#but drawing him playing it was hard enough without the funky spikes

[whaliiwatching]

jammin’ in the sunlight

[lailyn]

A Funny Turn

For @kymera219

Pairing: Loki/Tony Stark

Prompt: Epilepsy

The first time it happened, Tony did not think too much of it. He had seen Loki all manner of injured since he talked Loki into joining the Avengers on missions; the more dangerous they were, the better. Like a magnet, the Asgardian prince attracted trouble wherever he went, a magnet without which they would not have won half as many battles. 

So it all balanced out in the end, Tony figured; a concussion here, a fractured ankle there. If it meant victory, Loki was all for it, his all-too-human lover less so, for Tony was beginning to wonder if the latest knock to the head was one knock too many. Magical exhaustion, Loki had said. 

Magical exhaustion my ass, Tony fumed. In order for it to be called magical exhaustion, by definition, a magical act needed to have been performed, before any sorcerer worth his salt could claim to have succumbed to such a thing. 

No. Loki had simply been watching the television when it first happened with Tony by his side; one second, he was playing idly with Loki’s black curls (unearthly fragrant ever since Nat introduced him to bubble bars and bath bombs - which sounded terrifying and dangerous but were actually things you chuck in the tub when you feel like luxuriating in the bath after a long, hard battle) and the next, Loki was sprawled on the living room floor, frothing at the mouth, his limbs jerking erratically like a fish out of water. 

Tony did not panic. At least, not until the five-minute mark had passed with no sign of the seizure planning to cease anytime soon. The sight of Loki’s bluish lips sent a bolt of icy fear into his gut and Tony damn near broke his phone trying to get someone on the line, when all of a freaking sudden, Loki stopped flailing. 

After the hair-raising first ‘episode’, without waking, Loki sank into a deep sleep that had Tony obsessively checking his wrist for a pulse and his chest for spontaneous breathing every five minutes (despite reassurances from Banner and Dr Cho that Loki was fine, all his vital signs were fine). 

The next morning saw Loki all bright and cheerful and flipping pancakes, for God’s sake.

“Are you okay?” Tony showered Loki’s face with kisses and got doused with flour for his effort but he persevered, for not many things in the world could scare him like the sight of Loki shaking and blue (even if blue was Loki’s default setting, bless his beautiful Jotun form), “Are you really okay?”

“I’m fine! Stop kissing me!” Loki yelled, hitting Tony on the arm with a spatula. “What is going on with you?”

When Tony confronted him verbally about the ‘episode’, Loki only said, “Pish posh.”

When Tony confronted him with a five-minute-long video footage of Loki thrashing on the floor, his mercurial lover stared at the screen long after it had gone blank. 

“Magical exhaustion,” was the only explanation given Tony. 

What did Tony know about these things? He would have accepted the bizarre reasoning at face value had Loki not looked suddenly alarmed (a better choice of word would be terrified. Yes, Loki looked terrified) and the pancake all but forgotten. 

Of course, Tony did some asking around, and most of the Google doctors said the same thing: seizures were quite a common occurrence, one that could happen to just about anybody at any point in their life. And most people never experienced another episode after the first one. 

Well. Loki was not most people. 

Luckily (or not) the second episode happened in front of an audience, and Tony meant audience. 

Just the week before, Loki had saved a little girl from being thrown out of a tenth-story window by her mother who had fallen victim to one of Victor von Doom’s illusionary attacks and someone caught the rescue in all its magical glory on video. It spread like wildfire in a matter of hours. 

Of course, it warranted a medal ceremony that simply must take place; the mayoral election was just around the corner and Loki of Asgard could not possibly say no without having to answer questions. Loki hated nosy journalists; Tony did not mind them so much, especially the leggy ones.

So there Loki was, accepting his medal with the swagger of a successful pirate and all the surly demeanour of a teenager when lights flashed from the cameras and he dropped like a stone. 

“Medic!” Someone shouted. 

Never had Tony run up the podium so fast, but someone got to Loki before he did, and he damn near pushed the person off the stage before he realised who it was. “Strange!”

“Wong got a stomach virus,” Stephen muttered, already rolling Loki onto his left side to keep him from choking on his vomit. “I told him the tuna smelled funky.”

