#ShadowSummoner!reader

[hiraeth-witch-11]

The Greed of Men Part 2

Warnings: mentions of violence, The Darkling

Word count: 1200ish

“How were you missed by the testers?” That’s the first question he asks you. Not entirely what you had expected.

“The same way Alina did. I taught her how to do it. All it takes is a little pain to fool most testers.”

“You kept her from me?” The Darkling asks in carefully controlled anger.

“I didn’t know what she was, just that she felt different. I kept a young girl from being sent off to war,” you correct.

“But you knew what you were by then. Didn’t you?” It’s not a question.

“Yes.” You began summoning somewhere around 6 or 7, old enough to know about Grisha, too young to really understand. Your parents did, though. They seemed to think beating you would get rid of the ‘Black Heretic’s Corruption’. It didn’t. Instead it made you sneaky, controlled, hyper aware of the people around you and resistant to pain. You learned to use your summoning in small, less noticeable ways. You could pick a lock without moving your hands, tie a note in a rope you couldn’t see, stitch torn clothing to appear temporarily mended. You could even sink yourself into the shadows and out of sight. 

“How long have you known?” A question you don’t want to answer.

“Since I was a child.”

“And your family? The people you were born to, did they share the same ability?

“No.”

“Surely someone would have spread the news of a new shadow summoner not of my line. You hid from my testers, but how did you hide from the rest of Ravka?”

“Carefully.”

“Are you being willfully obtuse or are you just dimwitted?” The insult is said evenly, testing the waters.

“It would be so much easier for you if it was the latter. Wouldn’t it?” You grin.

“Too easy, I suppose,” he murmurs. “How did you come to arrive at the orphanage?”

“I ran away from home at 12. Living on the streets was dangerous. I chose the safety of the orphanage until I aged out.”

“Why did you run?”

“Why do you think?” You snap. He raises an eyebrow both in question and warning. “A Shadow Summoner born into a non Grisha family who lived their life within sight of the fold? I was lucky they didn’t burn me the moment they first saw me summon.”

You’re grateful he doesn’t continue to pry, you don’t know how much you could stand to tell him tonight. Instead he asks a question that fills you with shame. One of the rare things in life you regret. “Does she know?”

“No, I plan on telling her tonight. Granted that you hold true to your word, of course.” You really shouldn’t be taunting a man who has decades of summoning practice on you. You honestly don’t know how old he is, rumor has it he’s over a century. His face is young, but his eyes have a depth to them you haven’t seen before. 

The Darkling pauses to think for a moment before saying, “No. It could be advantageous to keep your summoning secret for the time being.”

“I’ve kept it a secret from her for long enough. It’s bad enough that I told you first, she’s going to be livid.”

“Be that as it may, having the element of surprise may help you keep her safe. Would it not?”

“Don’t you pull that manipulation bullshit on me, Shadow Man. Unless you give me a specific reason and a timeline, I am telling her tonight.”

The Darkling glares at you, likely for both your attitude and nickname for him. It’s honestly one of the more attractive ones.

“Give me a week. I would like to appraise your capability for myself, in private. At that point, we can discuss whether or not to tell the younger Ms. Starkov and, consequently, the rest of Ravka.”

“Tell me what happened to the letters Mal and I sent and it’s a deal,” you counter.

“They were read and burned.” He’s direct and emotionless.

“Read by whom?” Your voice is almost a growl. Saints, this man is a piece of work.

“Me.”

“So you read me begging my baby sister to let me know she was okay, for months, and didn’t allow any communication to get through?” Your voice is a viper’s hiss, the warning before a strike. The room darkens and you aren’t sure which of you is causing it this time.

“It would have been a security risk to allow communication between the three of you.” He’s unphased. You’re angry, abnormally so. Usually you have a tight grip on your temper, but you have spent months trying to get to your sister. Weeks of searching for news, only to find out she’s been presented at the Grand Palace upon arrival. You had tried to get into the Little Police the official way multiple times and you had been denied. At this point, Soldat Sol was becoming an increasing noise in the ears of the people. You chose to take some time evaluating the threat before you essentially turned yourself over to the most dangerous man on the continent. You had killed to protect her, taking out the most vile of the cult, the ones who would see her sacrificed to the fold. You would do it again in a heartbeat. You had little remorse for people who would so easily harm a child. Alina may be of adult age, barely at that, but she was still so young and naive to the ways of the world.

“Bullshit, Darkling. You wanted her isolated, no friends but the ones you allowed her. You wanted her to come to you, before anyone else. I heard about the ambush and your dashing rescue on the way to Os Alta. I wouldn’t be surprised if you arranged that to make yourself her hero,” you spit.

The Darkling’s shadows fill the room. His dark feels different from your own, but familiar in a way you can’t place. You can still see him through the dark and you watch him stalk towards you. You hold your ground and show no fear. You know he won’t kill you. That would ruin whatever trust he’s built with Alina. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your fear.

“I have never and will never put Alina in harm's way. I have protected her from the King, the court, radicalists, fanatics, and assassins. She has been fed, sheltered, and taught. Her wasting sickness healed. In all honesty, what can you do that I cannot?”

He’s within arm’s reach, staring down his nose at you, but his towering form doesn’t deter you as you answer, “I can keep her safe from you.”

You were surprised he had let you go so easily after that. Alina had been biting her nails when you opened the door. The Darkling announced his decision to let you stay, adding that he would like to take some time to get to know the Sun Summoner’s sister and that he would come to you tomorrow afternoon. Alina was excited to share everything with you and she chattered well into the night about her new friends, her lessons, her squaller arch nemesis, and the heart render she had yet to make smile. You were exhausted from the day, but you couldn’t interrupt your sister. She looked so healthy, so bright. Like she held the sun under her skin. She was happy, you realized. You would do anything to keep her like this. If anyone deserved to live a good life, it was her.

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[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Orphan of Shadows Chapter 10

Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!Reader

Word Count: 1398

Summary: The Encounter and the Fold

You heard the murmurs of their voices before you saw them; the tones of each of their voices were instantly recognizable even in your groggy state and even if you couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying until you burst into the street right behind Kaz.

Aleksander’s eyes flicked to yours, only showing mild surprise at your presence before honing back in on Kaz. “You should have stayed in Ketterdam, Mr. Brekker.” You had no idea what the gathering darkness in front of his hands was, but instinct told you that it wouldn’t be good if it touched you or Kaz.

Fortunately, Kaz had a backup plan that he deployed at the exact right moment while frantically shouting, “RUN!” at you.

When the light of his flashbomb blanketed the street like Alina just showed back up, you made sure to dart down an adjacent alleyway, only to have your entire body freeze up when the Darkling’s little heartrender guard rounded the corner.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he informed you, voice sounding rough with pain, pain that you assumed originated from the bleeding wound on his head that presumably one of the other Crows had given him.

You heard Kirigan say your name,  but since you couldn’t move a single muscle, you couldn’t exactly see the disappointed expression he was giving you until he stepped in front of you. “I suspected that your timing was a bit too . . . perfect when you arrived at the Little Palace. A rogue grisha that knows her way around Ravka would be quite useful on that silly little endeavor to kidnap my Sun Summoner. What did they offer you, hmm? And what exactly did you do to help them? How did they get across the Fold?”

Suddenly, you found yourself in control of your head, presumably so you could answer. Your jaw clenched before you forced the words, “You assume I’m being paid,” out just to be contrary. “Maybe I did it for kicks.”

He snarled a little, his handsome face contorting into something ugly and rage-filled. “Tell me . . .” His posture straightened, becoming the feared Black General before your eyes and sending a spark of fear down your spine. “Or my friend will make certain they never see you again, and I would hate to be forced to make such a decision. Especially regarding someone I went through the trouble of saving.”

“If you have your way, they won’t see me again anyway, but be that as it may, I have no intention of staying in this saintsforsaken country past nexxt week. So if you don’t mind . . .”

Your shadow slithered away from your feet and skirted unseen along the ground until it lunged for the Heartrender’s face and blinded him. “General!” he shrieked in alarm.

As soon as you were free of his grip, you were running. Gracelessly, you flung a hand behind you to shield yourself from the grasping shadows that were surely spilling from Kirigan’s fingertips. “You’ll have to do better than that!” you taunted on the same breath as a laugh. Truly getting away would be difficult for sure, but then again, you already had a history of escaping this specific man.

~

It felt like hours later when you finally saw your friends slink out of their various hidey-holes and walk past yours. You were exhausted--overuse of your powers to stay hidden in plain sight was sending you headed straight down the road to passing out--but still you held onto consciousness long enough to call, “Hey, guys,” and hear Kaz’s relieved, “Oh, thank fuck,” before you felt yourself pitching forward into the dirt.

~

You woke up on the back of a farm trailer, judging by the hay, with the sounds of Jesper and Inej conversing with an unfamiliar voice. Under your fingertips on the wooden trailer, your shadow’s presence tingled, reminding you of what transpired in the period before you lost consciousness.

A gentle knock against your boot kept you from jolting upright. Instead, your eyes slid open and immediately landed on Kaz. He offered no words, but you could see the relief seep into his features in the way the creasing around his eyes lessened. They didn’t go away--they never did--but the skin smoothing out even a little made him look more like his actual age. And made him look all the more handsome.

“Where are we going?” you asked, words slurred slightly as the exhaustion of the last few days reminded you that it had finally caught up to you.

“Home,” he replied simply. “She got away from us. We failed.”

“Because of me?”

“No. Alina was already long gone by the time you were rendered unconscious.” He took a deep, alarmingly shaky breath. “Inej was injured badly. She’ll be fine,” he rushed to say, “but we can’t go on looking for Alina as we are.”

“How will we cross the Fold?” You were close, you could tell. You still hadn’t looked around to get your bearings, but you could feel that telling scratching at the back of your mind once again.

Kaz’s gloved hand flexed on his cane. “You won’t like it.”

“Getting increasingly tired of hearing that, Kaz.”

All the more alarming was how he felt the need to tell you, “It was Jes’s idea.”

