#he has a glare comparable to kaz's

[enpassants]

people saying wylan is the most unthreatening thing ever is wild

[webslinger-holland]

The Emperor of Magic | Part 1

Summary: After years of planning, Kaz finally proposes the heist above all heists to his crew of crows. The crows can't help but see how oddly familiar this heist looks compared to the one they've pulled in the past.

Warning: +18 Warning

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Type: Series

Word Count: 1.8k

Series Masterlist

Each of the crows had been summoned to the boss’s office on the top floor of the club. The door was locked shut and the shades were drawn over the windows. Once the room fell under certain secrecy, Kaz Brekker pulled out the layout of the ultimate heist.

The five crows leaned forward to peer down at the plans. They took a moment to study them carefully, but there was something familiar about this heist. It was almost like...

“Hang on,” Jesper was the first one to notice. “This looks like the Ice Court Heist.”

Kaz chose to say nothing.

“These are the same maps that Wylan drew up,” Matthias said in his thick foreign accent. He placed a single finger on one of the maps.

“And we were breaking out a prisoner who was worth a fortune,” Nina added.

“Kaz,” Inej began. “This is the same heist.”

“Nearly,” Kaz nodded. “But things are different this time.”

“You mean, we won’t be leaving in a tank?” Jesper recalled since the tank was not part of the original plan. 

“I liked the tank,” Wylan commented.

“I mean,” Kaz ignored the initial comment. “It’s different in a few ways. There is a higher risk--”

“Isn’t that lovely?” Nina scoffed. Kaz sent her a glare.

“The person we are breaking out of the court isn’t just an ordinary scientist this time,” Kaz placed his hands on the table to lean forward in his place. “They aren't Grisha, but they are more powerful than them.”

“More powerful than Grisha?” Wylan wondered. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Is that even possible?” Wylan almost scoffed.

“Like someone more powerful than the Shadow Summoner or the Sun Summoner?” Inej asked cautiously.

There was a long beat of silence. Each crow had turned their heads to look expectantly to the boss. He stared her down.

“Yes,” Kaz said slowly. “More powerful than the both of them combined.”

“But that means...” Inej’s voice trailed off. She was one of the few who knew exactly who he was talking about. “The Emperor is real?” Inej asked horrified. 

The atmosphere of the entire room had changed in a split second. The sound of the stage coach approached could be heard from the street below. The boss went to approach the window. He pulled the shade to the side discreetly to make sure nothing was amiss. The small chandelier in the room swayed from an unknown draft which was only noticed by Matthias and Inej. An eeriness fell over the room. 

“W-what Emperor?” Wylan asked. He glanced between Matthias and Inej as if looking for some kind of explanation because they both seemed disturbed by this. 

“The Emperor of Magic,” Matthias seethed. “Is a wicked demon from the depths of hell.

“They are the only known person who is known to manipulate magic,” Inej said uneasily as if she feared the demon itself was listening in on their conversation.

“Not Grisha,” Kaz reminded them. 

“How are they not Grisha?” Nina wondered. “We basically perform magic.”

“Grisha can only manipulate that which exists already. The Emperor has the ability to create anything out of thin air, manipulate anything or anyone, and destroy anything in their path at will.” Kaz explained.

“So remind me why we are breaking them out?” Jesper asked almost sarcastically because it didn’t seem like a very appealing heist to him.

“Because she is worth nearly 100 million kruge,” Kaz stated. The crows quickly directed their line of attention back to him, because they almost wondered if they had heard him right. But it couldn’t be real since...

“Who in the world has 100 million kruge to spend?” Jesper shrugged his shoulders at the thought.

Kaz smirked to himself. “The King of Ravka, the Queen of Shu Han, and the King of Fjerda.”

Knowing that Matthias was from Fjerda and still quite loyal to his country, Kaz glanced at him through the corner of his eye to watch his reaction. He inhaled sharply upon hearing the name of his king, but he tried not to allow his emotions to get the better of him. Kaz directed his attention elsewhere for now.

“What do you mean?” Inej asked, searching for some kind of explanation. 

The boss proceeded to reach into his coat pocket and pull out a single piece of folded paper. He dropped that piece of paper onto the table to allow the crows to study it as carefully as he did these last few years. Jesper took initiative, taking the piece of paper and unfolding it carefully. He read the document silently, feeling Wylan’s eyes darting between him and the paper.

“Let me get this straight,” Jesper folded the paper to set it down again. “The kings and queen of these fine nations spontaneously decided to get together to sign a treaty regarding what to do with this so-called myth.”

“That's right,” Kaz nodded. 

“I suppose nobody else knows about this then?” Jesper pressed.

“For the past three and a half years, I was the only one who knew about the meeting.” Kaz confessed.

“Where did you find this?” Jesper asked, holding up the paper in his hand.

“In a random vault in the Ravkan palace,” Kaz shrugged his shoulders. Jesper let out a scoff of disbelief, throwing his hands up in the air. “Left a copy so they wouldn’t get suspicious.” Kaz added.

“Of course. Where else would you get it?” Jesper asked sarcastically.

“I still don’t understand,” Inej interjected. “If the kings and queen created this treaty and have her in currently in their captivity, then how are we going to break her out? We can’t just demand that they pay us for her back,” Inej claimed.

“We are going to break her out,” Kaz explained. “We are going to make it look like she escaped.”

“H-How do we do that?” Wylan was the first to speak up, but his voice failed him.

“Once they are informed that she is missing, they’ll put a price on her head for her recapture. We’ll make our way down to Ravka to bring her before the king and demand our price,” Kaz stated simply.

“Say the King of Ravka doesn’t want to pay the 100 million kruge? Refuses to bargain with you. What then?” Nina asked having grown up in Ravka herself.

“Then I threaten to unleash her,” Kaz claimed. The crows inhaled sharply at his comment, feeling insanely unnerved by his seemingly carelessness. “I don’t think she’d be too happy to come face to face with her captor,” Kaz said.

The room fell silent once again. The five crows searched for any flaw in the plan, coming to realize that this plan had probably been rewritten over a hundred times already. It most certainly was the most dangerous heist that they would ever pull off, but they had no idea how they’d be able to do it. 

Each of the crows had turned their heads to looked at one another. They wondered if they were all thinking the same thing. One thing was certain: they all had a look of uncertainty on their face. They didn’t know what would happen, but they were most intrigued by the price tag attached to the heist.

“Alright,” Jesper was the first to speak up.��“I’m listening.”

The leader proceeded to go through every single step of the heist, pointing out even the smallest details and every individual role assigned to the crows. The boss had already gone to great lengths to secure additional members to the crew, including men to sail the ship across the sea and a tailor who could alter their appearances so they could actually get into the court without being recognized. It actually looked like it could work. The only problem was...

“Wait,” Jesper interrupted. “You’re telling me that she can’t touch us, see us, or hear us throughout the entire heist.”

“That’s right,” Kaz nodded.

“Otherwise what? She can get into our heads?” Jesper questioned.

“And tear us apart,” Wylan said sorrowfully.

“From the inside,” Inej added. 

“There’s no telling what she’ll do to us if we are compromised,” Kaz confirmed. “The ancient texts say she can see every thought. Some have reported seeing hallucinations under her influence. The very nature of our reality will cease to exist if she gets into our heads,” Kaz replied.

“How do we even protect ourselves then?” Inej asked as if it was merely impossible. 

“She wears a customized straight jacket which prevents her from using her powers. It was made specially by a fabrikator,” Kaz explained. “She is also forced to wear ear, eye, and mouth pieces which prevent her from hearing, seeing, or speaking.”

“Where is she contained?” Nina asked, glancing back down at the map. 

“She’d be kept here,” Matthias pointed to the center of the map where the White Island stood. “In the dungeons to be specific,” Matthias added.

“It’ll be heavily guarded which is why Matthias, Wylan, and I will go in disguised as druskelle,” Kaz informed them.

“Not to be rude but neither of you look anything like Fjerdan,” Matthias almost let out a laugh as he crossed his arms over his chest. It was true though as both Kaz and Wylan were from Kerch.

“Not to worry,” Kaz snarked. “Our tailor will do a fine job altering Wylan and I’s appearance.”

“She’s going to alter you guys?” Jesper asked slightly worried.

“It won’t be permanent,” Kaz reassured him since he knew he’d worry about changing Wylan’s appearance once again. “It will disguise us long enough to get us inside the cell,” Kaz insisted.

“Would it be easier if we were all tailored?” Inej wondered. “That way, if she does happen to see us, she wouldn’t know what our real faces look like.”

“She’d still get into our head,” Kaz shook his head at the notion. “She’d know everything about us: our names, our races, our thoughts. It doesn’t matter what we look like; we are vulnerable to her.”

“How do we get her out if we can’t touch her or talk to her without her getting into our heads?” Jesper pointed out, changing the subject. “I doubt she’ll come willingly,” Jesper scoffed. 

“She’s attached to four heavy chains: two on the sides, one on her front, and one on her back. Each chain is connected to a larger metal cuff around her waist. Those chains keep her centered in the cell and are attached to the solid stone walls. It prevents her from moving around in the cell,” Kaz said slowly. He drew up the plans so they could visualize better.

Each of the crows leaned forward to get a better look at the designs he drew. It showed a faceless figure standing in the center of the room, wearing one large cuff around their waist. Sure enough, the figure was surrounded by four chains attached to the wall. It made more sense now to them.

“We break those chains and escort her out. We don’t touch her, only the chains. No matter what happens...we cannot touch her,” Kaz said to them all.

Kaz went to lean back. They looked at him expectantly.

“If we do...it’ll be the end.”

Author’s Note:

They’ll finally meet her in the next part, but what’s going to happen??? I hope you enjoyed this part of the series.

TAGLIST:

@d34drapunzel @adorawritesalot​ @vixythepixie​ @theghostofshadows​ @lonelywitchv2​ @arcadialine​ @zeeader​ @cleverzonkwombatsludge​ @shara-ne​ @iloveinej​ @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @mystic-mara​ @missymisha​

[valentinedaughtler]

Tainted Opal (Part 8)

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

T/Ws: violence, romantic feelings, blood, mild spice scenes sometimes, fem!reader and she/her pronouns, sexual abuse/trauma (not explicit)

Synopsis: You test your skills in an intense game of poker with the Crows. Kaz gets fed up off and you have to cool him off.

REQUESTS: OPEN✅

____________________________________________

8 - No Strip Poker

"This isn't just a game for fun, Jesper," Kaz grumbled as he separated the cards into seven piles. He kept the remaining cards in a stack by his hip. I guess he decided he was going to be the dealer, and no one interjected. "Everyone has a 'tell', you all know that. We're playing this to observe others' reactions and then call them out at the end of the game."

"So we're gonna point out each others' flaws in order to suppress them during a negotiation or a fight?" I asked, my voice dripping with mockery, the idea seemed smart, yet damaging. Kaz nodded to me, he seemed to want to glare at me, but you could say he suppressed it.

"So this is not strip poker?" Jesper asked with a whine. I laughed a bit as almost everyone objected. Nina seemed pretty on board with the idea though. With all the usual shenanigans out of the way, the game began.

Everyone picked up the deck dealed to them, inspecting their hand. I had a pair of sixes, but that most likely wasn't good enough to win. I knew if I lied during the game my lower lip would quiver, giving me away. I have to say nothing if asked, but I need to seem confident to fool.

"Give two cards, darling," I said to Kaz with a smirk. He passed them to me as I discarded my useless three of clubs and ten of hearts. I now held an additional six and a joker. Holy saints, four of a kind and an ace. That ranks me above a full house and under a straight flush. I suppressed my glee and stared down at my cards blankly. I was aware that everyone was darting glances around the room, attempting to spot an awkward movement of someone else.

Matthias huffed and threw his cards onto the table, "I fold," he said with a boiling rage. Nina gave him a soft kiss on the cheek before looking back at her hand. When Kaz nodded, everyone placed down their luck.

Inej had a three of a kind, of kings. Very good.

Jesper had nothing.... What could have been a royal flush was ruined by a single two of clubs.

Wylan had two of a kind, of threes.

Nina had two sets of two of a kinds.

Finally, my gaze fell off Kaz's hand. A straight flush.

I bottled up my frustration as Kaz reshuffled the cards and Jesper complained. I felt my competitive spirit shoot through my veins. Poker was a weekly event back on the ship, it was the only way my father respected me. Now, I felt the need to win every time. But I also wanted to win to beat Kaz Brekker.

I looked up at the pale boy with scarred lips, he ignored my stare- well, my glare. I finally spewed out words driven by a lust for winning, not testimonial thought,

"Let's make bets," I said, with a sweet undertone in my voice. It was like mixing honey into warm tea. Everyone turned to my direction as I broke the tense silence, I guess we all were competitive. "Information is much more valuable than any coin. Whoever wins each round gets to ask a question -that must be answered—, to anyone here." I spoke with enfaces on each word, a smirk dancing on my plush lips. Jesper and Wylan smiled, and Nina let out an approving giggle. Kaz nodded, but did not show a sliver of opinion.

"Well, let's see how confident you are, Y/n," Kaz rasped, but there was a hint of amusement in his gravely voice. I looked at my hand, just a two of a kind, but it was of Queens. I asked for three cards, and others needs followed in suit. My hand now consisted on two queens and two kings. My bite was going to be underwhelming compared to my bark...

Everyone revealed their hand, darting gazes past the other cards laid out in. Nina won with a royal flush, which caused my body to soften on the inside, at least Kaz did not win after the spectacle I made. My competitive nature often got in the way of my judgement. Nina made a humming sound as she leaned against Matthias before looking directly at Inej.

"What's the weirdest thing you've observed while spying..?" She inquired with deep curiosity igniting in her eyes. Inej laughed softly before thinking for a moment.

"One time I saw a woman singing opera to... maybe 12 chickens sitting on her

couch-," the Waith could barely keep a straight face as she spoke, smirking at just the thought of the sight.

"I would pay to see that, the women could get rich of Kruge," I remarked with a giggle. Inej smiled at me with glittering eyes, and the game resumed.

A few rounds past before I won, but no alarming questions had been asked yet. Everyone seemed to just be dipping their toes in the shallow end of a deep pool of secrets. As I looked at my new hand of cards, I had a perfect full house, but everyone would know my deck was perfect if I didn't draw cards for the first time. I have to risk it. My anxiety spiked slightly, but I had to keep my heart rate steady, Nina would know if it sped up. I asked for one card, and luckily it was a joker. I could replace the card I had just discarded.

"I gotta' fold," Jesper whined, his gambling addiction seemed to be having a low this round. The remaining players placed their cards on the table. Everyone's eyes were glued on my hand; my perfect hand; the winning hand. Kaz didn't show signs of frustration, but I knew he was. He was so close to winning, just like I had been the very first round. My competitive advantage bubbled in my throat, my ego boiling over. I smirked and turned to Kaz,

"Why do you were gloves all the time?" I asked with curiosity lined with amusement. Everyone in the room seemed to tense up, we all most likely knew very little, but we had heard the rumors.

Brekker's hands are stained with blood that can't be washed off.

Dirtyhands has sharp fingers like the devil.

Kaz's hands are scarred beyond belief, the fate of his work.

Kaz clutched his cane tightly and stood up, his tall form towering over my hunched body.

"Choose one of the theories of Ketterdam's voices. They're all true enough," he responded. And with that, he began walking outside, opening the cabin's door. He stopped at the doorway, his strong posture framed by the blistering white outside. "I've learned enough from this game, you all need to improve your sloppy skills, especially Y/n. The quivering of your pretty lips will get your teeth knocked out."

As the door slammed shut, we all sat in silence. The tension from the game lingered as the quiet in the room festered. I couldn't help but feel embarrassed, Kaz was cold and bitter, but he was important. I had to value his feelings, or at the very least, his reactions. My cheeks grew red, but I sighed and attempted to keep face. When in doubt, become seductive; desire trumps all.

"Soooo, now that the party pooper is gone, maybe be could play strip poker-,"

"Please play without me, dolls, I'm going to reason with... the party pooper in question," my voice was a soft purr, one that drew in the most modest of people. I lifted myself with grace, sauntering out the door into the cold, but not before slipping on Kaz's jacket.

✵ ♣ ✵

The bitter boy had not made it far in the short time, he was just a hundred or so paces ahead of me, limping his way into the cold. I wasn't sure why, but I assumed it was to clear his troubled mind.

I finally made my way to his side, and without acknowledging me, he continued his brooding trek.

"Did you just come out here to suffer for fun or did you want to escape my question?" I made my tone extra clear, my honeydew voices melting the cold feelings. Kaz said nothing for a while, his jaw clenching slightly.

He halted and cocked an eyebrow. His head turned and his high stature caused him to crane his neck in order to make eye contact with me.

"We cannot escape our pasts, Y/n, all we can do is carefully cultivate a collection of present actions to allow the world to assume our upbringings," he voice sounded choked, strained, but he still held himself with pride. I noticed how he said 'we', including himself in the population of whom made the decision he described.

I sighed softly and narrowed my eyes, peering through my eyelashes at the Kaz. I didn't apologize for my question, I didn't need to, but I gave Kaz a looking of understanding.

"These personas we create may be true enough, Kaz, but they're simply an escape from the hell we're stuck in." I stepped closer to him, my stare hardening. "You have your tells too, Kaz Brekker, you may have a perfect front you present to the world, I'm guilty of it as well, but you're still just a scared kid."

Kaz stiffened as I inched closer to his face, taunting him. I stood on the tips of my toes, our noses nearly touching. I didn't have to use my Grisha abilities to sense his heartbeat quickening.

"We met before, didn't we?"

__________________

Word Count: 1606

__________________

I wasn't a fan of this chapter, but it was pretty rushed. Sorry for the awkward start to this.

-Valentine

[swanimagines]

shit! i just sent an aski for g13 with either kaz or pin but i meant G3!! oml im so sorry! its G3<3

Echo is talking about this ask, I deleted the wrong one: "as i said, im here to spam<;33

can i pwease have G13 from your affection prompt list with either Pin or Kaz?

like the image their forehead against mine is just-

UGH-

i'll stop weirding you out now😅love you<;3"

FREDDY EVENT, send in requests for any of Freddy Carter's characters!! (Other requests are open too, but they go to my normal to-do list which I'm not able to start doing til March at earliest)

Going with Pin since I'm not comfortable with prompts like this with Kaz because of his haphephobia.

Also for some reason I really like writing stuff where Y/N is supportive of Pin when he rides for Holloway.

G3. Leaning your forehead against theirs

Word count: 520

"Y/N!" Mia's voice echoed through the stables and you flinched at her voice, carefully poking your head out from the tack room. "Are you blind, stupid or lazy?"

"What is it again?" you sighed.

"Firefly's stable doesn't look like it's been even looked over at all, I told you it has to be cleaned by noon and it's already an hour late." she crossed her arms and glared down at you.

You frowned, Mia had told you to clean it by 6pm earlier that morning. "You told me that-"

"No," Mia smirked slightly. "I didn't."

"Why are you always so mean to me?" you asked, feeling tears coming up in your eyes. "You've been ordering me around for days, barely letting me to have a good night's sleep, and I haven't done anything to you to deserve this. I can't take it anymore."

"Yes, you have. You didn't stop your boyfriend when he betrayed our trust and began riding for Holloway," Mia scoffed and rolled her eyes. "So, now you're here and working our loss off."

You took in a deep sigh, turning away and making your way to Jewel's stable.

"What are you doing? You still have work to do," Mia called out to you.

You turned back around, sending her a glare as you unlocked the stable door and soon you were on Jewel's back, riding towards Holloway.

---

Pin spotted you pretty soon after you had entered the gates, walking up to you when you dismounted Jewel. He frowned upon seeing you, you must have looked horrible.

"What happened?" he asked, frowning and putting his hand on your cheek. You leaned against his hand, putting your own hand over it, relishing its warmth. You already felt so much more comforted.

"Mia. She- she said that- we got into a bad fight," you said in a quiet voice. "She blames me for you leaving and makes me work my arse off, I can't take it anymore."

You saw Pin clenching his jaw slightly. "It's fine, I'll be with you tonight," he then said softly. "Just come over to stay here, I'm sure people here at Holloway won't mind if you spend the night here."

You smiled at him, letting him lead you to the stables to give Jewel a place to stay too. The stables at Holloway were big and fancy compared to Bright Fields, you could tell how well they were taking care of their horses. You led Jewel to one of the empty stalls and shut the door after giving her a kiss.

Pin took a hold of your face after you turned around to him, pressing a brief kiss to your lips. When your lips parted, he rested his forehead against yours, his thumb tracing your cheek as another tear slipped out of your eye.

