#He spoils Jesper

[undercover-grisha]

Jesper: “You know, sometimes I feel like a little bit of an accessory.”

Wylan: “I can be the pretty face tonight if you want to do the talking.”

Jesper: “…no I just wanted to guilt you into buying me a new hat.”

[ratatatastic]

pregame welcome package of mustamakkara!!! thats what i call spoiling the boys!!!

2024 nhl global series finland game 1 | 11.1.24 (x)(x)

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Espionage" - Kaz Brekker x Reader

SUMMARY: Lord de Witt is throwing an exclusive banquet for socialites - just the perfect opportunity for Kaz to put his hands on whatever the aristocrat has in his safe. Fortunately, being an ambassador's daughter, you can easily smuggle him in but the two of you must pretend you're engaged to avoid suspicion.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 3.7k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<

If Jesper didn’t know Kaz, he’d think he was having a laugh.

“When you said you know someone, I was expecting everything but the daughter of an ambassador.” Then, in a slightly anxious manner, he turns to look at you apologetically. “No offence.”

There is something quite amusing in his uneasiness as though Jesper is expecting to be decapitated for as much as giving you a sour grimace. You’re probably the closest thing to nobility he’s ever been around.

“Worry not, sir,” you reassure him with a polite smile on your face, “I will try my best not to spoil your criminal quality.”

His eyebrows furrow and he leans towards Inej. “Did… did she just call me ‘sir’?” he asks quietly.

“Don’t get used to it,” she answers half-heartedly, busy pondering something else.

“How do you even know each other?” Jesper points between you and Kaz but the moment his index finger is directed towards you, he quickly puts his hand down. “I doubt you’ve been to the Barrel before.”

To any passerby, the sight of you and the Crows standing next to each other must look like a skit. With your expensive, light-coloured dress and back about as straight as a broomstick, you really do stand out like a sore thumb. Are those lowlifes bothering a proper lady or is she perhaps noble enough to offer them a few coins?

“That’s quite right. When my father was fraudulently accused of conspiring against the crown, mister Brekker,” out of pure habit you vaguely gesture towards him, “had been so kind as to solve this perplexing hoax. It is only fair that I agree to help him when he asks.”

Kaz checks his watch. Then, his expression suddenly becomes stern, focused, and you know exactly what it means.

“We should go,” he states. His eyes have a strange glint of both coldness and concealed worry to them. “There’s no backing out now.”

Your polite smile doesn’t falter. “I wasn’t considering such a thing.”

The dearth path around the lawn in front of the manor is blocked with countless carriages - horses of one freight have their nostrils pushed against the rolling stock of another cart. It seems as though Lord de Witt has invited half of the continent to his exclusive banquet. Half of them, one might assume, came out of courtesy or simply because of the other guests sure to attend.

Mixing into the crowd of rich men and aristocracy, choking on the powder and perfume, you tell Kaz the basics of banquets like this:

“Let me do the talking. You’re accompanying me, which among socialites makes you akin to a show horse. Of course, someone might ask you a question but it will be pure courtesy. They don’t actually care, because they don’t know you. Answer shortly and politely.”

“Will it not raise suspicion that the ambassador’s daughter is engaged to a no-one?”

“Not if he’s a First Army veteran, wounded on the front lines by a Fjerdan savage,” you say in a theatrical manner. His perpetual frown elicits a chuckle from you. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m sure you can sell it. Besides, if you seem grim enough, which shouldn’t be a problem honestly, the guests won’t dare ask any more questions.”

The porter nods knowingly in your direction. Despite his old age, he’s quick to recognize the little lady you once were. You offer him the invitation but he waves his hand in dismissal. His fingers tremble slightly, making you wonder in all of your melancholy whether he’d still be able to do all those small magic tricks he used to entertain you with.

Following the mob of guests, you end up in a spacious ballroom. Crystal chandeliers reflect candlelight, causing ethereal rainbows to dance across the frescoes painted on the ceiling. Some of the artwork presented landscapes, other battles and even Saints - all of them equally breathtaking. The hall is filled with a plethora of scents: vertigo-inducing perfume, imported fruits, freshly-cut flowers, braised meats. To Kaz, this is the smell of wealth but to you, the ballroom only smells of home.

Appearance-wise, Kaz falls a bit behind compared to the three-piece suits and cylinders but the difference is not stark enough for people to give him contemptuous glances. In all honesty, this will help you sell the yarn you’re spinning. After all, what veteran has enough money to buy a whole suit for just one evening?

“Come on, we should say our greetings to the host,” you say quietly while gently nudging his arm.

As though you are something of a Grisha yourself, the middle-aged man in question suddenly appears in front of you. His face has gained a few deep wrinkles since the last time you saw him but still, his prominent laughter lines are the first thing people notice about him. Considering what kind of person Lord de Witt is, it’s a reliable first impression - a rare occurrence among thieves and noblemen alike.

The man’s face beams with happiness when he recognizes you, his eyes nearly disappearing in a genuine smile. “Ah, принцесса!” he exclaims, opening his arms. “You’re more beautiful every time I see you.” Holding your hand, he meaningfully leans down but never presses a polite kiss against your skin. Instead, he curtly nods while maintaining eye contact, uneasy at the thought of such a gesture.

“I thank you for the kind words, Lord de Witt,” you answer. “It is a pleasure to be your guest.”

He furrows his eyebrows and dismissively waves his hand. “Nonsense, you’re not just an ordinary guest. Tell me, how’s your father? Is our ambassador in good health?”

“The weather is terrible on his knees, I’m afraid. Only laudanum and nettle curb his pain enough to let him work. If I may inquire as to where Lady de Witt is? I haven’t seen her among the guests.”

Lord’s face grows brighter once again but this time there’s a sense of longing in his tired, grey eyes. “My dear Betty left for Novyi Zem just a few days ago. Ever since Lady de Serre expressed interest in her antique collection, she’s been eager to go back.”

Kaz, so far unnoticed by the aristocrat, glances between you and the man. You’re exchanging mere greetings and courtesies, yet he’s learned quite a few interesting things in just those few sentences. Nobility, as it seems, will say everything and anything as long as they think they’re talking to an equal.

His inquisitive thoughts must have pushed some Saint’s hand because Lord de Witt suddenly turns his attention to him, although continues talking to you. “The dapper young man is your husband, I presume?”

“Not yet, unfortunately,” you say with a bashful giggle - very ladylike, even if forced. “Igor Dreesen,” you introduce him. Kaz shakes the Lord’s hand without ever giving away that he’s never heard that name before. “He has fought in the First Army, on the front lines.”

“You have my eternal gratitude, gentleman.” Lord de Witt has an iron grip on Kaz’s hand, holding it significantly longer than Brekker is comfortable with. “May we all have your bravery and loyalty. Please, enjoy the evening.”

Kaz waits for the Lord to be out of earshot before turning to you. “He seems to know you well.” Maybe you’re reading too much into it or maybe there is a hint of suspicion in his tone.

“When I was younger, I used to come here every week. Valeriya de Witt, Lord’s eldest daughter, taught me embroidery. I know this manor like my own home.”

“Then you surely know where the safe is.”

“It could be in his bedroom or in his office.”

Kaz cocks his head. “So you don’t actually know.”

“I’ve met quite a few noblemen and state officials, Kaz. The older the money, the less we’re careful. De Witt’s office is next door,” you motion your head to the side.

Strolling through the ballroom towards the office door, weaving your way between gold-threaded gowns and made-to-order suits, you can’t help but wonder about the master thief by your side or rather what the world looks like through his eyes. You can recall so many gossip exchanges where a group of complete strangers would discuss their wealth and business, believing that their secrets are safe among socialites similarly to unaffiliated thugs discussing their commissions over a pint of watered-down beer. In a thief’s world, you’re something of an encyclopedia on fast enrichment. Maybe telling a secret or two could be treacherous of you but in the grand scheme of things, you think it’s not nearly enough to cover your debt.

You lean towards Kaz, speaking in a low voice. “See that lady with a scandalously huge hat? That’s lady Maria de Bouvier, harbors so much contempt towards her stepmother, she’d probably be elevated if some of the jewelry was to disappear.”

Brekker spares you a questioning glance but doesn’t say anything. 

“Or that retired soldier by the pillar? Next to the girl dressed in all-white?” you ask him. His keen eye quickly finds the dark green jacket with an obnoxious amount of medals attached. “Captain Geoffrey van der Greiss, earned most of his fortune from smuggling. Open any crate with fish at the Eastern harbors and the sides of the box will be filled with cash. Yours to take if you can bear the smell.”

Kaz suddenly steps in your way, stopping you. His usual frown appears more like a scowl now. “Why are you telling me all of this?” he spits out. “You’re so eager to point me towards easy wealth. It’s not just about returning a favor, is it?”

You look away for a moment - you should have expected that if someone was to notice your motive, it would be Kaz Brekker himself. His face is still contorted into an expression of contempt or anger when your stare returns to him.

“Have you ever, even for a single second, considered what would have happened to me had my father been found guilty?” you ask in a hushed tone.

