#sankt rambles

[ricardian-werewolf]

Chapter 15: Just our hands clasped so tight.

Summary: 3 months pass from the blizzard that surrounded the Great Palace. One bright spring morning, Alina and Nikolai are crowned Tsarina and Tsar, and their plans to rebuild Ravka are set into motion under the banner of the Sunne in Splendour.

Notes:

- This chapter's extensive coronation is based entirely off of the Imperial Russian coronation of the Romanov line, and the portions and steps are taken from the wikipedia page. Most of Vladim's lines as the Apparat are taken from official prayers of the Romanov coronations headed by the Patriarch, with Ravkan twists. - title taken from I will Follow you into the Dark by Death Cab for Cutie. - To all of those who've commented on this fic, given Kudos and love and supported me in my first ever Nikolina and Grishaverse fic, THANK YOU. I Hope very much that this chapter is as enjoyable as all of them. A sequel may be in the works, and if not, there are many portions of this fic that may become alt scenes. Word Count: 8.4k words. Tws: None.

Chapter excerpt below the cut.

“Honestly.” Alina groaned as she watched Linnea and Genya examine the flowing train of her coronation gown. 

“Hmm?” Linnea murmured as she dabbed a drop of crushed sapphires into the train’s inner lining (pure satin!). The color flowed out from her fingers and she grimaced as Genya fingered the fox-fur edging of the train’s edging. The coronation gown Alina wore was extremely fanciful, a confection of sapphire blue velvet and gold embroidery that looked closer to a 19th century French imperial gown than anything Ravkan. But she’d picked it out purposefully, and in a way, it suited her.

The short, puffed sleeves framed her shoulders as Alina moved her arms back and forth, testing the movement. The gown responded accordingly, and the Tsarina sighed in relief. On a bed of crushed velvet in wine-dark purple, laid a glorious sapphire necklace made into the relief of the antlers crowning her neck. Those blasted things had adapted more firmly to her desires in the months following their relocation, and now adapted once more to being curved around her neck. Except they now framed her face fancifully instead of being a sign of her own oppression. Alina fingered the left antler as Genya stepped over to the side table where the jewels lay. Her whole chambers had been redecorated according to Alina’s wishes, and away went the former Tsarina’s gaudy choices of coral pink and silver. Her heraldic colors - sapphire blue and shimmering gold leaf, adorned the curtains and rugs. A swirling pattern of a white stag rampart christened the rugs under her feet, the wall hanging over her bed. 

A massive painting occupied one far wall of her massive bedchamber, consisting of Nikolai wielding her banner. He looked over his shoulder, urging the masses towards the North star that glittered over the distant visage of Os Alta. His pistols had been painted with expert accuracy, and the court painter had grumbled for hours afterwards about how much Nikolai fidgeted. Alina had plied her husband with metal pieces and he’d gifted her little animals and miniature ships made from the scraps. 

The stag, however, was not alone. For while the heraldic symbol Alina used the most as Sankta was the stag, her true heraldic symbol coiled above their heads. Around the chandelier adorning the ceiling above her head, painted by Alina herself, was Rusalye, his fangs out and claws ready to rend her threats to pieces. 

[webslinger-holland]

I saw that your requests were open and I cant get the idea out of my head about a reader that worked at the crow club and Kaz just cant get them off his mind.

Then after failing to capture Alina and coming home, the crow club was under new Management and Pekka Rollins had taken interest in the reader, keeping them by his side. How would he react and/or get the reader back with the crows?

Heal His Heart | Kaz Brekker

Warning: slight violence, mentions of provocative attire, mentions of being a captive

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Ever since the Crow Club fell under the new management of Pekka Rollins, Kaz Brekker had been working nonstop to come up with a plan in order to reclaim his rightful throne. He made his way downstairs to meet up with the others.

Now Wylan had been tasked with creating a substance that had similar symptoms of firepox, but it would only last a day or two at most. He placed one of the two boxes on a small table with Jesper carrying the other. Jesper had been in charge of finding the boxes of their old costumes in which he had forgotten to clean them since last year.

Finally, Kaz had come to approach the table. He went to open one of the boxes, finding it filled with spray glass bottles of a mysterious liquid. He directed his gaze to the young boy standing in front of him.

"It'll mimic it in every way?" Kaz needed certainty.

"Mhmm," Wylan nodded.

With that, Kaz closed the lid to the box. He nodded his head in acceptance. There was a moment of silence amongst the small group. The boss turned his head to look directly at his right hand man beside him.

"You're gonna say you can't do this without me, yeah? And that you hate it when we're angry at each other, but sometimes, brothers fight. And that when all this is over, you'll open a tab for me at the club of my choosing," Jesper was rambling.

Kaz's face remained unchanged by Jesper's words. He looked at him sternly.

"Cause when Pekka's gone, you'll take it all. That's what your were gonna say," Jesper finished. He sent a cheeky smile to the others.

"There's a cap on the tab," Kaz insisted. "But otherwise, yes. To all of that."

"Then let's go take down the king," Jesper replied.

"The plan is this: Jesper and Wylan, you're gonna hand out Komedie Brute costumes and vials of the compound to all of the Dregs," Kaz began.

"Per Haskell's gang," Jesper claimed.

"Our gang now," Kaz interjected. "By sunset, the streets will be crawling with Sankt Emerens revelers. They'll provide us with the cover we need."

Sure enough, Wylan and Jesper had succeeded later in the evening when passing out costumes and the vials to the other members. They themselves wore their own costumes for disguise.

"Hit all of Pekka's businesses: The clubs, the brothels. All to destroy Pekka's reputation," Kaz ordered. He further explained Inej's part in delivery the message to Pekka's driver.

In that moment, Nina had come to join the small group by standing beside them. She had a pint in her own hands.

"Nina and I will handle the Emerald Palace," Kaz glanced at Nina beside him. His eyes drifted over the others. "See you there," Kaz dismissed them.

Naturally, Jesper and Inej had shared a look between one another. He had forgotten a vital piece of information to the plan, but he must have had his reasons. He didn't say anything about her.

"No mourners," Jesper began.

"No funerals," the rest of them said simultaneously.

As Jesper and Inej began walking away, Wylan caught up to them to ask why they always said 'no mourners, no funerals.' Inej gave a simple explanation of wanting to keep their expectations low.

Back at the table, Kaz and Nina stood in an awkward silence. She was quick to finish her pint of beer, lowering onto the surface of the table. Kaz kept his gaze on the box in front of him.

"You've been quiet," Kaz noted. He turned his body to address her. "Ready?"

With that, Nina landed a swift punch to the left side of Kaz's face. She had honestly been wanting to do that for some time.

The Emerald Palace was located in Ketterdam's East Stave, being owned and operated by the notorious gang called the Dime Lions. The gambling hall was always bustling with pigeons, bringing in heaps and heaps of money for Pekka Rollins himself.

When Pekka had taken over the Crow Club, he oversaw the distribution of its employees. He had them all line up and he made his decision where he wanted them to work for him.

He liked the big bouncers, opting to send them to the Emerald Palace where he often spent his nights. They'd serve as good additional protection. Many of the waitresses were sent away to work in his various brothels. Others were forced to go to the clubs. Then, there was her.

She was the one who had caught his eye. She stood timidly under his gaze, refusing to make eye contact with him unlike the others. He grabbed her chin to forcefully make her look at him. This caused her to let out a small gasp of surprise.

"Now..." Pekka's deep voice growled as he finally got a chance to look over her striking features. "What's a pretty lass like you working for scum like Kaz Brekker?" Pekka wondered.

"H-He pays me well," Y/n stuttered. She tried to pull herself out of his grasp, but he quickly grabbing onto her arm to hold her in place. "I-I'm just a waitress," Y/n claimed.

"Mhmm, just a waitress." Pekka almost didn't believe her. "Nothing more?"

"N-No," she lied under her breath.

Much like Inej, Kaz had chosen to pay off her indenture at the Menagerie. In turn, Y/n worked for him as a waitress at the Crow Club. She worked the tables, listening in on other people's conversations to hear the latest news circulating around the barrel. It was just another way to hear intel.

She was a resource to him. She was often the reason why he heard about specific jobs or who was no longer a reliable investment. However, that wasn't the only reason why Kaz Brekker liked keeping her around. As she was also a healer.

They shared many late nights together. He'd sit in front of her as she healed some painful wounds inflicted onto his body. Her being a healer was another valuable resource to have at his disposal.

At first, Kaz was wary when Y/n offered to heal a nasty wound inflicted to the side of his head. It caused a dull throbbing pain directly into the side of his head. To ease the almost unbearable pain, Kaz agreed to be healed by her.

He tried to prepare himself. He closed his eyes in order to try not to think about the feeling of ones skin against his own. His past coming to haunt him once again.

But when her fingers came in contact with the side of his face, Kaz didn't flinch away in pain or in disgust. In fact, Kaz felt rather comforted and maybe it was because she was healing a rather painful wound. He almost wanted to lean into her touch as it felt so warm and so gentle.

He kept his eyes closed to relish the feeling, taking a moment to appreciate not feeling the urge to vomit at physical contact. When Y/n had finished healing him, she took a single step backwards and lowered her gaze to the floor.

"I'm sorry," Y/n said softly as she already knew that he despised contact.

Instead of scolding her or demanding that she leave his office at once, Kaz approached her with an evident limp in his step. He stood right in front of her with his hands clasped onto the top of the crow head cane.

"Thank you," was all that he said.

They didn't label themselves with anything. There was some undiscussed attraction to each other that they both knew about. Due to his reputation and for her safety, they chose not to discuss such matters ever. This left them in a short of grey area.

"No," Pekka repeated. She was drawn back to reality, facing the heartless man in front of her. "Well, I can tell that Brekker didn't see your worth. How'd you like to come work for me? I pay handsomely," Pekka bargained.

Just by looking at him, Y/n knew that if she said 'no,' he was bound to put a bullet in the side of her head. Therefore, she was left with no choice but to join his side. She went to work for him at the Emerald Palace, serving as his personal attendant.

On that particular evening, Y/n was dressed in the finest lace and silk that the barrel had to offer. Her corset made it extremely difficult to breathe in, much less move around in. She brought another drink to Pekka as per request.

"Thank you, my love." Pekka said while laying a hand on the small part of her back. She wanted to wiggle out of his grasp, but stayed where she was as to not upset him further.

One of the bouncers came into view, stating that someone was there to see the boss. With some hesitation, Pekka Rollins rose to his feet and placed his glass of alcohol down. He dismissed himself from the group.

In the main entrance, Kaz Brekker was laying on the soft red floor. It looked like he had been in a fight as his hair was in disarray and there was sweat on his brow. Behind him, Nina Zenik stood with her hands held in a certain position. She could feel his beating heart.

"No match for a heartrender, are you, Brekker?" Pekka looked most pleased. "A real boss knows how to inspire loyalty in his people. Isn't that right boys?" Pekka glanced to his men.

"That's right," the other members of the gang agreed with him.

"Good job, lass. I've got it from here," Pekka gestured to Nina. His men were quick to pull their guns on her, which brought a tone of surprise.

"Move those hands and you lose them," one of them said. They knew what kind of power she could manipulate. They needed to keep her accountable. She raised her hands in defeat.

"I'm gonna make you regret the day that you crossed me," Pekka said to Brekker. He began to take off his jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his white button up shirt.

In the background, Y/n had pushed her way through the crowd of men. Her gaze landed on the familiar figure laying on the floor. She raised her hands to her mouth in hopes of covering the gasp she left out. He lifted his head and looked directly at her.

"Get him on his feet," Pekka demanded.

"Wait!" Y/n exclaimed from the side. She took a single step forward.

Just as Kaz was hauled to his feet by two men, Y/n had also been held back by another two members. She thrashed against their tight grip on her arms, desperately seeking to be released. She couldn't stand to watch this play out.

"You told me..." Pekka redirected his attention to his personal attendant. He strode towards her slowly. "That you were just a waitress for him," Pekka said.

He knew the weight of his words. He had always wondered if there was something unspoken happened between the two. This could easily be used against Brekker.

"Nothing more," Pekka glanced back to Kaz. "That's what you said, isn't that right?"

She couldn't deny it, so she chose to say nothing instead. She hung her head low, not wanting to even look at Kaz in fear of seeing the hurt in his eyes.

And her words (though not spoken in that moment) did hurt him. They both knew that she was much more than just a waitress for him. She was more than just another one of his investments. She had done more for him than just healing his wounds. Because she had also managed to somehow heal his heart which ached from the pain of his past.

"He'll never be able to offer you anything. Nothing worthwhile at least," Pekka continued. He went to approach the young teenage boy. "He is nothing more than a lowlife who feeds off the dirt from the ground," Pekka spat in his face.

"You're wrong," Y/n said with a slight quiver in her voice. Pekka turned to her once more. "He is more of a man than you will ever be, you witless worm."

A few people left out a gasp of surprise upon hearing this. Now Pekka's blood was really boiling to the point where his face had turned beat red. It could have been from utter embarrassment or it could have been from pure anger.

Without another word, Pekka Rollins went to approach the girl he had taken under his wing. He stopped to stand right in front of her. In a flash, the back of his hand had met the side of her cheek. Her head whipped to the side from the slap and she winced from the stinging pain she felt in her cheek.

In that exact moment, Kaz wanted nothing more than to bash Pekka's head in for what he had done. But he could only watch as Pekka gripped her face with a single hand. He squeezed hard and forced her to look directly at him.

"You do well to remember who you belong to," Pekka growled.

"Go to hell."

In response, Pekka released his tight grip on her face. She could now feel the distinct taste of copper lingering in her mouth. She also did not know that there was a small cut on her cheek from where his ring had come in contact with her.

"I'll deal with you later," Pekka pointed to her threateningly. He turned back to his old rival. "Right now, I need to make an example out of this rat."

"You'll pay for this, you double-dealing witch!" Kaz finally spoke to Nina with venom in his voice.

Without warning, Pekka delivered a swift punch to Kaz's stomach. He doubled over from the searing pain, kneeling on the ground. He couched in attempts to catch his breath.

Reaching down, Pekka grabbed a fist full of Kaz's disheveled hair. He forced him to look upwards in which he could now see the line of blood trailing over his mouth.

"After I beat you, I'm gonna hand your body on a post as a reminder to anyone who forgets that I'm king of this city." Pekka claimed.

"Do your worst," Kaz challenged.

Another punch was brought down onto Kaz's face which sent him to the ground once more. He swiftly kicked his stomach many times over. Each time being more painful than the last. Kaz kept his eyes squeezed shut as if to try to manage the pain.

