#Justice For Medikal | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rorygilmoreclown · 2 years ago

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A start

Healer!reader x Nikolai Lanstov

Summary: The reader, who is a healer, was caught by drüskelle and then escaped their ship in a storm and then was rescued by Nikolai as Sturmhond and than slowly fall for each other and one day Nikolai sees reader hit on by someone else and gets jealous and sort of confesses. (I'm sorry I suck at summaries, also i changed the plot a bit so im sorry about that sorry sorry )

A/n: I took my sweet time, didn't I. Anyways, here it is, apologies for all the changes and this crappy writing. Might make a pt2, that's why the ending.

Warnings: None, except for this smirky smirky sunshine babygorl.

As you rouse from your slumber, a jarring realisation dawns upon you: you are no longer on your mission’s base. The scent of salt and brine pervades your nostrils, and the rhythmic groans and creaks of timber assault your ears. It takes only a moment to recall why you are in this predicament, and an acrid churning stirs within your gut.

You are a prisoner aboard the drüskelle vessel, trussed and bound, being ferried to their fortress to face their uncompromising brand of justice. The harsh squawks of the drüskelle assault your ears, censuring you for your supposed offences, their eyes brimming with nothing but antipathy and scorn for your Grisha talents. You strive to maintain your composure, reminding yourself of your mettle, but their venomous invective feels like barbs upon your flesh.

As the tempest rages on, you sense the ship pitching and yawing, at the mercy of the storm's capricious whims. Then, a deafening crack reverberates throughout the vessel, and you are flung forward, your head colliding with the bars of your cell. You hear the splintering of wood and the screams of the drüskelle, but all you can focus on is the pulsating throb in your head.

But then, a fortuitous miracle transpires. The cell confining you snaps free from its moorings and is hurled into the tumultuous waters. You acted quickly to save yourself, your appendages flailing as you struggled to stay afloat amidst the mayhem. Somehow, you manage to make it to the shore, gasping for air and quivering from the chill.

As you survey your surroundings, a colossal ship looms in the distance, and optimism swells within you, and so does dread. You remember that you are still clad in your kefta, and it may be your sole chance at survival, or another reason for a capture. As the ship draws closer, you discern a figure emerging from it, and your heart braces itself for either a negotiation or a fight. His eyes widen in astonishment as he espies you, a solitary survivor on the shore. He strides towards you, his voice ringing out like a sunbeam amidst the tempest.

Greetings madam, I am Sturmhond, the legendary privateer and captain of the vessel.

Are you injured, we have a medik on our ship? He paused, as if he said something humorous as well as imprecatory. Apologies for asking that question, is it offensive to ask a healer if they require medical assistance?

That was the first time you saw that stupid smirk followed by a loud yet comforting laughter. It sounded true, as if you weren’t on some abandoned island, about to ask for an abode from a stranger, and you feel a lump form in your throat as tears threaten to spill over. And that’s how you boarded the The Volkvolny.

You stare at Sturmhond in disbelief as he proposes his deal. Safety in exchange of your healing help. The words are hard to process, and your heart feels like it's in your throat. The thought of being safe from the Ravkans and drüskelle fills you with relief, but the idea of being on a ship with a stranger is daunting.

You take a deep breath and consider his offer, recalling the events that led you to this point. The Ravkan court, a place that was supposed to be safe and secure, turned into a nightmare when you were assaulted by one of its members. The thought of staying there was unbearable, and none of the other court members did anything to help you. You had to escape, and now you are at the mercy of a privateer captain.

But there is something about Sturmhond that feels different. His eyes are kind and understanding, and you get the sense that he genuinely cares about your well-being. You decide to take a chance, and nod your head in agreement.

He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Excellent. You won't regret it, I promise. And just to be clear, you will be safe from any Ravkans or drüskelle on my ship. You have my word.

As the ship sets sail, you find yourself growing more and more comfortable in your new surroundings. You observe the crew, their different backgrounds and stories, and feel a sense of belonging that you haven't felt in a long time. You start to let your guard down around Sturmhond, telling him about your past and your hopes for the future. He listens to you with empathy and understanding, and you feel like you can truly be yourself around him.

As a part-Shu, you find yourself forming a close bond with Tamar and Tolya aboard Sturmhond's ship. Tolya is a flirt, and he often directs his playful advances towards you. Sturmhond notices and becomes increasingly snippy, trying to interrupt your conversations with Tolya. But Tolya persists, sometimes just to get a rise out of Sturmhond.

One day, as you're assisting the ship's healer with her duties, Tolya comes up beside you and leans in close. Are you a healer? he whispers. Because you just cured my loneliness. You can't help but laugh at his audacity, but you know it's all in good fun.

In another scene, you're practising some Grisha skills with Tamar when Tolya approaches. Are you a Corporalki? he asks, grinning. Because you just made my heart skip a beat. Tamar rolls her eyes at Tolya's antics, and you can't help but chuckle at his attempt at humour.

A few days later, as you and Tolya are chatting on the deck, he looks at you intently. Are you a healer like me? he asks. Because I'm feeling a strong connection between us. You can't help but feel a small flutter in your chest at his words, but you know it's just Tolya being Tolya.