********************************

 

When Loki awoke, the unfamiliar surroundings had him scrambling for his magic to draw his daggers but the only thing he drew was a sudden bolt of pain spiking his temples. 

“Easy,” an annoyingly familiar voice said, deep and wary.

Loki gritted his teeth. “Second-rate.”

He should have known. The whole room smelled of incense and moth balls. 

“Loki, be nice.” Tony sounded hoarse, like he had been screaming. Or crying. “You’re at the Sanctum Sanitorium.”

“Sanctorum,” Stephen growled. 

“Tony, stop playing with my hair.” Loki flung an arm over his eyes. “What happened?”

“You tell me. And if you say magical exhaustion one more time…” Tony could not find the words to convey just how upset he was. 

Loki could not resist. He peeked through the crevice between his fingers. “You’ll what, spank me?”

“You stopped breathing on me, Bambi.”

Loki sighed. That would explain Tony’s red eyes alright.

“That’s unsettling.” He hoped his voice only sounded shaky to his own ears.

Stephen rolled his eyes. “Right. So here’s the lowdown. Ebony Maw left a piece of his torture instrument in your cortical gray matter back when you were...under.”

“Under.” Loki had to laugh. “Fancy choice of words, but accurate. In a manner of speaking.”

“You think this is funny?” Tony snapped. “Your heart stopped beating, Loki! If Stephen hadn’t been there - ” he choked.

“Tony,” Stephen called softly. “You’re not helping.”

Loki ignored his boyfriend and addressed the Sorcerer Supreme directly for the first time. “How do you know?”

“Because he practiced his art on me too,” Stephen said quietly. “Good thing Tony was there to stop him or I would probably be suffering from the same.”

Loki laughed again, a sad, soft chuckle. “I couldn’t get it out.”

“You knew?” Tony raged. “You knew you had that thing in you all this time and you didn’t tell me?”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Lokes.” Tony snarled, fighting hard to keep his composure but failing spectacularly. “This thing could kill you. It almost did.”

Stephen watched as Loki regressed slowly back into his shell, his eyes glazing over as Tony’s rant fell on obviously deaf ears. 

“Stark, I think that’s enough.” He grasped Tony’s shoulder and pulled him away from the bed. “I can help.”

Tony stared into his eyes and Stephen saw the kind of crazed desperation he used to see on a daily basis, back when he was living his old life, cutting into people for a meaningful living. 

“I can help,” he repeated; Tony dropped onto the bed, shell-shocked. 

Stephen redirected his attention to his once-nemesis who had snapped out of his stupor, just in time. “I just need you to consent.”

He watched Tony promptly pick Loki’s hand up to rub it in between his palms, wondering just what he had gotten himself into and if this was even the right thing to do. 

“So what will it be?” The Sorcerer Supreme crossed his arms impatiently. “Let’s be quick about it, I haven’t got all day.”

But things happened for a reason. Wong picked today to be sick for a reason, leaving him one man down with noone to stand in as security detail at the function.

Mystical threats were everywhere, even at silly award ceremonies.

Tony’s jaw clenched in suspense as he waited for Loki’s answer; when it came, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. 

“Yes,” the beautiful thing said. “Yes, I consent.”

 

THE END

[radramblog]

My Commander Decks Pt.1

I was supposed to be going to a Commander night tonight, and that fell through, and now I’m just sitting here, staring at my deckboxes. So I thought I might channel that sorta fixation into a discussion of some of my (many) commander decks, the history behind them, and how my own deckbuilding ethos folds into them.

  The Mimeoplasm- Sultai Reanimator

My oldest and most storied deck, though it has changed a lot over the years. I first heard about commander not long after I started playing magic, and I didn’t have much of a collection at that point, nor did I have that much money to drop on a 100-card deck. I might not have even had the basics necessary at that point. When I heard of the upcoming release of Duel Decks: Jace vs Vraska, I ended up agreeing with my brother to split it- we pay half each, he gets Jace, I get Vraska, with the intent of turning that into my first commander deck, with my copy of Varolz, the Scar-Striped at the head.