On the side, Y/n wanted to rush over and kneel beside him. She'd gingerly lay her fingers over his aches and pains in attempts of bringing him some sense of comfort. She needed to heal him. And she didn't know how much more he could take.

With one final blow to the side of the head, Kaz fell unconscious to the ground. His blood trailed down the length of his face, staining his skin. He blinked a couple times as he was brought back to a painful reality. He could hear the sirens now.

One of Pekka's men had come to inform him about the sirens, which initiated a quiet conversation between the two of them. He announced the return of the firepox. But all the places that had been reported to have been hit where nowhere near each other.

"There will be outbreaks at all of your establishments," Kaz said as he found the strength to stand to his feet. "And only yours," Kaz breathed heavily.

For a moment, Y/n was very confused. She furrowed her eyebrows as if trying to make sense of what he was claiming. She wondered. What are you up to, Kaz Brekker?

"The path of contagion will be clear. A ship in your harbor spread the disease to your clubs," Kaz explained.

"What did you do, boy?" Pekka wondered.

From earlier, Nina could remember the conversation she had with Kaz. How Kaz was going to pay to keep Matthias out of the fights in Hellgate. But Nina needed to do something for him first and she needed to make it look real.

"There is nothing an island nation fears more than disease," Kaz told Pekka. "The Merchant Council's going to want a proper investigation."

Meanwhile, Pekka was loading one of his handguns. He slipped another bullet into the barrel. He cocked it in his hand.

"You've got my attention," Pekka confessed. "But you're not worth the time it'll take to put a bullet in your head."

"Fifth harbor is shut down. Your businesses are tainted," Kaz continued.

Unbeknownst the the others, Jesper had slipped through the doors wearing a glorious red and golden cape. He managed to slip through the heavy crowds with the intent of listening in on the conversation.

"My businesses will be fine," Pekka raised his gun to Kaz's head. "But you?" Pekka began.

"I'd reconsider," Kaz interjected. "If you want to see your Kaelish prince again."

"What are you gonna do? You gonna blow it up again?" Pekka wanted to chuckle. "You need to learn some new tricks."

"Your other Kaelish prince," Kaz emphasized. "Fond of sweets. Blond hair."

Now Pekka had shifted from one foot to the other. He tried not to show any signs of weakness, suddenly realizing who he was talking about.

"Alby," Kaz seethed.

"I'll kill everything you love, Brekker." Pekka promised. He half expected him to look over at her in the corner. But Kaz kept his gaze locked on Pekka.

"The trick is not to love anything," Kaz claimed. Naturally, Y/n could only feel her heart plummet into the deep confines of her chest. She sniffled her tears away. Maybe she was just another waitress to him. "Your mistake was that you let someone get in. Someone you'd sacrifice everything for and it makes you weak," Kaz spat.

"Then I'll just kill you," Pekka tried.

"Do that," Kaz encouraged. "And you'll never find your son in time."

"What did you do?" Pekka looked horrified.

"I buried him. Six feet deep," Kaz spoke heavily.

"He went into that box so easily. Didn't even cry," Kaz pulled a small wooden train out of his pocket. "Until I took this from him."

"Where's my son?" Pekka demanded.

"Make smart choices. And you might just reach him before the air runs out," Kaz explained.

"You trifling piece of barrel trash," Pekka growled. "What the hell do you want?"

"I want you to remember," Kaz stated firmly. The images of his dead brother flashed through his mind.

"Remember what?" Pekka wondered.

"A con you ran on two farm boys. Orphans," Kaz explained. "A promise to replace the family that they'd lost. And then you duped them out of everything. They ended up on the streets and they both died. But one of us was reborn," Kaz finished.

Despite the description, Pekka Rollins tried racking through his mind. He recalled every single job that he tried to pull off, specifically singling in on the ones that had gone wrong. But his mind came up blank.

"Too many pigeons to remember? Let me help you. Jakob Hertzoon," Kaz spoke.

"That was a long time ago," Pekka said slowly. He hear nothing in response. "So that's what this is all about? Why you look at me with murder in those shark's eyes of yours?" He scoffed.

In the background, Jesper began to make his way to the backside of the men who were holding Y/n captive. He remembered the plan that Kaz had laid out. He brought his hands to the handles of his pearly pistols, preparing himself for the worst.

"You were just two pigeons who I just happened to have plucked. And if it hadn't been me, it would've been somebody else." Pekka insisted.

"Bad luck for Alby that it was you," Kaz spoke loudly.

Upon hearing this, Pekka seized for Kaz's collar. He slammed his body against a nearby pillar, keeping one hand firmly on his chest. He pressed the barrel of his gun into the side of his neck as if to threaten him. But Kaz only smirked at him.

"You...you tell me where to find me son!" Pekka demanded.

"It's a simple trade, Rollins. Speak my brother's name and your son lives," Kaz explained.

In utter defeat, Pekka stumbled backwards in his place. He locked his jaw in place, feeling his teeth gritting together painfully. He clenched his fists at his sides. He was seething with anger and frustration.

"How about another hint?" Kaz pushed himself off the wall. "You called your daughter Saskia. She wore red ribbons in her hair," Kaz described.

At that moment, Pekka began to mutter under his breath. He was desperately trying to remember the name off the top of his head. He raised his hand to point at him.

"Okay. T-two boys from Liji," Pekka recalled. But this wasn't exactly what he wanted.

"Yeah," Kaz confirmed.

"You had a piddling little fortune. Your brother fancied himself as a trader. Wanted to get rich quick like every other nub who steps foot in the barrel," Pekka said.

"I want you to say his name," Kaz growled.

The room had fallen silent. The older man's heart began beating faster and faster as the desperation quickly began to settle in. He couldn't stand still, shifting from one foot to the other. He mumbled a few names under his breath, but they weren't the ones he was looking for.

"Come on!"

"I don't remember his name! I just want my son. He's all I have," Pekka claimed. He took a step forward. "I'll give you whatever you want, Brekker."

Now, Kaz's gaze shifted to the one who was once and now who claimed to be 'just a waitress' for him. Those were the exact words he needed to hear to get her back. He felt a heavy weight lift off his chest.

"I'm begging you," Pekka drew him back to reality.

"Are you?" Kaz wondered curiously.

With some hesitation, Pekka Rollins had found himself lowering to the ground on his knees. He hung his head low to hide his shame. The other members of the Dime Lions glanced at one another. They didn't really know what to think of the situation.

"First, you will return what is rightfully mine," Kaz hissed.

The sound of two guns clicking could be heard in the background. When the men turned their heads to look over their shoulder, Jesper was standing there pointing his guns at them threateningly. He motioned for them to release her.

Rather roughly, Y/n was released by the two men and pushed forward in her place. She stumbled from the force, landing on the floor in a heap. She groaned to herself.

Recognizing that she was now safe, Kaz proceeded to pull two pieces of paper out of his coat pocket. He held them up for the whole crowd to see. He explained what they were.

"A confession for the murders of Tante Heleen and Constable Sem. And a quitclaim deed for Inej Ghafa," Kaz dropped the papers to the ground. He made a pen appear in his hands. "Sign both if you want to find your son alive," Kaz further explained.

On his knees, Pekka Rollins did not hesitate to take hold of the golden pen and papers. He signed his name on both of them before handing them back. He had been bested.

Slowly, Pekka rose to his feet. He hated how this whole ordeal had gone down, how he had been humiliated in front of his men, and how he had been called out for being weak. But he did everything that he had been asked to do for the sake and safety of his only son.

"Where's my son?" Pekka wondered humbly. His voice sounded tired.

"Black Veil Cemetery," Kaz answered. He spared a glance to the room full of men surrounding them. "You'll need all your men digging to find him in time," Kaz claimed.

Without a moment to spare, Pekka Rollins was the first one to leave with all of his men following behind him. The only people left were Kaz, Nina, Jesper, and Y/n. As soon as those doors closed behind the men, Kaz finally caved in.

In a split second, Kaz had rushed to be at her side. He knelt down in front of her, ignoring the aching pain he felt in his right leg. He gripped her arms tightly, shaking her a little.

"Are you alright?" Kaz demanded an answer.

"Kaz..." Y/n said breathlessly.

"Are you alright?!" Kaz said a little louder. He shook her until a few strands of hair had fallen in front of her eyes. He could see the evident tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She shook her head in response.

Now Kaz had pulled her forward into a bone crushing hug. He could feel her shoulders shaking as she sobbed into his shoulder, clinging to him so desperately. He closed his eyes to relish the feeling of her being in his arms once again. He brought his hand to the back of her hair, brushing down her hair in attempts of calming her down.

"My darling..." Kaz whispered into her ear. "You're safe now. I've got you."

For the first time, Kaz had turned his head to press his lips against her temple. He whispered her name over and over again to bring her some sense of comfort. Her eyes grew heavily and she melted in his grasp. He rocked the two of them back and forth in a soothing manner.

His arms remained around her for comfort. He even managed to carry her back to the Slat, though it pained his leg badly. He laid her down in his bed and brought a blanket to drape over her body. He stayed with her all throughout the night.

Earlier, Kaz had lied blankly to Pekka's face. Though it was a trick to not love anyone, Kaz had failed miserably at that task. Because he had fallen in love with the person who managed to heal his heart.

[sankt-julius]

There's is an energy within my heart that can only be calmed by either loving someone unconstitutionally or by punching someone in the fucking face unconditionally

[ninacarstairss]

Netflix finally acknowledged sankt milo and his very important role in the show WE HAVE OUR MILO ICON

[yelenadelova]

Can I elect myself #1 Juris stan, I love him.

[yourpancakefulness]

I reread the main trilogy and realised that the ‘steel is earned’ quote was actually originally from Botkin! Zoya probably picked it up from him since he was her instructor (imagine young Zoya training diligently in order to ‘earn her steel’) Zoya was also described as his ‘star pupil’ and I think their relationship has the same vibes as Zoya and Juris in KoS

[unrequitedloveletter]

Certainly- Kaz Brekker

The reader is a bit of an astrology and astronomy alike geek for this, which I hope y’all don’t mind! Also, in this case, phones exist so lets pretend that phones exist in Ketterdam, making it a bit of a modern au, I guess!

Also, this’ll probably be a bit ooc for Kaz

Fic type- angsty fluff

Warnings- blood, mentions of death, and the reader is sick (nothing specific, I just kind of took random symptoms and made up a word for the sickness)

You were determined to see the stars before you went, and as you grew sicker, none of the crows knew when that would be, so, after a little convincing, the crows had gotten Colm to let you spend a couple of months at his farm in Novyi Zem, where the stars were the clearest at night, not burdened by light pollution or the screams of lively cities. 

It was the seven of you crammed into a basement, sharing beds, but none of them cared, and you were just glad to be with the people you called family. You were happy that they were with you, that Kaz was willing to wheel you everywhere when you got too weak to stand, that Jesper still made jokes, even despite watching you deteriorate. You were grateful for Inejs smile, Wylans music, Ninas impeccable tastes and Matthias and his big arms that could lift you and put you down without issue. 

The six of them had started taking shifts taking you outside. Nina took you outside Sunday nights, Matthias Mondays, Wylan Tuesdays, Jesper Thursdays, Inej Fridays and Kaz Saturdays. Wednesdays you rested up; ate when it was time to eat, used the bathroom when you needed, took a shower if it were the appropriate time, but other than that, you slept.

It was Kaz’s day to wheel you out, and you’d had a particularly rough day that day. Inej went with him, promising not to intrude on the time that you would spend together. She’d do backflips and run across the roof of the farm if you asked her to, but she’d not interrupt otherwise. 

“I love the stars,” you whispered, leaning back in your wheelchair and tightening the hold of the blanket over your lap. “Thank you both. For doing this.” 

“Don’t you worry, love,” Kaz murmured. “Just keep your eyes on the stars, okay?”

“We’re happy to do this,” Inej added. “All of us are. Really.” It was like both of them could sense it as well as you could. You had a feeling that the night would end terribly, just like the morning had begun.

You’d woken up only to need to rush to the toilet immediately, blood coming up your throat like bile, staining your skin and leaving your bottom lip red as a cherry. 

Kaz had been at your side in a minute, Nina and Wylan right behind him. Wylan kept your hair away from the sides of your face, Nina slowed your heartrate and Kaz wet a cloth with cold water to get your body temp down. 

Kaz had forced himself to stay in the moment, to not let his thoughts stray to the urge to sleep in the same bed as you to make sure that nothing happened while you slept--to be there in case something did--but to stay on the sun as it set and the faraway sound of Wylan playing his flute with the window open so that you’d be able to hear it. 

Once you’d gotten settled under a tree, Inej ran off, making her way inside and up to the barns roof, where she sat, keeping a watch from a distance as Kaz let you rest your head against his shoulder, gloved hand interlaced with yours. 

“I love you, Brekker,” you murmured. “Please don’t forget that. Ever.” 

“I won’t,” he whispered. “You’re gonna stay around and get better until we can spar again, and you can beat my ass even though I’ve my cane as a weapon.” 

“You know full well I can’t promise that,” you wished that you could. You desperately wished. “I’m going to die young, Kaz. I’m not gonna get to eighteen, much less eighty.” Kaz hated you for that.

He hated you because everything that you said somehow managed to be right. It was like you had a sixth sense for that kind of thing, and while, on missions, it proved useful, in that scenario, it just proved annoying. 

“You’re gonna make it to eighteen if it kills me,” he informed you. “I’ll take you around the globe if I need to, just to make sure you end up okay. I will not live a life without you in it, Y/N.” 

“You’re sweet,” you murmured. “Incredibly sweet.”

“Only to you, L/N.” That was the last bit of conversation for a long while as the sun set and the stars came out.

“Did you know that the moon isn’t circular?” You pointed lazily to it, bright and beautiful amongst the even brighter stars. “According to scientests, it’s actually shaped like a lemon!” Kaz didn’t fight his smile.

Of course you’d be spouting off the little factoids you knew about space. You loved it, how vast and crazy it all seemed. 

“And that the clouds at the center of the Milky Way smell like raspberries and rum?” Kaz snorted.

“Okay, now, theres no way that ones true!” 

“Oh,” you leaned up, booping his nose without a care in the world. “But it is! It’s in a study somewhere, I think! Look it up!” He laughed, pulling you closer to him as you rambled.

Inej had started doing running flips across the roof, spinning and dancing and no doubt laughing as she did. Kaz knew it was an elaborate effort to get you to smile, and it seemed to work as she moved; a delightful silhouette amongst a star filled sky. 

“I love you, Kaz Brekker,” you whispered. “You don’t need to say it back, but I really, truly do love you with every bone that exists in my body.”

“I love you too,” he said it without hesitation. “And I’ll love you until we’re old and grey, I swear it.”

