#wylan's just working on his scheming face

[wylanslcve]

In the books, it's the scheming face. In the show, it's the bombastic side-eye.

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Four Crows Investigation" - Kaz Brekker x Reader

[vulgar language]

[Part 2 - Lovebirds' Outfox]

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

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SUMMARY: After Nina makes a passing comment about Brekker’s heartbeat, three crows join her in an investigation to uncover the true nature of your relationship with Kaz.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.4k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<

Sitting around the table, leaning forward in a secretive manner, the four Crows look nothing short of a conspiracy. Their appearance is in no way deceptive - that’s exactly the reason for their meeting. Nina looks between Jesper’s and Wylan’s shoulders, checking whether you and Kaz are in any way suspicious of their gathering. For now, you look a little too preoccupied with each other. Time for the final conference.

The Heartrender leans even further towards her friends, looking between them with a questioning gaze. She seems to be the most excited about this ‘secretive investigation’, as she called it a week ago, but that should not come as a surprise - all of this has been her idea from start to finish. The moment she noticed Kaz’s heartbeat significantly pick up when you showed up in a ball gown in an attempt to mix in with the immorally wealthy crowd at the banquet, Nina simply had to know more. Her friends, although reluctant at first, joined the scheme out of their own meddling.

“So, what did you manage to find out?” She’s trying to keep her voice quiet but the sheer excitement makes it difficult.

“I still don’t understand why we’re doing this,” Wylan stutters out while shaking his head gently. He may be part of a crime syndicate now but spying on his friends, and his boss, just seems too far.

“Because we care about them?” Jesper asks with fake worry in his voice. Then, a devious smile appears on his face. “And we’re morbidly curious.”

“Can’t we just ask them, then?”

“As if either of them is going to say something,” Inej grunts. Knowing both of you fairly well, she never expected a straightforward question to get anything outside of a snarky comment or a side-eye.

Nina impatiently taps her hand on the table. “Alright, who goes first?”

╚ Jesper’s Evidence  ╝

He knows Kaz is going to get angry the moment he walks through the door but, at the same time, Jesper’s kind of out of options. As much as he hates to admit it to himself and definitely will not do it aloud, he’s facing an impasse.

The moment he pushes the door open, your and Kaz’s eyes snap towards him. He makes a note of your shoulders - brushing against one another as you’re standing over scattered papers, a little too close for practicality or for the closeness to be accredited to accident. You’re definitely giving the impression that he walked in at an inconvenient moment.

But Jesper is good at bluffing, never giving away that he noticed the thought-provoking lack of space between you. “Carliogne won’t talk unless he sees the contract you signed with Bruglione,” he informs. “His reasoning is that we’re probably trying to fuck him over.”

Kaz stares at him for a moment with an unreadable expression. “We are,” he finally answers.

“Well, he doesn’t need to know that for now, does he?”

“It makes sense,” you speak up. Pondering, you nod to yourself. “If he sees the contract, he’ll become less cautious and playing him should be even easier. Just wait a second,” you wave your hand at Jesper, “I think I put it in the bottom drawer.”

The moment you crouch behind the desk, Jesper’s eyes catch movement - Kaz is covering the edge of the table over your head with his hand. Considering that he’s looking at papers in the opposite direction, he might not even be aware of this little habit. The gunslinger stifles a smile. Nina is going to love this.

Soon, you stand back up at the protective hand reaches to flip through a wad of documents as though nothing has happened. Extending your arm towards Jesper, you offer him the folded contract between your two fingers.

“Please, don’t get it stained.”

“Can’t make promises,” he says with a cheeky smile as he snatches the paper from you.

Jesper hears your groan right before he closes the door behind himself.

╚ Wylan’s Evidence  ╝

Wylan rarely got ‘field work’ aside from setting up explosives. The out-of-ordinary occasions were stake-outs, when he’d sit in one place for hours on end waiting for something to happen, having only Jesper’s company to pass the time - not that there’s anything wrong with that. In fact, that’s the only part that makes those ‘patrol duties’ bearable.

 Although he feels uneasy creepily watching, he’s supposed to wait for an agreed-on sign to carry out his part in the plan. And with Jesper gone to the bathroom, the responsibility of staying vigilant is his only. Sitting on the carriage bench, he has a good view of the street but most of his attention surrounds a certain table at a boulangerie near the junction. You and Kaz are doing a great job at looking common - just drinking coffee, chatting, completely run-of-the-mill people and definitely not hardened criminals ready to call their companions to action when their prey is in sight.

Wylan suddenly sits up, hardly believing the scene unfolding before his eyes: you offer Kaz your bagel and he just… bites it. No glares, no scowls, he just takes a bite and you continue the conversation. Maybe Nina was right and something is up.

The carriage shakes slightly as Jesper gets back on it. “What did I miss?” he asks in an upbeat voice.

╚ Inej’s Evidence ╝

It’s the middle of the night but Inej rarely works at other times. Only one thing stands between her and the comfort of her bed - Kaz. She’s well-aware that he’s still going to be working at this hour, making her wonder once more: when does he rest?

Kaz seems to be expecting her as he doesn’t even flinch when she barges into his office. He just looks up at her for a moment, only to return to writing something. Inej is about to tell him what Lorenzzo Carliogne had been up to during the day, when her eyes focus on a surprising singularity: the daybed standing in the corner of the office, used as an additional shelf or a desk most of the time, is occupied. First, she realizes that it’s you sleeping on it but then another, a much more interesting detail, catches her eye in the dim candlelight of the room - you’re covered with a coat that undoubtedly looks like it belongs to Kaz.

“I take it there’s a reason you’re here at this hour?” Brekker brings her attention back to himself.

“Yes,” she starts, sparing you one last glance before looking at Kaz, “Carliogne lives with his wife and three children. Staff comes in through a separate pair of doors, only the main chef and butler have keys to it. There’s a rotation in guards during lunch.”

“Good,” he answers. Kaz looks up at Inej but again, it’s just for a moment - his focus is soon directed at the papers in front of him.

A silence falls. The thought to inquire about you, the daybed and his coat passes her thoughts but an instinct dissuades her from doing so. Because realistically, what sort of answer would Kaz give her anyway? It’s better to spare herself the snark and just go to bed.

The four friends look between each other, curious whether all of them came to the same conclusion. Tense excitement hangs in the air. There is a certain aspect of juvenile nosyness that entices them, making this whole over-the-top operation fun and not just a gossip convention.

A pout twists Nina’s face. It would have looked sad if it wasn’t for her raised eyebrows, making her expression more compassionate than woeful. “They’re so in love it’s kind of embarrassing,” she announces.

Three pairs of eyes follow her pitiful gaze to the faraway table where you’re sitting with Kaz, oblivious to the interest the Crows have in you. It looks like you’re retelling him a story, gesturing wildly with one of your hands, while the other is kept on the table, underneath his gloved fingers. Kaz is just nodding along, answering something shortly from time to time. 

“Just look at them,” Jesper says with a sense of misguided pride as though he had some contribution in the makings of the couple. He’s shaking his head with amusement. “How could we ever had any doubts?”

“Do you think they know that we know?” Wylan asks quietly.

Inej shrugs. “I don’t think they care.”

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part thirty-two

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutral

el's thoughts: again, thank you for being so patient with meee!! from a writing aspect, i'm almost done with the series! and it's wilddd i'm currently finishing up chapter thirty-five and my heart hurts knowing that i'm kinda almost done..

masterlist

Y/N stared silently at Kaz while he watched Inej intently, his bitter coffee eyes glittering in the light from the dome.

Inej explained how the costumes would be their masks. How the Fjerdans would only see a Suli lynx and a Kaelish mare. Not people, not even really girls, just lovely objects to be collected.

“It’s a risk,” said Kaz.

“What job isn’t?”

“Kaz, how are you, Matthias and Y/N going to get through?” asked Nina. “We might need you for locks, and if things go bad on the island, I don’t want to be stranded. I doubt you can pass yourselves off as members of the houses.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” said Kaz. “Helvar’s been holding out on us.”

“Have you?” asked Y/N.

“It’s not-” Matthias dragged a hand over his cropped hair. “How do you know these things, demjin?” he growled at Kaz.

“Logic. The whole Ice Court is a masterpiece of fail-safes and doubled systems. That glass bridge is impressive, but in an emergency, there would have to be another way to get reinforcements to the White Island and get the royal family out.”

Y/N and Jesper shared a smirk at the sight of Matthias’ baffled expression.

“Yes,” said Matthias in exasperation. “There’s another way to the White Island. But it’s messy.” He glanced at Nina. “And it certainly can’t be done in a gown.”

“Hold on,” Jesper interrupter. “Who cares if you can all get onto the White Island? Let’s say Nina sparkles Yul-Bayur’s location out of some Fjerdan higher-up, and you get him back here. We’ll be trapped/ By then, the prison guards will have completed their search and are going to know seven inmates got out of the sector somehow. Any chance we have of making it through the embassy gates and the checkpoints will be gone.”

Kaz peered past the dome to the embassy’s open courtyard and the ringwall gatehouse beyond.

“Wylan, how hard would it be to disable one of these gates?”

“To get it open?”

“No, to keep it closed.”

“You mean break it?” Wylan shrugged. “I don’t think it would be too difficult. I couldn’t see the mechanism when we entered the prison gate, but from the layout, I’m guessing it’s pretty standard.”

“Pulleys, cogs, some really big screws?”

“Well, yes, and a sizable winch. The cables wrap around it like a big spool, and the guards just turn it with some kind of handle or wheel.”

“I know how a winch works. Can you take one apart?”

“I think so, but it’s the alarm system the cables are attached to that’s complicated. I doubt I could do it without triggering Black Protocol.”

“Good,” said Kaz. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Jesper held up a hand. “I’m sorry, isn’t Black Protocol the thing we want to avoid at all costs?”

“I do seem to remember something about certain doom,” said Nina.

“Not if we use it against them.” Y/N spoke up causing Kaz to give her a nod. “Tonight, most of the Court’s security is concentrated on the White Island and right here at the embassy. When Black Protocol sounds, the glass bridge will shut down, trapping all those guards on the island along with the guests.”

“But what about Matthias’ rout off the island?” asked Nina.

“They can’t move a major force that way,” Matthias conceded. “At least not quickly.”

Kaz gazed out at the White Island, head filter, eyes slightly unfocused.

“Scheming face,” Inej murmured.

Y/N nodded. “Definitely.”

“Three gates in the ringwall,” Kaz said. “The prison gate is already locked up tight because of Yellow Protocol. The embassy gate is a bottle neck crammed with guests—the Fjerdans aren’t going to get the troops through there. Jesper, that just leaves the gate in the druskelle sector for you and Wylan to handle. You use it to engage Black Protocol, then wreck it. Break it badly enough that any guards who manage to mobilize can’t get out to follow us.”

“I’m all for locking the Fjerdans in their own fortress,” said Jesper. “Truly. But how do we get out? Once we trigger Black Protocol, you guys will be trapped on that island, and we’ll be trapped in the outer circle. We have no weapons and no demo materials.”

Kaz’s grin was sharp as a razor. “Thank goodness we’re proper thieves. We’re going to do a little shopping—and it’s all going on Fjerda’s tab.”

~

Y/N looked at her strange crew, barefoot and shivering in their soot-stained prison uniforms, their features limned by the golden light of the dome, softened by the mist that hung in the air.

What bound them together? Greed? Desperation? Was it just the knowledge that if one or all of them disappeared tonight, no one would come looking? Maybe Nikolai would send a few troops to search but that was out of duty. Y/N had no one to shed a tear and mourn her life. She had no family, no parents, no siblings, only people to fight beside. And she knew that was always something to be grateful for, too.

It was Jesper who spoke first. “No mourners,” he said with a grin.

“No funerals,” they replied in unison. Even Matthias muttered the words softly.

“If any of you survive, make sure I have an open casket,” Jesper said as he hefted two slender could of rope over his shoulder and signaled for Wylan to follow him across the roof. “The world deserves a few more moments with this face.”

Y/N was only slightly surprised to see the intensity of the look that passed between Matthias and Nina. Something had changed between them after the battle with the Shu, but she couldn’t be sure what.

Matthias cleared his throat and gave Nina an awkward little bow. “A word?” he asked.

Nina returned the bow with considerably more panache, and let him lead her away.

Inej gave the inferni a soft smile and slipped the recognizable pair of black leather gloves into her hands. The Suli nodded towards Kaz and slipped away to wait for Nina.

Y/N turned to face him and walked to his side.

“I have something for you,” she said as she held out his gloves.

He stared at them. “How-”

“I got them from the discarded clothes and gave them to Inej before she made the climb.”

He pulled the gloves on slowly, and she watched his pale, vulnerable hands disappear beneath the leather. They were trickster hands—long, graceful fingers made for prying open locks, hiding coins, making things vanish.

“When we get back to Ketterdam, I’m heading back to Ravka right away.”

He looked away. “You should. You’re too good for the Barrel anyway.”

She hummed and closed her eyes tightly in frustration. She didn’t know what she expected from him but she wanted more.

He reached down to hold her wrist. “Y/N.” His gloved thumb moved over her pulse, tracing the top of a burn scar she got when she miss caught her first flame. “If we don’t make it out, I want you to know … ”

She waited. She felt hope rustling its wings inside her, ready to take flight at the right words from Kaz. She willed that hope into stillness. Those words would never come. Hope is dangerous.

She reached up and touched his cheek. She thought he might flinch again, even pull away from her. He let her hand cup his cheek. His skin was cool and damp from the rain. He stayed still, just barely leaning closer to her warm touch.

“If we don’t survive this night, I will die unafraid, Kaz. Can you say the same?”

His eyes were nearly black, the pupils dilated. She could see his dazed gaze focus back onto her, still not pulling away. She knew it was the best he could offer at the moment and she nodded softly.

She dropped her hand. He took a deep breath.

Kaz had said he didn’t want her prayers and she wouldn’t speak them, but she wished his safe and sane nonetheless.

Matthias stood a few feet away from the pair, grabbing the Inferni’s attention.

“Let’s go, Kaz.”

~*~

taglist: @katherinereid @littlecat21 @jahayla-parker @maliciousbrekker @brekkershadowsinger @brekkers-desigirl @clunaes @wonderland2425 @bookloverfilmoholic @karensirkobabes @bookworm-center @el-de-phi @so-get-this-sammy @skittleabyss @crispy-croke @cometsghost @auttumnsayshi

[thecrxwclub]

assigning taylor swift songs to grishaverse characters + ships because i don’t want to do my actual work!! this is about to be long as hell!!

notes: i feel like some of these will be unpopular opinions but here we are + there are two instances where ppl have the same song (long story short and you’re on your own kid) but i just think it applies to both characters really well. and idk why basically all the crows are from midnights, it’s just a soc album i guess.

ALINA STARKOV

– long story short : evermore

"Past me, I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things. Your nemeses will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing…and I fell from the pedestal, right down the rabbit hole. Long story short, it was a bad time. Pushed from the precipice, climbed right back up the cliff. Long story short, I survived. Now I’m all about you, I’m all about you. Long story short, it was a bad time. Long story short, I survived.”

MAL ORETSEV

– this is me trying : folklore

“They told me all of my cages were mental. So I got wasted like all my potential. And my words shoot to kill when I’m mad. I have a lot of regrets about that…I just wanted you to know that this is me trying. At least I’m trying.”

NIKOLAI LANTSOV

– Mastermind : Midnights

"No one wanted to play with me as a little kid. So I’ve been scheming like a criminal ever since. To make them love me and make it seem effortless. This is the first time I’ve felt the need to confess. And I swear I’m only cryptic and Machiavellian ‘cause I care.”