~

As it turned out, Kaz was right; you didn’t like it. Jes’s brilliant plan was to stow away on the Second Army’s skiff just like you did so long ago. That was apparently what gave him the idea in the first place, and despite the gut response you had of wanting nothing more than to punch the gunslinger, it was really the only even remotely valid option of getting home quickly enough that the people in the Barrel wouldn’t assume you died.

Still, you found yourself in the belly of the skiff, peeping through a grate to see General Kirigan like you were a little girl again. But this time, you were worried that he would sense you and come to torture you for information. The gnaw of the Fold on your nerves moved from clawing at your mind to settling and writhing in the pit of your stomach. Something would go wrong; you just didn’t know what it was. And there was no reason you could have ever expected that Alina and an unfamiliar man would essentially start a riot that Jesper and Inej would insist on joining in on.

It was utter chaos onboard the skiff. You and Kaz took down a handful of the General’s forces with the winning combination of his cane and a gun you stole from one of Jesper’s victims. But then you whipped around to face your next opponent and found yourself once again facing down none other than General Kirigan.

“Hello again,” he greeted like the world wasn’t going mad around you. “I believe you owe me an apology for being so defistatingly rude last time.”

“Yeah, that’s going to happen,” you scoffed, “probably around the same time she apologizes to you,” you added, nodding behind him where his precious Sun Summoner was preparing to attack him with something that looked quite like what Kirigan had sent at Kaz back in that alley.

“Alina--”

“Shh, shh, shh . . .” you hushed, letting your shadow reach out and curl around him threateningly. 

He glanced back at you. “Do you honestly think you can win this battle of wills?” Already, you could feel your grasp on the shadows start to slip between your fingers and into his.

Your shrug and statement of, “I don’t have to win,” was all the prompting Kaz needed to render the man briefly unconscious by bashing him in the back of the skull with that fabrikator-made cane of his.

Just as casually, Kaz leaned the bloodied thing up on his shoulder just long enough to ask, “Did you expect me to do anything else?” in response to the surprised expression you had on your face.

The laugh that rammed its way up out of your lungs was breathy and just this side of unhinged. “Saints, I love you,” you breathed, looking into those dark, calculating eyes of his.

“. . . What?” he gasped, clearly shocked breathless.

“Well, that was easy enough,” Jesper was saying with a large, beaming smile on his face as he descended the steps. Then he looked at Kaz. Then he looked at you. And back again. “Am I interrupting something?”

[hiraeth-witch-11]

The Greed of Men Part 4

Warnings: conspiracy to commit murder, slavery, death, blood, nightmares

Word Count: 1800ish

“It went fine, neither of us died so I’d say it actually went well. We’ll probably continue our ‘little chats’. Now stop fussing and get some sleep.”

“Are you sure you’re alright on the floor, Katya?”

“Yes, Alya. I prefer it to that cloud you call a bed. I wouldn’t want to sink and suffocate in my sleep,” you say.

“The General said he would arrange for you to have your own rooms tomorrow. Along with some clothes and such.”

“How kind of him.”

“You didn’t pack much and you can’t switch between the same two shirts everyday.”

“I could if I wanted to.”

“Don’t be stubborn.”

“Don’t ask the impossible, darling.”

A few moments of silence pass. Alina asks tentatively, “Are we okay?”

“Oh Alya, of course we are. Where is this coming from, malen'kiy?”

“You haven’t told me anything about what happened while you were gone.”

“I was traveling, sestra, looking for you-”

“And it took you months to find me? Wait, I’m sorry that came out wrong. I know you and you’re avoiding it. Are you- are you mad at me for being here?”

“I could never be mad at you, malen’kiy. I don’t want to burden you with the boring details-”

Alina scoffs, “At least don’t lie to me about it, Katarina.”

“I keep a lot of things secret from you, Alya. I’ve done things I don’t want you to know about. You know this.”

“I just don’t know why you still keep it from me. I tell you everything. Why don’t you do the same?”

You take a deep breath, considering what you should say. “You’ve seen my scars, malen’kiy. You know some of what I’ve done on the streets to survive, the sort of work I take to stay close to you. I’m a thief, an informant, sometimes a mercenary and a killer. You deserve better than to share the weight of what I have done. Family before you and Malyen only meant bad things. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, and I guess, for me, that always just meant hiding the bad from you. You were just a child and it was the only way I knew how to protect you. It’s hard to change that behavior, even though you’ve grown up.” You pause and let out a shaky breath. “Give me some time, Alya. I promise one day I will tell you everything. As soon as I get used to you no longer being Little ‘Lina.” Your voice is teasing as you stop speaking. 

“You promise?” Alina asks, voice serious.

“On my life, Alya.”

“Could you tell me something tonight? Just one thing, something small?”

“All of it is dark, love, none of it would make a good bedtime story.”

“Please? One of the stories behind your scars. I won’t ask again if you tell me now. You owe me this much.”

You sigh and give in. “Don’t complain to me when you have nightmares.” 

“I won’t,” She promises.

“When I was 16 and Ana Kuya was getting ready to kick me out, I started looking for more jobs so I could save up some. Before that, I mostly took easier jobs, stealing or spying. A lot of the time I just picked pockets. I’ve always been quick on my feet and good at getting in and out of tough spots. When I went to see a man about a real underground sort of job, I think he gave me something impossible on purpose. I don’t why, maybe the man who hired me saw a little girl, still naive in the ways of the world and he wanted to shatter that innocence. It doesn’t matter anyway. I was told to assist in retrieving some cargo, I was given a location and time to meet. It was supposed to be a simple job so I agreed. 

“But it wasn’t cargo, it was people. Three Grisha, a mother and her two children. I think they were going to be sold to Shu Han and Keramzin was just a stop on the way. They were all filthy and bruised. They couldn’t summon because of those bars that separate the hands. I couldn’t do it, Alina. I tried to get them out. Took off their manacles and everything, but the mother was too weak to run and the slavers heard us. That’s where I got the scar on my right shoulder, a gunshot wound.”

“What happened to the Grisha?”

“I think the kids got out. The oldest daughter was somewhere around my age, her little brother was much younger.”

“And the mother?”

“She didn’t make it.” You leave out the part where she had used her body as a shield to protect you and her children from the bullets the slavers fired. Most of them anyway. To those men, Grisha were better off dead than free. “I killed several of the slavers, most of them never saw my face, but the original man who had hired me, he knew my name and what I looked like. I killed him and took my payment. That’s why I’ve had to go further for work since aging out.” You chuckle. “I burnt most of the bridges in Keramzin.”

“I think I remember when you came back from that. You favored your shoulder for weeks and there was this empty look on your face when you thought we weren’t watching. Was that the first time you killed someone?”

“No, it was not.” You are glad when she doesn’t push you any farther.

“Thank you for telling me, sestra,” Alina whispers.

“You’re welcome, malen’kiy.”

“I love you, Katya.”

“I love you too.”

*******

Your dreams are never a safe place. They are the one place you struggle to defend yourself. The one place your memories can haunt you without fail.

“The best way to take down the Fold would be to burn the Sankta. If we do it slowly enough, it should be painful and last long enough to release all her light.”

“I still say exsanguination is the way to go to bleed out her power.”

“And I say we toss her into the Fold and let the volcra do it for us.”

Men, self reportedly Saintly men, were discussing the best way to sacrifice your sister to tear down the Fold. You stood there in the darkness, horrified as they kept listing new ideas. What was the best way to break down the Sun Summoner? How can they put her through the most pain to release the most power? How can they make it a spectacle worthy of the Saints?

In reality, when you had heard those words, you slaughtered the entire room in a flurry of shadows and knives. You had emerged dripping with blood, none of it yours, shaking with the strength it took to keep your shadows out of sight now that you no longer needed them. Sometimes they acted like they had a mind of their own, and that night they had been very, very angry alongside you.

In your dreams, however, you were frozen in those shadows, forced to listen to their plans before your dream would change and you would watch your sister die in a thousand different ways.

You had practice waking yourself up at night, and you are grateful for that tonight as you wrench yourself from the grasps of your dream. Your skin shines with a cold sweat and your clothes stick to your skin. From your spot on the floor, you can see your shadows flicking in anxiety under Alina’s bed. Clenching your fist, you direct them to dissipate. 

You rise and dress swiftly, before slipping out the window and scaling down the wall to get some air. The new guards the Darkling had posted there since you first broke in are startled, but hesitantly allow you to walk the grounds alone. The sky is clear tonight, the moon bright and the stars beautiful.

You find a clean looking patch of snow near the lake and lie flat, looking up at the twinkling lights to ground yourself. Digging your fingers into the ice, you breathe deeply. You aren’t panicking. You aren’t. You are just reorienting yourself after a vivid dream. You aren’t thinking about how much danger your baby sister is in. You aren’t thinking about how much you’ve hid from her. You aren’t cracking under the pressure of keeping her safe. You aren’t.

The soft crunch of soft snow notifies you of another’s presence just before they speak.

“Couldn’t sleep?” The Darkling asks. 

“Obviously not,” you snap.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Save it for Alina, Darkling. Is there a reason you’re out here?”

“Some very concerned guards told me you had snuck out. They weren’t sure if they should retrieve you or not.”

“Snitches.” Of course they had told him, it was likely just as much their job to report on you and Alina as it was to protect her.

“It is their job to keep the Sun Summoner safe. You coming and going at all hours of the night is unsettling for them.” You could swear there is humor in his tone.

“I’ll show them unsettling,” you grumble, refusing to stop looking at the stars.

“I’ve looked into you, you know.”

“I’m sure you have. And what’ve you found in a day’s time?”

“I found stories of a woman covered in blood carving her way up and down Ravka. Some say she appears out of thin air like a vengeful spirit.”

“And what does this have to do with me?”

“I wasn’t finished.”

“Go on then.”

“This spirit only hunts at night, killing those who are unfaithful to Sankta Alina.”

You hiss, “She’s a child, not a Saint.”

“I do not disagree with you, Ms. Starkov. But it doesn’t matter what you and I think at this point. The church has already taken the title and spread it. Will you not look at me while I’m speaking to you?” A touch of annoyance in the question.

“No.”