“Don’t hold me to that promise,” you murmured. “You know how bad this is. Stop thinking that I’ll make it into the new year. I probably wont.”

“You will if it kills me, Y/N,” he gave your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I’ll drain the bank dry if I have to, I swear to Ghezen.”

You didn’t say anything after, too exhausted to even think about starting an argument with him, simply not wanting to. 

But then, an hour later, Kaz felt fear trickle into his stomach like it hadn’t ever in his life.

“And then theres Supernova. It’s like a star that’s dying having it’s last celebration. Like when we get a really big win, or when we get away with what we intended to get away with, and we all get shitfaced before we collapse onto our beds and sleep for the night? A supernova is a dying stars explosion. It’s the last celebration that the star has before it dies out.” you’d been rambling.

“Tonight is my... tonight is my...” Kaz had called for Nina right then and there, screaming her name while he felt you go slack against him.

“Zenik!” He screamed, not caring at all if he were to wake up Jespers father. “Zenik, call in that fucking favor with the bloody Ravkan prince!” Matthias came barreling out after her, phone in hand, already speaking to someone as Nina began working, steadying your heart and trying her hardest to keep you alive. 

Kaz had to force himself to walk away from it all, pushing his feet away after giving your shoulders one last squeeze and walking far out into the field. 

Once he was sure he was out of earshot, he couldn’t stop himself. Tears flooded his eyes and he found himself glaring at the sky, wanting to scream, wanting to shout, wishing that there was someone around that he could gut like a fish. 

“Saints,” he murmured through gritted teeth. “Sankt Ilya, Sankt Adrik, Sankta Alina of The Fold, I know I am a terrible person, but Y/N is not. They’re good, they smile, they laugh, they’re kind to others when those people probably don’t deserve their kindness. I know I’m damned, I know that you probably strongly dislike me, but they’re different.” He’d never asked the Saints for anything before, and he never would again.

“Please, just, let them live. Let them get the life that they deserve. I’ll do my best to make them happy, but you have to let me,” he wiped the tears from his eyes as they came. “They deserve the life that you’re so willing to take away, and all I ask is that you don’t take it.” He heard the sounds of the ambulance car and raced back to you, gripping your hand as they helped you onto a stretcher and out of the field, through the house and out the entrance. 

I won’t lose them, he told himself. A world without them is one that’s unbearable. 

O N E Y E A R L A T E R 

You laughed as Nina chased you through the halls of the Little Palace, running quickly through the endless corridors, your laughter carrying through them as you kept yourself in front of Nina.

Nikolai had kept you in the Os Altan palace since that night, where Inej laughed and danced and did her flips, whilst Wylan played the piano and Kaz sat beside you, listening to your ramblings without a care in the world. 

“You seem delighted,” Nikolai noticed as you stopped in front of his office. “I’ve never seen you walk without that Brekker boy at your side, much less run while Zenik is on your tail!” You shrugged, laughing as Ninas front crashed into your back.

“This is the best I’ve felt in a year,” you murmured. “I figured I’d see if Nina was up to chase me around this morning, and I haven’t stopped running since!” You peered in through the open office door, looking for that familliar mop of dark brown hair.

Nina wrapped her arms around you and gave you a gentle squeeze. “He’ll be here any minute,” she murmured. “He and the boys are just finishing up a job for Nik in East Ravka, but Matthias told me the second that they’d left!”

“Trust me. Y/N,” Nikolais smooth voice murmured. “I put them on one of my fastest boats. I knew how long it’d take them to get from here to east Ravka and back, and I promised him he’d be here when you finally awoke.” 

“Hows it feel, anyway?” Zoya appeared at his side. “Eighteen, I mean.” You shrugged.

“I miss Kaz,” you murmured bluntly. “I hate that I have to tell him that he was right, but I still miss him.” 

Nikolai took Zoyas hand, pulling her close as you and Nina watched, smiles on your faces. 

“Young love,” Zoya teased. “Zenik, let go of them so that they can turn around.” Nina obeyed, letting you go and moving to lean against the doorway with Nikolai and Zoya. 

You turned, and smiled when your gazes met. “You were right, Brekker,” you murmured, walking toward him as he held out your gift to you. “I’m better now, and the second that you’re ready to spar, I’m gonna beat your ass, even though you’ve your cane as a weapon.” He grabbed your pinky with his the moment you were within distance.

“How’d the heist go?” You murmured once the two of you had walked out of earshot. 

“Good,” Kaz let himself be close to you as you two moved, squeezing your pinky as you slowed your steps. “Plan went off without a hitch, for three idiots and a mastermind with a limp. I brought you this from it,” he held the gift out to you again, and you took it in your free hand, examining it.

“I had to ask permission for that,” he murmured. “I had to get the Ravkan kings seal of approval to steal that for you.” You laughed, looking it over.

It was a journal. Black and leather bound, pages crisp and untouched. A pen was tucked into the cover. 

“I promise, we’ll go home soon,” you responded. “I miss Ketterdam. I could go for some waffles.” 

“Don’t they have waffles here?” Kaz questioned.

“Not Ketterdam waffles, love. Ketterdam waffles are unlike any pathetic waffle from here! Doused in syrup and whip cream--” You let out a satisfied sigh. “So good it’s almost surreal!” Kaz smirked.

“Waffle date when you’re well enough to return home then?” 

“Certainly.”

[alinastracker]

hi, bonnie, my beloved!!! I don’t know if you’re still taking those college prompts but if you are, it think 21 is pretty cute <3 it’s definitely got malina vibes

ASK AND U SHALL RECEIVE MY LOVE<3 

prompt: I get stuck with a late class that doesn’t end until 9pm and I’m always anxious about walking across the campus to the dorms, so you offer to walk with me and one night, I find out that it’s in the exact opposite direction that you need to go in

it’s nice to have a friend

"And please everyone, actually read the assigned chapters for next week!" Professor Yerwei sighs as the class dismisses. "Miss Starkov can't continue to be the only one of you raising her hand."

Alina can't help her smug little smile as she packs up her things. At first, her classmates were quite happy to have someone else participating so they didn't have to. Their groans seem to indicate that won’t be working for them any longer. Pity. 

Her smile fades, however, as she takes out her pepper spray, clutching it tight in her right hand. Slinging her backpack onto her shoulders, she files out with the rest of her classmates. 

Alina loves her art history class. She's learned so much about Ravkan art throughout her years, which is fine, but this class actually focuses on the rest of the world, art from Kerch, Novyi Zem, and even Fjerda and Shu Han.

She just hates that the class is only offered at night.

It doesn't surprise her. The class itself isn't very large, mostly filled with students of mixed backgrounds like herself. But there's something cozy about the class. She feels safe there.

That is, until she steps outside and has to walk across campus to her dorm at nine in the evening. It's late September, which means the sky is nearly pitch black by the time class ends, and while the campus is fairly well lit up, there are a couple paths with burned out bulbs that need fixing, a few shadowy areas that give her cause to quicken her steps. Her roommate, Genya, has offered to make the trek just to walk with her, but she couldn't ask that of her friend. She would just have to grin and bear it.

Alina grips her pepper spray a little tighter and is about to step into the night when someone calls her name.

No, not someone. She knows the voice, even if he is new in her life. Malyen Oretsev. He sits in front of her and a little to the left, giving her the perfect angle to stare at the side of his beautiful face. Any time she's not answering questions, she's looking at Mal.

"Way to show us all up in class," he says, a teasing smile spread on his face. He moves with such ease, such surety, wearing an army style jacket that fits him in all the right places.

"Well, I can't help it you don't read the book," she teases back, momentarily forgetting her dreaded walk. She's made it three times now, but it has yet to get easier.

"Hey, who said I haven't read it? Maybe I'm just shy."

Alina laughs. "Good one, Oretsev."

He grins, and for a second, his eyes flash to where her hand rests at her side, locked around her pretty purple pepper spray. "Heading to your dorm?" When she nods, he says, "Mind if I walk with you?"

She's not sure if he's asking because he genuinely wants to walk with her or if he's just noticed how shaky she gets after class, holding her one line of defense close, but it makes her all warm inside regardless. "I'm not out of your way? I'm in Sankta Lizabeta Hall."

Mal shakes his head and drapes an arm over her like it's the most natural thing in the world, and oddly enough, it feels that way. "Not out of my way at all."

On the walk to her dorm, they talk about how refreshing it is to take a class taught by a professor from Shu Han, the plans they have for the upcoming weekend. Alina smiles the whole time, surprising herself with how at ease she feels. At some point, she stuffs her pepper spray in her coat pocket, forgetting all about it.

From that day on, Mal walks with her after class each Tuesday and Thursday night, with Alina almost always tucked under his arm. She tells herself she likes being close to him because the weather is getting colder and colder, but really, he just makes her feel safe and giddy and good.

One night in mid-October, they come out of class to a downpour. Groans pass between the two of them and the rest of their classmates as they make their way out, some of them going back inside to wait it out, others making a mad dash for their dorm or nearby car.

"Should we wait?" Alina asks.

Mal pulls out his phone and brings up a radar map. "Doesn't look like it's stopping anytime soon."

They share a look, and then, almost in unison, pull up the hoods of their coats and dash into the night, the storm swallowing the sounds of their laughter.

~

"My brother is always forgetting his things when he visits my room," Tamar is saying as she leads them up the stairs in Sankt Juris Hall. She has yet to meet Tamar's twin, Tolya, but from the pictures she's been shown, he appears to be a giant with absolutely gorgeous hair.

Once they're in her brother's dorm, she adds gentle to the front of giant, as they walk in on him in the middle of crocheting, a podcast playing from his phone.

"Ah, my book," he says, pausing his podcast and setting his work aside.

"Yes, yes, your book. Now stop leaving your shit in my dorm."

Alina laughs, and it brings Tolya's attention to her. "You must be Alina." He stands to his full height, and she has to look up to meet his eye. Saints, he seems tall enough to make two of her. 

"That's me," she says, and lets out a soft oof when Tolya wraps his large arms around her. Admittedly, his size compared to her own makes for a pretty great hug.

"Good to meet you. Tamar says you're a very talented artist. You'll have to show me some time."

She beams and nods to his abandoned yarn. "You seem to be something of an artist yourself."

Tamar groans. "Don't encourage him. I have so many scarves from over the years. Thank the Saints he's finally moved on to making things for his roommate."

"At least my roommate appreciates my work."

As the twins bicker, Alina walks further into the room. Tolya's side is neat and orderly, bed made, a basket beside it for all his crocheting, not a piece of trash in sight. The other side of the room . . . not so much.

She's seen worse, especially when it comes to boys, but the contrast is hilarious. His roommate's bed is a mess, pillows strewn and blankets hanging off like he left in a hurry. There's a few empty wrappers and water bottles on his desk, a pile of books stacked haphazardly. Then there's the heap of clothes shoved in a corner on his bed — clean or dirty yet to be determined. Her eyes linger on the pile, and she's not sure why until her eyes zero in on the hoodie on top. A very familiar hoodie.

Alina grabs it and turns to Tolya. "Do you live with Malyen Oretsev?"

Tolya pauses mid-bickering, glancing over at her. "You know Mal?"

She nods. "We have art history together."

"Oh! You must be the little friend — his words, not mine — he walks with after class. Lina. Huh, I should have put two and two together."

Alina scoffs. "Little friend?"

Tolya shrugs, and Tamar says, "I mean, he's not wrong."

She huffs, throwing the hoodie back onto Mal's bed, but says nothing, knowing she doesn't have an argument.

Just before they leave, Alina ducks her head back in and says, "Hey, Tolya? Don't tell Mal I was here."

If he finds her request odd, he doesn't show it, already going back to his crocheting. "Sure thing, little friend."

~

"So then, after doing all that catchup, they practically let Jrue steal the ball, and he runs down the court and tosses it just high enough for Giannis to dunk it in. It was incredible!"

"Uh huh."

Mal sighs. "I get it, you don't care about American basketball."

"Or American football, or our football—"

"Hey!"

"Okay, I care about your games."

"Thank you," he says, looking proud. "Anyway, you're saved."

They've reached Sankta Lizabeta Hall. Alina sighs, fiddling absently with a loose thread on her gloved hand. She’s wearing only one, because at some point today she had lost her pair, so Mal had offered up one of his — a gesture her heart has still not recovered from. She looks up at the building, then back to Mal. Admittedly, even when he rambles on about sports, she's always sad when their walk to the dorms after class comes to an end. Even though it's near freezing most nights now, their walk seems to take longer and longer. If Mal has noticed her slowing her steps lately, he hasn't said anything.

"Saved indeed," she says. But there's one more thing she has to do tonight before parting ways. "Though, I was thinking. You always walk me to my dorm, but I never do the same."

"Oh," Mal says and shrugs. "It's fine. It's not much further, no sense for you to backtrack."

Oh the irony. "I know, but still." She takes his hand, somehow warm despite the frosty air around them. Her heart skips a beat as she realizes this is the first time she's held his hand. "It's really only fair."

"Alina," Mal grumbles, and she can almost see the wheels turning in his brain, trying to figure a way out of this.

"What? It's not like you live much farther."

He groans. "It's late, and cold. You should get inside."

"What's the matter, Malyen?" She's grinning now. "You think I can't survive another minute or so out here? It's not like you reside in, oh I don't know, Sankt Juris Hall or something far like that."

She sees on his face the moment it clicks. Mal curses under his breath and asks, "How did you find out?"

"Tamar took me to meet her brother, and I just so happened to notice some very familiar clothes on a very messy bed. You're not quite as tidy as your roommate, Malyen."

"If you say my full name one more time, I'm going to bury myself into the ground."

Alina laughs and it’s just a little maniacal. "So what gives, Malyen? Juris Hall is like, a minute from class." Her own was around ten, longer if the sidewalks were icy or they took their time.

Mal's eyes turn downcast, and he kicks the pole of a streetlight. "I don't know. You just looked so uncomfortable leaving class each night, holding your pepper spray like your life depended on it, and I just — I didn't want you to be alone." He shakes his head. "I'm sorry, it probably sounds weird and creepy and everything you're trying to avoid."

Her heart is thumping so loud she's afraid he might hear it. But he's still not even looking at her. "Mal," she says softly, and finally he looks up. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

He's unsure for a breath longer — the first time, she realizes, that she's seen him be anything but certain — before finally, he smiles. Shyly. "Really?"

She nods. "It’s ridiculously kind of you, especially since you barely knew me then. But I’m okay, really. I don’t want you to keep going so out of your way for me.” 

Mal pauses, shuffling on his feet, and she can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “And if I said I wasn’t only doing it for you?” At her frown, he adds, “If I told you these walks are the best part of my week?”