ZOYA NAZYALENSKY

– You’re On Your Own Kid : Midnights

“You’re on your own, kid. You always have been. From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes, I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this. I hosted parties and starved my body. Like I’d be saved by a perfect kiss. The jokes weren’t funny, I took the money, my friends from home don’t know what to say. I looked around in a blood-soaked gown, and I saw something they can’t take away.”

KAZ BREKKER

– Dear Reader : Midnights

"Dear Reader, if it feels like a trap you’re already in one. Dear Reader, get out your map. Pick somewhere and just run. Dear Reader, burn all the files, desert all your past lives. And if you don’t recognize yourself that means you did it right. Never take advice from someone who’s falling apart…Dear Reader, the greatest of luxuries is your secrets. Dear Reader, when you aim at the devil make sure you don’t miss.”

INEJ GHAFA

– Karma : Midnights

“Karma is my boyfriend. Karma is a god, karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend. Karma’s a relaxing thought, aren’t you envious that for you it’s not? Sweet like honey, karma is a cat, purring in my lap ‘cause it loves me. Flexing like a goddamn acrobat. Me and karma vibe like that.”

NINA ZENIK

– Bejeweled : Midnights

“Sapphire tears on my face, sadness became my whole sky…And you can try to change my mind. But you might have to wait in line. What’s a girl gonna do? A diamond’s gotta shine. Best believe I’m still bejeweled. When I walk in a room, I can still make the whole place shimmer…Diamonds in my eyes. I polish up real, I polish up real nice.”

JESPER FAHEY

– Anti-Hero : Midnights

"I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser. Midnights become my afternoons. When my depression works the graveyard shift all of the people I’ve ghosted stand there in the room…It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me. At tea time, everybody agrees. I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror. It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero.”

WYLAN VAN ECK

– You’re On Your Own Kid : Midnights

“Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned. Everything you lose is a step you take. So make the friendship bracelets, take a moment and taste it, you’ve got no reason to be afraid. You’re on your own, kid. Yeah, you can face this. You’re on your own kid, you always have been.”

MATTHIAS HELVAR

– ivy : evermore

"How’s one to know? I’d live and die for moments that we stole. On begged and borrowed time…oh, goddamn. My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand taking mine, but it’s been promised to another. Oh, I can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland. My house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I’m covered in you.”

GENYA SAFIN

– Clean : 1989

“Hung my head as I lost the war, and the sky turned black like a perfect storm. Rain came pouring down. When I was drowning, that’s when I could finally breathe. And by morning, gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean.”

DAVID KOSTYK

– Sweet Nothing : Midnights

"On the way home I wrote a poem. You say ‘what a mind’, this happens all the time. ‘Cause they said the end is coming. Everyone’s up to something. I find myself running home to your sweet nothings. Outside, they’re push and shoving. You’re in the kitchen humming. All that you ever wanted from me was nothing.”

THE DARKLING

I Did Something Bad : Reputation

"They’re burning all the witches, even if you aren’t one. They got their pitchforks and proof, their receipts and reasons. They’re burning all the witches, even if you aren’t one. So light me, go ahead and light me up. They say I did something bad. Then why’s it feel so good? They say I did something bad. But why’s it feel so good? Most fun I ever had, and I’d do it over and over and over again if I could. It just felt so good.”

TOLYA YUL-BATAAR

– epiphany : folklore

"Keep your helmet, keep your life, son. Just a flesh wound, here’s your rifle…With you I serve. With you, I fall down. Watch you breathe in, watch you breathing out. Only 20 minutes to sleep, but you dream of some epiphany. Just one single glimpse of relief, to make some sense of what you’ve seen.”

TAMAR KIR-BATAAR

– Only the Young : Featured in “Miss Americana”

“They aren’t gonna help us, too busy helping themselves. They aren’t gonna change this, we gotta do it ourselves. They think that it’s over, but it’s just begun. Only one thing can save us…Don’t say you’re too tired to fight, it’s just a matter of time. Up there’s the finish line. Only the young can run.”

HANNE BRUM

– long story short : evermore

“Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles ‘til the battle picked me. Misery. Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep. And you passed right by, I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides. The knife cuts both ways. If the shoe fits, walk in it ‘til your high heels break.”

–––––––––––––––––––––

KANEJ

– Renegade : How Long Do You Think It’s Gonna Last?

“Are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these? And let all your damage damage me? And carry your baggage up my street and make me your future history? It’s time, you’ve come a long way. Open the blinds, let me see your face. You wouldn’t be the first renegade to need somebody. Is it insensitive for me to say ‘get your shit together so I can love you’?"

HELNIK

– Long Live : Speak Now

“Long, long live the walls we crashed through. All the kingdom lights shine, just for me and you. I was screaming, long live all the magic we made, and being on all the pretenders, I’m not afraid. Singing long live all the mountains we moved, I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you. And long, long live that look on your face. And bring on all the pretenders. One day, we will be remembered.”

WESPER

– Paper Rings : Lover

“Kiss me once ‘cause you know I had a long night. Kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright. Three times ‘cause I’ve waited my whole life. I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings. Darling, you’re the one I want, and I hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this.”

ZOYALAI

– The Great War : Midnights

"And we will never go back to that bloodshed, crimson clover. The worst was over. My hand was the one you reached for all throughout the Great War. Always remember we’re burned for better, I vowed I would always be yours. ‘Cause we survived the Great War.”

MALINA

– invisible string : folklore

“Time, curious time. Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs. Were there clues I didn’t see? And isn’t it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?”

DARKLINA

– Dear John : Speak Now

“You are an expert at sorry and keeping lines blurry. Never impressed by me acing your tests. All the girls that you’ve run dry have tired, lifeless eyes ‘cause you burned them out. But I took your matches before fire could catch me, so don’t look now.”

DANYA

— Last Kiss : Speak Now

“But now I'll go sit on the floor wearing your clothes. All that I know is I don’t know how to be something you miss. I never thought we’d have a last kiss. Never imagined we’d end like this. Your name, forever the name on my lips.”

TAMADIA

— Lover : Lover

“My heart’s been borrowed, and yours has been blue. All’s well that ends well to end up with you…Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close, forever and ever? And I, take me out, and take me home. You’re my, my, my, my lover.”

HANNINA

— Daylight : Lover

“I’ll tell you the truth, but never goodbye. I don’t want to look at anything else now that I saw you. And I don’t want to think of anything else now that I thought of you. I’ve been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night, but now I see daylight. I only see daylight.”

[milo-my-beloved]

meet-cute

@bookishbunnies asked for a fic about the night Wylan and Jesper met in the show canon, so here you go!!

Summary:

meet-cute noun (in a film or television programme) an amusing or charming first encounter between two characters that leads to the development of a romantic relationship between them.

One meet-cute isn't enough for Jesper and Wylan. Here's the story of their first two.

Read under the cut // Read on AO3.

The first time Wylan lays eyes on Jesper is at the tannery.

Wylan thinks he's hallucinating. The bosses don't waste their profit by providing masks or goggles for their staff, so his eyes are blurry from stirring the bubbling vat of chemicals in front of him. This tall, grinning Zemeni man belongs in his dreams, not his workplace. But when he blinks away his tears, the man is still there, one hand tucked into the pocket of his lime plaid waistcoat, and the other perched on the pearl handle of a revolver on the hip of his yellow trousers.

His second thought, after pinching himself to check this is real, is that his father has sent another man to kill him. In broad daylight.

Instead of threatening his life, the man says, "Hear you know your way around a chemistry set."

"What?" Wylan expected him to shoot him, not ask him about his marketable skills. "I... yes. A bit."

"Just a bit?"

"I have a background," he hedges.

"Then come to this address when you get off work tonight." He holds out a folded piece of paper, a lazy smile on his face. Wylan takes it, his hands shaking as he looks down at the carefully arranged cursive and then back up at the stranger. "We have a job for you. A real job."

Wylan glances down at the tangle of letters. "I — I don't know where this is."

The man sighs. "You're not from here, are you?" Wylan shakes his head. "Fine. I'll come fetch you, because clearly I don't have anything to do with my time but squire new lilies around town. Wylan, right?"

He nods.

"Wylan what?"

"Wylan... Hendriks."

"You know much about demo, Wylan Hendriks?"

Sometimes, he swears the Barrel has its own language. "Demo?"

The man's grin widens. "The boom, the bang, the flint and the fuss," he says, gesturing wildly.

Wylan doesn't point out that such a vague explanation is entirely unhelpful, because this conversation feels important, somehow. "Sure."

"We'll see. Be out front at six bells. And no guns unless you want trouble."

"Of course not." Is it the chemicals or the insanity of the situation making him light-headed?

"Kaz has got to be out of his mind," the man mutters, before sauntering away, leaving Wylan alone with his chemicals and a head full of questions.

*****

Just past six bells, Wylan meets Kaz Brekker and Inej Ghafa for the first time. Desperate for enough cash to stay in the terrible boarding rooms he found on his first night in the Barrel, he agrees to make a handful of phosphorus bombs.

It should be a simple transaction: explosives, in exchange for enough kruge to see him through the next two weeks and a promise not to involve him in any more schemes. Like most things in Wylan's life, though, it complicates itself.

"I'm starving," declares Jesper once the meeting is over. They're standing outside the Slat and are definitely in the way of the Dregs coming and going, but neither of them are keen to leave. "You should come with me to get dinner."

Wylan's brain stops working. "What?"

Jesper rolls his eyes. He seems to do that a lot around Wylan. "I'm starving," he repeats, "and you must be hungry after working all day, so the solution to both of these problems would be..."

"Dinner," he finishes, slightly dazed.

"Exactly."

He has to crane his neck slightly to look up at Jesper. The light from the doorway illuminates one side of his face in a magical glow that has Wylan's fingertips itching for a paintbrush. But although Jesper may not have been sent to kill him, he's still dangerous. The Barrel is where the criminals and conmen come out to play, and Wylan isn't stupid enough to believe a man as handsome as Jesper Fahey is actually interested in him.

"It's quite late," he says.

"Past your bedtime?" He scoffs. "There's a place down the road that stays open all night. They serve the most delicious poffertjes, with the right amount of butter instead of the piddly amount the street vendors give you."

Wylan's stomach rumbles. He hasn't eaten properly in days, but with the money Kaz is offering him to do this job...

"Let's go get dinner," he agrees.

After all, they're work colleagues now. They may as well be on friendly terms.

Jesper leads him to a cafe a few streets away with flower boxes in the windows. It's quiet this late at night, with only a handful of customers scattered around the tables and one waitress flitting between them. They seat themselves across from each other in one of the booths that line the left wall, and the waitress hands them each a menu and tells them she'll be back in a minute.

"Ooh, they have syrup now," says Jesper as he scans the menu.

On the few occasions Wylan's father was forced to bring him to dinner, he always ordered for him to avoid any potential embarrassment. Although it was condescending and his disappointment was palpable, he was always secretly relieved. Now, he's on his own, and he has to protect his own shame.

"What are you thinking of getting?" Jesper asks.

He shrugs. "What do you recommend?"

The waitress returns. The bags under her eyes are as black as ink; she must not be used to the night shift. Wylan can sympathise with her on that. "What can I get for you?"

"I'll have the poffertjes with apple syrup and a whiskey, please," Jesper says, shooting her a charming smile. It sparks jealousy in Wylan, even though Jesper isn't his to claim, and has talked to him as if he's a nuisance all night.

"I'll have the same," Wylan adds hurriedly. "And a tea, if that's alright."

She nods, scribbling down their order on her notepad. "Lovely. It'll be ready in a few minutes."

Once they're alone, Jesper turns his gaze onto Wylan. His focus tends to wander, to have all his attention focused on him makes him want to squirm in his seat. It takes all his restraint to sit still.

"So, tell me about yourself, Wylan Hendriks."

"What do you want to know?" Hopefully the questions are innocent enough for him to skirt around the truth without lying.

"I don't know. What's your favourite colour?"

He considers the question for a moment. It really depends on the day; as an artist, he knows how they all compliment each other, and are all beautiful in different circumstances. "Yellow," he answers, and then blushes furiously when he realises he picked the colour Jesper is wearing.

"Aw, that's such a happy colour. You really aren't from the Barrel, are you?"

Wylan shrugs. "What was I supposed to say? Blood red?"

"Mine's blue," Jesper says. "Brings out my eyes."

The waitress delivers their drinks and hurries off to one of the other tables.

"What do you like, then? What are you interested in?"

He feels a little like he's being interrogated, but that question is much easier to answer. "Music. Numbers. Equations. They're not like words. They... they don't get mixed up." He picks up the teapot and pours himself a cup, not daring to meet Jesper's eyes.

"If only you could talk to girls in equations," Jesper snorts.

There's a long silence, and then, eyes trained on his cup, Wylan says, "Just girls?"

Jesper's grin stretches so far it could split his face in half. "No. Not just girls."

Wylan ducks his head. His face feels like it's on fire. Luckily, the waitress saves him from further embarrassment by placing two identical plates on the table and promptly disappearing again.

Suddenly, he can't remember the last time he ate. He's had the little fried balls of batter before, of course — poffertjes are a Kerch staple — but never with syrup and neatly sliced chunks of apple before. Jesper was right, too; they pancake balls are slathered in a generous amount of butter, and they've sprinkled cinnamon on the top for good measure.

"Oh, wow," Wylan breathes, and his stomach growls as he carefully impales on on his fork and brings it to his watering mouth.

"I know, right? They look almost as fantastic as me." Jesper winks, and then adds, "And they taste just as good, too."

Wylan chokes. He has to thump his chest a few times to dislodge the unchewed lump of apple stuck in his throat, while Jesper laughs at his reaction.

They spend the rest of the dinner like that, every sentence bordering on flirting. Wylan busies himself with eating his heavenly food, and Jesper takes great pleasure in making him blush.

Once they're finished and the waitress returns with their bill, Jesper slaps down enough kruge to cover both their meals. "This one's on me," he insists with another wink, and Wylan feels the last of his resolve crumble into ash.

"Let me walk you home," Jesper offers as they leave the cafe.

He doesn't need to see how strapped Wylan really is. "You paid for dinner. I should be walking you home."

Jesper playfully waggles his eyebrows and grabs his hand. "In that case, escort me back to bed, sunshine."

He can't hide his grin at the nickname. They walk hand in hand for a while, Jesper swinging their arms back and forth as he explains all the best and worst places to eat in Ketterdam.

"And that's why you should never, ever eat at Sten's Stockpot," he finishes.

Wylan laughs. "I'll keep that in mind. Oh, look!" Most of the street vendors have packed up their stalls by now, but there's one still standing on the corner with a basket of stroopwafels held close to his chest.

"I haven't had a stroopwafel in years," Jesper says.

He tugs them over to the vendor and reluctantly releases Jesper's hand so he can pull the kruge Kaz gave him out of his pocket. "How much for two?"

"Can't you read the sign?" The vendor complains. "One for one kruge, six for five."

"Must have missed it," Wylan says, forcing as much nonchalance into his tone as he can manage. He hands over five kruge and the man wraps up six stroopwafels in a brown paper bag. As they stroll away, Wylan takes one out and passes it to Jesper before biting into one of his own.

Jesper lets out a shameless moan. "Saints, they're still warm."

"Just as good as you remember?" Wylan asks.

"Gooey and delicious... and even better, because I had a cute boy buy me them."

He smiles. For the first time since he stepped foot in the Barrel, Wylan thinks he might actually be happy.