The General sighs but continues. “When you said you would keep your sister safe, I will admit I had not realized the lengths you went to in order to do so.”

“After our sparring session today, did you really still think I wasn’t serious?”

“You do realize that the number of Soldat Sol and church leaders you have killed could brand you a heretic.”

“You worried I’m gunning for your ancestor’s title?” You quip with a grin.

“Perhaps.” His tone is unreadable so you sit up and turn towards him. His face is darkly curious and slightly red from the cold.

“I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe. I’ve told you that. Do you believe me now?”

“I never doubted your conviction, Ms. Starkov, only your capability.”

“Well fuck you too,” you mutter. “Anything else you want to say to me, Shadowman?”

“Not tonight.”

“This has been a lovely chat, but I’m going to head back to bed.”

“Sweet dreams, Ms. Starkov.”

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[hiraeth-witch-11]

The Greed of Men Series List

Ever since you had chosen young Alina and Malyen as your new family, you had done your best to protect them from the harsh reality of the world you all live in. Maybe you had sheltered them too much. Maybe you should have been honest with them about your power and your past from the beginning. Maybe then you wouldn't be forced to chose between them and the good of Ravka.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Orphan of Shadows Chapter 1

Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!Reader

Word Count: 1016

Summary: An orphan in East Ravka, you discover that you are a grisha with abilities that aren’t exactly normal. In order to keep from being discovered, you have to leave.

Note: New 10k (10 chapters, a thousand-ish words each). Add a shadow summoner to the crows with a splash of romance with one Kaz Brekker and a dash of secret powers trope. It’ll take a bit before Kaz himself shows up so I can set up this AU, but he’ll show up in chapter 3

You learned about grisha in the orphanage you called home when you were little, too little to be tested according to the Second Army’s rules. When you were older, you would realize that the age thing was likely because no one in any sort of army wanted to deal with raising children, especially toddlers with magical abilities, but until then you simply assumed it was because little kids didn’t have their powers yet. That aside, before any of the little orphans you lived with displayed any whisper of the power that might lurk in their veins, you were taught about grisha and their abilities. Children being children with their overactive imaginations, many you knew fantasized what it would be like to be one type of grisha or another.

Etherealki were by far the most popular. After all, who wouldn’t want to dance with fire or summon the wind to blow on hot soup for you?

A few of the kinder-hearted souls wanted to be Corporalki, healers specifically since children--even orphans--so rarely had the desire to take control of another person’s body away from them.

Of course, there were the select handful that loved to experiment with whatever they could get their hands on that fancied themselves as Materialki.

And, as you would learn is pretty customary for little children that know they will grow up to be beautiful, a handful of the more popular kids thought of themselves highly enough to believe they might be the mythical Sun Summoner, the one that would bring an end to the Fold once and for all. That, you doubted even as a child.

No one, however, wanted to be like the Black General. Everyone knew that his shadowy abilities were fearsome and powerful, but they only ran in his direct bloodline. Sons of the Black General always became the next Black General for he only ever had one heir and they were always boys. It was that way even before his ancestor stained the power forever by creating the Fold.

Yet for some reason, you always perked up a little when the topic of shadow summoners came up. Eventually, you would wonder if some deep part of you knew what you really were given the way everything developed. After all, you’d never been even the slightest bit afraid of the dark; you’d even felt comforted by it back when you’d been hiding from wolves in the woods before ever toddling into the orphanage. The dark was safe for you; the dark was where no one could see you to hurt you.

Then the day came when you were being chased by a couple boys that were the dangerous combination of bigger and older than you after the pretty (normal, your mind hissed viciously) wannabe sun summoner girls said they’d trade a kiss if they stole your necklace for them. You didn’t even know why they would want the necklace at all; it was just a scrap of bone attached to a leather cord that you’d had since before you came to the orphanage.

Initially, the boys had just been talking to you like they sometimes did, but when one of them snuck up behind you and tried to yank the cord off your neck, you knew something was wrong. So of course, you elbowed that boy in the ribs for his trouble and took off looking for a hiding place. As you hid in the barn, you begged for the saints to do something, anything that would make them leave you alone. You prayed they wouldn’t find you in your pathetic hiding place ended up being a stall in the barn where you were still plainly visible.

“Aww, where’d she go?” one of the boys whined, flabbergasting you.

You were in the open stall right next to him, how could he not see you? It was a little dark, but--You slapped your hand over your own mouth to stifle the gasp that tried to surface when you saw the unnatural way the shadows were writhing around your body, shielding you from the barn’s tiny lantern’s light.

“Boys, what are you doing in here?” one of the caretakers demanded from the doorway. 

“We were just playing!” they chorused. 

“Well enough of that. The Second Army is here early. They want to test all the children before dark, so we’d best get moving. Come along!”

You kept holding your breath until your lungs were burning and they were long gone. The grip you seemed to have on the darkness seemed to relax when your body did the same, and the shadows slunk back to the corners of the horse stall where they were supposed to be. Tentatively, you wiggled your fingers to see if you were really the one controlling them at all.

A happy little laugh bubbled out of you when they curled around your fingertips once more, but just as quickly the elation faded. Even at your young age, you knew it would only spell trouble if anyone else found out about your little trick.

Either being a shadow summoner wasn’t as rare as everyone believed, or worse, you were a child of the Black General. If that was the case, there would have to be a reason he abandoned you, right? They only ever had sons, so maybe he got rid of you because you were a girl? No. That couldn't be right. He was trying to get rid of the Fold just like all of the others; he wouldn’t be that heartless to his own child.

Then again, the Black Heretic was the one that made it in the first place, and he was a shadow summoner. Did the general abandon you because you were bad like the Heretic?

No. No matter what the situation may be, no one could find out that you were grisha. But with the Second Army here to test it . . .

Your young mind realized then what you would have to do. You would hide until nightfall, then you in all your eight-year-old capabilities would have to sneak out of Ravka for good.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Orphan of Shadows Chapter 4

Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!Reader

Word Count: 1130

Summary: A botched job leads Kaz to finding out more than you wanted.

After that nerve-wracking conversation at the tailor’s, you decided that you deserved a night out, so you paid a quick visit to the Crow Club to see if anyone interesting was around. You seemed to be in luck because as soon as you entered the building, your eyes landed on Jesper Fahey at one of his usual gambling tables.

As soon as you were within earshot you asked, “They still let you in here?”

“I made a deal with the guy that runs the place,” came his automatic, breezy reply and easy smile. “Rough day, sweetheart?”

“New landlord showed up at work today. Had a lovely, stressful conversation about whether or not I’m gonna sell out the Dregs.”

He laughed a little despite you stealing and drowning his drink. “That sounds like Kaz. Suave, cane, icy glare to freeze your soul?”

You pointed at Jesper defeatedly. “That’s him.”

Another chuckle. “If he’s your landlord, you’ll be fine. He won’t screw you over without reason like Pekka would.”

“Tell that to the favor I now owe him.”

Jesper waved his hand carelessly. “I wouldn’t worry too much. He’s got something like that on me, too.”

“No, I’d bet my coat that he has your debts over you for a lot more than just a single favor.”

“You’d win that bet,” Kaz’s cool voice spoke from across the card table. There was a deck of cards in his gloved hands; you wondered when he switched places with the dealer.

“Good.” Your tone was blessedly level as you stared at him and said, “I’m rather fond of this jacket.”

“I’d imagine so.”

You held his gaze for a moment more before glancing at Jesper; you elected not to analyze why he was smirking at you like that. “I’ll see you later, Jes. I should be getting home.”

“I’ll escort you,” Kaz volunteered, taking up his cane after putting down the cards he’d been fiddling with.

Jesper coughed like he just inhaled his drink, but you didn’t look to check on him.

“That’s not necessary.”

“I was heading home myself, anyway.” At your bewildered expression, he elaborated, “Didn’t you know? I moved into the room next to yours two days ago. We’re neighbors.”

Your jaw clenched. “Wonderful.” You adjusted the totally-fake-kefta and set off.

Over the short journey home, you resolutely said nothing, so the walk--while brief--was wildly uncomfortable. The only sounds originating from the pair of you were the rustles coming from your clothing and the slightly off rhythm of his gait.

It wasn’t until your key was in the doorknob that he spoke again. “I’m calling in that favor next week.”

Your eyes slid closed in your annoyance. Shadows threatened to grow out of the corners of the room, but you mentally clamped down on your powers to keep them under control. “Already?” You didn’t look away from your door.

“It is sooner than I anticipated, but it can’t be avoided.”

“And what, exactly, will I be doing?”

“You’ll be on a job. With me,” was all he said before vanishing into his own room.

~

The breath left your lungs as you slammed your body back against the brick wall in some damp alley deep in the Barrel. “I--am going--to kill you,” you wheezed the threat.

“Later,” Kaz panted, equally out of breath.

Apparently, his usual crew of Jesper and Inej were across the city on a different job, which was why he dragged you on this one. From what you gathered, he needed to pinch some documents out of someone’s safe, and this was the only chance to do so. You were the distraction, because of course you were, right up until the point where the guard glanced behind him at the exact moment Kaz was sneaking back out of the building. The pair of you had been running from the guys with guns for the last half hour, and you were beginning to tire to a dangerous degree. 

You groaned, letting your head fall back against the wall. “Kaz, I’m gonna need you to trust me for a minute.”

“What?”

The pounding feet of a rival gang’s grunts were getting closer.

“Listen, you dragged me here so you can at least trust me for the next few moments.”

His eyes narrowed.

And closer.

“You can’t tell me you wanted me with you just to be a distraction.”

“You’re grisha,” was his immediate reply. There was no doubt in his tone.

“Shocking revelation, I know, but I’m gonna need you to close your eyes now that we’re done dancing around the subject of my status as a grisha.”

And closer.

“Why--”

“Damn it, Kaz! Don’t argue with me! We’re running out of time!”

Those angry men with their very real guns rounded the corner just as Kaz’s whiskey-brown eyes finally slid closed. In that exact moment, you threw your body (and therefore bulletproof kefta) in front of Kaz to shield him from both the bullets and potentially the sight of what you did next if he opened those eyes.