She’s momentarily speechless as her brain scrambles for something to say, so she ends up blurting out, “Football practice is the best part of your week.”

His smile is sly as he says, “Football is the second best part of my week.”

“Oh, well.” Saints, she wants to jump his bones. She’s wanted to since the first time she laid eyes on him. But she hesitates still, needing to be sure before she can let herself leap. “Certainly there’s better places and times to go for a walk.”

Mal shakes his head, and there’s amusement in his tone. “Come on, Alina, are you really going to make me spell it out for you? It’s not the walk, it’s the company.”

“The company,” she echoes in a small, but pleased, voice. Her dark eyes are sparkling with something giddy — like she’s fifteen again, tripping over a smile from her crush.

He just shrugs as if to say, take it or leave it, and she knows her answer. 

Alina grins and shrugs in return. “Well, then I guess you can keep accompanying me.”

He snorts. “Oh, you guess, huh?” Mal suddenly drops dramatically to one knee, and in that moment she can see his confidence has returned, the easy way he moves, like he’s singing his favorite song and knows every word, every beat. “How generous of you, oh honorable Alina Starkov, for granting me the privilege of walking on the same pavement your very feet grace!”

Alina’s laughing, she’s been laughing for the whole speech, but now she crosses the distance between them and tugs on his arm until he stands. “You’re the worst,” she says, and before she loses her nerve, she kisses him. She can tell he’s surprised, but he recovers fast. His arms wrap around her waist, tugging her closer. One of her hands is on his red scarf — one of Tolya’s making, she knows now — while the other dares to run through his hair, a fantasy she’s had all semester. Suddenly it’s not so cold out anymore.

They pull away breathless, sharing careful, sheepish smiles of two people exploring something new; something exciting, but fragile. 

“I think we’ll have to find a new excuse to hang out once class ends in a couple weeks,” Alina says, looking up at him through her lashes, cheeks flushed. 

“Agreed. Maybe something involving food, or drinks.” He pauses, then very delicately brushes his thumb over her bottom lip. It’s somehow more intimate than the actual kiss. “Maybe more of this.” 

She bites down on the spot his thumb had just been. “Definitely more of this.”

Mal smiles, and this time, he’s the one to initiate the kiss, the one to tangle his fingers in her hair. They kiss until they’re dizzy and frozen — on the outside, anyway. On the inside, she’s all heat. They say their typical goodnights, but this time, they part with the promise of so much more than walking on the horizon. 

[greensaplinggrace]

not you saying the list of darklina gics you're gonna recommend is not a lot and then belting out essays about 15 fics lmao, it was great <3. Also i'm curious if you want to share you said you're writing multiple fics rn, could you share with us a little about them ?

I'm so glad you liked the list! 💕 I had a lot of fun making it and got the chance to ramble about my favorite writers a bit XD. I'll admit that I actually pulled out a lot more fics than I thought I would lol, so at least it wasn't as short as I'd worried. Although it's still a lot less than I would usually read in a fandom where I wasn't writing fic.

I'd love to share a bit about the fics I'm writing! I have a lot of AUs and ideas in my WIP folder, but I'm currently only really engaging with a few right now.

Born to Be [Redacted] is my biggest WIP at the moment. It's a Malarklina Rapunzel/Tangled Fusion AU wherein the Darkling is stuck in a tower and Malina are chaotic and decide to break him out.

Of course, the Darkling is nowhere near as innocent as Rapunzel, and Mal and Alina are a lot more capable than they were at the start of SaB. It's got a fun play on power dynamics and learning to trust and hurt/comfort tropes, plus a good balance of darker elements and lighter elements. There's going to be adventure and romance and a whole lot of fucking over the Ravkan monarchy 💕

Inch By Inch We Drown Ourselves is a long Malarklina smut fic that has once more gotten away from me and become more complex and emotional than I ever intended for it to be.

Mal and Alina are together and married in an open relationship when Mal brings Aleksander Morozov home for a one night stand. The sex is mind-blowingly good, and Alina eventually joins in as the night progresses. The next morning, when Mal and Alina wake up, Aleksander is gone but he's left his number.

For a few days, they don't call him and their lives return to normal. But then, after a particularly wild night, they invite him over again. And then again. And again. And again. And once he's become a part of their lives, there's no stopping the chaos that follows.

It's got a lot of soft BDSM elements, and explores the very slow and gradual process of Aleksander, who is usually very dominant in bed, learning to give up control with people he trusts.

At the Foot of Her Altar is a short and very dark Darklina fic. It's a lot less down to earth than the other ones, and has a bit of a focus on existential morality.

General Aleksander Morozov worships Sankta Alina, Goddess of the Sun, Goddess of Life and Virtue. Everyday he kneels at her altar, blood on his hands, and prays.

Backwards Acceleration is a WIP that I haven't quite figured out the endgame couple for yet. It's leaning towards Malarklina or Darkblade at this point, but could very well go Darklina. And it's basically just a very elaborate role reversal AU.

Aleksander meets Mal when he's younger. They grow up together as friends, and they both decide to join the army when they come of age. For a few years, they train and rise in ranks and go on missions, getting put in separate units and often spending time apart.

Then they're both set to cross the Scorched Wastes, and an attack on their train forces Aleksander to expose his powers. He's taken to the Exalted Sanctuary, where grisha are brought to be protected and train as priests, separate from the rest of the world.

But Aleksander is a fighter. He does not cower. He does not hide. And the best kind of defense is not one where you lock yourself away, frightened by your enemies; it is one where your enemies aren't ever alive to be a threat to you in the first place.

Now all he must do is convince Sankte Alina that the best place for her to protect her people is not behind the walls of a holy church, but instead on the throne.

Meanwhile, Mal is left wondering just how deep into trouble his friend has gotten, and why he ever attached himself to such a disaster of a person in the first place.

---

I also have a few prompts that I've been working on, plus the second chapter to We Have All the Time in the World. Some of the other AUs, like the Guardian Angel AU and the Con-Artist AU and the Time Travel AU, are going to start being written after I've completed everything else. Unless I'm suddenly and unfortunately struck by inspiration for something that I haven't already almost completed lol.

Anyways! That's just some of what's going on right now in terms of my fics! 😅 I hope you like it so far.

[booklovingturtle]

A Sweet Suli Spice (Kanej GVBB)

A/N: AH I can’t believe the time has finally come for me to share this with you all! I had so much fun working on this in the midst of the worst and most stressful semester of my life!

Shout out to my gang, Spice of Life, for making this so much fun bc they are all so talented and easy to work with! The Corporalki both understood my writing which made the revising/editing process really smooth. They made sure the fic you’re about to read is actually understandable. They read this more than once and in the midst of their own crazy lives which I will never not be thankfull for. The Materialki are ridiculously talented. You HAVE to click their links to check out their work. I know they all worked really hard on them and it totally paid off.

Also big thank you to @grishaversebigbang​ for hosting this and being a terrifying yet wonderful Master of Tides.

Please feel free to comment, reblog, or message me your reactions to this! It’s the first super long pic that I’ve ever written and I’m really proud of it. Okay enough rambling…ik y’all just want the fic!

Corporalki: @ninxszenik , @ethereal-magia

Materialki: @theartistwitch  @wavesofinkdrops @xan-drei

Masterlist: Don’t have an Ao3 but I do have a master list of all my fics.

Summary: Inej Ghafa hasn’t seen her family in four years. Not since she’s been taken. Now that it’s been so long since she’s seen them, Inej is scared and nervous to go back. One night, while sitting on the rooftop, Kaz asks her to teach him Suli. That inspires Inej to fight her nerves and finally find her family. She asks Kaz to go home with her and he takes this opportunity to learn more about her and her people. Once home, Inej is faced with a guilt of her past, the fear of family’s reactions, and the hope of finally being ghar (home).

The heart of Suli culture flowed with spice-flavored blood and beat to the sound of performance drums. It hummed through Inej’s body every time she whispered her native language to herself under Tante Heleen’s ring-clad fist. She stored the precious words so deep inside of her that she feared the garbled sounds of Kerch would drown out their melodious syllables.

Once she was under the employment of the Dregs, she would practice Suli as often as she could. Some nights she would stare into the mirror, barely recognizing the woman in front of her as she spoke in Suli to herself. She would even write letters to her family in the beautiful script they had taught her. Those letters were always burned before the ink could dry. The content didn’t matter to her. She didn’t write them for the sake of filling a paper with impossible hopes and dreams. She wrote them because she feared losing her mother tongue. It was an irrational fear that she had never been able to vocalize to anyone before. Well, at least before Kaz came into the picture. He had asked her one night if she could teach him Suli and noticed, as he always did, the change in her face at the mention of it.

“I understand if you don’t feel comfortable teaching me. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Kaz reached out to place his hand on her leg.

Inej watched his pale, scarred knuckles rest on her knee. They had made their way up to the roof of the Crows Club, as they usually did when Inej was home. Whatever time wasn’t spent up there was used to carefully test the idea of being together.

“It’s not that I don’t feel comfortable. It’s that…” Inej’s words wandered away from her. She watched the way his thumb moved along the inside of her knee. It was such a small touch for someone else; for a different boy and a different girl that touch was meaningless. For them, it was everything.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“No. I want to. I’ve spent so many years away from Ravka and most of my people. I only ever get to speak Suli when I’m working with the Dregs or helping people escape a sinking slave ship. For years, I was afraid that one day, I would wake up and forget the language entirely.”

“Is that possible?” His deep voice sounded raspy but soothing against the black night. “Not to lose it in one day, but for you to just forget Suli that easily?”

Inej nodded slowly. “I already have.” It broke her heart to admit it. “When I first arrived to Ketterdam, everything came to me in Suli. Dreams, thoughts, speech. I had to learn to filter my words into Kerch. Now I find that more and more of my thoughts and dreams come in Kerch than they do in Suli.”

Kaz was silent for a few heartbeats. Inej felt as if she had stripped herself bare in front of the entire Barrel. It was odd to feel that way around Kaz now. He had seen and touched parts of her that no one else was ever given permission to. Kaz knew her like no other person could, yet this was a part of her she hadn’t accepted about herself, let alone explained to him. There was an intimacy that came with talking about her culture that made her feel exposed.

“The language is not the only thing that ties you to the culture, Inej. You will always be Suli as long as you carry it in your heart.”

Tears surprised Inej by burning the back of her eyelids. “Come home with me,” she spoke through the lump in her throat.

He looked taken aback. “Home? You mean Ravka?”

She nodded. Inej had felt confident the first time she asked the question, but the way Kaz was looking at her now made her doubt her request.

“Yes. To Ravka. To my family. I-I’ve been thinking about going back for a while now. I even asked Nina for her help in tracking my family down.”

“I didn’t know that,” Kaz’s eyebrows came together in a way that meant he was already calculating things. She recognized that look: scheming face.

“You may be Dirtyhands on this island, Brekker, but that doesn’t mean you’re privy to everything east of Kerch.”

Kaz grinned wickedly. “Maybe not east, but we all know that I was able to conquer the North quite easily.” This was also a new side of Kaz that she had gotten to know over the last few months: one that was playful without an edge of cruelty attached to it. The air around them changed and Inej no longer felt the sadness that usually came with thinking about home.

“We conquered the Ice Court together. With the help of some friends, which you had to beg for help from, if I remember correctly.”

Kaz looked appalled. “I never begged.”

“So you admit that you did need our help.”

“Need is a strong word, Inej. The only things I need in this world are food, air, and you.”

It was her turn to look speechless. Kaz was rarely ever so direct with her about his feelings for her. She knew, of course, that he cared for her as she did for him. It was one thing, however, for her to know it and another for him to be so forward about it.

“And because I need you, Inej, my answer is yes. I want to go to Ravka with you. I want to go everywhere and anywhere with you. We’ll conquer the world together if that’s what you want. I want to be wherever you need me to be.”

Kaz’s words echoed in her head. She would hear them every time she thought of home. Her real home. Thanks to Nina’s help, Inej was sailing to Ravka within months with Kaz by her side.

The Wraith soared through the water and, in what felt like one night’s rest, Inej’s crew was docking The Wraith in Os Kervo’s main dock. From the stern of her ship, Inej could hear the sound of her crew talking and moving. The water lapped against the underside of her ship, gently rocking her reflection back and forth.

Inej prayed in Suli as she strapped Sankt Petyr and Sankta Alina to her forearms. She tried to quell the anxious shake of her hands while Sankta Marya and Anastasia were readjusted on her thighs. Sankt Vladimir fit snugly into her boot, making Inej wonder what her mother would say at the sight of her in Fabrikator-made boots, not Suli slippers. Sankta Lizabeta with her rose-engraved handle sat at her belt, hidden under the folds of her black Suli wrap.

When not in front of a roaring crowd, the Suli were a reserved people. Despite Tante Heleen’s disgusting portrayal of her culture, Inej still loved the vibrant colors of Suli dupattas and embroidered kurtas. When she felt the jerk of the anchor settling into place, Inej realized how long it had been since she dressed in chiffon and silk. She didn’t recognize the Suli woman staring in the mirror staring back at her. For one, the sleeves were tailored to be much longer than she would have normally needed during Ravkan summers. However, she didn’t want anyone to see the network of scars that decorated her skin from years of violence. The second thing that threw off her reflection was the way she’d styled her hair. Though she performed with her hair in a braided coil, Inej knew her mother loved it best when it was wild and loose. Finally, the last time she had seen herself like this was when she was still an innocent girl who yearned to grow into a talented acrobat.

Inej was now so fundamentally different from that child. If anything, the dupatta she was wearing felt like a costume.

Knocking forced her to turn away from her damned reflection.

“Adara aaen,” Inej called out, already knowing who it would be before he stepped into the room.

“I assume that means ‘come in,’” Kaz’s slim figure filled her doorway. He was dressed in an inmanulate suit as usual, gloved hands resting on top of his crow’s head cane and a smirk on his face.

“What?” Inej hadn’t realized the words had come out in Suli instead of Kerch. It was rare for her to mix the languages up like that. The fact that it had even happened spoke of her nerves. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to translate everything into Suli to get some last minute practice.”

Kaz’s arrogant look slipped and he shook his head. “No need to apologize. I love hearing you speak Suli.”

Inej forced a smile to her face. “If the Saints allow it, soon that’s all you're going to hear.” She looked out the port window, watching the lazy rays of sun dance along the sky. Somehow the Ravkan sky seemed to shine brighter than the Kerch one.

“Don’t slip away from me,” Kaz prompted her gently. She realized that she had started to float off into her own thoughts, something she’d found herself doing more and more the closer they’d gotten to shore.

“Are you ready?”

