#kaz: can worms even see?

[shit-people-probably-didnt-say]

Jesper: Would you still hire me if I was a worm?

Kaz:

Kaz: No

#jes: fawns heartbreak #(but is actually a little offended) #kaz: how is a worm going to hold one gun let alone two? and fire them? #kaz: can worms even see? #jesper: I dont need sight to shoot you should know this by now #hes: id be the best sharpshooter worms have ever seen…or not seen but you get the point #hes? okay i cba to retype that so you’re gonna have to figure it out #soc #soc incorrect quotes #six of crows #jesper fahey #kaz brekker

[lesbiansanemi]

And like idk, idk. Maybe the time off thing shouldn’t make me so unreasonably angry. But EVERYONE I care about is long distance for me. My gf lives 18 hours away. My dad lives 17. Even “closer” ppl like my best friend live 3. My siblings live 4. When I go see them I have to account for days of travel. It’s so fucking fucked up. I haven’t seen my dad in almost two years. I see my siblings maybe twice a year because I literally can’t get time off to see any of these people. Six hours a month is nowhere near enough and I feel like this is part of why I constantly feel so goddamn isolated

#why did I fucking move here…. I’m not even fucking friends with the person I moved here for #actually after I moved here for him he moved fucking states and tried pressuring me to move again 🙃 #but that’s a whole other can of worms #I just. it doesn’t feel fair. I’m literally on the verge of tears over this #I keep telling myself to stick it out cuz the money is good #but oh my god…. I can’t do it anymore it’s not worth it its not fucking worth it #I’d rather have a much tighter budget but be able to actually see the people I care about #kaz rambles

[crvptidgf]

Whipped

Kaz Brekker x Reader

➸ summary: just as you start to think that Kaz is incapable of basic human decency, he proves you wrong (in his own, Kaz-like way)

➸ warnings/notes: none

word count: 1.2k

————————

ONE THING YOU quickly learned about Kaz was that he never showed outward emotion. In fact, sometimes you weren’t too sure he even felt any at all. That was what everybody said - Kaz was robotic in the way he interacted with people, hardly sparing a thought on the well-being or opinions of others.

While it wasn’t far off the truth, you knew there had to be more to him than a void machine with no care for anybody but himself. He was still, after all, human (despite what anybody else might say).

It wasn’t without reason that he gained his infamous aliases. Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands, Demjin. That’s why it surprised you when you started getting nervous around him. Not the kind of nervous that most people felt with Kaz, but more like a stupid, naïve school-girl kind of nervous. Why? You could probably name a million reasons.

Putting aside all that he has done and all that he is, Kaz was genuine. Perhaps not like how Jesper and Inej were - and sure, he didn’t have the softness that Nina held, or the undying open affection that Matthias bared for his lover, or even the sweet, lovable awkwardness that Wylan had. He was, however, intriguing in his own way.

He was brutally loyal to those he deemed worthy; his mind worked unlike anyone else you had met; and he never, ever, took shit from anyone - no matter if it was a stranger off the street or one of his Crows. Not to mention that he always seemed to be 2 steps ahead of his foes, which was something you admired greatly. These special qualities made him who he is and you couldn’t help but fall for his cold and calculating personality.

There was always a wall separating him from being honest with people, his lack of trust and need to be in control too strong to ever let up. Yet bit by bit (or brick by brick) his shell started to gather cracks and crevices in the shape of you.

You had somehow wormed your way into his icy heart. Of course he would never dare admit it to himself, much less say it out loud, but deep down he knew. And he hated it.

He hated that he remembered your favorite color. He hated that he knew exactly how you liked your tea in the mornings. Most of all, he absolutely loathed the fact that you, out of anybody he has ever encountered, managed to become his biggest weakness.

Kaz always prided himself on his nonchalant façade. Nobody could ever read what was going on inside his mind and he worked hard to keep it that way. Until you came along. Until you wrung and twisted his insides until he couldn’t take it anymore - the thoughts of you so polluted in his mind that he couldn’t help but chastise his childish behavior.

He wasn’t a boy anymore. He didn’t have crushes (although what he felt for you was a little more than a measly crush).

All of this to say that, when he saw the small smile that tugged on the corner of your lips whenever he did something thoughtful for you, he actually found that he didn’t mind being reduced to a mindless, clueless idiot around you. He actually realized that he liked making you happy. This epiphany scared him. But if tossing and turning at night, his mind completely overtaken by you, meant that he could see your grin light up the room just one more time, he could live with it.

You, on the other hand, had no idea of his inner turmoil. Yeah you knew he was a bit gentler when you were around (not by much, you noted), but that could be for a multitude of reasons. Surely Kaz Brekker, the notorious Dirtyhands, didn’t take a fancy to you of all people. Right?

These thoughts were however thrown from your mind when you awoke to your floorboards creaking, the sound alerting your fight or flight response. Constantly being in imminent danger does that to a person. You can never be too sure when death would knock on your door.

Yet when you slowly reached your hand under your pillow for your dagger (a gift that Inej had graced you with on your first birthday at the Crow Club), a voice stopped you from your worries.

“It’s just me. No need for any violence so early in the morning.”

Turning in your small but cozy bed, you were met with a somewhat startled looking Kaz. He wasn’t expecting you to wake up - he should’ve forseen this. Saints, he was losing his game. He always did when it came to you.

“Oh,” you replied simply. “Did you need something?”

Kaz’s lips formed into a line, something in his hand shuffling as he mulled over his thoughts. He should leave, he thought. But he didn’t. Instead he stood at the foot of your bed like a total creep, his eyes traveling over your face so quickly that you almost missed it.

“Breakfast,” he said, throwing the bag that he previously toyed with in his hand.

It landed with a soft thud on your bed, the brown paper almost unfolding as it reached your knee. Picking it up slowly, you looked towards Kaz for any indication of what it was. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was inside.

It was a sugar-roll. Something you had been craving for months, but could never seem to get your hands on. There was only one bakery in the Barrel that sold these, and it was on the complete other side of the city.

“How did you- Where-“ you stumbled over your words, utterly struck by surprise.

Kaz spun his cane in his hand, the crow's head glinting in the sunlight that peeked from your window.

You never thought you would see the day, but he hesitated before answering.

“Had some business to attend to. I just happened to walk by that bakery that you’re always harping on about.”

So he did listen to your meaningless rants. Nina had mentioned the bakery a while back, and you and her bonded over your shared enjoyment of the confectioneries that they sold. You didn’t think Kaz actually heard it, much less remembered what your favorite pastry was.

“Thank you,” you breathed out.

Kaz nodded, retreating backwards as he responded. “Hopefully now you’ll stop bugging me about that stupid roll of yours,” he said.

While his words were harsh, you could see the glint in his eyes as he spotted your excited expression, your hands pulling the doughy goodness out of its bag. In his own backwards way, Kaz was as whipped as somebody like him could get.

As he limped out of your room, the comfort of your presence leaving him, he spotted Jesper outside the door, smirking.

“What,” Kaz snapped.

“You just happened to walk by?”

Kaz rolled his eyes, sighing. He continued to walk, ignoring Jesper’s attempts to annoy the man.

“That bakery is at least 30 minutes away,” he stifled a laugh, “you need to think up better lies, boss.”

“Tell anyone and you’ll never see your guns again,” Kaz said, knowing there was no point in lying any more. He cast a backwards glance at his friend, who immediately put his hands up in defense.

Jesper smiled to himself as he was finally left alone upstairs. He was going to have so much fun taunting that over Kaz's head in the next few weeks.

The Bastard of the Barrel - whipped.

#six of crows #six of crows fanfic #six of crows fic #six of crows x reader #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x you #grishaverse fic #grishaverse fanfic #kaz being kaz #grishaverse fanfiction #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone series #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x fem!reader #six of crows fandom #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse fandom #kaz rietveld #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone

[imaginefan]

Still The Same

Stiles Stilinski!Brother X Sister!Reader

Word Count: 1886

Requested: @emaz-0225

Request: Can you do an imagine where your Stiles Stilinski twin sister and your really close with an original Character son of Peter Hale but your kidnapped and you are saved by Scott and he has to give you the bite and you have to tell your father

You and Stiles were twins and most people could see it in the way that you acted and spoke to people. While Scott and Stiles stayed close while they were younger and grew together you ended up becoming friends with a boy who had seemed to have trouble making friends. He was quiet and in some ways scary but you never took the warning worming your way into his school life and eventually becoming his only friend, his name was Madden Kazimir Hale. He preferred Kaz, apparently his first name was one that his father had given him so he never used it, his mother had given him his second and so he used that one.

Kaz later found out that there was more to his father than first thought and you were there the night that it all happened, you both found out that Kaz was a werewolf and after his mother explained everything you were the one to help him through figuring it out. You were both 11 at the time and now at the age of 14 well into your first year of highschool, Kaz had great control and you were both closer than ever.

You were standing in the halls waiting for Kaz to get all of his stuff out of his locker “you know, if you would just remember what lessons you have, your locker wouldn’t be such a mess.” You grumbled as he looked at you with raised eyebrows, short brown hair casting a shadow over his eyes as you waited for him to say something. “Like your locker is any better.” He argued “you and your brother are the worst of that kind of thing.” “I will have you know that I’m far better at organisation than my brother.” You argued and he smirked, he was about to say something when another voice interrupted you both. “Kaz, you’ll be at the party tonight won’t you?” Lydia asked as she laid her hand on his arm, you rolled your eyes before they caught on Stiles across the hall, he seemed to be bouncing on his feet. “Only if she’s going.” Kaz answered, that drew your attention back to him as he looked down at you. “So (Y/N) are you coming?” Lydia asked. “Probably.” You answered and she nodded. “Good then I will see you there Kaz.” She smiled as she turned and walked away, not even a second later Stiles slams into the locker next to you. “What was she talking to you about?” He asked. “Hello to you too Stiles.” Kaz muttered as he continued to sort through his locker. “Yeah, yeah hey, so..?” He asked. “So?” You asked in a teasing tone. “What was she talking to you about?” He asked. “Who?” You asked. “Not funny.” He warned. “I need a name.” You informed him. “Lydia!” He answered, voice louder than he had intended, you assumed thanks to the ADHD. Most people were used to him now and continued about what they were doing, not paying him any more attention. “Just a party, don’t worry you’ll be there, it's probably going to be after the game anyway.” You explained. “Yeah but why is she asking you?” Stiles asked. “Don’t worry about it.” You waved him off as Kaz closed his locker. “Ready?” “Ready.” He answered.

It was only a few weeks later that Kaz came to you with a new discovery, one that involved Scott and by extension Stiles. “Scott’s a werewolf.” Kaz said when you were alone at lunch. “What?” You asked. “How would you know that?” “His scent changed, you can smell it on someone, same way I can smell it on the guy that's been hanging around the school.” He answered. “Right, so what do we do about that?” You asked. “You're surprisingly calm.” Kaz raised an eyebrow. “It's not like we can change it, so I guess we have to help them.” You explained “you said that there are now hunters in town because of that new alpha, the one I assume bit Scott.” “I guess the question that we really have to answer is who is this alpha.” Kaz shrugged “but maybe we should talk to your brother and Scott first.” “Yeah I guess you are right.” You nodded.

Later that evening with your Dad still working, you and Kaz corner Scott and Stiles in his room “so are you guys going to tell us why you're acting so weird?” You asked as you walked over to Stiles' bed laying down. “W-what are you talking about?” Scott asked. “You don't need your inhaler, being super good at Lacrosse now.” You turned your attention to Stiles “your unnatural interest in the new murders, the hale house and your unbelievable jumpiness.” “I’m always this way.” Stiles answered. “You sir are a terrible liar.” You smirked. “Even if I didn’t know, I’d know they were hiding something.” Kaz as he walked purposefully past Scott before falling back on the other side of the bed his head landing on your stomach. “You don’t know what it is do you?” “What are you talking about?” Stiles asked. “I was talking to Scott.” Kaz pointed at the person that he named while you began to gently run your hand through his short hair. “W-what are you talking about?” Scott asked. “Terrible lairs.” Kaz said, eyes shifting to you. “Terrible.” You nodded. “Their hearts are hammering.” Kaz teased but when he looked back at them both his eyes glowing a bright yellow. “You're a werewolf!?” Stiles asked. “You haven’t figured out that half the Hale family were?” Kaz asked. “What!?” Stiles asked. “Looks like you're going to have to take it from the top.” You sighed as Kaz settled in to tell them everything that he knew.

It had been 3 years since Scott had been turned, he was now an Alpha but not through bloodshed instead through pure will power. Kaz had since met his father and still wanted very little to do with him, even less when he found out about his sister, someone that was only a few months younger than him. You had no time to dwell on the family links that had yet to be made but you stayed close friends with Kaz which was probably how you ended up being kidnapped. With Kaz’s name having just appeared on the Dead pool someone must have seen you as the ticket to getting to him.

You don’t even know where you are, you just know that it smelled musty and the man in front of you was terrifying, he had a large hunting knife in his hand you had a feeling that he was about to use it. “Let’s hurry this along shall we?” He asked as he crouched in front of you, the knife plunged into your stomach, you screamed out in pain as he got up and walked over to the table picking up your phone, he used your finger to unlock your phone before filming a video and sending it to Kaz. “With any luck you will see them before you die.” He wrapped his hand around the knife ripping it from your stomach “I doubt it though.” You watched as he carefully stepped over something on his way out of the room, a trip wire, making sure to keep that in the forefront of your mind.

You don’t know how much longer you wait before you hear the scuffling but as soon as you hear movement you start to talk about the trap, making your voice as loud as you could, which was only a mumble “trap by the door, step over the wire.” You mumbled it on repeat and luckily it seemed Kaz was in tune with you in more ways than one, his hand shooting out to stop Scott from stepping any closer to you. “She warned us of something.” He said as he looked down at the floor catching sight of the wire there. “Careful.” He ordered as he stepped over the wire, careful to keep an eye out for anything else, finally getting to you and taking your hands in his face. “Hey there, you scared me, thought you weren’t going to let anything happen to you.” “Sorry.” You mumbled. “No need to be sorry we found you, so now all we need is to get you out of here.” Kaz said softly, you smiled. “We both know that’s not true.” You said softly. “I know I’m dying.” “No.” Kaz argued “do you remember what you said to me when we talked about dying?” “Mmm.” You hummed. “What did you say?” He asked. “I choose life even if it means that I’m not human anymore.” You answered. “Are you sure?” Scott asked. “I’m sure.” You answered.

Choosing to live at the time seemed like a good choice but now that it was time to tell your Dad what you had done to do so you honestly worried that it was push him over the edge, after everything that had happened with Stiles you were concerned that he’d hate you for this, you’d never be able to walk away from this life. “I can tell him it was my fault if you want, he’d believe it.” Kaz said from where he was sitting. “No I won’t lie to him.” You answered. “See that confidence that’s what you need to go there with, trust me it’s going to be fine your Dad loves you, but you always have me, we can go anywhere we want if this doesn’t go the way that you want it to.” Kaz promised you. “Thanks Kaz.” You smiled, you walked into your Dad’s office and swallowed as he looked up at you smiling. “Hey (Y/N/N) what are you doing here?” He asked. “I have to talk to you about something.” You said, he nodded, taking off his glasses and giving you his full attention. “Do you remember back when I got kidnapped and Scott and Kaz found me?” “Yes.” He answered, he seemed stiff at the memory of it. “Well something happened, something that I think that I should tell you about, I understand that you might not see me the same as you had before but I can’t keep it a secret, that will just make it worse.” You took a deep breath. “I was stabbed when I was taken and I was about to die, I told Scott to bite me, I didn’t want to die and there was a way to stop it, I just… I wasn’t…” “Ready?” He asked. “Mmm.” You hummed. “It’s okay.” He promised as you looked at him. “R-really?” You asked. “Things are going to be different, you will be but you are still my daughter and I will love you all the same.” He promised. “Really?” You asked. “Of course.” He answered. “Oh thank god, I was looking for the cheapest place to run off to with Kaz.” You sighed. “You and your brother are always so dramatic.” Your Dad teased as he pulled you into a hug. “You will always be my little (Y/N/N).” He promised, your eyes caught Kaz’s through the window and he smiled simply mouthing ‘I told you.’ from his reclined position on one of the seats outside.

Requests and general question!

#teen wolf one shot #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski #imagine #oneshot #one shot #reader insert #x reader #female reader

[unrequitedloveletter]

Hi!! Wylan x reader who’s an inventor of sorts & just made a camera for the sole purpose of taking a picture of him <3 👾

Wylan x male! inventor! reader headcanons

hi!! Thank you for sending in the requests that you have and I'm sorry that they've taken so long to come out! I will say that tumblr has been very glitchy on my end lately and I've been losing requests and not seeing them for a bit--or ever again, some of them have been missing from my inbox for a couple weeks now--so if there's anything of yours I've missed that you can recall that you really wanted me to write please don't hesitate to just plop the idea into my inbox! If I end up deciding to write it I'll put it into my drafts to ensure I don't lose it but if I decide not to, I'll let you know!