They walk the last two streets to the Slat in comfortable quiet as they eat. Every few bites, Jesper either lets out an inappropriate comment or noise, apparently unable to bear the silence for more than a minute at a time, and Wylan giggles at his jokes like a child.

When they reach the wonky building for the second time that evening, it's even louder than before. There's a mismatched group of men outside the front, clapping each other on the back and drinking out of hip flasks, so Jesper guides Wylan into the empty alleyway that runs parallel to the Slat.

Wylan's heart strikes against his ribs, creating an electrifying percussive rhythm. If Jesper had led him into a dark alley this morning, he would be terrified for a different reason, but looking up at him now, all he feels is excitement.

Jesper leans closer, their bodies inches away from each other. Wylan's back presses against the brick wall. All he can see are Jesper's plump lips, so close he can feel his breath on his cheek.

"Is this alright?" Jesper whispers.

Wylan answers the question by surging forwards to kiss him. It's an explosion; a bomb detonating in his heart. Jesper wastes no time in kissing him back, cupping his cheek with one hand and leaning the other against the wall so they both remain upright.

They break away after a few seconds to breathe, and the world narrows down to the two of them. Jesper's grinning like a fool, and Wylan's cheeks ache from matching his giddy ecstasy. He knows, in that moment, that he's wrecked. No man will ever invite fireworks into his heart quite like the sharpshooter in front of him.

"I think," Jesper says, panting for breath, "that we should take this inside."

Wylan has never agreed to anything faster in his life.

*****

Wylan's deal with Kaz was supposed to be a one time thing, but he was an idiot to ever believe that. His job at the tannery doesn't pay a living wage for apprentices like him, and busking with his flute in the evenings only brings in enough kruge to keep a (rather leaky) roof over his head. He's surprised he even lasted a month.

Kaz asked him when he last ate, and all he could think of was the poffertjes he'd shared with Jesper. He'd eaten since then, of course, but the loaves of stale bread and pickled herring aren't worthy of remembering.

More phosphorous bombs, and a package large enough to blow up a building. He didn't dare ask what he's planning to use it for.

At least he has a free place to sleep while he's on a job for Kaz. The workshop bed isn't as comfortable as his old one was, but it's akin to sleeping on a cloud compared to the stained, paper-thin mattress of the rooms he's been staying in. Besides, he finds the background noise of fizzing and bubbling relaxing.

Kaz left with the explosives an hour ago, so he's moved onto the phosphorous bombs. If the Darkling is sensitive to light, he change the equation to make them more powerful, just to be certain he isn't—

"Hello? Anyone here?"

Wylan glances up to find a man he thought he'd never see again standing on the stairs of his workshop.

"Oh. Hi." His fingers fumble and he nearly drops the vial of chemicals he's holding. "I—I wasn't expecting you." If he had been, he would have worn a jumper that isn't singed.

"And you are?" Jesper asks, drawing out the last syllable.

"We've..." No. It's probably best if he doesn't remember. "Uh, Wylan."

"No, I mean why did Kaz have us meet here?"

He places the vial down on the table, trying not to acknowledge his disappointment. Maybe Jesper truly doesn't remember, or maybe he's pretending to avoid any awkwardness. Either way, he won't be the one to bring up their dinner. "I guess, um, I'm your demolitions man."

"You?" Jesper raises an eyebrow, staring at Wylan incredulously. "You've got all your fingers."

"Well, maybe I'm careful."

Jesper leans closer, speaking slowly as though he thinks Wylan is an idiot. It's the same tone his father used to use with him, and he hates it. "Careful is something you learn from losing your fingers."

The door clangs and Kaz strides down the stairs, his expression even more terrifying than earlier.

"So, this novice is telling me that he's our new demo man. Raske is better. Or even Pim!"

Kaz glares at him, clearly not in the mood. "And yet Wylan is the one I hired."

"Shouldn't you be graduating university and, I don't know, starting a desk job?"

That has never been a possibility for Wylan. But, just as he opens his mouth to refute Jesper's condescension, the door opens again and Inej and another woman join them.

"You're here," Kaz says. Wylan recognises the look on his face; it's the same way he felt in that alleyway with Jesper, when the whole world narrows down to one person.

"With our new Heartrender," she says, and then they're launching into the plan and he doesn't have time to mourn his not-quite relationship.

*****

Pairing Wylan with Jesper is a choice born of practicality, but he can't help but suspect Kaz knows more than he's letting on. He tries to focus on the task at hand, his eyes flicking between Pekka's driver and their horses.

Jesper sticks his head through the gap, intent on distracting him.

Wylan goes on the offensive. "A rat-catcher carriage?" he says slowly, dragging out each word. "I thought you said you got this from a friend?"

"Friend-ish," Jesper corrects. "She did manage to remove the rats, so there's that." He pauses, and Wylan can feel his breath on his neck. "How do you know Kaz?"

So much for trying to steer the conversation away from this."I can't honestly say that I know Kaz. He asked me to make a few phosphorus bombs for him. I didn't want to."

"Why not?"

Because Wylan didn't want to become a criminal. Because he wanted to use his skills for good, not to wage war on the leader of the Second Army or the king of the Barrel. Because he didn't want to draw any attention to himself.

"Because I knew he'd use them for something like this," he says instead. It's still true.

That being said... "Did it work?" he asks, glancing back at Jesper. The only thing worse than a reluctant demolitions man is a reluctant demolitions man whose bombs don't work.

"Oh, it worked." He sounds genuinely impressed. "Not many people can go up against General Kirigan and live to tell about it. Where'd he find you?"

Wylan refrains from rolling his eyes. "I was apprenticing at the tannery, so I guess he knew that I was good with chemicals."

Jesper frowns. "Tannery? That sounds familiar... have we met before?"

This time, he does roll his eyes. Before he can jog Jesper's memory, they land on two officers dressed in a purple uniform. "Stadwatch," he warns. Jesper ducks inside the carriage and Wylan waits until the two men are out of sight before telling him the coast is clear.

Jesper pokes his head back through the hatch, grinning, and Wylan sighs. What is he doing here? Why is he allowing Jesper to forget him?

"Thank you," Jesper says, a little quieter than before.

He takes a deep breath. "I know that you're not thrilled about being paired with me, but you should know that... you can trust me."

"To be clear, I trust you 'cause Kaz trusts you."

He tries not to take that as rejection. "And you trust Kaz?"

"Listen," Jesper says, sounding mildly offended. "I'm not about to dissect my long-standing working relationship with Kaz Brekker with a total stranger."

Wylan turns a full 180 degrees to check whether he's serious. Ghezen, he really doesn't remember, does he? He can count the number of people who have seen him naked on one hand, but Jesper can't even recognise a man he had a dinner date with.

"Eyes on Pekka's driver," Jesper says.

He turns back to the street, the realisation stinging more than it should. They were never destined to be more than a one-night stand and he's a fool for thinking otherwise. It's a good thing he left before Jesper woke up.

Pekka's driver takes a sharp left turn and Wylan forces himself to focus on the task at hand rather than his depressing love life. "He's rounding the corner."

"Follow him."

They turn onto the same street, but Pekka's driver is gone. Wylan tugs on the horses' reigns, bringing them to an abrupt stop.

"He's... he's gone." It's as if the carriage disappeared into the mist. He looks back at Jesper, searching his face for answers and trying not to panic. "He's gone."

"This isn't right," Jesper says, as if that isn't obvious.

Then, the shooting starts.

*****

Before Wylan moved to the Barrel, he never had to pay much attention to keeping himself alive. Beyond meeting his basic needs, the biggest threat he faced was choking or tripping down the stairs.

That has changed drastically over the past few weeks.

Pekka's driver led them straight into a trap, which means the others are in as much danger as they are. But even though he's terrified and could be only a few seconds away from a gruesome death, all he can think of is the way Jesper is lying on top of him.

Once again, his brain feels like it's on fire. Chemical reactions pop and fizz at the close contact and he can't tell whether his heart is pounding from terror or attraction.

Jesper looks down at him, their noses brushing against each other, and for the first time he really sees Wylan. "Wait, we have met before, haven't we?"

"Yes, but—" He's interrupted by another spay of bullets which has him clamping his eyes shut and leaning closer to Jesper.

"You brought me stroopwafels!" Jesper says, grinning the same way he did the night they met.

Wylan stares at him, wondering whether one or both of them have lost their minds. "You remember that now?"

And then Jesper is saving him, and he falls all over again.

*****

By the time they near Black Veil, some of the adrenaline is wearing off.

"You left those stroopwafels behind," Jesper says, as if it's much more important than them both nearly dying.

"I know," Wylan says. Leaving early is a coward's choice, but picturing the smile on Jesper's face when he saw he left him breakfast eased his pain slightly. "You would enjoy them more than me."

Jesper smirks. "You're adorable, you know that?"

Wylan blushes. "I might need you to tell me again."

Maybe their relationship isn't doomed after all.

[sissytobitch10seconds]

The Worth of a Man

Fandom: Grishaverse: Six of Crows Summary: Wylan has been told that he has a calculable worth for as long as he can remember. That kind of thing is hard to shake off. Warnings: Sickness, vomiting, thoughts of self harm, insecurities, and mentions of canon-typical child abuse Word Count: 4,804 Ship(s): Wylan Van Eck/Jesper Fahey/Nina Zenik/Matthias Helvar/Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa

Archive link!

A/N: It's finally Wylan's turn! I went back and forth on what I wanted to happen during this fic but I finally settled on this plot specifically because I wanted it to be well connected to the other fics in this series. Serious trigger warning for my other emetephobics: I get pretty explicit with the vomiting scene in this so maybe proceed with caution if that could trigger you. Thank you all so much for reading and I hope that you enjoy! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone &lt;3

They didn’t do big jobs anymore. 

It wasn’t that they didn’t have the resources and the capability to do whatever they wanted, serious jobs included. They had more money and resources at their disposal than they ever had before. Inej was given quite a few gifts and sponsorships from both Wylan and other members of the Merchant Council that gave her the ability to continue to sail while also handsomely paying the crew that traveled with her. Kaz had bought up more farms and more buildings around and inside of Ketterdam to make himself his own little empire. Jesper had gotten in good with some of the other Grisha and some of the people that had traveled from Novyi Zem, which meant that they also had some ways to contact people in the world’s most peaceful country if they had to get out. Matthias and Nina both had pretty strong ties with the Ravkan government because of the work that they had done for them over the years.

They had plenty of resources and people at their fingertips, not just because of Wylan’s position but because of everyone’s. They had stopped doing jobs because they had so many resources that they could use. It meant that they didn’t have to put their necks on the line outside of what they thought was necessary. They had still done a few things when they were younger and their old wounds didn’t hurt them as much as they did now, but they were few and far between.

That was why it felt like such a big deal when Kaz came into Wylan’s music studio with that scheming look on his face. It was the same one that he had when he had come to Wylan the first time, after they had met up in the back parlor of the Crow Club. He was able to recognize it on his husband immediately because it was the first time that he had ever felt fear and arousal mixed together in a way that most likely wouldn’t kill him.

“What’s going on, handsome?” Wylan asked as he set down his flute and looked up from the song that he had been writing.

Just as he had been expecting it would, the pet name got a wonderful flush to spread over his husband’s face. It had been long enough since they had gotten married that he knew why it made him so flustered as well. Wylan loved being able to get his husband the gender euphoria that he so desperately deserved and the nickname was the best way for him to do that. He also loved taking Kaz apart with masculine words and praise, both of which got him so flushed and made him so happy even if he wouldn’t admit it.

“Love?” Wylan asked again when it became apparent that he had broken his husband’s brain. He reached out so that the tips of his fingers were grazing just barely against Kaz’s bare hands, which made his eyes flick up from the floor where he had been staring.

“Right,” Kaz nodded. He stepped forward and their palms were touching, which let Wylan know that it was a good day. 

“What did you need?” Wylan asked as he stood up so that they were facing each other properly. Kaz had the nicer cane that Jesper had made for him as a wedding gift, which usually meant that he was doing business of some kind.

“I need you to make me some packages,” he replied.

It was both exhilarating and disheartening to hear those words. Despite his marriage and the work that he had done with the Crows and the Dregs since he had taken over the Van Eck estate, he had tried to keep his fingers and head out of the criminal circles so that he could keep the place that he had on the Merchant Council. It had been at least a year since he had made any kind of explosives for Kaz since they had gone with a more subtle take on their work so that they could evade stadwatch more easily. 

He thought that he had disliked chemistry and the only reason that he had gotten into it was to please his father, back when he had first been making bombs for the Dregs. The longer that he went without doing it, the more that he realized he desperately wanted to. Some sick part of his brain, the part that he had tried to shove down when he was still thinking that he could be a good son, liked the thought of holding that much power in his hands and watching everything all burn down.

He had missed making bombs for his husband, he missed the rush that it gave him, the power that he could hold in his hands when lighting a fuse or mixing a new solution. He was worried that something was going wrong if Kaz was asking for explosives, but he was so excited to be able to make them again.

“What kind of thing do you need?” Wylan asked. He wove their fingers together as he shifted so that he was leaning against the piano that he had been sitting at before. He didn’t need to take his weight off of a bad leg in the same way that Kaz did, but he liked the way that his husband would look at him when he put himself on display like that.

“I need something subtle. Do you remember the fire that you made to take down the Shu after the Ice Court heist?” Kaz immediately replied. His eyes had taken on that dark tint that they always did when he was beginning to plan. It made Wylan want to kiss him.

“Of course I do,” Wylan replied with a little laugh and a nod. It was something that he had been immensely proud of, especially since he was struggling with his feelings for his father and the change in his features at the time. It was also something that had saved one of his partners, which made him feel all the more powerful.

Kaz kept their fingers threaded together and their palms pressed flush as he walked the other man to the piano bench that Wylan had been occupying before their conversation. He sat them down so that their legs were brushing against each other and they were sharing body heat. It had been such a long time since they had both shied away from the thought of touching each other, Kaz because of his haphephobia and Wylan because of his apprehension around casual intimacy. He was happy that they could have that with each other, years into their marriage and after so much healing and time.

Once they were sitting down, the Barrel Boss continued, “I need something like that. The job isn’t something that you have to come along with unless you want to watch your handiwork. I need to take care of a slaver house that I found.”

“You’re going to get the people out first, right?” Wylan asked. 

The other man laughed, which made his heart flutter in his gut. “Of course I am. We’re going to be doing the job while Inej is here. She and Roeder are going to work together to get all of the people out and keep the slavers in there before we light the place on fire. Jesper is also going to make a couple of keys and hide them in the cell so they have a chance to get out. We’re hoping that if any of the younger people doing this have been pressured into it then they’ll realize that this won’t fly and change their ways.”

It was like his wife was speaking directly through his husband, Wylan realized with a stifled grin. He leaned his head onto Kaz’s shoulder and stared at the notes on the sheet he had been writing on. His mind was already whirring with the formulas and compounds that he was going to have to secure and make so that he could complete the task. This was something that he had missed, the exhilaration of testing the explosion and experimenting with ways to improve it. He was also desperately looking forward to the adrenaline-shaky Kaz that he would get after the job was finished.

---

Wylan had been holed up in his office for what felt like days. He was working on the job that Kaz had requested of him so that he could have it done by the time that Inej got back. They were on a bit of a time crunch, though not nearly as bad as they had been when they were trying to take down Jan and Pekka Rollins. He just had to make sure that he had the allotted number of bombs ready by the time that the Wraith docked back in Fifth Harbor.

That was beginning to prove to be more of a challenge than he was expecting. 