“No. But I don’t think I ever will be.”

“We don’t have to do this, not if you don’t want us to. I’ll go and ask Getz to take The Wraith right back if you’ve changed your mind, or we can take a trip to Nina’s instead. Whatever you want to do, I'll be here for you.”

Inej shook her head. “I might be terrified, but I want to do this. I just feel out of place in a Suli outfit after not having worn one in so long.” Her fingers pulled at one of the tightly knitted seams.

Kaz leaned his cane against the wall, closing the door behind him. He went up to Inej and turned her to face the mirror. “I don’t think your parents will be any less happy to see you if you wore a dupatta or a kefta or a sack. They’ll be too excited to see you.” Kaz’s arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her body into his. Inej felt his warm, solid chest against her back. She inhaled his calming smell, grateful for his presence.

“In Suli, we have a saying for people who have betrayed their kind, who have disgraced them or turned their back on them. Kadema mehim. It’s the worst sort of punishment you could receive for your actions.” She shuddered at the thought of ever hearing those words said to her. Inej herself had only ever used them once.

“I am not the same little girl who was taken from them. They might realize that and see me as forsaken. As someone who has turned away from the Saints.”

Kaz brushed her hair off to one side to rest his head on her shoulder. Kaz’s reflection towered over Inej’s own in the mirror. His sable eyes looked stubborn and unwaveringly serious. “You are many things, Inej, but a traitor is not one of them. It’s true that you are not the same girl you were when they knew you. But they will see that you grew into a brave, strong woman who will stop at nothing to do what is right for the people she loves.

“They will see that you have fought against all the odds and have become an unstoppable force that they should feel blessed to have in their lives. They will love you, Inej. It is impossible for them to not love you.”

This time she didn’t stop the tears that slid down her cheeks. She took a shuddering breath and placed a hand against his jaw. The sharp line was lined with light stubble, but that didn’t stop her from running a finger against its curve. Her fingers traced the scar beneath the right edge of jaw, thinking about the other scars that peppered his skin. Many of those scars earned alongside her.

“They will love you, too, Kaz.” Inej knew that he was almost as nervous as she was to meet her family, though he would never voice it out loud.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He kissed her cheek and pulled away. “They might think of me as the man who corrupted their daughter.”

She shook her head. “No, they will think of you as the man who has made their daughter too happy to put into words.”

Kaz stared at his gloves, refusing to make eye contact. “Will they? Have I?”

It was her turn to reach out to him. Inej wrapped her hands around his neck. “Yes and yes. You have made their daughter happier than she ever thought possible.”

Kaz’s hands tentatively grabbed her waist. His eyes were on her lips but he didn’t move. Not until she did. Inej leaned up, catching his mouth with hers. The sounds of the crew and the ocean were replaced by the sound of her heart in her chest. Kaz was always gentle with her. His kisses were soft like the petals of spring and sweet like caramel. He held her like there was nothing that could ever separate them.

Inej sighed, melting into his every touch. It was impossible to feel anxious or scared in his arms. His fingers pressed into her silk wrap and Inej released a gasp. Kaz took that opportunity to take everything she gave him. Her skin suddenly burned. The sweetness was still there, dancing with a fiery spice that surprised her. They had rarely ever held each other this long without the waters swallowing him up.

His hands buried themselves in her long hair. Inej reached into his jacket, feeling the muscles beneath his white shirt. Kaz then broke away, breathing hard and shuddering. His face was flushed and his lips looked deliciously swollen.

Inej, realizing what they had done, began to apologize for having been too forward.

“No. It wasn’t you. Believe me, it wasn’t that.” Kaz shook his head, gloved hands holding hers against his chest.

“But if it wasn’t...why did you stop?” Inej could feel a blush spreading across her cheeks.

“I really didn’t want to,” Kaz’s gaze made goosebumps dance across her skin. “But we need to leave soon if we want to make it to Ivets before dark. And to be quite honest with you, Wraith, I’m not sure how far we would have gone this time. I really didn’t want to stop.”

Inej laughed. “Neither did I. It’s okay. We’ll have time another day. We have the rest of our lives to do that and so much more.”

“Captain,” Getz called from outside her door. “The crew’s settled and waiting for your orders.”

“Duty calls, Wraith.” Kaz’s smile was as sharp as ever. He adjusted the tie she’d crinkled.

Inej pulled her shoulders back, stepped through the doorway and told her crew that they could do as they pleased for a few hours. Within the next hour, she and Kaz were on their way to Ivets, the city where Nina had informed Inej her family would be performing for the next week. Every road they passed brought her closer and closer to her family. Inej could hardly contain her excitement and nervousness. While passing a crowded marketplace, Inej almost barreled into a group of children running across the street.

“Whoa, Inej,” Kaz called as he held her back from stepping into the walkway. “Careful. I know you’re excited to see your family, but even I think it’s a little much to trample a few children along the way.”

“Could you imagine that after getting back to Ketterdam, the Wraith and Dirtyhands voyaged all the way to some unknown city in Ravka just to run over a few children?” she joked, though her voice wavered enough for Kaz to notice.

“When you put it like that...” Kaz’s eyes had the same spark in them that always appeared right before a job. “While that does sound tempting, I think my bloodthirsty reputation will survive despite having let them live.”

By sunset, Inej could hear the pounding of Suli drums. They had passed through the heart of Ivets’ main city before reaching the boundary of an open field. A golden tent heavily embroidered with thick swirls rose high over the clearing. Inej’s breath caught in her throat at the familiar sound of Suli folk music floating outside of its flowing entrance. Sweet curling smoke filled the air with the smell of fried dough, glazed fruits, and…

The smell of her family gatherings to celebrate the Saints. She envisioned her mother, kind and beautiful, carrying baskets full of fresh vegetables for dinner. Her father, strong and brave, chopping potatoes alongside his wife. Her cousins fighting over plates of food. Her aunts handing out sticky sweets. Her uncles setting up place settings.

The music reminded her of the first time she stood on a tightrope. The bottomless drop that yawned beneath her and the open sky that blanketed her. How it felt to be covered in performance glitter and to curl her hair to fall around her round cheeks. She remembered scrapping her hands on trees, trying to beat her cousins to the top. How it felt to look over the Ravkan landscape and see nothing but endless opportunities.

After years of darkness, years of bloodshed, years of the staccato sounds of Kerch, Inej Ghafa was finally home.

Home...and rooted to her spot at the edge of the circus grounds. Ravkans stood in line, waiting to be let into the performance tent; the same tent that she had spent countless days in during the early years of her life. A bronze-skinned man stepped out of the tent, dressed in loose fitted black pants and a thick, colorful coat. His voice was deep and stern as he hollered the rules of the performance out into the crowd of people.

Inej stared in wonder, unsure about who the man was. Chaacha Jilé was the one who used to tame the crowds before they entered the performance area. The man at the entrance was not her uncle.

“Hanzi,” the name came to her with a jolt.

Inej was suddenly flying. Or at least that’s what it felt like as the grass was crushed beneath her racing feet. One minute, she was standing beside Kaz and the next, she was running straight to her cousin, pushing through the crowd of guests until she stood at the very front.

“Hanzi,” she said again, this time facing the man whom she now recognized.

Her cousin’s words died on his lips and he froze, arms limp at his sides as looked at her. “Inej?”

A sob escaped her. She could hear the sound of the crowd’s confusion but she didn’t care.

“Hanzi,” was all that she could say.

His face broke into a smile. A roaring shout came from him as he yelled in Suli. “Inej! Inej is here! Masi Calla! Chaacha Baraz! Inej is home!”

Tears streamed down her face at the sound of her parents’ names: Calla and Baraz. Mama and Papa. Inej waited anxiously as the longest few seconds of her life passed. She could see from the sliver opening in the flaps a flurry of motion. She caught her name be repeated and questions thrown. Hanzi shouted again, tears in his own eyes.

Inej’s whole world froze as Mama and Papa came through the entrance. They stepped out, first looking at her cousin with an agonizing look of hope and confusion on their faces.

“Mama. Papa.”

They turned towards Inej as she called out to them. Her mother’s face was more wrinkled than it had been when she’d been taken. Her hair was still long and elegantly braided to the side. Her father’s beard was mixed with grays where it was once solid black. He was clutching his wife’s shoulder, eyes landing on his daughter for the first time in four years.

“Inej.” He didn’t say her name like Hanzi had. He said it with such certainty and conviction that it made Inej’s knees give out from under her.

Before her body could fully hit the ground, her parents’ arms were around her. She buried her face in her mother’s shoulder and wrapped an arm around her father’s waist.

“Esfir,” her mother whispered in her ear. Inej couldn’t describe the relief and joy that flooded through her at the word.

Esfir was Suli for ‘little star.’ Late at night, they used to tuck her under her covers with a kiss. Her mother used to say that Inej was her little star and her father would explain that she was their guiding light.

Inej didn’t know how long they sat in the damp grass, crying and hugging and whispering to each other.

“I’m home,” she would say.

“You’re home.” One of them would repeat.

“I prayed to all of the Saints that you would find your way home to us.” Her father said.

“They called us fools. Said that we would never see you again. They told us that you were taken too far for us to ever reach you again,” her mother cried.

“Never,” Inej promised. “I will never be too far to come back home. The heart is an arrow. It demands aim to land true. My heart is here.”

After some time, Inej realized that the rest of her family had come outside of the tent. Night had fallen and the crowd was now gone. Her older cousins looked as if Sankt Juris had come down to blow his blue flames. Disbelief filled their faces. Some of her younger cousins looked just as shocked, though less afraid of her. Inej also noticed the soft coos of the newest editions to her family. One toddler who must have born within the first year she was at the Menagerie. Two more who looked as though they came along while she was in service with the Dregs.

The Dregs. Kaz.

Inej pulled away from her parents, realizing who else she had forgotten about for the second time that night.

“Mama. Papa. I didn’t come here alone,” her words scratched against her throat. She hadn’t realized the tears had dried out her voice until that moment.

Inej turned around, knowing that Kaz would have waited as long as she needed him to. He still stood towards the edge of the trees. Inej called out to him in Kerch.

Kaz came forward, trying his best not to look like Dirtyhands under the cover of night with his crow’s head cane and thick gloves. Though he no longer needed them with her, Inej knew that he wasn’t ready to hug every member of her teary-eyed family.

Kaz stood beside her. Inej took his hand in hers and squeezed tightly.

“This is Kaz.” Inej had practiced this speech so many times in her head. She had carefully racked her brain for the proper words in Suli to say what she needed to say.

“Kaz and I...we have been through too many things together to explain in one night. Most of the last four years have been cruel and lonely. Kaz has been one of the few good things to come into my life since I was fourteen,” her words choked off. “I ask that you be kind to him and embrace him as a part of my life. He has saved it in many ways over the years. In some ways, it is thanks to him that I am here.”

Her father stood from where he was still crouched in the grass. He approached Kaz, looking more serious than Inej had ever seen him look in her life. He stood a few inches shorter than Kaz, but still managed to look down at him.

“Do you speak Suli?” Baraz asked him.

“No-” Inej was cut off by Kaz.

“Not fluently, but I am learning.” Kaz shocked her by responding in fluid Suli instead of Kerch. He gave her side-eyed look, clearly enjoying the shocked look on her face.

Her father nodded. “Then I can thank you properly. For helping my daughter return to us.”

Kaz bowed his head. “Inej is the wisest, most determined person I have ever met. She would have found her way back to you with or without me.”

Baraz laughed, “Esfir is just like her mother in that way. Nothing stands in the way of her and what she wants.”

Inej smiled in relief. “That is true. And right now, what I want is some stuffed peppers and goulash made the proper Suli way.”

Her mother laughed, standing to embrace Inej once again. “You can have whatever you would like, Inej.”

“My turn!” Hanzi called out from the cluster of cousins closest to her. Inej turned to find him now barreling towards her.

Inej froze for a second, not feeling entirely comfortable with the tight embrace. She tried her best to laugh through the rush of panic. It hadn’t even occurred to her until that moment how her homecoming would be full of physical touching that she wasn’t entirely ready for.

Her arms didn’t move from her sides, but at least she didn’t pull away until he did. Hanzi didn’t seem to register her tight shoulders.

“I can’t believe you’re really back, Inej! What took you so long? Adja has been driving me crazy. She thinks that she’s in charge now because she can do a handstand on the highwire, but now that you’re back, you can prove to her that you’re in charge. I even reminded her that you used to be able to do an entire double front routine on the high wire without a net.” While her older cousin may have gotten older, he still rambled half made up tales as though he hadn’t aged a day.

“I don’t even have the energy to explain how wrong that is,” Inej shook her head at her cousin’s infectious joy. Hanzi had always been one of her favorites because, no matter what, he could always tell some ridiculous story to make her laugh.

“First of all,” a female voice interjected, “I’ve been able to do a handstand on the high wire for years. Second, all I said was that you weren’t in charge, Hanzi.” Adja said from behind him. She was only two years younger than Inej, but she had been terrified of the high wire. While Inej had danced around it barefoot, Adja refused to step onto one.

“Come on, Nej. Remind Adja who the real master is!”

“No,” Calla stood in between her daughter and her nephew. “Inej has only been with us for a few minutes and already you are trying to get her in trouble,” her mother chided Hanzi.

Kaz chuckled from behind her. It was clear from his expression that, while he wasn’t able to understand all of their conversation, the sound of an upset mother seemed to be universally understood.

“Come, Esfir. We’re going to have a proper welcome dinner,” her mother nodded towards the rest of her family. “Disah and Remen, go to the Ivetan market…”

Inej allowed her mother to assign everyone their tasks while she looked back at Kaz. He was smiling, looking proud of her, but she couldn’t tell why.

“What?” she asked him in quiet Kerch.

“You didn’t pull away when he hugged you,” he truly looked proud of her. Inej looked towards Hanzi worriedly.

“No. I didn’t exactly hug him back.” It would have been a lie to act as though she wasn’t disappointed in her reaction to Hanzi’s embrace. It was an unexpected reality of what she had endured all those years ago. “Do you think they noticed?”

“He was too excited to have you back to notice,” Kaz shook his head. “That’s not the point. The point is that you didn’t pull away. It wasn’t easy, but you did it, Inej. You’re home and your family couldn’t be more happy to see you.”

She took a deep breath. She hadn’t even realized that her nervousness had started to creep up on her after Hanzi’s hug until now. For a while there, she had forgotten about all of her anxieties. Now that her family had split itself into their roles to prepare for her homecoming diner, she had a quiet moment to be reminded of them.

That was when Kaz, ever supportive and aware of how she was feeling, stepped in to ease her nerves. “Kaz, do you think I should tell them the truth?”

