#crow moodboards

[crowandmoonwriting]

Moodboard Tag ✧･ﾟ: *

Thank you for tagging me @daughter-of-inklings!

Rules: go to pinterest, search "[your name] core aesthetic" and create a moodboard from the first nine images. No need to mention your name!

This was a lot of fun! Moodboards are my favourite thing to do next to making playlists lol.

Tagging some mutual besties (sorry if you've been tagged already!): @spiced-wine-fic, @chromehoplite, @insipid-drivel, @winterandwords, @theimperiumchronicles

[goodnight-ensign]

I began to keep a journal

[idliketobeatree]

dead boy detectives characters as art objects and sculptures

edwin payne

author: glen martin taylor charles rowland

author: robert hudson

crystal palace

author: glen martin taylor

niko sasaki

author: justin cloud monty finch

author: anders krisár esther finch

author: magdalena abakanowicz the cat king

author: toshihiko bito jenny the butcher

author: emmanuelle dupont the night nurse

author: elizabeth turk

[extended version with notes]

[pebblespillowfort]

i lied i did another one | crow...

[moodboard-d]

[witchthewriter]

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞: 𝟐/𝟐𝟎/𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧: 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐂𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐢.

[thejudeduarte]

Kanej aesthetic 🐦‍⬛🖤♣️🔪

"She'd laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and gotten drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him."

♠️ Kaz Brekker, Six of Crows ♣️

Kanej fanart artist: @boomdafunk

[ksjb3rry]

“You can’t go around telling people ghosts are real. They’ll think you’re insane, which, maybe you are, but they’ll make things messy”.

— Edwin Payne, Dead Boy Detectives

⪩͜⊹͜⪨ ݁ ִ  ۫ ꔵ 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗯𝘆 @𝗸𝘀𝗷𝗯𝟯𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗹𝗿 ꒰ 🖋️ ꒱ ༉

🪦:: 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗿 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗼 𝘄 𝗻𝗼 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘁𝘀 ! ༄ ⌇ ⚗️

[sarastellasari]

Wylan Van eck moodboard!

[ed13d1]

I let them break all your bones

painting by andrea kowch

[buttermilk2004]

🦴 || CROW REGRESSOR

☆ Crow regressor habits ★

★ collecting things you find when outside. Nothing too big of course, but small things like rocks, stones, twigs and flowers

☆ pretty looking rock collection >>>

★ pile stuffies and blankets in the corner of your room and make your own lil nest for yourself

☆ small lil hops when walking

[bones-clouds]

"you aren't a flower, you're every blossom in the wood blooming at once. you are a tidal wave. you're a stampede. you are overwhelming."

nina zenik

six of crows duology leigh bardugo

[anolis3]

"Six of Crows", by Leigh Bardugo.

"Kaz leaned back. 'What's the easiest way to steal a man's wallet?' 'Knife to the throat?' asked Inej. 'Gun to the back?' said Jesper. 'Poison in his cup?' suggested Nina. 'You're all horrible,' said Matthias. Kaz rolled his eyes. 'The easiest way to steal a man's wallet is to tell him you're going to steal his watch. You take his attention and direct it where you want it to go.'", from Six of Crows.

"'Stay', she panted. Tears leaked from her eyes. 'Stay till the end.' 'And after,' he said. 'And always.' 'I want to feel safe again. I want to go home to Ravka.' 'Then I'll take you there. We'll set fire to raisins or whatever you heathens do for fun.' 'Zealot,' she said weakly. 'Witch.' 'Barbarian.' 'Nina,' he whispered, 'little red bird. Don't go.'", from Six of Crows.

[idliketobeatree]

dead boy detectives characters as art objects and sculptures; extended ---

hello, i remembered i made some subjective explanations and notes on few of my choices for this post, and i thought some folks might enjoy it. soo let's get into it.

1.

monty finch

author: anders krisár

pretty self-explanatory; it's a moulded male torso with visible inprints on its skin.

anders krisár’ artistry explores the themes of loss, separation, and the condition of the psyche through the lens of a human body in duality: perfectionism meets unsettlement, skin meets marble and bronze and polyester, to create sculptures spanning geological time far beyond the living's capabilities.

monty's creation by esther was already stripped of any human agency. "he was made a boy, not a person", small, almost doll-sized, with a singular purpose: to seduce and entice the chosen dead boy into their doom. the naked skin and specifically the position of its arms are mildly erotic, but in a way that makes your skin crawl. the imprints are intimate, placed possesive; notice the thumbs digging close to especially sensitive areas like nipples and the belly button.

the latter seems to connect the "creator" to the subject, the navel here as a symbol of cruel, invasive motherhood. the fact that the torso is cut off in the middle and at the neck furthers the uncanny valley feeling of a young male body, but then again. this is a realistic portrayal. so was it ever a person? what does it have inside to make dents so profound? how deep you can press until it breaks?