Getting cards isn’t easy in Perth, as there aren’t many card shops and their stock is limited- ordering online is an option but it can take upwards of a month for cards to arrive from the US stores. As such, when I saw a significantly better generic BG “stuff” commander in Sapling of Colfenor in a local store, I was easily conviced to pick her up, sleeve her up, and lead with her for a long time

At this point the deck was still just a pile of (mostly bad) cards I liked, with somewhat of a graveyard theme, but it was my pile of cards, and I loved it. I have a lot of sentiment attached to most if not all of my commander decks, actually. Eventually we got to the release of Khans of Tarkir and Fate Reforged, and while somehow I never got convinced to run Sidisi, Tasigur, the Golden Fang, would eventually take command of the deck, adding Blue to its options.

Blue didn’t add much at first, and it’s still the least present colour of the three in the deck, but a looter or two and some funky spells were a fun time. I was never good at playing Tasigur, never really willing to delve too much, not willing to exile my own graveyard, a sentiment that would continue into the current configuration. Not long after this, one of my friends organised an online order, and I decided to order enough cards to completely retune the deck.

I’d like to argue I got lucky, seeing as a lot of the cards I picked up spiked not long after, but it was then that the style of the deck solidified, and it started resembling where the deck is at now. Despite the huge changes, however, I didn’t think to change the commander to the Ooze that now helms the deck until after, and it would take some time until a friend spotted a Mimeoplasm in someone’s binder at a draft for me to finally get the deck’s final commander, solidifying it as a Mimeoplasm deck rather than just my Sultai Reanimator deck.

Even now, this deck is an eclectic collection of my history with Magic. Ostensibly, it’s a deck that either tries to win on turn 2-3 by reanimating an insurmountable threat, or by grinding out value steadily lategame between engines, possibly ending the game with a convoluted combo. But that’s not really what the deck is, is it. It has the Vraska from that old Duel Deck, the misprinted Flooded Strand from my Khans of Tarkir prerelease. It has two of the 5 Masterpieces I somehow managed to open over the 3 entire blocks they did those, and it has the damaged Reanimate my best friend traded for for me (He needed value in the trade and I paid him back for it, but it still counts). Cutting anything from this list is like killing my darlings, maybe with the exception of the manabase (It’s still pretty awful).

 Radha, Heart of Keld- Gruul Topdeck

From my oldest deck to my newest. Radha is a deck borne of one evening- it was a friend’s birthday, everyone was peacing out and walking back to our cars, both me and the birthday girl are parked next to the local game store, which, hey, it’s still open, let’s take a peek. I ended up buying everyone a round of Modern Horizons packs, as well as a Japanese Ikoria booster for myself, and apparently my good deeds were repaid in the packs I opened.

From this, I decided I wanted to build a more unique deck. See, it hadn’t been that long since the Commander precons where WOTC had decided to make a new archetype in the form of Esper Topdeck, printing Aminatou and Yennet as commanders to promote this. But with M21 recent, and Vivien’s ability to play off the top, I wanted to see what the other two colours could offer for such a deck. Hence, Radha, Heart of Keld became the leader of my own Gruul Topdeck deck.

There’s a lot of ideas coming together in this deck. The options for topdeck manipulation in Gruul are largely just the artifact ones, so I wanted more options to manipulate the deck- hence, I made sure the ramp was largely Rampant Growth type effects so they would still be relevant as shuffle effects in the lategame. I knew I wanted to run Wrenn and Six, so I made sure just about every nonbasic in the deck was a Evolving Wilds type effect- they synergize with Wrenn, they are shuffles when I want them, and they mean I can put all of my actually good Gruul lands in my other Gruul deck.

Unfortunately, the most you can abuse topdeck manipulation in Gruul to do is mostly just using it to cheat creatures into play. So that was the angle I went for, throwing a variety of spooky creatures in that would let me have a variety of options if I had the capacity to manipulate my deck. The sheer number of basic-searching effects I had gave me an excuse to run the Conduit of Ruin toolbox package I had in mind, letting me play Deciever of Form, a card in my collection that I’d had my eye on for quite some time, off of a one-of Wastes. I wanted to run Oath of Druids, so the deck doesn’t play any creatures under 3cmc just in case I’m flipping blind.

