#source: @kaz-brekker-is-king

[i-only-see-daylight]

Nina: Time is money; Money is power; Power is waffle; Waffle is knowledge.

[the-shadow-master]

Kaz: It’s dark in here.

Jesper: Don’t worry, dude, I got this.

Jesper: *Stomps his feet*

Jesper: *Skechers light up*

[aphroditestummyrolls]

Keep You Safe snippet, just because I feel like it ❤️ G’bless

“So— which window was it? I left a few open for you.” Jesper grinned, appearing endlessly pleased with himself. The only evidence of his exhaustion was in his eyes, hidden by the bright smile and easy way he leaned against the counter.

Saints, he loved him. He loved him and he envied him and he worried about him. Wylan didn’t know how Jesper managed it. He hid it all in plain sight.

He didn’t need to look at Inej to know she saw right through them both. He could picture the way she arched her brow in his mind’s eye. But, he was grateful that she didn’t bring it up.

“None— as much as I appreciated it.” She looked comfortable, natural, perched on their kitchen island. It gave Wylan a little boost of hope for the trajectory of the evening. The people coming tonight were their friends— they already fit into each other’s lives. Why would they not fit in here?

“Does nobody use the front door anymore?” Colm half-begged, still clutching his heart.

“As a matter of fact, I did.” She smirked, “Kaz left it unlocked for me when he arrived.”

Wylan could only roll his eyes. Of course, Kaz Brekker couldn’t resist a lock to pick. Why knock when you’re King of the Barrel? You can go anywhere you want.

Jes sighed, but there was no anger behind it. He had expected it— when he shared a glance with Wylan, he knew they both had. The pot on the stove simmered behind him. “We ought to get a pack of hounds.” He joked.

Wylan just crossed his arms, tucking a little mischief into the slant of his smile. “I have it on good authority that the break in is the best part.”

It was worth it, as always, for the sparkle of the memory in his smile, and the sunny little wink he was met with.

“Your friends just break into your house?”

Wylan couldn’t help the bubble of a laugh that burst past his lips. Maybe it was the nearly delirious pull of tiredness in his bones, or the anxiety and excitement of the evening, or the reminder from an outside source that, truly, his life had become a strange place. A strange, wonderful place. When he spared a glance at Inej, though, she wasn’t quite laughing along.

The air around her was just the slightest bit frosty. It reminded him of the Ice Court, and those moments in the Fold before going to find Alina— she was analyzing the situation, staying prepared. Those sharp eyes looked over Colm discerningly, flicking to Jesper every so often. Checking in.

Wylan was under no false impressions that Kaz and their friends had simply let them disappear for three days after their first interaction with Colm Fahey. He knew that there must have been a spider in the hedgerows under the window, or a heartrender tracking their beats per minute every once in a while. For all he knew, Kaz had been camped out here for days, ensuring they weren’t in danger.

Which was a lot of effort, considering that Kaz knew full well that Colm was harmless.

It was just how he was, he supposed— making contingency plans.

A soft glow of affectionate warmth kindled in Wylan’s chest.

“Well,” Jes hummed, and even as he made a show as the long-suffering second, Wylan knew he was feeling the same tenderness. His eyes gave him away, always “there’s no sense in his lurking any longer— might as well come down for a glass of something fun.”

[star-trek-shallot]

Bones: How do you feel about kids?

Spock: I mean they're okay? If I saw one, I wouldn't throw a rock at it.

Bones: ...Why would you throw a rock at a child?

Spock: ...I just said I wouldn't.

[lily-chen-supremacy]

nikolai and inej: you two remind us of the ocean

kaz and zoya: why? because we’re deep and mysterious?

nikolai: no, because you’re salty-

inej: and you scare people

[grishaverseshitposts]

Kaz: I don't feel good about you out there alone, Inej. It could be very dangerous.

Inej: Yeah, but you forget I have skills you'll never have.

Kaz: Such as?

Inej: For one, people don't immediately hate me or want to kill me upon first meeting me.

[incorrect-ravka-quotes]

Kaz: Rich people should get robbed at least once a week.

Nikolai: Why?

Kaz: Builds character.

[hummushummingbird]

Some of you will die, but that is a sacrifice I'm willing to take.

Kaz Brekker, basically all the time

[brekkfast]

Kaz: rich people should get robbed at least once a week

Inej: why?

Kaz: *shrugs* builds character

[dregstrash]

let me save you (1/2)

a/n: i have not posted in so long, but i am excited to be an addition to “inej saves kaz” trope. @grishaversebigbang 

Materialki: @kingdombrekker (check out the art!), @polekands​ (check out the art!) 

Summary: Inej knows Kaz Brekker better than anyone, that makes her the perfect person to rescue him. 

Ao3

Kaz was someone who prided himself in knowing better. He was the self-proclaimed king of the Barrel. He had dozens of merchers in his pockets. He faced down the Council of Tides. He was untouchable.

Until he wasn’t.

Until the night that he had planned a particularly complicated heist that had him barely escaping with his life and leading into a fight with a few stray Razorgulls. Kaz hobbled his way back to the Slat and half-dragged his body up the three flights of the stairs to his room. His window was open–a weakness that was built on the hope of the one girl who’d be able to make the climb–and as he breathed in the thick and humid night air, his whole world tilted sideways.

A blunt pain came from behind and as he toppled over and his instinct to fight started to twist and throw his own punch, a small prick entered his neck and the room began to blur.