“I can’t say I have.”

“I often do. He would have been locked up in Hellgate or simply killed. The family fortune would dwindle rather quickly as my mother and I would live off of it. Then one day the money would run out, we’d have to sell our house and live modestly if not on the streets. No one would employ us because of the scandal and soon we’d find our place in a brothel. All of that did not happen because of you, Kaz.” His expression visibly softens, even if he’s doing his best not to show it. “I owe you my life.”

“I don’t want it.” 

Without waiting for you to continue, he resumes walking towards the office door. Although off-limits to the guests, the manor staff is simply too busy to pay attention to anything else other than restocking drinks and food. On the other hand, the guards employed by Lord de Witt are so convinced drunk aristocracy doesn’t need nannies that they’re playing cards in some dark, isolated corner and drawing lots when someone has to go swipe some alcohol and lamb from the kitchen. Perhaps they are paid to complete much different tasks but if someone is familiar with de Witt’s banquets, they wouldn’t be exactly surprised - a scandal is yet to happen inside his manor.

You meet Kaz’s gaze but immediately regret it. There’s something both chilling with determination and burning hot with focus, making you feel rather flustered at the intensity of it all. 

“Make sure no one comes in here,” he says quickly before swiftly crossing the remaining meters and sliding inside the room. For a man with a limp, he’s exceptionally agile.

Minutes go by while Kaz is absent and you begin to worry. What if someone caught him? Or if he got injured somehow? He may be something of an atelier of theft but he’s still a man, after all.

Debating whether to go after Kaz or trust his expertise, you don’t notice a young man approaching you:

“Excuse me, my lady, but you are the ambassador’s daughter, are you not?”

Torn out of your spiraling thoughts, you look up at him with wide eyes. He has a kind face with strong features. His tanned skin is in contrast with his creme-coloured suit, creating a quite enticing sight. Warm, brown eyes study you with interest.

“I am, master…” you make a meaningful pause.

The man immediately picks up on your cue. “Tolkov Ilya Romanovich. My father is the legat of Ketterdam’s Merchants’ Guild.” Contrary to Lord de Witt, Ilya doesn’t hesitate to plant a kiss on the back of your hand.

“Oh, I have heard about you. Horse racing enthusiast, is it not?”

He gives you a flustered chuckle. “My vices precede me, I see. As does your beauty, if I may say so.”

You feel your cheeks warm up. There’s something about Western men’s charm that really gnaws at a lady’s heart. “That’s very kind, master Tolkov.”

“Lord de Witt spoke of you with exceptional fondness. I thought it only appropriate to witness your marvel myself.”

At the same time, Kaz is slipping back through the office door into the ballroom. Judging by the lack of interest he attracts, none of the guests even noticed his disappearance. He is making his way back to you, when he catches the sight of a rather dignified man politely kissing your hand. Although you don’t look swept off your feet, there’s nothing akin to discomfort on your face either. Kaz feels sudden uneasiness in his chest like he’s watching something he shouldn’t be, while being unable to place his gaze elsewhere. He doesn’t even know his face has turned into a grimace of distaste.

“You’re finally back, my love!” you dramatically exclaim when Kaz reaches you and the stranger. His expression is rid of anything pleasant but you decide to play along for now. “Master Tolkov, this is my fiance, Igor Dreesen. Darling, this is the son of the legat of the Merchants’ Guild, Ilya Romanovich.”

Legat of the Merchants’ Guild? Finally someone worth knowing of.

Kaz shakes Ilya’s hand but that marks the extent of his politeness. “I do not take kindly to anyone descending on my lady,” he says in a stern voice.

“But of course, sir.” Tolkov nods curtly. Annoyed or not, he’s proficient at keeping his face blandly kind. “My sincere apologies.”

Ilya gently bows his head towards you before leaving the two of you alone. Your gaze follows him until the man disappears among coiffures and cylinders. Then, you look at Kaz with hardly hidden amusement:

“You play your part better than I was expecting.”

Kaz, however, completely ignores your comment. “The safe isn't here. It must be in the bedroom. Where is it?”

“Upper floor. There’s the grand staircase in the vestibule but we can take the kitchen stairs, there won't be many people in that part of the mansion.”

The presence of ground floor guards is revealed only by loud laughter from behind the door leading to the staff rooms. All of the guests could just leave at once and none of them would notice. Still, you’re exceptionally careful when sneaking between the tables that are bending under the weight of food - even a small misstep, nudging one of the silver platters, could cause a cacophony loud enough that someone might hear it, even if not the guards in question.

You’re leaning against the wall when walking up the spiral stairs. Cocking your head to the side, you’re trying to look into the hall on the first floor but there’s not much you can actually see. As it appears, theft takes a lot more faith than you had previously thought.

The upper floor guards are out of sight but you don’t let yourself give in to the sudden feel of relief - this is only the first step into this little big scheme. There’s still a safe to find and an exit to make.

There’s a long, red carpet covering most of the floor. Although it muffles Kaz’s cane, it also makes the steps of the guards hardly audible. If you do see one, you’ll have to rely on quick thinking and a certain level of stupidity accredited to aristocracy.

Left turn. Pair of doors. Two right turns. Another left and another right. And then - footsteps.

“Someone’s coming,” Kaz whispers. His keen eyes are scanning the long corridor to find anything remotely close to a hiding spot. Decorative cabinets could well work but only if the unwanted passerby doesn’t walk past them.

The idea, a true testimony of quick thinking and aristocratic carelessness, hits you like a bolt out of the blue:

“Push me against the wall,” you order him.

His head snaps towards you, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen. “What?” he stutters out.

“No one likes clingy couples.”

There isn’t any time to discuss and ponder as the footsteps grow louder. Visibly displeased, he puts his arm against the wall next to your head. At first you’re wondering just how enraged your father would be had he heard about this but then you smell Brekker’s cologne and suddenly one nervousness is changed for another, a more bashful one.

The footsteps, as one might expect, belong to a lonely guard patrolling the manor. His face is grim even before he notices the misplaced lovers. When his eyes do glance at you and Kaz, the soldier’s cheeks visibly raise and the frown quickly becomes more of an expression of disgust. Passing by the two of you, he grunts in distaste or irritation and continues walking farther down the corridor.

Kaz, to your surprising displeasure, wastes no time in putting more space between the two of you when the guard is out of sight. No words are exchanged like a collective agreement to pretend this little embarrassment had never taken place. But, it can’t really hurt him if he doesn’t know you’re thinking about it, can it?

With a confident push, you open the ivory-coloured door, their golden decorations glistening in dim lighting.

Lord de Witt’s bedroom is strangely dark compared to the rest of the house. At first glance, there is nothing that stands out as a possible hiding spot for a safe: a bed that could easily fit five people, a vanity with boxes of jewelry and cosmetics, a small desk with private correspondence, a cold fireplace, a folding screen. The artisan taxidermy hanging on the walls only adds a touch of grim macabre.

But a master thief is not so easily dissuaded. You watch Kaz in a slight confusion and interest as he walks through the room, gently knocking against solid wood or carefully. brushing his hand along some surfaces. More than once he tapped different parts of the floor with his cane, only to let out a short sigh as if the strange rite gave him some kind of information but not necessarily the one he was hoping for.

Then, as though he had known all along or played a secret magic trick, he pulls the base of a taxidermied boar’s head. The decoration, for a lack of better word, moves on hinges, revealing a strongbox - one of those that will survive explosives as the manufacturer promises. The safe has a dial and a handle, rendering any kind of traditional lockpicking useless. But Kaz Brekker, as you’re about to witness, is not much of a traditional thief either:

He puts his ear against the iron box, turning the dial a few times in one direction and the other. Then, he lays his other hand on the safe’s door, his whole body leaning against it. Kaz begins slowly turning the dial in one direction. A silence falls between the two of you.

You can’t be sure whether the tension you’re feeling is because of the hallway perplexity or because he’s so determined to open this strongbox but either way, you’re completely uncomfortable with that. “To be honest, I used to be intimidated by you,” you throw at him in hopes of some kind of conversation, no matter how pointless.

“What changed?” he asks in an absent voice. His hand stops turning the dial only to start rotating it in the opposite direction - whatever he’s doing, it seems to be working.

“You have turned out to make a rather lovely spouse.”

A loud click resounds in the room and Kaz immediately pushes down on the handle, opening the strongbox. He reaches inside, pulls out some documents and quickly reads through them. Some he puts back, others he stuffs between his waistcoat and shirt.

“Such nimble fingers you have. I know a market for that,” you joke partially expecting the thief to say something sultry enough to get you to be quiet for the rest of the night.

He spares you a glance and goes back to rummaging through the contents of the safe. In an unexpected act of goodwill, he takes only some of the cash. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Even a lady of my sort has her weaknesses.”

You wait for his answer but Kaz doesn’t as much as look over his shoulder at you as though he hasn’t even heard your words. Although awkwardly, you patiently wait for him to be finished with whatever selective theft he’s committing. That tense silence again.