You ignored the shouts of ‘Don’t move!’ as you raised your hands to fully wield your powers for the first time in your life. The men started screaming in fear as the alley grew infinitely darker; then those screams were swallowed up by the midnight black shadows that slithered down their throats instead of air.

When you finally let light back into the alley, there were six bodies on the cobblestone road all blue in the face from suffocating, and all of those blue faces were frozen in terrified, mute screams.

Leaning back against the wall, you slid down until you were sitting. “You can look again.”

Kaz’s eyes snapped open, his mouth following their example the instant he saw the corpses before you. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he studied the scene. “You’re a squaller?” he guessed. It was obvious that he was still trying to figure out why you made him shut his eyes.

You just stared back at him, praying he wouldn’t read much deeper and figure out the truth. At least healers, heartrenders, and squallers were also capable of suffocating a room full of people like this. “Are we even now?”

“You said you wouldn’t kill for the favor.”

“I said I wouldn’t kill for the Dregs. This was to protect myself.” You told yourself that the fact that you were still curious about this man played no part in you saving his life.

The pair of you just stared at each other for a moment, neither verbally acknowledging the way you’d bodily protected him.

“Besides,” you shrugged, picking a stray pebble out of your kefta’s embroidery, “the next landlord might be worse for all I know.”

To that, Kaz just snorted.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Orphan of Shadows Chapter 3

Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!Reader

Word Count: 1056

Summary: Life in Ketterdam and meeting a stranger with a cane

Life in Ketterdam was . . . hard, far harder than the Suli had led you to believe, but getting there was leagues easier than you’d thought. By offering to help a ship’s cook--and because you were a small child instead of a mangy teen begging for passage--you’d managed to secure passage to the Kerch city without even having to trade the overlarge kefta you’d grown quite attached to. The coat had rarely left your injured shoulders since you’d stolen it, so between how dirty the thing had become and the impossibility that a little girl would have a real kefta stolen from the Darkling, no one commented or attempted to steal the thing.

So you’d arrived in one piece (mostly healed from your foray across the Fold), snuck away from the crew of the ship before they could get any ideas about what to do with you in a place like Ketterdam like the cook warned you to, and set to work establishing a home in the Barrel. With your stolen funds and ‘rare’ items from East Ravka, you paid for a room in a place called the Slat for the next few months; it seemed no one in these parts cared enough to bat an eye about yet another orphan needing a home due to the plague that recently burned through the city.

Somehow, you found work in a nearby tailor’s shop. The shopkeep was apparently getting on in years and needed someone to do the tedious, often stabby, work of hand-picking unwanted embroidery out of the local prostitutes’ dresses. She could get away with paying such a young girl next to nothing, so the job was yours.

Years passed with you barely squeaking by, but you made damn sure that your boss never found any reason to be upset with you because you quickly realized how sought-after a job like yours was in the Barrel. Gangs were the only other real option around for employment, offering pay to those who were willing to work more . . . outside the law, but you steered clear of all gangs but the Dregs. That particular gang apparently ran the Slat as well as the usual bar you haunted when you wanted to get out of the house, the Crow Club, so you made friends with a few of its members rather quickly.

Then one day not long after you turned fifteen, a new face strolled through the door of the tailor’s shop. He was, in a word, beautiful. Sleek, black hair, slightly shadowed brown eyes, a well-fitted suit, and an expensive-looking cane tucked into his hand. Those eyes were cold and calculating when they landed on you after studying the shop for a moment.

“Hello, can I help you?” you greeted pleasantly. 

“You’re the one that’s rented a room in the Slat for the last few years, correct?”

Not the type of question you’d expected to be asked in the slightest, at least not while working. “What’s it to you?”

That calculating glint in those coffee brown eyes turned the slightest bit amused. “As the new owner, I thought it would be wise to know my tenants.”

Your eyes widened. Nervously, you wiped your palms on your apron--hoping there was no residual blood on them from varios pinpricks--before offering one of them along with your name. After a moment of him just staring at it, you slowly retracted the appendage and asked instead, “This you telling me to get my shit and get lost, then?”

His gaze landed on the coat hook behind you. “That’s the Black General’s kefta.”

“A copy,” you lied. To most, it would have been believable, but you could see that he was absolutely not buying it. “Something I acquired when I was little and first came here.”

“Now why would a young girl do that? General Kirigan is a strange person for a child to idolize.”

You shrugged. Truth mixed with lies were always the best way to talk your way out of something, you’d learned. “I’m from East Ravka. Came over when I was eight, and it reminded me of home.” At your feet under the desk, your shadow squirmed slightly out of its usual shape with your discomfort; hopefully, he wouldn’t notice that little detail from where he was standing. “Who doesn’t want to be a grisha at that age after a trip like that?”

“And you've kept it this long?”

“It’s warm.” You knew your gaze was challenging, but like hell would you give up your secrets without a fight.

A cruel smirk formed on his handsome face. “To your earlier question, no. You are not being evicted so long as you keep paying on time. The deal is the deal, and a contract is a contract even if it was the previous owner is the one that made it.”

“The deal is the deal,” you parroted quietly, voice borderline breathy with relief. Then your curiosity got the better of you. “Then why are you here?”

“The Dregs do a fair bit of work in the Slat,” he said plainly, both hands folding over the top of his cane. “Either I need insurance that you know how to keep your mouth shut, or we need to come to some other agreement.”

You crossed your arms. “The Dregs have always been good to me; I’ve no interest in selling them out. I won’t join, but you have my word that I know how to keep quiet.”

“What good to me is the word of a girl I don’t trust?”

You swallowed nervously. Yeah, you really should have seen that coming.

Seeming to expect that reaction, he suggested, “Given your record so far, I’ll bargain with you. What do you say?”

“I say, ‘What is the bargain?’”

“Smart girl. We will both continue exactly as we have been, but you will owe me. One favor of my choosing to be used at any time.”

Your eyes narrowed. Something that open-ended wasn’t something you liked agreeing to, but honestly there wasn’t much you were unwilling to do as long as you got to keep living your life freely. “I won’t kill for the Dregs.”

He nodded calmly. “Do we have an accord?”

“The deal is the deal.”

It was only as you were heading home for the night that you realized you never got his name.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Orphan of Shadows Chapter 7

Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!Reader

Word Count: 1406

Summary: The trip from Ketterdam across the Fold brings up some bad memories. Kaz has . . . feelings.

The process of traveling to the Little Palace was something that you could only describe as nightmarish. Literally, in some aspects.

It all started with Inej’s heartfelt goodbye coupled with Jesper’s over-the-top hugs and jokes about how you would soon be the owner of the Slat as well as your little tailor shop because ‘Who else would Kaz leave it to?’ To that, you’d only been able to stare, heart pounding out of your chest at losing your closest friends the same way you’d almost died as a child. And they weren’t kids. There was no way for them to rely on the kindness of strangers to see them to safety. If they were lost to the Fold they’d simply disappear. You’d likely be the only person to know what happened; yet, even you wouldn’t know what happened.

But what really grinded your gears was the look that Kaz had given you whilst saying his own farewell. His face was tense, eyes tight, almost like he . . . regretted something. The fact that he’d asked you to play backup for them now that he saw the fear that was so clearly displayed on your face? You doubted it. Still, you didn’t miss the way his ears turned the slightest bit pink when Jesper teased, “Relax, boss, she’ll be waiting right here for you when we get back. Just like always.”

“I want you to have this,” Inej had said just before slipping onto their boat. She handed you an unmarked knife of hers, one without a saint etched into it. “I picked it out for you to have . . . just in case.”

It was beautiful, you’d realize later. A simplistic marvel of blackened steel for the blade and an intricate silver hilt.

“I wanted it to match your coat; the one you always wear.” She didn’t call it a kefta because she didn’t know that it wasn’t simply a replica. There was so much you hadn’t told them, and still she was worried about you despite the suicidal trip she was about to embark on.

“Be safe,” you pleaded. Those were your last words to her. To Kaz, you just gave a solemn nod as Jesper chattered at him.

Then there was the trip across the True Sea where you were left alone on a ship bound for Ravka that left only a few hours after your friends. The journey was only difficult on your mind--every night you fell asleep with the thought that you were headed for death; you escaped the fold once, surely it would take its due this time around?--and not your body since you were largely left alone. Mostly, that leg of the trip was just boring. Exactly once did a man try to get a bit too friendly with you, and you’d swiftly put an end to that by delivering a lovely little cut to his jugular with Inej’s gift.

Once on land again, the trip to Novokribirsk consisted of you being skittish of every single person who crossed your path. You knew it was nothing but paranoia, but still your worries lingered. There was no one in this entire country that could recognize you as that child from so long ago, and your well-worn but easily recognizable, stolen kefta was balled up and shoved into the bottom of your pack where no one could see it. You’d only brought it as a safety blanket, something to be pulled out in case you ended up in a fight . . . or if you needed its presence as a comfort.

Without it, your shirt’s sleeve occasionally rode up, revealing your Dregs tattoo. But again. There was no one in this country that would know what it meant. To these people, you were just another traveler, not a shadow summoner/gangster in some far away city.

And then came the night you stayed in a little inn down the road from both your friends and the looming presence of the Fold itself. You found yourself unable to sleep. The Fold’s writhing mass tickled the back of your mind like an itch you couldn’t scratch, and it just wouldn’t stop squirming despite how much you tried to shield yourself from it. You’d tried putting your pillow over your head, closing your eyes, hands on your ears, everything but still the feeling lingered.

It was because you were so wrapped up in trying not to lose your mind to the Fold’s dark whispering that you failed to notice the quiet scratching at your door that indicated your approaching guest until Kaz’s nervous voice called your name.

All at once, your attention snapped onto your friend. Your hands were still clamped around your ears, knees to your chest as you asked, “Kaz?”

His dark eyes looked around the room warily before honing back in on you and studying the sight before him. Any other time, you’d be embarrassed about your current state of undress, but right now you could’t bring yourself to care about anything more than the distraction his presence brought you. When he looked pointedly at the floor, you followed his gaze. Only then did you realize the way your shadow--not the room’s various shadows, those were squirming in a mirror image of the Fold’s all-encompassing darkness, but yours, the one that always felt different, the one you could sometimes feel things through like a ghostly limb--was winding its way around Kaz’s legs threateningly like a sea monster’s tentacles.