The deck does a lot of powerful nothing, but it’s not a blue deck, so I think I can get away with that. It’s far from perfect, and despite my disgust with the card it probably needs a Sensei’s Divining Top, butt I think this deck is an elegant reflection of my own deckbuilding process, if I do say so myself (and I do!)

 Callaphe, Beloved of the Sea- Mono-Blue Devotion Voltron

I built a Callaphe deck because I saw a foil showcase one at a card shop for cheap, thought it looked gorgeous, and had a bunch of blue cards sitting around without a deck to put them in. It’s not as well thought-out as some of my other decks, but I’d argue it has a lot going for it. Turns out the best way to play a bunch of blue enchantments with devotion also happens to you stealing a bunch of stuff and drawing a bunch of cards. Neat!

Callaphe has a bunch of new cards in it that I haven’t gotten to try yet, but I’m excited to do so- it’s probably the first deck I’m going to pull out at my next commander night. It’s not particularly powerful, but she gets big surprisingly quick, and no-one expects the old Corrupted Conscience my own Commander trick. Infect is a perfectly viable way to win a game of magic! Especially when I’m using someone else’s creature!

 Mirri, Weatherlight Duelist- Cat Tribal

The first round of Secret Lairs were announced in December 2019, as I recall. My birthday is December 11, and so I decided to spoil myself a little and pick up the “OMG Kitties!” pack, all the cards of which became the basis for this deck.

I’m a cat person. My cat Ruby is a brat but I love her to bits. This is the cutest deck I own.

Building around the Ikoria companion restriction was interesting, as it meant cutting staples like Sakura-Tribe Elder and…actually I think that was it? Turns out when you build kitty aggro you don’t want a lot of things that aren’t kitties. I opted for Mirri over Arahbo, however, partially because I despise Eminence as an ability, and partially because I like that Mirri lets you swing with impunity without getting cracked back too hard. A bit of a nonbo with Kaheera, unfortunately, but you can do worse. Kaheera usually gets blown up at some point anyway.

I’ve had a surprising amount of trouble getting all the tokens for this deck. I’m working on it.

 Roalesk, Apex Hybrid- Simic Superfriends

The idea for this deck is actually a spin on one from Ben Doolittle, from his Conditions Allow series on EDHREC. It inspired me, and while I took the mechanical core of the deck from the article, the Superfriends spin was my own idea. Essentially, the plan is to use Clone effects to convert cards in hand into copies of Roalesk’s powerful enter the battlefield and dies triggers (as the clones are sacrificed to the Legend rule), making the main man himself big very quickly and proliferating counters onto a wide variety of spicy planeswalkers.

The deck was built not long after the dissolution of my first Cube, as such many of the cards were taken directly from it- just about every UG walker in that cube or in my binder ended up in the deck, which proved problematic when I rebuilt the cube. It also ended up with the Doubling Season I opened in it, giving it combo potential, but the only tutor around is Jace, Architect of Thought’s ultimate, so it’s not a guarantee (Though the one time I did get it off was incredible…). Most of the deck is filled with Clones and a whole 22 planeswalkers, fulfilling a variety of roles in the deck, leaving not a whole lot of room for more traditional answers but since I have superfriends that ramp, superfriends that draw, and superfriends that are removal, it has yet to be too big an issue. Outside of ramp, however, I find myself allergic to “staple” cards, and so relying on the planeswalkers that the deck is built around and that synergise with Roalesk and the other Proliferate effects in the deck is fine by me.

The deck actually got strictly better with the recent Commander rules change that made dies triggers work even if you put the commander in the Zone, but I was a little salty anyway, since I’d built it with the idea in mind that I wasn’t getting that double proliferate unless I worked for it. Ah, whatever, can’t complain about the devs making my deck better for me, right?

 Much like many of these rambles, I’m going to leave this one here, halfway through. In the second half, we’ll discuss my awful but hilarious 5 colour deck, my awful to play against monocolour deck, and 3 others. ‘til then!