As the journey goes on, you appreciate Tolya's sense of humour and his easy going nature. You come to see him as a good friend and confidant, and you value the bond you share. One night, as the two of you are sitting alone on the deck, Tolya looks at you with a tender expression. Are you a Bonesmith? he asks softly. Because you just mended my broken heart. You smile at his words, but you know that you don't feel anything more than friendship for him. Unfortunately, Sturmhond takes these positive affirmations as an indicator of your interest in Tolya. As Tolya departs to attend to some task, you're left feeling grateful for the friendship you share and the camaraderie of your journey aboard Sturmhond's ship.

As time passes on, the tension between you and the captain grows, being very transparent for everyone but you two. The night was alive with laughter and music as Sturmhond's crew celebrated their latest successful mission. You were enjoying the festivities, chatting with Tamar and Tolya when a Ravkan nobleman approached you. He looked at you with a smirk on his lips, his eyes scanning your body. Well, well, well. What do we have here? A part-Shu healer? You must be quite the exotic beauty.

You felt uncomfortable under his gaze and tried to step back, but the nobleman grabbed your arm tightly. Tolya and Tamar shot him a sharp look, but he ignored them. Just as you were about to say something, Sturmhond appeared by your side, his arm wrapped around your waist possessively. There you are, my love. I've been searching for you everywhere.

The Ravkan nobleman's eyes widened in surprise at Sturmhond's sudden appearance. Oh, I didn't know you had a lover. Sturmhond gave a charming smile, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly. Yes, she's quite dear to me. Now, if you'll excuse us.

He guided you away from the nobleman, leading you to a quieter corner of the room. You could feel his eyes on you, watching your reaction to the incident. Are you all right? he asked, his tone laced with concern. You nodded, grateful for his intervention. Thank you, Sturmhond. I was getting a little uncomfortable there.

He gave you a small smile, his hand still resting on your waist. I won't let anyone make you feel uncomfortable. After a boyish smirk that broke on his face, indicating of his crooked humour slipping through this serious situation, you knew it was to make the mood lighter. Afterall, the deal was to protect you from the Ravkans.

As the night wore on, you found yourself drawn to Sturmhond's protectiveness, his easy charm making your heart race. And as the party came to an end, you couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was something more between the two of you. Although you were a little disappointed as he mentioned protecting you only due to the deal.

After Sturmhond rescued you from the trespasser at the party, he dragged you to the higher part of the ship. Your heart was pounding with anticipation, wondering what he wanted to tell you. As he looked at you with his piercing blue eyes, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and safety in his presence. You couldn't help but notice how he kept looking at you with that intense gaze of his. Was he jealous of the other man who was flirting with you earlier? Did he really have feelings for you?

Suddenly, Sturmhond broke the silence with a joke, So, I'm guessing we're officially boyfriend and girlfriend now? You couldn't help but chuckle at his playful tone. He couldn't believe he had just made that joke. He had been wanting to confess his feelings to you for so long but was too afraid of rejection. Was he being too subtle? Did she even get the hint?

Feeling bold, you responded with a joke of your own, I don't know, Sturmhond. You'll have to take me on a proper date first. You couldn't resist teasing him a little. After all, he had been flirting with you all night. As you both laughed at your playful banter, Sturmhond reached out and gently took your hand in his. He held his breath as he waited for your response. Did he really just confess his love to you? Was he about to get his heart broken? You couldn't believe it. The person you had been crushing on for so long felt the same way. Was this really happening?

As Sturmhond leaned in for a kiss, you closed your eyes and let yourself be swept away in the moment. All of your doubts and worries faded away as you realised that you had found the person who made your heart feel whole. As he kissed you, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. He had finally told you how he felt, and you had reciprocated. This was the start of something new, and he couldn't wait to see where it would take them.

Word Count: 1.8k

#grishaverse #nikolai #six of crows #nikolai x reader #nikolai lanstov #shadow and bone #nikolai lanstov x reader #prince nikolai #rule of wolves #king nikolai #nikolai duology

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parkersbliss · 3 years ago

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Hello sweetheart! First of all, how dare you rip my heart out with that last fic (fourteen)? It was so beautiful but sad and I might’ve let a tear slip, but okay. I don’t really know if your requests are still open, so if not, just send me a message or something❤️

I have a shadow and bone request from the prompt list: 035 “don’t look at me like that” and 043 “your hands are really soft”. It’s a bit of a specific request, so sorry in advance. I’ve had the idea for a while.

Maybe a fic with Kaz’ s/o being an artist? They’ve gotten heavily injured on their good hand/arm during a heist and after only a few days recovery, they try to write/paint/draw (you pick) again. Their hand just can’t stop shaking and it really bothers them, so with much contemplation, Kaz grabs their hand to calm them down? Just starting angsty and ending in fluff, if you catch my drift?

Thank you in advance! If you do want to write it, please take your time and don’t feel rushed. I don’t know how many requests you have at the moment, but I know it takes a lot of time to write something. Stay safe during these times please❤️

IM SORRY ABOUT FOURTEEN 😭 in my defense, I’m supposed to make people cry as a writer so—

ANYWAY, thank you for your request!! it’s a bit short but I hope you still like it <3 thank you for your kinds words & stay safe!

Paint | K. Brekker

035: “Don’t look at me like that.” 043: “Your hands are really soft.”

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

“Get down!”

“What?”

“It’s going to explode!”

“What?” Inej shouts.