After a longer while, he closes the safe and locks it again. When he turns around to face you, something glistens between his fingers - a string of pinkish pearls. They flow along the shape of his hand as he offers you the necklace.

A quiet sigh escapes your lips. “I don’t want a payback, Kaz,” you shake your head to accentuate the refusal. “You have helped my family tremendously, this,” you make a vague gesture with your hand, “is the least I could do for you.”

“This isn’t payment,” he states.

Your eyebrows furrow. “Whatever do you mean?”

His intense gaze bores into you for a minute or two before he slowly answers. “It’s a bastard’s inclination.”

With a flustered ‘oh’, you take the string of pearls from him, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks. Still feeling his passionate gaze gliding along your face, you’re a little too abashed to meet his eye. Who would have thought - a thief with a heart!

[queenie-avenue]

" from the bottom of my heart "

💌 ⤻ the obsessed archives, where you should be scared.

requests: open.

THE CEO, ADRIAN HOUDE.

♡ Terms and Conditions Apply. — THE CEO x Fem! Reader ⤻ introductory post of THE CEO.

♡ He'll wear anything you make. — THE CEO x GN! Reader ⤻ when Adrian catches you using him as your muse. [ask.]

♡ A Gentleman's Confronation. — THE CEO x GN! Reader ⤻ you're his to claim, especially after he realises you're horrid just like him. [ask.]

♡ A Rich Man's World. — THE CEO x Fem! Reader ⤻ let him spoil you.

THE CHEERLEADER, KATIE WILLIAMS

♡ L-O-V-E! That's how she feels about you! — THE CHEERLEADER x GN! Reader ⤻ introductory post of THE CHEERLEADER.

♡ Rejection is never the end. — THE CHEERLEADER x GN! Reader ⤻ if you think you having a girlfriend will stop her, think again. [ask.]

THE BASEBALL PLAYER, JESPER HARGREAVES

♡ Prepare for trouble, make it double! — THE BASEBALL PLAYER x GN! Reader ft. THE CHEERLEADER ⤻ introductory post of THE BASEBALL PLAYER. [ask.]

♡ Innocent eyes, deadly hands. — THE BASEBALL PLAYER x GN! Reader ⤻ when you get too close to someone else, and he snaps. [ask.]

THE ACADEMIC RIVAL, SEO MIN-JUN

♡ There's no solution for whatever this was. — THE ACADEMIC RIVAL x GN! Reader ⤻ introductory post of THE ACADEMIC RIVAL.

♡ Don't run, he'll catch you anyway. — THE ACADEMIC RIVAL x GN! Reader ⤻ when you leave school out of desperation, he comes dragging you back to hell like the devil. [ask.]

♡ Two sides of the same coin. — THE ACADEMIC RIVAL x GN! Reader ⤻ you're a creep, and he loves it. [ask]

♡ His, his to torture. — THE ACADEMIC RIVAL x GN! Reader ⤻ don't touch what's his. [ask]

THE BARISTA, AKIMITSU MINORU

♡ One lump or two lumps of sugar? — THE BARISTA x GN! Reader ⤻ introductory post of THE BARISTA.

♡ Fake it till you make it. — THE BARISTA x GN! Reader ⤻ you lie that you have a boyfriend, so he decided that he'll become your boyfriend. [ask.]

THE COVER, VALERIO MARCHETTI

♡ Never judge a book by its Cover. — THE COVER x GN! Reader ⤻ introductory post of THE COVER.

THE MAFIA BOSS, VITTORIA CONSTANZO

♡ This is a Man's World, but she rules it. — THE MAFIA BOSS x Fem! Reader ⤻ introductory post of THE MAFIA BOSS.

♡ The pains of being a Woman. — THE MAFIA BOSS x Fem! Reader⤻ headcanons of how Vittoria will take care of you during your period. [ask]

THE COMBINED OBSESSIONS.

♡ Take my hand, take my whole life too. — THE YANDERES x GN! Reader ft. THE CEO, THE CHEERLEADER, THE BASEBALL PLAYER, THE ACADEMIC RIVAL ⤻ vanilla headcanons of you in a relationship with the yanderes.

♡ Kissed by Aphrodite. — THE YANDERES x GN! Reader ft. THE CEO, THE CHEERLEADER, THE BASEBALL PLAYER, THE ACADEMIC RIVAL ⤻ how they look like.

♡ Knitted with love. — THE YANDERES x GN! Reader ft. THE CEO, THE CHEERLEADER, THE BASEBALL PLAYER, THE ACADEMIC RIVAL, THE BARISTA, THE COVER, THE MAFIA BOSS ⤻ your gifts are only for them. [ask.]

[jkriordanverse]

The crows celebrating their birthdays

Kaz - is the type of guy who puts their birthday and all their info on private. Nobody knows when his birthday is except for Inej but everyone can tell because he gets a little giddy (cuz Inej wishes him happy bd and buys him presents).

Inej - I think she'd want a small celebration but would secretly be super flattered and feel loved if everyone brings her lots of presents and gifts and wishes her happy birthday. Jesper of course, makes a big deal out of it and he & Nina decorates her ship and everything.

Jesper - Oh god. what can I even say? Expects ltos of things for his birthday. Especially from Wylan, to which he expects an abundance of snuggles and kisses and everything. Wylan even takes a leave from the Merchant Council on Jesper's birthday. I think he'd have a decent celebration with his friends before spending the rest of the time with Wylan.

Wylan- Forgets it's his brithday. Personally I hc that Wylan is super bad with dates or sometimes just gets super carried away with something he's doing that he doesn't realize that well, his birthday is coming. like,

Jesper: hey babe, what are you planning for your birthday? Wylan: what birthday? Jesper: Your birthday....you remember.....right? Next week? Wylan: MY BIRTHDAY IS NEXT WEEK???

Nina- This lady has an entire birthweek (Like Trina from Victorious [personally i feel like these two would get along sooo well]). And she plans her outfits according to the days in the birthweek too. And Matthias writes her extra letters and gives her extra snuggles and bath bombs with like flower petals and everything. Just loves birthdays and holidays in generally cuz it feels special.

Matthias - It's one of the only time of the year where Nina spoiling him is an exception he'll accept. Even though he wants a small celebration, Nina still makes a big one with the crows (but they celebrate alone in private tho). Pretends to not want to make a big deal but secretly loves being spoiled.

[viaviv124]

Guys we need to bring back Klaus x Jesper because i'm literally going insane right now

Yes this is a post convincing y'all to also fall into brianworms of this dead ship.

This movie includes spoilers for the 2019 christmas movie Klaus, so uh if you didn’t watch it yet, do that! It's good!

For the ones who did watch the movie and want a refresher or who want to be invested in the fruitcakes before watching, a small summary.

Roughly, the movie is about this spoiled brat called Jesper, who is training to be a mailman (or already is one? Idk) but barely does anything bc he's rich and spoiled rotten, so his dad sends him to a scary, far away place in the north and to go back home he needs to deliver like a million letters or sum. That's where he meets Klaus, a grumpy old man who looks like he could kill him, who ropes him into delivering toys to kids at night. Over time the two of them become close, Jesper becomes more compassionate (basically pulling a Kuzco) and Klaus gets more open and friendly. There we learn that Klaus has a fuck ton of toys in his workshop bc he and his wife wanted kids but then his wife died and he lost all joy in life, meeting Jesper and also helping other children brought him this joy back.

There's more to that movie but i'll get to my ship points now.

1. BEAR X TWINK I NEEDN'T SAY MORE. Coward twink on top of that.

2. It's fluffy as fuck. I need you to imagine the cuddles between them. Just picture them in front of a cozy fire in eachothers arms. That's the vibe. Also i need you to hear me out on my hc that Jesper sometimes braids Klaus' hair and beard with pretty ribbons. Also, hurt/comfort. A lot of it.

3. ANGST POTENTIAL OH MY GOD THE ANGST. Since Klaus is older then Jesper, Jesper will outlive him eventually. (it's hinted (or stated idk) that Klaus died at the end of the movie but lets give them a few more years) MEANING Jesper finds himself in the exact same situation he found Klaus in. Alone and grieving after having lost his big love. Will he manage to move on or be stuck in the grief? WE CAN PLAY AROUND WITH THIS.

Also on top of everything we have the spirit of the dead wife CANONICALLY DRIVING THESE TWO TOGETHER. Literally. In the movie she's represented by a gust of wind and was the one leading Klaus to Jesper, which started this entire thing in the first place. Now i need you to imagine the following. Jesper n Klaus are dating and the wife sees that Klaus is finally happy and managed to move on. So imagine one day Jesper just hears a quiet "Take care of him for me, okay?" before the spirit disappears at last, as she can also move on fully now.

(Extra to the wife thing above: y'all know the song "i'll be here"? Now apply that to Klaus and his wife and, the end part specifically, to Klaus and Jesper.)