[mikkock]

HELLO I ADORE YOUR OCS SO MUCH WILL YOU TELL ME ABOUT KAI HE LOOKS LIKE A TOTAL "YOUR DAUGHTER CALLS ME DADDY TOO" DOUCHEBAG AND I FUCKING LOVE HIM AND WANNA KNOW MORE ABOUT HIM

LBLMVBGK THANK U OMG love it when ppl like my kids, im a proud dad rn

ALSO wrow congrats on ur on point analysis, cause, that’s the Essence Of His Being (fun fact since i got two characters who go by the name of kai -cause fuck that basic writing tip that says ‘dont have two characters named the same thing- i usually refer to him as The Bad Kai cuz he a bad bitch)

so lets unwrap that dude shall we uwu 

SO this dude was created when i realised my story didnt have antagonists so i made a bunch of Bad People and then they all became good people after i started giving them more personnality somehow eXCEPt him for some reason, the only survivor of the “everyone will be baby” plague, the only rude bitch in this house, the only guy who’s still on the dark grey side of morally grey...but tbh im in love with him cause he’s an asshole and im an idiot so like.

His base concept was basically something along the lines of “fuckboy but make it Couture”, like douchebag indeed But Gotta Be Fancy at being one, gotta add a pinch of Sneaky Bitch in the pot. His aesthetic is Chillin, gettin in ur pants, then moving on for some more chillin and more pants. So if you’re into some funky sexy time with no pressure and no ties, ya gon get along, your goals meet, time to have fun.

All that is supported by his charisma, cause unless ya got some nasty history, he’ll just look like that charming bad-boy “oho hot dude with a dangerous but not agressive” vibed person, and he’s quite a sweet-talker. He’s probs not only the ‘your daughter calls me daddy’ kind but also ‘and so will YOU, i’m scoring with the whole family and you wont stop me (and you wont WANT to stop me)’ 

He got that handsome ppl priviledge ya feel

but also, he wouldnt be a rude guy if he was just the ‘i enjoy chill frick-fracking and im just so sexy that no one can say no to that booty’ guy

Dude got quiiite some spite-fueled ego and Does Not Take losing well, and will not, in fact, let himself lose on any objective he has, and when that objective is A Person, he gets ugly. Being good at sweet talking also means being good at small stuff like “not saying exactly the truth always when it would be more beneficial not to”, “deliberately using euphemistic, ambiguous or obscure language so to mask wrong doings and technically saying the truth but in such a way that it becomes completely masked by a thick fog of bullshit”, and “use words and behaviour in general to influence others unscrupulously so to get something in return”. Even a little “playing with their perception in order to make them doubt in their thoughts and selves”. In short dude got no qualms about using all the tools of manipulation available if it means that he comes on top (or on bottom if the goal was getting an assful eeeeeey we’re masters of comedy here) It tends to be all for short term results tho, so not much your ‘boyfriend who convinces you you’re nothing without him” and more of a “you thought you were dating but only you were thinking that as he always kept it just vague enough to have you not official yet convinced of his and now you’re blaming yourself for believing you were together”

master of getting ass, also master of Ugly Ass Breakups, and master of suddenly dissapearing from your life so hard that you wonder if it was just your imagination all along (he got ugly past with a bunch of other ocs especially he’s ex boyfriend with two that are now together cause i dig that sort of drama the sAME dUDe gave u the trust issues that held u from going full lovey dovey ? i fucking lIVE off that kinda shit wait until he pops back like ‘oho hello fancy seeing YOU TWO here my two fave exes together incredible what a small world”)

Though I have to rework on all that cause that backstory is oLD AS SHIT (like prolly i built it in what, 2016? ew ugly) I had that stem from some sort of neglect-fueled inferiority complex. I had given him a kinda cold family with a bunch of siblings who got Way More Nurtured due to their respective talents and achievements, having him left behind and feeling like he got nothing. SO that’s basically the explanation as of today but i dont like iiiiit anymooooore so I’ll have to work on it to make it something i dig, cause idk, bitch feels flat so far.