He was able to remember exactly what he had done the last time that he had made the long-burning fire and they had even more money and resources that they had before to get the things he needed. The only problem was that he seemed to have picked up the bug that was traversing its way through Ketterdam. He knew that some of the younger members of the Merchant Council, the ones that interacted with their children and had ones that were in school, had been feeling poorly recently. He had been so sickly as a child that he had half assumed that he had already had whatever it was and wouldn’t fall sick.

He had apparently been very wrong about that. It had started out as a sore throat, like he had been talking in his sleep or swallowing too much during breakfast that morning. He was able to pass those symptoms off as allergies from the large apple trees that were blooming outside of his workshop window. Then it had increased so that even when he wasn’t doing anything his throat still ached. He drank more water in those two days than he had in a whole week to try and soothe the feeling so he could better focus on his work.

He had been sleeping in his workshop to try and get the work done faster so he could give it to Kaz on time. It was something that he had a bad habit of doing, something that his spouses had been trying to break him out of for a very long time. It was the reason that he didn’t have a desk in his private room the same way that Kaz did, because he would inevitably spend the entire night bent over ledgers while doing calculations. When he was working on something for the Dregs they were more lenient about it since they knew that he would sleep to avoid blowing off his own fingers, but he was still quite bad about it.

He woke up on the third day with his body feeling like he had just gone ten rounds with Kaz’s cane. His very skin ached in a way that it hadn’t since he had gotten the flu at ten. His joints felt stiff and uncomfortable from sleeping tensed up and he had a headache brewing in his left temple. Despite the way that he felt, Wylan passed it off as something that he had gotten from not sleeping enough and continued with his work. He had to get it all done or he was going to disappoint his partners, and he couldn’t bear that thought.

It only got worse as the day wore on. He began to feel a little bit sick to his stomach and when he stood up too quickly his vision would swim. He could feel the headache in his temple growing so that it almost felt like a vice around the entire top of his head. The sinuses behind his eyes and above his cheekbones were so painfully packed with mucus that he actually had to compress them during his morning break so that it didn’t feel like they were going to burst anymore.

By the time that the noon sun was streaming through the windows in his workshop, he knew that he was sick. It was impossible to deny it when he felt as crappy as he did. He was tired and his skin hurt, his joints were stiff and his headache felt like a throbbing knife scraping on the insides of his skull. He had no appetite and desperately wanted to be in the arms of one of his partners.

He didn’t give himself any respite, he knew that he couldn’t. What he was doing was too important to his partners for him to take a break from it, even for a minute. He had to complete the task that Kaz had assigned to him. He couldn’t take a break, even for a day, even though he felt like waking death.

Memories were beginning to plague him as he fell deeply into the autopilot function that he found took the place of his bones when he was working. He had made enough packages that once he had gotten through the main mathematical part of the process, he was able to let his mind wander.

He remembered when he had felt like that back when he was a child. His mother was always so kind to him when he was sick. She would take him away from his tutors and tuck him down in his bed with the heavy winter quilts that would make his fever-shakes stop. She would brush her hand over his forehead and take his temperature every half hour. She would feed him spoonfuls of honey in the middle of the night and then help him chase away the texture with cookies she had snuck into his room. She wouldn’t even complain when he got vomit on her black Mercher’s dress, she would just pet his hair and soothe him through the gags.

All of that had changed after her supposed death. Wylan still got sick relatively often, the constant catching of bugs had only stopped when he turned fourteen and had allegedly caught everything that someone wouldn’t die from. He had tutors and nannies that would tend to him since his mother was no longer able to. When he was sick enough that he wasn’t actively vomiting, he was dragged from his bed by his tutors and forced to go through with whatever treatment his father had picked for his affliction that month. He was given concoctions that tasted horrible and did nothing for him. He was told that he was worthless and playing it up so that he could get out of doing his classwork.

Eventually, Wylan stopped telling people when he got sick. It was made better when he really did stop getting sick and didn’t have to pretend that he was well. From the time that he was ten to when he turned fourteen, however, he had learned all of the tricks to stop people from being able to tell that he was unwell. His hands on the back of his neck and removing his socks would soothe mild fevers and pretending to embarrass would hide the higher ones. A spoonful of honey would stop the coughs that wracked his chest well enough that he wouldn’t disrupt lessons as long as he could reapply the home-remedy every half hour. No one ever touched him unless they were beating him, so he never had to worry about them feeling the clamminess of his skin or the over-sensitivity making him cry. Vomiting noises could be masked either by doing it into his mouth and spitting it out in the trash or turning on the tap in the bathroom.

Without even realizing it, Wylan had begun to do what he had done when he was sick as a child. He had laid down on his bed during his lunch break and removed his socks. He had also taken off his undershirt so that he was only wearing the sheer button-down. He tucked both clothing items away so that they wouldn’t be found if someone came to join him in his lab. He took his afternoon tea with an ungodly amount of honey so that he could eat a spoonful of the stuff that hadn’t been able to be mixed into the murky liquid. When his stomach actually began to protest from the mucus that he had swallowed, he simply moved the trashcan closer to his workstation.

He had to keep working, he had to finish what he was doing so that he didn’t disappoint his husband and wife. Inej had done so much good work with her crew and her ship. Wylan wasn’t going to throw that away because his body was too weak. 

He had known that he was the weakest link in the Dregs since he had been hired before the Ice Court job. There were other people out there that did demolitions better than him, that knew more than him and had practiced for longer. There were other people out there that had stronger connections even in Kerch. He had only been taken on the journey in the first place because he was the son of the man that had hired his husband. He knew that he was basically useless when it came to jobs and Kaz had only come to him because of the discretion that he offered as the other man’s husband.

He could hear the words of his father in the back of his mind as he struggled to complete the last four bombs that he had been asked to make. It was something that should have been easy, something that countless other people would be able to do. If Wylan wasn’t able to complete the job then there was a very high chance that the others would finally realize that he was useless, too unlike them, and then they would leave.

He wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle that. He had his mother back, but it was different with her than it had been when he was a child. She had changed during her time at the institution and a child had a different relationship with their parent than an adult did. He loved her dearly but it wouldn’t be the same as being held in the arms of his spouses. The idea of them finally realizing that he was useless, fragile, broken, and whatever other words that they would find to describe his ineptitude, only made him feel worse.

The nausea struck towards the late evening when the sun was beginning to set. He had to light the lamps so that he could see what he was doing, but found that he was barely able to look at the chemicals for more than a few minutes before his throat seized with gags.

It overwhelmed him like the current in the canal had after he had jumped to evade his captors all those years ago. He grasped the trashcan just as the heave forced its way out of his mouth. He didn’t bother to try and cloak the noise like he had back when he had guards paying attention to him at all times to make sure nothing was happening that wasn’t supposed to be. 

Matthias and Kaz were supposed to be out on their monthly date. Jesper and Nina were likely sequestered off somewhere in the house, doing whatever it was that they did when they were alone. Axel was a very hyper dog, even though he was wearing down now that he was getting older, so no one would believe him if he was pawing at a closed door he wanted in. Marya would have already retired to bed, so even though Wylan wanted his mother she also wouldn’t be around. No one was going to hear him and come to bother with him, so he was able to get through the gruesome process of vomiting.

His head was almost inside of the trash can as he finished spewing the meager amount of his lunch that he had managed to chew down a few hours ago. The bile and honey mixed together into the most disgusting yellow concoction that he had ever seen in his life, worse than the sticky-bomb that he had made a few years ago when they were taking down another of the gangs.

A knock rang on the door a second later, when he was dry heaving what little was left in his stomach up into his throat. He breathed for a few minutes, ignoring the way that his eyes were watering and how badly his ribs hurt from being sick. “Yes?” he called.

“Wy? Is that you?” Inej asked, the one spouse that he had forgotten. She was going to be the most disappointed out of everyone if he couldn’t get this finished for her. She had done so much work, Wylan had been there to see a good amount of it, and he was going to be ruining it with his feeble immune system.

“Yeah, it is my lab,” he replied. He gagged again, but nothing came up. He was mostly just revolted by the smell and the leftover taste that was clinging to his teeth.

“I’m coming in,” she stated. He wanted to protest against that but he felt too poorly to do anything of the sort. The door opened as she was speaking and she stood with with her hands on her hips and a tight line in her face. “Are you sick or did you ingest something that you weren’t supposed to on accident?”

That had happened with Jesper right after Wylan had started working with them on smaller jobs. It was the reason that he had a curtain between the bed and table he used for napping and taking his meals and his workbench with all of his chemicals.

The lie was resting on the tip of his tongue, pushing its way out of his mouth like the bile had been moments prior. He wanted to tell her that he was fine, that he just needed to finish up some work, but she had already heard him. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to lie to Inej, Nina, or Kaz if any of them asked him. He had to tell them the truth, they just had something about them that dragged it out of him. Shakily, he set the trash can down in front of him and ran a hand through his sweaty curls. He took another deep breath before he said, “I’m sick.”

“Come on, love,” Inej sighed as she crossed the space so that she was standing in front of him.

He shook his head, “I have to finish my work.”

“It’ll be there when you’re better,” Inej stated. She obviously wasn’t going to take no for an answer and Wylan felt too weak to try and bat her away, so he stood when she placed her hands on his elbow and wrist to guide him from the chair in front of his workbench.

“I have to get this done for the job that you and Kaz are doing against that slaving house,” he objected. It was futile and a little bit silly, given the state that he was in. His skin felt so hot from the fever that he had barely acknowledged before. He was shaking like a leaf and his body was caked with sweat, he was obviously not in the right place to be doing chemistry.

“Love, we would much rather you be in good health than to have the plan go off without a hitch or having to change the plan,” Inej replied gently. She led him all the way out of the room and towards the staircase that would put them right into the middle of their personal living quarters.

“But-” Wylan tried.

Inej cut him off before he had even got the sentence all the way out of his mouth. “The person who’s making this plan is none other than Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel. He pulled off the Ice Court heist with nothing but the anger towards Pekka Rollins and greed towards thirty million kruge, he can figure out a way to teach those slavers a lesson without having you wear yourself down to the bone.”

He felt the exhaustion seep even heavier into him when he heard that. His eyes were sagging slightly and he was slowly becoming aware of just how awful he felt. “You’re right,” he finally conceded.

“Inej is right about a lot of things, what’s she right about this time?” Nina asked as she wrapped her arms around the other woman’s hips and tucked her head against Inej’s shoulder.

Wylan should have noticed that they were approaching before they were there, but he was so sick that he hadn’t. That mean that he startled when he realized that Jesper and Nina had joined them in the hallway. Jesper took his hand from Inej and then brushed his other against Wylan’s cheek, “You look awful, sweetheart. Do you not feel well?”

“I feel like shit,” he mumbled, finally letting himself admit what was happening. He leaned forward so that his heated forehead was pressed against Jesper’s cool overcoat.

“Yeah, we’re getting you in a cold bath. You feel like you’re burning up,” he mumbled. He kept their hands linked together as they walked down the rest of the hall towards their large master bathroom. 

Wylan was so tired that he dozed through his partners taking care of him, to the point that he barely even registered anything other than the change in temperature and texture on his skin. He felt blissfully, finally peaceful when the cool water and ceramic of the tub washed over him. He was dressed in a pair of his loosest smalls and a linen shirt usually reserved for those miserable days in summer when it was too hot to live. He was then moved onto the big bed in their master bedroom despite the fact that he was likely to get them all sick if they slept with him.

---

When he woke up next, he felt a lot better than he had before. His stomach still felt a bit sour and his throat was killing him, but he was no longer as hot and sensitive as he had been before. He turned his head to look out towards the rest of the bed since he was on the edge with a bowl just in case he vomited again. Inej was nestled between Jesper’s legs with a book in her hand. Nina was sitting with her legs thrown across their laps while poking away at her new embroidery project.

“Look who’s finally awake. How do you feel?” Nina asked when she noticed that he was watching them.

“Okay,” he rasped.

“I don’t think you’re going to be well for a while, you sound like me,” Kaz said as he and Matthias appeared in the doorway. Axel boofed and then jumped up onto the bed so that he could lay down at Wylan’s feet. He had obviously been taken on a walk recently to get out some of his near endless energy. 

Matthias walked over to the bed and checked Wylan’s temperature by pressing their foreheads together. “You’re going to be alright, this sickness if very similar to one I got as a child in Fjerda. Rest and soup is what you need,” he instructed softly. He then leaned down and whispered into Wylan’s ear, “Kaz has been pacing around the house and threatening to call Healers since we got home. He is very worried about you.”

Wylan looked out towards his husband and noticed that Kaz was still dressed like he had been when he went out on a date despite it ending hours ago. “Come cuddle?” he asked them both, which got an immediate response from them both. Soon he found his head pillowed by Kaz’s good leg with Matthias stroking his hair, his hand extended out over the aforementioned Fjerdan’s lap so that he could hold Jesper’s hand. Nina’s feet were on top of his shins and every so often he felt Inej reach over to briefly touch his arm.

He still felt awful, but there was a different kind of warmth blooming over his skin. He hadn’t felt that well taken care of when he was sick since his mother had been his primary caretaker. He should have known that his partners would have wanted to protect and keep him healthy because they loved him for more than just what he could offer them.

[jeremysknoxes]

i would like to inform you that the peppa pig fic is not the only crackfic i have written, me and @nothingbetterthanrevenge have written a katthias crackfic as well :) i'll put it here bc why not but it is also not finished

Matthias was sent on a mission to find lost Grisha in Ketterdam when he met Kazoo Dazzle,a (emo)tionally constipated gang leader. At first, they hated each other and Matty thought he was seeing things when he first saw Kazoo because he's so pale he looked like a ghost. Then Kazoo revealed he goes by Kaz and because it sounds close to cheese Matty hated him even more.

Matthias went to eat at Sten’s Stockpot and ended up feeling very sick. He vomited on a tree and felt very ashamed of himself and Kaz sees him vomit. At first, they started arguing and then Kazoo said he wasn't disgusted at the vomiting but at the vomit on the tree. Matthias was shocked to find someone with the same respect for trees that he did. After Matthias went to eat at Sten’s Stockpot he felt violently ill. He collapsed on the floor. Kazoo saw his face turn green and ran over. Kazoo asked Matthias what he had eaten. He told him about Sten's stockpot. Kazoo realized he's dying and grabbed cheese out of his glove and fed it to Matthias. Kazoo saved Matthias’s life. 

Matty developed a taste for cheese because of Kaz, and because Kaz= cheese, Matty fell in love. But because Kazzy hadn’t realized he’s not just straight he worried he was sick when he saw Matty. They ended up becoming friends because of the cheese. Eventually, Kazoo and Matty realized that they're gay for each other, but Matty didn’t accept it because of his religious obligations and Kazoo didn't accept it because he's supposed to be big, bad, and scary.

Kazzy started showing his "friendship" in little ways, like giving Matty cheese perfume and cheese flavoured crack and Matty reciprocated his feelings, by gifting Kazoo a life-time supply of cheese gift card. Then, Jarl Brum found out and because he hated cheese, he decided that Matty should be killed. Kaz found out about this and he shoved Matty behind some cheese crates. They confessed their love for each other.