ANYWAY THIS IS JUST A FRACTION OF MY BRAINWORMS SO PLEASE LET THIS SHIP COME BACK AGAIN

[grimbanes]

I'm Getting Used to You. (Kaz Brekker x gn!reader)

Summary: “You should shut your mouth, Brekker, before you say something you regret. If you drive me out of here, you’ll only be back on my doorstep in five months time. You need me more than you want me so suck it up. You’re becoming a liability, not me,” Venom. You had enough, laying it out to him.  Kaz’s form stood in front of the table, an unreadable expression on his face. OR kaz and the reader have a hard conversation and you're pretty tired of his shit. PART TWO OF I WAS USING YOU. WC: 3.1k GENRE: angst, minor action, sprinklings of fluff, ooc kaz? tw: violence, blood, the usual warning for SOC. a/n: i left it open for a possible part 3. i intended for more angst but cheri cheri lady by modern talking was on replay.

You continued on your path through the streets of Ketterdam, baked goods tucked under your arm and a light skip in your step. The sun was starting to kiss the seas goodnight, laying to rest beneath her depths and the cool breath of night air was starting to introduce itself to leaning rooftops. Your shoulder had been healing nicely, still bandaged and sore at the joint, still bruised. It would scar and be a permanent reminder for yourself. Don’t fall in love with criminals. To everyone’s surprise, you and Kaz had fallen back into your usual routines with not a mention or hint of prior feelings being discussed. Business as usual.

Your shoulder had healed and your heart had frozen over and you had to learn to like it that way. You couldn’t let yourself be the kind of person to force somebody else to face your feelings for you, to pull you through your trauma instead of you learning to swim through it. You hadn’t been on a job in just over a month, Kaz’s orders. He said he hadn’t wanted to risk any liabilities in his plans and didn’t like to work around the possibility of one either. And you were glad for it. Getting shot was turning out to be one of the best things to ever happen to you. 

As you approached the Crow Club, you momentarily considered just how lucky you were to have the people in your life that you did. You pushed the door open and immediately shuddered, welcoming the slightly warmer air and clicking the door behind you shut. 

“Are you cold?” That voice that used to haunt your dreams and comfort your evenings called out from behind the bar, Kaz Brekker emerging with a ledger in one hand and a pen in the other. It seemed he had been taking stock, doing his usual numbers and checks. Perhaps the new liquor had been selling nicely or maybe he wanted to double check before they opened for the night. 

“It’s Ketterdam. It’s always cold,” You smoothly replied, stepping further into the building and aiming for the door off to the side. You had fresh baked goods to store away, jams and creams to preserve or else they would spoil much too soon. You had workers to feed, after all, and street urchins who sometimes stopped by for some warmth and a snack before looking for a place to sleep for the night. 

“Jes has gone to the Slat,” Kaz said uselessly, closer than you anticipated. You hadn’t even heard him follow you. 

You glanced over your shoulder, wincing a little with the strain and met his curious gaze, those stoney irises watching you with careful consideration. That’s how the two of you were. No more breaths wasted on confessions or anguish. You didn’t even argue, not since you were shot. Instead he watched you like a crow scouting its next meal, lingering a little too long and offering you his presence. You liked it better than arguing, truly. That was draining and the last thing you needed was to be emotionally drained and injured. 

You hummed in response to him, nodding once. You knew that already, Jesper had told you where he was spending his evening. 

“Coffee?” You offered gently, holding up two cups.

“I have work to do.”

You didn’t fight him, nor did you react. Not like you used to. Before, you would have told him ‘work can wait for Dirtyhands to have a cup of tea’ or ‘indulge me, Mr Brekker, I know you want to’. Your routine with him was the same but the soft little moments you had together had been the price. 

You ignored Kaz’s fidgeting, his lack of cane. You ignored the way he checked his timepiece, rocked on his feet and approached. You hummed to yourself as Kaz began to assist you, placing jams on shelves and creams aside - they would spoil by tomorrow, but it was treat enough. You only acknowledged it when you offered him a thankful smile, a nod and began to pour yourself your drink. You could only stare at his gloved hands as they delicately held onto the rim of a cup and settled it next to yours, his fingers lingering on it. Your head turned from the cup to Kaz, his eyes already locked onto you. 

Kaz Brekker truly was a beautiful individual. High cheekbones and fresh scars, his bottom lip split from whatever fight he had recently been in. You had no doubt his knuckles beneath his gloves were scarred. He stood dressed in all black, the warm light of burning candles reflecting warmth in his conflicted irises - the way his throat bobbed and mouth twitched when he considered saying something, the tension rigid in his shoulders with the stiffness in his arm whilst holding the cup. He was an enigma and one you were deeply fond of, even if you didn’t wish to pursue anything with him further. It hurt too much. 

With only you and Kaz Brekker standing in that building, you didn’t utter a word as you poured the hot liquid into his cup. You wouldn’t dare tell a soul that the Bastard of the Barrel changed his mind on something. 

“Nina is also at the Slat,” Kaz spoke up, clearing his throat and stepping an inch back from you, startled by the lack of distance between the two of you - you wanted to roll your eyes.

“I know,” You replied curtly, sliding over his cup and bidding yourself exit from the makeshift kitchen. 

“Then why are you here?” Kaz asked, a few uneven steps behind you but trailing you nonetheless. Kaz Brekker didn’t follow anyone. 

“I work here,” You stated the obvious, sinking into a corner table beside the bar.

That seemed to be enough. Kaz stopped trailing you. 

“You should quit,” He said from across the room, coffee in hand, his nose buried into his numbers and papers even though you both knew damn well he had it all memorised three times over. 

You laughed, bitter and lacking all amusement. You slammed a hand down on the table, irritation bubbling deep in your skin. You never snapped. You were accepting, patient. All the things somebody like him needed when he was acting without thinking, sabotaging himself and you. This time, you weren’t putting up with it. 

“You should shut your mouth, Brekker, before you say something you regret. If you drive me out of here, you’ll only be back on my doorstep in five months time. You need me more than you want me so suck it up. You’re becoming a liability, not me,” You had enough, laying it out to him. You were echoing Nina’s words back at him. Kaz had to realise what he was doing. He couldn’t not see it, right?

Kaz’s form stood in front of the table, an unreadable expression on his face. He pulled out a chair, sat down opposite you and carded his gloved fingers through his hair, disheveling his appearance further. He didn’t speak for a moment, analysing you. This is what he did, he studied and looked for weakness, one he could use against you later and force your hand when he deemed it convenient. Unfortunately for him, your only weakness happened to be him. 

“I want you out of here by the time we open. You’re done with the Dregs,” Kaz decided, a small nod of his head and bitter curl of his lips. 

His eyes didn’t meet yours, staring down at his twitching fingers atop the stained table. You stared at him incredulously. You laughed at him. Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel, was so afraid of his own feelings that he was really willing to fire you. You shook your head, an amused smile on your face and a snort escaping, pointing at him with a waggle of your finger as if to say ‘good one’. 

“And who will be there to cover Jesper when he inevitably wanders away from the door? Who will cover Wylan on jobs when he has to focus on his other businesses? Who will watch your back when you need a scout? Certainly not Inej, she’s got her own life. Nina? Not likely. You need me, Brekker. You don’t have to want me, you can fight that all you want. You’re making rash decisions based on fear, on weakness, and it’s making you a hypocrite. It’s not easy for me either so just deal with it or go away,” You explained. You knew you were being condescending but it felt so good to be the only person who could talk down to Dirtyhands. 

“I don’t want you gone because of feelings for you.” Kaz said, his gaze unwavering and irritation clear in the twitch of his eye, the lazy raise of his eyebrow and the subtle, dangerous smirk wanting to pull up one side of his face, “I want you gone because I don’t want you to be hurt again.”

You couldn’t stop your own guard from slipping, your expression falling the more you stared at him. He hadn’t been firing you, he was worried about you. You licked your lips, nodded once and then shuffled in your chair. You pulled it around the table, placed it next to Kaz’s and sat yourself beside him. Where you were always supposed to be. Without touching him, you leaned into his space, close enough that when he turned his head to face you, there were only mere inches between the two of you. 

“We’re both very dark people, Kaz. Despite that, you’re still my light. I understand that you’re worried, that you don’t know how to process your feelings when you’re overwhelmed but that’s okay. We don’t always have to fight. We can just be,” You said with a small, tender smile on your mouth. All of your anger began to dissipate and the tension in Kaz’s shoulder began to cease, his hands unclenching and something akin to a smile graced his pale eyes, vulnerability staring straight back at you. 

“We could have this,” Kaz mumbled, his head dipped and momentarily, his forehead knocked gently against yours. It was barely a touch, enough for him to exhale shakily, his throat bobbing and he was all yours in that single moment. 

“That’s right, Kaz. We could have this,” You nodded and his head was turning from you, “You just have to want it enough. You’re a man who sees value, what value is this to you?”

Kaz steeled himself, leaning back in his chair and then he was looking at you again. Conflicted. He breathed out, rolled his tongue into his cheek and accepted his fate. His arm moved from in front of him to instead drape over the back of your chair, pulling the wood closer to himself and his eyes met yours once again, his bruised face illuminated in a stunning, golden glow. The dark cloud in front of you stepped aside, revealing the sunshine that he kept hidden deep beneath his rugged surface. 

