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@rietveild
#𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐃 — welcome ! this is an independent, private, and selective portrayal of kaz ‘ dirtyhands ’ rietveld brekker. this blog is book based and pulls inspiration from personal headcanons.
[ CARRD ] ♣️ [ MEMES ] ♣️ [ HEADCANONS ]
𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘯 : grief as rage, the pull of vengeance, the death of boyhood, greed as a servant, the presence of a drowning, the manifestation of fury, the endurance of spite, the curse of love, healing through blood and more
we have to be the good guys here. we have to save everybody. we don't get to be god.
an independent & private portrayal of peter parker aka SPIDER-MAN , headcanon based with mixed media influences. saved by leah.
i'm back from my trip!! i'll be easing back into things here and doing some writing across my blogs — i've missed u all 💕
hello all ! i will be going on a lil road trip/vacay with friends from tomorrow ( tuesday may 30th ) to next monday (june 5th ) so i'll be a bit quiet ooc and ic !! i'll have my phone but not my laptop, so i'll be around on mobile aka discord ( albeit sporadically ) but i won't really be posting formatted replies here !
( v. ) lapinecide : the ( k i l l i n g ) of wild rabbits.
a study in fear and the gore of girlhood through the perspective of vera hare, an original character with woven ties to the magnus archives. penned by dollie. ( c. )
it is not that the little things go unnoticed, truly --------- it is more so, inej had feared different. she'd feared the horror of returning to ketterdam and everything being off kilter, the spot she once occupied taken, filled, gone. she'd feared that, upon her return, there would be no shadows left for her to occupy, no corner of his space left for her. in her nightmares, there is another wraith. another inej. you are not special, tante heleen had once told her, years ago. it sticks, the memory. it sticks even though she knows better.
❛ still. all this money, and you've kept it virtually the same. ❜ she doesn't mean to tease, truly, but it comes like this anyway, the slightest tint of humor to her tone. inej walks over to the ledge of his window where she spent hours on end, surprised to find it dusty, as though no one has taken her spot. her chest aches, just a little bit. at his words, inej turns, eyes bright and unable to hide how pleased she is. ❛ you don't think ketterdam is the same without me ? ❜ he will correct her, she knows. but for a moment, inej allows herself to feel. ❛ i ------ know there must be questions. i'm sure that makes it difficult. what do you ---------- tell them ? ❜
THERE HAD BEEN NO REASON TO CHANGE IT. moving his entire bedroom around simply because it reminded him of inej's absence would have been a waste of energy. it would have taken too much effort to slowly rearrange it all. he had a job to do. that didn't include interior design. besides, he didn't want any questions and certainly people on the lower floors would wonder what all the noise was. ❝ i've put my wealth into my business. this room serves me well as is. ❞
why had he said that?! ❝ well the rooftops have certainly accumulated more dirt without your presence. ❞ kaz smirks, ❝ don't tell me you assume i've lost my touch. no one would be so stupid to ask me directly. ❞ some had, but his harsh glare had quickly shut them up.
❝ though if i were to say anything, the best lies are always a version of the truth. i would say you're busy hunting. a long job. ❞ it kept the myth alive, should she ever wish to return. whether as the wraith or just to ketterdam. anyone who believed that he was vulnerable or incapable without her nearby would learn a very hard truth.
and if i reboot my p.eter p.arker blog what then....
there was only so much hope a girl could have. inej was the patient type ------------ she did not mind a wait. she did not mind a pause, a slow growth, she did not mind the bloom of flowers in real time. inej would sow the seeds, inej would water the roots. she could wait ------ and she would, gladly.
but her mother used to say : meja, if the plant is dead you thank it for it's service and pull up the roots. you do not let it fester. you do not let it rot.
it is she, who rots, maybe. sitting here with her back against his bed frame, the wood of both the floor and the frame digging into her tailbone and back. she wonders if she must be plucked. pulled out. replanted. a huge part of her doesn't, though. she wants to stay. she wants.
his words are so unexpected, she nearly chokes on the unfamiliarity as well, but inej keeps her composure. she's grateful he isn't looking at her, because she stares at him, processing. ❛ oh. ❜ she begins, a fumble. ❛ you're ... not from ketterdam ? even ------- even close ? where -------- ❜ tentatively, she waits to see if he will give further, answer her half - asked questions.
why had he told her the truth ? there was no need to upset the pattern that they'd had. it wasn't as if she'd told him that she couldn't stay, that she wouldn't wait. wait for what, brekker? to be a different man ? he couldn't be. or perhaps he did not want to be.
it didn't matter. kaz knew inej better than anyone else in the world and he could read her frustration like it was a language only they spoke. without armor, she'd asked of him, and he'd always known what it meant. if this was going to work, the myth would have to fall.
he picks at his gloves, trying to avoid the gaze that he feels on him. kaz sighs heavily and crosses the room, awkwardly lowering himself to the floor so that he sits across from her. he stretches his bad leg out and shakes his head. ❝ no, i'm not from ketterdam. ❞
he'd suspected the confession would have changed him, made him feel lighter. it doesn't. he continues regardless, ❝ i was born on a farm. it was outside of lij. i moved here when i was nine. you're the only person alive who knows the truth. i've never told a soul. ❞ and there was no one left living who could have ever disproved his claims about being birthed in ketterdam.