"We'll figure this out. I promise." he muttered and you nodded, letting yourself relax in his arms, your foreheads pressed together as Jewel let out a knowing sigh and you grinned at it, as did Pin too.

You felt so much better, Pin knew how to make it all better.

Pin tags for the Freddy event: @scandalous-chaos @brekkers-desigirl

[astxrissm]

Little by Little

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader

Summary: You and Kaz take a big step in your relationship.

Word Count: 1.5 k

A/N: Enjoy! 💖

It was a dreary summer afternoon. Humidity sept through the thin walls of the Slat, soaking its residents in sweat. Lethargicy hovered like a cloud, sending everyone into a dazed stupor.

Going outside is out of the question. The stench of Ketterdam is ten times worse than usual, not to mention that the fleas flourish during the hot weather. Even spending a few minutes outside would leave you soaked in sweat and riddled with bites. Needless to say, the Crows were taking refuge in the Slat. Five of us were sitting in the dining area, trying desperately to cool off.

I had brought some work down from my room, but I still haven’t picked up my pencil after half an hour. Inej has been disappearing and reappearing for the past hour, but no one has the energy to ask her where she’s going. Nina is slumped over a chair, Matthias sitting next to her but not close enough to touch. It’s too hot for contact.

Even Jesper has slowed down. He’s resigned himself to twirling one of Wylan’s sketching pencils in his long fingers, his foot tapping the ground at an irregular rhythm. Wylan seems to be trying to focus on his sketch, but the combination of Jesper making noise and the heat seems to be getting to him.

I stand up, my chair scraping back on the ground. Nina makes a small grunt. “I’m going to take a walk,” I say, wiping off my sweaty palms on my shirt.

“(Y/N), I, um, have something for Kaz.” Wylan starts, and I raise my brows. His face reddens, and he quickly adds, “That is, if you’re going-” “Don’t start this, Wylan,” Jesper says with a groan. “We all know that they would spend every-”

“I’ll take whatever you need, Wylan,” I say sweetly, but throw Jesper a glare out of the corner of my eye. He gives me a look that says, I can’t apologize if it’s true.

“Alright, thank you. They’re just some sketches for one of our next jobs,” he says, handing me a thick sheet of paper. I take it and tuck it into my pocket. I ignore Nina’s smirk and proceed to exit the room.

Really, I wasn’t planning on going to see Kaz. But now that Wylan said it, I can’t deny that Kaz’s office would probably be where my little ‘walk’ would end up.

I emerge from the room, shutting the door behind me. It’s even hotter in the hallway, so I quickly rush down it and to the entrance of the Slat.

  A few seconds later, I’m clambering up the four flights of stairs. Everyone says that I have a knack for finding Kaz, but it’s really not that hard. Either he’s on a job or he’s in his office. Workaholics are predictable in a way that most people aren’t. It makes them repetitive, but also more productive. Fewer places to go means undivided focus. 

By the time I’ve made it to the top of the steps, I’m breathing heavily and I have a stitch in my side. I take a moment to collect myself, my chest rising and falling.

After I’ve cooled down as much as I can, I rap gently on the door.

  “Yes?” a rough voice calls. Kaz’s voice.

I crack open the door. Kaz glances up from his desk, a scowl on his face. But when he sees me, it eases ever so slightly. Or maybe the heat is making me see mirages.

“Come in,” he says, glancing back down at his work for a moment. I slide inside, shutting the door behind myself.

  The first thing I notice is how cool the room is. It’s not even that cold inside, but compared to the rest of the Slat, it’s an icebox. For a moment, I feel annoyed. How could he not share this refuge with the rest of us?

But when I get closer to Kaz, I realize how stressed he looks. To those who don’t know him, he may look impassive, or even bored. But you can see his emotions better if you know where to look-namely the tiny crease between his eyebrows, the slight downturn of his mouth.

I hesitate before giving him the sheet of paper Wylan gave me, torn between trying to save him the hassle of a new project but also feeling obligated to deliver Wylan’s work. But at that moment, Kaz glances up at me expectantly, and I can tell that he’s about to ask me what I’m here for.

“These are some of the plans you asked for. Wylan wanted to get them to you, but he wasn’t sure where to find you.” I say, placing the paper on his makeshift desk.

  He raises his brows. “And he sent you?”

“What can I say, I’m a good runner,” I respond jokingly, but can feel heat rising to my face. Thank the Saints that it’s already warm.

“If you’re such a good runner, then why won’t you get me my coffee in the morning?”

  “Because my services are only open to people that say please and thank you.” I respond with a smirk. But Kaz only shrugs.

  “Things are a lot easier when you leave decency behind.”

  I scowl. “Leave it to you to turn a pleasant conversation dark.”

“Of course, (Y/N) dear. It’s one of my specialties,” he says. And this time, he’s the one smirking.

I sigh exasperatedly, but can’t ignore the amusement that sparks inside my chest. Kaz, with his dark humor and unwavering skepticism. It’s frustrating, but it’s him.

  “I should go back downstairs. The others are probably waiting on me.” I say, casting a final glance at Kaz. I want to stay, be in his company, but I can tell that he needs to focus. Plus, I should go do my work waiting for me downstairs.

I turn away, but if I had waited only a second later, I would have caught the conflicted expression on Kaz’s face.

“Can you stay?” I pause, my hand hovering over the door handle. My heart gives a brief thud.

“You want me to stay?” I ask slowly, unsure if I heard him right. I look over my shoulder.

  Kaz looks more awkward than I’ve ever seen him. Which, according to normal people’s standards, isn’t uncomfortable at all. But I’m so used to seeing him so collected, so impassive. But now he sits behind his desk, his gloved hands clasped in a way that seems strange, his expression uneasy.

Kaz clears his throat, running a hand through his hair. “I have some work for you.”

  “What kind of work?” I ask suspiciously. If this is his try at innuendo, he needs some practice.

“Just some routes for our next job. I thought that you might want to get familiar with the layout,” he says casually, but I don’t miss the tiny hitch in his voice.

  “Sure,” I say easily, returning back inside the office. He takes a rolled-up map from the far side of his desk and hands it to me. Briefly, our fingers brush. And even though his hands are gloved and the contact is brief, the action doesn’t fail to send goosebumps over my arms.

I drag a chair from the far side of the room and put it in front of his desk. I settle myself in front of him, a little to his left so that he still has room to do his own work, which consists of piles and piles of paperwork.

I can feel Kaz’s eyes on me as I move, but don’t meet them until I sit down. But by then, he’s already looked away. For a moment, disappointment seeps into my otherwise glowing mood.

  But then, I realized why he averted my gaze.

Because he’s focused on doing something else-taking off his gloves.

I stare at his pale hands. It’s the first time I’ve seen his hands bare. He has long, slender fingers-lockpick’s fingers.

  The movements of his hands are precise as he picks up his leather gloves and lies them on the edge of his desk. I’ve noticed it about him before, but it’s all the more recognizable when he’s not wearing gloves.

  We don’t speak- he only glances at me, almost as if in question. I give a brief nod, and he moves his hand forward.  

Kaz wraps his pinky finger around mine. It’s the first time we’ve touched skin-on-skin. I watch his expression closely, ready to pull my hand away if the time calls for it.

For a moment, his face flashes between an array of emotions- disgust, fear, discomfort. He inhales sharply, and I almost draw away.

  But then, Kaz seems to steel himself. He glances at me, and I return his gaze with a smile. He gives my pinky a quick squeeze and then looks back down at his work, probably in need of a distraction.

I mirror him, turning back to the map on the table in front of me, tracing the marked routes with my finger. But I’m not paying attention-not really. It’s too difficult not to pay attention to anything while I’m touching him- really touching him.

For now, it’s enough. It might take months, years, to make significant progress. But it’s okay. Little by little, we’ll get there.

  Together.

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain, Blurb 3

Technically the third in a blurb-ish series (though this is kinda long for a blurb lol) but can technically be read as a stand alone, but i think the other parts make this seem more significant lol

A/n kinda angsty, not sure if i loveeee this but i haven’t posted a fic in such a long time bc of graduation chaos but now it’s summer and i’m working on a lot of requests/stories :))

Summary: jealousy is out of place when there’s no real warrant for it, and sometimes it’s okay to be content--to not need the rain to make you promises. 

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! reader

--

Tiredness dulls the part of me that craves the rambunctious, but I’m still positive. I smile when someone does something only the truly inebriated find comical. I laugh when something somewhat actually funny happens, and I let the world around me drink. Twenty minutes--in twenty minutes I will claim a headache and go upstairs. 

“You okay, y/n?” Jesper’s concern would border on genuinely considerate if it wasn’t for the slightest hint of slur in his words. Nights in which he consols himself after losing game after game are when he’s the friendliest. “You’re strangely quiet--you’re never quiet.” 

I press my lips together oddly, smiling in a way that finally reaches my eyes. Jesper’s nice in an oddly particular way when he’s tipsy. Overly observant and careful. “Just a little tired,” I shift in my seat, leaning back against the plush seat in Kaz’s office, “I wish Kaz would just get here and dismiss us so I can go to bed.” 

Jesper smiles, lifting his arm slightly and causing his glass to sway. Kaz is not going to take it well when he realizes that Jesper was extremely involved in the downstairs celebration. He turns ungracefully, moving to sit next to me with no warning. I half-heartedly glare as he takes up most of the small couch. 

“You’re grumpy when you’re tired,” Jesper hums, stretching his casually. 

I sigh once, but it lacks any bite. “I do not.” 

He smiles easily, tilting his head so far to the side that it falls against the back of the seat, “No...but I know the real reason you’re grumpy.” 

Rolling my eyes, I suppress my instinctual reaction. That would only expose his words as true. “I am not grumpy, there is no reason--” 

“You know he hated it.” 

I exhale, tired and slowly losing my fragine hold on fake tranquility. “Yeah.” That should make it  better. “I know.” It doesn’t--it doesn’t make anything better. 

So the contact we so desperately needed on our side took to flirting with Kaz. It was an uncomfortable situation because of its precariousness and I was worried because I know about his issues with touch. But it’s not like I care about the flirting part. No. It was unprofessional and so easily turned messy--that’s what my problem was.

Jesper sighs, stretching even more. I let him stretch his legs over me, too tired to push him off. I sigh, setting my chin on his bent knees. “What’s with the face, l/n?” 

I roll my eyes again. Sometimes having someone care about you is annoying. I take back all of my positive thoughts about him--Jesper Fahey is an annoying drunk. 

“There’s no face,” despite my words, I feel my expression sour even further. Jesper’s expression shifts from that of gentle worry to teasing pride. “And if there was one, it wouldn’t be because of Kaz Brekker.”

Jesper’s lips twitch upwards, something strange tainting his tipsy grin. “I never said a name.” 

“One more condescending comment, and I’m shoving you off this damn couch.” 

He laughs flatly, shifting closer and making himself more comfortable. Drunk and touchy--anyone else would have been slapped by now. “You’re nicer after some of this.” 

He holds his glass out towards me casually, amber liquid sloshing slightly. I blink at the liquid with slight disinterest. I’m not exactly in the drinking mood...but I’m not exactly in the mood for any of this. The sound of the door opening doesn’t phase me--it’s not Inej, because she never lets herself be heard. Kaz doesn’t say anything, taking one dull step and then another, footsteps leaching the room of any warmth. The coldness he exudes so easily as a mask is strong tonight, I haven’t even looked at him and I can feel it. 

Maybe I do need a drink. 

I take the glass from Jesper, taking a quick and shallow sip of the liquid. It’s offensive in smell, taste, and the way it spills down my throat. The taste is much more intense than expected, some of the liquid slips past the corner of my mouth. Somehow more bitter than this moment, the liquid leaves me ready to splutter like a child. I exhale, pushing through the burning. Jesper moves his hand forward absentmindedly, wiping a single drop of liquid from my chin carelessly. The gesture would be sweet if my throat burned less. 

“Jesper,” the warmth of the alcohol takes root in my chest, “That’s--” He laughs at my reaction, coaxing a smile from me. “Like literally the worst--why do you even have this?” If this is served in the Crow Club, I’ve never heard of it, this is the kind of under the counter alcohol that isn’t mass produced. 

He laughs a little more freely. “Won it off of someone passing through--I don’t always lose.” 

I wrinkle my nose, “An outlier shouldn’t be--” 

“Oh, shut up.” Jesper laughs again. 

“Both of you ‘shut up’,” Kaz sighs, stepping further into the room, “If you need to drink, at least wait until after my meeting.” I frown, ignoring Kaz’s lingering and sharp gaze, “You should all follow Inej’s example.” 

“We can’t even see Inej.” 

Kaz raises an eyebrow, but he regards me with nothing but voidness. He’s never exactly emotive, but normally in moments like this something I can never interpret touches his expression, coloring it human. “Exactly.” 

“You’re funnier than people give you credit for.” The comment isn’t exactly sarcastic, but it’s something lighter than I should be offering. It’s an attempt at peace, the slight stiffness between us is starting to bother me. Our usual dynamic isn’t exactly friendly, but it’s more than this. Kaz glares. “But not tonight.” 

His expression hardens. “Business is business. It’s not humor, it’s not whatever you try to make it.” Right. Just like it was business when that girl spent more time hitting on him than actually revealing real information. The thought leaves my expression tight as I swallow back my instinctual words. “It’s not whatever you’re currently doing.” 

It takes me longer than it should to realize he’s referring to the position Jesper and I are in. Can he relax? It’s not my fault Jesper is tipsy and touchy. 

“Kaz,” Inej’s voice is soft yet determined as she emerges from the shadows. It’s a miracle the way she’s nothing more than a shadow until she chooses not to be. “What’s our next job?” 

Prompting Kaz in order to prevent a fight--Inej, always the closest thing to a mom available. I give her a partial smile, glad that she’s wedging herself between us and the tension, preventing conflict I’m too tired to follow through on.

“A merchant’s house,” he begins slowly, “We’ll be searching a merchant’s house but I’m seeking evidence more than property.” Jesper swings his legs off the couch with no warning. My head falls. I glare at Jesper who offers me a slightly apologetic tsk before dropping his head on my shoulder. Kaz must note the exchange because something in his expression tightens. He’s extra irritable today. “I’ll disclose more tomorrow,” he sighs once, already turning away, “Most of you are beyond listening tonight anyways.” 

He’s at the door before I can tell him that I’m not drunk. The door opens and closes, but Kaz’s heaviness lingers like led. I frown, letting my head fall to the side, resting on Jesper’s.

“He’s weird today,” I mumble, unsure if I want a reply. 

“He’s always like that,” Jesper breathes, “You’re losing your novelty, y/n--he always learns to harden himself against anything bright.” 

The words leave me even more tired. “I don’t think I’m particularly bright.” 

“Kaz does,” Inej replies, “And it has nothing to do with ‘novelty’, Jesper’s just cynical when he drinks.” I don’t know if I believe her, but I like knowing that Inej thinks that. “And Kaz can’t harden himself against you, and he hates that.” 

I press my lips together, straightening my spine. “I’m not that great, and whatever Kaz does or doesn’t harden himself against doesn’t affect me at all.” My nails press into the plush seat. “I don’t even know why we’re talking about this because whatever he does or doesn’t feel doesn’t matter to me.” I force myself up, doing all I can to seem perfectly calm. “All I care about is going to bed.”

Turning my head, I start to approach the door. Kaz has been strangely cold all night, and while I’m used to his moods, he hasn’t exactly directed them at me so fully since the day he caught me waiting for him to wake up after he almost died. If he wants to go back to how it used to be, then it can. Maybe I’ll care in the morning, when the growing weight of my eyelids is no longer a distraction.

“Sometimes the two of you confuse me,” Inej begins, “And sometimes I see you try to deal with emotion and I see the common ground.” 

The words leave me cold. I don’t think being compared to Kaz is an insult, not when there’s so much it could mean. He’s much more complex than he wants to be. There is goodness within him, gilding the parts of him that are more shards than anything else.  

I exhale, refusing to turn. Inej is too observant for her own good. “There is no emotion.” 

“I’m not going to waste my time arguing over that because I know it’s a waste of time.” She pauses and I consider turning around in hopes of reading something less honest from her expression. “I’m just telling you as a friend that one of you needs to be mature and talk to the other tonight before the tension gets worse and that it’s not going to be him.” 

She’s right. I exhale, “Do you think I should let him go?” Even just saying that leaves my heart aching. I know instantly that that’s not what I want, but it might be what he wants--it might be the best option. I might have the strength to let him go if I work at it. “I don’t--that’s not what I want and I’m not sure I could, but maybe that’s selfish of me.” 

“Y/n.” I turn slowly, but I purposefully avoid her gaze, keeping my head down. “I know that I’ve known Kaz longer than you, and I know that when he’s getting along with you he’s,” she trails off, uncertain, “More him, in a good way.” 

My heart swells, and with that comes feelings of panic. I never wanted to change him--to make him better or worse or anything; all I’ve ever wanted is to know him and to maybe help him with his burden. And to hear that maybe I’ve done that from someone so close to him--someone so observant and aware. That’s everything. And that terrifies me. Nothing good can last; nothing that seems to be all you could ever want actually is. I know that from life before the Crows, before I ran away from the castle I called home.

“I think he does the same for you.” I’ve never really thought about Kaz’s effect on me outside of the fact that he makes me feel warm in small moments and painfully seen in large ones. 

I smile because she’s trying and she’s given me something. “I’d say I’d tell you when I make my decision, but something tells me you’ll know.” 

She nods, expression shifting to something kind. “Goodnight, y/n.” 

Jesper stretches out on the couch, settling himself comfortably, “Night, y/n.”

“Goodnight, guys.” I disappear past the door easily, heading towards my room.

I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to look for Kaz tonight. How much damage could be done in one night? Maybe he needs space. Maybe seeking him out now will make things worse. I exhale, opening the door to my room easily. I’ll decide before going to sleep.

When I step into the room, everything is in place. Everything is fine--but something about it feels off. The light is on. I didn’t leave the light on. Nothing else raises any red flags, so I continue into the room calmly, examining everything carefully. Nothing feels out of place as I further enter the room. I take in my bed, my dresser, and lastly my nightstand. 

My heart swells all over again, but this time it feels even heavier than before. On the center of my nightstand, in perfect condition, is a copy of Pride and Prejudice. The same book I told Kaz about, the one thing besides clothing I took from the palace. I told him it was my mother’s favorite and then he asked me to read it to him. 

I can’t picture him seeing this and thinking of me. I can’t picture him thinking of me--but no one else knew about my attachment to the book. I need to find him. I need to--to see him, to speak to him. To look him in the eye and see something I only ever see when we’re alone. Maybe he won’t have that look this time, but that’s okay. 

I can’t expect to always understand him, but that does not mean I don’t know him. 

The thought leaves me feeling a little more settled within the boundaries of my skin, but I don’t ease entirely. The good is more frightening than the bad. My fear of happiness is a benign secret I haven’t had to worry about in years. I don’t know enough about it to know how to deal with it let alone mention it to Kaz. Not that it’s his problem. 

I squeeze the book to my stomach. Swallowing pride is a difficult thing, but I’m used to it with him. It’s usually worth it with Kaz because sometimes when I try he tries in his own way. I should find him. He’s not awfully creative about where he goes when he wants to be alone because people know better than to bother him. Kaz is probably in his attic or getting air outside or…

The lights were on when I came in. I’m an idiot. I didn’t feel weird when I walked into the room because of the book. Someone’s in here. He’s in here. 

Setting the book down like I should have never touched it, I let out a sigh. “Lurking is unbecoming.” 

“It’s also unbecoming to work for me and be so easily distracted by a book.” His voice reveals nothing as he emerges from the shadows. “I could have killed you with how long it took for you to notice my presence.” He pauses, eyebrows drawing together. “The light was on.” 

Normally I’d have some kind of comment, some kind of joke that offers a more peaceful situation. “I know.” It’s a flat response. “I think on some subconscious level I knew,” I drop my gaze away from him, “I knew I was okay.” That sounds dumb. “I mean...I think I knew it was you so I knew I was okay.” Yeah, that wasn’t anymore eloquent. “That doesn’t make sense, but if you get to be confusing, I do too.”

“Confusing? There’s nothing to understand.” Curt. Simple. Dismissive. 

I frown. ‘Nothing to understand’. Right, because there’s nothing confusing about how quickly he decided to dismiss me just to bring me some obscenely sentimental gift. “If you’re mad at me, you should at least tell me why.” I press my lips together. “At least that way I’ll know if I need to apologize or kick your ass.” 

At that, he presses his lips together, corner of his mouth threatening to tilt upwards. “You would kick my ass?”