“I would burn kruge to keep you warm,” Kaz chose to say.

It was a silly response, one that had you laughing into your hand, your head cast aside. He was staring again, something soft painting his renaissance features a gentle version of his previous self. There was a tilt in his head, a subtle smile on the left corner of his lips that met his eyes, steady and confident as he always was. Your fingers hugged the surface of your cup and you clinked it against his.

“That would be a lot of kruge and besides… I don’t feel so cold anymore,” You said to him, watching relief practically emanate from every pore and every little motion that belonged to Kaz Brekker. 

____________________________________________________________

You ducked and weaved, jumping back and arching yourself in a way to avoid swing after swing. You kissed your brass knuckles, pulled back your arm and lunged, cracking your fist down on an already bloody cheekbone. The man fell onto the floor and you groaned, rolling a kink out of your shoulder. Your weight shifted to your heel, realigning your centre of balance and you were kicking a leg out as you turned, the nails sticking out of the bottom of your boots sticking into a chest as you sent the second assailant into the alleyway wall. You wiped your forehead, smudging blood away. You had to run. If they pulled guns, that was it for you.

Turning on your heel, you darted towards the exit of the alleyway but instead of going through the exit, you hopped up and gripped onto the edge of a tall, damp wall. One foot at a time, you climbed and swung your body over the top. You dropped into a roll to carry the momentum and began to sprint. You weaved through carts and traders, slipping past Komedie Brute disguises. It had been foolish to wander so far, you knew it, but you just needed a nice stroll in the night and the weather had been somewhat clear for Ketterdam.

There was no other explanation. Someone from the gang must have let slip the precarious nature of your relationship with Kaz Brekker. You hadn’t put a label on it but it was obvious how you felt about one another. One of their many fools must have let it slip on a gambling table or in a rival club’s bar. You had been followed and targeted. Of course you would be, anyone would love the chance to get at the one man who had single handedly dominated the game to the point where it barely seemed like a war and more like a massacre. The possibility of turncoat or traitor was dangerous, accidental or not. It had to be dealt with.

You continued to run, scaling fences and low walls and arches, your stamina draining only slowly. You kept running even on the algae slick cobbled paths, throwing yourself down alleyways. Luckily, they weren’t able to keep you. You threw yourself up the stairs to the Crow Club, bursting through the door and staggering through patron and client. You kept pushing until you were throwing open the door to Kaz’s office, slamming it behind you. He looked at you with annoyance at first but it quickly turned to confusion, then anger.

“What happened to you?” Kaz asked, his tone dry. He gestured a hand for you to sit and you did, throwing yourself into the seat opposite him. His hair was slicked back away from his strong bone structure and he looked bored, itching to go do anything else even if he loved puzzles and numbers. 

“Felt like going for a little walk and got jumped. Seems one of our donnies may have said something he shouldn’t have,” You said, accepting the handkerchief Kaz extended to you between two fingers. You wiped blood away, hissing. He then opened his drawer, pulling out a flask of what could only be his usual brandy and he tossed it to you. You opened it, poured it on the cloth and began to wipe at your cuts and bruises, sterilising them. 

“There’s always a risk in being associated with me,” He said but it was evident that he was unsettled. He rose from his seat, left his paperwork open and circled the desk. 

The young man sat against it, his tall height towering over you and gingerly, he took the handkerchief from your clumsy hands. He’d always been dexterous, careful and exact with his skilled hands, much more elegant than you would ever be. Kaz took your chin in between his finger and thumb, tilted your head up to look at him. Bow shaped, unfairly pink lips pressed into a firm line and gentle touches brushed your fresh cuts, wiping away fresh blood. Carefully, he turned your head to the side and tutted, dabbing your temple. If it affected him, he was doing well not to show it other than heavier breathing. He didn’t stop until he was satisfied, his hands dropping to settle in front of him and he stared at you. 

“No murderous intent?” You asked quietly, leaned forward. You wouldn’t push into his space. He always had to come to you first, you didn’t want to overwhelm him. 

Kaz’s lips broke into a malicious grin, his teeth on show and something dangerous stared back at you in his blue hydrangea eyes, a flood beginning to rise and a cyclone daring to push onto land. “Oh darling, I am furious. Patience is a skill I have mastered and nurtured. I’m going to gut every single Dreg until my floors are stained the perfect shade of red. I’ve been meaning to redecorate.”

“Who knew you were such a romantic,” You laughed, your heart stuttering your chest. 

Blood was currency in Ketterdam, worth so much more than kruge and everybody and anybody knew if there was one thing Kaz craved more than kruge, it was blood. His gloved fingers brushed hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear and he was everything in that moment. He was violent and he was malicious. He was loving and he was affectionate. More importantly, you were truly starting to believe that he was yours. He tutted, tsked and sighed, pushing away from the desk and reached for his cane where it had been propped against his desk.

“Will you be alright?” He asked, the thunderous rage crackling through his towering figure adorned in black and gold and you had never felt more loved in your entire life. Kaz was making sure you were okay before he got his own revenge. How sweet. You smiled, your cheeks flushed pink. 

“Even if I wasn’t, I know you’d make sure I would be,” You teased, standing behind him and he glanced at you from over his shoulder, his brows raised.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” He rolled his eyes, turning around to face you and leaning his weight into his cane.

“Is that an offer?”

“I’ll cut out your tongue if you keep talking, love,” Kaz stepped past you, reaching for the handle of the door and then he paused, looked at you and pointed his finger as he said, “Stay here. If I see you anywhere but this office, I’ll break your legs too.” 

“If you want me on my knees, just ask,” You continued, flipping through the pages on his desk. 

“You’re irritating.”

“You adore me,” You were still distracting him from completing his mission but you were thoroughly enjoying the hold you had over him. Kaz shook his head, annoyed. 

“I do.” 

That was the last thing he said before the door was slamming behind him. 

You hadn’t expected him to agree.

tags: @noctemys @osteopsycho @stxrg4zer @vyctorya

( comment if you want to be apart of future tags! )

[ainadelothwen]

I think enough time has passed that I can talk about Kit's play INFLUENCE in some detail without spoiling it for other people.

I got tickets for a Wednesday night show, front row center. The Collective Theatre is a pretty small, intimate theatre, seating perhaps 50-60 people total. My partner and I ended up being the only people in the front row - which was legitimately great - as it added to the intimacy. I got to watch Kit perform 8 feet away from me all night, got to see every emotion flicker across his face and every gesture of his hand like he was in my own living room.

The first Act is a magic show. And as a magic show, there's a lot of participation from the audience and a lot of banter from Kit. This play was a perfect showcase for Kit and his charming, playful and flirty personality. His crowd work is excellent. I don't think people realize just how much Jesper-energy Kit has naturally. The first Act also allowed Kit to truly demonstrate his physical prowess. Sure, you could probably glean he was good at the sleight of hand stuff with his Jesper gunslinger, and just how in control of his body he is with his dancing, sword fighting, footballing etc but watching the fluidity of his movements on stage, when he's right in front of you, and you STILL don't see how he did the magic trick even though you are paying rapt attention - is something else.

Because my partner and I were the only two in the front row, we ended up on stage with Kit a lot. He appeared bound on stage with duct tape across his mouth and I had to pull it off to free him, to start the play. I think I was gentle enough and I kept the duct tape as a souvenir, along with two playing cards from another trick - is that weird?

There's another trick where my partner had to handcuff Kit and he made a coy comment to my partner about being very good at that, before looking at me and winking. My partner also helped him with a "mind control" trick, which involved them "psychically" connecting another volunteer to think of the same words.

I also got a chance to participate in one of the bigger magic tricks. When you first walked into the theatre, the ushers handed you a pencil, a small envelope and a slip of paper. You were instructed to write down a secret, seal it in the envelope and put your seat number on it, before dropping it off in a clear box on stage. I knew exactly what I wanted to write; my partner agonized a bit longer. At some point in the evening, Kit began pulling unopened envelopes from the clear box and used his "telepathic" powers to read what's on them - and he picked mine!

After "guessing" my name and birthdate, he started guessing the bulk of the secret with me confirming each correct guess (this is the gist of the interaction):

"Would you say you like your job? But you're doing a lot of meetings over Skype? Zoom? Oh, Google Meet? That's the worst one. And those meetings can get boring, yeah? And when you get bored - you start reading -" he was grinning and his eyes were twinkling - "trashy online fan fiction?"

At this point my face felt beet red, the audience was laughing, and all I could think was "My good man, I am reading trashy fan fics about *your character*, and picturing *you* in my mind." And I think Kit knew. It was simultaneously and hilariously embarrassing and a very fun interaction - all because of how well he handled it.

There's a twist in the latter half of the Play (and this is when it becomes a Play) when Kit's more emotional acting really comes through. Then after the show, he does come out to meet the audience - I'll post about that another time - but he's wonderful in real life too.

[lady-ashfade]

Poly six of crows x reader of where she’s childish and they surprise her with toy card or dolls and just spoil her

Childlike

Poly!Six of crows x Fem!reader.