--- i'm leaving out crystal and edwin (for now?), but @nicheoverhere brilliantly noticed that it was the same author for both. that was intentional! because glen martin taylor is all about taking kintsugi, which is a beautiful art form of repairing fine china and generally delicate things with veins of precious metals, but with materials like— nails. scissors. barbed wire. all ugly. the repair after a great shattering is seldom pretty after all, they really are similar in this regard. ---

2.

charles rowland

author: robert hudson

okay, strap in. this funky dreamy world belongs to robert hudson, and i picked it for charles rowland because it's all first impressions. the colours? the composition? they give you the 80s vibes, almost; like something a kid would design if you asked them what a time machine would look like. it could probably move in several ways. the pieces seem mismatched, but hold themselves together surprisingly well. or maybe you underestimate it?

it's neither big nor small. you can't tell its size at all. it's a bit overwhelming to look at, at first, and at second, and after a while, but it carries that comfortable familiarity and nostalgia for— well, nothing in particular, because the longer you look, the sadder its past seems. the bold pops of contrasting colour are fighting for your attention. they want you to like it! and yet, the major material seems to be just. rusted steel. made from tools.

and look at that botched up sphere, it wants so badly to be a perfect sphere and it knows it'll never be one. fine!! perhaps it could be a football ball instead! or maybe a head. if you close your eyes, that is. and this facing-up horseshoe? a lucky charm, made to collect good luck and keep it from falling out cause god, it needs it.

---

3.

niko sasaki

author: justin cloud

---

niko sasaki, now how do i describe her? let's start by saying— she's cleary a her. this one is a she. and there's something to be said about blooming, and femininity, and delicacy, because pink is a hopeful girly colour and a surprise and a delight.

what are you doing in a gallery, little flower, shouldn't you be at home? in a field? look how pretty you are! mind you, of course there's something wrong with her as well, but you're not sure if that is because someone messed it up, or because of a different entity alltogether. was it always half-electric? its elegance seems purposeful— the iridescent metal fits all too well with the white-pink petals— but also uncanny. and oh suddenly you can't stop looking at the stigma from which a pollen should release aaany time now.

when i look at her, at her black artificial stem and the small leaves imitating the real ones, i wonder if she doesn't want to lure me into a trap. is it her fault?

the beautiful petals seem like the only thing left real of the flower. whichever way she turns, it will probably mean— death. and flowers are ephemeral. what is a flower mounted to a wall, fortified with steel, connected with cables and enfused with electrical energy, then?

i think she's a self-preserving survivor. ---

4.

the night nurse

author: elizabeth turk

---

now. the night nurse.

of course it's the only piece in the collection where the background needed to be dark. no one here is older than her. there is no inoffensive, fading-into-background white for this absolute pillar of truth. or maybe something like a totem, quite protective in nature. and it's terrifying, 'cause you're immediately hit with the feeling that you're looking at something out of this realm, something you're not supposed to witness. the perspective is all wrong. is it downwards or upwards? why does it seem unstable when the pieces are so perfectly centered and seemingly well-balanced? child, you should calm down, it's not like you will destroy it with a stronger puff of air. will you?

this sculpture is called "tipping point — echoes of extinction", and it's actually a mix of technology and sculpture and sound, with elegant visualizations of the lost voices of birds and sea mammals. the author said it "was conceived in reverence to the astounding lives the species which envelop humans have lived and the mysterious ways they have contributed to our well-being. the shadows of their memory, whether a shape or a sound, have inspired this project." so the piece deals with death. moreover, it deals with murder. it records the harsh reality and makes sure the ones that suffered horribly at the hands of humans are, in a way, celebrated. but also— categorised. like epitaphs. the birdsong, once a living sign, is only visually represented by the lines of varying lenghts in 3D, and you can do nothing about it anymore, right, you can't bring back the dead, you can't help the innocent dying in any way other than— stacking them on top of each other and moving on.

---

so that's for now, i might someday write more if anyone's curious. :")

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Ghostcrow & Palasaki (The Old Guard AU)

Monty kisses Charles Rowland as he kissed Edwin Payne and it is everything he ever could have dreamed of, getting kissed by a cute boy under the stars.

But they are not boys and neither is he. They are immortal, and he is just a fucking tool to be used to lead them to their doom.

So Monty has to be smart. He can’t fall for them, no matter how much his heart might be a fragile, battered organ in his chest just craving the touch, the kindness, the interest, the affection of the two brightest people he’s ever met.

Monty Finch has never had a future. He is nothing but the past, and even then, his is nothing compared to theirs.

He knows how this is going to end, with every boy involved sacrificed onto the altar. 

So why not be a flash in the pan? Why not live like he's the one dying?

-aletterinthenameofsanity, no grave can hold my body down (i'll crawl home to them)

Fortune up and left me on the hotel floor

Well, you know she never paid me no mind

They say it's good to start the story with a tragedy

What did I do to deserve you?

How did you find me? I was already halfway gone

You were a bright light

You were a fistfight

-The Ballroom Thieves, Fistfight

@pappelsiin @itsbitmxdinhere @rexrevri @sweet-like-h0ney-lavender @saffirez

@the-ipre @sunnylemonss @days-light @agentearthling @helltechnicality

@sethlost @catboy-cabin @secretlyafiveheadeddragon @vyther15

@anything-thats-rock-and-roll @queen-of-hobgobblers @every-moment-a-different-sound

@nix-nihili @mellxncollie @tumblerislovetumblerislife @lemurafraidofthunder

@likemmmcookies @wr0temyway0ut @thelakeswillbreakourfall

@sapphic-corgi @occasionaloneshots @troublegoblin

@cairngorm-ard @petesdragon @alittleemo @charswithbatsmybeloved

@alilbifurious @bigtirednoodle @the-moons-jade-rabbit

@wikipediagreen @wooooooaaahhhhh-oooooops

[witchthewriter]

@a-kayy47.