Drugged. Beaten. Exhausted.

Kaz felt arms grab him and the last thing he remembered was the bitter laugh that escaped his lips. The garbled words of his attackers hovered over him, but all Kaz had the energy for was to laugh. Because Kaz Brekker, the most feared man in all of Ketterdam, was getting kidnapped in his own home and no one would ever be witness to it.

//

Inej knew something was wrong. It was a familiar feeling that crept up from the spine and ended up as a buzzing sensation in her head.

It was the signal before a terrible storm. The sinking feeling that a shadow had the weight and smell of a man who thought he could sneak up on her. The half second before she ducked into the darkness before a guard caught her in some mercher’s study.

Ever since she started working with Kaz. She grew acquainted with the taste of something that wasn’t quite right. And just like she always did, she went to Kaz’s office–because if she was sure of anything, she was sure that if something was wrong Kaz Brekker was usually the source of it.

She moved along the window sill of the Slat and the sounds of the various members of the Dregs getting ready for the evening drifted up to her spot. It’s been a few years since she shed the crow feathers and took to the seas, and she hasn’t regretted a single moment away from this overcrowded, noisy home. But she fondly remembers the feeling of Jesper’s arm around her shoulder as he lamented over another bad hand. She could see the cracks of the wood where she peered through Per Haskell’s office and kept an eye on Kaz as he lied to their very incompetent leader. She could taste the bitter coffee that slid down her throat in chunks as she drank as fast as she could before she left to go with Kaz to case a new mercher.

The Slat was a house of old memories, and while she didn’t miss it, she did miss the small comforts it offered.

She finally reached Kaz’s window and slipped through the open window. Her feet touched the squeaking floorboards and all at once the nostalgia that hung thickly around the night shattered.

She walked over to his desk. The items resting on top in order.

Kaz had always been one for neatness, but a neatness that usually had order. The numbers for the Crow Club would be on top of the stack, then it would be the stock numbers that kept track of Ketterdam’s most lucrative businesses right under that. Tucked further into it would be dozens of tips, rumors, speculations pouring in from any of the Spiders that he had watching the streets.

For such a mysterious man, Kaz Brekker was surprisingly predictable–if one knew where to look for his patterns. And Inej knew where to look. She had unknowingly memorized the small ticks and the unbidden habits that formed Dirtyhands.

She knew how he liked his coffee. She knew the exact gait that would tell her if he was injured or just feeling the chronic pain in his leg. She knew how he liked his files kept, how long he kept candles burning, and exactly how he liked his room arranged.

It was for that reason alone that the feeling of wrongness suddenly had a face.

As she rifled through the sheets of paper, they were all out of order. Some were torn and ripped and others crumpled and then made to look smooth again. She eyed the rest of the things on his desk and found much of the same. The order that would communicate to any one else that nothing was amiss. But Inej wasn’t just anyone.

//

“Roeder, where’s Kaz?” Inej said. She ignored the jump the other boy gave at the sound of her voice. She wasn’t panicking. She didn’t have enough evidence to panic. She just needed to find Kaz.

The boy coughed to try and cover up his surprise, “He ain’t up in his room?”

Inej’s eyebrows raised, “Did you see him go up there?”

He shrugged, “If he ain’t at the Crow Club or the Harbor he’s usually there.”

“You haven’t seen him in either place?” Inej forced her jaw to relax. She wasn’t going to panic.

Another shrug.

“Boss disappears sometimes. The only one that ever knew if he was here was you.”

“You're supposed to be the eyes and ears of this city, Roeder. How would you not know?” The edge started to creep in on Inej’s voice.

Roeder fidgeted a little, “I–I don’t keep an eye on him, Inej. That’s suicide. He said that he had business in Third Harbor a couple of days ago and had me stake out the place.” He rubbed his neck. “Kaz asked what had been going on and I said nothing and he told me to take my shift at the Club. I haven’t seen him since I left that night.”

Not at the Crow Club or the Harbor?

That was odd.

Inej glanced at the clock in the corner of the room hanging sadly over the variety of Dregs who were sleeping off hangovers or drinking enough to incur one eventually.

It was half past eleven. He had to be there.

Inej tapped her fingers against her knives, and turned to Roeder once more.

“Let me know if you see him, or if anyone else thinks they’ve seen him.”

The young man rolled his eyes, “Since when did I work for you?”

In the space of a breath one of Inej’s knives was at his throat. The energy in the room stilled for the briefest of moments. From the corner of her eye, Inej saw some of the older Dregs hold onto the younger hot-headed members. A silent warning that there was a history that they have yet to learn.

After another moment, Inej dropped the knife and then pressed some Kruge into his shirt pocket.

“Now you do. Get going.”

Inej didn’t wait to see if Kaz’s Spider would listen to her. This was Ketterdam after all. Kruge was Kruge, no matter where it came from.

//

“Inej! I didn’t think you were coming until tomorrow!” Jesper exclaimed as he wrapped Inej in a warm hug.

Despite the tension that had started to spread to her entire body, she managed a laugh.

“I arrived last night. I could have come today if I wanted to.”

Jesper pulled back and moved his hug to his arm slung across her shoulders as he led Inej inside his home.

“Oh, c’mon Inej. Don’t pretend like you don’t spend an entire day with a certain Barrel Boss before gracing us–your actual friends–with your presence.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks, but before she could defend herself, Wylan ambled down the staircase with smudge marks across his pale cheeks.