This was cute and sweet, I am actually like this. This gives me vibes of a certain…Space.

Warnings: Childlike reader, childlike behavior, man there is nothing hear to warn you about. Expect cuteness overload.

Helping my inner child as well.

So to start off by saying, for this situation you probably wouldn’t have the best childhood. Maybe it wasn’t the best, or it was the worst. What ever it was, you found comfort in the small things.

Like stuffed animal, toy figures, or anything you could find. It just reminded you of a younger time, and they were just so cute.

The group would love that about you and found it utterly adorable. They enjoyed the sparkle in your eyes when you saw the toys. How you would giggle and just play with them.

Kaz in the beginning of the relationship, before they all invited you to be theirs he was the first one to truly notice the childlike qualities. How your eyes would glue into the shop windows at a new child’s toy set. Or when you looked around for stuffed animals when no one was looking.

So he got you a gifted. He just saw it and thought of you. It was a fluffy small elephant, that you could carry around anywhere. When he gave it to you it was like the saints blessed that very moment. He had never saw you smile so wide, you hugged the stuffed animal in your chest.

“Thank you.” It was overwhelmingly sweet for you because no one had ever done that for you. Kaz couldn’t help but smile at you and patted your head to comfort you.

So you did carry the stuff animal around everywhere. Like every where, even got a belt to hold it.

The crows always have gifts for you even ever they get back from a job.

There was a collection of all cards. You loved them so much. So even ever they saw a pack in the market they got it for you. It was animals, maybe even saint cards, anything really. You had it.

Jesper, really liked to play teatime with you, he’d make you at least sit down once a week with him. Wylan joins to because it helps him, because of his childhood.

Speaking of wylan, boy can’t help but get you everything your little heart desires. I mean can you not see him being the same way? Because I can. So if you want to play with your toys he is always down to join.

Nina likes dress up. You know they have bought you so many dresses and stuff. She gets you the most fancy things.

They love you so much and will do anything to see you smile. So you bet your butt they will buy you anything you want.

Kaz has played dolls with you before, but no one knows other then you- Or the others are to scared to say anything about it.

Inej likes to read you bed time stories, or buy you childlike books for you to read. I think her and Matthias do that the most.

Matthias built you a biggass doll house for all of your dolls- Which it was so big kaz was like “get it out.” But he saw just how much you liked it. So it stayed.

Your favorite stuffy was the elephant kaz gave you, but you had many others. One from each of them, that also smelled like them.

When the group saw that you had made dolls that looked like them, like exactly like them- They cried. Jesper was in full on tears, sobbing. Even kaz felt very touched but he didn’t cry- Well on the outside.

You sweet one, are spoiled by them. So try and sucker them out of everything you can.

[lilisouless]

Nina: guys, is pride and prejudice good for movie night?

Jesper: is there a love triangle on it?

Nina: well, kind of but-

Jesper and Wylan: NOO!

Inej: is not exactly a triangle guys, you can calm down

Nina: what going on?

Inej: apparently we don't notice because we get too invested on the movie, but when we watch something with a love triangle things get a little...intense

Matthias: you just like Edward because he is rich!

Kaz: DUUH! what is your excuse? you like Jacob because he is a wolf?

Matthias: so what,Kaz? SO WHAT?!

---

Matthias: Aiden is a great guy! Carrie should stay with him!

Kaz: Mr Big is a millonaire!

Matthias: Thats you argument for everything! Also Big is a cheater!

Kaz: well your beloved Aiden got cheated on too!

Matthias: Why are we even fighting over this is neither of us like Carrie!

Kaz: i don't know but we already started

----

"BETTY!"

"VERONICA!"

Matthias: Veronica is a frivolous rich spoiled kid! Betty is sweet

Kaz: Betty is a doormat! Veronica has her whole life ahead of her, therefore Betty should have the bland ginger!

Matthias: no! he should go to Veronica so Betty can find someone better

----

Matthias: you clearly don't understand the hunger games!

Kaz: oh please, the boring goody two shoes blondie has nothing on the competent, strong brunette

Matthias: its because you have not read the books! if you did you´d understand!

(meanwhile Jesper and Wylan locked in the closet)

Wylan: how comes the girls are NOT hearing that? they already broke like four plates

Jesper:shh! they´ll hear you

"both scream as the door opens"

Kaz: guys, we need your opinion on this

Wylan: please no

Matthias: how is a better match for Katniss Everdeen,Jonanna or Madge?

[lunarthecorvus]

Inej Ghafa parent's fanfiction recommendations part of Lunar's soc fanficiton rec series

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what a mother was by @cameliawrites

Wordcount: 62k Chapters: 8/8

Characters: Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's Grandparents, Inej Ghafa's Aunt, Inej Ghafa's Father, Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker

Tags: Mother-Daughter Relationship, Motherhood, Family, Romance, Coming of Age, Prequel, Time Skips, Suli Culture & Religion, Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Canon-Typical violence, Period Typical Racism, Sick Character, Grief/ Mourning, Attempted Sexual Assault, First Love, Implied/ Referenced Homophobia, Eating Disorders, Bittersweet, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending

Author's summary/notes: "She could recount every detail of the day she married Kolhat: the geraniums her sister had embroidered along the sleeves and hem of her dress, one of her father’s old handkerchiefs tucked into her pocket, her mother’s silk veil draped over her hair. She could recall the day she met him, when she was all of twenty years old. Inej was not yet twenty. Shanta still felt as young as all that, and she felt far older." . . . Before she was Inej’s mother, Shanta Ghafa had a mother too. or: ten years and six suitors in the life of Mama Ghafa. My summary/notes: A beautiful retrospective of Mama Ghafa's past, the life she has lived, and all she has loved and lost. Camelia is just an amazing writer and every part of this fic was beautfully written. You can feel the grief and joy of Shanta's life and it added levels and depth to her character that I never would've expected. While reading this I couldn't believe that this wasn't canon and its own book. I would kill to read this for the first time again.

---------- ☾₊ ⊹

Sankta Margaretha and Other Tales of Sorrow by @oneofthewednesdays

Wordcount: 18k Chapters: 8/8

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's Father, Kaz Brekker, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck

Tags: Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Angst, Implied/ Reference Rape/ Non-con, Canon Typical Violence, Graphic Description of Corpses

Author's summary/notes: When his daughter was stolen from beneath his nose on the outskirts of Os Kervo, Samir Ghafa lost his faith in the saints. After a letter arrives bearing the insignia of the Lantsov double-eagle, he finds his hope rekindled. But when he learns of the demon of Ketterdam, he begins to fear once more… My summary/ notes: I'm not sure how to write this without directly spoiling it.. but a certain opinion Inej's father has about someone is surprisingly uncommonly found in fics and its so interesting to read how the opinion is formed and how Samir acts because of it. Then consequently how the others act and feel because of Samir's actions. (I was laughing my ass off while writing this so vaguely)

---------- ☾₊ ⊹

Ten Minutes in the Life of a Pear by @oneofthewednesdays

Wordcount: 8.9k Chapters: 4/4

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's Father, Kaz Brekker, Asha, Hanzi

Tags: Panic Attacks, Healing, Implied/ Reference Rape/Non-con, Canon backstory, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Post-Canon

Authors summary: Four glimpses into breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert with the Ghafa Family. My summary/ notes: A heartwarming fic reflecting on the pain and the way relationships both platonic and romantic can develop and grow throughout the different points in life.

---------- ☾₊ ⊹

Runs in the family by DopamineAddict

Wordcount: 99k Chapters: 16/18 (hasn't been updated since march)

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's father, Wylan Van Eck, Jesper Fahey. Tante Heleen, Specht, Roeder, Anika

Tags: Revenge, Family Reunions, Canon-Typical violence, Coming of Age, Inej Ghafa needs a hug, Past Rape/ non con, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Kaz is scared of Inej's parents he knows hunger for revenge when he sees it, the Ghafa's might be a bit non canon but we only see them from Inej's pov in canon so..

Author's summary/notes: As the Ketterdam harbour grows closer, Priya and Devnand Ghafa steel themselves for the truth of whatever their daughter had been through over the past two years. And for what they might do about it. My summary/notes: Priya and Devnand meet their daughter again after years, they learn about her and what's she's been doing, but the other question that will be answered is what have they been up to since Inej has been taken. (This fic is just incredible, it changed how I saw her parents)

[happynowyo]

Reflection, part 2

A/n: feel free to send request if you want to see some particular scenes in this fic between different characters or if you want me to write some other stuff based on some prompts with Kaz💜

And one more thing. The timeline in this fic takes place after season 1 of SaB but Pekka didn't frame Kaz, Inej and Jesper for murder. Matthias is too good to stay in Hellgate so let's imagine that Kaz was in a good mood one day and helped Nina (from the book kanon) to get him out just as she asked him over and over again. Wylan is a part of the Crows as well but no one except for Kaz knows that he's Van Eck.