Kazoo and Matty go on the run where they found work in a cheese factory. Eventually, neither Kazoo nor Matty could deny their chemistry. so, on the day they both had a day off in the cheese factory, Kaz decided to propose to Matty with a cheese ring. Little did he know that Matty was planning the same thing. They both went down on their knees, and proposed to each other with all their coworkers watching in disgust because the cheese smelled a bit bad. The cheese was moldy. Kazoo and Matty journeyed to Shu Han where everyone tried to kill them and they found new cheese. Everyone tried to kill them because that cheese was sacred and the two of them stole it and ate it all. Kazzy and Matty decided to go back to Ketterdam where they found Wylan. Matty immediately ran off with him because Wylan managed to make Jarl Brum like cheese. Kaz was heartbroken, and he vowed revenge. 

Kaz returned to Ketterdam, vowing revenge on Wylan and Matty. He rebuilded his reputation,slowly building up trust one Dreg by one Dreg, until the Dregs became the strongest gang in the barrel. Meanwhile, Wylan and Matty made it to Novyi Zem, where Matty and Wylan realized their differences and go their separate ways. Matty decided he didn’t like the warmth and realizes his true love for Kazoo, and he regretted his impulse decision. Wylan decides to take a job on a local farmer’s farm, who moved here from The Wandering Isles many moons ago. The farmer’s name was Colm Fahey, and he was a widower. His son Jesper is extremely impulsive, and a very talented shooter. Wylan saw him and immediately had a crush on him. On the other side of the ocean, Kaz started to scheme for Matty’s “punishment”. Everytime he smelt moldy cheese, he had to stop and go to one side to stop the tears from leaking out. When he thought of cheese, he had to bury his face into a pillow. Matty was also not faring very well. When he looked at a tree, his posture immediately slumps, thinking of Sten’s Stockpot, until the memories overpowered him so much that he can’t hold it back and starts sobbing. Vowing to make things right with Kazoo, he booked a ticket to Ketterdam to go see Kazoo Dazzle.

Kaz, learning about Matthias coming back to Ketterdam, ordered three barrels of moldy cheese perfume, to remind Matty of the love he lost. Matthias was extremely anxious on the bus ride over, and brings with him a moldy cheese ring. He dreamt of reuniting with Kazoo and begging for an apology. When Matty arrives at the docks, Kaz was there, waiting for the boat. Matthias, upon sighting Kazoo, immediately was filled with anxiety.

Upon seeing Matty, Kazoo immediately was filled with anger and hatred. He couldn't believe that he 

fell for that Druskelle who ran off with a merchling at first sight. Matty, sensing the tension, shows his moldy ring. Kaz's expression tensed. He snapped his fingers and immediately, 10 Dregs popped out of nowhere and proceeded to squirt moldy-cheese perfume all over Matty. Pushing his hair out of his face, Kaz said, "You should have thought before running off with that dyslexic fool. How could you, Matty? I... I thought our love was real! I... I thought you actually accepted me and my cheesy tendencies!" Tears started pouring out of Matty's eyes (but that could be because of the perfume). He told Kazoo that the moment he and Wylan landed in Novyi Zem, Wylan ran off with a farmer's son. That made him realize how very dear Kazoo was to him, and how what they had was real.

Out of nowhere, Jarl Brum walked out, munching on a cracker with spray cheese on it. He froze. Matty notices that his former mentor wasn’t doing well, and that his eyes were a slightly tinged yellow. Cheese yellow, he realized. Jarl’s face was full of white cheesy powder, and he hadn’t brushed his hair in ages. Jarl screamed “GET THAT ROGUE MATTY!!” Kazoo and Matty instantly ran off and hid behind a bush. They heard Jarl bark out orders, screaming to his druskelle to go this way or that way. Kazoo and Matty, while Jarl was distracted, darted out and fled to the barrel. “What did you do, Kazzy? Why does Jarl look like that?” Kazoo explained. “Jarl Brum got addicted to cheese crack, which had the unfortunate side effect of making him look like he was made out of cheese. Now, cheese crack is a part of the druskelle training process. Fjerda has changed it’s name to Cheeseda, and the entire nation is slowly turning into the biggest producer of cheese.” 

Matty felt a mixed emotion that was a cross between revulsion and happiness. “So.. Fjerda is no longer banning cheese?”

“Cheeseda, actually, but yes. Cheeseda has declared the law banning cheese extinct.”

Matty felt a huge sigh of relief. “So, Kazoo. I…”

Kaz shut him up. “Matty. Why did you run away? I thought we were in love!” Matty explained all the cheese crack and how as soon he and Wylan had arrived at Noyvi Zem, they had realized their differences and parted ways. “I love you, Kazoo, but I love the cheese even more!”

Kazoo gave Matty a side eye and then started to laugh. Kazoo gave Matty a side eye and then started to laugh.

The laugh was not one that Matthias had heard in days prior. It was a sinister laugh, one that was carefully calculated to be the perfect amount of evil and cold. But yet, he detected a twang under the laugh. Was that pain? he wondered. Kazoo, still with that twinge of pain, chortled out one more laugh, and finally said something to Matty. 

“Don’t we all love cheese?” he said. “No, what I’m more upset about is the fact that you kazually ran off and broke my heart with that mercher’s boy! Oh, I know Wylan and his father very well, and I know where he is now. I have contacts in other countries, Matty! In fact, Jesper Fahey is a dear friend of mine. We met when I went to Novyi Zem.”

“For what?”

Kaz’s smile looked pained. “Cheese crack. The Dregs are one of the biggest exporters.”

“Ah.” 

Now Kaz looked close to tears. “I TRUSTED YOU! I gave nearly everything I had except for my cheese stocks, and you gave me nothing. NOTHING.” 

“Kaz- wait- KAZ!” 

“DONT KAZ ME!” Kazoo yelled. 

“KAZOO! I only ran away to find this!” Matty knelt on the ground and pulled out a mouldy cheese ring.

[jeanmoreaux]

Hi!!! Sorry for this question, I haven’t read SoC in a while™️ and I wanted to ask what makes Kaz and Wylan kind of similar in your POV? Cz I remember him looking up to Kaz in some sort of way but not that they were specifically alike 😂 pls help this aging fan, I’m just curious!

oh, i'm happy to share some of my thought on what i mentioned in this post about regarding wylan as somewhat of an alter to kaz! i'd love to give you some exact quotes and page numbers, but i sadly don't have the time to go back to the text and search for all the details. consequently, my claims will be rather broad and you might have to make up your own mind, on a re-read, if you (dis-)agree with my thoughts on the matter.

first, it's important to mention that, for me, wylan embodies many of the qualities of who we assume kaz rietveld was. he's honest, earnest, a little sheltered, has a firm moral compass and generally believes in kindness/goodness. he's then—quite violently—thrust into this new life, left all alone with no one to lean on. interestingly, both their "rebirths" are closely related to water (there is sure something to be said about the symbolism of water as something cleansing and its important role in baptisms.... also the implications of almost drowning but ultimately making it to shore. it's like a shared metaphor.)

They both then cleverly adopt personas to survive ketterdam's streets and distance themselves from their pasts. and here is were a lot of differences in their circumstance and environment come in. kaz's only option is to "toughen up" and turn into "the bastard of the barrel" & dirtyhands. wylan, on the other hand, continually makes himself out to be this naive ingénue in the criminal world (even way past beyond the point that's true) to fly under the radar. the thing is, since wylan falls in with the crows and has people like kaz around to do the "morally dirty" work, he gets to hold on to many of his qualities that kaz had to lay down to survive. kaz didn't have someone to do that for him.

((wylan occasionally makes some offhand remarks that hint a potential for violence, or at least an awareness of necessary violence, but he's never actually forced to act violently to save or protect others. there's not really a reason for him to suppress his empathy completely. it's clear, though, that if push came to shove he could stomach what the situation throws at him and deal with it. he's not a delicate flower, but compared to kaz he's lucky enough that he doesn't have to repress his natural tendency for kindness.))

Both characters are also intelligent and curious (they need so understand how things work) and they use that as a way to work around their individual weaknesses (kaz's issues with mobility & wylans dyslexia). for both of them, their intelligence is probably their greatest asset. they also both like a puzzle (mainly because they enjoy the process of solving it). generally i'd say their minds work much alike, which we see especially during the planning and execution of the plan to steal jan van eck's seal or when wylan deciphers kaz's cryptic infos that lead him to his mom—it's just that wylan usually doesn't use his faculties for crime. this also this is also somewhat hinted at by inej (and jesper) in ck when they're hatching out some plan and she goes like "wait, wylan, is that a scheming face?!" which is very much an expression for a look that has only ever been brought up in connection with kaz before that point. an interesting detail, that doesn't have to mean anything but is worth mentioning, is the fact that kaz often trusts wylan with more details than the other crows. whether that be to receive some input or just have a second person look for holes in his plan or out of necessity or some other reason is not always clear, but it definitely means that kaz values wylan's talents and mental faculties.

oh, and ofc wylan is probably just as cunning as kaz when he wants to be. they both can read people motives and intentions pretty well while being skilled in concealing their own (think: kaz in almost every situation ever, also think: wylan's kuwei stunt in soc or his spiel towards the end of ck). wylan's various tricks he uses to divert attention form his dyslexia fall in this cunning behaviour as well, i'd say. like, he knows exactly how to hide that he can't read but at the same time get people to help him without them even noticing (pretending he's too new to an area to understand written direction or claiming he can't read someone's handwriting, not knowing sufficient fjerdan to complete the writing on the map, etc.). if i remember correctly not even kaz figures it out, wylan has to tell him about it.

[kazs-new-hat]

headcanon that kaz does not like lizards. at all.

he'd be working at his desk or whatever and see one skitter across the wall and decide to go for a walk

jesper: it's? storming outside?

kaz: and?

won't admit to being afraid of them, wont even acknowledge their existence

inej, who obviously is the only one who really knows: just a heads up, i saw a lizard in the kitchen

kaz: i don't know what you're talking about of course there are wizards in the kitchen, that's common knowledge

and jesper, who probably really likes reptiles but isn't aware of kaz's aversion, brings him a gecko he found outside

jesper: i'm going to name it godzilla brekker

kaz, trying to escape: why brekker?

jesper: it looks just like you. look at that scheming face

one time during Family DinnerTM at wylan's place, a lizard found its way across the dining room ceiling, and kaz just got up and left without a word. jesper and nina blamed each other, claiming the other had "finally done it, you've broken our old man" . and kaz is just in the living room casually flipping through whatever coffee table books wylan and jesper would display

probably something with lots of pictures of reptiles

[cameliawrites]

Hi can you do a kanej fanfic where one of them is sick and the other takes car of them? :)

(For reference, this takes place after this fic but before this fic.)

Inej is certain that her months on the sea—months she is gloriously immersed in constant sunshine and fresh ocean air—have done wonders for her health. Compared to the shaky, perpetually underfed body she tried to escape each night at the Menagerie, and even compared to the battle-bruised body she’d worn ragged for the Dregs, she feels stronger now than at any point since she was training daily for the high wire.

In fact, she has taken so well to life on the water that a mere three days into her crew’s winter shore leave in Ketterdam, her body airs its protests by contracting the worst cold she’s had in many years.

She goes to bed at the Van Eck mansion with the slightest soreness in the back of her throat; by the time a noise jolts her awake in the dark, early hours of the morning—probably one of the housekeepers relighting the fire downstairs, she reassures herself—the soreness has progressed to burning pain, her head is pounding, and she can hardly breathe out of her congested nose. 

Quite unfortunately, given the current state of her health, Inej isn’t entirely sure how to care for herself while sick. Back in the caravan, she’d always had her parents to dote on her. Her father, Kolhat, had made her hot, spiced tea for her throat; her mother, Shanta, sang soft, sweet lullabies to soothe her back to sleep. At the Menagerie, Tante Heleen simply sent for a healer (with the bill to be added to Inej’s own indenture, as always) rather than let a girl miss a night of work. 

The only instance that Inej caught a small cold while working for the Dregs, she tried to ignore it outright. When she met with Jesper and Kaz to prepare for a job they’d planned that night, though, Kaz noticed her ailment almost immediately. Inej wasn’t aware she’d been swaying on her feet in front of his desk, the congestion in her sinuses upsetting her normally impeccable balance, until Kaz called her out. “Are you sick?”

The expression on his face had gone dark. Inej was sure he was furious at the prospect of his schemes going to waste. “Just a cold,” she tried, but Kaz had seen enough. 

“Go back to your room, Wraith,” he’d ordered, and when she moved to protest, he ground out, “If I see you trying to work again before you’ve slept this off completely, I’m pulling Roeder for the next three jobs instead of you, understand?” 

She had darted back to her closet of a room without replying, trying to swallow her hurt at the threat. But she supposed that if she didn’t at least try to rest and recover, she risked getting so sick that Kaz would have no choice but to find some other spider to do her job while she couldn’t. 

Just try to relax, she told herself, curled beneath every threadbare blanket she owned, but sleep eluded her for the next half a bell, until Jesper knocked on her door to bring her hot, cinnamon-sweetened porridge and some of the awful cheap tea they kept stocked at the Slat. It wasn’t anything like her Papa’s spiced tea, but she drank it gratefully anyway, focusing on the familiar scent of cinnamon in the porridge—and even if Jesper couldn’t offer her Suli lullabies, she let him recount tales she’d heard a thousand times of his early heists with Kaz until she drifted off to sleep. 

A good day and night’s sleep had been enough to set her to rights back then, so Inej supposes it’s worth a try this time around. Instead of darting out the window to catch the misty sunrise from atop the Church of Barter, as she usually would, she simply burrows deeper under the covers and waits for Jesper or Wylan to come wake her later in the morning.

As it turns out, it is neither Jesper nor Wylan whose voice is calling out her name when she finally comes to. 

“Inej,” he says, and the rock-salt rasp could only belong to one person. Kaz. 

She saw him last at dinner, of course, but his sudden presence in her bedroom has her rushing to sit up and look at him. A little too fast, she thinks, and lets out a small groan as a wave of dizziness and the resurgence of the pounding conspire to overwhelm her head.

Nearly four years since first meeting Kaz, she can now firmly place the expression on his face (one of his rarest expressions, but she’s likely the only person alive who has noted them all). He’s worried. His hands atop his cane—currently gloved, although she doesn’t mind; their progress isn’t strictly linear—are gripping the crow’s head with severity, and his probing gaze is fixed unrelentingly on Inej. 

(She thinks, dazedly, for a moment to try to adjust the tangle of hair atop her head, but then thinks better of it. She likely looked much worse after scaling the incinerator shaft at the Ice Court, and he’d seemed quite enamored of her then.)

“Are you okay?” he starts, unable to keep the words darting from his mouth. Then, as though to justify his appearance here, he continues, “We were supposed to meet at the docks this morning, remember?”

“Oh,” she says blankly. In all honesty, her migraine-addled mind hadn’t remembered the plan when she was pulled awake early this morning, but she seems to recall it now. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Kaz. I slept through it. I’m—”

“You’re sick,” he finishes, just the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth, despite the shadowed fear in his gaze. “I figured as much, when I saw how red your nose is. And your voice just now confirms it. You sound like Jesper when he does that awful impression of my voice,” he teases. 

One of her hands darts self-consciously toward her nose as though to shield it from view, but he catches her fingers in his own, swift as a sleight of hand, and squeezes affectionately. Inej gazes in increasingly-familiar wonder, for a moment, at their hands clasped together before looking back up to his face. The smirk slips from his lips as her weak grip reignites his worry.

“Is there…is there anything I can get for you? Anything that would help…a healer, perhaps?” 

“No!” she blurts, wrenching her hand from his grasp. He steps back automatically, hand raised in a defensive posture, and watches her catch her breath for a moment.

“I didn’t mean to…” he starts, but he doesn’t know exactly what he’s apologizing for. Moving too fast? Offering too much? Stifling her, scaring her, caring more than he deserves to?