Just like Kaz said, the ground beneath your feet begins to tremble, and an explosion ensues after. You’re thrown over, bracing your fall with your hands. It goes against everything you’ve been told, but it’s instinctive. At first, you don’t feel it, but when you try to push yourself back up, the pain shoots up your arm.

You fall forward, letting out a cry. Something was wrong with your hand. How could you be so stupid? Using your hands as a brace was sure to result in some kind of damage.

Your ears are still ringing, and you look at your hand to see it red and swollen. You attempt to move it and hiss out in pain.

“Is everyone okay?” Kaz asked.

You can see Inej and Jesper emerge from the rumble. Jesper rubs his shoulder a bit but gives Kaz a thumbs up; Inej gives him a nod.

“I think,” You let out a strangled breath. “I think I sprained my wrist.”

“Can you rotate it?” Inej asked, walking over to you.

You shake your head, swallowing your tears. “No.”

“It might be broken,” Inej said, looking to Kaz with worried eyes.

He purses his lips. “You can still walk, right?”

You nod.

“We’ll go see a Medik then.”

You push yourself to your feet with your good hand and cradle the injured one to your chest. Kaz gives you an almost worried glance but continues on. You can tell he’s hurt too. His limp is worse than usual.

The mission was somewhat successful. It would’ve been better if you all hadn’t been overtaken by an explosion. But things rarely ever go right for you guys. Serves as the universe's way of ‘justice.’

As soon as you got back to the Slat, Kaz called a medik to come to check you out. They told you what you already knew. It was sprained.

It could be worse, you told yourself. It could’ve been broken or snapped clean in half. Sprained was a good thing.

But it wasn’t.

You just nodded at the medik, pretending like everything was fine. Why wouldn’t it be? Just a sprained wrist... on the hand you did everything with. Besides being a thief, you loved to paint. Any free time you got you spent painting in the slat. It served as an escape from everything. It helped you clear your head and think after a day's events. But now you couldn’t. Not after today, when you needed it most. The Medik wrapped your wrist and told you to lay off of it for a while.

Kaz volunteered to have Inej or Jesper help you with anything, and you thanked him with a smile before excusing yourself to your room.

Your wrist would be fine in a few weeks. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. Yet day after day, you stared at your blank canvas and itched to get back to it.

Some days you would pick up a paintbrush, but you could never bring yourself to paint. What if you made your wrist worse? Then what? You could make it so much worse with a single brush stroke. It was driving you crazy.

“Then paint,” Kaz said.

“It’s not that simple, Kaz,” You explained, staring out the window to the streets of Ketterdam below.

“(Y/N), you’ve been patient for weeks. The medik cleared you.”

“But what if-,”

“One stroke.”

“Just one?”

“One,” He repeated, gesturing to the easel you set up in his office. Kaz had a beautiful view of the city, and often you found yourself painting in his office. He was good company anyway.

With shaky hands and a deep breath, you pick up the paintbrush. It feels familiar in your hands, but as you dip it into the paint, something changes.

The paint drips off of the brush, but you don’t move. You just stare at the blank canvas; you can’t help the shaking in your hand. The medik had cleared you. He had said to just be careful. But what if he was wrong? What if you forgot how to paint in the month you were stuck in the brace? There were so many questions pouring through your head, and you just stood there stupidly, gripping a paintbrush with drops flying everywhere.

After a few moments, you let out an exasperated breath and drop the paintbrush.

Kaz raises an eyebrow at you.

You scoff, trying to look unaffected. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Try again,” He said softly.

“I can’t,” You protest weakly.

Kaz doesn’t say anything else, he just stares at you, and it’s enough for you to pick up the brush again.

But your hands still shake, and your fear is as real as before. Kaz watches, and he can see your eyes glass over as you grip the paintbrush tighter. He didn’t understand what was holding you back. He wanted to, but he couldn’t.

There wasn’t much he could do, and it bugged him in ways he didn’t know he could be bugged. He wanted to help you, but he can’t. He wants to reach for you, touch you and tell you it’s alright, but he knows he can’t. Kaz isn’t stupid. He knows what holds him back. He just wished it didn’t. Maybe that’s what he had to prove.

If he could prove to you that he can get over his fear, then maybe it’ll push you to get over yours. Easier said than done.

Kaz takes a shuddering breath, stepping towards you.

You look at him with confused eyes.

They’re alive.

With his own shaky hands, Kaz grabs yours. It startles you, and you stare at your intertwined hands, breath caught in your throat.

“Kaz?”

“Your hands are really soft,” He whispered. You’re unsure if you were supposed to hear that.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

He nods meekly. “I wanted to prove to you that I could do this. If I can touch you, you can paint.”

You meet his eyes, nodding your head. He did this for you; he was holding your hands.

Kaz carefully lets go, and you pick up the paintbrush, painting a single stroke on your canvas.

#kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker one shot #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker

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fiifiadinkra · 5 years ago

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StarrBoy x Patapaa - One Cedi

StarrBoy x Patapaa – One Cedi

Fast rising artist StarrBoy releases new single dubbed ‘One Cedi’ featuring hit maker Patapaa.

The song ‘One Cedi’ is a straight banger, and its a party song.

Produce by Aman Gee.