I went ahead and did this as headcanons, which I hope is all right!

Fic type- this is just fluff straight out the gate

Warnings- this was written and then posted almost immediately after it was done, so there's not much to speak of as far as editing is concerned

Okay, so!

Photos as a concept were something that was being discussed just generally around Ketterdam a lot

Mainly in circles of the stadwatch because if they could get photos they could have evidence through more than some very shoddy paintings, sketches, or word of mouth

and with a lot of effort, a level of planning by which even Kaz would be impressed, and a bit of practice in being startlingly quiet footed, you wormed your way into the rooms where those discussions were taking place because you had an idea of your own.

You took the words spoken by government officials and inventors under the Kerch Merchant Councils employ and went home. You drew up a plan that was completely different to the sketches you'd seen while you observed from a point high in the ceiling, the back of your head pressed against a wall as you willed yourself not to breathe too loud and to avoid being noticed

You developed the first camera that Ketterdam had ever seen across the weeks to follow, something different to the sketches you'd seen from afar while you listened to the government drone on about how much of a benefit to society cameras would be while they were in the hands of the stadwatch

The ideas that the government were circulating all involved relatively clunky cameras, ones with tripods that came out the bottom and were exceptional only in stationary situations.

You developed a camera that you could take anywhere. It was lightweight, could fit between ones hands, and had the option of attaching a strap so that it could be carried while slung over ones neck.

The entire motivation behind the project made you feel a bit silly, but Inej found it to be rather romantic and Jesper thought you cheesy, as they were the only two you had told until the first prototype of the camera was complete.

They were your best friends, and they'd both happened to walk in on you planning out the invention at different points, ask what it was out of curiosity and receive your honest answer.

The entire reason you'd liked the idea of cameras was not for the gang related purposes most would've assumed had they known of it. You were not developing a portable camera to help Kaz and Inej gather intel for their schemes and their battles that would eventually have lead to a gang war.

You liked the idea of cameras because it meant you could take photos of Wylan, your boyfriend.

You could capture the moments where he looked so at peace while the two of you watched the sunset in the garden, the look of focus as he worked on an explosive, the sight of his head tilted back as he laughed.

You could capture all of the unforgettable moments that you were scared of forgetting anyway, seconds in time wherein you felt infinitely happy and needed something to remember that.

So, it was the first night you'd let yourself exist with the final product that Wylan finally discovered it.

He discovered it while he and Inej were laughing, glasses of wine in their hands when suddenly--

click!

Wylan glanced in your direction, where the sound had come from, found you yielding the camera with a grin on your face.

He would ask you how you got it and nod when Kaz observed that the government had unveiled prototypes that looked completely different at a discussion only open to those living in the merchants district.

You would shrug and tell him you invented things, and that you needed an excuse to get five steps ahead of government inventions anyway.

You were smarter than the lot of the government idiots combined and they wouldn't start shrinking camera sizes for a bit by your predictions, so you had time before a government official got wind of it all and approached you, offering to give you money in exchange for the patent and you said no.

You told Wylan the opposite of the truth in that moment, not wanting to get called a hopeless romantic or face any of Ninas teasing for the romantics right then and there.

You told him and the rest of them it was for intel gathering purposes and that it was the first prototype--Kaz would get the second, maybe the third, and he would get it for a price because you weren't going to sell one of them off for cheap.

Wylan knew you were lying but didn't push it.

Later that night, you told him the real reason you'd bothered to invent a camera that was so far ahead of the one that the Merchant Council was unveiling in fits and starts.

You'd done it because you didn't want to forget even the most unforgettable moments, and upon learning that, Wylan nearly melted.

He kissed you, and he told you he loved you, and he called you an absolute sap before he grabbed the camera and looked at the photo you'd taken.

He loved it. He'd never quite anticipated loving anything of that sort, but he looked genuinely happy in that split second, and knowing that you were the person behind the camera made him love the photo that much more.

In short, he loved you and he loved that you created a camera just to take photos of him and to not worry about forgetting the unforgettable moments you both lived through.

#wylan van eck #wylan van eck x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix

[sadomatica]

do you have any oceliquid thoughts to share bc I'm so obsessed with them

Oh my god what thoughts DONT I have about them and their beautiful marriage. Follow me under the cut for this one cause it's gonna get long and it's gonna get wicked.

Man what can I even say about these hoes. Together forever and never apart for real. Theres so much left unexplained in the weird scattered years they spend together spanning those three decades, so little canonical elaboration on how they become so closely allied in the era leading up to shadow moses, and yeah the reddit bros like to fill in the gaps like "ermmm mutual interests and🤓🤓ocelot is le master manipulator liquid wuz his pawn and he knew his plan all along🤓🤓" and like, okay sure whatever, but i also raise you, if you'll put your fujo goggles on: the second he first saw eli in 84, before everything, before the hypno-doublethink-brainfuck whatever started wearing off and he eventually discovered the truth of his lineage, some weird kind of fucked up love immediately started festering inside him for that angry little boy. It's this instinctual, irrepressible desire stemming directly from his love for bibo, twisted and mutated by 9 long years of endless pining and mindfuckery and drug abuse, and ofc he doesnt fully understand everything for what it is until way later- but not understanding the feelings doesnt stop him (which. when has it ever with this guy) and, yeah you probably know where I'm going with this.

At the very LEAST I like to imagine them developing a weird little bond over a mutual interest in ruining Kaz's day, maybe eli (suspend disbelief/imagine they put him on mood stabilizers) starts enjoying spending time around ocelot bc he treats him like an Adult and doesnt talk down to him like a kid and has always has good candy in his office, and maybe in my personal fantasy world ocelot can't resist that "Anything's Legal In International Waters" temptation revelation if you know what I'm saying. But I'll save that for another ask bc I know everyone's not the craziest about my noncelot headcanons. Hml if you are tho.

Of course if youre a Normal Person Eyeroll Tm, theres the whole unopened can of worms of liquid (NOW LEGAL!) in iraq, weakened and brainwashed and tortured, rescued by the us government supposedly but, again...I like to think that if ocelot didnt personally rescue him he definitely orchestrated someone else doing so for him. Like cmon. 1994? Ten years after their first meeting? It's just too poetic for me to not make that conclusion!!!

Literally it's ridiculous how much juice there is for them. You see all that bullshit I just yapped? That's only HALF THEIR TIMELINE. I literally feel fucking BAD for writing that much dude but holy shit if you're intrigued enough to want to know my foxhound era/why liquid da arm all the sudden thoughts....pls lmk. But yea I'll shut my trap now HEHEH.

Tl;dr ocelot gave eli his own walkman on motherbase preloaded with a cassette of basic glam metal he thought hed like and it touched his demented bpd heart so deeply that shit went to his grave with him at shadow moses

#no tags we die like men #....unless..? #idk well see #asks

[witchthewriter]

Hi, how are you? Can I get a Grishaverse, Merlin and LOTR matchup (level five) with a male please? 😊 I'm a curvy brunette girl (she/her) with olive skin and brown chocolate eyes. I can be stubborn sometimes and insecure but I'm also compassionate, kind-hearted, funny, loyal, homey, thoughtful, protective of my love ones and a daydreamer. I'm also bilingual, ambivert, INFP and Gryffindor. I have a curious and creative mind. I'm always up for an adventure, I love exploring new places as well as reading, writing and painting (although I'm not very good at it, but it brings me joy) 😊 Listening to music is my air, I'm always singing or humming a song. And some of my favourite things are stargazing, watching movies, going on walks in the forest, the smell of the rain and Christmas!✨ Thank you !! 💛

Want one? Here be the rules 🦋🌈 

You legit sound like the sweetest person alive. I hope we can be friends!

𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑱𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒂𝒉𝒆𝒚! I think you guys would be absolutely adorable together! You would really help him with his negative traits. Like he would see you as a light in his life - hope for the future, and hope for himself. That he has someone on his side who will be there for him. 

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

・You’re always protected, even if you don’t know it. You’ve actually wormed your way into Kaz’s heart as well as the rest of the Crows. So trouble and danger hardly ever make their way to your door. 

・Jesper absolutely LOVES to dress you guys with something shared. So if he wears something green, like a tie or ring, then you have a green necklace or something matching in your own style. 

・God you guys have so much fun together. A lot of it is just laughing at each other’s jokes because the banter is out of this world. Jesper lightens your mood no matter how terrible you’re feeling. 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Flying by James Newton Howard

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

・Touch-starved And Didn’t Know It (You) x The Most Cuddly Person On Earth (Jesper)

・The Gomez and Morticia Adams (He worships the ground you walk on)

・Loud x Quiet / Sun x Moon

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

He loves how much you daydream, but also how dreamy you are overall. You seem too good to be true. Like a gift that was meant for someone else but somehow he intercepted it. 

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

Your best friend would be Inej and Nina! The three of you are such good friends. With Inej’s responsibility, Nina’s love for fun and your creativity - things become chaotic pretty quickly, but not too far because Inej always has your guys’ backs. 

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑺𝒊𝒓 𝑳𝒆𝒐𝒏! The most loyal and responsible of the knights, but not without a love of humour. I think he’d be your perfect match, even out of the three. He would make you feel so safe and you’d know you could depend on him for anything. 

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

・Knew he wanted to marry you within the first week of knowing you. You weren’t even together when he had the ring bought

・Always does things for you - getting things from the markets when you don’t feel like it, taking out the rubbish, looking after the gardens when you aren’t up to it

・He’s actually a very good singer and hums a lot. You were so shocked when he first started doing it. Never would you have thought this man would be so in tune

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

For The Love Of A Princess by James Horner

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

・Soulmates. Meant To Be Together. 

・It’s Always Been You

・Similar Personalities/Two Sides Of The Same Coin

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

He loves your mind. Your creativity and open mind keep him on his toes. He thinks it’s amazing. You give him new ways of thinking, and different perspectives to what he’s grown up with. 

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

Guinevere! Oh god, you guys are both so lovely. I think you would have the most caring and gentle relationship. Your emotions are always thought about and she wants to be around you all the time. Well, everyone wants to be around you all the time. 

𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑩𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒓! He would love you to your very core. Boromir would match well with a person who is homely, welcoming and warm. Who likes to make their home ... a home. Some people like to travel, and their home is wherever they lay their head. But I think Boromir would like to be able to physically go home to your cottage, and there he would feel the most peaceful. 

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

・You love watching him with the Hobbits. It makes you yearn for a family with him. Boromir is literal Dad™

・Gazes at you A LOT. Just this loving gaze. Literal heart eyes. His smile is so dreamy. 

・You made a necklace for him out of twine and this gorgeous stone you found on one of your little adventures together. He wears it every single day. 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Wondrous Love by Bear McCreary

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

・When Two Of The Sweetest people In The Room Are In Love

・Tol x Smol

・You Fell First, He Fell Harder

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

Your compassion! You can see that people have a duality. No one is all good or all bad. Well, except for orcs. But everyone else - people can make mistakes, and people can be incredibly kind. No one is perfect. That’s the whole point. 

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

Samwise and Frodo! Well, all of the Hobbits love you. (In this world I guess you are a Hobbit? Maybe half-hobbit?) Even the little kids want to be around you. There’s something so caring, and at times even motherly, about you. It makes people feel warm in your presence. And actually, a lot of people feel safe telling you their secrets. 

Samwise had always been your neighbour, you grew up together. He’s like a brother to you, and is completely protective over you. 

Frodo is your best friend because you have an understanding about the world. Like you’re on the same page and wavelength. 

#ships #pair ups #match ups

[crowgreeds]

duress

rpcdev word of the day

Duress doesn't really work on Kaz, honestly unless you know of his One 'weakness' which in canon is his feelings towards Inej and in canon almost cost him and his crew everything. If you try to threaten or force something on him it is like trying to make a donkey move because he doesn't play by any rules except his own. He will manipulate and twist any situation given into something that favours him and if necessary has the capability of making threats and applying duress on the other party. 

A favourite example of this for me is in the beginning of soc where he is at this parlay with another gang and it turns out to be a trap to get him killed which he knew about cuz ofc he did. Ballsy bastard walks right up to the gun being pointed at them and goes 'shoot me, go on do it.' but then they follow that up with a threat against the woman the other man is seeing  (he claimed that he had people waiting to send her residence and the woman herself in flames)  if they don't walk out unscathed. 

And it works. Because Kaz has built up this awful reputation around himself so people, even those in his inner circle, believe these ghastly threats even when he hasn't done anything at all. (which isn't exactly great but that's a whole another can of worms) As they have stated 'when everyone knows you're a monster, you needn't waste time doing every monstrous thing' and it just goes to show how good they are at manipulating the situation for their own gain so unless someone knows the very specific buttons to push with Kaz, and not many do, good luck trying to apply duress on him.

#rpcdev #violence tw #the really bad monsters never look like monsters/ headcanons

[gemma-collins-ily]

Hey, congrats again!! I just couldn't resist asking for another one haha I hope it's not a bother!

Can I get a 💌 for Kaz Brekker? Thanks :)

The Very Same Corner Fold

a/n - it's not a bother at all, I actually already had a quote in mind!

Here's my 100 follower celebration if you want to request anything here!

"Let's commit the perfect crime. I'll steal your heart and you steal mine."

Kaz Brekker never expected to fall in love. But he did. You had wormed your way into his heart with small affections and caring considerations. You had just been you. Bringing cups of chamomile, to help him unwind if he needed to, was your way of signifying he needed to slow down for a moment, just let himself think and breathe without having his hand constantly cramp and bend at awkward angles to sign papers. And to everyone's surprise, yours included, he listened. He would shake out his hand and pick up the porcelain cup, indeed swilling it and gulping the scalding liquid down as was expected of the true Kaz fashion. But he had stopped. For you, and for himself. Even if it were only a break of five minutes, you would leave his office satisfied, knowing you'd helped. If he needed to power through, having to obsessively check over floor plans and layouts the day before heists, you'd bring coffee and lots of it. You'd sit silently either at the foot of his bed or simply on the floor, blatantly ignoring the chair placed before the desk and opposite his own. He would buy old paperbacks you never thought would see the light of day again from the old, vintage style shop down the street, the ones that cost substantially more than you would ever allow yourself to spend at once. You'd gasp when you saw them placed upon your bed, resting upon the pristine and pressed covers that were folded back with a small triangular shape at the edge. At first, you had wondered who would do such a thing, make your bed, smooth out the comforter that was always heaped or strewn over the floor or buy you a novel you had talked about for weeks. Then, you'd entered Kaz's bedroom office and seen the way his covers were folded exactly as yours were, the very same corner fold at the edge. You had stolen his heart before he'd even known you were making your way there. And he had stolen yours before you knew he held it in his hands. It was the perfect crime. Just what you'd expect.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker fic #shadow and bone #kaz brekker imagine #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fic #grishaverse #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse fic

[inthegistoftime]

Can you do headcanons of Kaz needing to apologize to his crush?

Of course my darling 🥰 this isn't my best work, but I hope you enjoy it regardless xx

Kaz apologising hcs

Ah yes

nothin like drama in the workplace

At this point do you even remember what he did?

yes because we're salty

the atmosphere is tense

you and the gang are in a carriage

Jesper and Inej can barely breathe

You're pissed off so ofc your arms are folded over your chest

or under if you have massive mommy milkers like me

Whenever Kaz speaks you roll your eyes and frown in ✨ disgust ✨

stfu Kaz, I'm mad 😤

He barely even remembers what he did at this point

He thinks it's very childish that you're ignoring him

Everytime you make eye contact you turn your head away, nose up in the air with a "Hmph"

He's tryin to remember what he did to upset you

but his mind draws a blank so he's like ???????

You guys arrive at your destination

and unfortunately for you, you're stuck with Kaz for this one chief

So you push your annoyance and anger to the side in order to get this job done and not end up dead

You and Kaz wander around a dock in search of someone

you don't know why and honestly, with how upset you were, you didn't really care

you end up finding the guy and manage to worm some information outta him

but things get pretty heated

you have to put your hand on this guys chest a couple of times

so he gets the hint to back off

you get your hand slapped a few times

aswell as glares

and a "don't touch me you worthless bitch"

Ahhh, just a casual Tuesday morning

you managed to piss this guy off so much that he called his squad on you both

so

bang bang

Y'all are being once again shot at 😀

You shove Kaz behind a crate, much to his dismay

before dropping yourself right next to him

"I knew that today would go bad" You sassed

"I'm sorry"

"HUH???"

" I saiD I DON'T REMEMBER WHAT I DID TO UPSET YOU, BUT I APOLOGISE FOR MY ACTIONS THIS MORNING AS WELL AS THE SITUATION WE ARE CURRENTLY IN!"