“Inej!” He landed on the bottom step and Inej smiled at the red headed boy and gave him a hug. “I wasn’t expecting–”

She waved a hand, “Yes, yes. You weren’t expecting me until tomorrow. Although I find it insulting that you would think anyone would be more important than you two.”

Inej watched as the two boys gave each other knowing looks, “Right. Kaz always did say you weren’t much of a liar.”

“Do you want some tea?” Wylan interjected quickly.

“Yes, that would be lovely.” Inej said, choosing to ignore the slight teasing smile Wylan gave her.

As they walked to the main dining hall. Inej watched as Jesper and Wylan took turns telling her everything that had transpired and despite the fact that she knew that it was at her expense. She felt a certain warmness spread through the cold that had seeped through her bones since the morning.

“–At that point Kaz had basically barged in my study and looked through all my father’s old records looking for something.” Wylan said as he placed a teacup in front of Inej.

Her eyes snapped up to him, and barely restrained the panic in her voice before asking, “You saw Kaz yesterday?”

Wylan looked at her over the rim of his glass with some concern, “You–you haven’t seen him, yet?”

She waved her hand, “Kaz. You saw him yesterday?”

“No. This was a few days ago.” Jesper answered instead, “He’s not much of a regular visitor. Wait. Inej, you haven’t seen him?”

Inej reached for her teacup, but fiddled with the handle. The tea sloshed gently in its cup, as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“Roeder hasn’t seen him in a while. He hasn’t shown up at the harbor or the Crow Club at all. And–” She paused, weighing the words that she was about to admit to her friends. “His–his office was broken into.”

The stillness that settled over the three former Dregs members was all encompassing. Wylan and Jesper’s mouths hung open. Their eyes widened in surprise. And all this time Inej felt the utter wrongness of admitting that Kaz’s office had been broken in to wash over her.

“How do you know for sure?” Jesper said after a moment. “I mean. This is Kaz. His office has never been exactly neat. And maybe the wind knocked over some papers and–and–”

“I know, Jes.” Inej sighed. “I just know that his office was broken into, and no one has seen him.”

“Maybe he’s hunting down the intruders?” Wylan guessed, “If his office was broken into, wouldn’t he be the first person to look for them?”

“Without the Dregs getting any orders from him?” Inej countered. “If Kaz had suspected anything, he would have at least let Roeder keep watch over the Slat. But there has been no trace.”

She had thought about that on her way to the Van Eck Mansion. Kaz would have never told the Dregs that the Slat would have been breached, but he would have sent them hunting.

When things go wrong in the Barrel, it’s better to know about it and pretend it was the plan rather than play catch up, Inej.

Wylan’s pointer finger tapped a steady rhythm against the heavy oak table, while Jesper started to pace up and down the length of the room.

It wasn’t unusual for the three of them to worry over Kaz. But for the first time, Kaz wasn’t there to dispel their anxiety. His rough voice wasn’t there to mock, tease, or get annoyed at their yammering.

“The tough thing is, Kaz could be anywhere, be anyone, and not be found. The man disappears without a trace, and if he doesn’t want to be found then he won’t.” Jesper said as he started to fidget with the guns at his hips. “But it sounds like you are pretty sure that he would have at least left some trace. So does that mean that Kaz was kidnapped? Can Kaz be kidnapped? Isn’t that some sort of sin? Or some work of a saint?”

Inej shook her head. It had to be impossible. None of Kaz’s enemies were stupid enough to try and kidnap Kaz. Not only would they have to survive the encounter, they would have had to try to subdue him.

“Would any of you know the gang movements around the Barrel these days? Maybe one of them has a clue.” Inej suddenly asked.

Wylan raised an eyebrow, “You want to talk to enemy gang members to ask about Kaz? Is that a good idea?”

Inej didn’t have time for good ideas. She just needed a lead.

Wylan gave enough room for Inej to contradict her idea, but after a brief silence he sighed. “Kaz had made some investments in my name that bet against some of the establishments that are being protected by the Razorgulls. In the last couple of weeks those businesses have taken some hits with their imported goods, and have begun wracking a lot of debt.”

“And making us a butt load of money.” Jesper said under his breath.

Wylan gave his boyfriend a cutting look, but continued, “Last I heard they were making some more noise around some of the Dregs territory. I’d start there.”

Inej sighed then got up. “Thank you. For the tea. And for the hint. I should go.”

She was almost to the door of the dining room before Jesper called out to her, “You’ll let us know when you find him, right? Let us know that he’s okay?”

Inej looked back and offered a smile,  “Of course. Besides, when has Kaz ever been in a scrape he couldn’t get out of?”

//

The onslaught of cold water jolted Kaz out of the drugged stupor that had his whole world go in and out. His mind shattered as he couldn’t move from where he was. He was trapped under the tide of cold water, and he wanted to breathe. He had to breathe.

He coughed and gasped, while distantly he could hear the warbled sound of laughter.

“This is the Bastard of the Barrel?”

“He ain’t worth shit.”

“Boss is coming! Put him back under! Dry him up! He ain’t use to us dead from the cold.”

There was a shuffling of feet, and Kaz’s teeth were starting to clatter together as a strong shudder went through his body. He needed to take stock of the room. He needed the details. He wanted to see how many people he needed to take down or the kind of material that was binding his legs to the heavy metal chair under him. He had to plan. To do something.

“I–I’m going to-to k-kill–” He started to say. But then he felt a prick enter his neck once more and the cold that was starting to numb his chest was replaced again with the blackness.