CHECK OUT: Kwachie Adie – Elikplim (Feat. Obibini & Fameye)

StarrBoy x Patapaa – One Cedi [DOWNLOAD]

https://ghanandwom.net/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/StarrBoy-x-Patapaa-One-Cedi-Prod-by-A…

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anonniemousefics · 4 years ago

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Wildfire

Originally posted on Ao3

Fandoms: Six of Crows/Crooked Kingdom | Kaz + Inej

Word count: 5,566

****Rating: NSFW (aged-up characters) -- It’s good and smutty.****

This belongs in The Trouble With Wanting series, best read after These Damn Crosswinds.

TW for mentions of PTSD, sexual trauma. And also a cliffhanger, but only kinda. The rest is on Ao3 if you really can’t wait. I’m just slow at migrating this stuff over.

Synopsis: The morning after a difficult first night in Kaz's bed brings a number of surprises, both good and terrible.

Inej Ghafa lived for the moments when she could see something entirely new. It was the sea captain in her, the song of her soul that called to new horizons.

So it was a salve to her aching soul that morning to wake up first, to look across the great expanse of white sheets on Kaz Brekker’s enormous new bed, and see him sleeping peacefully there. She’d never seen this side of him before, looking so boyish, lying on his stomach, one cheek smooshed into the pillow. His dark hair was mussed across his forehead, and he was so still, she resisted the urge to lay a hand on his back muscles to check on him. But she knew better than to startle him with a brush of bare skin in the morning.

Instead, she rolled onto her back, drawing in a deep breath into her heartsick chest while she stared up at the newly-vaulted ceilings of Kaz’s renovated Slat. Her head throbbed as if she was hungover. She wiped a hand over her sandy eyelashes, a first attempt to wipe away the debris of a freshly opened wound.

She’d fallen asleep on top of the blankets, fully clothed, like a crazy woman. She rather wished she hadn’t. The bed was irresistibly comfortable, as evidenced by Kaz’s rare deep slumber, and it was big enough that she had been able to sleep so far from his body warmth that she may as well have slept alone. She wished she hadn’t needed that, too.

She wished a lot of things. This was not how she’d wanted to spend her first night in Kaz’s bed.

No one else would have noticed how excited Kaz was to show her the changes to The Slat, but Inej could see it, no matter how hard he tried to play it cool. She saw it in the way he bit the inside of his lip to hold back his smile, saw the light in his coffee-black eyes, the crooked quirk in his dark eyebrows. Kaz Brekker was happy. Whatever he’d done to The Slat had brought back a little spring in his step.

He had a newspaper slung under one arm as he rattled the skeleton key in the door’s lock. She jabbed at it, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Is your new spider really this bad?” she joked. “You’re having to buy papers like everyone else on the streets?”

She expected him to snark back, maybe tease her about spying for him again, but, instead, there was an almost imperceptible tension that arose. His jaw tightened. He swallowed a moment.

“Suspected firepox case was reported last night. It’s not right to send a spider out to confirm.” He said it as casually as if he was commenting on the weather, but Inej was already grabbing the paper from under his arm.

There was nothing the Kerch feared more than firepox. Highly contagious disease was the one thing their money couldn’t buy their way out of. And, of all rich Kerch men, Kaz had reason to fear it the most. No one else in Ketterdam knew its horrors like quite like Kaz.

Sure enough, the headlines plastering the Ketterdam Ledger above the fold were all about a single patient being quarantined in the capital’s hospital. Every word attempted to soothe rattled citizens that their mediks had the situation under control. There were no plans to sound the alarms yet.

And this is what she was gazing over when the sketch of a familiar face caught her eye and immediately froze her insides. They had stepped into The Slat, smelling of fresh wood floors and new paint, and somewhere in her, she knew she ought to have been looking it over, letting Kaz guide her through this grand unveiling, but now she was caught. She couldn’t look away from the horrible newsprint in front of her.

“Inej?” Kaz’s voice sounded like it was underwater. The perimeter of her vision grew fuzzy and grey, a tunnel surrounding the words on the page.

The headlines were calling the man the Butcher of the Barrel, and she would have known his face anywhere, even though Tante Heleen had never told her the names of her clients. The girls all grew quiet when he came to call, trying to press themselves into the darkness to avoid his gaze. He liked it when girls cried.

Now that seemed to be the least evil aspect of him.

Inej was looking over the names of the victims and didn’t feel her knees start to give out.

“Inej!” Kaz caught her by the forearms before she went down, holding her to his body. “Inej, what is it?”

She thrust a shaking arm at him, pushing the newspaper back into his hands. Sweat prickled across her forehead as she stepped back, her mind a whirl of suddenly vivid memories. She wrapped her arms around herself while Kaz looked over the headlines.

“This one?” he asked, holding up the sketch. “This murderer the Stadwatch arrested?”

Inej could only nod. She could smell the man’s foul scent even now, cheap ale and sausages and kitchen grease. She could feel his rough, thick hands against her bones, the ache of bruises he left behind. His slick, wet tongue in her ear, hissing the name Tante Heleen had given her. “Little Lynx. Are you going to cry, little Lynx?”

Kaz was folding up the paper, tossing it to his desk. His eyes had darkened, his lips pursed tight.

“I can take care of this.” From the low gravel in his voice, Inej knew he understood. At least half of it.

“Kaz.” Saints, was that her voice? She sounded like a small girl. “The murders he’s been charged with. The three girls.”

Kaz flicked a hard gaze her direction, already scheming.

“Lena. Nadya. Mayu. I knew them each, before they disappeared. They were all…” Why was her voice failing her so badly?