You stared at him, eyes wide

when you spit out:

"sssson of a bITCH" with a chuckle

poor Kaz, he is very confused

he adores you, but you don't make sense

He's relieved tho when he sees the smile on your face

"Let's get the hell outta here"

xxx

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x you #six of crows #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #kazzle dazzle #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker headcanons #my work #headcanons

[tickly-trashcan]

Height Matters {KazuScara}

A/N: i actually wrote this a little bit ago, way before Kazuha was announced so i apologize if he’s ooc orz. I’m also working through sentence starters and headcanons, sorry for the wait! some are already queued so expect them soon! Anyways, hope yall enjoy this one!

Summary: After noticing Kazuha’s height, Scaramouche finds himself a bit down in the dumps. How will Kazuha cheer him up?

Word Count: 1.6k (under the cut)

Scaramouche grumbled. He was spending some time with Kazuha, exploring the waters in a cove. Scaramouche had taken off his sandals and hat for better maneuvering, and Kazuha had removed his own shoes as well when Scaramouche noticed something.

He had taken plenty of time to observe his partner’s features. His cream colored hair with a single red streak, the moles that decorated his shoulder blades, his beautiful crimson eyes that could make all of Scaramouche’s worries melt away with a simple glance paired with that sickeningly sweet smile of his. 

But there was something that Scaramouche noticed now that they were standing next to each other as Kazuha held his hand above his eyes, blocking out the sun as he stared over the water. The waves crashed gently against the sand of the cove, making sloshing noises that echoed over the stone cliffs that came over them.

Scaramouche looked over at Kazuha when he noticed it. He wasn’t looking directly at Kazuha, he was looking up at him. Scaramouche felt his heart sink as he noticed that now that he didn’t have his shoes on he was in fact shorter than his partner. 

Kazuha smiled fondly at the water, taking in a deep breath of the salty air as Scaramouche slowly raised his hand, placing it on his head and sliding it off towards Kazuha, realizing it hit just above his ear. Scaramouche’s face darkened as Kazuha turned to Scaramouche when he felt the sudden touch by his ear, showing yet another sweet smile to Scaramouche.

“What’s going on Scar?”

“...You’re taller than me.” He said darkly, and Kazuha’s smile quickly vanished. He held his hand flat on his head and dragged it across the air, seeing that it ended up roughly two inches above Scaramouche’s head. Scaramouche grumbled, and Kazuha frowned. 

He didn’t think it was funny, he knew how self-conscious Scaramouche was with his height, and he definitely didn’t want him to start hating Kazuha because he was a bit taller than him, so Kazuha immediately began to sputter as he tried to find some comforting words.

“Your height doesn’t matter! Plus the shoes add on some extra height, you’re completely fine Scar! Trust me, I wouldn’t lie to you about that!” Kazuha started, waving his hands around in frantic gestures as Scaramouche grumbled, crossing his arms as he sat down in the sand, crossing his legs.

Kazuha frowned, feeling like he wasn’t able to successfully comfort his partner. He sat next to him with a sad look on his face, almost akin to a pout as he glanced over at Scaramouche, who still wore an angry look on his face. 

“I’m sorry Scar…” Kazuha said sadly, and though Scaramouche gave no answer, his expression softened as he glanced over at Kazuha, who frowned.

Scaramouche sighed. He figured he had overreacted a bit, especially with someone like Kazuha who felt responsible to comfort his friends and those close to him. Scaramouche turned to face Kazuha, opening his arms slightly as Kazuha looked at him.

“No, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault, I shouldn’t be angry.”

Kazuha bit his lip to keep himself from smiling wider than before. He was so happy that Scaramouche wasn’t upset with him and he immediately dove into the offered hug, wrapping his arms around Scaramouche’s tiny waist as he held him tightly, Scaramouche letting out a short yelp of surprise with how tightly he was hugged.

Scaramouche wasn’t big on affection, even with Kazuha. He was always the one to initiate it, whether it be a quick forehead kiss or a brief side-hug, and Kazuha respected that. However, there was one thing Kazuha was able to initiate on his own.

A grin creeped up Kazuha’s face as his hands rested on Scaramouche’s waist, Kazuha gently tracing circles on it as Scaramouche froze in the hug, squeezing Kazuha a tad tighter.

“Kaz, no-”

“I think you need a bit of reassurance though, Scar. Can’t have a great Harbinger like yourself feeling insecure about something as silly as his height, now can we?”

Before Scaramouche could let out another word, opening his mouth to speak while all that escaped was a shriek as Kazuha suddenly latched onto his waist fully, giving it a firm squeeze. Scaramouche crumpled forward, pulling his arms off of Kazuha and using his hands to grab at Kazuha’s, squirming in his grip.

“K-Kahahahaz! I hahate you!” Scaramouche immediately gasped out, and Kazuha only chuckled as he pinched his sides, slowly travelling down to his hips before kneading them like dough, Scaramouche throwing his head back as he laughed loudly.

“NOhohoho! Not thehehere!” Scaramouche wailed, and Kazuha only hummed as he continued to squeeze his hips, digging his thumb into the bone and wiggling it around as Scaramouche spasmed in his grip, unable to worm away.

“If you say you’re a lovely height I’ll stop,” Kazuha said, though he knew Scaramouche would never say anything like that.

“Shuhuhut up! Like hehehehell I’d say thahahat!” Scaramouche squealed, jolting when Kazuha pinched where his hip and upper thigh met, a shrill squeak escaping his lips. Kazuha grinned, pinching there again as Scaramouche let out a similar chirp. Scaramouche shook his head but Kazuha simply grabbed onto his upper thighs, squeezing them as Scaramouche positively cackled, throwing his head back as his shrieky laughter echoed through the cove.

Kazuha chuckled at Scaramouche’s rather dramatic laughter, though it was part of what he loved about him. He never let anyone else so much as touch him, but with Kazuha he would be alright with the occasional poke or prod. He wasn’t sure about full-on tickling, but…

Scaramouche wasn’t making much of a move in terms of trying to get Kazuha to stop, and he hadn’t asked him to either. This piqued Kazuha’s interest, and as he slowly travelled down Scaramouche’s thighs, he decided to ask about it.

“Scar… do you like this?” Kazuha asked curiously, and Scaramouche’s face went as red as his eye makeup. He shook his head frantically, jolting when Kazuha’s hands brushed his knees.

Kazuha took note of this but paused his tickling, wanting an answer from his partner.

“Do you?”

Scaramouche didn’t answer, and when he didn’t Kazuha grabbed his knees and gave them a firm squeeze, making him practically scream as he arched his back, trying to uncross his legs which was proving difficult as Kazuha easily squeezed just above his kneecap, sending Scaramouche into a fit of hysterics.

Kazuha realized he likely wouldn’t get an answer if he was attacking Scaramouche in a spot that made him unable to do anything but screech and laugh hysterically, but he didn’t really care. 

“KAHAHahahazuha! Kahahaha - Kazuha!” Was all Scaramouche managed to say before bursting into a fit of unintelligible hysterics, completely spasming as Kazuha hummed, teasing his partner.

“You’re pretty ticklish here, huh? You sure you don’t like it?”

Scaramouche shook his head, a screech bursting from his throat as Kazuha went back to his upper thighs, squeezing the sensitive flesh as Scaramouche arched his back, trying to worm away again before Kazuha wrapped an arm around his waist, gently squeezing his side as he kept him from rolling away.

“Stahahahap! STAHAHAhap!” Scaramouche screamed, his face bright pink as tears started to prick the corners of his eyes. Kazuha ceased his fingers but still held onto Scaramouche, who panted heavily. He looked at Kazuha who offered him a shy smile, Scaramouche quickly glaring at him before shoving him off and into the sand, Kazuha laughing.

“You think it’s funny? I’ll give you something to laugh about!” Scaramouche threatened, and Kazuha immediately started shrieking as Scaramouche pounced on him, hands descending on his sides as Kazuha squealed, immediately squirming as Scaramouche straddled him, digging his fingers in rather hard as Kazuha laughed.

“Scahahahar! Wahahahait, I’m sorrehehe! I didn’t mean it!”

“It’s too late for apologies, Kaz, now suffer,” Scaramouche said, his tone dark as Kazuha shook his head, cackling when Scaramouche crept up to his ribs, a spot he knew was especially sensitive as he dug in, vibrating his fingers against the skin as Kazuha spazzed.

“SCAHAHahahar! Not thehehehere!” Kazuha shrieked, kicking his legs weakly as he covered his face with his hands, only exposing himself more as Scaramouche continued to easily tickle his partner.

“How do you like it, huh? Not so pleasant, now is it?”

“It is! GAha! No no no not thehehehere!” Kazuha shrieked when Scaramouche started to prod at his upper ribs, slowing his pace slightly as his attention was caught by what Kazuha said.

“Kaz… do you like this?” Scaramouche asked, and Kazuha nodded his head. Scaramouche pulled his hands back, Kazuha catching his breath as he looked at Scaramouche with a confused look on his face.

“Why did you stop?”

Scaramouche felt his cheeks warm as he averted his gaze from Kazuha, who sat up and chuckled.

“It’s not embarrassing to like it, Scar,” Kazuha said, holding Scaramouche’s hand as he huffed, his eyes still looking away from Kazuha.

“I don’t like it, I only tolerate it because… because it’s you,” Scaramouche said softly, making Kazuha’s heart melt. Kazuha threw his arms around Scaramouche, who gasped at the sudden touch, though he didn’t pull away. He hugged Kazuha back, still frowning as his grumpiness slowly faded.

“Kahahahaz!” Scaramouche suddenly wailed when Kazuha’s hands were back on him, digging into his ribs with ease as Scaramouche flailed around, trying to escape Kazuha’s devious fingers.

“What’s wrong? You said you tolerated it!” Kazuha teased and Scaramouche could only laugh as he realized those words had basically dug his own grave. He threw his head back as laughter poured from his lips, Kazuha laughing with him as he dug under his arms, making his partner squeal. 

Kazuha had definitely succeeded in one thing that day, and that was making Scaramouche completely forget about his height, and as the two of them laughed in each others arms, all insecurities were forgotten.

#kazuscara #kazuha #scaramouche #genshin impact #tickle fic

[thebadgerclan]

I’m Your Girl

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: Even if it’s for a job, Jesper hates seeing someone else flirt with you...

Jesper’s fingers twitched towards his beloved pearl-handled revolvers at his hips, longing to pull them from the holsters and shoot the bastard that was sitting next to you.  But he knew he couldn’t do that, or he’d completely blow the job.  Your task was simple: cozy up to Rollins’ new lackey and worm whatever information you could out of him.  Unfortunately, this meant sitting uncomfortably close to him and batting your lashes at him, simpering like an easy woman.

 Kaz had told Jesper, in no uncertain terms, not to interfere with your work; he’d gone so far as to forbid him from being in the bar.  But Jesper had scoffed, holstering his guns.  “I’m not leaving my girl alone with that piece of trash.��  He’d promised to stay well out of your way, not to interfere and let you do your job.  You were Jesper’s baby, his perfect, darling girl, and he was insanely protective of you.  Anything could happen in the Barrel, and Kaz’s influence and protection only reached so far.

And he’d kept to his promise: sitting in the corner, an untouched glass of kvas in his hand, watching your interactions closely.  “Anton,” you cooed, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger.  “Tell me, what’s Pekka Rollins really like?”  Anton smirked, inching closer in his seat to you. “He’s a tough guy,” Rollins’ man said.  “Brutal, but he gets the job done.  You can bet on this: when Pekka wants something, he’s gonna get it.  But I’m not interested in talking about work right now.”

Jealousy surged through Jesper’s veins watching you.  In his not so humble opinion, he should be the only man who got to sit so close to you, to buy you drinks and look at you like Anton was.  “What I’m interested in,” Anton continued.  “Is knowing how a gorgeous thing like you survives in the Barrel all by yourself.”  Jesper grit his teeth, tamping down the urge to flip the table before him and wrap his hand around Anton’s neck.  That’s my girl you’re talking to, asshole, he thought.  One wrong move and you’ll find a bullet in your skull.

“I’ve been very fortunate,” you said, eyes downcast, the picture of a woman alone in Ketterdam, just scraping by.  In other words, the polar opposite of who you were.  “But Pekka Rollins must be very generous.  Word on the street is that his crew broke into Os Alta’s treasury?”  Jesper nodded to himself, you were steering the conversation back to where you wanted it, and more importantly, away from his flirtations.  “Yeah,” Anton confirmed.  “Took three months to plan and another month to carry out.  Dolohov almost lost a leg on the way out.”

“So you succeeded?” you asked, and Anton nodded.  “Wasn’t easy, but yeah.  Lifted about 20,000 kruge worth.”  “Incredible,” you breathed, and Anton grinned, resting one hand on your thigh.  Jesper’s vision went red, and he bit his lip to keep from reacting.  “Alright, I’ve told you something, now you tell me something.”  “Alright,” you agreed, crossing your legs, effectively shooing his hand away.

“Have you always been so fucking sexy, or is it a recent change?  Because I’m certain I would’ve noticed such a gorgeous thing in the Barrel before today.”  You blushed deeply, and Jesper audily snarled, throwing back his entire glass of kvas in two gulps, slamming the glass on the table.  Whether your cheeks had darkened from embarrassment, flattery, or Ghezen forbid arousal, it made Jesper furious.  Not at you, at Anton, the idiot who had the nerve to say such lewd things to you.  And beneath his red hot anger, Jesper realized the root of his jealousy.  He wanted to be the only person to make you blush, he wanted to be the only one who could turn your cheeks such a pretty pink.

He didn’t hear the rest of your conversation, and Jesper could only hope you got the information you came for.  But he noticed when you rose and gave him the signal, turning and exiting the bar.  10 minutes after, Jesper left as well, winding through the streets back to the Slat.  You were in Kaz’s office, reporting what you’d earned.  “They lifted 20,000 kruge worth of Ravkan money, but he didn’t specify a conversion.”

Kaz nodded.  “Nikolai has plenty of smart people to convert the numbers for him..  We’ll send word to Os Alta.  Good work.”  You thanked Kaz and left the office, only to find Jesper waiting for you.  “Hey love,” you greeted, but Jesper only nodded, taking your hand and practically dragging you up the three flights of stairs and into your room.  He shut the door and pulled you into his arms, kissing you hard.  Jesper’s arms were tight around you, holding you flush to his body as he kissed you.

“I hated seeing you flirt with that rat,” he said, lips mere millimeters from yours.  “Watching you bat your lashes at him, fuck, I saw red.”  You kissed your boyfriend again, taking his face in your hands.  “I hated flirting with him.  I almost vomited when he put his hand on me.  I wanted to break his wrist.”  Jesper returned the kiss, sitting on the bed and pulling you into his lap.  “I almost shot him for daring to look at you.”

He kissed you again, getting lost in your embrace, and you sighed, letting him do as he pleased.  “I’m yours, Jes,” you said when Jesper pulled back for air.  “I’m your girl, Jes, not his, never his.  Just yours.”  Your boyfriend sealed his lips over yours again, this kiss gentler than the previous ones.  “Y/N,” he whispered, shifting you so you were sitting sideways in his lap, head on his shoulder, his arms still tight around you.  “I love you, my girl.  You nuzzled your nose into his neck, kissing the underside of his jaw.  “I’m your girl, Jesper.  I love you too.”

#jesper fahey x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #jesper fahey x you #shadow and bone reader insert

[mindofasupernova]

The Inventor Part 3

Kaz Brekker x reader

Description: A killer is on the loose, eliminating Kaz's informants. In a desperate attempt, Kaz meets a certain inventor that has his mind racing, trying to figure out the complex puzzle she is.

When the news of a murder in Von Raske's autumn ball reached Kaz's ears, his breath froze, an icy hand tightening his grip on his heart. Lord Von Raske was a close acquaintance of the Grand Duke Y/LN, fear invaded his mind, a single statement playing on repeat like a broken melody: Y/N had been there.

Dirtyhands had immediately sent Inej to check up on Y/N while he tried to distract himself by finishing paperwork. Two weeks had passed since their secret rendezvous, two weeks since Y/N had given him the list of components that created the poison and in those two weeks, he hadn't contacted her.

The next morning, he and his crows had spent the whole day making inquiries about possible buyers and indentured Grisha acquiring an excessive amount of alloys. No luck. No one knew anything. The only thing he had gotten were another two corpses with the same symptoms.

He had refused to call Y/N despite the little voice in the back of his mind telling him to bring the brilliant inventor, who would surely enjoy an excuse to abandon her royal life for a few hours. Even when there were no new bodies, these whispers urged him to arrange another meeting so he could just hear her chatter about dissections methods as if she were talking about the weather. Kaz shook his head, tossed his treacherous thoughts into a vault in the back of his mind while scolding himself for wanting the company of someone he barely knew.

