dirtyhandsdemjin

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

🔌Unplugged📚Launching Soon!📦 

A monthly subscription box like you’ve never seen. New release YA & New Adult books with quality bookish & self-care goodies to aid in unplugging.

instagram.  facebook.  twitter. 

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

fav!otps [1/?] kanej (kaz brekker x inej ghafa) // six of crows by leigh bardugo

Inej turned to go. Kaz seized her hand, keeping it on the railing. He didn’t look at her. “Stay”, he said, his voice rough stone. “Stay in Ketterdam. Stay with me.” She looked down at his gloved hand clutching hers. Everything in her wanted to say yes, but she would not settle for so little, not after all she’d been through. “What would be the point?” He took a breath. “I want you to stay. I want you to… I want you”. “You want me.” She turned the words over. Gently, she squeezed his hand. “And how will you have me, Kaz?” He looked at her then, eyes fierce, mouth set. It was the face he wore when he was fighting. “How will you have me?” she repeated. “Fully clothed, gloves on, your head turned away so our lips can never touch?” He released her hand, his shoulders bunching, his gaze angry and ashamed as he turned his face to the sea.

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

Geels looked at Kaz as if he was finally seeing him for the first time. The boy he’d been talking to had been cocky, reckless, easily amused, but not frightening— not really. Now the monster was here, dead-eyed and unafraid. 

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

ofwylan:

dirtyhandsdemjin.

    Kaz eyed the clear liquid in Wylan’s hand. 

    “Are you drunk?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. Though he might never admit to it, Wylan had become the calm one, the voice of reason when Kaz’s scheming had piled and piled into a mess of obstacles the six crows had to get through. Months of plotting had lead them to riches beyond measure, but not without significant cost. Perhaps Wylan’s loose screws had popped out completely. Kaz couldn’t blame him; he’d learned a lot about himself over the past year. The things that haunted Kaz had been there for so long he’d had time to adjust, but this was all fresh for Wylan Van Eck. 

     “If you’ve confused me for Jesper, we have another issue entirely.” He looked and behaved nothing like Jesper, but that was another matter entirely. Kaz tugged on the leather gloves covering his hands, his fingers flexing around his cane before took a slow seat on a straight-back, wooden chair, flinching in agony. Recovery was a slow process. 

     “I’m not inclined to discuss my finances with you,” Kaz said. “I see you’re making good use of yours.” He gestured around vaguely, pointing out the broken estate that had once belonged to Jan Van Eck. They’d done well in destroying the place and really, it wasn’t quite suitable to live in, but here they were. “It is generous of you to offer me residence here, but consider this my official no. I’m leaving Ketterdam.”

“WHAT?” Wylan’s shoulders jumped. “Kaz. No. No. Nonono. Not drunk but now I wish I was.” 

His breathing picked up. His mouth opened with no words. And he breathed.  This was his nightmare. He’d dreamt of this. (And woken up in a sweat.) 

Wylan’s expression seemed half frozen, wobbling between disbelief and annoyance. “You. Can’t. Just–” he licked his lips, “–Leave. Just because I confused you for Jesper? Is that what this is about?” 

and then… like an avalanche.

“After everything we’ve been through? Really? Have you NO idea… how much you’ve come to mean to me? Do you not get it? You are important to me. You are all I have left. You are my role model —- I look up to you. I’m nothing without YOU.” 

His breathing was off again. He pulled out his inhaler, gasping with his lips around the mouthpiece. “I’m sorry but if you go… I go.” Wylan lifted his chin, met Kaz’s eyes with a very heated defiance. “Crow connection…” He whispered feverishly, tucking the inhaler away. 

     Kaz’s expression was deadpan. He didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. 

     Wylan Van Eck was a broken thing. The situation with his father must have done him in. Did Jesper know about this? Why the hell wasn’t he watching over his little plaything now? Why was this suddenly Kaz’s problem? 

     Kaz inhaled a slow breath, grasped the device Wylan had placed between his lips, dropped it to the ground, and crushed it with his shoe.

     “This isn’t helping that,” Kaz said, pointing a single finger to Wylan’s temple. 