“The Menagerie,” Kaz said for her, and Inej nodded. Her chest felt tight, and she tried to draw in a breath.

“He picked his victims from The Menagerie, Kaz,” she choked. “I saw him there. He was--” She couldn’t say it. As much as she hated the memories, she hated even more for Kaz to remember what she had done there. Hot tears were coming fast now. “It could have been me. I could have--”

Kaz was rummaging through his desk drawer, dumping ammunition out across his desktop.

“Kaz.” She tried to make her voice sound stronger. “Kaz, stop.”

“You know this has to be done,” Kaz rasped. He barely glanced up as he loaded his revolver.

She did know. Men like this paid for the best lawyers, bribed judges, negotiated light sentences. Men like this blamed girls, claimed self-defense or accidents or amnesia, any absurdity but their own evil. Men like this deserved to bleed.

“Kaz,” she still chided.

“Do not ask me to be a better man to this filth,” Kaz snapped, sharply. “I am not, and I won’t. You should be giving me names--”

“They never gave me their names.” Something new was rising in Inej as her head spun and her face burned. Something furious. And her voice rose. “And even if they did, these are my scores to settle. You have no right to their names. You have no right to rob me of my justice.”

“They touched you.” Kaz’s face flushed a livid red, the sinew in his neck visible when he yelled. “They touched my--” But he stopped himself, mouth twitching. He planted his clenched fists on his desk as Inej glared at him, daring him to finish. “This is personal,” was all he said when he picked up his gun again.

This man. This infuriating man. One minute she loved him, the next minute she was ready to strangle him. How could he simultaneously be so clever and yet so stupid?

“It is not your score to settle,” Inej said, firmly, and then as he slipped the revolver in his pocket, she grew desperate. “If you leave tonight and deny me this, Kaz Brekker, I will never forgive you.”

Kaz’s glare was flint and steel when he froze, but she kept herself standing tall and firm. Finally, after what felt like ages inside a moment, he huffed a relinquishing sigh.

“What is it you want.” It didn’t come out as a question, and Inej felt raw from the entire exchange.

What did she want? She couldn’t say. Moments that had once felt long forgotten now crawled across her skin and licked at her ear. She felt small and helpless, a feeling she had worked for years to never feel again. She thought of the three girls, of Lena and Nadya and Mayu, and how they had cowered in fear of this butcher just as she had, how small and helpless they had been, too. How that was the last of this world they had known. She wanted to remember them differently. She wanted to rewrite their ending. She wanted moments they would all never have, moments killing this man tonight would never bring.

And Kaz stood, waiting with his jaw tight, oblivious and belligerent, and Inej felt the tears sting her eyes. It took only a moment for Kaz to become the unfortunate lightning rod for the storm brewing inside of her.

“You have the emotional intelligence of a bearded goat,” she seethed at him, her voice trembling, and she swore in Suli and crawled into bed.

“Why a bearded goat?” Kaz was the first to break the silence of the early morning. The gentle burr of his voice was thick and rumbly from sleep. When Inej looked at him, feeling considerably more tender than the night before, he still hadn’t opened his eyes, his bare arms shoved under his pillow.

“They have dumb faces,” Inej said.

“Because of the beard?” Kaz lifted his dark eyebrows, his sleep-swollen eyes still shut.

“Mhmm.”

“Got it.”

She watched him stretch and roll onto his back, groaning as joints in his bad leg cracked and complained. To his credit, he had not tried to fight further the night before. She wouldn’t have had the energy to anyway. The onslaught of visceral memories from The Menagerie had overwhelmed her completely, and her eyes had leaked silent tears while she waited for sleep’s escape. She’d been vaguely aware that Kaz had lain next to her, but she’d wanted nothing from him. At some point, they had both fallen asleep.

“Thank you for staying,” Inej said, in the light of the dawn. Kaz scrubbed his hands over his face with a deep sigh. He was rolling out his bad ankle in slow, painful circles beneath the white sheets.

“You were right,” he rasped after a moment, looking over the pillows at her and Inej blinked in surprise. The bed was enormous; he suddenly seemed so far away.

“I want that in writing,” Inej said, narrowing her eyes, and Kaz quirked a tired smirk as he rolled over on his side to face her. Inej felt drawn to the warmth in his sleepy, coffee-black eyes, the paradox of the delicate lashes that framed them.

“The thought of what they did to you,” he said, his voice tight, “that anyone could do that to you – I just --” He pushed his hair off his forehead as he scrambled for words. Inej found herself staring at the swell of his bicep. “I know it’s your score to settle. I know it’s your battle to fight. But I hate myself for not seeing you sooner. For not sparing you this. I’ve tried for years to make it right--”

“There is nothing in this for you to make right,” Inej interrupted. “We were kids.” She rolled to her side to face him.

“I was perfectly capable of ripping out throats then,” Kaz countered. “I was too blinded by revenge to see what was happening to you.”

“Is there nothing on this earth you won’t blame yourself for? You are not responsible for their choices, Kaz, nor should you be held responsible for stopping them. You were fifteen--”

“I was old enough to see what you were light and magic and everything good in the world. I was old enough to fall in love with you.” His words caught her breath in her throat. He’d put down his armor before, but never quite like this. “I was old enough to avenge you, too.”

“Kaz…” she breathed, and stretched out a hand across the expanse of bed between them. His expression still weighed heavy as he entwined their fingers, looking over her dark hand in his pale one.