“Sorry,” you apologized meekly, retracting the shadows carefully.

There was a long silence where he just looked at you while you pointedly refused to return the favor. It’d been years since you lost control to that degree; yet one day near the Fold and you were already falling to pieces.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“I can handle it,” you argued despite the way you were still curled around yourself..

“Can you?” He moved to sit at the foot of your bed facing you. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort you. He ached with that desire and could feel his skin tingle at the thought of it brushing you, but simultaneously he felt the familiar nausea curling in his stomach at the thought. But there was no way for you to know all that.

You finally met his gaze again, fire in your eyes as your hands slipped down to rest on your knees. “Yes. Once we’re through the Fold . . . I can handle it.”

“And if we run into him? What then?”

“Then we learn who’s the stronger grisha.” Spite filled your voice with more confidence than you felt. You would not fall in this country. You wouldn’t. “What’s the plan for tomorrow? I assume that’s why you’re here.”

The plan was a simple one: the Conductor would sneak you onboard in the morning, the Crows would follow later, once across you’d sneak off well after they left. Simple. Straight forward.

But then Jesper didn’t get enough coal.

Then the volcra came, their screams ripping through your ears just like they had all those years ago, the same screams that you still heard in your nightmares on particularly bad nights. They were every bit as haunting, too. Terrified, you kept yourself wrapped in shadows as tightly as you could throughout the ordeal.

And then he came through. Jesper, beautiful, vibrant, perfect Jesper that came through in style to save all your lives with his trademark impossible shots. You didn’t even have to see it to know that it was glorious. You could tell by the sound of the gunfire.

Then it was over, and the silence rang in your ears the same way that it did so many years ago. You were out of the Fold’s suffocating grip. You survived again. You had half a mind to follow the Ravkan tradition and scar up your arm to mark the success, but the sane part of you knew how stupid it was to make your history so obvious for the world to see. Instead, you simply rubbed the Dregs tattoo with your thumb. It meant more to you anyway, the reminder of your friends, of Kaz.

“Now to get into the Little Palace,” you heard Kaz say in a voice far too calm for what you all just went through. 

“Oh, that’ll be easy,” came Jesper’s exasperated tone.

“Jes . . .” that was Inej, pacifying the pair as always.

Saints, you’d missed them.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Orphan of Shadows Chapter 9

Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!Reader

Word Count: 1911

Summary: Realizations, realizations, realizations . . .

In the brief moment you saw Kaz as he delivered your evening meal while posing as a guard, you found out that Jesper, too, had seen Alina, meaning that all of the Crows were on the same page. It saved you the trouble of trying to describe her, so you nodded, pleased.

“What does the security situation outside my room look like?” you asked, picking through the food on the tray. It didn’t escape your notice that the fruit laid out as a side consisted of your favorites. Was it just a  coincidence? Unlikely, given the scarcity of Kerch produce in East Ravka. Meaning Kaz had to have . . .

“Two guards posted,” he replied, cutting off your thought process. “Allegedly, the Sun Summoner’s rooms are down the hall, so their attention is mostly focused there.”

Since this was supposed to be a simple food delivery, time was running short. You elected not to ask too many questions. Instead, you announced, “I’ll make my escape during the fête, then.”

“Jesper is securing our ride out of here; meet him in the stables.”

“I thought we were keeping my presence a secret.”

“Once we have her, we’ll either not need the backup plan at all or we’ll need you present, so meet him there.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

To be blunt, Kaz looked as surprised at you that he asked that question; again, you chose not to comment. Instead, you simply replied, “A scratch, nothing more. He doesn’t know what I am.”

“Good.” And he was gone, leaving so many questions in his wake.

That was such a strangely intimate question from Kaz Brekker of all people that you couldn’t help but wonder what it meant as you ate. Too many little moments like that were happening as of late. Was it possible that he too was feeling the same things that you were so pointedly not putting a name to?

The wall slamming open to reveal a guard you didn’t recognize standing in a secret passageway abruptly ended those musings.

“What the--”

“Come with me willingly or I’ll knock you out and make you,” she interrupted you.

You narrowed your eyes. “Where are you taking me?” you demanded even as you followed her into the dark passageway. Because of the single candle lantern she carried, the pair of you could hardly see. For most, this would be a disadvantage, but for you, it gave you a distinct edge. That edge soothed your nerves the tiniest bit. Abruptly, the walls opened up into what you thought was a room rather than a hallway.

“I wanted to have a word with you in private,” came a new voice from the darkness in front of you just beyond the lantern’s reach, “now that I’ve removed one weapon from the general’s hands. I can’t have him trading one for another.” An old woman stepped into view.

You couldn’t help but notice that she seemed to share some of her features with Kirigan. Related, perhaps? “I’m no one’s weapon,” you argued verbally if only to keep her talking until you had an escape plan.

“That’s not what it sounded like when you were chatting with that man masquerading as a guard that brought you your supper.”

Anger mixed with no small amount of fear washed over you. Kaz’s cover was blown. “That’s none of your business,” you snarled.

“It became my business when a grisha of unknown power showed up on my son’s doorstep to Saints only know what end.”

“You’re Aleksander’s mother?” Well, at least your observational skills were still up to par.

She scoffed. “Told you his name already, did he? Tell me, did he make you feel special?”

“Is this going somewhere?” Annoyed, that’s what you were feeling. Her patronizing tone reminded you far too much the few times you had to be in the same room as Pekka Rollins.

“Did he tell you were a clever little girl because you managed to keep your powers a secret from even him?”

“Not particularly.” Still, you could feel your temper spiking. As if you’d be so easily wooed by the handsome general just because he saved your life, as if you didn’t already have K--as if you didn’t have friends back home.

“What about the fact that he let you keep his precious kefta? That’s something no one else can claim; that was bound to get him into your good graces, after all.”

“Are you quite finished?” you demanded, arms crossed. “Saints, and I thought he had a shit poker face. I came here to thank him for saving my life all those years ago. Nothing more.”

Shadows started curling at the edge of the lantern’s halo of light, and you knew for certain that you weren’t the one causing it.

“You’re a shadow summoner,” you stated bluntly, eyes firmly locked onto hers. It made little sense; that power should have come from his father, the previous Black General. There was no reason for her to be like you. Still, you had places to be, so you resolved to ponder the possible implications later.

“Since we’re sharing secrets, why don’t you tell me yours?” She had an infuriatingly smug smile splitting her face.

Still you debated it, fingers tracing the feathers of your Dregs tattoo as you did so. “Have your dog fetch me my things, and I’ll show you.” You needed go get gone already, and telling this woman seemed to be the fastest way to accomplish that. Besides, considering that no one ever so much as whispered that Aleksander’s mother was also a shadow summoner, she knew how to keep a secret.

You raised an eyebrow as you made your shadow move without your body doing anything to prompt it. It separated from the wall to loom over you menacingly, peeling away like some sort of terrifying poster come to life.

“You’re a shadow summoner . . .” she breathed in seemingly genuine shock. “And you . . . How did you--No. You must be--”

“Uh-uh. If you’re about to start speculating about my family, I’m not interested. I’m an orphan. I’ve got all the family I need already.”

“That’s just as well,” she uttered, not entirely paying attention to you as she mumbled. “The relation wouldn’t be close, anyway; the descendent of my sister that somehow managed to inherit this specific power.”

“Still don’t care,” you informed her while swiping your belongings from her pet guard. “Are you going to let me leave since you don’t want me near your son?” Your shadow swelled in size threateningly. “Or is this about to get ugly?”

“When you leave, go back to whatever hole you crawled out of and never look back.”

“I’m never coming back to this fucking country if I can help it,” you swore. 

She nodded, eyes still trained on you. “Follow the right path; it’ll lead you to the stables.”

You returned the nod before darting off down the path. 

~

“Go ahead, ask me where the target is,” Jesper was teasing as you snuck up to the pitch black carriage.

You could see the tenseness in every part of Kaz’s body ease when you spoke up, “Okay, Jes, where’s the target?”

“There you are,” Kaz breathed.

“What are you doing here?!” Jesper shrieked as you climbed into the coach next to Kaz.

“Answers later, Jes,” Inej whispered, eyes darting around to make sure he hadn’t drawn any one’s attention. She sounded just as confused as the gunslinger, to be honest. “Get us out of here.”

~

“You!” Alina hissed as soon as she laid eyes on you once she’d clambered out of the chest. “You’re with them?!”

You shrugged. “I told you I’d see you again.”

“But you’re grisha!”

“Would you rather I be with the general?” Seemingly, Alina had no answer for that based on her silence. “Thought not. Now, we can help you out of here,” you started.

Kaz finished, “And work something out that’ll help both of us.”

“I’m through being anyone’s captive,” she snarled before promptly blinding the whole group with her light. Reflexively, you shielded your eyes and Kaz’s with your shadows to prevent whatever damage you could. You assumed the move didn’t go unnoticed since she followed up the attack with an indignant shout of, “You’re like them!” before taking off.

You banished your shadows back to their usual places as quickly as you could, hoping the others didn’t see.

Jesper was rubbing at his eyes when he asked, “What did--”

“Later,” Kaz snapped. “Find her.”

~

“So what are you doing here?” Inej asked once Alina had well and truly given all of you the slip.

“I asked her to come so we’d have a backup plan.”

“Fat lot of good that did us,” you scoffed after taking a drink.

It was impressive how quickly the flush bloomed on Kaz’s pale cheeks when Jesper teased, “You didn’t want to miss her, so you asked her to come along?”

You tapped your boot against Kaz’s, hoping the familiar gesture would comfort him at least slightly. “Leave it please, Jes,” you requested. If there were feelings between the two of you like the signs seemed to indicate, you wanted to figure out what they were before catching flak from the others. 

“So what did Alina mean when she said you’re like them?” Inej asked to change the subject.

Now you found yourself looking to Kaz for comfort which was a strange state of being to be in, to be sure. He nodded minutely and rested his boot against yours instead of the usual nudge before saying, “That is something we can discuss once we get back to Ketterdam.”