     “Like hell you are coming with me. Inej and I leave on her ship tomorrow. She is off on some noble mission to free slaves and I’m--” he paused, rolling his fingers into a tight fist that pulled at the thick leather of his gloves. “I’ve got something I need to do. Without you. I need you here.”

      Kaz glanced around cautiously and leaned forward. “Has Alys been harassing you? Is that it?” He could have her taken care of. The girl was dim and he had never liked her, but he’d chosen to preserve her life for certain necessary endeavors. Now that they were taken care of, Kaz couldn’t care less if she lived or died.

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

oflegendaries

               not caring whether she looked distrustful or paranoid, she quickly counted the money before giving a sharp nod and tucking it into one of the many pockets sewed into the inner side of her kefta.❛ it’ll do, thank you. and we indeed have a deal. ❜ in how much more trouble could she get, after all ? if he was also involved in shady business, there was little risk he’d sell her out to an oprichnik the moment they set foot in os alta. 

               ❛ i’ll have to tailor you indoors, though. it’s not an ability you should be able to find on any street corner, and i’d rather keep everything on the down low. do you have a rented room already, or should we walk back to mine ? ❜genya had already started working in her head, making a list of changes and tweaks as they came, eye darting between the boy and the man he’d pointed out.❛ also, do i get a name ? these aren’t a requisite, mind you. ❜ she’d resolved to give him a fake one in case he asked for one in return, after all. these days, trust couldn’t go much further than that, especially not when she would be recognizable enough as it was once her own tailoring started fading.

     “Oh no, we are leaving straightaway,” Kaz replied with no hint of caution in his voice. “I’ve arranged a carriage. Will that be suitable to do your work?” 

       Three days prior, Kaz had written an advanced notice just before boarding the vessel that took far too many stops and detours to get him here, but he had been prepared for a waiting game. If all went well, there’d be someone arriving shortly with a horse and carriage; which was a rather old fashioned way to travel, but it would draw few eyes. They’d take it half the distance to Os Alta where they would pick up another for the remaining distance. It would take the full day to get there if they traveled at a consistent pace. 

       “Kaz Brekker. Yourself?” he asked, quirking a single brow. He didn’t need to know her name, but he’d learned to store information in one of the hundreds of compartments inside of his mind in the event that he needed to use that information in the future. Kaz indicated with a vague incline of his head for her to follow her along the street towards the back of a building on the main drag. He walked slowly, favoring his bad leg while he gripped his cane tightly.

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

warsraging

      It had become somewhat of a habit by now     for Inej to think she had Kaz all figured out, only to be caught off guard with only a few words. He’d found ships for her. That was how he had been spending his time. Between doing research of her own and keeping up with the streets of Ketterdam to provide Kaz intel, she barely managed to make time to check on him anymore.

     Kaz’s answer to her own question had been, unsurprisingly, vague; she should’ve known better than to expect a straightforward one, after all. “Well, I would gladly let you aboard to take you where you need to go.” She just barely managed to make herself sound casual, as if they were merely having a friendly conversation; hopefully the traces of surprise would’ve left her features already.

     "If you looked into them, then I’m sure they’re good for the job.” It didn’t ring as a compliment, but a statement; something Inej knew to be true, and that felt natural to say. “And in the price range,” she added after a moment. Ships weren’t that big of an expense when you had four million kruge, but it wasn’t anything to overlook either; Inej had to make sure not to use up her share right off the bat. “Thank you,” she said finally, her expression softening. “For doing this. I can go see them tomorrow and settle a deal with the buyers.” He’d done enough for her already; the least Inej could do was take it from there and do the negotiations herself.

     It was the subtlest shift in her expression, the vaguest twitch on her lips that rewarded him with the indication she’d heard his offer. He hadn’t expected her to jump up and celebrate by any means. In fact, Kaz nearly anticipated the opposite. At times, he’d grown accustomed to her desire to prove herself and he’d wondered if she might get mad at him for getting her the ships she had wanted for so long. Maybe, he’d begun to think, she had wanted to procure them herself. But no, there was the a trace glimmer of excitement in her expression that he wasn’t sure how to interpret. 