Kaz thoughts kept drifting back to the inventor, too worried for her safety that he failed to notice Inej's presence in his office until she quietly spoke.

"She's alright, Kaz, but she believes these murders aren't just an act of vengeance against the Dregs. She wants to meet again to share her theories." Kaz glanced up, evaluating Inej words.

If it weren't for the tragedy at the ball, he would have kept thinking some other gang wanted to initiate a war against the Dregs, but now he was sure this was deeper than a petty quarrel.

Kaz nodded, analyzing the spy's face. Eyes dropping down to Inej's hands, she wore what looked liked to be a set of thin brass knuckles, two rings adjusting at her pinkies and index fingers that joined a smooth metal band facing her palm. Before Kaz could open his mouth, Inej answered his unspoken question.

"Y/N made them for me. She told me she'd noticed my chipped nails and slightly blistered hands from climbing flat buildings. She fabricated these, they work as some type of magnet, using the force of momentum and creating friction on plain surfaces." Inej's gentle voice explained, an endearing look as she stared at her knuckles.

"She gave me some truffles to bring back to the club, she thought Nina might like them."

He hadn't failed to notice Inej's troubled expression when he had ordered her to go to the Y/LN Manor. Whether he wanted it or not, the brilliant royal was worming her way into his Crows' hearts.

Kaz hummed in response, "We are meeting tomorrow at 9 in the morning, I'll tell Jesper to deliver a note."

"I'll do it right now. I want to try these." Inej gestured at the brass knuckles and without a word slipped out the window.

____________

Y/N

"Need a ride, doll?" Mr. Fahey called out, opening the hansom's door, inviting Y/N to hop inside.

Yesterday, Inej had silently returned to her room, bearing Kaz's news about the meeting. Y/N's heart thrummed excitedly in her chest, the notion of seeing the Crows again lighted up her day.

Y/N had told Ms. Ghafa she'd investigated around her social circle and that they needed to pay a visit to Mercher Dupont's valet, Dupont's most trusted employee.

"Greetings and thank you, Mr. Fahey" Y/N said politely as she stepped inside, taking a seat next to the Wraith.

"Why are you so sure the valet will have the answers we are looking for? Is he related to those theories you wanted to speak of?" interrupted Kaz, always so straightforward.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Brekker. And they aren't just theories. You see, after the very unfortunate incident at the ball, I took it upon myself to investigate Mercher Dupont's whereabouts in the past two weeks."

"Whereabouts? What does that have to do with his murder?" the raven-haired boy pondered.

"Everything. Someone knew he'd be returning from his secret trip today and that he would go directly to the ball. It's quite obvious actually." Y/N said, watching the streets distractedly through the window as the carriage started moving.

"It's not obvious to me." voiced Jesper.

Y/N turned to look at her confused companions. Kaz frowned deepened when the girl turned to him, waiting for him to show he understood. When she was met with silence, the corners of her mouth tugged upwards, clearly proud she had noticed something the infamous criminal mastermind had not. Kaz didn't share her enthusiasm.

"When Mercher Dupont arrived at the ball he was jumpier than usual, eager to avoid conversation with anyone. It was clear he had traveled outside the country: his skin was tanned, constantly scratching and pulling at his sleeves covering what were likely mosquito bites. His shoe soles were stained with grass and an orange stain, probably jurda, laces had been recently cleaned but messily tied as if he had been in a rush to arrive on time. Jurda, mosquitos, and scorching sun at this time of year, we can only find those three in Novyi Zem." Y/N beamed, words tumbling out of her lips as if her life depended on them.

"Besides, my mother talked with his wife this morning. The poor woman said that weeks prior he'd raced into his hansom, disappearing for two whole weeks and when he had finally returned, he and his valet refused to tell her a thing." the inventor finished, just as the carriage stopped moving.

"Wait, I thought we were heading to Dupont's residence." Y/N interrupted, as the trio jumped down the carriage, a few blocks away from a jewelry shop.

"Tell me, Y/LN, would you like to see what we do for a living?" Kaz asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I did not come here to witness a robbery. Much less to help with your wicked schemes." Y/N retorted, a defiant raise of her head, body betraying her when she stepped out of the carriage as well.

"I thought you'd enjoy participating in illegal affairs since you seem so eager to associate with a bunch of criminals. Where's your sense of adventure?" Kaz taunted with a smug look on his face.

"I left it on the carriage and would very much like to go back to get it." returned the girl, crossing her arms and straightening her posture. "If you believe my willingness to help you indicates I relish taking things from others then, you are awfully mistaken."

"How do you know you don't like it if you've never done it?" Jesper joined in.

"There's nothing like a heist early in the morning." the sharpshooter said, twirling his guns before hiding them in his coat.

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh but followed nonetheless. Kaz Brekker will be my downfall.

__________

Jesper took the driver's place, dismissing the coach, being their "escape driver" as Kaz had dubbed him.

Y/N entered the shop first, a veil covering her face, and pretended to be deeply interested in some ruby rings. She was only there to watch, Kaz had assured.

A few minutes later, Kaz walked in wearing a security guard uniform, where he had managed to obtain one, Y/N had no idea. He slowly prowled to the counter, adopting his role with such grace that it stunned Y/N. When he reached the vendor, he started conversing with him as if they had known each other for years.

Every step, every gesture, every word was calculated. In another life, Mr. Brekker would have made a fine actor. A very charming and talented actor. The thought crossed Y/N's mind before she could stop it. Kaz Brekker was a dangerous man, he'd heard the horrified whispers that preceded his name, a heartless monster that terrified the streets of Ketterdam.

But now that she knew him, Y/N wasn't sure if he was as despicable as the rumors stated. He could have taken her hostage when her identity was revealed, betrayed what she had been doing in Mr. Zhang's shop in hopes of earning money, but he didn't.

Most importantly he had never doubted her abilities when he discovered she was a woman, never belittled her as many high-class men had done. In fact, she could have sworn Kaz was pleasantly surprised when she'd earnestly started the autopsy. His lips barely tugging upwards, when she handed him the list.

Y/N had also noticed how he was always covered head to toe, not a sliver of skin showing apart from his head. She had perceived the way he always avoided touches, careful of not brushing against anyone, staying away from big crowds. It made Y/N wonder why skin contact repulsed him, she wanted to figure out his enigmatic persona and discover the reason for which his heart raced.

"Fire! Fire!" with a startled jump she came back to reality, eyes landing on the blazing curtains near a thin metal drawer that was slowly melting in revealing golden necklaces.

Y/N desperately hoped this wasn't Kaz's plan, by now everyone inside was aware of the fire, quickly pushing to get to the exit. Y/N squinted her eyes at the smoke, looking for Kaz, scared he had been injured during this little stunt. But before she could call out his name, she was being pushed outside.

Y/N hurried back to hansom where Jesper and Inej were already waiting, rapidly swirling around, she almost bumped into Kaz's chest.

"That's your idea of fun?" Y/N questioned, sending a murderous glare Kaz's way, a mask to hide her relief at finding him safe and unscathed.

"Says the person who finds joy in carving corpses open." Kaz retorted, his infamous smirk widening and stepping inside the hansom, closing the door after the two girls. "But it worked, didn't it?"

Y/N turned to look at him in confusion, Kaz's smirk widening when he pulled a pendant from his coat, but it wasn't any ordinary piece, it was THE Pink Star Necklace. This necklace was the source of the hottest gossip, created by a durast master as a gift for the upcoming arrival of a Shu dignitary's daughter.

"Incentive and distraction. I knew this necklace was kept in that shop, I just didn't know where." Kaz explained proudly "The obvious instinct was rescuing the most valuable piece inside."

"That being the necklace, delivered into your waiting hands." Y/N laughed, an incredulous grin at Kaz's ingenuity.

The rumors were true, he indeed had a wonderful mind. The crime of the century without even lifting a finger. She couldn't help her smile, wondering what other tricks Kaz had under his sleeve.

"Very clever, Mr. Brekker. I'm impressed."

Kaz's smug look never faltered but his eyes softened "You've just seen the beginning."

_________

The valet had been lounging outside when they arrived at Dupont's residence. The three crows and the inventor approached, Kaz skipped straight to the point without waiting for pleasantries. After several unanswered questions and the valet affirming he couldn't tell where his master had disappeared to for the last couple of weeks, Kaz looked ready to bash his skull with his cane.

However, before his blood painted the white roses red and Y/N had a new body to examine, she quickly intervened.

"Does Mercher Openheilmer know of your affair with his sister?" and just like that, the valet was desperately sputtering the whole story of his life out.

Apparently, Mercher Dupont had woken him up in haste, ordered him to fetch the carriage, and to drive to Fourth Harbor as if the Devil himself chased after his soul. When they had gotten there, his master had hired a schooner and Captain Wagner's small crew to Novyi Zem apart from that, he knew nothing more.

In a quick bumpy ride, they arrived at Fourth Harbor looking for a certain Captain and his crew.

"Blackmail. Who would have thought Marchioness Y/N performed such ghastly deeds." Kaz mocked, while they walked to Wagner's petit schooner.

"Oh hush, you're just mad I didn't let you beat the valet up."

Kaz raised a hand, gesturing for all of them to be quiet. Heavy grunts and shattering glass could be heard from inside the ship. Inej drew her knives and Jesper pulled out his pistols, each one went their own way while Y/N trailed quietly behind Kaz as they entered the dark rickety schooner.

The captain's quarters were a mess, papers scattered and drawers open, someone was in a hurry. Y/N saw a shiny pistol laying on a coffee-stained desk, it was loaded, she hesitantly grasped it, adjusting her grip like he had seen Jesper do. She had never held a gun before, but any form of protection was welcome.

Swirling back around, Kaz was nowhere in sight, with uncertain steps she stepped into the adjoining room, shakily raising the gun. A burly blond-haired man, Captain Wagner, shoved clothes desperately into a suitcase, he froze and stared wide-eyed at Y/N. The man was sweating, pudgy hands shaking, ragged breaths escaping his mouth, he was terrified.

"I mean no harm, I simply wish to talk about one of your clients, Mercher Dupont." Y/N raised her hands in surrender, daintily placing the gun on the floor not wanting to scare the man further.

The captain nodded, taking a step forward, but before Y/N could utter a word, he lunged at her knife glinting in the moonlight. A surprised gasp left Y/N's lips when the man shoved her to the floor. Captain Wagner pinned her down, knife raised in a direct line to her throat. When his hand dived to meet its target, Y/N desperately raised her hands catching his grip, a poor attempt at preventing the sharp metal from sealing her fate. Wagner pushed harder, merely seconds before her blood decorated the cabin's walls, a crow's head sunk into the plane of her attacker's shoulder, eliciting a broken scream from the man, and with a swift kick to the ribs, Kaz yanked the man off of Y/N. Drawing quivering breaths, Y/N sat up and watched as Kaz pressed the hill of his boot into Wagner's injured shoulder.

"Why did you attack her and why in such a hurry? Why was Dupont so eager to leave for Novyi Zem?!" Kaz growled, rage blazing in his midnight eyes.

"P-Please, I got nothin' to do with Dupont's business," Wagner whined, a sharp cried pierced the air when Dirtyhands shattered his shoulder blade with a quick jab. Y/N tore her gaze away, when she turned to reprimand Kaz about his ways, the animalistic glare he sent her way snapped her mouth shut.

"He hired my crew to get him to Novyi Zem, paid good money if we never told anyone about his trip and the many oil barrels he'd insisted on carrying there." he whimpered, trying to free himself from Kaz's visceral grip.

"If I had known the four members of my crew would end up dead for his secrets, I would have never done it. He said his life depended on the secrecy and when I saw your little friend there I thought she was here to kill me just like Dupont. "

"What did he do with the oil barrels?"

"I don't know, Saints! He brought back a Zemeni man, though. P-P-Please, I have done nothin' wrong."

-----------

No one spoke during their walk back to the carriage, a thick silence hung in the air accompanied by the coopery scent wafting from Kaz's blood-splattered clothes.

Y/N was the first to break the silence, "Where are we headed to?"

"We are going to gather information and you are going back home." Kaz harshly replied, voice dripping anger.

"But-"

"No Y/N, what the hell were you thinking?! How more stupid can you be, lowering your guard down?!" Kaz snapped, black charcoal eyes burning a hole through her head.

"The man was trembling, I didn't want to scare him. I-"

"Kindness gets you killed! What was I thinking bringing down a pampered foolish rich girl who wants to play detective!"

"Kaz, there's no need t-" Jesper started.

"No, Jesper! She's a liability! We could have lost Wagner because she refused to use a damn gun!" Kaz snarled, chest heaving.

It would have hurt less if Kaz had slapped her, his words gnawed at Y/N's heartstrings. And yet, she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing the broken look on her face. Y/N schooled her features into that false look of indignance and serious arrogance she had practiced all her life.

"Very well, Mr. Brekker. It's getting late after all" she stated. Inej's comforting hand fell upon her shoulder, she smiled even when tears threatened to fall and glanced at the bleary world outside.

_____________

Fine, if Mr. Brekker isn't willing to speak anymore, I'll take matters into my own hands. Three days and no sign of Kaz. It's okay Y/N reassured herself, she could navigate the streets of the Barrel just fine.

After they had talked with Wagner and discovered Dupont's unseemly affairs that caused the death of four sailors who were also Kaz's informants, Y/N had traveled to The Exchange and after probing for answers (more like blackmailing dealers with Zia Francesca's never-ending gossip) she had gotten the address to a small house where most of the chemicals in the list had been delivered.

Pulling out a gun she had stolen from her father's collection, Y/N knocked on the door. She had failed to use a gun once and it had cost her honest companionship, she wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

The door swung wide open; a sickening smell floated in the air. A scent that made Y/N's eyes water, the scent of something rotten.

Taglist:

@getawayfrommewerewolf, @rika90, @princessleah129, @lady1505

#shadow and bone #six of crows #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker x reader

[femboykaz]

For the ask game: Z, R, N, L :D

(@ the people tagged: go get your love [if you want] in the last paragraph before the cut.) I really reblogged that post and then went straight back to a class huh? 😂

R: Which writers (fanfic or otherwise) do you consider the biggest influence on you and your writing? (putting this one first for convenience)

Bold of you to assume I think about my own writing enough to identify specific influences on it. As far as writing style? I honestly have no clue (^ see above). Content-wise? Different people have encouraged different things that I probably never would have actually written if it weren't for them, but I don't want to call anyone out for specifics in case they don't want to be associated with that. And I don't know where my whump fixation started so I can't really blame someone for my tendency towards hurting characters 😂

Just in general? There are so many people/writers (re: literally everyone who has encouraged me – directly or indirectly – ever) who have had a major influence, so this doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface but: @specializationisforinsects, @doorsclosingslowly, @feelinglikecleopatra, @randomcat1832, come get your love – both for this and just in general because you’re all wonderful people <3 (*end reason for tagging*)

L: Which of your fanfics was the most emotionally challenging to write?

Hhhhhh I mean all of them definitely had/have their moments because there’s always something personal/that I relate to in there? but probably the Inej-centric fic I’d written focusing on recovery from SA and reclaiming body & identity

N: Any fic ideas brewing that you’d care to share?

You sure you want to open that can of worms? /j

Ahhh I have a lot of (typically very vague) ideas that bounce around the screen that is my thoughts (and occasionally they hit all four corners in a row and produce a fic) but hmmm. I’ve started on a long-fic that arose from what was supposed to just be a continuation of a oneshot I wrote months ago. Then it grew an actual plot involving Inej's pirating activities, Heleen, and the Council of Tides, so that’s happening 👀

I’m also still in my Autistic Kaz mood soooo there's a "through-the-years" character study fic cooking on the back burner for that

Z: Is there a story you’ve written that doesn’t seem to get much love?

“A Vow Never to be Broken” aka, early-Dregs-Kaz getting hazed. Which tbh I fully expected it to flop because it’s a short, pre-canon oneshot with no pairings and only one (1) main character so 😂

#listen people are just #so good #and I'm constantly blown away by how supportive and kind people can be #seriously though I am endlessly grateful for everyone who has been #so kind and encouraging #to me and to others #this is so not the point of this whole thing but I cannot get over it #there's good in this world

[klbwriting]

Unexpected Allies - Chapter 6

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: future Kaz/female!Reader

Summary: with the carriage crashed they must continue on horseback

Note: this one is shorter, I wanted to have some nice bonding with Jesper done before we got back to the regularly scheduled story

Taglist: @mcntsee​

              Kaz had felt the weight of the carriage change a moment before they went into the ditch.  It gave him time to get ready so that when they fell, he was able to land on his side instead of his head.  His hip throbbed but he was able to stand quickly and noticed that Y/N hadn’t been so lucky.  Curse his stupid mouth for saying something hurtful to her before this.  He knew brushing off her confessions was callous, but he had been annoyed with her for pulling her legs away from him.  He knew he was petty but that was a new low and now he would have to win back her affection.  Why did he want her affection anyway? O right because his heart was working for once.  Damn.