Great, even when he’s easing he has to be annoying. “I could.” There is no universe in which I could take him in a physical fight. “On a good day.” I let out a breath, doing all I can to not focus on his expression. Awkwardness settles in my chest as my eyes land on my bed. I sit down, trying not to let my shoulders slump tiredly as I stretch my legs across my bed. “You’re not having a good day.” 

“My day is fine, I’m just not naively cheerful like you,” his words turn sharp, “Or Jesper.” 

Weird addition. “Jesper’s not cheerful, he’s just drunk.” I let go of the ‘naive’ part, deciding to focus on the bigger picture. “And I’m not as naive or joyful as you think I am.” I’m not sure if I mean that as a rebuttal or just a fact. “I have bad days too.” This isn’t the kind of conversation I should have while this tired. “I could be less cheerful if you’d like.” 

He’s so silent I momentarily wonder if he’s left. “No.” It’s not much, but I take it. Straightening my back, I pull my legs beneath me, intentionally creating space. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Ah, blatant rejection. It would sting if I was less in the right. “Maybe you’ll be less weird then.” 

“I am not being weird.” At least I’m getting some kind of reaction from him. “You’re the one who--” 

“Who what?” Finally--progress. 

Kaz sighs, turning slightly. “You’re the one who decided to ignore me after we met with the contact.” I part my lips, ready to retort, but no words come. He did pick up on my slight annoyance, and he reciprocated it in a much larger way. 

He can never know that this all came from some ridiculous, territorial--partial jealousy. “I didn’t mean to ignore you,” partial lie, “I’m just kind of in a weird place today, I’m tired.” 

“Not too tired for Jesper, it seems.” 

What? Is that what this is about? “What? All I did was sit there--he’s a touchy drunk and I just happened to be next to him.” 

“You laugh with him,” he says this blankly, “You can touch him.” 

The edge of unsafe territory cuts into me at an odd angle. Is this about him? Is he really tormenting himself over something so asinine to me when it comes to him? I’d rather have him than all the physical touch in the world. The book on the nightstand feels closer to me, growing by the prospect of its significance alone. That gesture, that’s more intimate than anything Jesper and I did downstairs. 

“So?” I straighten my back slightly. “It doesn’t mean anything.” 

He presses his lips together. “That’s the problem--anyone can manage meaningless contact…” The silence is louder than the words that came before it. Oh. I guess I’m not the only one who gets just a little jealous in an unwarranted way. “What if you were hurt? What if you were hurt and we were alone and you needed someone to help you and I couldn’t?” He lets out a sigh, a sound too tired for me to associate with him. “You say you don’t care now, but you’ll grow tired of it--the only life I can offer.” 

Inej’s words about the similarities between Kaz and I echo in my mind. “Sometimes I don’t like when things are going well because I don’t know how to be truly content, fully happy.” Saying this twists my stomach. “I don’t know how to trust good things, so whenever there are good things I think about all the ways I could ruin something and then I do.” I take a breath. “I’m not saying that things are particularly good for you or that you’re happy, but I am saying that maybe you shouldn’t think three steps ahead when there’s nothing to think ahead about.” I regard his expression carefully, but nothing has changed. “I told you the only thing I want is to know you, and that’s not going to change.”

“Y/n,” his voice is low, “I am not rain--I can’t promise you anything.” 

I scratch my knee, dropping my gaze. “For once I don’t want rain.” 

Kaz sighs. “Get some sleep.” Something about the way he’s speaking is authoritative but it lacks any weight. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

I frown freely, “Kaz--” 

“You look tired,” he mumbles, “You need rest.” He’s using this as an excuse to escape his feelings, but he’s already given me more than I expected. Greed ruins things, but then again, so does selflessness. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“For the job?”

Something strange crosses his features as his expression teeters on shifting. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeats, a little more certain.

The response doesn’t satiate me. “Kaz--” 

“I may not be the rain, but I’m capable of making promises as well.” There’s something final about the way he says this, but it doesn’t feel cruel. 

Maybe I’d protest if my eyelids were less weighted. “Goodnight, Kaz.” 

My head falls against the pillow. I’m not sure if he replies, too lost in the drawl of sleep before he can even close the door. 

--

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[mrsbrekkers]

Hi! I read your Jesper fic and it’s like my favorite that I’ve ever read honestly it was amazing! I was wondering if I could request a Jesper x reader where the reader is small and really sweet and he has a crush on her? And she like steals his clothes and he just gets rlly soft? Once again I love your writing have a great day/night and no rush!

hi there! we’ve talked over pm, but thank you again, those kind words mean the WORLD to me! i haven’t put my writing out there in a while, so this means a lot, thank you again :)

so i had a weird idea when i saw this when i woke up this morning. mind you, it’s been sitting in my requests for a few days, but i saw it and didn’t have a lot of ideas, but then inspiration struck me and brb i gotta cry over this. AHHHHHH

pairings! jesper x reader / kaz x inej ( being soulmates ) + nina x matthias ( also being soulmates ) + wylan van eck enjoying his pie

reader is again, gender neutral, but leans more female presented, BUT the pronouns they/their are used throughout

warnings! jesper and reader being the fluffest couple to walk the grishaverse, kaz endlessly shipping, kaz also pinning for inej, nina + kaz shipping reader and jesper, the crows in general shipping reader x jesper

word count; 3036 words

one-shot under cut!

this mood board was made by a friend and UGH IT TAKES IN THE FIC S O WELL!!! @r3tr0sp3ct !! thank you so much, SHFJD

5 WAYS TO TELL YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER YOU LOVE THEM

Courtesy Of Jesper Fahey, to my Dearest Y/N

5: Tease Them About How Short They Are

It was no secret that Y/N was the shortest of the crows. A mere five foot three, compared to the other Crows? They were short. Shorter than Inej by an inch or two, and by a foot compared to Matthias. Yet, it made them dangerous: able to move from place to place almost as swiftly as Inej. They were able to look unintimidating, when in reality, they could kill you, your family, and your relatives. They were able to lie their way through almost anything: another factor of people underestimating them. They were dangerous, which is why they were a part of the Crows after all. An asset, a leader even. Kaz saw them as valuable.

That didn’t stop the endless amount of teasing from the Crows though. And who had started it? Jesper Fahey.

First joining the Crows had been an impulsive decision, but one that Y/N didn’t regret. A family came with joining, and they’d lost theirs a pretty good time ago. What also came with joining was the teasing. Another day at the Crow Club, and Y/N, still relatively new to the Barrel life, was watching as Jesper gambled. They’d never understand the payoff of such quizzical acts of dumbness, but they stood there behind Jesper, confused.

Finishing the hand, Jesper glanced back at Y/N, chuckling slightly. Y/N’s eyes shifted, their glare at Jesper meeting him right in the eyes. It almost caused him to back down from what he was about to say, but he simply smirked the usual Jesper smirk. Flirtatious and bubbly. His hand swiftly moved, pulling Y/N to stand directly in front of him, the hand on their waist causing them to become flustered.

“You’re shorter than Inej,” Jesper inquired.

“I am not-” but Y/N didn’t finish their sentence. They’d already known such, but now Jesper was pointing it out. “So what?”

“It means I get to deem a new nickname for you! Inej would never let me call her anything related to her height, she threatened me with her knives. Or Kaz would glare at me, which scares me to say the least,” Jesper smiled now. He was going to have to find his way into Y/N’s good graces to fully engage in said nickname. They seemed conflicted for a moment, a pout making its way to their face.

“Does that mean I get to deem a nickname for you based on how tall you are?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow. They already had one in mind, considering Jesper was only a mere inch shorter than Matthias, the nickname still fit him.

“Well, that depends, Shortcake, what is your nickname for me?”

“Big Bear,” Y/N responded, smiling.

“Hmm, I like it. Shortcake and Big Bear. A powerful duo,” Jesper said, chuckling.

And thus, the teasing of how short Y/N was began.

4; Tell Them How Sweet They Are

The teasing didn’t stop there. Of course it didn’t. Because while the nickname ‘Shortcake’ was coined by Jesper, everyone had chosen new nicknames for how short Y/N was. Matthias called them Bubbles. Nina called them Babycakes. Wylan called them Munchkin. Inej called them Mini-me. And even Kaz had found a nickname for them; Firecracker.

But for Jesper, he wanted to find other ways to tease, or to tell Y/N what they meant to him, and low and behold, chance struck him. Eating with the Crows at one of the bakeries in Ketterdam, Y/N sitting next to Nina, with Jesper on their other side. Matthias sat next to Nina, squished between her and Inej. Wylan sat on the edge of the booth, opposite of Jesper, with Kaz sitting in a chair at the head of the booth.

Jesper glanced over at Y/N every once in a while, who was enjoying their creampuffs, he watched a bit of the filling be left on their lips. letting out a small chuckle, he watched Y/N turn toward him. “Hm?” They murmured, tilting their head. Sometimes Jesper wondered what someone like Y/N was doing in the Barrel. How Kaz had even found someone so sweet and kind roaming the streets.

“You got something a little-” Jesper raised his hand, his thumb brushing the pastry filling from Y/N’s lips. “There,” and with that, he chuckled before eating the filling. Y/N’s eyes had followed his hand the entire way, becoming flustered just as they had in the Crow Club just a few nights ago.

“That was my leftovers for later, Big Bear,” Y/N glared, their tone though was playful. The entire table now stared at them. Nina had a knowing look on their face, Matthias just seemed confused. Inej had let out a small laugh, Kaz’s eyes shifting to Inej upon hearing the sound. And Wylan? He just took another bite of his pie, his attention unwavered.

“Shortcake, you’re really telling me you would’ve saved any amount of those creampuffs as leftovers? I doubt it, they’re your favorite,” Jesper observed, making Y/N huff and taking another bite of a creampuff.

“They’re sweet and warm, of course I wouldn’t leave a single one for leftovers,” Y/N deemed, crossing their arms as they went to grab their last creampuff, but Jesper beat them to it, biting into it.

“Hmm, they’re not as sweet as you,” Jesper said, kissing Y/N’s nose, making them go cross-eyed with a smile.

“Hey! That was MY last creampuff!” Y/N said, coming to their senses after they realized Jesper had taken their last one. Before they could go to grab it though, Jesper raised it above his head. Oh, it was on. Before too long, Y/N was chasing Jesper out of the bakery, leaving the other Crows a laughing mess as they watched Jesper run, yelling for Y/N to catch him.

“Those two are soulmates,” Nina said, a wide smile on her lips as she watched Y/N practically topple Jesper onto the concrete, grabbing what was left of their creampuff and biting into it. Her eyes then shifted to Matthias.

“Soulmates.” Matthias agreed, smiling.

3; Save Them From The Bad Guy

Y/N was smart, Jesper knew that. They could probably give Jesper and Kaz a run for their money if they would like to. They were small, agile, talented. They were everything in Jesper’s eyes and more. But that didn’t make them any less susceptible to being overwhelmed during a job. They weren’t Nina Zenik. They weren’t Grisha, meaning if the right spots were hit they could indeed be overtaken.

But with Jesper by their side, that potential went down exponentially. Because whether Y/N believed it or not, and they did, Jesper would protect them with his life. They would do so for one another without hesitation. Which as Kaz put it: ‘is a dangerous prospect.’ The two didn’t care though. Well, in certain ways they did, but where was the fun in giving Kaz the satisfaction of thinking he was somewhat right? Answer: There was none.

Having just grabbed the package they needed during the job, Y/N and Jesper were about to be home free when they were spotted by the cashier, who undoubtedly worked for Pekka Rollins. Going eye wide, the two stared at the cashier for some time, and before they could come up with a Kaz level idea, the two bolted from the shop, Y/N’s hand in Jesper’s.

“We’re not dying today, Shortcake!” Jesper laughed over the commotion, the adrenaline of the job running through him as they ran.

“Hopefully not, Big Bear!” Y/N yelled, letting go of Jesper’s hand and breaking off from him. They were bigger targets together. Slipping through the crowds, Y/N ran as quickly as their legs could carry them. But speed could only make up so much when men who seemed twice your size were chasing after you.

Y/N knew Ketterdam well, but not Inej well. Not Kaz well. So when they came face to face with a wall that was too big for them to climb before the men managed to catch up, they scowled. Where the hell is Inej when you need her?

Turning to face the men who showed up, Y/N showed their hands. “Went after the wrong one,” They remarked, smirking. The men didn’t seem to be having it though, and as they stalked towards Y/N, a voice was heard behind them.

“And to think you’re usually the one saving my ass!” And then the three men fell, one bullet lodged in each of the men’s heads. Y/N looked up, smiling as they saw Jesper.

“Got the package?” Y/N asked, Jesper showcasing the bag of whatever it was Kaz had deemed they needed.

“I do, but I also have the most important package.” Jesper stepped over the bodies and took Y/N’s hand again, a wide smile on his lips.

“And what package would that be?” Y/N knew what he was going to say, but they wanted to hear it outloud

“Why you, of course!” Jesper winked, kissing Y/N’s forehead before they were off to bring the package to Kaz.

2; Let Them Borrow Your Clothes

Another night at the Crow Club, but something was unusual. Jesper was used to having a stalking Y/N behind him wondering how poker worked. This time though, they didn’t seem to be found anywhere in the Crow Club. It almost made Jesper not want to play. What was the point of playing if you didn’t have your lucky charm? There was no reason in his mind, especially as he began to have a bad streak of luck. So, standing from the table, he went to the booth Inej sat at, Kaz across from her.

“Have you guys seen Y/N?” Jesper asked, earning him a small smirk from Kaz, who simply glanced at Inej. He’d seen the newest Crow go to Jesper’s room while he’d gone down the steps. Kaz had been tempted to ask what they were doing, but he already had a feeling about what they were doing.

“They’re at the Slat,” Kaz said, deciding to rat out Y/N.

Jesper raised a brow. Weird. “Have fun you two! Inej, make sure he doesn’t come up with some more heist plans while I’m gone,” he joked, earning an eye roll from Inej. Turning from the table, he made his way out of the Crow Club, walking to the Slat and up to Y/N’s room, which was right next to his. Granted, they were really just tiny spaces meant to serve for the necessities. So, when Jesper arrived at their floor, he stopped in his tracks.

“Shortcake?”

Y/N turned, cursing as they realized they’d been caught. Instead of being adorned in their usual black attire, Y/N wore one of Jesper’s jackets.

“Listen, it was right there, it looked warm, I just really really . . . why are you walking towards me like that?” Y/N asked, watching as Jesper stepped towards them. If only they could see into Jesper’s mind, but the look in his eyes said it all. He was completely, utterly in love with the person before him. Letting out a gentle laugh, he kissed the corner of Y/N’s lips, earning him wide eyes.

“It looks better on you, although a little big, it’s perfect, Shortcake” Jesper said, in turn, he received a giddy laugh.

“Why thank you Big Bear. It is really warm, I may have to steal it,” Y/N remarked, crossing their arms and posing in the jacket for Jesper.

“You can’t steal it if I give it to you.”

“Hey! No fair. We’re criminals. I shall steal Jesper Fahey’s coat!”

“Mhm, now come on. I think you should show off your new attire at the Crow Club,” Jesper said, taking Y/N’s hand, but instead, they moved to stand beside Jesper, moving his arm so it wrapped around their waist.

When they arrived at the Crow Club once more, Inej glanced at Kaz, who now looked over his plans he’d been drawing out, his eyes on Y/N and Jesper.

“You’re so in on them being soulmates aren’t you?” Inej asked.

“Hmm, I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dearest Inej,” Kaz spoke quietly, making sure only she could hear.

1; Telling Them You Love Them

Whatever Jesper was planning, Y/N had a feeling it involved something big. They’d never seen him as frantic as he currently was. Then again, Jesper was a pretty frantic person at times, but still this probably took the cake for the most frantic. He had flowers, candies, creampuffs, not that Y/N knew all of that.

He was receiving different ways to tell people that you love them, and now he had no idea which one to go with. Nina told him pastries. Inej told him to simply be outright with it. Matthias told him some weird Fjerdan way they would do it. Wylan had shrugged, he’d never really been in love before. He hadn’t even DARED to ask Kaz for obvious reasons.

That left him with his own way of doing it. He wasn’t sure if Y/N would like it. He knew she’d like the cream puffs. But the candies? The flowers? Were they that kind of romantic?

It also didn’t help that when he’d asked everyone, he’d at first told them that he had feelings for Y/N, and they’d all replied that they knew. That didn’t help his nerves, because did that mean Y/N knew? Or were they just as oblivious as he was?

The night seemed simple enough - until it wasn’t.

The flowers didn’t smell right to Jesper, so he threw them out. The candies, as Nina revealed, were Y/N’s least favorite. The only thing he still had by the beginning of the night were the creampuffs. But he wanted to do this right. He had to do this right.

Entering the bakery, Jesper spotted Y/N at one of the booths, eating creampuffs. Well, there goes the last thing he had to give them. Making his way to the table, Jesper watched as Y/N raised their head to look at him.

“Don’t tell me Kaz sent you to come and ruin my night with some heist plans, Big Bear,” Y/N said, biting into their cream puff, humming in delight.

“Nope, just me. . . . just me,” Jesper murmured the last bit.

“Just you huh?” Y/N asked, finishing their plate and throwing it out. They stood, thanking the baker before leaving the bakery. Jesper followed behind. His mind raced with ideas on how to do this right. Maybe this was the right way? Stopping in one of the alleys, Jesper sucked in a deep breath.

“I love you!” He called to Y/N, who stalled for a moment, eyes going wide just as they did when Jesper had kissed the corner of their mouth.

“You make me rethink everything I know. You waltzed into the Crows lives, but most importantly, you waltzed into mine. I love you,” Jesper watched Y/N, seeing them laugh a bit.

“Go on, Big Bear,” Y/N spoke, walking slowly towards the gushing Jesper.

“I love the way you let me joke about your height. I love the way you get creampuff filling all over your face, you actually still have some on your lips. I love the way you joke with me during jobs, even when they go terribly wrong,” Jesper chuckled now, his smile wide.

“I love when you wear my clothes. They’re big on you. My jackets almost reach the floor. My sweaters reach your thighs. I love when you stand behind me while I’m playing cards, wondering how the game works. Or why it’s helpful. I love when you sneak into my bed late at night and lie across from me even with the small space we have, acting as if I don’t know you’re there. I love the way you chase me for your last cream puff and tackle me into the ground. But most of all, I love you . . . you, gosh do i love you,” Jesper felt out of breath. He wanted to yell from the top of rooftops that he loved Y/N. The things he’d do for them were endless.

“You know what I love about you, Jesper Fahey?” Y/N asked, tilting their head as they stopped in front of the breathless boy.

“What?”

“Everything,” and then they were on their tippy toes, their lips barely meeting Jesper’s.

The taste of cream puff filling hit Jesper first, a familiarity he knew with Y/N. Home. His fingers delicately moved to hold the back of their neck, his eyes shutting as he fully leaned down to kiss them. The pounding in his chest could likely be heard throughout the entirety of Ketterdam. He could feel the concrete underneath him, and it felt like the only stabilizer he had to keep him grounded. For if not for the concrete beneath him, he would’ve thought he was dreaming. Floating, even. But the feeling of their skin under his fingers, their lips. Everything invaded his senses and he didn’t want it to stop. He didn’t want them to stop.

Y/N had dreamed of this moment. The way Jesper’s slightly chapped lips would feel against their own, how soft his skin would feel, how his hair would feel. How he’d feel. Time felt lost, the world around them dimming as they let themself be consumed by this feeling. Nothing had felt so right. No one else existed except them.

Becoming breathless, Jesper pulled from Y/N, his eyes fluttering open as he placed his forehead against theirs. Then he felt the soft feeling of rain beginning to fall. “Isn’t that cheesy,” he chuckled, making Y/N laugh and take his hand.

“Ready to run through the rain, Big Bear?” They whispered.

Jesper didn’t answer, and instead he turned, pulling Y/N with him towards the Slat, their laughs being heard for miles.