[the-shadow-master]

Nina: Do you take constructive criticism?

Kaz: I only take cash or credit.

[introvertedwraith]

to fix you

Ketterdam is never quiet.

Neither is one Kaz Brekker’s mind, constantly analyzing and scheming and finding ways to create beneficial chaos.

It’s been a year since Pekka Rollins fled to the outer corners of Kerch for some unidentifiable reason in a hurry, and kruge has been pooling quite nicely for the Dregs. According to a certain source, Pekka has withdrawn all of his plans and funds concerning slavers on the sea, and Kaz’s mouth quirks at the news.

The certain source is sitting on his desk in the meantime, eyes bright as she mentions how she’d taken care of the slave ships anyway.

“You’ve been busy, Wraith,” Kaz comments as Inej lists all of the illegal slavers she’d taken down.

“That’s Captain Ghafa to you, Kaz,” Inej teases.

The window of his office is open, and a breeze rustles the papers on his desk. The Dregs are thriving, but that also means more work, hence the piles of unfinished paperwork and scraps of information from his sources.

He listens to her for a while before he takes his gloves off, pushing them into his pocket while she’s distracted. She never sees him take them off, but he knows she notices how his hands are bare now.

He’s trying; she’s trying. He reaches for her hand, and she gladly takes it. The warmth is comforting now, but hand-holding is about the only thing they’ve accomplished so far.

When Inej runs out of things to recount, they sit there in silence, admiring the sunset over the foggy sky of Ketterdam. Far from perfection, but home without a doubt.

After a while, he breaks the silence.

“Could I try to hold you?” He asks, and the words sound absurd in his mouth- that Dirtyhands, the bastard of the Barrel, the cruelly apathetic leader of the Dregs, could convey such emotion- but Inej only nods, a sort of fragile half-smile present on her face. Kaz knows he would spill the blood of so-called saints and kings to catch a glimpse of a full smile.

The breath he draws in is quiet, calculated so that Inej does not hear proof of his nervousness.

Her eyes are darker than the smoke of the factories near Reaper’s Barge, her bronze complexion seeming to glow in the light of the setting sun. He sees her fingers absentmindedly dance over the tip of her braid.

Lying, thieving scum, the fearless call him. A demon reincarnated from the very bottom of hell, the foolish say. But as he takes slow, measured steps towards Inej, he doesn’t feel like any of those things. He feels like a flustered teenage boy, not quite yet a man, staring at something more beauteous than he had ever seen amidst the chaos of the Barrel he so willingly thrived in.

He’s close to her now; the toes of his boots and her leather slippers are just barely touching, and he can see the rise and fall of her chest as she inhales and exhales.

She looks up at him with something akin to tenderness in her expression before she gently strokes his wrist. Kaz shuts his eyes briefly before reaching to envelop her in a tentative embrace.

For a moment, the typical cacophony of noises of the Barrel drifting in through the window seems to fade. The scent of Inej’s hair- faint Suli spices and Ravkan summers and the sea breeze- surrounds him, and it’s warm, very warm. He inhales sharply, but not out of discomfort.

It all ends too soon when her forehead brushes his exposed neck and he’s sinking, flailing, falling deep into the terribly familiar territory of dark, murky waters. His hands are holding onto Jordie’s dead, rotting flesh, not the fabric of Inej’s simple clothes. The harbor waves slosh onto him, dowsing him, submerging him up to his chest, which is tight and not working because he can’t breathe for Ghezen’s sake. A small part of him knows he’s in the Slat and safe, but most of him is screaming because he’s back in the harbor, drowning, drowning, drowning.

He feels Inej pull away, hears her repeat his name over and over again until he can see the wooden boards of the attic floor instead of dark, churning waters. There's something heavy in his chest and it aches with indiscernible pain, and his eyes sting and water.

He squeezes his eyes shut and keeps them that way until he knows he won’t be seeing Jordie’s body under his desperate grip when he opens them.

His back is turned towards the open window and his shoulders are shaking because all he wanted to do was give her a hug but he can’t stand it, and he had vowed he was going to pull himself into some semblance of a man for her but flashes of bloated, peeling skin and the chill of water dragging him down haunts him like no ghost ever could.

And she’s holding her head in her hands because she knows he’s hurting for her.

Kaz’s grip is tight on the crow’s head of his cane, knuckles white and shaking. He itches to reach for the dark gloves in his pocket.

When he looks back at Inej, her dark eyes are brimming with emotion, a churning mixture of defense and apology and worry and exhaustion and something he can’t seem to decipher.

His throat is dry when he tries to speak, the rasp of his voice much more prominent. “I suppose it’s either carefulness on my part or pure luck that none of the other foolish gangs know of this. If van Eck or Rollins—“ he spits the name as if it were poison. “—knew, we’d be dead, wouldn’t we.”

Kaz knows that this is Dirtyhands speaking. Always the tactician, and proud of it.

But he also knows that Dirtyhands is just another part of him- Kaz Brekker, or Rietveld, or whoever he was, and that he should be able to get rid of this convoluted reaction to touch.

“Kaz…” Inej’s voice is soft and hesitant, and as he watches, she climbs onto the windowsill and into his line of sight.

His hands are still bare, and he clenches his jaw and takes her hand before she can say anything else.

He doesn’t want her to apologize, and she doesn’t.

What she does do is stay with him until he’s sitting on the worn mattress of his bed. She convinces him to get a good few hours of sleep, somehow. He knows not to argue.