     “Alright,” he said, his only reply to her acknowledging that it would be okay for him to travel on her vessels. Kaz didn’t move an inch, his hand remaining splayed over the table, his eyes on her, unreadable to the point that they appeared dead. Maybe he was dead; or at least a big part of him was, and had been for a long time. Maybe it was Inej who had begun filling in that dead space, or maybe he was so far gone that repair would be impossible.

     Kaz had won the ships in a far more shady manner than he would be willing to admit, and her comment on their cost was the only thing that made him flinch, just slightly. It was so easy to lie, but he’d learned to hate lying to her.

     He waved his hand at her.

      “It’s settled. We can go tomorrow at four,” he said. Kaz’s eyes darted to his hands, his gloved hands, and he tugged on the thick material, pulling them higher. His pale, bare arms prickled with goosebumps, the hair standing erect from a chill in the air. 

      “Where will you go first?”

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

warsraging:.

    The Wraith was meant to follow him, to cling to him as closely and silently as a shadow     and Inej would deliver, always, without hesitation. She never complained, but even she was reaching her limit. Kaz’s mood swings were easier to handle before, when things weren’t so awkward, when they weren’t so distant. Now, it just felt frustrating. He was so out of reach to her, and Inej realized with a sinking feeling that it bothered her to no end.

    For once, she didn’t want to follow Kaz Brekker. She wanted to push him, to make him talk to her the way he did before. She’d endure the jokes, the snarky remarks and the sudden, long silences he was so prone to. She’d endure it all if it meant she could have a part of him back.

    She had vowed not to tear herself apart for his sake. Had vowed to accept whatever outcome that decision led to      so why was she second-guessing her resolve now?

     Silence was an old companion of her in those dark, eerie streets. It seemed as if it was her only companion now, too. Still, Inej didn’t fight it, knowing Kaz wouldn’t answer her questions any more than he did the first one. Instead she followed, reluctantly so, and was actually surprised to find the old barber shop ahead. She’d passed it before at times, though never entered; never had a reason to, honestly.

       It was irksome, how easy it was for her body to follow his lead as he guided her inside; like an old reflex she didn’t quite know how to shake off. Inej tried to focus her attention on her surroundings instead. No one really seemed to acknowledge their presence; she was actually somewhat thankful for that. Her gaze shifted to the room Kaz was showing her      it was small and dusty and with no personal touch to it. HIS room, Inej realized with a sinking feeling.

      Some spy she turned out to be. She didn’t even know he had left their old place.

     The chair made a rickety sound when she sat down, but soon stilled. Her gaze lingered on Kaz for a moment, noticing his bare skin almost immediately. It was such an unusual sight, and she didn’t quite know what to make of it. He kept his gloves on still, but it seemed as though his armor had chipped away very slowly, just a little.

    LEAVING. She barely had time to focus on how her name sounded spilling from his lips ( how she had missed hearing it ), before his next words struck her. He was leaving. Why did that shake her so much? Wasn’t Inej going to leave herself? He should be allowed the same, she tried to tell herself. Or were you just expecting him to be here when you came back? she heard instead.

    “Yes,” she replied to his question after a long silence, still reeling in from the previous statement; her own plans to travel were the last thing on her mind right now. “     Where will you go?” Will you come back? To Ketterdam? To me?

      For once, he didn’t pay close enough attention to her demeanor to notice any subtle shifts in her posture, in her expression, that might tell him what she felt about his residence, about this pathetic life he’d carved for himself post-heist. He couldn’t bare to see the disappointment that he knew would be there if he looked hard enough. Instead, Kaz averted his eyes and studied the knotted oak table littered with papers ranging from advertisements and newspaper clippings to top secret files on people she (hopefully) had never heard of. 

      “I’ve found you some ships,” Kaz said. He leaned back casually in his seat with one hand rested on the table before him. “If you’re interested.” He’d meant to simply give them to her. Not yet, but later. Meant for her to just take them or leave them, if that was what she wanted. He hadn’t intended to have this discussion, but now that she was there, before him, he could not keep himself from speaking. 