[doyelikehaggis]

so fun fact, after i sent yesterday’s ask i watched all the way through s1 and 2 of tbbr so i uh. i’m on the s2 finale now

i always forget that this is the episode where tracy is just having a bit of a breakdown for an entire episode. honestly would’ve liked to see a bit more serious stuff with tracy, it’s kinda odd that she was the comic relief of her own show?

y’ know what. i’m gonna say it. i don’t like carmen. she’s so self absorbed? and if memory serves she does not get better in later seasons either

i am so soft for mike being a father figure to tracy. like of course he’s a father figure to all the kids. but especially tracy.

wHy is elektra treated as in the villain in this episode??? carmen was such a bitch???? what is it with this show villifying the best characters in favour of the annoying ones *glares at sasha*

i just got to s3 and oH my god.. tYLER- he is?? tiny???

honestly i love all the burnywood kids. tyler? iconic. rick?? amazing. lizanne?? queen. kitty?? literally tHE most underrated character in this whole show i will forever be pissed off they never really explained her story or even wrote her out properly

elektra’s pride flag my beloved

i forget how much Grievous Bodily Harm™️ this show contains

there may well be a second ask tonight i’m so sorry

oh my god sdkjfhsdk valid though, I usually end up binging it everytime I rewatch it as well

yeah, that's a good point. that episode was pretty serious compared to a lot of the others, and you're totally right, it would've been interesting to see more of that, especially with Tracy considering all of her trauma? Like, even TSOTB didn't REALLY do too much with Tracy. I remember being shocked when I reread the TSOTB book and picked up on the fact that Tracy was being physically abused by her mum's boyfriend and THAT's more the reason she got put into care. but the show never even really hinted at that. and then TBR just kind of continue the theme of making Tracy the comic relief without ever touching on her trauma.

that's perfectly fair. sometimes that kind of personality just doesn't meld well with others, so it's entirely reasonable that you don't like her. she is QUITE self-absorbed but I always kind of put that down to the way her mum was, too? a lot of the way that Carmen acts is the same as how she says her mum was, but the main problem is that you're right, the writers don't give her any kind of development or growth beyond like two throwaway episodes (see: the one where she becomes Harry's 'mum' and treats him horribly when Rick comes back and she realizes she's doing exactly what her mum did to her, and the episode where she's trying to get fostered by the footballer and his wife and ends up turning them down to prove to Bailey that she's better than her mum). while I do quite like Carmen, I also really wish the writers cared more. she is constantly called out by other characters for being self-absorbed (the episode where she's trying to learn science experiments for that job and ends up ruining Jody and Kaz's project and completely ignoring Floss, who was visibly upset for like the entire episode), and she has the big moment at the end of these episodes where it SEEMS like maybe she'll have some growth but she just. doesn't. and it's really disappointing on the writer's part.

oh, the relationship between Mike and Tracy makes me all warm and fuzzy. because we know that Tracy never really craved or missed having a father figure in her life. she never reflected on her terrible step-dad and wished she had a better one, and she never openly talked about waiting for her dad to come and find her like she constantly did with her mum. and I think, like she says to Mike in her last episode of tbr, that's because since the moment she went into care, she had Mike. and that just makes me feel all of the feelings !! I just love dad!Mike!!

yeah, it does bother me that Elektra is made out to be the bad guy in that episode because it was pretty clear that Carmen was in the wrong when she was being all nice and friendly to Elektra and gave her the necklace, only to take it all back the second she heard that Lily was coming back. she just dumped Elektra on the spot (which, actually, I'm realizing again comes back to her mum, and raises a really interesting parallel to her dumping Harry the moment that Rick came back into the picture...), so of course Elektra got upset. she also didn't go about it the right way, obviously, because they're both just kids and they don't really know how to handle emotions. I dunno, the writers make some interesting (and sometimes questionable) choices.

TYLER IS SO TINY!!!!

the Burnywood storyline was one of the best and it is very iconic of that care home to have given us (even if only briefly for three of them) some very iconic characters. I'm happy we got to keep Rick and Tyler but I am also a bit mad that we didn't get to keep Kitty, too, or as you said, at least get more of an explanation for her storyline. she was our second mostly non-verbal character, possibly with severe trauma, possibly autistic, and I just really think there was a lot more they could've done with her character.

ahh yes the iconic Pride Flag

oh dfkhdsk yeah, that was quite a main feature, wasn't it?

don't apologize, I am Ready and Waiting for another ask dkjfhskj

[narnie]

I did it, I couldn’t resist, I started writing a pre-SOC fic and here are some of my fav parts:

Kaz Brekker and his cane

“You should know it’s bad business to be indebted to a barrel boss. Per Haskell has been plenty patient. Kruge is kruge, and the deal is the deal. So where’s our money?”

“I don’t have it.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

Inej saw the familiar glint of Kaz’s cane, heard the whoosh and THWACK and then the accompanying crushing sound.

The mercher hollered in pain. “Damn you, Brekker! I think you broke my hand!”

“It’s quite the fitting punishment for a thief,” said Kaz coolly.

Kaz, Jesper, and his mediocre line

He turned his head to Kaz who slipped two lock picks from his sleeve and began working on the first lock. “You can’t do that,” Teek stepped toward them but stopped as Jesper lifted his pistol at him.

“Stay there unless you want me to spell your name on your chest with bullets,” said Jesper, comically cheery.

“Again with the spelling names with your bullets?” murmured Kaz as he unlocked the first lock. “You should get another line, Jes.”

Jesper pouted. “It’s a good line.”

“Mediocre at best.”

Inej fought back her laughter. There were definitely worse ways to spend her birthday.

Inej Ghafa as the Wraith

Oh Saints.

Inej had gotten distracted watching them that she failed to intercept. Swiftly, she maneuvered herself, sliding down a few feet and launching herself silently to an aerial silk that hung closer to where Teek held Jesper hostage.

“Now, it’s your turn to listen Mr. Brekker.”

“I’m all ears,” said Kaz standing up slowly, voice low.

Jesper sucked in a breath as Teek pushed the tip of his knife to his throat, drawing a drop of blood.

Inej gripped her silk with her left hand, her right hand’s fingers clutching on to Sankt Vladimir and Sankta Alina. The Wraith was ready to strike, her blood running hot through her veins, but Inej willed herself to wait for the right moment.

“Good. Because this is a Grisha blade. I believe you know how impeccable the workmanship of a Grisha is firsthand.”

Kaz gripped his cane tightly. “I do.”

Teek continued, relishing in the attention and opportunity to gloat. “With one flick of my wrist, your face will be the last thing your friend here sees in this life. Do you think he’d mind?”

Kaz’s jaw twitched. “I’m sure he would.”

“Better you than Teek’s ugly podge face,” Jesper muttered, earning himself a warning glare from Kaz.

Teek wasn’t finished gloating. “Will you pray for him if he dies, Brekker?”

Kaz smiled menacingly and Inej could make out Lozo Teek’s hand shaking slightly. “No. But my Wraith will.”

“How unfortunate she isn’t here,” the mercher said, regaining his composure. “I would have loved to compare blades. Word on the street says she has quite the collection.”

Gauging the mercher’s smug carelessness, Inej loosened her grasp on the silk, sliding down and dropping right behind Teek soundlessly. In one quick movement, her left hand grabbed Sankta Alina from her right, pressing the blade to his rib. Her right arm circled his neck and Sankt Vladimir pressed into his throat, demanding payment in the form of a small trickle of blood.

She hated the contact of her hand on his neck but the Wraith relished the feeling of his pulse quickening and the sound of his frightened, pained gasp.

“Word on the street is correct,” Inej whispered in his ear. Then, with a tone that scared even Jesper, she added, “Now drop your blade and release my friend unless you want to be acquainted with mine.”

The sound of the blade clattering on the floor was his response.

[doorsclosingslowly]

From Each According to Their Ability, To Each According to Their Need

A good relationship is just teamwork: everyone has their strengths and some things they can’t or won’t do, and the trick is fitting everything together. Jesper has the charm, the shamelessness, the beauty, and the reckless disregard for his heart and self-preservation, so he’ll be the crumple zone in-between Inej’s morals and Kaz’ cold reticence. He’ll get them through this fight. He’ll make this relationship work.

10k | Jesper/Kaz/Inej | Sun Summoner Jesper AU | content note: explicit sex

Jesper has a good reason for why he’s been sitting inside Kaz’ office while Kaz does paperwork and Inej sharpens her knives. A great, important reason. He’s not a masochist for boring himself to death. Okay, so he’s also miserably bored and jittery and it’s been an hour and he’s already tired of un- and reloading his guns over and over so the motions become as fast as possible. The minutes are crawling like ants under his skin. If he was anywhere else, he’d have left in search for a card table a long time ago, but those busy eyes will focus on his back the second he gets up, and they’ll know exactly where he’s headed, and—maybe he doesn’t want to give them another reason to talk about him when he can’t defend himself. It isn’t spite that keeps him rooted down here, but… close enough.

So if putting his cards to their intended use is out, why not… On the first try, though, the stack of cards that was supposed to take the loose shape of the Crow Club collapses when he’s at the third layer. Fucking ants. Kaz doesn’t even look up from his paperwork, only grits his teeth and viciously swipes away the three of hearts that landed right on the last word he’s written. The word’s smudged, and the card’s back has an ink blot on it. Marked. Ruined.

Before Kaz can get in the customary insult about his lack of work ethic, Jesper huffs, “I’m finetuning my dexterity.” Kaz doesn’t even bother with the easy follow-up insult (“If that’s supposed to be dexterity, you’d better write your will before I send you on the next job. Except you can’t even bequeath anything but your ugly shirt. How long did it take you to lose the last kruge I paid you? Forget dexterity, practice winning a single card game sometime.” But why is Jesper doing all of Kaz’ work for him when he doesn’t even care enough to look up?!)

Either he’s genuinely too busy or still angry from whatever fight he had with Inej two days ago that they stopped the instant Jesper opened the door—and still taking it out on Jesper, who wasn’t even there—or he’s decided that scattering playing cards all over his table is still better than the next form of fidgeting Jesper might come up with. Either way, Kaz leaves him alone to try again. It only barely helps. There’s no thrill in playing with himself—at least this way, but even wanking’s no fun when the only two faces he wants to imagine above him right now are angry and keeping secrets.

No, they need to talk first. That’s why he’s here. Why he’s enduring this agony.

He’s waiting for the tension to burst. He just didn’t expect it to take hours. Kaz and Inej, though, are both some sort of hyper-patient freaks. Utterly devoid of mercy. Trust Jesper to fall for the strangest, worst, cruellest amazing people in all of Ketterdam. They’re not going to make the first move. And Jesper doesn’t want to, either.

It was going so well in the beginning. He had Kaz coming undone—coming, from his hand, in his arms, and passing out from how great the sex was, and then the next day him and Inej and Kaz had a conversation that went incredibly well, too. “Yesterday was so good and I think you liked being able to touch me when I’m glowing, so let’s do it again sometime? And I like Inej as well as you and she likes me too and she adores you, and you love her, so—let’s try this as the three of us?” or however it went in detail, Jesper was honestly too nervous at the time to really remember anything but the way Kaz frowned until his blotchy red cheeks betrayed him and he nodded and Inej said something moving and clever that Jesper wishes he could recall. They agreed, though, he’s sure of it. They agreed to give it a try.

So after that he’s been going up to Kaz’ bedroom in the night sometimes and practicing “unleashing the sun” as he now calls it (no not his dick), and complimenting Inej and kissing her hand like she’s a lady from a penny play, the way he’d usually do anyway but it’s more, now, since they’ve both agreed it can mean something different. It makes her laugh at him, anyway, careless and bright, which is what matters. Calling her darling and love and dearheart. Buying her snacks. And he’s made himself scarce occasionally when Kaz and Inej are together, but they probably didn’t notice neither his exit nor his presence in the first place, caught up in some silent conversation.

Anyway. It went great. Jesper spent weeks almost bursting with joy. He got sent out to intimidate a guy from the Liddies and terrified him into submission just on the strength of how widely he was grinning. He’s happy. Inej was happy. Even Kaz was vituperating failing Dregs with less hatred than usual, and it was all because they’re together now, together as more than a quasi-Barrel Boss and his favoured stooges, which honestly is a rush much bigger than gambling, bigger than alcohol, bigger than going supernova (Reverse order of fun there. Lighting up is the most intense thing Jesper’s ever felt, blotting out every other desire, the only time outside a gun battle when he can’t even remember what gambling feels like, but he does not like it).

And then, a two days ago, the fight. He interrupted something that wasn’t meant for him—that was about him, though, he’s sure, if the way Kaz’ dark eyes back then bored bloody holes into his chest were anything to go by—he saw them and they shut him out and later, Inej materialized in front of him and asked Jesper whether he was okay, for reasons he cannot understand. When he went back up to Kaz’ bedroom Kaz hissed at him to leave, because he ‘just wanted to sleep’. He looked tired, too, but not the exhaustion of work but emotional turmoil, loathing, dread, that Jesper could have helped him forget. Except he didn’t want Jesper to try. He didn’t want Jesper. He’s been avoiding Jesper like the Queen’s Lady, not even assigning him work, and he’s been even more grumpy than usual, too. Vicious, brutal, with everyone. Even Inej.

So now Jesper’s stubbornly sitting in a room with a man who suddenly hates him and a woman who won’t explain, enduring the torture of quiet parallel work until someone cracks, and maybe it won’t even be him.

If it’s not working out, it’s, well—not fine, Jesper’s going to be absolutely heartbroken, but he’s broken up before with people he might not have adored as much, and didn’t work for besides, people who weren’t the terrors of the Ketterdam underworld, but it was okay. He got over it. He’s not a child.

He’d just like to know it’s over before he makes an absolute fool of himself. No. Makes more of an absolute fool of himself. Thanks, imaginary insulting Kaz, but that one was pretty weak. Jesper’s even losing his Kaz imitation skills now, and it’s only been two days of complete disregard and freeze-out. What if he can’t solve this? What if it’s forever?

The cards scatter across Jesper’s corner of Kaz’s working table—one landing right next to Kaz’ pen, again—and they spread out all over the floor and, ignoring Kaz’ hateful glare and Inej’s concerned one, he quickly dives under the desk to pick them up. Kaz’ good leg is tensing rhythmically, as if he wants to tap it, wants to run—except Jesper’s wrong there, because Kaz never runs away—and his bad one looks miserably taut. Yet another thing the Sun Summoner could help him with, if Mr Dirtyhands Bastard of the Barrel Brekker, terror of Ketterdam, inspiration for the sexiest creep in all of dirt cheap fiction, gang leader in all but name, would deign to speak to him. It’s the only thing Jesper’s power is good for. No use, though. Jesper comes back up and sits down with a baleful sigh and expertly shuffles his cards. Shuffles them again. He could invent a few new tricks, but… he checks the pockets of the coat he’s slung over his chair, and he doesn’t have a marked deck in there. He’s stuck with the genuine article. He doesn’t usually play with marked cards after all: if Jesper’s in control of what’s going to happen, it’s not gambling anymore, just work.

It’s just, if Jesper messed it up again, he’d like the chance to make amends. Apologize. Work it out, maybe, if that’s on the cards, get screamed at, or find a place on a boat if it’s so irreparable Kaz just wants him gone. If it’s something in Kaz’ or Inej’s past, he can’t do anything, since Inej barely trusts him with the clean-picked bones of what was done to her at the Menagerie and Kaz doesn’t trust him at all, so. Fuck.

Whatever it is, Jesper didn’t notice because he’s an idiot. He was floating on what he thought was requited love, and the sudden safety of Kaz hiding his identity as the Sun Summoner, and how well they all fit together. Kaz, the miserable bastard, opening up slightly and allowing himself to feel good; Inej being safe and cherished and in control; and beside them, Jesper, laying the world and his heart at their feet. He thought.

But now everything’s fucked, and Kaz and Inej still haven’t cracked. They’re working as normal, if without any of the little exchanges that Jesper’s come to cherish. Still: he’s almost bursting out of his skin with the need to run, to gamble, to fight and maybe even lose, get worked over a little (if he’s lucky, at least Inej will worry about his bruises), and his paramours are both just at work. They’re both okay. It’s not fair. Jesper’s wanted for more money he’s ever seen in every country he can name because he’s the fucking Sun Summoner, but honestly? He’s normal compared to those two. How are they still sitting still? How is anything they do now up to their own exacting standards? Don’t they feel the tension? Can’t they feel Jesper’s agony?

Card houses are boring; shuffling is excruciating. Shooting cards in mid-air? But Kaz will definitely complain if the office smells like gun powder, let alone the potential damage to his precious stolen décor. He’ll complain, which means he’ll look at Jesper. Insult him. Eviscerate him. Order him to fuck off even, probably, and Jesper’s already got his gun out and ready but—it’s no use. It’s not what will scratch this bleeding itch. He can’t bear this anymore.

Someone has to throw themselves on this kindled bomb before it explodes, so it might as well be Jesper. He’s got the least dignity to lose.

He pulls on his most devil-may-care smile, and then he says, “You’re both breaking up with me, right?”

“Jes…” Inej looks up, shocked.

Kaz doesn’t say anything. His face hardens, and he looks back down at his paperwork. Not writing anything, though, so Jesper knows at least he’s paying attention. At least he’s vaguely interested.

“You can tell me. It’s fine.” I should have expected it, Jesper bites back. This is bad enough already. He doesn’t need to look more of a sad idiot than necessary, but they’re just staring up (Inej) and down (Kaz), giving him more time to think: more time to make mistakes, with cruelty so well-aimed it might almost be intentional, time to be to be impulsive, maudlin. I was pretty sure you’re in love with each other even before this started. Fuck, I was great playing third wheel before, and I’m pathetic enough I’ll cheerfully go back to it. I love you. I want you to be happy. The itching under Jesper’s skin is still there, and he needs a gamble, a fight, a—he needs to stop. He won’t hurt them. “Just tell me, please?”

“Jesper, no—”

“You’re both tense and angry, and you haven’t talked to me in two days.” He looks at Inej, who’s furrowing her brow, ready to argue, but— “You asked me how I was doing but you didn’t talk. Kaz won’t even look at me. You won’t even give me work, boss, and I know you don’t tolerate freeloaders. And you shied away when I tried to hug you, Inej. You didn’t do that before. I saw you arguing, and I know it was about me, and—I’m sorry. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. I’ll go, if you want.”

There. It’s out. He’s done his part. Fighting this would be more humiliating, and if there’s anything that gambling has taught him, it’s how to take a loss on the chin and keep on going. The itching under his skin’s receding, but he doesn’t feel any better. Just tired.

“No, Jesper. Why do you assume—” Earlier, Inej turned her whole body towards Jesper, arranged in a careful pose of openness that couldn’t disguise her nerves and that made Jesper feel more exposed but less alone, at least, but now her body turns as her eyes flicker over to Kaz. They stare at each other, another silent fight, and then he glares back down at his paperwork. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

This time, Kaz should say here, and doesn’t. Fuck, Jesper misses his mockery.

“We’re worried it’s not reciprocal,” Inej says.

“Not reciprocal? What do you mean? That’s ridic—” except Da used to tell Jesper he’s overwhelming in his enthusiasm, just like a whirlwind, when Jesper cried to him about some neighbour kid or other not coming shooting with him even though she’d agreed; that when he got into something it was hard to say no to him even if—fuck. Fuck. And now, Inej had to protect Kaz from—

“No, Jes, not that,” Inej cuts in quickly, shocked by his bare-faced horror. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

“What do you mean, then?” Jesper can’t keep himself from glowering, still bruised from the implication.

“You pleasure Kaz and then you leave. You don’t have to do that. You’re not a servant. Not a sla—” She bites off her words, but Inej’s said enough. Jesper knows what she means.

“Something reminded you of the Menagerie, didn’t it?” he asks softly. In the corner of his eyes, he can see Kaz—flinch, as if Jesper had struck him, as if he’d touched him, and he doesn’t know what it means. What it means for them, for the relationship with Kaz that Jesper still wishes he could have. What it means, that Kaz acts as if Jesper can hurt him.

He still doesn’t understand the fight, Kaz’ reaction, but he does know what Inej’s afraid of. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine. I really like it, actually.”

“Even so—” Inej looks dubious, and Jesper’s got to move ‘world-class actor’ way up to the front of his truly extensive list of skills, if he’s somehow managed to fool her into missing the torch he’s carried for Kaz for pretty much the entire time they’ve known each other—“you’re vulnerable, Jesper. No, Jes, listen to me—” because of course she’s anticipated his grimace— “you don’t have any control in this situation. The Dregs. The Sun Summoning. The kruge you owe. Kaz has far too much power over you.”

“Kaz is our boss. He’s ordering both of us around.”

“And there are things I won’t do for him. Can you say the same? What if you want to stop one day? Could you?”

“I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it.” Jesper chances a look over at Kaz. He’s blank, not even angry, completely still except for the muscle jumping in his jaw. But he’s watching Jesper. Finally, finally, he’s meeting Jesper’s eyes.

“Jesper—”

“Look at me,” Jesper says, and since they’re already watching him more intently than any fat-walleted Pigeon already, he stretches his arms over his head—gratifyingly, despite the tension, both Kaz’ and Inej’s eyes trace the strong lines of his jaw and neck. He pulls his shoulders back when he drops his arms so the open collar of his lush pale green shirt reveals as much of his chest as possible. “Look at me again. I’m the most handsome guy in Ketterdam. The funniest. The best lay. I slept with plenty of people before I started this thing with you, and I could pick anyone if it ends. There were cries of despair all over the Barrel when they realized I was off the market.”