@rietveild
Wylan was quiet, considering Kaz's question. He'd survived his father, the attempt on his life. He'd even survived the barrel on his own for a few months. After all that, Wylan didn't intend to give up at the first sign of having to do something unsavoury. He was here, wasn't he? He knew Kaz's reputation and yet he came anyway, ready to bargain with a not insubstantial asking price. Wylan would survive because the alternative simply wasn't an option. "I know," he said, making a real effort to stop fiddling with his fingers. It somewhat undermined his effort to project just how certain he was about this. "That's okay, I knew it wouldn't be... easy. What do you need me to do?"
❝ did you ? ❞ his tone is harsh as ever, but there's a difference in it, a curiosity buried deep within. ❝ tell me, wylan, i know you are not from the barrel and though i do not know where you are from, ❞ it's a lie despite hardly sounding like it, ❝ do you have any idea what you're getting involved in ? ❞
kaz certainly knew what he thought. he had already gathered plenty of intel on just who wylan was. or rather, what he was running from. it was enough to tell him that, at best, he would have loose ideas of what it was really like to work with a gang.
having an idea of what something was like was nothing like reality. he's certainly not trying to scare him off, wylan had far more worth to him than he probably realized, but he won't entertain falsities.
❝ Aye.❞ Lark replied quietly, her tone barely above a whisper. Her expression remained impassive and unreadable as it always has been, yet her body was standing more rigid--as if uncomfortable to be there.
❝ The man they are burning...is...was my father. ❞
Bojan Trevelyan was nothing more than a man who took her in out of obligation of fathering a bastard child--or so she was told. When she had saved the Ravkan princes from drowning and nearly drowning herself, Bojan surrendered her to the Second Army and left for Ketterdam to rise his legacy in Ketterdam in some sort of trade.
When she had gotten word he had died, she had come for some sort of closure, and perhaps to find someone she recently learned about.
❝ Brekker. ❞ She spoke again. ❝ How capable are you in locating a missing person? ❞ she turned to him and crossed her arms. ❝ Are you interested in taking on a job? ❞
HE IS NOT SORRY FOR HER LOSS, so he does not bother acting as though he is. death was inescapable and he does not know lark well enough to care about something as pointless as feelings. kaz watches the body as the clothes catch fire, the flames erupting into something powerful.
❝ ah. were you close ? ❞ it could offer insight into the state of mind she may be in. it wouldn't allow him to fully know what she was thinking or how she was feeling but grief was a powerful motivator. almost as strong as greed. he had little care for how she was affected but he was interested in predicting her actions.
his brow tilts and he finally looks over to her, meeting her eye with an air of confidence, ❝ i can find anyone or anything in the world for the right price. ❞ it's not just talk. kaz prided himself on his ability to fulfill any request he'd received. at this point in his career, he'd done it all.
❝ that depends on the details. who do you want me to find and why ? ❞
as patient and forgiving as she was, kaz brekker always managed to burrow under the deepest parts of her skin. perhaps it was the demon rumors that led him to sink lower and lower. in their short time together, hinata had already grown tired of his glares and threats. the sooner they found her sister, the sooner they could part ways and never speak to, nor of, each other again. he would nearly be a figment of her nightmares.
are you truly? irritated, yes, but she was not prone to direct snark. this was the closest she would get to an admission of wrongdoing. he could strike her with his cane and still he would make it her fault, as men in her life tended to do. perhaps next time i will fill the space with an impassioned speech about the horrors i could subject them to. that may be more up your alley.
“ he was the next step in locating her. or so he wanted us to believe. ” hinata gathers her skirts and steps over the fallen body, head cocked to the side. thump thump. thump thump. thump thump. a third heartbeat echoes in the dirt walls. “ but there’s someone else here. someone he was trying to protect. ”
he was under the impression that it was obvious he was the next step. there was simply no other reason they would have come here. kaz certainly wouldn't have insisted he waste their time just to go off on some difficult-to-walk pathway because he wanted to kill a few random men that were too weak to even be considered an exciting challenge. but apparently, the things that were obvious to him were not for hinata.
he doesn't respond to her, there was always something a person was trying to protect. instead, he retrieves a key wrapped around the neck of one of the bodies, crosses the room, and inserts it into what appeared to be a small wardrobe. kaz opens the doors, reaches inside, and grabs the person inside by their collar, throwing them to the ground.