“You don’t owe anyone any explanations. You tell them as much as you want to. It’s your story to tell.”

Inej had known long before that night on the rooftop that she was in love with Kaz. She had known for quite some time. As she stared into his honest eyes, surrounded by the sounds of her family, Inej was reminded of how deep her love for Kaz Brekker went.

“What did I ever do for the Saints to bless me with you,” she wondered out loud.

It was hard to tell with the pale moonlight as her only source of light, but for a moment, Inej thought that she saw Kaz’s face blush. His gaze left her and landed on the starry Ravkan sky.

“I ask myself the same question about you every day that we are together, Inej.”

“Nej!” Adja yelled from the performance tent. “Masi Calla asked me to help you and your...friend...find new clothes.”

Inej looked down at her Suli dupatta. “What’s wrong with what we have on now?”

Adja eyed the Wraith and Dirtyhands with pursed lips. “You both look as though you’re going to a funeral. Tonight is a party, Nej. You need to be dressed in party clothes. Now let's go, Masi might cut the wire during our next performance if I don’t get you both dressed in time.”

Inej remembered how her mother used to fuss over her dirty silks when she came back inside from an afternoon spent playing outside. “You’re right. Mama would absolutely do something like that.”

“Where are we going?” Kaz asked her, keeping up with her hurried steps with his usual ease.

Inej glanced at him. “Oh, so you suddenly don’t speak Suli anymore?” They walked around the performance tent to the line of caravans far behind it.

Kaz smirked arrogantly. “I never said I did. Just that I was learning. You didn’t think that I was going to come and meet your entire family without at least attempting to familiarize myself with the language, did you? It’s not that difficult to memorize a few phrases here and there.”

She pushed him lightly with her shoulder. “How about on the boat? Were you faking then?”

Kaz shook his head. “Technically, I wasn’t faking. I know some words and phrases, but not everything. Not yet. Give me a few weeks with your family and I’ll be fluent.”

Inej rolled her eyes. “Not a chance, Brekker. My language is too poetic for a shevrati like you to con your way in that short amount of time. Memorizing a few parables is not the same thing as being able to use all the beautiful nuances we have.”

“It would be easier if I had some help from a beautiful and smart teacher.”

“You’re right. I think Hanzi would probably be willing to sign up.”

“It’s rude to speak in another language, you know,” Adja said from in front of them. The three of them finally stopped in front of Adja’s family caravan.

Kaz shot a glance at her cousin. Inej translated and he apologized in Suli.

“Not you,” Adja nodded towards Inej. “I meant Nej. She was always a quiet one, you know. At least you got her talking.”

Kaz nodded along pleasantly thought it was clear he didn’t understand. When Inej explained, his bitter coffee eyes looked amused.

“I wasn’t quiet, Adja. Hanzi was just usually screaming over me about nothing.”

Adja giggled and unlocked the door. “That is probably true. I was thinking, you should fit in my outfit from Sankta Day last year instead of just a normal dupatta. As for Ka-s,” she stumbled on his Kerch name, “He can borrow Papa’s performance kurta.”

Kaz looked somber, but didn’t argue. “Chaacha Micta used to make some interesting fashion choices,” Inej explained to him as her cousin went in search of the outfits.

“How so?”

Inej bit her lip, holding back laughter. “Let’s just say that he probably could take a few tips from Jesper.”

His eyes widened. “Inej-”

It was too late. Adja emerged from behind a curtain carrying multiple pieces of thick fabric. For Inej, she had a neatly folded Anarkali suit of rich burgundy. Sparkling gold embroidery lined the long, slightly flared skirt and traced the cuffs of the fitted sleeves. A light, white and gold wrap also came with the outfit. On top of it sat a pair of high heels that matched the wine-colored clothes. Inej took the clothes into her hands, feeling the soft yet firm fabrics that were saved for more festive clothing in her culture.

“It might be a little long for you,” Adja eyed Inej’s smaller frame. “But it will do.”

“Thank you, Adja.”

She shrugged off her cousin’s thanks. Her other hand still held Kaz’s outfit. He was standing dangerously still beside Inej. His face was blank of any reaction, but Inej could only imagine what was going through his head. While her outfit was designed with elegance and grace in mind, Kaz’s was made for a true showman. Or at least for a color blind one.

Chaacha Micta had a performance kurta that was radiant white with orange and green gems cascading down the sleeves. Sunset colored pants were folded to match the sparkling jewels. It was both bright and sparkly, two things Kaz hated in clothing.

“Dhanyavaad,” Kaz mimicked Inej’s Suli to thank Adja. Inej was reminded of how good of a liar he was because if she hadn’t known better, she would have thought Kaz looked almost excited to wear her uncle’s kurta.

Adja beamed, looking between the two. “I don’t think Chaacha Baraz or Masi Calla would be okay with me leaving you two in here alone to change but…” Her cousin broke off and shrugged. “If you brought, Ka-s all the way here, I have to assume that it is not the first time you’ve been left alone.”

Heat flooded Inej’s cheeks. She couldn’t meet Adja’s eyes when she nodded. “It’s okay. Mama and Papa won’t know if you don’t tell.”

Adja continued to look between them. It was the same look Nina had given them before Inej had actually opened up about her relationship with Kaz. A look that said that Adja could see something they couldn’t. She was used to getting that look from her friends or other Dregs, but it was a little unnerving to see that look in the eyes of someone she hadn’t seen in years.

“Just don’t take too long. Chaacha and Masi will seriously cut the rope if they find out about this,” she pointed between Kaz and Inej. She swiftly ran out of the caravan, giggling at Inej’s eye roll.

Once she was out the door, Inej’s focus was back on Kaz. His polite smile dropped with Adja out of sight.

Kaz spoke seriously, “Inej, you know that I care for you deeply. More than anything in this world, I care for you.”

Warmth filled her heart, but her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“Because I care for you, I want your family to like me.”

“I already told you-”

“Yes, I know. I’m wonderful. A trickster god amongst men. But that’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what is it?”

Kaz looked at her in disbelief. “Do you even have to ask me that question? This,” Kaz raised the clothes in his hands to meet her eye level. “I’ve never seen anything so…”

Laughter burst out from Inej. She quickly moved to cover her mouth with her hands, but there was no concealing the way her body shook from amusement.

“That is a traditional Suli kurta, Kaz. It’s an important part of my culture.”

He shook his head. “I have seen kurtas. This does not look like that. This looks like some nightmare Jesper and Nina would have designed.”

“Poor Dirtyhands is too insecure to wear something so dazzling,” Inej placed a hand on his cheek. She ran a finger down the sharp cut of his jawline. “I’m sure you’ll look great. Not as good as Chaacha would in it, but a close second.”

Kaz’s eyes held a playful fury. His ebony eyes only ever fixed on her that way. It was a look that promised both a punishment and sweet reward for her words.

“If the Dregs ever find out about this…”

A wicked smile broke onto her face. “I can’t imagine how they would. I keep all your secrets.”

“Don’t even think about telling them, Wraith.” One of Kaz’s arms found her waist.

“Jesper, on the other hand,” her fingers moved to run through his hair. “Jesper is a bit of a big mouth. If this somehow got to him, I don’t think there is any way of stopping him.”

“I can think of at least twelve different ways I could stop him with this kurta alone.” His face moved closer to hers.

Inej turned so his lips landed on her cheek. “No time for that, Brekker. We have to get dressed.”

He sighed and gave the bedazzled shirt a weary look. “If you ever doubt how I feel about you, Inej, just remember this moment.” Before she could respond, Kaz gestured towards the room Adja had gone into to find the clothes. “I’ll change in there.”

Time and time again, Kaz reminded her of why she fell for him in the first place. He had seen every part of her and touched almost all of her, yet Kaz never made assumptions about her limits. No matter how far they had or hadn’t gone, Kaz always asked for permission. On the nights when all she could do was hold his hand, he never pushed her to go further. Even now, after what had happened on the boat and having had met her family, Kaz gave Inej the privacy she needed without hesitation.

With Kaz gone from her sight, Inej was left to unstrap her daggers and quickly dressed into Adja’s Anarkali suit. After a few minutes, Inej stopped hearing Kaz’s quiet cursing.

“I’m almost ready.” She called to him through the curtain.

He shuffled around on his side of the caravan. ���This looks even worse than I imagined.”

Inej ignored him, debating whether or not to strap on her beloved blades for the feast.

“Inej?”

“I’m almost ready, you can come out.”

Kaz had been right. The kurta had looked worse than she had imagined. The shirt hung at little too loose from his slight frame, but the pants were too short for his tall stature. They stopped just above his ankles, showing a peak of his white socks.

“Oh.” Inej cringed. “You were not joking.”

Kaz looked at her intently. “You look beautiful, Inej.”

Inej had yet to see herself in the mirror, but Kaz’s reaction was all she needed to confirm what she had already suspected. Adja was slim like Inej but stood a few inches over Inej . The rest of her outfit fit as it was tailored to. The top complimented her figure while the bottom flared out into an elegant skirt that pooled around Inej’s feet more than she would have normally allowed. It wasn’t perfect, but she loved it regardless.

“Traditionally, I would have special Sankta Day earrings that have some sort of token to represent a Saint.” Inej absentmindedly tugged at her ears. “Though, I haven’t worn any earrings since leaving the Menagerie.”

His look softened. Kaz forgot all about his unfortunate attire. “Would you like to? I’m sure Adja would let you borrow hers.”

“The holes have closed by now. It’s okay. I don’t need them. I have these.” She slid Sankt Petyr, the dagger he had given her so long ago, into place. She tried to ignore the fact that it took her far less time to strap all seven of her blades into place than it had to properly dress herself in the Sankta Day skirt.

“I’ll tell Adja we’re ready.”

“Wait,” Kaz’s fingers intertwined with hers. He reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a matingkia made of expensive gold and rich-colored stones. It was simple, as far as Suli headpieces went, with one clear diamond in the middle of a small ruby flower.

“Kaz,” Inej’s breath caught in her throat. “Where did you find this?” Her fingers curved delicately around the precious metal.

“A vendor in Ketterdam had a tent full of Suli jewelry. He has a Suli wife that makes all the items to sell.”

“Do you believe him?” It was more than possible that the vendor’s story was a ruse to get more money from gullible tourists visiting the island.

“I’ve met her.”

“You did?”

“Yes. When I asked her to make this one for you.”

The matingka felt heavier in her hand than it had moments ago. “You asked her to make this for me?” Inej tried to envision Dirtyhands entering a Kerch market to meet with an ederlly Suli woman. She thought of how long he must have spent picking the design, and then jewels to place in it.

“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered to him. “She’s clearly very talented.”

Kaz tried not to look too smug which was a change for him. “Only the best for my Wraith.”

“Sometimes we wear them for special holidays.” Inej debated whether or not to say the next part. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by making any assumptions. “These are traditionally given to Suli women by their father or husbands.”

She saw him nod nervously. “I know. The woman, Gintha, explained to me the tradition. She said fathers would give them to their daughters and pray that the Saints would give them wisdom as they grew into strong women.”

“Did she tell you why husbands give them to their brides?” She couldn’t deny the fear or eagerness that she felt waiting for his answer.

“To symbolize the love and respect he promises to show her every day after they are wed. The same love and respect that I have felt for you every day for too many years to count.”

Inej’s body was frozen with emotion. Love. Kaz loved her. He didn’t just love her. He respected her. Respected her boundaries and dreams and goals.

“Nej! Are you done yet?” Adja suddenly banged against the door of the caravan.

The reality of her situation flooded back to Inej. For a few moments, she had forgotten who she was. Where she was. Inej took the head piece, not bothering to hide her flustered look as she pushed Kaz back behind the curtain.

“Get out of those clothes. Hurry!” Kaz laughed and she realized how her words sounded. “No! That’s not what I meant. I mean change back into yours! My family will just have to deal with your Kerch suit during dinner.”

She rushed back to the door and let Adja in. “I’m almost ready.”

Adja looked her up and down. “It fits better than I thought. And Ka-s?”

“The clothes didn’t fit him so he’s changing back into his. Here,” she handed Adja the matingka. “Can you help me put this on?”

“Did he give this to you?” she pointed towards the curtain.

“Yes. Now help me put it on. I’ve never put one on myself. Papa only ever put it on me once.”

Adja waved her off. “It’s easy.” She spun Inej around and took a few hair pins from her own brown hair to fasten it into place. “There! Done! Just in time.”

Kaz walked into the room, looking much less miserable now that he was dressed in his own clothes.

“Tell her that her father’s wardrobe should be burned.”

“He says that he loved the kurta and is sorry that it didn’t fit,” Inej easily lied. “Also your tie is crooked again.”

He cursed under his breath and nervously put into place as her cousin spoke.

Adja beamed at her. “I don’t believe that’s true, but it doesn’t matter. Come on! Everyone is waiting for you.”

Inej’s stomach turned over nervously. She had been so overcome with emotions when she’d first greeted her family. Those emotions were starting to settle, but in their place grew the seeds of anxiety once again.

Inej and Kaz trailed behind Adja as they made their way back from the caravan section of their carnival to the performance area. Inej looked around the cool night air, keeping track of all the things that looked familiar and different at the same time.

She pointed to a smaller performance tent made of a thick white sheet. “What’s that?” she asked Adja.

“We started to tour with a second family about two years ago. Hanzi is engaged to the daughter of their paira vaala.” A breeze opened the flap of the white tent and Inej could see the bed of coals used for the paira vaala, or fire walker.

“Hanzi’s getting married?” Inej couldn’t imagine her cousin as she had last known him having a fiancé. He was always too loud and playful when around his family, but unearthly quiet around other girls their age.

“I know! We were all just as surprised as you were. Chaacha Jilē almost fainted.”

“He didn’t tell them that he was seeing her?” Inej’s surprise only grew. While she may not have gotten her parents’ permission before choosing to be with Kaz, her situation hadn’t given the option of choosing the favored Suli traditions.

“He didn’t even tell me! And I’m his favorite bhara. At least I have been since you…” Left? Were taken? Disappeared? Inej could hear the end of Adja’s sentence even if her cousin didn’t want to fill it in.

“I remember that,” Inej awkwardly filled the silence. She pointed to a section of tents reserved for carnival games. “Kila,” one of their older cousins, “once bet me thirteen kruge that I couldn’t win every game in the tent.”

“Kroog?” It wasn’t until the word left Adja’s mouth that Inej realized that she’d forgotten the Suli word for currency or money. It was such a small thing to forget, but it made her stop in her tracks.

“I-” she started to explain. “I’m sorry. I guess I just haven’t used that word in Suli in a few years. Uhm,” Inej racked her brain, digging deep into her memories to find the right word.