       Her question threw him off guard. Kaz’s eyes flickered up to hers and then away again as he gave the subtlest hint of a shrug. “Here and there,” he said vaguely. “Perhaps a journey on one of your ships will take me to where I need to be. Perhaps not. Do you want them?”

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

Tender Crows

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

oflegendaries

               the manner in which he’d made his offer, she decided, pointed towards it straying out of the well-traveled path of lawfulness. but then again, who was she to judge ? she’d been evading the law for more than two years now, albeit not as dramatically as some stories would say. the least she could do was lend him an ear, especially when there was ( or so he claimed ) that much money to be won. 

               genya would have liked nothing more than to accept the deal right away, but she hadn’t survived this long without exercising at least a little caution. instead, she peered at him, eye narrowing as though she was a painter evaluating the condition of her canvas.❛ no offense meant, but i’ll need to see some of that money before i agree to anything. ❜ but even as she spoke, she knew she was already half-convinced.❛ and you’ll have to keep in mind i cannot make you look as broad as one of their own without permanent consequences on your skeleton. merely change your bone structure, turn your hair blond and your eyes blue. ❜

               her hands tightened on the case she carried, knowing her entire livelihood as a tailor fit in there as a collection of small glass vials, tinctures and samples.❛ as for os alta, i was heading there anyway. what’s the part ? ❜ if it risked exposing her identity too much, genya reflected, she’d have to refuse it, loathe as she was to pass up on seemingly easy money.

      “Understood,” Kaz said. He withdrew a small, black velvet pouch from his front, shirt pocket, removed a small handful of kruge adding up to nearly a forth of what he would pay her, and slipped it into her open hand. Kaz replaced the pouch into another pocket while her attention was elsewhere. “I won’t stiff you.” And he wouldn’t. He had more than enough money now, but this kind of opportunity in Os Alta was not purely for monetary benefit. 

      “Understood again. Make me look a tad less me and a tad more,” Kaz paused to point out a wide-necked, blonde hair, blue eyed gentleman strolling past. “Like that and we are in business.” He expected no miracle work. It was only with the aid of jurda parem that he’d seen flawless results at a Tailor’s hands, but it would be good enough to keep him disguised. 

      Kaz cocked a brow. “My specific location doesn’t quite concern you at this time. If it does at some point, you will be the first to know.” He clutched his hand around the head of the crow cane, his leather gloves stretching. “Do we have a deal?”

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

A gambler, a convict, a wayward son, a lost Grisha, a Suli girl who had become a killer, a boy from the Barrel who had become something worse.

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

ofwylan

      “What can I say, Kaz, I got thirsty.” Wylan lowered the glass of jurda from his lips after another huge gulp. He smacked his lips together, gasped a refreshed ahhh! and said, “so good.” 

      “Not insinuating anything. Actually, I must’ve just confused you for Jesper. I apologize — you know, I just can’t stop thinking about him.” Wylan smiled fondly, eyes going soft. Snap out of it.  “Oh you know. Sometimes it gets tough with so many animals around sometimes – it’s a lot of responsibility, but I do love my animals. Other than that, just oh the usual — breaking into banks and making a ton of money, am I right?” He gently elbowed Kaz in the stomach and winked. 

      “What have you done with your share?” He asked as he took another drink of jurda. 

    Kaz eyed the clear liquid in Wylan’s hand. 

    “Are you drunk?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. Though he might never admit to it, Wylan had become the calm one, the voice of reason when Kaz’s scheming had piled and piled into a mess of obstacles the six crows had to get through. Months of plotting had lead them to riches beyond measure, but not without significant cost. Perhaps Wylan’s loose screws had popped out completely. Kaz couldn’t blame him; he’d learned a lot about himself over the past year. The things that haunted Kaz had been there for so long he’d had time to adjust, but this was all fresh for Wylan Van Eck. 

     “If you’ve confused me for Jesper, we have another issue entirely.” He looked and behaved nothing like Jesper, but that was another matter entirely. Kaz tugged on the leather gloves covering his hands, his fingers flexing around his cane before took a slow seat on a straight-back, wooden chair, flinching in agony. Recovery was a slow process. 