But Inej interrupts before his self-deprecating thoughts can spiral further. “No, no, it’s not your fault. I just…” She swallows, sniffles—and whether it’s from the sickness or from the heartache she has to carry every day, she doesn’t want to contemplate. “Heleen used to bring in healers when we got sick at the Menagerie. So I just…no healers, please. Not for this.”

He nods once, decidedly, and Inej is thankful that she doesn’t have to explain any more. The trepidation has finally lifted from Kaz’s face, but in its place is cold fury—far more dangerous in Kaz Brekker than flaming rage in any other man, so Inej acts quickly to distract him from violent fantasies about Heleen Van Houden. 

She speaks in the language he knows best: she offers him a kind of job. “Do you know if there’s anywhere around here that sells spiced tea?” 

She thinks he’s probably on to her ploy, but he bites anyway. “I have one or two ideas. Will you go back to sleep while I’m gone?” 

She sinks back down to her pillow and nest of covers dutifully. “The deal is the deal, Kaz.” And the warmth that fills her chest when she catches his small smile, granted just for Inej as he limps back out her bedroom door, feels enough like safety that she drifts away with ease.

When she wakes again, it’s to the scent of ginger tea and cinnamon porridge, which Kaz is delicately placing onto her bedside table. She’s already halfway through her porridge when the thought occurs to her.

“Kaz,” she begins, and he looks up from the desk across the room where he’s working. (“Jesper and Wylan can manage my care just fine on their own,” she had protested as he pulled papers from his bag, meaning to settle in for the day. He’d scoffed. “From what I saw this morning, Jesper and Wylan are barely managing not to blow up the basement of this house at the moment. I’m staying.” Of course, she was really quite pleased.)

“That time I was sick at the Slat, who got the cinnamon porridge for me?”

“Jesper,” he shoots back too quickly, and she beams triumphantly.

“How would you know what Jesper brought to me in the privacy of my own room? Unless you asked him to do it.” 

He scowls dismissively, looking back down, but she can see the blush reach the tips of his ears, so she tilts her head back and laughs brightly at her discovery.

“I was overcome by an uncharacteristic bout of pity given how ill you looked,” he finally shoots back, but there’s no bite to it. 

Inej tries to suggest that “I must look terrible now for you to deliver the porridge yourself,” but Kaz won’t have her spouting such a blatant falsehood.

“You look lovely,” he tells her, genuine as ever, ears as red as her nose—but he can’t be bothered about it, not when her eyes widen in joyful surprise and she looks more alive than she has all morning. 

Inej ducks back under the covers, shyly—Did he really not mind about my nose?—but she’s feeling very little of the cold.

“I love you!” she calls to him, voice muffled by the layers of blankets, just to be sure he remembers.

“Drink your tea,” he laughs. (And maybe her brain is still foggy with sickness, but she thinks it must be her favorite sound in the world.)

Later, as he adjusts her pillows and kisses her forehead, he murmurs “I love you” back, as always, and Inej thinks she’s starting to feel quite healed.

[fics-n-stuff]

Deep Breaths

For @inquistitorebony, see request here

Pairing: Kaz Brekker × Reader

Summary: Y/N's anxiety gets the best of them on a job, but thankfully Kaz knows how to handle it.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Panic attacks, brief violence, fake blood, explosions

A/N: Ahh I'm so sorry this took me so long to write!! I had writer's block and I thought I was getting out of my slump but then it just got so much worse again. I had to try so hard to get this finished and I genuinely can't tell if it's good or not, so I really hope you enjoy it 🤞🏽❤

You knew the plan. At least, you thought you knew the plan. You could never be sure with Kaz. Regardless, you were in place where he’d told you to be, weapons concealed in your outfit and Jesper at your side.

“This is crazy. You realise this is crazy, right?” You said, peering around the corner of the alley to get a view of the bridge and the crowds of locals and tourists alike.

“Everything we do is crazy.” Jesper replied with a smirk. “That’s what makes it fun.”

Sometimes you had to wonder how you ended up here, working for Kaz Brekker of all people. The answer to that question was that Jesper had dragged you into it, but then came the question of how the hell you and Jesper had become friends in the first place. That answer was more complicated.

The university of Ketterdam was where your parents had sent you to keep you out of trouble, to get an education so that you could do something useful and conventional with your life. Unfortunately for them, you only succeeded in getting yourself into trouble. Jesper had been the root of that. He was the one who had encouraged you to join him and a group of students on that first night out in East Stave.

You’d managed to stay in university longer than him, but the pull of adventure that the Barrel offered eventually got the better of you. When Jesper fell in deep with the gambling halls and turned to Kaz and the Dregs, you had followed after him for no reason other than the thrill. Which was strange, considering the immense anxiety that you carried through life.

Jesper had questioned it at the time, and sometimes continued to question you on it, but you couldn’t explain it to him. The type of thrill that your exploits with the Dregs provided wasn’t the type that triggered your anxiety, generally speaking. Talking to people was your weak point, fighting or stealing from them was usually fine.

Kaz had been skeptical about you at first, but Jesper was adamant that he should bring you onboard. It wasn’t long before he came to see that you certainly had your uses and you worked in a team, especially with Jesper at your side. He never mentioned your anxiety, but nothing slipped past Kaz. He definitely knew even before he had witnessed the full effect of it, and you had noticed long ago how he tended to keep you off of jobs that might cause you to panic.

“I see the signal from Nina.” Jesper said, eyes on a flash of light coming from a window up the street. “Get ready.”

“Born ready.” You smirked.

“I’ve been rubbing off on you. I’m not sure I like what I’ve created.” He commented, and you rolled your eyes.

“Distraction time, Jes.” You said, bursting a capsule of fake blood between your teeth and slamming another one against you chest before stumbling out of the alleyway. Your nice, white shirt now had a fresh red stain, blood running down you chin, and you looked just like a well-to-do tourist who had run into the wrong crowd.

“Help!” You heard Jesper shout in Zemini right behind you, and eyes began to turn in your direction. “We’ve been attacked!”

“Somebody get help!” You followed up in a fake Zemini accent, which Jesper had earlier remarked upon as being scarily accurate. It was right then that the stadwatch patrol that you had been sent out to distract in the first place rounded the corner. “Guards! Help!”

The stadwatch turned to the source of the commotion, and rushed immediately over to you. That was something that they wouldn’t do if you were dressed in your regular Barrel attire.

“In Ghezen's name, what happened?” One of them exclaimed. Jesper began rambling in Zemini, doing a very good job of acting frantic with his hand on the tailored bruises around his eye and over his cheek. You caught a glimpse of Kaz emerging out of the next street down, completely unnoticed thanks to your distraction.

“Do you speak Kerch?” A guard asked you after being unable to get anything helpful out of Jesper.

“Yes, yes I speak Kerch.” You answered, straining your voice as if you were in pain. “They came out of nowhere, attacked us and stole our things.”

The guard reached out to move your shirt, and you let out a scream of pain to deter him. It worked and he jumped back, eyes wide and afraid.

“We need to get you to a medik.” He said quickly, and you nodded. You turned to Jesper and recited the Zemini sentence that you had practiced all morning, just incase an onlooker happened to actually be Zemini.

“Give me some help, I can't walk like this.” You said. He nodded, shaking his arm out of the grip of the other stadwatch guard and reaching out to pick you up. Practically effortless with all that farmer’s strength.

“Alright, follow us.” The guard said, but as he took the first step there was a deafening bang and a huge plume of smoke from the street around the corner.

Perfect timing, Wylan.

Panic overtook the street, the stadwatch guards turning their attention from you to the smoke rising over the buildings. They started shouting to the people around, trying to keep them calm.

Another blast sounded, and now people were running. Jesper set you down, and you patted over the pistol concealed in your jacket just in case.

“Let’s get moving.” Jesper said, as quietly as he could for you to still hear him over the commotion. You nodded, your heart beating fast as people stormed past you. You didn’t like big crowds, and there were more people here than it had initially appeared. There was a handkerchief in your pocket, and you took it out and wiped the fake blood off of your face.

The two of you began following the flow of the crowd, when suddenly there was a flash of light and a cloud of dust flew towards you as another blast went off up ahead.

That wasn’t part of the plan.

Your heart jumped and your breathing immediately quickened as the people who had been running that way now pressed back towards you. Jesper grabbed your arm, seeing the panic that was beginning to fill your eyes. The explosions weren’t creating any damage, just a loud bang and a lot of smoke, but these people didn’t know that and they wanted to get as far from them as possible as fast as possible.

“We’ll go around.” Jesper said, tugging on your arm to pull you after him as he made a beeline for the nearest alleyway.

Your heart was pounding in your ears as you let Jesper drag you through the alley onto the next street across, which was just as crowded with panicked people. He pulled you along behind him as he wove through the crowd towards the rendezvous point, your mind spinning and your chest tight. You didn’t even realise that you were there until he pushed you back against a wall and moved you to sit down on the ground.

“Hey, Y/N, look at me.” He said, a firm hand on your shoulder. “Deep breaths, okay?” He turned to look over his shoulder at Kaz and Wylan. “What happened? Why was there a third explosion?”

“Things didn’t go exactly according to plan.” Kaz replied. “We had to prolong the distraction to get away.”

“I always keep extra equipment on me; I gave it to Inej and told her to set it off further up from the bridge if we ran into trouble. It was the best option we had.” Wylan added.

“Right, well, tell that to Y/N's anxiety.” Jesper huffed.

“Jesper, you and Wylan have to keep going.” Kaz said.

“What? Look at Y/N, I’m not leaving-"

“Now, Jesper, or all of this has been for nothing.”

“But Y/N was supposed to come with us.” Wylan fretted.

“You’ll make it work. Now go, I’ll deal with Y/N.”

“This is my best friend, Kaz.” Jesper said, leaving your side to approach Kaz, practically squaring up to him. “This isn’t a problem you can solve with planning and scheming, this is a serious human issue and you don’t have a great record with those.”

“I have it handled, Jesper.” Kaz responded firmly.

“Go, Jesper.” You spoke up, elbows rested on drawn up knees, your chest rising and falling heavily. You nodded. “I’ll be fine.” He looked at you, concern on his face, but eventually sighed and nodded back.

“Alright.” He said, stepping back over and lightly patting your head comfortingly. “Come on, merchling.”

Jesper and Wylan moved on to the next step of the plan, leaving you and Kaz alone. He took a seat on the floor against the wall opposite you in the small space, his bad leg outstretched in front of him and his cane resting across his lap. You looked at him, the edges of your vision still blurry.

“I apologise for not warning you ahead of time.” He said after a moment. “I should have accounted for the fact that such a surprise would have a negative impact on you.”

Kaz was generally cold – unaffectionate and pragmatic – but you had a suspicion that he’d always secretly had a soft spot for you. He was considerate of your feelings; he was even almost nice to you when nobody else was around. You quite liked the Kaz that you got to see. It was different to the Kaz that Jesper always complained about.

“What could have possibly given the impression that I was impacted negatively?” You managed to joke, but you choked on your laugh as your body desperately tried to fill your lungs.

“Hey, look at me.” Kaz said before you could start hyperventilating again. “Put your knees down, open up your chest.” You complied, and your body thanked you for the action as some of the strain in your chest alleviated.

“Sometimes I wonder why the hell I put myself in these situations.” You panted.

“I did warn you against it, but you seemed determined to follow in Jesper's footsteps.” He replied. “You’ve made a pretty good go of it regardless. Hold your breath for a second, you’re still breathing too fast.”

You followed the instruction, drawing a deep breath and holding it in your chest for a few seconds, and when you let it out your breathing was slower.

“This is stupid.” You muttered. “I should be over this by now, it’s pathetic.”

“No it’s not.” Kaz said plainly. “It’s something you’ve experienced for a long time, it’s not just going to go away.”

“No one else let’s their problems get in the way on a job.”

“That’s not true, it just happens differently. You still have some fake blood on your face by the way.” It would be dry by now, no point trying to wipe it off with a handkerchief, so you simply shrugged.

“What does that mean, ‘it happens differently’?”

“If you pay close attention you’ll notice.” He answered vaguely. “Though, I know you’re very aware of the hurdle that the gambling halls pose to Jesper. That’s caused some trouble on jobs in the past.” You chuckled lightly, nodding in agreement.

You sat in silence for a while, focused on evening out your breathing. Kaz wasn’t good at dealing with emotions so you would expect that he wouldn’t be very good at dealing with your panic attacks, but actually his straightforward approach was pretty effective. Maybe his voice was just so commanding that even your anxiety couldn’t help but do what he said.

Generally, Kaz acted like the panic attack wasn’t happening. Just like today, other than to give you an instruction to calm you down he would just talk to you like he normally would. It was usually helpful, a good distraction or something like that.

There was one time, however, that Kaz had been more worried about you than you had thought was possible. It hadn’t been on a job, just a normal night at the Crow Club. You had been trying to drag Jesper away from the cards table when a fight had broken out. Being a member of the Dregs, and so technically a sort-of employee of the gambling hall, you had stepped in to try and break it up.

You weren’t intimidated by the fact that one of the men was at least twice your size, you had held your own against that before, and knowing that there was security that would step in soon had you assured that all would be fine. But when you placed a hand on one of the men’s shoulder – not the big guy, one of the other men in the fight – to try and stop him from going towards the man he had decided was his enemy, he had turned on you with such speed that you had no chance to defend yourself before his hand closed around your neck.

Your memory was a little spotty from that point on. You remembered being slammed against a wall, maybe even lifted off the ground. Jesper drew his gun, and you’re sure that if shooting customers wasn’t so frowned upon that he wouldn’t have hesitated to fire.

It didn’t last long. His outburst had effectively ended the fight that had been taking place and turned the attention of every assisting party to you. The man holding you had been taken down by a few swift hits from the hulking Dregs member that Kaz liked to have as security, and by that point Dirtyhands himself had been drawn out of his little office in the back by the commotion.

To hear Jesper tell it, it was like your body hadn’t realised that your airway was no longer being compressed and you just weren’t really breathing. Kaz had instructed Jesper and the security guard to get you up and into the back office before demanding an explanation from the person closest to him.

You didn’t see Kaz break the man’s hand with his cane, but you remember hearing the scream.

Once it was just you, Kaz and Jesper in the office, Kaz’s demeanor changed instantly. Not that you were really cognizant enough to notice right away, but Jesper wouldn’t shut up about it for a little while. What had seemed, while out on the floor of the gambling hall, just to be a Barrel boss squashing a disruption to his business and doling out payback on behalf of a friend turned into seething rage, which in turn became a constant look of concern as he intently watched Jesper coax you to start breathing properly.

Jesper had business to attend to later that night, so after a while it was just you and Kaz sat in the office. He fetched you a glass of water and sat with you until you were feeling better, never taking his eyes off of you. You had told him about your anxiety, but until then he had never seen it in full effect.

Since that day he had been more in tune with that part of you, learning how to tell when you were having a bad day and remembering what kinds if things made you panic. If he caught you when your anxiety was spiking he would stay and just talk to you. It was nice of him.

“Sit up straight.” Kaz said, and you were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt the tip of his cane pressing gently against your shoulder. You realised how far you had curled in on yourself and leaned back against the wall. Kaz had drilled it into your head that opening up your posture would help you breathe better, but sometimes you needed reminding anyway. “How are feeling?”

“Better.” You mumbled with a slight nod.

“How are the edges of your vision? Still fuzzy?”