“What’s wrong?” Kaz, who had been silently listening to their conversation, spoke up. He couldn’t understand them, but he could see Inej’s face change. “I think I heard you say ‘kruge.’”

She shook her head, momentarily confused as Suli and Kerch collided with each other in her head. Rupe. The word finally came to her in a blunt memory. “I forgot the Suli word for money,” she said to him in Kerch and then explained it to her cousin again.

“Oh!” Adja didn’t seem fazed by her cousin’s slip up. “Kila was such a gambler. A terrible one too. Though I guess he doesn’t need to worry about that anymore. He married a wealthy Shu family. How he wiggled his way into that, I have no idea.”

Inej nodded along as Adja rambled. She was no longer listening to her cousin’s end of the conversation. Instead, she began filing through the mental dictionary in her brain. What other words had she forgotten?

Bread? Roti. Butterfly? Titali. Bowl? Katora. Horse? Ghora. Ocean? Samudara.

Random words were tossed and turned in her head. Adja continued to talk about their uncles and aunts. She went through family gossip as quickly as Nina went through maple-drizzled waffles. Inej didn’t hear any of it. All she could hear was the sound of her Suli-Kerch dictionary flipping page after page.

Torsion wrench? What was the Suli word for the little tool she had used numerous times to pick a lock? Had she ever known the word? Had she ever needed to use that word in her native language before? Would she even need to say torsion wrench during dinner tonight?

Ketterdam isn’t all that bad. At least I learned how to pick locks using a torsion wrench.

No, there was no way she could even imagine herself saying something like that to her family. Inej realized that she had let her nerves run a little too wild. Adja hadn’t even noticed when she said “kruge” instead of “rupe”. The odds of her family being upset with her for not remembering a word here and there were small.

Kaz tugged on the fabric of her skirt, drawing her attention to him once again. His dark eyes met hers, silently asking her once again if she was okay. This time she didn’t have to force a smile on her face to reassure him.

“How did Mama put together a dinner so quickly?” Inej said the moment the smell of paprika, garlic and bell peppers hit her. They had circled back around to the performance tent. Instead of it holding a crowd of entertained Ravkans, tonight, the tent would be used to spread out a Saints-worthy feast.

Adja beamed at her. “Masi Calla asked all of our masis and chaachas that were cooking dinner for after the show to add extra coals to the fires. Some of the food had to be bought from the markets so it won’t be exactly like you’re used to, but it’s all that we could get together so quickly.”

“It’s perfect. You could have fed me rocks and I would have been just as happy to be home.”

The heavy tent flaps were pulled wide open and she could see dark-haired figures moving frantically around the tent. The round seats used for audience members were stacked on top of each other. Inej remembered how long it took to carry the iron seats from the caravans to place them in their rows. She had been too small to carry them herself, so she would hold the bottom half of a stack while Hanzi carried the brunt of the weight.

The high ropes were still strung up from their looming poles. She itched to climb up and test her technique. The chaacha who had first taught her how to balance was strict about proper posture. Though she had no real use for it when sleuthing for the Dregs, she could still hear his sharp calls to straighten her spine or keep her gaze forward.

“Make room! Inej the Great has entered the tent!” Hanzi exclaimed. His voice cut through the flurry of her family’s movement. Inej realized why her uncle had stepped down to let Hanzi handle the crowds. His deep voice was effective when it came to getting a crowd’s attention.

Toffee and hazel eyes all met hers. All of her family, almost twice as many as earlier, froze where they were to stare at her and Kaz. His gloved fingers curved in hers, but no one seemed to care at that gesture as much as they cared about the dazzling headpiece sparkling in the candlelight. Her parents had tears in their eyes as if it was the first time they were seeing her again. Inej had to hold back tears of her own. She saw the circle of food splayed out around the lush carpets dragged from Saints know where to cushion the hard ground.

Sarma, stuffed peppers, bogacha, and xaimoko were still in their metallic cooking pots, steaming as if the fire had just been dosed from under them. Pirogo and xaritsa sat in porcelain crockery that Inej suspected came from the Ivetan market her cousin had mentioned. Silver kettles of chao filled the room with a lingering sweet smell. Dark cups of kafa were already served and in the hands of some to her cousins.

The meal flooded her with too many memories to catch at once. She was swimming in a stream of random memories. Her tongue burning from spicy stuffed peppers and then from chugging a fresh cup of chao in a vain attempt to ease the sting. Mama teaching her how to prepare the sarma properly. Papa stiring a pot of goulash.

“Why are you just standing there? Come! Sit!” Papa gestured to a spot right in front of Inej’s favorite platter.

She blinked back tears. No more tears. Tonight was for celebrating all that she had come back to, not for mourning the years she had lost.

“Some of it had to be bought so it won’t taste exactly like you remember but-” Her mother rushed to her side, holding her daughter’s hand and pulling her and Kaz towards her father.

“Mama, I don’t care how the food tastes. This is already so much more than I could ask for. Just being with you and Papa and everyone else is enough for me.”

Her mother’s dark brows furrowed. She took great pride in her cooking, as a Suli should. “Yes, yes, but still...If you had sent us some sort of message so we could have been prepared, the food would have all been ready. We would have canceled the show much sooner. But no, leave it to our little Esfir to show up as if the Saints had let her fall from their very sky at random.” The novelty of Inej’s arrival was definitely wearing off if her mother was already scolding her.

She laughed despite her mother’s pointed words. Inej settled in her seat comfortably. Kaz sat beside her, looking so out of place in this bright colored tent surrounded by equally colorful kurtas. She couldn’t believe the sight in front of her. Kaz Brekker being handed a steaming cup of chao in his crisp, black suit.

Her own hands were already clutching a plate overflowing with food. Her father had served her heaping spoonfuls of every dish that sat before her. He paused, looking at Kaz curiously.

“Eh...food?” Her father surprised her with the Kerch word. She hadn’t known he spoke any Kerch.

Kaz nodded, “Krpya.”

Her father looked excited by his answer. He piled almost as much food on his plate as he had on hers. Kaz was excellent at hiding his emotions, but there was no hiding the amusement in his eyes. He took the plate with open arms. Everyone, including Inej, watched as Kaz lifted a fork to take a scoop of the rice-stuffed green pepper. He didn’t even flinch at what she could assume to be the spiciest bite of food he’d ever had. He chewed slowly, ignoring the flush that creeped up his neck. Judging from the smell, her family hadn’t held back when it came to spices that night. Finally he smiled, thanking her father for the food.

That seemed to be the cue her family had been waiting for. Everyone unfroze and went for a plate.

Kaz waited until they were no longer staring at him to reach for the tea. She had to bite back a laugh as he gulped down the entire cup.

“Spicy?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

Kaz looked at her as if she had grown an extra ear. “Spicy? Inej, I thought I was going to die.”

This time she couldn’t hold back the laugh. Everything about the night filled her with so much joy and laughter that Inej had to put down her food for a second. Her stomach burned from the giggles that shook her body. Kaz was actually blushing as her cousins closests to her looked at them.

“Kaz said the food almost killed him.” She explained to them. “The Kerch prefer their food much less seasoned. Mostly a hint of salt and pepper. It’s actually very sad.”

All of them broke out into smiles.

Her mother who was still standing behind them said, “Tell Ka-s that he’ll have to get used to real food if he’s decided to stay with you.” She placed a hand on Kaz’s shoulder affectionately.

Kaz, clearly not expecting the sudden touch, went still. His body tensed beneath the touch and his jaw tightened. Her mother noticed the change in his posture and jerked her hand back. She looked at her daughter quickly, but Inej could see the hurt and confusion in her eyes even if it was just for a second.

“It’s not you, Mama.” She rushed to explain for Kaz. His eyes had dropped to the plate resting on his lap.

“I told you that our life in Ketterdam wasn’t easy.” She tried to find a way of explaining without revealing too much of Kaz’s past. “He isn’t used to people touching him unless they’re trying to hurt him. Give him time, Mama.” That part was at least true.

Her mother nodded, looking apologetic but no less confused. This time she was looking at the visible scars along Inej’s arms. Her cousin’s outfit didn’t hide them the way her earlier outfit had.

Hanzi, who was watching the whole exchange from across the tent, spoke out. “What was it like, Nej? In Ketterdam?”

His father, Chaacha Jilé, used a serving spoon to give him a hard tap on the head. “Hanzi!”

“What? We were all thinking it!”

His father shook his head. “You know better than to ask that kind of question.”

“It’s okay.” Inej cut in before her uncle could use the spoon again. “Hanzi is right. You all want to know what happened. I don’t blame you.”

“See!” Hanzi pointed a vindicated finger towards Inej.

“Hush!” His father waved the spoon in front of his son.

She bit back a smile and continued. Inej looked at Kaz. His rigid spine loosened a bit, but he still looked a bit on edge. “I’m going to tell them.”

A small smile tugged on his mouth. “You know I support whatever decision you make.”

It was all the encouragement she needed. “Mama, Papa, you may want to sit down. It’s a long story and most of it isn’t pleasant.”

Her mother worriedly sat beside her. Her father put an arm around her shoulders, physically supporting his wife in the same way Kaz had just supported her.

“I was taken by slavers. They broke in and took me just as the sun had started to rise. They brought me to Ketterdam, where I was sold to a heartless woman who made me do unspeakable things for terrible men. Kaz worked for a group of young men trying to build a new business and went to meet with the woman at the request of his boss. I realized I could escape with his help, so I offered him my skills as an acrobat. He agreed to employ me legally and without having to do any of the things that I was doing there. He taught me how to defend myself. I worked as his spy and I was good at it.

“Ketterdam… it can be an ugly place that brings the ugliness out of even the best people. I’ve done things I pray the Saints will one day forgive me for; but I’m not the same girl I was when I was taken. If I was, I don’t think I would have made it through the first night in that city. I will never be that girl again, no matter how hard I try. And I’m sorry if that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth.

“I was able to eventually afford a ship and a crew to run it. Now, I'm the captain of a crew of people dedicated to keeping other people from having to go through what I went through. I hope that the work I do at sea can help weaken any shadows I have created during my years in Ketterdam.”

Inej had, of course, changed a few details in her story. There was no way she was going to tell her entire family that the “business” Kaz was running was actually a deadly street gang. She was also never going to explain to them exactly how good at her job she had gotten. They would never understand the things she had done. In fact, if they could see the crimson stains on her hands, they’d probably be so repulsed that they would kick her out on the spot.

Her mother was crying again. Her father looked heartbroken as if all of his worst fears had come true.

“Inej…” Adja spoke first. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Inej was surprised to realize that she wasn’t in tears as she feared she would have been. “It’s not your fault.” She looked at her parents, realizing that they must have carried some guilt with her disappearance just as she carried the shame of the things she had done.

“Nor is it yours. We couldn’t have known those slavers were going to break into our home. You two did everything you were supposed to. When things were at their worst, I could hear your voices teaching me how to pray to the Saints. I was able to survive so long because I always carried the hope you taught me to hold on to. The hope that I would one day return to you.”

Her father looked furiously stubborn as he said, “And you have. You are home, Inej. That’s all that matters. We don’t care what you had to do to get here. As long as you are here with us again.”

“The Saints don’t punish actions done to survive.” Her mother agreed. “You don’t need to ask them or us for forgiveness. Forgiveness is earned, Inej, and you have been through more than enough to deserve it. We know you. We know you have a good heart. We love who you are now because it brought you back to us.”

“You will always be our esfir.” Her father held his daughter's trembling hands.

Those words were like the first bite of bread after a year long fast. Inej hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear them, or how much it would mean to hear them from her parents. Her father’s touch didn’t wipe away any of the blood on her hands nor did it take away the dark memories she would always carry. But it did make her feel hopeful for the future. For so long she feared that she could never return home; she feared her family would reject the woman she was sharpened into. Her parents didn’t look like they were ready to throw her out. In fact, they looked like they were ready to hold her tighter than ever.

“Wait a second,” Hanzi once again drew all the attention in the room back to him. “You said you were a spy and now a ship captain?”

Inej wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “Yes.”

“And that Ka-s...runs a business?”

“Yes, Hanzi.”

He looked suspiciously between Kaz and Inej. Then at the leather gloves and silver crow’s head of his cane. His jaw dropped. “Inej, you’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?”

She bit her lip, unsure of how to answer.

“He knows, doesn’t he?” Kaz’s gravelly voice was full of pride at being recognized.

“Don’t look so smug. I don’t think he recognized you until I said that I was a ship captain.”

“INEJ!”

She turned back to Hanzi. He was almost buzzing with excitement to hear her answer. “Are you who I think you are? Is he who I think he is?”

Her mother narrowed her eyes at her nephew.“Inej is whoever she wants to be. As for Ka-s, he’s Inej’s...”

Inej looked to Kaz for the answer. They had never felt the need to use a word to explain their relationship. Everyone on their tiny stretch of an island knew better than to question Dirtyhands or the Wraith. Their friends didn’t need an explanation. What she shared with Kaz went deeper than anything she could describe.

“What?”

“They want to know what you are to me.”

“Then tell them.”

“What do you want me to tell them?”

“What do you want to tell them?”

“That you’re the person I love most in this world.”

His smile was blinding. “I’m more than okay with that answer.”

“Kaz is my heart.”

Adja cooed, clutching her heart. Her mother looked approvingly at Kaz. Her father looked relieved by the answer. Hanzi still looked unsatisfied by it.

“Why are you all just staring at us? Let’s eat!” She mimicked her father’s earlier remark. The silence was once again filled with her family’s celebratory cheers.

“Thank you for coming with me. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Kaz looked smug. “I love you.”

Inej smiled, looking around the circle of happiness brought together by a bond that went deeper than blood. “I love you, too.”

A/N Pt 2: Hi hello! If you happened to have read this before January 2, 2020 then you might remember that there used to be a long paragraph at the end of this fic where I acknowledged all of the cultures that I read about as inspiration to flesh out the Suli culture in this fic. Welp, because Tumblr enjoys to make life difficult, it actually decided to erase the entirety of this fic, leaving only the title. Why? I have no idea!!!! But that means I had to do everything and luckily I had all of the fic saved except for this second A/N bc I added it in right before uploading. While I’m incredibly annoyed by Tumblr glitch and am not able to fully write the original acknowledgment, I still want to give add a smaller version of the previous one.