Fandom: Six of crows

Warnings: Kaz Brekker and everything that goes with him

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x ShadowSummoner!OC

Summary: wandering about Ketterdam leads Jess to an unexpected encounter.

Word count: 1,7k

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Tag list: @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @valkyrie05x

The small hotel, located in the business part of the town, looked quite decent. But not enough to convince Jess that Ketterdam could claim to be the fair capital of Kerch.

The journey by sea took several weeks and by the end of it Jess was literally sick of the sight of the water and the noise of waves. She was endlessly bored, but deep down she consoled herself that the calm routine on a ship was far better than being anywhere near the Fold. The farther away she stayed from it, the safer it was.

A few weeks spent in near silence, with the exception of a brief dialogue with the captain, allowed her to put her thoughts in order and fully comprehend what had happened. At night Jess saw her father in her dreams over and over again, and he was so much like his old self, the one who had affectionately stroked her hair and spoiled her with fascinating stories from the past, that it seemed wild to her that the same man could try to subdue Alina to take her power of Sun summoner and use it to destroy everything and everyone around.

The contrast was so great that it was still hard to believe. Jess remembered perfectly well that her father was capable of cruelty, and the scars left on her back as the terrifying reminder were itchy but he was her father, and she was trying to hold on to the good things that had once bound them together. Baghra would surely scold her for that and call her a weak foolish girl whose naivety would lead to a bad outcome, but hadn't Baghra herself stayed by Aleksander's side for centuries and supported him by going along with her motherly feelings?

Jess was well aware of her grandmother's combative nature. Baghra would have found a way to kill the Darkling long time ago if she really wanted to stop him. Perhaps she clung to the idea that time would change Aleksander and allow him to pacify his lust for power and his hatred of the royal dynasty, that used the powerful Grishas as toys for entertainment at fancy parties, and Jess could not blame Baghra for that blind hope for the best.

When she arrived in Ketterdam, the first few days fell entirely out of her mind as she rested and slept pretty much all the time. Dreams saved her from the severe anxiety that came in choking waves and filled every cell of her body. Along with it there were some destructive thoughts full of obsessive paranoia. The Darkling was the strongest Grisha she had ever known, and she could easily imagine the rage her father would feel when he learned of her runaway. She would never be safe as long as he lived, but now Jess had no one who could truly confirm the Darkling's death in the Fold. She wished she had a mass of useful spies in different parts of the world, like Baghra, but she clung to the tip about Nina.

Jess was a couple of years older than Nina, but their rooms were next to each other in the East part of the Little Palace. That was one of the first reasons for their friendship. The other was that their impulsive nature and desire to act out of spite caused them to be punished by their teachers more often than anyone else. They practiced together, spending time chatting and also helping each other during their studies, trying to get their powers under control. Jess joked that she volunteered to be a guinea pig for Nina when she slowed her heart or made it gallop when Nina tried to squeeze her lungs, depriving her of oxygen and instantly plunging Jess into a state of animal panic for her life.

They got along well, so well that they once trusted each other with their most intimate secrets. Technically, Jess was known as one of the servants in the Little Palace. Baghra insisted that the fact of her kinship with Aleksander should have remained in shadows because of the fear of possible future consequences. But the burden of that truth grew heavier and heavier as the years went on. Nina was her only friend and Jess found it increasingly difficult to lie to her about why she always disappeared in the evenings. So on her fifteenth birthday she told Nina about her ability to summon shadows. Putting two plus two together was easy as everyone knew that such a gift was only inherited through the Morozov's bloodline.

Nina appreciated the trust that had developed between them, so in return she opened up about the planned escape. Jess was well aware that her friend was opposed to the idea that Grishas should serve the Crown without complaint and unconditionally participate in someone else's war as part of the First Army. Nina was a hopeless romantic and a relentless adventurer. She wanted something more out of her life besides orders, fear, and endless fighting with creatures in the Fold.

Perhaps it would have been easier for the two of them to run away together, but Baghra kept saying that Jess lacked self-control and the Darkling would instantly send an entire group to find her. The moment was not suitable and with tears in her eyes she had to let Nina go alone, enduring her father's interrogations later, when the alien darkness surrounded her with a thick veil and hurt by touching bare skin. Even if her father guessed the truth, he could not learn it from Jess.

Now she wanted to think that the memory of their former friendship would help her connect with Nina, though she was worried that Nina's opinion of her might have changed over the years. She could believe that Jess had helped her father of her own will and not by the order with the threat of cruel punishment, because who really cared about such details? During the war your motives and sincere desires don't mean anything — it's your actions that matter. And that's how Jess soothed her conscience after another nightmare that threw up pictures of the horrible things Aleksander forced her to do.

Finding someone in an unfamiliar city was a new task for Jess, but she was always the one to learn quickly, so the good two hundred kruge left in the hotel receptionist's pocket helped to get the names of a couple of places where Heartrenders usually worked. After visiting these places, however, Jess was left with nothing. If Nina had ever worked there, it wasn't under her own name. So her next attempt was the town square. You can understand a lot about the people of any place if you listen to what they say.

So Jess lurched in the shadows, clinging to scraps of other people's conversations about debts, gangs, Dime Lions, brothels and tourists. The flow of information poured over her in an avalanche, made her get lost in the names and places. Everything began to blend into indecipherable white noise, and Jess stopped focusing so much on her self-control. The shadows instantly came alive, licking her fingers with a unbodied chill and becoming thicker under the visor of some fancy bakery. The anxiety began to override clear thoughts, and Jess shook herself off just in time to see two guys walking past her, making lively conversation.

The vaguely familiar "Nina insisted that this is where they sell the best pistachio ice cream" caught her attention, and she let her curiosity take over, following the pair in a decent distance. She hadn't been able to follow them all the way, however, as someone's hand suddenly tugged at her shoulder, pulling her sharply into an empty alleyway. Her shoulder joined painfully with cold bricks, and Jess felt both indignation and fright as she looked up to see some Suli girl, whose face was half concealed by a grey cloak. She looked so thin and frail at the first side that Jess was surprised that the girl held the blade so confidently at her throat. Not the first time, apparently.

— The city is drowning in corrupt politicians and dishonest merchants, but you guys still rob an ordinary tourist? — the silly joke flew off her tongue before her brain had time to assess the dangerous situation.

Suli's brown eyes narrowed but her grip on Jess' shoulder was still firm.

— You were too focused on my friends for a tourist. Jesper spotted you three blocks back.

— I honestly don't understand…

— Did Pekka send you? Is he so desperate that now he's recruiting some pretty faces from Ravka? Your accent is minimal but my hearing is too trained.

The stranger's face remained impenetrable, so blank that Jess immediately noticed the contrast with the anxiety that flashed in the girl's eyes. God, if Nina wasn't in Ketterdam and Jess had come all that exhausting way for nothing, just to die in an empty alley because of someone else's suspicions, then Aleksander had better be dead indeed so he would never learn of such an embarrassment.

— Look, I arrived in Ketterdam three days ago and I have no idea who Jesper, Pekka and who else are! I'm looking for an old friend, Nina Zenik, I heard a familiar name in the crowd and just followed, so you don't have to worry about your safety. Whatever problems you have with Pekka, I won't give you any trouble, — Jess felt much more confident, though Suli's skeptical look full of mockery made it clear that she doubted Jess' ability to hurt anyone. That's better.

— How do you know Nina?

The jubilation that gripped Jess could be compared to the first alcohol in life that hits instantly and intoxicates too fast. Or to the time when she'd managed to confront her father and her shadows had swallowed his whole. She didn't hide the relieved exhale and visibly relaxed, pulling the stranger's dagger away from her with a slight smile.

— We'd been neighbors once. I hadn't seen her in a few years but I hoped to get some help. It's a matter of life and death, literally, and if you agreed to take me to her, I'd owe you forever.

— You know, Jesper says the same thing when he tries to convince me to leave him with cards alone for another game, it's a surprise you haven't met each other yet.

Part 3

[celestialbooks]

If you like this song, try this book

Haven't you ever listened to a song and thought Man, I wish I could read a book like this song! Well, allow me to make your day and give you FIVE song-to-YA book recommendations.

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1) SONG-to-BOOK: That's so True by Gracie Adams to The Naturals by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

The Naturals is a YA murder mystery book/series by JLB in which a group of teens make up a secret FBI task force and assist their "handlers" in solving serial killer cases. But my god, JLB writes this book so well. Her understanding of the complexity relationships is chef's kiss. If you loved the dreamy, yet harsh lyrics and beats of That's so True, don't sleep on The Naturals! And, forgive me, but That's So True gives off such Micheal and Cassie vibes.

Remember how I died/When you started walking/That's my life/That's my life

Like, you CANNOT tell me that Michael DIDN'T sing this in his head when he thought of Cassie.