     “I’m not inclined to discuss my finances with you,” Kaz said. “I see you’re making good use of yours.” He gestured around vaguely, pointing out the broken estate that had once belonged to Jan Van Eck. They’d done well in destroying the place and really, it wasn’t quite suitable to live in, but here they were. “It is generous of you to offer me residence here, but consider this my official no. I’m leaving Ketterdam.”

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

oflegendaries

               genya pulled her hood low over her head, careful to brush a curtain of red hair over her missing eye. her gift could smoothly conceal the scars running over her skin, but this was beyond her talent. how long had it been since she was this close to the capital ? saints, she wouldn’t even have risked it if she didn’t know the darkling was leagues away, near the fjerdan border and hunting for vastly convincing rumors there. the rest - sneaking into the city, freeing her friends, fleeing - was up to her.

               she fiddled with the blue cuffs of her kefta then mentally kicked herself for it, instead shoving her hands into her pockets to keep them still. it did not fit her perfectly, but at least os altans seemed to steer clear of someone who might be associated with the darkling. she would have cut straight through the crowd back to a safe shelter if not for the middle-aged man who stopped her in her tracks, babbling about needing fixes and tweaks for his…daughter ? niece ? she lost track halfway through the conversation. getting rid of him was a relief, but she was barely out of that conversation before another voice made her slow then stop. 

               it belonged to a young man she judged to be about eighteen, leaning on a crow-headed cane. the third thing she noted about him were his gloved hands, right before his offer caught her attention. saints curse her, extra cash was not something she could afford to turn her nose up at. besides, how much dangerous could it get for her here ? a single day would not throw too much of a hitch in her plans. ❛ it all depends, i think, on what you’re paying me for. the sum’s pretty enough, but i’d rather know what i’m getting into. ❜

     Kaz noticed her eyes - rather, her eye; the other of which he assumed was concealed by a curtain of bright red hair - roam over his form. He couldn’t blame her for being cautious; Os Kervo was a dangerous place to be alone, and he was well aware he didn’t appear like the most inviting of people. He could see her taking note of his cane, his gloves, his dark clothing, his posture. What might she be seeing?

     Both brows rose in a subtle question. Do you find me trustworthy?

     When she, at last, spoke, Kaz stood the slightest bit taller, straightening his spine as one hand clutched his cane. Black gloves pulled taut around his knuckles. 

     “Two things,” Kaz began. He lifted his cane for but a moment to tug the glove on his opposite hand tighter, then swapped hands, doing the same with the other. When he spoke again, he met her eye. “I need to look less me, more Fjerdan.” Kaz gave a long pause to allow her a moment to think on his proposition. “Second, I need a safe journey to Os Alta. If you can accompany me, playing a certain part, you will have 1,000 kruge in your pocket by tomorrow evening.”

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

ofwylan

     "–er, ow.” Wyaln grunted quietly, shoulder dipping from the physical weight and mental effects, both, of having another boy swing his cane so close to his face. He blinked a few times and regained his composure. “Right, yes. Just like the good old days when we used to share our bed when we were children, yes? Inej – is she…. will she be okay with this?”

    There was only one logical explanation for this obscene behavior other than the fact that it was Wylan.

    “You know you are not supposed to consume jurda before noon,” Kaz said. “I am not sure what you’re insinuating.”

      He exhaled a long breath. “What have you been occupying your time with?” Kaz asked. He had assumed Wylan had fallen into a routine of playing with kittens and bunny rabbits for weeks on end, since everything had happened, but this Wylan seemed different. It piqued his curiosity.

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

warsraging

     There was something different about the look on his face. Inej had seen him become angry before, though never to this particular extent, and over so little. It was a little frightening, honestly. Not because she was scared of him; moreso because it was something about him she did not recognize. How many more sides of Kaz Brekker had she yet to see? Was the recent distance between them at the root of this? Was she simply bound to feel him slipping through her fingers every time she looked at him?

      A breath of relief escaped her once he released the man. Inej wasn’t going to let Kaz do anything he’d regret, but she was thankful she wasn’t pushed to act this time. Her gaze lingered on the stranger for a moment, just to make sure he was fine, before following Kaz again. He didn’t seem to be waiting around for her, and though she hated chasing after him like this, she knew it would be bad to leave him alone now.