“A tiny bit.” You answered, trying not to smile at the fact that he remembered how your vision went fuzzy when you had a panic attack. “If I ask you a question, will you answer me honestly?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you bother with me?” The question had been weighing on your mind for a long time, but in the past few weeks it had felt like it had been pressing for you to actually ask. You thought that Kaz liked you, but at the same you couldn’t think of a reason for that to be true.

“What do you mean by that?” Kaz asked, his head tilting a minuscule amount and his brow furrowing ever so slightly in curiosity.

“I mean, why do you keep me around? Why do you bring me on jobs? Why do you bother learning how to take care of me? Maybe at first it was for Jesper's sake but surely that can’t be the case now, so why?”

Kaz watched you for a moment, folded his hands in his lap and cleared his throat.

“You’re a valuable member of the team.” He answered matter-of-factly. “You work well with others, you’re a fast learner, you seem to genuinely enjoy being a member of the Dregs most of the time. As for why I’ve learned to take care of you, well, what kind of a leader would I be if I didn’t? You know me, I like to know everything that there possibly is to know when it comes to my business and my team.”

“Right.” You nodded. “That makes sense.”

“You don’t like that answer.”

“What?”

“I know you well enough to know what your face does when you’re unhappy.”

“I’m not unhappy.”

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N. What is it that you wanted me to say?” His question made you feel suddenly quite embarrassed, and you averted you eyes with a shrug.

“I don’t know, I guess I just thought that maybe you actually liked me. You know, as a friend.” You mumbled. You glanced back at Kaz long enough to see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards.

“If I told you that I liked you, would it make you feel better?” He asked. He wasn’t being sarcastic or mocking you, but you still became even more embarrassed.

“Forget about it, it doesn’t matter. I’m feeling much better now so we should probably start moving-"

“Y/N.” Kaz interrupted, and you froze mid-motion of standing up. “I do like you, but I don’t have friends.”

He moved to stand up, and you finished getting to your feet. You watched him use his cane as leverage to get up off the floor, and if it had been anyone else but Kaz you would have offered a hand to help him up.

“You do too have friends.” You replied with a tiny smile. “You, Jesper and Inej are a trio of best friends if I’ve ever seen one.”

“I thought Jesper was your best friend.”

“People can have more than one best friend, Kaz.”

“The more friends you have, the more leverage your enemies have against you. That’s why I don’t have any.” He stated, taking the first step. You assumed that you would be heading to where he was supposed to meet Nina and Matthias. He was late – just how late you weren’t sure, the passage of time alluded you during panic attacks – but they probably weren’t all too worried.

“I think you just tell yourself that we’re not your friends so that you feel better about having a weak spot.” You said, teasing slightly. “Do you like me as much as you like Jesper?”

“I like you more than Jesper. You’re less of a thorn in my side.”

“Aw, Kaz! That’s so sweet.” You smiled. He scoffed.

“I take it you’re feeling better?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good.”

“Can I ask you one more question?” You inquired, and Kaz sighed before humming an agreement. “Do you maybe like me for a different reason than that I’m less annoying than Jesper?”

There was a beat of silence, and Kaz inhaled.

“I enjoy having you around.” He answered vaguely, but you could see in his eyes in the sidelong look that he gave you that it was deeper than that. You smiled, satisfied and not needing to push.

“Good. Me too.” You muttered, and the two of you continued walking, side by side.

[moonlitmeeks]

do you wanna build a snowman? - wylan van eck

summary: wylan van eck: demolotions expert, resident flute player, and snowman extraordinaire

warnings: none

words: 494

a/n: i luv wylan so the fact its the first time writing something for him makes me :D i'm not the biggest fan of this, im aware it ends so abruptly, but i hope you like it<33

winter was a time for simple, innocent fun in your eyes. gone were the burdens of adult responsibilities, thrown aside to make room for overly sugary drinks and childish games in the name of festive cheer.

even kaz brekker couldn't justify performing elaborate heists over the holiday season, allowing you all a few weeks off to do whatever you desired. he claimed he could use the scheming time, anyhow.

it was the prospect of some childlike fun, of which you were deprived of in your younger years in ketterdam, that had convinced wylan to join you out in the cold, snowy courtyard, hidden away from the rest of the barrel. it was a sight, the two of you bundled in numerous colourful layers, paired with fabrikator made gloves to prevent your fingertips from turning to icicles.

the pair of you worked quickly, wylan’s cheeks ruddy with exertion as you both laboured over the large ball of snow intended to act as the first ‘layer’ of your creation.. it was an impressive size, coming to around your mid-thigh, and you would have liked to make it bigger had it not become too heavy to roll comfortably.

as you moved to begin the next snowball, wylan held up a hand.

“give me a second,” he panted faintly, placing his hands on his knees as he allowed himself a brief moment of rest.“i need to get my energy back.”

you rolled your eyes good-naturedly, but didn’t deny his request being relatively tired yourself. it was ironic; fast-paced heists were no problem to either of you, but building a snowman apparently proved too strenuous. you’d like to blame the cold, but you’d be lying.

“okay, i’m fine, let’s go.”

at his words, you both sprung into action, combining your efforts to create a lump of snow just a little smaller than the first. with a lot of cursing and struggling, you finally managed to place the ball on top of the first, then produce another final ball to function as a head.

hands on hips, you stood back and marvelled at your triumph, exchanging over compensated compliments of just how brilliantly the other had worked.

a trio of small, black stones were pushed into the snowman’s torso, the deep colour intensified by the stark white snow, whilst several more made up a wonky face. jesper had managed to steal a knitted hat for you to place atop the snowman’s head, yet failed to find you a pair of gloves.

“could’ve stolen kaz’s gloves.” you remarked, eliciting a spirited laugh from the boy next to you.

“oh definitely, certainly wouldn’t have any negative repercussions for us.”

"mm, maybe if you or inej were the ones to take them." you mused.

wylan raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"inej, you mean. anyone else and he'd have their head."

you murmured in agreement, nudging his shoulder playfully with a grin.

"c'mon then. we need to hunt for some twig arms yet."

like i say, it's short but sweet, but since wylan is my fav crow, i needed to write something for him

wylan van eck taglist; @wlfstxr @lxncelot @ms-heartbreak-queen @teen-years-suck

december drabbles taglist; @just-cass @wrathspoet

six of crows masterlist !

december drabbles masterlist !

[morganayenneferburnham]

Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33661984/chapters/83654680

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker's crazy schemes.

Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?

Word count: 2k

A/N:  So I wrote my first fic! Hopefully at least one person likes it! I just posted the first chapter today. The second one should follow somewhat soon ☺️I’m currently writing the third chapter!

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes

Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?

Y/N couldn’t quite believe it. She had been a fan of him for years. Asking for the latest news on the voyages of the Volkvolny and its captain every chance she got. They were legendary. When Kaz had told her a few days prior that Sturmhond was going to be with them for a job she had barely been able to contain her excitement. Now, she was mortified. How could she work with a king?

Had she not been standing next to Kaz during the meeting she’d never have believed it.

“How long have you known, Kaz? I mean, I know you’ve worked with him before but…” her voice trailed off in a question.

“I figured it out when we first met.” His mind traveled back to that day. Meeting the privateer by the Geldrenner hotel’s baths, just a few years ago. They had been trying to save Kuwei Yul-Bo, a Shu inferni who’d had the misfortune of being the son of the fabrikator who created Jurda Parem, making him the most valuable hostage in the world. They had auctioned him off, faked his death, and gotten revenge on Jan Van Eck all at the same time. “The king of Ravka wouldn’t just let anyone represent his country in important matters. The fact that he always travels with at least one member of the Triumvirate doesn’t help him keep his identity secret either.” He scoffed. “He really should stop doing that.” Kaz sounded almost… annoyed?

“I take it you’ve given him that particular piece of advice and he didn’t listen?” She smirked. “Though, you know, I’m glad Zoya Nazyalenski tagged along. She is even more gorgeous than I thought.”

“He never listens. Almost as stubborn as you.” He huffed. The glare he gave her would’ve been enough to scare most people, however, she was not most people. She considered Kaz family, and she knew that Kaz did too, in his own way. They had both lost siblings to the city after all. She had joined his crew a few months after they had lost Matthias and Nina had gone back to Ravka. He had needed a new corporalnik and she had made fast friends with Inej, Jesper, and Wylan. As much as Kaz had tried to keep the young tailor at arm’s length, she had found a way to worm herself into his cold guarded heart. His look softened before he continued. “You should steer clear of her. She’s just as icy as she appears. Wouldn’t want you to get your heart broken before the job.” That was his way of showing he cared.

“Don’t worry, Kaz, I’m not looking to marry her. Maybe she’d be open to a bit of fun?” She laughed, throwing her long auburn hair over her shoulder, and made her way back to Jesper and Wylan down the corridor.

---

A few days had passed since they’d met with Sturmhond. He and Zoya had temporarily moved into the slat. Kaz had been cooped up in his office, wearing his scheming face most of that time. Everyone could tell Kaz’s plan was going to involve multiple steps and deceptions.

Since they hadn’t been working any other jobs, the crows had been left to their own devices for the first time in months. Kaz occasionally called on them for their expertise, but they had a lot more downtime than they were used to. They had taken advantage of it to get to know their new teammates. Y/N had mostly struck out with Zoya, though she had managed to make her laugh a few times, to everyone’s surprise. Maybe with more time, she’d have a small chance with Zoya? The young grisha had also tried to wrap her head around the identity of her favourite privateer. She now found herself sitting in Kaz’s office, Jesper and Wylan on her right and Sturmhond and Zoya on her left. Kaz looked all business, so serious she feared he’d give himself an aneurysm.

“I need you to tailor him. Once you’re done, you’ll tailor yourself.” Kaz nodded in Sturmhond’s direction sitting behind his cluttered desk, hands resting on his crow’s head cane.

Y/N looked up at Inej who had been sitting at Kaz’s window. “May I ask why? Hasn’t he already been tailored?” She gestured to the privateer before returning her hand to her lap. “He doesn’t look like the king of Ravka.”

Kaz rolled his eyes. “Why must you always question me?” He sighed. “Yes, he has been tailored, nonetheless, he is too easily recognizable as Sturmhond. I need you both to look like rich Kaelish merchants. It shouldn’t be too hard for you?”

“Of course not. You know there’s nothing I can’t do, Brekker.” She replied in Kaelish. She softened her tone before continuing in Kerch. “I’m simply asking you to share your brilliant scheme with us mere mortals” Her voice was laced with sarcasm. Inej stifled a laugh. It looked like the Suli girl couldn’t help but smile at the other’s antics.

Kaz groaned. “Fine, I’ll share my plan for the job. It’d be easier if you just listened. I’ll explain it once so pay attention – Jesper!” Poor Jesper jumped on his chair. He’d been staring at Sturmhond since they’d all entered the office. Y/N couldn’t blame him. The privateer did have an inexplicable charm despite his tailored features.

“Yes, Boss!” Jesper straightened in his chair and sent an apologetic look to Wylan.

“Alright, to pull this one off we’ll need blueprints that can only be found in Gert Van Verent’s safe. He keeps his office under lock and key – ”

“Wait, you want us to break into a councilman’s house, again? Why can’t you do it Kaz? You’re the best at picking locks.”

“Well, if you hadn’t interrupted me” he was glaring daggers at her now, his eyes the hue of bitter coffee “you’d know that two guards are posted outside his office, at all times” he’d emphasized the last part and raised a hand to stop Y/N from interrupting him again “and his windows are protected behind steel bars.” Y/N nodded once slowly indicating she was willing to listen with no more interruptions.

“Van Verent is throwing a party in the hopes of finding his eldest daughter a husband. Being a devout Kerch merchant, he is also using the occasion to find new business ventures. The party is our window of opportunity. That-” he gestured to her and Sturmhond “is where you two come in. Ainsley and Eoin Ó Ceallaigh, newlyweds from the Wandering Isle, looking to extend your exporting business to Kerch. I already secured your invitation” Y/N felt her jaw drop. No sound came out. All she could do was stare at Kaz. He had finally lost it. He wanted her and the king of Ravka to assume false identities and pretend to be married? Dirtyhands had gone mad.

Wylan was the one who voiced her concern. “Kaz? I know Y/N’s a talented tailor and well she is Kaelish so that part’s covered but, well, um, no disrespect Sturm-, Sir? Your Highness? But, um, do you speak Kaelish?”

The king smiled. He looked amused at Wylan’s confusion. He replied in perfect unaccented Kaelish “Call me Nikolai, it will make for less confusing conversation. Of course, I speak Kaelish, I have been educated in 6 languages. I also had a fondness for Kaelish poetry in my youth.”

Everyone seemed to relax at that. However, Y/N could tell she was going to need Jesper’s help to undo the knots in her shoulders later that night. “Kaz? I don’t think I’m that great of an actress… You also haven’t told us how we’re supposed to get the plans if we do get in.”

“Don’t worry darling, I’m sure we’ll manage. I’m talented enough for the both of us” Nikolai winked at her. Nikolai, who just so happened to be the privateer she had admired for years. She felt her cheeks flush. Saints, she thought, this is going to be a nightmare.

“Jesper and Wylan have also been invited to the party thanks to Wylan’s new position on the merchant’s council.” She had never been more grateful to Kaz for overlooking the interruptions. “They’ll cause a distraction, with Nazyalenski’s help, to let you and Nikolai slip past the guards and break into Van Verent’s office.” He stopped and looked at Y/N. “I know you can pick the lock and crack the safe. I trained you myself after all.”

The discussions and planning continued well into the night. Y/N wasn’t convinced it was such a good plan, but everyone else seemed on board so she kept her mouth shut. All she could do now was make sure to memorize all she could before the job. The party was two days away, which didn’t give them much time to learn all they could about their characters. Kaz had instructed Nikolai and Y/N to spend every waking moment working together to make sure they made a believable couple.

Twelve hours in, Y/N was cursing herself for saying she wasn’t a great actress. If she’d only pretended to be confident in her acting abilities, she might have been allowed to take a break from the insufferable king. Well, insufferable might have been a little dramatic but the man loved himself way too much. They had memorized their stories in the first 8 hours and were now being quizzed by Wylan and Jesper while she started tailoring them both, yet the King would not stop flirting with her. He also made sure to touch her every chance he got. A brush of his fingers on her cheek, of his knuckles on hers, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. She knew it was just harmless fun for him. It was driving her completely mad. She just wanted him to take the job seriously.

“How did he propose?” Wylan asked for the third time in the past two hours.

Y/N sighed and moved her fingers through Nikolai’s hair to darken it. “It was incredibly romantic. He had planned a picnic by the lake where we met.” Her cheeks were already starting to hurt from the plastered smile on her face.

“I had all of her favourite foods, of course” Nikolai interjected, moving to softly caress the girl’s cheek.

Y/N had to restrain herself from slapping his hand away. “Yes, even strawberries, in winter! Can you believe it? Once the sun began to set, he dropped to one knee and pulled the ring from the picnic basket with a bouquet of winter roses. I’m so lucky to have fallen in love with such an attentive and caring man.” She turned to Kaz who had been observing them, leaning against the doorframe, and dropped the smile from her lips. “Was that satisfactory, Boss?”

Kaz shrugged. “It’d be better if you didn’t look like you wanted to stab him every time he touches you.”

Y/N released a breath. “Maybe if you’d let me take a break...” her tone was pleading.

Kaz smiled at that. He was finally wearing her down. Giving her a taste of what she’d put him through the last two years felt like sweet justice to him. He liked the girl well enough, but she had a way of getting on his nerves. He took no pity on her. “You’ll keep going until I actually believe you are in love with him.” He left the room with a pointed look at her.