BUT i do intend on keeping the whole concept of ~Loneliness~, and of him working alone and quite hard for anything he gets. And the general need of proving himself that had come from the WIP backstory. I don’t exactly see him as an overachiever at all, but definitly as an obstinate and persevering hardworking guy, because “Look YALL I WAS aBLE TO DO THIS YALL THOUGHT I COULDNT HUH YALL LOOK DOWN ON ME well fuck u cause idc im better than u now also ur mum’s into bondage i kno from experience bye”. So tbh pair up with him for group projects, you’ll be sure his share of the work will be done (but also if you dont do yours then he’s probably going to be a bITCh about it, no remorse in leaving blank slides in the middle of the powerpoint and then loudly proclaiming ‘OH RIGHT This was supposed to be Kevin’s part but I suppose he never sent it to me, despite the numerous reminders i sent him, no big deal, no hard feelings, its ok sweetie we all sometimes feel too lazy i forgive u :)” )

Also he’d be Chill to hang out with for like, parties, nights out at the bar, that kinda shit. He definetly has some beans to spill about quite some people, he gathers the goss as he gathers lovers (i was gonna end that in “as he spreads legs” but it sounded too PG-18 for this good Well Behaved family friendly blog) and Will Not stay tight lipped, and Will be a bitch when trashtalking people, and It Will Be Entertaining as it always is when you’re hearing about crazy exes and you’ve had some beers. 

Now trivia that idk where else to write cause idk i stupid or more like disorganised :

- he digs red ale beer like if ya wanna win him over with the appropriate alcohol offer there u go

- he’s a fake blonde (cause my hobby is painting regrowth roots on hair)

- his design is a mixture of those 3dgy denim boys u see on pinterest and the specific brand of fuckboys that are french-L-section-chic-grunge-hipster-fuckboys (L section is like a branch of highschool)(that word combo is a so specific kinda guy)(its kinda like a softboi but more arrogant but in a lowkey way)(also they rich)(but he’s not rich so guess that should make him Less Arrogant)

-im constantly dead afraid of giving him more characteristics and story or whatveer cause he’s the only meanie i got left and i do Not want him to stop being an asshole but everytime i develop a character they end up nice or redeemed or whatever and i wanna keep him a bitch so i neglect him (just like his parents in his 2016 version wow)

he smokes (prolly started quite early to Be Kool and now relies on it for stress relief)

he’s outspoken and extraverted and prolly the guy who had a lot to say when you were doing debates in class (there’s always that person who has a Lot to argument about)(its him) but outside of a Set and Defined debate structure he probably doesnt give his mind voraciously 

he’s a law student and despite saying he’s the one bad guy left he probably wont be a corrupt lawyer or judge or whatever like come on he will do his job properly he worked hARD FOR THIS justice may be served

he’s not the kind to openly hate or even dislike anyone cause what’s the point of wasting your energy on that? its much funnier to him to be obnoxiously Neutral with someone and basically ignore them but still strike them with some Spikes of passive-agressive comments, let them be Mad at your calmness

he’s 177cm tall (that’s like 5.8 according to google)

honestly if you’re bros with him he’s fun to be with the being a jerk is completly coincidental 

he probably ranks high in the list of “those criminals who steal big lighters from their friends” 

i think at a point his design had tattoos but i forgot the designs of those so now he doesnt anymore

a dog person

i think ive run out of facts (or my brain dead) so im leavin with a shirtless pic cause my hobby is drawing tits

in short, charming asshole who can get ugly, secretly feels lonely and small, works hard for himself, better have him as a friend than as a foe though probably not the most frontally agressive enemy, and also, your booty, hand it over.

[dregstrash]

Earning the Present(s) [4/4]

Thank you, thank you, thank you x100000 for sticking with this story and for suffering for my very late holiday vibes. I really just wanted to explore The Dregs as young adults, giving each other presents and being happy for a bit. I love this fandom a lot and the feedback I’ve gotten on this has been astronomical. keep being funky you crows

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Summary: Five years after the events of the Ice Court, the six outcasts were in the prime of their lives. They had everything they had fought and bled for: money, power, promise, home. But this holiday season, a surprisingly altruistic event has them all under the same roof, and they all may have been a little older and a little wiser, but they were still those teenagers who had done the impossible and had almost died countless of times. And when the idea of a holiday gift exchange comes up the true test of their friendship and their growth is thrown into the rink.