they whimper loudly and let out a shrill shout, trying to scramble to their feet. kaz puts his good foot on their ankle before they can and he ignores their yell, looking over at hinata. he jerks his head in the direction of the newly discovered person, ❝ do you know them ? ❞
he was under the impression that it was obvious he was the next step. there was simply no other reason they would have come here. kaz certainly wouldn't have insisted he waste their time just to go off on some difficult-to-walk pathway because he wanted to kill a few random men that were too weak to even be considered an exciting challenge. but apparently, the things that were obvious to him were not for hinata.
he doesn't respond to her, there was always something a person was trying to protect. instead, he retrieves a key wrapped around the neck of one of the bodies, crosses the room, and inserts it into what appeared to be a small wardrobe. kaz opens the doors, reaches inside, and grabs the person inside by their collar, throwing them to the ground.
they whimper loudly and let out a shrill shout, trying to scramble to their feet. kaz puts his good foot on their ankle before they can and he ignores their yell, looking over at hinata. he jerks his head in the direction of the newly discovered person, ❝ do you know them ? ❞
“I wasn’t worried about them killing me.” And it’s true; people have been trying to kill Cress since she was a baby. Her own mother placed her in Sybil’s arms with a sneer. How mortifying, she’d said. Death is terrifying, pain is terrifying, but it pales in comparison to an abduction. Being used.
A sigh passes her lips. She isn’t opposed to being bait, but being given orders— having her autonomy taken away again— she would rather let herself be killed. Cress will not allow herself to be a prisoner again, tower or not.
“Look. I’m not saying I won’t go along with it. It’s not like I want them kidnapping me. But you don’t get to tell me what I do with my body.” She shudders at her own bravery, words she imagined saying to Sybil a thousand times, but she does not waver. She’ll walk away if she needs to, tell Thorne everything and figure it out herself. “Otherwise, fine. Give me the plan.”
ALWAYS THE DRAMATICS. what was it that people did not understand that he did not care about their opinions or their proclamations ? it seemed no matter what he had done, no matter how many bones he had broken or lives he had taken, people still felt the need to think that they were special.
no one was special, not in this world nor to kaz. and if they were, they'd have known by now. he hadn't done anything to imply to cress that she mattered to him. people were their value, their use. it was exhausting to pretend otherwise.
he arches a brow, ❝ quite frankly, i don't care what you do with your body. you asked for a plan, i gave you one. since i'm finding it harder and harder to believe you weren't born yesterday, i'll explain. ❞ kaz rolls his eyes, ❝ part of a plan is being told where to go and when. it involves orders and commands. for plans to work they often require an integral piece. for this one, that's you being bait. ❞
the night is long and arduous before them. inej knows this, prepares for this, steels herself for a night of conversation and pretend. a night of faking, a night of talking and laughing and lies. it's lies. she has to keep telling herself it's lies, because kaz's eyes on her leave her aching.
foolish, to ache. this was all a ruse.
ina has to come out, here. a woman with a little more vibrancy, a little friendlier. inej closes the mascara tube, judges her work in the mirror. it looks fine enough, but there has been something so strange with playing somebody else. her face is hers, but -------- is it ? is kaz's ?
as she fishes for the lipstick she knows is in her purse, her gaze locks onto his. he says her name and she pauses, freezes, listens. there is something to the way he says her name. whatever, whatever he said. she'd agree.
inej does agree, but she's disappointed by his question.
❛ i have. not only did she hire a party planner, she hired a planner to find the planner. a whole person to find another person who will plan her party. ❜ inej's mouth quirks, bright and humored. she loves when they poke fun at their marks. ❛ there's going to be some sort of live show, too. some surprise. ❜ the lipstick tube opens, and her lips pucker lightly as she applies. ❛ how long do you think this will last ? you should speak to her husband, tonight. he'd be a good ally. ❜ / @rietveild
HE BUSIES HIMSELF WITH TIDYING THE ROOM. it was easier than watching her apply lipstick, easier than trying to ignore any of the thoughts that would come with such an act. kaz forces himself to pay close attention to her words beyond all else, remove the emotion, look at it logically. she's right, it would look good to have him as an ally. he needed to go in with a plan of how to win him over.
❝ if the live show is their son playing terribly on his saxophone i'm going to gouge my own ears out. ❞ and possibly shoot them. sure, it would blow their cover but it would save him endless irritation.
he shrugs, ❝ a few hours for the initial party. quite a few more if we play this right and get invited to the secondary gathering inside one of their homes. ❞ it was when the inner circle would get together and drink, laughing and joking about the event. ❝ he would be, but he's about as interesting to speak to as drying paint. ❞
𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝.