              He stumbled over to where she lay unconscious and looked around the carriage, finding a way out in the floor.  Must have been a carriage for smuggling, complete with emergency exit if you were caught, smart.  He kicked open the trapdoor and then looked back at Y/N.  He knew Jesper would come in and get her but Kaz wanted to be the one who got her.  He tossed his cane out the door and took a deep breath, focusing on getting Y/N to safety, and picked her up into his arms.  He carried her outside, laying her down in the grass nearby.  Once she was safe the thoughts of dead bodies and Jordie’s face roared into his mind and walked to the edge of the woods and vomited, holding himself against a tree.  When he was finished he turned back to see that Jesper was checking on her, his arm bleeding.

              “Are you hurt?” Kaz asked, walking back over to them. Jesper shrugged before standing next to him.

              “I’m fine, just a cut” he responded, tearing off his shirt sleeve and wrapping it around the cut, tying it with difficulty. “Can’t offer a hand?” he said to Kaz, smirking.  Kaz glared. “You saved her, carried her out here, you like her, you big softie.”  The look Kaz sent him wiped the smile off his face.  It was a long time before Jesper mustered the courage to speak again.  “Its alright you know, to have feelings about someone, you can still rip out hearts and then go home to someone.”

              “That’s enough Jesper, I don’t need a lecture from you about my feelings,” he snarled, hearing Y/N start to stir.  She blinked open her eyes and sat up quick, gripping her head. She looked around, then at the two men in front of her.

              “How did I get out of the carriage?” she asked. Before Kaz could stop him Jesper spoke.

              “Kaz carried you out,” he said, smiling big. Kaz’s blood was boiling at the betrayal. Y/N looked at Kaz silently.        

              “Thank you Kaz,” she said softly, standing with Jesper’s help.  Kaz nodded quietly, looking away.  He was going to have to admit sooner or later that Jesper was right, he did have feelings for her, but he would admit that later.  He still didn’t know what he could do in a relationship with someone anyway, who would want a broken bastard?  

              By this time Jesper had brought the horses over and even had found a spare saddle in the carriage storage bin.   Y/N dressed the horse, getting on ready to ride.  

              “Kaz take this one, I’ll ride with Jesper on the other,” she said, holding the reins.  Kaz wanted to argue but knew he couldn’t possibly ride a horse with someone else, not even Y/N, for the amount of time they needed.  The Permafrost was still over 2 days away, he would never survive. He climbed on the horse with difficulty, ignoring the help the others offered.  Once astride he slid his cane into his belt and heard a giggle.  He narrowed his eyes at Y/N and once again found that she wasn’t the least bit afraid of him.  He both admired and hated that about her.

              “You look like a general in those old school books, saber at the ready,” she said.  Kaz rolled his eyes and looked away before anyone could see the red that flared on his cheeks.  “But you’re much better looking than those guys.”  Kaz had expected a compliment, she seemed to like teasing him and then stroking his ego to win back his favor.  He hated that it worked.  He watched, a little annoyed, when she joined Jesper on the horse and they started riding north again.  

                Y/N could see that Kaz was struggling, not with his horse, but his emotions.  She had to admit, his feelings were probably harder to tame than a wild horse and she still didn’t know if it was worth it.  She realized that his jab about her secrets the night before had been out of anger. She wasn’t sure what he was angry about, but him carrying her out of the carriage proved that he cared about her in some way.  She would take that and work with it.  

              “You like him don’t you?” Jesper asked, him also noticing how Kaz couldn’t look at them for more than a moment before he looked away again, the jealousy clear on his face.  

              “Yes, I more than like him,” she answered. Jesper was easy to talk to, Kaz should send him out to gain secrets, with his laid back attitude and fun demeanor anyone would get loose lips with him.  He nodded and looked ahead again but she noticed the frown on his face.  “What has you upset?”

              “I…I miss Wylan,” he said softly.  It was almost like he was just admitting it to himself and she felt her heart break a little at the sad look on his face.  “Stupid merchling wormed his way into my heart and won’t let go.”  

              “I guess we both have men who are unreachable at the moment.  I’m sure we will find Wylan at the resistance camp, if he had the strength to deal with both you and Kaz I can only imagine how strong his will is.  I’m still debating on shooting you both,” she teased. Jesper let out a chuckle.

              “If you find you want to shoot Brekker you can use my guns,” he answered making her laugh this time.  

              “You two seem chummy,” Kaz called, riding to walk his horse closer to them.  He looked so put out by their interactions that Y/N almost laughed at him.

              “Don’t worry Kaz, I’m not trying to steal your new girl,” Jesper shot back.  If looks could rip someone apart the look Kaz gave him would have done that and more.  “You see Kaz here almost ended up with Inej…” A loud crack rang out and Jesper let out a strangle cry of pain.  Kaz had snapped his cane out, smacking it hard against Jesper’s knee.  

              “Don’t start talking like you know anything Jesper,” Kaz said, voice menacing.   Y/N looked at him.  This must be Dirtyhands, the supposed bad guy buried in Kaz, the one who liked to rip out eyes and maim men for saying the wrong thing.  She was impressed by his vicisousness but she didn’t want this aspect of Kaz to be out and about right now.

              “Kaz calm down, this is all in good fun,” she said. “I know you don’t know how to really have fun but I promise this conversation will never be shared with anyone, right Jesper?”

              “Right,” Jesper wheezed out, still trying to move his leg.  “Did you break my kneecap?”

              “Just disabled your lower leg for a minute, you’ll be fine.  God knows I don’t want to carry you if you break your leg,” Kaz responded.  He looked at Y/N and she smiled at him, wanting him to calm down.  She saw him take a deep breath and relax some.

              “So are you going to tell me about Inej?  I have heard the stories about her leading the refugees north, she sounds amazing,” Y/N said.  And she sounds infinitely better than me for Kaz she thought to herself.  Inej was supposed to be strong, a leader, someone that could gain secrets by knife or by charm, and apparently Kaz had once wanted her.   Y/N didn’t often let insecurity eat at her, she was Grisha who could do anything, why should she think less of herself?  But the idea that Kaz would desire her over Inef Ghafa seemed laughable.  

              “No one is going to talk about Inej anymore. What I felt for her wasn’t real,” he said, a pleading look in his eyes.  This whole conversation was making him squirm it seemed, too much talk of feelings and emotions that he didn’t want to visit.   Y/N nodded, feeling a little better that he seemed to be telling the truth.  Inej was a friend, a second in command, but it appeared that she was just that and nothing more.  Then again, Y/N was just a Grisha, someone to get them back to their crew and nothing more. Suddenly she didn’t feel any better.

              They rode on for another hour, the sun getting hot above them as they passed midday in silence.   Y/N was hoping they would get at least halfway to the Permafrost today but she felt her heart stop and her blood go cold as a voice called from behind them.

              “Little puppy, seems you found some new friends,” the Darkling said.  Jesper whipped the horse around and all three stared as the man approached alone, looking ready to kill.

#six of crows #kaz #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #kaz x reader #kaz brekker x reader #unexpected allies series #kazbrekker

[doorsclosingslowly]

They've Made of Our Bodies a Bleeding Stair

Jesper and Kaz try to retrieve Inej from Ketterdam without being recognized and murdered—and without Kaz getting ransomed back to Ravka as the the wayward Sun Summoner.

11k | Sun Summoner Kaz AU pt. 2 | Jesper/Kaz, Inej, past Kaz/Darkling content note: non-linear narrative, explicit sex, roleplay of past rape

“I want you to be him.”

“Of course,” Jesper replies. Then, articulately, once his brain’s caught up, “Uh. What?”

“The Darkling.” Kaz has turned his face away. He’s looking at the ramshackle marriage bed that takes up the bulk of this room he’s lured Jesper into. He unerringly picked the right closed door, too; he skipped the squeaky floorboards, as if he knew the exact layout of this—but it’s Kaz. He knows everything, even some dilapidated house in the Kerch countryside. The bed was probably a masterpiece of craftsmanship, when it was carved from some dark wood, a thousand years ago or whatever. The way it looks, it must’ve been old already when the previous owners of this farmhouse got it, and from the state of the house, they abandoned this place decades ago. Quite a lot of the furniture’s missing, either sold off when the place was left or stolen afterwards, but that bed was too worthless already.

The mattress is still there too. Probably fucking teeming with moth larvae and maggots and their combined accumulated shit, so it doesn’t bode too well for Jesper, how forcefully Kaz is staring at it.

“Please say it doesn’t involve the bed.”

“You said yes,” Kaz rasps, which is all the information Jesper needs to start gagging. Fake-gagging, for now, but if he sees even one wriggly little worm he’ll…

Bed. Darkling. That still doesn’t really… Want you to be him—oh—

“Yes, Jesper.” And how the hell with his ramrod tense back still turned towards Jesper—Jesper, who’s done nothing at all, hasn’t said anything except to register his displeasure at the idea of bathing in insect faeces and their squirming little manufacturers!—how the hell Kaz has realized that Jesper’s figured out what he probably means—it must be a confidence trick. Kaz likes those. But how—yeah, it’s not the point, but trying to understand whatever magic Kaz is using on him right now is much, much better for Jesper’s sanity than dwelling on the fact that Kaz might just have insinuated that he wants Jesper to pretend to be the Darkling, specifically the Darkling from that time he told Jesper about back in the Little Palace, the time he threw up after. The time he thought he could suppress his discomfort with touch long enough to seduce the Darkling into a partnership—seduce seduce, which means he wants—to flirt with Jesper? To sleep with Jesper? Is he actually saying he—

Oh. There’s a cracked mirror on the wall above the bed. That’s how Kaz saw his face.

Jesper would chalk the hallucination up to a hangover, but he’s not even drunk. Neither is Kaz, unless this old ruin of a farmhouse they broke into this morning is hiding barrels of wine the local youth haven’t made off with yet. Also, if he was hallucinating Kaz propositioning him he would—well, Jesper at least hopes he’d have enough self-respect not to make himself a stand-in for the man who bought and imprisoned Kaz for two years, controlled him by using his fears and modifying his body and cutting him off from every other person in the whole court, taking every single object he could have used to protect himself, and whatever those weird spines in Kaz’ chest are he’s probably responsible for them too. Jesper would not, actually, like the first and probably only time he’s allowed to kiss Kaz to be some kind of revenge-by-proxy thing where he recites the Darkling’s lines while Kaz swallows back bile, and then Kaz beats him up. Or murders him. It’s pathetic, but Jesper always imagined that kiss a little sweeter. Kissing over Haskell’s corpse. Kissing over the Darkling’s corpse. Kissing over the corpse of some other piece of shit who’s stupid enough to try using Kaz as their possession.

“Just warning you, I don’t have the costume or the script, so don’t expect something worthy of the Komedie Brute,” is what Jesper says instead.

Kaz’ eyebrow quirks. “You’re acted before, haven’t you? Improvised. You can flirt your way into anything. That was the main reason I kept you around.”

“You kept me around because I’m gorgeous, funny, and an incredible shot. I just play myself, if it’s seduction! Why would I improve upon perfection?”

“This isn’t seduction. He’s already locked me in the Little Palace for months at this point. Two escape attempts have failed. This is… speeding up the process,” Kaz says, nonchalantly enough it makes Jesper want to puke.

Which won’t help anything. He’s already agreed. And Kaz doesn’t care about moral objections, only practical ones. “I need more info. I haven’t actually met the Darkling.”

“You’ve met powerful men. You’ve met men who believe their righteous cause entitles them. You’ve met men mired in greed and vengeance—you’ve met me.”

“I like you.”

“Pretend you don’t, then. You used to complain about me in the Slat—of course I know, I knew everything that went on in the Dregs. You hated the way I seemed to know everything, and held it over you—so does he. You disliked my single-minded focus, the way you all seemed like pawns to me, my mockery. The way I held myself as something far superior to you. That’s a start.” Kaz limps a slow quarter circle around Jesper, and his dark eyes are burning with loathing. Jesper would hold him if he could. “You’re not asking why?”

“Uh, now that you mention—”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

Jesper sighs. Of course. He’s never expected anything else. Then he stands up straight, assuming his best the stick in my ass is so long it’s knocked the word fun from my brain pose that hopefully may pass for authoritative and slimes out, “What business, Mr Brekker?”

“Sun Summoner. Or Sunshine. He figured out Brekker’s a fake name on the first day.”

“Kaz Brekker’s a fake name?!” Jesper should have seen that coming, really… what does he even know about Kaz Brekker, truly? Except—

“It’s a name. It’s real enough. It’s feared. It’s mine.” Kaz’s eyes travel over the cobwebbed wall of the farmhouse bedroom, as if he was searching for the next lie to spin. Except that isn’t one of Kaz’ tells—Jesper’s seen him bamboozle and convince marks of the most stupid tales, and when Kaz wants them to believe him, he looks earnest. Young, depending on the role he plays, old, eager, stupid or wise. He doesn’t bother lying to Dregs, or rather: he doesn’t bother convincing them, usually. All his words are backed by the brutality of his cane. Who could be stupid enough to question even his weirdest utterances. “It just happens not to be one I was born with.”

“So what you’re saying is, the Darkling’s just not Kerch enough to get you?” Jesper grins. “Ketterdam, really—you know, I always really liked that about the Barrel, that healthy dose of ‘You are who you want and we don’t give a fuck to correct you.’ Anyway. Got it. You’re Kaz Brekker, but he’s a dick. Mr Sunbeam, what brings you into my office this evening?”

“The fete, Aleks.” Kaz shrugs off his coat, and then the purple kefta, too. He holds out the kefta in front of him, like he’s expecting Jesper to put it on. Well. That’s as good a start as any, and so Jesper turns and lets Kaz dress him into the robe he never wanted to wear.

“Then he says, ‘You must be nervous. After all, there are few gatherings in the Ketterdam slums that involve such spectacle.’” Kaz has sanded down his rasp somewhat, sounding almost smooth and seductive. He goes into a spiel of the Ravkan court and the inferiority of the Barrel that thankfully, he carries all by himself. Jesper wouldn’t even know what to say, except ‘Stop talking shit about the Barrel, you prick’ and that’s not exactly in character.

Kaz’ eyes periodically dart down to Jesper’s hands, and he realizes he’s fidgeting with the hem of the kefta’s sleeves. He stops.

“I am ready,” Kas says in his normal voice. His normal talking to a mark voice. “I realized what this demonstration represents—that I belong to something greater. It is as you said—we can offer Grisha and Ravkans hope. We. Together.” He stands up straight. Equally on both his legs. He winces. He’s not holding his cane, Jesper realizes. He’s not wearing his gloves. “I am ready to stand by your side. We should be partners. The Sun and the Dark.”

“Uh… great. We’ll be great together. Do great things. Better partners than enemies. Some of those rumours even freaked me out, you know—that kid with the wind-up toy in his throat—”

“Think before you speak, Jesper,” Kaz hisses. “Never let me lead. Never give me control. Every word is a cue to corral your prey where you want it—whether a compliment or a barely-there hidden threat.”

“Is that what you do?”

“Sometimes.” Kaz meets Jesper’s eyes. The tense mask of his face breaks into a smirk. “To be honest, I find the subtle craft of manipulation is wasted on you. You’ll obey anyway. Let’s go back to the start, and focus.”

Jesper shrugs off the kefta again and then lets Kaz dress him, again. He does his best imitation of Kaz, of that early Kaz before Jesper learned how he takes his coffee and before he saw the brutal twist of his face, that one time when the Dime Lions had Jesper on his knees and shoved a gun in his mouth. He plays the imperious tactician in his office who told his goons to drag Jesper up four flights of stairs with a bag over his head, ready to be shot for his debts, and then sold him on the one thing that gave his life meaning.

He insults Dirtyhands’ father and mother to his face, and gets really into it, too: Ketterdam’s full of idiots who’d miss the love of their life because they were busy trying to pry cobblestones off the streets to sell for half a sausage, and the harbour’s so filthy even the fish won’t fuck in it—keeping the brothels in good fish-ness, haha. Because the fish rent rooms so they don’t get fishy sex diseases from the water. Do fish get diseases from sex?

“Kill me now,” Kaz moans, and that one’s probably deserved.

“Anyway, my Sun Summoner, I’m sure you’ll perform well,” Jesper says with just the tiniest hint of slime.

“I am ready. I realized what this demonstration represents—that I belong to something greater. It is as you said—we can offer Grisha and Ravkans hope. We. Together.”

Jesper moves slowly, idly: not caging him in against the bed yet but definitely implying he can and will.

“I am ready to stand by your side. We should be partners. The Sun and the Dark.” Kaz swallows. “‘That means a lot to me. You mean a lot,’ is what you say now.”