“Do you know what I thought the moment I first saw you?” he asked, venturing a glance in her direction. Inej shook her head as she tucked one arm under her pillow.

“I thought to myself, ‘This girl could have killed me just now,’” Kaz went on, without a trace of jest. “Animals that are caged go one of two ways. They either end up lying in a corner and hiding from everything, or they start to rage and lash out and bite and tear at any hand that gets near them. And I saw that rage in you, and I knew I couldn’t risk you falling to the Dime Lions. I knew I needed you on my side.”

“So, it wasn’t love at first sight, is what you’re telling me.” Inej raised a wary eyebrow.

“I’m telling you that what happened to those girls could never have happened to you,” Kaz said. “I told you that you were dangerous, and I have always meant it. I’m willing to bet the butcher knew it, too. That’s…that’s all I should have said last night.”

Inej ran her thumb over his scarred knuckles, looking over their laced fingers and the weight of memories they both held. There was a time when she would have rushed right out for first blood. But there was something more valuable, she was learning, in the space she took to grieve, to lay down her armor, to share the burden with the one who loved her. And he had proved, yet again, it was not too much to bear.

The time for blood would come. For now, all she wanted was Kaz.

“I sound like someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with,” she teased.

“Yes, well,” Kaz gave her that irresistible smirk, “I don’t claim to have the soundest judgment in that area.”

“And my house has far too much glass for me to be throwing stones,” Inej said with a wink, toying with his fingers in hers til he grinned.

“Come here and kiss me,” he begged.

“Say ‘please.’” She pressed back a smile.

“Inej, my darling,” Kaz began to edge closer to her, the covers sliding across his bare torso, “treasure of my heart, love of my life,” and he tucked one arm under her pillow, leaning next to her as she smiled up at him, “for gods’ sake, please kiss me already.”

And Inej took his face in her hands and pulled him down to her, a kiss wholly unlike any she’d felt yet. Perhaps it was the words he’d said that gave the kiss its sweetness. Or the sincerity in his dark eyes that give it its fire. Whatever was to blame, Inej found herself turning towards him to match his fervor, her body like a magnet pulled toward his. He ran one hand along her rib cage, and his fingertips brushed against her midriff as her top slid upward. Saints, those lockpick fingers. If the Saints had ever known the tenderness of a thief’s hands, they would never have declared them sinners.

She sighed against his mouth as Kaz ran gentle fingertips up her spine, beneath her shirt. From the crooked smirk she saw on his lips when she pulled back, she could tell he relished how she reacted, the cheeky bastard.

“Have I said I was sorry?” he murmured when their foreheads touched. His sly fingers were drawing lazy circles across her back, and each slow turn released achy tension she’d held inside of her since the moment she saw the butcher’s face in the paper.

“You have not,” she sighed, her eyes slipping closed.

A soft kiss against her forehead. Slow, steady circles across her shoulder blades.

“I am sorry,” he whispered. “Ghezen strike me dead if I ever rob you of your justice.”

“You don’t believe in Ghezen.”

“One of your Saints, then. Pick the baddest, meanest bloke. That one.”

“No.” Inej squirmed a little closer into his warmth, tucking her head into his neck.

“No?” She felt his voice rumble in his chest.

“No,” she repeated. “I like you too much to risk it.”

She could feel the smile on his cheek pressed against her hair, and she breathed in his scent, soap-clean and musky. Here, she was worlds away from the men who’d used her, the people who tried to destroy her. Her story would always contain their faces and their misdeeds. That was inescapable. But here, in Kaz’s hands, her story could take a new turn.

Here, physical intimacy was made of completely new sights, sensations, even scents. Here was her exception. Here it was different. Here she would always be safe.

She knew this deep in her bones, curled against him, his fingertips brushing against the smooth planes of her back. She could have stayed all day there. As it was, she lost track of how much time had passed. She simply closed her eyes and let him hold her.

But then, slowly, she felt his hand slide out of her shirt, linger at her hip for just a moment, before Kaz began to inch out from under her, toward the far-off edge of the bed. He must have thought she’d fallen asleep.

“Don’t go,” she said, reaching for his wrist.

“I have work, love,” and Kaz leaned over to kiss her lips once more. “You can come, too, if you want. Or stay. The bed’s for you as much as it is for me.”

But Inej wasn’t interested in taking no for an answer. They’d wasted their whole first evening in the newly renovated Slat because of some stupid newspaper. All she could see now was the boy who’d loved her for ages, the man she’d been counting down the days to hold again.

“You’re a Barrel boss. Show up when you want.” She tugged playfully at the loose waistband of his sleeping trousers, and added, as if her mouth suddenly had a mind of its own: “Work on me instead.”

Kaz’s dark eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline as she pulled again at his trousers, a teasing smirk on her kiss-swollen lips.

“Fucking hell, Inej,” he swore, but he wasn’t putting up much of a fight. She stifled a chuckle when she pushed herself upright. She took his face in one hand and pulled him down to her again. The unshaven stubble on his jawline was rough against her palm, but his mouth was as soft as her dreams of him at sea. He gave a relinquishing sigh against her lips as she moved her hands to his hair, raking her fingernails against his scalp. She could feel his body giving in, growing as careless as she was about the time, his hands sliding over her hip bones as she pulled him up against her body again.