And as his breaths slow and the bustle of the Barrel outside quiets down somewhat, he knows she’s there- too dark to see her lithe form well in the dark, but definitely there, and her presence is like a soothing balm because the chaos of his mind fades to a distant hum as his eyes slip shut of their own accord.

They may not be perfect, but they’re trying, and both of them know it. And Kaz thinks for a moment that perhaps that’s okay and that’s enough.

Ketterdam is never quiet, but it’s home.

———

So I’ve had that in my docs for quite a while now, so I thought I’d post it. Hope it was okay!

[mxltifxnd0m]

I was tagged by @sunny-reys , thank you darling!

rules: list your favorite male characters from ten different fandoms and tag ten people to do the same

1. Sirius Black- from Harry Potter

tbh I have a lot of favorite characters from harry potter, but he has always held a special place in my heart, even when I first read the books

2. Kaz Brekker- from the Grishaverse

ah yes, we love one of our favorite morally grey cane-wielding boys. I love how complex his character and I love how kanej was handled in the books and the show. I was split between him or the darkling but the darkling is my favorite villain not character so there's some clarification. also, 2 words Freddy mf carter.

3. Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield's version)- from Marvel

don't get me wrong I love Tom Holland's spider-man characterization, but I've adored how charismatic Andrew's peter was in TASM 1 and 2. Also his I loved the real chemistry between him and Gwen. Also, they are a source of my internal Bi panic.

4. Leo Valdez- from the Riordanverse

I love my resident fire bender tinkerer. also, I would love to be him so I can control fire lol

5. Zuko- from Avatar, The Last Airbender

speaking of firebenders, we can't forget our brooding crown prince of the fire nation. He had a redemption arc he deserved and tbh he was one of my cartoon crushes.

6. Caspian X- from Narnia

oh come on, did you not expect that I wouldn't include one of ben's characters in this list. (considering my obsession with him I think you did). Anyways I loved his accent in PC but was really sad when they told him not to do it in VODT. But yes Ben Barnes is technically a Disney prince/king so yeah.

7. Charles Xavier- from X-men

He is a charming telepath and tbh we all wanted to read minds and have enhanced intelligence. Oh yea and James McAvoy, enough said.

8. Barry Allen- from the DC universe

Tbh I hate the TV show after season 2 of The Flash, but with that in mind I loved his boyish charms in the first season and he was just an adorable speedster (but I still prefer Pietro lol)

9. Stiles Stilinski- from Teen Wolf

I strive to be as witty and sarcastic as Stiles. Though he is used as comic relief sometimes in the show, he's an interesting person and the only human in the pack

10. Steve Harrington- From Stranger Things

MOMMA STEVE! yes steve is the best mom the kids could have and I absolutely adored him in 2nd season and loved the dynamic that him and the kids have with each other

no pressure tags: @songofpatrochilless @chatnain @aniqua @confuscita @ilovemarvelanne1 @cupids-crystals and anyone one that wants to join!

[disappearinginq]

If you're still doing these: Top 5 fictional characters? Top 5 books?

I like avoiding chores, so yes - definitely still answering asks: 

Top 5 Fictional Characters: 

1. Sherlock Holmes - I will admit, the more recent versions of this character with Benedict Cumberbatch and Robert Downey Jr. are probably my favorite versions of Holmes, but I will read or watch pretty much anything about this man. I have even Young Sherlock and Moriarty sitting on my shelves, and even House of Silk (when I get the time). I just...I like characters that are the smartest in the room, and while I appreciate the surprise of a humble smart character, I am much closer to Sherlock and his “you can’t really be this dumb...oh. Shit. You are.”

2. Robin Hood - again, I will read or watch pretty much anything about this character, though I will always love Kevin Costner’s Prince of Thieves - and I actually did like Taron Edgerton’s portrayal in the most recent one, even though both versions were absolutely panned by critics. Probably because I wholeheartedly subscribe to taxation is theft, but also because I like any character who rips off people who have it coming to them. 

3. Merlin - I should say the mythology of King Arthur and Knights of the Round Table and anyone associated with it. But anyone who knows me likes a bit of subtle magic and either snarky secret wizards or cantankerous old wizards, and to this day, Sword in the Stone is my favorite iteration of this storyline. 

4. Tony Stark - Probably for the same reason I like Sherlock Holmes, I like Tony Stark, especially in the MCU. It’s one of the few times that someone is shown with a relatively not pretty version of CPTSD, and how it can alter your brain chemistry to the point of making wildly poor decisions because in your mind, it seems perfectly rational. (Do I like how Steve and everyone else just compacts the problem by complaining that Tony tries to control everything but also that everything is Tony’s fault? No - but that, in a way, is also accurate). Tony is also one of the few characters that witnesses fallout to his decisions, and learns from them. Again, not always the right lesson, but his character does learn. 

5. Aliena of Shiring from Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett - I will admit, I added her after wondering why I had no women fictional characters, but I realized most of it has to do with the terrible way that women characters are written. Aliena manages to be what I would call unconquerable. The amount of crap that woman puts up with for 1000 pages and still manages to not break, keep strong, think and out maneuver life is truly awe inspiring. I love her character so much.  

Top 5 Books. 

Hmm. Well, we already said I would read anything about Sherlock, Robin and Merlin, so...let’s branch out. 

1. Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. Follett primarily wrote spy and action novels, so this historical epic about cathedral building in a small town in England in the 12th century. It has epic everything. The characters are fantastic - True Good and True Evil, there’s a nun who places a curse on the bad guys and becomes a witch who lives in the woods. It has everything that is good about the church and everything that is bad about the church. It deals with the every day peoples’ dealings with the constant change between rulers (Empress Matilda and Stephen of Blois were going at it in a civil war after the death of Henry’s only legit son). It has a literally epic love story between Jack and Aliena, to whom every love story will forever pale in comparison, and Aliena legit walked across all of Christendom to find her True Love. Movie counterparts are Eddie Redmayne and Hayley Atwell. Everyone who is good gets a Happy Ending. Everyone who is evil gets their goddamn comeuppance in the most horrible of ways and they fucking deserve that shit.  

2. Okay, so on the heels of “the most epic story of all time”, I present to you a “It’s not the greatest but I love it anyway” - Rise of Renegade X, by Chelsea Campbell, which is in fact a series, and I love the second and third installment the most, but it’s about a made up city where there are superheroes and supervillains and that’s just how life goes. Heroes are marked with an H on their thumb when they turn 16, villains with a V (it’s a plot point to explain why, but it’s a genetic thing, like a finger print), and on the main character’s 16th birthday, he expects a V and instead gets an X. He eventually tracks down his super hero dad who didn’t know that he existed, and convinces the kid to come live with his family - where he has three other children, and a wife who was permanently crippled by a supervillain. As it goes along, the series deals more and more with prejudice, racism, classism, Good versus Evil compared to Right versus Wrong, and the MC, Damien is the first person narrative, so you get all of his snarky sarcasm first hand. 

3. Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo. 100% because of the world building, the fact that it is a fantasy version of Ocean’s Eleven, but also because I truly and deeply adore Kaz Brekker. One of the few characters with no particular power, he’s perfectly human, and absolutely terrifying. And while he has a character arc that I adore, it does not fundamentally hinge on him changing who he is. At the end, Kaz is still a fucking cold hearted, brilliant and scheming bastard, but the audience has an insight to him that maybe Kaz doesn’t even have himself. His issues don’t magically go away. He doesn’t have a Scrooge moment. He has his own set of principles and he stays by them, and what is so lovely is that the love interest accepts that. 

4. Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater. Murder horses based on Irish/Scottish Mythology, and a horse race with said murder ponies. Need I say more?  

5. Book of Lost Things by John Connolly. This is going to sound weird as a recommendation, but this book is the book of fucking nightmares. I read it for a class on Ireland because we had to pick either a story about Ireland, takes place in Ireland, or was written by an Irish person. I read this in I think an afternoon and I didn’t sleep that night. Despite the main character being like 11 years old, I would never let a kid read it. It’s a dark, true-to-Grimms’-source fairy tale that is like the twisted version of the Chronicles of Narnia, and a psychological trip and a half. I loved it. It is a true fairy tale - the kid, David, mom dies in the first chapter, and David feels like he failed her because he’d developed this SEVERE OCD ritual that he believed would keep his mother alive (it obviously doesn’t), and his dad, months later, remarries and has a second child, whom David hates. The baby cries all the time, the young mother is preoccupied with a baby and no husband (he’s off fighting in WWII), and David is left to occupy himself most of the time. They move out of London because of the Blitz, to David’s mother’s family estate. It’s old, and creepy, and the garden seems like something is calling to him, that sets a dread in the pit of his stomach when he goes near it. Enter the Crooked Man, a man who offers to give David everything he wants if David tells him his brother’s name. David refuses, and that night, a German plane crashes in the garden, and it turns out, that’s the portal/wardrobe to another world, and David gets dragged into it. And it just goes from there. 

Thanks for the asks! They’re always fun! 

[star-trek-shallot]

Kirk: Good morning.

Spock: Good morning.

Scotty: Good morning.

Uhura: You all sound like robots. Why don't you spice it up a bit?

McCoy, dramatically entering through the turbolift: MORNIN' MOTHERTRUCKERS!

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Ace of Spades

So happy to finally be posting this Six of Crows multichapter fic for the Grishaverse Big Bang! Thank you so much to @corpsecro​ for the beautiful cover art! See end for author’s notes.

Summary: Two years since the events of Crooked Kingdom, the Crows are back and better than ever (or barely holding themselves together) in a swashbuckling hunt across oceans that leads them to legendary catacombs, a secret society, creatures of myth and whimsy, and- if everything goes as planned- a long lost treasure.

POV: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, The Lilia (OC)

Chapter 1- Whiskey in a Teacup 

Seventeen months. It’d been seventeen months since Kaz Brekker watched The Wraith set sail.

He’d watched her go. Stood on the docks as the sun painted the horizon a brilliant smear of papaya, then a blush of lilac and rose, to a bruised star-speckled blue. He’d watched that far-off, distant thing that was once a ship and so much more, as it faded to a small smudge in the crease between sea and sky.

Then he’d taken the long way back to the Slat.

After that, it was business as usual. There was work to be done. In seventeen months he’d built an empire in this wretched, glorious town. Though, it had really been more like eight.

The other nine months he’d spent spending��he was positively swimming in kruge. Half the time he didn’t know what to do with all of it. There was no way to spend that kind of money responsibly.

“So spend it irresponsibly,” Jesper had suggested. “You’re the newly crowned King of the Barrel. These are your days of golden enthronement.”

And it had been fun for a while—being the big gang boss of the Barrel, owner of nearly every successful gambling den in Ketterdam, raking in the kruge every night and never worrying because there would always be more.