----------------------

KAZ

Kaz remembered the cold winters that came over the farm. He remembered the cold snap as he stomped his too big shoes against the creaking porch, trying to regain some feeling back in his toes. He would always look up at the expanse of the gray sky and wonder why it was taking the sun so long to make an appearance. He hated the cold and he hated that he had to be packed in a million layers just to play outside.

But then he’d step into his family’s farm house and he supposed that winter wasn’t so bad. Because if it was a good season, the fire would be warming the hearth. His mother would be knitting in her chair by the window, and his brother would be greedily reading a book by fireplace. His father would be at the dining table looking at the numbers that Kaz couldn’t quite understand. And when Kaz walked in, his mother would smile at him, his brother would put his book down to play a game with him, and his father would reach over to ruffle his hair. Kaz always thought that that type of warmth had nothing to do with the fire. It had everything to do with the hugs, the teasing, and his family. It was a warmth that came from the inside. And the cold was bearable if it gave him the ability to treasure that little ember of heat with him forever.

But then the storms of his life crashed down all around him. One after the other until he looked up one day and found that he was always cold. The ember that he had carried with him had been smothered and all that was left was an unforgiving tundra that refused to be tampered down by something so trivial as warmth. Of course, there were days when he lay awake listening to the countless of sleeping bodies strewn across the floor of the Slat, and he almost longed for a modicum of what he once had-- a mother, a father, a brother, a home.

Then the tundra in him would rear its head and start to drown him with images of bodies floating lifelessly, the bloated flesh of a brother who promised to never leave him, and a constant reminder that he wasn’t what he was-- he was a boy determined to never feel the heat of a fire ever again.

Yet, despite his resolution, he met a Suli girl made from her own shadows, he took on an impossible job with the outcasts and outlaws, he had been tricked, he had been fooled, and still he won. And by the end the ice that he was firmly clinging onto was melting slightly in his own hand as he followed that same Suli girl to the dock to reunite her with her parents. 

In the years following the Ice Court job, he made sure to cling onto the reputation. He was still The Bastard of the Barrel after all, and his infamy had only grown as he was the first person to revive activity in the Staves after the plague he had orchestrated. He opened a new gambling hall in the richer districts of Ketterdam. He had a hand in most of the harbor. His Dregs were the most feared and most sought after crew that Kerch has ever seen. Pekka Rollins had been driven out of the small island for good (though he knew that was more Inej’s doing than his). He had money. He had made a name for himself. He had everything, and sitting on the roof of the Slat with his new cane resting by him and staring up at the sky, he couldn’t help but notice that a small spark of what he thought was long gone was starting back in his chest. 

“So I suppose you’re going to leave that cane behind when you have parlays with the other barrel bosses. Since it’s an actual pistol now.” 

He wasn’t surprised when Inej’s voice materialized out of thin air. He was even less surprised when he felt her drape a blanket around him and take a seat. What did surprise him was the slight smell of alcohol rolling off her tongue. She wasn’t drunk, she wouldn’t have risked the climb if she was, but based on past experience she always made it a point to be nothing but sober when she was with him. She had said some Suli proverb about keeping one’s wits about themselves when in the presence of animals with sharp teeth-- he wasn’t sure, he was far too busy watching her mouth to make any sense of the words.

Kaz snorted, “Like I’ve said before, Wraith, no one is going to deny a poor cripple his cane.”

Inej laughed lightly and he fought off the temptation to close his eyes at the sound, “Out of all the things I would choose to describe you, Kaz, ‘poor’ would not be one of them.”

Inej’s thigh was pressing closely against his and the warmth of it was making him dizzy. 

Ever since that day at the harbor, when he had so boldly took her hand in his, ungloved, it became a renewed effort to pull his mind from those drowning waters when he touched her. It had been so slow. There were some days when he almost wanted to let his lips linger longer and he thought himself strong enough to want to hold her without the barrier of clothes between them, but then the slightest brush of her fingers against his brow or her lips placed at the skin behind his ear and the riot of nausea and desire would render him paralyzed.