How come the Darkling’s not constantly slipping on his own slimy slime trail?

“That means a lot to me.” Jesper gives Kaz a deep, smouldering look. The pockmarks on his cheeks. The jumping muscle in his jaw. The hint of a pained grimace from standing unaided. The boyish grin when he’s totally fucked over another gang boss and gets to gloat. The vicious hatred when someone touches his Crows. Licking powdered sugar off his gloves. “You mean a lot.”

And that’s it. The way Kaz looks at him—this is when the Darkling makes his move.

“I have been waiting for you for so long,” Jesper purrs smarmily, closing his eyes, moving in for the kiss, and—Kaz isn’t there anymore.

It was a single step backwards, because Kaz has hit the edge of the bed already, face blotched with humiliation, and the way he looks at Jesper is—angry is the least terrible interpretation. If he backs out now, Kaz is going to kill him for pitying him or catering to a weakness that honestly—how is not wanting this weak? But Kaz is Kaz, and Jesper’s just Jesper, and—

“Focus,” Kaz hisses. “You own Ravka. You will own the Sun, too. You have waited for this triumph—take it.”

“Why don’t we take this to the—” fuck you, Brekker, for making me say this— “bed, then? Take off your clothes. Don’t be scared.”

That’s a good dig. The kind of insult that looks super caring, unless you know Kaz enough to understand he sees any crack in his image as a dangerous failure. Jesper’s getting the hang of this malicious flirting thing, finally. When this is over, he’ll need to scrub the slime off himself twice.

Kaz looks at Jesper while he disrobes. At him, Jesper hopes against hope, at the real person he’s roped into his worst scheme yet with a goal that’s still totally obscure; at Jesper and not the asshole he’s imagining in his place. Kaz’ eyes trace his cheeks, dance over his shaved head, catch on the lips.

Jesper takes off his boots and gun belt, and the kefta. He undoes the fly of his trousers, pulls his dick out, and stops. He glares at Kaz, daring him to object to the attempt at making this slightly less miserable—Jesper’s the Darkling, he’s in charge, so Kaz can fuck off with his masochism. He’s done undressing. He’s not taking off his shirt or trousers. That layer of cloth stays on.

But Kaz doesn’t object. He stands up straight, naked, brittle, wincing, and then glancing away he mutters, “Ignore the antlers. He hadn’t done that yet.”

Fucking Darkling.

The antlers stick out of Kaz’ collarbones, uneven tines of—possession, mutilation, and Jesper’s eyes catch on a tiny set of grooves on the left one. The scabbed-over cuts underneath. The bruise from the gunshot. And even despite that horror, Kaz has a nice chest. Serious muscle, a street map of scars and a smattering of dark hairs—it feels weirdly improper to stare at him, so Jesper’s eyes dance down to his knobbly left knee and the softly twisted right thigh with its knots of scars, up to the face where he’s biting his harsh pretty mouth, and down again. His dick is nice, fat but not too long, rooted in a tangle of dark curls.

It’s utterly limp.

It’s pathetic, how much that hurts. Of course he isn’t into this. Of course he doesn’t find Jesper remotely attractive. Of course this is just some weird masochistic proxy powerplay for him, some attempt to prove he’s stronger now and can bear it or whatever the fuck, and Jesper’s just the sad stupid body he’s using to enact it.

And of course not even that is enough to make Jesper bow out. Kaz asked.

“Do you want me to suck you off first? Get you in the mood, even a little?” It’s not just for Kaz, that offer, though the whole thing will probably be less painful and awkward if he manages to coax out some arousal. It’s not for younger Jesper, who fantasized about being ordered to blow his boss as penance more often than he likes to admit. No, this is so Jesper can bury his face in Kaz’ pubic hair for a minute. And cry.

Kaz raises an eyebrow. He sounds arch and ice cold when he asks, “Jesper, do you think the Darkling would suck my dick?”

“He should have. Saints, what an asshole,” Jesper shoots back before he can think. “You need a better class of lovers.”

“By which you’re of course implying that you are much better than Aleksander Morozova, the General Kirigan, the Black Heretic, eternal Conqueror and crowned Emperor of Greater Ravka, Salvation to Grishadom, Master of the Fold and He who chained the Sun, et cetera and so fucking on and so fucking forth the Darkling himself?”

“Given I just offered you a blowjob without bringing useless power shit into it, yes.”

“Wrong data, incoherent formula. Correct answer.” Kaz’ grin is crooked. Inordinately fond, and Jesper would have settled for no longer desperately hiding terror but this is—

Yeah.

“I’m going to try to make this roleplay as realistic as I can, but I don’t know if I can forget enough about how to have sex to sink to the Darkling’s level. Also, you don’t happen to have the address of that Grisha Tailor who mutilated you back there? I need them to make my dick look weird. Corkscrew, maybe. Some warts. It’s probably green. I’d peg him for advanced neurological syphilis but I am about to sleep with you, so— ”

“Did you know, Jesper, that the Darkling always wears a gag when he has sex?”

“Shutting up now, boss.”

“Don’t shut up,” Kaz replies instantly. Very, very instantly. “Just keep your disparagements somewhat plausible. And… rare.”

Only to jolt me back, he’s asking. “Got it. So I guess I’m supposed to loom over you a little? How close do you want me?”

“I’ll need to—” Kaz turns around and bends over to root around in the pockets of his coat, and it’s even weirder, worse, looking at his ass when Jesper knows Kaz doesn’t like him back. Kaz tosses over a tiny bottle. Oil. “Give that to me. Tell me to prepare myself.”

“Just saying it once more, boss. You don’t have to go through with—”

“Stop thinking about the Kaz Brekker you know,” Kaz hisses. “Stop anticipating my reactions. Stop caring. You are the Darkling. You have been waiting for the Sun Summoner for decades. You’ve formed your picture of them. This delinquent flinching little rat you bought doesn’t quite fit, not his limp, not his fear of touch, not his pathetic need to assert himself, but, well… you have time. He’ll learn how to make himself fit into the space you provide him. He’ll become your Sun Summoner.”

“Have I told you yet that I’m going to kill that piece of shit?”

“You’ve mentioned it, once or twice. In the last hour.”

Jesper bares his teeth: a grin, but not. A promise. “Good. I’ll hold his mouth open while you stuff him full of black powder and set him on fire.”

“Stop stalling, Jesper. That won’t make it any easier.”

That won’t make it not have happened.

“If you’re sure this will help.”

Kaz nods.

“Lie down on the bed, then. Is there a—no, no pillows here, roll up the coat and slide it under your hips.” Jesper turns his face away, listening to the timid, stuttering squelches of Kaz stretching his asshole. Jesper doesn’t know what would be worse: if, after everything, he can’t get it up… or if he can.

Well. He’ll have to. His dick will just have to obey the dictates of the situation, just as Kaz’ body was made into the Sun Summoner. He’s young. He’s still looking at Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, naked, who asked Jesper to sleep with him, and that’ll have to be enough. They’ve gotten this far. They’ll force their way through. That’s how you do it. That’s how you gamble. How you lose big. Kaz might have once tried to explain to him something about sunk costs and throwing good money after bad, but Jesper ignored him that night and lost a hundred and twenty kruge to Specht, and he’s never looked back.

“Okay, Mr Sunshine. Let’s consummate our fucking partnership,” he grinds out when Kaz has gone quiet, takes the bottle to slick up his own uncooperative dick, and carefully, he climbs on top of Kaz. The clothes were a good decision: Kaz barely flinches when he kneels in-between his legs and pulls the sleeve over his hand to carefully guide his right knee to rest on Jesper’s thigh.

Kaz is staring up at his face, breathing, just breathing. The antlers in his collarbone frame his bright face—brighter than the candles should allow, like maybe—and his focus is rigid and he’s breathing, breathing quickly—

“Is this teaching you anything yet?”

“Not really,” Kaz rasps, after too long. “Or—I think—maybe it was—” he glances at Jesper’s pathetic, unhappy limp dick. His face twists. “I thought you were into me.”

This is— “I love you. Kaz Brekker, whoever you are. I don’t give a fuck about this Sun Summoner bullshit. I love you. I love you,” because this is—Jesper can’t do this. He can’t. His elbows are locked: he can’t drop his body any lower. He can't go lower than this. “I love you,” until it’s finally over. “I love you. I love you.”

☼

“And I’m telling you again, I don’t know what he does Tuesday evenings,” Jesper hisses.

“You were still with the Dregs, three months ago!” Kaz is wiping his cane clean. It didn’t even really get dirty—they mostly used kitchen knives to do the deed, and in the case of a maidservant who unwisely came to work in the middle of the night, a bullet that Jesper’s already collected and reshaped into something functional, because he might not get to buy new ones. Desperation. Frugality. The Kerch are rubbing off on him. It’s good, though. The fact he’s cleaning the wood is all the confirmation Jesper will likely ever get that Kaz does like the new cane Jesper made him from a cute straight rowan sapling, reinforced with the metal scavenged from all but the most essential buttons on their hodgepodge of clothes. At least there’s one thing of Jesper’s he values. “How can you not know the behavioural patterns of your boss? Are you that brainless?”

“No-one knew what he was up to! He barely came by the Slat. He wasn’t that interested in us.”

“You worked for Per Haskell, Jesper; you worked for that man for years—for nearly as many as I did, when you ran off to Ravka—and now you attempt to convince me you barely know his name?” Kaz still doesn’t look quite as harsh as he used to, or maybe that’s just Jesper hankering for their past. Well, he didn’t used to explain his plans to Jesper as if he was an imbecile—but then, he didn’t used to need Jesper. He had more stooges back then. Now, he only has one. Ally. Friend.

If it’s as weird for him, though, as it is for Jesper being back in Ketterdam after he didn’t die on his revenge suicide plot and the city didn’t, either—well, he might still get murdered for stealing the Sun Summoner or skipping out on debts or something completely unrelated, and Ketterdam’s… well, she’s weathering having her ruling class torn apart twice in short order, once by the Darkling’s conquest and now, by the slow collapse of the Darkling’s overstretched realm after he’s lost his saint/weapon/doll.

The Barrel’s fine—as glary and miserable as it ever was, anyway, but though Kaz would probably insist most of the Mercher’s Council had their hands in gang business one way or the other, their reach was indirect, mediated and secretive enough for the chaos tearing up the Geldstraat not to trickle down as quickly into the slums. And anyway, the involvement of the merchers only ever made life worse for most people. The plight of the rich can only be a blessing.

Right now, they’re inside a nice place in the Zelver district. Close enough to power to feel the death throes, and even disregarding the political manoeuvring and debris and panic everywhere, just looking at the house from the outside made Kaz twitchy, somehow.

His energy almost matched Jesper’s trigger finger.

It’s Haskell’s house, so that unease makes sense.

Haskell’s expensive secret new house far outside the Barrel that they’re despoiling now. They looked as out of place in the beautiful Zelver district as any Barrel rats, with their heads shorn close to the bone so they’ll look different enough to not get recognized and faces wiped with dirt, dressed in a melange of Ravkan clothes they haven’t found a chance to replace yet and tawdry Barrel flash for everything else.

Kaz was wearing two coats when he entered the house, an old rose and amber paisley trench that even Jesper admitted is hideous, though now it’s splattered with blood that actually really ties the colour scheme together. Still gross though, and luckily slung over the chair. Along with the purple kefta Kaz hid underneath, the one he still hasn’t given back. Or burned, which is what they did to the other Ravkan overcoats. On the streets his two coats bulked up his frame so much he looked like a kid that Jesper’s never met, dressed up to play a gangster’s role. He looked nothing like the Sun Summoner anymore, and only somewhat like Jesper’s imagined baby Dirtyhands crawling out straight from the harbour, fifty kilos sopping wet and ready to kill a man and feast on his entrails.

Now, he’s stripped down to a ruffled red shirt over a green undershirt—he conspicuously shunned the yellow one next to it on the washing line—and light blue pinstripe trousers. The shirt is a little large in the shoulders, and he’s cuffed the trousers. They stole everything from a cottage on the edge of Ketterdam. Not quite Barrel flash, but almost—alike in style but with better fabric, something a town edge kid probably bought to look like a cool gangster. Or something Jesper would have bought to look special for a very special date. If he squints, he can almost imagine—it’s the morning after, and—

Ever since the Little Palace the idea of Kaz naked has totally lost its lustre. The idea of his muscular but scrawny, scarred chest, his wiry tattooed arms, his ambiguously demonic hands—it’s all overlaid now with a flimsy ugly sleeveless yellow paper taffeta gown. With normal hands, kept bare as humiliation.

But maybe—maybe they sat together, not on a log in a forest but on a sofa this time, and then in the morning Kaz was cold and he stole all of Jesper’s clothes to wear over his own. That’s much better. (Maybe he just wanted Jesper naked all day…)

Jesper won’t let the Darkling steal his fantasies, too. They’re—

Ouch. Fucking ouch.

Jesper really shouldn’t have added tiny spiky worms to the side of the cane, but Kaz’ indignation was just too funny.

“Let me make this clear—” Kaz rasps, once he’s regained Jesper’s full attention. Half-full. ‘Like he’s plundered Jesper’s wardrobe’ is still such a good look on him. “We are both hunted. Neither of us can afford to be caught outside on the streets of Ketterdam and let whoever saw us live. If we’re going to make Haskell’s house our temporary base of operations, we need to make his death as inconspicuous as possible. We cannot safely anticipate which of his visitors to eliminate and which to fool unless we know whether they, in turn, may be missed.”

“Well,” Jesper mutters. “Mitki might come by. If the neighbours don’t chase him off.”

Kaz raises a single, dirt-encrusted eyebrow.

“Mitki’s the newest lieutenant. Might have made it this—”

“Not Anika? I can understand why a flake like you didn’t rise in the Dregs ranks, but she—”

“Ambush. Dime Lions, five weeks after you disappeared.”

“Rotty?”

“Slit throat. Still no clue who did it.”

“Specht? Pim? Neeta? Big Bol?”

“Razorgulls, knife, last year. Bullet to the head, same day. Hellgate. Hellgate.”

“Muzzen? Ruk? Keeg?”

“Another ‘Gull stabbing, just before I left. Hellgate, again. Keeg just disappeared, though. Might still be alive somewhere over the True Sea, if he’s clever. Not that he was, he’s probably floating, poor sod.” Jesper shrugs. After a while, it just gets too much: the beginning of the Dregs’ end is seared into his brain, but there aren’t enough synapses for the tenth—or fiftieth—dead friend to hurt as much. “There’s a reason why I didn’t think twice about running when I lost those fifty thousand. Like I said, boss, it’s been a shitshow since you left. Haskell never wanted for new ones, since he got his kids fresh off the street, but he just stopped giving any shit whatsoever, and since you weren’t there to pick up the slack… well, I can see why he didn’t care, now.”

Jesper spares a bitter look for the mountain of kruge next to Haskell’s foot, the mountain he offered Kaz as soon as he saw him, long before Kaz even tried to hack off both his hands and feet with a dull meat cleaver. Long before Kaz had to settle for cutting down to the bone and then wrenching Haskell’s extremities from their sockets by sheer force of hatred, while Jesper puked into the kitchen sink. The mountain he’d never have amassed as the boss of a gang as shambolic as the last years of the Dregs.

The mountain that’s going to pay off Inej’s indenture tomorrow.

Haskell allowed her to rot there. It’s only fair he pays for her freedom with his life.

“Everyone we could use is gone. And you…” Kaz tips Jesper’s chin up with his cane. The world shimmies a little. “You, of all the old Dregs, survived.”

Jesper shrugs again. This is too much to confess to Kaz, of all cruel bastards, probably far too much, but—they’re sitting in the living room of Jesper’s former boss, the man who sold Kaz out to the Darkling and used the prize money to live in luxury, while letting his gang die on increasingly pointless ill-planned errands. The other end of the table is still flecked and puddled with slow-drying blood—not to mention the corpse, or corpse-pieces, laying there—but over here, they have a bottle of expensive whisky they found in a cabinet and they’re trading swigs from the bottle, all bitter and clean.

“I didn’t take it too well, when you and Inej just disappeared, and then my friends kept dying. Might have gone on a couple of benders. Might have lost some games. Might have lost some fights. Might have had some sexual encounters with people who turned out to be massive creeps. Consequently, I may not have been technically around to be asked to go on some of these errands, or perhaps I just didn’t notice because I was drunk.”

“Jesper.” Kaz doesn’t even sound surprised. Wow. Thanks for having faith in me, boss.

It’s not really that humiliating, though, now he’s said it out loud. He spent two years making bad decisions and occasionally braiding Inej’s hair. Kaz spent that time getting turned into a doll. Who can say what’s worse? He takes another deep gulp and grins. “You know me, boss. I need some external structure in life. I really need a commandeering asshole dragging me into his schemes to be my best self.”