Kaz couldn’t help but notice that lately, however, most of his time was consumed by the golden contents of a bottle—and that conceivably, the closest thing he had to a golden throne these days was the aureate tub he now slumped in.

Alas, all newness went stale eventually. As it happened, Kaz Brekker was bored out of his mind. 

And his bath was going cold.

With a toe, he spun one of the faucet nozzles. A steady stream of hot water flowed into the tub with a hiss. He sank back, submerging his shoulders under the water’s rosy surface.

He was the kind of bored that made shooting himself in the kneecap seem appealing, if only for the purpose of forcing something interesting out of what had become a very mundane procession of days. The kind of bored that even baths and bubbles and teacups full of whiskey could not fix.

Kaz swirled the finger of amber liquid at the bottom of his cup. It sloshed up onto the porcelain sides and he thought about how much the colour resembled her eyes in a shaft of sunlight.

Then he shook his head. Ludicrous. Categorically asinine.

Here he was, Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, Bastard of the Barrel made Barrel Boss, a veritable King of Ketterdam; and he was sketching metaphors in his head for the colour of a girl’s eyes. A girl who was long gone, and indefinitely so.

Be all this as it may, he was also neck-deep in drink and pastel bubbles, so perhaps that was about right.

Not just any girl, he reminded himself, taking another sip of his drink.

She’d assured him she’d come back. And though he knew she would in due course, he had insisted she take all the time she needed to right what had been so very wrong for such a long time.

“Make them fear your name so much they daren’t even whisper it,” he’d told her before she left. “Make them pay, Inej.”

From what he’d heard, she’d lived up to that. Surpassed it, even. Slaughterer of Slavers, they called her. Vengeance of the Sea. What he would have paid to watch her burn their ships to ashes.

Kaz smiled at his teacup.

He looked to the night sky through the wavy glass of the window beside him, raised his makeshift glass to the distorted moon perched on the city skyline, and knocked back the remainder of his drink.

It was funny. He swore he felt the whisper of her presence on the wind with that burning swig. He loosed a chuckle. He was either imagining things or he was much drunker than he thought he was.

For Kaz had not felt the familiar rise of gooseflesh on the back of his neck—usually the first indicator of his Wraith’s presence—in a long while. And as he was most certain he’d be the first to hear of a particular ship making port in the harbour, he doubted it was anything but the ghost of a memory.

Yet, the tingle skittering across his scalp, the keen alertness pricking his senses to life, continued to be the most real thing in that tub.

Definitely drunk, Kaz thought and poured himself another knuckle of whiskey.

The bottle on the service cart next to the bath was old—one he’d been saving for a special occasion. He supposed tonight was just as special as any. In fact, the past four nights had been. He’d made his way through half the bottle, toasting the moon and the stars and whatever else lay around the bathroom as he sat in the tub every evening. They were all the same these days, either way.

“What shall we toast to?” Kaz mumbled to the cloud of pink bubbles eddying near his chest. He swirled the whiskey in his teacup. 

Perhaps he should toast the pistol lying next to the half-empty bottle. It was the only promise of excitement in the room. 

The breeze felt nice. A cool lick of air over the slowly heating bath—

Kaz looked up. Air from where? 

He was sure he’d shut the windows in the adjoining bedroom. Suddenly, his stupor washed away like water down the drain. He glanced at the pistol again, debating whether to get out of the tub and investigate or if he could risk waiting for his assailant in the warm cocoon of water. 

“I’d say to the pursuit of kruge,” a silky voice murmured from behind him. “But it looks like you’ve already got that covered.”

His heart stopped. He didn’t know whether he’d pass out or vomit, but either one might be likely considering the haze of whiskey he struggled to clear from his mind.

He turned to face the source of that familiar voice.

There, perched on the edge of the granite sink top like she’d been there all this time, was someone he hadn’t seen in seventeen months. Kaz couldn’t help the slow smile that crept across his face. 

“Hello, Inej,” he drawled.

“Hello, Kaz,” she said. 

He could have sworn the whole world shimmered when she smiled at him, though he wasn’t entirely certain she was truly here. He could have very well fallen asleep in the bathtub, and he would be none the wiser. Yes, this was all likely a drunken fever dream. His dreams did tend to torment him sometimes.

Nonetheless, he raised a brow and said, “Fancy meeting you here. In my bathroom. While I’m… bathing.”

If she blushed, Kaz could not see it in the golden glow of the bathroom lights. Perhaps the long months of travel and hard battle on the high seas had hardened her to such taunting that would have before made her cheeks stain red like a handful of pomegranate seeds.

In fact, he’d be shocked if she’d come back without a single jagged edge, though he couldn’t tell if that was the reason she held his gaze now, or the fact that he hadn’t delivered the line as smoothly as he would’ve liked. He couldn’t muster up enough wherewithal to care at the moment. Bubbles were really quite fascinating.

The corner of her mouth tilted up. “You were taking too long.”

“I like to soak.”

“I can see that.” Laughter gleamed in her eyes. Those eyes. And suddenly he did not care if this was a cruel figment of his imagination. He’d gladly play along.

Inej eyed the water. “Bubbles?” she asked with a bemused expression.

Kaz shrugged. “One of the more exciting facets of my life these days.”

“Things slow at the Crow Club then?”