All of cultures I drew from for this fic can be found listed here. The Suli language was a modified mixture of Hindi and Punjabi. The foods are mostly Romani in origin. The names are a mixture of Turkish, Hindi, Romani, and Slavic names. The clothing have all been specifically named. The head piece Inej wore was directly inspired by a South Asian maang tikka however out of respect for this real cultural practice, I changed the name/origin for the fic. Any parables/customs/religious beliefs explained in the fic are completely fictional that were either pulled directly from the SOC series or made up for this fic. Any connection/similarities to real cultural practices are completely coincidental unless I specifically said so. I believe that was everything important that I had in the original acknowledgment. I’m so sorry if anything was left out. If you do feel that I forgot to mention anything in this rewritten version, please let me know and I’ll do my best to fix it immediately! 

[bazz-b]

The Flaming Sword of Eden

This might come as a shock, but I’ve been thinking about Bazz-B. You may have heard of him? Bazzard Black. The Heat. Rooster King 420. He’s a pretty big deal, beautiful mohawk and a penchant for getting into trouble. I hate him and love him and I’d like to discuss some feelings I’ve been having about him.

Specifically, one of his abilities.

Now, I love fight threads. I thrive off fight threads. Back in the day I used to plot out all sorts of fight threads as different muses, where more often than not I was on the losing team. (Highlights included Harribel, Starrk (without Lilynette) and Ulquiorra (without Segunda Etapa) teaming up against King Baraggan Louisenbairn) 

But the scope of Bazz-B’s powers are hard to grasp. Obviously he kicked Captain Weenie’s butt, however Frosty the Snowman was without his Bankai. Not exactly operating at optimal strength. So we know the Burner Finger 1 and 2 are impressive, but there’s not a lot to gauge them against. Candice, Liltotto, Giselle and Meninas got back up after taking a hit from Burner Finger 1, yet it obliterated Izuru from the get go. Anyway, the specific power I want to address isn’t in those fights, I just like bringing up that one time Bazz-B owned Toshiro and fingered his allies.

Ahem.

Burner Finger 4

Here are my feelings: Bazz-B’s powers increase with the number of fingers we see him use. Burner Finger 1 is an opening volley, it’s fast hitting, it’s old reliable. A single, puncturing jet of flame, like a sniper shot. My boy’s still an archer at heart. Burner Finger 2 is a swiping motion, two streams of fire used to slash through the enemy. This maintains the power of Burner Finger 1, but now it covers a wider range. It’s more destructive. Burner Finger 3 is lava. Guys, it’s lava. We can address that in a separate post, but that’s the current escalation levels.

So, once we reach Burner Finger 4, things are getting heated. We’re not even going for range any more, this attack packs such a punch that we need to get closer. It’s condensed reishi mingling with his fiery reiryoku to make a literal Sword of Eden. We don’t get to see it connect on any poor saps, sadly, but we get a representation of the threat it poses.

Freeze frame, enhance, prepare popcorn.

I’m not 100% sure of the structural integrity of Wahrwelt given that it was crafted by stinky, stinky, butt-man Yhwach, but I’d wager a building/pillar of that size should offer some resistance. Yet Burner Finger 4 (henceforth referred to as BF4) sliced through it like butter, while barely coming into contact with it. Hell, even our boy Jugo decided it’d be prudent to HOP this attack, instead of blocking, parrying, blut vene-ing or balancing (I don’t know your verbs Jugo hit me up). Jugo measured the destructive force of this attack and decided, “I’d rather not take part in that.”

The next image may be upsetting to Bazz-B fans.

Hurts me every damn time.

We’ll continue to address the power behind BF4 in a moment, but first let me draw your attention towards the design of the sword. It should be familiar by now to anyone who loves the Quincy, but for the rest of you heathens let me draw some comparisons for you.

It’s the same cross from the central pillar in Kirchenlied: Sankt Zwinger. Not quite the slimmer Zeichen used by Quincy typically unaffiliated with the Wandenreich (by my understanding) nor the emblazoned variant on Wandenenreich paraphernalia (it has fatter tips, y’all know which one I mean). Even Yhwach’s reishi broadsword doesn’t have the jagged ends at the tips of his crossguard. BF4′s design mimics the design in one of the most powerful Quincy spells.

Now, the key difference here is that the purpose of Sankt Zwinger is defense. “The spell of maximum protection among the Quincy techniques of offense and defense!!” Thanks for that Yhwach, played by Royd Lloyd. Bazz-B reflects the design of Sankt Zwinger on his BF4, and I think this is reflective of the claim he’s assigning the blade. The metaphorical and physical Flaming Sword, posted outside the Gates of Paradise after Adam and Eve were banished (Genesis 3:24). 

It’s a declaration that this attack will rival Sankt Zwinger’s potency, but in terms of offense. It’s a countermeasure, a means to fight not just any God, but the Quincy God. For those cast out of Paradise, a Flaming Sword.

At the very least it’s a sick motif for an Archangel to fight back.

Goodbye noodle hand of doom.

BF4 retains its potency even after being severed from his body. This attack cut an entire building in half, with all the force of a flung limb. I don’t want to be dramatic (I 100% do want to be dramatic) but we’ve seen this landscape rending power before. In another bout of Deicide..

That’s a spicy God fight

I’m risking rambling now, but as we never got to see BF4 live up to it’s full potential in a drawn out fight, I can only speculate it’s power, and headcanon it’s existence. All of Bazz-B’s attacks function at range, even his Burner Full Fingers (don’t get me started on that mess) is a ranged attack. To suddenly include a Flaming Sword seems kinda off brand my dude.

Thank you for listening to my Ted Talk. Your regularly scheduled Rooster Shenanigans will now resume.

[usedtoberoselol-blog]

me rambling about random things I do and don't love, miss..

Hi I'm Rose, I love red. I love the sun on my skin and I love the feeling of being free. I love walking down the beach alone and the sound of waves crashing but I do also love wooden cottages in the middle of a forrest. I love the feeling of physical touch. I love working on myself. I love eating food I like and feeling better day by day. I love my dog and I love my family. I love my dad and I hate fighting with my mum. I love my grandparents and I love my aunt and uncle. I love Mia and Angie. I love my friends and I love spending time with them. I love traveling. I love the feeling of belonging and home. I love music. I love clothes that I feel comfortable in. The feeling of being clean and pampered, the feeling when I do something good and when I make someone feel proud of me. Feeling when someone cares about me. I love watching my favorite TV shows. I love taking care of myself and seeing myself happy in the mirror. I love feeling hot in a dress and high heels. I love being told that I looked beautiful. I love other people looking at me. I love seeing people i love happy and I love to make them happy. I love feeling nice in the morning, i love the taste of my coffee. I love the feeling of accomplishment and being proud of myself. I love being blunt and honest. I love being wild and free. I love the feeling of being loved. I don't depend on anyone else. I don't like commitment. I don't like bonding with people that I am not sure will stay. I love familiar things but I also love discovering new and unknown. I love fresh air in the morning and morning lightning. I love sun so much. I love my brows being on point. I love nice bronzed complexion and a touch of highlighter. I love huge salads. I love smell of vanilla. I love blood red color. I love clean white sheets. I love Christmas time. I love presents and surprises. I love black leather jacket. I love to go shopping and I love new stuff. I love being close to Freiya. I love animals. I love fresh sunflowers. I love the feel of cold water on my hands. I love my Amber crystal that I always carry with me. I love those exciting conversations with a person that shares my interests and attitude towards something. I love when I smash a workout. I love living alone. I love clear blue sky. I love arguing about the things I'm passionate about. I love new shoes. I love the way I am. I love that I'm brave, independent, strong-willed. I love to fight for the things I love. I love the feeling of my dog beside me when I sleep. I like not feeling alone. I like feeling anything but emptiness and dullness inside. I love feeling comfortable. I love that I'm ambitious. I would love to fall in love. I do and don't love my birthday at the same time. I love new beginnings. I love to lock my door. I love black and white photos. I love long dark brown hair. I love hazel eyes. I love fit and skinny. I love living without eating disorder. I love positivity. I love listening to the same song over and over again. I love my favorite songs. I love flirting with boys. I love warm hugs. I love when my hair is all nice. I love my Lonely Hearts Club. I love being best at something I love. I love sports. I love black workout gear. I love Nikes. I love when my nails are short and polished. I love when my skin is clear. I love to be the best version of myself. I love being talked about. I love history. I love that I'm smart and intelligent. I love feeling productive and worth. I hate toxic people. I love when things make sense. I love French Riviera. I love Sankt Peterburg. I love Italian vineyards. I love Alps. I love to ski. I love airports. I love my passport. I love my air dried hair. I love Australia. I love watching tv shows about animals. I love having a nice instagram feed. I love to wear my pajamas everywhere besides to bed. I love my pink hello kitty pajamas that are god knows how old. I love my ripped black backpack. I love using the same perfume over the years. I love being recognized by it. I love to wake up to clean and collected bedroom. I love to set my alarm to non-round numbers, for example 6:32am. I love when my battery lasts my whole day because I don't use my phone much. I love the smell of my blanket and my new-moon shaped pillow. I love my dog way too much. I love rereading my favorite book. I don't like reading other books that much. I love knowing something but have no idea how. I love being out partying late late. I love lions and wolves. I love fire. I love neck tattoos and belly piercings. I love Dean Winchester and Rose Hathaway. I love being active. I love ballet. I love ticking of an accomplished goal. I love hiking. I love being challenged. I love changing. I love Ben Barnes. I love black dresses. Imiss my dad. I love feeling strong. I love to talk with intelligent people. I love overcoming things. I hate forgiving myself for the things i should not have done, it kind of makes things okay when the aren't. I miss summer. I love taking my vitamins. I love the thought that I am a warrior. I hate not happy endings. I love my fave quote "She wears strength and darkness equally well, the girl has always been half goddess, half hell." I love that there is a possibility for me to go study abroad. I love nice black high heels. I love feeling like a badass. I love that I have parents being the way they are. I hate that they are divorced. I love my childhood. I believe that everything happens for a reason. I love satin dresses. I love the way Phoebe Tonkin looks. I hate when I feel like I need someone. I love sweet child o' mine by guns n roses. I hate forgetting. I love when I don't give up. I love Supernatural and Grey's Anatomy. I love cheekbones. I love nice photos. I love simple food. I love drinking lots of water. I love man buns. I would love to learn how to fight (boxing or krav maga). I love when I know why is something happening to my body. I love number 64 for some odd reason. I hate when memories fade. I love disney movies. I love almond milk. I love opened window while I'm sleeping. I miss my childhood home. I love photo albums. I love to sit in bathroom floor of empty bath. I love either boiling hot or ice cold water. I love fuzzy socks. I love spring. I hate crying and feeling weak. I hate following the pattern. I hate obsessing over celebrities and people doing that. I love Narnia. I love apple pie. I hate being sick. I miss volleyball. I miss dog that I grew up with, Fluffy. I am grateful for all the chances I have ever had. I'm proud of all the choices I made, whether they were good or not. They made me the person I am today, and I am proud of myself.

[dummerjan]

@all-these-pieces Danke! :) I don’t like tagging others myself but I like to ramble about myself so thanks for the oppurtinity ;)

Name: Paula Katharina (the latter of which I only ever use in adresses or official documents - noone ever called me that nor do I identify with that name outside of written form, but I am very fond of it nevertheless)

Nickname: Paulchen (Panther) though rarely used and only by my parents

Gender: trans as in I don’t identify as female/woman but definitely outside of the gender binary but otherwise have no idea and stopped giving any fucks to figure out a more specific label

Star sign: Capricorn

Sexual Orientation: queer probaly on the asexual spectrum - I like whoever I like in whatever unidentifiable way I do (relationship anarchy!) at least in theory since I never meet people and therefore have no relationships of anykind whatsoever but whatever or whoever it is I might potentially like in the future it will most definitely be very, very queer

Hogwarts House: after more than four years on tumblr I still have no idea what that really means except that there are really passionate discussion about fictional characters and their Hogwarts House, I only ever read the first few pages of the English-language editon of the first book of Harry Potter at a time where my English was rather modest

Favourite colour: (marine) blue

Favourite animal: dogs though I do have some strong feelinsg about chimpanzees as well thanks to Jane Goodall and rats are totally underrated and the sweetest beings to have ever been sweet

Time right now: 23:48

Average hours of sleep: 6-8 no idea really I don’t have a set wake up time

Cat or dog person: dog but since last summer I have become increasingly obsessed with cats though I got lucky because one of our dogs is rather cat-like

Favourite fictional characters: where do I even start? Aaron Livesy (or is it Dingles now?), I’ve got way too many conflicted feelings about both Brendan Brady and Hannibal Lecter, Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale are everything, Captain Jack Harkness makes me scream, Monk makes me cry, Rose, Martha and Donna are incredible but I am also quite fond of several children’s books characters though not in the same fandom obsessed way (and dozens upon dozens more)

Number of blankets I sleep with: 1

Favourite singer/band: maybe if I really had to settle on merely one it might possibly be Juanes, but let’s go with a non-exhaustive but very diverse list of five: Juanes, Against Me!, One Direction, Herman van Veen, Sinéad O’Connor

Dream Trip Trips: I definitely wanna go back to Ireland but other than that: Colombia, Scotland, Northern England, Sweden, Israel, Swiss Alps, I’d really like to go to Poland one day, preferably Toruń because that’s where my great-grandmother was born and, even though I don’t see myself ever going unless the political climate drastically changes and who knows when that will be, Russia, especially Sankt Peterburg during the White Nights

Dream Job: something with languages like translation or editing

When was this blog created: late 2012 (why didn’t tumblr send me one of those nice blog birthday mails?!)

When did your blog reach its peak? if there has ever been one it has long passed but noone really needs to see that mess here, right? it’s mainly for myself so yeah...

What made you decide to get a tumblr? this guy i knew from this fanfiction site told me about it and sent me links to some lesbian/queer themed tumblrs (oh, how tumblr has changed) and at some point I got tired of going to the blogs individually so I signed up (still regretting it - kinda)

[sankt-julius]

Tonight I met David Lynch in my dreams. His appearance in my dream seemed strange. I felt like he was the dreamer and that he accidentally stumbled into my dream because he seemed confused and was just about to leave my dream. I asked him if he's going to produce a fourth season of Twin Peaks on which he happily replied:

"Hell yeah of course there's going to be a fourth season!"

Afterwards I took a selfie with him but, due to the unfortunate barrier between the world of dreams and our reality, the photo didn't appear on my phone (Believe me I checked it).

[sankt-julius]

My butler gives me handjob but my antibutler immediately injects the cum back into my balls and replaces the feeling of pleasure and relieve with agony and pain :/

[sankt-julius]

I love Sam so much and I entered the Atypical tag to see some neat Sam centered content, only to find out that seemingly the entirety of Tumblr is in love with Casey's and Izzy's unhealthy relationship. Izzy has such a toxic personality. It just baffles me that y'all celebrate this.