2) SONG-to-BOOK: Heads Will Roll by Yeah Yeah Yeahs to Heartless by Marissa Meyers

When I listen to this song, I think of Catherine. That's it. That's the summary. I can so clearly envision Catherine singing this song it's not even funny. If you love the techno beats of the song and the lyrics, Heartless is THE book to read. Heartless is a Victorian-style Alice in Wonderland prequel. The book follows Catherine, the daughter of a marquess, who is - against her will - engaged to the King of Hearts. This book was so good, and I wasn't expecting it. Like, Catherine and Jest? Perfection. I don't want to spoil this book, but this song can be applied to Catherine at two points of her life. When she found out she was supposed to marry the King of Hearts, and when her love died.

The men cry out the girls cry out/The men cry out, oh no Off, off with your head/Dance, dance til you're dead (dead)/Heads will roll

3) SONG-to-BOOK: Trouble by Valerie Broussard to Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

This song describes Six of Crows so well that I'm starting to think it's a conspiracy. If you love the background beats, the kind of gothic-dark-ominous-angry vibes of the song, and the strong vocals, Six of Crows is perfect for you. It follows Kaz Brekker, the teenage unofficial leader of the Dregs and nightmare of the Barrel. He brings together a group of five teenagers with special skills and "employs" them on a mission to break into the impenetrable Ice Court. The six teens each have their reasons for joining this mission, and because all of them are so, so traumatized, angry, angsty, and scary, they fit this song perfectly. No, but actually. Like, I want to wrap Kaz in a hug, and Jesper my precious. Inej my beloved, Wylan, you crazy pyro, Nina my strong baby, and RIP Matthias.

We wear red so they don't see us bleed/Hundred dollar bills under our sleeve/We intend not to sleep 'til we're dead/Drink our problems right out of our heads

4) SONG-to-BOOK: Paris is Burning by St. Vincent to The Gilded Wolves by Roshini Chokshi

Okay, wow. This song, this book? Bewitching. That's the only word that can be used to describe both, even individually. If you love the strong melody, haunting vocals, and killer lyrics, you are SERIOUSLY missing out on The Gilded Wolves. The Gilded Wolves is a historical fantasy novel that follows a diverse group of talented outcasts on a heist to claim their rightful inheritances. Led by Séverin Montagnet-Alarie, the team navigates a world of dark magic, ancient artifacts, and dangerous secrets as they unravel a mystery that could change the course of history. This book was so haunting and was on my mind for WEEKS after I read it, and the song pairs perfectly with it. This song reminds me of all the characters mixed into one, and their cumulative anger at their circumstances. My poor babies NEED things to go well for them, okay? The Gilded Wolves is dark, gothic, and lyrical, with witty humor and excellent world-building. If you love Paris is Burning, it truly cannot get better than this book.

We are waiting on a telegram to give us news of the fall/I am sorry to report, dear Paris is burning after all/We have taken to the streets in open rejoice, revolting/We are dancing a black waltz, fair Paris is burning after all

5) SONG-to-BOOK: Carousel by Melanie Martinez to Caraval By Stephanie Garber

Carousel fits Caraval so well but in an underrated kind of way. if you love the hardcore-dream feel of the song with its tough beats and dreamy-hard lyrics, READ CARAVAL! I promise you won't be disappointed. Caraval follows Scarlett Dragna as she and her sister, Donatella, travel to the faraway, once-in-a-lifetime, and mysteriously adventurous Caraval. But as soon as the two sisters arrive, Donatella gets kidnapped. And though Scarlett knows that everything that happens during Caraval is only an elaborate performance, it doesn't feel like it.

Oh, come, take my hand/And run though playland/So high, too high at the carnival/And it's all fun and games/'Til somebody falls in love/But you already bought a ticket/And there's no turning back now

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Happy reading to you guys! I hope you enjoy the books I've listed with the songs, and I genuinely hope you give them a try. Some of these books are so underrated, and they deserve all your love. See y'all next time!

[jazzythursday]

WIP Wednesday Monday

Tagged by @sparrowmoth <3

This is part of a scene in chapter 4 of Heart Of The Country that I’m being very secretive about both because it has an OC in it that I don’t want to spoil and also because it has given me SO much trouble the last few months and is still in SUCH rough shape. But because I am a tease, apparently, here is a lil snippet:

“Knew each other?” Wylan finishes, chin tipping forwards. “I guessed.”

“We go way back,” Jesper settles on explaining. He gives Wylan’s hand a reassuring squeeze and shrugs. Wylan’s assumptions aren’t wrong, exactly, but they aren’t—it wasn’t like that, really. Not the way he’d probably assume. “We got into trouble together, as kids.”

“Oh, well that does sound like you, then,” Wylan says cheekily, and Jesper makes a sound of affront.

“Did he ever grow out of it?”

“Oh, not in the least.”

“I have no idea to what you could be referring to,” Jesper sniffs. “I’m a model citizen.”

Wylan draws a singular eyebrow upwards, levelling him with a dry look. “Please. Just last month, you convinced Marta that there was a ghost in the basement.”

“I didn’t think she’d believe me! Besides, she didn’t really quit. And anyway—who’s to say there isn’t? That house is old as all Saints and their descendants twice over. Who knows what’s crawling around under there.”

“Kaz, most likely.”

Jesper laughs, thoroughly amused, and Wylan gives him a pleased smile. “So, you two were proper little menaces then?”

Tagging (but no pressure) @kezzzx @sixofcrowdaydreams @oneofthewednesdays @waterloou @tinyarmedtrex

[jeremysknoxes]

continuing on wylan, the other crows (exception jesper) all have physical trauma as well as emotional scarring, and because wylan comes from a rich family, it's easy for them to write him off as spoiled.

I mean just look at this-

even at the end of ck or in row, no one except for wylan himself knows the extent of his trauma. kaz and inej know about the letters, and van dick putting his mom in the nursing home (or whatever that was), but they don't know about his father calling him worthless and useless for most of his life

edit: @sxnderwitch pointed out than van eck says he “tried beatings” on wylan at the end of soc as well, and the other crows were given physical trauma by someone not close to them but he was literally beat and verbally abused by his piece of shit father

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

the hungering hearts

circle III: gluttony

But he feels warm, pleased. He leans against the back of the chair and watches her

He can hear her heart and it’s the rhythm that he can recognize; it’s the melody that sings to him whenever he lowers his mouth to her neck, to her wrist, to her thigh.

kanej vampire au/ read on ao3

*

The businesses begin to suffer. Not much, nothing to be concerned about. But he’s more concerned about how unconcerned he is about it. He does the books absent-mindedly, cataloging the losses. Reads the Council meeting minutes and extracts interesting tidbits of information; stores them in his brain for safe-keeping and never uses them.

Pekka Rollins still doesn’t come back, and now he thinks he knows why. The scientist - the Ice Court, the streets talk. Oh, what a job. A dream for a thief. And he would've pulled it off, he thinks. He could’ve extracted Bo Yul-Bayur and given him to the highest bidder on a silver platter if Van Eck was smart enough to ask him, not Rollins. With the right crew: with his Wraith, with Jesper. With Nina and the insider knowledge of her brainless Fjerdan hunk. And with Wylan Van Eck as insurance - he still doesn’t quite believe his insistence that his father would not hesitate before double-conning the crew that holds his son. In and out, quiet like rats in the night. Yeah, he could’ve done it.

But alas, he didn’t. No need to focus on that.

What he is focused on is - ah, Inej. Inej, Inej. They walk into rooms together and people talk, in the corners, behind doors left ajar, and she squeezes his hand, small fingers closing on black leather, her dark eyes unbothered. Let them talk. And he knows why they talk. The walls of the Slat are dry, uneven and cardboard-thin. Every grunt and moan, every laugh and cry reverberates through the bones of the building. There are no secrets in the Slat, except for precious few.

And people have been saying that he’s sleeping with Inej ever since he brought her from the Menagerie. It bothered him then for some irritating, itching reason that he couldn’t put his finger on. It still bothers him now, except now it’s true.

Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want her name on their lips. Or at least, he doesn’t want it spoken with anything less than fear, less than respect. And she holds her head high, still, but whatever respect she has earned with her brass knuckles and her skills for the impossible gets muddled up by the way she moans for him, her face pressed into the bent of her elbow, when he fucks into her and the frame of her ramshackle bed bumps against the wall. He diminishes her worth. Spoils her.

At some point, Jesper stops barging into his office and pestering him for things, giving him moony-eyes. Ever since his Da came to the city and saw who his son became, he’s walking around the Barrel all mopey. Gambles more than ever. Loses more than ever. Takes Wylan to his bed, which was perfectly predictable of him to do, and then they fight for hours, even more predictably, and Kaz can spot him talking to Inej in hushed voice as she’s looking at him with some infinite patience and infinite pity written on her face.

Kaz doesn’t ask her what they’re talking about. And she doesn’t tell. He’s not that concerned about it anyway; Jesper can deal with his shit. He has had more ways out than most and still hasn’t learned his lesson. It’s not Kaz’s responsibility to coddle him any longer. Hopefully, he will have enough reason to leave with Colm.

Besides, there is war. There are market disturbances. There is Inej and the way she bites her lip and tilts her head to the side when she knows he’s looking. Her eyes gleam like twin lighthouses, and he can feel himself crashing against the rocks, sinking deep into the cold sea.

****read more on ao3***