He hated it. He hated himself. He almost hated her. But then she’d understandably take a step back. She’d hold out her hands and give him that smile that would without fail melt him completely. Inej would listen to him breathe and get back his bearings and when he was steady once more she would take her perch by the window and they would spend the rest of the day in companionable silence.

Then there were moments when she needed that space. When she needed to draw back because he held on too tight. Or when she would hug herself when he tried to take her hand. Or when she woke up gasping and confused and...scared. He was there. Kaz would always be there. To help her fight whatever she needed to fight. 

It was a pendulum of good days and bad days between them, but eventually Kaz finally drew some comfort in Inej’s constancy. That in the midst of the good and the bad days, there she was, offering her hand to keep him steady--ungloved or gloved.

So sitting with her under the stars, Kaz didn’t hesitate in taking her hand in his. He turned his head and caught Inej’s smile as she laced her fingers with his.

“It was nice of Nina to do this.” She brought up, and Kaz turned his gaze back to the sky. “I haven’t celebrated Sankta Nichols Day in a very long time.”

“So the Suli give secret presents to one another and have to suffer through one of Jesper’s drunken rants?” Kaz mused.

“No,” Inej sighed. He could practically feel her roll her eyes, “We don’t really give presents like the rest of Ravka. Since we’re always moving, we would just throw a giant feast with dancing and songs.”

“There weren’t any presents? Even small ones?”

Inej shrugged, “If a family was rich enough or if people were in love, but it wasn’t common. What use is a present if you’re going to have to carry it with you.”

“Hmmm....”

“What about your family?” 

Kaz stiffened at that, “What do you mean?”

“Did they give each other presents at all? I know you Kerch value trade, but were there not any other occasions to give gifts?”

Kaz was silent for a while after that, weighing the words on his tongue. Inej knew most of his past by now, he thought she deserved that much truth at least. But it was still something that felt like a hot spike of cold that stabbed his chest. 

“No,” He rasped out, “We weren’t wealthy enough to give each other gifts. There were a few times that my father gave my brother a pocket watch that belonged to my grandfather. But presents like we had tonight were never within reach.”

Inej nodded in understanding and put her head against his shoulder. 

She was so warm. Everything about her was warm. Her body, her hair, her smile. She was everything that he had tried so hard to forget and he supposed it was that reason that he shifted his body away from her and turned to face her.

There was an obvious confusion in her eyes, but that slowly gave way to shock when Kaz pressed a small box into her hands.

“Kaz, what--” She gave a small gasp as she opened it and looked at the ring nestled inside.

A flutter of nervousness like he’s never known shocks through him, but he tries to talk through it.

“This doesn’t have to be a proposal,” He rushed to say, as Inej’s eyes were still fixed in the simple band with the three diamonds adorning it. “I-I just wanted you to know that if you’re ready or whenever you’re ready, that I’ll be here. That I’ll always be here, as long as you let me be.”

“It’s a promise ring then?” Inej’s smile could have rivaled the diamonds and for a moment Kaz lost his ability to speak.

“Of sorts.” He stuttered.

She held out the box towards him, and before he could even feel his heart begin to droop she said, “Put it on me?”

He nodded and took the delicate jewelry from the velvet box, “So is that a yes?”

The ring fit snugly on her fourth finger of her left hand and sparkled as it caught the light of the moon.

“Yes to the promise or yes to the proposal?” She said admiring it.

Kaz reached up and cupped her cheek with his hand, “Either or both, whichever you prefer.”

Inej’s lips quirked up and she inched forward. Kaz’s breath was caught in his throat as her breath fanned over his mouth, “Yes.”

“Are you ever going to tell me to which you’re agreeing to?” He teased.

She laughed and closed the distance between them in a quick and soft kiss before she settled her body more snugly against him. Her head hit his chest and she was sitting comfortably between his legs.

“Maybe next Sankta Nichols Day.” She chuckled as his hands immediately wrapped around her middle and he buried his face in her hair. The smell of it more intoxicating than all the alcohol in the world. 

Kaz shook his head disbelievingly, but found himself smiling regardless. He was a boy that the ice had tried to claim, but with the girl who had saved him countless times wearing a ring that held more visions of the future, he felt a new type of comforting warmth that had seemed so out of reach.

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