“And yet, you outwitted the Darkling.”

“That wasn’t difficult, to be fair. Tell them I’m Grisha, search the Little Palace, shoot Kaz Brekker in the head, get executed…” Jesper trails off. When the silence grows teeth, he takes a pull of whisky that’s so desperate it makes him cough, but Kaz is still letting him stew.

They don’t really need to talk about it, though. No value in going over what happened in the Little Palace. No value in discussing anything. Everything is fine now. Yes, Jesper did want to kill Kaz. Yes, he’ll die for Kaz.

And they both know why.

Kaz steals the bottle. It’s incredible, actually, Jesper was just holding it—well, maybe he’s a little more drunk than he thought, but Kaz would probably like being complimented on his pickpocketing. “I didn’t even see you steal that bottle,” Jesper says.

“I’d be angry you’re drunk,” Kaz rasps. “But you’ve been completely useless at all stages of the current plan so far. And the previous one, by your planning—I always forget, in my amazement at what you accomplished, that you failed.”

He says that, but his cheeks are flushed pink with alcohol. His pupils are wide when he looks at Jesper. He raises the bottle to his lips and tips his head back, swallowing what should have easily been ten more swigs of whisky. Thieving bastard.

☼

When Jesper awakes on Haskell’s second softest chaise longue in the receiving room—neither of them was particularly eager to climb into Haskell’s bed, and, in Jesper’s case, not particularly still able to walk up the stairs either—his mouth is dry, his bladder full and the light is poking his brain even through closed curtains and eyelids. And Kaz—he searches the whole house after finishing his business, but yes, it’s true—Kaz is gone.

So are his cane and his current Barrel flash coat and the kefta, which means Kaz is probably safe. Well. As safe as the escaped Sun Summoner can be. Not kidnapped, at least. More alive than anyone stupid enough to cross Kaz’ path.

He’s taken Haskell’s kruge, and left a note.

In Kaz’ sharp hand, the note reads, “STAY.”

It’s underlined three times, and on the back side Kaz has written, “or you will die,” which to be fair is pretty ambiguous.

‘Die’ as in, ‘I mistrust your competence and assume you’ll get yourself killed if you move a finger?’ Or as in, ‘I’m warning you I won’t go out of my way to save you?’ Perhaps it’s a straightforward ‘Disobey and I am going to personally murder you and piss on your corpse?’ All are very real possibilities, knowing Kaz.

To really understand the message, Jesper needs to get into Kaz’ mood when he woke up—hungover, but how much? Enough he hates the entire world, or so much he hates Jesper more? Also, his current way of thinking. Jesper’s usefulness. A point in favour is the fact that Jesper saved him from a fate worse than death, but on the other hand, Jesper forgot to extract a deal from him and Kaz is so Kerch it hurts, which means he’s pared down solidarity and reciprocity and love into exchange, into deals, and all Jesper’s offering are the first three. They shared a bottle of whisky next to the corpse of their old boss, though, and in general Kaz looked like he was having fun more than once on their dirty, miserable long trek out of Ravka. Way more fun than he had in the majestic Little Palace. Also, Jesper’s incredibly likeable. He’s beautiful and funny and stupidly in love with Kaz without asking anything in return, so really it only makes sense that Kaz has finally succumbed to his charm.

(He dug his hand into Jesper’s hair, that night on the fallen tree and twice afterwards, but—maybe that was only to make Jesper squirm.)

Well, he enjoyed Jesper’s company while they fled from Ravka to Ketterdam, at least. That’s the crux of it.

So why would Kaz anticipate that Jesper might want to run anywhere? There’s a well-stocked kitchen here. A far more sensible assumption would be that Jesper might want to make some waffles or go on a morning jog. No, not that one. Enjoy a lavish breakfast. Have a bath, perhaps, after spending two weeks crawling through the Ravkan forest and the Shu countryside and stowed in the belly of a wine cargo ship and then countryside again, this time Kerch. Jesper’s feet hurt just thinking about it, and that Kaz managed to get here, even at the half-speed they settled on, speaks to—well, the same bull-headed masochism as always, but the fact he still refused to even consider stealing a cart or horse or approach any larger settlement before Ketterdam means he must be even more terrified of the Darkling than Jesper can imagine. He refused to leave any trace whatsoever. (And yet he’s back in Ketterdam, the one city in the world he was connected to before the Little Palace, because…?)

Ketterdam is the only city, village, collection of buildings and people they’ve been to for weeks, which means it’s the first chance Jesper has to gamble, but—even he knows not to stake anything on the possibility there’s someone left in the Barrel who doesn’t know about Jesper Fahey, he who owes Pekka Rollins fifty thousand kruge and just skipped town, kill immediately with extreme prejudice.

Well, Rollins is dead now—the only gang boss courageous or aggrieved or hungry enough to try and covertly resist the Darkling, go figure—but whoever’s head Lion now probably won’t even let Jesper try to spin an argument about how he really owes that money to ‘Pekka Rollins’ Dime Lions’, not any successor organizations. No such luck, and anyway, people stupid enough to bounce on their debts are fair game to any gang in the Barrel. They don’t cooperate on much, not even for mutual benefit, but murdering dishonest gamblers? That’s a team sport.

Jesper’s last recklessly suicidal plan worked out fantastic, so maybe he should find a card table. His luck’s turned. He could win millions.

Which Kaz definitely would anticipate, and warn him away from. Kaz is a buzzkill. Just because Jesper’s going to get murdered on sight in the Barrel…

Because Jesper’s gonna get murdered on sight in the Barrel.

If Kaz wants to rebuild his status in the Barrel, there’s no bigger liability than Jesper. And Kaz wants to, surely. He worked his way up inside the Dregs carefully and diligently, spent more time than anyone sane would inside a tiny attic office adding up numbers, and sucked up to an utter piece of shit like Haskell, just so he could one day become a Barrel boss. And now, to rise again, he has to cut off the dead weight.

Which means Jesper.

That’s why he left.

It’s not even a betrayal. They don’t have an agreement for life after reaching Ketterdam, let alone one that says Jesper can follow him forever and ever just like in the good old days. Inej—but Inej’s actually useful to a new Barrel boss, as soon as her indenture’s paid. Jesper’s the weak link here. Jesper’s screwed.

Which doesn’t mean he won’t go down fighting. He knows the way to the Menagerie—the quickest way, the scenic route, the paths least commonly trafficked by Pigeons and the ones usually avoided by staadwatch or gangsters. He knows Kaz well enough to guess which one he’s taken. If he hasn’t woken too late—and by the sun’s position, it’s still early in the morning—then he has a chance to pass Kaz off and… insult him? Beg? Cry? Sell his father’s soul for a position in the new Dregs? Maybe he’ll just have to wear a Komedie Brute mask for the rest of his life and it’ll be fine. He’ll figure it out later.

Jesper draws his shoulders up to his ears while he scurries through empty alleyways, the collar of his fancy pseudo-Barrel flash coat turned up. He’s almost glad that Kaz made him go hatless and shaved bald—thoroughly unstylish and un-Jesper enough he might survive the morning—but there are drawbacks to the disguise in the damp chill.

Also, the disguise isn’t good enough. After some minutes, Jesper notices that some clusters of metal stay at roughly the same distance to him. Eight clusters of—round, small, definitely mostly kruge with a few Ravkan coins thrown in. Thirteen guns. A rifle. Two of the coin clusters are fairly close together and move in unison. Jesper’s dealing with seven shadows, then.

That’s—a lot.

Jesper’s had a little more training being a Durast now, but what he could really use now is combat training. He hasn’t even been in a battle in over a month, unless you count handing Kaz knives while he carves up Per Haskell, and since Jesper had to puke right after, you probably shouldn’t. He’s fought rabbits. Jesper’s sure fought some rabbits in Ravka. Two deer, too.

He could probably escape his pursuers. It would take time, though, time Jesper doesn’t have when Kaz is leaving him behind without a word. He’ll just have to kill them quickly.

At least there’s one of his favourite surveillance detection routes nearby. One of the rare aboveground tunnels in Ketterdam, not used by Pigeons for obvious reasons of creepiness and also because it just leads to a big courtyard behind a factory: a courtyard that’s easy to escape, when you know the gate’s lock is broken. Kaz showed it to him, just weeks after Jesper got recruited, after the second time the ‘Gulls got the drop on him and beat him to a pulp. In the courtyard, he made Jesper shoot some sparrows and some pigeons to prove his worth. Not crows, though, and for a year Jesper believed that detail was just thrown in to test whether Jesper would obey nonsensical orders. It’s still a plausible explanation.

He’ll just have to ask Kaz, after he begs him for a role in the new Dregs. After he kills these seven pursuers.

If.

He catches the first man off-guard and blows his head off when he exits the tunnel, but after that, it’s a stand-off. Jesper, hiding behind a massive wood barrel for cover, against six men ducked into the mouth of the tunnel.

Jesper manages to pick off another man by firing into the tunnel and blindly redirecting the bullet into the first nook, but the second attempt at using that trick doesn’t hit anything, and neither does the third. He has eight bullets left now, and five enemies. Even Jesper can tell that’s bad odds.

Retreating across the courtyard, though—the first few meters are fine, there are enough wine barrels and he can just dash from one to another, slightly nudging bullets off their course so none hit him.

Those guys have far too many bullets left, though, by the time Jesper’s forty meters away from the gate. Forty meters without cover. His pursuers aren’t bad shots either—likely Dime Lions, because there’s no way a Liddy would ever get so close that Jesper has to redirect their bullet—and they’re cautious enough that only two of them are crouched behind that barrel next to the tunnel, now, while the rest are still hidden inside.

This might get a little tough—but if Jesper starts manipulating bullets more obviously, will that information travel to the Little Palace? They know the Sun Summoner escaped with a Fabrikator. Is he painting a target on Kaz’ back?

Is he—

Bloodcurdling screams and groans, and Jesper’s too far away to hear any thwacks but his senses have expanded and he knows that metal coating intimately. Knows that cane.

Kaz emerges from the tunnel opening, Inej behind him, and—

Boom.

The Dime Lion’s shot him.

Right in the chest, and Kaz stumbles, falls to his knees.

Keels over.

Jesper shoots wildly while he runs over, whirling the bullets around the barrel that the Dime Lions are hiding behind—two left, Kaz wouldn’t have let any of the ones in the tunnel escape—desperate to hit something or at least keep them distracted and scared long enough to get there, or for—Inej’s pulling Kaz back by his coat, and she’s still wearing a sheer Menagerie dress, she probably doesn’t have any knives to protect—nothing’s hit yet, nothing’s hit, and all Jesper’s bullets are in the air whizzing around but he’s not hitting anything and Kaz is down and Kaz—

Kaz pushes himself to his knees, and then he stands up.

He’s breathing hard, and in the ugly rose/amber/bloodstain trench there’s a hole above his heart, sooty and burnt, but he’s still alive, Kaz is alive, he’s—

“What are you?” a Dime Lion gasps. Jesper’s finally got a bead on her. He sinks three bullets into her head.

“I just killed…” The other one is less lucky, and Jesper only manages to hit his stomach before he runs out of airborne bullets. He’ll die, but it won’t be quick.

“I crawled out of the harbour before. I’ll do it again,” Kaz rasps, and before the Dime Lion manages more than “Dirty—” a wet squelch informs Jesper of his demise.

That’s all of them.

“Kaz, you—” Inej’s much quicker at Kaz’ side, but he moves away before she can touch him to check his injury. Moves quickly enough he’s probably not on death’s door. He is a good actor, though. She looks at Jesper, and he’s about to join her in begging Kaz to get some medical aid, at least, but then Kaz shrugs off the ruined trench coat.

“Those kefta aren’t entirely useless,” Kaz rasps, grinning like an amused fucking asshole who almost gave Jesper a heart attack.

And then, Inej wraps herself around Jesper.

“You’re alive! I was terrified,” she shouts against his chest, slapping his back and grabbing as if she can’t decide whether to kill Jesper or never let go. “I thought you got yourself killed! You just disappeared, no word, I thought—”

“I may have lost a game where the stake was fifty thousand kruge?”

“You—Jes—” Inej squeezes him harder. “I told you to stop. I’d rather have you, with me, than have you die trying to pay me off.”

“I almost won! But there was no chance I’d get out of it, without indenturing myself, and—it all worked out, didn’t it? You’re free! Which reminds me…” Jesper takes off his own coat—blue and green and purple wave patterns, very fancy, a bit on the small side for him—and lays it onto Inej’s shoulders. It suits her, too—it drowns her a little, sure, but the way the coat reaches down to her ankles looks regal, and anyway, Kaz is a good sewer. He’ll fix this. “Can’t have you catching a cold.”

Before she can reply—tell him again she wasn’t worth risking his life and freedom in every card game he could for two years, when she definitely is, she’s Inej, he’ll do anything for her—he runs away and searches the dead Dime Lions for a new coat for himself, all their money, the rifle, and picks up the used bullets too. Knowing Kaz, he’ll want them to leave this place soon, and Jesper can’t very well try to convince his boss he needs to keep his sharpshooter around when he has no bullets left.

Speaking of—Jesper saunters over to Kaz when he’s done. With his most careless grin, he says, “I want my goodbye kiss before you ditch me.”

“I left you a note,” Kaz rasps. “I should have remembered you can’t read.”

Which as good as counts as a promise that Kaz didn’t intend to leave him behind: that, and the adrenaline of an easy gunfight has Jesper grinning widely. This is the life he wanted. The life he yearned for during the last two miserable years. The Crows are back, baby. He asks, “What now, boss?”

“We leave. Before anyone comes to investigate those gunshots.”

“Novyi Zem?”

“No,” Kaz rasps, just as Inej says, “They’ll let us drown.”

“They what?”

“Move.” Kaz starts limping past the factory, and then doubles back one street over—in the general direction away from the sea. Jesper and Inej quickly flank him. “I went to the Fifth Harbour before I paid off Inej’s indenture. It’s near empty. Old man there said no boats go to Novyi Zem or Eames Chin right now, and no boats come back. Because nothing gets unloaded. Kerch ships can’t dock there. They all get stranded at sea.”

“People started running when Ravka cut us off from the continent,” Inej mutters. “Before the invasion. And now the Darkling’s gone, the Kerch Grisha are either running or dead.”

“Too many refugees, apparently. Something about culture and scroungers and economic migrants. Novya Zem’s closed its ports to Kerch.”

“But I’m Zemeni—”

“You’re just a person. Those borders don’t exist to help you. The harbour watch don’t exist for you, the government doesn’t exist for you—if there’s a choice between cementing their power and your life, every bureaucrat worth their salt will choose the former.”

Jesper wants to argue, but actually, he’d trust Kaz over Novyi Zem a million times. Kaz saved his life when Ketterdam and Kerch would have swallowed him whole. Novyi Zem isn’t any different. “So we’re stuck in Ketterdam, then, where I’ll get shot on sight and you’ll easily get tracked by the Darkling. I only remember one safehouse that’s still uncompromised, as of last month anyway, unless you think we should go back to Haskell’s, boss?”

“Inej,” Kaz rasps. “That shop over there. Buy us a cart. We’re going to Lij.”

“What’s in Lij, boss? Why Lij? Where is Lij, anyway?”

But Kaz doesn’t answer him. Even aboard the cart, directing their new donkey with a seemingly perfect grasp of the roads leading to a small southern Kerch town none of them have ever been to, he refuses to elaborate. He looks tense, though. Jesper reshapes his many new bullets while he walks alongside. If there’s a fight waiting for them in Lij, they’re going to win.

☼

Kaz paces the length of the room. Window, door, window, door—there’s not much space beside the marriage bed, and the air draft of his passing caresses Jesper’s shorn head.

He’s put back together now, dressed in his socks and his boots and his underpants and his trousers and his gloves, though his torso’s only covered by the open purple kefta. Despite the cane, he limps more heavily than before he trekked for weeks through the Ravkan forest. He’s not fully recovered yet, if he’ll ever be.

Jesper’s on the floor. He climbed off the bed—off Kaz, after he ruined Kaz’ stupid get proxy-raped by the proxy-Darkling again plan. He said what he said, and the silence that followed was all the answer he’ll get, and then he sat down on the floor. It’s as good a place to wait as any. Probably more hygienic than the bed, anyway. He watched Kaz dress, until he almost looked like the Barrel lieutenant they both wish he was still allowed to be, and now he’s watching Kaz Brekker Dirtyhands the Sun Summoner pace holes in the old dusty floor of an abandoned farmhouse an hour’s walk outside of the small Kerch town of Lij.

He’s not getting murdered, though. Not for what he almost did. Not for what he said. That’s as good as this was ever going to go.