And, for the first time, she wanted his body over hers, to feel engulfed against his solid muscles, to be his entirely. Her exception. Her haven. She ran her hands over his wide shoulders, down the slopes of his back muscles, and pulled his waist toward hers.

“Leg.” Kaz pulled back with a sharp wince and a grunt, as he tried to shift his body so his bad leg wouldn’t bear his weight.

“Sorry!” Inej was instantly apologetic. “Damn, this makes me the bearded goat now.”

Kaz huffed a strained laugh as he shifted between her legs, bracing himself with his arms over her while he tried to find a comfortable balance. And Inej found herself staring at the corded muscle in his arms, the tattoos on his forearm and bicep, the hard planes down his chest and torso, and she was seized with the need to know if the rest of him could feel as wonderful as his hands against the rest of her.

And while he was still adjusting his weight, she quickly, without much thought at all, crossed her arms in front of her, grabbed the hem of her shirt, and pulled it off over her head. The cotton sheets felt smooth and cool beneath her bare back.

Kaz froze, wide-eyed in surprise. That would never get old.

“Is this all right for your leg?” Inej asked beneath him.

“What?” Kaz looked mesmerized. “I don’t know, maybe, it’s fine.”

And Inej laughed as he eagerly lowered himself onto his elbows, and she thought she heard his breath catch when her breasts pressed against his bare chest. She let her hands explore the smooth skin across the breadth of his back while he buried his face in her neck, kissing her throat, her collarbone, nipping at her earlobe. His breath was warm against her ear, sending shivers dancing down her spine.

When he ran one hand over her rib cage, to softly cup underneath her breast, Inej gripped at his waist with her thighs, desperate only to feel closer to him. No one had ever felt like this against her, but then, she’d never wanted someone so completely. No one had ever taken so much time and care to unlock her secrets, to know what she craved.

“I love you,” she whispered. It leapt from her lips like it had been cut free.

When Kaz pulled back when he’d heard it, his dark hair had fallen in his eyes, his sharp cheekbones flushed. And he kissed her fiercely, cupping her cheek, parting her lips gently with his tongue.

“I love you,” he told her when they each took a breath, and Inej couldn’t help smiling while he kissed her again. “I always have. I always will.”

Inej’s heart was soaring, slamming against her rib cage, as she melted beneath his lips. She nipped at his bottom lip and let him flick his tongue against hers while his hands roamed freely across her body, her breasts, her waist, the underside of her thighs, like he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t decide where to land. And Inej’s breath grew ragged – how many nights at sea had she imagined having his hands on her like this? Desire spread like wildfire through her veins, pooling between her legs as she rolled her hips against his.

At the movement, he shot her a surprised glance, his breath shallow, his swollen lips parted. So, she did it again, a silent reassurance that she was with him, that she wasn’t vanishing. That she wanted. And when he moved to repeat her motion, a little stiff and awkward at first while he delicately tried to keep weight off his bad leg, she felt the hard press of his full erection against her center, rubbing just right against her, and she drew in a breath, welcoming the small rush of pleasure.

She slid her hands down to the hard muscle near the base of his spine, pressing him against her again, grinding up against his hardness so that he groaned in the back of his throat when his lips brushed her neck again.

A year ago, she’d only wished the ghosts of her pasts could be so efficiently exorcised. Now, the haunts of the previous night lived where they belonged – in the past. Now, there was only the man she loved, who loved her, and the all-encompassing longing that overtook her mind, her heart, her body. She wanted every inch of him, anything he could give her.

He was pushing himself up off her body, to put more weight against his hard cock as it rubbed against her folds through her trousers, and she slid her fingers down over his tense abdomen, hungry for more of him. She skimmed over his thin trail of jet-black hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers, before hooking her thumbs in the fabric and giving a little tug.

A question. A request. A silent plea.

Kaz stopped and looked over her face, panting even as he examined her expression.

“Are you sure?” His brow was furrowed. How many times had new territory only unleashed new demons? She both loved and regretted his careful consideration.

She bit her lip as she nodded. He had stoked the fire in her, and now it raged, desperate, unquenchable. It was worth the risk. And, as if to up the ante and force his hand, she slipped her fingers into her own trousers and began to slide them off.

“Let’s just try.” Her whisper was laced with lust.

“Try,” Kaz echoed. He pushed himself to one side of her as she removed her trousers, lying bare beside him. She watched the rise and fall of his chest as she did, taking in how nervous he was. Hoping she wasn’t pushing them too far.

But then again, they had survived every disappointment, every setback so far. This was who they were. They never stopped fighting.

And this was one battle she had never felt so desperate to fight.

“Is this all right?” she checked. She would always check.

This time, though, Kaz released a tense puff of air.

“You’re asking me?” His brows cinched together in disbelief. “You do remember you called me a bearded goat not even twelve bells ago?”

“And you called me an investment once, and yet, here we are.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

“…shit. Inej, you have terrible taste in men.”

“Fine, then, I’ll put my clothes back on.”

“Counter offer,” Kaz interjected, desperately pulling her close to his body once more as she grinned, “I settle the debt. I make it up to you.”

“Interesting.” This ridiculous man. As if he had anything to make up to her. But she did enjoy his games. “I’ll hear your proposal, Brekker.”