“So you know whatever it is?” she questioned, clearly looking for the affirmation that you weren’t about to turn traitor or something. It hurt a little, knowing she thought you capable of such a thing, but you understood her wariness given her past. 

Again, he nodded, this time to her. “I’ve known for quite a while.”

“Okay.” Her dark eyes locked onto yours. They were filled with fondness and sincerity as she said, “I trust you.”

“Yeah, so do I,” Jesper echoed.

“Thanks, guys.”

~

You’d been nervous when the group had to split up to handle the various people that the Darkling sent after you. You’d been terrified when it was only a pair of otkazat’sya chased after you. Why couldn’t it have been the heartrender? you thought to yourself at the time. You had the most powerful skillset for dealing with a group of people, and yet two people without powers were the ones that chased you. 

You became absolutely, heart-stoppingly terrified once you’d snuck down an alley and dealt with them because you realized by process of elimination that General Aleksander Kirigan was the one that had gone after Kaz and not one of the other grisha. You were almost frantic as you sprinted through the town looking for Kaz. Your shadow reached out in front of you with every step like it could find him before you did, but you didn’t reign it in; you couldn’t spare the energy. You had to save the man that you loved.

Immediately upon thinking that, you tripped, and it took all of your willpower to stay on your feet and keep moving forward. It was fine to admit it, at least mentally. You loved him. You loved Kaz Brekker.

Now you just had to find him before the Black General killed him.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Orphan of Shadows Chapter 8

Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!Reader

Word Count: 1507

Summary: Getting into the Little Palace via . . . unconventional ways.

When Kaz explained to you how the lot of them would be sneaking into the fête, you wanted to grab him by the jacket and shake him vigorously while screaming, “Of course the Little Palace is impregnable, you fucking idiot! What did you expect?!” But you didn’t

So they’ll be sneaking in with the entertainers, your mind whirled as it schemed. How am I going to swing it?

The idea that struck you like a lightning bolt sent your heart straight down your body through your boots. “Son of a bitch . . .” you muttered, eyes sliding shut for a moment in your exasperation.

“What?” Kaz asked immediately.

The pair of you were in a small pub clear across Kribirsk from where Jesper and Inej were currently training with the group would be smuggling them in, so you had to keep your voices down due to the public nature of the location. Meaning the pair of you were sitting quite close together to prevent being overheard, and you were all too aware of how close the pair of you were even with the inches of physical separation that Kaz needed.

“I have to go to the gates and tell them I’m grisha.” Your heart was pounding, but whether it was from that thought or being around Kaz, you were uncertain.

His dark eyebrows furrowed. “Is that not exactly what we’re trying to prevent?”

“What other options do we have, Kaz?” you snapped.

To that, he seemingly had no answer since he said nothing. His lips pursed unhappily as his hand tightened on his cane.

“Now that we are across the Fold, they’ll likely take me straight to the General since I’ve managed to avoid joining the Second Army for so long.”

“And then what? He finds out what you are and I-- . . . we never see you again?”

Your pounding heart gave a funny little lurch at what he almost said, but you quickly clamped down on that runaway thought. That was a hope you couldn’t afford yourself to have, especially in the midst of this mess of a job. “I’m recognizable, Kaz,” you argued with a wave at the scars on your face, “and I have his kefta.” You took a deep breath. “I know how to circumvent whatever test they may put me through, keep them from finding out the truth. All I have to do is say I learned how to control it on my own and just came to thank him for saving me.”

“They’ll force you to join the Second Army even if they only know you’re grisha.”

“And that’s how I’ll be in the Palace for the fête.”

“And how are you planning to leave? You’ve run from him once. Do you really expect him to let you go again?”

You shrugged. “I’ve picked up a few things back home that I doubt the good people of East Ravka will expect; I’m sure I can manage. Besides, you’re already stealing the Sun Summoner; a piddly shadow summoner should be easy after that.” Doubt curled in your stomach. “. . . Assuming you’ll come after me, that is.”

“Of course I would,” he swore, eyes burning in intensity. “I will not leave you there.”

“Thank you.”

A harsh breath left his nose. He moved to stand. “Be careful.”

You scoffed. “You’re the one going face-first into a kidnapping. You be careful.”

~

“State your business,” came the bored voice from the booth at the gates of the Little Palace, the gate on the opposite side of Os Alta from where they were letting the entertainers in.

“I’m grisha,” you announced, voice blessedly steady.

A face appeared as the, apparently durast based off their kefta, attendant slid open the service window. “Awful old to be just figuring it out, aren’t ya?”

You clenched your jaw in annoyance. “I ran away.”

“Well . . . prove it, go on.”

“No.”

They barked a laugh. “Then I’m not letting you in.”

Before they could slam the window shut in your face, you called, “I know the general!”

They paused, staring at you.

You pulled the kefta’s sleeve out of your bag just enough to show off the embroidery. Immediately, their eyes widened at the sight. You casually said, “I also have something of his, as you might notice.”

“That’s--”

“Real? Tell me something I don’t know. I’ve gotten shot more than a few times while wearing that.”

“How--”

“Just go tell the general I’m here. Make sure to include the scars in your description of me; they’re from volcra.”

They nodded dumbly before scampering off, leaving you anxiously awaiting your fate.

You took to counting the number of bricks making up the wall around the Little Palace to kill time. You were up to 189 when a pair of guards in black opened the gate. “Follow us,” one ordered coldly, not waiting for your response before marching off.

The room they led you to was grander than any you’d set foot in when not on a job in specific parts of Ketterdam. Of course it was. While little, this was still a Palace, after all, so you weren’t too surprised at the unnecessary grandeur. High ceilings and marble floors were stunning, but none of the room’s details gave hint to what, exactly, the room was used for. Still, the filigree alone would have fetched a fortune back home.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

You whipped around to lay eyes on your savior for the first time in years. “It is.” This man may have been your hero once upon a time, but you weren’t foolish enough to think that he was a good man so you kept your tone clipped.

His grey eyes focused on your facial scars for a moment. “So it truly is you . . . I’d wondered what happened after you ran away.”

“Kids are known for doing stupid things.”

“But they often find ways to come home in the end.”

“I thought it was about time I said thank you.”

He nodded regally. “It was no trouble. I always try to help a grisha in need.”

You found yourself returning the nod slightly. “So you did know I was grisha.”

“I knew the moment I touched you. What I didn’t know is what you are capable of, so shall we find out after all these years?”

“I think I’ll pass; I know plenty about my powers already.”

“An introduction then, perhaps? A formal start to our new friendship.”

Years with Ketterdam’s most notorious criminals taught you to look for people’s tells, and the Black General wasn’t particularly good at hiding his because the curious gleam shining in his eyes was a dead giveaway that he was planning something. Still you had to play your part, so you tightened your grip on your powers and offered your hand along with your name.

When he replied with, “Aleksander,” and grasped your hand in return, you felt the same influx in power as you had that day in the Fold, but all that resulted this time was a slight darkening in the color of your shadow when he nicked your palm with his abnormally sharp ring.

An amused smirk formed on his fine features. “Your control is quite impressive.”

“You’ll find I don’t like to share my secrets casually.”

Aleksander chuckled. “I look forward to getting to know you better, then. As it stands, I'm needed in preparation for the fête. My guards will escort you to your new rooms. 

Your eyes narrowed. Though this was the expected outcome, you couldn’t say you liked it.

“And you can keep the kefta . . . At least until we know what colors you belong in.”

You gritted your teeth. “. . . Thank you.”

~

On the way to ‘your rooms’, your little group was stopped by a redhead in a white kefta and a brunette in a blue and yellow kefta.

“What’s going on here?” the brunette asked curiously. There was a lovely smile on her face from whatever conversation they were having before, but the unfamiliar embroidery color made you wary of her.

“New arrival,” Left Guard informed her. “We’re taking her to her rooms.”

“Where are they? Genya and I can take her the rest of the way for you.”

“We’re under orders from the general,” Right Guard argued.

“I’m sure he won’t mind if it’s us. I’m Alina,” she told you.

You hoped no one noticed the excited little wiggle your shadow gave before you managed to wrangle it back into place. You replied to her with your name. “I thank you for your kindness, but these two won’t let me out of their sight until I’m in my room because I wouldn’t tell the general what flavor of grisha I am.”

“Why not?” the gorgeous redhead, Genya you believed, asked.

“I want to see how far he’ll go to figure it out.” You winked. “I’ll see you later, though.”

“See you . . .” Alina said in an understandably confused tone.

Here for such a short time, and you already had a good deal of secrets to tell Kaz when you saw him next . . .

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Orphan of Shadows Chapter 5

Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!Reader

Word Count: 1875

Summary: Another botched job has you telling Kaz even more than you wanted.

Three years after that first job with Kaz, you found yourself where you never thought you’d be: seated at a table in the Crow Club with Jesper and Inej waiting for the leader of this little group. Despite your initial reservations about gang life, the extra money you could make by pulling jobs with them was a bit too good to resist. You ended up joining formally on the one year anniversary of that initial job. Mostly you were an informant for them, gathering rumors at the tailor shop you’d taken over after the old owner died, but occasionally your skills were needed in the field so you were pulled into a more active role.

Idly, you scratched at the Dregs tattoo on the inside of your forearm while Jesper and Inej chatted. Then you caught sight of Kaz approaching at last.

“You can always tell when the boss is near if you watch her face,” Jesper whispered teasingly, eyes locked on you. “What are you talking about?” you grumbled, shifting your gaze to the gunslinger.

“Nothing . . . if you ignore the way your face lights up when you see our fearless leader.”

“It’s quite adorable,” Inej added, smiling slightly in that overly-earnest way of hers.

“Crow!” Kaz barked when he was close enough. “We’ve got a job.”

~

It seemed like every single job that had you and Kaz teaming up went some flavor of sideways. That time Jes had to shoot a Dime Lion thug’s bullet out of the air before it hit you in the neck came to mind. Also that time Inej had to cut ropes off your wrists while you were under water before both of you drowned in the harbor. This time wasn’t as immediately deadly of these fucked-up jobs, but it was the most claustrophobic one by far.