“Stop blowing smoke up your own ass and get to the point.” Kaz, as intended, looks disgusted at Jesper’s ego, but no longer miserably vicious. Viciously miserable. And he’s talking. Inej loses a little of her worry to involuntary amusement, too.

“The point is: I’m here instead. So clearly, I want to be here. I want this, I want you—” Inej wears a tiny smile— “and if you keep questioning me, what you’re really impugning is my incredible beauty and sexual magnetism and superb taste, and honestly, that’s offensive.” Even Kaz snorts, so score… let’s say, five, for Jesper. “Also, really, you should have stalked me back to my bedroom after. The images I get are more than enough for some quality time with my hand.”

(Kaz, flushed and stunned and staring straight into Jesper’s eyes.)

(Inej’s lips on his cheek and on his neck.)

“I’m good. Don’t worry about me. I’ll follow you whenever, whyever, wherever. That’s my job, right?”

“That’s the problem, Jes.” Inej’s rolling her eyes, but she looks much less apprehensive now. Just fond.

“We both know you couldn’t… well, obviously you could make me do something I don’t want to, you do it all the time. I don’t like bouncer duty, especially if no fight breaks out. I don’t like watching card games when I’m not allowed to play. I don’t like sniping in the middle of the night. You think I lucked into a face like this without guarding my beauty sleep? But that’s it, right? I’d be complaining the whole time. I’m not complaining here. I’m an enthusiastic participant.”

“You will kill Mark Heener, even if you have to stay up all night for a month. That’s an order,“ Kaz rasps, and really? That’s what he got out of Jesper (almost) baring his heart?

“I feel safe with you.” He looks at Inej, who’s actually fucking interested. Inej, who’s starting to look less afraid now, and because he’s always going to feed his own heart to hungry dogs to make her happy, he adds, “I like you. Both. That should be obvious.”

Inej glows. Jesper keeps his eyes trained on her, because he really doesn’t need Kaz’ derision, he doesn’t, even though he’s curious—oh yeah, he’s already looked. And Kaz doesn’t look happy exactly at Jesper’s dangerously-close-to-a-confession, but there’s none of the contempt or revulsion that Jesper forced himself not to be afraid of that made him keep his feelings quiet, more—fear. Confusion. As if the problem isn’t that Jesper hopes that Kaz loves him back. But that Jesper loves him.

“Oh, seriously, Kaz, I was never subtle about finding you attractive.”

“There is a vast difference between lust and… this. I can’t give you what you want. I will never touch you. I’m the Bastard of the Barrel. Dirtyhands.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “I’ve never actually cared—”

“I know three channels by which to contact the Little Palace,” Kaz hisses. “Five ways to lure you there without you catching on, and at least fifteen to subdue you should you resist. All your fears. Your secrets. Your addictions and abject weaknesses. Should I ever need the money—”

“And yet, I’m still here,” Jesper cuts in, before Kaz can say something that really hurts. “You saved my life more times than I can count. Three million kruge wasn’t enough for you to sell me out. And two weeks ago, you bullied me into promising I’ll only gamble at Dregs establishments because—”

“I’m tired of paying you wages only to watch everything disappear into the Dime Lions’ coffers. You’re the pigeonest pigeon in all of Ketterdam, and I want those fat stacks of money you lose every night to go to me exclusively.”

Jesper grins at him. It won’t help his case much to continue the argument about how only gambling in Dregs’ houses means Kaz can cut Jesper off, or make sure he won’t get beat up by those he owes money to, or that Kaz actually explained his contingency plans for when Jesper’s revealed as the Sun Summoner to Jesper, in person, only a few weeks ago. Kaz knows what Jesper suspects, and Jesper knows that Kaz knows he does, and Kaz knows what Jesper thinks about the fact that Kaz knows Jesper suspects he secretly does like him, and so fucking on and so fucking forth, and Inej does too, probably, even though she doesn’t enjoy the dance, the paper chase for affection, even half as much as Jesper does. Anyway.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me, Kaz,” Jesper purrs. The way you look at me when I’m touching your dick, like you want to burn my face you’re your brain. “You’re not as good a liar as you think. You want me too. You both want me. I can’t blame you, I’m gorgeous.”

“I can’t give you what you want. I will never touch you, Jesper. Never.”

He’s so focused on that, as if Jesper hadn’t told him—three times, probably, already that those words won’t hurt him, won’t scare him off. “That’s a fairy tale view of sex,” Jesper says. “The idea that there’s one true way of sleeping with people. That everything must be symmetrical—that within the confines of anatomical possibilities, everyone has to act out their role or it’s not true love, and that it’s penetrative, and naked, and kissing, and with the lights on. Out. I don’t really care.”

Kaz bristles, though Jesper hopes it’s more because he called an aspect of Kaz’ worldview fairy tale than because Kaz actually believes some of that horseshit. He can’t quite read Inej. Impressed, worried, sorry? He ploughs on..

“I’ve never planned a decent heist before. I can’t disappear into thin air like a fucking ghost. Not that good with knives, but neither of you can actually handle a gun—not that well, boss, or you wouldn’t send me out to play sniper. I can’t look at a bleeding wound, but you can. Et fucking cetera. We do different things, and that’s what makes us a lethal team. Sex is just another heist.”

“An interesting philosophy,” Kaz rasps. “Simplified to the point of complete incoherence.”

Fuck him. Jesper’s put thought into this, okay? “There are far more ways to have sex that don’t involve touch. That don’t involve the guy sticking his dick somewhere and rutting until he gets off. It’s only fun when you’re doing it with your partners, not acting to a script.” Jesper smiles at Inej, Kaz, Inej again, open and friendly. Trying not to let his heart betray how desperate he is for them to believe them, for this to work. “You have to trust me, though. Trust me when I say that something gets me going. Trust me when I say I’ll stop you if I don’t like it. You don’t have to understand, it doesn’t have to be something that arouses you, but if I say I like it, I do. And if you don’t like it, if it brings back memories you don’t want or you just don’t want to do it, we’ll stop, of course, but that’s for you. Don’t make my choices for me.”

“I hope this plan of yours is better than the last one you came up with,” Kaz rasps.

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” Jesper grins widely. Gently. He’s so close now to everything he’s ever dreamed of. “I promise I’ll stop this when I’m unhappy, if you promise the same thing.” Then he offers his hand for Kaz to shake, and Kaz actually takes it. “The deal is the deal.”

He repeats the ritual with Inej, and then watches her and Kaz shake, even though she’s not Kerch enough to put much trust into the oath and also too clever to really need it. This is for Kaz, though: so he can believe he’s not forcing anyone because they’ll veto, and for Inej to see that Kaz sees this as the terms of the deal. Watching the reflections of shadows, et cetera.

His guns, Jesper leaves on top of Kaz’ paperwork next to his scattered deck and his holster.

Then, he saunters into the pitch-black bedroom. It’s probably best the curtains stay closed. Jesper has negative amounts of control over his power at the best of times, and when he’s getting lucky—well it didn’t used to happen, but then, he didn’t used to sleep with Kaz Brekker and Inej Ghafa either. Kaz lights a candle before he closes the door, and that’s better, anyway. Whatever the situation may warrant—and there’s conflicting opinions, perhaps, because Kaz would laugh if he heard but—it looks romantic.

Jesper undresses slowly. One by one, he pushes the shirt buttons through their holes with deft, deliberate movements. It’s not nerves. He’s not shy about his body: he knows he’s gorgeous, has undressed for others often enough though he’s never had the chance to take his time like this, and even before he tried talking it out with Kaz and Inej today he knew they found him attractive. That, at least, was assured. His body is the one thing he’s always been sure of, and he isn’t baring himself now, not like he did earlier. There are no painful, invisible scars on his skin, not like those his lovers bear. The lines and holes on his belly are from battle or clumsiness. What you see is what you get. And what you see is…

He grips the right cuff of his gorgeous pale green ruffled shirt—worn especially for Kaz today, because Kaz hates it—and then he pulls his arm out before he swings the empty sleeve over his head, stretching, showing off the taut long line of his torso, and then he lets the shirt drop to the floor. He doesn’t look at either of them. He doesn’t need it. He’s not that insecure.

Besides, the utter silence in the room, apart from the ticking wall-clock, is answer enough. No rustling of minuscule movement, no words, no breath. Like awe. Like fear. And so—

“You know, this is usually when the applause starts.”

Two voices in unison. “Shut up, Jesper.”

And that’s what Jesper’s been missing. If he makes this fun, exasperating, ridiculous, then maybe he can steal the tension from their backs. He’ll convince them he likes it. Them. It’s lucky, then, that Jesper’s as exceedingly talented at being a jokesmith as he is as a gunslinger and a lover. They’d never get through this without him.

Jesper bends down to unbuckle his boots. He doesn’t bother with graceful this time, and then he says, “We should hire DeKappel.” A beat so Kaz can start formulating various schemes Jesper might be proposing, and then, “Jurda fields are nice and all, but if he’s trying to capture true beauty… Well, he’s not going to, not until he paints one of me undressing.”

“DeKappel is dead, Jesper,” Kaz rasps drily, and Jesper throws his boots into a random corner.

“I thought you were a criminal genius. You’ll find a way to hire him anyway, for this ass,” Jesper shoots back, and then he pulls his trousers and underwear down with a single, suave movement. Unfortunately, he’s trying too hard to be cool: never a good look, and so uncharacteristic for Jesper who usually does not put any effort to enhance his natural amazingness—he doesn’t need it, but he might be a little nervous—but anyway, he fails getting them off in one fell swoop and tangles up his legs somehow. He hops around the room, trying not to fall. It wasn’t even planned, and Inej’s laughing. Unburdened, bellydeep delight in his misfortune: music in Jesper’s ears. Kaz is scowling, either because of the chaos Jesper brought to his once-pristine bedroom, or because he’s trying not to join her. Definitely the second. Jesper’s lost count of how much he scored already in the private game of putting Kaz at ease.

Inej strips down to her quilted undershirt and her underpants efficiently. No flourish, no stumbling: the master showing how it’s done right, which Jesper tells her, and is rewarded with another huff of laughter.

Jesper preens. Stretches, showing off his half-hard dick, and realizes he’s still wearing his striped socks.

“Leave them,” Inej orders.

And who is Jesper to deny his lady her wishes?

Kaz is still standing by the door. Awkward gloved fingers picking at the collar of his shirt. His eyes meet Inej’s for some time while he loosens his tie, and then Jesper’s. Jesper quickly looks away, before Kaz can get angry at him for seeing something he shouldn’t. Still. “Should I…?”

“If you feel better wearing your clothes, keep them on,” Jesper tells him as confidently as he can with his heart beating against his throat. “Like I said, there are no rules. No implications. No meanings. Sit down on your chair, if you like. Pull it over here, so you can get a good view,” and without even a complaint, with gratifying haste, Kaz obeys. “You’ve never met a rule you didn’t break, creatively, viciously, for enormous profit. We’re thieves. Gangsters. And I like your suit, it makes you look hot.”

Kaz glowers at him, but his cheeks are red.

Jesper grins back. “Very sleek. Modern. I know you’re dressing as a mercher, but honestly, none of them come close to looking anything as good as you, so I’m sorry to say. Failure. You’re too handsome to be a mercher. Have you seen them?”

It’s fun, complimenting Kaz, and it’s even more fun having both of them stare at the way he marches over to the bed and languidly stretches out, lies down, cock bobbing slightly, their eyes tracing up and down his body, but… “Not that you’re not really stroking my ego right now—stroking it hard, wet, twist at the end, just how I like it,” Jesper does his best lustful leer, and nearly ends up laughing at himself because he’s trying (too hard? Not enough? Trying to sabotage it before it even starts?), “but you do know I’m not good at laying still? I’m going to fidget unless we do something.”

“If I minded your need for movement, I’d have gotten rid of you years ago,” Kaz rasps. “These are your rules. I thought you were all about breaking them. If you want to move, move.”

And Jesper hates to admit it, but once again, Kaz is right. “I guess that’s why you’re the boss, boss,” and blissfully, Jesper braces his feet against the footboard, arching his back, dangling the left foot over the edge and then changing his mind, tapping his heel against the wood in an offbeat rhythm.

Kaz is watching him, eyes gone even darker with arousal, and yeah—from his vantage point, he’s probably got a really decent view of Jesper’s ass right now.

“Inej—what do you want to do? Or if you haven’t decided yet. if you’re comfortable, on the bed with me, I just want to lay my head in your lap.”

And then, Inej’s suddenly next to him. Jesper still doesn’t know how she manages it. He was looking at her! Only glancing back over to Kaz to find out how he took the suggestion, and then the next instant Inej’s pushing Jesper up by his shoulders and sliding under him. Jesper lets his head plop down. “You’re such a weird fucking miracle, you know that?”

Inej, grinning, pets his face.

“Hey! I mean it. You’re the weirdest person in this room. The nicest, and you do know we’re all gangsters, so nice is weird. Not the most beautiful, though—I’m afraid that adjective was created just for me,” because if he doesn’t make a joke now he’ll only get sappier, and then Jesper starts lightly touching his own skin, running his hands over his nipples and his stomach and the burls and snarls of long-healed wounds. Inej’s generous hands touch his mouth, and from behind the foot of the bed Kaz’s heated stare completes the tableau. They mocked him for it, but this is safe. This is nearer than heaven. This— “I like this one.”

“You nearly bled out. And when that wasn’t enough, you burned up,” Kaz hisses.

“But I didn’t. Inej got me back to the Slat, and you refused to even look at me for the week I spent in bed until she found a healer. You were so angry. I thought you were going to kill me if the sepsis didn’t.” You were angry because I was showing off and it nearly got me killed, Jesper doesn’t say. Because you wanted me to live. That’s when I found out you care.

Kaz, though, looks far too uncomfortable, and Inej’s stopped petting Jesper. That’s what happens when he gets too distracted. Too comfortable with them. “You don’t have to say it,” he soothes. “I know why. But this is getting boring, so, tell me what you want me to do. What you’d like to do to me. This is a judgment free zone. Except for Kaz judging me, I think I’ve developed a fetish. At this point I don’t even know whether I could get off without a rasped insult or two.”

Kaz scowls at him.

“I could pretend to be deeply embarassed, if you like.”

Kaz scowls.

“I did actually mean it when I said, ‘tell me your fantasies’.”

Kaz keeps scowling. Then, after a while, while Inej slowly grows bolder exploring Jesper’s face, pushing her fingers into his mouth and asking him to suck, he whispers, “I would touch your face first, Inej. Pull you toward me and kiss you, and feel your breasts against my body. Slide down, lick it, while Jesper kisses my neck.”

He speaks clearly, without hesitation, but something keeps Jesper from sinking along into the fantasy. Kaz, naked, caressing Inej and licking her tits, while Jesper sucks bruises into his neck… something feels off, wrong, and Kaz is smiling confidently but then, he’s a great actor when the heist calls for it. He’s a great actor. He’s acting. Kaz, naked… This isn’t him, or if it is his genuine fantasy: this is him wishing he wasn’t himself.

He’s sharing his fantasies but—

“How about something a little more practical. Inventive. We don’t need to skip straight to touching. I have plenty of fantasies where you’re not touching anyone at all, or not touching me with anything but your gloves or your boots or your cane. A letter-opener. The Crow Club’s expense filings. I’m not picky.”

Torn between disbelief and—intrigue, Kaz looks intrigued, and that’s going to fuel so many nights now, that cane head trailing down Jesper’s naked chest, the idea that Kaz might actually want…

“You can use a lot of things to touch people. You do it all the time, Kaz. It’s not a power thing,” because he doesn’t want to worry Inej right now, and if the idea of Jesper stroking Kaz off reminded her of bad experience he might need to talk to her in private before he expands on this. If only the two of them actually trusted him and told him, out loud, what fucked them up and how Jesper can reconcile both of their issues. He’s running blind, though, and the only safe territory is jokes. “Not always, anyway, and not right now. Right now, object insertion’s called being practical.”

But Kaz has fixated on something else entirely. “Expense filings? How the fuck would I use paper to get you off?”

Jesper just threw it in there for fun, but actually, “Paper bends. You could wrap your dick in it, get a layer between yourself and my lips, and I bet it’ll feel at least as weird as getting touched by the sun. You could make an entire paper suit, too, it’s thinner and stiffer than cloth so it’ll distort the sensation of Inej’s hands. With a nice paper tie, too, and maybe a paper hat.” He’s really getting into this, now. Kaz, stripping down, and then slowly building up a new armour just so Inej and Jesper can touch him… “In solidarity, both Inej and me have donned paper suits as well. Inej doesn’t even rustle when she moves because she’s ridiculous, and mine has strategic cut-outs. Wouldn’t want to deprive you of all this beauty. It really makes a dent in Kaz’ paperwork, anyway—at least halves the amount of things he has to read tonight, so he has much more time to spend with us. Which is good, because it takes hours to construct all our suits.”

Kaz looks sincerely disturbed. Inej’s hiding her face in her hands. She groans in despair, and the sound goes straight to Jesper’s dick. At least one out of the three of them’s getting off on his hard creative work.

“Oh, come on! At least half of Kaz’ schemes are more convoluted and incomprehensible than this. And yet, they always work. I really think I deserve the benefit of the doubt here. I’d really like to wrap my lips around a roll of those dull reports you read while you’re ignoring me. Slick them up with my tongue. Bleed the ink. Lick all the way down to the signatures…”

“Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not, boss. But improvising a million plans with whatever’s available is your job, boss. I’m just thinking out loud.”

“Stick to your strengths, Jesper. Thinking clearly isn’t it.” A beat. Kaz looks both impatient and strangely, uncharacteristically unsure. “You don’t mind? Not that. Using gloves?”

That’s what spurs Jesper into honesty. Overcompensating with humour keeps him safe, but if one of them must be embarrassed here—well, it’s just wrong when it’s Kaz. He flushes. “The leather’s hot, Kaz. It’s what makes it special. They’re a part of you, and I wonder what it would feel like, those gloves on my body. The cane’s you, too. And I think about you, not some person you could have been. You, and if that’s feeling your gloves… I’ve imagined it.”

“So that’s what you like,” Kaz rasps. “Being fondled by a cripple.”

“Kaz—”

“The last person who said something far less insulting about my boss, I shot in the head,” Jesper snipes back. “You should know, I don’t tolerate anyone dismissing Kaz Brekker like that.”

Inej looks angry, but now that she can see Kaz’ quick incredulous flush, far less angry than she was back then. They’d both gone out for pastries, and in the queue a couple of patrons had been talking about the Dregs’ recent expansion into Liddies territory and the woman had made the unwise choice of talking about the Dregs’ de-facto leader in front of Jesper. Inej had tried to pull him home quickly after they bought their gemberbolussen but Jesper’d waited for the woman outside the shop, and—

Kaz, though, swallows what might have been pleasure. He probably doesn’t like being defended, or being seen to like being defended, or… Anyway, he hisses, “Are you ashamed of the monster I am? We should end this farce now, then. The idea that I might become anyone but Dirtyhands, just for you, is illusory.”

Inej hides her face in her hands. It’s impossible to tell whether it’s exasperation or an attempt to hide her laughter.

Jesper, at least, is hiding both. “Kaz, I just said I kill people for mocking you. I meant—well, most of what I said about using objects. I’m not claiming the moral high ground. And you know I don’t mind Dirtyhands—I even found Matz Drescher hot and he was way more of a dick than you. Sorry, he was a much smaller dick,” he says, when Kaz starts scowling. “I meant to say—he had a much smaller dick.”

Kaz still looks hilariously offended—or offended again for a new reason—and so does Inej, who’d complained to Jesper at length after Pim brought The Misfortunes of Virtue to the Slat’s eating room and then explained to her what it was about. Jesper couldn’t really understand then whether she disliked the impropriety of reading pornography in a common room or the blasphemy more, or how funny Pim found the Kaz caricature, but he didn’t care: he went out and bought it the same day.

“But Kaz. I don’t mind a single thing about who you are,” Jesper spells out, because Kaz is a genius, but if he’s still hung up on the idea that Jesper’s not totally in love with him, he’s also the stupidest man alive. “I’m game for whatever you need. Gloves, no contact, dickishness, whatever. What either of you need. I’ll be the crumple zone. I’m committed to figuring this thing out.”

Then, because Kaz is still just staring, surprise, want, grief and so much more flickering over his face: and Jesper hadn’t dropped out of university he’d probably be ready to write a monograph or two about his chosen field, Kaz-expression-ology, now… Because Jesper could watch him forever and it still wouldn’t tell him any more than he knows right now, he hides his face against Inej’s quilted undershirt.