Instead, he bent his head to kiss the base of her throat, to brush his lips over her sternum as her gently stroked one of her nipples with a thumb. Her face felt hot as she drew in a breath, and he glanced up with a mischievous smirk as he slowly shifted his body over hers again. And he began to trail slow, methodical kisses down her body: over her breasts, down to her navel, stroking her waist, her hips as he moved down back between her legs.

She found she was holding her breath in anticipation as he ran his long fingers through the spangle of soft curls over her cunt, his dark eyes always watching her, calculating and careful. He bent his head to gently kiss the soft, tender skin on the inside of her thighs, and she propped herself up on her elbows, in fascination. His kisses up her legs were as soft as a bird’s wing, barely there and yet all she could feel.

And then she gasped in spite of herself, her eyes fluttering, as he left a slow, hot kiss against her clit.

“A decent offer?” Kaz rasped, and stroked the inside of her folds with the back of one finger.

“Saints, Kaz,” was all she could breathe, abandoning all pretense of wit. Kaz just chuckled as he pressed his lips back into against her clit.

She sighed, dropping from her elbows, flopping into the pillows, as Kaz wrapped his arms under her hips, his hands at her waist. His tongue worked in slow, gentle strokes up the strip of her folds, and she’d never even dared to hope a man could make her feel so good.

His breath was hot against her cunt as he gently sucked at her soft, wet lips, and it made her fingers twist in the white sheets. Suli curses were brimming on her tongue, and she bit her lip, the swirl of sensation and warmth and desire spiraling up through her body. And fuck, he had learned her quickly. She could sense his attention fixated on her, sense it in the way he changed pace, changed pressure, ever so slightly, every time her breath caught, her body writhed, her voice betrayed her. If this was how he would settle their debts from now on, she’d let him borrow from her every goddamn day.

He was driving her to the brink, and she would fall willingly, hard and fast. Her toes were curling as his mouth moved quickly over her pussy, and he brought one hand from her waist, and just as she was praying his fingers would work her like they had in the bathroom at the Geldrenner, he was pushing in one finger and then two, caressing her ridges while his tongue stroked against her clit.

The curses she’d been holding back where no match for it. Her whole body was taut, barely containing the tension and the flames he fanned. Her back arched; she swore loud enough, she worried people on the streets below would hear. And soon after a wave of intense pleasure exploded from her core, rattling up her spine, sending her whole body quaking beneath his hands.

Her heart raced underneath her palm as she pressed a hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath. She hadn’t realized she’d broken a sweat. When she opened her eyes again, Kaz had worked his way back up beside her on the bed, with a smug look on his face.

“You bastard,” she panted, poking him in the chest.

“Excuse you,” he raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not sorry.” She heaved a deep, satisfied sigh. “If this is how you make up, I’m going to fight you every day.”

And Kaz gave a chuckle, leaning down to kiss her.

“Your turn,” she said when he sat back, and his grin grew wider as he fumbled with the drawstring on his waistband.

But then, the alarm bells began to sound.

The actual fucking alarm bells.

Inej was toying with his trousers, slipping her fingers beneath the fabric over his hip bones, when the peal of bells broke through the dawn air, echoing through the streets of Ketterdam. And she stopped, cocking her head to one side, as she looked up at Kaz.

“Is that--?” she started, but from the way the color drained from his face, she didn’t need to ask more.

Ketterdam had built these bells for one purpose, for the Kerch’s worst nightmare: the plague. The Dregs had used this to their advantage once before, a false epidemic to stage an escape. But this wasn’t fake.

Kaz had leapt from the bed to limp to the window as Inej began hurriedly pulling on her trousers. Now she was recalling the other headlines she’d forgotten from the night before, emblazoned over the top half of the Ketterdam Ledger.

Firepox.

The necrotic infection moved faster and killed quicker than any butcher that lurked these streets. Its body count was higher than any Barrel boss’. Kaz still fought the ghosts of its victims, all these years later.

Inej was pulling her shirt back over her head as Kaz leaned out the open window. Shouting and hurried footsteps over cobblestones echoed up from the streets. Mediks and Stadwatch were cordoning off every block, quarantining everyone in their homes.

“What are you doing?” Kaz had turned back to her as Inej laced up her boots, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I have to get back to my ship,” she replied, “before they seal off the harbor.”

“It’s already too late.” There was something oddly hollow about Kaz’s voice. “The docks are the first thing they’ll close off. No one in, no one out.”

“I have to try,” Inej insisted. “My crew--”

“They will blow you out of the water before they allow a potentially infected ship out of these harbors,” Kaz snapped. “Don’t be a fool.”

“Then I have to make sure my crew is safe.”

“No one is safe, Inej. This isn’t some gang of thugs you can fight off--”

“Spare me your condescension; I know exactly what this is. That’s why I have to hurry.”

The legs of Kaz’s desk chair scraped against the floor as he sat down hard in it, wincing as he stretched out his bad leg. He closed his eyes tight as he gripped at his aching knee. She could only imagine how impossibly heavy this moment weighed on him, but she was a captain and she could not abandon her crew.

“Go.” His voice rasped hard like gravel. “Get as far away from here as you can.”

Inej crossed to him and reached out to hold his face, but he jerked his head away at the last moment.

“I love you,” she repeated, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I will not be gone long. We will pick up where we left off.”

He hadn’t moved when she jumped up on the windowsill. She gave him one quick glance over her shoulder, knowing she would be back in only a few hours, before slipping out over the rooftops.

Read the conclusion here: Stars In The Darkness

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