Your hands were tied around your backs and the pair of you had long since been left with two guards standing outside the crypt you were locked inside after getting caught trying to steal a painting of the Fold. You didn’t appreciate that little piece of irony at all.

“Any ideas, boss?”

Kaz’s head was on a swivel as he looked around the barely lit room with squinted eyes trying to scheme his way out. “Well, my normal suggestion is that you use your powers to get us out of this, but seeing as grisha need their hands to work . . .”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Not exactly the case with me . . .” It really wasn’t sometimes. If the conditions were right, you discovered that you had the ability to manipulate your shadow without needing your hands. Best you could figure, it had something to do with the fact that you never had any formal training to tell you how to use your abilities. “But that’s not exactly what I was thinking.”

His dark eyes met yours. “Do I need to close my eyes?”

It must have seemed like a silly rule to him, having him close his eyes every time you needed to use your powers on a job, but as far as you knew, he still thought you a squaller and that’s all that mattered.

You hesitated. For some reason, for the past few years you’d wanted to tell him the truth about what you were. “We’re friends, right Kaz?” After all you’d been through together, you fucking hoped so. You didn’t want to read too deeply into the feelings and idiosyncrasies that’d developed between the two of you since you met, but yet you found yourself asking that question anyway.

Kaz’s eyebrows pinched together. He certainly wasn’t the type to admit his feelings ever, so it was bound to be a difficult question for him.

You found your eyes lingering on the planes of his handsome face and the tender moments you’d shared over the years. Times you’d checked on him after hearing him scream his way through nightmares, times Jesper dropped off soup for you when you were sick only to inform you that Kaz made him do it . . . Your gaze snapped to his when you felt the side of his boot tap against yours.

“Yes,” was all he managed to utter, but it was enough.

For a moment, all you could hear was your own ragged breathing. Slowly, you nodded. “You still got that knife in the toe of your shoe?”

Wordlessly, he tapped his heel to trigger the tiny blade to slide out of the toe of his right boot.

“Okay, raise your leg and try not to move. I don’t really want to have my wrists slit today.” You watched his jaw clench at the request. It wasn’t an easy ask for Kas given that the knife was attached to his bad leg and the dampness of the crypt you currently called home couldn’t be doing him any favors. “I trust you,” you assured him.

Blessedly, you were able to saw the rope off without getting injured, but when you turned around to look at him, your worry instantly shifted from your skin to Kaz’s wellbeing. His legs were splayed where they’d fallen the moment you moved away, and his head was tilted back with his teeth gritted in obvious pain.

“I hope you have a plan for those two, because I don’t know if I’ll be much help.” He must have been in quite a lot of pain to admit that aloud.

“First, let’s get you untied. You just sit there and look pretty.”

Easier said than done.”

You raised an eyebrow, the one with the scar that was so similar to the one that marred his face. “Don’t argue with me, Dirtyhands.” You took your time with the restraints, making sure to avoid touching the exposed sliver of pale flesh between his glove and sleeve.

As soon as he was free, Kaz’s hands were massaging his thigh. “Your plan?” he prompted in an obvious attempt to avoid talking about your blatant worry.

You sighed. “Now it’s your turn to trust me.”

He just nodded.

“Stay put.’

“That I can do.”

“Hey, shitheads!” you shouted. “Guess who forgot to check my pockets?!” you added in a singsong.

“When I tell you I’m gonna skin her alive . . .” one of them was mumbling as they came closer. 

“Don’t care if she’s Brekker’s girl or not,” the other continued threateningly.

“She’s gotta be something special in the sack if he’s kept her around for this long.”

Confused, you glanced at Kaz. You hadn’t heard about this particular rumor before.

“Dregs have a standing order to keep business well away from your shop,” Kaz shrugged. “Guess that started something.”

It sounded like it was quite a bit more than just a casual rumor based off his tone, but now wasn’t exactly the time to argue since the goons just rounded the last corner into your eyesight. “Evening,” you greeted. “I’ve been a baaaaad girl . . . Come tie me up?”

“You really think we’re stupid enough to go in there with you two?”

You shrugged. “Didn’t really expect that to work, to be honest.” You raised a hand, and the darkness that normally crowded the corners of rooms like this started growing at an exponential rate. Part of you wanted to glance back at Kaz when you heard his near-silent gasp of surprise, but the rest of you had no desire to see the look of revulsion on his face. “It was worth a shot.”

With a twitch of your outreached fingers, those shadows plunged down the guards’ throats just like years ago, filling the cell with nothing but choking sounds and water dripping until you dropped their corpses on the floor. Then there was just silence.

Your heart was pounding harder than ever when you finally turned to look at him.

“You’re a shadow summoner,” he stated simply despite the surprise clear in his eyes.

“. . . Yeah.”

Kaz nodded sharply. “Get their keys,” he instructed, limping to the far wall to grab his cane from where it was leaning against the wall.

“That’s it?”

“You had your reasons for keeping it secret; you won’t find me arguing with them if only because I’m not stupid enough to realize the risk if someone else were to find out.”

“And you don’t have any questions?” The lock clicked as you unlocked the rusted thing.

“I have a thousand questions. This just isn’t the place to discuss it, don’t you agree?”

“. . . Good point.”

~

Back in Kaz’s room, you found yourself seated across from his desk. A decanter sat between you as you shared a drink to the whole debacle you’d just gone through.

“Ask away,” you waved with your glass.

“Are you the Darkling’s daughter?”

The explosive snort of laughter that instantly left your nose was nothing short of incredulous. It was a logical question, but it was still more than a bit amusing. “No! At least, not as far as I know,” you were still giggling a bit. “I’m an orphan, just like I said; most of my history I didn’t lie about. No idea if the shadow thing is genetic or not.”

He hummed thoughtfully and started idly shuffling an old looking deck of cards; you assumed that little quirk was a way of working off some excess adrenaline from the whole getting kidnapped thing. “So that kefta . . .”

“Real,” you admitted with a wry smirk. “Ended up stealing it from the general on my way out of Ravka.”

“And you just kept it?” He was likely surprised that you hadn’t sold it or gotten him to sell it if it was genuine since it was bound to be worth a pretty penny. 

You shrugged. “It was warm. I was eight. It’s really that simple.”

“How did you come across something like that if you aren’t related to him?”

“Crossing the Fold is . . . a nightmare, to say the least. Since I was little at the time, they let me ride across in the hold so I could get to my nonexistent uncle on the other side. Volcra attacked as they are want to do.” You shivered at the phantom screams that sometimes echoed in your head. “The Darkling pulled me from the hold . . . When we were almost to Novokribirsk, I was grabbed by one of the ugly bastards. You pulled open the collar of your shirt to display one set of the deep scars that still marred your skin. 

“Looks like it hurt.”

You shrugged. “Don’t really remember what it felt like, honestly. Got hit in the head at some point during the whole thing,” you tapped the scar next to your eyebrow. “When I woke up, he was carrying me, and I was wearing his kefta. I guess he thought it might help protect me or something. I don’t know; I ran right after.” Your next swallow felt thicker than the last as you finished off your drink. Quickly, you poured another. “He saved my life, probably because he somehow knew I was grisha.”

Just like in the cell, Kaz’s boot tapped yours in what seemed like a comforting gesture; it felt like it was his equivalent to a comforting touch on the shoulder. He raised his glass in solidarity.

You copied the movement carelessly.

The silence that followed was at least a comfortable one.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Orphan of Shadows Chapter 6

Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!Reader

Word Count: 821

Summary: “We’ve got a job” and details therein.

“We have a job,”  Kaz informed you after clearing his throat. He’d just pulled you out of a nightmare by speaking in your otherwise silent bedroom. After checking that you were alright, he hit you with that little announcement like that was a truly normal thing to do.

You didn’t bother to stop the smirk that pulled at the corner of your mouth. “Of course we do.” Based on the fact that Kaz was sitting in the room’s sole chair rather than this meeting taking place in the Crow Club, this wasn’t the sort of job the rest of the Crows would be working on. Meaning your shadows were going to be needed most likely. “What do you need me to do?”

Over the next several minutes, Kaz looped you in on the job he’d managed to steal from Pekka Rollins over the last few days. By the end of it you were left slack-jawed. “Kaz, what the fuck?”

“This is our chance to--”

“If you say ‘make some real money’, I’m going to strangle you,” you snapped. “This is personal for you, Kaz. I’ve known you for too long to believe it’s anything else. This is about Pekka.”

He was silent for a moment. His dark eyes burned into yours.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” you challenged.

Kaz’s voice sounded like you already had your shadows down his throat when he replied, “You’re not?”

“I’m not going to ask you to tell me the nuances of why you want to do this specific job,” you hoped your voice was as earnest as you felt, “but do not lie to me, Kaz Brekker.”

He just gave a rough, jerky nod.

You echoed the tense gesture. “So . . . Sun Summoner?”

“Silly myths,” he scoffed. “She’s a con artist, nothing more.”

“Most would say the same about me.”

“ . . . You’re different.”

You could only blink in surprise at that little admission. Things must have been rougher on him than he said; though, that didn’t really surprise you given the vendetta he seemed to have about Pekka. “Kaz--”

“Don’t!” he cut you off, eyes wide like a startled animal. 

Again, you nodded tensely. Neither of you were ready to address that particular thread that tied the two of you together. “Alright. Where is this precious Sun Summoner?” Because it didn’t slip past you that he didn’t mention that little detail during his story.

“You’re not going to like this . . . She’s training at the Little Palace.”

You could have sworn that your heart stopped. “You’re insane,” you breathed. “You want me to cross the Fold again.”

Once again, he nodded. Another time, you might have found all the nodding amusing, but right now you just felt fear. “Inej, Jesper, and I are going with a man called the Conductor. I want a contingency plan in place.”

“How am I even supposed to get across to back you up?!”

“You’ve done it--”

“I was a child! They took pity on me a-a-and let me ride in the fucking hold because they felt bad for me!”

“If you tell them you’re grisha, they’ll have to take you back to the palace to test you.”