#FENIXBURNED : independent, highly selective & private multimuse, featuring characters from literature, podcasts, television & original work . written by flora (21+, she/her).
you look like the rest of them; as if i could reach my hand into your chest and pull it back encased in ice. and so it makes sense, then, that the crown believes this man and his crew to be an extension of the organization he betrayed—filthy, vesperan sympathisers.
there is no place for you in my city.
"i'm sure you can afford all the talk you like. how much are you being paid?" he croons, tipping his masked head carefully to the side, "and who is your contact? don't worry about wasting time—you have exactly as much as i say you do." regulus reaches a gloved hand to the side, fingertips apart, and a black, sickly-green mist forms between them, "who. is. your. contact? love."
avoid the mist and he would be just fine. this was where he found himself entirely free — in the middle of a brawl, the taste of blood ripe in his mouth. it felt like home. he dodges back, creating some space between himself and the crown.
❝ i see no benefit to spending needlessly. ❞ he twirls a blade in his palm, waiting to throw it when the right moment revealed itself. ❝ a good businessman never reveals his contacts. ❞ and kaz brekker was a phenomenal businessman. he was hired for largely two reasons : his willingness to do any job and his secrecy. ❝ you'll have to lessen your ego, you see, you have never been my target. what i'm doing has nothing to do with you. ❞
the sarcasm has a flush coming to his cheeks, though it doesn't stop and soon he can feel even the tips of his ears burning. perhaps he should be used to such a thing, whether it's from kaz or from ... no - he won't allow himself to think back to that. it's easier to focus on the task at hand, his mind was already running through the various things he had already made and what would need to be replinished. ❛❛ i - ❜❜ his mouth tightens into a thin line. he doesn't want to hurt anyone ... that's the last thing he wants to do, but he also knows that his bombs in kaz's hands? it wasn't a matter of if something would happen, but when. ❛❛ what exactly would you need? ❜❜
@rietveild continued from here.
KAZ CAN ALREADY FEEL IRRITATION BREWING. having to reveal more about any of his plans, especially one such as this, meant the possibility of the information getting out. this job was on a need-to-know basis and right now, all that he wanted wylan to know was very little. at the very least, it hadn't appeared as though wylan had many contacts, or any, outside of him. that meant less leaks. ❝ enough to get through a few impenetrable walls. a few silent and fatal gases. acids that can burn through even the thickest of materials. ❞ for something like this they required more rather than less. ❝ i'll cover the cost of any supplies you require. ❞ this needed to be done right and in order do so, kaz was well aware he would have to cough up a decent sum.
here is a riddle for you : how much could a girl take ? when would it shift, shake, crumble ? when would that faith, unholy wraith, begin to waver ? how much could she suffer through before the cracks were unrepairable ? here is the truth : kaz is bleeding. rapidly. it stains his hands and his clothes, drips down on his floor. here is the truth : she knows his cruelty. he just does not usually aim it at her.
kaz looks at her with glare, and suddenly it is inej who looks like she is bleeding. angry, tremendously hurt, she shoves the antiseptic into his hand, does not linger when her fingers brush his gloved ones. ❛ fine. ❜ she hisses, hot and embarrassed. ❛ waste your own time, then. bloody and alone. that's what you want, isn't it ? your solitude. kaz in his impenetrable barrel. enjoy your loneliness. ❜ and she is gone, turning on her heel and walking from him without a glance back.
she cannot leave, though. she can't. inej can never leave him like this ----- he may not need her help, but inej needs to help. she slammed his door shut, but she stands with her back pressed to it, eyes shut, heaving. inej is so angry with him. she curses her heart. he would be bloody, but he wouldn't be alone. biting her tongue through her pride, she opens the door after ten minutes pass. ❛ kaz ----- ❜
HE HAS GONE TOO FAR. kaz thinks this often, that he will raise his voice or cut her off or speak with such cruelty that she will finally see who he is and she will leave, her debts be damned. as she stands there, her face contorted in such a way that makes it seem as if he had struck her. he wishes that she would go. she would never find the peace she prayed for in a rotten home.
his grips tightens around the antiseptic and it lets out a low whistle that tells him to calm down or else the bottle will burst. kaz prepares a retort but her back is to him before he can release it, her braid bouncing against her back as the door slams closed behind her. good, let her leave. let her never turn round again. she only made him weak.
he rips open the lid to the antiseptic and pours it on the wound. it feels like fire dancing across his side — he needed it. the pain rooted him, kept him focused. he takes a deep breath and a long series of expletives leave his lips with the exhale. kaz braces himself on the sink, cleans around the wound, and begins stitching himself up when the door opens once more. he looks up into the mirror, looking at her through it instead of turning to face her.
❝ i thought you wanted me to enjoy my loneliness. ❞
