends a gloved hand to offer him his handkerchief to clean his own wounds ––– an olive branch extended, a silent offer of apology shining through the veil of kaz’s pride.
@crowshoots / SC.
1 note
·
View note
once i’m finished reading rule of wolves .... i’m gonna re-read soc / ck so i can make a masterlist of top ten times kaz brekker was autistic in canon (not clickbait)
10 notes
·
View notes
small headcanons to go along with my last post
- kaz is VERY messy. he has things in all corners of his room, taking up every inch of space. however! he is very organized with his mess. everything has a place and he knows where everything is. it looks very chaotic but it’s not.
- his room is the one place where kaz can truly be himself and let his guard fall (hence why it has multiple different locking mechanisms ––– he’s smart enough to know he can’t truly be safe, but he takes every liberty he can to ensure that he can be while in his room)
- inej is the only member of the dregs to have ever been in kaz’s room
- most items in kaz’s rooms are stolen (especially the large, ornate paintings). things not stolen he saved up enough to purchase, although he usually buys them second-hand and for cheaper than they’re worth at things like estate sales when wealthy merchants die; kaz likes to feel fancy with his furniture, but he also loves a good bargain
4 notes
·
View notes
CROWGREEDS / CAS.
Kaz’s words lash out, like a thorny whip meant to tear into their skin and make them bleed. Except… they already have been bleeding. For years ever since he had narrowly avoided death, only to wake up and discover his brother gone without a trace. He had tried searching for him, desperately reaching out for the one that had always been there, only for nothing to respond no matter how he called and screamed. Eventually someone had answered their calls but it hadn’t been Kazimir that came but rather someone else entirely — grisha that belonged to a palace in a far off country.
At first he hadn’t been very cooperative, Cassius had kicked and yelled, lashing out at the people trying to help him with everything that he had. He hadn’t wanted to leave, because what if his brother happened to come back for him and he missed him? He never would have been able to forgive himself if that happened, but the grisha trying to haul him off had told him that they were simply trying to help him, that there was no one coming back for him, and something in Cas broke.
They hadn’t fought back after that, not outright anyway. A bitterness had blossomed forth after that — at the brother that abandoned them and towards the people that took them away too. It had taken root in his heart, made him distant and quiet as he was thrust into an unfamiliar world with unfamiliar people and a language he barely understood a word of. He ached for home but he had just been a boy, how could he have possibly found a way back with no money and countless dangers such as The Fold and slavers between him and there?
Still, he had tried, running from the Little Palace several times seeking a way back home so that he could search for all that he had lost. One time he had been caught by witch-hunters and in the struggle one of them had cut him across the throat with their weapon. He’d have bled out if not for the timely arrival of the grisha that come to collect them and the healer amongst them, but still they were left with a shiny scar across their throat.
He had fought, had seen war, and the horrors of the fold more than he cared to recall. Their experiences weren’t the same as Kaz’s and perhaps their twin is right in that regard — that they aren’t the same. Not anymore, maybe they never had been, really, truly.
But that didn’t mean he hadn’t done things, that he hadn’t suffered too.
In moments Cas is on their feet too, staring their brother directly in the eye, their chin held high despite the viciousness that Kaz is burning them with. Mutedly he realizes how tight his hands are clenched too, his palms stinging from where his nails dig into the skin. “No, I can’t imagine the things that you have done, but neither can you. You have no idea what I’ve been through, what I’ve endured after you left me. Yet here you are acting as if only you have suffered— well guess what? You aren’t.”
A pause, silence stretching between them as something worn and bitter settles upon their face. “Maybe you’re right, maybe I am a fool for thinking perhaps we could find some common ground again. So why are you still here Kazimir?”
why was he here? –––– he didn’t know. part of him still longs for the moment of reunion he’d been longing for; the moment where they fling into one another’s arms, cry for the loss they’d suffered, & come together again stronger, closer than they’d been before [ . . . ] he’d known better, yet hope was a monster of its own, digging its claws in his chest & latching itself to his heart, festering there until it was all kaz could think of. it was a foolis thought, a dream that belonged to the naive boy he’d once been, the boy who fell for jakob hertzoon’s tricks, who believed that life would be better in ketterdam, the boy he’d promised himself he would never be again. stupid. kaz brekker was not someone meant for things like hope. kaz brekker was meant for death & destruction, for cruelty & coldness & whatever other monstrous thing the barrel demanded as a sacrifice to survive. like calls to like : there would be nothing but misery.
he feels the hot rush of shame color his cheeks, embarrassment flooding him at cassius’ words. why was he here? he hadn’t wanted a fight ––– he’d come here with the intentions of reuniting with his brother, finally filling the part of him that had gone missing the day his siblings had died. so what had happened? why does anger flood through him, clouding whatever feelings of joy he’d felt ‘pon seeing his brother again? was kaz truly so cruel as to push away the first good thing that had come into his life in months? was he so beyond repair he’d ruined his chances of rebuilding their relationship before it even had a chance to begin again? he watches his brother, his chin raised in defiance as he spits words every bit as vile as kaz was, & feels the unmistakable feeling of recognition. for the first time in their lives, kaz sees himself in cassius : a boy still, wracked with emotions he didn’t yet have names for, feelings he couldn’t control, nowhere to call home. like calls to like.
❝ left you? ❞ anger is my friend. she is a better lover than despair. it rises again, a welcomed respite from the feelings of sorrow & confusion. anger at cas, at this place, at jordie & pekka rollins & every other bastard responsible for making kaz what he was today [ . . . ] the kind of monster who spat cruelties at his brother, the only family he’d known, yet who feels tears prick in his eyes when cas speaks against him. ❝ i didn’t leave you, cassius ––– i saved myself. i did what i had to do. ❞
he doesn’t mention that he’d thought cassius was dead. he doesn’t mention the cold, clammy feeling of cas’s hand in his own, their fingers limp, his pulse weak. he doesn’t mention how he’d struggled for hours to push away the bodies that lay atop each of them, how he’d barely had the strength in his struggle with his sickness to save himself [ . . . ] how he had forced himself to try to save cas too, pushing & pulling at the corpses around them until he’d pulled cas from the pile, only to realize that kaz wouldn’t have the strength to carry both of them to shore. he doesn’t mentioned that he’d prayed for hours while clutching to cas’s hands, begging the saints for someone to save them, only to be met with the sounds of the gulls mimicking his cries. ❝ i’ll go if that’s what you want. ––– clearly i’m not welcomed here. ❞ yet [ . . . ] he doesn’t turn to leave. a silent plea : ask me to stay.
3 notes
·
View notes
hi press the heart for a starter between classes 2nite :)
14 notes
·
View notes