“Or just test me on the spot if they’ve got those people handy! And then what? The whole world learns about me in a few days?! That thing I’ve been trying to prevent since I was eight years old?!”

It was his turn to freeze, almost like he hadn’t thought of that little aspect before asking this of you. “Then I’ll cut a deal with the Conductor. He can double back after we cross to smuggle you in.”

“Then why not have us all cross together if you’re determined to get me there?! Have him hide me somewhere so the others don’t see their secret backup and have me sneak out after you’re gone?”

“I’ll talk to him,” Kaz promised, seemingly missing the frustration and desperation in your voice.

“You’ll really want me to go back . . .” you breathed out in disbelief.

His face looked conflicted, brows scrunched in displeasure.

“I almost died getting out of there, and you just . . . want me to go back.”

“I . . .” He forcefully cleared his throat. “I need you to go back.”

You took in the sight of him for a moment. His gloved hands were gripping the crow-headed top of his cane like it could protect him from the feelings that were flashing across his face. His posture that was more tense than you’d seen it since the first time you’d checked on him while he was sick without being asked. 

“I. Need. You . . . for this job.”

Your nostrils flared and your own shadow writhed beneath you with your rage. “Fine,” you spit, furious that he would ever ask this of you but unsurprised all the same. Mostly, you didn’t want to admit this to yourself, but mostly you were angry at yourself for being unable to tell the man ‘no.’

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Orphan of Shadows Chapter 2

Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!Reader

Word Count: 1369

Summary: Getting across the Fold is . . . eventful.

You were several days into your journey, and you had long since realized that you were woefully underprepared for the trip when you snuck out of the orphanage. Frankly, you were lucky to have gotten as far as you had. Between a few kind Suli caravans, loads of walking, and sneaking your way onto a few farmers’ carts, you’d made it all the way to Kribirsk. Thanks to the Suli, you hadn’t even had to trade your stolen valuables for food, so you at least had something to barter your way across the Fold with, but you’d still rather avoid it if you could.

“What’s a lass like you want with West Ravka?” the squaller with the skiff’s register asked, arms crossed as she looked skeptically down at you.

Thinking quickly, you made tears well in your eyes by thinking about the mother that you’d watched killed for stealing dinner for you; adults always took pity on crying kids, right? “My mother was killed in a Fjerdan raid, and my only family is across the Fold.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Why have they not come for you themselves?”

You sniffled. “It’s been days, and I haven’t heard from them. I don’t even know if my letter reached them . . .”

The grisha’s gaze softened a little, just like you hoped it would. Communication with West Ravka was spotty at best, something you’d realized when helping sort the orphanage’s mail, “You will be able to reach them if you cross?”

Your eyes widened. Con or not, you never thought you’d get this far without offering anything in return. It was a struggle to keep your shadow from squirming excitedly under your feet. “Yes, miss! Once, when I was really little, my uncle sent me a map with their village marked special! ‘X’ marks the spot!”

A little laugh left the squaller. “No promises, little lady, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you. Thank you!”

~

The woman had been successful in convincing . . . whoever needed convincing to let you ride along with the skiff as it crossed the Fold later in the day. “Children don’t take up much room, anyway,” she’d said.

You were to stay in the cargo hold, no matter what happened, because you would only get in the way if you set foot on the deck. Still, you’d managed to find a grate in the deck where you could see a portion of what was happening up top; dangerous journey or not, this was exciting for someone who’d never travelled before the last few days.

Things were loud in preparation for the voyage. Grisha in various colored keftas rushed about, but it was the flash of black that you saw that made your heart stop for a moment.

The Darkling was here.

Your shadows curled around you defensively in an attempt to keep you hidden in your little corner. You prayed to the saints for the first time since you left home to make the stories of him sensing every shadow’s movement or teleporting through darkness fake.

He didn’t seem to notice you, but then fear lanced through you for an entirely different reason. The ship was moving. Between those two things, you were sure your heart was going to beat directly out of your chest.

As the voyage started, you kept yourself wrapped in shadows as best you could while staring with wide eyes locked firmly on the Darkling’s form. You watched him so closely that you didn’t blink until your eyes started burning. So you had a perfect view of the first volcra that dared venture close enough that it strayed into the ship’s dim ring of light. For the first time in your life, you felt a spike of terror at the darkness that surrounded you.

You cowered further into the pile of burlap blankets someone had crammed into the hold. Screams split the air, but you had no desire to see why those people were screaming. Unfortunately for you, fate seemed determined to make you see why they sounded so frightened because the ship abruptly jerked to a halt. When you were older, you’d realize that was likely the moment that the ship’s last squaller was killed. 

A loud crash split through the eternal night.

“Every man for himself!” someone called.

“The mast is gone!” the Black General barked; you only knew it was him because you saw him speak from the ring of light on the deck. “We’re close to the edge. Pair up and walk! Fight your way across, and meet me on the other side!”

“Sir!” you heard another grisha cry. “The child in the hold!”

His eyes turned and landed directly on yours through the grate you’d been peering through. 

You once again prayed to the saints, this time that he’d think the darkness you were shrouded in was just the Fold.

“I’ve got her! Coe up here,” he cooed, holding down a hand for you to grab once he’d tossed aside the grate.

Tentatively, you accepted his help. Not like there were many other options, anyway. He hadn’t noticed anything thusfar, after all; maybe he never would? There was a strange rush of power that went through you when his skin touched yours, but any extra, writhing shadows went unnoticed between his own abilities and the Fold itself.

Then you were airborn.

It took a few moments for the pain to register, but soon you were crying out in agony from where the volcra’s claws were digging into your shoulders to lift you. Later, you’d realize that you were screaming bloody murder based off nothing more than the way your throat hurt, but in the moment, you only heard a voice shout “No you don’t!” and felt the splash of hot liquid on your face before you started falling.

The next thing you knew was the sun’s warmth on your face paired with the gentle sway of someone’s walking as they carried you. Your eyes snapped open. Covering your arm, you saw the black kefta he’d been wearing before and you remembered. You jerked back away from him so far that the general dropped you.

“Are you alright?” he asked quickly.

You scrambled to your feet, shoving your hair out of your face regardless of the way it stung your eyebrow when it dragged across it. Your hair was sticky, why was it sticky? Much like the rest of this encounter, later you’d realize the truth of the situation: you’d landed on your face and the flesh around your eye split open during your struggle with the volcra, leaving a permanent scar through the brow and around your eye for the rest of your life.

“I’m fine! Thanks for saving me! I’ve gotta find my uncle now!” you babbled before taking off as quickly as you could, black, bulletproof flapping around you as you went. 

Like the last time you ran, you didn’t look back. Because of that you’d never learn that he’d realized you were grisha when he touched you back on that skiff or that he’d sent ment after you as soon as he was reunited with the Second Army. But you not looking back made you fast enough to escape and hide.

In Novokribirsk, you managed to stow away on another Suli caravan. Upon finding you that night, bleeding sluggishly and shaking as you were, they patched you up and promised to give you passage all the way to the coast the second they realized you were grisha. “Go to Ketterdam,” they advised. “They’re neutral to your kind. You’ll find work.”

It would have been decent enough advice if you were any other type of grisha (a type that you didn’t have to be quite as secretive about), but you were smart enough to know that by correcting them with the particulars of your abilities would be ill advised at best. 

Still, Ketterdam sounded promising, and having a final destination at all was better than the mindless running you’d been doing so far. Maybe you could trade the stolen Kefta for passage. Or maybe you could keep it . . . It was really warm, after all . . . and despite it being too large, it felt right to have it.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Promptober 2021 Masterlist

Crashed costume party (Chris Redfield x Reader)

Haunted house (Jango Fett x Reader)

“So… I think I’m haunted.” (Maul x Reader)

“You’re a witch and you’re scared of a haunted house?” (Dante x Reader)

“Are you seriously wearing matching costumes with your dog?” (Commander Wolffe x Reader)

“If you start singing spooky scary skeletons one more, time, I’m gonna make you one.” (Chris Redfield x Reader)

Zombie outbreak (DCeased!Jason Todd x Corvid!Reader)

“Are those Halloween decorations? (Name), it’s September!” (Jason Todd x Corvid!Reader)

“It’s spooky season bitches!” (Leon S. Kennedy x Reader)

“You know I could kill you in two seconds if I wanted to right?” (Aleksander Morozova x Inferni!Reader)

“What the fuck are you supposed to be?” (Aleksander Morozova x Inferni!Reader)

Finding a familiar (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Turns out the monster in your closet has been protecting you. (Percival Graves x Reader)

A new villain comes to town just in time for Halloween. (Jason Todd x Corvid!Reader)

(Insert character) is standing at the mirror when they hear a knock. They look at the window to see nothing and hear it again only to realize it’s coming from the mirror. (Dante x Reader)

(Insert character) had an entity attached to them unknowingly for months. They only discovered it when strange marks began appearing on their skin. (John Constantine x Reader)

(Insert character) finds out their roommate is supernatural. (Pre!Dante/Reader)

Baking and decorating cookies (Slade Wilson/Reader)

Halloween masquerade (Slade Wilson/Reader)

Halloween scavenger hunt (Chris Redfield/Reader)

(Insert character) and friends throw an epic Halloween party, but what happens when the clock hits 3 am? (Jason Todd/Corvid!Reader)

“You swore that you could get us out of the corn maze, but it’s been an hour.” (Aleksander Morozova/Inferni!Reader)

“Ghosts aren’t real,(Name). Good luck convincing me otherwise.” (Dante/Reader)

“(Name), no offense, but you’re about as threatening as a puppy.” (Aleksander Morozova x Inferni!Reader)

Bonfire and “scary” stories (Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!Reader)

(Insert character) unknowingly finds a love potion (Jason Todd x Corvid!Reader)

(Insert character) shows up at your house covered in blood. (Kaz Brekker x Healer!Reader)

Going into the woods on a dare, you find something unexpected. (Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!Reader)

There are a bunch of Halloween parties on the same street, and (Insert character) stumbled upon yours by accident. (Chris Redfield x Reader)

Leave piles (Chris Redfield x Reader)

“Um…(Insert character), is that a dead body?” (Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!Reader)