And quickly emerges again, because Jesper doesn’t hide from his feelings. Often. More than once a minute, at least, but he’ll force himself to make this one of the occasions. Because if he doesn’t, if everything grinds to a halt here, they’ll realize what lies below what he just said, the abject love, and so he puts cheer in his voice and says, “But anyway. Back to business. We were in the process of having sex.”

Inej’s still watching Jesper far too keenly.

“How about I eat you out?” Jesper allows his eyes a quick dart to Kaz—who looks hungry, no problems there right now—before he stretches his head back as far as it’ll go, looking up at upside-down Inej now grinning down at him. “I think you might like it. I’m very, very good. What do you think, o invisible silent Wraith, robber of all Ketterdam’s secrets? Ready to find out why every nonnevot is so incredibly lucky to be devoured by me?” He raises his left hand with pointer and middle finger spread, and licks, slowly, all the way up from the v to the tips and down again, while giving his best, most intense smoulder to Inej. Inej, who’s giggling at him again.

“Stop, stop,” she begs, hiding her face in her hands.

“I thought you were supposed to be good at this,” Kaz rasps, sounding fond and just as amused as Jesper wants him.

“Sorry.” Jesper licks his lips and drops his voice even lower, a suave rumble he can’t hold for long until he’ll have to gasp for breath. “I forgot to mention. The Jesper Fahey Seduction Experience is limited to Crows who haven’t already agreed to go out with me. You get the leftovers.”

“Fair.” Inej shimmies out of her underpants as well and drops them off the side of the bed. She pats the blanket in-between her thighs when Jesper, stunned into silence, doesn’t react for a second. “As long as you only wildly exaggerated the skills of your tongue in terms of talking. Not… Come here, Jes.”

She laughs at him again when he crawls slowly closer like the caricature of a hunting cat and when he softly caresses her right leg, then pulls it up and deposits the thigh atop his shoulder.

He licks a slow stripe up along the outer seam of her cunt, then again, focusing on the trembling in her thighs and the laughter and the shy hand that settles in his hair, just trying to get a feel for it. Not the act itself, but Inej’s reactions. In his eagerness he’s chosen a tactically stupid beginning: he can’t monitor Inej’s minute expressions from down here with his face buried in her sex. If he could completely trust she’ll stop him when it gets too much, or, alternately, if he could trust this will never hurt her at all, he could lose himself, but so… She’s wet already, and that’s good. Jesper doesn’t know what Kaz is doing at all, either, except for the drag of the chair that may be him finding a better place to watch.

He pulls one arm up slowly—and maybe Jesper’s overthinking this, but these are the most important people in his life: he needs to protect them, and his mind won’t shut up—slowly, he reaches for her, I’m not restraining you don’t worry, and starts toying with Inej’s lips, not penetrating, while he laps at her clit. Gently, at first, while he learns the way she squirms—while he guesses what might mean too much pressure and no, here please and anything she’s not saying, because Inej’s far too quiet, and only her hands digging into his hair and pushing him down give him the certainty to not try and look at her face for clues.

Carefully, he puts his hand into service. One finger, then two, curling towards the front, massaging, matching the movement of his mouth, and again and again until Inej’s body curls all around him when she comes. Silent, of course.

Kaz is utterly silent as well. Maybe he’s not even there. Maybe he went back to work, and Jesper turns, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and— “So you are enjoying the show!”

His arms are hanging down straight and his hands are balled into fists, and Kaz is hunched forward, but still—those trousers are bulged a little more than usual. (It probably says things that Jesper’s got a yardstick for ‘usual’ here. But—)

“Why don’t you take care of this? For me… us?” Inej, asking gently somewhere above Jesper’s head.

“It’s easier when you do it.”

Jesper can’t help it. He snickers at the way Kaz glares-pleads at him, and apologizes, and tries hard not to crow with delight but— “Kaz Brekker, admitting I’m better than him?! Don’t be ashamed. You can’t excel at every single thing, and hand jobs happen to be one of my areas of expertise.”

“You’re scrubbing the floor in my office tomorrow, Jesper.”

“Is that what Inej meant with the dangerous power—“ Jesper bites his tongue. Just in time. Kaz looks pissed, but neither Kaz nor Inej have stormed out yet, though they might if he gives them time to process… “Give me a pillow, Inej.”

She pulls it out from under her back, somehow making that appear dignified, and Jesper throws it at Kaz’ face. Kaz, unfairly, catches it.

“We’re practicing a new trick today. It’s a shame, I’d love to watch that erection but it might not be enough to get you off. Hold it against your crotch and hump it. More friction.”

A beat. Kaz just sits there, clutching the pillow against his lap, and then— “You said after you finish getting me off, you touch yourself thinking about us. Show me.” His voice is even hoarser now. It’s unfair.

Jesper was so focused on him and Inej and making sure neither of them got hurt, all along, that he almost forgot he had a body. Now, though—now, with Inej still slick on his lips and Kaz’ rough voice and the knowledge he wants to watch Jesper—wants to watch Jesper jerking off, it all bleeds back with a vengeance. He’s close already. He’s so close. He squeezes the root of his dick tightly, staving off the end, thinking about wounds, open, bleeding, full of pus—squeezes, lies there, eyes closed, breathing, breathing, and listens to the soft rhythmic rustling of a pillow. Which doesn’t help.

“You’re in the right position,” Jesper whispers, when he dares softly trail his hand up and down his prick again. “Look at me. That’s how I imagine it, usually. I’m on my back in my room, and you’re both watching. With interest.”

Kaz laughs at him. It sounds more than a little breathless. “I should have known you get off on being the centre of attention, you egotistical asshole.”

Jesper doesn’t look across at him, or up at Inej. It would be over too soon. He can’t stop feeling the heat of Inej’s thighs underneath his head, though, and that… Kaz could mock him, for how incredibly turned on he is right now, for the certainty that if anyone was to touch Jesper’s too-sensitive skin now it would be over—but Kaz doesn’t know shit about sex. Point, Jesper. Instead, blindly, he starts needling, “You’re doing well, boss.”

“Fuck you.” Kaz can’t even muster his normal bloodlust. He sounds vaguely humiliated, and shouldn’t.

“No, you’re fucking you.”

Inej actually slaps Jesper’s head, and Kaz groans—and the smack and the sound travel down to Jesper’s dick, better than anything he could imagine, so he’s down a couple of points again, or up? It’s hard to tell now. It’s hard to tell, because his hand’s sped up without giving Jesper notice, and he can still smell Inej, all around his head, on his face, and Kaz is breathing audibly now, moaning, then not, because he’s biting either his glove or his cheek again Jesper thinks and honestly, either—and the pillow’s still thwacking, thwacking away and—thwack, a groan, a word that’s definitely not Jesper but still it’s—

And Jesper bites his own lip bloody when he comes because any word he might say can and will be used against him.

Inej starts petting his head.

Before Jesper even has his breath back, he can hear the quiet scratch of Kaz’ chair: can hear the cane and the limp, coming closer to the bed, a drawer pulled open and then shut again. Movement towards another corner.

“Kaz,” Inej says. She sounds neutral. Carefully neutral. Viciously neutral. Not like she’s sounded the rest of the night.

“You interrupted me before I finished reading my reports,” Kaz rasps. “I need to get back to work. Stay here.”

Inej shifts under Jesper’s head, jostling him off. She’s about to go after Kaz. Jesper touches her arm: turning the grab into a telegraphing move just in time, showing his intent to pull her back into bed without actually doing it. “Leave it,” he says—pleads, probably, he doesn’t have his shell fully back, and then he shouts after Kaz with as much obnoxious enthusiasm as he can muster, “That was fun, right? I had a great time. Let’s do this again!”

The door shuts.

Jesper burrows his head back into Inej’s lap, and then he says softly, “Let’s give him a little time to calm down. We all have our troubles.”

“I don’t know how you can do this,” Inej replies, stroking his hair. She sounds sad now: the last thing he wants for her, and Jesper doesn’t know how to make it better. “How you’re so reckless with your heart.”

“It’s nothing.” He’s laid out far more tonight than he’s ever intended, and that’s probably the answer. Jesper just doesn’t know when he should shut up. He gambles with everything. He’s only here because he gambled away the kruge he would have needed to escape Ketterdam, and because he carelessly lost his heart, too. Why not give everything else away when he’s not paying attention? He’s tried, Ghezen knows; he’s been watching Kaz and Inej for signs and made jokes and he weathered this pretty well for someone who doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing, who isn’t even trusted with their demons, but at the same time, when he’s trying to disguise and reveal so many things at once, something real’s bound to slip through. He whispers into Inej’s soft thigh, “Someone had to do it. That’s the point of partnerships: finding the person who can do what you can’t, and forcing them to do it.”

“Let me up for a second.”

Jesper doesn’t know what he’s going to do when Inej leaves too. Find another card game at the Crow Club, probably. Maybe even the Kaelish Prince, to really piss Kaz off. But Inej just pulls the duvet out from under him and gets onto the mattress again, spreading it over both of them. She puts her head on his shoulder and lies awkwardly half on top of him, the ribbing of her undershirt balancing out the mattress spring digging into his back, wrapping her arms around him. It’s almost too much.

This, more than anything that’s happened tonight, is too much. Jesper turns his head to the side. He rests his hands loosely on Inej’s back, then starts tracing random shapes.

“I’m sorry,” Inej says suddenly.

It takes a moment for Jesper to catch up. “For being concerned I was letting Kaz have his sordid way with me?”

Inej pokes him in the ribs, hard.

“You’re looking out for me, that’s good. I’m glad we talked. But I’m not as weak as I look, right? I know what I was getting into. I know how to take risks. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Jes, you’re the worst risk-taker I know. You don’t make many good choices. I’ve never seen as much money as you’ve gambled away. Don’t just gamble away your heart. You’ll get hurt,” Inej whispers.

Jesper, bravely, pretends to have suddenly fallen asleep.

+

Jesper’s hand is tangled in Inej’s hair. He uncurls it and then, his whole body, stretching out his arms and legs and the neck that’s aching from a severe lack of pillows. He uncurls, and regrets it immediately. Those long dark strands were the only thing that’s comfortable here: Inej must have moved a lot during the night, fighting for her place, and now she’s with her back to Jesper taking up more than half of the already narrow lumpy mattress, and she’s also wrapped up tight in Kaz’ thin duvet. The only duvet. Kaz could surely afford more, and Jesper doesn’t ever sleep with fewer than two blankets and a duvet and his old throw from home, not in the dank Ketterdam nights, but Kaz is an austere bastard who luxuriates in suffering, other people’s and his own, apparently, and even if he had another duvet then Inej would have stolen that one as well.

The bed smells of sweat: Inej’s, faintly, Jesper’s own, but below it, the soft sour odour of a certain someone not changing his bedclothes often enough after—knowing him, unpleasant dreams.

At least Jesper’s feet are still warm. Unlike everything else about him, because he’s still lying buck naked except for his socks in Kaz Brekker’s bed after getting him and Inej off and also singlehandedly solving everyone’s relationship troubles. His feet are nicely toasty and the rest is an icicle, goosebumped and shivering and he’s so lucky the room is pitch-black thanks to the curtains and Inej’s asleep and Kaz is gone, because roosting on top of the Slat may be a power thing on Kaz’ part but it’s also far draftier up here than down in Jesper’s room, so frigid that Jesper’s dick’s probably shrivelled back into his body. Not that it matters, and given the stuff they’ve been doing… Not that it matters, probably, to anyone but him. But hey, there’s value in being a little vain about your beauty. It got him into this bed, after all.

If Jesper let his teeth clatter so loud it woke up Inej, that would be pretty funny. She’d be mortified about hogging most of the mattress and the entire duvet. She’s also the one who had to do actual work the past two days, though, and probably even more than usual because Jesper was on his non-consensual vacation, so it all depends on how much of an asshole Jesper is. She was pretty sweet to him this night, so—

Jesper’s pulse jumps when a thin stripe of light appears on him, growing thicker, and then he closes his eyes and starts feigning sleep. A heartrender would call his bluff immediately, because his pulse is still racing: but a heartrender would know he’s awake even when he’s calm, most likely, though he’s never actually asked one about their powers. Maybe he should. At least find out whether it’s possible to force the light back under his skin when it’s started glowing out. But the only place where he’s gonna learn that is the Little Palace, and that’s the last place Jesper’ll ever go to.

If a heartrender got into this room, they’d have much bigger problems than whether Jesper can convincingly pretend to be asleep, though. It’s Kaz’ bedroom. No-one’s supposed to come in here uninvited. Except for Inej. Also, the door didn’t squeal when it opened. Someone knows those hinges intimately.

The quiet limping gait and the cane seal the deal. It’s Kaz. No reason for Jesper’s heart to gallop with terror, and at the same time—the best reason. What’s Kaz doing in here? Apart from this being his bedroom, and him probably needing to sleep too. Time to kick Jesper out, probably. Thanks, until next time, by the way why haven’t you sniped the Liddies’ treasurer yet. Should Jesper have gotten up as soon as he realized he was awake? But Inej’s here too, and Kaz wouldn’t just kick her out of bed.

He wouldn’t… this close, Jesper can hear the faint creaking of his leather gloves somewhere over his head. Somewhere to the left of him, where Inej’s sleeping, roughly where her head should be. Jesper doesn’t dare open his eyes, but he’d bet a thousand kruge Kaz is very softly petting her hair. He’s not jealous. He’s not hurt. He isn’t. He always knew what Kaz feels for Inej. Besides, Kaz is already hiding him and giving up a lot of money to keep his secret. Asking for anything more would be far too greedy, the kind of greed that costs everything: and Jesper doesn’t mind losing that much when it’s gambling, but Kaz… So he’s definitely not jealous.

He's opened his eyes, though, to confirm his suspicion, and sees Kaz pull back his hand and raise the tips of his gloved fingers to his lips. It’s too intimate. Jesper was never supposed to see Kaz like this, and he screws his eyes shut again, keeping his breathing free and even.

Fingertips ghost against the corner of Jesper’s mouth, so hesitant he almost misses them.

He might have, if he was still asleep; but those fingers are warmer than the air, and the rich earthy smell of leather tinged with the iron of old blood—the odour and sensation burn into him like the dark spots on his retinas when he once looked at the sun, and though he can’t taste any wetness, any spittle, he imagines them anyway. The glove touched Kaz’ lips before Jesper’s. He never imagined that Kaz would kiss him. Kiss Jesper. He licks his lips, because if these are the only traces of Kaz he’ll ever have inside him then—

“You’re awake,” Kaz hisses, still quietly enough not to wake Inej. “Get up.”

Jesper’s never managed to deny Kaz anything. The bed’s uncomfortable anyway.

He tiptoes quietly out into the office after his boss.

Kaz is proffering Jesper’s holstered guns, when Jesper turns around from trying to close the bedroom door as quietly as possible. It still made a tiny screech, but maybe, if Kaz lets him spend more time here then he’ll learn it well enough to…

“It’s a little past three bells. Mark Heener of the Liddies tends to leave his house at four to visit Lispet at the Sweet Shop so his wife won’t notice. It’s a good opportunity, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yeah, boss,” Jesper mumbles, still too mellowed by the scent of leather and old blood to come up with a decent riposte. “You got it. Anything you want.”

“Change the socks first, though,” Kaz rasps, and lets his eyes trail slowly up from Jesper’s feet to—yeah, Jesper’s still as good as naked.

“You know enough about anatomy to be aware that dicks shrink when it’s freezing, right?” Jesper means for it to come out more teasing and less self-conscious than it does, but Kaz is just staring at him. And not at his face, either. “You’re basically the Dregs’ boss. You can afford more than one duvet. In fact, I insist, and more pillows and a new mattress as well. When we’re doing this again I want to be actually comfortable.”

Kaz’ ears are slowly pinking up. It’ll have to be answer enough, because instead of reacting to Jesper’s unspoken question, the bastard just rasps, “It’s fifteen past now. You might need to hurry if you want to catch Heener before he gets to the Sweet Shop. And get to your room before anyone in the Slat wakes up, because I’ve already sent yesterday’s clothes to the laundry, so you can’t even slink to your room in my cast-offs.”

“I could protect my modesty with one of those gorgeous sweaty socks.” Jesper waggles his toes. In the green-and-yellow stripes, his feet look almost like grotesquely distended caterpillars. Sometimes he really misses the farm.

Kaz scowls.

“Don’t worry, boss.” Jesper buckles his holsters around his hips and winks at Kaz again. He’s too off-balance for a mock-seductive pose, but this will have to do. “This is all yours.”

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Protea (Part 17)

She doesn’t come home that night or the next. So Mai caves, partially under the pressure of Ursa’s rising anxiety.

“She’s probably at ‘er factory.” Mohi shrugs.

This does little to alleviate Ursa’s concert. “Her what?”

“It used to manufacture war machines.” Zenyul remarks.

“An abandoned factory!? Those are...they’re unsanitary and full of blades and broken beams.”

“She always goes there when she’s upset.” She cuts Mai a pointed glare and just like that she recalls the woman’s warning not to hurt her daughter. “Been goin’ ta that factory fer a long while now. Ain’t nothing to worry ‘bout.” Mohi assures.

“She’s been gone for…”

“Only a day.” Zuko cups his hand over Ursa’s. “Azula can take care of herself. She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

“Girl jus’ needs time ta clear ‘er head s’all.”

“I’ll go check on her.” Mai grumbles. She is certain that she will come to regret this decision. Whether Azula is withdrawn or furious she is in for a difficult and tedious time. Really she shouldn’t go at all. But, frankly, she’d do just about anything to keep Mohi from glaring at her with that much hatred.

“Boy, ya git  on up ‘n go find your sister!”

Both Kaz and Zuko rise.

“I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout ‘choo.” She jabs her finger at Zuko.

“He doesn’t have to come.” Mai grumbles.

“He’s a goin’.”

The argument is settled. It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t have to talk to him. And she doesn’t. It isn’t out of hatred nor dislike. It isn’t out of anything at all in particular. Perhaps it is just less awkward. They reach the factory and she leaves Kaz to do the calling. He tries Snapdragon first and after getting no answer he tries ‘princess’ and then ‘Azula’.

Mai finally speaks directly to him, I’ll look inside, I know where her nest is. You can check around outside.”

“Yeah, that werks.” He agrees.

The building has a certain chill to it now that Azula has left it vacant for some time. She is twice as hesitant to ascend the ladder, it seems to sway more than ever and when she reaches the top, she finds no reward. Azula isn’t in there picking through her hoard.

She climbs back down and takes the stairs to the upper levels. She is beginning to speculate that Azula isn’t here. She wouldn’t put it past her to have run off to find the Forgetful Valley a second time.

With a drawn sigh she takes the fire escape. This is where she finds Azula and her stomach has never plummeted faster. By Agni’s fire, she wishes that the princess would have just run off into the jungle again. She is so still, so nauseatingly still. And there is blood.  Too much of it.

Spirits, has she been here all night. She feels queasy beyond compare. She nearly hurls over the side of the railing when she sees Azula’s legs. She takes a deep breath, “Kaz!” Her voice strains, she isn’t used to yelling so loudly. “Kaz!”

“Ya find her?”

“Yeah, and I need your help.”

She is scared to feel for her pulse. She reaches out regardless. It is only faintly reassuring to find a subtle beating. She rubs her hands over her face. She shouldn’t have kissed Kaz. Spirits, what was she thinking.

Snapdragon’s goofy lopsided smile appears in her mind, accompanied by that delighted and loud laugh. Her face is so still, her expression so pained. It doesn’t sit will, not on Snapdragon. On Azula, sure. But not on the face of joyful Snapdragon.

.oOo.

Her head hurts. Her legs hurt, what she can feel of them anyways. Everything just hurts.

She forces her eyes open, expecting to see the sun glaring mercilessly down upon her. She doesn’t remember when she had passed out. She recalls that she had been trying to stop the bleeding and then nothing at all.

But she is not strewn out on hard metal. She is back in the infirmary and wrapped in more bandages than when she had left.

There is no one around, no one save for a healer. She swallows, the really are all angry with her. She tries to sit up and the healer is by her side in an instant, gently coaxing her back to the mattress. “Not yet.” She says gently.  “At least wait until your food gets here.” She hands her a cup of water.

Some fifteen minutes pass and then another five. And Mai enters. She sets a small bento box in her lap. “I’m not a very good cook. Kaz and Zenyul did most of the work.”

Azula nods and heaves herself into a sitting position. She feels so dizzy and tired and her fingers fumble with the box. Mai helps her pry the lid open. She picks at the rice first and then a small helping of noodles.

“You didn’t have to jump.” Mai mumbles.