“Slow at the Crow Club, slow with the Dregs.” He dipped his index finger in the mass of bubbles and came out with a small dollop which he blew into the air. They floated down like tiny, iridescent snowflakes. “Turns out, when everyone fears crossing you, nothing interesting ever happens.”

“One would think you’d be happy about that,” she said.

Kaz merely hummed noncommittally. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “One would think.”

“You’re not, though.”

He gave her a long look. “Would you be?”

“I’d be happy if I never had to worry,” she said, then knitted her brows. “Is the water pink?”

He smiled lazily. “Courtesy of Jesper. He took up a hobby.”

“Making bath products?”

Kaz nodded. “Soaps, bath fizzers, liquid bubbles, that sort of thing. The Dregs of the Bath, he called it. A business venture. It… did not end well.”

The corners of Inej’s mouth curled, eyes glittering mirthful delight—as if every possible consequence of Jesper and a hoard of perfumes and dyes reeled before her eyes in a resplendent carousel of disastrous hilarity.

This made Kaz very dizzy. Which was ridiculous, of course. It was her carousel. He sat up straighter and decided to stare very hard at a spot on the mirror beside her head.

“What happened?” Inej asked, and Kaz realised he had not offered her an explanation to his ominous statement.

The Dregs of the Bath had actually been a fairly successful business venture for a time. Jesper was good at dreaming up fantastical innovations and scent combinations so wondrous, it surprised Kaz for how much he didn’t mind them. For all of about three weeks, his friend had certainly given even the more established toiletry retailers of Ketterdam a run for their money.

The side effects of production, however…

Kaz remembered the way Jesper had shown up to the Crow Club for nearly a month sporting dark splotches of dye up to his elbows. He’d thought it amusing at first.

Half of the Dregs were covered head to toe in ink anyway, and Kaz didn’t enforce a dress code. Frankly, he didn’t care what any of the Dregs looked like as long as they did their jobs. That is, until the patrons had started whispering something about a plague.

Then, of course, Kaz had immediately grabbed Jesper by the back of his suspenders and hauled him to the nearest sink in the kitchens.

“It won’t come off,” Jesper had groused, scrubbing furiously at his forearms.

“Then I would recommend gloves,” he’d said dryly to his friend. “They make for quite the statement piece. I can loan you a pair.”

Once the dye had all but faded, there was still the matter of the smell, which wasn’t exactly bad so much as it was a little overwhelming. The problem with making your own scented bath products, it seemed, was that the aromas clung to every perceivable surface, and spread like an autumn breeze through a dale.

This was fine when Jesper had only been making one inoffensive citrus-scented bar soap. He’d smelled like a fruit basket for days, and made the entire club give off the impression that it was immaculately clean when Kaz knew it was surely not.

But one innocent fragrance had quickly become a cloud of five, and then an assault of ten.

Soon, every dweller from the Financial District to the Barrel had learned that if you could smell the aromas of the Van Eck manor (which had more than once been mistaken for a perfumery by tourists in those sundry weeks), it was already too late. You, too, would be wrapped in the cloying fragrance cocoon of a fruit basket inside a florist inside a bakery inside a tannery in the heart of a very dense forest.

Kaz had not mentioned it to Jesper, however; and one day, the smell had simply vanished. Jesper, in turn, had not mentioned anything to Kaz. They’d been seeing less and less of each other lately.

He supposed that was just how things went. Jesper had Wylan, and Wylan made his friend very happy. He couldn’t complain about that.

Besides, Kaz had… well, he had lots and lots of baths. And whiskey. And more kruge than he could ever possibly need. And…

A breeze floated in through the open window in the bedroom.

Kaz looked at Inej. There was a small part of him that still doubted her really being here. But then, the draft blew a lock of her crow dark hair loose from its braid—and when it fluttered a caress against her cheek, Kaz knew.

He might be skilled at plotting impossible schemes, but his imagination was not so creative and vivid as this. Especially not half-seas over.

Inej still sat on the countertop, reclined against the mirror, feet dangling over the edge. She eyed him in amusement. Probably mild concern, too, though he couldn’t focus through the steam and his whiskey muddled mind enough to tell.

“He got bored,” Kaz finally said with a shrug. “Moved on to something else. Made his own ale for a while. Regardless, there’s a closet full of bath fizzers of every smell and colour at the Van Eck manor, should you desire spicing up your bath experience.”

Inej laughed. That laugh. And Kaz’s eyes went wide and sober for five whole seconds before the glaze of alcohol and warm water slipped back over his senses.

He leaned back in the tub again. A wave of water sloshed over the side, hitting the tile floor with a splash.

“I think I’ll stick to regular baths for the time being,” she said.

At that, Kaz could think of no response. So he said nothing, but hummed and sank down further into the water.

“Why are you here, Wraith?” he asked when a moment had passed.

Inej’s eyes glinted something mischievous. “I have a proposal.”

♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎

AN: Thanks so much for reading, everyone! And a massive thank you to The Serrated Spades, the team of creators, editors, and beta readers who’ve been working with me these past few months to create something really special for @grishaversebigbang​ !! 

Check out @6crowgang​ ‘s GORGEOUS comic strip for this chapter!

Thanks so much again to @corpsecro​ for this absolute masterpiece of cover art! (GUYS. It moves!!!)

Get a sneak peek of heist planning (ft. an OC of mine) in this beautiful piece by @fishmaid​ !

This swashbuckling mood board by @ravenclawsandbeak​ sets the vibe just right!

More chapters to come soon- if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, just shoot me a message/ask 🖤💫

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