Zoya released an amused laugh. “I’m just glad Nikolai found someone else to bother for a change.” She smiled smugly at Y/N. “Don’t worry, he’s mostly harmless. Just come find me if he gets too handsy, I’ll put him in his place for you.”

Y/N couldn’t believe it. Zoya had definitely sent her a wink before following behind Kaz. Maybe all her flirting had paid off?

“Sweetheart, I’m hurt, you are taking more interest in my general than in your own handsome husband.” Nikolai’s tone was toeing the line between mock hurt and amused.

She turned back to the three men in front of her. “Jesper, please, just shoot me.”

[longlivejasongrace]

about wylan van eck and kaz brekker

ever since i finished the duology i havent been able to stop thinking about the similitudes and differences between wylan and kaz. they certainly look like they should be at the opposite sides of the spectrum and they are but that doesn't mean they dont share some key traits that make them very similar if you care to look more closely.

wylan obviously personifies the role of the naïve member to counterpoint this band of thieves: a boy who grew up in privilege and who has never had to fence for himself until he had to swim for his life a couple of months before the events of six of crows. wylan's firm moral compass doesn't help him integrate to the thug life and only highlights how new he is to this world. in many ways, wylan is just like young kaz: honest and earnest, someone who believes in kindness over greed.

they are both very intelligent characters who are motivated by curiosity. i feel like people forget that kaz rietvield was the one who learned about magic and sleight of hand, not kaz brekker. he didn't try to crack that mystery because he thought it would be necessary or useful, he was just curious. he tries to spin it as a way to show how crooked he is, how he just cant let things go, but it doesnt change the fact that it was a very childish impulse which interested him so much in sleight of hand.

wylan is also very curious, he likes to understand how things work, he needs to understand. while kaz learned just because (at first), wylan uses his curiosity as a way to have more tools against the weakness he sees in not being able to read, a way to balance it out so to speak. since he cant learn via the academic route he throws himself in studying in his own way to try to parse this world which has closed so many doors for him.

you could say, well they're both curious about the world around them, so what? the thing is, the whole question about where the water comes from is how kaz discovers an escape route from the white island. if wylan had been motivated to keep digging he would have probably found the same answer.

expanding on this, kaz and wylan can see the world from the same perspective

it's not something that comes naturally to wylan in the sense that he usually doesnt use his knowledge to do criminal activity lol but they both see things as puzzles, objects to be made sense of.

another similarity: wylan can be pretty ruthless. i feel like people forget this too often

but of course, he wouldn't ever reach the level of cruelty kaz achieves since after everything wylan has a conscience lol (can you imagine wylan throwing someone off a building or taking their eye out with an oyster knife? yeah, i didn't think so. he's not above burning people tho lol)

this is a small detail but i believe it wasn't random, it's another link between kaz and wylan:

wylan is the only other character besides kaz to have a "scheming face". it's not only kinda funny to picture the 'innocent' wylan as some kind of evil mastermind, it shows how wylan does have the potential to be like the current kaz. he definitely has the brain for it

because by crooked kingdom wylan understands how kaz' mind works

(notable how wylan is one of the few who lies to kaz and kaz lets him get away with it. wylan knew it was no coincidence kaz gave that information for free but he didn't have enough context clues to imagine what he would find if he went to Saint Hilde)

his background and what he has learned from the crows also helps him see bad decisions where jesper does not

(what does it matter? because for all intent and purposes both wylan and jesper are outsiders, they didn't grew up in the barrel but wylan understood its laws from being there for like half a year while jesper has been a part of the crew for longer but still keeps a bit of his innocence when it comes to deals)

and wylan is usually the one who gets the most detailed parts of the plans

either from the merch side of the equation:

or the puzzle side:

this is a minor detail but another thing that links kaz and wylan together is jesper. not only because jesper expresses romantic interest in both of them, but because of what he sees in the two of them.

jesper about why he likes kaz:

jesper and how he sees wylan:

in conclusion (im sorry this is so long):

while i wouldn't say wylan is kaz' literary foil, he definitely embodies the impressionable kaz rietveld, just like jesper can be a projection of what jordie would have become if he hadn't died. wylan is very clever but unlike kaz he hasn't lost the things that connected him to his humanity and kindness: his moral compass and his hope for reuniting with his family. Marya Hendricks becomes a powerful motivator after wylan finds her and wylan goes through all these trials and tribulations for her. kaz lost that kind of connection when he was too young and went through a devastatingly traumatic event on top of that to ever be able to recover from it.

(not to say kaz is completely ruthless, he just has reshaped himself so he can supress that natural reflex of helping others. both wylan and kaz are very loyal to the people they trust, even if kaz has to disguise the fact and make it look like every freaking decision is made only to serve himself)

i wish people stopped seeing wylan as this angel who can do no wrong or as a wimpy kid who cant stomach what it needs to be done. it's a disservice to his character because while he is understandably scared through most of the duology, he makes conscious decisions not to lose himself in the violence and the cruelty of the barrel.

honorary mention: all the tricks and ways wylan has picked up to hide how he cant read, like using the fact he's a newcomer to not understand directions, mentioning how he doesn't know enough fjerdan to write the names in the plans he's drawing, claiming he doesn't understand someone's handwriting and many more.

[theburntromantic]

Crows and their favourite Hindu festivals

Jesper - Holi

He loves dancing and singing around the pyre

No one can escape his water guns

He makes it his goal to smear Kaz's face with the most ridiculous colour every year

Nina and him are the only ones who wear white clothes for 'fun'

"I can finish this glass of bhaang within a minute"

"No one asked you to, Jesper"

Wants to be the first person to put colour on Wylan

Wylan - Deepavali

Much to everyone's dismay, he loves cleaning the house together with the crows. Kaz has to be persuaded by Inej to join

He loves lighting diyas and placing them all around the house

He prepares the goodudeepa (paper lantern) with Inej and they hang it over the balcony with Jesper's help

Fireworks.

He's a great cook and loves preparing sweets and the only person who's allowed into the kitchen when he's working is Matthias

Matthias - Janmashtami

That person who climbs the tallest human pyramid to break the topmost matkha while everyone below crushes on him

Heard Wylan playing the flute once and fell in love with it instantly. Now they play duets

Is the only person along with Inej and Kaz to stay awake till midnight

Loves watching the stage plays of Krishna's birth and childhood with Nina

Nina - Navratri

She loves the entire theme and significance of the festival

Follows the colour scheme everyday

Enjoys decorating the house with flowers

Loves Garbha. And expects all the crows to dance with her

Learnt drawing rangoli from Inej and she's a pro at it now

Inej - Dashami

She just loves the atmosphere around during the puja

Quietly sings the bhajan and leads the aarthi

She doesn't need to convince the others to watch the play because they all love it

As the proccesions begin, she doesn't join the crowd below, but follows them from the rooftops

Her favorite part is the burning of the effigies of the demons, which symbolises the destruction of evil

Kaz - Sankranti

The harvest festival reminds him of his life as a farmers' son

Since it's a point to wear black clothes on this day, he loves it all too well

On Inej's advice, he offers diyas to the river

Inej says it would help him make peace with the water, and he loves the sight of her eyes lit up by thousands of floating lamps

His favorite part is the kite flying and he's very competitive about it

His kite is crow-shaped and is always the last one flying

[manikas-whims]

A Tantalizing Surprise

[Read on AO3]

for Kanej Week (@kanejweek) Day 5: Love (domesticity)

It took around eight years and a lot of mutual support to achieve this level of intimacy. But he was glad they never gave up..

• Friend 1: write Inej in a silk dress and some sexy Kanej moment Friend 2: No! Write injured Kaz being patched up by Inej Me: *an unbiased friend* mixes both requests into this fic ~♥ • I headcanon Liddies being a gang run by women :)

Kaz Brekker utterly despised private parleys. Majority of the time they were a farce. Excuses crafted in order to get him alone and put an end to his reign forever. Everytime a haughty barrel boss offered him a drink or a condescending mercher invited him for dinner, it wasn't for the sake of striking amiable business deals with him. But to drive a knife through his rotten heart or shoot a bullet into that scheming head of his.

And yet he had agreed to meet the leader of the Liddies in a small coffee house on the bustling streets of the East Stave. They were stirring up too much ruckus and if left unchecked any longer, they'd embolden every other gang to go against the Dregs. Dirtyhands couldn't let that happen, now could he?

As suspected, no pleasantries were exchanged. The door was jammed shut immediately upon his arrival.

Their lieutenant, a burly, middle-aged brunette, attacked first. She tried smashing her wooden bat into his face but thankfully Anika blocked in time with a crowbar. Two other females followed, swinging rustic metal pipes at him which he managed to counter with his cane. Roeder was struggling on the other side, engaged in a one-on-one with their spider.

"This ends tonight, Brekker." Their leader howled from her perch atop a stool. "Barrel needs a queen."

"Barrel already has one." He responded calmly.

"The little whore? The one who's barely in this city?" she grinned sharply, getting up.

"Careful." His gaze turned steely and his gloved fingers flexed tensely onto the crow head of his cane. "I can gut you and your ladies for insulting my Wraith."

"I'd like to see you try." She sneered, madly lunging at him with her bare hands.

He sighed. This was going to be a long night.

The fight lasted for an hour. Liddies finally ran off when more Dregs arrived on the scene and broke down the coffee house's door.

Kaz dictated his gang to double the security around the Crow Club and his other establishments just in case. He then dug his fingers into his right leg in hopes of quelling a little of the ache there as he dragged himself back to his place. Not the slat anymore but a luxurious mansion on the Geldstraat. He had purchased it under a pseudonym after Councilman Hoede had passed away three years ago.

Blame Wylan for making him waste his kruge on a deadman's house. Though the dark wood walls and coffered ceilings looked amazing upon his first visit, he did get a few things renovated. Such as converting the dilapidated Grisha workshop into an ordinary shed and the addition of wild geraniums to the vast variety of flowering plants in the gardens.

Despite his habits, he pulled out a key that he kept within the hidden pocket on the left side of his coat and swiftly unlocked the large, black, entrance gates. The next few minutes of the long walk through the front stone pavement didn't feel regal, atleast not to his leg. He retrieved another key upon reaching the main doors. It was an odd experience every time— to enter a house this big without utilizing his skills in lock-picking.

He didn't stop to admire the blown glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling or the stolen DeKappel displayed mockingly on the opposite end of the hall. He simply braced himself for the walk up the long staircase leading towards the more private quarters of the mansion.

His steps came to a halt only when he reached the master bedroom. And that too, not because it had been his destination all along but because he felt her presence.

He shook his head in disbelief. Maybe six months of being apart were taking a toll on him, playing tricks with his senses. Or maybe it was just an effect of blood loss due to the cut he'd taken during the fight with the Liddies.

He turned the knob and entered, the room same as ever. A bookshelf tucked in the left corner from the door, a vanity table with a full-length mirror right next to it; a door leading to the balcony and another door to the bathroom on the other end. And of course, the king-size bed atop which his eyes found her tantalizing form, aglow under the golden flame of the dimly burning lone candle.

Kaz regarded her silently. Her lithe frame was covered in a purple, silk nightgown that left barely anything to his imagination. Or rather, it was exactly the sight he envisioned every night. An ideal reverie where he pulled her onto his lap and kissed down the delicious curve of her neck. A fantasy where he relished in her whispers of his name. A fantasy where they did all the unholy things they're capable of now. A fantasy he had been yearning for yet kept locked in the darkest recesses of his twisted mind.

But this was different. This woman in his bed had longer hair and was far more breathtaking than any imagery he could will his mind to conjure. This was real. She was real.

"Saints!" She slid off the bed. "Kaz, what happened?"

Yes, she was real.

And she had chosen an interesting outfit for their reunion.

But it was unusual of her to dock in Ketterdam and not send a runner to let him know. Not to mention, she had somehow managed to sneak into their mansion without any keys.

"You're hurt!"

He scoffed at her concern and proceeded to discard his coat. After all the times they've fought and bled together, she should be used to witnessing him a little roughed up.

He peeled off his gloves with methodical ease and tossed them onto the table. Then he tentatively reached for one of her hands, his thumb stroking along the pulse in her wrist. There was no harm in confirming she was real and alive.

"Welcome back, Wraith."

She freed her wrist, completely ignoring his greeting, and placed her palms over his stubbled cheeks. Fortunately, no waves lapped up his skin. So he let her turn his face this way and that to check for any signs of injuries. When she found none, she smiled in relief and pulled his face down so their lips could meet. His arms immediately snaked around her waist. And he was glad her only reaction was a soft sound of contentment, not tensing or vanishing in his hold. It took around eight years and a lot of mutual support to achieve this level of intimacy. But he was glad they never gave up and worked together to get accustomed to one another's touch.

The contact overwhelmed him everytime, in a good way of course. It was exhilarating to be able to brush his lips against hers. A common gesture for most couples but a very big accomplishment for them. Just like everything else.

Everytime they shed a piece of their armor, touched longer, touched more, they counted it as a new milestone. He was thankful to their patience and to whichever of Inej's saints had blessed them for their persistent efforts.

The kiss deepened with every passing moment, all those months of separation provoking their dormant desires. But as soon as his tongue slid past her mouth, he felt a twinge of pain in his abdomen and broke away. "Fuck! What the hell, Wraith!?"

In trailing her hands along his torso, she had accidentally discovered the cut wound on the left side of his lower abdomen. She glared down at the small dot of blood staining his clothes. "You have absolutely no sense of self-preservation!"

He laughed at the furrow of her brows as she pushed him back until he was seated in a chair. "Takes one to know one."

He heard her huff before she disappeared inside the bathroom and returned seconds later with a roll of bandage, cotton swabs, and a disinfectant.

The blade of the knife had torn past both his vest and shirt but fortunately, barely grazed his skin. The cut wasn't deep or life-threatening, only seeping slow trickles of blood. However, that didn't stop his fiercely gentle partner from worrying. She began undoing the buttons on his vest and in the heat of the moment, he joked. "Someone is eager."

This time she glared at him directly and resumed her task. She was cautious in shrugging off the vest. Even more whilst removing his sweaty shirt.

As soon as the disinfectant-soaked cotton pad grazed his wound, he pressed his lips into a thin line. "Care to explain why I wasn't informed of your arrival?" He gritted out through the light haze of pain. He wasn't mad. But had he known, he would've cleared his schedule for her. Denied that parlay altogether and avoided being injured.

Her hands hesitated in cleaning the blood. "I wanted to surprise you."

Now his brows quirked.

"And was this part of the surprise?" He stared at the thin slip of nightdress snug on the curves of her beautiful body. His voice lowered an octave. "You put this on for me?"

She chewed on her bottom lip, a small action he had noticed her doing when in contemplation. "My intention was to doll-up for the King of the Barrel."

He shook his head, tugging on the hem of her dress. "Seems to me the Queen of the Seas was intent on arousing me with her alluring silks."

She punched his shoulder lightly. "You're bruised and bleeding and this is what you think?"

"Inej," He spoke earnestly, his ardent gaze focused on her as she continued bandaging him, "I always think about you."

"Aside from when I'm out there making money." He added as an afterthought.

She giggled.

He waited until she was done tying the last knot of the bandage to stand up. His fingers disappeared beneath her dress, glided tenderly over the flesh of her thighs in the moment he lifted her up. Her legs naturally came to wrap around his waist and she looked at him. "Kaz?"

He responded with a soft, lingering kiss before pulling back, his breath fanning her lips. "Still in the mood to surprise me?"

She nodded, her eyes averted shyly for once as he carried her towards the shower.