For a moment she doesn’t register the weight of the remark. When she does, she shakes her head. “I was just trying to get to the top. I figured that I could do it now that I have my bending back…”

She supposes that she won’t be doing much of that anymore. Her face pales; she can’t climb, she can’t do parkour, she can’t even get to her hoard. She can’t do anything that can help take her mind off of things.

Mai looks profoundly relieved. “You really did just fall?”

She holds out her sprained wrist, “I hurt it more trying to catch myself.” She thinks that maybe if it hadn't been so bruised prior, she might not have hurt it so badly. She wonders if she’ll be able to walk again. She inquires as much and the healer comes to her with a small pin. She pricks Azula’s thigh and then her calf. She winces with each.

“You’ll be fine as long as you let your legs heal right.”

Azula lays back, it is more than a relief.

“Kaz helped you make this?” She gestures to the box.

Mai nods.

“He’s still mad?”

She nods again. “I don’t think that he will be for long.”

“Are you?”

“I want to be.” Mai sighs. “I really want to be...”

“But…”

“You just fell off of a building and you look like a kicked rabaroo. It’s kind of pathetic.” She laughs.

Azula frowns and crosses her arms. “Where is mother?”

“Which one?”

“Both of them.”

“I can get them for you. Zuko will probably tag along.”  

She starts to stand but Azula catches her by the wrist. “Stay with me.” With a sigh, Mai sits back down.

.oOo.

Azula still doesn’t let go of her hand. Likely she thinks that she is going to try to leave again. She exhales again and brushes Azula’s hair out of her face. She rests her hand on her cheek. “At least you don’t have to worry about any new scars, they’ll disappear when you get your real face back.”

“My face, not my body.” Azula replies. “I don’t think that my body changed.”

Mai shrugs, the last fragments of her anger fall away when Azula looks back at the bento box and mutters, “you forgot the marigold.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d still eat that.”

Azula quirks a brow. “I had my memories when we opened up the new shop.”

Mai doesn’t know how her brain had managed to gloss that one over. “Are you trying to tell me that, that wasn’t part of trying to pretend like you didn’t have your memories?”

Azula clears her throat, “the taste grew on me.”

“Spirits, you’re a feral little beast beast.” Mai rolls her eyes. She really can’t hate her. Not anymore. Not when the line between Snapdragon and Azula is so blurred. Not when it becomes so outright that they are one and the same. She carefully lifts Azula’s bandaged hand and, with a moment of hesitation, offers it a little kiss before putting it back down just below her chest. Azula cradles it in her uninjured hand.

“Who do you think is going to have the better lecture; Mohi or Ursa?”

“Honestly, I can’t wait to listen to both.”

“Did Zuko cry?”

“It was more like this look of distress and concern.

“Good.”

“Good?”

“People care about me.” She clarifies. “I didn’t think people cared about me.”

“Of course we care about…”

“Everyone cares about Snapdragon. I...I didn’t think that anyone cared about me.”

Mai bites the inside of her cheek, she probably hadn’t helped any in that regard. “That’s why you became Snapdragon, isn’t it?”

Azula nods, “I was tired of being alone. A new face was my best chance.”

“You didn’t think to try to apologize?”

Azula cringes. “I’m not good with that. I don’t think that I would have felt loved if it was given to me...no memories came with no...trust issues.”

Mai rubs her lips together and tenderly strokes the back of Azula's hand. “I guess that it would have been difficult to just apologize and move on.” She can’t even promise the princess that she would have given her a chance. She has an inkling that Azula knows it too. Of course she does, she wouldn’t have run off if she hadn’t.

“Well, maybe it’s a good thing you did leave.” Zuko shrugs. Mai isn’t sure how long he had been standing there; Azula’s cringe tells her that she isn’t sure either.  

“Why’s that, Zuzu?” She mumbles. “So you could have a break from me?”

“That too. But also because…” He ponders for a moment. “Because I think that Snapdragon is a part of you. The part that you’ve been afraid to show everyone. A new face gave you the chance to do it.”

Azula’s cheeks color ever so subtly. “That’s not…I’m not some feral...”

Mai holds her pointer to Azula’s lips and quirks a brow. “You don’t have to repress yourself. Trust me, it...its tiresome.” Maybe she ought to start surfacing her own bizarre interests and odd habits. The ones that her mother would chastise her for.

“We like you better when you don’t refine and polish yourself. You’re easier to talk to.”

Azula nods. “You guys like me.”

Mai sighs. “Yes we like you, Azula, not just Snapdragon.”

She opens her mouth.

“Not just the Snapdragon parts of you. All of you.” Zuko adds.

“Even the part that is going to laugh at you for crying over me.”

Zuko cringes. “You’re pushing it.”

“But you’re still going to bring me a cup of tea?”

Zuko rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’ll get you a cup of tea.”

Azula smiles and nuzzles her head into her pillow. She closes her eyes.  

Mai wants to get up and fetch herself a scroll or knitting supplies, or something to occupy herself with while Azula rests but she told the princess that she wouldn’t leave. She supposes that it wouldn’t hurt to have a rest for herself. It had been a stressful few days.

.oOo.

Azula feels as though her life has come to a bleak standstill. She can’t climb nor scramble, she can’t firebend to her liking, and she can’t go out and reclaim her old face. Though it is rather nice to have Mai caring for her; bringing her meals and laying on the bed with her. She sits as close as she can without risking damaging Azula’s legs worse. The princess is dissatisfied to find that Mai usually keeps a foot or two between them, despite insistence that she isn’t that fragile.

Mohi and Ursa check in frequently to the point that she thinks they are hovering. Were her speech written, Mohi would be pages into a multi-part lecture on climbing safety and not doing anything bold and risk at the height of anger. It doesn’t matter how many times she insists that it would have been relaxing had she not fallen.

Ursa is softer, but equally as annoying. It is all forehead kisses, babying, and doting. But she doesn’t want to push her away again, so the woman gets away with it. She finds that Zuko is, to her shock and dismay, the most pleasant company.

He brings her things to keep her busy; lets her help him work through some of the more tedious and tricky contracts and proposals that the council presents him with. It keeps her mind sharp and makes her feel useful. Other times he will bring a Paisho board or other strategy games. Sometimes he just sits and tells her stories while she and Mai listen. One day he tells her that, by the time she heals fully, TyLee should be around to vision. Her heart flutters at this. She wonders how the woman will take her relationship with Mai.

.oOo.

It is good to see Azula getting fresh air again. She seems happier for it, far less grumpy. In general, being at the flower shop seems to soothe her. She has taken to opening all of the windows, letting in a breeze that has the petals and leaves in a constant state of rustling.

She watches her engage in conversation as she hands over a bouquet of iris, clover, and foxglove. She is certain that it is doing Azula well to speak with the general public; if there is one thing that Snapdragon and Azula share it is that they both stumble through basic conversation in some way or another. She wonders if Azula will continue working at the shop once she gets her own face back.

Mai watches the customer leave, the last rush of the day has finally come to a close. “I think that this is the most you’ve talked to anyone...ever.”

Azula swivels her wheelchair around to face Mai and shrugs. “I am tired.”

Mai sighs, “you did good.” She rubs the princess’ shoulders and gives her a soft kiss. Azula puts her hands in her lap. “How is your wrist feeling?”

“Sore.”

“And your legs?”

“Right now, they aren’t.”

Mai chuckles. “Do you want a cup of tea? I’ve been saving some leaves so you have plenty of choices.”

Azula nods and rummages through her collection and picks out several flavors. “Any of these will do.”

.oOo.

She isn’t much help with closing duties; she can’t reach the cleaning supplies from her chair and it is rather hard to hold a broom and wheel herself around at the same time. It is just as well, she really doesn’t like cleaning anyhow. The messes have always been funner to make. She can see it in Mai’s eyes that she is relieved that she doesn’t have to clean up a counter full of dirt, the sort of mess that she used to leave behind when Snapdragon would scoop up handfuls of dirt just to watch it sift out of her closed fist. Granted she still does this from time to time when she grows bored, but she keeps her space nice and tidy. There is something relaxing about watching dirt fall, something about the feeling of it shifting in her palm.

When she is through she withdraws her hand and ignites a small flame to burn away that which is still stuck to her hand. “You ready to go?” Mai asks.

“Yes.”

“I suppose that you’re going to have a bath when you get home?”

“Correct.”

She isn’t sure what kind she will have under orders to not get her casts wet. “You are going to have to help me.”

“Why don’t you have one of your serving girls--”

Azula shakes her head, “that’s...uncomfortable.” She paues. “I trust you.”

Mai smiles. She thinks that that is what implores her to roll her eyes and agree to help. Undressing is such a tedious task one that is sprinkled with questions like, “how did you even get these pants on?”  And answers like, “with effort and an hour or so.”

“I am going to have Yora get you a robe.”

“Yes. That is what I wear to bed.”

“It’s what you’re going to wear in the day too, so we don’t have to struggle like this again.” Mai carefully lifts her out of the wheelchair and sits her upon the edge of the spring and hands her a towel.

She finds that bathing is no longer a relaxing endeavor, it is a constant fight to keep her casts dry.

“A little water isn’t going to hurt it.” Mai insists as Azula brings the towel to wipe away the water that has made its way into her lap for, well she has lost count of how many times now.

“It would be helpful to have a water bender to just shift it around and create a space for my legs.”

“Well we don’t have any waterbenders on hand.” Mai replies and hands Azula a bar of soap. She scrubs herself with both haste and efficacy and dries herself just as quickly. She waits for Mai to disappear and come back with her robes. She dresses herself and Mai helps her back into the wheelchair. She smells, once again, like Snapdragon and Firelily. And for it she feels like herself again.

Mai helps her into bed. Though it is a lot cozier, she finds that she doesn’t need her nest when Mai chooses to spend the night in her bed. Mai is just as warm as her softest pillow and is much better for conversation. Sleeping isn’t exactly comfortable, consider her preference for sleeping on her side or stomach. But Mai makes it more bearable by either rubbing her arms or stroking the back of her hands.

Mostly, this coaxes her to sleep. And it is nice to wake up to a slumbering Mai still holding her hand.

[fillingthescrapbook]

Shadow and Bone: The Crows Have It

I would like to preface this by saying I have not read the books that Netflix's latest fantasy series is adapted from. Though, I do have a general knowledge of what happens and which characters aren't supposed to be in the show because of research I did for this interview. With that disclaimer out of the way, I now give you spoiler warning for the rest of this post.

Shadow and Bone is a good series with a well-plotted out story. The world-building, for the most part, is exemplary, and the magical powers that exist in the world are impressively explained and shown. Everyone acted their socks off, the fight choreography and the hand gestures looked and felt natural, the costumes were beautifully-crafted, and the visual effects were amazing. Unfortunately, the show also suffers two glaring weaknesses that kind of sours viewers from the whole package: Alina and Mal.

Don't get me wrong. Actors Jessie Mei Li and Archie Renaux were great. Jessie, especially, was transcendent as Alina. And it's a testament to her acting skills that I felt anything at all for Alina. It was only after each episode aired that I started questioning Alina's decisions. And it was only after the show ended that I realized Alina wasn't a very good character at all.

Alina's only character traits were that she was in love with Mal, and that she had powers to summon light. That was it. Her character didn't really develop because both those character traits existed prior to the show starting, and her realization that General Kirigan wasn't to be trusted didn't come from within; it was propelled by a revelation of a tertiary character that she questioned once and then took as truth after the reveal of a painting. It was... disappointing to say the least. Especially because the show added an element to Alina and Mal's characters that didn't exist in the books: they were made half-Shu.

In the first episode, Alina experiences racism against her because of her Shu Han features. But the only thing we really know about the Shu Han at this point is that they're looked down upon. And that they guard their mountains to the south of Ravka well. One character calls them the enemy, but we don't know why. So my only takeaway from this is that the Ravkans are racist as fuck. Which wouldn't have been a problem if we saw this amount to anything.

After Alina reveals her powers at the end of the first episode, the next time her Shu Han heritage gets brought up is in the third episode: when a maid comments that a Tailor should take away Alina's Shu features, to which Alina pleads against. And then we get another microaggression from the character of Zoya, but I feel like it was more fueled by her being deposed as General Kirigan's favorite Grisha rather than it being because of Alina's racial heritage.

The rest of the time it gets brought up is when Jesper realizes the Sum Summoner they're after is half-Shu, when Alina "escapes" and gets harassed by a Ravkan soldier (which deserves a lot of side-eye), and when General Kirigan is looking for her. That's pretty much the extent of the character trait they added to Alina's character. I mean, sure, it allowed for the actress to ground Alina's backstory and why she was ostracized so much in the past--but it didn't really make an impact on the actual story being told.

What impact did the Sun Summoner being half-Shu have on the other characters? Especially the Grishas and the royal family? I hope this gets explored if the show gets renewed for a second season, because it didn't feel like it was a huge part of the show at all.

Then again, at least Alina had those little microaggressions? Mal's half-Shu heritage is only touched upon in the flashbacks when the other kids in the orphanage would pick on him. Which is, to be honest, the only thing remotely interesting about the character. Again, no offense to Archie Renaux who infuses Mal with so much charm and swagger--but Mal as a character is a non-entity. He exists to pine after Alina, to track a stag, and then to save Alina. He does nothing else. Not even the death of his two closest friends makes an impact on his character.

It is mind-boggling to see how a show this detailed would drop the ball on its two main characters. Especially since the rest of the characters are so rich:

General Kirigan, the bad guy, might have questionable goals but you understand who he is as a character because of the backstory he is given. You see his pain, his anguish, and you see his hope for the future. He is completely evil as well, but there is a clear progression of how he goes from wanting what's best for Grishas like him to who he becomes in the current timeline.

Nina Zenik only has a handful of scenes but we manage to learn more about who she is as a character in one scene than we do Alina for the whole series. Although I think it helps that actress Danielle Galligan has great chemistry with Calahan Skogman, the actor portraying her captor Matthias.

And then there are the scene-stealers: the Crows. They're introduced as pseudo villains but quickly become the actual stars of the show they're not even supposed to be in. Kaz Brekker is a deplorable degenerate who keeps his word, Inej Ghafa is a spy with an honor code and a complicated history, and Jesper Fahey is a narcissistic dandy who is quick on the draw and just as quick to love. And the best part about them? They are actual characters. Their backstories dictate how they act around each other, around other people, and how they are received. And they have character progression:

Kaz starts the series with one goal: to earn a million kruge so he could pay off one important debt. This goal propels him forward, but the events that he gets involved him changes him as a person, giving him leeway to choose a different path. Jesper doesn't have this season-long arc, but he does grow as a character as well--although in a more minimal way. And then there's Inej who, arguably, undergoes the biggest growth in the show.

It's funny how the characters who aren't even supposed to be in the show are the ones who have the best characterization and arc. No wonder people are raving more about them than the actual main characters of the story. Alina and Mal are cardboard cutouts compared to the complex Crows.

Which brings me to these questions: is this problem caused by the show being faithful to the source material? Whose idea was it to make Alina half-Shu, and why wasn't it integrated better into the story? Is there a chance that Alina and Mal will become better characters if a second season is produced? Or will the Crows become the actual leads of a follow-up season?

All of this said; I am curious to see how Shadow and Bone proceeds from this so I hope that Netflix renews it for a second season.

[booksforevermore13]

Sherry Lips and Crystal Stars (Part III)

Summary: 'So, when they break away, and he looks at her, green to brown, she knows that he's the one. That in the end, he had always been the one.'

Ginny Weasley works on a strict owe-to-owe basis, but it's one person she can never fully repay. And she's always running from him. Always. Until Kaz Brekker needs her to recruit him for a highly coveted kidnapping.

Again, no knowledge of Shadow and Bone is required to read this :)

Part I is here.

Part II is here.

Read it on Fanfiction or AO3 if you prefer!

...

PART III

...

ix.

Three Squallers.

Two Inferni.

Three Heartrenders.

And the Snitch. Which in their case, is the Summoner.

Quidditch wasn't a game for the people.

It was also a game where when the victim's safely bound and gagged, it's considered complete. 'Safely' was a debatable term though.

"The Squallers are yours, the Inferni are mine," Ginny says, double knotting her boots, while staring pointedly at Harry. "The Heartrenders are among the best in the Palace, so we'll take them together."

Harry doesn't answer, and she knows he's mad.

"Are you even listening to what I'm saying?"

It's then Harry looks at her, and she doesn't need to look at his eyes to know she's right. He's mad. The furious kind of mad. If she didn't know him better, she'd have been almost scared of him.

"How do I know you're not lying?" he says finally, and she can't help but flare up at that again, because it's awfully hard to not do something she had done for half her life.

"I guess you just have to see for yourself," she says angrily, finishing up her boots, and glaring at him. She feels like a bomb with a constantly ticking timer, just waiting to go off.

Ginny doesn't wait for an answer. She takes her knives, takes the ammo, and leaves the room they'd rented for the while.

She doesn't wait for him to follow.

x.

It's just the slightest sliver of evening, but it's dark, and it was the quintessential time for people like her.

She'd chosen a spot from where she could see the gate, and she could see the room they'd be entering, but the guards, they couldn't see her.

She has the pistol armed at him before she even makes a sound.

"Harry!" she hisses, and she lowers the pistol, putting it back in her holster again.

"Careful."

"I could have blown your brains out."

"Lucky you didn't or you'd be a man less."

She glances at him, shaking her head in exasperation. He's bending down beside her, an hour after they'd had their argument, and like her, he's peering at the guards, watching their every move, observing their every line of sight. It's what he's best at, adapting to the situation, and it's something that's saved his sorry ass (and hers) from too many situations to count.

"What are we waiting for?" she whispers to him, to which he motions her to shush.

"They are leaving, one by one. Coming back in intervals."

"And?"

"And, they're following a pattern. And every pattern coincides so that at one point of time, they'd have to go at once."

"Meaning we'd have a….."

"Exactly."

"And how do we know when that happens?"

It's then he looks at her, because sure, he might have spotted that pattern, but he wasn't very good at solving them. She was.

"We don't." Harry smiles, and it's the glint in his eyes which worries herm which lets her know what he's planning to do. Ginny's eyes widen, as she raises her hand as warning.

"Wait, Harry, no-"

She ducks as he throws a bomb, and he's pushing her up, pulling her good arm to make her follow him, and while the guards have their pistols up and running, they slip in right where they'd had a weak link, and when they come out the other side, Ginny can't help but laugh.

"Didn't know you had that in you, Potter."

"Yeah, well, I'm not exactly as much of an idiot as you think I am."

Ginny chuckles, shaking her head, before realizing her hand was still clasped in his. They let go at the same time, but they're still smiling.

"The Sqaullers are mine," he repeats. "Inferni's yours."

"Damn right."

"And remember, fire crackles before it lights. Same with Inferni. So…..listen."

She laughs incredulously, shooting hima mirthful glance, but before he turns away, Ginny stops him.

"What's this?" he says as she hands him a black sleek cylinder, capped on both ends.

"Use this when it's bad," she says seriously. "Like, really bad. Like raining hell bad. That cap there, open it, throw and run."

"Cap, Open, Run. Got it."

"You better."

She turns again, and then stops. "Wait," she calls, "wait, wait, Harry, don't die on me, okay? Don't do it."

And then it's the first time that evening, she's seeing him grin, that grin that makes his eyes light up in a way that she's always loved.

Wait, saints, what?

"Noted ma'am," he says and laughs, and she's left standing and thinking what the hell she's thinking, before realizing she had to go too.

Maybe she was liking him a bit more than she had planned to.

It wasn't as terrifying as she'd thought.

xi.

Ginny hears them before they strike. She hears the familiar crackling of fire, like Harry had said, before she's ducking and leaping behind a pillar. She smells a distinct burning, looking down to see they'd singed the ends of her hair off.

"Don't have much time left now, do we?" the Inferni mocks, and she makes it out to be distinctly feminine.

"Now, now Aila, perhaps the little girl wanted a glimpse of our Sun Summoner."

"Well, too bad she won't be getting one."

She barely misses the next fireball sent her way, and she jumps over a wall, and into the courtyard.

"Hey!" the girl, Aila yells, and Ginny looks around frantically, before finding a chandelier and focusing on it, finding the glass to be exceptionally easy to manipulate compared to stone.

"Show your face!"

Yeah, no.

"Or maybe a coward is all you are!"

The girl's nearing, the boy's not far behind, and when the girl's merely a feet away, Ginny steps aside, letting her coat catch fire, and yelling loudly. She hears the girl laughing behind her, the boy too, and she feigns falling on her knees, yelling out louder.

The girl steps nearer, and when she's right beside her, Ginny blocks out her voice and the boy's and wills the glass hinges to fall apart.

It's the atoms she works upon, because brittle they might be, but they're Fabrikator made, made by her own kind. It isn't meant to be fragile, but everything has a weak link, and that weak link is all it takes.