“It was worse this time.” Kaz directs his rasp towards the floor. He doesn’t stop moving. “I froze. Why was it—it was you. I knew you were—you’d never—with you it should have been more tolerable. Not worse.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, boss.” Jesper still can’t decide whether he should be ashamed that he was too squeamish to go through with it. Kaz doesn’t seem as angry as he could be, that Jesper totally fucked up this whatever-it-was-supposed-to-be. Not the mocking disappointment he doles out at Jesper’s predictable failures—gambling, distractibility, lateness, no impulse control and so on—and not the seething hatred when Jesper does something he hasn’t anticipated.

“I turned it over and over in my mind. For a year. What I did wrong. How I could have turned this to my advantage. How to excise this weakness. I thought I’d found—but there’s nothing.”

Jesper would offer to brutally desecrate the Darkling’s corpse again, but it clearly doesn’t help. Kaz won’t let this go. Never mind that he was a teenage thief imprisoned in a palace. Never mind it was him against the whole entourage of the most powerful Grisha. The man who crowned himself Emperor.

Sometimes you’re just fucked. And there’s nothing you can do. Life isn’t fair.

“There is a way to beat him,” Kaz hisses. “And I will find it.”

“You did. Sort of.”

“What—”

Jesper grins a shark-grin. “You’re not in Ravka now, are you?”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Why doesn’t it? No, boss, listen—he didn’t beat you alone, either, right? He had his Tailor making you into a doll. His Fabrikators locking your cage. His soldiers. Hell, Haskell selling you out—so really, it’s your victory that I found you.” Now that Jesper’s trying to explain his gut reaction, it just seems more and more logical. “Why can’t you have your own gang? You practically rescued yourself. You took a look at a boy who’d have gotten shot in a few weeks because he couldn’t pay is debts and he couldn’t stop fucking gambling—you had me dragged up to your office. You took that chance. You saved my life so I could save yours. That’s… planning ahead. Planning years ahead. Well done.”

Kaz finally, finally stops pacing. He sinks into the mattress just slightly to the right of Jesper, so he can sprawl out his legs without making contact. He looks at Jesper, but he’s silent, and his face isn’t giving anything away.

At first, that makes it feel like he’s actually listening. Actually considering what Jesper told him, and agreeing. Kaz is a quick thinker, though. He doesn’t need this long to realize that Jesper’s correct, which means he’s coming up with counterarguments—arguments why actually, he’s still weak or whatever and needs to force himself—and Jesper really, really can’t watch him do this to himself again. Why this, anyway? Why is this the weakness he fixated on?

“Why is that creep so obsessed with making you touch people, anyway?”

“Because it’s easy. Necessary. Even a child does it. Touch is what makes us human, and the Sun Summoner is human, whatever lies he tells himself,” Kaz recites. His eyes are bright. Wet.

“Bullshit. You terrorized the Barrel for years and it didn’t matter at all that you never touched anyone. It was just you. It didn’t even really sink in for me, that you don’t touch people, until I saw the way he dressed you up, how miserable you were.” That’s probably a good place to leave it, but Jesper’s livid. Jesper could mince and mangle fifty Darklings with the pure force of his loathing, and there’s not even a single one around here. That energy has to go somewhere. “You’re trying to tell me the Ravkan fucking palace couldn’t change protocol a little and adapt? If it never mattered in the Barrel, it never mattered at all. He just picked something. If you’d been allergic to shellfish, that’s the only food he would have served you, and he would have said you’re weak for your windpipe swelling up. He wasn’t able control you because touch made you weak. When you’re in control, it doesn’t matter. Because you fucking kill whoever touches you. You don’t bow to them. They bow to you.”

Kaz doesn’t reply. He doesn’t look away from Jesper, though. He just stares down at him, with his eyes still wide and still wet. He mutters, “You’ve turned quite opinionated in my absence, Jesper.”

“In your presence. I’m quoting your words back to you—sort of, it was about the cane, and I’ve forgotten half of it. But you were right. You were always right.” Jesper laughs. “See? Now you’re teaching yourself through time and space! Your masterplan is incredibly fucking elaborate!”

“My—I’m not falling for it.” Kaz is grinning, though. “If I agree now—by this time tomorrow you’ll have done something incredibly stupid and you’ll throw the whole Everything I do is your triumph because you saved me thing in my face. I’m not responsible for your awful jokes!”

Pretending to wipe tears from his eyes, Jesper wails, “My plan! My ingenious plan! Foiled by the dastardly Dirtyhands, oh no!”

Kaz laughs at him. Kaz laughs, and laughs, and Jesper joins him.

It takes a while before Kaz stops, gasping for breath. No-one in Ravka’s ever told a good joke, Jesper decides, because he’s made way funnier jokes before that Kaz didn’t even chuckle at, but gift horses and mouths and so on. Colour’s returned to Kaz’ face: his cheeks are blotchy and red, even after his breathing’s evened out. Kaz mumbles, “You know, that’s exactly how I imagined it.”

What? Oh. Jesper’s sprawled on the floor, leaning back on his elbows, his shirt pulled out of his trousers—his trousers, which are open, and he still hasn’t tucked away his dick. He forgot. There were more far important things to do, and now… well, he probably looks more debauched than Kaz in his purple kefta, with just his prick exposed to the chilly night-time Kerch air while he lounges on the ground. He ghosts a finger over it.

“Do you want me to—do you want to watch, boss?”

“I’d—” Kaz swallows. “Saints.”

Jesper turns a little, so Kaz can get a better view. He doesn’t undress, in case that’s an integral part of the fantasy, just gently trails his fingers down his still-limp dick—though it’s definitely waking up now—and looks up at Kaz.

Kaz doesn’t meet his eyes anymore, but that’s fine: more than fine, when he’s alternately looking at Jesper’s cock and at Jesper’s lips. Jesper darts out his tongue, and Kaz’ pupils blow even wider. Jesper licks down his palm and starts jerking off in earnest. “Hey, boss,” Jesper mutters, and when the head jerks up Jesper blows him a tiny kiss.

“What do you think about?” Kaz rasps.

“I just look at you. That’s enough. I like your face.” The tiny quirk of his lips, the way his eyes dart back down. “What are you thinking about, boss?”

“I didn’t expect you to enjoy this as much.”

“Seriously, boss, I know you’re not that stupid. How many times—”

“Not me,” Kaz mumbles. He gestures obscurely at the room. Jesper. The wall. The floor. The floor again. “This. It’s—not proper. Demeaning.”

“I wasn’t feeling demeaned until you started talking—”

“I was going to make you my right hand, once I took over the Dregs. Not my whore—”

“You were?” slips out, small and breathless, before Jesper remembers that this is for Kaz. This for him to enjoy. The warmth expanding in Jesper’s ribcage can wait. “There’s nothing bad about this. You like it. I like it. I don’t see anyone else in this room, and even if—a very clever guy once told me that you don’t bow to the world. You make the world bow to you.”

☼

It’s scratching that wakes Jesper. Scratching like the sharpening of a knife, quick, impatient, desperate—but it’s Kaz who’s on watch right now, Kaz who found this shallow cave they’re spending the night in, and Kaz wouldn’t let any danger come this close unnoticed. Unfought. Kaz wouldn’t just leave Jesper to his fate—would he?

He wouldn’t. At least not yet.

Kaz is sitting at the mouth of the cave. The moon drenches his matted dirty hair in its white glory, his handmade trousers, his naked wiry chest. His chest which he hasn’t bared for a second since Jesper gave him the kefta, even pulling off the Sun Summoner chemise that they tore into threads while still wrapped up in both of his coats: but now he’s half-naked, head bending down to look at those tines sticking out of his clavicle. Those antlers, those keratinized tumours, those bone cancers. Whatever those mutations are, he wants them gone.

In the right hand, he’s holding the knife that Jesper made from buttons so they could cut the blanket into trouser-shapes. In the left hand, he’s holding one of the protrusions growing from his body.

And then, he starts hacking again.

Viciously, helplessly, like a sick rabbit mutated into its own trap. He misses, once, and the knife sinks into his collarbone: but silently he tears it out again and cuts at the cancerous bone, and the knife’s sharp but the only dents that Jesper can see are tiny, glowing, lighting up the knife that’s flecked with his own blood.

☼

Jesper stirs the potato chunks. Thankfully, the old hearth still works, at least after he and Inej fed it with firewood they brought from the market, and so he’s cooking potatoes in butter and water. He mashes them up with some heavy wooden implement he found in a cabinet, once they’re soft enough—he washed it of course; he doesn’t want to eat moth shit—and then Inej passes him a wooden board of carrots in neat small identical pieces. Show-off. Jesper loves her so fucking much.

“Careful, don’t let it burn,” she says, twirling her knife, and Jesper—well, he meant to stir the pot of what’s apparently becoming stamppot. He did. He didn’t mean to think of how he’ll get Inej and Kaz out of Ravka—

And that’s when Kaz limps into the kitchen. He wasn’t still asleep when Inej and Jesper went into town to get some food—as if the Bastard of the Barrel ever sleeps in, even when he’s far from his titular Barrel—but he begged off the trip. He told them to say they’re working for Johannus Rietveld, if they’re asked, who’s apparently inherited this farm, but—they weren’t asked a thing, anyway, and who knows what Kaz did in the meantime. Who knows what weird cover identity he’s cooked up that they haven’t yet had to invoke. And whether it’s weirder than the one Jesper just created.

Jesper gives him a tender little smile. “Had a good morning?”

“No.”

“Because of last—”

But Kaz can read Jesper at least as well as he can read himself. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he rasps. “You’re the least terrifying person I’ve ever met.” Which probably means Yes, I’m rattled, but I won’t take it out on you. Too much.

“Thanks, darling.” And obeying Inej’s sharp elbow, he goes back to stirring the potato mash, and the slices of rookworst smoked sausage she’s dumped into another pan as well. “We decided Inej needs a proper homecooked meal, now she’s free, and we both haven’t eaten anything worth eating for ages, either.”

“You cook?”

“I grew up with my Da. It was either him or me. We traded off, if you want to know, and I’m pretty good apart from when it mysteriously turns into charcoal. And we didn’t find any Zemeni spices in the Lij market—this isn’t Ketterdam, and this old trader I talked to, she said it’s because maritime traffic to Novyi Zem is down to trickles at this point there’s a real dearth of spices, she couldn’t get them at any reasonable price—”

“Don’t burn the stamppot,” Inej orders.

“Anyway, we found a recipe tacked to the wall behind the oven, so that’s what I’m making now. Something super Kerch. Stamppot—you’ve ever eaten it?”

Kaz makes a sound that’s deeply indecipherable. Jesper can’t even tell whether it’s mournful or happy.

“Anyway, we’re almost done. Spinach now, please—Inej made me stick to the recipe, you know—and then the fried sausage and some salt and… you’ll stay with us for lunch, right, even if it isn’t royal Little Palace fare?”

“We ate unseasoned burnt rabbits in the forest,” Kaz replies curtly. He’s gotten over whatever strange emotion took hold of him, then.

“Yeowtch, they were awful. Why didn’t you remind me to take them off the fire. I know how to smuggle us into Novyi Zem,” Jesper says, carrying the deep pot over to their chosen clean bit of floor. Next to the windowsill, so Kaz can sit down with a little less discomfort—the house has been cleaned out apart from the marriage bed, really, and making Kaz go in there now… Making Inej go in there now, when it’s where last night he and Kaz had sex… And it’s not like they were loud, but who knows what Inej read into them pacing around each other for an hour. This is much less awkward. Besides, Jesper’s recently had some great experiences with floors.

Inej doesn’t stop playing with her knife, even after she balances her stamppot served on woodboard on her knees and digs in with her slightly bent spoon. She hasn’t set it down all morning, even carried it into town when they went looking for something to eat, and while she’s been supervising Jesper’s cooking—making sure he’s reading the recipe, keeping him on-track, bickering with him over unclear or illegible instructions—she’s been twirling it around her fingers. A truly remarkable feat, given that it’s the piece of shit knife that Jesper cobbled together from coat buttons, and he didn’t know what he was doing at all except that it should probably be sharp. Inej really needs to talk him through the finer points of balance if she wants him to overhaul the thing.

“They’re not letting in any more refugees from Kerch, you said,” Jesper starts setting up the explanation for his ingenious plan, while he passes over Kaz’ portion and another spoon he dug out from the bottom of a cabinet and small-scienced back into shape.

“The rich Kerch started running first, when the Darkling advanced. Anyone who’d ever had a Grisha indenture… They probably got in. They had the money. As for the rest… well, we’ve all heard of what happened in Fjerda, unless we’re Jesper and too busy drinking and playing Makker’s Wheel—”

“Hey! I was trying to pay off your indenture,” Jesper complains, while nibbling on his surprisingly decent if underspiced potato mash. “I’m Zemeni. They’ll let me in.”

Kaz still hasn’t touched his food. He hasn’t put it away either though, hand cradling the board instead of throwing it at Jesper. Maybe it’s because he’s too curious about the plan. Jesper should have waited, but he was too excited, and now Kaz is frowning as he replies, “So you keep saying. How does that help us? I assume you wouldn’t leave the two of us behind, after all that trouble you took.”

It feels good, to hear him say that. Almost good enough to forgive that Kaz doesn’t like his lunch. “That’s where my plan comes in. I’ve finally figured it out. If we’re married—”

“We can’t marry each other,” Kaz rasps. Before Jesper gets too sad about that, he continues, “In case you haven’t yet learned to count, we’re three people now.”

“I know. That’s why I’ve been thinking it over for so long. But divorce exists, you know so I was thinking that our story should be—and I’ll write to Da, but I thought you should probably agree first—I married one of you and then fell in love with the other but I still loved both, so I was trying to—”

Inej coughs. Laughs. Yeah, she’s definitely laughing at him, and then she says, “You’re going to tell your father about your marriage in a letter—your multiple marriages, because not only did you get married without inviting him, you already traded in your wife for a younger, prettier model. You lothario!”

“If you think that Kaz—actually, are you younger than Inej?”

Kaz, spoon in mouth, glares down at him.

“I’m trying to save our lives here. I’d appreciate some cooperation! And Da will forgive me, when he sees how happy I am with my new bonebreaking gangster wife and my old knife-twirling gangster wife who I had to divorce for petty bureaucratic reasons. Do you like it?”

Another spoonful of stamppot disappears into Kaz’ mouth. His eyes are closed while he chews, and then he looks away. His voice is hoarser than normal when he mumbles, “It tastes exactly the way I—it’s good.”

“Better than unseasoned rabbit charcoal. Anyway, it might throw the Darkling off our scent some more, if we disguise Kaz as a woman—and don’t be sexist. Women come in all shapes and sizes, no-one’s going to suspect a thing. Also we’re from Ketterdam. If any woman like Kaz can marry anywhere, it’s here. It’ll be a scandal, if they refuse to honour our marriage. Letting a few poors drown outside Zemeni borders, sure, but breaking the mutual recognition of administrative documents?”

Jesper is actually pretty proud of his reasoning here. That makes it even more annoying when Kaz rasps, “No-one will ever believe I’m your wife. I can’t even touch you.”

“No-one’s going to believe I love you? Are you sure?” Jesper flutters his eyes up at Kaz.

“He has a point, Jesper. You won’t be the first desperate refugee forging a marriage to leave.” Inej twirls her knife again. “You’ll need to act the part.”

“We’ll just tell them the truth.”

“Which is?”

“You don’t want to be touched, and if they have a follow-up question, they’d better direct it to the barrel of my gun. I’m not letting anybody non-consensually grope my beloved Kerch wife. Never again. Not over my dead body.”

“Won’t they think it’s weird if Kaz—sorry, your beautiful Kerch wife doesn’t let you touch him?”

“I don’t care. I told you. Let the world bow to us. I love my ingenious, vicious Kerch wife, completely independent of any physical contact we may or may not ever have. I respect my stubborn loyal deadpan Kerch wife far too much to cross those boundaries just for social custom. Also, my sweet murderous Kerch wife has a mean right hook.”

“Thankyou for the demonstration of your acting skills,” Kaz rasps drily, scratching his spoon on his serving board for the last flecks of stamppot. “We’re not going to Novyi Zem, though. There are more amplifiers than just the Stag he forced into me, and we’re going to find the rest. I’m going to tear apart every miserable molecule in the Darkling’s body, cell by fucking cell.”

“And you just let me keep talking?”

“It was entertaining.” Kaz licks his spoon, and then the board. Any second now, Jesper will tell him there’s more left in the pot. “Write your Da. We’ll keep your plan as a backup, in case everything goes horribly wrong. You’ll need a ring, though, to make it official,” and Kaz starts rooting through the kefta pockets.

Jesper can’t breathe. Is Kaz really…? He can’t breathe until he looks at Kaz’ stretched-out, gloved hand, and—

“How the fuck did you steal that one?! I was just wearing it!”

#jesper fahey #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kaz x jesper #dimtraces makes things #shadow & bone #shadow and bone