      Would it make a difference, she wondered? Could she even help Kaz anymore?

      The sudden detour surprised her, but the Wraith was quick to follow closely as she always did. Seeing him lose his balance, she couldn’t help but want to reach out to him. Her hand raised, outstretched as if to grab him      but stopped almost immediately; he never was any good at accepting her help, and Inej wasn’t quite sure where they stood now either. Instead, she remained in place, the look on her eyes meant to convey she was there if he needed her.

      Now that look she did recognize. A silent apology, a familiar unspoken thing between them. For better or worse, they did manage to work well together without any words. She said nothing in return, only held his gaze as if to tell him she accepted his apology. Could he see what else the look in her eyes carried? The sadness. The helplessness, the loneliness she hated feeling because he wasn’t around anymore.

      “Saints, Kaz…” she muttered under her breath as she watched him walk away again. It was no surprise that Inej followed him yet again; he seemed to be counting on it, anyway. The thought of asking him what had happened back there crossed her mind     but Kaz was restless and it was unlikely he’d open up to her now, and out on the street of all places; she’d save the questions for later, hoping for an answer.

      “Where are we going?” It wasn’t as though she particularly wanted to know; unless they ran into any more trouble, she would find out soon enough. Yet, for the first time in very long, she felt the need to fill the silence hanging above them. She’d much prefer asking a silly question and have him quip as usual, rather than being suffocated by that deafening silence.

     Inej; gentle, ever-observant Inej. Kaz wouldn’t admit it, but he was counting on her recognizing his body language. Her silent-feet tore after him, her movement barely visible in his periphery. It was near-insane what a few weeks apart could do to a man.

     Was he even a man? 

     He’d grown up long ago. On the barge, clinging to Jordie, in the weeks that followed with his stomach so empty he feared it might try to digest itself if only to have something to do. By law, though, Kaz was barely legal. It seemed unfair, but if he’d learned anything in his nearly-eighteen years, it was that life was not fair. 

     Why she put up with him, Kaz would never know. He sure as shit wouldn’t if he were in her shoes. These ever-changing moods that made him prone to volatility were unpredictable but consistently gloomy. It was tiring to deal with someone like him; someone who refused to see the sun even when it shone directly above his head. 

      For the third time, he’d taken off on her, leaving her to hurry in his wake. Fortunately for her, his movements were clumsy and slow while hers were quick and precise. Kaz ignored her question, as she most likely expected, and instead walked in dead silence all the way up the road, down an alley, up another road, along the riverbank, and beyond a number of establishments selling food and merchandise. At last, he stopped outside of a barber shop. His leg was aching so terribly he thought he might do better amputating the stupid, useless thing. Kaz opened the door, allowed Inej to enter first, and swiftly followed her inside. 

     A single, well-dressed barber used a straight-edge razor to shave off a man’s stubble along his throat. He barely acknowledged Kaz, who was limping towards the back and up a set of rickety stairs that appeared as though they might snap under too much weight. Finally, at the top, he let her into a tiny room with nothing but a decrepit old mattress covered with a threadbare sheet, a sorry excuse for a dresser, and a desk and table covered in clippings of paper. Kaz removed his coat to reveal short, rolled white sleeves. He placed his top hat on the table and sat down slowly, cringing. 

     This was where he slept. This was where he’d been living.

     “I’ve nothing to offer you, but take a seat,” he said, gesturing to an old, worn, wooden chair on the adjacent corner of the table. “Wrai-- Inej. I’m thinking about leaving.” It was barely enough, but at the same time, it was more information than he’d given anyone in weeks. “Soon.” Come with me, he thought, but didn’t say. Kaz winced, but just barely, and glanced towards the murky window that barely allowed in any light. “Are you still seeking a fleet?”

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

the dregs: kaz has his scheming face on i wonder what dangerous heist hes plotting now

kazs mind: [wii music]

[dirtyhandsdemjin]

I have 435 pickles and my friend has 3 pickles. I maker her give 2 of her pickles to a homeless man. THAT'S basically how celebrity fundraisers work. Have a tampa.

    No. That’s how taxation works.