And then the glass shatters. As quickly as it does, she brings out her dagger, slashing part of the girl's kefta off and pulling it over her head. Then she lunges behind a pillar, feeling the hot flames licking up her feet. In a bold and foolish move, the boy had aimed a fireball at the chandelier, and it was only because she was a Fabrikator she knew, that glass heated at high temperatures would explode at any given part of the world.

Ginny runs, runs as fast as she can, and leaps over the wall she'd come from, and as the glass chandelier explodes behind her, she's pushed forward by the force of the blast.

If the kefta hadn't been over her, she'd have died from impact alone.

Ginny isn't nearly up on her feet, before she hears Harry yelling, and then she grunts, yanking out a glass piece from her thigh, and pressing on it as she gets up.

"Run!" she hears him yelling. "Run, Ginny, go!"

Ginny grunts, wrapping the kefta over her thigh. It's not deep, but it could bleed out if kept unopened. She can see Harry running, and can't quite make out what she has to do. Her head's pounding, and she's breathing heavily, comprehending only what she can see.

Run?

And then she sees him, the Heartrenders behind him, running as fast as he was. He's managed to keep a safe distance between them, but the moment they're cornered, she knows they are done.

From the distance, she can see that he's managed to tie a piece of rope around one's arms, while the rest of them are sporting huge, ugly bleeds, but they're still running as fast as ever.

They're trapped, and she can't find anything to snap, or break over them, and she's not strong enough to break the wall down, like she'd done back in the Manor. Besides, she knows the wall would only ever add injury to them, and that'll just make it easier for the guards to finish them off.

Ginny steps back, ready to climb the wall, but raising her daggers to fight, but then Harry's yelling at her to run again, and she puts abkc the dagger and waits until he's reached her, before she jumps, grunting at the added strain on her sides, and wincing as she drops down on the other side.

Ginny hears Harry behind her as she starts running, and then the click of the cap, and then in a flash, they're on the floor, his body shielding hers.

And then things do quite literally go to hell.

xii.

Ginny coughs as she snaps her eyes open. She sneezes, rubbing away the dust from her nose.

"Harry," she calls hoarsely. "Harry, get off of me."

He makes no sound, and she grunts, pushing at him, growing increasingly worried, as she manages to roll out from under him.

"Harry. Harry," she calls and she scrambles up, ignoring the ebbing pain in her thigh, while she looks down at his body for injuries.

"Oh, god. Shit, saints. Fuck." There's blood trickling down his back, pooling on the floor. She turns him on his side, and tears away his shirt, her eyes widening as she sees his open back.

"Shit," she curses. "Shit, shit, shit, god!"

There's shrapnel littering his back, digging into his skin and there's blisters running down his spine, and she doesn't know how much damage his back has taken, but she needs to fix this.

I need a Healer, she thinks. He needs a Healer.

She can't fix him.

Ginny looks around frantically, and then presses the cut Kefta onto his back. Harry groans in pain, and Ginny takes out her lockpick, putting it on the ground.

"Gin," Harry whispers. "Gin."

"Shh," she says, and she's got her hand on his, and he's clasping it tightly, as if his life was tethered to that.

"I am here, Harry," she says, "I'm right here."

She focuses on the lockpick, and suddenly, she can see the metal in it, lined up in perfect concentric circles and she presses those, forcing out a few strands off the pattern. Ginny wills them into shape, long and thin, and then when she lets the strands fall, she's glad it's turned out the way she wanted. Ginny takes the newly formed tweezers, and then a piece at a time, she's taking out the shrapnel from his back, second after second.

She's baiting time. But she knows there is no other choice. If the shrapnel stays in his back, he'd not make it out of here.

Ginny works quickly, but it still feels as if hours have passed, and when it's finally done, she dabs the blood away, and wraps his back with the Kefta.

"Harry," she calls again. "Harry."

"You…." he chuckles weakly, "you didn't leave me."

"Of course I didn't."

"But now you have to."

Ginny looks at him in surprise, before she's shaking her head and pulling him up with every bit of strength she has left. He's too heavy for her, and he slumps over her, as they collapse on the ground.

"No. No. Get….up"

"Gin, this," Harry wheezes out, "this was an ambush. Kaz set us up. They knew we were coming and the second they see the guards gone they'll come running here. This was a trap. It was a distraction."

"I'm not leaving you."

"You have to," he says, and Ginny's just barely holding back tears. "There will be hundreds of them here, any second. I'm only going to slow us down, Gin, and you know it."

She's still holding his hand, but she can't bear to look at him. But when she does, it's his green eyes that take her aback. They've always had. Always.

"Go," he whispers, and she can see he's tired but he's still smiling. It's a genuine one this time, and she knows he really does mean it.

So, she does what she's always done.

She lashes out.

Ginny lets go of his hand, and suddenly, her lips are crashing against his, begging for him to stay, begging for him to hold on. For a second, she wonders whether he'd pull away, but then he's kissing her back with equal passion, and suddenly, they're the only ones there, in the middle of the ash and dust, in the middle of all the blood, they're the only ones there.

His lips taste of sweet sherry and dust, and they're rough over hers, and she holds on to him as if she's never letting go.

She isn't.

And then she's pulling him up, holding him upright, and as she breaks off the kiss, they're wheezing, exhausted, but they're alive. And standing.

Distraction can do great things. He'd taught her that.

"Gin…."

"We're both getting out of here. Or we're not leaving at all."

He looks at her, his eyes holding a passion she's never seen before. Ginny holds him up as they start walking, through the courtyard, away from the hole, away from the crowd, away from the Grisha and the grenades and the blood and the dust.

But she's glad they're leaving together.

[discountalien-pancake]

You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but I know very little about Star Wars and Kylo ren and reylo, yet based on what I’ve seen, yikes. I think what confuses me is when they compare that ship to kanej or Kyle to kaz, and it sort of feels like a stretch, but with the tv show I feel like this might become an issue. Thoughts on people who compare them like this? Again I haven’t seen too much of Star Wars, so I feel like I don’t know enough to talk about this.

Not to put too blunt a point on it but. Anyone who compares Kyle to Kaz is an idiot and also probably racist and looking for excuses to stan their shitty white fave.

The most obvious and glaring difference between the two characters is that Kaz is a child. Kyle is 30-something. There’s a difference between a grown man who decides to become a Nazi for...reasons... and a 17yo who takes over a gang to get revenge on the man he blames for his brother’s death.

More importantly, Kaz Brekker has never blown up a planet. That would probably cross the line even for him, and if not him personally, then for Inej almost certainly, which might as well be the same thing.

And speaking of Inej, Kaz never telepathically assaulted his love interest or tried to convince her to go against her faith and become evil.

Basically Kyle is an entitled white supremacist neo-nazi incel, and Kaz is a messed up kid with bad coping mechanisms and So Much Love for his friends.

[swanimagines]

Hi! I’m having a bad period day so I was wondering if I could have some fluff of kaz caring for the reader on their period? Thank you so much!

A/N: Ooofff, period pains. Mine are the worst, I can't even sleep or get out of the bed when I'm on my periods and the gynecologist told me that my womb is contracting so violently during my periods that my cramps are comparable to giving birth. :DD Yikes. I have an IUD now though so my pains aren't as bad but I'm having my periods right now actually and that's why I'm writing this now. I hope this will make the next time better for you too, I'm sorry this is late!

(You didn't specify if you wanted a gif imagine or HC's but I went with HC's, hope it satisfies you)

Warnings: obviously mentions of blood because reader is on their periods, but there are no pronouns used so I tagged this as gn reader! (Sorry to those who don't have periods but in the modern world it’s not a women only thing) Also I slightly based this on my periods because it was the easiest and the most natural way for me, and that way these won't be too unrealistic. Also mentions of vomiting and all kinds of pains, and OOC Kaz (the boi is #soft and I blame @thefandomimaginesandwritingblog for this because she made this AWFUL fic about Kaz where I cried and almost ended my friendship with Rowan which needed me trying to stitch my heart back together).

KAZ BREKKER CARING FOR YOU WHEN YOU'RE ON YOUR PERIODS:

- The first time it happens after you two started dating and he saw it, he doesn’t really know what to do.

- One evening you were fine and the next morning you barely got out of bed because you were in so much pain.

- He of course knew what periods are and didn’t freak out when he saw the blood on your bedsheets (even though he was a bit startled at first because of course you’re important to him and his first thought was that you’re injured somehow).

- He also learns that Inej and Nina have been helping you when it’s particularly bad.

- But then Kaz wanted to treat you himself, which was a surprise to everyone as he’s not really a... nursing type.

- He claimed that he wants you to be on your best state when that time of the month is over because you being exhausted means that your heists would be successful less likely, but the girls could see that he’s worried about you.

- They give him a little tutorial how to ease your pains, but massages and such things requiring touching skin were left for Inej.

- (It was also an excuse to spend more time with you because you didn’t really feel like going on walks or hanging out in his office while your womb was beating your insides up on your every waking hour and occassionally at night too for a week)

- He’s completely different when it comes to you being in so much pain. He can’t bear seeing you like that, so he does everything to help you.

- He tries to hide his soft side from everyone else, of course.

- Nina makes a teasing remark about him being almost motherly to you and he should make a pie with ice cream, but Kaz sent her his famous death glare and she shut up.

- (Or Matthias made her shut up because he was scared for his girlfriend)

- Kaz secretly takes a note on that and though he doesn’t bake it himself, he fetches you a cake or a pie and ice cream as sugar is the best painkiller during periods.

- If you have nausea, he’s quick to hand a bucket to you when he sees the signs, and also if you have longer hair, he holds it back while you vomit (when you’ve been dating for a while and he’s comfortable enough with touching a part of you which isn’t skin)

- If Kaz is lost at the morning, he has most likely fallen to sleep on your armchair while sitting by your bed and reading you a book to make you concentrate on his voice rather than your pains while falling asleep.

- And you’re not gonna lie, you like seeing him slouched over and snore slightly at the morning, his cane lying between his legs.

- The bad side is that his back hurts when he finally wakes up = he is grumpier at the morning.

- Not to you though as he knows that your emotions are acting up and he doesn't want to trigger anything.

- He does his best, and sometimes you even wait for your periods as that means that you get to see Kaz’s softer side once again - the side which makes your heart flutter in a whole new way.

- Kaz Rietveld was down there, and he tried to come up whenever you needed him. And often Kaz allowed him to come up, even when Kaz Brekker pushed him back down on the second he left your room.

- Kaz had lost someone he cared for once, and even though that was the biggest reason why he became a ruthless criminal he was - with you he allowed himself to love again, to care again and even show it.

- When your periods are over, Kaz Brekker takes control again with you too, even when he lets his past self peek around the corner when it’s just you two there. He doesn’t show you affection the same way than he shows it when you’re on your periods and need it (yet), but it goes without saying. Kaz Brekker wasn't ready to be sentimental.

- But even he cares and is willing to help you through your painful days of the month, every time.

Tags: @musicallisto @take-me-to-ny @mindofasupernova @lxncelot @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @someoneovertherainboww @vintagebitc @fandomstuffff @montsepliego @amwitherspoon @number-0-iz @tranquilitymoon @just-a-new-start @kaqua @booksreplacedmysoul @readingslumpfanfic @dancingwith-sunflowers @shadowhuntyi @rika90 @imma-too-many-fandoms @the-abyss-gazed-back @thereagles @kiwijulia @beatitlikeabongodrum @louweasleymalfoy @aliiiyyaaah @malfoys-demigod @aleksanderwh0r3 @gallysonegoodlung @maybe-potato @dustyjjumpwings @whatiswrongwithpeople @thegirlwiththeimpala @kykymyeon @lazyotakujen @bookfrog242 // reply "tag me" if you wanna be added to the tag list for SaB (Netflix) or send me an ask where you ask to be added to your desired fandoms! (And just a note that I do not do character specific tag lists because I write for 200+ fandoms and thousands of characters, but you can pick as many fandoms as you want!)

[crowsheadcaneandleathergloves]

Impossible

Six of Crows Hogwarts AU

Jesper had always wondered what Kaz Brekker’s patronus was.

Perhaps a lion? A larger-than-Nagini sized snake? A sea creature? A massive dementor which would eat up it’s own kind?

Today would be the day Jesper would find out. And he was pumped.

In fact, he was so excited, Jesper got to the DADA class early. And he was never early. Jesper was either right on time—boarderline late—or fully late.

There was only a couple kids waiting patiently in the class when Jesper got there.

A petite Slytherin girl with a long braid, two Gryffindor’s, a hulking guy with blond hair, a girl sat next to him, and a cute curly haired Hufflepuff.

And, speaking of the devil himself, Kaz Brekker in his blue and bronze uniform.

After Harry Potter graduated, the professors thought it would be best to mix up all the houses into classes instead of just two houses in a class together.

So, Jesper knew all of the students sat in the class.

The bronze skinned Slytherin was Inej Ghafa, a small but ferocious girl. Jesper had made the mistake of misjudging her in their second year. He had walked away with a deflated ego and a fear of bats.

The two Gryffindor’s were Nina Zenik and Matthias Helvar. Jesper shivered as he remembered their earlier years at Hogwarts.

In those times, before Year 5, Jesper didn’t know whether those two were dating or fighting.

He either saw them cuddling and flirting together with a professor chewing them out for something like a prank or, them bickering and pranking each other like they despised each other and a professor chewing them out for being disruptive.

This Year Seven, and last year at Hogwarts, the two of them seemed to have settled on one of the two modes: their couple mode which seemed to relieve the entire school, including—and especially—the professors.

Jesper sat down next to the cute Hufflepuff, Wylan Van Eck.

Jesper remembered that he had thought the kid to be a spineless, typical rich kid.

He had started disliking the kid in Year 1 when he saw him sucking up to the professors and going the extra mile to get extra credit.

However, in Year 3, Jesper had been voicing his opinions about Wylan with Kaz. Something along the lines about “no matter how cute he is, he’s still a goody two shoes!”

Kaz had put him in his place and told Jesper that Wylan had a dead mother and an abusive father.

Jesper’s opinions about the kid had changed overnight.

But, he still didn’t know how Kaz knew so much about Wylan’s parents.

And Kaz Brekker. The brooding, ex-crush, hatstall.

Jesper and Kaz had met on the train on the way to Hogwarts. Kaz had been alone in a compartment and Jesper had stumbled across it in search of his own.

In the short time it took to get to Hogwarts, Jesper and Kaz had bonded and Jesper was hoping that they’d get sorted into the same house.

Kaz wanted to be in Slytherin. Jesper wanted Gryffindor but wouldn’t mind wearing green if it meant him and Kaz would be together and in the same house.

Kaz was called up before Jesper to the Sorting Hat and, for many minutes, the Hat said nothing.

Jesper and all the other First Years waited patiently for the Hat to call out one of the four houses.

The Hat never did for those seemingly endless minutes.

All it did was mutter to itself. “Slytherin or Ravenclaw? Ravenclaw or Slytherin?”

One minutes, and the Hat was leaning more to Slytherin. Then, the next minute he was for Ravenclaw.

The whole Hall had been silent, even the professors glancing at one another and wondering when the Sorting Hat would just choose Kaz’s house already.

“Very intelligent indeed, a mind like no other. Yet cunning and you’d do well in Slytherin...”

Kaz had looked absolutely furious at the Hat; up there on the stool with all eyes on him.

Eventually, after ten gruelling minutes, the Hat had finally shouted “Ravenclaw!” and Kaz had finally been able to hop off the stool quickly, his tie turning the Ravenclaw colours.

That had been the moment Jesper knew him and Kaz would not be in the same house. Surely he wouldn’t get into Ravenclaw, the smartest House.

And Jesper had been right. It had taken the Hat a measly 2 minutes, compared to Kaz’s ten, to choose Slytherin for him, almost placing him in Hufflepuff which wouldn't have been so bad since he could have gotten to dorm with Wylan.

Eventually, all the students managed to trickle into the DADA class, no conversation erupting except for the quiet giggles coming from the pair of Gryffindor’s flirting with each other.

Then, came the moment of truth when Professor Nazyalensky walked in and the classroom went dead silent in anticipation.

“Good afternoon class,” she said, pacing around the room, her hands behind her back. It was as if she were prowling for a classmate to prey on. “I hope you’re ready for one of the most difficult charms you will ever learn in all of your years. The Patronus Charm. Some of you may never even learn what your Patronus’ are.”

A hand shot up. “Then why are you teaching it to us?” It was Nina.

“Because, Miss. Zenik,” Nazyalensky snapped, glaring at the Gryffindor girl. “This is Defence Against the Dark Arts and I am supposed to be teaching you how to defend yourself.” 

“I swear,” Jesper heard Nina hiss to Matthias, “that woman has it out for me.”

Nazyalensky began prowling once again. “This charm helps the caster eliminate Dementors, soul sucking creatures. In order to cast it, one must simply think of a happy memory and say ‘Expecto Patronum’.”

Nazyalensky walked to the board and wrote down the pronunciation and the wand movement. 

“Can you do it, Professor?” Inej asked from the back of the classroom. Her head was titled slightly and she looked mildly interested.

“Of course I can,” Nazyalensky sniffed. She pulled out her wand, waving it in a circular motion and said a simple “Expecto Patronum”.

A massive, silvery, giant squid erupted from the tip of her wand.

The class gasped at the sight of the massive creature which seemed to swim in air, flying above the classroom like a shooting star.

After a couple more questions about her own patronus, Nazyalensky had the class try for themselves. She had said that she doubted at least one person could cast a full, corporal, patronus, and Jesper was planning to prove her wrong.

It seemed Nina was too, her face scrunched up in concentration.

“You’re supposed to think of a happy moment, Miss. Zenik, not a terrible nightmare!”

A flash of silver caught Jesper’s eyes and a pretty, silvery, crow burst out of Inej’s wand, flying high and circling around Nazyalensky’s squid.

The whole class seemed to stop what they were doing to glance over at Inej and then at the majestic bird soaring above the classroom.

“Very well done, Miss. Ghafa.” Nazyalensky said, nodding her approval. “Perhaps you could teach Miss. Zenik how you managed —”

“— I can do it just fine, thanks.” Nina snapped, glaring at Nazyalensky before yelling, “Expecto Patronum” and a silvery crow flew out of her wand as well. 

Nina looked smugly at the professor, twirling her wand around her fingers idly before shoving it into her brown hair for safe keeping.

Wylan Van Eck came next, calling out a weak Expecto Patronum with a silvery wisp floating out. He tried again and a crow burst out, ruffling Wylan’s curls. 

Jesper watched as Wylan’s pretty blue eyes widened as the three crows met up in the air, seeming to silently communicate with one another.

Jesper glanced over at Kaz who was stood silently in the corner, his eyes shut calmly, his wand out. A small trickle of silver was smoking out of the top of Kaz’s dark wand.

Matthias’ came out next in an explosion of silver, the crow seemingly larger than life, crying out a massive caw as it took flight.

Nazyalensky seemed utterly floored. She had stopped stalking around the room and was like a little kid again, watching in awe as four almost identical patronus’ came out of four different people’s wands.

Seemingly one of the most hardest, most difficult spells to master, was preformed by four Seventh Years.

Jesper had never seen Nazyalensky shocked by anything. She either had seen it already or expected it beforehand.

Jesper shut his own eyes in concentration and excitement, wanting to see his own corporal patronus, remembering the day his father had taught him his first spell and how to shoot the spell accurately. It had been the Jelly-Legs Jinx and Jesper remembered feeling ecstatic when it hit right in the bullseye his dad had made from cardboard. 

He felt the moment and it’s happiness bubble up within him, filling him with excitement and adrenaline. 

“Expecto Patronum!” He felt something come out of his wand, the pure strength of it forcing Jesper to take a step back.

Jesper opened his eyes and just managed to glimpse his own crow taking flight and grouping with the others.

“This has got to be a practical joke.” Nazyalensky exclaimed, raising her wand and beginning to hurtle a multitude of spells, trying to vanish the five crows. 

Only, the crows stayed put. And they weren’t a practical joke.

Jesper’s eyes slid to Kaz still in the corner.

“Never in all my years teaching have I seen five students cast the Patronus Charm!” Nazyalensky exclaimed, still trying to shoot at the birds with harmless spells. “Never! It’s simply impossible!”

Then, without a sound, or incantation from Kaz, a grand, incredible silver crow flew out of the tip of Kaz’s wand, emitting a massive shriek that had everyone in the classroom covering their ears.

That’s when Jesper saw Kaz’s grin. “When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable.”

For those who haven’t read the Shadow and Bone trilogy, that last quote was from Siege and Storm. I was trying to find a good SoC or CK quote for it but found that one instead.